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#you’re going to carry that weight
venushasvixens · 2 years
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Still tinkering with the chapter and stuff
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stromer · 6 months
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he’s gonna get weird and odd about this and maybe even let it linger
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warrenthealien · 1 year
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Just saw the Mario movie: 0/10 not enough Bowuigi
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age-of-moonknight · 2 years
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“Doctor,” Moon Knight (Vol. 7/2014), #9.
Writer: Brian Wood; Penciler and Inker: Greg Smallwood; Colorist: Jordie Bellaire; Letterer: Travis Lanham
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rowarn · 8 months
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EXPERIENCE (m.)
könig x inexperienced!reader
tags: age gap, acquaintances to lovers, afab!reader but gn
cw: loss of virginity, cunnilingus, fingering, hand riding (hear me out), pussyjob, talking u thru it, praise, pet names (liebling, little one), size kink/difference, handjob, reassurance/encouragement kink, wet&messy, konig is uncut hehe, squirting
note: konig is in his 40s and reader is in their 20s!
;in which you live in the same building as a really hot, older, military man
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When you met König, you never expected the harmless interactions to ever evolve into anything substantial. He lived somewhere in the same apartment building as you did, though you didn’t know where exactly. Most times, you would find him in the elevator or cross paths with him in the lobby. 
You knew he was in the military, most of the people living in the building were. It was close to the nearby base and had rent for a damn good price. The way he carried himself, back straight and body seemingly always at attention gave him away. 
He was massive, standing much taller above you with broad shoulders and thick thighs. A lot of the time he was wearing a hood over his face, mostly when he was coming or going from work – which was seemingly all the time. 
On the few occasions that you caught him without the hood, you could tell it was him solely by his build. There was no one else in the building who looked anything like that. 
He was handsome, in a rugged, tired kind of way. He was a lot older than you were expecting him to be – probably in his early to mid forties, you guessed. He had salt and pepper hair, fine lines etched onto his face, and stern eyes from (no doubt) many years in the military. 
You had never properly spoken to him before. Hell, you didn’t even know his name. You greeted him when you saw him and smiled in passing when you made eye contact. Occasionally, he would respond in an accented voice that you longed to ask about. 
The event that changed everything was a fun little night out you had with your friends. You had maybe had a bit too much to drink before finally conceding at your friends’ behest to call yourself an Uber. 
By the time you reach your apartment building, you’re still very buzzed and starting to feel a little nauseous. You stumble to the elevator and impatiently slam your thumb on the button over and over again, losing count as you do. 
“It’s not going to come any faster,” an accented voice drones next to you, nearly making you jump out of your skin. 
“You scared the shit out of me,” you wheeze, hand over your racing heart.
“You should be more aware of your surroundings then,” he says, “Especially when you are intoxicated.”
You huff through your nose, growing annoyed at the prospect of being lectured. The elevator grants mercy and dings before slowly opening. There's a rowdy group of men inside who quickly walk out of the elevator, seedy eyes immediately finding their way to you, scanning your body up and down as they pass by. 
You feel that nauseous pit in your stomach twist as you finally step onto the elevator. Nothing to ruin your jovial mood from a nice evening more than a group of leering men. Living in an apartment building filled with soldiers, it wasn’t unusual to have them stare at you – didn’t mean you liked it. 
You cross your arms over your chest as König steps on, the elevator creaking and groaning under his immense weight. 
“What floor?” he asks softly, glancing at you over his shoulder as he stands in front of the button panel.
“3,” you mumble, leaning against the back wall. You watch him punch in the 3 but not anything else, making you raise a brow, “You live on 3 too?”
He shakes his head but doesn’t say another word. You narrow your eyes at his back, if he feels you looking, he doesn’t give it away. The elevator is plunged into silence aside from the quiet sound of the shaft moving up and up until it dings and the doors slide open. 
He steps out first, standing in the threshold to keep the door from closing as you push yourself off the wall. Your head swims for a second and you stumble past him, keenly aware of his eyes on you. 
You wander down the hallway, glancing over your shoulder to see him slowly stalking behind you. His arms hand limply by his sides, his fists clenched into fists but he remains a respectable distance. 
“Why are you following me?” you ask, unable to hide the nervousness in your tone, “You said you don’t live on this floor.”
“Young recruits are tools,” he supplies simply, “I am making sure you make it to your door without any problems.”
That causes you to hum and for a little flutter in your stomach to manifest. You brush it off and pause at your door, pulling your keys out so unlock it. You push it open and step in, letting it hit your back to keep it from closing as you turn to look at your companion.
“Thank you…um…” you clear your throat and look at him expectantly. 
“König,” he supplies simply, arms tucked behind his back, making him look even wider. 
“König…” you repeat, feeling the words on your tongue, “Interesting name. Where are you from?”
“Austria,” he replies almost mechanically, “I will be going now.”
You don’t get to say another word before he’s stalking away and down the hallway, heavy footfalls practically rumbling the ground beneath him. You slowly close your door and lean against it, hand placed over your racing heart – when did that start up? 
You blame it on your inexperience when it comes to men. You’d had a couple boyfriends, pretty standard for someone in their 20s. Your problem was none of them were ever good enough. The over-zealous types who wanted their dicks sucked as gratitude for paying for dinner. Then would turn around and either give you the most lackluster head of your life, barely any foreplay before trying to shove his dick into an unprepared hole. 
You had never given them the chance, once they showed they were only interested in their own pleasure and would more than likely not even think about touching your clit or angling for your g-spot, you stopped them and kicked them out. More often than not, you woke up to a break-up text because of course you did. 
So that was how you were still a virgin and more or less, at this point, given up on dating. You’d been single now for the better part of 6 months and had no intentions of giving any men your own age a shot at it. 
But…you hadn’t considered an older man. Like König. 
At that thought, you pushed yourself off the door and kicked your shoes off, intent on taking a shower to hopefully wash these drunken thoughts out of your head. So he’d been nice and walked you to your door, no questions asked, so what? Didn’t make him any different from men your age. 
As you made it to the bathroom, you felt your stomach finally churn for the final time and found your head buried in the toilet. You cursed yourself for not listening to your friends, who apparently knew your own limits better than you did. 
The next time you see König is just a few days later. You walk into the apartment’s gym on the ground floor, and there he is – sitting lifting weights. You pause when you see him, feeling that traitorous flutter in your chest you were sure you puked out that night you had learned his name. 
You watch the way his biceps flex, bulging so large you’re sure not even two of your hands could wrap around the girth of it. There were some scars littering his skin, most of them white and raised from age but a few that still had that new tissue pink color. You also noticed some fading tattoos encircling his forearms. Fuck, he was hot. 
You hung your head and scampered over to the treadmill, intent on getting your cardio up. 
As you run, you notice a group waltz in, laughing and shoving each other. You glance over at them, rolling your eyes when some of them make eye contact and nudge their buddies. They lean in close and whisper to each other with shit eating grins on their faces and you find frustration building up so you try to ignore them. 
“Quiet,” you hear an accented voice snap, full of authority, “You are disturbing everyone.”
The rowdy young men quiet down immediately and clear their throats, “S-Sorry, Colonel,” one of them utters.
‘Colonel? Is that high ranking?’ you find yourself wondering, making a mental note to look that up later. 
Either way, König manages to make the gym peaceful once again and you finish your workout with no other hitches. 
You grab your towel and dab at the sweat on your face and neck as you swiftly make your way out of the gym, completely unaware of the shadow following closely behind. 
You slow to a stop at the elevator, punching the button to call it as you sip on your water bottle, mindlessly going over what else you need to do with your day. The shadow behind you remains stagnant, still and silent as it lurks behind your unsuspecting form as the elevator opens and you step on. 
He follows, hefty weight causing the elevator to groan as usual. That gets your attention and you jump, placing a delicate hand over your racing heart just like you had before, eyes wide in shock at his appearance.
“You’re doing it on purpose now!” you whine at him and he has to fight back a smile at it. 
“I told you that you needed to pay more attention to your surroundings,” he replies smoothly, pressing the 3 button for you before pressing 5 for himself. 
“How is a guy as big as you able to be so quiet?” you ask softly, making note of the floor he lives on. 
“Years of training,” he gives a quick response that you hum at. There is a beat of silence before he finds himself speaking again, “You never gave me your name.”
He sees the way you look at him in surprise and he almost wishes he could rip the words from the air as soon as he says them. He doesn’t want you to get the wrong idea that he actually wants to get to know you. 
But you smile softly and give him your name with a kind nod of your head before the elevator grants him mercy and dings at the arrival on your floor.
“See you around, König,” you say as you step off. 
He doesn’t respond. 
Once back in the safety of your apartment, you find yourself going through the entire interaction in your head over and over again. Your heart races as you think back on him. 
It's as you’re making dinner for yourself that you finally have the coherent thought of revelation that you may have a crush on König. 
The revelation is almost enough to have you groaning out of frustration into the quiet sanctity of your apartment but you manage to refrain. But you can’t deny you don’t quite know what to do about it now. You had sworn off of men but…that was men your own age. König was…older than you, surely at least 15 years your senior, possibly more. You figure it couldn’t hurt to ask him out for some coffee one of these days. 
Except, the next time you see König is almost 2 weeks later. You don’t see hide nor hair of him at all. It definitely puts a damper on your confidence and you almost think your crush was just a fleeting little thing and for that you’re grateful for. 
Until the elevator opens one day and there he is. He’s wearing his hood but his eyes look even more exhausted than usual – beyond the general tiredness that comes with age. You carefully step on, joining him in the downward descent to the lobby. It’s just the two of you and feel that fluttering in your chest start up again and your hands begin to sweat. You scour your brain for something to say — anything to start up a conversation after so long of not seeing him.
“Haven’t seen you around,” you mutter softly. He hums softly in acknowledgement but doesn’t supply much of a response beyond that, “Where have you been?” you try again.
“Deployed,” he finally responds after several seconds of silence. 
You can’t find any way to respond or keep the conversation going but it’s sure that he has no intentions of doing so anyway. Still, it surprised you that he had been deployed, you hadn’t considered that. It made sense now that you thought about it. 
The elevator opened and you both stepped out. He walked much faster than you, beelining out of the apartment and you briefly considered letting him go but another part of you wanted to stop him and ask him out. 
You cursed to yourself and jogged forward, calling his name. He stopped in his tracks at the sound of you calling for him. He looks down at you over his nose, a burning gaze that makes your nervousness spike. Perhaps it wasn’t such a good time after all. 
“What?” he snaps, clearly impatient.
“Oh um…” you clear your throat and slow to a stop, “N-Nevermind…”
He huffs through his nose and resumes storming out of the apartment. You find yourself sighing deeply, following his lead. When you get outside, he’s nowhere to be seen and you once again find yourself wondering how a man of his size is so good at not being seen. 
A few nights later, the weekend rolls around and you find yourself standing in that damned elevator with him once again. He’s maskless and it gives you pause before stepping on. 
It’s silent for a few seconds before he says, “I am sorry for the other day.”
You look up at him with wide eyes, “Um…what do you mean?”
“I was not polite towards you,” he answers, casting a soft gaze towards you that makes your heart flutter, “I took my bad mood out on you and I should not have. So…I am sorry.”
“Oh…” you clear your throat and give him a smile, “it’s alright, König. I shouldn’t have bothered you with something silly.”
He frowns at you, “Something silly?”
“It’s nothing,” you assure him, smiling kindly at him. 
He wants to ask you what you mean but the elevator door opens and you step out, making him realize that you reached your floor. You wave your goodbye to him as the doors close and he lets his head fall back with a sigh once he’s alone.
Yet another bad day weighed heavily on his shoulders when you came waltzing into the elevator, bright eyed and happy. His fists were clenched behind his back and he did his best to avoid looking at you, hoping you would take the hint and not speak to him like you usually did. It hadn’t been but a day since he had apologized to you for making an ass of himself in the lobby and he didn’t want to do the same thing so soon after. 
But then you say something that sends it all crumbling down.
“Hey…” you start, fidgeting your fingers in front of you, “Would you like to get coffee sometime? Maybe lunch?”
You ask it so sweetly and softly. For some reason, that grates on his nerves even more than anything.
“What?” he snaps, cold and sharp in a way that makes you visibly freeze. 
You look up at him like a deer caught in the headlights, “Um…w-well, I just…it’s…I would like to…”
Your nervous babbling only serves to piss him off even more as his glare narrows down on you, making you shrink in on yourself where you stand. Suddenly, the elevator feels much smaller than it had ever before – even with him filling most of the space as usual. 
“You want to go out with me?” he spits, his accent growing stronger with every venomous word that he can’t seem to stop from spilling from his lips, “I am twice your age, what the hell makes you think I would want to date you?”
You swallow thickly around the lump forming in your throat and bite back the tears that threaten to form. He hears you sniffle and promptly snaps his head to look at you. Under the ugly, yellow light of the elevator he can see the tears trickling down your cheeks and he suddenly wants to slap himself into the next decade. 
He wants to open his mouth so badly and apologize for being so cruel to you. He knows he could have told you no in a much softer way rather than making your feelings seem like something revolting or stupid. But the elevator doors open and you’re slipping out before he even has a chance. He decides not to chase after you. 
It’s for the best, he assures himself. 
It only takes a few days before he’s vehemently regretting not stopping you then and there. 
It happens on a Friday night, the elevators are closing just as a hand jumps between them, sending them opening again. You step on, giggling in a way that tells him you’re just a little inebriated. You freeze when you see him standing there, maskless and cold gaze as he watches you tug a young man into the elevator behind you – clearly a little drunk himself. 
You pointedly stand in front of König, keeping your back to him to show that you’re not even willing to look at him. König feels his heart clench painfully in his chest before it’s replaced by a wash of anger as he watches the young man paw at you. He slips his hand down your back to grope at your ass, making you giggle breathlessly before you’re batting his hands away with a little bat of your lashes. 
König wishes he had an excuse to step off the elevator at the same time as you – anything to prolong his time with you. He’s never felt the desire to cockblock someone more in his whole entire life. 
But he doesn’t move. He just watches you step off without a single glance in his direction before you’re vanishing around the corner and the elevator doors close silently, leaving König alone with his thoughts. 
You couldn’t believe you brought this guy to your apartment. You especially couldn’t believe you were letting him strip you of your clothes and paw at your body like some kind of mindless dog. You had sworn to yourself that you were not going to fall into this trap again – a 20-something year old guy buying you a drink, complimenting you a little, teasing and groping you in the club until you caved and brought him home. It wasn’t your first go around – and it always ended the same way.
But you were drunk and you needed to get your mind off that stupid, giant Austrian military man that lived in your building. And wouldn’t you know it, he was on the elevator as soon as you got in. It was almost enough to sober you up, your wounded pride and feelings still so prevalent even after a few days of nursing the hurt. 
You could only hope that this would relieve you of your hurt feelings. 
Unfortunately, you quickly realized that this was a mistake. 
As soon as he started groping you, spreading your legs and trying to stuff his cock inside you without so much as a single finger of prep – you knew this wasn’t going to happen.
You tried to lead him, thinking maybe he was a little too tipsy to actually think about it.
“How about a little prep, hm?” you ask softly.
He pauses what he’s doing and you can practically see the gears turning in his head, “Oh…you’re one of those…”
He says it in disgust and you feel yourself bristle in annoyance, “One of what?”
“You want me to eat you out, right?” he scoffs, rolling his eyes, “That shit’s gross, c’mon just let me stick it in, already.” It was that moment that you felt any minute desire you had to have sex evaporate. 
You don’t even bother walking the guy out, leaving him to limp to the elevator in shame with a hard cock and blue balls.
It takes you a few days to find it in yourself to crawl out of your apartment. The only reason you actually do leave is because you’re in need of food – your little supply of ramen has depleted and you have to bite the bullet. 
After your little shopping trip at the nearby convenience store, you find yourself waiting for the elevator when a dark shadow looms over you. You feel a pit of dread in your stomach as you smell the musky, sweet scent of his cologne. But you don’t dare acknowledge his presence. 
He doesn’t give you long to ignore him, however, before he’s talking to you.
“How was your little date?” he asks, voice dripping in a tone of condescension that immediately puts you on edge. 
“What’s it to you?” you hiss, still not daring to look at him. 
He scoffs, “You went and found yourself a little toy to play with awfully fast. Seems your interest in me wore off quickly, no?”
That gets you to finally turn around, meeting his cold, indifferent gaze with your hot, teary one. You miss the look of surprise that flashes over his face.
“What is your problem?” you snap, “You rejected me, what the hell do you care what I do? And for your information, the date was shit. He was shit, like I should have expected any difference. God, I really am a fucking idiot,” you find yourself rambling, a lamenting spiel that you can’t seem to stop no matter how badly you want to, “Just like every prick before him, he was selfish and revolting. I thought I could finally get fucking laid and just call it a day but no, my stupid standards are too high and I find myself asking out the hot older guy in my building only for him to find me revolting!”
By the time you’re done ranting, the doors open and you storm out of the elevator, angrily gripping your bag of groceries. König is frozen where he stands, watching you leave as the doors slowly close – almost begging him to put his hand between them and stop them so he can chase after you. 
But he doesn’t.
It’s creeping up on midnight when there’s a knock on your apartment door. You’re curled up on the couch, watching some random show that you weren’t really invested in but couldn’t be bothered to change. 
The knock makes you jump, startled, but get up nonetheless. A quick peek in the peephole tells you exactly who it is before you even open it. 
You briefly consider not opening it period but find yourself opening it before you actually settle on a decision. 
König stands in front of you, a bouquet of flowers clutched in his hand, looking comically small. The sight is almost enough to get you to crack a smile. Almost.
But the residual hurt from the last few interactions you’ve had with him is enough to keep you stoic. You raise a brow and you practically see his confidence falter. A pang of guilt goes through you at the sight and you step aside, waving him in with a quiet huff. 
He closes the door behind him softly, kicking his boots off as he watches you wander into the living room. You take a seat on your couch, covering yourself with your throw blanket once again as you watch him wander in, gazing around at your decor before finally settling on you. 
“Um…” He clears his throat nervously and places the flowers on your coffee table, “I think that we should talk…”
“Should we?” you quip back.
He sighs, broad shoulders heaving with the movement before he takes a seat beside you, taking up a hefty amount of space on your small couch. 
“I want to apologize,” he says softly, folding his hands in his lap, “When you asked me out…I-I should not have spoken to you like that.”
You huff, crossing your arms over your chest, “If that’s all this is about, König, then you can go. I-I don’t really want to hear a half-assed apology about the way you rejected me. You’re not interested, let’s just move on from it. I’ll get over it.”
He shakes his head quickly and curses under his breath, a word you don’t understand – German, your brain supplies, helpfully.
