Random thought that I want to share. Okay here goes. While Bruce loves seeing Batmom in lingerie and lace he absolutely loves seeing her in her comfortable underwear, no bra oversized T-shirt and natural hair in a pineapple. It just turns him on even more 
Warnings: There's not smut but it's a little steamy
Word Count: 0.7k
"Bruce, are you listening to me?" The answer was no. He was not listening. He couldn't even pretend to be listening. How could he when his wife sat in the middle of their bed in nothing but a pair of underwear and one of his old Wayne Tech t-shirts? This in combination with her tight coils being put up into a pile on top of her head was a dangerous combination for Bruce.
"Would you believe me if I said yes?" He asked, sitting at the foot of the bed. He felt Y/N crawl behind him before wrapping her arms around his neck.
"No," She said, placing a kiss on his stubbled cheek. He smiled softly and leaned into her touch. Something about her relaxed him and he was forever grateful for her.
"Okay, I wasn't. What's happened today?" He asked with sincerity in his tone. She hummed in approval of her husband paying attention to her. She started explaining to him how she checked on the various charities they ran before spending the rest of the day with Thomas, Martha, and Alfred.
"Your kids gave me a run for your money. I thought the twins teasing phase was bad, but now, I'm constantly running behind them," She admitted. It was true, the twins were little terrors except with Damian. For some reason, he was the only one that could keep them in line.
"I'm sorry. They'll grow out of it. We can always ask one of the boys to come in town for a week to help out," Bruce offered, tilting his head slightly so that he could look his wife in her face. Every day he was reminded how lucky he was to have her.
"I know but I don't want them to feel like they have to help. Bruce?" Y/N noticed her husband had a dreamy look in his eye. It was rare and reserved just for moments with them. His eyes always softened looking at her, it was like he had forgotten how cruel the world had been to him.
"Hmm?" He hummed, his steel blue eyes never once drifted from her face.
"Nope, I know that look. Uh-uh, you aren't putting another one of your big-headed babies in me," She spoke with certainty as she released her husband from her grasp. She slid back towards the headboard of their bed and crossed her arms. To Bruce, this only highlighted the fact that she wasn't wearing a bra. Good to know, he thought to himself.
"First of all, why are they always my kids? And what look?" He knew exactly what she was referring to. He began to make his way to her until he could lay with his head on her thighs. She ran a hand through his damp hair, raking her nails against his scalp.
"That look is how we ended up with Martha and Alfred in the first place." She reminded him.
"No, that was my Gotham University shirt, the knee-high socks, and the goddess braids," Of course, Bruce remembered her exact outfit when their twins were conceived. What kind of husband would he be if he didn't?
"Bruce!" She jokingly hit his shoulder. Memories flooded back from that night so many years ago. If she remembered correctly, the two of them had discovered a new position.
"What? I'm being honest. Now let me take care of my wife, please," He rolled over to his stomach and placed himself between her legs before pressing a small kiss to the center of her underwear.
"Bruce?" She shifted her hips lower to put her pussy directly in front of him. He nipped at her panties and pulled them down her thighs, nearly throwing them out of the room. He grinned as she spread her legs a bit more.
"I'll pull out," Lie. He'd simply make it so she'd be begging for him to finish inside of her. The only thing that was more exciting to him than her in his clothing was the thought of her being pregnant with his child.
Taglist: @flyestvenustrap@megamindsecretlair@blxckdesire@prettyvintageafternoon@lilbanas@certifiedloverwoman@melissa-ashe @hoyoooo
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art by @/yunonoai on twitter and tiktok
I cropped each of the panels
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Crybaby ˖ ࣪⊹
K. TSUKISHIMA x Fem!reader ˖ ࣪⊹
Sum: Kei hated it how easily he let the team get to his head. What did they know, she was his crybaby after all.
Warnings: none, fluff, crybaby coded reader, kei being love sick, occ kei(kinda)!not proofread Tho reader is blk coded I hope everyone enjoys!
.˚₊‧ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ‧₊˚.
It was wierd the team thought as they watched their middle blocker standing in front of a girl with a tear stained face. Of course their first thought is he made her cry, but that was not the case. They couldn’t help but watch as this happened multiple times before practice until Kageyama said something.
“Who’s that crybaby you stand with after practice?” He asked making Tsukishima stop tying his shoe immediately glaring up at the setter.
“Yeah making pretty girls cry huh Tsukishima!” Noya yelled pushing the blondes head.
Kei leaned up pushing Nishinoya off him “No I’m not, and don’t fucking call her a crybaby.” He spoke making eye contact with Kageyama.
“Why is she your girlfriend?” Kageyama scoffed.
“Yeah she is jackass.” A lot of the team definitely was not expecting that answer out of him. Tsukishima with a girl who’s known for being whinny, with as little patience as they know Tsukishima has she’s his girlfriend.
“No way! How is that pretty girl going out with a bully like you!” Hinata shouted.
Because he was soft with that pretty girl. Of course kei teased her for crying easily and over the most stupidest things but he was alway there to comfort her if needed. His hand squishing her tear stained face tell her it’s all right and not to be dramatic, but earns a punch for call her dramatic.
But it didn’t matter what the team thought of them, because they honestly held heavy doubts, that maybe he was to harsh with her or even mean. He didn’t think he was and she never said anything. She would right if his words ever hurt her she’d speak up. Right?
His eyes looked over to her as they walked through the night market hand in hand, a smile on her glossy lips as she looked around the food trucks. He hated that he could tell him self that he didn’t care what others thought but it did, it bothered him a lot. Was he the reason she cried sometimes, that his snotty remarks actually hurt her feelings. How could he do that to her. How could he make her cry what kind of boyfriend was he if he made her cry.
“Kei..”
He made her hurt didn’t he? The reason her pretty face was always wet with tears?
“Kei!”
He blinked. “Yo are ya with me!” She laughed waving her hand in front of his face. “Am i distracting you” she teased.
“Tsk- no you’re not.” He scoffed.
“Booo! But anyways what has you all airheaded?” She asked tilting her head slightly her braids moving to the side with her motion.
“Nothing.” He hummed.
She pressed her lips together squinting at her boyfriend, his eyes staring into her dark ones. “Will you quite that.” He asked a small smile appearing in his face as his hand pushed her face away.
Even with the moments they shared, he continued to let it eat at him. They moved to a more secluded area sitting on the grass food in hand. He watched her as she ate, and talked, about anything and everything. He just listened, as she went on, smiling at small things she said.
How did he get so lucky.. a polar opposite that didn’t annoy him. Her melanin skin glowing under the street light as they ate her smile wide and so bright. Kei let his hand fall into his hand as she continued talking admiring her.
“So are you gonna tell me what’s wrong.” She asked.
“Hm?”
She looked up as him her smile going away “what’s going through your head, I know better.” She did she knew him, mind you he hadn’t made any comment on what she was talking about nothing not even a snarky remark teasing her.
“So what is it baby?” She spoke leaning back in her hands.
He looked away from her gaze “nothing just something stupid.” He sighed closing his eyes.
He could feel her roll her eyes, the sound of her body shifting her now sitting right in-front of him. The feeling of her hands holding his face made him open his eyes.
“It’s nothikng don’t worry your tiny little head about it.” He spoke softly.
“Don’t lie what is it Kei? You know you have to talk to me to.” She spoke her brows frowning, don’t do that he thought.
“I understand but it’s nothing just letting people get to me head alright?” He spoke his hand squishing her cheeks her hands not yet leaving his face.
“Who? Is it about you-“
“It’s about us.”
She looked at him “bad things?”
He shrugged his shoulders “I guess..”
Her hands left his face, letting herself get comfortable on his lap her face close to his. “Tell me baby..”
He only looked at her for a moment his eyes looking at her lips then back to her eyes. “Do I ever make you sad?”
She tilted her head giving him an are you crazy look. “See I told you it was stupid.” He huffed.
“Why would people thing that, are they saying that?”
“Yes.” He groaned his head falling into her shoulder.
“Why?” She laughed.
He shot back pinching her cheeks “because you’re a crybaby!” He scoffed.
“Nuh uh!” She whined.
“Yuh huh!” He laughed.
Letting go of her face he watched her pout “I’m not a cry baby just open with my emotions!” She sassed.
“Uh huh sure you crybaby.” He spoke his hands resting in her hips.
“But it’s okay, you’re my crybaby.”
She smiled “shut up that’s so lame!” She scoffed pushing him.
“I thought it was good.”
“Lame!” She laughed.
“Yeah then why are you laughing you idiot!”
“Because that was cringy and stupid nothing my boyfriend would ever say.” She groaned her laughter causing him to smile.
“Whatever you idiot I can be romantic.” He said.
“Yeah I know you can but with actions not so much words.”
He scoffed “really!”
She hummed crossing her arms, making his eyes twitch “get off of me, that irritated me.”He spoke pushing her.
“Whatever! You love it.” She said getting back in his face.
He only raised a brow, “ya know ya do.” She whispered leaning on her hands, their lips grazing against one another.
“Want me to kiss you sweetheart?” He asked.
She grinned “I should be asking you that sir, you’ve been looking at me lips all evening.” She hummed.
He let her get closer their lips barely touching befor pulling away, “UGH! Why do you do that!” She whined.
“You gave me attitude.” He shrugged a grin on his face.
He watched as she fell back dramatically “you hate me!” She groaned.
“Mmhm sure do.” She sighs looking down at her smiling at her dramatic pose.
He let her complain a bit more befor leaning down kissing her lips. Only to be pulled by her for a real kiss. “Feel better…” he whispered a little breathless.
“Alway fee better when you’re here with me.” She said pushing his glasses up.
Yeah they didn’t know shit about them. He’d never hurt her, he never wanted to. She would be the only one to get true kindness out of him. Because he couldn’t afford losing her.
Req are open!!! (Plz send something I’m desperate 😞)
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me and my boys
featuring my newest gojo commision
all commissions by @neorukixart
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Love Bites
You gave Toji Fushiguro a sweet tooth he doesn't want to get rid of.
Baker Fem Reader x Toji Fushiguro
word ct: 15.1k, 11 Chapters
Preview: Down the street Toji finally gets in his car and closes himself off from the nipping cold. He glances at the boxes of treats in the passenger seat and wonders what he would do with them. He doubts that Megumi would like them when they meet later today, so he would have to drop them off to the white haired freak he works with. He sighs and looks down at the scalding cup in his hand. He takes a sip and grimaces from the taste.
“This is liquid fucking sugar,” he grumbles, but he doesn’t stop drinking it slowly through his drive. Toji figures he can continue to go to the bakery until he finally gets something that he likes.
A/N: Fluff, grumpy x sunshine, found family, a little angsty but nothing too bad, marriage proposal, established relationship, (last chapter only: kitchen sex, creampie, oral- fem receiving)
Keeping my promise and slowly trying to bring my longer fics from ao3 over here. This was a short story that I wrote over the holidays. It's v fluffy and sweet, please enjoy!
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Chapter One: Apple Cinnamon Spice
“Thanks for stopping by. Tell your mom I said hey, okay?” You watch the young man leave with a box of cookies and wipe your hand clean. You turn away to tend to the oven beeping in the kitchen, placing the hot racks of muffins on the top of the cooling tray to drag out in the front, then grabbing the bottom trays to put in the out on display. Your glasses constantly slip down your nose and you make a mental note to get them tightened
You move diligently in and out of the kitchen, the door constantly swinging from your movements, and you don't even notice the brooding man who has been watching you on the other side of the counter for at least a minute now. It isn’t until he moves and blocks the sunlight that is pouring in that you notice his presence and jump.
“Oh my goodness I didn't even hear you come in! Welcome to our bakery! I don’t think I’ve seen you before,” you start, putting on your friendliest smile you can muster up. You push your glasses up again and get a better look at the man. He doesn’t speak, but you notice his sharp features and the side of his lip that has a scar running through it twitches ever so slightly.
“I could start you off with our classic double fudge brownies?”
He stares passively at you, making you falter. “Okay, how about our seasonal treats? We have caramel pumpkin cookies! Or how about our maple pecan mini pies?”
“‘We… Our’,” he says, finally speaking up as you nervously grip the counter. “It’s just you.”
“Is that a question?”
“An observation.”
“Oh.” You take a closer look at the man and see that his hands have scars on them as well. He was dressed in a suit, no tie and had his jacket on, but that didn’t help your imagination to stay rational. Is he a gangster? you think. My god, Ezra, what did you do?
“How about a drink? We have normal coffees, but right now our apple cinnamon spice is the talk of the town!”
“I’ll take one of each,” he grunts.
“What?”
“Make it two of each,” his finger points at the display rack and the display at his knees. “Give me everything.”
“Oh. O-okay. Do you want a drink with that?”
“The one that you mentioned.”
“The apple cinnamon spice latte?” You ask incredulously.
He grunts again and that’s all the confirmation you were going to get. “Can I have a name for this order?”
“…Toji.”
“Thank you Mr. Toji,” you beam at him and his lip twitches again. “I’ll get your order out soon enough.”
You quickly gather all his food, making sure to pick the best cookies and sweets you can find but still feel like it wasn’t good enough. You had filled up three boxes with treats before you finally completed his order, and then rushed over to make his drink.
“Make it real hot for me,” he grumbles behind you. You look over her shoulder and nod, but it doesn’t get another response out of him. You ring up his order, absently pushing up your glasses, waiting patiently for him to pay. He hands you a roll of cash and your eyes widen in surprise.
“That’s way too much, sir. You only owe me 61.75.”
“Share it between you and whoever is supposed to be here with you.”
“It’s just me,” you grimace. “I can’t accept this. However, I can take $61.75.”
Toji stares you down and you can feel your resolve crumbling beneath his gaze. Despite having green eyes, Toji’s were dark and unwavering. You weren’t sure how long you were stuck in his staring contest but he finally relents and hands you a single one hundred dollar bill from the roll.
“Can you break this then?”
