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cheezbites · 8 months

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Hi can you do a Chris McLean x Short!Reader?

Chris McLean x Short Reader

✎: MY FIRST EVER REQUEST I’M SO GEEKED RN. Thank you guys, keep these requests coming!! 💓🥲

♡Summary: Chris McLean dating someone short.

Bf!Chris always attended press conferences and award ceremonies where crowds towered over you, which was nothing new. He insisted on guiding you through the hordes of people with his hand on your shoulder or waist.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

"What, is that Ruby Rosewood?" someone in the crowd exclaimed.

"Wait, where is she? Chris, lead us to her. Oh my god, I need to see her," you held onto his guiding hand resting on your shoulder.

He acted like a GPS tracker, swiftly locating her, and you enjoyed a short and sweet conversation with one of your idols.

Bf!Chris appreciates your shorter figure. Despite his past relationships with taller women, often models who added onto their height with expensive heels, your height, ranging from 5'0 to 5'4, actually makes him appear much taller when photographed or standing together. How could he not love that?

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

The event was busting with activity; flashing cameras, chattering voices, and a sea of well-dressed attendees. Chris, dressed in his tuxedo with a charming smile, navigated through the elegant crowd.

You, stood by his side, unbeknownst to the unique effect your presence had on Chris. He couldn't help but beam with pride as photographers captured the two of you together. You had a way of making him appear even more tall in comparison to you.

As you mingled with the guests, you picked up on a hushed whisper across the room, "Isn't that Chris? who's the lady with him?"

A nearby couple overheard and joined in, "That's his girlfriend, the one who makes him look even more impressive."

Chris, overhearing the conversation, couldn't help but chuckle.

Bf!Chris hired security guards for you with his immense budget, they followed you around everywhere. Even at times when it seemed a bit redundant.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

Your chauffeur was driving you around the city as the security guards were sitting around in their own seats, making small talk with one another. You were texting Chris on your way to run errands:

“You sure I need the guards to go shopping for groceries?”

“Yes. Anything can happen, remember what happened on the news?” he replied shortly after seeing your message, you chuckled at his response. Chris was a bit paranoid at times, but maybe it was for the best.

Bf!Chris had to lean over to kiss you, which was one of his favourite aspects of the kiss.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

Chris leaned over to meet your lips, and that simple act added an extra layer of sweetness to the moment. It was one of his favorite things about your kisses – the way he had to lean in to reach you.

As your lips met, you both felt the electric connection that never decayed. In that tender embrace, you shared a kiss that spoke volumes without words, reaffirming your love in the most beautiful way.

Bf!Chris was your weighted blanket at times; instead of you cuddling up to him it would be the opposite. He wouldn’t put his full weight on you; but enough for you both to be comfy.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

A cozy blanket draped over you as you both lounged on the couch. Chris had a mischievous glint in his eye. He shifted his position slightly, and before you knew it, he was gently draping himself over you, like a living weighted blanket.

You giggled at the unexpected move, making him grin down at you, his arms propped up, supporting his weight just enough to make you both feel snug and comfortable. You settled into the embrace, feeling the warmth and security of his presence.

Bf!Chris is the human trash can of the relationship. If you both went out to eat, he finished your leftovers you couldn’t finish.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

You sat in a cozy corner of your favorite restaurant, savoring a delicious meal with Chris. The plates were stacked with delectable food, but as always, your eyes were bigger than your stomach.

Chris, on the other hand, seemed to have an appetite when it came to your leftovers. With a playful smile, you pushed your plate toward him, knowing he'd happily accept the offer.

He chuckled between mouthfuls, "Someone's got to make sure nothing goes to waste,"

As you continued to eat together, you couldn't help but appreciate how Chris's appetite perfectly complimented your tendency to order more than you could finish. It was just one of the many ways your relationship seemed to fit together seamlessly, like a jigsaw puzzle.

Bf!Chris often gave you piggyback rides at concerts, convinced that you'd struggle to see anything. You didn't mind at all, secretly enjoying the elevated view for your Instagram story. After all, it was a win-win – a better view and a cute moment to share with your followers.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

The concert’s music thumped through the air as the crowd around you jumped and swayed to the beat. Chris, always attentive to your needs, leaned down with a grin.

"You ready?"

You reached for your phone and nodded, "Absolutely!"

Without hesitation, Chris knelt down, and you hopped onto his back. He effortlessly lifted you, and you clung onto him as he stood up, your legs wrapping around his waist.

The stage came into view, the lights and the artist gracefully performed around you.

You couldn't help capturing the moment. You snapped an Instagram story, the music pulsing in the background, while the crowd's energy surged around you. You couldn't resist but to feel grateful for Chris's thoughtfulness and the incredible view he provided, both in real life and on social media.

Bf!Chris took notice of your affinity for high-heels. Either in your online cart or when you’re window shopping, you were undoubtably drawn to them. It wasn't solely because of your height, although that might have played a role in your heel obsession. You simply loved the feeling they gave you – They were so simple yet so feminine. So expensive, too.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

"Close your eyes, love," he cooed playfully.

Curiosity piqued, but you complied, covering your eyes with both hands. You could hear him moving about the room, and a sense of anticipation built within you.

"Okay, you can open them now,"

As you removed your hands, you were met with the sight of a beautifully wrapped box with the ANAPHORA etched onto its elegant surface. Excitement and surprise washed over you as you carefully unwrapped the gift. Inside, you discovered a pair of exquisite high heels, the same pair that’s been sitting in your online cart for a few months now.

"Oh my God... Chris, you didn't have to!" you exclaimed, your eyes sparkling with gratitude.

Chris grinned and replied, "Well, now you don't have to tip-toe as much," he teased, alluding to the times he had to adjust his height difference with you.

Bf!Chris noticed you taking his over sized t-shirts from his cupboard, he was used to your thief antics and so he let it slide. But on your figure, they looked like flowy dresses.

Bf!Chris loved when you asked him to get something out of your reach for you, it made him feel useful in a way.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

You stood in the kitchen, eyeing a high shelf where your favourite cookbook was. The shelf was just out of your reach, and you knew exactly what to do. With a playful grin, you turned to Chris,

"Babe, could you do me a favor?" you asked, your tone sweet and soft.

He looked at you with a quirked eyebrow, a smile playing at his lips. "Of course, what do you need?"

You gestured to the cookbook on the shelf. "Could you grab that for me, please?"

His smile widened, and he sauntered over to the shelf, breezily retrieving the cookbook. As he handed it to you, he couldn't hide his sense of fulfillment. "Here, anything else?"

You chuckled, touched by his eagerness to help. "No, that's perfect, thank you."

A/N: Thank you so much (again) for requesting!!! This was very fun to write <3

Masterlist

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emmyrosee · 4 days

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ONG OMG OMG CLOTHES SHOPPING WITH SAMU AND SHOWING HIM ALL UR OUTFITS WHILE HE SISTS AND COMPLIMENTS U AND AHHHHH 😍

“Okay. That one’s my favorite.”

You roll your eyes and snicker as his eyes glaze up and down your body, a smile on his face while he soaks you all in. “They’ve all been your favorite, baby,” you remind him.

“I can’t help that you look good in everything,” he scoffs, leaning his elbows on his knees. "What, are you saying I shouldn't be grateful for dating a goddess? You're out of your mind."

Your cheeks are blazed from his words and your mind swirls, how he’s so sweet and the best at hyping you up keeping your heart pounding in your chest. Osamu’s always had the way to make you melt into a pile of mush, though doing it in public so boastfully is definitely new.

“I think I’ve got one more,” you assure, stepping back k into the dressing room.

“I miss you,” he calls.

“I miss you more,” you return, and you pick up the final article of clothing- a short, tight dress, one you snuck in when he was looking at men’s shoes so he’d never get a peek before seeing it adorning your body.

It slips on and fits like a glove.

You’re pretty sure you saved the best for last.

You smirk at your reflection as your hands smooth down the dress, giving yourself a little spin in the wide mirrors. You sigh softly, happily, and you hear him chuckle, “don’t leave me in suspense, come on now.”

“I don’t think you’re ready for me,” you challenge.

You hear him scoff, “oh, I’m ready for you.”

You’re quick to fiddle with the lock and open the door, revealing yourself for the nth time today.

This time, however, his jaw drops. His eyes widen and they shamelessly take you all in, and the smirk that starts to spread is captured by his teeth as he sinks his them into the fat of it. His body tightens, and he lets out a small sigh through his nose, a small hand coming up to card his hair back.

“Holy fuck.”

“Osamu!” You giggle. “Dont say that!”

“You look… divine, momma,” he exhales, dropping his hand and resting it on his knee. “I was full of it before- this one’s my favorite.”

“Yeah?” You mewl, using your index finger to beckon him closer, and as if tranced, he stands up and makes his way to you, hands immediately reaching out to rest on your hips. “You like it that much?”

“I love it, angel face,” he confesses, his eyes shining with adoration and complete obsession. “If you get nothing from today- which you absolutely should- get the dress. For me.”

“For you?”

He chuckles, “yeah. Wanna look at you in it forever.”

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ghouljams · 2 months

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Ballet König tiiiiime... I have many thoughts because I saw a ballerina with big tits and I am... no better than a man...

Tw for minor reader descriptions (big boobs...)

Being fitted for costumes is always annoying, the costumers always complain about having to fit your chest, and have to let out the corseted tutu to compensate. You always end up with your tits either smashed against your chest or lifted to an almost pornographic degree. This costume seems to be the latter. König stares down at you, you raise a brow at him and he gives you a one word growl.

"Change."

You have to anyway, so you follow the costumers directions and change back into your usual leotard and tights. König is holding your sweatshirt when you make your way out of the changing room, he holds it out to you and you give him a confused look. You take it but don't bother putting it on, you still have practice, it's not like you're about to dance in your sweats.

He follows you through rehearsals, he's supposed to anyway but he's really, really, close. It isn't until the last dancer has filed out of the room for lunch that you finally get an explanation for his behavior. He grabs your tits, or tries to, two big handfuls that make you press your chest into his grip with a quiet noise of surprise. He squeezes you through your leotard and grumbles something. His hands smooth over your chest, down and back up, before he's digging his hands under the neckline and into the garment.

"There they are," he coos bending close, "You've been hiding such pretty things from me Schatzi."

Hiding is a strong word, wearing the dance equivalent of a binder is more accurate. As such, the material wants to stay close to itself, forcing you into Königs hands as he fondles you. He pinches your nipples hard and you whine, your blood rushing to heat your skin as he rolls his thumbs over them soothingly.

"Quite the ballerina," König drags his lips against the shell of your ear, "having such-" he struggles for the right word, toying with you all the while, when it does finally come to him it's with his cock pressing against your ass, "indecent sounds right-" he kisses your neck, "-indecent-" you know the feeling of his teeth anywhere, "-obscene-" they tease your skin, "-naughty-" his tongue replaces their points, dragging over your pulse as König groans, "tits."

"They make costuming, nng, difficult," you bite your lip against making another sound. It's better if you don't talk, you don't want to alert anyone outside the studio that the two leads are misusing the space.

"They fill my hands, Engel," König hums, giving your breasts a firm squeeze as if driving home his point, "how did I not notice them?"

You don't have to think hard to answer that, but you do have to press your hand over your mouth to avoid whining at the way he toys with you. He's never fucked you without a leotard on, that's how, despite all his protests against it, the man has a firm kink. He pinches your nipples hard and you moan, König shushes you, grinds his hard cock against you. Heat pools between your legs, making your leotard and tights sticky with slick. He's teasing you, and you both know it. He was never going to fuck you, there isn't time for it.

"Such a dirty girl," he tells you, "I should have taken you home, and fucked you properly."

You press back against him, prepared for the consequences of asking him to do it now, fuck you on the floor, fuck you against the Barre with your face pressed to the mirror, like he's so fond of, but the door opens. His hands slide off your breasts to rest on your shoulders in a flash. Another dancer wanders in to grab her water bottle, squirting some into her mouth as she turns to walk back out. She waves, you give a small wave back. König doesn't move until the door closes again.

Then his hand is pressing between your legs, bending you forward to truly grind against you. You know he can feel the way you're starting to drool, you can almost hear him smiling. "Needy thing," as if it isn't his fault, "why don't we find somewhere I can enjoy you properly."

#cod x reader #x reader #x oc #cod x oc #könig x reader #könig cod #könig mw2 #könig call of duty #könig x f!reader #f!reader #afab reader #ballet au #i have another very short ballet piece for today #bevause i saw a ballet last night #ALSO i may have a ballet graves piece...#if anyone is interested in that #i saw a dancer last night that i was like jesus christ its him and i get it

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yuujisxgf · 3 months

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You cryin'?

Satoru Gojo x f!reader

!MINORS DO NOT INTERACT! 18+

Warnings: smut pwp, Dacryphilia, oral m!recieving, very short, not proofread, once again mdi!!!!

Satoru absolutely loves mocking you. Especially whenever you are sucking him off. The sensation causing you to tear up, and his size makes you choke on it.

"Aww is that too much? Gagging already and you’ve barely taken anything in” he cooed mockingly, with a low chuckle rumbling out of his chest.

Your gaze raised up to meet his, his words secretly turning you on even more. Your lips wrapped around his shaft once more, tongue lolling out to swipe over his slit, as pre-cum seeped out of it. This made him coo.

“Eager to please me, now aren’t you pretty girl?” He asked with a grin, his thumb padded away the tears that were rolling down your cheeks, as you felt his tip hit your throat.

Satoru couldn’t help and slowly buck his hips, when you gagged around him. A cruel smile plastered his lips, he gripped your head softly, fisting your hair. He slowly started moving, as he kept your head in place. You let out a sob, urging him on.

“You cryin'?” He scoffed and bucked his hips faster, he bit his bottom lip.

You let out a soft gasp, then hollowed your cheeks, sucking in his cock like the good girl you were for him, your eyes closed as you let him rut his fat cock between your lips. They swelled up and turned pink, but this turned him on only further.

Watching you so cock-drunk by only sucking him off, was immensely arousing, his balls clenched when focused on his tip, sucking deliciously. Tears ran down your face repeatedly but you enjoyed it more than anything. Your hands found his hips, digging your nails into his skin.

Satoru groaned out, finally praising you. “Just like that pretty girl, gonna make me cum?” He breathed out deeply, his voice sounding delicious as you made him twitch.

He was close, you could tell by the way you felt his thrust becoming sloppy and the way his moans became more frequent. His filthy cock twitched, his balls tightened and his hands gripped your head.

Stopping you from moving, as hot spurts of cum hit your throat, his hips stuttered yet he rolled them lazily.

“Shiit, take it, take it my filthy girl” he rasped as he brushed your remaining tears off your flushed cheeks.

You whimpered as you swallowed the remains of his seed, with a pop you pulled away. Licking your lips clean and looked up at Satoru.

“Did I do good?” You ask innocently, soft voice bringing him back from his intense orgasm, his blue eyes met your eyes, a grin spread across his face as he leaned down to you, lips clashing yours in a messy kiss.

“Hell yea, my little cry baby. Did so well” he cooed.

With that you two, emerge the living room, entering the bedroom for a long night instead.

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loviatarsluv · 4 months

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hey there! I saw your post about asking for little blurb requests :) what about one where they’re bathing in the river?

hiiii omg okay so since you didn't specify which character, i'll just pick one hehe this is one of my fav "tropes" i guess if you wanna call it that so i was pumped for this one!!

so sorry for the late post, I took my time w this one bc I love romantic soft fluffy gale stuff ♡︎

Gale x AFAB f!tav / AFAB f!reader

rating: mature (fluff and really romantic sweet smut^.^)

It had been at least a tenday since the last time you or any of your companions had been afforded the luxury of a bath, having been on the road and traveling the road to Baldur's Gate for days and not coming across a single stream or lake somehow.

You’d been craving a thorough bath since the battle with Ketheric Thorm and the rest of the cultists at Moonrise Towers - you swore you’d never be able to get all the blood and grime out of your hair at this rate. It started to affect your functioning and already completely erratic sleep schedule, as all you could think about was the blood under your nails and the layer of grime and dried viscera on your skin.

Not to mention, you’d barely been able to be physically affectionate with Gale without disgusting yourself. That alone was making it nearly impossible to think straight.

He insisted that it was fine and that he didn’t mind, but you just couldn’t bring yourself to want to do anything intimate in this state. This was far beyond just having not bathed for a few days and having a natural musk (which Gale has made very clear that he very much enjoyed) - and you were nearly at your wits end.

So naturally, when Halsin notified the group that he found a river that flowed into a small lake while he was hunting in wild shape, you were the first to claim first turn bathing. The group all groaned in protest - particularly Astarion who’d been just as, if not more perturbed about his begrimed state and stained clothes - everyone else longing to have a moment of reprieve and refresh before whatever awaited you in Baldur’s Gate.

There was a resounding sigh and eyeroll (apart from Halsin) from the group as Gale offered to accompany you, after Halsin suggested bathing in pairs for safety purposes. Your companions had not been exactly quiet about their annoyance toward you and Gale’s blatant displays of affection since your night together under the stars in the Shadow Cursed Lands - you and Gale joked with each other that they were all likely just jealous and pent up, so to speak.

You were the first to slink off toward the river, barely able to contain your excitement towards finally feeling clean again. Gale ran to his tent to grab the lavender soap he found while exploring that he’d been saving for himself (and you) as well as a couple of cloth towels that he washed and asked Astarion to sew up the tatters and tears in.