“You are wrong,” he says, “I do not want you to get over it because I am interested.”
The gets you to perk up, eyes wide, “What do you mean? You said you–”
“I know what I said,” he mutters, “I am…twice your age…”
“So you mentioned before…” you reply.
“I do not think…you should be with someone old like me,” he continues softly, “You should be with someone your own age. That is what I thought. It is not that I don’t find you attractive; I think you’re sweet and lovely. But it's just…our age difference…”
“König,” you stop him from continuing, “I’m capable of making my own decisions.”
“I understand that but…” he trails off, casting a sideways glance across the room, away from you.
“I’ve tried dating men my own age, König,” you say, “It always ends the same – I send them home blue balled.”
He huffs out a laugh through his nose and finally sets his gaze back on you, “Why do you do that?”
“I don’t plan to…” you begin, running your hand along the soft fabric of your blanket, “it’s just that...I bring them home and then we start getting into it and it fucking sucks!”
“Sucks..?” The question is soft and drawn out. 
“He wants to fuck my throat and won’t even give me his fingers before trying to stick his dick in,” you spit, angrily glaring at the tv as you remember all your shit encounters, “I’ve never even let one of them go all the way.”
“You’re a virgin…?” he asks.
You shrug your shoulders, “I guess. I mean I’ve had shitty oral and stuff but…”
“I see…” he trails off, shifting in his seat, hands still folded in his lap, “Well, I would like to take you out for a date after all.”
You find a smile spreading across your face faster than you can stop it. You jump to your knees and throw your arms around his shoulders with a squeal of happiness, “Really? You mean it?”
He laughs breathlessly, a husky little sound that makes your heart race, “Does this weekend work for you?”
You eagerly nod your head and lean in. You catch the way his eyes widen briefly before your lips meet. You think he’s going to pull away from you but instead he cups the back of your head and deepens the kiss. 
You feel a shiver go through you at the feeling of his big, strong hand holding you there in the kiss. You couldn’t keep yourself from getting wet even if you wanted to. 
With your hands pressed against his firm chest, you toss one leg over his lap and find yourself seated on top of him. He breaks the kiss at that, hands migrating to your waist where he mindlessly strokes his thumb over the skin exposed by the way your shirt rode up.
You lean down and kiss him again and he groans against your mouth. You grind down against him in response to the throb that makes your pussy clench around nothing. You whimper into the kiss when he suddenly stops your movements with a firm grip. 
“We shouldn’t, liebling,” he whispers softly.
“Why not?” you whine, settling in his lips. You briefly realize that you can feel something hard beneath you and that makes you start dripping in your panties, “Don’t you want to?”
“I-I do…” he assures, “I just…want to properly court you…”
He couldn’t get any sweeter if he tried. Still, you quip back with a teasing little smile, “Wow, you are a lot older than me, huh?”
You feel giddy when the sweet look in his eyes melts away into something darker. One hand clasps the back of your head before he pulls you in for a much rougher kiss. You keen as you feel the way he exudes experience – the kiss like nothing you have ever experienced before. 
The way he moves his lips and slips his tongue into your mouth to taste your mouth, it’s not gross or too much the way it sometimes is with men who don’t know what they’re doing.you find yourself moaning into the kiss before you even realize it. 
He pulls away at that, a heady look in his pretty, blue eyes. You find yourself briefly lamenting the loss of his mouth but that thought disappears quickly when he moves to begin peppering kisses along the length of your neck, making sure to nip at your jaw and kiss your shoulder. 
He tugs the hem of your t-shirt down just a bit so he can have access to your collar bones, nipping and kissing there as well. Your head falls back as you surrender yourself to him completely. 
“Oh,” he coos softly, lips brushing against your ear, “You are just so sweet for me, aren’t you, little one?”
You practically whimper at his words as his hands slip under the hem of your shirt, fingertips barely grazing your skin. You squirm in his lap as his touch tickles you on his way up to your breasts, skirting over your ribs before fully cupping them in his roughened palms. 
You sigh into the quiet room, arching your back to press deeper into his hands. His thumbs graze over your nipples and you moan. 
Sure, you’ve had guys grope your tits before but it had never felt like this. The mindless squishing and squeezing was replaced with soft cupping and gentle brushes over your nipples until they hardened followed by pinches and flicks that left you absolutely dripping in your panties.
He takes mercy on you quickly, one hand sliding down your body to slide under your sweatpants and beneath your panties. Your hands grip his shoulders, blunt nails biting into them when one broad finger slides down, the sticky noise of your folds separating enough to send heat rushing to your cheeks.
“You’re so wet,” he whispers in a tone so soft you almost think it wasn’t meant for you, but then he tacks on, “Do you hear it?” 
“Y-Yeah,” you whimper, embarrassment flooding through you at the sticky, clicking noises that come along with his prodding, “N-Never been this wet before, König…”
That causes him to pause, blue eyes gazing at you through his eyelashes, “Is that so..?” You desperately nod your head, slowly beginning to rock your hips against his hand, but he doesn’t move again and you whine, “Has anyone ever made you cum on their fingers?”
“J-Just me,” you answer breathlessly without a second thought. 
He hums thoughtfully and after a second, he begins moving his hand again. This time he introduces more fingers, spreading your folds apart with his index and ring so he can pet your hardened clit with his middle. The feeling makes tremors run through your body and he huffs a laugh, “I guess I will show you what it feels like then, yeah?”
He doesn’t give you a moment to think let alone answer before his middle finger is sliding into you. The one digit alone is enough to stretch you, given how massive he is in whole. He crooks his finger forward and a moan rips from your chest when he hits that gooey little spot inside you. 
“A-Another, please, König!” you beg shamelessly.
“Shh,” he hushes, shaking his head, “Let me work you open on this and then you can have more.”
You practically wail in despair, letting your forehead drop forward onto his shoulder. You suddenly wish you had rid yourself of your clothes so you could see the way his hand worked against you. All you could see now was the faint movement under your pants but the mental image of that thick finger inside you, slick with your juices was enough to have you clenching desperately around him. 
After a moment, he adds a second finger and you feel like you’re in heaven. The stretch is phenomenal and his palm bumps against your clit every time he sinks them into the last knuckle. 
However, before he can set a rhythm to really start getting you off, he stops. You angrily lean back and glare at him – the sight has his lips quirking up.
“Ride my fingers,” he orders you, leaving no room for arguing.
You can tell he’s not going to give you anything unless you take it for yourself so you sit up higher on your knees so you can have the clearance to move. Your hands remain on his shoulders, clinging to him for stability as you clumsily begin to rock your hips. The only time you’ve ever done these movements is when you tried humping your pillow once after seeing it in some porn. It didn’t really do much for you so you never tried again. 
König can tell your movements are clumsy and it makes his cock throb against his thigh. He helps you along, crooking his fingers just right to grind the tips against that sweet little spot inside you. It makes you moan beautifully and he files the noise away. 
His other hand comes up to grip your hip, steadying you as you continue to hump his fingers. You’re growing more and more frustrated as you quickly realize that you’re not able to make it feel as good as he had earlier. The tearful little gaze you give him has him breaking, using the hand on your hip guiding you into more seamless movements. 
“Like this, liebling,” he directs softly, “Grind down like that, mhm, give that little clit some love, yeah?”
You become increasingly breathless as you work yourself higher and higher under his expert guidance. He can feel your juices dripping down his wrist, the snug hold around his fingers growing even tighter with every little rut of your hips. 
“You’re so precious,” he coos, feeling the way you clench up at the sound of his voice. Your body is so honest, telling him what you like without you having to say anything, “You’re going to cum, I can feel it. Be good and give it to me, yeah?”
You surge forward and desperately kiss him, one hand reaching down and gripping his wrist. It takes only a few more, desperate thrusts of your hips for you to topple over that edge. Your body trembles on his lap and you cry out in pleasure. 
He moans alongside you, watching with rapt attention as you cum all over his fingers just like he told you to.
You slump against him as you come down and he pulls his hands out of your pants. He presses a kiss against your temple in silent praise, hands rubbing your back to soothe you through the aftershocks that run through your body.
You lean back and meet his gaze, an opportunity he takes to slip his cum-soaked fingers into his mouth. At that, you surge forward and kiss him, running your hands down his body to pull at the button of his jeans. He grunts into your mouth, brows furrowing at the release of pressure when you tug the zipper down.
You’re absolutely speechless when you finally pull his cock free. He watches in poorly concealed pride as you gawk at the length in your hand. You give him a slow and tedious tug, watching the foreskin roll over his head, forcing a bead of precum from the tip. 
“You’re so…big,” you whisper breathlessly.
“I know,” he grunts, unable to hide the ebbs of pleasure you give him as you play with his cock.
“Cocky,” you tease softly, continuing with your soft touches. 
“N-Not cocky,” he whispers, licking his suddenly dry hips, “Just aware of my size.”
You drop your eyes back down to his cock, hot and heavy in your hand. Your fingers don't even touch each other when wrapped around him. Precum drips from the tip, leaking down the side to meet your palm and aid in the movements. 
He leans his head back against the couch, closing his eyes and furrowing his brows. It wasn’t often that he got to indulge in someone else’s hand. Your palm was so soft, much softer than his own, and delicate in your inexperience. 
He reaches down with one his hands, wrapping around yours to make you squeeze tighter, “Just like that, little one, that’s how I like it.”
You could have drooled as he said it. His hand dwarfed yours and the sight made you clench around nothing, more slick leaking into your already ruined panties. 
“Let me see you, liebling,” he whispers breathlessly, fingers hooking on the hem of your top.
You release his cock to lift your arms, letting him tug the fabric over your head. His hands are on your tits immediately, mouthing at your nipples without wasting a second.
“So pretty,” he coos with his mouth full, rolling his tongue over your nipple before nipping the bud with his lips.
He switches to the other one, wrapping his mouth around it, sucking sharply before pulling back, taking your nipple with him before releasing it with a pop. You watch with lidded eyes as he drools all over your tits. His cock flexes and twitches against your thigh as he plays with your tits.
Suddenly, with a firm grip on your waist, your whole world flips and you find yourself on your back on the couch with König on top of you. You lick your lips at the sight of his big, broad form hovering above you, caging you in as he leans down to kiss you again.
You sigh contentedly into his mouth, threading your fingers through his short, messy hair, using the grip to pin him against you. He lets you kiss him to your heart's content, only pulling back when you need air – a string of spit connecting your lips that breaks when he leans back between your thighs. 
His fingers took into the band of your pants, tugging them down, taking your panties with them until you’re completely bared before him. He’s still completely clothed aside from his cock that rests against his abdomen, occasionally twitching as his eyes rake over your nude body.
“Tell me, liebling,” he says, strong hands running up the length of your thighs, “Has anyone ever eaten you out?”
You clumsily nod your head.
“Was it good?” he asks, biting back a smile when you shake your head.
“Guys always think it’s gross or something…” you whisper softly.
He hums softly, “That is because you’ve been messing with stupid little boys.”
“You gonna eat me out, König?” you ask him, biting your lip in a poorly concealed excited grin.
“Would you like me to?” as he asks, he slowly spreads your legs open. The position causes your folds to spread apart, opening you up for his greedy eyes.
You feel your breathing speed up as he kisses down your body, starting with your lips and ending right above your clit. You feel the little bud twitch in anticipation as he tongues the skin above it, giving you a sneak peek on what is so close to it. 
“Tell me,” he says.
You whine, “Y-Yes, I want you to eat me out, König!”
He chuckles softly but doesn’t bother teasing you anymore. He meets your gaze and moves his tongue lower finally, sliding the flat of the muscle of your clit. You gasp and toss your head back into the cushions, eyes rolling back as he noisily slurps at your cunt. 
“O-Oh god!” you wail, hiccuping out noises of pleasure that you can’t seem to quiet.
König is in heaven. It’s not every day that he gets the opportunity to eat such a pretty, inexperienced little cunt. Your reactions to everything are so strong and loud. Your pussy is loud too, squelching in the room, making an intoxicating melody with your moans. He moans against you, swallowing down everything your messy little pussy drools out for him.
“Th-That feels so good, König!” you sob, kicking your feet mindlessly against his back as he captures your clit in his mouth, suckling at the bud, “You’re so good, so good, oh god!”
Never in a million years did you think being eaten out could feel this good. The mindlessly, halfhearted licks and kisses you had received in the past did nothing to prepare you for what it felt like to really have a man’s tongue on you. 
He pulls away suddenly, giving you a moment to actually breathe, “You taste so sweet, liebling.”
“König…” you whimper, looking up at him with lidded eyes, “Please, please don’t stop.”
You tug at his hair and attempt to pull his mouth back down on your pussy. You don’t care how pathetic and desperate it is, he has given you a taste of pleasure you’d never experienced before.
He has the audacity to laugh at you, brushing your hands away so he can sit up straight again. He scoots closer and you realize then that he is not planning to continue and it practically draws a sob out of you. 
“We can focus on that another time, liebling,” he promises, making you clench around nothing, more slick dribbling out for him to see, “You are so messy, you know that? Never had someone make such a mess all over me before. You must really enjoy being eaten out, huh?”
You feel your face burn hot with shame at his words, shyly hiding your face away. He smiles softly at that, “Nothing to be ashamed of, liebling…I love it, I do.”
“Really?” you quiver out the question and he nods his head.
“Yes, little one,” he coos, “I’m glad that I can make it feel good for you.”
You practically feel hearts in your eyes as he says that. You don’t think you’ve ever had a man tell you that he actually cared and enjoyed your pleasure. That was the final nail in the coffin for you – you really should have been going after older men all this time.
He disrupts your thoughts by suddenly stripping his shirt off. Your mouth goes completely dry at the sight of his bared skin – firm muscle, hair speckled all over his torso, and numerous scars from untold stories of his time in the military. You take note of the faded tattoos that become visible on his pecs and biceps; you’d always noticed the tattoos on his arms but you’d never really been given the opportunity to look. 
“You’re so handsome,” you whisper.
He pauses while ridding himself of his jeans and smiles, “Thank you, little one.”
When he’s completely bare to you, you slowly rake your eyes down the entirety of his newly exposed body. His cock hangs heavy under its own weight, glimmering at the tip with his precum. You’d never been with a guy who was uncut but the sight made you drool. 
“Now, liebling,” he says suddenly, getting your attention. He scoots closer, spreading your legs as wide as he can before laying the hefty weight of his cock against your cunt. It’s hot and throbbing and your entire body trembles at the sight, “You have to understand something.”
“What..?” you ask, breathless and unable to look away from his cock. 
“I am not like those little boys you were running around with,” he explains, hips slowly beginning to rut against you, length parting your folds and rubbing over your clit, drawing a sweet little moan from you, “I don’t stick my cock in a tight little cunt and blow my load, do you know what I’m saying?”
You shake your head, too lost in the sight and feeling of him practically fucking the outside of your pussy. He doesn’t stop the mind-numbing rolls of his hips, letting you get lost in the feeling of him stroking over your clit, saturating him in your cum. 
“That means,” he sighs, reaching up to grip your throat, forcing you to look at him as he leaned over your body, sandwiching his cock between the two of you, “I don’t cum easily, liebling. I am a grown man, I will fuck you until you cannot cum anymore. Are you prepared for that?”
The fact this man was so confident in his abilities in bed has you clenching around nothing again. You were sure the guys you almost slept with would never have been able to have the pure confidence that came from König. He knew what he was doing – he knew how to make you cum and he was going to use that experience well. You knew his age played a factor in how long it would take him to cum and you couldn’t wait to experience it.
“I want it so bad, König,” you beg softly, “Please?”
“Very good,” he praised, “You’re so good for me.”
He finally gripped the base of his cock and you watched excitedly as he pressed the tip against your entrance. You reached down and wrapped your arms around your knees, pulling them back for him so he could comfortably begin pressing into you.
The stretch is beyond anything you’d ever felt before. You knew his cock was big but watching the bulbous tip press against you and slowly spread you wide open was something else entirely. It burned in a way that had you wincing, furrowed brows making your face pinch up, making König pause. 
“It’s okay, little one,” he whispers, bringing a big thumb up to roll over your hard little clit, “Just relax for me, don’t clench up or it will hurt more.”
“I-It’s so big, König!” you wail helplessly, tearily staring up at him as he methodically works you open on his cock.
“I know,” he assures, still stroking your clit with the pad of his thumb, “But you can take it.”
You tearfully nod your head and do your best to relax your body, letting yourself sink into the couch. 
“Good, liebling, very good,” he coos, “Just let me in, nice and slow. Doesn’t it feel nice? The little burn of being stretched open but the pleasure of having this pretty little clit played with? Just lay back and enjoy it, little one.”
He’s right, of course. The burn aches, yes, but the pain and pleasure mixes the more he rubs your clit. You clench around him, an involuntary reaction that causes the head of his cock to finally pop in. Your eyes widen as you watch your cunt swallow it and with a perfectly timed tap against your clit, your back arches and you’re cumming.
“O-Oh König!” you squeal, eyes rolling back into your head as you cum around the head of his cock and nothing else.
“Oh, that’s good,” he grins, “That’s perfect, little one.”
As you come down with a tremble in your thighs, you finally fix your gaze on him once again.His eyes are lidded and pupils are blown so wide you can’t even tell they’re blue anymore. 
“That looked like a good one,” he comments almost flippantly before he rolls his hips forward, “Now you’re nice and ready for me.”
You choke on a gasp as he rolls his hips forward, fitting half of his cock inside your still spasming cunt. Your cum coats him in a slick sheen that aides in allowing him to pull back and slide back in, settling on fucking you on half his cock.
Your mouth falls open and you watch as a thick, milky ring forms around that fat middle part of his shaft, “M-More, König! Please!”
He knows you want all of him, want to know what it’s like to feel all of him stuffed deep inside you. But he knows you’re not quite ready for that yet, fucked out of your head from the intense orgasm he had just given you with ease.
“Not yet, liebling,” he coos, keeping his pace slow and steady, “Let’s work you open a little bit more, yeah?”
“No,” you whine, “Please, I want it all, König.”
“Aww, I know you do, little one,” he pants, already feeling dizzy from spearing you on his cock, “But I know what’s good for you, just listen to me and be good, okay?”
“Okay…” you pitifully whimper, sinking back into the couch. 
You abandon your hold on your legs, letting them rest around his hips limply now. He continues moving like that, inching deeper and deeper into you with every thrust. Your cunt makes embarrassingly loud squishing noises the move he works his hips against you. 
Before you know it, you’re watching with wide eyes and an open mouth as his pelvis presses against yours. Your eyes roll back in your head and your toes curl in pure pleasure as you finally experience the entirety of everything König has to offer. 
