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#my head is filled with cement
i-want-to-be-a-poet · 3 months
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toastsnaffler · 8 months
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it's bullshit that the 3 nearest adhd support groups to me are all for parents struggling to deal with their adhd kids lmao
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foldingfittedsheets · 11 days
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In one misfortunate year I ended up getting into several car accidents. It cemented my general fear and anxiety in cars, because in each case I was either in the car but not driving or driving safely when suddenly something hit me.
One was my ex driving in an unfamiliar city and cutting someone off on accident that resulted in a sideswipe. Another was getting rear ended when I came to a required stop.
The last was when I had a green arrow at an intersection. I turned and was smashed into by someone running a red light, T-boning my little car.
Dazed and in shock I tottered out of the car to behold a crusty older man eating a donut step out of the offending vehicle. A fire truck arrived to block us off from traffic since my car could no longer move under its own power.
“Were you on your way home from work?” The firemen asked me.
I shook my head, struggling to focus on them, “No,” I said vaguely, “I was on my way home from volunteering at the animal shelter.”
In an instant they were closing ranks around me, glaring at the ambivalent donut man who would dare to hit a tiny frail angel who volunteered at the animal shelter. They asked if I needed to get anything out of my car. I did.
“It’s… uh. It’s a little weird though.”
They gestured for me to proceed. I grabbed a bag with snacks and books and filled it with things I couldn’t just leave in my car. Last out I pulled my cutlass.
“Is that a sword?!”
It was. They were instantly like giant puppy dogs, excited and delighted but trying to mind their manners. The bravest said, “Can we…?” I held out the sword. They whooped with delight, unsheathing and marveling at it.
“Why do you have that in your car?”
“I honestly don’t remember, it’s just a fun thing to have at a party now.”
“Is your wrist okay?”
My shock was wearing off and I realized I was cradling my wrist to my chest. “Oh.” I rummaged into my bag and pulled out a wrist brace.
“Wh….why do you already have that?” I was starting to confuse the firemen. I volunteered with cats, had a sword offhand, and kept a wrist brace in my car bag.
“Sometimes I try to hold books in a way that sprains my wrist? So I have this in my car just in case.”
They stared at me. Maybe, like my wife, they assumed it was for masturbation induced injuries. They handed my sword back as the tow truck arrived and thanked me for letting them play with it. They gave donut man one last glare and drove their big truck away.
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studioghibelli · 4 months
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the end of the world- a joel miller x reader
summary: you had a strict relationship with joel that stuck to the rules. fuck, leave, repeat. it was only a matter of time until feelings were dragged into the mix. when joel leaves at the first sign of love, you're left wondering what you had done wrong. (rated explicit, 18+, mdni)
warnings: post outbreak!joel, jackson!era, implied fwb relationship, heavy handed on the angst, a whole lot of pining, a lot of flashbacks, and smut. (unprotected piv sex, fingering, clit rubbing, masturbation?, dirty talk, pet names, allusions to slapping/rougher sex, brief biting, a tiny bit of daddy kink.) ended with a bit of fluff
note: i think this is my favorite thing i have ever written. i guess i was in some sort of mood or sumfin. also i absolutely hate spell checking so sorry for any errors. enjoy!!
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Joel used to be rough.
He used to imprint his name upon your skin through heavy handed grips and crescent shaped nail marks, left deep into the supple skin of your thighs. Like hieroglyphs on a wall of sandstone, he made sure the world would see what beauty he had left etched into your skin, like a canvas that only he had the privilege of painting.
He used to take you by the throat and kiss you with biblical fervor. He would kiss you so hard the taste of his spit lingered on your tongue for the days following, reminding you who you belonged to, if only for a few hours.
He used to sink his incisors into your neck, suckling at your skin like a vampire in search of an artery. He would leave deep patches of purple beneath your ear, the mark of a man who knew just what you wanted, the mark of a man who was more primal, more animalistic, than he was human.
Then, something changed.
Soft was he, on one fateful night, where his rough palms dragged across the side of your body, gentle waves of pleasure heaving, heaving, heaving, washing over you until you were a shell drowning in an ocean tide, consumed only by thoughts of him.
Joel, Joel, Joel.
A mantra, a promise, a prayer.
Soft was he, his lips molding to yours like cement stuck in the cracks of sidewalks, unwavering and unbreaking, filling you up to the hilt.
Soft was he, as he slipped his cock deep into your pussy, deep and gentle, hitting against every inch, every spot, that made your legs quiver just for him.
Soft was he, as he cradled your face in his rough hands, eyes boring in to your own, the curved bridge of his nose pressing into your rounded cheek, coaxing you, asking you, begging you, to cum for him.
Only ever him.
His hand's had done irreversible damage, taken many lives, and he pushed back the guilt for those crimes long ago, but Joel figured that perhaps holding your face in his hands was worth all the blood, the sweat, the grime and decay. Perhaps touching the skin of an angel was enough to bathe him clean from his past sins, enough to purify the monster which lurked within.
And then one day, he swore you off.
"Can't be around you anymore." He snarled, hand dragging down his face, heavy and hot with the burning poker of shame.
"Says who?" Your voice was cracking, the angry prick of tears stabbing at your eyes, like daggers dripping with bitter venom.
"Me. This ain't.... right. We should never have done this."
"Why isn't it right?" You were begging, trying your hardest to coax put a semblance of an answer from him.
"You're too young for this. For-for me. I ain't good for you."
"Where is this coming from? Just two nights ago you were making love-"
"That's the problem." Joel hissed. "Makin' love." He scoffed spitefully, shaking his head firmly. "It's the end of the fuckin' world and I'm worried about makin' a woman cum, makin' your eyes roll. I should be out fightin', I should be out makin' rounds and doin' my work. Ain't thought of anything like that since I've been with you. I have duties. Responsibilities. I'm too old to be sleeping around like some teenager."
You hated yourself for allowing a tear to slip, hated yourself for showing weakness in his presence. "What about your duty to me?" You cried out, hands tangling into tight fists. You felt your veins pumping with venomous resentment, wondering how you could have been so stupid to allow him respite behind the walls of your soul, sanctuary from the world around the two of you.
"I don't have no duty to you. You're not my wife, not my girl. You're just somebody I was fuckin'."
That was two months ago. Two long, grueling months.
This winter in Jackson was particularly brutal. Perhaps nature had been in tune with your heart, rocking and shaking and screaming in unison with your thoughts, angry and vengeful. Like Poseidon wreaking havoc on the ocean, like Zeus bringing hailstorms of lightning, like Zephyrus playing his hand in an assailing wind; you felt your rage through the soil, the packed snow, the shaking pine needles.
Everyday you would trek to your shop, sit behind the counter, and patiently wait for someone to stop by, wait for someone to ask how your day was (which you would inevitably lie about, tell them how good you were), and wait for someone to barter or trade with you.
A dozen chicken eggs for a woven blanket, a few sprigs of rosemary for some pencils, a handful of sheep's wool for some freshly pressed paper.
It was the same every day.
Rise, work, sit, cry, sleep, repeat.
For the past two months you had lurked around the corners of Jackson with a heavy gray cloud hanging over your head, and each day for the past two months you despised yourself for being so caught up with Joel fucking Miller, for being so upset he left you.
You lived in the smallest house in Jackson. There was no reason for you to take up a big one, no reason for you to have two stories, no reason for you to have a big open kitchen or spacious living room. What was the point? No husband, no children, no nothing.
You had tried to make it yours, and you had tried to make it happier since that horrible, awful, nasty thing happened between you and Joel.
You had bought a thick and oversized crocheted blanket the color of sand with a harvest worth of kale, thrown it over a soft and lived-in suede couch to curl up under. You had bartered a basketful of gourds for two knitted pillows, a brown dachshund stitched into one, and a ginger cat stitched into the other. You had picked up a backpack full of books on a run into the nearest town, settling on classics that you used to read as a young girl, in hopes you could feel that golden peace so often felt during childhood, when the only pressing matters on your mind were untied shoelaces and what mom was cooking for dinner.
A life long ago. A life you could barely remember. You were a small child when the world went to shit, barely starting school, with gaps between your teeth and messy, unruly hair. Still growing out of your sneakers, still biting your nails, still picking up worms from the rich soil with amazement and wonder bubbling in your eyes.
When everything happened, when the buildings were bombed and fields burnt, you were forced to grow up. Forced to toughen up, to be someone you never planned on being at such a young age. You ditched the sparkly backpacks and trips to the library for switch blades and look out towers, for uneasy silence and stale dinners.
Then you met Joel, many years after it first began, and everything seemed a little bit better. It started fast and rough, as though you both thought the world would implode the following morning. And then, when the realization that this was life, that nobody was going anywhere, things grew gentler, softer, more meaningful.
Joel's kisses grew deeper, his touches dragged out for longer, his mouth imprinted upon your soft and lithe skin like droplets of dew on blades of morning grass, gentle and ethereal. His words became breathless, sweet, full of desire and thick with honeyed praise.
"Look at you, such a pretty little thing. Shakin' like this, all for me. Who's makin' you feel like this, sweet girl?" Joel's middle finger was buried to the knuckle in your tight pussy, thumb gently tapping at your clit. A string of saliva strung from your nipple to his lips, where his plush mouth had been covering your hardening bud in gentle bites, sucking like a man on a mission.
"You." Your voice came out as a mewl, quiet and shaking. "You, daddy."
Joel grunted a primordial, brutish grunt that rumbled through the sturdiness of his chest, adding a second finger as his head ducked down to your neck, where his kissing resumed upon the blades of your collarbone. "Good fuckin' girl. Good girl. So fuckin' good, a god damn dream. You know that?"
The wall in front of you was covered in framed images you had found on your travels around Jackson. Some original art you scored in the back of a desolate thrift store, some vintage movie posters you found huddled in the dusty corners of a theatre, some polaroid photos you had taken with old friends.
You blinked the memories of him away.
With each day, you tried to convince yourself it was for the best. With each day, you tried to make yourself understand where he was coming from, why he did the things he did.
"You're just somebody I was fuckin'." You remembered his words like sandpaper grinding against the track of your throat, burning their fiery syllables into your tongue. How true his statement actually was, you weren't so sure.
Joel's forehead was pressed to yours, eyes fluttering open and shut with each deep thrust, hands entwined into your own. Your palms were pressed rigid and unyielding into his, Joel's thick fingers wrapping and molding into your smaller ones, chest rubbing against yours with each masterful movement of his hips.
His hot breath, soaked with the sweet smell of whiskey, fanned across your face, coating you with the ache he felt for you, the love he knew he had growing deep inside for you. Each breath he took was a promise. He was never going to leave you. How could he?
"Joel." You chanted, head thrown back in ecstasy, eyes full of stars.
"What do you want from me, darlin'? Say the word and its yours." Joel's voice was breathless and throaty, coating you in the sweet nectar of his affection, seeping deep into your pores until it filled your soul with yearning,
His cock, thick and veined, was slowly pumping as deep is it possibly could within your walls. You fluttered and ached and wept against him, bodies meshing into one, tight and close yet flowing and gentle, like the Bernini sculptures you saw in an art encyclopedia, a long time ago in Boston. Joel filled you to the brim with his length. You felt full of him, wrapped and wanting and wanton. For his eyes only. Only ever him, always.
"Right there." You begged, nails dragging down the length of his wide, sturdy, strong back, marking him with the love caked beneath your fingernails. That unspoken love that weighed heavy on your shoulders, like a wool blanket in the dead of winter.
When Joel's eyes met yours, hitting against the spot you begged him to touch, he had that gaze glossed over his irises, that heavy, awfully gentle look threaded within the chocolate umber of his orbs, the stare that only a man in love ever carried with him.
The memory stuck to your mind like glue on a school project, drying there with no hopes of ever coming loose.
That night, with Joel so heavy on your mind, you treaded heavily to your record player, sifting through the record's you had collected over the years.
"That'll do." You mumbled with dejected finality, putting the vinyl on the player as you lowered the needle.
Why does the sun keep on shining?
Why does the sea rush to shore?
Don't they know it's the end of the world,
Cause you don't love me, anymore?
As you listened to the sweet voice of Julie London, you looked around your kitchen, the pile of dishes only stacking up, higher and higher. With your hands on your hips you walked over, forcing yourself to do something with your night. You couldn't sit and mope, you had already spent too long doing that anyways.
You let the hot water fall upon the backs of your dainty hands, watching with glass eyes as it fell and dribbled off your fingers, the soapy suds filling the porcelain bowls. You cupped them in your hands, breathing in the citrusy scent, closing your eyes.
Think. You begged yourself. About anything else but him. Think.
Why do the birds go on singing?
Why do the stars glow above?
Don't they know it's the end of the world,
it ended when I lost your love.
You pricked the tip of your finger with the sharp point of the butcher knife, gently twisting it soft enough to only make the hint of an imprint, thinking to yourself. You had lived your entire life fighting, fleeing, hiding, escaping, yet it only ever felt like the end of the world once you lost him.
"Damn you Julie London!" You shouted, voice mellow dramatic and emotive, face planting into your arm which rested on the wooden counter.
"What'd Julie London ever do to you?"
The voice, raw and rough, startled you, awakening you from your trance. Before you could catch it, a puppy like yelp escaped your mouth, sharp and nasty against the ears.
You knew who that voice belonged to. The voice that lulled you to sleep, the voice that whispered sweet nothings as you lay naked and bare on linen sheets, the voice that called you good girl and sweet angel and pretty princess whilst crammed deep into your cunt.
Joel.
Turning so hard you nearly snapped your own neck, you saw him standing in the doorway of your home, tall and brooding, filling the heavy air with the familiar scent of pine needles and bergamot. He held a basket in his arms. A basket he had bought from your shop, many moons ago.
“Ever heard of knocking?” Your voice was nastier than you meant it to be, but you couldn’t help the emotion rising within the confines of your chest, beating at your ribcage like a wild animal locked in a zoo.
“I did knock. You didn’t answer. Took the liberty to walk on in and check on you.” He shrugged, as if it was the most obvious answer in the world, and slowly shut the door behind him.
“To check on me?” You scoffed bitterly, turning your back to him again as you resumed your cleaning. You heard the vinyl come to a stop, the air silent and palpable, moulding to your rage. You took in a deep breath, looking down at the sponge you were grasping ahold of a little too tight. “Two months go by, and suddenly today- of all days- you decide to take the liberty to come and…. check on me?”