“Yes! Yes, I can do that,” you grin and hand Toji back his change, your fingers slightly brushing over his own.
“So cold,” he murmurs and his eyes flicks to yours. Toji takes in the roundness of your face, your big brown eyes that seemed even bigger through the lenses, your full dusty pink lips. Your hair was held in a low bun under a hair net, but he would see a few curls springing through the holes, vying for escape.
“Hmm?”
“My order?” He juts his chin out to the boxes and you scramble to get them for him.
“Right. Sorry! Please, come back soon!” You wave him goodbye as he leaves, watching his broad frame disappear into the street. When you can no longer see him you release a deep breath, deflating behind the counter, all the stress from the interaction leaking out of you.
“I really hope he doesn’t come back again,” you whisper to yourself, but you only have a moment before somebody else walks into the store and your smile stitches itself back on your face.
Down the street Toji finally gets in his car and closes himself off from the nipping cold. He glances at the boxes of treats in the passenger seat and wonders what he would do with them. He doubts that Megumi would like them when they meet later today, so he would have to drop them off to the white haired freak he works with. He sighs and looks down at the scalding cup in his hand. He takes a sip and grimaces from the taste.
“This is liquid fucking sugar,” he grumbles, but he doesn’t stop drinking it slowly through his drive. Toji figures he can continue to go to the bakery until he finally gets something that he likes.
Chapter Two>>>
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Camp Wanderlust, Part 2
Pairing: Camp Counselor!Franklin Saint x Black!Fem!reader / Plus Size reader
Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. Cursing, one use of n-word, kissing, smut. PIV, oral. (female receiving), fingering (female receiving).
Summary: Welcome to Camp Wanderlust! We're so glad you're here! Inner city kids have been granted the opportunity to spend their summer here, getting introduced to a new world. You and Franklin are camp counselors. During the day, you're teaching your kids how to swim but you can't help staring at Franklin's chest. Using the kids to his advantage, he asks you on a date. You weren't sure what to expect, but it was definitely perfect.
Word Count: 7,062k
A/N: I'm sorry this took so long to get out! They are entirely too cute and whew! I need to go lay down now! This is deeply self-indulgent lmfaoooo. Please consider commenting and reblogging to help support writers!
Taglist: @planetblaque @notapradagurl7 @miyuhpapayuh @henneseyhoe @blackerthings @wide-nose-and-wonderful @halfofmysoulsblog @sevikasblackgf @slippinninque @babybratzmaraj @browngirldominion @thecookiebratz @we-outsiiiide @kindofaintrovert @theunsweetenedtruth @theyscreamsannii @kaaliyahsierra @pinkpantheris @blackelysian @sugrcookiiee @hihellogoodbyebruh @softimgyu @neawarren @harmshake @iv0rysoap @ciaqui @amethyst09 @nworbaij @nerdieforpedro
You were having a hard time teaching these damn kids how to swim. Not when Franklin looked like that. Water cascaded down his skin, soaking up the sun, and dripped from his low afro. His swim shorts were a pair of black basketball shorts but it got you thinking about what was underneath those shorts.
It wasn’t like the water hid everything. On none of the guys. And all the girls knew it. You shared a look across the lake with Dana and Jamika. They also stared at their respective men, water dripping from their torso’s as well.
There should be a law against putting this many men and women together in an isolated setting like this and expecting them to behave. How could you? Your mouth turned dry every time Franklin came up for air. The way his eyes would close against the sun and he’d brush the water from his face.
The cool lake water was welcome against the hot, humid air around Camp Wanderlust. It was not enough to cool every inch of you. Your pussy painfully throbbed every time Franklin flexed, smiled, or swam in the lake. You were going to melt soon, the more you paid attention to him.
The girls in your cabin were a mix of those who knew how to swim and who’d never set foot in a pool of water before. Not many chances to go to a pool to learn, or go to the beach when your parents worked long hours and barely got dinner in on time.
The ones who could swim, you had them learning how to float on their backs. The ones who didn’t, you had them learn to get used to the water. It was okay to dunk their heads and get their hair wet. It was okay to let loose and have fun. You would help them with their hair afterwards.
The first part of the morning after breakfast was spent in the water, getting exercises and tiring these kids out. A few days in, they were endless sources of energy and enthusiasm. Warming up to one another as they shared secrets in the cabins. The games between cabins were heating up as everyone took to showing their cabin pride when cheering each other on.
In a few, everyone was going to split up for the water volleyball game. It was going to take place closer to the shore, where the water was more shallow so that no one felt bad about not getting to participate.
“Is Mr. Franklin your boyfriend?”
You coughed as you whipped your head towards one of your kids, Drea, who looked up at you with a goofy grin, one of her front teeth missing.
“What? Why would you ask that?” You asked.
“You keep looking at him. My sister said that girls don’t tell boys they like them. They just stare at them and if the boy isn’t dumb, he’ll come talk to her,” Drea said.
There were just…so many things wrong with that sentence that you didn’t know where to begin. Which was more embarrassing? That you got caught staring at Franklin Saint or that you got caught by a twelve year old?
“That’s one way to do it. Or you could just talk to the boy you like,” you said.
Drea and her friends made a face like that was the worst advice ever. You chuckled. God, were you like this when you were twelve? Probably. The thought of talking to a boy at that age made you violently ill.
You chuckled. “I’ll tell you a secret about boys,” you said. The rest of the girls moved closer as you divulged this secret. They gathered in a semi-circle near you and you couldn’t help pinching yourself.
“Boys are dumb at any age. They are not taught how to talk to girls, thinking they have to be cool all the time. If you like a boy, sometimes you have to come on out and say it,” you said.
The girls shrieked their displeasure at that little nugget, dramatically flopping around in the water. They kicked up water at each other and you playfully joined in, splashing them. As they calmed down, another little girl, Asia, gave you a serious look.
“What if they make fun of us?” She asked.
“Some will. Some may not like you back. And that will hurt, but it’s better to know than twist yourself into knots thinking about it. And if they make fun of you, do you really want to like someone who does that?” You asked.
A chorus of “noooooo” rang through the air and you chuckled.
“So did you tell Mr. Franklin that you liked him?” Drea asked.
You laughed to cover up the nervous bubbles in your belly. You couldn’t even discuss him without falling to pieces. Every night, you two snuck out to the dock for heavy petting and kissing. You never felt more alive than when his hands slipped under your shirt and caressed your back.
“Why do ya’ll think I like him?” You asked. What secrets were written across your face when you thought no one was looking?!
“Your voice gets higher when you’re around him,” one girl spoke up.
“Yeah, and you always giggle when you’re standing next to him!”
“And you’re always poking at each other like my parents!”
You stopped them with a giggle. You held up your hands as your face heated from all the ways you showed that you were very much into Franklin Saint. Were you that obvious? You resisted the urge to check where he was now. You wanted to see more of him with that water dripping from him. You wanted to lick every drop.
A whistle split the air and you turned your attention to the dock. Anne stopped blowing the whistle and lifted a megaphone to her lips. Saved by the whistle.
“Are you all ready for water volleyball?!” Anne screamed. You didn’t know how she and Doug had so much fucking energy in the morning. You wanted to slap the megaphone from her hand just to see if she’d cry or find a way to be happy about that too.
The kids screamed, pumping their little fists. You clapped along with the counselors, eyes finally settling on Franklin. He grinned and gave you a wave. You waved back. Damn, he was too damn delicious.
You tore your eyes away to focus on Anne who explained water volleyball and the rules. It was all about teamwork, blah blah blah. You tuned her out and focused on your kids. They were grinning, open, and excited. It warmed your heart to see.
Anne encouraged everyone to get out of the water so that you could make your way to the other side of the dock, where a net had been erected in the lake. Some counselors were going to keep score, others referees, and others to keep an eye on the kids not playing. This was only the first half of the camp. The other half were doing arts and crafts at the moment before it was their turn after lunch.
You moved your girls out of the lake, helping them onto the shore. Brave souls tried to climb onto the dock, lifting themselves up. It became a competition among the more sporty kids, who could get up the fastest. You ain’t have shit to prove so you walked onto the shore, the sun doing its best to steal the coolness from the lake.
You felt a light hand on your elbow and you nearly tripped from shock. Franklin laughed and caught you, righting you back on your feet. “Literally falling for me, huh?” He asked.
You rolled your eyes and slapped his hands away, gaining distance from him. “You get on my nerves!” You said.
He chuckled and stayed by you to ensure that you didn’t tip over again. “You need to stop scaring me. Sneaking up behind me and stuff.”
The water plastered his shorts to his lean frame and you took a deep gulp at the sight of a certain bulge. Dear god. And that was him after being in the water. What would he look like at full attention?
You cleared your throat and looked behind you to account for your kids. You didn’t need your filthy thoughts plastered all over your face. These nights with Franklin felt like dreams. But you knew they were real. And they were making your thoughts dizzy. Your breath quicken every time you thought back to his mouth on you. His hands on you. You were left burning to a crisp every time you parted and you had to climb into your bed alone. You didn’t expect to feel so intently for him, but you needed him like a bad habit.
Cabin 5 slowly gathered themselves together. Both boys and girls began warming up to each other, finding common interests to talk about like school, Star Wars, or whatever it was that kids were into these days.
They gathered up behind you as Anne called out which cabin was going first. Half from the boys and girls would work together, giving each cabin two chances to win. If it ends up being a tie, then there would be a final showdown.
Your cabin wasn’t up yet, so you watched Cabin 2 go first against Cabin 3. You hung out and watched as the game went underway, Anne excitedly cheering for both sides.
A boy pushed between you and Franklin and you weren’t aware you had been standing so close to each other. “Mr. Franklin? Now would be a good time,” he said.
You looked from the little boy to Franklin. Franklin only smiled. “You right. Ya’ll remember what I told ya’ll?” He asked.
The boys agreed and you turned to face the kids. You looked to the girls, but they looked just as confused as you were.
“Ya’ll not pranking me right? You really think she likes me?” Franklin asked, but his eyes were on you. Nervous, soft giggles escaped you as you tried to puzzle out what Franklin was up to.
Your girls jumped in, enthusiastically answering him with the same bullshit they tossed at you. “What makes ya’ll think he likes me?” You asked, folding your arms across your chest. You wore a modest swimsuit, a two piece that still showed a lot of skin. You suddenly felt exposed. Like they were tap dancing on an insecurity you tried hard to bury.
“He always talks about you. Like how smart you are. He said smart girls are the best girls,” one of the boys answered.
“He said your smile was the cutest he’s ever seen!”
You laughed, staring at Franklin. He clasped his hands behind his back and shrugged, like he was a little embarrassed by the attention but wasn’t going to fight it. “Is that right?” You asked the kids, but looked at him. He smiled softly.
“I also said that you must always compliment a woman whenever you see her. Women are the best thing God blessed us with,” Franklin said.
He was laying it on so thick. And it worked heavenly magic on you. You didn’t take him for a believer in God, much more practical in his approach to life. Forget butterflies, humming birds fluttered in your stomach as you looked at him.
“You supposed to be teaching these kids about the woods!” You said with a laugh.
“I’m teaching them valuable lessons to become strong, young men! Ain’t that right?” Franklin asked.
The kids answered with a yes, jumping up and down and giggling about you two to each other. They were just as bad as the counselors. Middle school really did prepare you for the rest of your life. There was never going to be a moment where people didn’t get downright giddy about two people liking each other.
You couldn’t talk. You were just as bad. You were smitten with Franklin in ways that made your previous crushes pale in comparison.
Franklin stepped closer to you. “You don’t know how badly I wanna kiss you right now,” he said.
“Same,” you admitted. You wanted to push your lips against his and never come up for air. You wanted his hands back around you, holding you, exploring you. Not appropriate to show these kids, so you smiled and looked back at them.
“Did he put you up to this?” You asked.
The boys looked to Franklin for help, confirming your suspicions. “Mr. Franklin! You should ask her on a date! That’s what my dad does when he makes my mom mad,” one of the little boys said.
You laughed, shaking your head. These kids were something else. Treating the two of you like you were a soap opera drama.
“That’s a great idea. Would you like to go on a date with me?” Franklin asked.
“What date would that be?” You asked. Your girls backed you up, oooh’ing and giggling about this playful exchange.
“A gorgeous bonfire, we can share smores and talk,” he said. You were going to interject, that smores and a bonfire was the norm every night. But then he kept going. “Followed by a walk by the lake, to look at the stars. I’ll tell you that every star up there can’t compare to you.”
You gasped, not prepared for that. You stared at him, at his open, hopeful face and you smiled. He had you hook, line, and sinker. How the hell were you going to walk away after three weeks? When this was all over, losing him would break you. You went to separate schools and you both had plans for the future. Plans that didn’t factor in unexpectedly meeting each other.
The girls next to you sighed briefly, looking at Franklin like they were head over heels in love. You got it. You were falling rapidly for him as well. The boys were a bit slower on the take. Some understood, looking to Franklin like he just altered their minds. Some looked at him like he was crazy.
“Then I’d walk you back to your cabin and kiss your hand, and beg for another date,” he finished, that lopsided grin reappearing. “Will you say yes?”
You took a deep breath. Shit. You wouldn’t survive a date like that. You’d be too busy trying to jump his bones.
“Say yes!” Drea said, pushing against your back. The other girls joined her, a round of “say yes” getting louder and disturbing the second round of Cabin 2 versus Cabin 3. The boys jumped in, crowding behind Franklin and turning puppy dog eyes towards you. They clasped their hands in front of them, dropping their chin onto their hands, and poking out their bottom lip.
“I know you taught them that!” You said and giggled.
“Gotta use every advantage I got,” Franklin said.
You shook your head but finally relented. As if you were going to say no. The kids screamed their excitement, and you told them to direct that excitement towards the other cabins. They were supposed to be sizing up their competition, not worried about your love life. And yet…
You looked at Franklin as the kids pushed forward to watch the game. Both teams lost and won a round, so your kids were up next against Cabin 2. You and Franklin got back into the lake, sharing glances and smirks as you walked further in. The water was about waist high for everyone except the guy counselors.