You essentially stripped yourself almost entirely bare before even getting close to the water’s edge, leaving a trail of garments and belts and boots behind you as you ambled up to the shore.

The air was crisp and the breeze was comfortably cool, the reflection of the moon shone and shimmered across the water surface. It almost felt unreal, like it was a mirage after one too many days without fresh drinking water. The only way you were able to confirm that you weren’t dreaming was by wading into the placid waves and laying back, allowing yourself to float.

You let out a breath that it felt like you’d been holding for days and closed your eyes, your body gently drifting as you lazily moved your arms and legs with no destination in mind. This was the most relaxed you’d been in months (and probably would be for the foreseeable future), and you intended on enjoying every second.

Gale finally approaches the shore, nearly dropping everything in his hands when he catches sight of you peacefully floating on your back, your bare skin pebbling and glistening in the pale moonlight. His gaze trains on your breasts, your nipples peaked from the cool breeze hitting your wet skin. He’d been missing your body and being close to you terribly since the last time the two of you had been intimate, and just the sight of you this way was almost too much for his heart (and loins) to bear.

He wades out into the water to join you, soap in hand. You only notice his presence by the overwhelming scent of lavender filling your senses. Your eyes slowly open, and your jaw nearly drops.

Just as he’d been transfixed by your body, you found yourself sucking in a sharp breath at the sight of his - water up to his waist, hair tied back in a half updo with small strands falling over his face, the blue reflection of the water shining on his chest and skin. He was easily one of the most beautiful people you’d ever seen, and you thanked whatever gods you could every morning that you woke up beside him.

“You are so beautiful,” He smiles, bringing his arms to wrap around your waist and pull you close to his chest. “Even I’m finding it hard to conjure the proper words to describe your beauty.”

You giggle, pressing your face against his chest and listening to his slightly hastened heartbeat.

“To render the great Gale of Waterdeep speechless is a feat not many have accomplished, it's an honor.”

He chuckles lightly, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. He begins to rub gentle circles on your back with the bar of soap, and you feel all the stress you’d been holding on to slowly release, if only just for tonight.

“Yet you manage to make it a regular occurance,” he hums, bringing his free hand up to caress your jaw.

A peaceful and comfortable silence falls over the two of you as you listen to the songs of the night - the sound of the water as it kisses the edge of the shore, the breeze through the trees and surrounding grass, the chirping and singing of whatever nocturnal creatures lurked nearby as they begun their day. You listen to his soft breathing and his heart as it thrums steadily in his chest, and the way he hums and sighs when you pepper delicate kisses around his shoulders, chest, and neck.

He migrates the soap to your arms, cradling your hand in his when he holds them up to thoroughly coat you and massage the dirt and grime from your skin. He takes his time, not a single inch of you left uncared for. He brings his hands to cup your breasts, smoothing bubbles over them and lightly pinching their peaks, eliciting a moan from you and instantly sending heat straight to your core.

To your slight dismay, he moves on, continuing his prior ministrations by rubbing the soap across your belly, then pressing a reassuring kiss to your lips when he notices your smile falter at his attention being directed there. His eyes meet yours, full of nothing but pure adoration - he thinks the world, the moon, and all of the stars of you, and he’ll be damned if he doesn’t show you that at every opportunity. He believes he’s found heaven within you, your body being a perfect vessel worthy of pious devotion.

“Doing okay, my love?” He asks, breaking away from the kiss.

You nod, breath hitching as you feel your heart pounding against your ribs. “Okay is an understatement.”

He smiles widely, pleased to know that you were enjoying yourself. He knew that the last few days had been particularly hard on you and all he wanted was to see you finally relax - you deserve nothing less.

“I’ve missed you deeply.” He sighs, leaning his head onto your shoulder and kissing it, the rough texture of his beard tickles you when he does.

“We’ve slept together every night for weeks now, darling,” You giggle. “But I know, I’ve missed you, too. It's nice not to be repulsed by my own skin for a change.”

You reach for his hand that held the soap, only for him to move it away from your grasp. “Ah ah, I’m not quite finished.”

A deep red blush creeps to your cheeks as you quickly catch on to what he’s referring to, the heat that had slowly been coiling in your gut starting to burn ever hotter. You clench your thighs together on pure reflex, your body chasing any sort of friction to soothe the ache that had begun between your legs.

He notices and tenderly pushes his hand between your legs to part your thighs, pressing a longer and more meaningful kiss to your lips while lazily stroking the inside of your thigh with two fingers.

“May I?” He asks, stopping his fingers just at the top of your thigh.

You nod fervently, your eyes full of desperation.

He doesn’t leave you wanting for long, his deft fingers moving to gently massage your folds for just a brief moment before replacing them with the bar of soap. The feeling of the soap versus his fingers is like comparing a pebble to gold.

Gale was a fast learner, and in the few weeks since the two of you had become intimate with each other, he had become a consummate expert when it came to your body. He learned every little maneuver that would have you a moaning and whimpering wreck. You’d never been with a lover that managed to make foreplay nearly as pleasurable, sometimes even more, than actual sex. You’d also never been with a lover quite as generous as Gale - sometimes it even seemed he enjoyed pleasuring you more than anything else, as he’d spend hours with his head between your thighs without a single complaint.

So to only get a brief taste of what you knew was exactly what you needed, was torture.

You whine when he moves his fingers away, jutting out your bottom lip into a pout.

“I know, love. Just be patient a little longer for me,” He coos, caressing your cheek in an attempt to soothe you while he finishes cleaning you.

You contain yourself for the time being - resorting to holding your breath and clutching on to his shoulder for dear life, trying your best to be patient, because you knew that he was well worth the wait.

He finally finishes, brushing against your aching and throbbing sex with the soap one last time for good measure, then hands it to you.

“Thank you,” you breathe, your shoulders sinking as you release the air you’d been holding for a little too long as you’d started to feel lightheaded. “For taking care of me.”

“Thank you for allowing me to.” He says simply. Ever the gentleman.

He pulls you in for a passionate kiss, his hands resting on your lower back at the crest of your ass cheeks, your hands tangling into his chestnut and silver streaked locks. You let one hand rest on the nape of his neck, holding him to you to extend the kiss as long as you can, wishing you could just stay this way for the rest of your life.

When the kiss finally breaks, you motion for him to turn around so that you can lather his back. He slowly turns, seemingly reluctant to take his eyes off of you.

You’ve seen Gale naked plenty of times now, but you hadn’t realized how rarely you’d seen his bare back. And seeing it this way - wet and glistening under the silvery light of the moon, flexing as he adjusts so you can reach his shoulders properly - it was mouthwatering. There wasn’t a single part of his body that you hadn’t found yourself in awe of.

Once you lather his back fully, he turns to face you once more, his once content gaze now full of unbridled desire. Your breath catches, but still you try to continue and massage the soap onto his chest, then his stomach, letting your fingertips graze the dark trail of hair as your hand moves down.

His hand travels down to your sex once again, this time, fully intentional with his movements as he presses his fingertips to the sensitive bud. Your body jolts involuntarily in response, a gasp escaping your lips. He hums, slowly massaging along your folds, his finger edging just at your entrance but not dipping in. You try to maintain, rubbing circles of soap into the same spot for too long before you notice and move on to a different area. He grins widely, now seeing this as a game - a game he intended to win.

He leans his face forward to press a wet kiss to your jaw, leaving enough space between your bodies so you can continue to lather him. Your arm stills for a moment, your mind starting to go blank with every swipe against your throbbing cunt and his tongue brushing against your neck.

You’re trying your damnedest to keep strong, determined to ensure that he receives the same amount of care that he’d shown you, but he seems equally as determined to distract you from your efforts.

A loud moan tumbles from your lips as his finger gently pushes into you, your hips bucking against him, causing his palm to rub against your clit. He grunts, his hardened cock pressing into your hip as he lurches forward for a better vantage point to plunge his finger into you deeper and deeper.

Your hand flies to grasp his length, gripping slightly tighter than you normally would as he adds a second finger, your hand clenching tightly onto him in response. He sucks a breath through his teeth, a low rumbling in his chest that almost resembles a growl following it. You pump his cock in tandem with him pistoning his fingers in and out of you, the sound of the water splashing with your movements mixing with each of your moans and heavy panting.

You feel yourself creeping up on the edge, your orgasm imminent if he keeps up this pace. He can tell that you’re close by the way your walls clench around his fingers. You quicken the rhythm you were stroking his cock at, his hips jutting forward into your hand.

“Wait, wait,” he breathes, placing his hand over yours to stop you. “If you keep that up, I won't last much longer.”

You bite your lip, peering up at him through your lashes. “I want to make you come.”

His eyes widen slightly, his chest heaving. “Not like this. I need to have you, my love.”

You feel your walls clench around his fingers again just at his words, now desperately wishing it was his cock instead.

“Please,” you whimper, pulling his body closer so that your chest presses flush against his, his hand still between you, fingers still gently curling and thrusting into you.

“I want you to come first, love. Can you do that for me?” He purrs, his voice barely above a whisper.

His words alone push you right back up to the edge of the peak, your legs start to tremble and your fingers dig into his shoulders for support while you feel your body becoming mush from his touch. You roll your hips into his hand erratically, your hips stuttering as you get closer and closer, your vision turning white.

“That’s it, that’s my girl.”

Your head falls back and you cry his name over and over as you finally reach the peak, tumbling over the edge into free fall. His hand cradles the back of your head, his thumb gently stroking the side of your neck to coax you through your orgasm. You feel your entire body shake as you come down, and you thank the gods that you were waist deep in water otherwise you might’ve collapsed into a puddle on the floor. Not that Gale would let you fall, likely he’d scoop you up in his arms and carry you to bed before you could.

Your head slumps forward once again, resting against his shoulder as you try to catch your breath. You bring your hand up to trace the circular marking of the orb in the center of his chest, fingertips tracing the dark lines that trail out of it, stretching all the way to his eye. His eyes flutter closed at your gentle caresses, and he presses his lips to your forehead, lingering there for a moment before pulling back.

“If I could only live within a single moment for eternity, I think I’d choose this moment with you under the moon’s gaze.”

His brown eyes meet yours, almost seeming to sparkle as he speaks, every single word wrapping around you and enveloping you in a warmth that you thought only the sun could provide.

Gale was the sun. He was the rain after a drought. He was the forgiving breeze on a scorching hot day.

“I love you.” Is all you can manage to say, unable to form the proper words to express to him how truly and utterly besotted you were.

Your lips collide once again, and you hope that the kiss tells him everything you couldn’t with words. This was the kind of kiss that people go to war for, the kind of kiss you’d die to experience just once.

His hands greedily roam your body, claiming each inch of it as his with just a touch of his fingertips. His hands move to cup your ass cheeks, lifting you and wrapping your legs around his waist. You feel his hand reach under you to take hold of his cock, preparing it for you. You snake your arms around his neck, your fingers tangling into the hair at the nape of his neck, tugging slightly so he tilts his head back. Your lips and teeth waste no time finding his sweet spot, surely leaving marks that will be there in the morning. You taste a mixture of the soap, the lake water, and the natural saltiness of his skin. He whimpers slightly when you bite just a little harder, with more intent.

Unable to hold back a second longer, he lines the swollen head of his cock up at your entrance, waves of electricity shooting through you when you feel him slowly start to slip in.

You almost swear it’d hurt less if he just slammed home - the way you were throbbing and aching for him was nearly unbearable.

But Gale has never been hasty. He takes his time, he calculates his every move, he’s deliberate.

You’ve had sex with Gale several times now at this point, but every time your body still has to adjust to him, and he’s aware of that. He moves slowly not only for your comfort, but also so that he’s able to savor every inch of you as he buries himself into your warmth.

“I don’t think I’ll ever tire of this,” he breathes, his grip on your ass tightening as he finally bottoms out, the head hitting just the right spot.

“Gods, I hope not,” is all you’re able to choke out before he begins a torturously slow rhythm with his thrusts, every inch of him stroking your still sensitive walls from your prior orgasm.

Your legs tighten around his waist as you cling onto him for dear life, and the rest of the world fades away. There’s no tadpoles, no Absolute, no cultists — there’s only the two of you wrapped in each other's embrace, and the moment feels infinite.

His hand tangles into your still dripping wet hair, droplets flinging from it onto your back as he fists it, sending goosebumps racing across your flesh. He breathes heavily, murmuring random assortments of curses and your name under his breath as his pace picks up ever so slightly, his conviction to take it slowly, faltering.

You feel yourself approaching the brink again as he speeds up.

“Gale, please, I’m—“

“I know, my love, me too.” He moans, now slamming into you with a reckless abandon, all control he’d had previously now washed away with the tide and your pleading.

He finishes with one last stuttering plunge into you, the warm sensation of his spend flooding you and his cock throbbing sending you over the edge along with him. He stays in you while you both come down, chests heaving and hearts racing.

“I love you, too. With every beat of my heart.” He says after a long and comfortable silence, pushing a loose strand of hair out of your eyes.

You stay there for a few minutes longer, embracing, kissing, joking about pruney fingers and how much shit your companions were going to give you when you returned.

When you both emerge from the water, Gale grabs one of the towels and wraps it around your body first, rubbing your arms to warm you as a shiver passes through you. He presses a kiss to the side of your head, then wraps the other towel around his waist. You gawk at him for a moment, and you think you could easily go for a round two if you weren’t entirely drained from the day prior to your bath… activities.

As you walk back to camp hand in hand with him, a true and genuine smile plastered on your face that you weren’t sure you’d ever smiled before, you feel a sort of selfish gratefulness. You feel as though the cosmos aligned just perfectly to drop him into your life, even amidst absolute mayhem and turmoil. Even if nothing came of the months spent adventuring and battling cultists and searching for cures, you still had this - you had him. And he, you.

And you think to yourself - even if you died tonight, you’d die happily knowing you got to spend a moment under the warmth of his sun.

————

god I love gale so much

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uravitsy · 3 months

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‘YOUNG AND BEAUTIFUL’ SATORU GOJO

ACT TWO.

summary. gojo relives his memories with you, getting closer to acceptance. ☆

warnings. angst, sad!gojo, fem!reader! gojo x you, grief, established relationship, some smut if you squint, bittersweet ending

a/n. this is a short story i wrote over the summer, i wanted to dabble into the idea of gojo not being able to fully process his grief without the help of his students. it is a bit sad though.

ACT ONE : ̗̀➛ ACT THREE : ̗̀➛ FINALE

𓆩ᥫ᭡𓆪

Gojo danced his fingertips across your bare skin. the pads of his thumbs pressing into your flush thighs before dipping in between your legs. He watched as you continued to sleep, your chest rising and falling peacefully. your skin was still covered with love bites and marks from the passionate night before. Hair spread widely against the silk pillowcase as goosebumps appeared on your skin from being touched by Gojo's cold hands.

With a smile, Gojo lowered himself down, spreading your legs to put one of your thighs over his shoulder so he had full access to your lady parts. Without hesitation he teasingly glides his warm tongue along your folds, making you squirm and try to close your legs in reflex but Gojo's grip forcibly kept them open.

He moaned into your pussy, sucking on the sensitive bundle of nerves to the point where you were lifting your hips up from the bed slightly, trying to move away from the overwhelming pleasure but gojo kept you in place, forcing you to take all that he was giving you on this lazy sunday morning.

"Satoru," you moaned his name tiredly, your head falling back on the pillows as you relaxed.

"Yes, sweetheart?" Gojo lifts his head up to look at you, biting your inner thigh.

"i'm still so sore and sensitive from yesterday.." you let out a blissful sigh as Gojo teased your clit with a flick of his tongue, a shiver going down your spine, "mm."

"I'll take care of you," His words were sweet like honey and his touch was like silk. it made you melt into the mattress, ultimately giving your body to him with such trust you wouldn't give to anyone else, "That's my good girl."

With a loud moan, you let Gojo take you to the world of bliss. It was nice to have him to yourself for a change since he'd been so busy at his job. You found yourself getting lost into piles of work as well, pursing your dreams with such vigor that it made you not have time in your calendar for your boyfriend. But you weren't going to let that stop you, to let it consume you to the point where your relationship with Gojo would grow strained.

So you made the time, the effort, to see him more and now here you two were, rolling around in the sheets for the past five days to make up for lost time.

You couldn't ask for anything else on such a glorious sunday morning. It was perfect. He was perfect.

"Parmesan cheese?" You asked Gojo as your back was facing him, continuing to plate his pasta that was fresh off the stove, "Satoru?"

"Hm? Oh! Yes, thank you." Gojo tossed his mail across the table before leaning back in his chair. You gladly served him his food with a nice tall glass of water but not without raising an eyebrow in question.

"What was it?" Humming, you take a sip of your own water as you pick up the envelope before reading the top, "Jujustu high...? isn't that the school you went to? why are they sending mail after all these years?"

"For a job offer," Gojo did well to hide most of his life with you and he wasn't going to let the wall crumble now. it was too dangerous for you to know anything about what he and others were capable of, "I already said no but they are persistent. besides, what do i look like teaching a bunch of kids?"

You couldn't help but let out a sad chuckle. Gojo was indifferent when it came to children and made it made it very clear throughout the five years you two been dating. He said they were annoying brats that he didn't have time for and over time you hoped his perspective changed, especially now that you were— never mind that, what were you going to do? What were you going to tell him?