Joel’s sigh, burdened with what felt like guilt, swirled through your ears. “Yes.” Was all he said, simple and plain.
Oh, you had a lot more to say than one meager word.
You were too nervous to meet his gaze, too worried your tears would come flooding, soaking through your skin and deteriorating until you were nothing more than a puddle of nothing on the wooden floorboards.
“I….” You struggled for a long moment, tongue twisted and stuck in your own throat. “I don’t know what to say to you anymore.”
You heard the sound of dense boots against the ground, felt the weight of the air behind you shift. He was close. His scent was coated around the inside of your nostrils, fogging your mind with past memories you swore you’d never ponder on again.
“I know what you want to say.” Joel’s voice was quiet, barely a whisper in the wind. “That you hate me. That you never want to see me again. That you hope I’m ripped limb from limb by clickers. Gunned down by raiders.”
Tears welled within your eyes. You didn’t speak for a long beat, sniffling as quietly as you could possibly muster. “After everything, you know I-…. even after you broke me. I-I don’t wish for that. Never even thought of that.” You admitted your terrible secret with a shaking voice, hand tightening so deeply around the sponge, your middle finger sunk straight through the material.
Joel’s fingers gently traced down the small of your back. An offer. You heard a gentle thump as he set the basket down, followed by his other hand pressing flat into your side.
“I’m scared.” His voice was full of emotion you had never once heard from him. “That’s why I left.”
“What?”
“I’ve lost everyone, ‘cept Ellie. Tess, Bill, Frank, Sarah.” His voice cracked, trailing off. “I couldn’t lose you, too. I can’t watch you…. can’t watch you fall victim to this world.”
You shook your head, dropping the sponge against the metal sink, tilting your head to look out the window which stood in front of you. The night sky was sparkling with millions of stars before you, snow flaking down from the heavens, coating the glass window pane with a copious layer of delicate snowflakes, each so different and unique. It was beautiful.
Joel’s left arm slowly wrapped around you. You wanted to fight him off, wanted to scream and banish him from your home, wanted to promise if you ever saw him again you’d kill him on the spot. But you couldn’t. Not when he was so vulnerable, so warm, so willing.
You shifted against him, leaning back until your bodies were close together. His hand rested taut against your belly, his other arm soon finding solace beneath your shirt, pulling you even closer.
“I’m sorry.” He finally broke the dizzying silence, chin nuzzling into the blade of your shoulder. “I didn’t know what else to do. I- I still don’t know what to do.”
You blinked away new forming tears, taking in a deep breath. “You could start by warming me up.” You were so meek, you were unsure if he heard your words.
Joel’s hands slipped beneath the hem of your shirt, pressing gently into the skin of your tummy, fingers massaging into the supple skin of your waist, your love handles, drawing circles into the line of skin right above the hem of your pants. Your back fell deeper into his chest as he touched you, felt you, as if he had never known your body before.
You could stand there and argue with him, cry and rage and scream at the universe, or you could let him apologize the best way he knew, let him make it all up to you.
“After this,” you managed to choke out, “am I still going to be somebody you just fuck?”
He wasted no time shaking his head. “You never were. You were, are, the light of my life. I don’t know what I was thinking.” His breath was hot against your neck, his lips pressing kisses, scattered like constellations, into your skin.
“You weren’t thinking.” You moaned a breathless laugh, head tilting to allow him access.
“No, I wasn’t.” Joel’s fingers slipped into your pants, palm cupping your pussy, hot and wet with the promise of his touches. “Damn baby, this horny already?”
“Haven’t been touched in two months. Sure you understand.”
He chuckled a deep, endearing chuckle, nudging his nose into your cheek. “Think I should do somethin’ about this?”
You nodded quickly.
“Words, pretty baby. Use your words.”
“Yes. Please, do… do something about it.”
“That’s my good girl. I’ll give you what you want, I promise.”
You felt butterflies brewing within your belly as his middle finger traced the middle of your green cotton underwear, rubbing where you swollen clit gently poked against. He knew you like the back of his hand, like a map he had spent years memorizing. Giving you pleasure, knowing where and how to make you cum, had become second nature for Joel.
“Don’t be ‘fraid to lean against me. Let daddy take care of you.”You groaned softly at his words, falling back into his body. His strong arms wrapped around you, keeping you up, bicep thick and muscled against you. “Push those down for me.”
You wiggled out of your pants and underwear, bottom half open and exposed for him. His fingers dragged across your mound, brushing against the outside of your pussy that cried out for his touch.
Joel slipped his index finger between your outer lips, finding your clit, slowly drawing circles around your aching bud. You sighed out, once again meshing in to his chest as he touched you, feeling the silkiness of your pink, throbbing cunt.
“I missed this pussy. So wet for me, so needy. You like it when I touch you? Like it when I make you feel good?” His words were hot in your ear, melting into your senses like dripping candle wax.
“Oh, I love it. I love it so much. I love you so much.” You were too caught up in pleasure to understand the weight of what you just said, head rolling against his shoulder as he teased your pussy.
Joel let out a quiet moan at what you just admitted, his hold on you tightening. He was never going to let you go. He sunk his middle finger into your tight opening, slowly hooking it against you G-spot, thrusting it up and down the way he knew made you cry for him.
Your knees were shaking, yet you had no fear of falling. As foolish as it may have been, you had complete trust in Joel Miller. You knew he wouldn’t let you drop. Your walls fluttered around his finger, clit begging to be touched once more. You lowered your hand, gently flicking at your swelling button, moaning out as he added his ring finger to your cunt.
“That’s it baby. Rub that pretty pussy. Cum on my fingers.” Joel whispered m, gently biting down on your ear lobe.
You felt your thighs quivering, belly tightening as your orgasm drew closer. Joel watched you with hawk like vision, relishing in the way your fingers traced and danced across your clit. Before you had the chance to announce your climax, you found yourself cumming on his digits, coating them in you sweet, slick arousal, screaming his name as thought it was the only word you ever had the chance to memorize.
When you came down from your high, Joel slowly removed his fingers, bringing them to your soft lips. “Suck.” He commanded gently. You did, wrapping your mouth around them as you gingerly took them in, all the way to the hilt, sucking them clean and dry, free from any of your cum. “That’s my good girl, my pretty darlin’.”
You shivered against him, your head falling back. Joel gently tapped the counter. “Jump up there.” He whispered.
You did as you were told, grabbing the collar of his flannel, pulling him closer.
“Kiss me, Joel Miller.”
And kiss you he did.
His lips found yours with the passion of ten thousand soldiers, sickly sweet and supple against your mouth. Joel was consuming you with this kiss, torridly leaving his mark into the soft ridges of your pouted lips, blanketing you with the desire he had for you that he so often tried to push down. Your fingers found his graying hair, legs wrapping around his waist until the bulge breaking at his jeans was pressed right into your bare pussy.
You grinded against him, clit still sensitive and aching from the power of your last orgasm. Still, you dropped your hands to his zipper, tugging them down swiftly.
“Want you to fuck me.” You whispered against his mouth, tongue sliding across his. “Want you to cum inside me. Make me yours.”
“You’ve always been mine.” Joel muttered, hand slipping down to remove his boxers. “I was just bein’ an idiot.”
“Then make it up to me.”
The tip of his cock found the slick lips of your pussy, and he slowly pushed himself in through on graceful movement, filling you to the top until your clit was pressed against his stomach. Joel felt your pussy clench against him, and he groaned, letting his head fall to your shoulder. He sat there for a moment, relishing in the warmth being inside of you provided, arms wrapped around you like a belt, pressing you hard into his chest.
You gently placed your hands on the back of his head, pulling away to look at him. Tracing over his features, you took every inch of him in. That Aquiline nose you had grown to love so much, the patchy beard littered with charming speckles of silver, that stray curl in the middle of his forehead that never stayed put. Joel Miller was beautiful. He was an enigma of a man. Stoic, masculine, tender, intuitive, full of emotions and worlds unknown to everyone. Everyone but you. He was a crazy, deep, beautiful paradox of a human, and he was all for you.
Joel slowly pushed out from you, before pumping himself back in. He did this a few more times, his eyes never straying from your own. His fingers slipped to your clit, gently rubbing the pad of his thumb against it.
“Think you can cum on my cock?”
You nodded.
A smile lifted the right corner of his mouth. “Tha’s what I like to hear.” He leaned down, kissing you again as he began fucking you, deep and slow, each move methodical and well planned, as if he knew just what he wanted to do to your body.
Your hands fell to his broad shoulders. His broad shoulders. That alone could have made you cum. The tanned slope of his beautiful, beautiful shoulders, collarbones thick and jutted out just right, followed by patchy chest hair, down to his soft belly that pressed into yours so perfectly. He was beautiful. You traced your fingers down the trail of his biceps, feeling the muscles tense beneath your touch, straight to his wrists, lacing with his long, skilled, well worked fingers, palm rough and calloused, tough as leather against the softness of your sweet, smooth hands.
You drunk his figure in like a lovesick fool. Oh, you were, weren't you? So full of love and affection for this brute of a man, well aware he struggled with his emotions. You watched the crows feet by his eyes crinkle as he clamped his eyes shut, watched the line of his neck pulse as he threw his neck back in pleasure.
He was a Baroque portrait of lust standing before you, dark and brooding, thrusting into your cunt as if it were the sweetest thing in the world for him. He growled into the air with each pump of his hips, nails digging into your skin as he held you close, never to let go.
"Joel." You whispered softly, burying your face in his chest as your second orgasm fast approached. You weren't sure why you said his name, not sure what you wanted exactly, but Joel knew. He always knew. He just cradled the back of your head with his right hand, his other gripping ahold of your waist, pounding faster, deeper, harder, hungrier. You were all he wanted, all he ever wanted, all he ever needed.
Joel bit down onto your shoulder softly as he twitched inside you, and you knew his orgasm was soon to come. He kept the same pace on your clit until you were putty in his hands, legs tightening as pleasure washed over you. You both came in harmony, moans mixing and melding into the air which surrounded you. His cock painted your walls with thick, hot ropes of white, and your tightening walls milked every last lick of it out as your came hard, head dizzy with thoughts of him.
He whispered your name softly as he slowed to a stop, pillowing you against his body. "God, I missed you."
You nodded in agreement, sticky skin pressed together like two puzzle pieces. "I missed you." You pulled away, holding on to him for support as you slowly stepped off the counter. You gently pressed your palm into his chest, feeling his cum dribbling down your thigh. You smiled softly at the feeling before glancing up at him. "More than you know."
Joel gently ran his palm down your back as you slipped your underwear on, quickly following suit.
"What's in the basket?" You asked, pointing to the item he left alone on the living room rug.
"Oh. It was s'posed to be a peace offerin'. Makin' up with you was easier than I thought." Joel joked, and you gently slapped his shoulder.
"Whatever." You giggled, walking over to the present.
Inside were some paintings Ellie had made you that Joel never had the courage to send before, some sprigs of dried herbs they were growing in their back yard, some handmade goats soap from a lady down the street, and a long, narrow velvet box. You picked it up slowly, turning to look at him.
"Now if you don't like that I might as well go out and die in the woods. Took me fuckin' weeks to find." Joel admitted, rubbing his neck nervously. "I remember you sayin' you wanted one of them."
You slowly opened it, met with a shimmering string of pearls. A necklace. A necklace you had spent your whole life yearning for. Your lips parted with surprise. "I-I've never seen one in person. Only in those old magazines they had back at QZ."
Joel walked towards you, nodding a bit. "Spent a whole weekend with Tommy, all the way in Cheyenne. Almost got me killed." He chuckled, hands falling to your hips.
"Oh, Joel. It's beautiful. It's.... I've never seen something like this before." You whispered earnestly, gently sweeping your hair up. "Put it on me?"
He smiled a soft, rare smile, gingerly clipping it around your neck. He took a step back, admiring you, soaking you in, memorizing the way it looked on you. "Yeah, that was worth the trouble."
You smiled happily, falling into his arms. He held you tightly to his chest, fingers sweeping through your locks of hair. "By the way..." Joel murmured into your head, pulling away slowly as his fingers found your chin. Your eyes met in a searing gaze, full of summertime warmth that fell over you like golden sunlight. He stared at you long and hard, and you saw something like tears gloss over his gaze.
And when he spoke, his voice was calm, steady, devout:
"I love you, too."
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buckyalpine · 2 months
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Choices (Bucky version)
So you all know the fic choices and choices 2 with a cheating Bucky and sweetheart Steve. I couldn't help myself, I decided to also have a version where Steve is the cheater and reader ends up with Bucky. I'm such a Bucky girl, it cannot be helped. It's the same fic with a few details added to suit the character changes, reversed roles and all in one part.
18 + minors dni 
Steve x reader, Bucky x reader
Warnings: ANGST, cheating, Steve is a dick, SMUT, fluff, Bucky is a sweetheart
“Fuck you taste good sweets” 
Your stomach dropped, cold sweat erupting over your body, hearing your husband’s voice and a woman’s moans from your bedroom. You’d suspected it for a while but it couldn’t be true, he wouldn’t. 
You quietly opened the door, slapping your hand over your mouth over the sight in front of you, Steve’s head buried between some woman’s legs, her thighs thrown over his shoulders as he held her open with his thick arms, groaning as he ate her out. She cried in pleasure, tugging his hair forcing his face in deeper, their clothes thrown on the floor, her bra carelessly tossed on the framed wedding picture you had on the bedside table. 
You couldn’t move, rooted on the spot as he pried her legs apart further, making her back arch, his tongue assaulting her clit, flicking and swirling circles around it, his hips grinding his cock into the mattress, moaning. 
“Best fucking pussy ever baby, can’t get enough of you, could cum just from your taste baby fuck”
You felt light headed, leaning against the hallway to catch yourself, slipping onto the floor, unable to leave even if you wanted to. You pressed your hands to your mouth, desperately trying to silence your cries. 
“Oh god Steve FUCK, push your tongue in me baby, just like that, fuck just like that Captain”  You could hear the wet slapping of his tongue, her voice screaming higher as he made her cum with his mouth. 
“C'mon cum for me baby, want it all over my face, oh god m’gonna cum just rubbing myself like this, no one else gets me off like you, FUCK sweets, AH-” 
His moans caused your heart to splinter, the aftermath of their affair slowly winding down to labored breaths and messy sheets. You lifted your head slightly, seeing Steve pull her into his arms, making out with her, his face covered in her slick, his cock softening against his abs. Their tongues tangled, moaning into each others mouths as he pulled the covers up, his arms wrapping around her. 