The hell were they putting in the water in the hood? Everyone was fine. Jamika held up a thumbs up for you and you returned the gesture. You and Franklin worked as a team, calling a fair game and tallying up the points. Your cabin won both rounds and went up against cabin 3, for a combined total of three wins.
You, Franklin, and Cabin 5 all celebrated your win out of the lake to make room for Cabin 1 and 4. Their game would be a little shorter since there wouldn’t be an odd team out. Franklin bumped shoulders with you as you walked behind your cabin. They playfully recapped the same games you just witnessed.
“I ain’t get a chance to tell you how good you look in that swimsuit,” Franklin said.
You shushed him, even though the other cabin counselors weren’t near you and the kids were in front of you. Franklin laughed at your antics, shaking his head.
“You are so bad,” you said.
“I had to stay in the water up to my chest just so no one would see something they shouldn’t,” Franklin said, intentionally leaving it up to your imagination. You appreciated him censoring himself, but his words only conjured up filthy images in your mind.
“Do I get to see it later then?” You asked.
Franklin sucked in a sharp breath and you smiled at getting to trip him up for once. “Are you serious?” He asked.
You nodded. Fuck waiting. You didn’t know what you were waiting for. You only knew that kissing him by moonlight was romantic as hell, but you wanted a little more. You wanted to douse this fire in your belly and you needed him to do it. To finally give in to this thing between you. Connecting you.
Franklin grinned. He grabbed your hand and brought it to his lips, kissing the back of it. “Tonight?” He asked.
You smiled. “Tonight.” Tonight, you were going to have sex with Franklin Saint. You were going to faint, but god help you, you needed it.
“Ewww!” One of the boys shrieked. You looked at him and the whole cabin had turned around to see your hand in Franklin’s. Franklin waved them off and dared them to a race towards the cabin. He gave you a last, scorching look before he took off, never telling the boys when to go.
You did the same with your girls, running past them to the cabins to get cleaned up and prepare for lunch.
Franklin sat next to you around the campfire. After getting cleaned up and having lunch, the kids still somehow had energy for arts and crafts. They were learning to build cabins out of popsicle sticks. You and Franklin worked around them, providing supplies where needed and working on one together.
But as the sun finally lost its heat, everyone was tired as hell. You decided to let the girls have free time, free to go to the rec room or get a nap in. You opted for a nap. Shit, you were tired as hell. As well as too keyed up for tonight.
Now, you were around the bonfire, speaking to Anne about the day’s festivities and what the kids liked the most. Some shared their honest experiences, telling Anne that they never thought anything like this existed in the real world. They thought “camp” was something made up for TV shows and movies.
You had to fight off more than a few tears, hearing about kids from broken homes. Kids who didn’t think they’d be able to do something like this. Kids who had to grow up entirely too fast, taking care of their younger siblings and not having any real experiences of their own.
Franklin’s knee routinely knocked against yours throughout the night. Lingering touches whenever he handed you something like smore supplies or a stick. Your body felt entirely too sensitive. Too in tune with his body.
Night time in the woods was dreadfully cold, too at odds with the heat of the day. You were far from cold. Body heated in ways you’d never experienced before. You weren’t a virgin, but fuck, you felt like one sitting next to Franklin. The cold air lifted tiny hairs on your legs and arms. You felt every instance that his body connected with yours.
Nerves tingled everywhere. Your inner thighs too sensitive as you rubbed them together. Was there a way to fast forward through life? You wanted to climb him right here and now.
Anne wound down the night with something a little lighter. She openly admitted that she had no idea what they went through. That made you look at her in a different light. What irritated you most about people like Anne and Doug were that they tried too hard to pretend that they knew what it was like to grow up Black in America.
The fact that she openly admitted that she didn’t…maybe they weren’t too bad, for some white folks too cringey for their own good.
Anne went on to talk about choices and how each kid didn’t get to choose which family they were born into, how they grew up, but they did have a choice in doing better. Doing better in school, not because they’re parents wanted them to, but because they needed to learn. They could choose to go to college like you and Franklin did, find a passion, turn that into a job they could be proud of. It was a little sappy but you saw it sink in to some of these kids.
When Anne was done, she shared one final story about the crazy killer in the woods and that they must never say the name. She pretended to let it slip, but caught herself. The kids joked but they were pooped from the day’s activities. You walked them back to the cabin, your hand tapping against Franklin’s.
He grabbed your hand, free to do so in the dark. No words. Nothing more than his rough hand in yours. And it was everything to you.
At lights out, the girls asked if you were going on your date now. You told them yes and squealed with them about how Franklin asked you. You told them that they shouldn’t settle for anything less. Some of these girls would still fall into the same traps you did as a kid and you hoped to get through to some of them. Cut the trauma off at the pass.
No more girls getting played by fast young boys. You hoped.
You made them promise to behave themselves and you’d tell them all about the date in the morning at breakfast.
You left the cabin and started off for the bridge to the dock. You already told Dana not to wait up for you. As she picked out her afro, she giggled and kicked her feet. She told you that Jamika owed her five dollars now.
“This is just so great!” She squealed earlier when you told her.
You decided to stop fighting these teases. They made you want to punch something, but there wasn’t much to entertain yourselves with. Jamika was still after Jason even though he was trying his hardest to spread himself thin amongst the women. You’d think there would be an even split for everyone, but no, Jason was just greedy.
You made it to the bridge and saw Franklin there, standing, bathed in that silver light that gave him an otherworldly glow. Knowing him these past two weeks, you’d known that he was special. But it was moments like these, before he caught you looking, that you truly felt like he was meant for something bigger, greater.
You told him you were there and he smiled wide, taking your hand and walking towards the dock. The surface of the lake was still, no hint that anyone or anything ever disturbed it. Insects chirped somewhere in the woods, too loud to determine from which direction. The lake was large enough to have a decent walk ahead of you.
Your skin was on fire in anticipation, but Franklin was true to his word. You went for a walk, just the two of you, talking about the future and your plans after college. You asked him what type of business he would get into when he got home. He wasn’t sure just yet, there were so many ideas in his head.
“Every star up there jealous of you right now,” he said. You damn near melted into a puddle at his feet.
He had subtle calluses on his palms that rubbed against your smooth one. He was into some kind of labor and you found that you wanted to learn everything about him. Where he grew up, what he did when he was at home.
“My boys Leon and Kevin are my best friends. Right now? They probably down at the skating rink with everybody else,” he said.
“Do you skate?” You asked.
Franklin took a deep breath and chuckled. “Not well.”
“What? The great and powerful Franklin Saint isn’t good at everything?” You asked.
He laughed and twirled you closer to him, his arm over your shoulder now and your hand still in his. “Not everything. But some things I’m really good at,” he said. He pressed a kiss to your ear, sending shivers down your spine.
“Really good?” You asked, nibbling on his arm.
“Really good,” he whispered in your ear.
Your steps faltered as his deep, sexy voice caressed your ear. You bit back a moan.
Giddiness spread like heat through your body and you looked at Franklin as it seemed to hit him too. You walked a little faster towards the boat house. It was set at one of the edges of the lake, dark, blending in with the woods beyond it.
Franklin hurried you inside, closing the door behind you. It felt like you stepped into another realm, filled with magic and dreams. The sounds were muted inside, the chirping of the woods down to a low simmer.
A boat was smack in the middle of the boathouse, raised on a little platform and tied to a post at the front of the boathouse. The water beneath churned softly, knocking against the wood in a slow rhythmic dance. There were windows inside and it let in the moon’s light, casting long shadows all around.
“This is beautiful! I feel like I’m in a fairytale but it’s just the boathouse,” you said. Your voice was louder inside too. You hadn’t thought you were shouting, but that’s what it sounded like.
“Maybe it’s just you, princess,” Franklin said.
You pursed your lips, not wanting to give him a full corny smile. He smiled though, making you give him one in return. You stepped closer to him, wrapped up in the heat he gave. It rivaled the sun during the day. You wouldn’t mind getting burned by him though. Consumed by him.
Franklin leaned down and kissed you. Soft, gentle kisses that didn’t hint at anything more. There was no need to rush this. You knew that. But you needed his clothes off.
You gripped the edges of his Camp Wanderlust t-shirt but he stilled your hands. He smirked at the questioning look in your eyes. Then he took your hand and led you towards the back. There was a storage area back there to the side, full of tools for fixing the boat. Directly in front was a gate for when it was time to exit this boathouse. On the right side, there was a short ladder that led to a short loft area.
Franklin let you climb up first and you gasped at what you found. There was a wider window there, giving you a perfect glance at the half moon hanging in the sky. The stars twinkled around it and reflected off of the surface of the lake.
There was a pile of thick blankets on the loft floor, piled high with fluffy pillows facing towards the window. You scooted over so that Franklin could get up there too. He smiled when he got up.
“Wish I could’ve seen your face when you saw it,” he said.
“This is…” You didn’t have the words.
“Me and my bunkmate found it not too long ago when we were exploring during down time. We promised not to tell anyone else, otherwise this place would get nasty as hell,” he said.
That was an understatement. If anybody else found out about it, namely Jason’s nasty ass, this place would be a breeding ground for all kinds of gross stuff. The fact that Franklin shared it with you took your breath away.
You were further convinced that Franklin was it for you. He was perfect to share this moment with. Perfect all around. He was sweet, playful, confident in small, quiet ways.
Franklin moved closer until he was right next to you. His hand moved to your cheek, thumb lightly brushing across your cheek. You sighed, pressing your forehead against his. You smiled.
The lull of the water and the soft chirping gave you more than enough music to sway to. You kissed him, closing that distance between you because you couldn’t stand to be apart anymore. He kissed you just as fiercely, holding you close to him.
You went for his shirt again, lifting it off of him. All day, you’d fantasized about running your hands across his chest. Feeling his smooth, dark skin like velvet.
“Are you sure you want to do this? I don’t want to pressure you,” he said.
Silly man. You smiled against his lips and kissed him once more. “Pretty sure this was my idea,” you said. Maybe not the romantic boathouse, but moving beyond just kissing. You needed more. You needed him.
Franklin nodded and resumed his kissing, taking your shirt off. He looked at your breasts held in your bra and his eyes widened like he was staring at something divine. It lit a fire in your core, so hot you were worried that you would be the one to burn him.
His hands skimmed down to your sides, pressing his fingers into your skin. You straddled him, getting on top of him while he leaned back into the pillows. You reached behind you to take off your bra, but your fingers were too clumsy. Shaking too badly from this need.
Franklin sat up and helped you. You giggled. You felt too young yourself, stumbling through your first hookup again. God, you were so awkward. Now held that same kind of wonder. The same kind of delicious journey into the unknown with someone else.
Franklin helped free your breasts and he sucked in a sharp gasp. The cups fell away from you and Franklin slid it from your arms. You expected to be nervous. To be shy and hide yourself. But you were comfortable with him. He made you comfortable.
Franklin looked at you while his lips went to your breasts, suckling on your flesh and placing kisses there. You sighed, scratching at the nape of his neck. He wrapped his arms around you and held you to him while his mouth found your nipples.
“Oh, fuck,” you whispered. His mouth was hot on you, tongue licking at your nipples. Your pussy throbbed, soaking your panties. Each swipe of his tongue made you grind on his crotch. He brought one hand up to squeeze your breast, pucker your nipple so that it was ripe for his attention.
Your nipples beaded under his careful exploration. He switched between them, taking his time with each. You dropped your forehead to his head, lost to this sensation. Of being claimed so thoroughly. Your hookups were far more frenzied, too busy trying to get in and get off.
Franklin was determined to take his time. Your hands roamed across his back. Across his smooth, unblemished skin. You felt cherished in his arms, was that weird?
Franklin moved his hands down to slip beneath your pants, grabbing two handfuls of your ass. He squeezed and you moaned, scooting higher on him even though there was nowhere else to go.
“That pussy ready for me?” He asked. His filthy words were what you needed. You nodded.
“I’m ready for you,” you said.
Franklin smiled, moving his hands between you to tug at the button of your jeans. Your hands unbuttoned his khakis, desperate for that hardening bulge in his pants. You released each other at the same time, hands flying to each other’s crotches.
Your hands wrapped around his dick first and he groaned at the contact. His eyes briefly shut, face twisted in glorious pleasure and pain, before he opened them and looked at you. Your thumb played with the precum beading on the tip of his dick.
He grinned as his fingers found your damp curls and swirled your clit with your arousal. You shared a gasp, both of your mouths dropping open as you played with each other. Silver moonlight danced over his features. He was so damn beautiful it made your chest ache.
“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he said.
You giggled and told him that you were just thinking the same thing. You had to part briefly so that you could maneuver in the loft. You both shed your pants and came back together, you straddling him.
“Like a fucking angel,” he breathed as you got back on top of him.
“You’re the sexiest man on the planet, Franklin Saint,” you told him.
“Hmm, say it again,” he said and grinned. You slapped at his shoulder.
“No,” you said and poked out your tongue. Franklin pretended like he was going to bite it so you did it again and again, retrieving your tongue whenever he got too close.
“It’s not too late to back out if you want,” Franklin said, once more checking in with you. You appreciated him for that. Your past lovers didn’t fucking care as long as they got off.
“I don’t want to stop. Touch me, Franklin,” you whispered and leaned down to catch his lips. His scrumptious, warm lips that made you moan and grind against him. His dick rubbed against your belly, but you needed him inside of you.
“Condom?” You asked.
Franklin smiled. “Not yet,” he said. You weren’t sure what he meant by that before he suddenly flipped you over onto your back. The plush berry blankets warmed your back from where he had been leaning on it.
Franklin kneeled above you and you’d never seen a prettier sight. He kissed along your neck, your chest, returning his attention to your nipples. You writhed and gyrated on the blankets, too out of your skin to vocalize what you needed him to do next. You only knew that you’d break soon.