You’re speared wide open and the head knocks against your cervix painfully but the little bit of pain only makes the pleasure that much sweeter. 
“There we go, little one,” he coos sweetly, “I’m so proud of you, took all of my cock so well.”
He’s so big that he presses against every sweet little spot inside you without even trying. But, oh, his experience is crystal clear in the way he moves. He may be naturally gifted with a nice, fat cock but he knew how to use it.
Seamless, rhythmic thrusts had your brain going fuzzy before you even knew what was happening. You wouldn’t have been able to be quiet even if you wanted to. You knew you would be absolutely horrified to face your neighbors later because it would be impossible for them to not know you got fucked real good. 
Suddenly, König leaned over you, resting one forearm above your head to hold his weight off of you. The position caused his pelvis against your clit every time he sunk balls deep. Sticky strings of your cum stuck to his skin but he didn’t seem to even notice how wet you were.
But, oh, he did. He was absolutely obsessed with the way you creamed and gushed around him. A nice, pliant little pussy that was more than eager to swallow every inch of his cock.
The change in position had you grappling onto him, wrapping your arms around his neck as you wailed into his shoulder. Every mind-numbing snap of his hips hit that gooey, tender spot inside you that had your entire body twitching from the pleasurable stimulation. Your nails bit into his back and he briefly thought about the prospect of his recruits seeing them. 
“Are you going to cum for me?” he whispered in your ear, pressing a sweet kiss underneath your ear.
You nod your head, “Y-Yes! You’re gonna make me c-cum again, König!”
He chuckles under his breath, “I know I am, little one. I’m going to make you squirt.”
“C-Can’t,” you heave, twitchy legs kicking against his back.
“Yes, you can,” he assures, leaning away to sit up once again, “I can make you squirt, trust me.”
The whine you emit pitches into a squeal when he presses his palm against your lower stomach. You reached down in a panic to grab his wrist, not used to the strange feeling of him pressing down while he fucks you. 
“W-Wait!” you wail.
“Wait for what?” he asks, but doesn’t slow even a bit in his movements.
“F-Feels weird!” you gasp, hiccuping as you squeeze his wrist. 
“I know,” he grunts, brows furrowing at the feeling of you clenching around him, “It’s supposed to. Just lay back and let it happen, liebling. I’ve got you.”
Your whole body trembles and your jaw drops as you meet his gaze, a look of wonder crossing your face as you feel an orgasm like you’ve never felt before crash over your body. It’s long, drawn out and almost painful from how good it feels. You squeeze tight around him, your clit twitching and pulsing, completely untouched as he makes you squirt. It splashes against his abdomen and drips down his thighs. 
“There we go,” he laughs, a sound that sends a flush of embarrassment to your face, “See? I told you you could do it.”
“König…” you slur, feeling as if you’ve been fucked completely braindead.
It finally dawned on you that you would never, ever be fucked by anyone as good as König has fucked you. The first cock you’ve ever been stuffed full of and he made you squirt with terrifying ease. You were completely ruined, no dick would ever be able to compare to his. 
He sees the way your gaze turns completely enamored, looking at him like he hung the moon and stars. He grins, sharp canines poking out as he leans down again, kissing your temple.
“What is it, baby?” he coos, “Dick so good it’s got you in love?”
You keen at the pure condescension that drips from his voice. But he’s not wrong, you can practically feel the hearts in your eyes as you gaze up at him.
You have no idea how long you’ve been pinned beneath him, speared open on his cock while he fucks you absolutely stupid. You notice the change in him quite suddenly. His deep, concentrated thrust changed into something less calculated, messy almost. He loses his rhythm and falters in his pace.
“I’m going to cum, liebling,” he grunts, tone pitchy and gruff, “Where do you want it?”
“Inside!” you immediately cry, not missing a beat. He sees your eyes light up at the prospect of being filled up completely by his cum. You’re so sure it’s going to be a lot, you want to feel it drip out of you as a reminder that he had claimed you.
“Is it safe?” he huffs, but you can feel his cock twitch inside you at the idea of cumming inside you.
You desperately nod your head and he allows himself to fall over that edge. He teeters on his knees before collapsing with his hands on either side of your head. He no longer tries to thrust, settling for desperate, deep grinds that stirs his cock within your walls. Your eyes roll back in your head at the feeling, another orgasm washing over you before you even realize you’re that close.
“Oh, fuck,” König gasps, voice breaking as your orgasm sends him over the edge.
You’re panting and whimpering, trembling as you feel the heat of his load filling you up. His cock twitches with every spurt of cum. It’s the best orgasm he’s had in a long time, his balls throbbing with every pump of cum his cock spits out. 
It oozes from around the tight seal you have around him, dripping onto the couch. He’s trembling by the time the intense orgasm comes to an end. He opened his eyes, not even realizing he had closed them, to see you sleepily staring up at him with a dazed smile on your lips.
“Mein Gott…” he huffs out, lowering his body to press his lips against yours sweetly, “That was incredible, liebling.”
You beam under his praise and wrap your arms around his neck, “It was, wasn’t it?”
He chuckles and strokes his thumb against your cheek, “Let’s get cleaned up, yeah?”
“Sounds good,” you agree.
The care he gives you afterwards is like nothing you’ve ever experienced. He wipes your body down gently, careful not to rub your skin too hard. He stands with you in the shower, towering over you as he lathers your exhausted body with soap. 
“Can we do that again sometime?” You ask softly when he crawls into bed beside you – which you were shocked about, but didn’t complain.
He raises a brow and chuckles, “Yes, liebling. But not right now, I could not go another round so soon.”
You giggle and snuggle into his broad chest, practically preening when he wraps you up snug against him. You sigh softly and speak up again, “Can we…still go on that date..?”
He’s quiet for a moment before you feel a kiss on the top of your head, “Of course, liebling. I would love to.”
You smile to yourself and close your eyes, content to fall asleep wrapped up in his arms. The last thing you feel before you succumb to sleep is another soft kiss against your head. You realize, sleepily, that you’ve never felt more cared for by a man in your life.
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screampied · 1 month
Text
‘ THINK I NEED SOMEONE OLDER ! ’
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ᡴꪫ‎ synopsis. university sucks major ass. on the bright side, you’re on break—you decide to go pay your father a visit. this 'visit' ends up to you being introduced to his best friend, toji. who’s he? maybe your panties know the answer.
wc. 7.4k
warnings. fem! reader, dad's best friend! toji, age gap (reader is over twenty), praise, cunnilingús, squìrting, implied multiple órgasms, unprotected, degradation, size difference, impact play, poor dad is kinda clueless, almost caught, overstimulation.
dbf! masterlist
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“who’s he?”
a simple question — yet the moment the words ran out your mouth, it felt as if all eyes were on you. in reality, it was though. the tall man who was quite a few staggering inches taller than your own father had such a gaze. he had hands buried into the depths of his pockets, shifting his weight as he stood still before burning a stare right into you. an intense stare, you could almost make out somewhat of an intriguing smirk. that sly smile with an everlasting scar running down the right side of his mouth.
“hey honey,” your father waves out with a brief gesture. he throws an arm around the buff man before giving him a rough pat on the back. “this is toji. met him ‘bout a year ago at one of those boat races. heh, news flash—he lost.”
“woah. no need to embarrass me, man,” toji murmurs in a raspy tone and by all means was his voice deep. laced in pure baritone, far deeper than your fathers. by a mile, to be specific. his voice has a jagged huskiness to it, insanely attractive. as he spoke, his eyes flickered towards you and he’d occasionally look away with that same chaffing sneer. “but anyway,” toji averts his eyes back towards you. his cologne was loud, you could smell it from miles away from you. he pauses for a few good seconds before uttering. “it’s nice to meet ya, sweetheart.”
you gulped, suddenly feeling small. you couldn’t pinpoint what it was about him — his demeanor, the way he carried himself, anything was. but it was something that had you a bit drawn in so to speak. “i um..”
“she’s not that much of a speaker,” your father chuckles, giving you a soft rub near your back. “poor brain’s probably all fried from those midterms. right honey?”
“you don’t say.” toji raises a brow, glancing away for a moment and a smile tugged right against his his dimples—and for a moment, he was suddenly intrigued by his best friend’s daughter.
that was the initial first reaction between the two of you. you ended up staying at your father’s house for the remaining duration of your visit.
nothing too much sparked between the two of you, of course there’d be subtle moments. real subtle moments—stupid things, like having him help you grab something from one of the top shelves.
of course he’d help, he was taller than you by many many inches. effortlessly towering over you. it’s the way he’d press up against you. it was quite hard to shut those thoughts of yours up. those lewd salacious thoughts that were forever kept into the very back of your brain, silently fantasizing about your father’s best friend.
apparently, he stayed for quite around the same time you did since he and your father would typically hang, do all sorts of men activities you never really cared about—golfing, shooting ranges, watching the most recent football games. that was the most annoying part, how they’d both obnoxiously yell at the screen whenever their favorite team was pathetically losing.
your room was directly upstairs, you heard everything. it was as if the walls were merely thin. in a way, they were. the constant repetitious hollering from the two men were so irksome. eyes merely rolled to the back of your head whilst you were trying to scroll on your phone in peace.
you never did understand why a dumb game of balls would drive men so crazy. nevertheless, you let off a tiny sigh before plopping right down in your bed. immensely, you stared off into space.
you had no idea why, but the minute your eyes linger into the white nearly peeled off drywall near the ceiling, you thought about him. toji.
stupid, maybe…
it’s been a few days and you hardly knew the guy. encounters between him were subtle and brief. he’d nod his head at you, barely acknowledging your existence and going straight back to some meaningless conversation with your father.
there was one day however, one day that had you hot all over. it was when you walked in on toji, he was using the spare shower that no one really uses, it’s reserved mostly for guests—perfect for him in this case.
you remember it like it was yesterday. since you were wide awake during this time for whatever reason, your dad sent you to go replace some towels from downstairs since he was doing laundry so you mindlessly make your way downstairs. the door was visibly cracked. sure, you probably should have knocked but who takes showers around three am?
apparently, this guy.
toji was literally just getting out the shower when you walked in. steam fogged throughout the entire space.
it was hot, stuffy and dampened with mist clinging against the rectangular mirrors. smothered with fog, you practically end up bumping right into something hard.
to be specific, that something was toji’s broad chest. maybe you were a bit delusional but you could have sworn, the moment you made contact with his bulky pecs, it moved upon impact.
“excuse you, sweetheart,” toji would scoff teasingly, his low voice was a bit more rougher since it was late at night. you were definitely speechless, barely able to process a single word from your mouth. thankfully a towel was wrapped around his slim torso—yet you started to wish maybe he didn’t have it protecting his lower half.
your eyes stuck to his chest the entire time, talk about embarrassing. immediately, your pretty dilated pupils ran down his chest, down his v-line, his perfectly structured build . . and then, his happy trail. he was well trimmed of the sort, practically. toji’s version of well trimmed was a bit hairy. regardless, it was still an attractive feature.
the more your eyes rove, the more you glance at his nearly perfectly sculptured structure. his chest was painted with a plethora of battle scars, now you were the one intrigued. you wanted to know more.
“you’re a little rude, huh,” and you abruptly snap from your thoughts. it was so brusque…
returning back to reality, out of that lewd trance you were so desperately trapped in—you blink twice, not even realizing how he was right up close to you. toji stares down at you before sneering. “it’s like three am. shouldn’t you be in bed?”
you shift your feet a bit, maintaining a little distance before trying to reply in the best nonchalant way possible. “uh no,” and then you utter awkwardly. “shouldn’t you be in bed? who randomly wakes up to take showers this late?”
“guys my age,” he jibes. “ya wouldn’t get it.”
you deadpan, fully aware it was a joke but you held everything in you to not have your eyes roll all the way back. “whatever,” and then you nearly forget what you were about to do. he watches you, you open near the lower cabinet and replace the clean towels. it grew profoundly quiet, a pin could drop. the moment you turned around, toji scoffs to himself. “did you need anything? something else?”
“ah. thank you, i’m fine, princess,” toji huffs with a sly grin. he reaches near the small wooden table to grab what seemed to be a half-used lotion bottle. however, you didn’t expect for him to completely change the topic, flipping your own words around with a blunt, “do you need something?”
“huh?”
“you heard me, girl.”
the banter…
he was definitely cocky, playful, literally any other synonym would fit.
you hated how he’d get you speechless everytime. you loathed how he was such an effect on you. with a brief gnaw on your bottom lip you narrow your eyes, mumbling out a, “stupid question.”
“i agree,” toji smirks. “but eh. y’er a smart girl. ‘m sure you can come up with a good comeback soon.”
he was so annoying, entirely so.
it’d be simple interactions like that between the two of you. much to your surprise though, nothing really else happened. toji would tease you a bit then pretend nothing happened, throw you a compliment or two and call it a day.
toji would often visit daily or twice a day, mainly to hang with your father. you could care less about what they did, but you were bored out of your mind from being in the house all day. you could go out, but it’s not like you had anyone to go with. everyone was either busy or … busy. besides, most of your friends were on exotic vacations or out of the country—you sighed, rubbing a hand against your stomach as you stared in the ceiling wall.
but then, the most lasciviously filthy thought made its way into your thoughts. you thickly swallowed before reaching a hand down between your legs. the air grew abnormally dry, shame…
to be completely honest, you couldn’t even remember the last time you touched yourself. this couldn’t have ever been a more perfect time. you were sure your father and his cocky best friend was out at top golf, probably.
intaking a single breath, you lean back against your pillow—slowly, you started to focus on your breathing.
parting your legs, you lightly pull down your shorts before tugging your panties to the side. you wince for a little, realizing how you were already a bit soaked. a little dampened spot right towards the front part of your underwear. you knew it had to be from pondering about toji.
speaking of, you remember that time where he helped—well, ‘attempted’ to cook dinner that one time. all you could focus on was his hands. such rough thick hands, you wondered what’d it feel like to have those same hands gingerly wrap around your throat. such thick fingers shove down your throat while he calls you such degrading names—just anything.
the more you were deep in thought, the more drenched you started to become. you went slow, being patient with yourself. you imagined it was toji’s fingers instead of yours. such big fingers thrusting in and out of you.
steadily, you start to insert a single finger in. a middle finger, it felt good, you suppressed a single moan and by this point, your imagination was running wild. you allowed your body to relax for a few moments before you slipped another finger inside. seconds later, you started to gentle move around inside your clit. your pace was sweet and precise—you let out a soft moan that rang throughout your thin walls. “toji—f-fuckkk.”
your voice was shaky, imagining toji being here right now made you throb ten times more. just propped all up behind you, thrashing his fingers against your swollen folds made you more aroused than you ever thought. your thrusts against your own entrance was small, a steady pace but irregular enough to make your knees start to buckle.
throwing your head back a little, you started to whine as each second dragged. your breath became insignificantly heavy, hitched and all. you made sure to stimulate in all the right areas, adapting to a perfect rhythm, then that’s when you’re rudely interrupted. talk about a cliche.
“hey. is it anymore detergen—”
toji pauses mid sentence, literally trying to process the scenery in front of him. he stands still and his initial reaction was slow. the first thing he does is chortle lowly. “well, shit. is this a bad time?”
you’ve never felt anymore embarrassed in your life, a sudden wave of heat rushed over your body before you quickly shielded yourself with your blanket. “oh my god,” you’d squeak out, and toji averts his eyes elsewhere for a few seconds. “i thought you all left already.”
toji hums. he takes a moment, and it’s as if he’s thinking of what to say. he was amused, seeing your flustered state and he looks back at you. “we were but it got canceled last minute since a storm’s approaching,” and you let off a soft gulp, hearing his footsteps creak against your wooden floor as he got closer. “thank god it was me who came in here ‘n not your father, right princess? now that’d be embarrassing.”
“stop calling me that,” you grumble, and you don’t even realize how soft and weak your voice was. you slowly pull your fingers out before intaking another sharp breath. he glanced at you before simpering. “haven’t you heard of knocking?”
“girl,” toji utters in a low rasp. “the door was wide open. i can’t knock on air,” and you mentally eye rolled — he was so insufferable. incredibly so, toji’s eyes roam across your old room that was a bit scattered with some boxes from when you moved out four years ago. it was a bit unkempt, your father usually used your room sometimes just to store things from the attic. toji buried his hands into his pockets before chuckling. “i heard you, ya know. moaning my name all loud like that.”
you blinked thrice, sitting up before compressing your eyebrows together. “what?”
“whaaat?” he jeers, mocking you. toji inches closer towards you until he was right beside your bedside. you gaze up at him and he had a blunt sticking out from the corner of his lips. he looked so appetizing, even while dressed down. ripped jeans and a sweatshirt. you could tell he was fit, of course he was—you saw him shirtless. he was well likely in his early thirties, dressing so laid back and casual. “between you and me, sweetheart, you can do better. ‘s cute ‘n all but that’s not how ya finger yourself. been a while, yeah?”
this guy, he was so bold. casually speaking his dirty mind, not afraid to say anything.
you don’t know why, but those last few words made you throb. you loathed how right he was, it was as if he could read you like a book. between studies and actually living a university student’s life, you barely ever get time to yourself. time to please yourself.
“whatever,” you utter. “yeah... it’s been a while.”
“poor thing,” he clicks his tongue before taking a seat on your bed. it jitters from his weight for a bit before he peers a gaze at you. “hm,” he puffs out, dragging a hand against his jeans. “i’d be happy to help though. those useless fingers of yours can only please you so much, right? heh.”
this indescribable effect he had on you, it heavily irked your nerves. “…please,” and you don’t even register what quickly came out of your mouth.
you were so pent up by this point, being interrupted. you wanted to finish, you desperately wanted to finish. your soft breaths hitched, and toji’s intimate stare lingered on you for a bit. his loud cologne started to waft across the entire room, so intoxicating. “just make me finish, please.”
“there’s those manners,” he coos in a husky tone, and he gets up closer. he was purely teasing you, you just wanted to feel his touch . . . feel something at least. he pulls the fat cover that went over you, yet at a more tantalizingly slow pace. he was a mere tease, you nearly let off a whine once you felt the tips of his warm fingers skim past your thighs. “messy girl,” he mumbles, and then he pauses to glance at you. “are you sure? jus’ wanna-”
“toji,” you mutter, and you liked hearing you roll his name so sweetly off your tongue. seeing you grow purely frustrated was utter amusement to him. the way your eyebrows would curl and furrow, irises flaring and your jaw slightly tensing. you had such readable body language by default too. “please. i want you. just touch me.”
he simpers. “pretty please.”
“……”
again, he was so infuriating. you felt yourself starting to pant, not knowing how much longer you could take as he started to softly trail a thumb against your skin. his touch was so warm, it was intense and ignited something within you.