“You’re wife will be home soon, I should get going baby” She traced shapes onto his chest as he pulled her hand, pressing a kiss onto her palm.  “No, stay just a little longer, 5 minutes sweets, please?” 
The slight whine in his voice begging her to stay make you nearly throw up. Your body felt like it was filled with cement, hearing the woman giggle, snuggling to up with your husband. 
“Hmm, does she make you feel good like I do, handsome?”
“Nothing compares to you darling, don’t worry about her” He murmured with a light chuckle, leaning into her touch while she stroked his beard. "Wish we had a little longer"
She sighed, grabbing her bra off your wedding picture, scoffing at it. 
“You could do better you know, she doesn’t seem like you’re type”
“I do know” Steve sat up, kissing her shoulder as she strapped her bra on “I got you pretty girl, I’ll see you tonight?"
"Won't your wife ask where you're going" The woman had the audacity to sound annoyed though what killed you the most was the way Steve groaned in agreement.
"Don't worry about her, I’ll come over, okay?” 
“Wouldn’t miss it baby, see you later Cap” 
Your heart shattered, sprinting away from the room, down the hall and out the door, sobs wracking your body.
He promised.
He whispered vow’s he’d written just for you. You’d loved him with your entire being, cradling him, taking care of him, pouring your heart and soul into everything that had to do with him.
You already knew the excuse he'd give. He’d say he had a rough day and would avoid you until tomorrow. He’d go to the bar for a drink to unwind, needing alone time and you’d let him because you wanted to give him space. He’d go over to her place, and make love to her for countless hours into the night, seeking the comfort of someone else.
Your love wasn’t enough.  
-
You left the house, immediately getting into your car, driving mindlessly with no particular destination in mind. Your chest heaved, tears blurring your vision as you pulled into an empty parking lot, breaking down again. You sat there for well over an hour, your entire body burning, a ding from your phone interrupting your thoughts. You checked your phone, scoffing at the text message from your husband.
“Going out tonight, don’t stay up.” 
You screamed in frustration thinking about every time you fell asleep on the couch waiting for him, the countless hours of sleep you lost worried about him, calling and texting him throughout the night, wondering if he was okay. The number of times he brushed you off, telling you not to be so clingy. You’d put in so much of your love and affection for this man who didn’t have the decency to tell you to your face he didn’t love you anymore.
The entire world looked up to this man as their hero, Captain America, a symbol of justice, hope, fairness and he couldn't care less to at least respect your dignity and leave.
You felt a surge of anger, how dare he!? Bring another woman into your home, into your bed, your sheets, wrapped around her naked body, her fucking clothes thrown all over the floor. How many times would you have slept in the very same bed after he warmed it with her?!
You could do the same.
You pulled into the drive way, making your way up the stairs, knocking on the front door.
“Y/n? Its late, is everything okay? Is Steve okay?”
You scoffed, rolling your eyes, walking into the house, kicking your shoes off. Poor Bucky, always worrying about his best friend, just like you, concerned for his well being, coddling him like a baby. What a fucking waste.
“He’s great actually. He’s currently buried balls deep in someone else”
Bucky choked, staring at you wide eyed as you sauntered around the living room, mindlessly looking at framed pictures he had up, including one from your wedding.
“What?!”
“Mhm, you didn’t know? A red head. Saw them both today, in our bedroom. He was so pussy whipped he didn’t even realize I came home. In fact did you know the great Captain who constantly tells people to mind their language swears like a sailor when he's fucking someone's brains out”
“Fuck, I told him not to- FUCK. I’m so sorry y/n, I didn’t think he’d ever cheat on you”
“You told him not to what?” You turned around, your expression unreadable as you stood in front of Bucky, his face flushed as he looked at the floor before looking at you.
“He’d- fuck- He’d always flirt when we went out. I told him to stop but he said wasn't even doing anything. I thought it was him still adjusting to all the attention but he used to do it in the 40's too. I thought maybe he didn't even realize what he was doing so it was harmless”
You scoffed, shaking your head as Bucky stepped forward, wrapping his thick arms around you. “I’m so sorry doll, I should have stepped in”
“You can step in now”
“What?”
Bucky pulled back, blinking down at you, looking confused as you smirked, trailing your fingers along his chest, going up to play with the dog tags that rested against his chest.
“Step in now James”, You tugged at his chain, his breath hitching in his throat as your lips brushed by his ear “Make it go away”
You could feel his cock stir as you pressed your body on his. Bucky had always had a crush on you. Of course he never acted on it, you were his best friends wife. But here you were, offering yourself on a silver platter, he’d be a fool to say no. Still…
“Y/n” He squeezed his eyes, hoping some blood would return to his brain, his cock aching in his jeans. “We can’t”
“And why’s that?”
“It’s wrong” Bucky's words didn’t  match his actions as he gripped onto your hips, pulling you flush against him, his boner rubbing against you, it was so wrong but it felt so right.
“Tell me you never thought about it?” Your hands trailed down to palm over his length as he groaned, resting his forehead on yours “about us? You never thought about how I’d look spread out on your bed, saying your name instead of his?”
"Y/n"
"Make me forget, Sergeant"
Fuck it.
You screamed out in pleasure chanting Bucky’s name like a prayer, his cock splitting you in half, pulling orgasm after orgasm out of you. Bucky chuckled at your fucked out state, pausing for a moment to let you rest before the next round.
*3 missed calls*
He returned with a bottle of water and some strawberries, feeding you one as you tossed your phone carelessly to the side.
“What’s wrong doll”
“Ugh, he called”
Bucky thought for a moment before grabbing your phone and propping it up, a wicked smile on his face.
“You wanna show him what’s keeping you busy?”
-
You both woke to a loud banging on the door; your body too sore to bother moving.
“BUCKY OPEN THE FUCKING DOOR”
Bucky yawned, wrapping his arms around you tighter, pulling a pillow above his head.
"I think your husband is here" He sleepily mumbled, tucking his face into your neck, the scruff of his beard tickling your skin.
"He's your best friend" You mumbled back, burrowing yourself further into his hold, ignoring the incessant knocking.
“Y/N, I KNOW YOU’RE FUCKING THERE, GET THE FUCK OUT NOW”
Bucky rolled his eyes, his semi hard cock pressing into your ass making you giggle.
“Someone’s happy this morning”
“All for you baby”
You heard the banging get louder.
“BUCKY, Y/N FUCK”
“Should we get that?”
“5 more minutes”
*36 missed calls*
*47 unopened messages*
Oh, this was going to be good.
Bucky groaned, tucking you in the sheets before getting out of bed and pulling some sweats on.
“Y/N, I KNOW YOU’RE THERE”
He rolled his eyes, sauntering over to the door, opening it to a raging Steve, his chest heaving, sweat dripping down his face, the knuckles of his right hand bloodied and bruised. Someone’s upset.
“WHAT THE FUCK WERE YOU DOING”
Bucky smirked, his chin glistening, licking your arousal that was still on his lips from mere seconds ago. He made a show of sucking your taste off his fingers, humming in satisfaction.  
“Sorry, just woke u-
“Where the fuck is she?!”
Steve shoved Bucky aside, stomping up the stairs making his way to the bedroom, only to be grabbed back and pushed against the wall.
“Don’t do this, where the fuck is my wife” Steve’s voice was low, chest rumbling as his fists clenched at his sides, trying to collect himself.
“You remember you have a wife?” Bucky cocked an eyebrow, dodging Steve’s fist and catching it with his metal arm before slamming him against the wall.
“How the FUCK COULD YOU SLEEP WITH HER?!” Steve spat, unable to scrub the images of you moaning for his best friend, your legs wrapped tightly around him, crying out in pleasure, begging for more. He couldn’t rid himself of the way you looked slobbering over Bucky’s cock and balls, looking up at the camera with doe eyes, moaning when he came in your mouth, sticking your tongue out to show you swallowed it all like a good girl. You made a show of letting Bucky rail you from behind, screaming his name while he tugged your hair and pushed you down, spanking your ass raw. His dog tags hung between your breasts as he tugged and rolled your nipples between his fingers.
The words were so much worse.
"Come on, ride your Sergeants cock babydoll, that's it, so fuckin' good for me"
"Cock's too big Jamie, hurts"
Your breathy, whiny voice made Steve want to throw up, your lip chewed raw, eyes unfocused.
"Awww, is it too big? So cockdrunk for me princess, I got you love, c'mhere, y'like that? Like when I'm on top my pretty girl, I'll make you feel good baby"
"Gonna be the death of me gorgeous, wouldn't give you up for the world, you hear me? Gonna cum in your princess, can't hold it, you're perfect-FUCK"
“HOW COULD YOU CHEAT ON HER!?” Bucky’s grip tightened, feeling rage, disappointment, but also a tinge of arrogance; now he had you and he wasn’t going to let you go.
Steve swallowed thickly, no longer resisting, letting his arms drop to his side. He stared at the floor, guilt and sadness washing over him.
“How could you cheat on her” Bucky’s voice was soft now, genuinely upset over his friends actions. He let Steve go, both men standing in the hallway, the air thick with tension.
“It was a mistake”
“You brought someone else into your home, into your bed, you picked someone else over y/n, what else did you expect her to do”
Steve felt his heart race, he couldn’t lose you like this, he made impulsive choices but you were the one who always believed in him. He started towards the bedroom door again before Bucky grabbed his hand stopping him.
“I want to see her” His eyes were pleading but Bucky shook his head.
“She saw you, you know. That’s why she came here” Steve looked up at Bucky in shock, his eyes wide, he felt like he was going to throw up. Bucky scoffed looking at Steve’s pained expression.
“Just get out”
“Bucky just let me see her-
“Don’t”
Steve’s emotions were running a thousand miles a minute, jealously, anger, guilt, sadness. He drove straight to her house, needing to fuck his pain away, spiraling as he sped down the streets. He went up to her apartment, knocking at the door, hearing another voice behind the door before she opened it.
“Steve? I- what are you doing here, I- it’s not a good time” She kept the door a crack open, without letting him in, her eyes shifting nervously.
“Baby, everything okay?” A man’s voice called her from behind. She nodded, mumbling something to him before stepping into the hallway.
“What the fuck?!”
“SHH, my husband is inside!”
“You said you weren’t together any more”
“I-it’s nothing”
“How the fuck could you” Steve felt his chest tighten, he shouldn’t have even come here, he shouldn’t have been in this position in the first place, it was you in his heart, he loved you.
She scoffed. “You cheated on your wife with me and I’m supposed to hold out for you and expect you to be loyal to me too?”
Steve left without saying another word, anger surging through his body, rage flowing in his veins. How the fuck could he stray from you, he pushed you away every time you tried to take care of him. He took advantage of your kindness, took advantage of how much you trusted him. He couldn’t lose you but you were in his best friend’s arms and Bucky would never do what he did.
The house was utterly destroyed. Anything that came into his hand was shattered against the wall as Steve took all his anger out in the house. Why the fuck did he act so impulsively, how could he let you see that, why the fuck did he let someone else into his life when you were his whole heart.
He stepped into the bedroom, not wanting to touch a single thing that would take away from your presence; he wanted things to be exactly how you left them. He looked at the wedding picture on the table, breaking down into sobs; you were smiling up at him, your eyes bright, looking at him with so much affection. He had his arm around you waist, he promised to love and protect you for as long as he lived. He called you his angel, he told you he’d never hurt you and here he was.
Steve nearly threw up looking at the bed. The sheets were still tangled from that afternoon, pillows thrown aside. He washed them repeatedly, his stomach churning when he could still smell her on them.
Steve thought he was losing his mind, the coldness of the bed. The silence of the house. He could no longer smell your soft scent on the sheets, nightmares plagued his mind. His chest ached thinking about how broken you would have felt seeing him, how meaningless the entire affair was to him and it took away the one thing in his life that gave him a reason to live.
A week later
“Just sign them Steve”
“Baby please don’t do this”
You sighed in frustration having spent hours arguing with Steve as he refused to sign the divorce papers.
“You made your choice, I’m making mine”
“It was a mistake y/n, I- I can’t fucking exist without you-
“You should have thought about that before you fucked someone else in our bed Steve”
“Don’t call me that!” He pleaded with you, hating the way his name sounded, you never called him Steve.
You shook your head, getting up and leaving him with the papers as he cried after you, begging for you to stay.
“Goodbye Steve”
6 months later
You had packed your things, staying with Sarah for the time being until you found your own place. Steve was drinking himself into oblivion, unable to even get drunk from the dark liquid. He hadn’t slept in the bedroom since, staying on the couch instead.
Bucky let himself in the house; not like Steve bothered to lock it any more.
“You have to stop”
Steve scoffed bitterly, taking another swing from his glass, finishing another bottle of whisky.
“Easy for you to say”
Steve felt a pang of anger in his chest, he had no right to be mad at you or Bucky but he couldn’t help it. He couldn’t find peace, keeping a sweater you left behind with him when he tried to sleep, crying into it every night.
“Don’t. She loved you”
"But I still love her"
Bucky shook his head, a part of him feeling bad for Steve. He tried so hard to win you back, but the damage was done. The image was burnt in your mind, nothing would ever take that away. You tried to give him one chance but the second he touched you, your mind flashed to the way he touched her. You couldn’t. It was over.
“How is she”
“Doing better. Not great, but better”
3 Years later
You fixed you veil, holding onto your bouquet of flowers as you made your way down the aisle. He stood there, waiting for you, soft blue eyes brimming with tears as he watched you, his chestnut hair combed back, beard trimmed.
“You look amazing y/n” The best man gave you a teasing wink, smiling as you took your place in front of your soon to be husband.  
“Thanks Sam” You grinned,  feeling your face heat up as Bucky lifted your veil, a stray tear slipping out as he look your hands in his, his voice cracking, hardly above a whisper.
“I love you”
***
“You may kiss the bride”
You giggled as Bucky gently cupped your face, pulling you into the sweetest loving kiss, everyone in the crowd clapping and cheering, your heart fluttering with happiness. You were so in love with him; you thought you knew what love and happiness was before but nothing compared to this. This moment; so pure, so full of love.
***
Bucky held you close to him, his hands on your waist as you both swayed to your first dance as husband and wife. His hand tipped your chin up, pressing a sweet kiss to your lips; he was so utterly and deeply in love with you.