"It might be a good opportunity," You try to reason with him, "You said that you were sick of this job you had now anyway. maybe a change will do you good, you should consider it."

"You make a good point."

You push your own feelings aside as you give him a bright smile, "Now don't wait up for me. I have this job interview and then a few errands to run. I'll see you later tonight, I'm thinking chinese?" Gojo followed you down the hall with a knowing smirk. He watched as you put your shoes on and grab your keys that were hanging on the hook by the door, "Unless you want something else then text me, I can always make—"

You were interrupted with a kiss. Gojo and your lips moving together in sync until you both were breathless. after a few moments, Gojo pulled away with a teasingly smile, a bit of pasta sauce still on the corner of his mouth from eating like a starved child.

"You're too good for me," Your boyfriend says honestly, his bright colored eyes looking upon you like you were his whole world, "I love you (y/n)."

"And I ove you too," And you meant that with every fiber of your being. You move Gojo's white hair away from his eyes, your hand resting on his cheek for a second too long as if to savor this moment between you. If you could freeze time it would be right for this moment, "i'll see you later, yeah?"

"Of course sweets," Gojo kisses the top of your head, confused by the pit of dread that he felt in his stomach. Why did he feel so bad all of a sudden? Why didn't he want to let you go? If only he knew that that was his inner voice warning him, telling him to stop the unthinkable. If only he would've known better then— maybe you'd still be by his side, "Get going so you can come back to me, I'll be so boooooored without you!"

"You could, I don't know, go to work?" You tease him, knowing that it was his day off. lucky him, "Not everyone has such a privilege like you, enjoy it! call geto or something."

"He's the last person I want to see!" Gojo lets out an annoyed huff, "Why can't you call off?"

"Goodbye Satoru," And with that you closed the door behind you. Your light and sweet aura going with you, leaving the place feeling cold and empty. Why didn't he stop you from leaving? Why did he just watch you leave? He blamed himself. He blamed himself for everything.

"And so," Mrs.Shoko smiled at you as she tapped on resume, "You've been accepted for the position," her words left you nearly gawking, "we can get your office set up as soon as possible. How does Monday sound?"

"M-Monday?" you were still reeling from the shock, "That's perfect! Thank you so much for this opportunity!" Shaking her hand vigorously, you couldn't help but bow in thanks.

"I take it you'll be ready to relocate to Tokyo? I know it's quite far but—"

"I'm willing to do whatever it takes!" This was your dream job after all; Gojo would understand. You both talked about the endless possibilities, and this was one of them. You couldn't turn it down, not when you were so close to achieving what you had worked all your life for.

"So? What did you say?" Mrs. Yamada could hardly take the suspense as she set down a plate of finger sweets in front of you. "You've been telling me about this job for months."

"Of course, I said yes!" You smiled as you thanked her for the snacks, not wasting a second before stuffing your face. "Now I have to talk to Gojo."

"Speaking of him, have you told him yet?" Mrs. Yamada turns her sign to closed before taking a seat across from you, nodding in approval as you pour the both of you tea politely. The porcelain teapot weighed a bit heavy in your hands. "It won't be long before you can't hide it anymore, you know."

"I know," you instinctively place your hand on your stomach with a soft smile, "I'll tell him everything today! I'll get ingredients to make his favorite meal and pick up some of those sweets he likes at the candy shop by our house. It's a day for celebration after all… I just hope he sees it that way as well."

"You should have more faith in him," Mrs. Yamada takes a sip of her tea, "if he loves you, it won't be an issue."

"You're right," you said before checking the time on your phone. It was past 6, and you were sure Gojo was waiting up for you to hear the good news. And you wanted nothing more than to skip home. "Ah, Mrs. Yamada, as always I enjoyed talking to you but—"

"Go on now, you don't have to keep this old lady company anymore," she teases.

"Whatever you say, but I'll be back tomorrow."

"Of course, I can't seem to shake you off me."

"And you never will!" You laugh at the banter between you both before leaving the flower shop with a single flower in hand. You made your way to the nearest grocery store to pick up the ingredients for tonight's dinner, leaving with a few bags that took up almost all of your right arm.

While you were in the grocery store, the weather changed drastically. The once clear blue skies turned to a dark grey, the sudden flashes of lightning brightening the dark street as it began to pour down rain. You groaned, annoyed with the fact that you didn't have an umbrella on you. You were tempted to go back into the store to buy one, but your home was just right around the corner.

Your phone started ringing suddenly, making you rummage around in your purse to find it, the familiar name of: Gojo 🤍 popping up on your screen. "Hey, babe!"

"(Y/N)! It's raining super hard; I can come pick you up."

"I'm almost home. But guess what? I got the job!"

It was just a short two-minute walk from here, and the candy shop lights were still on, lighting up the whole street with its neon sign. You figured that you'd stop to get Gojo's sweets and rub the rest of the way home.

"Whaaaaaat?! I'm so proud of you! We have to celebrate."

"I'm one step ahead of you, Satoru! I also have some other news to share…"

A sudden flash had you squinting your eyes. The power box behind you sparking with electricity in the wake of being struck by lightning. You rushed to cross the street after looking both ways despite the rain fogging up your vision. Unbeknownst to the car that was coming toward you at full speed, the driver's vision obscured by the sudden flash of lightning that was too close for comfort.

All you saw in your final moments were bright headlights coming toward you. Then the world went black.

"(Y/N)? What was that? Are you okay?"

You couldn't move or see, but you could hear, and you could feel. You heard a person screaming for someone to call 911, you heard hurried footsteps around you as you laid against the cold gravel world, the energy to stay alive slowly leaving your body as you felt something tugging, pulling you toward an abyss of warmth and light.

"(Y/N)!"

Your groceries were scattered, and your favorite flower, that single flower, was still in your hands.

An officer leads Gojo down some stairs into a basement that was cold and damp. The air is thick with so much tension he thought he would suffocate. "I noticed it does more harm than good for the family member or… er, lover."

"I want to see her to make sure." To make sure of what? To make sure you were really dead? Yes, because quite frankly, he was in denial. It couldn't be you. Out of 7 billion people in the world, it wouldn't be you—it couldn't be you. He knew you'd pop back up and say this was all a joke.

Some sick, cruel joke.

The male officer leads Gojo through a freezing room with bodies on either side of him covered with a white sheet. The only parts of their bodies that were sticking out were their feet, with a large tag hooked around their big toe as if they were luggage.

Gojo's throat goes dry as the officer stops in front of a body, going around the metal table to slowly pull the white sheet back to reveal your lifeless body. "Can you identify her?"

"Yes," Gojo could only nod slowly, the words he wanted to say escaping from his lips like a forgotten memory. Out of reflex, Gojo smiles sadly as he looks down at you. He brings his hand up to stroke your hair, then your cold cheek, holding your once warm hand. "That's my (Y/N)."

"We're still investigating, but it's clear this was a hit and run," the officer continues his words with caution. "And I don't know if you knew, but by the autopsy report, she was five weeks pregnant."

Gojo feels like the wind got knocked out of him. "W-what?" he laughs then, this wasn't real. He was dreaming. When he woke up, you'd be right there next to him like you always would be. But no matter how many times he pinched himself, he couldn't wake up.

"I'll give you a few moments…" The officer leaves the room, his footsteps echoing throughout the large room.

Those few moments turned to hours. The hours turned to days. He couldn't leave your side, not when you were like this. Were you cold? You needed clothes. They had you in such an indecent way with other strangers. He was sure you'd be afraid and confused once you woke up; that's why he wanted to stay by your side.

When you wake up, he'd be right here assuring you that everything was alright.

When you wake up, he'd give you the longest kiss.

"Gojo-sensei?"

When you wake up, he'd hug you and never let go.

"Gojo-sensei?"

You weren't waking up, were you?

Megumi tugged on Gojo's pants leg, his small hand easily taking ahold of Gojo's as he took the flowers from Gojo, delicately placing the bouquet of your favorite flowers on top of your gravestone. Your parents started to walk away, your mother sniffling quietly as your father came to pat Gojo on the shoulder reassuringly. His silence spoke a thousand words as they left the graveyard.

Tsumiki, Megumi's sister, bends down to offer your spirit a plate of sweets. Humming a sad tone, she stands up to her full height, holding Gojo's hand in comfort as she cries softly. She sheds the tears that Gojo wouldn't, his face still holding no emotion as he mumbles a simple goodbye.

"Let's go," Gojo tells the children gently, sparing your headstone one last look before turning away. "How does ice cream sound? I'm craving something sweet."

The children give each other a concerned look, clueless as to why Gojo wasn't on his knees screaming his heart out at the unfairness of it all. But little did they know that he would, but only silently. Only when no one could hear or see him.

He did break. He did fall to his knees. He did cry.

He mourned for you, yearned for you, and begged whatever god that would listen to bring you back to him. But his cries would only fall on empty ears, leaving him to slowly wallow away. His heart forever shattered to where no one would be able to mend the pieces for him even if they tried—and he wouldn't even let them try since this heartbreak, this heartache, was a reminder of you.

He would rather have this pain that only the unlucky ones bear if it will forever serve as a memory of you.

#༊*·˚ uravisty #gojo x female reader #jujutsu gojo #jujutsu kaisen #anime #gojo x f!reader #gojo x reader #gojo x you #yuji itadori #megumi fushiguro #nobara kugisaki #lovers #angst #bittersweet #jjk smut #smut #short story #jjk angst

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visionsofmagic · 7 months

Text

day 4: uchiha obito [mutual masturbation]

࿓ synopsis • you can’t deny the desire you have for obito and you want to show it.

―❦ nsfw, akatsuki member!obito, watching, voyeurism, pet names, humiliaton, day dreaming (kinda), masturbation, fingering, neck holding, cum eating, swearing, ordering, power play (a little), shinobi!reader, f!reader. • 1.9k • so fun to write this maniac yet broken man, love him soo much, much favorite character from naruto beside kakashi. enjoy! [kinktober m.]

he is a wanted former shinobi, a danger to all nations, and you’re just someone he knows from the past he can’t get his mind off.

it’s always like this; he leaves the others, the world behind the moment the sun disappears, and the shining stars lighten the sky up in the night of the hidden leaf. he comes here – comes to you. he knows you wait for him because the same circle of events happened for at least 2 years now. he stays behind the tree, behind your door’s windows yet gazes on inside, traveling on your body, watching every movement, and having a peaceful – even paradise, away from the cruel world behind him.

it’s simple – maybe it isn’t but he doesn’t care; he just likes to sit on a tree, and see the sight before him – you while cooking, reading, laughing at something you watch or read, playing with your hair, sometimes pouting – cute, he thinks, and he finds them enjoyable because it is you – the only person he sees entirely, he seeks and he misses.

however, this night isn’t simple, it’s complex – he realizes even before coming here, finding you sitting on the edge of your bed, the window is wide open, the wind of the hidden leaf flows into your room, a few things fly from here to there including your hair. you seem as if you don’t notice any of it – you don’t, he can say, after with the arrival of his presence, you only focus on him.

you don’t look, eyes still on the wall in front of you, hands between your thighs, the marks of heat you have are visible on your body that is lighted below the gleam of the moon.

obito isn’t blind, no, he has an eye to see clearly, even under the dark light of the night, even from that far. the vision helps him to witness the scene before him with magnificent quality and detail.

he isn’t dumb either – can be the most intelligent man in the whole world. you know it, you always tell him how smart he is, catching little details, especially when it comes to you. he remembers the moments you were surprised when he understood gestures even though you can’t realize what you’re doing, so when he comes here, he doesn’t waste a second time to gather enough knowledge about what is going on.

he leaves a deep chuckle under his mask, a hand stays on one of the branches of the tree he is sitting on, “what a silly girl,” he says, head tilting to the side when you close your eyes, opening them again, and taking a deep breath.

with the knowledge of what you will do next, he gets excited – only you can make him feel this kind of emotion with the rest of the others including lust. he doesn’t have to be smart to get the hints; his girl – he likes to call you that, sitting on the bed, a thin white night dress you chose to wear that shows your entire body underneath it – hardened nipples because of both the cold night and him are visible, exposed thighs clenching together, and a bottle of oil standing on the bed, beside you.

it isn’t surprising that you are naughty and horny, wanting to create a show only obito can witness to. you tried this before, maybe more innocent, but you did. however, obito can’t deny that this one is far more different than the previous ones. his rapid breaths prove him right and when you take another deep breath, he sees determination in your sparkling eyes, and it catches him off the ground when you suddenly change your position.

now you sit right in front of the open window – him. he can see you directly – not your side profile. if you look up, he knows your eyes will be in contact with each other.

you don’t anyway. your eyes focus on your thigh, opening them wider, slowly, you pick up the dress until your soaked pussy can be seen – he holds his voice low when he leaves a growl, hand grips the brunch tighter, head tilts forward to see it closer – “oh maker,” he says, “what a beautiful pussy!”

he knows you hear him because your cheeks begin to burn with redness, hands squeeze the fabric of your dress, eyes half-closed.

he waits for you to move on – to give him more – he’s needy; the desire to come into your room and have you under him right away is pleasing to the ear, however, he wants to wait, you prepared for him after all. he wants to see how far his good girl can go.

two fingers get inside your wet mouth, the tongue licks them from tip to toe – his cock twitch with lust; that wet fingers travel down to your pussy, standing on your folds and playing with them, slowly enough to drive him crazy.

he expects you to put your fingers inside that fleshy pussy of yours yet you have a different plan; your left-hand finds the thin strap of the dress as the other stays still, playing with the folds, earning low lewd sounds mixing with your rapid breaths.

taking off the straps from your shoulders, it falls into your abdomen in a smooth motion, hardened nipples and the cute flesh of your breasts are revealed, making obito’s hand find his clothed cock under the cloak of akatsuki. another growl goes out of his parted and dry lips, he licks them to feel wet as if his lips taste your pussy, kneeling down and eating it out.

somehow his mind goes all dizzy, taking functions of moving from his brain, filling it with you who starts to play with hardened nipples, squeezing them from time to time – low moans leave your opened mouth that obito wants to put his cock into – for another day, he thinks.

he needs to live this moment and enjoy it at the highest level.

after quite a foreplay with your breasts – squeezing, slapping, licking them, you have obito in a state of a needy man whose mind is full of lust, brown eye activates the sharingan because he never wants to forget, the cloak is long forgotten under his feet, cock is standing inside his palm, precum licking from it.

the fingers finally enter your pussy in one go, the head is thrown back, a scream can be heard, minds lose themselves, and sin remains behind.

it’s feels so wrong and so right at the same time; neither of you cares yet the feeling of it drives both of you mad. hunger for one to another rising up with a dangerous rate in sync with your fingers going and out of your now wetter pussy, lewd sounds filling the room travel inside to outside until it reaches the man who jerking himself off while reaching euphoria closer owing to the sight he watches; wide open legs, pussy clenching around the fingers that give pleasure – but he knows well that he is one of your ultimate pleasure givers by only staring at your nearly naked body, eyes blurry, mouth half-open, breasts bouncing in rhythm.

“fuck -!” he swears under his breath, close to the edge like you, hand getting faster. “pretty –“ he says louder, wanting it to reach your ears, and it does. “my pretty girl, go on, give me –“

nodding to him, you lower your head down so that you look at each other.

eye to eye, breath to breath, heart to heart – you see the red eye he has, taking your breath away, and an idea pops inside your mind when you can’t see the lower part of his body. you guess what he’s doing under there but you need to see it, so, you chuckle, teasing him, “oh, my greedy pretty boy, can’t handle watching me like this?” it is a question, indeed, but it doesn’t feel like it. “come closer,” you say, ass moves until you reach the middle of the bed, getting away from him to provoke him. it’s unfair that he can see your pussy yet you can’t see his cock. “please –“ you say, close to the edge, “ooohh, obito –!”

without any control of the body, he moves on his own with the help of eagerness, jumping to the window fast enough to make you rethink your plan once again. the idea vanishes into thin air when your eyes connect with him; standing with his glory, he sits on the edge of the window, the mask is still on but the eye – oh that hazardous eye that can end lives gives life to you now, hands stay on the thighs to show off his thick and long cock – and yes, you open your eyes wider when you see it, precum is all over it. you have to fight with the urge of kneeling down on the ground and taking it into your mouth, sucking it, licking it so that he can fuck you with all that wetness afterward –

“pretty,” he says after chuckling deeply, taking your mind all to himself – to his presence. “move your fingers,” he orders, sounds deep and sending chills down your spine. you wait no more, readjusting the fingers, going back to the rhythm and rate you had – the difference this time is that you witness how his hand rubbing his cock, up and down, giving a weakness to you that you merely have the power to continue.

want to make him cum, make a mess, wins – you get up on your knees, rising on the bed, three fingers giving you pleasure as you bounce below them, breasts bouncing, acting like it’s his cock you’re bouncing on – riding, you moan his name, “aggh -! o – oohh –obito! please,” you don’t know what you’re begging for, neither he is – maybe a bit yet you go on screaming his name, pleases wandering around the room, eyes look at his eye and his cock, a hand holding your breasts from time to time and a sin blooms in the night.

then, he says, “fucking cum.” and you do, your own cum dripping into your fingers – to the sheets, and his white semen flows into his long fingers, ending on the floor.

getting weak – exhausted, you sit down, hands on the bed, looking up, taking a sip of achievement because you drove him mad – too needy, too greedy – and ended up masturbating with you.

a smile appears on your face, he comes closer, and he tilts his head, pointing to your mouth, “open your mouth,” he sounds bossy, alerting you that if you don’t do what he tells you, you will end up in a situation that you face with real menace side of obito, so, you open your dry mouth due to all that moans, and he puts his fingers that full of semen into it. his free hand caresses your hand as you suck his fingers off, bitter taste of the semen that belongs to obito burns the throat – you want more. “my good girl, did that all for me? and even cleaning the mess she caused,” he chuckles, fingers roaming on the lips, hand now holding the neck, kneeling down closer, the eye sparkles – turning the room into the new setting of sin which will bloom sooner than you thought, “will take care of that wet pussy after I fuck this beautiful mouth of yours. will fill all holes with my cum to reward you for the show, my special whore.”