“touch me—pretty please, toji.” you mutter out, sprawling your legs out just a bit. it was so hot, the temperature surrounding the atmosphere of the room was so humid. he glances at you before smiling.
“that’s a good girl.”
his words warmed your heart in such a lewd provocative way, you just wanted his touch.
desperately yearning for it, toji leans up close, bringing a big hand to part your legs apart and he was so slow. he takes the blunt that was propped up between his teeth, setting it aside near your nightstand. you prepare to inhale deeply, not expecting him to then bring a tender kiss towards your inner thighs. he started to create a trail—a trail that gingerly went up and up and up.
“so sensitive,” he’d purr, watching your own body melt from just the softness of his lips against your skin. you wanted him to hurry, you replayed this exact scenario over and over at least a dozen times. now that it was reality, you just knew that your body wanted him. “oh. don’t give me that look,” and he smirks, watching the pout grow against your lips. “gonna stare at me all day or are ya gonna tell me how you’d like for me to start?”
“i need you to—eat me out,” you huff out in short singular breaths. you were throbbing rapidly, each moment he stalled to speak, the more aroused you grew. his warm breath just fanning against your folds had you nearly going weak.
he snickers. “need?” he repeats, and you moan once he swiftly drags a finger down your soaked cunt. it was drenched, but it could be a bit more. toji hums to himself cockily. “you don’t need shit, girl. fix your sentence ‘n talk proper..”
“i—” you gripe, starting to grow more and more frustrated. your vexed facial expression amused him. he raises his darkened brows, awaiting for your answer and the cute pout that continued to stretch across your lips was so cute. “i— i want you to eat me out, pretty please.”
“much better,” he says in a low gruff. the moment he finally hovers his mouth over your sopping clit, toji gently strokes a thumb up and down. opening you up slowly, he creates a single slow lick to make you whimper. “i’ll make ya cum quicker than you ever could, princess.”
and you knew he probably wouldn’t lie about a simple fact like that. toji’s touch, it was sloppy.
without a doubt, he was a messy eater.
just one taste of you and he was hooked—a new addiction for him and it wasn’t gambling.
you tasted sweet, candied even. he was in so deep, occasionally the tip of his nose would prod against your entrance. you slumped back against the bed, your legs twitching in pleasure. not before long, your lips started to part and you started to gnaw on your hardened knuckles. you didn’t wanna be too loud—you just remembered your father was right downstairs.
he didn’t have the best hearing in the world, but knowing you, you could be a bit overzealous with your moans.
the noises his tongue made, sliding his tongue between your folds, sucking and nibbling. he even broke away his lips just to spit a nice wad onto your pussy. you watched the entire time, mesmerized. he was so nasty—nasty and you only wanted more. toji continued to drag a thumb against your slit, lapping up your slick arousal that was already starting to drip down his chin. it ran further down, a bit of his trimmed facial hair now soaked with your sweetness.
“how’s it feel, princess,” he’d mutter out, briefly departing his lips away. as he does—you stare as a pretty cobweb of his own spit tugs against your own entrance. glistening and all, it was so sheeny. he was right between your precious thighs, and you couldn’t help but give his ruffled dark hair a light pull. “tell me how i make you feel. talk to me nice, girl.”
“good,” you whimper, nearly choking on your own saliva. your words were so trembly, you could hardly recognize yourself. it’s been a while since you’ve been eaten out, let alone being intimate. as you continued to let off irregular breathing patterns, you swallow. “f-feels good.”
“just good?” he’d tease, bringing a long suck towards your clit. you let off a whine once he playfully nibbles near that particular spot with his teeth. his tongue scrapes against your folds time and time again. it’s indescribable—toji’s head shook back and forth as he was nose deep into your pussy. for a moment, he sounds offended.
toji gives your cunt a sweet little kiss, and he feels it start to hastily pulse from doing so.
he knew you were getting close, all from a simple cue from his tongue. speaking of toji’s tongue . . it was lengthy.
so long, it reached areas that had your eyes mindlessly rolling back.
cute little cacophonies of, “oh my g-godddd,” repeated ghosts past your lips as you started to practically drag his face against you. the texture of his tongue—so moist and slick, already wet from obvious reasons, but grew even more dampened from your sheer arousal. it was a taste his tastebuds grew to crave more of. “gonna c-cum toji. f-fuckkk.”
“you’re gonna wait for me, little girl,” he grouses, and your irises fleetingly dilate. he gifts the entrance of your cunt with another string of spit, then he rubs a few circles against it. mean vigorous circles that made your legs pathetically twitch. “you make a mess when i tell you too.”
he was so mean.
such sternness in his tone, yet it turned you on. that slight secretive rasp that hid underneath his voice. toji breaks his lips away for a moment, glaring at you before focusing near the crevices of your thighs. he teasingly slides his tongue upward, away from your most sensitive area just to watch you squirm.
“toji,” you’d whimper, feeling his tongue just roam everywhere from below. he was so skilled, you’ve never had a man be so sloppy. at least in a way that toji was. he greedily sucks near your thighs, gently sinking his canines into the plush of your thighs before going back towards your pussy. “i can’t—can’t hold..”
you were barely able to finish your sentence, and that’s when you came — it was so sudden and abrupt. gushing all out of you and your nerves had your mind spiraling. a constant crazed loop.
it felt like a wave, a tsunami crashing down and it felt so good.
your orgasm that shortly followed was so loud, you didn’t even bother trying to cover your mouth. toji chuckles, cupping his mouth around the very top part of your achey slit before lapping his tongue against your hood. your hips temporarily quavered due to his tongue, and you still maintained a rough grip on his head.
“easy on the fuckin’ hair,” he’d grunt after feeling you roughly yank on his strands bringing a kiss towards your slick entrance. you swallowed, your legs feeling practically mush before he brings a terse spank towards your clit. “cute ‘n all, but i didn’t say you could finish yet.”
“s-sorry,” you’d breathe out, still feeling the after effects of your intense high. it was so good, your eyes were all hooded and droopy. toji saw a bit of drool seeping from the corners of your mouth and hums silently.
he sighs, leaning up before getting on top of you. he hovers himself and you stare up at him. he rests both arms over you, groping near the rickety headrest before leaning up close to your face.
“are you sorry, sweetheart?” and he gets up a bit closer, green viridescent eyes glance right into you—you smelled the mint and brief tang of alcohol residing on his tongue. using another hand to grab your chin, he softly pulls your bottom lip down before derisively grinning. “aw. nothing to say? no back talk this time?”
“i… want a kiss,” you pant, feeling his warm body just inches away from colliding against yours. just a single inch and he’d be grinding on you. “kiss me.”
“oh i dunno. sounds like a demand, babygirl,” he’d sneer, and your eyes leer near his scar. it was damp a little from him just being between your thighs a moment ago. perhaps it was a bit filthy, but you wanted to taste it. taste him. “ask me the right way.”
you pout, staring right into his eyes. “i wan— can i get a kiss, pretty please. i just want a kiss.”
“course ya can,” he utters, and that’s right when he squeezes your chin. your lips were plump and glossy. toji stares at you back for a long while, studying your cute expressions before he leans right in. the kiss was passionate, it felt so wrong but felt so right. you moaned the second his lips crashed onto yours. he finds it cute, feeling your arms rub and feel around his slim waist. you were pulling him closer — a sign that you wanted more of him. toji teasingly grinds his hefty body against you, and you whimper in his mouth once you feel his thick bulge prod against your panties that were halfway on you. “mhm.” he’d groan.
while his tongue skims against yours, you part your lips a bit for him and the incoming savory taste you’d get a treat out of.
you made sure to savor it, so sweet with a bit of spice.
running your tongue against his, breaking away to lick near his chin, softly making sure to lick near his stubble—you cleaned your own mess off of him. without him asking you either, toji grunts as he watched you through his peripherals. he’d never expect his best friend to have such a nasty girl for a daughter.
“y’er fuckin’ filthy,” he mumbles, breaking away and watching both strands of spit leave and depart. your lips curv into a cute needy scowl before he heard your father suddenly call out from downstairs.
“honey? i said, was that a scream…? is everything okay?”
your eyes widen, not even knowing your father was speaking—yelling actually. toji snickers, and now he’s the one suddenly quiet. prick.
“o-oh um,” you clear your throat, sitting up and that’s when toji starts to create soft chaste kisses near the inside of your neck. you nearly moaned before turning your head to speak. “i’m—i’m fine. i thought i saw a cockroach.”
“cockroach? do you need me to come up and—”
“no!” you’d quickly reply before clearing your throat once more. you let off a sigh, feeling toji start to suck near your collarbone. “i mean, no dad. i’m okay. thanks anyways.”
“okay honey, if you say so.”
toji chortles. “fuck. you’re bad at lying. just tell y’er old man you were getting eaten out by me.”
you glare at him, immensely bringing your brows into a furrow. “no, i’m not gonna say that. are you crazy?”
“maybe.”
you eye rolled, yet part of you felt like he wasn’t exactly lying. after all, he could probably be insane—perhaps he was.
you didn’t know, and to be frank, you didn’t really care. all you really cared about was getting pleasured—riding out orgasm after orgasm with him, and that’s exactly what you ended up doing for hours on end.
toji would find himself leaned back against your pillow, studying your hips carefully before grinning.
the moment you lightly shove him back, he clicks his tongue. “oh?” he says, and you already sprung his dick out. he was very much hard, presenting you with an upward slight curve. you licked your lips, hovering over him before giving him a few strokes. a groan slips past his lips and your thumb brushes against the various veins that ran just below his foreskin. “y’er gonna ride me? can a sweet girl like you even handle it?”
“shut up,” you’d fuss, and he just smirks at you. you wanted to wipe that smug expression from his face. he knew just how to irritate your nerves. toji watches you throw your leg over him, a simple hook around. you’re straddling him now and he brings two rough hands to attach near your hips. you lean in to kiss him again and he returns it, slowly tilting his head back and your arms wrap around him. he feels you reach down, grabbing ahold of his shaft before softly sliding the head of his dick near your slick entrance. “s-shit. you’re big.”
“i try not to disappoint,” he slyly says, sliding a thumb near your hips. his voice was so low, so pompous and arrogant. you give him a glare but he only hums out of pure amusement. “barely the tip in ‘n y’er struggling. need my help, sweetheart?”
you ignored him and he smirks, allowing you to do your thing—you bring one hand towards his chest, gently feeling near his perfectly chiseled abs. he was so toned, tracing against his tense muscles and he watches your every move. it was as if time was stood still, he chuckles at how eager you were. you weren’t like him, you weren’t patient and thorough. you were a bit more rushed and sloppy—cute, it was very much cute to him though.
a moan goes past your lips once the wet tip of his slowly starts to sink inside. it had a few droplets of pre-cum leaking down, and you slowly rocked your hips in place to get comfortable. his eyes go lower to focus more on your body, the grip he had on your waist was so rough and sensual. because toji was so thick — it took you a good six minutes, six precise minutes to reach all the way down to the base. your lips opened a bit, and you let off a soft shrilling whimper once you did a cute attempt at jerking forward.
“take it slow,” he purrs in such a rasp, you leisurely started to lurch back and forth once he was buried all the way down to the hilt. you inhale deeply and he was so hefty. balls deep, swollen balls that was hidden and engulfed beneath your inner walls. “atta girl.” he praises, watching you try to maintain a decent rhythm.
ringing went throughout your ears, you felt all hot.
toji playfully brings a hand to feel near your tummy. you were wearing some old university hoodie. it was comfortable, but much to his surprise, you didn’t have a bra underneath. he hums to himself, and you let off a moan once his hand trails ever further. further and further until his thumb brushes against your perky nipples.
“t— toji,” you’d moan, and another hand of his was tightly clinging onto the left part of your waist. you were riding him smoothly. yet since he was so big, you started to feel your thighs building up with drowsiness. your efforts were cute to him, so desperately eager to get off.
his black lashes flicker, and the way he’s all leaned back and manspread was so attractive—you felt your back start to naturally arch and it didn’t take long for toji to reach that particular spot. once you felt his tip prod against there—way past inside the orifices of your cunt, you let off a sweetened whimper. “found it,” he whispers, bringing you close towards his chest. you lean into his touch, intaking his cologne into your nose before your hand starts to wander all over his body. he liked how handsy you were, slipping a hand right underneath his shirt to feel a part of his abs. you made sure to trace directly on each line, each tender flexing muscle. all the way down onto his sharp v-line. further down, you started to feel his happy trail. your favorite.
he grunts, feeling the softness of your hands meander freely. “that’s it, sweetheart,” he gruffs in a sharp breath. an imaginary lump getting caught in his throat — he was holding both of your hips upright and by this point you were slamming right onto his thick cock. “touch me more. feel all over me baby.”
“can i—” you started, leaning in to kiss near the crook of his neck. your voice was soft, a bit trembly before your hands went up this time. feeling near his pecs before a breath gets caught in his throat. “can i feel here, toji?”
“f-fuckin’ girl,” he groans, a chill running down his spine the second he feels you gently rubbing a thumb against his nipples this time. toji was surprisingly far more sensitive despite his rough front he was putting up, it was a bit cute. after all, he did say feel all over you. toji was panting now, while you rode him continuously, he swiped a few beads of sweat from his forehead. “whatever.”
you giggle, watching him now be the one with a pouty expression this time. you plant a kiss near where his slanted scar went down his lip before he spanks your ass. “just ‘cause ‘m sensitive there doesn’t mean ‘m gonna get all whiney for you, girl,” he utters in a raspy tone. the sharp sting from the spank felt good.
you felt yourself twitch between your thighs whilst your hips moved in harmony. you do a little back bend with your hips, constantly jerking against him and he grunts with how slow yet sloppy your movements were. “keep goin’ slow like that. ‘m gonna—cum.”
his voice consistently got deeper, and the tips of his fingers gently pierced into your skin—you were vocal yourself though. moan after moan, a constant repeat. you found yourself whining out his name as if it was a lewd mantra. over and over again, to toji though, it was purely music to his ears.
he feels you start to slow down a bit though, exactly at the minute he tells you he was approaching his incoming release. toji clenched his jaw, gifting the fat of your ass with another mean spank. “f-fuck. keep fuckin’ me. make me fuckin’ cum.”
you plant kisses near his neck this time, near the very inside and you swiftly quicken your pace a little. he was stuffing you full of thick inches, full of such girth that had your tongue salivating right in your mouth. you could only imagine what it’d feel like to have his seed pouring into you. you couldn’t lie to yourself, ever since you saw toji shirtless. his bulge sticking out through his towel, you only imagined he’d be so full of cum to give. you tilt your hips backwards, and he lets off a husky groan.
that particular spot reached so deep, you felt it too. his cockhead pokes and taps repeatedly against your sweet spot and you sob out a needy, “f-fuck, ‘s right there,” you tilt forward and he’s just about reaching his peak. the longer you took, the more spanks you received.
toji was a patient man, but only for so long.
the bed frame creaked constantly, it was the only tune that played in the background. he slithers a hand down between your thighs and spanks your cunt a few times. you whimpered, already a bit sensitive but felt something else approaching. “toji— toji.”
toji groans, the build up nearly taking his breath away. with your rhythmic thrusts against him, his eyes merely roll and he has to take a minute to catch his breath. you wrap a hand around his throat—tenderly of course—then place your lips onto his once he finally finishes inside of you.
he didn’t expect for you to choke him, but he liked it.
he liked how forward you were, your thumb lightly grazed against his adam’s apple, and a deep grunt gets trapped in his throat. your cunt was practically overflowed with such dumps of his cum—you’ve never felt more filled. toji shook a little, a hand gripping your ass as you kissed him.
slowly, he started to feel himself get addicted.
he already was addicted from having a simple taste of you earlier, but he was getting infatuated. you had him whipped, and he knew this probably wouldn’t be a one time thing.
albeit, the last thing you expect is to pull away from the kiss once you feel a sudden pressure brewing up within you.
momentarily, you whine—feeling a sudden familiar wetness coat his base. nerves all throughout your body had you locked in a trance, and you pause your hips before toji tsks.
“little girl,” he mumbles with a sly smile. “did you just squirt on me?”
it was so unexpected, you pant heavily—heave after heave leaving your lips before you moan out a sweet, “y-yes.”
“don’t be shy about it. i like when it’s messy,” he sneers, his eyes tantalizingly trailing down your body once more before he lifts you up just a bit from his shaft. he observes the lewd mess, how much cum trickled past your thighs and he hums. “wanna do that again? i bet i can do it in five minutes, baby.”
to say you were being treated like a rag doll was an understatement.
toji was ruthless with you, ruthless with you in your own house. well, ex-house. you didn’t live here anymore but you used to.
he coaxed orgasm after orgasm out of you like it was nothing. making you imitate and try positions you’ve never even heard of—you were getting stretched, easily said. it’s been hours by this point, you weren’t even in your room anymore. you were in the bathroom with him.
toji had you propped up against the door, you’re taking him from behind and you’re roughly biting down on your lip.
entirely so, it was still risky.
your father was right outside near the living room doing who knows what. probably watching some sports program—yet of course, he started to grow curious of where his best pal went. initially, toji said he had to use the restroom.
like four hours ago . .
he was so mean too, spanking your ass numerous times. your ass was perked upright for him, and you’re leaning against the door. you whimpered, feeling him grip on your panties that he refused to pull off of you.
oh, he likes seeing it dangle and thwack against your skin. the pretty fabric just cutely rubbing against your thighs. his weight just barely hovers against you and he’s smacking right into you.
your cunt swallowed his hefty inches each and every time—by this point, you weren’t sure if you could even give him one more.
you lost count of how many mind blowing orgasms that you were just completely intoxicated from his dick and his dick alone.
toji’s rough bare hands grab onto both parts of your ass, spreading it before deepening his strokes just a bit. you moaned, feeling every inch store inside of your sweet cunt. he knew just where to hit you. you breathe through your mouth and your nose at the same time, heavy cute pants that started to fog up the door’s material.
“fuck, fuck me f-fuckkk,” you’d drag out, and your back naturally arches just from a teasing touch of his finger racing down your back.
your ass was held up high and your cheek was softly nudging against the cold door. another build up was approaching and you were just so in awe—you were literally thinking, where has he been all your life? “close, ‘m getting closer.”
“bet you are. drippin’ all on me ‘n it’s fuckin’ nasty,” he replies—yet you freeze once you hear footsteps approach the door. it was your father, right when you were about to cum—you feel toji’s hand wrap around your mouth. your eyes roll backwards, and then he speaks through the other end of the door.
