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#silly little dumpling
sillyamyy · 2 days
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Eric's 60th birthday party :3 @sluttery-withoutshame @ericsingerisababycat
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sluttery-withoutshame · 2 months
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Compilation of Eric getting a couch delivered mid interview.
He’s. So. Fucking. Nuts.
He’s an addiction I must actively resist.
(I’m not doing a very good job of that.)
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askblueandviolet · 15 days
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MASTER POST
Previous 💙💜
Next 💙💜
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boiledegghole · 2 years
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i made more bugsnax. i feel like we didnt get nearly enough beetles. here's chopling (dumpling beetle) and almug (almond beetle. name is almond/bug)
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erabundus · 1 year
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@necroethes &&. said... is ren ok fr
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❝ that's a RIDICULOUS question ... ... ... no.  ❞ but is he ever?
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moominsuki · 1 year
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✎ᝰ BAKUGOU KATSUKI ; — anyone would be silly not to love you, katsuki.
࿄ ! warnings — f!reader, no warnings. so fluffy it’s sickeningly sweet.
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katsuki knows that he’s a little difficult to deal with sometimes. to love is a different story altogether.
from a young age, he never really cared about what others thought about him. he wasn’t interested in friends, tolerated his family and he didn’t care for women at all. and at 16, he deemed this to be a perfect way to live.
well, now he was 22. who knew that loneliness would hit him in tumultuous spouts of self loathing and bitterness? not him, that’s for sure. he sees his friends getting into relationships and while he’s thankful that they always include him in things despite his brash attitude and sharp tongue, there’s an embittered taste on his tongue that lingers when he sees kirishima and his girlfriend.
katsuki doesn’t think he’s particularly unattractive either and women do approach him; unfortunately, they’re left sour by his mannerisms and deadpan tone of voice. at 18, he didn’t care that girls didn’t really understand him. but four years is a heck of a long time to change your view on things: things being love.
you tell him that anyone would be silly not to love him.
katsuki has known you since he was a stupid, brooding adolescent kid. he thinks it’s a blessing and a curse that you came into his life so forcefully, uprooting yourself and plopping your ass into the middle of it. he’d never tell you but sometimes when he’s on blind dates with the next girl that denki thinks is “the one,” all he can think about is you: especially when his forgettable date orders your favourite, barbecued duck noodle soup, to be exact and he remembers when you made that for him on his 18th birthday.
when you come over to his place to cook dinner and watch a film, you ask about his date and katsuki alludes to the failure of it and that she also “eats really noisily,” a pet peeve of the blond’s. you frown cutely, like you always do when he tells you about the flings that don’t go well.
“well, anyone would be silly not love you, katsuki,” you’d always say and it was routinely with the way he’d stand behind the kitchen island and you’d smile at him, eyes crinkled and shining, making a raspy breath hitch in his throat.
and when dinner was ready, you’d set out both your bowls of dumplings and duck and sometimes you’d put on a netflix show that you really like (katsuki thinks netflix sucks but for you, he’d watch paint dry); however, this time, you opt to just talking, catching up on your day and the plans for the week.
“y’know, blind dates aren’t all they’re cracked up to be anyway. statistically speaking, your soulmate is probably someone you’ve known all your life,” you say candidly, slurping noisily and katsuki watches you thoughtfully before scoffing, all bemused.
“i speak to maybe four women, including you and my ma. great odds,” and you giggle at that, making his heart jump while some soup dribbles down your chin.
“there’s someone out there for everyone, okay! and who are the other women besides me and your mom?” you raise a brow jokingly and katsuki lifts a hand to softly flick at your head.
“just coworkers. like i said, the odds ain’t great,” he grumbles and you rub at the spot on your head before resting your hand on top of his and lifting it back up to press it to your warm cheek.
“you have me! am i not enough woman for you?”
katsuki’s eyes soften and his thumb subconsciously rubs across your skin.
“plenty ‘nuff woman for me. don’t know who else could put up with me,” he says earnestly and both your eyes widen almost comically at the words that slipped out of his mouth.
he’s about to dejectedly pull his hand away when you slightly lean into his touch, “it’s like i said. anyone would be silly not to love you,” and you angle your face so your plump lips kiss into his thumb.
you decide not to comment on the reddening tips of his ears and the pink dusting across the golden specks of freckles on his cheekbones, to save him from the embarrassment.
maybe it’s the years from knowing katsuki that allows you to always say the 8 words: from seeing him transition from a brash, harsh, emotionally constipated 17 year old who was at least three inches shorter than you (he would vehemently deny the passing of time in which you would tower over him) to an almost 23 year old man, who picks you up from school most days, who’d wash your makeup off when you got too heavy handed with the liquor, who knows your order at the local chinese off by heart and who is now definitely almost a foot taller than you.
before katsuki washes up, he shyly asks you to stay the night - in his own roundabout way of being timid, which includes his heavy voice and a seldom amount of eye contact - and you normally do sometimes, with him sleeping on the couch while you take up his kingsize bed. your heart shakes a little in your chest but of course, you smile in reply and nod. you and him both know that this time, it’s different.
“we can stay in my bed… if you want,” mumbles the man gruffly and this time, you bite back a smile. dealing with katsuki meant that you didn’t like to fluster him at times where he was opening up to you, albeit in small, crumbly pieces.
you nod again and reply.
“of course.”
it’s 9:35pm on the dot when you both settle into the duvet of his huge bed and katsuki is kind of stiff, to say the least, and there’s a metaphorical wall between you two. you think he’s staring straight up to the ceiling, if his breathing pattern and the slight glow of his red eyes told you anything.
“is it okay if we cuddle?” you whisper, turning to your side to face him and you think you did something right because he breaks out of his self-doubting stupor and after a few moments, opens up his arms to your smaller body as a leg wraps around his waist and an arm drapes across his chest.
“you okay, katsuki?” you whisper again. “did i do something?” and he can hear the pout and the furrowed brow in your voice.
katsuki all but he wraps an arm around to pull you closer, “no. just go to sleep, dumbass.”
you pull yourself up and he panics a little but he can slightly make out the smug grin on playing on your lips and your bright eyes in the dark as you lean on his chest to be level with his face.
“i promise no one under the age of 45 goes to bed at half 9. you’re so lucky you have me,” and before he can ask what you mean on “having you,” you press your lips onto his and it’s ended before it even started. the taste of his mouthwash and your chapstick lingers and he’s stiff all over again.
“anyone would be silly not to love you, even if you act like an old man,” you sigh, bonking your head softly onto his and he inhales deeply, playing with the hem of his shirt draped on your body.
“don’ need anyone else to love me when i have you, right?”
he can see the smile that reaches your eyes, crinkles and all.
“you might be right about that,” you hum and katsuki leans up to nose around your jaw before locking lips with you properly.
katsuki knows that he’s a little difficult to deal with sometimes. to love is a different story altogether. but when you look at him like that: like he has the world on his fingertips, encased in ribbon and inscribed in lettering addressed just for you, he decides that he’ll never accept anything but the best.
even if he is a little bit of a grandpa. but you’d be silly not to love him.
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࿄ ! — all rights reserved © moominsuki. please do not copy, translate, repost nor recommend my work outside of tumblr. this is strictly prohibited.
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wardenparker · 8 months
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Private Dick
Tim Rockford x plus size reader Co-written with @absurdthirst
Rating: E for Explicit! 18+ Word Count: 11.8k Warnings: Plus size female reader with anxiety and internalized fatphobia/dysphoria. Tim is divorced with a shitty ex. Food/alcohol. Biting, fingering, shower sex, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, blink and you'll miss it vague reference to a pregnancy kink, brief mention of body shaming/bullying, a lot of talk about one character being vegan. SO MUCH FLUFF. Supportive love is a wonderful thing. Summary: Things are getting serious with your boyfriend, and that means that it's time for your anxiety to come out to play. But if there's one amazing thing about Tim, it's how much he cares. Notes: We just really needed some supportive fluff and hot smut this week, guys. I don't know what else to say ❤💛🧡
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“So uh, there’s gonna be a get together at my mom’s house this weekend.” Tim fastens his watch and looks around for the toothpick that he had set down. He swears he has to lay off the pepper beef, the shit always gets trapped in his teeth, but every time they order from Happy Dumplings for the office, he gets the same thing. Standing up, he slides his boxers back up over his hips and looks over his shoulder. “I might have told her that I would bring you.”
"You told your mom about me?" You were halfway out of his bed and hunting around the floor of his bedroom for your panties when he said it and your head snaps up to look at him. God, the man really has a fantastic little ass.
“Well…yeah.” Tim frowns as he reaches for his pants. “She tried to set me up with some chick from her church, says I need a good woman to take care of me.” He snorts, remembering how his ex-wife used to say she would take care of him until the late nights and crushing pressure of the job had sent her into Tommy Litchfield’s bed. The divorce hadn’t been pretty and he had seen the kids four weeks out of the year. “Figured we had been…. seeing each other long enough, so I told her.”
It's been almost seven months since you and Tim started seeing each other, as he puts it, and you know the time right down to the day. Six months, three weeks, and one day. That was the best accidental first date of your life, and even though his job is demanding, you don't mind. You have hobbies and friends - your family and your own job - all to deal with. Time with him has been the icing on the proverbial cake. Hell, the first time he called you his girlfriend was barely a month ago and you had nearly giggled yourself silly, still in that first blush of happiness in your relationship. "So...what kind of get together is this?" Your panties had gotten hooked on his bedpost and you delicately pull them down with a smothered snort. "Should I be dressing up or are jeans okay?"
“Backyard party.” He tells you. “My brother-in-law pretends he can grill worth a shit, while he gets drunk off his ass.” Tim chuckles. “We eat burnt hamburgers that a dog wouldn’t touch while the kids play in the pool. Or just lounge around it and bitch now that they are older.”
"The kids...as in...your kids?" You know the rundown - the divorce, the custody negotiations, all the bullshit that he went through ten years ago. His ex-wife had been awarded primary custody of his then ten-year-old twins and she had barely allowed him to see them each year since. In fact, he had gotten to see his niece and nephew a hell of a lot more, and as such he has a pretty good relationship with them as adults.
“Yeah.” He shrugs into his shirt and starts to button it up. He has to go back to the office to go through witness statements. Barely getting enough time for lunch and a quickie, he hopes that you aren’t tired of him yet. “They are home for the weekend from college.”
"Okay." Your agreement is instant, although it's muffled somewhere inside your dress as you pull it back over your head. Both of your lunch breaks are almost over and you both have to get back to your offices. "Yeah. Count me in. Absolutely." Well...this is gonna be all you think about until the weekend...
“Good.” He flashes you a grin when your head pops through your dress and he reaches for the gun that’s on the nightstand to loop back through his belt. “Make sure you bring your bathing suit.”
"I don't—" Oh god...that's right...he mentioned a pool. A quiet panic wraps itself around your heart and squeezes your chest, and you duck down to find your shoes so he won't see it in your eyes. "Uh—right. Bathing suit. Got it." You'll just have to pretend you forgot when the day comes, that's all. No harm there. Just silly and forgetful old you.
“Fuck, we need a longer lunch break.” Tim grumbles, stepping over to zip up your dress and he kisses the back of your neck. “Want me to come over tonight if it’s not too late?”
"I always want you to come over," you admit softly. He really does have that effect on you - always reducing you to a puddle of a grown-ass-woman when he's sweet and affectionate like this. "Baked pasta for dinner? I can warm you up a plate if it's late when you get out." There are strains of real domesticity in your relationship and you like that it's stayed functional. You're separate people with separate lives, but they're starting to fuse together in little ways.
“I love your pasta.” He admits, reminding himself that you are far too good for him and despite the fact that he was often beaten up by his workload and the grim reality he deals with on a daily basis, you are becoming a safe haven for him. “But if it’s too late, I just want to slip into bed with you.” He admits. “Wrapping my arms around you and falling asleep.”
"Here..." Your purse is sitting on his bureau against the wall by the door, and you pad over to it to pull out your keys. It's a great big, giant gesture to make, but you unclip your house key from the ring and cross the room again to hold it out to him. "I think we're both adult enough to make this step, don't you?" There's a spare key in a little ceramic rock positioned specifically in your front garden that will make its way onto your key ring when you get home, but you want to make this step. You want to show Tim that you're serious about him – especially if he wants you to meet his family this weekend.
He frowns at the key as he looks down at it, noticing the logo of the manufacturer. “I’m going to change your locks this weekend too.” He decides with a grunt. “These locks are shit.”
Even as you’re rolling your eyes, you can’t help but smile. His way of showing affection isn’t always obvious, but you’ve learned to see the signs. “Just take the key, baby. Accept the gesture and take the key.”
“Here.” He digs into his pocket for his own key ring. There’s already a spare on his other key ring, so he quickly works the key off and hands it to you. “You know, for when you plan to meet me and maybe you need to pee. Or you want to come over and jump me in the middle of the night.” He jokes with a small wink.
“So…for all the time?” It’s less sexy and more awkwardly charming when you throw a wink back at him, and you reach up to give him a kiss. “Come on, sexy. We have jobs to get back to.”
He chuckles and pats your ass he you turn around. “I’ll give you a call, m’kay babe? Let you know about what time I’ll be over.”
"Sounds good." As much as Tim always insists he likes your ass, you always have to bite back a small frown when he pats it - there's just too much of it. Too much of you in general. Nope...don't go down that road right now...just check your reflection in the mirror to make sure your hair is okay and reapply your lipstick before you get back to the office. You'll be fine. "See you tonight, baby."
“Wouldn’t miss it.” He promises, watching you walk towards your car with a small grin on his face. While he had made mistakes, been married to his job for too many years, he was trying to do right by you. Wanting this new relationship to work. He’s crazy about you and he can’t wait for you to meet his family.
******
It's four excruciating days of worry until the day of the get-together at Tim's mother's house is finally here. He came over late last night after an interrogation and climbed into your bed to wrap himself around you and fuck both of you into exhaustion. To that end, he is still asleep upstairs while you putter in the kitchen. Coffee made, a pan of apple cobbler in the oven and whipped cream made from coconut cream because he had told you months ago that one of his daughters is vegan. There's a great big container of cold peanut noodles with all kinds of veggies in your fridge, too. All that nervous energy you have has gone into cooking, and you frown behind your coffee cup when you remind yourself that habits like this are why you hate looking at yourself in the mirror.
Tim has gotten used to waking up in your bed, probably far faster than he should have, but there is a connection with you that he hasn't felt in a long time. So it doesn't take long for his hand to seek out your soft, warm skin in his sleep. He had pulled your nightgown off of you and tossed it on the floor, both of you staying naked after he had fucked you. His frown precedes his eyes opening when he finds nothing but the cool spot on the bed where you should have been. Where did you go?
Heavy footsteps on the stairs are your giveaway, and you pour a cup of black coffee for Tim after turning down the volume on your music yet again. “Morning, handsome.”
"Why didn't you wake me?" He squints at the bright light, your curtains and blinds already opened. He could kiss you when you offer the coffee and he does, reaching for you to pull you close for a quick kiss to thank you.
“It was early.” Even though you shrug apologetically, the kiss is welcome and so is the place in his arms. “And you work hard, so you deserve the sleep.”