❦ tagging: @lilvampirina ! special thanks. 🎆

[tagging is open!]

#💦 kinktober 2023 first week #kinktober 2023 #day 4 #uchiha obito #naruto #uchiha obito x reader #uchiha obito x you #uchiha obito x y/n #uchiha obito x f!reader #naruto x reader #naruto smut #obito smut #💌 by me #purple #THE FIRST TIME BUT IT FELT SO GOOD TO WRITE FOR HIM THAT IT TOOK NEARLY 2 K EVEN THOUGH I TRIED TO HOLD IT SHORT #well I guess I can say that I have a thing for masked and menace fictional men #thanks for reading!!#obito x you #obito uchiha x reader

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starlightkun · 3 months

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➠ word count: 4.5k ➠ warnings: cursing, suggestive (no smut but they’re in love and horny lol) ➠ genre: fluff, established relationship, former hockey captain sungchan, chronically ill reader (chronic migraines), shortfic in the buzzer beater series (comes after saltwater smiles), some minor angst again but it’s about like growing up and being a human and finding your place and purpose as an adult, not between our couple or anything ➠ extra info: the reader in this has chronic migraines, which i have. when the reader’s migraines, experiences as a chronically ill person, and thoughts about being chronically ill are described, that is me writing directly from my own life. i am not generalizing the lives of all people with chronic migraines/chronic illnesses, but i am sending all my love to any readers out there living with a chronic illness, and here’s a reminder to go take your meds! ➠ series masterlist

“It feels like I can’t ever move on from this. From being Sungchan the hockey captain. I know you were just joking when you said it but—I don’t want to actually be that guy that peaked in college.”

“Yo, tell them about the championships against the Sharks, Sungchan!” Your colleague, Seunghan, insisted, pushing on your fiancé’s shoulder with his hand that held a drink.

Sungchan looked down at his feet for a moment, and you caught a quick flash of hesitation on his features before he looked back up at the group of enthralled people and gave a lighthearted chuckle and charismatic smile. “I’ve already told that story tonight, I’m sure everyone here doesn’t want to hear it again. Besides, don’t you all want to hear about Y/N’s paper?”

You two were at a rather ritzy gathering being thrown by your department celebrating that one of your articles had been chosen for publication in a huge literary theory journal.

“Anton wasn’t here when you told it earlier!” Seunghan shook a grad student instructor in your department. “And we’ve all read her paper like a hundred times before it got published.”

You reached up to squeeze Sungchan’s arm through his suit jacket. “It’s okay, Channie. I want to hear about it. That was championships your junior year, right? I wasn’t there, remember?”

He focused his gaze down on you for another second as if making extra sure, and you nodded and gave him a smile for good measure. He sighed, wrapped his arm around your shoulders, and began the story, much to all your colleagues’ delight.

A little later in the night found you by the drinks table with Ten. When you had moved back to your old college town to accept a position with the Literature department, you hadn’t expected to walk in on your first day and see a familiar face. Sure, you knew you’d be seeing Dr. Son, who was the department head now and had conducted your interview, and several of your old professors, but you’d been keeping up with most of your old schoolmates and as far as you knew, Ten had moved away after you two finished your two-year master’s program and remained there.

Ten swirled his cocktail around his glass before taking a sip, his eyes trained on your fiancé, who was still surrounded. “Why do I never get that treatment?”

“Maybe you should’ve been captain,” you snickered, taking another sip of your soda.

“Too much work.” Your friend wrinkled his nose. “So what is your man doing these days anyway? He get that PhD in molecular biology about fish or whatever?”

“Yep, he’s a whole doctor,” you told your coworker, looking over at your guy with pride. “Defended his thesis last spring, we did a short stint abroad for about a year for him to study some rare fish in the tropics to cure a rare blood disease. I enjoyed all the food and the sun, really. He probably got skin cancer. And now we’re back here. He’s actually doing his post-doc research here, too.”

“He’s curing blood diseases in tropical fish?”

“No, sorry, in people,” you covered your mouth as you laughed. “Somehow, the fish could help cure a human blood disease, I’m not sure about anything past that.”

“And you’ve got a fat rock on your finger,” he teased, grabbing your hand to inspect your engagement ring. “What a power couple.”

You giggled, letting him look over the ring. “Yeah, something like that. He proposed when we were abroad. God, it was the most gorgeous sunset. Just us, nice and quiet.”

“I’m invited to the wedding, right?”

“Duh. We just haven’t sent invites yet, bitch.” You pushed him with your foot, rolling your eyes. “It’s going to be a certified frat party, I’m afraid.”

“Kegger?” Ten grinned.

“I’m enlisting Taeyong and Kun to keep all you menaces in check for me.”

“Well yeah, you can’t trust your Chenle-of-Honor to do that, he’ll be the first up to do a kegstand.”

You laughed heartily at that. “A few years ago, probably. But I’m happy to report my man-shaped best friend has grown into a real adult.”

“Really? What’s the little monster doing?”

“Middle management in advertising at a designer company. He’s got his eye on a promotion soon, though. Oh, and he’s got the cutest little dog.”

“Speaking of little monsters…” Ten trailed off, eyeing your drink, then your abdomen. “No alcohol?”

“I can’t drink on my medication, remember?” You shook the ice around in your glass smugly.

“Damn!”

As you rode home with Sungchan, your hands entwined over the console, you looked out the passenger window with contentment in your chest.

“I’m sorry, baby,” he sighed, stroking a thumb over the backs of your fingers.

“For what?” You turned to look at him curiously.

His features were pensive and regretful as he focused on the road in front of him, one hand on the steering wheel. “For being a distraction all night. Everybody was asking me about hockey the whole time when all the focus should’ve been on you and your awesome article. I’m sorry, I'll completely understand if you just leave me at home next time.”

“Channie, why the hell would I do that?” You asked through incredulous chuckles, turning to hold his hand with two hands. “Celebrating my accomplishments would mean nothing if I didn’t have you there with me.”

“But I just—”

“Admittedly, I didn’t expect there to be so many puckheads in the Lang department,” you shrugged. “But I know where we work, and you are a bit of a hometown celebrity around here, baby.”

“That sounds like something you’d call somebody who peaked in high school.”

“Right, my bad. You peaked in college.”

“Rude.” He knocked your elbow with his, making you laugh.

“I’m kidding, handsome. But I am proud of you. I snagged a good guy, and I am not going to hide you away when I go to these events just because people are going to ask about your hockey career.”

“It’s not fair to you.”

“I appreciate you trying to put the focus back on me tonight, I really do.” You squeezed his hand. “But when Seunghan said everybody in the department had read my article hundreds of times, he meant it. They all helped proof and revise it dozens of times each. I was tired of reading it by the time it was accepted if I’m being honest with you. Hearing about your hockey game was a welcome reprieve from thinking about the body as a critical site for sex, gender, and political ideology in M. Butterfly.”

“Do you mean that or are you trying to make me feel less like a dick?”

“I mean it, baby boy.” You pinched his cheek.

He squirmed in his seat as he slowed to a stop at a red light. “You never call me that anymore…”

“Seems like you needed it.”

“Hey,” he said softly, turning his head to look at you. “I love you.”

“I know.” You cupped his cheek, stroking his cheekbone fondly. “I never doubted that for a second, baby.”

Sungchan leaned across the console to press his lips to yours, cradling the back of your head. You hummed delightedly into the kiss, moving your mouth against his sweetly.

When you felt the car suddenly roll forward, you jerked back, gripping his arm with a yelp. “Channie!”

He was already grabbing the steering wheel with two hands and slamming on the brakes again. “Fuck! Sorry!”

The car had moved forward less than half a meter and you were the only car at the intersection, but it was enough to get your heart racing.

“Are you okay, baby?” Sungchan checked on you with wide eyes, keeping one hand on the wheel as he reached his other hand over to grab your knee.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine.” You put your hand over his to reassure both of you. The light turned green then. “Let’s just uh, get home in one piece, hm?”

“Sounds like a plan.” He patted your thigh, leaving his hand there as he slowly started the car forward again.

“Channie?” You called out into the house, shrugging off your coat. You’d stayed a bit late to grade papers, and while Sungchan would’ve usually stayed to walk home with you, he had wanted to get a head start on cooking dinner.

“Pantry!” He yelled back, voice distant as he was presumably deep in the walk-in pantry.

You continued shuffling through the mail you’d grabbed on your way in as you walked further into your house, tossing the junk mail in the trash as you fished out the one packet that had caught your attention. Stopping at the doorway to the pantry, you tore open the thick packet. Skimming the letter and investigating the two lanyards inside, you informed your fiancé, “Donghyuck’s team is having a preseason scrimmage at the university, and he sent us VIP passes.”

Sungchan stuck his head back out of the pantry. “So that’s why he asked for our address the other day.”

“When did you talk to Hyuck?” You asked as he gently took the letter and lanyards from your hands.

“He called me out of the blue a couple weeks ago. I was at the gym before work and completely forgot by the time I got home, sorry, baby.” He flipped over the passes hanging from the lanyards, bright green and dark black, the colors of the professional hockey team that Donghyuck had gone on to play for after college. “I thought he was going to crash on our couch or something, not this.”

“He’s a pro hockey player making like millions a year and you thought he was going to ask to couch surf?”

“You think he wouldn’t?”

“Good point,” you chuckled. “So how was he? Sound like he was doing well?”

“You said it yourself, he’s a pro hockey player making millions a year. I’m sure he’s doing great.”

You frowned up at him. “You didn’t ask?”

“It was a quick conversation, he’s busy,” Sungchan shrugged and handed everything back to you, disappearing into the pantry again. “We barely had time to say hello.”

“We should go,” you declared, setting the lanyards down in a spot so you two wouldn’t lose them.

“Baby, it’s a Friday. That’s our date night.”

“We can miss one date night for this, Channie,” you scoffed. “Besides, I’ve never heard of Jung Sungchan not wanting to go see a hockey game. Are you sure you’re my Sungchannie? Were you replaced by an alien or something?”

Sungchan kept his back to you as he started chopping vegetables. “Never mind, you’re right. We should go.”

You narrowed your eyes suspiciously, but didn’t push the issue further. “Alright...”

Sat back down in familiar bleachers, you hugged Sungchan’s arm tightly, buzzing with excitement. As much as you had loved watching Sungchan play hockey when you were younger, there was something special about watching it with him, having him explain plays, tell you if a player made the right call, or how he would have done it if he had been captain. Being able to see the sparkle in his eye up close as he watched one of his favorite things. You’d seen it plenty of times in the years that you stayed local while he got his PhD. Which is how you knew that something was wrong now, even as he tried to flash a smile at you every so often, ones that never reached his eyes. He didn’t join in the cheers very enthusiastically, and never engaged when the other guys around him tried to debate calls that the refs made.

You found out that the whole team from your senior year had been invited as well, though some of them couldn’t make it. So it was you, Sungchan, Mark, Ten, Jeno, and Chenle in the VIP section. Yangyang was staying abroad with his parents, while Sicheng was at a seminar for work. Chenle was of course invited as an honorary member of the team, fresh off a plane from Paris with that promotion in his pocket.

Donghyuck was Good. He had been great when he was on the Raptors, obviously, which was how he had gotten scouted to go pro, but now he was great. And this was just a preseason scrimmage, just him messing around. You were sure he was scary good when he was actually trying at their real games. He’d kept his old number from college, 66, and seemed to have his own legion of fans with posters and signs.

When the game was finally over—and Donghyuck’s team won—a representative from the team corralled everyone with the VIP lanyards and directed you towards a different area while the rest of the stands filtered out. You kept your hold on Sungchan’s hand as you waited in what you were pretty sure was the women’s locker room for your old friend.

Finally, Donghyuck ran in, and everyone immediately swarmed him, hooting and hollering, slapping him on the back, ruffling his hair, and making teasing remarks about being a big shot now.

“Mark!” Donghyuck threw his arms around his old Big’s neck, nearly knocking his friend over.

“Christ, dude,” Mark wheezed, stumbling back a couple steps. “Are you still wearing your gear or something?”

“Did you not keep up with our lifting regiment?” Donghyuck shamelessly felt up Mark’s arms, then gasped dramatically. “Am I the Big now?”

Mark swatted his hands away. “If you want to pay for all my beer and drive me around in your Lamborghini or whatever, sure.”

“Deal!” The pro player grinned, then turned to the next person, who happened to be you. “Y/N!”

“Hyuck!” You beamed, opening your arms wide for him to throw himself at you as well, only staying up since Sungchan was right behind you to catch you. “Hey, there! God, I can’t believe it! You killed it out there!”

“Thanks!” He let go of you with one arm to wrap it around Sungchan’s neck, pulling him into the hug with both of you. “Oh, it makes me so happy that you two are still together! Are you engaged? Married? Kids? I didn’t have time to ask Sungchan when I called the other week, I was heading into an interview.”

You leaned back as much as he would let you, just enough to show off your ring. “He proposed last year. We’re— eugh!”

You were cut off by Donghyuck tugging you two against him into a tight embrace again. You gave him a pat on the back as you continued, slightly choked with your throat pressed against his shoulder. “We’re looking at a spring wedding…”

“I love you guys so much…” Donghyuck sighed. “All of you. I hope you know that hasn’t changed.”

“We know that, Hyuck.” You coughed, rubbing his back. “Make sure we have your address so we can send you an invite, okay?”

“What did I tell you, Y/N? In undergrad?”

“You told me a lot.” You laughed as he finally let you and Sungchan go. “Some stuff you probably don’t want me to repeat right now.”

“I said you guys were soulmates. I knew you were gonna get married. I knew it.”

“Oh yeah, you did.” You squeezed his hand that he still had a grip on. “Hey, when you retire from pro hockey, you can be a fortune teller.”

“Don’t joke about that, I’m the star player, haven’t you heard?” Donghyuck was practically puffing out his chest. “I’m years off from retirement!”

Sungchan grabbed him by the scruff then, teasingly mussing up his hair. “What did we always tell you about bragging?”

Ten, Jeno, and Mark eagerly joined in on giving him a killer noogie, the four of them managing to keep him in place despite Hyuck being the only one who had remained a professional athlete.

“Ack!” Donghyuck complained as he was surrounded. “Y/N! Chenle! Somebody, help!”

“Promise you’ll buy us dinner with your star player money,” Chenle crossed his arms over his chest as he watched on, “and maybe Y/N and I will convince them to leave you alone.”

“Yeah!” Jeno agreed. “Dinner and drinks and we’ll consider!”

“This is extortion!” Donghyuck yelped.

“Glad to see some things don’t change…” You sighed, shaking your head. “You guys still pick on him.”

“He needs an ego check,” Jeno snorted, his arm now around Donghyuck’s neck.

“I was going to take you all out to dinner anyway!” Donghyuck pleaded. “Didn’t you people read the letters?”

“It was in the letter, guys,” you confirmed loudly.

The guys all looked at each other, slowly releasing their holds on the youngest. With sweet, proud smiles, they fixed his hair and straightened his branded hoodie back up, smacking his shoulder and patting his cheek between compliments of how well he played and specific moves he did, giving feedback on certain things he could improve on still. Donghyuck rolled his eyes at the constructive criticism, but you could see him struggling to suppress the fond curl of his lip at being surrounded by his old teammates again.

When you finally got home that night, you felt about ready to collapse into bed. You had a tired, happy smile on your face from seeing all your old friends again, and haphazardly tossed your go bag to the side before stepping out of your shoes. Sungchan didn’t follow you into the bedroom, as you had expected. You heard him detour to the kitchen, and your ears perked up with interest as you changed into your pajamas.

Sungchan didn’t just get a glass of water, though. You heard him rooting around in the snacks, and that’s when you got concerned. You had just eaten dinner and had drinks, and he had plenty of bar snacks as you all hung around and caught up after finishing dinner. He shouldn’t be scrounging for a midnight snack already.

After tossing your dirty clothes in the hamper, you ventured out to the kitchen determinedly. Sungchan hadn’t yet found something to eat, a frustrated pout on his face as he pulled out box after box, but didn’t open any.

“Hungry?” You asked curiously, leaning against the fridge.

“No,” he sighed, setting the container of crackers down loudly then rubbing his face harshly.