“toji? hehe, did ya fall in there man? you’re missing the game. we’re down by four points.”
toji chuckles, hearing a tiny muffled squeak go past your lips. he was balls deep, giving you such thick vigorous inches. that’s when he leans right up close to you—a hand still propped to have your mouth shut before whispering in a raspy tone. “you gotta be quiet, sweetheart. you want y’er old man to hear you make a sloppy mess on me?”
you shake your head, making an attempt to try and suck on his fingers and be smiles. “messy baby.”
your mouth was now stuffed with nothing but his thick fingers. you moaned, coating each digit with your glistening saliva as he pounded right into you. the grip your cunt had on him made him groan. eyes roll into the depths of your cranium so far back that your vision was pure black. squelch after squelch, it was so erotic. the build up of your incoming release yet again.
it was so slow and tense, you felt your thighs ache and tremble the more you were arched all over for him. the most sluttiest arch he’s seen in a while.
“huh—oh, nah man i’m good,” toji replies with a simper. you were trying so hard to be quiet, if your father heard anything, that’d be a wrap for you.
dying out of pure embarrassment certainly wasn’t on your bucket list for sure. the way toji responded was so casual, almost as if he wasn’t just happily drilling into his best friend’s cunt in his own home. “four points? shit. defense can’t do anything right.”
“telllll me about it! i could play better with my eyes closed, damn.”
you found it so irksome how they were casually having a dumb conversation whilst you were just about to gush right onto toji’s shaft—you felt him dip his hips into you deeper though, and you let off a sweet whine.
toji leans into your ear and whispers. “you’re doing a good job, sweetheart,” and then he chuckles. removing his hand, you nearly let off the most loudest orgasm imaginable but you kept it together by biting your tongue. it was a cute squeal, and as your legs part you made such a mess.
again…
it was probably the umpteenth time.
while you ride out your release, he’s slowing down his strokes and stares at the excess cum filling up your entrance. toji licks his lips, dragging a thumb to plug it all back in once he pulls out. he didn’t like putting things to waste. you whimper, feeling so taken aback from how stuffed full you were.
it was an awkward silence, you felt a sharp scare in your stomach once you thought your father heard everything — but thankfully so, he plopped right back down on the couch. toji lets you take a moment to calm down, and then he brings a wet kiss towards your lips. you were so sensitive, trembling within his hold—you didn’t want him to leave just now.
“atta girl,” he purrs, that same sly smile pressing against his lips as he brings a thumb towards your lip. his gaze was so hypnotizing. such pools of green eyes looked like it had a story to tell, and perhaps you wanted to know just who toji fushiguro really was.
maybe that story is ready for another day though.
thankfully you didn’t get caught.
or did you—you had to leave out the bathroom first, then toji after about a lengthy minute time difference so it wouldn’t be remotely suspicious. once the both of you were out, after about an hour of you all crammed up and watching the boring never ending basketball game, your dad ends up going to the bathroom.
while he was occupied, you leaned against toji and he wraps an arm around you. he could tell you wanted more—but his gaze was stern, telling you with his eyes to basically be a good girl and be patient.
a few seconds pass before you father bellows out a pitched, “erm. toji? is this shampoo—? what’s this white stuff over the sink? doesn’t look like shampoo.”
the both of you share the same frozen expression, impish smiles fading before you nudge toji to speak after long seconds passes.
“huh? oh, that’s uh mayonnaise. i forgot to clean up after myself.”
“aren’t you allergic to mayonnaise?”
you mentally facepalm, watching toji break into a sheepish sweat before he gruffs out a low, “i guess not that brand of mayonnaise.”
“right. riiiight,” your father mutters, and you heard sudden shifting. it was abrupt, and you felt something fall — probably a brush from the familiar after sound, you then hear your dad add a follow up question. “wait a minute,” and he glances down near the floor. “are these panties?”
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tojisun · 3 months
Text
!! female reader; dirty talking; breeding kink; slight overstim play; unrealistic sex x’>
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thinking about how simon’s the type to keep saying filth to you when he’s balls deep. how, in the throes of his pleasure, so pussy-drunk, simon begins to wax poetry about the way you make him feel.
he’s got you folded in a mating press, his lips ghosting wet kisses along your trembling legs. “god, baby,” simon murmurs, his voice a drunken slur. “i need t’wife you up, i swear.” he punctuates this with a thrust, before his fingers pinch your clit.
you choke at the feeling, your legs kicking from where they’re slung over simon’s shoulders. your head thrashes against the pillow, not knowing how else to tether yourself from the stinging pleasure, your mouth falling open uselessly as garbled moans spill out.
“oh this,” he says, distracted by your reaction. “cute little thing, isn’t it?” he looks at your pussy almost with a starry-eyed gaze.
jesus-
“shu-ut up, si!” your voice breaks, weakened from the moans, but simon’s already looking too far gone, his eyes blown wide and his face flushed because of his pleasure.
“y’just squeezed me tighter, baby.” simon rips his eyes from your cunt to look at you with a sort of giddy trance. “y’like it when i play with–” he circles his thumb on your clit, making you squeal. “this? yeah? oh, lovie, you’re gushing.”
he pulls out, torturously slow, teasing, then he’s slamming back in. your ears ring at the resounding wet slide, his pelvis meeting your own with a goddamn squelch, and you scream, clawing at his back at the sharp pleasure that razes through you.
“going t’stuff you w’my cum everyday, baby.” simon giggles. “going t’make you so full.”
he nuzzles his nose on the side of your tear-soaked cheek. “y’want that, yeah? want t’feel sore because of how much cum’s stored in you? want t’be fucked until it takes?”
what-
“si! si!” you cry, mushy mind trying to understand what he’s insinuating. “wha- wh-…?”
“oh but you’d be so gorgeous, baby,” simon groans, his hand leaving your oversensitive clit to hike up along your body, dancing past your groin to plant just below your belly button. simon nuzzles close again, tracing the shell of your ear with his lips, then, “you’d be so pretty carrying my kids.”
those words make your body lock up, something in your mind just shifting right, and then you’re cumming, squirting all over simon’s cock and spraying on his legs.
simon outright moans, pulling back just enough to slot his lips against yours. you couldn’t even kiss him back, still so busy cumming, all cross-eyed at the intensity of your orgasm. it doesn’t matter to him, anyway, not when simon begins pistoning harder. faster. rougher.
every drag of his cock back in your pussy pushes more gushing squirt from you, and simon rumbles with a pleased groan, looking so blissed out as he leaves open-mouthed kisses along your jaw. you dig your nails at his back but simon doesn’t even register the prickling pain, too busy chasing his own orgasm through your cunt.
“s’right,” he coos. “nothin’ else could make me cum, baby. nothin’ else but y’r pretty pussy. y’r tight pussy. god, it’s such a delicious pussy, baby, how am i so lucky to have you, huh?” his words mingle with the thwap-thwap-thwap sounds of his body slamming against your own. it makes you dizzy with pleasure, ragged rasps of breath is all that is passing through your parted lips.
simon croons. “how’d i chance luck and end up w’such a delight?” another wet sound from your pussy rings amidst his words. “mmm, hear that baby?”
you nod, you think. or you moan a reply. honestly, you don’t even know, not with how dizzy you are at the peaking pleasure because there’s no way you’re cumming again–
“that’s the sounds that a happy wife makes,” simon purrs, replying to his own question, and the weight of his words washes over you like the pleasure that’s racing across your synapses. “that’s the sound that someone makes when they want to be bred.”
“simo-nnnnn!” you scream, the sound guttural and ragged, and your eyes can no longer see anything, and your ears are ringing, and- and–
simon laughs, the sound curling into something so, so fond. “y’r so pretty when y’cum, baby.” he kisses your wet cheek. “one more? f’r me?”
fuck-
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garoujo · 7 months
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✩ ˛˚ . GOJO SATORU — sometimes your boyfriend’s want for you just seems to be insatiable.
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ஜ ˖ ࣪࿐ྂ warnings! f!reader, mating press, breeding, biting, he loses control of his technique a teeny tiny bit at the end, im going absolutely insane. ♡ ˖ ࣪࿐ྂ note! hiii this is a lil mix of my gojo thoughts over the past few months, my sanity is slipping as u can tell <3
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the way gojo satoru was in bed was exactly how he was in real life, absolutely merciless when he wanted to be, you realise with the dizzy haze in your mind and the pillow he’s shoved under your hips. there’s a pleasurable burn in your thighs where he’s got them folded into you, your ankles dangling by his ears as his hips press into your ass and the way he looks over you is needy, and a little wild.
but he only really got like this on on a few occasions, like after a gruelling mission, a boring mountain of paperwork or maybe you’d been teasing him. sometimes he’s just consumed by the idea of you carrying his kids— he’s so incredibly insatiable.
“you feel me right here, sweet thing, hm?” the snowy haired man above you hisses with a languid roll of his hips, deliberately pressing into the sweet spots inside of you that he always seems to be able to find so easily. but you can barely breathe, nevermind answer with how full you feel — your warm walls twitching around his heavy shaft before he’s giving you a few more thrusts.
“don’t hold out on me, it feels good, right?” gojo goads, chuckles when the next particularly deep kiss of his cock along your insides has your lips parting to moan, eyes squeezing shut as you wriggle underneath him.
“‘ts too deep, satoru! fuck—“ you manage, voice breaking under the weight of your own arousal but shit— he loves you like this. pliant and pretty and all his. you’re basically begging for him to give you his soul, to pour it into your body and your bones until you’re twitching— his stamina was limitless after all, an endless pool of energy.
“oh? but i’m sure you can take more..” gojo’s words are a low drawl as he curls over your folded figure, making your muscles scream for some sort of relief but he still manages to give you more. he begins a pace that’s so deep, so animalistic that you feel like you could black out with the way the pleasure rips through you, making your body clap against his as his balls smack loudly against your ass and suddenly he’s even deeper.
“see, i knew it.” it’s smug despite the the trembling undercurrent to his tone, breaking under the weight of his own arousal as his voice takes an octave higher. but you’re doing so well for him, your eyes are rolled back— lips parted and you’re basically begging for him to go harder when he leans into press his lips against yours, pushing his name between your lips as your hands grab at him for any sort of relief.
“almost there, right?” gojo groans against you with the next quiver of your walls; the next particularly heavy thrust makes your thighs tremble and he’s so deep it almost hurts, making something spark and burn along your inside as he fucks you into the mattress like a wild animal.
you whimper, barely— it’s a desperately pathetic little sound, wound up tight and it makes him pull away to look at you, crystalline eyes cloudy with lust before his lips are stretching into a smirk.
“oh, more?” gojo’s head cocks to the side and you know you’re done for when his pace picks up, every heavy thrust is driven by the muscles in his body and your pussy squelches loudly with every wet connection of his hips.
“oh, i’ll give you more, baby. so greedy f’ me, hm?” despite his teasing, he’s babbling— sweat beading along his skin as the snowy peaks of his hair frame his flushed features and fuck, the pretty sight above you only makes you feel even better. you’re so high off his desperation, every muscle in your body screams under his but the nerves in your body cry even louder with how good you feel— with how much your body craves him.
“‘ts so tight, you milkin’ me, sweet girl? how many you want, huh? give you as many as you need. wanna see you swollen f’ me, you want that, mhm?” gojo’s barely coherent but his words only make you squeeze around him tighter— a silent little invitation as every thrust has you crying more, more, more! satoru, want your cum—please! punched out little gasps and cries as he digs the orgasm out of you.
“oh, you’ll look so pretty f’ me—f-fuck!” his huge body is looming over yours, pressing you into the mattress and the pillows beneath you. your thighs are flush against his abdomen and chest, and your lungs feel like they quake on every exhale as your lips part to moan. he presses himself into you— face nuzzling into the crook of your neck as he grazes his teeth along the skin there, headboard screeching loudly in time with every smack of his hips.
“‘toru, please please please—‘m g’nna,” you tremble as you shake beneath gojo, thighs tensing tight against his body and he knows he’s got you exactly where he wants you as he smirks against your skin. your orgasm hits you so suddenly, so hard and good that your toes curl where they hang over his shoulders, your body stiffening beneath him and the first milking compression of your pussy makes his pace stutter, hugs him so tight he can’t help but bite so hard into the sensitive skin of your neck he draws blood.
“should see h-how pretty you look like this. tell me ‘ts all mine, y’ gonna make me a daddy, yeah? g’nna fill you up so good. oh, this pussy’s made f’ me, ain’t it?”
his body trembles as he pulls back slightly to watch your cream pool around the base of his cock, your slick smeared along his skin and your walls still throb with every unforgiving push of his hips. your orgasm feels like it stretches on forever as you gasp out broken yeah, yours, love you so much ‘toru, waves rolling through your body with the heat you feel pour and sting along your nerves. it only takes a few more clapping thrusts and your choked confessions before hes kissing you, just as he likes as his lips curl into you.
gojo cums hard, thick and heavy inside of you when he feels your tongue push against his, swallowing both of your groans into the kiss as he pushes his load into your puffy cunt. you’re both so lost in bliss, so unaware of the electricity across your boyfriends skin and the uncomfortable pressure that seems to suddenly weigh down on your intertwined bodies.
the bedroom light flickers but you don’t notice, he’s slurring curses against your lips as he almost pins your thighs to your chest completely, the air between you seems tighter— atoms trembling in the finate space. but he’s continuing to fuck into your sensitive pussy with tiny little thrusts you don’t notice the creek of your furniture as it twitches out of place— like it’s being pulled towards you both. the small flickers of purple fizzle out when you’re both spent and he’s collapsing on top of you with a low, breathy chuckle, making you whine with the cramp you feel in your body.
“‘toru! you’re heavy.” you grumble, voice worn and scratchy but it doesn’t move gojo as he cuddles deeper into you, leaving sweet little kisses along your skin with obnoxious kissy noises— a stark contrast to how filthy he was being a second ago.
you’re both breathing deep as you give up trying to escape from underneath him, opting to press your fingers through his damp hair instead before he finally moves. he pulls back, enough for his cock to push his cum out of your pussy as he does, squelching and dripping into the mattress beneath you both as you jolt slightly. “careful, ‘ts messy, ‘toru.”
gojo whistles lowly before he looks at you again, one of your legs still haphazardly thrown over his shoulder before he’s placing a sweet kiss to your ankle, then following it up with a painfully languid, experimental thrust as his crystalline eyes focus on the mess he’s made of you.
“come on, sweet girl. you’re not nearly full enough f’ me yet.”
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© 2023 GAROUJO. please do not copy any of my layouts or writing and translate or repost onto any other sites.
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unorthodoxfaithxx · 2 months
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Crybaby yandere boyfriend when he thinks you’re cheating
He is running errands around town when he sees what he thinks is you out and about with another man. Weren’t you at work today? Why were you at the cafe? Who is he? Are you seeing someone else? 
Don’t you know nobody else can love you like he does? Why are you doing this to him when he loves you so much? 
The thought has him sick to his stomach and he nearly loses his lunch as a result. 
When you return home later that evening, he tackles you as soon as you close the door shut. His eyes are red from crying, and you immediately express your concern over him.
“Do you love me still? Am I doing something wrong? What can he do what I can’t?”
You ask him what he’s talking about but he just shakes his head in frustration. 
With a sniffle, he hugs you tightly, too tight to the point you can’t move or escape his grasp even if you wanted to. 
“No, no. I know you love me. You HAVE to. I love you too. More than I can say. We belong together!” He mumbles into the crook of your neck, “Maybe you just need some more convincing.”
With a squeal from you, he’s lifting you off your feet and into his arms, bridal style. He carries you into the bedroom before throwing you on the bed and locking the door. After, he climbs onto the bed and on top of you, eyes watering again. 
“I just got to show you, right? What I can give you. What you’d be missing.”
His lips immediately hit yours, body weight leaning all the way into you so you feel crushed underneath him. The two of you share a heated kiss, with him growling your name under his breath. When he takes his hoodie off and throws it on the floor, you know he’s serious.
He nibbles on your neck and holds your hands in a way you can’t let go.
”I’m gonna fuck you ‘til you can’t think of anything else but me.”
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venushasvixens · 11 months
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Chapter 24. Before We Go - Life is but a Dream (Spike Spiegel x Reader)
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Word Count: 4.5k 
Warnings: none  
[A/N] well, its the beginning of the end of this fic! We got a lot to get through though, so don’t go nowhere. Enjoy! 
“You think or you know?”
“I know. An old dog still knows her way around.”
You and Spike crept into a small alleyway full of boxes and trash. It reeked of the materials that were thrown away, only a little illumination was shining through from the street lights. You looked out in front of you, noticing that familiar car in front of you.
The way the car was cruising, it was almost like it wanted you and Spike to catch up to it. You had to admit, having this place close to each other wasn’t that smart, but knowing the law in town, you really felt like they weren't too concerned about it. You really hope that you weren’t falling into a trap.
You walked on the tip of your feet, the small pap of your feet could be heard against puddles and pieces of trash. But from where you were, you doubt that he could’ve heard the creeping investigators on his back. From the outside, it looked like a warehouse, in the middle of nowhere. Brown, rusted. Broken down. The doors looked ragged. It looked like it had no business holding what you think it had. You remembered this place very clearly.
There he is.” You barely whispered, your lips just mouthing the words.
“Ah, you gotta be shitting me.” An old soldier, the one you always hated. Annoying, creepy, didn’t know anything about personal space.
“You know him?”
“Unfortunately.” You mumbled. “Perv.”
All the buildings surrounding were closed, no lights in their windows or the streets. Without a doubt, the syndicate bought them all out. Not suspicious at all.
You looked at the man as he stepped out and swung the door open, the door closing behind him with a loud ca-thunk.
“We’re going to wait this out.” You said, turning to Spike. “I still know how to get in.”
“Its been a while since you’ve been here, are you sure you do?” He asked. “For all we know, this place could be surrounded by traps. We could be in one as we speak.”
“I thought the same thing. But how could they know, Spike?” You said, putting your hand on his chest, your brows furrowed. He put his hand over yours and kept it there, looking at the hangar and back at you.
He sighed. “If he is not out in the next hour, we are gone. Understand?”
You nodded, your eyes searching your surroundings. It didn’t take long at all, to your delight. To get this done, and for you and Spike to be on their merry ways to Lou’s and back to the Bebop.  The door opened once more, and the man stepped out. He grunted, stuffing his keys back into his pocket and climbing into the car. Now it was time to get all of this over with.
“Good, I thought he was never going to leave.” Spike mumbled sarcastically, looking around the corner as the car drove away.
You purse your lips and made the first move, creeping into the shadows and towards the entrance of the warehouse. Your hands, thimble and quick, began to work on the lock. Spike swiveled on your back, hand on holster.
“For something so secretive, this is a flimsy lock.” You stated.
“Shouldn't it be open by now?” Spike said lowly again, looking over his shoulder at you. “Aren’t you an expert?”