“You look gorgeous tonight Mrs. Barnes”
You giggled shyly, taking his hand in yours as the song came to an end. You made your way through the crowd, greeting guests,
“Congratulations, I’m happy for you” Steve smiled softly looking at you in Bucky’s arms. He wanted to mean what he said but his heart was still in pain. He had you and he let you go. He wanted to feel happy for you, happy for Bucky but it was too much. He swallowed the lump forming in his throat, blinking back tears as you looked up at Bucky, in pure happiness.
“Thanks punk” Bucky gave him a quick hug, keeping you by his side as you both continued to greet guests.
“They’re so sweet” Sarah giggled watching you both sneak quick kisses, Bucky whispering something in your ear making you gasp before playfully slapping his chest. Steve felt his chest tighten, getting up and leaving the room, suddenly finding it difficult to breathe.
He closed his eyes. He remembered the way you looked at him when you walked down the aisle. The way you looked so angelic in your dress. The way you danced together for the first time, your arms draped around his shoulders, his hands holding you close. The pure love he felt for you, he told himself he’d never let you cry. All the times he stopped trying because you had enough love for the both of them. He remembered the day he met her.  He hesitated but gave into his desires, the side of him that need to feel wanted by others, thinking you were with him because you loved him but he needed more. To be desired. And now here he was. He’d never be able to love again; it’d never be the same. He had the one person that would love him unconditionally and he threw it all away.
“You gotta let her go” Sam broke Steve out of his spiral, patting his shoulder lightly, giving him a sympathetic smile. “C’mon, I’ll take you home”
Steve sighed, as he watched longingly. The shy smiles, gentle touches, whispering sweet nothings to each other, he’d never get you back. You’d found your forever, your happy ending.
-
"M'always gonna love you, you have my heart" Bucky whispered against your shoulder, his bare skin pressed against yours as you both caught your breath. His fingers gently grazed your scalp, kissing your forehead, a part of him still wondering if it was all a dream.
The woman he loved so dearly under him while he made love to her on their wedding night.
Her soft thighs wrapped around his waist.
Her moans of pleasure all just for him.
All of his spend filling her up time and time again until he had no more to give.
It was all too perfect, too much too-
"And you have mine" You whispered back, draping your arms around your husbands shoulders, your hand snaking up to card your fingers through his hair, "I love you too"
And just like that it was all perfect.
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ajbullet · 4 months
Text
My thoughts on episode 5 of PJO: spoilers (less points but more info on those points because OMGS)
-Annabeth knowing Percy is still alive when even Grover HIS PROTECTER wasn’t sure
-THE HUG! THE HUG! It wasn’t some awkward oh we have to hug in this scene thing like Leah went for that hug. Gripping his shirt, closed eyes, relieved sigh and all
- The fates were so cool to see. It was funny seeing just three old ladies in the mix of all the other people
- Percy being in shock the entire first part of the quest and now finally asking the important questions and feeling a tad overwhelmed. Such a realistic, delayed reaction to everything to has happened
- Ares. Not what I imagined, but bought into him eventually. It was a cool take on his character
- Not their heads popping up from behind that cement thing like whack-a-moles. Especially Annabeth
- Persassy and Sassabeth were not having it with Ares’ shit. Sassabeth came out of the gate swinging
- Grover staying behind????
- Oh my gods my percabeth heart was filled to the brim. I was on the edge of my seat for their every line to each other. I was INVESTED
- Annabeth hasn’t seen a single movie?? But why does that fit her character so well??? Post credit scene of episode 8 her and Percy movie date please?????
- WHAT IS LOVE BABY DONT HURT ME
- Not Percy using his powers for the FIRST TIME to save Annabeth’s life
- My girl is slaying with her braids and her tears. Love it
- “You’re better that this than me. You know it.”
- SHE. FUCKING. SAID. THE. THING. Where were you when Annabeth said Seaweed Brain for the first time? I was on my couch, crying and screaming and audibly gasping. Almost choked on my own spit (yes that information was necessary)
- He sacrificed himself for her again
- “I’m not leaving the Underworld without your mom” “I was gonna say come free me after the quest” Forgot the exact quotes but omg they know each other so well already
- Annabeth has come so far already. She sees the twisted, manipulative ways of the gods and unseats of accepting it and continuing it and ignoring it, she actively tries to put an end to it. Her friend isn’t “that way.” She is wise enough to know that she once was that way but wants to change. She is the best character not because she is perfect, but because she sees, acknowledges, and accepts her flaws and actively seeks to better herself. Every award to Leah im serious
- “Thanks for the emotional abuse and cheeseburgers” me to my parents 🫣
There’s so much more I want to expand on and point out and talk about but im probably just gonna make separate mini posts. Guys this episode was EVERYTHING
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diejager · 4 months
Note
bro make a fanfic about the reader and the ghost/konig WHEN THE READER WAS SHOT IN THE BUN ON THE MISSION AHAHAHHHAH LMAO (in the military helicopter when they were supposed to return, the reader was holding her butt, moaning, writhing in pain and trying to hide the pain)
That is a funny thought…
Shots Cw: gun violence, bb shots, tell me if I missed any.
You yelped when you were hit is the ass, flinching forward and raising your arm just as you turned to glare at whoever landed the shot. Your right cheek exploded in soreness, tingling from the sharp pain of a BB shot.
“Hit!” You called it, letting your rifle hang from your shoulder as you rubbed your right cheek, grumbling about the bastard, “On my fucking ass of all places.”
You walk towards the respawn with your arm up, still cussing out whoever shot you in the ass. You had a hunch about the shooter: Soap, who else had enough courage to shoot you in the ass. You doubted Gaz did it, he might’ve been tempted, but he preferred other type of pranks, more mischievous ones like tampering with the washer or drinks, harmless but hilarious. Soap, however, rarely knew the limit, going as far as stealing and hiding your stuff, tapping you in the ass or messing up your head while he cackled away, speeding off to Ghost or Price to escape your wrath.
You reasoned that this was a staged scenario, a small group activity Laswell came up with that landed your Task Force somewhere in France for game of airsoft, a Free for all in the reserved location. No one had complained, thinking it a good activity mixing fun, training and awareness —everyone agreed to it enthusiastically once Ghost had voiced his grumpy acceptance, seeing this as a moment to be able to training without the prying eyes of others or the presence of strangers. Once you reached the spawn point, your jump back in to land a few shots at Soap to see whether or not he liked getting his ass bruised by a BB. You walked off determined, mind narrowed down to a single goal, your retaliation—
Until you yipped a second time, a pellet bouncing off your second cheek. You whipped around, yelling as your eyes scoured the tree line and the openings in the buildings behind you, the windows, the roof and behind pillars. You couldn’t find Soap anywhere, he wasn’t hiding behind the trees or in the buildings, but you did catch the glint of a scope —a familiar sniper scope.
“Ghost, you son of a bitch!” You screamed in outrage, feeling how both cheeks throbbed with pain. You bared your teeth, hissing at your Lieutenant who seemed smug and comfortable in his high perch on the roof of the building, “Why’d you do that?! I was already out!”
”Big target, luv,” his amused voice cracked in your comm, the low rumble of sadistic pleasure ringing out in your headgear. He cocked his scope, his white mask standing starkly in his dark gear and broad figure, “Impossible to miss. Quit moaning.”
“Big target? Are you-!” Huffing at his continued laughter, you glared his way before you turned to hurry back to the respawn, “Let’s see who’s laughing later, you ass.”
“Fuck- Hit!”
Your shoulders shook with restrained laughter, admiring the way Ghost jumped from your perch, hidden in the darkness given by the cement wall. You listened to him hiss and swear, massaging the place you aimed for: the pronounced curve of his ass, his jeans rarely doing him the pleasure of hiding what he had.
“Quit moaning, Ghost,” you cackled as you parroted his words, telling him the same thing as he told you, but you had more to add, more to taunt and tease him as revenge, “Couldn’t miss it, Lt, it was a big fucking target.”
You watched him stomp off, retreating to the tree line for his spawn point. It filled with a sense of elation and ugly smugness, and all that was left now, was to find Soap.
“Steamin’ Jesus!” Johnny’s yelp felt more exciting than Ghost, something you could devour over and ove without regret.
“Not so fun, is it, Johnny?” You smirked, replying with a gleeful tone.
He looked red-faced, the tip of his ears turning a bright shade of red from the way you spoke to him, utilising his known weakness and playing him to watch him stutter and flush brightly.
“Awa’ a bile yer heid! That hurt, lass!” His voice had taken a whinier tone, face screwed in embarrassment and something that you couldn’t put your finger on at this distance.
“I know, shouldn’t have shot me in the ass then.”
Gaz tapped you on the shoulder, a smile threatening to break into chuckles. He’d known what happened to you and knew what you did in retaliation, finding amusement after siding with you, sitting beside you and peering at two frowning and mumbling men.
“Heard you had a lot of fun.”
“Not enough.”
You thought you heard Price sigh tiredly.
taglist: @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @bvxygriimes @distracteddragoness @konigsblog @im-making-an-effort @daisychainsinknots @0alk0msan @danielle143 @dont-mind-me-just-existing-sadly @tuttifuckinfruttifriday @notspiders @brokenpieces-72 @petwifed @aldis-nuts @randominstake @cassiecasluciluce @hayleybarnesx
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kirbyskisses · 1 year
Text
regret || reuniting with gojo
wc: 1,060
written for @gatoru. gn!reader, the reader and gojo are married with kids, otherwise canon!compliant, light mentions of blood, angst with a happy ending, manga spoilers, probably going to become a full series, my man is home😭
minors/ageless blogs dni
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“no sorcerer dies without regrets.” it was a phrase principal masamichi liked to repeat to prospective sorcerers; you remember when he said it to itadori as you and your husband stood behind the eager, pink-haired teen that very first day he arrived into the jujutsu world - just a vessel for sukuna.
and now that same king of curses - having taken the form of your beloved adopted son megumi instead - knocks you straight down from miles high.
so here you are - falling, dying, regretting. regretting that you couldn’t see megumi’s often hidden smile again, or share banana bread with nanami one last time, or laugh as nobara gets excited at the smallest urban details of tokyo.
but then, life flashing before your eyes each second feeling like an eon - you start remembering the good too.
your kids are safe; the little pair of toddlers with their father’s white hair and blue eyes, happily tumbling around the beaches of kenya with miguel, unaware of the chaos and death surrounding you.
your students are strong. so strong. you got to live and love so many people - too many to name; yuuta, ieri, ichiji…
and satoru.
maybe it’s the rush of chemicals as your bleeding body plummets that’s causing you to hallucinate but it’s like you can see it all. like you can feel it all.
you can taste the sugar and dough of all the dessert shops he’d force you to raid with him at ungodly hours of the night. you can feel the tight grip of his larger hand around yours and how much you treasured the very act of him releasing his limitless barrier just to squeeze your warmer palm. he always ran cold and so there was a chill to the way he’d touch you and to his his lips would gently and teasingly come down to yours. then to your jaw, then to your neck.
you can feel how tight he’d hug you - sometimes joyously like when he swung you around the second you told him he’d be a father - and to twins no less - and sometimes in a fit of anger and sadness. the cold christmas morning where he killed suguru and clung to you so tightly as if you too would shatter and leave him the second he let go.
you hear the sound of his laugh, of his moans and whines when he was inside you, of his sighs of boredom on the train or when meeting with the higher ups he so loathed, his snores, or his words when he was an arrogant teenager who would use a new pick up line on you every day - they’re all ringing in your ears.
no sorcerer dies without regrets. that’s true but you still had a good life. a life with him in it. you close your eyes completely ready to smash against the ground and feel it end.
and then you stop. not on wood or pavement, no. you’re completely paused and held against cool skin and cloth. you didn’t just slow, you stopped dead. you’re paused in the air and as the adrenaline courses through your veins you think surely you’ve already hit the ground and died instantaneously. surely, this stillness is whatever comes after.
but you’re not dead because you can feel yourself breathing. and hear your own heartbeat pounding in you head. eyes scrunched shut, all the memories stop and you confirm your own survival with a heavy inhale.
everything should smell blood and cold air and cement. but instead the scent filling your nose is that distinct mix of brushwood, cologne and mochi. the ringing in your ears lessens as your breathing steadies, replaced by a single, calming apology.
“sorry, my love.”
you hesitantly open your eyes, soft white hair and blue sky-filled ones meeting your gaze with a soft, ever-confident smile.
“i didn’t mean to keep you waiting.”
“satoru…” you can barely breathe it out, taking in that he’s really here, really free, really holding you like a bride. he leans down so his forehead is against yours, hair mingling together as your breathing slows.
“don’t speak.” he murmurs softly, watching your cursed energy start the technique reversal process to heal yourself - as much as he missed your voice, your focus should be on your wounds. his eyes turn to sukuna’s direction, an unhinged anger hiding underneath his otherwise happy eyes at how the vile curse so deeply injured the love of his life.
“megumi bound himself in there, yeah? so i can kill him and not hurt our kid.”
you nod; overwhelmed as you are, your heart softens at how it’s still the same satoru who would take silly videos at megumi’s middle school graduation - a proud father-figure ready to kill the parasite that’s using his student as a host.
“and the twins? you got them out of japan?”
he warps you away from all the carnage and exhales in relief when you nod in soft confirmation. you take in your surroundings. this is your bedroom. the darkness of a simple domain covers the outside - no curses will get in. it’s home - for the first time since this disastrous chain of events started you’re home. you’re somewhere safe, your family is safe, and gojo’s here.
“that’s all i need. you did more than enough and gave him one hell of a fight, so heal up until i come back - no one will find you here.”
you open your mouth to speak but you don’t even know what to say; that you’re glad he’s home? that you’re sorry for not managing to kill sukuna or kenjaku in time? that you counted every hour he was gone afraid you’d never see his handsome face and confident demeanor again - that you love him more than life? should you thank him for saving you from certain death?
instead before you can make a solid thought, he pats your head, strokes down your face with a familiar touch and - after what felt like an eternity apart - presses his lips to yours over and over and over until he’s sure you’ve memorized both his taste and the fact that he’s here to stay. then he turns to go back with one confident proclamation.
“i’ll take it from here, okay?”
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gotham-daydreams · 7 months
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How would it have gone differently if Reader didn't try to be an "overachiever" and instead just stayed quiet and didn't interact with anyone besides Alfred until they left? Their room they left being mostly blank, with only the music journals? Giving up on trying to get their attention.