Sweat gathered on your brow. Your breaths mingled together in the loft area. Franklin moaned and moved lower, kissing your belly. Then he went even lower, pushing your thighs wider to accommodate his shoulders.
He dived in, lapping up your sweet juices. “Fuck, a nigga can drown in here,” he moaned.
“Fuck,” you cried out. Your hands gripped onto his hair, yanking at him as he licked and suckled on you.
Franklin gave you the same love and care he showed to your nipples. He fully explored your pussy, licking around your clit. Licking lower. Spearing his tongue in and out of you like he planned to do with his dick.
The desperate moans leaving you should be embarrassing but were anything but. “Let me hear it, princess,” he moaned into your pussy.
“Fuck! Franklin!” You moaned, thighs tingling unbearably. Your breaths stuttered in your chest. Your stomach hollowing out as your eyes rolled back. Your mouth opened and closed but no words came out. Nothing but those ragged, dry moans leaving you as you finally fell over the edge with one final lick from Franklin’s tongue.
You exploded. Stars blinking behind your eyelids as you came. Your legs shook, held up in the air by Franklin’s shoulders. You moaned, tears stinging your eyes. “Fuuuck,” you dragged out. Tears fell freely now. Your orgasm was so intense, you could barely breathe. Barely think.
Your nails dug into Franklin’s shoulders as he continued eating you out. Continued flicking his tongue across that sensitive little bud that brought you so much pleasure. It danced beneath your skin. Flashed through your core like lightning.
Franklin’s tongue brought you back from the edge, anchoring you so that you found your way home to your body. You gasped and moaned, calming down from something so intense. Franklin kissed up your body, leaving wet tracks on your body.
When he reached your face, he smiled and gently wiped away your tears. He pressed a soft kiss to your mouth. You were too weak to cup his cheek.
“Okay, princess?” He asked.
You nodded. You were more than okay. You were out of this world. You were on another planet. You were soaring through the stars above. But you settled for a nod. You didn’t have a way to convey your feelings in the moment.
“Up for more?” He asked.
“Please,” you rasped. “I need it.”
Franklin smiled and left you long enough to grab his pants. He pulled out a condom. You didn’t know how, why, or where he got it. Only grateful that he did have one and that you’d finally get to give in to this burning desire inside. This hunger for his body, his hands, and to be connected in a way only two people could.
He opened the foil, rolling the condom onto his shaft. You watched as he adjusted the tip, pinching it to give him some room to cum. Thinking about his cum made you clench in desperation. You had cum but it hadn’t satisfied the deeper desire to be filled up. The primal part of you wanted to be claimed in the basest sense of the word.
Franklin kissed you, taking your thoughts back to his lips. His tongue rolled against yours as he positioned himself between your legs. He pushed into a pushup, lined himself up, and slowly fed you his dick.
Your eyes widened, gasping. He shushed you, promising that he’d fit. You dug your nails into him again as he worked himself inside. True to his word, he did fit. Franklin was always true to his word. If he promised something, he meant it.
You groaned, pushing your hips up as he stroked deep within you. “Oh fuck, oh fuck. Oh Franklin,” you moaned.
He looked you in the eye while he stroked, taking in all of your moans and words like he wanted to swallow them down. He groaned, fucking into you, and you surrendered to his sweet lovemaking.
The slow pace. The depth. The kisses in between. Your legs bounced around his waist. He glowed from the moonlight. Fuck. This was perfect. This was so incredibly perfect in so many ways. You could fuck for a thousand years and this would be the one night that you’d always remember. The night where you had a blissful, perfect moment.
“You take my breath away every time I see you. Every time you smile. Every time you laugh. Every moment I spend with you just makes me greedy for more,” Franklin groaned, his deep voice sounding like it was taking all his energy to speak.
“Franklin,” you moaned, tears once more clouding up your vision. “I always seek you out. Wherever I am. I like seeing you from across the room. Knowing that you’re there makes my whole day,” you said.
You felt his dick pulse inside and you moaned at the sensation. “Fuck, don’t say shit like that. I’m trying to last,” he said and chuckled.
You chuckled. “For what?”
“So I can hear them pretty ass moans again,” he said. He leaned to his other side, hitting you from a new angle.
“Oh fuck!” You cried out. This new angle hit your sweet spot and you were clutching him to you, looking to him for that same anchor he provided.
“It’s okay princess, you can cum,” he said with a cocky smirk.
Your tease died on your lips as he commanded your orgasm out of you. You hung onto him while your world went dark again at the edges. You only had eyes for the glowing figure above you.
“Fuck, squeeze that shit,” he groaned.
You squeezed him and clenched around him, moans dripping from your lips like the slick between your thighs. Franklin stroked a few more times before he let himself cum. He halted, balls deep inside, while he came.
His dick pulsed and you scrunched up your face. This was too much. Too much pleasure. Too much.
Franklin sunk down onto his elbow, huffing. You gasped as well, overcome with pleasure and happiness. Tears fell freely from your eyes. That was twice now that he made you cum and cry. You sniffled while you both calmed down.
Franklin didn’t wait too long to roll off of you. He took off the condom with a groan and then returned to snuggle up behind you. He kissed your ear and you sighed into him, burrowing deeper. He pulled one of the blankets on top of you and you warmed up even more.
You grew drowsy as you spoke about anything that came to mind. The camp, the grounds, the stars. Your respective families. Before you drifted off, Franklin suggested that you go back to the cabins. He didn’t want you to get kicked out for his shenanigans even though you agreed to all of this.
You got dressed and looked at each other. Giggles replaced words. He went down first and made sure that you got down okay. Then he walked you to your cabin. You weren’t sure how long you two had been gone, but you knew that you’d be sore and tired in the morning.
And it’d be entirely worth it. You asked for one more kiss, no one more, okay this is the last one, honest. He placed a kiss to your hand.
“Will you go out with me tomorrow night?” He asked. You bit your lip and nodded.
You pressed your lips to his and watched as he walked backward towards his cabin. He pointed for you to go inside so you finally did, back against the door after you closed it.
You wanted to squeal. You wanted to get onto the roof of the cabin and see if you could fly. You knew better though. You didn’t want to wake Dana from her sleep. So you changed clothes and climbed into bed with a goofy ass smile on your lips.
The Secret Franklin Files | Part 1
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You’re Mine Pt.4
I’m in my era where I can produce 2-3 fics a day but I lose motivation within a week 😭 anyway, sorry for the long wait! As you all know there are Yandere themes such as mentions of drugging, murder, drinking and other themes that are not suited for minors or people that can’t handle this. You have been warned! (This fix is not prof read)
part 1 part 2 part 3
The worst thing about this job was the aftermath of missions. The one thing y/n didn’t like was having to stay in one place after getting shot.
The darker toned woman sat down, her leg throbbing. She was just thankful that it stopped bleeding. Unbeknownst to her, y/n’s captain stood around the corner. Y/n had gone on a solo mission, it was completed with no casualties but she did pay the price by getting shot. Although the bullet went straight through, price knew she wouldn’t be on her feet for a few days, maybe even weeks.
Outside he stood holding a sugary treat. Something y/n had told him she liked on their ‘date’. He fiddled with the packaged candy in his hands. Contemplating on going inside of her room, but just as he decided to do so, he heard y/n’s phone ring.
Looking down at her phone y/n saw her father’s contact name. Without waisting any time she answered it, putting it on speaker so she could changer her bandages.
“Hey dad.” Y/n spoke first as she grabbed the roll of bandages and disinfected.
“Y/n, sweetie….are you okay?” He asked. His voice sounding worried. Y/n only brushed it off as him being worried because of her wound. Word travels fast within the military.
“Yes dad….the bullet went through my leg. I should be back on my feet in two weeks or so.” The sound of bandages opening filled the silence as her father didn’t say anything in return. After a few moments he finally spoke up.
“No….thats too long. I’ll have one of my men come get you.” He said in almost a rushed tone.
“My wound isn’t that bad. I’m taking care of it and-“
“Not the wound y/n. I want you to stay away from Price.” General l/n spoke over y/n. Like a commander, barking orders at his subordinates.
“Dad…Price isn’t that bad. He’s can be a little rough around the edges but he’s not bad.” Y/n said as she finished pouring the disinfectant alcohol over the wound.
“Y/n….Price has been looking into you. He’s stalking you. I want you out of that squad immediately.” Y/n furrowed her eyebrows as she hauled her movements. Sure…it was normal to look into someone. Y/n had looked into Price to see what he’d accomplished to get in the role of a captain but that was it. “Dad….thats normal. Maybe I’ve been late to a meeting or-“
“Stop making excuses for that man….ill tell you what. If I get you stone hard proof, you leave that squad with now argument. Okay?”
Y/n sighed as she wrapped her leg. Making sure not to put it on too tight. “Dad, I can’t do that.”
“Why not?”
Y/n paused. She wasn’t sure how he’d react to this. “He’s my soulmate. I found out a while ago and-“
“You don’t think to tell me?” General l/n’s voice was softer this time. He seemed more understanding of the situation. “If I had known I wouldn’t have had made a big fuss.”
“It’s alright. I know you’re only looking out for me.” Y/n replied. As she finished tiring off the bandages.
“I still don’t trust him. My parents were soulmates and my father killed my mother, but you know that already. Don’t drop your guard just because he’s your soulmate.” Y/n’s father started. “Just because he loves you, doesn’t mean he won’t hurt you. Treat him just like any other man you’d come across.”
He was right. Loving someone dosn’t always mean you’re compatible or vise versa. “Okay..”
“Promise me.” General l/n’s voice grew stern.
“I promise.”
“And make sure you carry a gun on your dates.” Y/n’s father advised.
“I already do. No need to remind me.” Y/n said as she rolled her eyes.
“I’m just making sure you’re safe. You’re my only daughter.”
Y/n smiled at that. “I’ll be safe…..” There was a small silence between the two of them until he spoke up. “Alright then. Well I have to get back to work. Don’t cause too much trouble, I love you.”
Y/n laughed as she told him she loved him before he hung up. Sitting in silence, y/n thought about what he said. Even though she brushed it off she couldn’t help but be a bit wary of John.
A knock on her door startled her from her thoughts. Pushing those bad feeling away she called out. “Come in.”
The door opened, revealing John. He was in nothing but a blue shirt and khaki pants. His hand holding up y/n’s favorite sweet treat.
“I…heard you got injured. So I got you this.” He said, holding it up. Y/n’s eyes trailed over to the sweet treat. A grin carved on her face, giving price the green light to step into the room. He closed the door behind him before handing Y/n the sweet treat. Y/n’s fingers wrapped around the packaging. She thanked him with a smile as she tore open the wrapping paper like a child that had just been gifted candy.
“Is the medication working?” Price asked, trying to make small talk as he sat in the chair that was beside Y/n’s bed. He got comfortable in the chair. It was obvious he planned on staying a while.
“Not really.” Y/n said truthfully. “The medicine here dosn’t really work on me.”
John looked at y/n curiously. “Why is that?”
Y/n let out a nervous chuckle, as she leaned back into her pile of pillows that propped her up. “I didn’t grow up in a stable nehiborhood. My parents worked so much that I was sent to live with family members that weren’t so great. I picked up some bad habits if you know what I mean.” Y/n stated. “I’m clean now, but I still have a high tolerance for it.”
John nodded. He didn’t seem disgusted or disappointed. He seemed grateful that y/n told him. “I appreciate you telling me.” He said honestly. Unfortunately for y/n he only appreciated that y/n told him about it so he can up her dosage. If she hadn’t told him then he would have been confused as to why she hadn’t passed out after eating the snack he spiked.
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NEKOMA'S BRAIN | “𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗇𝗄𝗌, 𝖽𝖾𝖺𝗋. 𝗒’𝗄𝗇𝗈𝗐, 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗌𝗍𝗎𝖿𝖿.. 𝗂 𝗀𝗎𝖾𝗌𝗌…”
⚘ précis. ≡ your boyfriend was simply just too lazy to get up and perform his morning routine, and so you decided to do it for him while he’s grumbling in bed, admiring every ounce of your beauty, and blushing over the flirtatious provocations that eludes from those replete lips of yours.
⚘ disclaimers. ≡ black!fem reader x pre-timeskip!kozume kenma, no prns were mentioned, reader possesses island twists, slight swearing, slight suggestive themes, usage of pet names (babe, love, dear, kitty).
⚘ category. ≡ sfw oneshot.
⚘ wc. ≡ 2.4k.
𖦥 m.list. oc.list.
🧷 𝓖entle blues and cockatoos whistled diaphanous warbles to finalize the beat of the pitters on your window, which was caused by the morning shower blooming beneath your sheer beige curtains. The sun’s staggering rays were subdued substantially by Oya’s considerable water, absentmindedly bestowing misfortune upon the ones that surrendered to sleep due to the rain. Thankfully you were quite rejuvenated this morning, as for generally you’d sleep through this kind of weather, or perhaps bask within its merciful amenity with some chamomile honey vanilla tea to accompany you. You were performing much more desired acts, thanks to the obstinacy of your insomniac lover whose truculence may only parrot a child. His infantile mannerisms were only provoked due to the fact that he hasn’t gained enough sleep, and it was either him allowing you to awake him with decency or his loud-mouthed captain (and bestie) to ignite a few more hidden nerves.
As insinuated, this was definitely another one of those domesticated mornings of you readily taking care of your lover, encouraging him with incessant praises and dolly dotings to ensure that his positivity remains durable. He was quite the pessimistic character; quiet yet imbued with terrorizing troubles that manage to whizz through his brain circuits at least thrice an hour. These troubles are temporarily cloaked by the iridescent screens of any device he could get his paws on, however, but that simple action didn’t bode well for the next morning. Leave it to him to lose track of time because of some underground indie game he impulsively bought merely because his favorite YouTuber has played it.