He hums and rubs your back softly. "Would rather spend time with you." He kisses your forehead and then pulls back, taking a sip of his coffee. "It smells good in here." Standing in your kitchen in his boxers should look odd, but it feels normal. He's been here enough that he knows the layout pretty well.
“I made my apple cobbler that you like…” you admit with a sheepish shrug of your shoulders. “But I made it vegan so your daughter can have some. And…my peanut noodle recipe is vegan anyway, so that’s in the fridge.” He had insisted that you didn’t need to make anything to bring to his mother’s house today but here you are, cooking up a storm.
It takes a moment for that to register and then he's sighing softly. "You are too good, you know that?" He asks, setting the coffee cup down again so he can pull you in for another kiss. "I – you are amazing and thoughtful." He knows he wouldn't have even thought about making something for Zara. Not because he's neglectful, but because he wouldn't even know where to begin making something vegan. "Everyone is going to love you."
“I hope so.” You’re not naive enough to think that his grown kids will automatically love their father’s girlfriend for any reason, and you’ve got just enough in the way of self-esteem issues to be worried. But you fully intend to make the best impression possible today.
"Do you want to shower?" He asks, smirking slightly. "I brought my overnight bag." He routinely keeps a bag in the trunk of his car in case of overnight cases and needing a change of clothes. "We can swing by my apartment to change into something more casual on the way."
"I keep telling you to put clothes in that overnight bag." The offer of a shower is tempting, though, and you glance at the timer on the oven. "The pan comes out of the oven in two minutes. Then I'm all yours."
"I do have clothes in the bag." He grumbles at you. "Work clothes." He watches as you move gracefully around your kitchen, admiring the way you work so efficiently. There's a small smile on your lips that he's pretty damn sure you aren't even aware that you have, but it makes you look even sexier in his eyes.
"Then we'll stop at your apartment on the way." His divide between work clothes and civilian clothes is stark, and you don't begrudge him that for one second. You certainly have two sections of your closet, and hardly ever wear work clothes on the weekends.
The timer goes off and he smiles, sipping his coffee as you rush over to pull the pan out. "Now it's my time." He growls playfully, setting down the cup and moving behind you as you set it down on the oven mitt.
Even as he hauls you backward you have the urge to remind him not to try to pick you up. Thick thighs and too much tummy and saggy arms that you hate are too much for his perpetually bad back and knees after decades on the force. "Come on, handsome," you laugh softly when he presses a kiss to the juncture of your neck and shoulder. "Let's go take that shower."
The softness of your ass against his groin makes his cock start to harden. Making him groan as he pushes it into you with a suggestive thrust. "Mhmmmm, we could get dirty first." He chuckles and nips at your pulse. "Or would you rather I fuck you in the shower?"
"I thought that's what showers are for?" Your shower, anyway. The cramped space in his apartment is no good for anything but being functional. Your house, however, has a large shower stall with excellent water pressure and a separate overlarge tub in the master bath. It had been half the reason for buying the house in the first place.
"That's what should happen in every shower we take." He groans, smirking into your skin before he pulls away to take your hand. "What do you think, baby?"
"I think you're a menace," you tease, lacing your fingers through his. "And I am absolutely here for it."
He laughs as he walks a step behind you up the stairs, still holding onto your hand and cannot resist slapping your ass with his other when you move up an extra step and it's in his face. "Fuck, I love your ass." He grunts.
Too big, your dysphoria supplies immediately, and you're glad he can't see your face as you climb the stairs together. You've never been skinny but it seems like since you got past your thirtieth birthday, everything got a little bigger out of protest. Everything except your tits. "I'm glad you like it," you manage, hoping you sound bright and teasing.
"Next time I have you on your stomach, I'm going to bite it." He threatens playfully, slapping it again right as you reach the top of the stairs. His cock twitches at the thought and he’s halfway toying with the idea of seeing if you would let him fuck your ass. It's not been talked about, and he's not just going to ask.
"Wouldn't be the first time you left teeth marks in me." That actually makes you laugh, remembering the first time your best friend had noticed the imprint of Tim's pearly whites when you had gone to her house after leaving his place. It was how she found out you were seeing someone, and you hadn't lived it down for weeks.
His growl catches in his throat and his hand tugs you back, spinning you around and pressing you up against the wall so he can kiss you again. This thing with you has progressed to the point where those three little words dance in his head when he is thinking of you. Still not quite voiced, they are there. Making him crave you even more when he has you nearby and he transfers that into the pressing of your lips together.
It's a sigh and a muffled groan from you, and your arms come up around his neck easily to encourage him to take whatever he wants. He's fucking irresistible and while you still can't quite grasp why he seems to want you, you're not going to question it and ruin the best adult relationship you've ever had. You're almost grateful to the idiot that broke into your office building and caused all of you to have to make statements to the police.
You had seemed to think that you needed to wear fancy lingerie when he first started sleeping with you, but the loose nightgowns you wear now are just as sexy and far easier to access. Thankful that you had taken his word and started wearing them to bed at night. His hands plunging underneath so he can cup your tit, his other hand twisting to slide into your panties as he groans into your mouth.
Tim's fingers are thick and nimble, and you never would have thought gun callouses could be sexy until you felt them slide through your pussy the first time. The hand fully encompassing one of your tits squeezes in earnest and you groan, hips already rocking against his other hand. "Fuck, Tim."
“That’s it, baby.” He grunts, kissing down your jaw and biting your ear. “Fucking love how wet you get. Pussy is gushing for me.”
Broad shoulders, broad chest, thick fingers, quick tongue, a smile that can leave you in a daze. How would you not be absolutely gushing for him? "Always," you sigh out, breath catching when he curls his fingers against your g-spot expertly. "Need you so bad, baby."
“Just what I want to hear.” His cock pulses against your soft belly and he wants nothing more than to lift you up and fuck you against this wall. Except you would squawk the entire time to put you down. Instead, he pumps his fingers diligently, eager to make you cum so he can fuck you in the shower.
The press of those thick digits inside of you has you gasping and clinging to him as he thrusts two fingers inside of you, adding a third to make you squeal and shake even harder. His eagerness makes perfect sense considering you weren't in bed beside him when he woke up, and you let your forehead drop forward to his bicep as you ride his fingers closer and closer to cumming right there in the hallway of your little house.
“You gonna cum for me baby?” He asks, always loving when you come apart for him. It’s a gorgeous sight. “Gonna soak my fingers? Squeeze them tight?”
"I—fuck—" Three fingers in your cunt and his thumb against your clit is too much all at once in the best way possible, and you're nodding against his arms as that tingling feeling at the base of your spine explodes and you start to shake apart. For a man who claims not to have dated a lot and have been rusty on intimacy when you had first gotten together, he never lost that muscle memory of how to be an amazing lover.
“So fuckin’ pretty when you cum.” He coos in your ear, feeling your cunt sucking his fingers in deep and starting to squeeze them. “Cum for me baby.”
Your fingernails bite into his arms as you grasp him tightly, entire body tensing completely before falling apart completely – flooding his hand with cum and slumping backward against the wall so you aren't too heavy on his arm. "Goddamn, baby..." you pant with a small giggle when you can breathe again, the orgasm exploding like shooting stars behind your still closed eyes.
“Fuck, I need to be inside you.” He feels the slick coating his fingers and wants to sink inside your quivering cunt. “Shower?”
“Shower.” It doesn’t matter that your legs are jelly, you can make it ten more feet into the bathroom. Your nightgown is pulled off of you before you hit the door, and his own boxers pushed down and kicked off. Leaving you in your panties as he opens the glass door to turn the shower on.
“Just what I needed today.” You’re only half teasing as you strip off your panties and toss them in the nearby laundry basket. “To be freshly fucked when I meet your family.”
He grunts, crowding you into the shower when you climb in and turning you around to face the wall. “You want to talk to my mama with a load of my cum in your pussy?” He grins, biting your neck again. “I can make that happen.”
“You can’t just say shit like that to me.” It earns him another moan and you back your ass up against his hips eagerly. “It’s gonna be all I can think about all day.”
“Good.” He chuckles roughly as his hands grip your hips and he presses closer. His cock folding up against his body and pressing into the cleft of your ass insistently. “It’s gonna be all I think about too. Imagining you dripping. Licking you clean.”
“Gonna have to slip away to your old room to get handsy.” You tease, knowing that his mother still lives in the house he grew up in.
“Fucked my first girl in that bed.” He grunts, silently acknowledging that it would be fitting that he fucks his last girl there too.
“Gonna make me another notch on that bedpost, Rockford?” You grin over your shoulder at him as his hands knead your ass. “I bet it was some homecoming queen. Or cheerleader. Do baseball games have cheerleaders?”
“Sometimes.” He smirks and shakes his head. Aware that you have some notion that he was some kind of stud when he was younger. “But maybe that new notch will be fun.” He poses as he rocks his hips back to take his cock in his hand.
"Getting you all riled up until you fuck me is always fun." All of Tim is thick. From his muscled limbs and shoulders that test the limits of store-bought shirts, all the way to his cock. The feeling of his head pushing your pussy open makes you moan, and you brace yourself against the wall of the shower for him to take as much as he wants from you. There's a certain amount of bliss involved in being intimate with Tim and you can usually push away your insecurities in favour of seeing - and feeling - just how much he enjoys touching you. Right now, the thoughts drop away and the only thing left is yes and more and oh god.
“Fuuuuuuuuuck.” He groans as he splits you in two. “I fucking love this pussy.” His breath is heavy in your ear and he rolls his hips until he is buried deep. “Perfect, baby, you’re fucking perfect.”
Perfect. Nobody had ever called you that before, and you had instinctively laughed the first time Tim had used the word. Since then you've tried to be a little kinder with yourself, and accept that just because you don't think you're perfect doesn't mean that he can't think so. "Just for you," you groan happily, reaching back to squeeze his hip. "Only for you, baby."
His lips trail over your skin and he can’t help but continue to kiss you. Loving how you clutch him deep inside your body and the softness of you against him. Reaching for your hands, he laces his fingers with yours and lays them against the wall, sliding his feet closer.
The cold tile against your front and Tim's hot skin at your back is an intense combination that you love – an extra reason to moan with every thrust. His body seems to cover every inch of you, enveloping you in his presence, and it's almost hard to move except to grind back against him every time he fills you up. It's a gorgeous feeling that you so easily get lost in.
“Fuck, how does it get better?” He pants into your ear. “Every fucking time, you feel even better. Addicted to you.”
"Perfect." He is the perfect one, and you won't hear anything to the contrary, panting out words with every slap of his hips against your ass. "Perfect cock. Perfect fuck. Perfect man. I—" For a moment, in your rapture, the words almost slip. Thank god you manage to swallow them quickly. "So good, baby."
“I know you’re gonna cum for me again, aren’t you?” He asks, rocking his hips forward to slap against your ass as he picks up his pace.
“Just like that.” You know it won’t take long now, not if he goes just a tiny bit harder like he does when he gets close, and the begging in your voice always gets him, too. Every time. “So fucking perfect, baby. Please let me cum fo—oh fuck— so close!”
Tim hisses, squeezing your hands as he rocks up into the balls of his feet. Thrusting harder into you. “Yessss, fuck, cum for me baby.”
Bearing down on his length this time, you can practically feel his pulse through the prominent veins of his cock as they scrub against your walls. The pressure is just as perfect as the rest of him and before you know it there are stars erupting behind your eyes.
Tim groans your name when he feels you start to cum. Loving how you whine and whimper as he works you through it. Sex with you has been amazing and he hadn’t been lying when he said it just kept getting better. When that final thrust comes and you are pressed tight between Tim and the tile, the feeling of his pulsing cock filling you full of sticky cum scratches that very private, very secret dream you have of one day actually having a family with this man, and you shiver a little with personal satisfaction when he groans your name into your skin one last time.
“God.” He pants, knowing that while he’s fucking you isn’t the right time to say those words for the first time. “So good baby.”
Laughing under your breath, you groan happily and let your weight go against the wall just to feel him slump against you. “Hell of a way to start the day,” you tease.
“Should start the day this way every morning.” He laughs along with you. “Don’t you think so?”
“Why do you think I gave you a key?” Twisting around just enough to kiss him, you hum against his lips and sigh happily.
He snorts and kisses you again. “So I should just swing into the house every morning as I go into work?” He asks playfully.
The impulse is there. The invitation right on the tip of your tongue. But it’s too soon. Way too soon. He doesn’t even know how you really feel about him yet — so telling him he could just give up his tiny bachelor pad and move in with you would probably send him running for the hills. “So you can stay over whenever you want,” is how you phrase it instead, hoping that that doesn’t sound overbearing or overeager.
“Don’t tell me that.” He warns you. “Your bed is softer than mine and it has the added bonus of having you in it. You’ll get tired of me.”
“No, I won’t.” The answer is too quick. You know that, but you can’t help it. Slowly turning around, the unfortunate side effect of losing his warmth as his quickly softening cock slips out of you is replaced by the benefit of getting to look him in the eyes. “I—I won’t get sick of you, baby.”
He nudges his nose against yours gently and sighs softly. “I hoped that I would make it a little more romantic than this.” He grumbles quietly,
“A little more romantic than being snuggly after sex?” You ask incredulously. Sure you’re not wrapped up in the blankets right now, but it’s still the same feeling.
“Something more romantic than shower sex to tell you that I love you.” Tim tells you quietly. “I’m not good with words or romance.”
When you deflate in front of him it’s out of pure shock, but you push off from the wall instantly to drag him down for a kiss. “I love you, too,” you promise him in that same hushed voice. “I have for—for months.” Since the night that he braved taking you to an Indian restaurant and got through an entire dinner before you found yourselves in the middle of a music festival in the park and he tried to sneak grabbing a hot dog because he didn’t want to admit to you that he didn’t like the restaurant you said you love. “I love you so much.”
He sighs in relief, pressing his forehead against yours and chuckling with joy. “Good. I was afraid I was rushing things. Or reading too much into the amazing sex we have.”
“I don’t think seven months before the first mention of love is anybody’s definition of rushing, baby.” Placing a kiss over his heart, you can’t help the way you grin from ear to ear when you look up at him. “But you’re right about the sex being really fucking good.”
“Yes, it is.” He agrees with a roguish wink. “Now we just need to clean up.” The functional portion of the shower never takes long. You’re both well established in your habits and are clean again in under ten minutes, leaving you to towel off on the bathroom rug together in no time. “So I was thinking that after my mom’s, I could stay tonight?” He asks, keeping his tone casual. “Since I’ll be dropping you off and I have a full weekend off for once?”
“I’m gonna call up your captain and tell him I have you handcuffed to my bed,” you joke, careful to keep yourself covered even while you’re drying off from the shower. It's a habit, and even if he’s just been inside you that’s no reason to force him to look at your whole blob-like body. “He can’t have you back until Monday. Girlfriend’s orders.”
“Careful now.” He warns with a grin. “I might like be handcuffed to your bed.” He’s never really thought about using his handcuffs, despite the ribald jokes from other detectives, but if you wanted to, he would let you. He trusts you.