I think what's so funny about this ask, to me, is that I already have a concept like this written down (along with 3 others since the current reader I'm writing for the "Not [ ]" series is one of them but with a few missing details), so this'll be fun!
I guess it generally goes how you'd expect? Which is different for the most part, but the reader's perspective on what's happening is also different.
Granted, I would like to point out that, at least for this particular concept and the idea I have for it of how this would go, does have more stuff going on pre-Batfam that do affect how they perceive what's happening, and that's what makes things interesting in my opinion. Because someone can be naturally shy or just overall more reserved either out of nature or because they feel a certain way, but still feel bad about being neglected and, despite their lack of effort, feel that pain just as much as someone who's tried. Which is valid! Besides, someone's definition of 'trying' can vary as well.
Everyone should have a chance to have a family, and form some kind of connection with people. Just because you aren't going above and beyond for one person, doesn't mean you're undeserving of certain things. Especially not a chance to have a family, or feel like you have one. That's what I think anyway.
Nevertheless, back to the reader!
From the original concept, I will be tweaking a few things to fit the ask, but the same general outcome remains! Though again, the reader's perspective on things is a tad different. But how about this- I'll show two versions of the reader.
One that's quiet and more reserved because they gave up much earlier, or just generally hopeless really early on because maybe they felt as if anything they'd do just wouldn't be enough, who'll be accurately named Quiet!Reader. With the other being more closely related to the concept I wrote for such an idea, that we'll refer to as Waiting!Reader.
Quiet!Reader would change up things quite a bit! I won't lie!
They might already have bad self-esteem that's quick to develop at the start of things, which is something to note as that doesn't get better with time. They grow more cold and distant from the family at a quicker pace both from personal and external reasons.
Put simply, they don't feel good enough, and even if they did- anything they could do to get the Batfam's attention would never be enough in their eyes. To which, they see very early on when they try to engage and do some things with the family, only to be turned down. What doesn't help is when Quiet!Reader sees Damian get adopted and almost immediately showered with love, (compared to them) and that really cements some ideas that were already developing in their head about the family.
When Damian comes into the picture, they feel replaced. Seeing him as someone to fill in the 'youngest Wayne' role instead of them, so that Bruce and the others actually have someone to acknowledge for such a title. Just someone else to further take away the little they had.
So, they further step out of the way, glaring at the Batfam with tired eyes before that eventually stops too. Envy clawing at their heart, hatred being sent through waves of pain all throughout their body. Hurt unmatched. Yet they still remain invisible. Quiet as ever. Unnoticed. Everything they ever felt dies down, and forms a cold numbness that they begin to associate with the family.
Maybe through that, they feel closer to the family in some twisted way. Now just as cold as them. Just as talkative, and just as engaging. Almost mirroring them, but they're honest about how they feel. Honest about what they think, and therefore better. At least when compared to the Batfam- and to them, even if it wasn't a high bar to reach anyway, at least it counts for something.
It was never Damian's fault, or really about Damian at all. It could've been anyone else and Quiet!Reader would've still reacted the same way, they know that. Though just seeing the Batfam show love and care to him and not them just makes them feel... worse.
Clearly they're capable of love, and can notice new additions to the family (to which they may have mostly believed that the Batfam's neglect was just something the family did for whatever reason, and thought that them being the youngest had something to do with it for a while) and that breaks the reader. It doesn't hurt, not as much as it would've, maybe, but whatever hurt is there dies down quickly as Quiet!Reader, well, quietly accepts their fate.
The Batfam clearly wants nothing to do with them, so why should they try to do all of these things for them? It's simple, they shouldn't. So they don't. Quiet!Reader gives up, and continues to live their life without them.
The Manor just becomes a place they sleep in, and nothing else. It isn't anything close to a home, and not even Alfred can help with that.
It's because of that little fact, however, that Quiet!Reader leaves much sooner than the reader in the "Not [ ]" series. Maybe once they get a friend they can trust, they essentially end up living with said friend, hence why their room remains so empty. The notebooks they even keep in the room they have in the Manor is from when they were way younger, instead of just being from a few months ago or so. We're talking years since Quiet!Reader has touched those things now.
Maybe they do 'officially' leave a month or so before they usually would as an overachiever in the "Not [ ]" series, having only bothered to return so often before because of Alfred. Though even then, they'd forget to return most nights- only being reminded to even try and go back once Alfred would personally call them, and ask them where they were.
However now, after a while of just the time between them basically living with their friend and sleeping at the manor, they stop returning altogether. Though this time around they instead personally go to Alfred to say they're goodbyes. Not explaining much, but just saying that while they might still try to come and visit him sometimes, they don't live in the Manor anymore. Alfred already knows this, and the embrace they share fully hammers in that fact.
Yet when Quiet!Reader turns away, and leaves the Manor for good- even through the front door at that. Alfred can't help but just... miss them already.
You see, while Quiet!Reader is indeed quieter and more reserved, especially towards the Batfam, with Alfred really being the only exception, they still made music.
Maybe they didn't have as many concerts or physical, grand, live performances compared to the reader in the "Not [ ]" series, they not only started earlier, but may have actually started out on a social platform such a youtube. They really started out small, but were able to find and start their passion much earlier!
Most of what they played was when they were in the Manor, but slowly they started to get involved with things music related outside of the Manor and in Gotham- and from there were able to build themselves up even more. Hell, I'd even say that Quiet!Reader is a little more well-known and popular than the reader in the "Not [ ]" series because of the amount of extra time they dedicated to their passion.
So basically, Alfred this time around has more recordings and such of Quiet!Reader actually doing something they love than with the one in the series. However! Funnily enough, they're gone for a shorter amount of time despite having left earlier than normal.
Alfred is just, extra fed up with this nonsense, and so pulls his tricks more early on, but also make them hit harder.
He doesn't clean Quiet!Reader's room to show how long they've been gone, adding onto the emptiness and almost abandoned feeling the room itself gives off because of how bare and empty it is. They're music haunts the halls, subtle, sure, but still noticeable- especially to those who are hyper aware all the time. Pictures of Quiet!Reader and Alfred begin to be hung up, and if he can manage- some with Quiet!Reader and their friends during important parts of their life.
No one is safe from the guilt and anguish Alfred seeks to cause to not only have the Batfam look for you, but most importantly, to finally notice you.
Let's just say, things work out a little too well.
---
As for Waiting!Reader? Oh man, I've been wanting to rant about them for a while!
Unlike the reader in the "Not [ ]" series and Quiet!Reader, Waiting!Reader had some semblance of a life before getting adopted into the Batfam. Though the idea and character themself isn't musically inclined/involved in music, or even all that interested in music for that matter- for the sake of this ask, lets say they are!
I won't dabble too much into the life Waiting!Reader had before the Batfam, as if I do end up writing them I'd also like to keep some details vague (for the sake of leaving it up to interpretation and everything), but just know that during the time they were still with their original family, they were essentially taught that they should 'wait their turn', and eventually their parents would spend time with them and care for them. Hence the little name I've given them.
So! When they get to the Manor and are officially adopted, only to be neglected and ignored during their first few attempts- because of their young age, they immediately think "oh! they're just like mom and dad!" So they 'wait' for 'their turn', believing that eventually, should they wait long enough, they'll be rewarded with bonding and such from the Batfam just as they were with their previous parents.
This mindset changes what they do as well, as Waiting!Reader even goes out of their way to not bother anyone, or "get in the way" of whatever they could be doing. Waiting!Reader treats the situation so much like their previous home life, that sometimes they might even forget that the Batfam are completely different people from their parents. The only real difference that they can think of is that they're not acknowledged at all and it seems like their 'turn' never comes. Though for a while that doesn't get them down. The Batfam is busy like they're parents were! Waiting!Reader is sure that when things die down then they'll have their time.
... Hopefully.
I can imagine that part of the reason why Waiting!Reader holds on to hope for so long is because, again, their own parents constantly reassured them that they would have their time eventually. That if they behaved, and stayed out of the way, then they would go somewhere fun with their parents and essentially be rewarded for their efforts. They were conditioned to wait, to be patient, and just comply until those around them decided to actually take care of them, and spend time with them.
Of course, as they grow up the reality of the situation does hit them eventually, but during that time they do try.
Waiting!Reader helps Alfred around the house, and so they mostly bond over doing chores, among other things. They are also more mindful, and try to keep the amount of noise they back down— so they actually don't play at the Manor all that often, and instead play literally anywhere else. If and when they do play outside, around the area of the Manor like in the gardens or something, they make sure no one is around before even thinking of playing.
Alfred does help them break a few of their habits that they got while living with their parents, but the one thing he can't seem to 'fix' is how absolutely quiet Waiting!Reader is when they walk around. Which, as on can imagine, doesn't exactly help in a situation where the whole family, except for the butler, is neglecting you.
The amount of times Waiting!Reader has caught Alfred off guard is more then you'd think for someone that works with the Dark Knight, and his various sidekicks and such, over the years. Which does say something, sure, but it's also funny!
Regardless, similar to Quiet!Reader, Waiting!Reader is able to start their musical career earlier than normal, and thuse becomes a little more popular than they would originally. However, they're more known for their live performances and giving back to the community. Seemingly just like Bruce as they attend charity event after charity event, and try to do good by the people.
Waiting!Reader also does genuinely try to become a vigilante as well, but they do so in a way where they only take care of the smaller/medium guys, and leave the bigger ones to the rest of the Batfam. This is because they want to remove possible distractions for their family, and while they would try to take on "bigger guys", they don't think they're skilled enough or experienced enough to even think about it. So they don't even try. (They also don't have the same theme as the Batfam- since they don't want to 'ruin' their reputation with what they're doing or something. Which does hell them further detach themself from the family later on.)
I'd say that with Waiting!Reader, the difference between them and the Batfam is more clear to them? Like, to them, the Batfam are just so good at what they do that they have no hope of reaching them. So instead of trying to reach for them, they just do their own thing and try to help in their own way.
Because Waiting!Reader takes care of smaller guys, they are kind of closer to Waiting!Reader as a vigilante.
The best way I can put it is that while the community trusts Batman and the members of the Batfam to save their city, they trust Waiting!Reader to save their homes.
So basically- Batfam is the bigger picture while Waiting!Reader focuses on the smaller picture.
Nevertheless! Also like Quiet!Reader, Waiting!Reader actually leaves earlier. Except when they leave, they leave.
Waiting!Reader straight up leaves Gotham City to attend the college that they want to go to, in an area that has more opportunity for them, that isn't close to where the Batfam lives or patrols.
So they not only leave earlier, but it also takes the Batfam longer to find them. Especially because Waiting!Reader does still do some things in Gotham, they just don't live there anymore.
I feel like out of all three readers, Waiting!Reader definitely feels like the kind of person that someone would assume is some kind of "Phantom of the Wayne Manor," y'know?
So Alfred definitely tries to make the Batfam feel bad like he does with Quiet!Reader. Except how anyone in the Batfam is reminded that Waiting!Reader even exists, and that they've been gone for a while now is through a letter that is accidentally sent to the Wayne Manor from one of Waiting!Reader's fans. From there, some research does start and the more the Batfam learns, the more they want to go and find the reader- you know the deal.
I hope this answered your question even if I really did ramble on this time- if you'd like me to clarify anything or go into more detail on a specific part, feel free to send in an ask!
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ohimsummer · 4 months
Text
DARK RED ft. BULLY!SATOSUGU
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— minors dni, angst w/comfort, mostly bully!satoru x reader, ft. bully! suguru, one implication of male masturbation, some fluff, also one (1) kiss
summary; bully! satoru manages to seriously upset you, and now he’s scrambling to give you a genuine apology
wc 2.8k
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"I thought love was supposed to be easy."
Geto pauses mid-sip. "Oh, is that what you're calling this?"
Satoru leans further into his hand. His cheek smushes against his palm, muffling his grumbles. "Duh. What else would it be?"
"You being a dumbass."
Gleaming, white hair sways over Satoru's forehead, brushes his skin. "She wasn't supposed to react like that." You don't usually react like that, he thinks.
He toys with you all the time. The constant teasing and insults towards you is a regular occurrence, as much as you seem to hate it, but you always end up angrily leaving Gojo in the dust, and then the cycle repeats the next day. Only it was different last time; they’re your usual cries and shouts, but it’s a different type of outburst. Real tears in your eyes, your choked words of 'you suck!' and 'why can't you ever take anything seriously for once?' piercing through Gojo's heart and leaving a still-bleeding wound. They don't have your usual, pissed-off bite to them, but instead sound miserable. Heartbroken and disappointed, like the victim of a betrayal. Your expression shriveled any incoming words up in Satoru's throat, leaving him wide-eyed and dumbfounded as he watched you messily wipe away flowing tears and shove past him. That was last Wednesday, and he hasn't seen you since, not a glimpse or even a whiff of you on campus. It's like you never attended this college to begin with.
Satoru looks at his text messages with you, the last one being a dismal 'princess?' that you hadn't even read. He'd thought about threatening to leak one of the many sex tapes he had of you in his phone, but usually those coercions were bluffs, as Gojo nor Geto would dare leak their precious videos of you like that to anyone else. Besides, somehow forcing you into showing yourself made Satoru's stomach queasy. Like he'd vomit up his own heart.
"There."
He looks up at the sound of Geto's voice, following his pointed finger to the drink machine in the cafeteria. After loitering around for 2 hours, you'd finally shown up, alone and looking a little worse for wear. Even from a distance, Satoru can spot the dark circles under your eyes.
You stand idly in line, awaiting your turn to fill your cup. Eyes flitting from person to person, looking out for a fray of white strands or dark hair. It's hard to discern when the cafeteria is so busy at this hour, though you're not too concerned. Gojo and Geto don't usually frequent the cafe, not unless they're here to cause trouble. And you've been avoiding Satoru for about a week now with no complaints from either of them, so you're hoping you can get in and out without being spotted.
It’s an easy walk out of the cafeteria building, and you’re on your way back to your dorm when a familiar nickname stops you in your tracks. "Hey, princess!"
Fight or flight kicks in, and unfortunately your feet cement to the ground. His presence grows stronger as he draws near, until you can sense Gojo right behind you.
"Been avoiding me, Y/N?"
It feels off. He never really calls you by your actual name. "Why do you care?"
A few seconds of silence pass. Then, "Guess I missed my pretty girl is all."
Your heart aches for a second, before you scoff. "Sure you did. What, it's not the same making some other girl cry?"