Which leads to these current events — you straddling on a subtly writhing, sloppily clothed male as you struggled to apply the rest of the foaming mask amongst his skin to preserve his epidermis. The male in question currently has his entrusted switch a few centimeters away from his nose, which makes it much more difficult for you to journey your latex-gloved fingers up his bridge. You knew he was wasting time so he could be late for school, stalling you so that he could spend longer mornings with you, and purposely picking at you since he found it rather humorous when you’re miffed with his behavior. Overall, he was both too indolent to perform his usual routine and too invested in the idea of allowing you to help him. He wouldn’t admit such vocally, though.
Vindictively, you forced your four fingers, your pointer and middle, past his cheek bones in order to apply the mask onto his nose, earning a protesting grunt in response. “Babe, stop.. mmmgh, can’t see… mm don’t want to…”
Kenma’s subtly raspy yet entirely euphonic, monotonous voice granted your ears the privilege to thrive again once more; not a single cockatoo in the world could mimic his pretty notes. Even when he’s a little pouty and miffed he still manages to objectively outwit any virtuoso. Rightfully so, you ignored his protests as you readjusted the silk-infused, Yoshi-imprinted bonnet, the one he found on Ebay that matches with the Toad-patterned one on your head, so that you could have more access to his forehead. Finally, with a tenderness only a mother could perform, you caressed his darkened under eyes with the product, painting the empurpled lunates with your fingertips, and finalizing it with amorous care that makes his heart undulate with passion.
“Babe, it burns,” Kenma bellyached sardonically, his auric-glazed stare still hyper-fixated on building a level on Mario Maker that you cannot beat, for he’s still rather salty with the way you swimmingly glide across the levels he creates for you. A very, very humbling and aggravating experience; you believed him being tired is another side of him? Try watching him lose a game over some dumb shit. Or lose in anything he’s passionate about. “Ouch, it stings.. my face stings…” He adds as he squints his leonine eyes gently as subtle tears occurred due to sleep-deprivation. You ignored his obvious acts of stoic melodramatics as you got up from his lap, making your way over to your towel steamer as you tightened your cotton-based robe.
“That means it’s working,” You commented in an overly casual manner that didn’t sit right for Kenma in the slightest, resulting in him scrunching up his face instinctively at your ridiculously flawed logic. You held back an upcoming laugh, knowing that your silly message peeved him a bit as you took one of the steamed facial towels from the warmer, pressed it against your inner arm to check the temperature, and made your way back towards Kenma before returning to the position you were in once before. Rarely, you forget how observant your lover is, for he is the kind of individual who will see but won’t say, so his momentary, intrusive gaze felt almost uncharacteristic.
He always had this staring problem before you even got together, and you believed that he was judging you for a while, until he confessed that he simply found your appearance gorgeous during his romantic confessions. These said confessions were two months prior, so you’re quite adjusted to his antics now. A little bit, at least. You couldn’t help but feel just a bit mushy knowing that he stares when he thinks you look good, which makes you internally scream since he stares at you incessantly. The way a few of your island twists poured past your poorly-worn bonnet which emphasized your contemporary beauty, the way your eyebrows knitted in concentration as you waved the steam away from the towel, or the way you sent him warning glowers each time your pretty eyes caught him pouting over mere inconveniences.
Domesticated mornings are the reason as to why he’s convinced that he’s fallen for you, and that he’s an idiot for not confessing any sooner.
He was torn away from his blush-toned fantasy about you once you folded the towel in a triangular shape before carefully placing it onto his skin, immediately earning a defeated sigh afterwards once he acknowledged that his eyes will also have to be covered. Deciding to not give you any more of a hard time, he finally placed his switch on the bed amongst the other skin care items that were sprawled within the sheets before fluttering his eyes shut. The newfound warmth of the towel brought considerable solace to his nerves, and considerable dreariness in addition to his ample sleepiness. Still, Kenma needed this, truly. This was definitely much preferred than ruining his larynx due to morons in some Call of Duty lobby. Hearing “weak-willed whores” or “sorry ass snowflakes” whizz aggressively past such delicate lips was not the sight to behold at four in the morning. For neither of you, and he was the one that said it.
You began massaging one of his tensed, rough palms as the heated moisture penetrated his skin, opening his pores in order to politely permit the product to submerge within them. He’s always enjoyed your touches, whether they were guileless or lecherous, hence he never truly disliked these mornings. Asking for small acts of affection wasn’t really his strongest suit. The most he’ll perform are insinuations, but you would play dumb until he finally admits that he wants to cuddle for the night. His breathing slowed and faltered, almost as if his respiratory system was off duty, and the arrhythmic cracks of his knuckles joined with the symphonic chorus of the rain and birds.
Kenma’s shoulders tensed a bit once your now bare hands meticulously waltzed alongside of the exposure, which was caused by his oversized, midnight-gray sweater. Eventually, his breathing began to deepen quite a bit, and even occasional, accidental, sonorous moans muffled against the cooling interior of the ivory-hued towel. You couldn’t help but chuckle a little at his state, not to mention that his evident act of fighting back any more upcoming, suggestive sounds.
“Don’t get too comfortable now, love,” You taunted him puckishly; he didn’t know if the towel was inducing his flushed visage or your teasing. In actuality, the poor thing merely didn’t want to confront reality.
“Sorry…” Kenma atoned breathlessly as his thinly arched eyebrows scrunched together in concentration, trying his hardest not to make any other humiliating sounds, but frankly, he couldn’t inure your hands. They were infused with anesthetic restoratives that were bound to mitigate his embarrassment with utter relaxation. Not to mention that your fingers were journeying up his neck, teasingly tracing its peachy exterior while watching his Adam’s apple oscillate in apprehension. Subconsciously, he lifted his head a little to grant you more access, which humored you quite a bit, and you couldn’t hold back your upcoming pokes. While scratching underneath his damp chin, toying with his feline features in a subtle sense, you grinned down at him as he placed his hands on your exposed thighs.
“Awwwh, does the kitty want more rubs? Hm?” You were relentless with your words, impish with your tone, and passionate with your touches; how has he not crawled in a hole and just perished yet? Better yet, why do you proceed to call him the ludicrous sobriquet he asked you not to use on numerous occasions? Not only it’s embarrassing, but conflicting, for he actually enjoys it just a little. With a miffed, disapproving grunt, he felt your fingers itch under his chin as if he was a literal cat, which made him shake his face away in delay.
“Mmh.. Could you please stop calling me that? It’s so embarrassing…” Kenma repeated himself yet again, his movement prompting some slippage from his towel, which granted you a better view of his roseating skin. You took the opportunity to boop the tip of his nose, but you didn’t call him the nickname again. For now, at least. In return to your taunts, he gave your left thigh a harsh pinch, earning a harsh jolt in response. He would always use your over-reactivity to elude situations that he couldn’t control; it’s a bad trait for your ticklish behavior. The harsh pinches on your thigh converted into harsh pokes in your sides, which you were reflectively deflecting until he was simply full on tickling you, potentially frustrating and overwhelming you.
“Ah—fuck! Stop tickling—Eeughh—NO!” You exclaimed through sharp, protesting shrieks and forged laughs to correspond; it was all melodious to his ears. You had the upper hand since you were still straddling him, but he used this as the opportunity to sit up with his hands clasped around your waist, his veins and somewhat muscular structure embedded within his skin protruding a little. You wanted to protest and force him to lay down, for his towel was now off his face and you were now flipped over and pinned against the bed surrounded by numerous products, but he was distracting you with the excessive tickling to the point where you couldn’t formulate words to scold him. “STOP ti-ckling me—it HURTS when you do it! L-Love, pleaseee—”
“That means it’s working,” Kenma mocked you in a sarcastic, playful sneer as he proceeded with his pokes and abrupt tickles, knowing each spot makes you crumble and weaken under his touch. The few liberated, platinum blond strands that escaped from his silk bonnet stuck to his forehead and side of his face due to the water-product mixture he has yet to wipe from his pores. Oddly, his crimsoned face, narrowed-eyed, condescending gaze, and subtle, contented grin embellished his current state; it was like peering at the eclipse each time he smiled. Had you not been fighting for your life at the moment, you would take a moment to take in the fact that you’re quite the fucking winner. Still, you’re positive that you’re still winning, as for now he was casually straddling you, finally giving you a moment to take a breather. Also giving you time to concoct comprehensible sentences and slurs to utilize to curse him out with.
As you were gently panting, he could’ve sworn that the birds weren’t there to begin with, and the rain began to evanesce; this must be the solo of the morning, yes? Your chest rising and falling in a rhythmic manner, you muttering small complaints about him messing up your hair (which he helped pay for), you incapable of not becoming a smiley mess without him giving you an incredulous expression for longer than three seconds, or the way your disarming gaze glinted with seraphic tears he felt destined to wipe away each time they would cascade. While utilizing the towel to carefully dap and wipe away the product from his face, he couldn’t help but feel an incessant ache in his abdomen every time you were just being yourself. Sometimes he hated how much he loved you; he hoped that your feelings corresponded with his every hour.
“Thanks, dear,” Kenma commented absentmindedly, but after processing your confused expression and proneness to asking “huh”, he acknowledged that he actually needed to voice what exactly he was thanking you for without admitting that he was suffocating in kilos of love, which induced his subconscious speech. Awkwardly, he shifted his lower half on your stomach, glancing away for a moment as a hesitant hum eluded him. Although you were always patient for what he was going to say, for he wasn’t the kind of guy to have the patience for his own emotions, it inspired him more to behold a sense of calmness before speaking. Still, at the end of the day, it was still mortifying. “Y’know, for this stuff.. I guess… I-.. yeah…”
You stifled a laugh, earning an immediate pouty glare from him in return, which only caused you to laugh more and more. He knew it wasn’t out of malice, but how could he not blush even further? The prettiest woman in the world granting him his attention like this? Of course it would take this long to admit his love for you; look at you!
“Of course, love. Anything for you,” You spoke, your tone trembling a little since you were still trying not to laugh at his evident struggle. He simply ignored your behavior before snatching up his switch off the bed, bringing his attention back to the level he was destined to make you lose in. The way he quickly became engrossed within the game as if he wasn’t practically gushing over you made you suck your teeth, and the fact that he heard you and decided to silently giggle behind the screen only induced your offense. “Nigga, I’m boutta break that shit one day.”
He struggled responsively before riposting gently yet sarcastically. “And your total will be 20,000 yen once you finish.”
To think he has the nerve to get bold-mouthed even after the song finishes…
yuyinesque | translate with permission & peruse without theft.
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hiiii it's my birthday and I was wondering if I could get a birthday hobie x reader?
hi pumpkin! first off, happy late birthday i hope you had sooooo much fun. so sorry i couldn’t get this to you on your actually birthday. i wanted to, promise! i just had a lot to do but here you go <3 celebrating your birthday w hobie. i’m hoping this makes it through tumblr bc my last drabble about rengoku is not showing up on the dash but it’s on my acc if you’re interested — hoping this is what you wanted | mdni, black fem coded reader, unedited
birthdays came up early in your relationship with hobie, especially considering his came a few months before yours. you found out rather quickly that he’s not a big fan of making the day a holiday.
of course, he’ll smile and plant a sweet a kiss on your two-toned lips when you, eventually, pull a tiny, gift wrapped gift out hidden — somewhere new every time — and set it in his hands. you do it every time, even hen he says he doesn’t want a single thing, and it’s always a relatively cheap gift so he doesn’t make a fuss about it. last year, it was a little necklace set from hot topic, modeled after the coraline movie’s stone and key — only $7.95 and thankfully, on sale.
however, your birthdays are different.
they’re important to you and therefore, important to hobie. he cherishes them, staying away from your affection all day while he prepares his boathouse for your arrival. he’ll get balloons and candles for mood lighting, he’ll go to the grocery store and pocket a box of cake mix and whipped icing, he’ll use the sprinkles from the night before. hobie will even chop up fruit and melt chocolate to dip them in later, following the creamy pasta he’s cooked for dinner just in case you didn’t feel like indulging in something as sweet as cake, that night.
that’s not dessert though. the real dessert comes after cuddling on the couch and soaking in the praises that fall from your lips between kisses until your lips are swollen and sheened with saliva. every year, he takes your hand and leads you to his bedroom, where he forces you to close your eyes upon stepping through the door way. you can’t know where his hiding space is. you’re too curious and would end up investigating it in secret later on.
this year, hobie managed to get you the demonia camel-311’s. how he had gotten him through his unconventional methods is unknown to you but you don’t ask, too busy fawning over the smooth, vegan suede beneath your fingertips.
“oh my god, hobie. what the hell?” you say, seated on the end up his disheveled bed, eyes round in grateful astonishment.
hobie’s has always been . . . clean but not tidy. he knows where everything is and you understand that he has a system. the random stacks of albums littered around the room never bothered you, nor did single wall covered with painted doodles parallel to the bed you sit on.
“you like em’, bug?” he drawls, showcasing his prideful smile full of teeth as he watches you go through the motions to react to his grand gift. “i’m mates with this guy who sells em’. looks like something you’d like.” hobie doesn’t bring up the deal he made to do some manual labor instead of paying such a pretty penny for these shoes.
you head rise and falls in a little nod and you set the shoes on the floor, reaching inside to pull out the brown-gray stuffing paper to keep the molding of the shoes.
this persists for a while, your gushing and prattling over the platform boots, warm and perfect for the winter. it’s all a routine part of the night, something you’ve expected — not because you knew what gift he was going to get you, but because he always gets you material gift before and something a little more after.
the after is what you both know you’re really looking forward to, after all the events that slowly passed throughout the night.