“You? Give up control?” Raising one eyebrow at him in the mirror, you scoff playfully. “I’ll believe that when I see it.”
“I thought you like when I’m in control?” He asks with a smirk. “But for you? I’d do it.”
“The perfume I wear is literally called ‘Good Girl’,” you laugh, motioning to the stiletto-shaped bottle on your bathroom shelf. “Of course I like it when you’re in charge.”
“That’s the stuff I like?” He asks, intrigued by the name. He never knows that kind of stuff, just that you smell amazing and he always wants to rip your clothes off when he smells it.
“Yup. The little bottle shaped like a high heel.” It’s your treat to yourself. Designer perfume makes you feel a little less like a fat girl playing dress up when you get ready to see Tim or go out with friends, and a little bit more like a full-grown woman. It’s silly, but if that’s what does it, then you can’t be too mad about it.
“I will have to buy you another bottle of that when you get low.” He hums, making a mental note of it. “It smells incredible on you.”
You won’t quibble with him now over the fact that it’s pricey or anything like that. It’s the gesture that counts, and the fact that you’re getting a little bit closer each and every day. “I don’t know how well it goes with chlorine.” With one little joke, you seize the chance in front of you. “Maybe I’ll abstain from swimming today.” No swimming means no swimsuit, which means no having to be partially undressed in front of his family.
Tim sends you a pout. “Nooo, I’m looking forward to getting into the pool with you.” He huffs, eager to see you in your bathing suit and watch you bask in the sun.
“It’s okay,” you insist, trying to play it off like it doesn’t matter at all. “Maybe next time.”
Tim frowns slightly when he realizes that you are serious and you will not be getting into the pool. “Yeah sure.” He nods. “Next time.” He agrees before he moves over to the sink to brush his teeth and shave.
“Okay.” He’s upset. He’s upset with you, and your mind goes straight to the worst possible scenario which is obviously that he’s going to break up with you over it. A lifetime of trying to deal with low self-esteem and self-worth issues but still you go straight to the worst-case scenario sometimes. “Gonna go get dressed,” you mumble quickly, retreating from the room still wrapped entirely in towels, as fast as your feet will carry you.
Tim sighs, wondering where he went wrong this morning. It had been going so well but Trina had continuously accused him of putting his foot in his mouth or being insensitive. He had been trying so hard with you and yet he can tell you’re upset. He looks in the mirror and shakes his head. “Don’t fuck this up.” He orders himself with a groan.
The warm Southern climate means swimming happens all the time, but it’s still October so you put on a light cardigan with your sundress and sandals and try to keep yourself from crying and making your eyes red before you leave the house. The last thing you need is to show up to meet his kids and his mother with bloodshot eyes. “Don’t fuck this up,” you chastise yourself, opening the dresser drawer that holds your one swimsuit just to stare at it for a minute in loathing.
“Baby?” Tim had retreated downstairs once he had dressed, sure that you needed some time to yourself. “Are you ready?” Are you still coming?
“Yeah! One second!” Out of some kind of masochistic instinct, you grab your bathing suit and cram it into your tote bag when you snag it off your dresser and rush downstairs. Clothes, jewelry, make up, all of it is in place to try to make the most positive first impression possible. “Sorry, I—” You immediately focus on getting the food packed up into a reusable shopping bag. “I almost forgot to put on perfume. Stupid, right? After we just were talking about it?”
“That’s okay.” Tim approaches you slowly from behind and he gently takes hold of your waist. “You still smell great even without it.” He promises, leaning in and kissing your shoulder. Offering a silent apology.
“Do I look okay?” It’s silly to be worried. You’re a grown woman and he’s a grown man. But you’re terrified and determined not to fuck up again today.
“You look stunning.” He promises you. “If I hadn’t promised my mother that we would be there, I would keep you here and take you back upstairs to show you how pretty you look.”
“Okay.” Nodding twice, your head hangs between your shoulders for a second before you force yourself to straighten up and take the bag full of food from the counter. “Ready when you are.”
“Are you sure you want to go?” He asks, concerned that he is pushing too fast. It seems like you’re forcing yourself to go.
“Of course I’m sure.” The brightness in your voice isn’t entirely forced. You do want to go, you’re just terrified and self-conscious. And from the look on his face, he knows something is wrong. “I’m just—” Your eyes drop and so do your shoulders. “I’m worried what they’ll think of me, that’s all.”
“Baby.” He shakes his head and sighs softly, happy that he can reassure you. “They are going to love you.” He promises. “Probably love you more than me.”
“They loved Trina.” You’ve seen plenty of his pictures of his ex-wife. Their wedding pictures, especially, and even how skinny she managed to get back to being after having their twins. She’s stunning, and successful, and smart. And you’re a dumpy little nobody who sits behind a desk and definitely never goes to the gym. “I’m not like her. At all.”
“That’s a good thing.” He promises, chuckling at how ridiculous it would be to date someone like his ex.
You let out a half-laugh, huffing at yourself, and shake your head slightly. It sounds so stupid to say it out loud, but here you are in the middle of your kitchen about to break apart at the seams over a first meeting. “She—she’s prettier than me.” In every sense, in your opinion. But especially, she’s skinnier.
Tim frowns and vehemently shakes his head. “That is not true.” He argues. “And it doesn’t matter how pretty she is, she is my ex-wife.” He reminds you. “She left me. Took my kids from me.”
“Right.” Blinking back the impending tears that will ruin your makeup and the mood, you nod your head and take a steadying, if shaky, breath. “Right. I know that. I’m sorry. I’m just—I’m being stupid.”
“You aren’t being stupid.” He huffs, hating how you belittle yourself. You are kind and generous to everyone but yourself. “It is just nerves, right? This is a big step and I’m sure I’ll be shitting myself when I meet your folks.”
“It’s nerves.” You agree, nodding again and resisting the urge to press on your closed eyes to stop the water behind them. It would smudge the eye makeup you put on so carefully. All waterproof, ironically. But not touched-with-hands proof. “I just don’t—” It is stupid, and a part of you knows that. The part that pays fucking attention in therapy every other week. “I don’t want you to finally realize you’ve been dating a cow if I put on my swimsuit,” you admit quietly.
“A cow?” He growls the comment in surprise, rearing back and wondering where the hell that idea came from. “Who the fuck called you a cow?” He demands, furious and ready to punch someone if they’ve insulted you like that.
“Nobody had to.” Your sister. Your grade school bully. The woman at the department store. A girl at camp. A boy you had a crush on in high school. Your parents. Nobody. Everybody. “I’m just a little anxious. It’s fine. I just won’t have any caffeine the rest of the day and it won’t get worse. Please don’t be upset?”
Tim shakes his head and he reaches up to cup your cheeks. “Baby, put your bag down.” He orders you softly. He doesn’t want to leave this house until he’s truly talked to you, and if that means being late, then he will be late. “Please?”
It only takes a moment of silence between you before you swallow your protest and set your purse and the bag of food back on the counter. This is it. He’s going to dump you for being an idiot. At least you got to tell him you love him before that happened, right?
He guides you over to the chair and sits you down, kneeling in front of it and holding onto your hands. “Baby, I don’t know why you are so hard on yourself.” He starts softly. “But I want you to know how I see you.” He knows self-image is just that, your image of your own self, he can’t change your mind for you. “I see you right now, and you are gorgeous.” He nods, smiling as he looks at you. “Generous, pillowy curves that make my mouth water and my cock ache.” Licking his lips, he continues. “I love the way you feel, the way you taste. I love your heart, your kindness. Your thoughtfulness. Your patience.” He stresses. “You are beautiful, inside and out and I wish you could see yourself the way I see you. You say cow, I say stunning, voluptuous goddess that I love.”
“I know that the voice in my head that says these things is intentionally hurting me.” Holding onto his hands like a lifeline, you end up squeezing his fingers in yours. “I’ve been in therapy for enough years to know that. It’s a skewed perspective. But there really are sometimes that I cannot shut it off. It’s like a train going off the tracks,” you explain, hoping he can follow the line of what you’re saying. “I can see the disaster ten feet ahead of me, but it’s too late to stop it. I know I’m going to go headfirst into the worst kind of hating myself, but I can’t stop it from happening.”
“I know what you mean.” He does. He’s seen the department shrink enough times to understand that. It’s like when he blames himself for circumstances beyond his control. “I’m never going to tell you that you are stupid, or dumb for thinking that way.” He promises you. “But I am going to disagree with you, tell you that you are wrong. Because there isn’t one thing about you that I would change.”
"Really?" There's a second where you're too afraid to look up at him, but you can feel Tim's eyes on you and so you raise your head in some kind of silent moment of obedience and it makes you decide to crack a smile and go for a joke. "Not even my broken brain?"
“Not even that.” He smiles at you. “Because I love you, all of you. The good and the negative.” He squeezes your hands gently, “Love you, baby.”
"I love you, too." You lean over to kiss him, half in disbelief that he didn't ask for his key back and walk out your door. "Thank you. For...for listening. And not thinking I'm crazy for overreacting."
He chuckles and leans down to kiss your hand. “Baby, I think you are crazy for putting up with me, not for how you feel.”
"You're amazing, and it's never putting up with you. I love spending time with you." The sigh that comes out of you is deep and long, but you feel better. The weight on your shoulders has lifted, if only for now, and you manage an honest smile. "We should get going, baby. You don't get to see the twins that often and I don't want you to miss a minute of it today."
“Okay.” He waits another moment, searching your eyes and then he pats your thigh gently. “Let’s go. I can quickly change.”
It's a fast enough trip to stop by his apartment on your way to his mother's house, and once he's swapped his work clothes for a pair of shorts and a t-shirt, he slides back into the car beside you and you're off to the races again. At this rate you'll be no more than five minutes late, and that is nothing at all.
Driving the familiar route home, he points out places he used to go as a child and then a teenager. Sharing glimpses into his life. Holding his hand in yours as he pulls up to the two-story house that he had been raised in. “I'm right here with you.” He promises, kissing your hand again. “And they will love you.”
"As long as you love me, I'm okay." That's the pep talk you were giving yourself on the way over, and you're feeling a little more settled after the glimpses into his past. You didn't grow up around here so you can't do any such tour for yourself, but it's nice to see a slightly different side of the town you've lived in for years.
“Are you ready?” He asks after he cuts the engine, turning towards you slightly. “Or do you need a minute?”
"Let's do it." If you sit in the car and procrastinate you'll only give the negative thoughts time to come back, so you lean over to kiss him and buck yourself up. "I'm good, baby. I promise."
“You are always good.” He tells you with a wink before he climbs out of the car and hustles around to open your door for you. Taking the dishes you had protected on the way over so you can get out.
There is plenty of noise coming from the backyard of the beautiful little brick house, and the sound of splashing is already obvious along with music playing and people chatting at various volumes. This is definitely a family party, and it seems like the family is already here.
"Uncle Tim!" The call comes up from the pool first, as his nephew catches sight of him first and waves. "Holy shit! Y'all, Uncle Tim actually left his desk!" The teenager teases with a cackling laugh.
“Yeah, yeah.” Tim rolls his eyes in good fun as he waves back. His hand immediately goes back to the small of your back and he slowly guides you forward. “Come on baby, we’ll put up the food inside and then come back out.”
"Holy shit Uncle Tim brought a girl!" A teenage girl's voice calls after you, with as much excitement as shock, and you're in the middle of a fit of giggles when he opens the sliding door to let you into the kitchen from the back porch. "So that's your nephew and niece, huh?" You snort, smothering the sound with one hand even as you try to stop laughing.
“Brats.” He huffs, his sour look simply for show. “You would think I was a ball-less hermit.” He snorts, setting the travel bag for your dishes down and then opens the fridge to see if there’s room.
"Language." His mother's warning tone is playful from around the corner, but she still means it. Foul language stays outside, it doesn't come inside her house. "Timothy Alan, don't make me send you outside if you're going to be vulgar."
“Me?” He points at himself as he exclaims. “They are being vulgar. And I’m the one in trouble?” His question doesn’t stop him from immediately moving around the corner to engulf his mother in a hug. “Hey Ma.” He kisses her cheek and urges her to come into the kitchen. “I brought my girlfriend.”
"They're outside and I can't hear it," his mother teases, blissfully aware of her arbitrary rules and the fact that nobody is actually in any trouble whatsoever. "Honey." She reaches out both hands to you after giving Tim a hug. "He's been hiding you from me knowing I'm gonna steal you away to have a cooking friend again. It is so good to meet you, sweetheart."
"It's really nice to meet you too, Mrs. Rockford." Even as she envelopes you in the same tight hug that Tim got, you look over her shoulder to shoot Tim a surprised expression.
Suzanne Rockford is far from a petite woman. She is sturdy, hearty. Obviously heavier and he has never told you that, honestly believing that it didn’t matter, but now he wonders if he should have. Maybe you would have been less self-conscious if you had known. He shoots you a smile and a half shrug. “Where’s Vanessa?” He asks, looking around for his sister.
"Upstairs, looking for god knows what in the attic? Unless she’s found it already, and then who knows." Suzanne waves one hand and pays that no mind. "Did Tim offer you a drink yet honey?" She asks you, giving you her absolute full attention. "We've got a whole bar out on the back porch, and the fridge under the car port has beer and soda. But I keep the wine in here." Apparently that is a conspiratorial secret, because she waggles her eyebrows at you. "Whatever you want, I'll grab you a cup."
"I'll grab a soda when we go back out," you promise her, not wanting to start drinking too early in the day. According to Tim, his mother's parties are a strictly all-day affair.
“Ma, she brought an apple crisp and a noodle dish. Vegan, for Zara to enjoy.” He tells her, beaming proudly. “Where do you want me to put them?”
"In the fridge, honey. There's room on the bottom shelf." She looks just as proud as he does, and she reaches out to squeeze your hand. "She's doing well with it, you know," she nods authoritatively. "Talked to her doctor about making sure she gets protein and all her vitamins. Doing some really creative cooking, that one. Once she's got her mind set on something, that's it. It's do or die." Suzanne smirks. "Gets that from her Dad."
“I tried some of that vegan cheese.” Tim tells his mom, shuddering slightly. “The sliced stuff is shit, but the shredded stuff actually melts pretty good.”
“What matters is that you tried.” Suzanne nods approvingly. “Have you two gotten to say hi yet?”
“Not yet, we wanted to get the food put up.” He explains, coming back over to kiss his mom’s cheek again. “I’m looking forward to seeing them. Texting when we get a chance sucks.”
“Go introduce everybody,” she encourages, shooting a smile your way before shooing him off. “There’s things to snack on out there already. Lunch in an hour, or whenever Ricky gets that grill going.”
“Yes ma’am.” He chuckles, knowing that Ricky will fight with the grill for at least ten minutes. He moves over to you and takes your hand. “Let’s go see the kids, baby.”
You let him usher you back out into the bright, late morning sun, and for the first time you get a good look at the backyard in its entirety. There are a lot of people here — more than a dozen for sure — and you can hear another car honk as it pulls up in front of the house. The mood is pure happiness and even a tinge of nostalgia, as people greet each other who haven’t seen each other in ages. The air of absolutely everything is positive, and you take a deep breath to bring some of that into you as well.