You held your hand out towards him, and he took it immediately. You led him back through your house by the hand, into your bathroom and let go there. Walking back out through the house, you grabbed his desk chair from your joint home office, and pulled it into the bathroom. He was standing exactly where you left him, and let you wordlessly push him down by the shoulders to sit in the chair. Washing and drying your hands, you then readjusted the chair, making sure he was exactly where you needed him. Then you climbed onto his lap facing him, the two of you perpendicular to your bathroom vanity. You grabbed a fuzzy character headband from one of your drawers and put it on him, pushing his hair back from his face.

“I—”

“Shh.” You stopped him as soon as he opened his mouth, putting your own headband on.

Next, you grabbed your cleanser.

“What—”

“Shh,” you repeated with more emphasis, holding his eye contact firmly, until he gave up and closed his mouth, letting his head fall back against the head rest.

You meticulously went through your whole extended skincare routine, doing each step first on Sungchan, then on yourself. He finally gave up on trying to talk, then finally relaxed, then really relaxed, his eyes fluttering shut and a pleased hum rising in the back of his throat.

“All done, handsome,” you announced at the end, giving his cheeks a final squish between your hands, then pulling off his headband and fluffing up his hair.

Sungchan slowly opened his eyes, reaching up to take your headband off as well.

You smiled down at him. “How are you feeling, Channie?”

“Better, thank you, baby,” he replied quietly.

“You want to talk about it?”

He couldn’t look you in the eye. “About what?”

“Whatever’s been getting you bummed lately. You weren’t all there tonight, I could tell. And the day we got the passes, you didn’t even want to come in the first place. That’s not like you.” You put both your headbands aside on the counter, then stood up off him. “You get changed into your pajamas, I’ll tidy up in here. We’ll talk in a few minutes, okay?”

“Yeah, okay.” He nodded, getting up and grabbing the chair to drag back with him.

You wiped down the bathroom counter and tidied up all your bottles and containers, listening to the sounds of Sungchan getting ready in the next room over. When you walked back into your bedroom, you were thrown for a loop as you couldn’t see your fiancé for a moment. You found him in your living room, sitting on your couch and holding a picture frame that usually lived on one of the end tables.

Sitting down beside him, you looked at the picture with him. It was of you two at his last collegiate hockey game, him still in his uniform as he picked you up and spun you around, bright smiles on both your faces. His face now was brooding, jaw clenched and eyes hard as he continued staring at it.

“You got me that for our first anniversary,” you commented softly. “I love that picture.”

“I do too,” he sighed, though his tone was much more bitter than his words.

“Talk to me, Channie,” you murmured. “What’s going on?”

“It feels like I can’t ever move on from this.” He shook the frame. “From being Sungchan the hockey captain. I know you were just joking when you said it but—I don’t want to actually be that guy that peaked in college.”

“Oh, Channie...” you breathed out, draping an arm across his back and leaning your cheek against his shoulder. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize...”

“It’s not you, baby,” he assured you, squeezing your knee. “It’s everything else. Like I try to do anything else, be anything else, but I’m just dragged back into that stupid jock box again.”

“Well, what do you want to be?” You asked as you sat back up, rubbing up and down the center of his chest soothingly. “Not what you think other people want you to be, or what you think you should be. What do you actually like? What do you want to do? Do you still like hockey? Outside of everybody’s opinions about you liking hockey? It’s okay either way, for you to still like it or not. It was the biggest thing in your life for like twenty years, baby. It’d be ridiculous to expect you to just suddenly not like it as soon as you graduated.”

“Do you really want a husband that just talks about sports all the time while you’re talking about smart stuff?” He sighed, letting his eyes close as he leaned all of his weight against you, his hands dropping to rest the frame in his lap.

“I want a husband that’s you. That’s why I accepted your proposal and not like, Dr. Yoon’s or something.”

“I’m going to assume you’re being hyperbolic to make a point and that my research head didn’t actually propose to you. Because if not, then I’m going to stop pouting and write my letter of resignation right now.”

“I’m trying to make a point here.”

“Which is?”

“You’re really underselling yourself, Channie.” You encouraged him to lay his head in the crook of your neck, not letting up your movements on his sternum. “You’re plenty smart. We’ve been together for almost seven years and I still couldn’t keep track of a hockey game if a gun was to my head. Meanwhile you were a whole captain. You had to make decisions on your feet—or, your skates. Not to mention, hm, oh yeah, you have a PhD in molecular biology. Did you forget about that? Doctor Jung?”

“Oh yeah,” he mumbled into your collarbone.

“Oh yeah,” you mimicked him lovingly. “I nearly flunked my bio for non-majors course my freshman year, you know.”

“What?” He squinted up at you. “Seriously?”

“Seriously.”

“You knew I was a Bio major, you should’ve asked me for help.”

“I kick myself every day for it,” you replied melodramatically, and finally saw a smile tug at the corner of his lips. “So? Do you think you still like hockey or not?”

He let out a deep sigh. “Yeah, I do. I really do.”

“Good. I’m glad.” You kissed the top of his head. “I want you to do stuff that makes you happy.”

“Coach came and found me at the lab last week... the day we got the VIP passes from Donghyuck. He’s looking for a part-time assistant coach, said I was his first pick,” Sungchan admitted quietly.

“That’s why you were so... off that day, huh?”

“Yeah. It felt like I was handed a pamphlet for a retirement home.”

You chuckled as he reached forward to set the picture down on the coffee table, then grabbed your hand that was on his chest. He looked up at you with heartachingly familiar, big, round doe eyes, ones that hadn’t changed in the ten years since you’d first met.

“I told him no but... I’m thinking maybe I should ask if he’s found someone else yet?”

“I think that’s a great idea, baby.” You pecked his forehead. “Coach Jung… I think I like the sound of that.”

“Yeah?” He grinned, a much different look in his eye as he sat up to his full height, towering over you.

“I don’t know, let me try it again.”

“Go ahead.”

“Coach Jung.” You reached for the back of his neck as he laid you down on your couch, hovering over you. “Yeah, it’s got a nice ring to it, huh? Powerful, sexy. I love a man with a whistle.”

“You’re so dorky,” he snickered, letting you pull his lips down to yours. “I love you so much.”

“I love you more, my Sungchannie.” You cradled his face with both of your hands.

“Lies.” He kissed your lips. “Impossible.” He kissed your neck.

“Says who?”

“Who has the whistle here?”

“You don’t have one yet,” you teased, holding your arms up for him to pull your shirt off. “Assistant Coach Jung.”

Sungchan kissed a trail down your front, stopping above your waistband. “You’re forgetting something, baby.”

“What’s that?”

“I’m a scientist, with a degree and everything, and I say it’s scientifically impossible for anybody to love anybody more than I love my girl.”

You made grabby hands at him, and he rose up from where he had settled between your legs, entirely blocking out the lights above you. You connected your mouths together again, wrapping your arms and legs around him so tightly he had no choice but to lay his entire weight on top of you.

“No fair,” you complained into his mouth. “I just told you I almost flunked Gen Ed bio.”

“You should’ve let me be your sexy tutor, then.” He didn’t sound sympathetic at all.

“Yeah, freshman you all sweaty and nervous in your hockey team hoodie.” You broke apart to giggle. “Real hot stuff, Channie. Literally.”

“You’re lucky you’re the love of my life, or I’d be really hurt at some of the stuff you say to me, you know.”

“You’re right.” You gave him a peck. “I am lucky that I’m the love of your life.”

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misstycloud · 1 year

Note

Yandere actor x actor reader in an interview?

“So, as you know the movie has now become a major success in the movie industry,”

You and the man beside you both nod in unision at the hostess statement, confirming her remark with a certain pride one receives after all the hard work finally pays off.

“-what would you say was your favourite part to film?” The woman asked, intrigued. She turns her curious gaze towards you first, so you go ahead and answer.

“Well I would say it was the resturant scene, since we actually got to eat real food. And if the shot wasn’t good enough they’d have to bring out a new full plate to reshoot it.” You professionally replied with a laugh.

The woman and rest of the audience chuckled along at your confession. She even made a joke of accusing you of messing up on purpose so you’d be able to taste the dish over and over again.

The question was then directed at the other guest. He crossed his legs while straightening the tie on his very expensive suit, giving him a cold and rigid appearance.

“I personally favoured doing the wedding.” Was all he said. Nothing more nothing less.

The show host laughed in an awkward manner at the short and uninterested reply. You wanted to sink into the cushioned chair and pinch your brow. Could he stop doing that, you begged mentally.

Although it’s basically what he’s been doing all through his career and people should’ve really seen it coming by now, you still wished to save the embarrassment.

Deciding to do something, you nudged his arm with your elbow and whispered, “What else? What about it made you like it?”

Ace’s face lit up in realisation and ‘ah’ed. “The Production Designers made a great job in creating the venue. They made it feel like a real ceremony. Everything was done in near perfection, the decorations were good suiting my tastes and all.”

“Oh, is that so, and what was the best part of ‘your wedding’?” The hostess leaned in closer, anticipating his answer.

A small hint of a smile grew on the caramel-haired man’s face, so small in fact that it would be hard for anyone but you and the other woman to catch it. “The best part you ask? It is without a doubt that I got to see (Y/n) looking so beautiful- not to say she isn’t always- but I am sure you understand what I mean.”

She burst out in giggles at his confession and so did the audience, loving the prospect of a real life romance that might be happening behind the camera. You and Ace seemed like the ideal couple after all. Both being highly attractive, talented and having some unexplainable connection.

The perfect pair.

“Wow, I don’t think I’ve had any guest be so honest with their feelings toward their co-star!Say, Mr. Lee, you’re not one known to form a close bond to your fellow actors but there’s an obvious exception here.” She pried, all giddy. If she managed to get a juicy reply, her show would definitely make the top from there. “Does this mean miss (Y/n) is someone very special?”

News on your relationship would spread and be the topic of magazines and conversations. Everyone were invested in it, even though it wasn’t officially confirmed that you and Ace were a thing.

Your body tensed at the question. You didn’t want people to think you were dating for real, as if it were confirmed. That would cause a bunch of trouble you had no interest in handling. All those people were fooled.

Tough you didn’t wish to call your fans and the general public idiots, it’s exactly what they were when it came to him. They had no idea of what he was really like. Sure they knew he could be taken as a bit of an oddball, not the person to gladly socialise like other celebrities.

But only those who had worked closely with him knew the extent of his troubling personality. Picky, selfish, entitled and rude towards everyone; those were the prominent qualities. You couldn’t count on the times you’d been forced to save some poor employee from his clutches.

Only after noticing your presence did he switch up his act and turn into a completely different person. Front of you he’d act sweetly, if you hadn’t caught him being horrible to others you wouldn’t have believed he was capable of such things.

In all honesty, it was somewhat disturbing how he was able to turn the switch so quickly. That’s the prodigy actors, you supposed.

You sent Ace a firm look, warning him not to do something he’ll regret. AKA, lying and saying you were together. And what does he do? He had the audacity to freaking smirk. You nearly scream in your seat. What an ass!

“Yes, she is indeed very special to me.” Ace said as he sent you a meaningful gaze.

By now you were ready to slap him. It had been hard enough to keep more rumours about the two at bay than the already existing ones, there was no need for this shit. Angrily, you kicked his leg. Which no one saw because the angle worked in your favour. Ace hissed in response.

And instead of getting mad like the normal human being, he said with a sly grin, “Actually, do you want to know another favourite scene of mine?”

The hostess perked up at this, “Yes, certainly!”

“The one where I get the privilege of proposing to (Y/n). It was wonderful, just wishing she’d accept my real one.”

Silence. Then an uproar.

“Does this imply the rumours are true? And have you gone so far you’re thinking of marriage?”

“No, no!” You instantly deny, “He’s not serious, he loves to joke around sometimes, haha. Isn’t that right?” You regard Ace who sits calmly in his position, not caring to say a word.

‘He’s getting off from this, isn’t he!’

“Oh don’t be shy miss (Y/n)! It’s been obvious since a long time ago. You’re made for each other!”

“No. We’re not! We’re really not. There’s nothing more between us than friendship. ”

———-

‘Ugh. Why did he have to do that?’ You complained to yourself after the show was over.

As you stumbled around in the corridors, the person who caused your irritated state popped up.

“Just the person I wanted to see.” You spat at him.

“It’s good to see you too, love. Since the wrap-up of the movie I haven’t had the chance to see you for so long. It’s been very lonely.” Ace approached you and tried to caress your cheek, you stepped away.

“What the hell did you do that for? Don’t go around spouting shit that isn’t true.”

“I can assure you, my love for you is very true. There isn’t anything more genuine than that.” He pleaded.

“Just stop!” You pushed him away, “I don’t want you anywhere near me. I’m done with you! No more movies together. We’ll never see each other again, okay!”

The moment you started leaving, a voice sounded behind you. In a confident tone your now nemesis asserted, “We’ll see about that, dear.”

—————————

857 notes · View notes

twilghtkoo · 1 year

Text

show time

— pairings. huh yunjin x (f) reader

— genre. smut with no plot, established relationship

— warnings. 18+, lesbian sex, dom!yunjin, sub!reader, bedroom sex, scissoring, cum eating, face sitting, pussy eating, squirting, sex toys!! vibrator and strap-on, use of the word ‘mommy’, exhibitionism, yunjin holding your thighs while she eats u out, piss kink experimenting?? sorry not sorry, both of them are so so so in love :( nipple play, pussy spanking

— series masterlist

“yunjin, fuck!”

she had you pinned against your bed, hands intertwined with yours, legs on her shoulders, now would be a time to be thankful for the gymnastic lessons you were in when you were in high school. yunjin rubbing herself hard on your wet, throbbing clit. your tits glistening from her spit when she was sucking on them earlier, sticking to your breasts and coating your hard, abused nipples.

she let go of one of your wrists, her hips not stopping, as she reaches over and grabs the vibrator wand, she turns it on and presses it to your nipple. grinning when she watches your face scrunch up from the stimulation. she moves the vibrator to be in the middle of both your pussy’s.

“fuck...” she hisses. “make a mess baby.”

you grabbed a fistful of your sheets and whined, your lower half prickling with the relentless vibrations of the highest setting. you can feel your body heat radiate off of you from the previous orgasm she gave you from a bit ago.

“it feels so good mommy!” holding the vibrator while thrusting against your pussy was a lot of work so she turned it off and tossed it aside, going back to fucking you. “yunjin!”

each time yunjin rubbed her pussy over yours, squirts of your juices spurted out of you making your back arch. the loud sound of wet skin slapping against each other as chae chases her high. she rolls her hips against you several more times, moaning out your name.

she drops your legs before diving back down and greedily slurping all of you up.

you kept your thighs against your chest as you tangled your fingers into her hair, pinning her face down there.

“oh f-fuck. baby yes, that feels so good...” you cried out literal tears, the pleasure becoming overstimulating.

you push her head away, your legs plopping back down on the bed shaking.

she smiles at you full of pride, as she licks her lips and wipes her chin. “your pussy smells so fucking good baby.” she leans down, kissing you hard, your scent filling up your nose and the taste of you on her lips. she murmurs your name, teasing your lower lip with her teeth, the room smelling strongly like sex.

sliding your hands down her bare back, your hands cupping her ass and squeezing it. you slid your hands down her ass, reaching her wet folds as you plunge two fingers in her.

she moans into your mouth, grinding herself into your touch.

she shudders above you, as your non busy hand holds her closer gripping her waist.

she gasps as your fingers slid in and out, burying them all the way to your knuckles before pulling them almost all the way out, coating your digits in her slickness, the sour-sweet scent staining the air and your skin.

“oh fuck...”

she grabs your chin, kissing you fiercely, as you drive your fingers into her over and over. capturing her whimpers in your mouth and your exhales in her throat. she grinds her hips to follow your movements, matching your pace.

you pump your fingers faster and harder, the squelching sound getting louder and clearer.

“fuck, baby, we left the curtains open...” she breathes out.

it was around evening, the night sky a dark blue, and the building next to you is probably getting a good view of you both fucking each other. it only made you wetter though. and it sounds like chae too. so good, so wrong.

“sounds like you like the idea of someone watching us right now,” you snickered. “a moaning mess as i fuck your pretty hole with my fingers huh?” emphasizing your words with powerful thrusts, stretching her out and making her gasp for air.

she tilts her head back, letting out a sharp cry as you add another finger, your mouth attaching to the side of her neck and biting down.

“baby, yes, fuck, yes...ahhh!”

your teeth marking her as you pushed her over the edge, your name tumbling from her lips as she fell limp onto you. you roughly pull your fingers out and shove them in your mouth and groaning, sucking off her juices and taste.

you grab her chin, her eyes droopy and mind hazy as you crash your lips onto hers, smothering her with the taste of her own orgasm.

you smile, she jerks her head up to your loving eyes. “i want you to ride mommy’s cock. can you be a good girl and do that for me?” you hungrily nod your head, obeying her orders as you run off the bed to grab the strap on in your closet and handing it to her.

yunjin could make you do anything when her voice became like that.

“feels...so...fucking...good...fucking..mommy!” you gasped out, punctuating each word with a wet slap of your pussy down onto chaeyoung’s cock. listening to her moan and her long acrylic nails scrape across your back and ass. your name drifting out of her lips, soft and sweet compared to how hard you were fucking yourself on this strap on.

you cried out when she reached and pinched your nipples, rolling them between the pad of her fingers, your violent riding on her cock causing your nipples to be tugged and pulled, your boobs bouncing in her face.

pretty sure you saw chae drooling but your eyes kept closing shut each time your ass reached the end of her dick.

she watches you come undone, you leaking more and more on yunjin’s crotch, eyelids fluttering as you sneak your fingers to rub circles on your throbbing clit.