“oh my god, hobie!” it’s the same words from earlier but this time, said so much differently. it’s whiney, airy, and provocative. you can’t help it, the sound forced out of your mouth with each snug smack of hobie’s heavy balls against the brown globes of your ass, part of which glisten with the watery cream of your past two orgasms.
hobie plucks your hand slotted against the soft outlines of his abdominal muscles on his stomach. he grins, strained, and rests your palm against his chubby lips. “you g - got it, pretty.” he mumbled into the warm skin of her hands, words muffled on their way to your ears, not that you’re paying attention anyway. “ ‘s your dick, yeah?”
anything he says just comes across as faint buzzing humming in your head. your legs have begun to shake and twitch, muscles stretched and pushed up to your ears. your cunt is on full display, in its brown and chubby glory, squeezing around the length of hobie’s cock with the intent to milk him dry.
your back has long begun to arch off the soft mattress with a balled hand repeatedly making soft contact with his shoulder. you’re struggling to withstand it, writhing beneath his hold. you’re sure you would have wiggled away and up the bed had he not had you anchored in his grip. you’re struggling but you love it, finding yourself delirious with the lust that comes with being fucked within an inch of your life.
“can’t,” you hiccup, tugging at your hand encapsulated by his. you want to draw it back and push him some more but he won’t let you, overpowering your strength with his own. tears form in the outer corners of your eyes and roll down the sides of your face.
you’re rewarded with a firm smack on the chub on your round butt, leaving a stinging sizzle that has you jolting with a gasp. another wave of waterworks comes forward in your eyes. you want to sob but the ability is ripped away when hobie digs his fingers into your mouth, as many as he can until no more can fit and drool is pooling out the corners.
“you’re, god, lyin’, pet. hate that,” he pauses, pressed entirely into your sopping wet cunt, eyeing you with disdain. his fingers press against your soft tongue, eliciting more drool to pull in your mouth. he tilts his head at the sight of you, twitching and eyes blown out.
he can still feel your pussy pulsing greedily, begging for more, and he chuckles, pulling his slob covered fingers out your mouth and taking ahold of your thighs again. “you always say that but you didn’t use your safe word so i know you’re lyin’.”
you sort of just warble, feet dangling in the air. your toes, painted a pretty pink gel polish, curl and straighten with each movement hobie makes, even if it’s just him leaning forward.
“gonna tell me i’m wrong?” hobie’s voice drops into a whisper. he’s close enough for his lips to skim across your cheek, breath warming the surface of your skin.
he’s pleased to see a small shake of your head. “no,” you’re telling him wordlessly, round eyes staring right into his more slanted ones. you’re lucky he’s considered being sweeter on such a day of celebration.
“no? then you’re gonna quit your whinnin’, right?” his hand comes to plant on the round crest of your head, flattening your scalp, frizzy due to the physical activity he’s put you through.
your leg goes to circle around his slim waist, locking his body to yours. “mhm . . . ‘m sorry, ‘bie.” you’re much softer now, more pliant without the constant push and pull inside your sensitive cunt. your circle your hands around his cheeks, brushing your thumb across the smooth, seal brown skin across his face.
the corners of his mouths lift; he finalizes your gentleness with a sloppy kiss on your mouth, wrapping his tongue around yours and sucking it into his mouth. there is stringy saliva connecting the two of you. his hand atop your head serves its purpose when hobie finally begins to move again, thrusting deep in your cunt. it keeps you right where he wants you despite your wriggling.
his other hand supports his weight, jumbling the sheets between his fingers. his head falls onto the bed beside yours and you have a front row seat to the groans and pants he exudes, lost in your body.
every year when your birthday comes around, hobie picks you up, bring you to his house, and showers you in love and affection throughout the night. he makes dinner, lights your birthday candles, and watches any movies of your choice.
every year, he surprises you with a gift he had planned for months and pulls it from his super secret hiding spot. he soaks in your flattery with a grin until you’re done and putting the new gift to use.
and every year, you both wrestle in the sheets, naked bodies connected at the most intimate parts as the air grows thick and heavy with lust. he kisses you through your whines and cries, forcing blinding white orgasms out your body until you’re exhausted and tapping out.
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Carmen: Don’t you do it.
Sydney: …
Sydney: (raises her hands slowly)
Carmen: Don’t you fucking do it, Syd.
Sydney: (trembling, shaking and a single bead of sweat gathers at her temple)
Carmen: if you do it, we will never be the same. I will run after you, and I will catch you.
Sydney: …
Sydney: ✨🍝🤌🏾🇮🇹🤌🏾🍕✨ I cooka da pizza!
Carmen: GOD DAMN IT
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𝑨𝑳𝑳 𝑰𝑺 𝑭𝑨𝑰𝑹 𝑰𝑵 𝑳𝑶𝑽𝑬 𝑨𝑵𝑫 𝑾𝑨𝑹 - 𝐉𝐄𝐀𝐍 𝐊𝐈𝐑𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐈𝐍 𝐗 𝐁𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐊 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑
word count 1.8k
content warning light smut - in fact it’s not even that descriptive🧍🏾♀️
author’s note finally back after so long - i HAVE been writing though and have a story in my back pocket that im excited to drop! :3 this is the story i was looking for beta readers for - i didn’t get any 🧍🏾♀️ so i’m just dropping this first chapter to get interest. if not, i’ll just release a chapter at least weekly! this is also my attempt at mature content, so bear with me as we test this out. my requests are open - so feel free to read my guidelines on my pinned and hit my inbox 😝
synopsis after the rumbling, you found yourself on your feet in your home town. you have a completely new life - you’re watching your country be built again and now you have a fiancé! what happens when a man from your past reaches out to you via letter?
853
His air fills your nose as you press against him. Your breaths are labored from placing your lips where you can, hands frantic.
The adrenaline lowers and you're both back to your senses. Your clothes are scattered everywhere on your bedroom floor. He lowers you onto the bed, his heavy hands resting on your lower back as you arch into the sheets. His lips love on your collarbones and find their way to your belly button. You shudder as he moves lower and lower until that wave of unfamiliar excitement washes over you.
You're breathing heavily as he places kisses all over your face and body. He takes care of you at the end; he makes sure you're clean, warm, and comfortable. You enjoyed your night; never had you thought you'd fall head over heels for a man you met just a few days ago but here you are.
You watched as he went between putting on his clothes and looking for items he was missing. Once he was fully clothed, it finally hit you that he didn't have plans to stay the night. Your body shot up from the bed. "Jean..." Your voice trails off, pleading.
He looks over his shoulder. He finishes his look by putting his fedora on. "You know I'd love to stay...but I have somewhere to be." Regret travels through Jean's voice. He turns away from you, pretending to fix his tie.
His shoulders are tense. He takes a few deep breaths before looking at you once more. "Tonight will be my last night seeing you." The satisfaction from the night immediately vanished. Your confusion is loud. Jean sighs as he continues to straighten himself out. "I can't explain it to you now but within the next few days...months, it'll all make sense..." In the soft candlelight in your bedroom, you can see the sadness in his eyes. You wanted to question him but considering the look on his face, you decide that it's probably best for you not to know.
You can't watch him. Jean opens the front door; under the door frame, he looks at your back. He opens his mouth but closes it instead. There was no point. He'd never see you again.
After his exit, you contemplated the possible explanation for his exit. It all didn't come together until weeks after the new year of 854 when Paradis launched its attack on Marley.
Spring 857
To whom it may concern,
I didn't think it'd be appropriate to address this letter with 'Dear Ms. L/N' considering our history and the events after but I still felt the need to reach out to you.
It's been four years now? Or at least approaching four years, considering our meeting was in the summer.
I owe you an explanation. I am a Subject of Ymir from Paradis Island. At the period that we met, I was on a trip with other Subjects; it was our first time off of the island. We were there, curious about our enemies and how our military forces should move forward. I met you and you know the rest of that story. Other than my constant visits with you, I and a few others sat through countless meetings hearing about how we Subjects couldn't be "cured" or "forgiven" of our crimes.
Meeting you wasn't on my agenda. No one knew about you. During that time. I felt like the world felt like it was crashing down on me and then came you, my short-lived saving grace.
Because of my actions during the Rumbling, my home, Paradis, has outcasted me and considered me a traitor for being one of the pieces that stopped it. I live life as a Peace Ambassador now. I've been all over the place - helping rebuild cities and building connections with refugees who are still working on getting their lives back. I do live in Paradis from time to time. My mother still lives there.
I learned about you from asking around. I'm so grateful that you evaded the Rumbling. I don't know how I would feel if you passed.
Longing to see you,
Jean Kirstein, Alliance Peace Ambassador
Mister Ambassador,
Hi. Thank you for reaching out to me. It's been a very long time and I've struggled. Went from being a woman who traveled regularly to being trapped because of the bombs and titans that were dropped everywhere. I am lucky that I have made it out with my life.
Now that I have a proper explanation, I don't feel as upset as I did seeing your letter in my mailbox. I am glad you are safe for the most part.
I am with someone. Set to be married within the next few months if life in Anahg, or the Southern Nations as the world calls it now, improves slightly more. My fiancé's name is Sebas Abe. Considering that you're from Paradis, I don't know how much you know, but he was an important political figure and diplomat for Hizuru. He was just at the wrong place at the wrong time during, what you call, the Rumbling. He's a part of the rebuilding process here in Anahg but he misses his diplomat job dearly. He loved traveling the world, so he told me.
I'm curious, how is life in Paradis? Considering you're a traitor?
Y/N L/N
Miss L/N,
Beautiful last name. I didn't mean to come on so hard in my first letter. Congratulations on your engagement, you deserve it. I am also sorry about everything you've been through. If you don't mind me asking, what happened on your end? If it's too invasive of a question, I certainly understand. It's just something that peaks my interest considering what I do for work.
Anahg and the rest of the Southern Regions have yet to be touched by our growing alliance. I guess the focus is to rebuild the relationship between Marley and Paradis and gain the trust of other countries that weren't destroyed by the Rumbling.
If your fiancé is still interested in ambassador work, I don't mind putting in the good word for him. I have close connections to those in Hizuru, one of Paradis's allies.
Life on the island is hard. I don't get hassled a lot in my hometown; my mother was an important part of some of our neighbors' lives. I guess they feel wrong treating me differently. But I will say that I feel lonelier. I will never share a barrack, train, or be a part of a military branch again. I'm the age where I'm supposed to be at least courting someone or going out with a small group of friends but with, one, members of the Alliance being so busy and, two, my status as a traitor makes it hard to come across people my age.
I don't leave Trost, my home, to visit other parts of the island unless I really need to. Getting on transportation for work is quicker when no one is interested in speaking to you.
Jean Kirstein, Alliance Peace Ambassador
Mister Ambassador,
Well, if you're so curious, Mr. Ambassador, it's something I'd rather not relive - That's how my experience went. Eren Yeager ruined my life. I don't blame him for being angry; if the whole world was laughing at my existence, I'd bring Hell onto Earth too. But that doesn't take away that my life was taken away. Since then, I'm fortunate enough that I was able to come back home to Anagh, that it's growing once again, and that I have someone by my side. My life isn't the best but it's better than it was days before the Rumbling.
I'm sorry that your community has turned on you that way. Loneliness is one hell of a disease. I'd rather be berated than silently deal with my own sadness. I hope that doesn't sound offensive.
Y/N L/N
Miss L/N,
No, that isn't offensive. I sometimes wish my life was as vocal as my other friends but at the same time, I'm grateful for the dirty looks. I just wish I wasn't so in my head sometimes.
What do you mean your life now is better than the one before the Rumbling? Are you insinuating something in your previous letter? The way I remember it, I sure damn well made those last few days memorable and exciting. Your body told me so itself.
I understand I left suddenly and inappropriately but that doesn't mean you get to dismiss and deny what we had.
I thought about you too many times as I traveled. When I was alone, I thought of you and your silky skin and your pretty lips. Your body against mine.
You could be ignoring my correspondence, for the sake of your dear Sebas, but we both know why you continue to write back.
Jean Kirstein
Fall 857
Mister Ambassador,
I am married now - since the summer.
Leave it in the past, Mr. Ambassador.
Hopefully, you can continue to write me as a friend and not as a lover.
Thank you,
Mrs. Y/N Abe
Dear Mrs. Abe,
Oh, forgive me for defending my honor. I can't have you on the other side of the world trashing my character. I was hurt by my initial assumption - that you haven't confirmed.
Congratulations.
Does your husband still want to work with the Alliance? How is Anahg - from the view of someone living there? There is an opening if your husband is still interested. Negotiations with Marley are taking somewhat of a positive turn. I don't think they're completely on our side but with the help of Hizuru, we'll reach common ground.
I've been courting here and there but nothing's stuck.
I don't mind being your friend, but that also may mean that I'll stop my correspondence.
Jean Kirstein, Alliance Peace Ambassador
Mister Ambassador,
What assumption do I have to confirm? Do you want me to be direct?
Thinking of you reminds me of what followed. The confusion and loss I felt. And the loneliness.
But, Mr. Ambassador Kirstein, ever since you've written me, when my husband is out doing his work and I'm alone, I find myself, regretfully, thinking about you and those nights before you left. And I hate it...and enjoy it. I hate it so much.
I am supposed to be loyal to my husband and yet here you are. What are the odds that you'd reenter my life? And you're not even physically by my side. I crave you. I'd do anything to have you in my proximity one more.
But for the sake of my image and my marriage, leave it in the past.
Mrs. Y/N Abe
Mrs. Abe,
Thank you for your honesty. It truly is a shame that your husband and my work are limitations. If things were in my control, I'd stop writing this letter and would be on my way to Anahg to satisfy you once more. I owe you a proper apology after my absence all these years.
I want to honor you and forget everything happened but it seems impossible now. Can you really go back to your normal life, being Mr. Sebas Abe's wife, after what you've just confessed to me?
Please, call me Jean.
Jean Kirstein, Peace Ambassador
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Ok but bae being Red Hood's social media manager and she makes him a Tiktok acc.
Ooooh imagine if she could make Batman one.
I would die laughing. 😭😭😭🤣🤣🤣
@prettyvintageafternoon
Bruce probably had the intention of using social media to show that the Batfam is not threatening or dangerous to civilians. Somehow it ended up turning into people simping for Red Hood and Nightwing. Red Robin goes on lives sometimes and just chats about conspiracies that he has. Robin posts videos from the Gotham vet to help animals get adopted. Signal and Orphan do what I eat in a day videos. Batgirl (Steph) berates the goons outfits. The account had to get shutdown when Batman recieved one too many thirst comments.