Tim sees the first one that he wants to introduce you to. “Vanessa!” He half cups his mouth with one hand to shout his sister’s name. “Get your ass over here!”
"Hi to you, too!" His younger sister rolls her eyes and kisses the woman she was talking to on the cheek before hustling across the lawn. She has a beer in her hand and sunglasses on top of her curls, and she has the same stout and strong figure as their mother but with a little bit more grace in her movements.
He lets go of your hand only so he can wrap his arms around his sister and hug her tight. Making her squeal when he squeezes too tight. “How have you been? It’s been a month or so.”
“Yeah, you’ve been busy.” She raises both her eyebrows at you, waggling them for comedic effect, and then promptly nudges her brother away so she can shake your outstretched hand.
“Sorry if I’ve kept him away from you,” you apologize, not ever wanting her to think that you were intentionally keeping Tim away from his family.
“Are you kidding me?” She laughs, giving your hand a squeeze. “It’s fantastic. I’ve barely seen him sulk in months.”
“I don’t sulk.” His lips immediately form a pout as he glares at his sister. “I was gonna be happy to introduce you to my girlfriend, now you can fuck off.” Even though he says that, he immediately tells her your name before pointing at her. “This is Vanessa, the pain in my ass all my childhood.”
"It's really nice to meet you." He's told you a lot about his sister and you already knew she was a ball buster, but meeting her now feels like a relief. They're close and it's fun to see Tim relaxed like this with his family. "Believe it or not he's actually only told me great things about you."
“Oh, I’m sure.” Her tone is sarcastic and she’s rolling her eyes, but her grin gives her away as she transfers her attention from her brother to you. “I’m a hugger.” She warns you before she pulls you in for a less formal greeting than a handshake.
"It's okay, I am too." It's a far sweeter welcome than you expected to get, both from his mom and his sister, and you let yourself squeeze her back just for a second before letting go. "I'm just really excited to meet everyone."
“I was so excited that Tim told Mom he was bringing you.” She tells you with a smirk at her brother. “It’s been forever since he’s introduced us to someone, and she who shall not be named isn’t exactly ‘fun’.” She confides.
"Oh?" Having been under the impression that his family had liked his ex while they were together, you tilt your head curiously. "Well, uh...we figured it was time," you offer with a shrug. "It's been more than a few months, ya know? And...and things have been really good. Tim is just—" You glance back at him and end up grinning. "He's really amazing."
“He’s a good guy.” As much shit as she gives him, she would be the first to defend her brother and she knows he is much the same way. Siblings in the sense that she can tease him but she’ll kick anyone else’s ass who does. “And he talks about you a lot, so I think he likes you.”
"You talk about me?" Yes, sure, he told you he loves you less than two hours ago, but you still soften in surprise hearing that.
“Oh he doesn’t shut up about you.” She insists, smirking wickedly at Tim who looks very interested in the top of his foot in his flip flops. “Asking if he should take you here, talking about your job. I feel like I know you.” She pats your arm. “He told me he didn’t want to fuck this up.”
"Did he tell you about the fundraiser he let me drag him to?" He's blushing and it's the cutest thing you've ever seen, so if you maybe pick out something to talk about that will make his cheeks turn an even deeper shade of red then that's entirely on purpose.
“Nooooooo.” Vanessa lights up and is nearly about to bust for information. “My brother? At a fundraiser?” She sounds positively scandalized, as if she could never imagine such a thing.
"The nonprofit I work for has dinner dances and black-tie events during the year." You explain, feeling Tim shift self-consciously next to you in the grass even though he's smiling. "He's actually been to two of them now."
“You got my brother to wear something other than those horrible dress pants and button ups?” She gasps. “I swear the ties were from Christmas when the twins were four.”
“We rented him a tuxedo for one event.” The admission brings a dramatic sigh from Tim but you lean over to put your arm around his waist and smile broadly. “You look good no matter what, honey.” Did you climb him like a tree that night because he looked extra good in the tux? Absolutely. But he still looks delicious in his t-shirt and shorts.
“I should just buy one.” Tim grumbles. He hadn’t liked wearing it, although realistically, it wasn’t much different from a regular suit. And you had enjoyed him in it. The sex had been extremely hot once he had gotten you back to your place. “Since you want me to go to those things.”
Vanessa’s eyebrows raise at the offer, and she smirks mercilessly. Hearing her big brother make any kind of comment that trends toward commitment is practically worth celebrating. “Ya know,” She giggles evilly and takes a sip of her beer. “I hear that’s even the kind of shit guys get married in.”
Tim nearly chokes in his own tongue, wishing he had decided to take the crime scene call that had come over the radio on the way here. Even a blood bath would have been preferable to the way his sister is probing for information. He just said he loves you, if he starts talking about marriage, you might think he’s gone nuts.
“Oookay, maybe let’s not pick a topic that makes him want to implode?” You try to joke, squeezing his arm gently, and stifle a laugh. That’s exactly the kind of thing you would expect from a little sister but you don’t want Tim to think you’re crazy the way the idea may or may not have already crossed your mind in daydreams from time to time.
“Jesus, Ness.” Tim huffs. “First time you meet her and you’re picking out our wedding colors?” He rolls his eyes. “Booked the church already?”
“Mom did.” Vanessa laughs, and you can’t quite tell if she’s kidding or not as she blows Tim a kiss and scampers off to keep her husband from blowing the place up while he’s on the grill.
“Oh dear God.” He rolls his eyes and shakes his head. “I’m sorry. I’ll—I’ll make sure Ma didn’t actually reserve the church.”
“Baby, baby—” You grab both of his hands and let a laugh burst through as you pull him closer. “She’s teasing. It’s okay. I’m sure your mom didn’t do anything like that and even if she did, who cares? It’s a funny story we’ll tell someone in the future.” Honestly? It makes you pretty fucking comfortable here knowing that his family is full of ball busters with good senses of humor. And that they’re okay enough with you to include you in those jokes.
“I wouldn’t put it past her.” He grumbles, although he’s leaning in to kiss your lips.
“Then it’s a really funny story we tell later on.” You promise him, happily taking that kiss that he offers you so easily. “I like that your sister is comfortable enough with me to tease.”
“They like you.” He points out with a grin. “Just like I told you they would.” He catches sight of the twins and lights up. “Come on, there they are.”
“This is going on the internet!” Tim’s twin girls are pulling out their phones as soon as they see their father, dramatically button smashing and pointing the devices at the two of you. “Red alert! Dad’s girlfriend is real! This is not a drill!”
“Hey!” Tim lunges forward, snatching for their phones playfully. “Don’t make me throw you in the pool!”
“You can’t.” They’re fraternal twins, and the taller one - Zara - reaches out to hug her dad first. “Your back couldn’t handle it if you tried.”
“I’d try.” He immediately wraps his arms around his firstborn daughter and hugs her tight to his chest. “Hey bug, how have you been?” He asks, kissing her head.
“I got a term paper kicking my ass, but I’m doing okay.” Zara shrugs. Her studies mean the world to her, next to her family, but she tries to stay realistic and avoid overreacting when school is difficult.
“She’s doing amazing, it’s annoying.” The slightly shorter of the twins has lighter hair and looks a bit more like their mother, but that hasn’t stopped Joey from growing up the opposite of Trina; well-adjusted and affectionate. “We need to ask you a favor, though,” she looks at both you and Tim seriously.
“What’s up?” Tim immediately frowns, sure that there is something wrong, something he needs to fix.
“We need you to throw Thanksgiving this year.” Both girls insist in unison, a habit leftover from childhood, before Joey continues to explain. “Gran said she wasn’t up to hosting on her own this year so Mom is trying to make us go to Derek’s parents’ house. But if we tell her you’re throwing Thanksgiving with your girlfriend we’ll be off the hook.” The idea that their grandmother doesn’t want to host anymore has been a bummer for everyone, but an even bigger bummer would be having to deal with their second step-dad’s snooty family.
“I—" he looks helpless towards you, hating that you’ve been put on the spot like this. Holidays haven’t even been discussed and he doesn’t know what you usually do. “Girls, look, even if—”
“No problem.” You cut in, knowing you might be overstepping a tiny bit but for the first favor you might be able to grant his kids, you’ll take that chance. “Even if your Dad gets tied up on a case, my house is big enough and I’m a pretty decent cook.” You do look to Zara though, knowing she can’t be too fond of the main event on Thanksgiving. “We’ll pick out some vegan things together, too.”
His oldest daughter immediately perks up at that idea. “Really?” She asks excitedly. “You wouldn’t mind? I know there’s like, a lot of negativity about vegans, some of them are real assholes.” She tells you. “But I just want to, you know, live pure. But I don’t blame people for eating meat, or if they can’t make me something.”
“I made a couple of things for today that are vegan, it’s really not a problem.” Her enthusiasm and her surprise at being accommodated just makes you want to reach out and hug her, but you look to her father instead. “Is this okay with you, hun? I mean my family’s Thanksgiving is clear across the country and it would be nice to…ya know…do something at home. Instead of being a pity invite at a coworker’s house.”
“What? Yeah.” He nods eagerly, both happy that the girls will be there and that you will be too. “Of course.” He looks over at the girls. “This year won’t be pizza because the turkey’s frozen.” He chuckles.
“Thank you.” Joey is the first to break the ice, reaching out to squeeze both of your shoulders. “Don’t get the wrong impression or anything, our Mom is great at some things, but hosting holidays is not one of them. Which is why it went to her mom for so long, and then whatever guy she’s married to, and—”
Zara practically elbows her sister in the ribs and smiles politely. “This is Joey,” she laughs, waving a hand at her sister. “She talks a lot when she’s nervous.”
“It’s okay.” With a wave of your own hand, you are offering both girls hugs if they want them. “I’m nervous, too. Your Dad loves the hell out of you girls and I’ve been really looking forward to meeting you.”
Zara and Joey both hug you, smiling happily while Tim looks on. He’s relieved that you seem to like the girls. And while it might be unusual that he’s just now introducing you to his twenty-year-old twins, he hadn’t wanted to force things too early. They had resented Derek’s intrusion into their lives when their mom had immediately started dating him, and he hadn’t wanted to make the same mistakes.
Getting to know Tim’s girls is fantastic. They’re good kids, smart as hell, and enthusiastic about their dad being happy again. So enthusiastic, in fact, that it’s easily an hour later when lunch is being announced that you manage to make your way back to his side after being stolen away. You’re at the food table with Zara while she scoops out a plate of your vegan peanut noodles when you give her a squeeze and tell her you’re going to go grab something to eat — and immediately drift away to Tim’s side as he brings over a plate of burgers and hot dogs to the other end of the table.
“Well hey there stranger,” you laugh, slipping one arm around his waist and sighing in relief at having the solid, comforting bulk of him back again.
“Hey.” He grins at you as he sets down the plate. “Sorry, had to rescue the day.” His brother-in-law had actually caught the grill on fire because he hadn’t cleaned it. Tim had taken over and been in charge of the food.
“My hero.” The grin on your face speaks volumes. “Some damn good kids you’ve got there, Rockford. They kept me well entertained, and we’ve got a whole menu worked out for Thanksgiving already.”
“Oh really?” He chuckles. “Has Zara convinced you to make me fry a Tofurkey?” He asks, knowing she might have tried.
“We’re going to do a dish of roasted cauliflower, mushrooms, and butternut squash to add to the table. She got excited about trying out a spice mix in them and said she’d love it for her main dish.” Hell, it sounded good to you as a meat eater, it didn’t surprise you that it sounded good to a vegan. “And she gave me some tips on using alternative milks and vegan butter in recipes so that more of the traditional dishes could be vegan friendly.” Honestly? None of it sounded difficult, and you’re thrilled to be able to do something for his kids. “No exaggeration. I’m looking forward to it.”
“That’s good.” The fact that you are accommodating his daughter is something that makes him fall a little more in love with you. Trina had complained bitterly when Zara had announced becoming vegan.
“I know you were worried when it came out of nowhere, but you don’t need to be.” In fact, after actually getting here and meeting everyone, you’re feeling more relaxed than you had thought possible. “And I—I just wanted to apologize for earlier,” you admit quietly. “Now that I know how nice everyone is, it…how I acted feels even more ridiculous.”
“So you don’t think that I’m going to realize anything more than I’m going home with a hot chick tonight?” He asks, leaning in and nudging his nose against yours.
"As long as you think so, that's all that matters." You don't have to see it, you remind yourself, as long as he does. What had your therapist said to you ages ago? 'You're just not your own type'.
“I absolutely think so.” He winks and leans back to leer at you. “Especially when you look that pretty in your sundress.”
"Oh yeah?" That look is all too familiar to you, and you bite back a grin. It's the same appraising look he had given you at the fundraiser before stealing you away from the party and back to his apartment, which was much closer to the venue than your house.
“Very pretty.” Tim grunts, moving behind you and pressing up against you at the table. “Good enough to eat.”
"Is that a promise?" He has that hungry look in his eyes that you can never resist and you try to school your expression into something innocent.
“Ah ah ahaaaaaa.” Vanessa tuts as she picks up a plate. “Not around the food.”
"Busted," you smirk, pulling Tim away from the table and heading toward the house as subtly as possible.
“You wanna?” Tim groans happily, his shuffled steps quickening behind you. He has zero qualms with having sex in this house, but he had expected you to demure.
“I always want you.” You murmur, practically rolling your eyes at him as you disappear into the house together. “Like absolutely always. It’s a constant state of existence, baby.”
“Yeah?” It surprises him how much you want him. Delights him, but surprises him. He watches you walk towards the stairs. “Last room on the left, baby.”
The upstairs hallway is littered with family photos of many generations, and you quickly look through them as you walk, until one makes you stop dead and “Aww!” out loud. Elementary age Tim in a little policeman’s uniform shares a double frame with a photo of the same man fifteen or twenty years later on the day he graduated from the Police Academy. “This might be the cutest goddamn thing I’ve ever seen,” you grin, pointing to the photos.
“Always knew I wanted to be a cop.” He feels his face burn and he shuffles slightly as he watches you examine the photos. “A little different now, don’t wear the uniform.”
“Nah, you don’t.” You grin up at him and hook your finger in his t-shirt to bring him down for a kiss. “I like the shoulder holster better anyway. Much sexier.”
“Sexier, huh?” He grins against your lips and leans in to press you against the wall. “Want me to wear it for you one day?”
“Maybe.” Your lips quirk against his in a way that absolutely means yes, and your hands wander up under his t-shirt to spread out over his muscles back. “Kinda curious how you would feel about interrogating me, actually…”
“Really?” He pulls back and arches a brow at you. “You want that? Maybe those handcuffs we were talking about? Giving you a pat down?”
The way you muffle a soft groan and briefly close your eyes should be plenty enough of a giveaway. “If I wasn’t wet before I certainly am now,” you grumble, enjoying the fantasy playing yet again in your mind.
“You concealing a weapon?” He asks gruffly, even though he is smiling. He won’t really roleplay with you right now, but you seem to love the idea.
“Maybe…” You can’t help but giggle, taking his hand that isn’t braced on the wall above your head and guiding it under the skirt of your sundress. “Guess you’re gonna have to find out.”