“what do you think you’re doing?” yunjin notices you playing with yourself as your ride out your high, slapping away your hand from your clit.

you whimper.

you try to lift yourself off and pull out but chae holds you in place by your waist. your body squirming as chaeyoung fiercely rubbed the sensitive bud, one of your nipples still being pinched, sparks of pain and intense ecstasy, cumming once and then twice, gasping for air.

“baby, ah, fuck, fuck, p-please, one more!”

your whole body shuddering and flinching, a third orgasm crashing down on you, still on yunjin’s cock.

“mmm, so fucking pretty making a mess on me.”

you pitched forward but chae catches you, your trembling, tortured body wrapped in her arms as you exhale on her collarbone. overstimulated clit slightly glazed against the strap on making you flinch and giggle.

“you did good baby, shh, you did good.”

you breathe, “i have to pee.” you try to lift yourself up from her hold to waddle to the bathroom but she pushes you back to the bed.

she grips your thighs as she towers over you, your abused, glistening pussy out in the open.

you wiggle her legs to get out of her hold but she tightens her grip. “no, i’m gonna pee myself.” you whine.

she smirks. “so?” she spreads your thighs apart as she situates herself onto your pussy, the feeling of her sitting on you makes you cry out. “baby, i’m seriously gonna pee myself, get off!”

chae lifts herself back off, raising her hand to slap your pussy. making you flinch and curl.

“i don’t care.” she growls, scissoring your tortured pussy for her pleasure as you moan and cry out her name.

“fuck, fuck, yunjin, i can’t hold it in!” you whimpered, and that makes chae eager as she viciously rubs her own pussy on yours.

“let go.”you gasped, feeling you wet yourself and the bed while your fourth orgasm takes over. your walls shook, shudders of pleasure and embarrassment shooting up your spine and heating up your cheeks.

she lets out a deep sigh, ��feel better baby?”

“yunjin i just peed myself...” you whimpered, you don’t fail to notice her pussy dripping wet from you urinating.

her hand gently comes up to caress your face. “it’s okay, it’s just me baby. i didn’t mind, i kind of liked it. but if you didn’t like it then i won’t make you do that again, i’m sorry baby.” she softly apologizes and assures you there’s nothing to be embarrassed about.

your silent, still shuddering from the fourth orgasm of the night.

“words baby, did you like it or no? don’t be afraid to tell me.”

you silently nod, “i kinda liked it? but i don’t think i want to do it again.” you shyly admit.

she leans down and kisses your lips. “okay, we won’t do it again.”

1K notes · View notes

auteurdelabre · 4 months

Note

I don’t know if you take requests but I love your writing and I’m dying for a slow burn in post outbreak Jackson. Joel and fem reader strangers to friends to eventual lovers. Reader is in love with Joel from the beginning and is like him strong silent type but with a heart of gold. Lots of pinning and then a surprise when it turns out Joel pines for her too and Tommy and Ellie know that he loves her. Maybe some jealousy thrown in before soft dom Joel to sub reader smut. Then a snippet of them together after confession of love so you can hear what other towns folk think about them. Anyway, if you don’t take asks that’s totally cool and I look forward to reading whatever you write! :)

EDIT: I DID THE DAMN THING.

rating: 18+

words: 4.1k

a/n: I hope you like this @ashleyfilm.

Joel’s Eyes

The autumn chill of Jackson City winds around the sleepy hamlet nestled snugly within the Wyoming landscape. The open window allows a breeze to ruffle the blankets on the end of the bed, your body moving rhythmically over his. He holds you by the hips, fingertips dimpling your flesh as you ride him; thighs spread wide and whimpers falling like snow over his body. His dark eyes stay fixed on you, his smile gentle as he encourages you to keep going.

“That’s my girl,” he murmurs. “You keep goin’, baby. Just like that.”

It’s been three years since Joel and Ellie arrived and set up their permanent home. A snug rancher with a garage for Ellie to convert to her teenage heart’s content. Three years since his lie to her that still sat somewhere wedged behind his sternum, but a lie he could ignore over drinks at the Tipsy Bison or hours spent carving in his shed out back.

It’s been eleven months since you arrived with your brother and his husband to Jackson. Living in the Denver QZ was nothing compared to the wide-open spaces of Wyoming. The food was plentiful, the community kind and warm.

Your brother Anthony gripped Hank’s hand a little tighter as they were shown one of the available houses on Magnolia Street. A sweet little spot with two bedrooms and bright windows. Maria and Tommy mentioned that there was another space for you as well if you wanted to look at it, a one bedroom one street over. You’d been thrown at the concept, having lived with your brother your entire life.

You didn’t want that to change. You didn’t trust the bright endless sky above you. Didn’t trust the neighbors that smiled without sharp fangs. It didn’t feel quite real to ask for bread and not have to give a part of yourself in return. You were wary of everything.

The first night you watched the moon rise from the window of your very own bedroom with its soft bedding and firm pillows. Despite the comfort of your surroundings there was an ache, a loneliness you couldn’t understand.

You were out of the house most days, feeling like a burden to your brother and his endlessly patient husband. It made you seek out Maria and ask where you could volunteer your time in a quiet voice. You needed to give back to this place that gave you plentiful nutritious food and a warm bed.

She’d been eager to show you the different spots in town; the kitchen, the old church, the textile room, the library. You wanted to see everything, barely speaking, and all big eyes on the landmarks she pointed out with Tommy’s hand in hers.

“These are the stables,” she told you as you ambled after them. “They get taken care of by those that do the patrols.”

You nodded as you glanced around the large space, eyes falling on the different colored horses inside. Many were leaning over the wooden gates, eager at the new faces and hoping for a treat. One with a diamond pattern on its forehead intrigued you into reaching a hand out to pet it. It huffed warm air along your bare palm, its whiskers scouring lifelines for a nibble. A husky voice accompanied shuffled boots in your direction.

“New patrolee?”

“Nah just showing her around,” Tommy’s voice replied.

You glanced over your shoulder to see a broad-shouldered man with warm but serious eyes and dark curls threaded with grey that fell just below his ears. The minute you saw him it was like Cupid himself came down to spear you brutally between the ribs. A sharp sting that sent you backwards a step, the breath knocked out of you.

A sensation wholly new to you overtook your body. The nerves that had been choking you suddenly dissipated, leaving you warm and strangely calm.

Joel gave you a sharp nod before heading into a pen marked “Glimmer”. Your eyes stayed on his frame until he receded from view. The mere sight of his soulful eyes had made your breathing come out in tiny huffs that gave Maria an amused pause.

“That’s Joel,” she offered casually, though her glance to Tommy was anything but. “His brother.”

“Oh.”

You didn’t offer more than that.

But you did come back to the stables the next day and the day after that. You brought in feed and mucked out stalls. You did this all with the same solemnity that was in your nature. You met new people but rarely offered your smile to them. You didn’t trust that it would be accepted or handled with care.

But there was no Joel.

It wasn’t until you’d been doing it a week that you saw him again. He was guiding Glimmer into her pen and he looked exhausted. You had always kept to yourself out of the way, but something about Joel’s presence carried your feet in his direction. It made you hover near the pens and hold out your hand for the reins.

“I’ll take her,” you offered quietly.

Joel moved by you, his eyes not casting in your direction, his attention all on the horse. Immediately you felt the sour sting of public humiliation. A teen girl had entered the space after Joel and she saw the altercation.

“Don’t be upset,” she said. “He’s like that with everyone after patrols. He’s just tired.”

“Thanks,” you muttered, cheeks still warm.

“I’m Ellie,” the girl said, brushing a hand down the horse’s ribs with a playful tilt of her lips. “Who the fuck are you?”

Ellie was funny and warm and she was Joel’s daughter. She told you bits and pieces of their past and you didn’t push for more. You were quiet and thoughtful and Ellie told her you reminded her of Joel. This though amused and then delighted you, stuck on the idea of some invisible connection between you and the taciturn man.

You didn’t know why you felt drawn to him, you simply did. Not for the protection he could bring, not because every woman in town seemed besotted with him, not because he was handsome. But because from that first day there had been something in his eyes that called to you and that you desperately wanted to answer. A feeling of peace that you hadn’t felt in years. Safety.

When you passed him in town you thought you saw a lingering glance in your direction, but you knew that it was an idea nursed in delusion. This was a one-sided affection but you didn’t mind. After years of bad relationships in the QZ and the terror of travelling, having a harmless crush felt fun. A concept that was foreign and yet welcomed.

So you watched Joel Miller from behind the pens when he brought Glimmer in after patrols. You watched him when he and Ellie ate in the dining hall together, Ellie cracking jokes while one corner of Joel’s pouty mouth curled into a smirk. You watched him help building the new homes in town and if your eyes connected it was always you who looked away first with your pulse spiking.

It was three months before you spoke to Joel again, this time a simple “excuse me” when you bumped into him at one of the movie nights. The film had ended and you’d been making your way through the crowd before he stopped suddenly in front of you. Your hands flew to his chest, warm and taut under your fingers. He responded with a soft grunt, hands coming to grip your elbows. His touch was fleeting before he was nodding and shifting past you into the crowd while your heart hammered in your ribcage.

It was five months before he spoke a full sentence to you. “Can you put her away?” in response to Glimmer. You’d nodded, still not trusting yourself to speak in his presence after the first interaction. When his fingers brushed yours to pass you the reins you felt it tingle through your entire body. You couldn’t look in his face, convinced he would see the way your pupils had turned heart-shaped because how could they not have done so?

You tried to find reasons to bring up Joel in conversation with your brother and Hank, desperate to learn more about him from someone other than Ellie. Did they know Joel Miller? Neither of them did. Anthony let a small smirk cross his features when you asked, but it was Hank that answered.

“Don’t run in the same circles,” Hank shrugged. “I hear he’s tough though.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, good with a gun too.”

“Hmmm.”

That night you waited until the rest of the house was asleep before thrusting your fingers between your thighs. You brought yourself to a muffled yet toe-curling orgasm at the image of Joel, gun raised, protecting you.

It was six months of living in Jackson before Ellie had Joel’s hand in hers, dragging him over to where you sat eating breakfast in the dining hall alone. You’d been trying to covertly watch Joel while eating your pancakes and the ever receptive Ellie had obviously had enough.

“I thought it was time you two actually talked,” she said with an eye roll before stomping off. You felt your cheeks heating up, convinced that now everyone could see your obvious feelings for her Dad. Joel looked equally thrown, his eyes going everywhere but yours. Finally he cleared his throat, nodding at you.

“I’m Joel.”

“I know.”

You winced at both the breathy tone and the blunt of your reply. You introduced yourself, swallowing when Joel’s lips curled into a small smirk, his eyes finally landing on yours.

“I know.”

Then he’d walked off, sauntering away back to his table and your clamped your thighs together tightly under the table. He knew your name? You immediately inflated at the thought that he’d asked around about you before remembering that Ellie had probably told him. She was one of the few people you interacted with here in Jackson. Keeping to yourself felt safer. But being in Joel’s eye line felt safest.

It was eight months when Joel sat next to you at the bar top of the Tipsy Bison. You had a bottle of something sickly sweet and potent in your grip. It was your third of that evening and you had moved from pleasant buzz all the way into the beginning stages of drunkenness.

Earlier that night Anthony and Hank had looked at you across the dining table with painted on smiles.

“Maria was saying that they’ve done a lot of building. You could probably get your own place if you wanted,” Anthony said it kindly, not insisting one way or the other. Hank smiled warmly over the dining table, but you saw the hope there in his eyes. A home for just them and you wanted to give them that. They deserved it.

You’d nodded emphatically, telling them of course and that the idea excited you when in truth the concept terrified you. Being alone all the time? You knew you were safe within this haven of a town, but there were still the nightmares.

But in that fear there was a thrill of the unknown. Of having a place to call your own. But who to share it with? You’d had the built in company of your brother and Hank. You knew next to no one in this town. No one made you feel safe except for the man you barely spoke to.

Your conversation with them drove you to the Bison, needing a distraction from your distress. When you glanced up to see Joel Miller sliding into the barstool beside you it had taken all your drunken self control not to confess that his eyes were the most beautiful things you’d ever seen. Dark brown, like warm molasses that you desperately wished would drip over you.

He ordered a whiskey, hands folded on the gleaming wood of the bar. He tilted his face in your direction as he waited to be served, a light smile on his lips as he spied the three empty bottles in front of you.

“You doin’ okay?”

“Mhmm.” You nodded at your sweating bottle, fingertip tracing over the trail of a fallen droplet.

“Don’t see you around the stables much anymore.”

This surprised you, having assumed that Joel didn’t notice you one way or another. Up this close you could see the freckles on his neck, could smell the wood from his carvings (thanks Ellie for that info), and whatever scent made him uniquely Joel in your olfactory opinion.

“They moved me to kitchen duty.”

“Oh.”

He brought his drink to his lips and full of liquid courage a thought bubbled forth and turned into a question thrown at his feet.

“Why’d you ignore me the first time I talked to you, Joel?”

Joel’s brow quirked at that, not seeing the connection from one conversation topic to the next. Your cheeks burned at the memory of him walking by you, not even sparing a glance. Joel turned his broad body towards you, hand dangerously close to yours resting atop the wood bar top.

“When was that?”

“That first day in the stables. I said I’d put Glimmer in the pen.”

Joel looked thoughtfully into middle distance, brows drawn.

“I didn’t even know you said anything. You talk so damn quiet.”

“Oh.”

“I don’t mind it,” Joel told you quickly, his body twisting away as he continued drinking. “Everyone else is so loud around here.”

As it to emphasize such a statement a loud braying group of men guffawed over cards. You and Joel exchanged an amused look before going back to your respective drinks. The secret moment made you feel warm.

You’d excused yourself quickly after that, tilting the remaining dregs of your beer into your mouth and then stumbling out of the bar. You’d just stepped out the door preparing for your journey home when you spotted Anthony looking harried.

“I was looking for you everywhere,” he said with concern, jogging over to you. “Since when do you get drunk?”

“Decided to try it out,” you slurred, a sloppy grin bleeding across your face. “I like it.”

Anthony laughed before slipping an arm around your waist. You leaned into him, breathing in the crisp night air deeply as you two stumbled towards home.

“Why’re you here, Tony?”

“You left so quickly earlier,” Anthony replied in a soft murmur, pressing a chaste kiss to your temple. “I just need you to know that there’s no rush about the m-“

“Get your hands off her.”

You’d both turned, startled by the snarled shout coming from behind you. Your bleary eyes took in Joel’s hand whipping out in front of him, gripping Anthony’s sweatshirt in his hand and hauling him away from you. With a drunken slur you tried to catch his attention, but Joel had already pressed Anthony up against the wood side of the building.

“Joel!” you shouted. “What’re-“

“She’s drunk,” Joel barked into Anthony’s face. “And you’re here tryin’ to make a move?”

“No!” Anthony shouted eyes wide with terror.

“You don’t get to touch her,” Joel growled and for the first time since you arrival you saw the ruthless killer people whispered about in his wake.

Anthony was up close to see the narrowing of Joel’s eyes, the baring of his teeth and he could only grip Joel’s wrist in supplication.

“She’s my sister!”

Joel’s gaze widened and then darted over his shoulder to yours for confirmation. All you could do was nod miserably as you watched Joel lower your brother to the ground as if he weighed nothing.

Before you could say anything to either party Joel had mumbled an apology and taken off into the night, his long legs slicing through the air. You expect Anthony to be furious or at least scared, but as he brushes down his sweater he’s smiling at you.

“What?”

“So that’s Joel.”

“Yeah,” you shrugged with embarrassment. Anthony was almost laughing.

“He likes you.”

Your head rose abruptly from where you’d had it hung over your sternum. “He doesn’t.”

“He does. He was all protective of you.”

“He doesn’t,” you insist unsteadily even though everything in your body is coming alive at the idea. “That’s just Joel, I think.”

But Anthony doesn’t let up. He teases you mercilessly about it for two weeks. Two weeks in which you have replayed that moment over and over in the confines of your bedroom. You don’t get to touch her. You don’t get to touch her. You don’t get to touch her.

And at the end of two weeks and no sign of Joel you found his address from Ellie and marched to his house.

You give a sharp rap on the door, shocked when it flies open and a grumpy looking Joel takes up the entire doorframe. He looks like he’s been recently awoken and it makes your core twitch. Seeing Joel all sleepy and soft makes you want to curl into him.

“Hi Joel.”

His sweet molasses eyes land on you, widening in surprise. The irritation there flees immediately and is replaced with gentle surprise.

“How do you know where I live?” Joel asks in a quiet rasp with his brows knitting together.

“Ellie.”

You’ve never been a loud talker and now with Joel’s beautiful face in front of you, this moment is no exception. Joel leans forward a fraction, ear tilted towards you.

“Wassat?”

"Ellie."

"Oh, a' course."

He gives a breathless chuckle as his dark eyes scan over your shoulder, surveying the neighborhood to see if you're alone. He rocks back on his heels, reminding you of a chastised child.

"Look, I'm real sorry about what happened with your brother," he says and observing the way he's bracing himself you think he assumes you're here to dress him down. The thought takes you by surprise before amusing you.

"Why did you?"

Joel stares at you a beat, acutely surprised by your sudden confidence.