“Working on it. You need to give me a second.”
“We don’t have any, (Y/N).” He mumbled, his eyes darting around.
You could tell he was a little anxious about this, or agitated that you both were still in Yun in the midst of enemies and danger. To have another situation ending with a shootout, or either one of you getting badly injured, would be another disappointment. You wanted to shake off the thought, but it had to be taken into consideration as you tried to break into the warehouse.
Spike was not too keen that the both of you were still stuck here. Just having to leave the streetlights into the deep darkness of this unknown city put him on a higher alert than ever.
He remembered just how hurt he was before. While he tried to process your lie, he realized that he was so focused on it that he completely forgot how he got into his ship. Mid air, he gripped onto his controller and tried his best to meditate on it. And it took him all day to process it.
Waves of emotions echoed in the small red ship, from anger to hurt, to sadness and somehow, back to happiness.
Anger from having something important kept from him.
Hurt from the aftermath, and dealing with the thought that it was out of love that this secret was kept under wraps. And the fact that you both almost died.
Sad that you were sad. If you kept something as big as this as a secret, would you be sad? No, no. There was no way that you were unfeeling. Spike had clearly seen every single one of them from you. A comm from Jet pinged in, confirming his latter belief.
[Jet] Told her. She is a mess.
And lastly, there was happiness. Why? Because you were feeling. You were not cold, or uncaring. Every fiber of your humanity was intact, thriving with every kiss, every punch, every tear that fell from your eyes.
From the beginning, this mission felt like a step further closer to the edge. You both were close in finding a way to keep the syndicate off of your trail. How long could you hold them off? What would damage them so badly, that there would be no syndicate at all. He knew there was something you were trying to prove, something to close the past for you forever.
If it was destroying just a fraction of what there was, the rest could follow suit. As much as it annoyed Spike about history and that “Art of War” crap that Jet sprinkled into morning conversations, he could remember something about the fall of Rome. It only took one little push, and the domino effect went into place. All fell, and the recovery was harder to conceive.
In this day and age, it was very easy to. Guns, armies, power. That’s all it took to annihilate life. You may have not had any of that right now, but…there just had to be a one, tiny, little push.
He loved your determination. He loved the way you put yourself out to fight for what you believed in, even if it scared him. Oh god, he didn’t want to say it again, but it was true. He was scared for you.
Conflicted in the beginning of your time together, whether it was right to fall in love again, or if to push himself away again. That was his fear when finding himself in love with you. It was the fear of losing you. He cringes at the thought, not wanting to imagine the moment and aftermath of your death. How lost he would be without the light in his life.
The close encounter on Earth shook him to his core. Your bloodied body sent shockwaves, feeling as if everything was going by so slow. The response from Jet and Faye could have been milliseconds, but for him it felt like eons. He reminded himself that his fear was the reason that he was here with you, by your side.
So he swallowed his fear and straightened himself out.
“Did you get it?” He gently said this time, reaching a hand on your thigh as he had his back turned on yours. A hum came from you as you fiddled with it even more.  The clanky jingle of the lock becoming free and dropping to the side confirmed this, and the short chuckle from you.
“There we go.” You pat his side, looking around. You turned to Spike and pushed his hat down further on his face, fluffing up his coat. His skin shivered at your cold fingers, but he let her do whatever she wanted to him. Maybe skin to skin was better than a cigarette to calm his nerves.  “I’m going in for a minute. Only for a minute.”
“Do you want me to come?” He asked, tilting his head as his eyes bore into yours.
You shook your head. “It won’t take me long at all. Its just a quick look around, but until then, you know what to do. Stay hidden, and stay quiet. Understand?”
Seeing you give demands, as serious as it was, turned him on. Wasn’t the best place to have a feeling, but the way your tone was and just how beautiful you looked, he couldn’t help it. As you turned to open the door, Spike whisked you back to face him, his arm around your waist.
“What, what’s wr-“ you began, only to feel Spike’s wanting lips on yours, his arms just holding onto you. Oh how he kissed you. It was hungry, full of emotion and want. You couldn’t help but moan softly from how it felt, being kissed so sweetly by Spike.
You found yourself gripping onto his coat, almost sneaking yourself into his coat. Opening your eyes, you found a hazy gaze staring right back at you, a smirk growing from Spike’s lips. You breathed hard, shaking your head softly.
“That was for luck.”
“Well, umm….” You began as you tried to catch your breath. “I-if you keep doing this, we may just have to go on more missions together.”
“Stay in my room tonight and I’ll show you more.”
You pressed your lips together, getting mad at yourself for not focusing on the task at hand. You really hoped there was nothing to look at so you could make it back to Spike quicker. Would be a waste of time and resources, but fuck it.
On your heels, you opened the door slowly. The inside was barely lit, with a few lights illuminating the corners of the warehouse. You put your sunglasses on, with your gun out. Holding it by your side, you crossed over the threshold.
You bent your head down, eyeing the odd shapes that were single filed lines in front of you. You just needed a closer look.
The platform along the walls of the warehouse creaked, causing you to jump.
The main floor, if you could remember, only held cars and ammo. Nothing bigger than that. A few ships were in tow, but even that was a lot.
Your ventures never left Mars, and if they did, it was on bigger missions with more supplies that you think you could’ve lived without.
Despite it being chilly outside, there was a deep mist in here, floating all throughout the air.
That was odd.
You squint your eyes as you take baby steps in, taking note of the multiple boxes of ammo and equipment that was just ready to be unveiled and used on any poor soul. That was normal.
You walked down the initial platform you were on, to the main floor below. Those were machines? They were so small though…
But a closer look revealed a lot more. Sheets covered the weird shapes, cloaked in obscurity. You pulled one back, observing the details of what laid before you.
Their shape was just so odd. Circular, single rider. Multiple machine guns built on both sides. You noticed black bars on both sides as well. God this looked so well made, it looked like it would have cost a fortune just for the one. You took out your wrist scanner, allowing it to take a glance over the small carrier. Once downloaded, you back up.
This was a lot different from the modes of transportation from your day.
But…there is absolutely no way this was in their budget. Machine ships with such care and quality. Then you backed up, onto the platform. Single filed lines…more than you can count. From the outside, the warehouse looked a lot smaller, but inside, it was as big as a football field.  
In the darkness, you could see there was more than you thought there was. Machines of death and destruction, waiting to be used at any given moment. This wasn't what you remembered, it was worse. There was something far sinister that they had in store. You knew they were just finding an excuse to use these things, to test out their damage. You breathed heavily, and rushed to the door.
This syndicate was bigger than you thought it was. And they were ready for any war, at any time.
A message was already sent back to the Bebop, notifying Jet of what you had seen. Immediately, he was on the job. “Did you find what you needed?”
“And more.” You spoke, shaking your head softly. “We’re making a pit stop and we’ll be back soon.”
After showing Spike what you had seen, hastily as you both rushed away from the area around the warehouse, he shook his head. You both spoke in hushed tones about what it was all for. You had your theories, as well as he did. But one thing was absolutely clear.
You had to get thinking. And quickly.
One step ahead.
Avoiding bringing the Bebop even near any settlement that was remotely close to Yun was a first. Staying in your own lane, not bounty hunting for a while. Running from the past, and the past catching up to you seemed to be a running trend nowadays.
This was going to be a group discussion for sure.
With a goodbye, you and Spike approached the diner closer, his careful gaze searching the area. “Are you sure she’s here?”
The lights outside of the diner were shining as bright as they did so long ago.
The outside, although shrouded by more buildings and trees, was still the same. Some corners were withered, but with character. The inside was lit, the open sign flickering. There was Lou, flipping the window shutters closed. You could feel your heart beam in happiness, wanting to just run inside and hold onto her. You noticed the hours were shortened.
She is someone you need to talk to, especially now. You smiled, seeing now that she had never changed. She was still perfect to you. “Uh-huh.”
You both glanced at each other before heading up to the entrance. You turned to Spike, fluffing up his collar again and brushing the hair from his ears. “There we go…nice..”
“What are you doing?” He asked, his eyebrows lifting as he trailed your hands over his face and coat, smoothing them both out.
“Making you look presentable.” You said flatly, taking another look over. You brushed his eyebrows with your thumbs, feeling the deep rumble of Spike’s mumbling against your chest.
“Does my rugged appearance not charm you?” He mumbled, his deep tone gravel as he pouted. “My character is built off of it.”
“Mother figures don’t like rugged, they like straight.” You replied, winking at him slyly. Puffing air out, you took that as a gesture of understanding your little tease. From behind, you could hear him fiddling with his collar. Opening the door to the diner, you stepped in first, head down. Your sunglasses covered your eyes, hiding most of your face.
Spike followed suit.
“Hello, hello.” You heard from the waitress as you both walked in. She sighed rather loud, setting the rag she was wiping the counter with on the shelf below.
You saw Jeanie, older than she was many years ago. Her hair was still pinned back in a bun, her face weathered by time and still, sharp. You could feel her attitude from all the way outside of the diner. Somehow, as offstandish she was to you, a smile from her was just as good as a hug.
Distracted with putting plates up, and cleaning the counter, she spoke with her eyes down, distracted by her closing work. “What can I get you lovebirds today?”
“I’m not too sure. What are your specials today?” You asked, your voice low. “Afraid I only have this much today.”
You threw a couple of woolong coins on the counter, the loud clatter of the metal bounced off the diner, echoing. Wincing at the sound, you looked towards the waitress, who scowled at the rude gesture. Wasn’t too nice to have the same done to her all those years ago, but maybe it would help her remember.
She took one look at the coins, and huffed. “That isn’t even enough for a plate.”
“But its all I got.”
“Sorry, no can do.” She insisted. “The door is right over there…” She took a glance at you, and took a double take, her face dropping. You smiled, taking off your glasses.
“Oh, oh my god.” She said breathlessly. “Oh my god, (y/n)!” She yelled. She ran around the corner of the counter and threw her arms around you. You were surprised that she could even show this type of affection towards anyone. Happily, you hugged her back, chuckling. “Lou! Get your behind out here!”
Spike gave a small smile, happy to see that you were. He put his hands in his pockets, and stepped back for this reunion to play out.
“What?” You heard. “What's going on?” You pulled back, looking at the entrance of the kitchen doors, your face lighting up. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Jeanie turn off the neon sign and lock the door. The lights on the outside were off, and so were the ones in the cafe, except for a few. Something told you that Jeanie knew about the trouble of being here, and of being caught.
Out came Lou, her apron off and the front strands of her hair pulled back. She never changed. She was just as beautiful as the day you left. She put her hand over her mouth, tears welling in her eyes. Remembering that you were in front of her, she held out her arms, and you jumped into them. Her hug was warm, her hands holding onto her shoulders tightly.
It was just like how you remembered.
“This is a face that I thought I’d never see again.” She said softly, planting a tiny peck on your head.
“I’m so glad to see you again.” You replied, smiling big.
“Me too, sweetie.” She wiped away the tear from her eyes, chuckling the same as you. “I shouldn’t cry, I got makeup on.”
You all laughed, putting your arm around her. “And who is this young man right here?” She asked, raising her eyebrows. She gave a knowing glance, her face telling you all she wanted to ask. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes, and held out your hand to Spike.
“This is Spike. He and I are together.” You said, your heart beating even more as you said that. To say it to someone you knew, it made it official. “Spike, this is Lou. She helped raise me since I was at the orphanage.”
Spike knew how to make this sweet. He took off his hat, and held out his hand. “How are you, miss?” He said, giving that signature sweet smile.
“Gosh, miss. Haven’t heard that in a minute. ” Lou said, giggling. She took his hand gratefully, shaking it. “I’m doing well, Spike. “Oh, (y/n), you picked out a pretty one. Good hair, really nice smile.”
You raised your eyebrows, at Spike, almost like you were saying, “what did I tell you?”
“Oh no no. He picked me.” You glanced at him, who gave you a small wink. After all this time, you could’ve crumbled right there in front of all of them.
“Now, I have to ask you. What brings you back to Yun?” Lou said, folding her arms. “I mean, I haven’t seen you since all of that went down.”
You sighed softly, hoping that she had enough time to hear what you had to say. “You got some coffee?”
“Plenty of. That long?” She asked. You nodded.
Sitting down, you started from the moment that you left. Planet after planet, bounty after bounty, hiding from Red Jack’s. Those moments where your ship was not worth looking through, the voices echoed on Mars of the syndicates on the rise. You went into great detail of trying to build yourself back up, getting your own ship and having your own home.
Even though it was a distant memory, it was a very special marker for you. Independence, finally being on your own and at peace.
“And now.” You said, sighing, preparing yourself for what you were about to say. “The reason why I am here is that they found me.”
Lou’s eyes widened, her hand on her chest. “Because you left?”
Nodding, you continued. “They found me. There was a shootout on Earth not too long ago, and I almost died.” You pulled up your sleeve and showed the scar of where the bullet had grazed you. Lou winced, shaking her head. “Had it not been for Spike, I would not be here.”
“I’m glad you were there, honey.” Lou said to Spike, patting his hand. “So glad.”
“So now, we are here to find out what exactly Jo has in store. We found something, but I’m not ready to set off alarm bells just yet.”
“I have plenty to say about that horrible woman.” Lou grumbled, taking a sip of her coffee. “I just didn’t know it was going to get this far.”
“Me either.” You replied. “Either way, I just want you to be on the lookout in case anything happens. You didn’t see anything, you didn’t hear anything, and you didn't speak anything. Even me being here is not the best, but I just had to you both.”
“I don’t care. As long as I know you’re alive and well, that is all that matters.” She nodded. “Now, tell me about this one.” She pointed over to Spike, humming to herself as you beamed. This ought to be good.
Spike listened intently, sitting at the booth beside you as you began to talk about your first meeting with him.
“Well, you’re not going to like how we first met, I will say.” You said, taking a sip of coffee.
“Try me.” Lou replied.
Spike sat back, crossing his arms. This ought to be good.
“Don’t worry, sweets, I’m not going to spill every detail.” You reassured him. Lou and Jeanie laughed, giving your hand a light smack. “I was chasing a bounty that had a large sum of woolong included in the reward. I was creeping up on the ship, when someone, not naming any names, threatened to take me out.”
“Take you out? Well why is that so bad-“
“No, Lou.” Jeanie said firmly, making a gun gesture with her hand. “Take her out.”
“Ohhhh. Oh.” She grimaced, nodding. “Okay, I see now.”
“We talked it through, and had some ups and downs.” You said, flashing back to all the times you had first argued and avoided each other. To the times you had spent sleepless nights in his room, wrapped in his embrace. Finally, now. Forgiveness, and moving on from the nightmare that overcame the both of you. “And here we are.”
Lou smiled. “Well I’m glad you’re happy, darling. I really am. I think that was something you needed all along.”
“What, a boyfriend?”
“No. Love.” She said. You both shared a knowing look, dating back years.
It told you the struggle you had been through, from how the love you first perceived at both the orphanage and from Jo was not true. It was just a ploy, another step in their scheme. Even if you didn’t love yourself in that period, or even now, it was still there. From Lou, a motherly love was unlike no other.
And from Spike…that was the love you always wanted. Someone who understood you, stood by your side when times were rough, and was willing to go to the ends of the galaxy to be with you.
Spike couldn't help himself. His admiration for you felt like it was going to burst out of his chest. Loving you was so easy, so peaceful. For a moment, he forgot where you both were and why you were in Yun. It honestly felt like meeting her mother and sitting down for some coffee, like normal people do. He just loved you so much.
He leaned over, planting a kiss on your cheek. His lips lingered for a moment, a smile enveloping in his kiss.
“Well isn't that sweet?” Lou said. “Oh, those were the days..” Lou sighed dramatically.
“She says that, like she doesn’t have a boyfriend of her own.” Jeanie added. Lou elbowed her softly, pressing her lips together. They both began to bicker, insults thrown between the both of them. You and Spike just watched as they both laughed from their shots from one another, your hand reaching for his.
“Ready to go home?” He whispered in your ear.
“I’m already home.” You whispered back, looking deep into Spike’s soul.
Your home, where you belonged, was right beside you. Holding your hand.
“Now these pancakes..” The red haired woman spoke through bites, nodding. “These pancakes are always delicious. No matter the day.”
She took a sip of her coffee, and let her utensils clank against the plate. She dabbed at the corners of her mouth and hummed. “I tell you, Lou, you are just the best.”
Her bodyguard that stood behind her was still, like he was a mannequin. Lou took notice of how quiet it was besides the hums of the refrigerators and the oven in the back. She also noticed just how hot her face was, and the grip on her cleaning rag.
“I’m glad you liked it.” She took the plate and put in a plastic bin, her back to Jo just a second. “Anything else I can get you?”
Jo had her hands clasped in front of her, one of those polite, unnerving smiles on her face. Her red lips were pressed together as she just stared at Lou. It was like she was frozen, just holding her gaze on her for so long. The seconds ticked by slowly, neither of them moving an inch.
“You know…some chocolate pie is nice.” She finally said. “And another moment of your time.”
Lou nodded, grabbing a slice and setting it in front of Jo. She carefully placed a fork next to her on a napkin.
“Any troubles?” Lou tried to grin as happily as she could, but it was damn near impossible. She already knew what she was going to ask.  “I’ve been told I could be a good therapist if I wanted to.”
“I sure hope so.” Jo said, twirling her fork against the plate, small scraping sounds heard as she did.
“Got any new visitors lately?”
-
Peace always comes and goes.
-
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Text
i crumble completely when you cry ; suguru geto
synopsis; after a tense fight with your boyfriend, you flee out into a brewing rainstorm. luckily, suguru is always willing to warm you up again.
word count; 6.2k
contents; suguru geto/reader, gn!reader, copious amounts of hurt/comfort, no really that’s literally all this fic is, sugu snaps at you for worrying about him, (and then promptly spirals), he makes it up to you though :), healthy communication ensues, [name] is used exactly once, switching povs, soft & fluffy ending <33
a/n; going back to my roots (mindless hurt/comfort) 🙏🙏 i just think that if suguru picked me up like a small kitten and put me in his lap it would fix me
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you’re cold.
little shivers run through your body, down your spine, and all you can do is clench your chattering teeth and dig your nails into the skin of your palms. the heavy rain falls down without mercy, going pitter patter as it hits the asphalt. a sudden lightning strike lights up the town, flashing in the reflection of puddles, and you manage a weak jolt.
dark clouds blanket the whole sky, not allowing even a sliver of blue to shine through the darkness of the rainy evening. enveloping you, surrounding you, soft earthy scents — wet asphalt, roses blooming to your left and right, bushes with sweet-smelling flora guiding your path, little petals glistening with droplets and bouncing with the force of the rain.
it’d be comforting, were it not for one simple fact; 
you don’t have an umbrella.
at this point, thirty minutes into your solemn, sniffly walk, you’re absolutely soaked. with only a measly hoodie to cover your body and head, and a tank top sticking to the skin beneath it — you were stupid to think you’d get out of it unscathed. your shoes feel uncomfortable, wet soles sticking to the asphalt, two heavy weights carrying you down the familiar street ahead of you.
you let out a shuddering breath. 
gosh, this was stupid. you knew it was going to rain, but still walked out without a care in the world; despite the weather forecast, despite suguru’s warnings over breakfast, despite the dark clouds covering the milk-blue sky. you just didn’t think it’d be this bad. you just felt so helpless.
you just couldn’t stay there.
some fresh air, and a bit of space. that was all you needed. just that one sliver of comfort.
so, yeah, maybe you weren’t thinking very clearly when you stormed out. maybe you weren’t thinking nearly enough, not enough to even grab one of the umbrellas hanging off the coatrack. hanging there just for you, the cutest little frog umbrella, one suguru bought for you himself. big, googly eyes, and a big smile. the most perfect shade of green. 