All he can feel is generous, warm flesh. Making him groan and his cock twitches against your hip. “When did you take your panties off?”
“I snuck inside about ten minutes ago.” Your soft little grin turns wicked. “I think I have a domesticity kink, cause I was enjoying watching you at the grill.”
“I’ll grill every night if you stop wearing panties.” He promises with a groan. “My sexy girl.”
“You wanna add another notch to that bedpost, baby?” The two of you are about three feet from the door to his childhood room and it probably wouldn’t be a good idea to get caught fucking in the hallway. Just for basic courtesy’s sake.
“Only notch that counts.” He promises, pulling away from you to drag you into the bedroom.
______
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thepersonnamedsam · 11 months
Note
Hey! Can I request prompt #1 with Charles Leclerc? Like I can totally see him being a little confused and goofy in a steamy situation lol
seduction gone wrong - cl16
pairing: charles leclerc x fem!reader
summary: in where charles tried to seduce you and it goes horribly wrong
word count: 1.5k
warnings: smut with a plot, p in v (wrap it before you tap it, kids), oral (f. and m. receiving), alcohol drinking, some blood (-play idk), aftercare, minors dni, thank you :)
prompt: „do you want me to seduce you?“
note: sorry love, that you had to wait so long for your request, but here it is, hope you like it
and omg, thank you so much for 500 followers, i never thought i would reach that many people with my silly little stories. i am forever grateful for all of you, i mean it! <3
masterlist/ taglist / prompt list
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It was a long day and you were tired, unbelievable tired. Everything sucked and nothing went the way you wanted it to. You just wanted to come home and have a good time with Charles, your boyfriend.
Your neck ached, your back hurt and all you wished for was a massage and an orgasm. But Charles, the man he was, didn’t really understand your wish.
You opened the door and smelled the food Charles probably ordered. He knew how to cook but mostly opted to deliver food to your home. „Charles, love, I’m home“, you announced yourself as you took off your shoes and jacket.
„In the kitchen“, he yelled back at you and you went to greet your boyfriend. He was standing there, with his back leaned against the kitchen island, looking devilishly handsome. You almost purred as your hands grinned his broad shoulders and gave him a quick, but meaningful kiss.
„Hey baby, how was your day?“, he asked you. At the thought of your day, the mood was ruined. „Ugh, it was the worst“, you whined and hoped Charles would grab on to your appeal. But with your lucky day, he didn’t. „Is it a glass of wine kinda day?“, he asked you, eyebrows raised. You sighed, no, it was a fuck me till i can’t walk kinda day, you thought.
Charles didn’t wait for your answer and opened the fridge to open you a bottle of white wine. The glass was already propped on the counter and he filled it to the brim. You were thankful for all the things he did for you, but you wished he would just the hint you were giving him.
„Thank you, chéri.“ You gave him a quick peck and took a large sip of your wine. He rubbed your shoulders and you moaned, just a tiny one, but you still did. But Charles didn’t register the moan and carried on.
„I ordered Chinese, are you hungry?“ - „A bit, yes. Thank you, Charlie.“
The plates were already on the table, so was the takeout bag. You took your glass to the table and sat down at your usual spot. He ordered himself some fried rice with chicken and for you some dumplings.
You weren’t talking during dinner, but he was telling you about his day - training, some time in the simulator, he met up with his race engineers and did a fitting for a new seat. His day was way better than yours.
The food didn’t help your needs and desires. You still wanted that orgasm and his mouth on yours. So you took matters into your own hands. „Charles, you look really good today“, you complimented him and batted your eyelids. „Thank you, amour, you too“, he said with a cheerful voice.
„Charles, I want something from you“, you whispered. You looked into his beautiful eyes and tried to look as sexy as possible. „What do you want?“ How can one man be so oblivious? „Charles, I need something from you.“ - „Mhm, yeah, you told me that. But I can’t do anything until you tell me what it is?“
You bit your lip, you loved him, really, he was the love of your life, but right at this moment, you could’ve kicked him to the moon. „Charles?“ - „Yes?“ - „I need you.“ You let out a breathy moan. Your voice quiet and shaky you look at him with lust in your eyes.
„Do you want me to seduce you?“
„That’s exactly what I want, Charles“, you thanked him and he grinned. He left the table and wanted to make his way over to you but in the heat of the moment he didn’t see your wine glass and pushed it over with his arm. The wine spilled all over the table and the floor and the glass broke in millions of pieces. Charles hurried to clean up the mess and crouched down to pick up the pieces. But you were too hungry for him to stop his mission.
You grabbed him by his shirt and said: „I don’t care about some spilled wine, I’d rather you make me overflow like that.“
You licked over your lips and he kissed you. He still tasted the white wine on your lips and groaned into the kiss. „Charles, I really need you“, you told him. He pursed his lips, he tried to be dominant and seductive, but with his luck he cut his hand trying to stand up. He hissed and immediately put his hand into his mouth.
But you were sick, rather than being worried about him you imagined his mouth against your pussy, sucking and licking as he did right now to stop the blood from dropping onto the floor. You took his hand to your mouth and sucked the blood and kissed the wound. „Now can we finally go to the bedroom?“
Charles was star struck, amazed by you. How can one woman be so perfect, so perfect for him? You were the love of his life.
On the way to your bedroom your clothing fell and he was on his way to do the same. Naked on your bed you waited for the love boy to devour you. „Bébé, wait a minute, I just need to find a condom“, he shouted from the hallway. You groaned, „Charles, please, I just need you, I don’t care about a silly condom, put a baby in me anyway.“
It just came out of you, did you actually want a baby from him? Yes, but certainly not now. Charles didn’t catch the phrase anyway, too caught up in still searching for a condom. He gave up shortly after that.
His naked torso and his v-line made you sweat. You pressed your thighs together to gain some friction. If Charles didn’t give you any attention, you had to do it yourself.
You fingers in your mouth to wet them some, even though you were already drenched. They trailed down your body, your mouth opened, a shaky breath released. Your index finger circled your right nipple. Occasionally pinching it. Charles was still focused on something else. „Don’t start without me, chérie“, he absently whispered, head turned to the ground.
You giggled and that’s when he finally looked up, your fingers in your pussy, pumping in and out. Your thumb pressed to your clit. He gasped. How could you start without him? Traitor. He walked up to you with lustful eyes. He crawled to your body and removed your fingers from your pussy.
You heard him inhale your scent. Suddenly you felt him lick a stripe up your pussy. You moaned his name, surprised by his sudden horniness. His mouth still on you, sucking and licking. Your clit inside his mouthy His fingers gripping your thighs, half moons left on your skin. He teased you. You felt his light beard scratch your inner thigh, his hands now snaked they’re way around to your ass and squeezed it. „Charles please“, you moaned, you wanted some release.
He suddenly stopped and smirked up to you. You threw your head back. His trousers were gone in an instant, so were his boxers. His tip was red and swollen. Leaking with pre cum it never looked more delicious. „Baby“, you looked him up and down, „let me please taste you.“
On your stomach now, you licked a stripe up from his belly up to his tip. His shaft thick and pulsating, you couldn’t wait to feel it in your mouth. His pre cum was licked up by you and it tasted salty and just like Charles. You moaned. Your tongue pressed flat on his underside. Hollowing your cheeks you swallowed him whole. His head was thrown back and he groaned, loud.
Your head bobbed up and down his dick. Feeling him twitch and pulsate was your favourite feeling all time. He grabbed your hair and held you down, so you were deep throating him. „Stop, mon dieu my god, I want to be inside you“, he groaned and pulled you off his cock.
As you rearranged and dipped into your wet and warm folds he moaned. And you moaned. „Let them all hear who makes you feel so good, ma chérie“, he whispered into your ears. His rhythm fast and deep. He hit your spot every thrust. You were in heaven, your bad day long forgotten.
He pushed down onto your lower abdomen and said: „I can feel myself, look how good I fill you up, feel it.“ That gave you the rest. The tight know that formed in your stomach exploded and you came with Charles name in your mouth. Soon after Charles came too, after he helped you ride out your orgasm.
He held you in his arms, softly stroking over your naked skin. He got up and brought you a cold glass of water and a lukewarm cloth to clean you up. Slowly he cleaned you up, from head to toes. When he was finished, he kissed you slowly and with lots of emotion.
„I love you, dear“, you whispered and kissed him again. „I love you much more, chérie“, he said and closed his eyes, holding you.
°°°
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takaminevaeh · 8 months
Text
The winner of the poll is…~
soft!dom deku x sub!fem reader!
I’ll post another poll later tonight to see who’s next… I really thought todobaku was gonna win but I guess not lol!
I’ve decided to include the whole part and not just split the aftercare, just because it’s easier for me AND sometimes the aftercare is too short to put it into its own post.
soft!dom deku x sub!fem reader
cw// dom!/sub! dynamic (izu’s a huge pleasure dom), heavy teasing, praise, oral sex (f! receiving), edging, slight overstim, cum eating, slight subdrop, aftercare
You ask and you shall receive…~
Ever since we were kids, I was hopelessly in love with Izuku Midoriya.
The way he would hug me so tightly, squishing his cheeks against mine.
Even as we got older, the cuddling never ended.
Once we graduated from high school, we started to become distant.
He was always busy.
I watched his saves on the news, biting my nails as I sat on the edge of my seat.
It wasn’t until the night that my apartment complex was attacked that I finally saw him again.
I was barely conscious the first time, but the parts I remember…
He was panicking.
I vaguely remember his panicked voice bouncing around my head… telling me I’d be okay.
That he’d never leave again.
That he loves me.
I woke up in the hospital just a few hours later, Izuku was just outside my hospital room as he talked to some of the staff.
He hurried in once he saw that I was awake, smiling brightly at me as tears pricked his eyes.
“Oh, Y/N… I’m so glad you’re okay..!” He reached out to cup my face in his hands, rubbing my cheeks softly as he looked down at me.
“Izu…”
“Shh… don’t speak… I want to tell you something…”
I looked up at him with soft eyes, my head still in a daze from the attack as I focused on his words.
“I love you… When you were still dazed you… You confessed to me… I want you to know that… I love you too… and I will never leave you alone like that again… I promise…”
I had passed out after that, but he kept his promise to me.
That’s why now, I’m his little housewife.
I cook and I clean, and I take care of our cat, Milo.
I do everything for him.
But not because he forces me to… he tells me, again and again, I never have to lift a finger… that he’d hire maids to take care of it.
But I like doing these things for him, plus I like things to be in a specific order.
I had finally finished rearranging the living area before he got home.
I’m freshly showered, laying comfortably in one of the recliner chairs in only his hoodie and panties as I eat some soup dumplings, his portion still sitting in the steamer to keep them warm.
I hear the locks on the door and sit up, staring at the door as he walks in, kicking off his shoes and setting them beside the others.
“I’m home- oh! Well, hello there, princess…” He walks over with heavy feet, holding my head and kissing my forehead softly, petting my hair.
“How’s my favorite girl doing?” I smile up at him, my cheeks slightly flushed.
“I’m good! Do you like how I reorganized?” He finally takes the chance to inspect the room, furrowing his brows a bit.
“I told you that you shouldn’t reorganize while I’m not here… what if you hurt yourself moving all of this heavy furniture?” I wave my hand.
“Of course I didn’t… Kacchan and Eijiro popped in around lunchtime… I asked them to pick up some more cat food for Milo. So, while they were here, I asked them to move the heavier things.”
Hearing me say his name, our ginger cat, Milo, hops up on my lap, curling onto the soft blanket thrown across my lower body.
“Well, I’m glad for that. How much did they get? How much do I owe them?”
“Kacchan said not to worry about it! Just as long as we promise to cat-sit for him next weekend!”
“But… I work next weekend…” I set my empty plate down on the coffee table, tilting my head as I smile up at him.
“I know, silly. I’ll be watching his cat, don’t you worry!” His eyes soften as he looks down at me, resting his large hand against my head.
“You’re so sweet, baby…” I flush under his gaze.
“So, what did you eat before I got here?” He takes the empty plate from the coffee table.
“Soup dumplings! I know you like the stuff from the convenience stores but… I wanted to try to make them myself! I thought they were yummy, but yours are still in the steamer! I used a different soup for yours!”
He moves towards the steamer and transfers his dumplings onto my used plate, moving back towards me. I picked Milo up and put him on his bed, watching as Izuku sat in the seat I was just in.
He shoves one into his mouth, chewing slowly.
I tug at my fingers, a little nervous about whether he likes them or not.
“Izu..?” He smiles up at me, swallowing the food.
“These are great! I won’t ever need any from the convenience store again!” I smile so hard my cheeks hurt, holding my cheeks as he finishes eating.
He stands and moves so he’s in front of me, leaning down to kiss my cheek.
“Thank you, baby. You’re the best. How about you go to our room?”
“I have to wash your plate…”
“I got it, okay? It’s just one…” I nod and head into our room, undoing the covers a bit so we can both get in.
I find my phone and plug it in, answering a few unanswered texts before turning it off and setting it to the side.
Izuku comes back with nothing but a pair of basketball shorts on, kneading one of his large hands into his shoulder blades.
“Do you… want me to massage your shoulders, Izu..?”
“Oh… no, baby… I’m fine… I actually… wanted to do something for you tonight…” I watch with cautious eyes as he starts to crawl onto the bed, slipping under the covers and moving so he’s on top of me.
“H-huh..? What for..?”
“Hm… dunno… you’re just too cute… I wanna spoil you…” I blush heavily as he leans in, kissing my lips softly.
His kisses become deeper and more passionate, leaving me struggling for air before I pull away.
He doesn’t stop when I do, though, moving his lips to trail wet kisses down my jaw to my neck.
He grabs my wrists to lift me, pulling the hoodie over my head and tossing it onto the floor.
I pout as he does, missing the warmth already.
Soon, that warmth was replaced by his body, him taking the opportunity to suck and nibble on my neck better.
He moves down to nibble and kiss my collarbone gently, reaching with one of his hands to wrap around my throat.
It wasn’t enough to restrict my breathing at all, just laying there to show me that he was the one in control.
As if he isn’t always in control…
He grabs onto one of my breasts with his free hand, latching his lips onto it as he sucks gently, kneading my nipple with his tongue.
By now, I was a panting and whining mess, my panties soaked from my arousal as I rubbed my thighs together for some sort of friction.
He notices my movements and lifts his head to look at me, his pupils blown as he stares at me full of lust.
“Can I lick your pussy, princess..? I’ve been thinking about your sweet juices on my tongue all day…”
If I wasn’t blushing before, I definitely was now.
I felt the heat rise from my pulsing core up my chest and neck to my cheeks, traveling up to my ears.
I nod shyly, opening my legs up for him as he smiles widely, a hint of mischief behind his smile.
“Oh, you’re too kind, baby…” His head disappears under the covers as he runs his fingers up my soaked panties, making my body twitch due to the unexpected touch.
“My, my… is my baby sensitive already..? I should take care of that…” He kisses me through my soaked underwear, teasing it with kitty licks before lifting my hips with his hands and sliding them off.
His face appears from under the covers for a brief moment, watching as he sniffs my soaked panties.