Gojo doesn't answer, and you finally force your legs to pick up, heaving yourself towards your destination.
"Sorry."
Aaand, they're stuck again. Blinking, your head eases to the side, catching sight of Gojo in the corner of your vision. He looks awkward, staring at you with hands in his pockets and scuffing the ground as he kicks at the concrete. A knot forms in your stomach, hearing him utter an apology without his usual sarcasm or malice. It almost makes you want to talk things over, until the pain of your previous encounter comes flooding back, and you leave him standing there by himself. Rejected.
Day turns to darkness, and Satoru is stuck with another night of humping his fist like a desperate virgin. Suguru’s out, no telling where, leaving him alone with regretful thoughts to torment him. The next day passes. Then two. Then three. Satoru feels like he's going insane, and it's not just because he misses fucking you on the daily. He never realized just how much of a constant you were in his life until suddenly you weren't. Fuck. He groans into his pillow.
"Maybe give her a non-half-baked apology, like a normal person.," Geto complains. "And stop making so much noise, you're distracting."
"Fuck off."
"Fine, she can stay mad at you forever for all I care. You're the one who can't get in her pussy, not me."
Satoru jolts up, jaw falling slack as he glares at who was supposed to be his best friend. "Wha–, you're still fucking her? I just saw her for the first time again like three days ago!"
A smile stretches across Geto’s face. "Do you think our darling is stupid? Why would I get punished for your wrong-doings, she knows I’d fuck her up for that. "
Gojo flops face-down back onto the bed. "Not fair. We should be suffering together."
"Hell no, this is a personal problem between you and Y/N."
He groans again, legs kicking in the air. "Suguruuu, what do I do?"
"...Give her a genuine apology? I coulda sworn I just said that.”
"I already said sorry!"
"Genuine, I said. Not lazy. Give her something she likes."
Satoru turns slightly, brows furrowed. "What, like flowers? I don't know her favorites."
"Sunflowers."
Gojo pauses, directing a curious stink-eye towards Suguru. "And how do you know that?"
"Because I asked?"
Satoru rests a cheek against his arm, thoughts wandering off as he thinks of all the things he knows about you. Small things he's noticed. Like how you wear necklaces more often than any other jewelry, what certain colors catch your eye, things you've mentioned in passing when arguing with him. And now he does remember offering you a random weed he plucked from the ground as a joke, and you muttering 'what the fuck? for future reference, i like sunflowers’ before walking away from him.
"Suguru!," the mentioned man jolts at the sudden bellow of his name. "I'm making Y/N a bouquet!"
"Right." Geto rolls his eyes. "Do you even know how to do that?"
"Do you?"
"Not really–“
"Excellent, cancel your plans tomorrow, we're going out to get flowers!"
Suguru sighs. "Fine."
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Both men, well Satoru, and a very grumpy Suguru after being shaken to consciousness, get up bright and early the next Saturday morning in search of a florist.
"Are these vibrant enough, ya think?" Satoru questions Geto, rubbing a hand over his own chin in contemplation. These flowers needed to be perfect, he wanted only the best for his ba–, you.
"These for someone special?," the lady behind the booth inquires. She smiles politely as she admires the golden petals. "A girlfriend, or wife, perhaps?"
"Uh–“
"Wife.," Satoru cuts Geto off. "So yes, very special, indeed."
He narrows his eyes at Suguru, who poorly muffles a chuckle behind his hand. "What?"
"Nothing. Didn't know you were married, is all."
Satoru shrugs, turning to examine the sunflowers again. "Hmph. That just shows you know nothing about me."
“I know you’re a jackass.”
“Anyway,” Gojo brushes him off. “I think these look terrific, perfect for my girl. I’ll take them all!”
Silence passes. The florist’s lids flutter in astonishment. “All of them?”
“Yep! This bouquet needs to be huge!”
Suguru places a hand on his shoulder. “I think that’s enough for several bouquets.”
Gojo’s grin widens. “Even better! Give ‘em to me.”
The looks both men get as they walk the streets with giant armfuls of sunflowers are…peculiar, but Satoru is too busy firing off his own praises on how he’s going to give you the best apology of your life to notice.
“I’m gonna make her cry!,” he beams, pauses, before adding, “Happy tears this time, though.”
Shoulders bounce as Suguru laughs, unable to stifle it with his hands full of shining yellow flowers. “She might just tell you to piss off.”
“Would it kill you to have some faith in me?”
“A little, yes.”
Geto curses under his breath. ‘Shit!’ as he goes stumbling forward right over Satoru’s foot, almost loosing his grip on the assortment in his arms.
“Hey, don’t you dare drop those.,” Gojo pouts. “These are for my wife, and they’re her favorite.”
“Shut the fuck up.”
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It takes Satoru hours before he’s happy with the final product. Along with countless tutorials on how to organize a bouquet properly.
“Hold it this way.,” he commands Suguru, who rolls his tired eyes, ready to catch up on the sleep he missed this morning. “There, perfect! Wait, hold on, let me just redo this.”
“Can you hurry up?,” Geto frowns at him. “You’ve redone it like a million times already, damn.”
“Hey, my marriage is at stake here, excuse me for trying to make this look like the best bouquet she’ll ever see!”
“I’m letting go.”
“Nonowait! Okay, I’m done, promise.”
The bouquet comes out stunning, given the fact it was whipped up by two college boys who’d never created a bouquet in their lives, and especially when one of those college boys was Satoru Gojo. He boasts to Suguru, who’s yanking a blanket over his head, how it’s “his best work yet”.
“Maybe be a little more humble when you give it to her.,” Suguru grumbles as Satoru heads out, eager to present you with the display of his apologetic affections.
There’s a certain pep in his step, an excitement Gojo doesn’t often feel unless it’s to see your pretty face. Elated can’t even begin to describe it. The image of your soft lips curling into a smile, eyes sparkling as you see the large array of your favorite flowers, pushes Satoru closer and closer to your dorm building, which stands tall before him. He can’t help but mentally pat himself on the back. Heart swelling, Gojo can see it now, this surprise is going to make you ecstatic–
“Gojo?”
He halts mid-stride, foot hovering in the air, arms loosening around the bouquet. Satoru turns towards the sound and there you are, standing ten feet from him. Your mouth is open in a small ‘o’ as you notice the gift in his hand. Both of you stand there for a moment, eyeing each other, before you eventually break the silence.
“What’s that?”
Satoru snaps back to life, fumbling terribly to stuff the large bouquet behind his back, and he damns himself for making something so awkwardly huge. You watch, biting back a giggle, as he tries to hide what you’ve so obviously seen already. He stutters “u-uh, nothing!’ as a few petals flutter down from his hard work, and he curses ‘fuck!’.
It's easy to sneak up on Gojo when he's so busy floundering with the bunch of flowers. Your mouth threatens to grow into a smile, teeth sinking into your lips at the outlandish sight of him struggling to completely conceal the massive bouquet from your sight. The sharp pinch of your fingertips on his shoulder snatches Gojo from his frantic thoughts.
“Is this your way of apologizing again?”
“No!,” is his instant reply, startling you until Gojo averts his gaze to the concrete. “I mean...yeah. You ruined the surprise.”
This interaction feels more routine, less delicate. The way his lips jut out in a pout, his teasing banter. Crossing arms over your chest, you give Gojo an unamused look. “Ummm, it’s huge. How did you plan on hiding that from me?”
“…”
Satoru thinks his heart stutters as you hold out your arms, hands gesturing for the bouquet, and he slowly reveals the assortment of flowers behind his back. Through his panicked, rushed efforts to hide them, the paper has torn, some of the flowers are missing petals, and some aren’t in the exact position he and Suguru had so meticulously arranged them.
“Dumbass.,” you huff, wrapping fingers around the stems, which are adorned with a crinkly, cream colored paper and a dark green bow. “I’m still mad with you.”
Satoru’s breath hitches as your fingers brush his, as if it's the first time he's ever touched you. He relinquishes hold of the bouquet. “You like ‘em, though? Don’t lie, I can tell.”
“Just shut up.”
He flashes you a toothy, boyish grin, one that makes your heart beat a little faster. “It’s all for you, my pretty Y/N.”
Eyes rolling, you intently study the bouquet, raising it to hide your flustered expression. A warmth creeps over your body at the way Satoru utters your name, like if he says it too loudly, it will break apart into glass pieces. The paper creases under your restless fingers.
“Thank you, Satoru.”
The flowers are striking, but Gojo doesn’t think they compare at all to your beauty. Blue eyes admire you, at the way you marvel over the bunch of sunflowers, beaming at how fresh and vibrant and downright captivating they are. You glance up to meet Satoru’s eye, and he rubs at the back of his neck.
“So, uh,” he starts, avoiding your gaze. “I’m sorry about what I said. Really didn’t mean to upset you that much.”
Your eyes narrow. “That much?”
“Well, you know you’re really hot when you’re mad, but I didn’t mean to do that–“
“And did I look hot then?”
“No! Well, you weren’t ugly, but I didn’t like seeing you so upset–, usually it’s a turn on when you’re all angry but it felt different that time and Suguru didn’t tell me until later you were having a super rough day so I figured I might have hit a nerve–“
You cradle the bouquet to your chest, thoroughly enjoying the clumsy flow of his words, determined not to dig himself a deeper hole or upset you all over again. His lips pause, and then Gojo interrupts another sentence with a new one, before the downturn of his brows as he catches your gleaming eyes.
“My point is that I’m sorry.” He spots the twitch of your frown. “I know you wanna smile, let me see it.”
You can’t help but grin as your mouth opens. “No I don’t. And I guess you’re forgiven, now get away from me so I can enjoy my bouquet in peace.”
“Wait, that’s not it!” Before you turn away, Satoru reaches into his back pocket to pull out a small, white, silk bag with a white ribbon securing the opening. “I got this too. Here.”
You recognize the design of the tiny sack from a rather expensive jewelry store, one you could only dream of buying from. And now here you were, in possession of something from that same store, mouth gaping open as Satoru snickers.
“You just gonna stare, baby, or…?”
The fabric of the bag is soft in your hands, smooth and easy on your fingers. Hugging the bouquet to your side, the ribbon loosens to reveal a dainty, silver necklace inside, adorned with a small, heart charm engraved with your initials.
“Oh, wow . .” You’re awestruck at how delicate and pretty it looks. Turning it over, you find a “G.S” on the other side of the heart. “And Suguru’s initials on the back? How sweet.”
“Don’t play.”
“Whatever.,” you giggle at his downturned lips. “It’s very nice, I like it.”
Satoru can’t help pat himself on the back. “Yeah, it is, isn’t it? Cost a hefty chunk of change, especially since I wanted it so quick and on such short notice–“
“Uh huh.” This big dummy. Your smile grows at the thought.
“–and you know I just had to get the best for my pretty girl, plus I got kinda hard at the thought of my initials on your chest–“
Gojo’s words catch in his throat at the soft press of your lips to his cheek. Blood shoots to his face, instantly, and you can’t help bursting into a round of giggles, barely gasping out ‘you look like a strawberry!’. He’s so embarrassed that the realization that you willingly kissed him of your own accord doesn’t even register. All Satoru feels is a burning heat on his cheeks and a tightness in his chest, desire squeezing a fist around his heart as you smirk up at him through a fit of laughter.
“You are really somethin’ else. Bye, Satoru, also learn to stop talking sometimes.”
All Gojo can do is wave as you depart, leaving you with a ‘see ya, princess’ as you disappear into the building, sparing him one last glance. His phone vibrates as you leave his line of sight, announcing a text from Suguru.
asshole🤮: you give it to her yet?
s: i thought the sleeping beauty was getting a nap in?
asshole🤮: she told you to fuck off, didn’t she?
s: stfu
927 notes · View notes
freedomfireflies · 2 months
Note
any chance we can get asher back for mine!harry blurb? i miss my pookie :(
Summary: The one where you're not feeling so hot and Harry and Asher just want to help.
Word Count: 1.1k
Content Warning: 18+, very brief smut, very brief daddy kink, lots of fluff, not suitable for Ramadan!
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“That’s it…good. Take it…fucking take me, mama.”
With every thrust and drive of Harry's hips, you can’t help but whimper. Nails scratching down his broad back while his nose dances along your cheek. You feel whole. Connected. In tune to his pleasure as you tighten your legs around his hips and kiss him.
“So fucking wet, sugar,” he exhales. His thumb finds your clit and he rubs in fast, determined circles. “S’it feel good? My baby’s cunny just needed some attention, hm? Needed me to fill her up?”
You nod—about the only coherent response you can offer—and melt into the feel of his mouth moving to your chest. It feels good. This is what you needed. You’ve missed him. And you needed someone to scratch this itch and make things right again.
And then, a throat clears.
Not yours. Not Harry’s.
Asher’s.
He’s standing in the doorway to the bedroom, watching. His kind eyes are now suspicious and deviant. And he’s not looking at Harry. He’s looking at you.
And you know why.
Harry doesn’t mind the audience. He continues, strong hands cemented to your hips as he tugs you up in order to get a better angle. “You all right, Ash?” he calls.
Asher raises his chin. “Tell him,” he says to you. Resolute. Unwavering in a way that suggests he won't be letting this go.
You hesitate, stomach dropping as the threat of punishment hangs heavy in the air. 
Harry smirks. “Tell me what?” 
You shake your head. “Nothing,” you whisper before shooting a pointed look toward the door. “Nothing.”
“Sweetheart,” Asher warns, crossing his arms before leaning against the frame. “It’ll be worse if I have to tell him.”
Now Harry seems to understand and begins to slow his thrusts, offering you a curious expression meant to calm you. “What’s wrong, mama?”
You chew on your lip. You don’t want to tell him. You want this and you attempt to clench around his cock in order to get him to continue.
He smiles.
“She had a fever this morning,” Asher finally says and you bite back a groan. “She’s been dizzy all day and nearly fainted earlier. I told her to stay in bed and rest. Not do anything too strenuous. But I have a feeling she didn’t mention that to you.”
Harry’s grin instantly fades into disappointment and you know, undoubtedly, that you’re in rather big trouble now. 
The one thing they prioritize more than anything is your health and safety.
“Sugar,” Harry starts, and you feel your heart skip, “are you not feeling well?”
You squirm beneath him. “I’m…I’m fine. I’m okay to do this—”
“Were you sick this morning?”
“…I was just…I mean, maybe a little, but—”
“Did you know you were going against Asher’s request when you begged me to fuck you?” he says firmly, and your skin feels like it’s on fire. You hate upsetting him. “Were you purposefully disobeying him?”