(he put it there just for you.)
maybe you weren’t thinking at all. maybe you just needed to get away, away from him, away from the frustration on his features. arguments with suguru are few and far between — it only adds to the sting of his cold voice still ringing in your ears. you bite down on your bottom lip again, just to stop it from wobbling so pitifully. blinking rapidly, tears and raindrops clinging to your lashline.
you were just worried. is that so awful? 
(why did he have to be so fucking mean about it?)
a sigh flows from your lips, heavy and defeated and undeniably tired. you hate feeling like this, this bitter, hate feeling like you’ve done something wrong. more than anything, you hate arguing with him — hate the idea of him being angry with you. hate the way his voice turns colder, just a little sharper, an octave lower. he never raises it, never ever, but somehow he still sounds so scary. 
it bothers you. bothers you how sensitive you are when it comes to him. just that shivering tilt of his voice, coupled with the annoyance in his eyes, was enough to make your eyes a little glassy. one little sentence, and you were close to breaking out into a sob. because suguru was angry with you, and that alone makes you feel like you’ve done nothing right in your life.
so you left. because that was all you could do. 
sure, the sharp pelting of the rain hurts a little, and the thunder is scary, and you’re awfully cold — but anything is better than having suguru see you burst into tears over such a small argument. you know he’d try to soothe you, know he’d feel guilty. but that just makes it all the more embarrassing. 
(all the more pathetic.)
so you left, rushed out of your own apartment, and before you knew it the storm was rolling in above you. rain and thunder, something to rival the ache in your chest. it still hasn’t been that long, a little over half an hour, and you still haven’t fully calmed down. you still don’t know how to face him. but —
but fuck, it’s cold. and an undeniable part of you yearns to run back into his arms, to make up with him, to hear his voice turn warm and see his eyes go soft. you want him to soothe you so, so badly. like he always does. 
another sigh — more resigned this time — slips from out your lips. your bones feel sore, you’re almost certain you’re going to catch a cold, and it’s getting late. you’re all alone, and it’s raining, and you look vulnerable and helpless. 
you want to go home.
it’ll be awkward, but maybe you can sneak in somehow — without him noticing. then you can go straight to sleep, on the couch, and maybe you’ll feel a little better tomorrow. the two of you can talk it out over breakfast, over warm coffee, and you can tell him what you meant to say without stumbling over what words to use or dancing around the subject like a scared little child.
you’re just too tired to argue anymore.
he just made you feel so stupid. so very, very small. suguru’s been working so hard lately, coming home late, exhausting himself. all you wanted was to make sure he was okay. that, and to coax him into relaxing a bit; maybe take a day off to recharge. that was all.
but he just brushed you off.
and, well, maybe you should’ve backed off after that. maybe you should’ve taken that as a sign that suguru didn’t feel up to answering your questions. but you were just so worried, so pitifully anxious, and you just wanted to help him so, so badly.
suguru is always so dependable. always there to help you, to ground you, to console you. even when you push him away or insist you don’t need it. he can be pushy, when he feels like he needs to, when your health is at risk — and it’s frustrating, but you’ve always appreciated it. you just wanted to return the favour. push him, just a little, to show him how much you care. show him that he can depend on you the way he insists you do with him.
but then he grew frustrated.
”suguru… you’ve been working so much, i’m —” you bite down on your bottom lip. ”i’m just worried that you’re overdoing it.” ”… god. how many times do i have to say it? i know my limits, [name].” ”but — you just look so tired —” ”well, i’m sorry for that.” a cold smile. ”am i not living up to your expectations?”
(that’s not what you meant. he knows that’s not what you meant.)
and it makes you feel frustrated, too. pardon you for being worried. for wanting to be there for him, for once, for wanting to be a supportive partner and not just a burden. 
pardon you for feeling a little lonely, with him coming home so late, leaving so early. with him not giving you the affection you’re so used to, and never confiding in you about his stress.
pardon you for wanting him to trust you, a little, even just a sliver more than not at all.
god, you’re exhausted. you just want to sleep — can’t you have that, at least? just that one thing? you don’t mind sleeping on the couch, don’t mind feeling like a stranger in your own home, as long as you get to rest your eyes. just for a little while. 
your brain spins in circles, bitterness and longing heavy on your tongue, as you grumble over what to do or how to feel — 
while your feet have already begun taking you home. moving almost on their own, on instinct, walking past rose bushes and backyards, the smell of glucose and rotting apples. 
and you’re there before you know it: in front of the familiar door to your shared apartment, soaked from head to toe. still feeling a little lost.
for a second, you hesitate.
maybe he’s still angry. maybe he was happy to get some time away from you. maybe you’re just making things worse by doing this, maybe you should just —
but your fingers have already fished out the key from within your pocket, unlocking the door in one swift motion. moving up to curl around the doorknob, a desperation in your veins guiding you closer to his steady warmth.
and before you have the chance to waver again, you pull the door open and step inside.
you move slowly, gentle and careful, almost cautious. softly closing the door behind you and taking a couple quiet steps forward, only to shrug off your hoodie — heavy, soaking wet and discomforting as you pull it over your head. clumsily, you try to get it off you, squirming when the warm indoors air meets your sweaty tank top. it feels soothing on your bare skin, though, ghosting over your shoulders and collarbone, hoodie now clinging to your elbows.
in the middle of the taxing endeavor, you almost fail to notice the presence of a certain someone, standing just a little farther away. 
almost, because it’d be impossible for you to miss him, that heavy gaze of his.
and before you can think the thought to do anything else, you’ve locked eyes with him — arms still tangled up in the wet sleeves of your hoodie, raindrops and sweat sticking to your skin.
(suguru takes a moment to look at you.)
not daring to say anything, afraid to part your lips, you simply stand there. in silence, like a deer in headlights. for some reason, you can’t really read his expression — you’re a little too tired, a little too caught off guard.
you can only blink, worry surely evident in your furrowed brows, as the seconds tick on and on. tense, tense, tense.
and then he’s walking away again. 
crestfallen. that’s probably the best way to describe how you feel right now, watching him disappear around the corner. dejected, as your eyes fall to the floor, and your posture wilts like a dying rose. you finally shake off your hoodie and watch it fall to the floor with a gross, wet plap.
it hurts. you want to cry. you can’t help it. even though a part of you is still upset, even though a part of you fully expected this to happen… 
another part was still hoping he’d be happy to see you. as if just seeing his smile again might’ve fixed everything.
but he didn’t even give you that.
that’s that, then. there’s nothing you can do except proceed with your original plan. you’ll change into some warm, dry clothes, and go to sleep on the couch like the miserable dog you are. you’ll leave everything troublesome and disheartening for tomorrow’s you to handle. 
for now, you just have to worry about getting some sleep. you don’t have to think about suguru, or his cold voice, or the way he just walked away without saying anything. 
you don’t have to think about him at all. 
(don’t think. don’t think. don’t —)
— the soft patter of footsteps breaks you out of your anxious spiral. they come closer and closer, until a certain silhouette enters your vision out of the corner of your eye.
a certain suguru geto, hair down and cascading past his shoulders, wearing a comfortable sweater and loose sweatpants with a fluffy towel in tow.
once again, you can only blink. a vaguely confused deer in headlights. suguru comes closer and closer, until you can clearly see his eyes, amber gold, full of an emotion you finally manage to identify —
worry.
(ah.)
before you can say anything, he’s draped the towel around you. it feels nice, a soft texture on your skin, big enough to engulf you completely, cocooning you. cozy and snug. you can’t help but melt a little when suguru places his big hand over the towel and smooths it over your cheek, drying off your skin so gently that you feel like crying again.
”are you cold?” he asks, concern evident in his voice. to your immense relief, it sounds nowhere near as scary as before. ”you’re soaked…”
suguru almost seems to be pouting, bottom lip jutting out the slightest bit, eyebrows furrowed softly. still rubbing the raindrops off your skin. he looks awfully troubled, undeniably anxious, and the way he’s caressing your skin feels so earnestly caring. the towel feels warm, like he went the extra mile to heat it up for you.
and, more than anything, the feeling of suguru’s big hands cupping your face is almost heavenly. even though the touch is indirect, you can’t help but bask in his warmth, almost desperate to cling to it after escaping from the harsh cold of the rain. like he could slip away and leave you again if you don’t stay perfectly still, just like this.
it’s soothing. so, so soothing. but it also makes you feel kind of meek.
you sound sheepish when you answer, voice a little hoarse after your grueling walk. throat dry from all the crying. ”nah, ’m fine…”
the words are tiny, fragile like pieces of glass, and they only make suguru’s brows furrow further, pout turning into a soft frown as he gazes down at you.
(he hates how small you look. like you’re curling in on yourself.)
as soon as you left the apartment, a wave of regret washed over him. it was expected, obviously, because that’s what always happens after the two of you argue — which is almost never, which only makes the cut in his heart run deeper. 
he felt frustrated. and tired, so tired. but when he saw your troubled expression, the way your eyes watered slightly before you rushed out…
he could only feel guilty.
and that sensation only deepened as he sat on the couch and spiraled, over the course of forty long minutes, playing the interaction back inside his head. over and over, thinking about your words, his words, some of which he desperately wishes he could take back. 
and when it started raining? suguru could only feel regret, hot and ugly, dragging him into his own thoughts. could only drown in his worries, look out the window anxiously. thinking of you, his sweet baby, stuck under the onslaught of dark clouds and lightning strikes and heavy rain.
(you didn’t bring an umbrella.)
suguru waited. that was all he could do. 
he didn’t think it was possible for him to feel so useless. fighting with himself, the part of him that wanted to give you the space you needed clashing with the part that yearned to run after you — scoop you up and apologize, hold you tight and protect you from the rainfall. you weren’t answering his calls, and he didn’t want to overwhelm you, didn’t want to make you feel even worse. afraid to scare you off for good.
so he could only sit there and worry, sit there and wait, wallow in his own shame until he heard the faintest sound of the front door unlocking. followed by the sound of it creaking open, slowly — and that was all he needed. 
and there you were. standing by the entrance, entirely soaked, tank top sticking to your skin and that flimsy hoodie hanging off your arms, cheeks a little red from the cold and strands of hair sticking to your skin.
like a tiny kitten left out in the rain.
it made him feel so painfully anxious. his heart aching so deeply, so viscerally, while all he could think about was smothering you in affection. taking care of you, like he always wants to do, needs to do to stay sane. so suguru left, to go grab something to dry you off with —
and now he’s here. in front of you, smothering you with the towel rather than his love, fretting over you like an overprotective mother. 
suguru yearns to soothe you. to take care of you. always, always, always, his hands on your skin and lidded amber eyes staring deeply into yours. offering himself like a shelter to a stray dog, hoping so tenderly that you’ll take the bait.
(he just wants you to feel safe with him again.)
so he stumbles for something, anything to say, afraid of overstepping or making you uncomfortable. you did just argue, and suguru was anything but patient with you. usually he would be; he’d make sure to be. but with work piling up, and exhaustion clinging to every pore of his skin…
he failed at maintaining his composure.
he needs to make it up to you. despite everything — even though he feels a little awkward, a little restless, still drowning a little in shame — he just wants to tend to you. that, and nothing more.
”hang on,” he exhales, stepping back and letting go of the towel. ”i’ll go draw you a bath…”
”ah — no need,” you smile, a little forced, swiftly reassuring him. he can tell you don’t really know how to act after everything that happened; still walking on eggshells. ”i’ll just take a quick shower.”
suguru wants to protest, wants to coax you into taking a proper bath, into letting your cold skin and aching bones relax completely —
but he can only hum, a little unsure. a little sad. 
”… okay. got it.”
perplexed, he tries his hand at another tactic. still so desperate to take care of you in whatever way you’ll allow, like always, but he thinks it’s worse now. even more desperate, after the fight you had, after seeing your frail, shivering self. resisting the urge to scoop you up and coddle you is a struggle.
”i can make you tea?” he tries, inwardly wincing at the way the words spill from his lips; uncertain, awkward. what a mess.
but you smile, slightly more genuinely this time, a soft little thing. it soothes some of the anxiety rotting through his ribs.
”tea would be great, thank you.”
you brush past him, warm towel still hanging off your shoulders. ”i’ll just take a shower in the meantime,” you murmur, and suguru can do nothing but nod, watching you go. 
he swallows thickly.
(that’s that, then.)
tea. right. what kind of tea? something warm, and soothing, and good for your throat. chamomile? peppermint? he’ll add a spoon of honey, just the way you like.
suguru’s mind spins in circles while his feet take him to the kitchen, hands swiftly rummaging through cabinets and getting the electric kettle ready. placing teacups and a teapot on the table, cute little floral designs he couldn’t help but fill your kitchen with. pouring hot peppermint tea into the pot, a strong scent drifting through the kitchen, drowning his senses in bliss.
caught up in his own head, losing track of time, suguru fails to notice you walking from the bathroom — stopping by the threshold of the kitchen, hesitant to make your presence known. a few silent moments pass. with a tiny inhale, mint invading your senses, you take a step forward. calm and sleepy, skin still pleasantly hot from the warm shower, hair still a little damp.
only then does suguru notice you, his gaze drifting to your figure as if instinctively drawn to it.
you’re clad in some comfortable sweatpants, and an oversized hoodie — his hoodie, the one with the unreasonably soft texture, the one you tend to gravitate towards — the one he likes to see you in the most, because you always look so thoroughly comfy in it. almost drowning in the fabric. 
seeing you all warm and cozy, in his clothing no less, sends a tremor of pure warmth running through suguru’s chest. sprouting in his heart and spreading throughout his entire body. he can’t bring himself to resist the soft curl of his lips, gazing at you so fondly he’s almost sure you notice it.
”i made peppermint,” he says, a little breathless, already pouring boiling tea into two cups on the table. ”that okay?”
”yeah,” you answer, instantaneous. stifling a yawn. you’d have been fine with anything, really.
the shower worked wonders for your muddled mind; chasing away the shivers down your spine, that unpleasant chill to your skin. most importantly, it gave you a moment to simply relax, to bask in the peace and quiet. feel the hot water surround you, melt your bones like softened clay. you feel a little better, now. still anxious, more than a little sleepy, but better. and right now, that’s all you need. 
with a groggy kind of pep in your step, you stumble over to the kitchen table, plopping down on the chair across from where suguru is sitting. trying to get comfortable, knees pressed against your chest, muttering a soft thank you while gingerly touching the rim of the cup.
(suguru frowns, just barely, at the sight. usually you’d sit right next to him. but now you’re in front of him, so very far — as if you’re strangers.
it breaks his heart, a little bit.)
a soft hum leaves your lips when you take a sip of the tea — all warm and comforting and minty on your tongue, a vague taste of something sweet. it’s relaxing, more than anything, and it makes you feel a little more okay with everything.
suguru only watches you, drinking absentmindedly from his own cup. not really tasting anything.
finally, he opts to clear his throat — and your attention falls on him instantly.
”hey,” he starts, ready to address the elephant in the room. his voice is gentle, but decisive, firm somehow. ”about before…”
your body tenses, ever so slightly, fingers uncurling around the handle of the teacup. there’s a kind of shift in the air around you, in suguru’s tone of voice — and you were expecting it, waiting for it anxiously, but that doesn’t make it any less harrowing.
here it comes, your mind seems to sing. here comes the moment everything shatters again.
with as much strength as you can muster, you smile. a little sheepish, just a tad forced, refusing to meet his eyes from across the table. staring into the murky green of your cup and hoping in vain that you can somehow escape this discomfort. 
(you just want to rest. you just want to not have to think about anything.)
”it’s fine, suguru,” you cut him off. softly, but there’s a certain tilt to your voice that strikes him as rather cold. ”we can just drop it.”
the decision in his eyes doesn’t waver. you look meek, awfully troubled, and he hates to force you into another discussion when you’re undoubtedly tired — but suguru’s mind is set. he’s been evasive enough, today.
”no. i want to talk about it properly.”
at that, you seem to deflate a little. suguru is nothing if not stubborn, a quality that always manages to coexist with his gentleness, his desire to be a good partner for you. you can tell he won’t allow you to wriggle away, now that you’re both finally calm. he’s not doing it to exhaust you, not doing it to gain some sort of satisfaction out of ”winning” the argument — he’s doing it because he knows it’s the right thing to do. even if it makes you both a little uncomfortable.
communication is important, immensely so. suguru knows it very well.
and you do, too.
so all you do is curl into yourself, shifting in your seat, allowing him to speak his mind and sipping quietly on your tea. biting back a disgruntled huff, gaze lingering on the tablecloth, little calico cats etched into the fabric. he wanted one with yellow stripes, but still bought this one just for you. just like the ugly matching couple mugs you forced him into buying, the green colour of your kitchen wallpaper. he always places you before himself.
(all you wanted was to change that. just for a night, if nothing else. and he got mad at you for it.)
suguru sighs. it sounds fatigued, not frustrated or disappointed. he runs a hand through his hair, and you can’t help but follow the movement, the soft silky strands and the way he smooths them over. practiced, familiar, absentminded. you could watch him do it forever.
”i had a lot of time to think while you were gone,” he begins, recalling the mental gymnastics he went through while you were away. just sitting on the couch and running himself ragged, trying to be impartial, trying to see your point of view without letting his own bias get in the way.
you sink a little further into the chair, eyes downcast. inhaling the scent of peppermint, trying to prepare yourself for what he might say, the ways this could all go wrong.