I blush even harder, my thighs starting to tremble from the lewd display in front of me.
He tosses the panties onto the floor before ducking his head under the covers again.
I feel him kiss my inner thighs, teasingly slow as he gets closer to my pussy before switching to the other thigh.
I was trembling with anticipation, my hole clenching around nothing as I whined.
“Shh… be patient… all this teasing will make it feel so good… you’ll be so sensitive from just one orgasm, you won’t be able to handle another one…” He blows on my pussy the slightest bit, and even that was enough to make my whole body jerk.
“See..?” He hooks his arms around my thighs, his grip firm but not painful as he slowly licks up my slit, my body jolting as my head falls back against the pillows, a needy moan leaving my lips as he does it again.
He eats me out agonizingly slow, bringing me to the brink of an orgasm before stopping entirely, leaving me a whining mess.
Tears were streaming down my cheeks by now, the pleasure being too much from the lack of release.
My grip on the sheets was so fierce, that my knuckles were turning white.
“P-Please..!” I manage to sputter out.
He unlatches his lips from my clit, moving so that I could see his face from under the covers.
“Please what, darling? Do you want to cum..?” I nod, sitting up on my elbows to look at him better.
“Y-Yes, please… I-I’m so sensitive… I just wanna cum… Can I cum..? Please..?” His fingers brush against my clit and I jolt, my body still sensitive from being edged three different times.
“Well… since you asked so nicely… I have to give my princess what she wants, right?” I nod eagerly.
“Feels so good, Izu… Wanna cum just for you…” He smiles up at me softly, hiding under the covers again.
I feel no movement for a moment before being completely engulfed in pleasure.
I could feel his tongue buried as deep as it would go, my walls clenching pathetically around it as he swipes his nose against my clit.
The sounds of him lapping up my pussy were my undoing, my body tensing for a moment before I reach my orgasm.
My hips buck up into his mouth involuntarily, my fingers finding their place in his emerald green curls as I tug, riding his face to feel the most pleasure.
My vision was a bit spotty, the pleasure completely clouding my brain as I started to calm down, releasing his hair as I twitched from his continuous licks.
He doesn’t stop until the last of my cum is gone, leaving me twitching with sensitivity as he kisses up my belly.
His face appears from under the covers again, the cutest smile on display as he kisses my belly, keeping eye contact with me.
“You taste so good… thank you for letting me enjoy you…” I could only hum in response, his tongue having fucked me stupid as I drop my head against the pillows.
It takes a few minutes before I come down from my high, realizing that he had moved me to lay on his lap, my back against his chest.
“D-Did you finish..?” He kisses the top of my head, chuckling softly.
“Your moans were enough to make me cum twice, princess… how do you feel..?” I blush, realizing that I forgot he was such a pleasure dom.
“I’m still tingling… it felt really good…”
“Hm… I guess I’ve been neglecting you then… I don’t think you ever came that hard before…”
“It… has been a while… doesn’t help that I’m not allowed to touch myself when you’re not here…” He laughs softly, kissing the top of my head again.
“I’m not changing that rule, by the way. Now, I want you to sleep. And… can I ask you a quick question?” I nod softly, my eyes becoming heavy as I close them, ready to sleep at any second.
“Would you mind if I… woke you up with my tongue..?” The heat rushes to my cheeks again, but it’s not enough to get me to open my eyes.
“I wouldn’t mind… but if I say my safe word…”
“I will stop immediately. You’ve never had to use the safe word and I hope you never will.”
I smile, moving my body so I can hug him, inhaling his scent.
“I love you, Izu… thank you for always being my hero…” I fall asleep shortly after that, not conscious when Izuku kisses the top of my head again, blushing.
“I love you too, Y/N… goodnight…”
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sillyamyy · 2 months
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what are they doing to him? 😭💀
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sluttery-withoutshame · 2 months
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The real reason Gene wears a stanky codpiece.
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writerscall · 5 months
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how can i be dead to you when we’re looking at the same moon?
part two to this. the moment of truth between you and hazel holds more than one big reveal.
author’s note/s: 1.1k words. angst, hurt and no comfort for now. i apologize in advance for the ending of this chapter.
Surprisingly, it isn’t very hard to make sure you don’t spend too much time around Hazel until you felt ready to fall back into your old closeness. You were roommates, but your schedules clashed greatly — blessing in disguise? — and the only free times you had together was late afternoon to dinner, which you usually decided to spend anywhere but your room. It was just too weird. She was so ready for a blank slate and you just… weren’t. There was still a mix of guilt and disappointment and bitterness from high school, and immature as it was to not just let it go like Hazel seemed to have done, you didn’t know what to do with it.
You didn’t know what to do with her. It wasn’t fair to her back then and it wasn’t fair to her now, but how could you tell her?
You don’t. You can’t. Not without the bigger possibility of truly ruining everything between the two of you now.
Unlike yourself, however, Hazel was on a mission to get things back to the way they were before that football game. “Oh, hey! I’m so glad I caught you before you left for the library,” she says as she closes the door behind her, smiling at you even though she looked exhausted.
You wanna ask her about how that last class on her schedule was going cause she mentioned that was gonna be a loaded one, but you stop yourself.
“I was just about to leave actually—”
“Do you wanna go get take-out for dinner?”
Both of you just stare at each other for a second after speaking at the same time. Then she shakes her head and chuckles, saying, “I found this amazing Chinese place nearby. Might even say they’re a little better than that old resto we used to go to back home. Their shrimp dumplings are to die for and I know you like those, so…”
“Um,” you start, the ache already building in your chest because you know you're about to see yet another drop in her expression at what you’re about to say. “Maybe another time. I really have to get started on this reviewer for my test. Sorry, Hazel.”
You shoot her an apologetic look as you pick up your bag, but instead of the usual resigned nod and mumbled ‘alright sure, happy studying’ response that you get, you see her hands ball into fists at her sides before hearing a frustrated, “Why do you keep blowing me off?”
She’s angry and rightfully so. “You said that whatever happened back in high school doesn’t matter but it mattered— it matters to me and I don’t even fucking know what it was that made you treat me like… like I did something to make you hate me.”
Her voice cracks as she says ‘hated,’ and you take the smallest step forward but she keeps going. “And obviously it still matters to you too because you’re not acting like it doesn’t. You don’t wanna hang out, you’re barely in our shared room, you send me the most uninterested-sounding replies with every message, I,” she sighs, tilting her head at you. “Could you at least tell me what I did wrong before you go study for that test that may or may not exist?”
Moment of truth. You knew it was gonna come sooner or later and that you would never feel prepared either way. You just hoped that whatever came after wouldn’t totally suck.
“That football game… you know, the one where you guys beat up the Huntington players?”
She nods. You can feel your throat start to close up. “You and PJ kissed,” you tell her plainly with a shrug. Your eyes flit to hers once before looking elsewhere; you can’t look right at her with your next words. “And I… I had this silly little crush on you so I took it personally as some sort of sign that I should finally get over it. Over you.”
To no avail, you add silently in your head. The silence stretches between the two of you for what seems like a whole thirty seconds that you’re almost sure she’s about to either shout at you or walk out.
Then, in a soft voice that catches you by surprise (she was supposed to be mad, wasn’t she?), Hazel says, “I’ve liked you since the day we met in fifth grade, I— it crushed me when you just shut me out halfway through senior year. How could you do that? Why didn’t you just tell me?”
Well, this wasn’t how you were expecting the conversation to go.
Feeling defensive because you could ask her that same second question, you finally look at her, but she cuts you off. “Do you even know of any of the stupid things I did to get your attention after that? Even to just get you to look at me? I tried joining the clubs you joined but of course I wasn’t qualified, I waited in the hall by your locker almost everyday to try and talk to you— god, I even went to some of those stupid baseball games to see you even if I had to watch you cheer for your stupid boyfriend. And that one really hurt to sit through.”
“Hazel—”
“I feel like I turned myself inside out liking you and trying to figure out why we suddenly weren’t in each other’s lives anymore. But all this time it was because you liked me and… and what, you didn’t think I liked you back?”
The room is silent again as you just stare at each other for a moment. There was so much to say. Of course you knew she tried out for your clubs because you had a hand in not letting her in any of them. Of course you noticed her lingering nearby whenever you had to get something from your locker during breaks. Of course you saw her at those games; having to act like you were really into the sport and your boyfriend was hard for you, too.
But all that comes out is, “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I don’t know what else to say except that I’m sorry, Hazel. For all of it.”
Her face crumples and you just can’t be there, so you start walking towards the door. Hazel blocks it just as you reach for the knob.
“Please let me go.”
“I can’t,” she whispers. “I just got you back.”
She’s close, closer than you think she’s ever physically been in all your years of friendship. Close enough that you could close the gap if it was a more appropriate time.
Hazel seems to think it is, because barely a second passes after she eyes your lips that she kisses you.
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capswarmedals · 4 months
Text
BBC GHOSTS: DEEP DIVE
"You're a bloody fool, James!" - Ben Willbond, Inside Ghosts: A Christmas Gift.
CONTAINS SPOILERS FOR CHRISTMAS EPISODE AND SEASON 5. BE WARNED.
Okay, just before we start, I WILL be referring to BOTH James and The Captain. Wait and see, your poor little dumplings.
We all know The Captain. Brave, stern, always has a stiff upper lip and of course, most obviously, he's an ABBA loving star. Joking (not really though)!! The most obvious part is that he is gay, but he hides it deep down inside himself. You'd have to kill him to find out or well, you know what I mean (/ref). That part deep down inside himself is James. James. The real person, the person under the mask, the villain, the mastermind of it all. Except that... James isn't really anything like The Captain. James is not brave, not stern, never has a stiff upper lift, but he's still an ABBA fan and gay. Incredibly, incredibly gay.
We know that he had a very, VERY strong crush on Havers (Anthony as I will be referring to) as evident in the Cricket Report in the Button House Archives and in Redding Weddy/Carpe Diem. Throughout the series, we see James fall for men. Mike ("Yes, he'd make a very fine soldier."), Adam, the director ("Yes, though I might just... Check."), Pat (even though it's not as obvious, but it's certainly there).
Many people, including myself, head canon James/The Captain to be autistic, and I can very much add some reason and proof to these reasons.
1. A very strict routine. This man will NOT let go of routine, and it is clear in 4x02 (Speak As Ye Chooses) where he states: "It's all very well saying 'At ease', but what do you do for the rest of the day?" and visible expression of shock and anger to finding out that a club was cancelled. As we come to the end of episode, where we see the man casually without his jacket on, he says "We've got forever" before immediately re-settling himself into his strict routine when being reminded of Film Club. But of course, this could be either that James is attracted to Captain America or is just reminded of his strict routine. This links into another point about change. In 3x05 (Something To Share?), this silly man agrees with Pat about how it is frightfully important to have an extremely strict routine. DON'T get me started on his almost coming out. (I will talk about this.)
2. Hyperfixations. This man has a hyperfixation/special interest in tanks, birds and basically anything remotely military related. He made a club solely dedicated FOR birds. He values his hyperfixations over secrets ("This is outrageous, I'll simply have to tell Fanny-" "No more war documentaries, then." "Your secret is safe with me, she'll have to kill me first- Well- You know what I mean."). 1x02, watching Hitler's Secret Superweapons "It's Christmas! I mean, it's Christmas Morning!" and when Mike turns it off... "What the bally heck do you think you are doing? Where the bally hell are the tanks?" "If you were dead, I would thrash your bottom, sir!". As like other autistic people, such as myself, taking away our hyperfixations isn't a good thing. We don't like that.
3. Masking/easily overwhelmed. (Basically what this deep dive is about). James is the true individual. The Captain is his mask, his shell. And he's been living in it for far too long now. He does not like change, and hates loud noises. This is clear when a club is cancelled in 4x02, and when he realizes the Queen's speech is televised in 2x07. He stress stims by using his swagger stick (Or Anthony's) and twirling it around in his fingers, he bounces a lot, he hums a lot, and whenever he matches about the place, he swings his arms depending on what arm the swagger stick is under (usually the right), and yes, I know that military marching is very exaggerating on the arms, but STILL, it's an output of energy that he does CONSTANTLY. I don't think I've seen anybody talk about the fact he hums. He does it SO MUCH.
4. Tone. Because of his ridiculous amount of gayness inside of him, this man cannot always understand straight jokes. 5x04, where they play Blankety Blank and he does not understand the word "saucy" (I mean, it is late 20th century/early 21st century slang...) and does not approve of the meaning. He gets jokes late, but that's alright because I do too.
ANYWAYS. Back to his pining.
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In the first GIF, you see James check Adam out. This also happens in another scene with the quote "Do you find yourself to be distracted?" where he takes the moment to check Adam out yet again. In this second GIF, you see James slightly creep out when he realizes that he's openly saying he'll miss a man, with that look down, almost ashamed of himself.
But why does he fall for these men of order? Because it reminds him of Anthony, not because they're bossing everyone about - it's as if they're doing the bossing about for him, so he can relax and be himself. During Redding Weddy, we see Anthony order the unit around whilst James is looking outside the window (suppressing stims, but bouncing slightly on his feet) trying to spot Germans. I could see why James fell for Anthony. Despite everyone else, Anthony does not see these stims as annoying or his remarks to be unfunny. We see him SMILE when James makes a joke.
As we know, their love for each other was mutual.
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He knew.
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Anthony smiles after saying "James" and saying "I know". Why? He knew he was dying, he knew that James loved him, he knew why James was here. He wanted to be by James' side as he died to comfort him. To just be together, maybe once. Maybe twice. We don't know if they've held hands, kissed, but still. This is a very significant moment.
Additionally, Anthony's knowledge of James' intense crush is during their talk in James' office in Redding Weddy as it starts to reach a conclusion. Anthony subtly hints to the fact that if James should say anything, the moment is now ("Well, if that's all?").
He raises his eyebrow slightly, communicating to James that he is eager to hear what he really says, and that it's okay to be them because they're alone together. But no. The Captain completely hides James away. Anthony understands, he always has. The Captain probably hid James away because of Anthony's reaction to "I shall miss you, Havers." (his smile drops).
But... "I say, Havers?"
The way Anthony turns around. SO QUICK.
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His smile. It's so ridiculously warm. But he knows because he saw that hesitancy, he saw James' sad expression. James is bally well sad that Anthony is leaving!!
Masking is clearly shown in this conversation. The Captain is preventing James from speaking the truth. And just like how he buried the limpet mine, he too, buried his feelings. And it became a ticking time bomb to Carpe Diem, where that emotional bomb finally explodes.
He leaves it to the last second. Literally. Let me show you proof.
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Ben is absolutely AMAZING at micro-expressions, one of the many reasons I love to delve into The Captain so much. Carpe Diem (5x05) is an excellent example of some of the best James scenes.
Right here, what I am personally reading is that James is attempting to unmask, or is in the process of doing so. He deciding whether he should tell his story or not. This frame is important as it comes just after the quote "When I died, I never got to be surrounded by the people I loved." Blatant foreshadowing here because well, it shows that James loved Anthony and still does, despite it being 83 years since Anthony left of that year, he still holds him very dear to his heart. Of course, he has Anthony's swagger stick, which I love because he's always been there with James to help him out through moments. I love that and I love everything about that. How I ADORE Simon Hynd's directing here of the camera position, openly hinting to the fact that James died with Anthony next to him. God, everyone in that show is a mastermind!!