Shit, shit, shit. “I…I wasn’t trying to, I just…I missed you.”
And it’s the truth. You have missed him. You weren’t trying to be defiant, but you love Harry and you wanted to feel him. And you figured an orgasm could be just what the doctor ordered. 
His features soften now as he dips down to kiss your nose. “I know, mama. I’ve missed you, too. But you know better than to disobey, don’t you?”
Regretfully, you nod.
“Then, I’m gonna ask you a question and I expect the truth. Is that understood?”
Another nod.
“Are you unwell right now? Do you feel tired or feverish or even the slightest bit uncomfortable?”
You could lie. You could tell him that you’ve been fucked back to health. That you rested and now you’re replenished.
But he’d know. And you’d know. And Asher would know.
So, you thread your fingers through his curls and whisper, “I’m…a little tired. And sore."
His expression falls. He’s gutted to know you're in pain but proud of you for finally admitting it. “Good girl,” he says before he kisses your cheek and begins to pull out. “All right then. Are you gonna let us take care of you now? The right way?”
Almost begrudgingly, you nod once again and melt into the mattress as he and Asher discuss the best way to help.
They run you a bath and help carry you to the tub. Harry joins you in the warm water and pulls you between his legs so he can sweep a washcloth up and down your clammy skin. Helping you feel clean and calm.
And when you're through, Asher is there with a big, fluffy towel to wrap you up in. Drying you off gently before bringing you back to bed and kissing your temple sweetly while tucking you beneath the covers.
“Thank you,” you say faintly as he runs his thumb over your cheek. “Even though you’re a snitch.”
He laughs. “Mhm. And I’d do it again.”
With that, he leaves you and Harry alone for the evening, something Harry is more than all right with.
He crawls into bed beside you, quickly pulling you to his chest before taking your temperature and offering you medicine and water. 
“I’m sorry you didn’t get to finish,” you whisper as he’s turning out the light.
However, even in the dark, you can anticipate his frown. “Sugar…finishing is not the goal for me. You know that. I like to finish with you, but I don’t fuck you for that. I fuck you because I love you. I want to be close to you. I want to feel you and make you finish.”
You run your fingers down his chest and sigh. “I know, I just…I like when you do. I like that I can do that for you.”
You feel his lips brush across your forehead before he’s wrapping you between his arms. “I know, mama. I’ll make you a deal. Once you’re well again, I’ll fuck you as many times as you want. Make you cum over and over and over again. Until you’re all sensitive and overstimulated.”
You grin. “Yeah?”
“Yeah. And you’ll take it, won’t you?”
“Yes, daddy.”
“Mhm. That’s what I thought.” He chuckles before there’s a long, silent lull. “I love you. You know that?”
Your heart just about explodes out of your chest. “I love you, too.”
“Good.” Another kiss. Soft. Gentle. “Horny little thing. Even got Asher to tell on you.”
“I know,” you laugh. “I was kind of surprised. But to be fair, I didn’t really disobey him. I was on bed rest. We were doing missionary, and you were doing all the work. All I had to do was lay there.”
Harry laughs and the sound is beautiful. “And you’re sneaky, too, hm?”
“Hey, an orgasm a day keeps the doctor away.”
“All right, that’s enough out of you. Go to sleep, yeah?” He pinches your hip. “We’ll discuss this when you’re better. But something tells me Asher won’t be so willing to let you off the hook.”
You smile.
“Good.”
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Okay fine I missed Asher, too 😭 HE IS CUTE WHEN HE WANTS TO BE!!
~ Mine Masterlist
~ Main Masterlist
Taglist: @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @keepdrivingkisses @swiftmendeshoran @tiredinwinter @straightontilmornin @justlemmeadoreyou @harrysdaydreams @tiaamberxx @peterparker1sgf @myfavfanficsever @littlenatilda @vamprry @fdl305 @tchalametishot @ssaama @indierockgirrl @likeapplejuicenpeach @lukesaprince @closureesny @lc-fics @0nlythrowharrybeaux @hannahdressedasabanana @dylanobandposts21 @butdaddyilovehim-hs @floral-recs @itjustkindahappenedreally @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @laelamarley @acesofspadess @stylesfever @caynonmoondreams  @virginvirgo @pagesfalling @creativelyeva @char112244 @snwells @armystay89 @oh-my-hecky-padalecki @blackbookwhore @nellylayhoohoo @22fallenangel22 @watercolorskyy @ilovedilfs32 @nicodoesntexist @lelenikki @happypoptart 
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astrayzmoa · 16 days
Text
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𝐓𝐗𝐓 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒 —> "𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐏𝐄𝐄𝐋 𝐌𝐘 𝐎𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄?" —> 𝐏𝐄𝐄𝐋 𝐌𝐘 𝐎𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐎𝐑𝐘
Genre —> Fluff
—> will txt peel your orange for you? Will they complain? Will they not do it? Will they do it willingly?
၄၃
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YEONJUN
• what the flip guys
• you sometimes don't even have to ask, if he's getting himself fruit to eat he's getting you some too in a cute little bowl so y'all can eat your fruits together
• like...if you ask him to peel you an orange then okay sure no problem baby!!
• bro doesn't even think twice
• if his baby want their orange peeled bc they don't want it to get in their nails then sure!!! He loves you too much tbh
• just wouldn't question it too much so dont worry! You're all in good hands
• def a guy tho to do acts of service a lot for you, even if you ask or not
• baby js cares and wants to make sure you're okay! He def has the urge to take care of you a lot.
SOOBIN
• papa bunny does it usually when you're sick, unless you ask ofc
• like, if you're sick he'll get you some fruit he knows you love and give you it without asking for it
• any other time tho you'll have to ask him and tell him because you don't feel like getting your hands messy/sticky (or any other excuse lol)
• "yeah, okay..sure." shows a tiny little dimple smile and does it!!!>0<
• WITH A FOREHEAD SMOOCH AFTER OFC GRRR OTL
• easy, right?
• hes just glad to help you honestly
• "you feelin' better, baby? A little? Ok, get some more rest, sweet girl." With his little 🥺 staring at you and and and😭
• okay but realistically he sometimes just stares at you :D and then shakes his head and says, "ahh, no." Lololol he's joking pls joke back.
BEOMGYU
• oooo he's a menace
• tease you a little before giving in lol
• "wha? Why?..oh, hmm..no." then he'll get up and push you down if you try and get up to do it yourself 💀
• cutiee, he just likes to mess with you
• but he'll cut you some fruit! Tho he might make a mess so🧍🏻‍♀️
• no matter how it turns out pls eat it n be happy he worked hard😓
• if he's getting himself food or a snack or a drink or wtvr he'll get you one too without saying anything or you asking
• gyuie's just cute like that guys
• "here!!!! I bought you a drink! :)" pls take it and thank him and drink it happily 😭🙏🏻
TAEHYUN
• nooo cause his love language is def acts of service
• so he def does things for you a lot, me thinks
• you're cold? Cool here's his hoodie
• oh, you're hungry? Don't worry you'll be filled up real soon, he's cooking you something!!>.<
• he will gladly peel you an orange if you want one, an apple, he will peel it if it's peelable guys
• "mhm, okay." 5 mins later, "here, eat up, pretty girl."
• OTL
• I need him so bad guys😭
• idk he's just really thoughtful and always puts you before himself
• especially when it comes to health and food n stuff
• "here, have the rest of my food I'm full." *You end up feeding him some while you finish it.*
HUENINGKAI
• HES SO SWEET GOD PLS I NEED HIM 🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻
• whenever he eats something I know he gives you a few bites even if you have your own
• def rubs your tummy after you're done eating I'm sobbing
• 🧍🏻‍♀️
• but, anyway, hes just very thoughtful and wants to make sure you're okay
• "babyyyy! Would you like some? I figured we could try it since we've never had it before." You agree and he's so happy and he airplanes you the food IM BITING CEMENT
• this is so offtrack😭
• erm moral of the story he thinks of you a lot so yes, he in fact would peel you an orange and care for you happily!>0<
• at first tho he'll prob give you the most confused face ever bc you've never had a problem before..? But okay!!😊
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redr0sewrites · 1 month
Note
Can you write Vox x reader where like the reader just says like really unhinged things and just like vile things whenever they rage and stuff like the internet could be slow or smth and the reader is just like “IM GOING TO RIP OFF MY SKIN” idk man I’m kinda just self projecting rn like you can right anything with it tbh idk sorry for rambling anyway you don’t have to do this if you don’t wanna
THIS IS SO MEEEEE I LOVE THIS IDEA SM!!! sorry it took me a hot minute to reply to this i have over 70 hazbin hotel requests in my inbox 😭
🥀Cw: fluff, crack, silly vox
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when he first met you, vox was charmed by your seemingly sweet nature- that is, until you were pissed
your unholy screech of how you were going to rip off your skin if he cut the wifi again was both endearing and confusing in his eyes
vox would just short circuit for a second, just blinking at you while he tries to process what you just said
once it clicks, he just starts giggling. vox very rarely genuinely laughs, most of his laughs are professional or part of the persona he adopts as the leader of vox enterprises, but when he's so shocked by what you just said, he can't control the booming laughter thay fills the room
he's wheezing and gasping, each barking laugh only pissing you off more
"what's so funny? if you keep laughing i am going to fucking break ur fingers like carrot sticks!" you snap, and vox only giggles harder
after a few seconds, you can't help but notice how adorable his laughter is, and soon you don't mind it as much
once you two are officially together, you notice how stressed vox often is, yet how he seems to visibly relax around you
the batshit crazy things you say, which normally disgusts other people, only seem to amuse him
its actually a wonderful dynamic because you bring some spontaneity and slight insanity into vox's otherwise irritating and depressing lifestyle, and vox balances out the crazy things you say and calms you down every time
you often find yourself searching for new phrases to baffle him with, and for new ways to make him laugh
after vox has a stressful day, he enjoys just listening to you ramble about the most insane things and adores hearing whatever fucked up saying you've adopted recently
vox notices himself beginning to copy your speech patterns. he only begins to realize when he slips in an exceptionally odd metaphor into a work meeting and everyone stares at him, yet his heart skips a beat at the thought
there's something so charming to him about the fact that he's adopting your mannerisms, and you truly make him laugh when no one else can
whenever another one of the vees pisses him off, he always comes to you for advice on incredibly deranged comebacks, and you never disappoint!
he's won multiple arguments by just repeating one of your fucked up sayings and the other vees being too lowkey shocked to disagree
vox LOVES IT when you diss people he hates, hearing you ramble some fucked up insults about alastor made him fall in love with you all over again
"that worm on a string fucked up karen cut bob looking ass- if i see him around here again im going to eat a fucking brick" *cue vox looking at you with the biggest heart eyes*
overall, you are both menaces, but you're menaces in love ♥️
vox lay with his head in your lap, the blue light of his screen illuminating the dim room as you rambled mindlessly about your day.
"and THEN, this fucking asshole tried to flirt with me! ME!! as if he doesn't know were dating! ugh, it makes me feel like i have an entire beehive living beneath my skin. i swear if he even looks at me again im going to lick wet cement i can NOT deal. how can you even work with him? he's such a fucking CREEP voxy, i'm going to cut off those ugly ass wings and shove them so far down his throat- hey, are you even listening?"
you look down to see vox half asleep, his eyelids drooping as his light dimmed. "keep talking.." he murmurs, looking up at you with a lazy smile on his face. "you're my favorite person t' listen to.."
i love the idea of vox with a partner who challenges his very idea of power. he clearly wraps himself in a sort of persona, surrounding himself with powerful people and acting like he's so serious and important. i love the idea of him falling in love with someone who can break down his walls in seconds, someone who can dismantle his entire bravado act and who allows him to truly be himself. this is such a wonderful prompt and i am eating this up. nonnie ur awesome!!!!
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lxkeee · 2 months
Text
IT'S BEEN SO LONG
-PART THREE
pairing: Lucifer Morningstar x Adopted! Fem angel! Reader [platonic!]
fandom: Hazbin Hotel
genre: fluff and cute
notes: a little bit short but meh
PART ONE | PART TWO | PART FOUR ❘ NAVIGATION
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“Now... Where's that body...?” [y/n] muttered, looking at the golden holographic map that was coming out of her wrist watch, a blinking dot flickers on the holographic screen. She scrunched up her nose as the scent of smoke, dust, and blood fills her nostrils. I do hope my father is living somewhere far better than the streets of hell, this place is nasty. She thought before shaking her head.
She looked up ahead to see the hotel by the cliff, looking back at the hologram—it seems the body is somewhere by the hotel.
“You have got to be kidding me.” [y/n] muttered underneath her breath. She looked around—no one in sight, with a snap of her fingers, her angel wings disappeared along with her halo that transformed into a golden Laurel wreath that is on her head. Her usual white and gold dress transformed into a plain black one.
“There, I think this is a good camouflage.” she murmured to herself, adjusting her sling back before eventually beginning to trek the cliff towards the hotel.
Finally arriving, she got a good look at the name of the hotel—Hazbin Hotel, very witty, she thought.
“Isn't this the hotel Charlotte Morningstar made? If she's Lucifer's daughter, then does that mean she's my younger step sister?” she wondered before shrugging. Deciding not to knock on the hotel doors and go straight to where Adam's supposed dead body is—which is buried underneath a pile of rubble somewhere a few meters away from the hotel. Truly sad to see but the man got it coming—he was an asshole, to think he was the first man and the first soul to go to heaven but died in hell.
Why do we need to bring him back up again? Oh right... God's favorite.
[Y/n] sighs loudly, moving her hand over the hologram and a keyboard appears. Her fingers danced across the screen as she requested some angel workers to retrieve it.
She sighs, turning back to look at the hotel behind her. Now to get a report on what exactly happened, she thought. I wonder if dad is there? She wondered to herself, she really wanted to see him and hug him, she truly missed her father after all.
Her heels clicked the cement pavement as she walked back to the front of the hotel, climbing up the few steps of stairs till she finally reached the tinted glass front doors.
Maybe I should wear my halo? To let them know I'm from heaven?
She thought and hummed before nodding to herself, snapping her fingers and her halo was once more on top of her head, glowing in angelic pride and power.
She took a deep breath, I can do this. She thought before curling her fingers into her knuckles, bringing it up and then knocking on the glass doors.
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Knock, knock, knock.