"Was worried he was a stranger," Joel finally mutters. "And I didn't like some strange guy touchin' you."

You're shocked to see pink rising to his tanned cheeks. It makes you feel bolder; it makes you take a step towards Joel on his porch. It makes you speak a little louder, a little bolder.

"Why?"

His gaze drags from the ground, taking its time to travel from your feet to your eyes.

"You mean it ain't obvious?" He exhales slowly, looking defeated. “Cuz… your mine.”

You feel as your body jerks to life at this simple statement. The possessiveness in his tone, the desire, the hope all mixing into one incredibly potent cocktail.

“I mean, I want you to be mine,” he amends quickly, licking his dried lips nervously.

You can't help reach out a hand to touch his chest, palm flat. You feel his heartbeat there, fluttering like a trapped bird in a strong cage. Joel swallows, his gaze going from your hand back to your searching eyes on his.

"I didn't know you liked me," you say in a hush to his sternum. "I didn't-"

"The day you got here," Joel confesses in haste. "The second I saw you...Somethin' just... clicked."

Your heart sings, making your pupils grow large in your eyes as you stare up at Joel. His large hand cups your cheek, thumb dragging over your bottom lip. You hold in a shiver as his eyes shutter.

"Haven't been able to get you outta my head since then."

"I felt it too," you say quickly, your hand sliding up to his shoulder as you step closer to him. "The moment I saw your eyes."

Those very eyes dart back and forth between your own, looking for guile, looking for deception. When they find none, they shine again with that sweet warm cinnamon color gazing back at you.

"I'm not a good person,” he says in a voice that sounds tired and broken. A voice of regret and life lived. His warm hand drops from your cheek and he takes a step backwards into his house, away from your touch. “I've done a lot of terrible shit.”

You grip his hand in yours, guiding it back until it cups your cheek again. He allows this, even welcomes it. He stands watching as you nuzzle into his palm, eyes closing as you bask in the warmth of his touch. Joel feels his feet stepping forward again, drawing near to you and this feeling you bring out in him.

You open your eyes and reach up above his shoulder. He allows your fingers trap one of the curls below his ear, testing the smooth texture, seeing the browns and grays mixing together and reveling that you’re finally touching Joel Miller. He has your face in both his hands now, holding you delicately.

“I don’t deserve ya,” he whispers.

"Says who?"

"Says me."

"Well I says I want you," you say smirking a moment after hearing it out loud.

You've always been so quiet and serious. Right now there's almost a levity in how you look at Joel and he finds he likes it. A lot. His face breaks into a broad grin and you're amazed at how it transforms his face from austere to boyish. It makes you sigh, angling your body closer to his.

"I wanted you the second I saw you, Joel. I can't explain it." Your hands lace behind his neck. 'Being around you makes me feel-."

"Safe," he finishes for you.

When you nod he does the same, eyes scanning yours. You take a moment, hearts beating in tandem before he pulls you into his arms, mouth pressing to yours. The kiss is everything you’d hoped; warm and soft and sweet. It wraps you up in a cocoon of safety built with lust and comfort.

And now its eleven months and you live in your own home. It’s a street over from Joel’s and you take turns staying over at each other’s places. You also take turns cooking every night but it’s always done at Joel’s kitchen, often with Ellie offering unsolicited opinions from her space at the table where she sketches and makes retching noises when Joel kisses you. When you all eat together each night in the Miller kitchen there’s lots of laughing and shared stories and and if Ellie’s getting on Joel’s nerves he makes sure to kiss you heaps just to gross her out.

Despite how they first met, Anthony is one of Joel’s biggest fans with Hank following close behind. The three of them go fishing some weekends, coming back singing drunkenly with a chest full of fish. It makes you laugh with your whole body.

Maria and Tommy are the first to say what was already known during your first dinner together with them, “Fucking finally. You know how long this asshole was pining after you?” much to a red-faced Joel’s chagrin.

The first time Joel takes you to bed everything is slow slow slow. He wants to see your face, wants to make sure you feel good. He won’t chase his pleasure until yours has been sated first and often more than once with his tongue, his fingers, his cock. When he groans his release it rumbles through his chest and echoes through into your ribcage. It makes you feel connected, like one body, one set of lungs, one heart.

When you first walk into town with Joel’s hand wrapped around yours the people don’t seem particularly shocked. Joel and you make sense to them, so similar in your quiet intensity, your serious dispositions. But when you’re behind closed doors and secret smiles are shared between you and him, the warmth of the moment invades your heart.

It makes you whisper “I love you,” into his jaw as he sheaths himself between your legs. It makes him murmur “Fell in love the moment I saw you,” in your ear. And it makes you cry when a few years later you feel your belly swell with new life.

And when your child is born you thank the entities above for giving her Joel’s eyes.

-------------------------------------------------------------------

original answer to the ask:

I love reading requests but unfortunately I can't do them all! I kinda just write what the muses tell me to. Plus this sounds like a big, long story (which honestly sounds beautiful) but I have so many WIP's that I don't think I would get to this one. However, I might take this and adapt it into a short story for you if you want? (And if I can!)

fuckin' muses, eh?

#joel miller tlou #joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller smut #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller the last of us #joel miller fic #soft!joel miller #soft!joel #joel x reader #smut #light smut #short story #one shot

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honeylikewords · 2 years

Text

cubs. (jack russell)

halloween brings all the little monsters out. aka, jack gets baby fever.

(warnings: mentions of pregnancy, planning for children, allusions to sex, descriptions of physical intimacy and making out, and jack smelling his wife, if that counts. nothing technically fully n/s/f//w//, but a bit saucy. word count 2.4k )

Jack’s head tilts sideways before the doorbell even rings, one ear higher than the other to catch something she can’t hear. He turns in his seat on the couch, arm strewn over her shoulder, to look behind them in the direction of the front door, tilts over, kisses her temple, and pops up in the seconds before the slightly-jarring “ding” echoes through the house. He’s already at the door, bowl in hand, beaming down at the gaggle of children and chaperones by the time she’s even stirring on the couch to come to join him.

“Oh, who do we have here?,” Jack coos excitedly, scanning the miniature crowd. “Are you the little one from--”

“Stranger Things!,” yells a small child in a pink dress, blonde wig askew, tendrils of the plastic hair stuck to their face. “I’m Eleven!”

“Yes, sí, can you do the--” --Jack sticks his hand out and makes a face, and the child eagerly matches him, giving him their best furious expression and most powerful psychokinetic pose-- “Yes! That’s so good!”

He quickly glances up at the three adults standing behind and asks if there are any allergies in the group (and there are none, thank goodness) as his wife comes to stand next to him, smiling at the Eleven who is now turning their powers onto their group of friends. Gesturing for the kids to bring their bags closer, Jack begins dropping generous fistfuls of candy into eagerly opened pillowcases and treat sacks, small hands darting out to show off the newest snacks to one another.

“Hey there, Mirabel,” says Mrs. Russell, waving at a young girl in a blue skirt and white t-shirt, sporting a giant pair of glasses and a pink flower in her dense curls. The little one is wrapped up in a purple puffer jacket on this cold October evening, and while it is a truth universally acknowledged that a big coat is the bane of Halloween costumes, the effect of her adorable smile and ‘Encanto’ printed trick-or-treat bag is more than enough to convey the essence of the character. “Is Uncle Bruno with you tonight?”

The girl shyly shakes her head and wrings the handles of her bag in her fingers but is smiling widely when Jack speaks a few quick words of admiration for her costume in Spanish and passes her a scoop of candy for her bag.

“I’m Ariel!”, adds a small child in a green tube skirt with flared tulle flippers sewn on, a purple strip of cloth tied around their tummy over a slightly off-skin-tone longsleeve tee.

“And I’m Harry Potter!” A wand is brandished at Jack, who puts a hand over his chest in shock.

“I’m Batman!” The petite hero jumps into a pose to show off the padding of his armor, his light-up shoes kicking to life and casting green flashes over the porch.

Jack turns to his wife and grins, gesturing enthusiastically at the crowd of kids. “I think these are the best costumes we’ve seen all night, no?” She nods, and the kids all let out little shrieks and giggles as Jack procures a few extra pieces from the bowl and adds them to their bags.

The chaperones guide the straggling children into a chorus of “thank you”s before shuffling them down from the porch, past the jack o’lanterns, and on to the next house, as Jack and his wife remain in the doorway. She leans her head on his shoulder and listens to him sigh sweetly, his eyes tracing over the sunset-lit streets swarming with seas of children and their families, all screaming and laughing over one another, racing past on the sidewalks, weaving in and out of lawns decorated with tombstones and inflatable specters, plastic skeletons and felted spiders.

“You know, at the rate you hand it out, we’ll be out of candy before the street lights come on,” she teases, nudging his shoulder. Jack chuckles and puts a hand on the small of her back, shrugging as he steers her back towards the couch.

“It’s Halloween, bebé; do you want us to be known as the stingy old couple, or the cool couple that gives out extra candy to the little monsters? Besides, that Mirabel, oh my God--”

“Total heart-melter,” she agrees, sitting and cuddling into Jack’s side as he hooks his arm back over her shoulders and pulls her body close. “I think between her and that four-month-old dressed as Grogu, we may have seen the two cutest costumes in all of North America today.”

Jack lets out a groan at the memory of the adorable baby, who he had greeted at the door with a delighted peal of laughter, and squeezes his wife tightly in his arms, as if hugging her in the baby’s stead. The abrupt squish pushes a small squeak out of her, and Jack giggles, bumping the blunt tip of his long nose into her cheek.

“Sorry,” he murmurs. “You okay?”

His slight frame conceals a rather intense strength, something that comforts her, even if it still sneaks up on her every now and again that he is, in fact, as strong as he is; Jack’s touch is grounding and warm when so few things in the world are, and she’s glad, especially in the cold months, for the over-active heat of his body and the power of his embrace.

He traces the tips of his broad, tan fingers along the curve of her upper arm, pale nails leaving wake trails of gooseflesh and pleasant shivers. She realizes he’s waiting for a response before going any further with his affections, and she nods, cupping the square of his chin and running her thumb along his bottom lip. When his olive green eyes fix on hers, and his lips part to reveal the brightness of his smile, crooked to the left by the jut of his snaggletooth, she feels heat wash over her face and down her body, familiar and fluttering as he dips his face close and keeps her gaze.

“You know what I’m thinking?,” Jack purrs, voice dropping low and soft as he begins inching nearer. When he’s this close, his breath falls on her skin like a warm fog, sticking sweetly to her neck and cheeks, and the scent of him gets stronger.

He smells like their bed, she thinks. Cozy, fuzzy, and tinged with a modicum of not-at-all-unappealing sweat, there is also that distinct canine note that can only be detected in this kind of proximity. His arms are still wrapped around her, and one of his hands is coasting, flat-palmed, up and down the length of her side, following the curves of her ribs and belly, while the other finds itself resting on her shoulder, idly fingering an errant lock of hair. His face is so close to hers that she swears she could count each of his eyelashes, individually, and the hairs that form his growing stubble.

This Halloween, Jack has chosen to go as a vampire, which he thinks is exceedingly funny. Dark makeup rings his eyes and the grey in his hair glows almost blue in the low light of the fading day, lending him an unearthly quality that fits his costume well. The powers of the vampire, too, seem to be his: he has her under his thrall, certainly. His smile is mesmeric, and she can imagine that if a vampire were to look like him, there would be no end to the line of people willing to be bitten by that self-same smile.

“What are you thinking, Puppy?,” she asks, trying to redirect her own wandering thoughts. She scratches lightly at the underside of his chin and, on reflex, his head tilts up, eyes fluttering shut as a contented noise rumbles in the back of his throat. He’s so easy to please.

“I’m, uh--” He seems distracted by the sensation of her scratching at that Just Right spot between the back of his ear and the crook of his jaw, a distraction that only worsens when she begins scratching the hair at the nape of his neck. “I was going to say that I… I was thinking we…”

His hands lie still on her, twitching every now and then when she finds a particularly pleasing spot to scratch, and she relishes the sensation of being the one who now has her beloved under her own thrall; Jack leans his head into her touch and follows the motion of her hands, chasing her attentions. A sigh leaves his lips and he unclenches his shoulders, melting into her as she leans back against the armrest of the couch and Jack follows, laying his head on her chest.

His weight is surprisingly heavy atop her as he lays himself on her belly, slotting between her knees and positioning himself for ease of scritching. He’s not a big man, by any means, but there’s a density to him, and she’s feeling it now as he presses her into the couch with his body.

She pauses her petting briefly as she adjusts to the new position, and her hands still in his hair, which causes a growl of displeasure to part his lips. At that, she looks down at him and sees one green eye peering up at her (the other still shut and squished into her chest), and sticks her tongue out at him before continuing the strokes to his salt-and-pepper pelt.

It’s rather soothing, playing with his hair like this. There’s a therapeutic element to the combination of his body weight, intense warmth, rhythmic breathing, and the texture of his hair under her fingers, and she lets instinct carry her, as salient thought drifts away into the blissful mist of repetitive motion and familiar feelings. She traces the lines of his scalp, watching his black and grey and still, sometimes, brown hair forest up around her fingers, content to just match the tide of his breaths with her own, their ribs pressed together and expanding in synchronicity.

After a moment, Jack stirs. Turning, he cranes his face so that he can look at her squarely, and she feels the irresistible magnetism of that green gaze tugging her deeper into his spell.

“I want to try for one of our own,” he says, shattering the stillness like a foul ball through plate glass. “Tonight, if you’re ready.”

It takes her a second to blink away the haze that had settled around her head, and when she does at last manage to, she finds herself staring down into Jack’s face, taking him in with utmost fascination. If she heard him clearly, and she believes she did, he asked her--

“A baby, by the way. In case I wasn’t clear.” He flashes her a smile and a breathy laugh, and he pats her side playfully. “I’m sure you could figure that out, amorcita, but I like to be direct.”

“Oh.”

It’s all she can think to say: not because she is unhappy, or undesiring of the same things, but simply because the effect of Jack Russell, staring up at her with his big, moss-colored puppy eyes, brazenly stating that he wants to try and conceive with her, is flooring. He pushes up on his forearms, and suddenly he is above her, his face lit starkly by the shadows of the setting sun and the television, marking him out in black and white. His eyes glow, even in the darkness.

The wolf’s smile slips into his features as he stares down at her, watching her reactions with delight. He can hear her heartbeat, she knows, smells the minute shifts that not even she is aware of. He knows her, inside and out, and surely knows which way she is swayed, but he waits patiently for her to give him a sign, a command, an enthusiastic yes or a firm no. He won’t move without her urging.

She cups his face and lets out a shaky, excited breath, one that shivers in her sternum and makes Jack grin. There’s that crooked canine of his, sharply glinting in his smile, and she trembles joyfully at the sight, wondering if their child would have their father’s snaggletooth. She hopes they do.

“Tonight,” she repeats. Jack’s eyes widen.

Gently, she tugs him down and presses his pouty lips to hers, and the dam breaks. Jack lets out an inhuman groan of delight, dropping his center of gravity low to lean into the kiss, and uses his blunt incisors to pull at her bottom lip, nipping and sending the wet, lapping sounds of kissing echoing through the room. He uses one hand to hold her jaw in place, then begins trailing kisses down and around her chin, working his way to her throat.

“Look so pretty in your costume,” he rasps, voice low and clouded. “‘S hard for a man to keep his hands to himself.”

Before she can snidely remark that he, in fact, has not been keeping his hands to himself for almost the entirety of the evening, Jack sinks his teeth into her neck: not hard enough to wound her, but certainly hard enough to make her forget every other thought, her mind now focused completely on the reality that her husband is leaving marks all across her throat.

“You smell,” Jack groans, “So good. And, oh, God, when you have our cubs…”

He pushes his face into the crook of her neck and inhales, a series of Spanish and English curses flowing from his lips as they wander across her skin, and his hands begin rucking up the bottom of her blouse when--

“DING.”

Jack’s head whips up, and the two of them stare with wide eyes at one another. His face is flushed a deep umber and his lips are shiny, hair a fluffed mess, and she can only imagine she looks even more sordid and knocked askew. They exchange a communicative glance before the doorbell rings a second time and Jack, ever the gentleman, kisses her forehead, rapidly apologizing.

“We’ll get back to this, querida, I promise, I swear, I want to--”

She waves him off with a smile, and sees him bolt for the door, candy bowl in hand. He throws it open with gusto, and as she watches, she sees the transformation come over him; the brightness in his eyes, the giddiness of his smile, the sincerity of his sweetness. He’s going to make a magnificent father. And she’s going to have a very, very happy Halloween.

#werewolf by night #jack russell #jack russell x reader #wwbn #wbn #marvel #(i also see people spell his name as:)#jack russel #jack russel x reader #i cant believe it a FIC and it's a slightly RISQUE one! (this is not permission for people to send me n...s....f.......w by the way)#i just am like. in a weird state and i thought married!jack and his spouse getting to do fun halloween kissing and having baby fever would #be cute and nice ghdkhgkalhgdkhg #original #it's a little short for me (i usually like to go about 5k or more?) but this is just a Test Run #if you guys want more jack lmk and i'll hopefully be doing other jack stuff for myself so :3 anyway its 3 am now gnight

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ghouljams · 17 days

Note

If I may,

For your regency AU, does Gaz get to meet and or hold bug before they get married? When does he learn that he has a baby? Does Birdie recognize him? ((What's her moms reaction when they learn that bugs his kid))

Please and thank you! I have so many questions!