I also think that he is remembering here. Perhaps remembering the good memories? That Sunday afternoon stroll, or that certain Cricket Report? He's trying desperately to remember Anthony so he doesn't forget him when he moves on. For all he knows, he doesn't even know if Anthony thinks of him. All he knows is that he knew, and is most probably dead. He doesn't know what's beyond the veil. He doesn't know if he'll see Anthony. It's worth it.
This "desperate searching" facial expression is the same as the expression he had when glancing at the gate a few scenes prior to this, eyebrows furrowed and mouths slightly agape. It cuts to the gate, where we know, that in Redding Weddy, Havers walked out of. Anthony. Yet again, he's remembering him. James is obsessed with the memory of Anthony, the good times they had yet the good times they never were really good as laws about homosexuality were extremely strict. You could even say he is clingy.
Another thing is that, The Captain is one of the most favourite characters and people have been demanding to see how he died for ages! Why is it near the end of the last season? Well. I may have an idea to why it is in the last season.
James leaves things until the last second, he leaves the real explanation to things until it's too late. I saw someone on tiktok quote that James is as pretty as poppies because his love sprouts up in the wrong times and wrong places, which I think is amazing. I personally believe that his death was purposely the last one because you needed to see that he's more than just a stern WW2 CO with no feelings. He's an anxious man who's terrified of the real world so decides to seclude himself in a time and place where he was loved. World War 2. 1940. When Anthony loved him. We needed to see this inner secluded character within him to make the death sadder, which is what Ben likes, the silly man.
This also explains why he says "Is it? Is it, Alison?" during Redding Weddy because, well, with his mindset and attitude, he doesn't believe the war is over. He wasn't very good at keeping a unit of alive people under control, but perhaps he could try at keeping a whole bunch of dead people under control to keep himself busy from accepting the fact that Anthony is gone and he should emotionally move on.
In 4x04 (Gone Gone), the episode where Mary moves on, we see that James' coping mechanism is to keep himself busy. Keep himself busy so he doesn't have to focus on his feelings, but when he's given the time to pause and process it... He completely breaks down. Imagine that with Anthony when he left for North Africa.
But why does he like Pat?
Well. It isn't canon. But, the most recent Christmas special definitely hints at it. Pat introduced James to the amazing thing of baby talking, attempting to teach him just as Mia is put to bed. But once again The Captain's hard shell is back again and gives him a monotone voice and tone, rather making him seem like a robot. But at the end of the episode. He learned, and the glance he takes towards Pat is "Did I do it?" and Pat gives him a warm smile and a subtle nod. HUSBANDS I TELL YOU!
The Woodworm Men (3x03): Pat outbests The Captain with camping, yet they are still both very keen. The Captain trudged back though!! In this episode, James is awarded the teamwork badge from Pat, and when you see the scene, you can tell that he is smitten and in love. Because, now rewatching that scene with the context of his death, he must've been the happiest he had been in a while to achieve and properly earn a badge. James, I think, personally likes Pat because he still has all the leading roles (being a scout leader) and that reminds him a lot of Anthony hence why we see them working together in a lot of episodes (2x06, 2x02, etc). It all leads back to Anthony. Who knows what would've happened if they didn't meet.
I also think that Getting Out (1x06) is a good episode that represents self growth as well as debating with the issue of being mocked, as James is mocked in the episode.
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This is him overhearing the conversation. Confusion. Anger. This episode is where James learns that not everybody will adapt themselves for him, not everybody will accept the way he acts. It's pretty clear that he cannot control this mindset he has, it was probably drilled into him, the poor soul. The way he brings himself back into the group is through a secret weapon (Kitty, because she's the most likeable and their relationship is mwah).
This episode is also important because of the scene in the library with James and Kitty.
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"What matters more? Keeping Alison here, or letting her be happy?"
Now imagine that question but Anthony. James has sacrificed his life and soul towards Anthony, and even has a piece of him with him. This man is obsessed with Anthony. Crazily in love. He can't control his feelings for people. It just... Happens.
After Carpe Diem, it took me only a fraction of a second to see how comfortable he was. He was free to love who he wanted! I was stimming so crazily when the last scene of Season 5 (disregarding the Christmas special) was him being gay. Fanny comforted him after he came out, and every one supported him. He feels safe now.
The mirror and the draw in the intro.
Personally, I believe that the mirror represents the fact that his medals are the right way, meaning that the man in the mirror is The Captain and the man looking at his reflection is James. He's looking what he could've been. A hero. Yet now that he's come to terms with himself, James knows that he can be himself now. Free of judgement. Free of secluding himself away. I believe that the drawer represents him ever searching for more memories to grasp onto, more things about Anthony to remember. I also think it represents the fact that there is something inside of him that is worth looking for, and that thing deserves to be looked for and looked after. The draw is pulled out as far as it can go, so this could point to the fact that there is something buried within the house that needs to be found and given back to him. Could be the limpet mine. Or perhaps that William letter truly was a love letter.
OVERALL:
James is a different man to The Captain. The Captain is merely a costume or a nickname James wears knowing full well of the man he is underneath those perceived images of him. James is a coward. James is obsessed with Anthony. His heart has bled so much he has to rely on the small amount of attention from someone so he can carve it out and then offer it to those people who attention has been wasted on him. Ben is an amazing actor and writer who threads things together so subtly and sneakily it's insane. James won't let go of the military mindset, just incase he meets Anthony when he moves on. He thinks that no one will fall in love with the present him so he tries his best to act like his old self. Ben is right. You certainly are a fool, James. But oh, how I love your character.
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jelluf1sh · 6 months
Note
*sends a peacock with my request to you*
Heyyyyyyy
Can I request Sukuna (of course), Gojo, and Nanami with a reader who just randomly bites out of love. Like nothing sexual, but just biting them as a show of love at random times! Just
c h o m p
Thank you! And of course, remember to take care of yourself and take your time!
𖦹 ˚ ✩ . ❝chomp !❞
★ synopsis. there's just something about him that looks so biteable……
★ includes. satoru gojo, nanami kento, ryoumen sukuna.
★ formatting. headcanons.
★ notes. established relationships, gn! reader, silliness. THIS ISN'T SMUT.
꒰— ๑ author’s note. *takes said peacock and names it vil schoenheit the 2nd and kisses it on the forehead* hey hi hello!! so happy to see u back in my inbox. ^_^ YOU REQUESTED NANAMI THIS TIME YIPPPIIIEEEE !!!!! ik you tell me to take it slow if i need to (and i appreciate you sm for that <3), but i always feel bad when i don't get these out to you in a timely manner :(( and i have terrible time management skills ok enjoy MWAH !!꒱
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★彡 RYOUMEN SUKUNA.
“Remove your teeth from my cheek before I kill you, you rabid little brat. I have enough to deal with just putting up with your antics.”
He wants you so bad.
I promise he actually loves you. He just doesn’t know what he’s doing sometimes. And, to be fair, you’ve thrown him for a loop with this one.
One of Sukuna’s favorite ways to greet you is to pinch your cheek (he won’t pinch too hard — just until you start to complain), so consider this his karma.
He’s actually much more confused than he lets on.
Does his cheek look like a steamed dumpling to you? It’s not full of meat, you idiot.
When you explain that it was a show of love, he makes a face like you’ve just stepped in dog shit.
“Love is for idiots. Though I suppose that’s a satisfying explanation for you, isn’t it?”
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★彡 SATORU GOJO.
“Ow! Where’d that even come from!? Are you feral or something? Maybe I mistook my sweet, innocent, cute Y/N for a stray cat... Hmph.”
Like the big baby he is, Satoru’s eyes immediately well with tears, and he asks in a whimper why you’re “attacking him.”
Shut up, Gojo.
It’s obvious he’s just acting. You couldn’t hurt him if you tried!
He puts his Infinity up when he sees you go in for the chomp, then cackles when your face gets all squished against the invisible barrier.
“That’s what you get for trying to eat your boyfriend!!”
He can take a few nibbles to his cheek, but you'd better be ready to take some right back.
Satoru fights dirty, though, so expect them to be in random places, just to spook you.
The fat of your upper arm, your fingers, your cheek — he’s an unpredictable little bastard.
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★彡 NANAMI KENTO.
“Give me your phone. I'm limiting your screen time. I don't know which video gave you this idea, but hand it over.”
Please, Y/N, just let him be.
There’s only so much poor Nanami can keep up with when it comes to you. He’s fallen victim to so many challenges and tricks, it’s not even funny.
I’m just kidding. He wouldn’t have committed to you if he didn’t know what he was bargaining for!!
When you bite into his cheek (which took you a lot of courage to do),he takes a moment to sigh, then gives you the meanest side eye you have ever seen.
“My love.”
“Huh?”
“What was that.” It’s not even a question — its a hard statement.
You explain to him that it’s a show of your love! And… that you love him! And… that he shouldn’t be mad, because… because he loves you too! So he can’t get pissed, because the power of love is stronger than—
Another sigh cuts you off, and Nanami opens his hand to take your phone.
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moonlightspencie · 4 months
Text
Asking You to Stay
Chapter 3 of ‘treacherous’
Pairing: Remus Lupin x fem!Reader
Word Count: 3.4k
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A month or so passed, and you found yourself once again at Grimmauld Place, giving into Sirius’s requests for you to hang out with him. You couldn’t blame him for getting lonely, though, and you were more than happy to oblige him.
You were chatting about how annoyed he was that you insisted on keeping your darling cat, as he didn’t necessarily like Dumpling. But you argued back that Dumpling was a perfect angel whenever he wasn’t around. Probably could smell the dog on him or something, you were convinced.
A knock at the front door signaled that the next order meeting was officially beginning. You stand up as Sirius does.
“Am I sticking around while you try to convince them to accept me?”
“Sorry, darling, but I think it’s best that you let me handle this part, yeah?”
You nodded. “Okay. Just don’t let them talk too much crap about me. Especially Snape.”
He snorted a laugh. “Never. You know what?”
“Hm?”
“Remus is still recovering from last night. It’s why he’s not here now. He could probably stand to see a friendly face,” he suggested, though it felt almost more like an instruction.
Regardless, you smiled at him, giving a nod.
“Sounds fine to me. I’m sure he’s not taking care of himself like he should.”
Sirius snorted. “You’re getting the hang of things, aren’t you? Do you know his address?”
“No.”
Sirius nodded, telling you where to apparate to, and which door to knock on. After a brief goodbye, you headed off. As you stood in front of his door, you started adjusting your clothes before convincing yourself it was a little silly to do so. You were merely showing up for a casual visit. He wouldn’t care if your shirt was a little wrinkled or out of place. You let out a breath, raising your hand to knock on the wooden door. He opened it a moment later, his face melting into a softer expression.
“Hey,” you said, standing on his doorstep. “Sirius told me you could probably use a little company while the order is meeting. Hope I’m not intruding.“
He smiled gently. “You could never.”
He welcomed you in, trying to usher you to the kitchen without you noticing his slight limp. He should have known better than to underestimate your observation skills.
“Whoa,” you said, stopping in front of him at the threshold of the kitchen. “What’s going on with you?”
“Nothing,” he said, way too quickly for that matter.
You raised a brow in his direction, not believing him for a second. He deflated.
“Promise, I’ll be fine. Just don’t worry about it.”
You narrowed your eyes, now.
“Remus, telling me not to worry about you is like telling me not to breathe,” you said with an eye-roll. “I know the moon cycles. What happened?”
He let out a breath. “Let’s sit.”
You followed him to the small kitchen table, sitting next to him as he gently lowered himself into his chair.
“I scratched up my leg pretty badly. But I’ve fixed it up well enough. I’ll be fine.”
“Can I see?”
He swallowed, shifting in his seat. “Can you just take my word for it?”
“Not when you’re trying to hide it from me. All that tells me is that it’s worse than you’re letting on,” you stood from your seat. “I’m going to get some things to fix you up properly. I’d appreciate if you had your leg out for me and elevated someplace when I return.”
You were back to your apartment before he could argue to gather your supplies. Remus let out a slow breath, then stood. He looked down at himself, realizing he’d need shorts if he didn’t intend on traumatizing you by sitting around in his underwear. He limped into his bedroom, pulling off his pants and tugging on some shorts that he usually would only wear to bed. They’d had to do for the purposes of you inspecting his leg. He glanced down at the half-assed wrappings around the injury, knowing you’d scold him for it. Too late now.
He hobbled back into his living room, sitting on the couch with his leg extended onto the coffee table. It wasn’t long before you flashed back into his home with a pop.
“Remus?” your voice called from the kitchen.
“In here,” he replied.
He came into view as you rounded the corner, and you smirked at the tattered shorts he wore to bare his leg. The smirk faded just as quickly when you saw how his wrappings laid on his leg.
“You called this well enough?” you said, sitting next to him on the couch.
He huffed. “I knew you’d say that.”
“Good. You’re learning you can’t get away with things,” you said, snorting out a laugh. “Do you mind if I unwrap this?”
You set down all of your things on the coffee table, looking back at his face. He nodded, looking a little nervous. You started unwrapping his leg, grimacing at the severity of it. The scratch started just above his knee and extended halfway down his calf. You wondered how he could possibly walk around like this was nothing. You immediately started cleaning around the wounds, muttering small apologies any time you heard a sound from him.
“I’m going to apply an extract that is… I don’t want to say experimental,” you began.
“Do you plan to make this worse for me?” he asked, humor lacing his voice.
“Never. But, it won’t feel great as it works it’s magic. I’ve only used it on small cuts for myself, so this is the first time I’ll be trying it on something more severe,” you explained, glancing at him. “Is that okay with you?”
He nodded. “I trust you.”
“Okay, good,” you said with a breath. “Just… Hang on, okay? It’ll hurt like hell for a moment, but it should help a great deal.”
He nodded, bracing himself with his hands holding to the couch cushions. You pulled out a small cloth, saturating it in the extracted liquid you kept in a small decanter. You once again gave a short apology, though this time in advance, and pressed the wetted cloth to the wounds on his leg. He groaned in protest of the feeling, and you saw his hands holding to the cushions hard as the extract started working. You let the cloth lay over the wound with some pressure from your hand for about a minute before finally pulling it away.
You glanced up at Remus, whose eyes were still squeezed shut, then back at his leg. Well, your extract had certainly worked, at least. You felt satisfied as you set the cloth down on the table.
“Remus,” you called. “Does it still hurt?”
“Not right now. Are you finished?”
“Just about. Would you like to see the results before I wrap it again?”
He opened his eyes, one at a time, looking down at the gash in his leg. His eyes widened in surprise upon seeing that there was no longer a gash.
“How did you—”
“Told you, this extract does miracles.”
“Incredible,” he mumbled, inspecting his leg more closely. “It’s nearly all closed up.”
“Which is great news for me. I was hoping I’d be able to test this sometime before it was needed in the field or in an emergency.”
He smiled at you, “Well, I’m glad my affliction could help your experiment.”
You rolled your eyes playfully, smacking his shoulder.