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Stay the Night (Smoker x Reader)
Synopsis: Smoker is surprisingly, bafflingly competent at taking care of you while you're drunk.
Word Count: 2.4k
Tags/Warnings: Alcohol, Intoxication, Alcohol Sickness, Vomiting, Fluff, No Reader Pronouns Explicitly Mentioned (Reader Wears Heels, Makeup, and a Wig), Language, Mildly Suggestive, Two Longtime Friends and Peers who are Clearly in Love with Each Other
Notes: I felt like Smoker was the kind of guy to reluctantly hold your hair back while you're throwing up.
Unlike the rest of his present company, Smoker usually avoided overindulging in elaborately planned social events, especially those with an open bar. It was best to stay out of the way.
The Marines rarely allocated funds to such frivolous occasions, and so most officers and honored guests took it upon themselves to find the bottom of the generously offered bottomless champagne. While the hangovers were never worth it, that didn’t stop even the highest leadership from stumbling out of the ballroom doors with hair tousled and neckties hanging across their shoulders.
Smoker preferred to sit at a table out of the way: a sanctuary among the chaos, away from the main path of foot traffic, with a clear view of the door. That’s where he nursed his single glass of whisky. If he were feeling especially celebratory, he would have two.
You, on the other hand… were already standing on top of a table. Your stilettos were positioned on either side of the floral centerpiece in the middle, and the tiny point of your heels barely allowed you to balance as the bottle in your hands exploded in a loud, crisp pop.
Smoker watched how the sea of Marines that gathered around you in disheveled formalwear cheered, and your hypnotized face admired the bubbles pouring from the bottle's neck.
A group of newly trained officers jumped up and down together in time with the music on the opposite side of the circular table in celebration, knocking some tall glasses over onto the white cloth below. Smoker nearly leaped out of his chair as your knees began to buckle. But even despite your tiny shoes and even tinier dress, you managed to catch yourself. Your laughter resounded loudly among the voices around you.
Smoker heaved a deep sigh, sitting back down, swirling his drink with a flick of his wrist.
He didn’t even need to see that stunt to predict what would come later that night.
The streets were utterly empty. Aside from the glow of the street lamps, the only light that shone was from the venue as the staff hurried their clean up. Smoker strolled out of the double doors, tie loosened around his neck and suit jacket draped neatly over his arm.
He barely had to make it outside before he saw you. Hell, he’d be able to spot that glittery ass anywhere, even without your blinding choice of attire.
You were bent over on your weak knees as you hurled your guts out into a bush. Smoker let out a low, resigned grumble, swiping a hand over his fatigued face as he approached you. You barely registered the large shadow that overtook you, let alone the hands that gingerly and neatly gathered your hair away from your face.
You sputtered, coughing as a few tears streamed from your eyes. The insides of your cheeks were wet and bitter, and your throat burned. You spat onto the ground to get more foul-tasting mucus out of your mouth.
You were a Marine, dammit, and a few too many took you out quicker than any pirate ever did.
“Koby?” you whined. Tears continued to stream from your eyes at the pressure in your sinuses. You spat again. God, something was in your nose.
“Sorry to disappoint, Lieutenant Commander,” Smoker gruffed from where he squatted next to you.
“Don’t call me that,” you whimpered, not wanting to be reminded of your rank during such a state of weakness. Your stomach convulsed, causing your sickness to start again. Smoker’s gaze drifted to the still street like another weekday night. “I’m never gonna drink again.”
“Mh-hmm” was about the only noise you got out of Smoker. He sat patiently and wordless, not one to croon words of assurance at you as you paid for your night of over-indulgence. But for his silence, he continued to pull your hair back, meticulously smoothing the bundle back as best as he could so as not to knot or tug at your stands.
In a moment of relief, you finally turned over to sit on the curb. Despite the extra alcohol emptied from your stomach, you were far from sober. Smoker knelt on one knee in front of you. You could hardly get his face to focus, let alone register the warm jacket he hung across your shoulders.
He took the pocket square from the left breast pocket and unfurled it with a snap of his wrist. Smoker swiped the fabric over your mouth, clearing away saliva and slime. The backs of your fingers knocked against his wrist belatedly as you shook your head.
“‘M gonna fuck up your hankie, Smokey,” you sighed, even though he had already wiped your mouth. He shoved the square roughly into his pocket, paying no mind to you as he heaved you onto your feet. “‘M alright. I can make it home.”
“Like hell, you can.” You stumbled as you tried to step forward, but Smoker caught you around the waist. “These, too. You know the whole street’s cobblestone, right?.” His movements felt incredibly fast to you as he bent down again to slide your shoes off, and with two large fingers hooked around the pinch of your stilettos, Smoker moved to throw you over his shoulder.
“Whoa, whoa, wait…” Your hand flew over your mouth, and the other splayed across Smoker’s right shoulder. He held you at length, studying your face and movements carefully.
“What’s goin’ on?”
You shook your head in small but rapid swivels.
“Can’t do that.” You heaved a deep breath, slowly removing your hand from your mouth.
Smoker grumbled a hum of acknowledgment, pulling his jacket closed over your chest before shepherding you down the street toward your apartment.
You barely remembered the walk, although you were sure your drunken meandering was more than a test of Smoker’s patience. Even so, he hardly said a word, only breaking his silence to ask you where your keys were when you reached your doorstep.
They were in your clutch, which Smoker was holding with your shoes, of course.
As soon as the door opened, you nearly collapsed into your apartment. With Smoker's help, you fell neatly onto the couch by the entrance. He slipped off his boots— no matter how formal the event, Smoker was wearing his combat boots— and disappeared somewhere into your apartment.
You didn’t even care. Your head was so heavy that all you wanted to do was sleep as you slowly sank into your couch cushions.
“Sit back up.” You heard Smoker call sternly from the other room. You didn’t think you could obey him if you wanted to.
In a second, you were being repositioned. The light from the lamp in the corner of the room was sobering and borderline upsetting, but it allowed you to see the small trashcan Smoker brought for you on the floor to your right and the bottle of make-up remover on the coffee table in front of you. Smoker sat beside you, tilting your chin to delicately rub your make-up away with a prepped, textured cotton pad.
It caught you off guard, to say the least. Even in your drunken haze, Smoker still didn’t seem like the type to have patience for tender acts of service. Hell, you didn’t even know he knew what make-up remover looked like.
But despite your judgments, Smoker sat on the couch next to you, one elbow resting against the back cushion as he held your chin while his other hand swiped away your perfect contour.
“Who taught you this?” you giggled. Smoker, make sure to get the creases around your nose.
“Doesn’t matter,” he muttered. “Where do you want your lashes?”
“What?—”
Smoker had already pulled your left eyelash off, the entire strip.
“I’ll put ‘em back in the book I saw.” Before you could protest, Smoker had already pulled off your right lash. He stood quickly, stuffing the solution-soaked pad into your hand as he pivoted to carry your lashes to the other room. “Work on the rest of the glue.”
He turned back to you slightly, leaning over you just a bit to grasp your wrist and manipulate your hand to move in a circular motion on your face before you slapped him away. Smoker disappeared once again into your apartment.
You finally noticed the plastic cup of water on your coffee table and mustered up the energy to take it. The outside was wet with condensation. It was cold. You couldn’t remember the last time you drank water.
“What do you wanna do with your unit?” Smoker appeared from around the corner again; some linens balled in a wad under his arm. He held a pillow in his opposite grip as if he were holding a stray dog by the scruff.
His white collared shirt had been pulled from the waistband of his dress pants sometime during the night. The black tie that was already draped over his shoulders drooped to one side, making one side longer than the other. The first three buttons of his shirt sat on his chest untethered. A dampened towel rested over his shoulder.
You blinked at him between sips of water. Your stomach was handling rehydration so far, but you were about to push it.
“You’re not touching my hair, Smokey.”
“Though I’d offer.” He set the pillow down to take the towel off his shoulder. Smoker wadded it in a ball before throwing it your way. You somehow still had the dexterity to catch it out of the air. A generous amount of adhesive remover had already been applied to it.
Smoker pulled the coffee table out of the way, and as you stared at the towel he threw to you, Smoker began arranging blankets and pillows around you. You supposed he was trying to get you to sleep somewhere you could sit up. He draped a fuzzy throw blanket on your lap and moved two large decorative pillows to your right and left.
As your eyes moved from the remover-soaked towel to Smoker and back, you couldn’t help but laugh. The sensation moved through you before tearing out of your chest. Unrestrained by the liquor, it probably came out louder and more shrill than it would have usually, but if Smoker had any comments, he kept them to himself.
He knelt before you, both his wrists resting on his bent knee. He shook his head as if regretting the question he was about to ask in advance.
“What’s so funny?” he asked.
You swayed forward, racked with trembles, as you continued to laugh. The back of your heels knocked against the bottom of the couch. Smoker didn’t move, even as your face inched gradually towards his. Your cheek settled into your palm, allowing you to sit folded over to meet his eye. He waited as your laughter gradually subsided.
“What are you doing here, Smoker?”
He stared directly into your irises, and you didn’t know if his expressionlessness or the intensity of his gaze made your smug smile waver. Intending to tease him, Smoker didn’t humor you with an expression. Nothing you had done that night—nor anything you would do—could sober you up faster than the sharp and sudden twinge in your chest that came with simply meeting Smoker’s dark brown eyes.
What the hell?
“Your girlfriend’ll be pissed.” You sharply recoiled, kicking your legs over Smoker’s bent knee to swiftly stand. You made a beeline deeper into the apartment.
Smoker only wavered a moment, his eyebrows creasing for a second in confusion before he stood and followed you.
“What girlfriend?” he shouted. He nearly ran into you as you closed a small cabinet by the bathroom. The side of your lip drooped downward in an acute pout. Smoker, never one to enjoy feeling left out of the loop, hovered over you expectantly. You entered the bathroom without a second thought. Smoker found himself in the doorway.
“Weren’t you with that…” You snapped your fingers as you tried to recall her name. You didn’t have to wait.
“Six months ago… and we only went on a few dates,” Smoker defended, although he wasn’t quite sure why he felt the need to defend himself to you in the first place. The two of you had known each other for longer than he recalled knowing anyone else, and more prominently, the two of you were peers. Why should it matter if he took some petty officer out for a few drinks a few months back? His eyes narrowed at the back of your head. “Why?”
You shrugged. You seemed far less worried about the whole thing; your face practically pressed against the mirror to remove the remaining patches of product Smoker missed. He did a more than adequate job. He hardly missed anything regarding your makeup, but the pointed glance you stole in the mirror escaped him.
“Now I know I’m pretty wasted��” You met his gaze through the mirror. You cocked your head, and your hands gripped the side of the sink in pure bafflement. “But you said ‘lash book’—?”
“Got it. Got it.” Smoker crossed his arms as he tore his attention away. Steam filled the air. He hardly noticed the shower running, and he most definitely didn’t realize that you were standing in front of him, presenting your back, until you started speaking again.
“So, you’re just kind of a—" You glanced over your shoulder at him, and for as off as your judgment was, you knew you probably shouldn’t finish your sentence—even if his reaction would have been hilarious. You turned back around. “Get my dress for me?”
You could have noticed Smoker’s single beat of hesitation if you were any less intoxicated. But for yet another instance that night, Smoker went quiet as he slowly tugged down the back zipper of your dress. The invisible zipper was thin and difficult to grip, but it slid down your spine like butter regardless, revealing the soft skin underneath.
“I have a pair of your shorts in the bottom left drawer of my dresser. The couch is yours.” You pivoted again on your heel, one hand holding your dress up on your chest and the other pushing Smoker back through the doorway. “Now get out.”
You shut the door. Smoker sighed and resigned himself to rifle through your dresser, wondering why he had clothes at your place at all.
Thank you to all who liked, reblogged, followed, and supported. Your support means so much and is greatly appreciated.
Notes: Based off my personal headcanon that Smoker has a surprisingly extensive dating history and an equally surprising library of knowledge about girly stuff because he's an extremely involved boyfriend. I'd say most of his previous relationships had amicable break ups. Reader was also going to say "so you're kind of a whore" but decided against it.
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· · Just in: Kento Nanami isn’t tolerating his young hot neighbor party habits, here’s what he has to say · ·
・˳ . ⋆ Reporting Live from Kento Nanami and Next door neighbor!Fem!reader ・˳ . ⋆
୨⍣୧ ⁺⁎˚ ⋆━━ Warnings : smut, Nanami is a hard!dom, hair pulling, creampie, fucked through orgasm, pet names( stupid bunny, slut, etc.), degradation is big time here, bed breaking( not just the head board), breeding kink, Nanami talks about getting you pregnant, hardcore, reader is mind fucked, Nanami is pussy drunk, reader is dick drunk, fluids( cream, squirting, drool), if I’m missing anything let me know WC: 1,081
MDNI, 18+
ෆ ‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿ ෆ ̟ ̇ ┈•゚Note from salaciousdoll: Please do note this was just to poke and have fun, it’s not gonna be perfect so don’t expect it. Anyways, hope you all enjoy my 35 min writing and yes I know this troupe and idea been used a thousands times, act like it hasn’t 😭 Nanami ass may be ooc here, idk.
Nanami always kept his eyes out for the new neighbor who threw parties with mountains of people coming in and out. He was pretty tired of the parties you throw even if you never introduced yourself to any one of your neighbors. You were young and everyone in this neighborhood was either stepping into their 30s or older than that. Only reason he knew you were young was because of how often he’ll see you leave and come in with different boys and girls.
The parties you threw were rowdy and full on project x type beat except without trashing your house. Nanami would be sleep and all he would hear is screams, music, and even the sound of fucking near his window. It’s like you didn’t care about anything or anyone, not even the complaints or calls from the police the other neighbors sent.