Kyle treats you like he's known you for years, he talks about you like he knows everything about you and as of yet you've had no reason to stop him. It's hard to say you recognize him or don't, you spent so much of your time with him with your face buried against his neck, with his face obscured by your cunt, or with your eyes shut tight against the pleasure he sent coursing through you. The only real remnant of the man that took your virginity nearly two years ago is your child, and it's hard to say you recognize a baby's face in Kyle's.

But he gathers you in his arms and kisses you, and it feels like something you've forgotten. His warmth beckons you home, itches at a memory that's had you with your hand between your legs more nights than you care to admit. He's determined to marry you, and though you like him more than any of the other suitors that have tried to claim the same prize you value your freedom far more. You've been wracking your brain for reasons to reject his proposal and he's countered each and every one. You're running out of options. You decide to take a page out of your friend's book; if you can't convince a man with your words, you'll do it with your actions.

"I have a child." You tell Sergeant Garrick over tea. You mother nearly spits. Sergeant Garrick only pauses, his cup raised, his lips just grazing the edge of the china. He lowers the cup back to its saucer and takes a deep steadying breath.

"What she means-" your mother starts, already trying to spin your sin to something less wonderful than it is. She's cut off quickly.

"May I meet them?" Sergeant Garrick asks, his hands folded neatly in his lap. Your mother's neck nearly breaks with how quickly she turns to look at him. You blink in surprise. He raises a brow, holds your gaze, calls your bluff. "Unless they're not here."

You settle your cup down, watch the soft sway of tea against the floral pattern. You can feel your mother staring at you, daring you to make another move that will doom you to spinster-hood. "Of course," You smile, brushing your gloved hands against the front of your dress as you stand. Sergeant Garrick stands as well, and offers his hand to guide you around the table as your mother balks. He holds your fingers tight as you lead him to meet your baby.

Despite your mother's insistence, the town's supposed value on reputation, and whatever other forces may be, you love your baby. You'd wager they're the sweetest thing that's ever graced the earth. A little angel from heaven, all smiles and coos. You push the nursery door open and hold your finger to your lips to keep the good sergeant quiet. He looks as serious as death following after you, his brows drawn together as you lift your sleeping infant from their crib.

You kiss their sweet little head, and sweep the little curls from their forehead so Kyle can get a better look at their face. He steps closer, his hand sliding around your waist to rest against your back. The movement surprises you, he must sense as much the way his thumb rub soothingly against your skirt. He raises his other hand, brushes his fingers over the baby's cheek, as gentle as a spring breeze. Something softens in his expression, and he pulls his hand from your back to reach for the baby.

"May I?" He asks, his voice low. There's no insistence to it, no malice, only a soft imploring tone that makes you shift your grip so he can take them from you. Your baby settles easily in Kyle's arms, and he's quick to tuck their swaddle more tightly around them. "Beautiful," He whispers.

You suck in a breath, unaware you'd been holding it, and reach to take them back. Something nervous and fluttery in your stomach urging you to get your baby back where you know they're safe. Kyle catches your hand and tugs you sharply, catching you against his chest. You push against him and his grip tightens around your shoulders.

"Sergeant-"

"I should have married you when I had the chance," Kyle tells you, leaving no room for discussion in his tone, "I'm not going to make that mistake again."

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plasticfangtastic · 8 months

Text

american royalty. ch. 2

A Homelander x F!reader fanfic.

a/n: will post ch. 3 this week but sadly my other fic will be posted next week, enjoy this slow burn dadlander fic, and thx u to all the readers. prev. chapter:

Sypnosis: Homelander never wanted to remember you, but after welcoming Ryan into his life, he thought of you & the lie that tore you two apart. Now... thinking back, thinking of your betrayal-- was he perhaps wrong about who the father of your unborn child was? Did you perhaps told the truth all those years ago?

Tags: mild gore, angst, lots of angst, slow burn, fluff, OC characther, child neglect, dadlander, romance.

Chapter Two

Red

It had been a very long day, business was booming nowadays and since that influencer had made a couple videos on your pizzeria, you had been more than just busy, you began to run out of ingredients.

In the last four years, the restaurant had grown, it had been there since 2002 ran by your boss’s father and his brother, who had ran their own pizza shop since the 80’s but as the economy and other events hit, they had decided to relocate and re-brand, now managed by their son– a man you owed so much, had his heart not been filled with kindness you would most likely be in the streets. So you made sure his restaurant was the best, you had accolades, you’ve worked in some of the best restaurants, you were once a very prominent fast rising figure of the New York culinary scene– until Homelander came along.

Your talent revamped the restaurant and now your food was once again on the spotlight, for the first time since you left Vought, you were happy with yourself, even if it was pizza. Cooking made you happy, and this job needed you, you didn’t live in fear of sleeping in your car anymore, you didn’t need to worry that your daughter would sleep on somebody’s couch again, you were able to quit your third job and go casual on your second thanks to this place, right now you didn’t live in the best of places but you were saving up and in a couple months you’d have enough money saved up to move, and send your daughter to a better school, somewhere were her talents wouldn’t be wasted.

So here you were ten minutes before closing, another extra couple hours of overtime for your dream two bedroom apartment, where it would be safe for her, where you could finally feel like your life had moved on from him, that the door opened up and your cashier squealed.

It was a quaint looking restaurant, the wood seating was new and the wall decor had been changed trying to look less cluttered, with Art Deco lighting fixtures as the stand out feature. The place had been remodeled recently it seems, the kitchen and its big brick oven looked clean but ancient to Homelander, he stared at the menu board and metal boxes of accouterments by the counters, taking in that this was in fact a pizza place, that you of all people did in fact work at a pizza place. You who could whip up amazing fare, now made greasy cheap slices, but he had seen people come in and leave endlessly these past few days, people taking selfies, and recording themselves with your food, nothing he understood.

He looked back at the teenager on the counter offering his signature smile as she blubbered her script, then as you took a step closer knowing you couldn’t hide in this open kitchen you finally looked at each other for the first time in seven years.

Your throat collapsed and your whole body became prickly and tight, your heart was beating so fast you thought you might be having a heart attack, you looked at the clock cursing that it wasn’t over, you were almost done packing the kitchen and readying for tomorrow, having a customer at this hour was awful but having him here was about to take you to an early grave.

“What’s your best seller?” Homelander muttered looking straight at you with an aloof stare, then back at the cashier– is pizza night at my house, sorry for coming so late hope that’s not a problem?” he said exceedingly politely.

The teenager blushed and looked back at you as if asking you to pinch her.

“That would be our pepperoni queen– is two types of cheese, extra pepperoni, with our signature house made marinara, with a dash of vodka sauce in our sourdough thin crust… chili oil is optional” You had managed to say trying to ignore those piercing blue eyes, you moved back to your place staring at the few remaining trays of dough balls left– our second best seller is our chicken florentine pie.”

Homelander admittedly detested pizza, it was greasy, gooey and heavy, it was fattening and gross, but there was a familiar aroma in the room, something that was making his mouth water lightly. Looking back at the girl, he ordered both in their smallest size offered, he sat by one of the wooden booths for the ten minutes he was told to wait, and not once did he made a comment, maybe that’s why your heart stung so much, why it felt as if you were about to collapse– that after seven years, he had completely forgotten about you, while only now did you began to feel as if you could heal from all the suffering he’d cause you, how insignificant had you been all along, how you love never registered.

You both had talked of moving in together and buying a home, he wanted to buy you a restaurant, and you wanted to give him your life, you had never loved somebody as much as he made you love him, and now you were just some bum wearing a graphic t-shirt making him dinner.

You packed his food, your boss Kaleem had given him extras on the house, practically begging for Homelander to give them a photo for their socials and you simply stare as he did his superhero thing, you took one of the delivery bags knowing he would lose the food if he flew with them in hand.

After the photoshoot, Kaleem and your cashier had run to the back to show the picture to the only other staffer left at this hour.

You both looked at each other as he took the bag off your hands, you wanted to cry, your eyes welling up but you looked down afraid of him, no doubt he could hear your heartbeat tickling his ear.

“It's been a while hasn’t it?”

You could’ve collapsed into tears right then and there, it was worse to be remembered.

Growing angry at the sound of his soft voice, and that concerned expression in his face.

“Yes…”

“How you been? Didn’t think I'd ever see you again.”

“Should’ve killed me back then… got fucking close to it tho.” You dropped all pleasantries, hearing him talk and not hearing the word sorry 5 seconds in, had infuriated you. His stupid face, those stupid eyes, and that clown suit was too much for you, maybe it was the poor diet and lack of sleep but right now you wanted to ban him from Lucci’s– hope you enjoy the food.”

You pushed the bag jumping from the kitchen to the front as you headed for the door, holding it open for him.

“I’m doing alright. Now leave!”

“You don’t even want to know why I'm here?” he was taken aback by your brashness, you had always been sweet to him, tender, barely ever angry before, so why now?

“You got a little kid now, I gather like any other kid, he likes pizza… and good for him because mine is the best!”

“Not really… I actually wanted to see you. I… I just wanted to ask you something–

“Mother!!”

Your daughter emerged from the depths of the kitchen, she carried a kindle in one hand and a giftcard in the other.

“Is it okay if I use my present now? They got some books on sale and you said not to buy more books until I finished… oh…”

In the light and in front of him, your daughter truly looked like your mirror image, copy and pasted into a miniature. Her hair just past her chin, and her bangs indeed covered her eyes, peeking behind those curtains were the prettiest blue eyes he’d ever seen, there was no unnatural shine to them– just blue. Her lips so thin and her complexion just a tad paler than your own now that he gave it a proper look, she was so small-- too small for her age.

“Is okay honey, is your birthday you can get any books you want” Your tone shifted entirely lowering yourself to take her face and plant a quick peck on her cheek– now go back with uncle Kaleem and let mommy close shop, okay? We’ll go home in a minute.”

“Is it your birthday young lady? Congratulations.”

Homelander threw his best smile, giving the kid a cautious pet, catching the rage in your eyes as his gloved fingers touched your daughter.

“Thanks. Is not a milestone birthday so it is not worthy of congratulations… seems inane to celebrate it” she looked at her mother with a jaded expression– " I'll go get my bag, have a good night, sir.”

Homelander pressed his lip as the most deadpan voice came out of this little girl. Her oversized black sweater and the black tights made her look oddly unhappy, but the kid just stared at him with boredom, no surprise or interest when she stood next to America's favorite son.

He wondered if that was an adult or a seven year old for a second.

He worried if the kid had told his mother about that other night, but looking back at you he went with 'maybe'.

“What’s your name?” he asked, still forcing a smile– "my… you seem like a smart girl getting books for your birthday.”

“Helena.”

The kid couldn’t muster the energy to give him anything but her dead ass voice, she began to walk away not caring for manners, nor Homelander.

“She’s… cute.” he said watching that tiny figure walk away and surviving after her second nsult– great pronunciation for her age, does she even know what she’s saying?”

“Helena is not like other kids.”

“How so?”

You looked at him more tired than anything, rubbing your temples as you made yourself waste spit to talk to him.

“She’s a Supe… by the time she was two she could speak in full sentences, by three she could read at a first and second grade level, and by five she was teaching herself calculus and piano… she’s a genius; I thought she was a normal genius until… her other powers manifested– none of this matters! Just go!” You shook your head in frustration.

“You gave her V?” He said while staring at Helena.

“... I didn’t know what V was until the news broke out, I thought Helena was chosen by God! That the world blessed her with those powers, but when that story came out I’ve been wanting to ask you– did you give her V? but… if you didn’t… who… are you lying to me, John?”

Homelander looked past the concrete walls looking back at that little girl, he didn’t know what to say or do, before you could utter another word he left.

Ryan nose picked the meal quickly, glad that it was friday and his dad would let him stay up ‘til late, Homelander just dropped the meal on their new table and the kid was quick on his feet, the food was still warm, only now did Homelander noticed the extras, couple of small containers holding chili oil and freshly made ranch, garlic knots and a lemon meringue pie, it was too much but Ryan hadn’t hesitated to dig in, before Homelander could ask him to wash his hands he had ripped a slice of pepperoni.

“This is so good!” He said so cheerfully– gosh I was starving, dad.”

“I sure hope so, bud… let’s leave the pie for tomorrow…” he looked grossed out, Ryan sat opening up the garlic knot’s containers– not gonna eat?”

Homelander sat down to join him, the thought of touching all those greasy surfaces was making his stomach hurl, but he relented, taking a slice.

He was young again, and you were there coming back with some drinks as he ate your chicken florentine, this was the same recipe, the chicken was so juicy and the cheese wasn’t greasy. Ryan was shocked to see his father sound so happy as he took another bite.

It was the first time they both ate together where they felt completely comfortable with each other, maybe it was seeing Ryan not pick at his food that made Homelander able to just talk, Ryan told him all about his homework, and the videogame he was playing, he really liked Fifa at the moment even if he himself cared not for the sport.

Helena watched as her mother stood silently hovering above the sink, you hadn’t moved much for a couple of minutes, your daughter more annoyed than anything else regarding this display.

“How do you know Homelander?” she asked with a yawn.

“Huh?” you woke up from your trance– you should be in bed, darling.”

“You too. So… How do you know the clown?”

“Honey, don't say that!”

“He walks around wearing a onesie all day… like a clown… like the rest of those super clowns”

Your daughter always spoke with a creepy maturity, her voice didn’t belong to a kid.

“... He used to be my boss… he was a really bad boss…”

“You used to work for Vought?” She softened her stand.

“Honey… I don’t really want to talk about this… it's late and we are going to the museum tomorrow so you should get some sleep, mommy is just tired… hope you had a good birthday.”

“You should rest too, mother.”

Your daughter's eyes glowed momentarily turning th blinkers off before she made her way to bed, you stared at her door, thinking if she could see you.

No mother should think their child was creepy, Helena was just difficult and abrasive, to be a small kid with her brain must be unbearable. You could recall the moment she asked you about V so vividly, she looked angry, but you had no honest answer to give her, you had to lie, god knows if you got the details right about how these people committed these crimes. Helena simply had no ability to relate to people, and without the funds you couldn’t help her meet her potential, not while you were both stuck living in public housing, not while scraping every penny.

Her few friends forced her to dumb down and even they found her uneasy, only the old people seemed to handle her best, she loved to listen, and her teachers always thought of her as a delight, yet she knew no other Supe beside herself, those pageants were expensive, and networking meetings were hard to get in, talent agencies were costly– having a super-abled kid and trying to make them into a Supe was locked behind a massive paywall, all you could hope was that her genius would let her enter a university early on scholarships.

There was always Godolkin, but god knows if they would let her enter at a young age.

It would be easy if her father was involved, if John was there in her life, she would have the world but he didn’t want her, he had made that clear years ago.

So why did he lie about the V?

It had been two weeks since you seen Homelander, but he saw you a lot, he'd come back and forth-- watching you and the child with ardent curiosity, seeing you made him reminisce, of those many nights and afternoons, of the way no matter how tired you were, you always made sure to look happy when he showed up, the way you looked so at peace while cooking, of the feel of your skin against his and the taste of your precious lips as you kissed him good morning.

He followed you, on your only day off as you took Helena around the city, watching you share a slice of overprice cake while taking notes, and ate cheap chinese for lunch, you waited for two hours as Helena played chess and checkers with some oldies at a chess shop, some russian man gave her lessons-- some of these people dressed nicely perhaps pros. Some won over her and some lost but the games were quick, your daughter seemed happier when she loss than when winning.

Something about that didn’t sit well with Homelander.

Somehow he found himself in your apartment, cracking open the window to sneak in while you headed back home– the tiny apartment felt more like a closet than a habitable space, the ceilign was run down, and the appliances ancient but well kept, your bedroom was simple, cooking books and boxes sat on top of your dressers, a single’s bed with plush comforters and pillows stuck against the wall, with a wardrobe in front of it, and a cheap fan tucked in the corner. He left for your daughter’s room just a few feet away divided by the bathroom were most of the clutter and laundry lived, her bedroom was just as plain, but the books didn’t seem fit for a small child, her desk tidy and organized, he picked up a notebook from the pile, seeing math equations that hurt his eyes within seconds. All her stuff were nice and new, she had a decent computer on top of her bed, an old dresser, but there was an absence of toys– compared to Ryan’s bedroom that was filled with anything he wanted and decorated expertly. A clock adorned her walls but not much else, the few things that looked messy was a tiny plastic chess set, the kind with magnets on the bottom, and some DIY stem kits.

He took to the bathroom, it was old and falling apart, mold was growing in the corner much to Homelander’s disgust, trolley held dozens of beauty stuff and shampoos and detergents, a shelf on the wall held towels and toilet rolls. Homelander looked at a sparkly hairbrush, picking a couple strands of lost hair knowing by their lengths and color that they weren’t yours, and cursing himself for doing this as he place them on small plastic bag he had hid in his glove.

#homelander #homelander fanfiction #homelander x you #homelander x reader #the boys fanfiction #personal #my fic tag #not proofread sorry #american royalty #already got 2 more chapters done for this hope yall like it #I really like slow burn stories #my natural enemy is the short story it seems #homelader x f!reader #dadlander #the boys oc

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