“Something really cool about this stuff,” you added, holding up the solution, “is that there’s no scarring. Not that your scars aren’t cool as hell, but I figure you might like that you won’t have any more if you don’t want them.”
His eyes widened. “Really?”
“Really.”
He smiled softly, merely nodding as he looked back at his leg. You re-wrapped his leg, this time making sure it was done effectively, being sure to tell him that.
“Thank you,” he said, leaning back into the couch.
“Of course. Besides the leg, how are you feeling? You look exhausted.”
He nodded. “I am. It certainly takes its toll mentally, the transformation.”
“Can I make you some tea? Or… Well, is there anything that would help you get some rest?”
He shook his head. “No, but that’s alright. I should be feeling better tomorrow.”
You hummed, looking around the room. He had a full bookshelf, and plenty of photos around the room. It was when you noticed his record player that your interest was piqued.
“How about some music?” you asked.
He smiled, his eyes closing as his head lolled back.
“I wouldn’t be opposed.”
You stood quickly, pulling out an instrumental album that looked familiar. You put the record in it’s place, dropping the needle. Once it started playing, you adjusted the volume a bit, then wandered to his bookshelf. He watched as you looked at each spine with only one eye open, curious to see what you’d choose, if anything. You scoured the shelf, seeing several titles that looked enticing, but ultimately deciding on a poetry book that looked fairly well-loved. You pulled the book out, inspecting it quickly.
“You read this often?” you asked, turning to show him the book you held.
He nodded. “I used to. It’s been a while.”
“Do you mind if I—”
“Not at all.”
You smiled softly, wandering back to the couch as you flipped through some pages. You settled in next to Remus once again, and he looked over your shoulder as you tried to decide on a good place to start.
“Are these all Muggle works?”
“Yes,” he said softly. “I found it in an old shop when I was in my early twenties, and became quite taken with it. It’s a collection of all different kinds of poems by different authors.”
You hummed, landing on a page with a name that almost sounded familiar.
“Auden,” you read the last name. “I feel like I’ve seen that somewhere before.”
“It’s a wonderful little poem,” Remus said, looking at the page. “I’ve always liked that one quite a lot.”
“Would you like me to read it for you?”
He paused, then nodded. “That would be nice.”
“Alright. Close your eyes again. Might as well get some rest while I’m talking, yeah?”
He chuckled softly. “Right.”
You leaned back, right next to him as you started reading over the soft sounds of the record playing.
“Looking up at the stars, I know quite well that, for all they care, I can go to hell, but on earth indifference is the least we have to dread from man or beast. How should we like it were stars to burn with a passion for us we could not return? If equal affection cannot be, let the more loving one be me,” you sighed softly, letting the words wash over you. “Admirer as I think I am of stars that do not give a damn, I cannot, now I see them, say I missed one terribly all day. Were all stars to disappear or die, I should learn to look at an empty sky and feel its total dark sublime, though this might take me a little time.”
You hummed, reading it again silently to yourself.
“That is a lovely poem.”
“One of my favorites in the book,” he replied, his eyes still closed. “Would you mind doing another? You have a lovely reading voice.”
You smiled, fighting the warmth rising in your cheeks. “Of course.”
You chose a few more, reading each one with equal awe at the imagery painted in words. You only stopped when you felt a pressure on your shoulder. You looked down in the middle of reading a particularly long poem, seeing Remus’ head against your shoulder. His breathing came in soft and even, signaling that he’d fallen asleep.
You reached up before you could think about it, brushing some of his hair away from his forehead as he dozed off, smiling softly when he nuzzled into your shoulder a little more as you touched him. You shut the book, leaning your head against his and closing your eyes as his soft breathing washed you in a sense of peace. You smiled to yourself, slowly drifting off yourself.
You waited anxiously the next week for news of whether or not you got into the order. You really hoped so, and for more than one reason.
Obviously it would be nice to join something that is all about fighting on the right side. And you were sure you’d do really well in a role like that, helping not only with the fight, but with patching people up afterwards.
But a secret, much more selfish part of you, just wanted an excuse to spend more time with Remus. After you both woke up on his couch, you had definitely been a little more… close to one another. Especially after you teased him a little for how pink his cheeks got when he woke up with his head on your chest. You met for tea in your apartment twice that week, under the guise of making sure his leg was healing. Even though you both knew it was practically fully healed after the first twenty four hours.
Suffice to say that you were ecstatic when Sirius came knocking on the door of your apartment with a smile and news of your acceptance into the order.
You stepped into Grimmauld Place, following behind Sirius like a lost puppy. It was strange to hear so many voices in the place. You were quite used to it being fairly quiet, with the only upset coming from either Sirius or Remus saying something that got the other worked up. Which, to be fair, was pretty often. But it was nothing like this.
He led you to the dining room, and it was pretty much full. You noticed some familiar faces: Remus, Dumbledore, Moody, Molly and Arthur, and… Snape. You nudged Sirius’ shoulder when you saw him.
“Of course he had to be at my first meeting,” you whispered.
Sirius quirked a brow, a distasteful look on his face as he shrugged. A few heads turned towards you, Snape’s face immediately showing recognition and quite a bit of surprise.
“Everyone, our newest member,” Sirius began, shoving you in front of him a bit, announcing your name to everyone who didn’t know you.
You got some smiles from those you knew, and some questioning looks from those who didn’t.
“Ah,” Dumbledore said kindly, standing from his seat. “It’s nice to see you again. I didn’t expect you to join us, but it was quite the pleasant surprise when we received news from Sirius that you’d shown interest.”
“Nice to see you again, too, sir,” you said plainly, giving him a small smile.
He turned to others at the table. “As some of you may recall, Y/N always had a special affinity for herbology. She’s quite talented, and has volunteered not only to join us on missions when they arise, but also to work as a healer of sorts for us. She specializes in medicinal herbs and plants.”
You received a warm smile from both Molly and Arthur, and a little grin of approval from Remus as the others nodded their heads to what Dumbledore had told them.
“Come along, dear,” Sirius said quietly, pulling out a chair for you next to a woman you’d never seen. “Tonks! How are you?”
You looked at the woman as Sirius did, and she smiled brightly. “Better than ever.”
“You’ve met our newest member?”
“No,” she shook her head, holding out a hand to shake. “Nice to meet you. Name’s Tonks.”
You smiled, shaking her hand and introducing yourself. “It’s nice to meet you. Cool hair.”
She reached up, running a hand through the pink locks with a smirk. “Thanks. You know, you’re awfully cute…”
“Careful,” Sirius started. “Don’t want to flirt with Mooney’s girl too much.”
“Oi!” you exclaimed. “Cut that out.”
“Ah, that’s a shame,” she said before you could scold Sirius further. “Always gotta like the straight girls.”
“Well, nobody said she was…”
“Sirius. May I remind you that you are not running a dating service,” you said quickly, quirking a brow.
He rolled his eyes, leaning back in his seat just as Dumbledore started the meeting officially. You smacked him gently on the chest, receiving a playful smile and a more appropriate sitting position as a result.
You listened intently as Dumbledore updated you all on the most recent missions and other pertinent information. Though, as he started assigning missions to people who weren’t you, you took the chance to look around the table. You tried to commit a few names and faces to memory, though you knew you’d probably forget them within the hour until you actually spoke to them. You finally caught Remus’ eye as your gaze drifted across from where you and Sirius sat, and he flashed you a small smile in response. One that, unfortunately, didn’t go unnoticed. Though this time, the nudging of your arm came from your right side.
“Lucky guy,” Tonks said quietly, giving you a cheeky smirk before glancing at Remus, who still had his eyes on you.
You merely rolled your eyes with a smile, tuning back into the meeting. You glanced at him once more, both of you turning away with shy smiles when you made eye contact again. And every other time your gazes met in the middle during the meeting.
As soon as it was over, you stood, determined to get some tea to calm your nerves. It wasn’t necessarily that you were terribly anxious about the meeting or the subject matter… it was just quite overwhelming to take in all that information at once. Not to mention that it all happened in a house you’d grown accustomed to being fairly quiet.
You stood in the kitchen, waiting for the kettle to whistle, when you heard footsteps approaching. You turned, seeing a familiar pink-haired woman standing in the doorway.
“Tea?” You offer.
She nods quickly. “Yes. Please.”
You get an extra cup from the cupboard, setting it next to yours before she comes into view again, this time much closer.
“So… Lupin?”
You glanced sideways at her. “Have you been talking with Sirius?”
She laughed softly. “A little. But I also have a fully functional pair of eyes.”
“Nothing’s happening between us, I can assure you,” you smile back a little bit.
“Sure,” she says sarcastically. “And I didn’t try flirting with you the second you sat at the table today. You know, I can’t blame you. And I’m not judging. He’s cute. It’s a shame I’m gay or else I might have approached him myself.”
You laughed at that, shaking your head. “Come on.”
“Seriously. I checked him out when I first saw him, I won’t lie,” she holds her hands up in surrender. “And for the record, I think you two would be cute. You can’t be much younger than me, can you?”
“How old are you?”
“23.”
“Yeah, just about the same age, then. What are the chances?”
She smiled. “You’re sure you’re really his girl? Cause…”
You sighed with a smile. “If things don’t happen between me and him, I’ll hit you up.”
“Great. I hope it crashes and burns.”
“Right,” you laugh heartily. “Nothing has happened yet, but… And don’t you dare tell Sirius this, but I do really like him. He’s just… So sweet. Very different from most of the men I know. He likes old records and poetry and he’s so sweet and soft-spoken without being a total doormat. I don’t know. I just think he’s wonderful.”
She smiled softly, tilting her head, watching as I poured the tea. “Sounds like you’ve got it pretty bad.”
“Unfortunately I think you might be right in that.”
She nudged your shoulder. “It’s not so unfortunate, you know? He clearly likes you too.”
“I don’t know.”
“I do,” she said proudly. “I’m great at reading people. He definitely likes you.”
You handed her her tea wordlessly, sipping on your own. She shook her head with a small smile.
“You’re both stubborn as mules, too,” she laughed. “You’d be perfect together.”
Sirius poked his head in a moment later, giving you both a cheeky smile.
“Just what are you two ladies talking about?”
“Boy troubles,” Tonks said quickly.
Sirius quirked a brow, and you smacked her arm. They both laughed at you for that.
“Anything to do with our Mooney?” Sirius asked.
You laughed, hiding your face behind your mug. “Shut up.”
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captain-mj · 1 year
Note
Imagine if Graves started to call Price absolutely ridiculous pet names(Pookie bear, Snuggles, Doodlebug, etc.) To get on his nerves, but Price secretly starts to like it. Then Graves just randomly stops and Price corners him asking him why he stopped.
Time to push my Cajun Graves onto everyone.
“Can you pass me that, dumpling?”
Price almost died. Right then and there. In front of everyone.
The entire 141 finally made quiet.
“I’m sorry?”
“I said can you pass me that?” Graves looked mildly annoyed. Farah and Ghost were exchanging looks to make sure they both heard it.
Price chalked it up to mishearing until the item, a mug, was in Graves’s hand.
“Thank you, dumpling.”
The reaction was immediate. Soap coughed so hard his face turned red. Gaz stared at them. Ghost had his face on the table but it wasn’t clear if he was laughing or crying.
Graves poured the coffee into the mug and made the escape before anyone could manage to get words.
Price just stared at where Graves was.
Dumpling??
-
For a while, it seemed to have stopped. No big deal. Probably just Graves in a silly mood.
Price was talking about how Brandy was made after Graves asked. He had a feeling he was just humoring his interests, but Price knew Graves didn't like talking that much, so they both got something out of it.
"Stud muffin, I really don't get how you remember all this stuff." Graves's accent thickened when he said that.
Price paused, just staring at him for a minute. Like before, it mostly caught him off guard, not made him upset.
"What did you call me?"
"Stud muffin. American phrase." Graves smiled at him. "So about the distilling."
"What does it mean?"
"It's just a nickname, John. What else were you going to say?"
Price couldn't remember, feeling more flustered than usual. He ended up picking a random spot and guessing by the way Graves smirked, it was the wrong one.
While Graves was away, he looked it up.
stud·muf·fin
/ˈstədˌməf(ə)n/
a man perceived as sexually attractive, typically one with well-developed muscles.
Price felt his face heat up even more. He had learned from Alex that dumpling was just a term of endearment, but stud muffin seemed substantially more flirty.
And in public!
While they were getting in the car, Graves leaned into him. "Thanks for the night out, Doodlebug."
Price's internal monologue was just screaming. "Any... Any um..." He took a deep breath. "Anytime."
Graves laughed a little.
-
The next one. The next one Price already knew.
"Ain't you a Casanova." Every time. Every time Graves used one of these godforsaken nicknames, his accent dripped in his voice like honey and Price wanted to drown in it. Normally, Graves kept it carefully tamped down, trying to sound professional and neutral. Price would be a liar if he ever said he didn't absolutely love his voice.
Price found himself just staring again.
Graves stared back at him for a minute, still smiling but there was a bit of tension to his shoulders.
"Yes." Price said slowly and Graves laughed hard.
"I love you so much, beau." This nickname, Price was more than familiar with. It meant handsome in French and Graves used it pretty often.
"I love you too, honey?" Price said the nickname like a question and Graves's lips pursed slightly.
-
The next time, they were in bed. More precisely, Price was in Graves. It was slow, lazy sex, more kissing than thrusting between them.
"Oh, Lover boy, don't know how I managed without you." Graves mumbled above him, moving to straddle him.
Once again, sirens in Price's brain. He felt so flustered suddenly and at a loss for words. Graves didn't seem to notice, continuing to move.
Once they were done, Price hugged him to his chest.
Lover boy might be his favorite yet. Though, that may just be because of how Graves says it. Or what Graves said it with. Or anything.
Price held Graves tight so he wouldn't look up and see how red he was.
-
He stopped. Two weeks and no one new nicknames. No reappearance of any of the old ones either. Price was back to strictly being sweetheart and if it was special occasion, beau.
"I can't fucking live like this." He groaned into his pillows. Just the thought of Graves's voice, calling him those nicknames, made him melt. They were all so damn cute and Graves was so fucking cute and...
Price stood up and went to find him. He ended up cornering him in the hallway, watching him press against the wall.
"Everything alright, John?"
"You stopped using the nicknames. The cute southern ones."
Graves looked surprised before blushing. "Ah. Yes. I..."
"Why?"
"Well... I only really did them to tease you... But you didn't seem to like them so I stopped."
Price stared at him.
"You're doing it again! When you just look at me and you don't talk. I thought you didn't like them so I stopped!"
"I like them. A lot."
"Oh." Graves stared up at him. "Which one was your favorite?"
"Lover boy." No hesitation. "I thought it was cute..."
Graves laughed softly. "You were so dramatic. I thought you were going to rip my head off, pumpkin."
"I also like when you use your accent. It sounds pretty." Price pressed against him, trapping him. "Use it more."
"That an order lover boy?"
"It is, stud muffin."
Graves clearly shut down, having almost the same reaction Price did. Hearing that phrase in his british accent made his thoughts go fuzzy.
Price left before his brain started working again.
"God I love that man."
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