So Nanami didn’t care about the way you were clawing at his chest with your long, pretty acrylics as he gripped your hair in a tight ponytail— pounding into your pussy from beneath you with no mercy. The squelching sounds weren't enough to make him stop, in fact, that’s the sole reason he kept going. He ignored your cries and scrambling to get away from him because of how good he stretched your little hole out.
“ you’re not lasting like I thought you would… I mean sluts last long, so why aren’t you?”, Nanami grunts into your ear, his hips thrusting up into your weeping pussy, angrily. He didn’t care about the bed hitting the wall as he fucked you like the whore you’re mother wouldn’t be proud of.
You coughed and tried to make eye contact with him, but his grip on your hair was too much for you to see his face under you. So you cried out your frustration through crystallized vision, “ M’not a slut. Please slow down, Mr. Nanami.” Your sweet little moans and whimpers were beautiful.
Nanami let out a loud growl like moan and wrapped one arm around your body while he now had some of your ponytail tangled and wrapped into his hands, he was making your hair messy just like he was making your pussy messy. You partially regretted coming on because of the dare, but in the same breath, you were happy because now you’re living two of your fantasies.
“ You are. You are. Nnnhh, you’re a little slut that’s been disturbing this neighborhood since you stepped foot in here. Shame on you, did your mother and father teach you anything or are you too dumb of a bunny to understand. Fuck!”, Nanami grunts out his words because of how tight your fluttering walls wrapped around his dick.
Nothing but cries and little chokes escaped out of your mouth. You couldn’t form basic words, how dumb can you be? Nanami balls were slapping on your puckered hole from how fast and rough he was going. You gave up on digging your nails into his chest because you were so fucked out and tired from the pounding he’s giving you. So now your bare chest was pressed onto his bare chest, sweat glands producing from both of you.
“ Please! Please! Please! M’gonna m’gonna— uhhnnn.”, your moans were suppressed by his smooth lips. You were screaming into his mouth as you squirted over his pelvis, his balls, and legs. Some of it was getting on his sheets and he didn’t care one bit. He was too angry at you to see how messy you’ve gotten his covers.
You tried to scramble off him because you were squirting too much and the pressure of it all was too much especially for your already beaten up pussy. It’s like Nanami has superhuman speed and stamina. He sped up even more faster as he fucked up into you, you and your pussy screamed and cried.
Nanami grunts were beginning to become broken, “ Sh-ittt, s’good, pussy is so good squirting like that. I guess all those boys coming in and out of your house taught you how to milk cock, perfectly.” Your eyes widened and then they rolled back into your head at the rolling of his hips hitting the inner thighs repeatedly.
As soon as he did one more snap of his hips, the bed frame broke underneath you two causing a loud noise to erupt from how hard it hit the floor. The poles attached to his bed fell in the opposite direction of you two. If someone were to walk in right now, they’ll see that it looks like a tornado hit his room with how broken the bed was. Yet that still didn’t stop him. He now had a great angle as he pounded your tired, wet cunt over and over with one knee propped up, so you were now fucking rapidly and properly. He felt your velvet walls sucking him in with your liquid coming out at the same time. You were perfect for his cock. Nanami’s cock was big, way too big for your pussy. He loved your pussy so much. He was too drunk on your pussy to understand that his bed broke.
“ My fucking slut, such an devilish little temptation you are, gonna breed this tight little pussy. Nghh! Hopefully that’ll get you to stop having these parties and fucking with those boy toys of yours…. Settle down and grow round and big with our child, how does that sound? Hmm.”, Nanami moaned as you were now creaming on his cock from how overstimulated you were.
Your brain was fogged and your words were slurred with drool hangin out your mouth as you answered him, well tried. Luckily he understood every word you said. “ Yesh—yess, I wan’ your babies. Ahnnn. Want to be full and bloated with your children, mmm mr. Nanami”
Nanami smirked in victory because now there were no more parties, boys, or loud music. Gotta love corrupting and breaking his pretty little neighbor.
ෆ ̟ ̇ ┈•゚ Tagging: @chosoist @simpingfor-wakasa @honeybleed and anyone else who wants to be tagged
゚•┈© all right reserved to salaciousdoll, she does not give permission to steal, plagiarize, and translate.
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Couples Shit with Simon Riley (Part 2):
Having a giggle/chuckle fest almost every time you are intimate. It first happened at the beginning of your relationship when you would giggle every time you two kissed. It opened the floodgates, had let that nervous energy out, and Simon was right there chuckling with you. ("Heh—aw, fuck me.")
Swearing up and down that you're gonna fuck each other's brains out but as soon as you hit the bed, you and Simon are out like a light. The last time this happened, he was supposed to go down on you, but the next thing you know, you woke up to him fast asleep with his head on your stomach.
Kissing the bridge of his crooked nose and Simon turning into putty every time. Hell, kissing any and every dent, bruise, and scar, and making your man melt.
A nice round of horizontal tango turning into a cuddle session after you comforted Simon through a charley horse. Poor baby.
Initially making the telly watch you two make sex but turns out whatever you're watching was pretty decent after all so you guys are back to watching the telly again.
Getting hot and heavy one time but you were so intrigued with the mole you discovered on Simon's inner thigh that you spent the next half-hour or so trying to find other moles on his body.
Telling Simon that you "always wanted to do this" and when you get him hot, bothered, and hard, it turns out what you always wanted to do was measure him. His disappointment was immeasurable... even if he was interested to know the number.
Twinning in some way, shape, or fashion whenever you're out together.
Talking mad shit about his snoring but let him tell it, he doesn't say shit when you take up about 80% of the bed, covers, and sleep under him.
Speaking of talking shit, having disagreements like every couple does and when you go to bed, you're angrily cuddling each other. And yes, Simon still wants your kisses in the morning, even if you two are still mad at each other. Simon doesn't give a shit, you're still gonna love on him, dammit. And him on you.
Being mad with Simon when he arrived too late to get the creepy crawler that was harassing you. Harassing you by doing what it does best: be a creepy crawler. Simon tells you you'll have to conquer your fear one day. You tell him to conquer the couch tonight lmao.
Agreeing to disagree about the superior ice cream flavor in the house. It's too bad there's not any of his favorite ice cream in the freezer. There's some of yours, though. Why? You didn't get any because it was so superior that you wouldn't "dare sully it with your hands". Cue the judgemental stare and him eating YOUR ice cream afterward. Rude.
Scaring the ever-living shit out of Simon on the rare occasions he gets to sleep in. He woke up to you sitting up in bed with his mask and paint on. Oh, and he calls bullshit. He did not nearly fall out the bed. Nor did he jump. Okay, Simon.
Chilling and drinking with Simon. Finding out he gets hot and sweaty pretty easily and off comes his clothes. Waking up hungover the next morning and you're the big spoon to a naked and equally hungover Simon. Choosing to do fuck all but sleep it off that day.
Playfully calling or referring to him as the Missus, especially in front of your co-workers. When they finally meet Simon and ask him who he is, he replies in pure deadpan Ghost fashion: "The Missus".
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Love Bites pt. 5
The holidays are right around the corner...
Baker Fem Reader x Toji Fushiguro
word ct: 15.1k, 11 Chapters
Preview: Toji pressed a kiss to the top of your head, an absentminded but affectionate gesture since she couldn’t actually feel the kiss through your hoodie and beanie covering your head, but you warmed up from it nonetheless.
“You’re doing fine..."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Chapter Five: Pumpkin Spice
The warmth of Toji’s hand sears through your gloves even in the nipping cold. You look around in the skating rink and see a little girl in a sparkly pink jumpsuit who is doing a camel spin before evolving it into a salchow. Your eyes couldn't even keep up with how many rotations the child was completing, and you weren't sure if cheering her on would distract her or not. You watch in amazement before she realizes that the little girl who’s finally slowing down is Nobara, one of Megumi’s friends. She hadn’t recognized her for a moment because her copper hair was tucked inside of her beanie.
“That was beautiful,” you compliment and Nobara beams up at you before giving a curtsy. You were about to give another comment before you lost your balance again. You stumbled forward, trying to steady yourself, but fell short and the ice below you was rushing up to your face fast. Luckily for you, Toji was a steady boulder who was quick to hook his hand underneath your arm to prevent you from ending up in the hospital.
“Thank you,” you giggle. “This is much harder than they make it look,” you say sheepishly when you are finally standing up straight. When Toji invited you out to come skating you agreed without hesitation, then later realized that you had never gotten on ice for any recreational business. You tried to look it up online to prepare, but it was hard if you didn’t have any skates to practice on your own. You were relieved to see that you weren't the only person unable to skate in the rink, but it was still a little embarrassing.
“Follow my feet,” Toji says, gliding in front of her to grasp both of your hands tightly. Toji wasn’t wearing his usual suits, instead opting for an all grey sweatshirt and pants combo, with a black puffer jacket and beanie to match. It was a simple outfit, one that you had seen a thousand times before on other people, but he looked devastatingly handsome. Suddenly your feet started to shuffle frantically because you were admiring his face instead of following Toji’s feet like he told you. Your face crashes into his chest with a thump that even Toji groans at. You try to pull back but your feet slip again, causing you to make the same mistake.
You slump in defeat and scowls at the ice below you. You rub your head into his chest, then lift your head up, digging your chin into his sternum to look at him.
“I suck at this,” you pout. You bat your eyes at Toji and let your arms dangle at your sides while he continues to hold you up from your underarms. “Even the kids are better than me,” you grumble. You look at Yuji who also said he has never skated before, which was true since he was struggling to take baby steps on the ice with the help of Nobara and Megumi when they first came in, but now he was attempting a triple axel because Nobara had dared him to.
Toji pressed a kiss to the top of your head, an absentminded but affectionate gesture since she couldn’t actually feel the kiss through your hoodie and beanie covering your head, but you warmed up from it nonetheless.
“You’re doing fine. Yuji’s freakishly good at everything.”
“He could go to the Olympics at this rate,” you comment, pointing at how he landed yet another obnoxious turn that Nobara suggested. The kid was only ten years old for crying out loud. You groan and turn your forehead back into Toji’s chest again.
“Are you hurt anywhere? Do you want to leave?” Toji sets you right on your feet, his eyes grazing over your body.
“How could I have been hurt? You’ve been holding my hand or body this whole time,” you laugh, then slowly shuffle to the nearest bench looking into the rink. “I don’t want to leave just yet,” you say, sitting down and stretching out your legs in front of you. Toji occupied the space next to you and you both watched the three of the children race around the rink together. You scoot closer to him, closing the gap between you, then rest your head on his shoulder. You hum along to the Christmas song that is playing overhead, threading your hand under Toji’s that was resting on his thigh. By instinct he brings up your hand to kiss the back of it and you grin in response. You sit quietly and listen to the sound of jingles and laughter for a moment until Toji speaks up.
“What are your plans for Thanks—“
“Is this the reason why you can’t pick up the phone, you fucker?” A deep voice asks behind the couple, and your eyes widen at the interrupter. He must have been taller than Toji, with tattoos on his face and creeping up his neck, and spiked pink hair to top it off. Toji didn’t even turn around to acknowledge the man. He replies with a simple, “It broke.”
“If you’re gonna lie, at least make it a good one,” the other man grumbles. He finally looks down at you, who Toji scooped and tucked closer to his body. The other man crosses his arms over his chest and whistles.
“What’s this? You actually got yourself a woman now?”
“What do you want?”
“She’s really cute. What’s your name, honey?”
Toji pulls you closer and glares at the man. “Sukuna,” he warns.
“Sukuna me all you want, I asked some questions first.”
“Baby, this is the bane of my existence. Bane of my existence, this is my baby. Now go back to whatever the fuck you were doing before this.”
“I was looking for you, asshole. We have a problem,” Sukuna says after winking at you.
You give a small wave of your hand but stay quiet during their interaction. You can see Toji getting increasingly stressed out from the conversation so you rub his thigh consolingly.
“Can’t. Busy. Take it to Nanami.”
“Nanami is pulling the same shit as you but he’s smart enough to stay inside to avoid me.”
“Gojo then.”
“He’s being disgusting with his girl right now. They’re feeding each other whatever baked goods she made for him this time and rubbing each oher’s noses,” Sukuna shivers.
“Sounds like you should get yourself a partner,” Toji sighs.
“Don’t worry about me, I got my eyes on someone. Speaking of partners, are you gonna bring her to the family Thanksgiving dinner?”
“I was getting to that before your big ass showed up.”
“I’d love to go. What should I bring?” You pipe up.
“Anything you want, sugar, I’m sure it’ll taste amazing,” Sukuna purrs and dodges the arm Toji threw out in an attempt to punch his stomach.
“Great. That’s settled. Call the kids over so I can drop them off at Nanami’s place as punishment for blocking my number again. We have some work to do.”
“I’ll be fine, Toji. It looks like your…friend needs you,” you smile.
“Thank you,” Sukuna nods. “Here you go,” he hands you a cafe cup. “The lady in the store gave me a sugary pumpkin spice latte instead of black coffee.”
“Don’t take that,” Toji scowls and snatches the cup from Sukuna. “After I take her back then we can talk. Fuck off.”
“Love you too, baby,” Sukuna teases. He walks down the street hauling Yuji and Nobara on his shoulders and Megumi walking close behind, leaving Toji and you alone to walk to his car.
“You don’t have to come if you don’t want to,” Toji says once you get in his car.
“I want to. I want to meet the rest of your family,” you assure him.
“They’ll love you, but I’m greedy and wanted to spend Thanksgiving alone together.”
“We’ll have some alone time when we leave,” you say, leaning on the armrest and looking at his lips.
“Oh yeah?”
You hum in response, drifting closer to his face, but place a finger on his lips before you could touch.
“First you should get me a pumpkin spice latte. I really wanted that one,” you grin.
<<<Chapter One
<<<Chapter Two
<<<Chapter Three
<<<Chapter Four
Chapter Six>>>
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