Charlie stopped talking to Vaggie and Alastor when they heard a knock from the front door, Charlie's eyes sparkled excitedly. A visitor or perhaps a guest?!
“My~ it seems we have a guest, dear.” Alastor grins, leaning against his microphone, “Perhaps after the extermination, it gave hope to these hopeless sinners.” he added, his smirk widening.
Charlie grinned, she too hoped that would be the case.
Vaggie placed a hand on her girlfriend's shoulder, giving Charlie a reassuring smile, “You got this, babe.” she says and Charlie nodded, adjusting her clothes to look presentable.
With a deep breath she walked towards the door, trying to calm her excited heart.
Charlie finally held the handle of the door, opened it and.... A woman slightly taller than her is standing outside, a smile on her face and wait a minute, is that a halo?!
Charlie's eyes widened, she can practically feel the woman's power radiating off her, dare she say it's stronger than Adam's.
She's nervous, almost scared even. What is an angel doing here?
“A pleasant evening, are you perhaps Charlotte Morningstar?” the woman asked, her voice gentle and smooth to the ear, it calms Charlie down. Making the princess of hell lower her guard a bit before she shakes her head. I need to be on guard, I don't know what she wants and I need to be ready.
Charlie took a deep breath before giving the angel a smile, “Yes, that is me! Is there something you need from me? I didn't know heaven would be sending someone today.” she says and the angelic woman chuckled.
“It was so sudden that we couldn't send an advance notice.” The angel chuckled softly and Charlie just looked at her in confusion.
“But to make things easier, I am here to collect Adam's body and also collect data to file a report of what exactly happened during the recent extermination.” The angel says, sighing and slumping her shoulders. Charlie could tell that the woman was annoyed by the situation.
Charlie looked at the woman with slight hesitancy, “Is that all...?” she asked, nervously and the angel nodded.
“Certainly,” She smiles before her eyes widened and she gives Charlie a small and short bow, “How rude of me, I forgot to introduce myself. I am [Y/n], one of heaven's messengers. It is a pleasure to meet you, Princess Morningstar.” [Y/n] says with a smile, offering her hand for a handshake in which Charlie returned. Charlie shivered slightly as she felt how cold the angel's hands were.
The name certainly rings a bell to Charlie, she swore she heard that name before then her eyes widened, don't tell me..? The name, the very cold hands... Is this the girl her dad was talking about?
“Are you... My dad's adopted daughter...?” Charlie questioned, her voice almost a whisper and [Y/n]'s eyes softened.
So he does remember me. [Y/n] thought, a smile on her face.
“Yes, that is indeed me, so dad talked about me huh?” she answered and asked and Charlie's smile widened, her big sister is here!
Charlie chuckled, “Yeah, he told me about you recently.” she says with a shrug and [Y/n] giggles, “Well, at least he didn't forget about me.”
Charlie smiled, moving away from the door so [Y/n] can enter, “Of course, he didn't. Oh, please do come in.”
[Y/n] nodded with a smile, “Thank you.” she says and enters the hotel.
“Do you want me to tell him that you're here? Do you want to see him?” Charlie asked, guiding the angel through the hotel's hallway that leads to the lobby where the bar is.
[Y/n] smiled, “Please do, it's been ages since I've last seen him.” she says, almost pleading and Charlie smiled, whipping out her phone to text her dad before returning it back to her pocket. Her dad is back at the palace as he had some things to get from his room.
“I am sure he misses you too, how about we finish that report while we wait?” Charlie suggested and [Y/n] nodded, “That's a good idea.”
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Lucifer was in his room, arranging some things into a box. He heard his phone beep and opened it to see a text from his daughter.
Come back to the hotel as soon as possible, someone wants to see you and it is someone important.
Lucifer raised an eyebrow, wondering who could possibly be looking for him. He shrugs, they can wait.
He returned his phone back to his pocket and continued on putting the rubber ducks inside the boxes.
Another beep was heard and he sighed, opening to see another text from Charlie.
If you're wondering who could possibly be looking for you, their name is [Y/n];)
Lucifer never teleported so fast in his entire life.
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TAGLIST:
@adaizel @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @thedarkkitten @selvyyr @froggybich @brithedemonspawn @kottenox @totallymitya @many-fandoms-lover @dou-dou @mezzyb0nb0n @n1chxyaaenthusiast @cherry-4200 @koirb @galaxyj3lly @crystalplays28 @luleck @scootinonyourmom @rory-cakes @mixplara @crescent-z @bitchyzombienacho @kalisha2004 @altervex @nehy019 @napbatata @kouyoumarryme @sxgacxbe @kooidoom @yukichan67 @apple-pop @akiralovespenguins @storydays @kaurochika @amphiroxx @lil-writer-523 @avitute @lbcreations-blog @dreamzaremyrealityy @des-deswain5621 @snoozewritezz @uiquz @randomuser-89 @flowerboy4eva @apollobeans @des-deswain5621 @sirenetheblogger @astitikeslay
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hotxcheeto · 9 months
Note
Hey, horny anon here lol ! I hope you’re doing well !
May I request a vi x female reader smut where they’re both so horny that they almost start having sexe in a public place and finished it somewhere more private with vi being a dom ?
Thank you soooo much for your amazing writing !!
━ 𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐄𝐓 𝐀𝐅𝐅𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐒
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𝙥𝙖𝙞𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜(𝙨) - Vi x Fem!Reader
𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨 - Cursing, public sex, v fingering ( r! receiving ), kissing, biting, light descriptions of c*m, make out sesh, mentions of discomfort, dom!vi, sub!reader
𝙥𝙧𝙤𝙤𝙛𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙 ? - Yeah/Nope
𝙖𝙪𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙧'𝙨 𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙚 - wowzers this took me forever, ty sm!! ily!!
REBLOG MY WORK! I WORK HARD & IT'S APPRECIATED!!
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"They're watching..."
You whispered against her lips, bouquet halfway falling on the ground, hanging by a threat in your grasp as she kissed you over and over. Her lips running down then up, sucking and biting bits of your neck wherever she desired.
"Let 'em." She muttered, peaking from the corner of her eye at the boys that had been staring you down earlier that day. Their faces in slight shock and even disappointment. Trying not to look while their faces turned red from frustration and their eyes rolled.
They'd been watching you pick out the flowers from the stand while Vi handed the vendor the money. Such an awful assumption that she'd been just a friend, truly, because Violet was far from a mere everyday acquaintance you'd meet up with.
"But-" She cut you off by kissing you, smirking against your mouth when you let out a gasp, reciprocating almost immediatley. Her hands were on your hips while one of yours was placed firmly on her chest, the other trying to keep the petals from scraping the cement.
She tasted like alcohol, the same drink she'd bought earlier in the day when you stopped at your bartending job to grab your forgotten jacket from the day prior. It was a new menu item, a fruity kind you wanted her to try.
You were very glad for it now.
"Feels good..." You whispered, chasing her lips when she pulled back a bit. "Yeah?" She hummed, hand dancing down to the button on your jeans. "Not here." You looked at her, suddenly very worried and very much filled with a plea for privacy.
"Relax, cupcake, I wasn't gonna." She pulled you forward by your waistband, nodding to the alleyway just a little ways down. "But I will once they aren't fucking looking."
You hesitated when the offer arose, looking at the alley before the thump, thump, thump of your arousal made you give in. Looking at her with a pouty lip and a look that screamed you were ready to be taken care of.
"Really fast okay?" You asked, watching her nod her head and grab at the back of your neck. "No promises, pretty girl." "Vi..."
You dragged her name as she pulled you behind a tower of boxes, blocking your view of the road, and the view of you from the former.
"What about my flowers?" You huffed, feeling her take them from your hand before you even got to turn around. The bouquet nicely sat on top of a box, and by the time you were looking back at her, your button was undone and your zipper was between her fingers.
"Violet-" Your head lolled up, catching her lips as your jeans shimmied down your thighs exposing your pretty panties to her. And only her.
"Look at that..." She nipped your jaw, pressing her forehead against her own while looking down at your lower half. "So pretty, sugar."
Vi met your eyes, hand slipping in and over your cunt, the tips of her fingers brushing your wetness as your small breaths fanned her face.
"Can I?" You nodded your head, grip wrapping around her wrist as a finger just barely brushed over your clit making you whine. You wanted more, not caring who could walk into the one way alley, only caring that she still wasn't moving how you wanted her to.
"Please Vi..." You whispered, her digits soon circling around your clit slowly. Kisses running down your neck while she inched closer and closer to your hole.
"I need to hear you say it." She spoke quietly, looking down at where her hand disappeared into your pants. "I wanna hear what you want, Y/n." Rarely did your actual name pass her lips, opting for more sensual options, usually.
"I want your fingers inside me-" The sentence barely got to pass your lips when she entered you, mouth falling agape and grip tightening on her arm. "Oh-"
The sounds of chatting were muffled, the dudes from earlier forgotten. You felt the way her fingers ran against your walls again and again while the rest of your hand sloppily bumped your clit here and there.
You subconsciously spread your legs, her other arm keeping you balanced against the brick wall. Though, all you could focus on was the way she reached deep inside, her fingers long but thick. Two was enough...
..but then came a third.
"I- I can't-" She ignored you though, only silently nodding her head, her nose bumping your own as she softly whispered sweet things to you. Things you could barely hear over your quiet cries, trying your hardest to be quiet even though you knew the people walking by were far too loud and too uncaring to hear or investigate the sounds.
"Feels good... oh-" Your head dug into the cement bricks, ignoring the discomfort and instead digging your nails into her pale skin. "Faster, please Vi.." Vi nodded again, kissing the spot between your eyebrows while moving her hand in out at a pace that caused a light wet sound to meet your ears.
You felt so nasty, all exposed without a care, humping into her hand wanting nothing but release. And they way her hand just kept nudging your little bundle of nerves brought you closer and closer. You couldn't look her in the eye, looking everywhere but at her.
Your favorite, was watching her hand.
Her other hand gripped your other leg, taking you off guard. You nearly yelled at the deeper angle, clenching your teeth and crying out to her, finally seeing the way her pupils grew at the sight of your trapped nature. You had nowhere to go, only taking what she was giving you without even a complaint.
"M'gonna-" "I know, cupcake."
You let it happen, you wanted it. Moaning and bucking towards her fingers. Clawing at her, begging for her to keep going, then to stop. You felt it everywhere, you felt her everywhere as you came. Legs giving out beneath you,
but she wasn't going to let you fall.
"Think they're still there?" Vi asked, your mind hazy and as heavy as fluff. You could barely hear her let alone process what she was saying with her digits still deep inside your cunt. Cum leaking from your hole and onto her flesh, that's what you were thinking about.
"I dunno..." You muttered, earning yourself a kiss on the cheek, and then another and another. You giggled, her hand coming out from your pants and moving to her mouth to suck them clean.
"That's gross..." She smirked at your words, shrugging her shoulders while reaching for the discarded bouquet. "Cleaner than that wall you're still leaning on."
She neglected to tell you how good you actually tasted while licking her lips.
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buckyalpine · 7 months
Text
I'm just throwing out an idea while attending to my garden of boundless wips but just imagine the compound getting attacked and the one area that's the most damaged is the lab. Hackers want to steal all the Stark technology and they stop at nothing, waiting for the team to leave before they destroy the building, blowing the structure till it crumbles. The only one still remaining in the building is the lab tech.
The jet nears the compound; Tony and Steve are already suited up again while Sam adjusts his wings, Nat and Clint armed and ready to go.
Everyone but Bucky.
"Tony was anyone still in the building?" His face is filled with horror, staring at the smoke emitting from the areas that were hit, his heart hammering against his chest.
"My lab tech, y/n, she was still working when we left" Tony ran a hand over his face and the color drains from Bucky's cheeks.
"WHERE IS SHE" Bucky does everything in his power not to lose control, snapping back into soldier mode and strapping his weapons, shoving past Steve so he can jump out first as they near the compound.
"Barnes its okay, we'll find her" Tony reassures him but he can't hide the confusion on his face because why on earth was Bucky this concerned over his lab assistant. They had never spoken a word to each other, in fact he didn't even realize Bucky knew you existed.
"She's pregnant!" Bucky had never sounded so scared in his life, pulling himself together to keep from breaking down.
"What-when-how-how do you know" Tony had never felt more confused in his life while the others all whip their heads around, shocked at what he'd just said.
"That's my wife"
The jet doors open and Bucky is the first one out, sprinting through smoke and flames till he gets to the worst part of what's left, debris and rubble scattered over the floor. Bodies hit the floor as he takes out anyone that he sees without a second guess. He frantically searches, holding back his emotions till he spots the broken glasses first. Dust and crumbles cement cover your unconscious form, blood dripping from you forehead and he doesn't pause to try and wake you up himself.
She's in his arms and he's rushing to the med wing while the rest of the team trail behind him, seeing as he's already killed anyone that broke in. Once your taken in, all he can do is wait, pacing up and down the hall till he's given the all clear to see you. He sits by your bed, desperately holding onto your hand, Steve being the first to check on his best friend while the the others quietly enter after.
No one breathes a word till you finally open your eyes, giving you and Bucky privacy till you're ready to see the others. He's tucked into bed with you as they enter, his arm wrapped around your tummy, rubbing soft circles with his metal hand. You weren't showing much yet, seeing as it was still early on.
"Okay, spill, when did you marry my lab tech" Tony playfully teased while Bucky blushed, hugging you closer.
"Last year" He admitted, while Steve smirked, coming over to check on you.
"Doing okay sweetheart?" The blonde asked, plopping down on a chair beside your bed, smiling when you nodded, "How's my godchild"
"You knew?" Sam wacked Steve's shoulder only to be met with a snicker from both soldiers.
"Who do you think was the bestman" The captain smiled proudly while you giggled, giving Tony a sheepish smile.
"I was gonna tell you Mr. Stark"
"When, did you think I wouldn't notice a little super soldier running around the lab?" He cocked an eyebrow with a smile.
"You knew?" Sam repeated, still deeply offended while Steve shook his head, kissing your forehead before getting up so you could get some rest. The rest of the team followed after, deciding to bombard the two of you with questions after you'd slept.
"YOU KNEW?"
"Give it a rest Sam"
"I'm sorry, Mr. Almighty Captain, Never lies, Sir Honest A Lot, YOU KNEW?"
"Sam"
"YOU KNEW?!"
I'm sorry, this wasn't the most organized drabble, just an idea I wanted to toss out into the world.
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