”and i realized that you were right.”
you blink. once, then twice.
hesitantly, you raise your head, searching for suguru’s gaze. he isn’t looking at you, staring out at the rainfall through the window as if in deep thought. his gaze shifts to meet yours, and something soft flickers through his golden eyes.
he looks troubled, though. trying to find the right words, mind clouded by guilt. chewing at his bottom lip anxiously.
it takes him a moment to gather his thoughts, to weigh the words in his mind, just to make sure he gets them across as smoothly as possible. he’s had more than enough time to verbalize his feelings, to think about what he wants to say to you. it was all he could do while he waited. 
so his voice is earnest, when he continues, sincerely apologetic and thought out.
”i’m always telling you not to overwork yourself. and here i am, doing the same thing…” another sigh. ”you were just worried. i shouldn’t have lashed out — you didn’t deserve that.”
suguru searches for your gaze, and manages to find it. you falter a little under the weight of his eyes, but they’re warm, remorseful. a setting sun.
”i’m sorry.”
a moment of silence passes. then two. three, five. you look down at your cup, the purple hyacinths etched into the porcelain. crumbling under his gaze, at the sound of his genuine apology. 
and suddenly, you feel silly — silly for being so scared, for thinking suguru might still be angry with you. for thinking he wouldn’t spend as much time as needed to properly think about your words, your feelings, even if he might not have been ready to do so when he first heard them.
suguru can be stubborn, if he’s convinced that he’s in the right. but he always, always seeks you out eventually, always makes sure to genuinely look at things from your perspective. 
and, really, it means everything. it means enough to wash away all your leftover irritation, from having him brush you off when you know you didn’t do anything wrong. all the leftover sadness from being pushed away, from not being allowed to take care of him the way he always does for you.
suguru isn’t perfect, but he tries harder than anyone you know. tries his very best to be as close to perfect as he can possibly get — for you, for the both of you. he’s considerate enough, mature enough to take the time he needs to properly communicate. that’s how much he loves you. 
and yes, doing so makes you a little uncomfortable. but when faced with something like that, someone so kind, who loves you like the rain loves the ground — how could you ever bear not to do the same?
”… it’s fine,” you start, softly. ”maybe i overreacted a bit. ’s just —” a gulp. you’re trying your best to verbalize your feelings, the way suguru just did, the way he always does.
and he waits, patiently. for as long as you need. looking at you from across the table softly, already immensely relieved at the lack of tension in the air.
”i don’t like seeing you so tired. i know that your work is important, and i support you, but…” your voice goes quiet, as you trail off, hoping he’ll understand what you mean. ”you know.”
and suguru does. he does understand, he always will. so he hums.
”i know,” he murmurs, softly. ”it wasn’t an overreaction. i just didn’t realize it myself. got too caught up in everything,” a sharp exhale leaves his lips. ”it’s been… a long week. i’m not using that as an excuse, though.”
you listen attentively, eyes softening at his words. you can tell that he means it, that you finally got your message across. all you wanted was for him to take a break, to take care of himself.
to let you take care of him.
suguru continues. he makes it a point to look into your eyes as he speaks — a little intimidating, especially in a situation like this — but you know it reassures him, that it lets him know you really understand what he’s trying to say. 
so you hold his gaze, as steady as you can, glancing down at his collarbone when it becomes just a little too much.
”i’m grateful that i have you,” he says, voice dripping with softness, gazing at you with a fondness that has you crumbling all over again. ”and that you care enough to set me straight when i need it.”
and suguru means it. he means it more than anything else. not once has he ever stopped appreciating you, all the things you do for him; always so sweet and caring, even when it’s subtle. this was no exception. you’re always worried, always looking out for him. he feels awful for getting so defensive. for pushing you away, when you were trying so earnestly to reach him.
but he’ll make up for all of that, starting now.
”i mean it. i appreciate you so much, you have no idea — i’m so sorry if i made you think otherwise.” for a moment, his eyes look a little glassy, swimming in remorse. ”i really, really am.”
(and when he looks at you like that, when he speaks so very gently —
how could you ever bear not to forgive him?)
you shift in your seat again. gazing down, chewing at your bottom lip. his honesty makes you falter, makes it hard for you not to do the same; even if your voice ends up sounding awfully tiny and awfully close to breaking apart. 
”… i was just worried,” you mumble, meekly, shooing away any tears you have left with rapid blinks. 
”i know,” suguru soothes. the smile on his face is genuine, comforting, honey and peppermint and warmth. ”i was being immature. you were right — i’ve been burning myself out.”
you don’t say anything. only letting his words console you, feeling yourself relax at the sound of him opening up a little. just enough to make everything all better again.
”i was thinking of taking tomorrow off,” he continues, searching for your timid gaze and smiling gently once he finds it. ”what do you say?”
you brighten a little, so obvious in the way you sit up straighter, the way something soft and hopeful blossoms in the scope of your iris. the sight coaxes suguru’s patient smile into widening a smidge, his eyes crinkling at your barely contained excitement.
”that’d be nice…” you murmur, averting your gaze once more. but suguru can tell you like the sound of that, that it’s exactly what would finally put your anxious mind at ease.
a smile, bright and fond. suguru opens his arms. 
”then i will.”
for a moment, you simply stare. at him, his outstretched limbs — that soft smile, as he waits for you to get the hint. and you blink. 
oh. 
you look down at your lap. a little sheepish, almost shy. it takes you another moment to raise your head, again, only to see another gentle flicker in suguru’s eyes — and then you finally get up from your seat.
it feels a little strange. a little awkward, as if some of your bones still can’t help but tread on eggshells, afraid of making him upset again. but it’s suguru, and he loves you, and his arms are waiting patiently to hold you.
and you want that more than anything. 
so you fall into his arms, softly, curling up in his lap and wrapping your arms around his waist. suguru has one hand on the back of your head and the other on the small of your back, rubbing comforting circles into your spine to make you relax.
it works wonders. despite your initial hesitance, you melt into the embrace without putting up a fuss — happy to be in his arms again, to feel the anxiety dissipate when you realize that everything’s finally alright.
and suguru is just as happy, just as content. breathing out a sigh of relief he didn’t know he was holding. he strokes your hair lovingly, and you nuzzle into him a little more; making his lips quirk up, eyes filling with adoration. finally, he can relax. having you in his arms feels so soothing. and you’re so sweet, curling into him, seeking comfort and warmth that he’s more than happy to provide.
how long has it been since he had a chance to hold you like this? he made sure to be affectionate whenever he could, before leaving for work and after coming back — but in the midst of all the paperwork and stress…
suguru sighs, a little sadder this time, watching you bask in the attention he had been robbing you of this whole time. without even realizing it.
”and i’m sorry for neglecting you, too,” he murmurs, barely above a whisper. muffled by your hair as he presses a kiss against the crown of your head.
that certainly gets your attention.
”neglecting me?” you sputter, eyes suddenly wide open and lips parted in disbelief. flustered, heat rushing to your neck and ears. ”wha — what am i, some high-maintenance puppy? you didn’t neglect me.”
suguru only chuckles, biting back a soft coo that he knows would only fluster you more. instead, he pulls away a little, just to look at you, and pecks your forehead softly.
”well, i’m sorry for not being around much, then. i’ll make it up to you. okay?”
hiding away in his collarbone, again, you mutter a soft okay that has suguru’s heart squeezing in his chest. he cradles you close, engulfs you in his embrace, and hopes you can feel his love through the action. hopes you can feel it in the way his arms fit around you like they were always meant to be right there.
and you do feel his love. feel it smooth away the leftover turmoil in your brain, caress your skin softly. it’s soothing, and comforting, and you feel so incredibly safe. here, in suguru’s embrace, with the sound of rain hitting the window and the scent of peppermint wafting through the kitchen — it’d be impossible not to relax.
before you know it, your eyelids have fluttered shut, breathing softening out and heartbeat slowing down. a peaceful rhythm, carrying you away. suguru notices it before you do.
”you sleeping, baby?”
you jolt a little in his arms — murmuring something unintelligible into his neck, and he only chuckles, the sound rumbling through his chest like a soothing thunderstorm.
”c’mon. let’s get you to bed, hm?” 
suguru smooths a hand down your back, arms tightening around you before he scoops you up and gets up from his seat. ”there we go,” he hums, helping you hike your legs around his waist. ”you can sleep, angel. i’ve got you.”
your arms tighten around him, and you inhale his scent; grounding and comforting, raindrops and roses. tomorrow you can bask in it properly, can take care of him properly. you’ll coddle him all day.
but for now, you need to get some rest.
allowing your senses to dull away, clinging to suguru like a makeshift pillow, you absently listen to the storm still raging on outside. faraway, cold and harsh, but comforting when you’re in his steady grasp.
a yawn escapes your honey-soothed throat.
you don’t miss the i love you murmured into your ear, accompanying you into dreamland as your eyes flutter shut.
3K notes · View notes
fairy-hub · 9 months
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“𝐢𝐭’𝐬 𝐭𝐨𝐨 𝐛𝐢𝐠”
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: light size kink, mating press, big cocks, daddy/princess/sweetheart/mama etc...., fingering, teasing, hints mirror sex, man handling, light pain kink (with toji), light just the tip, squirting, riding suguru’s face, overstimulation, hints at creampie
𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧: can I come up with my own? “It's too big” anyone?
𝐟𝐞𝐲: I couldn't decide which one so I did my favorite three, next is sukuna and choso because why not
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𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮
Loudly moaning, your soaking wet, soft cunt fluttering around Satoru’s thick, long fingers. You're a trembling mess with a drooling cunt despite only getting his tongue and fingers.
With one hand, Satoru pushes his underwear down, kicking it to the side. His cock bobbing, your eyes widening, your soaking wet cunt clenching. In your bubbling panic and lustful haze, you can't think straight.
"You're too big, we can't, it won't! Can it?" Unable to look away from Satoru's beautiful, veiny cock. His pale pink head droops slightly because he's too long to fully stand straight. How many inches could fit inside of you before you’re too full?
Smirking and mocking, "We can't, it won't, can it?” Gliding his thick fingers out, smearing your slick onto his cock. “I think your little sloppy cunt is perfect for my long cock.” His thickness alone is perfect, not too thick but fat enough that the stretch would feel toe curling good.
Swiping his head between your plush lips. “I want to see your beautiful, sweet wet little cunt stretch.” Slipping his blindfold off, watching his pale pink head spread your hole apart. Groaning as the soft ridged line of his head slips inside you.
“Saatorruuuunnn! Nnnn!” Pinning your legs in a mating press, sliding half his head out watching your hole get smaller before stretching to take him again. Curling your toes, biting your lip whining from Satoru light teasing.
“More!” Satoru moans, trusting forward roughly. “Nnnn!” Your eyes temporarily roll back, his cock rubbing your g spot has your cunt spasming. Trembling, moaning you’re so pleasurably full of Satoru’s cock. Getting off on feeling the throbbing of the thick veins when he pauses.
“Fuck! Sweetheart! It’s a perfect fit in your perfect little cunt.” Whining enjoying the texture of his soft yet hard cock gliding along your soft cunt. Clenching your cunt to feeling Satoru better. Enticing a breathy, beautiful moan.
Leaning forward, using some of his weight to pin you do the edge of his bed. “You can take it princess.” You can’t run away, pinned whilst Satoru picks up speed with each thrust. Splaying your fingers on his abs, hardening between your palm with each thrust.
𝐓𝐨𝐣𝐢
Bent over with your ass in the air, and Toji’s thick rough fingers sinking into your hip’s squishy crease. Holding you in place, there would be no pulling away from his merciless thrusts once he starts.
Even without his hand on your hip. He’s too big, too strong, easily capable of effortlessly pinning your body to his bed for him to fuck your small hole without mercy. You want him to so badly. Yet your nerves are getting the best of you.
His veiny cock borders on monstrous in its thickness, equal to a can of coke. Toji is going to split your cunt in two. Fuck do you want him to, but you can’t stop yourself from tensing up. Your nervousness at taking a cock his size getting the best of you.
He croons, “Relax mama.” Pulling his cock away, gliding his three of his thick fingers into your cunt, stretching you apart. “I’ll carry you around after I break your pussy.” His hand drifts from your hip to your puff clit. He knows the perfect pressure and pace to make you lose your mind.
The sweet pleasure soothing your nerves, clouding your head. Curling your toes, voicing your enjoyment of the rough texture of his calloused finger on your soft clit with a moan. “Daddddy! Nnn!” Your cunt squelching loudly, overlapping your needy moans.
“I want to but you’re too big Daddy it won’t fit!” Toji rubs your sensitive clit faster, your thighs trembling, cunt spasming around his fingers. Whining when he glides his fingers out.
Lining his cock up with your soaking wet cunt. “I’m what now?” You can hear the excitement and pride in his deep husky smooth voice.
“You’re too biiiiiiig! Nnn!” Toji rocks forward with a quick thrust. The pleasurably burning stretch of your cunt around his cock makes your toes curl. You want it, but your body can’t handle him.
Running away, twisting your hips trying to comprehend the intensity. He croons, “Aw you think ya can run from me?” You don’t get far before Toji is yanking you back into place. “I’m gonna make your tight little sloppy cunt take my fat cock till she’s dripping my cum.” You’re spread too wide, and your cunt’s too full too quickly.
You reach back, Toji grabs your wrist, holding your hand above your head. Persistently playing with your clit, the extra pleasure overlaps the sweet pain of being stretched so wide. "Nnndaddy! So full!"
Toji leans forward, pressing his muscular chest to your back. You’re helplessly trapped beneath him. The new angle helping him rub your g spot with every thrust. "Tell me how my big cock is making your beautiful cunt feel."
𝐒𝐮𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐮
Relentlessly pumping his pierced tongue into your overstimulated, sensitive, soaking-wet cunt. Trembling, squeezing Suguru’s head with your thighs. The difference between his hard barbell and his soft, warm tongue is too pleasurable.
You couldn’t decide if his barbell feels better inside or you on your clit.
Admiring the outline of Suguru’s hard cock. He looks so big, making your cunt ache with the need for more than just Suguru’s tongue. Pushing on the band, he grounds his feet to lift his hips. Slipping his underwear off, your eyes widen.
Lifting Suguru’s heavy cock up, you’re unable to wrap your hand around him. “Oh fuck!” His massive. Suguru’s long, thick beautiful, veiny cock makes your sensitive cunt drool more onto Suguru’s handsome face.
He groans into your cunt, clenching his tongue. Your sensitive cunt spasming, you’re so close to cumming again. The sweet release is so tauntingly close. “Daddy! You’re too!” You can’t get the words out, your brain stalling.
Thick clear cum squirts into Suguru’s mouth. Pumping his tongue faster, rutting his hip, gliding his cock in your fist. Jerking your hips away, Suguru’s thick muscular arm flexes as he squanders any attempts.
“Too big! Too much! Toonnnn! Daddy! Please! Daddypleasedaddypleaseeeeeee!” Licking your cunt clean before letting you pull away. Only to fall back onto his face, your legs too wobbly and heavy to hold you up.
Suguru lifts you off his face, effortlessly setting you to the side. You lay down, relaxing into his soft comforter, your body is heavy after cumming so hard. The lack of stimulation makes your sensitive clit occasionally twitch.
Suguru stands up at the edge of the bed, taking his underwear the rest of the way off. Grabbing your leg and yanking you to the edge of the bed. That moment of afterglow shatters in place of craving more.
Everything about Suguru is so big. From his towering height, thick beautifully sculpted arms, and muscular, thick thighs were perfect for riding. Groaning, “You’re too big! But fuck me daddy that’s how I want it. I want you so badly I can’t handle it any longer. But I’m..” Unable to admit your nerves, looking up at Suguru, seeking reassurance.
He kisses your forehead, purring. “Don’t worry sweetheart I’m only going to make you feel good.” He flips you over, lining himself up, slowly gliding his cock into your sloppy wet cunt. Purring, "That's it, you doing so well, you can handle it." Grabbing your neck loosely, squeezing your hip, lifting you off the bed.
Taking you to his body-length mirror. The beautiful sight of your smaller body pinned to Suguru’s muscular one with your plush lips parted around his thick cock greets you. “Watch and tell me whose is the gorgeous princess taking her daddy’s big cock?”
O-oreo all works
part two: sukuna, choso
“You’re too tight” pussy-drunk!toji, suguru, satoru and choso
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chuluoyi · 2 months
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࿐ ࿔ 🕰️ 「 08:25 P.M 」
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tw: pregnancy. overall, just some domestic dad-to-be gojo trying to show how much he loves you even with how your body changes and all <3 based on a request!
a part of gojo's love entries
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don’t think that satoru hasn’t noticed how you linger in front of the mirror these days, touching your body all over—particularly your baby bump. seeing your face twist into a sad frown dampens his spirits too.
on the other hand, you understand that it’s a natural process, but you have never gained this much weight before, and despite already having your husband reassure you before, you still feel somewhat meh about yourself.
“how’s my favorite girl and little rascal doing today?” he flopped down on the bed beside you as soon as he returned from school, caressing your belly. “ready to come out yet?”
you throw him an unamused look. “no, satoru. and don’t make it sound so effortless. i’m the one pushing him out.”
“ahh, but i can’t wait though~”
his palpable excitement actually made you smile as you placed your hand over his. but then your smile fell a bit and he was quick to notice it.
“what’s on your mind?” he asked then. “talk to me, hmm?”
“no… it’s nothing.” you looked away, a bit ashamed. if satoru says he’s not bothered by your figure, you really shouldn’t be thinking about this any longer. you didn't want to make him worry… but it really wasn't easy to let it go.
“hmm, my baby mama can’t be sad,” your husband pouted, and suddenly he pulled you closer, wrapping an arm around your shoulder. “she’s the cutest when she smiles.”
you looked up to him, feeling the security in his arms and yet still a hint of uncertainty in your voice. “am i just cute… to you?”
you wanted to be beautiful too. like how he used to sing you praises during your school days.
satoru grinned. and it’s the kind of toothy grin that makes your heart soar.
“no. you’re also pretty.” he tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear. “and you’re smart, kind, nags a lot, gets pouty easily… and you're sweet like a dango, makes me want to gobble you up.”
“so now i’m a dango?” you nestled your head against his broad chest, feeling your face start to heat up, and a smile beginning to curve your lips. stupid satoru. he said all of them so easily it was making you giddy and felt silly for doubting him at all.
“just because our baby is going to be a mochi. and look, you’re so close to carrying him to full-term,” he rubbed your swollen tummy again, this time with a more sincere smile. “i love you the most for it.”
your eyes took a shine, processing his words, and you could’ve sworn that right now, nothing could’ve shaken your feelings for your silly husband.
suddenly your baby kicked you hard as if to reprimand you too for your insecurities, and you winced.
“hurts?” satoru questioned, slightly concerned when you nodded. “wait i’ll tell him off.”
he cleared his throat and began making circular motions on your abdomen, as if to summon him.
“yo, brat. you can’t kick your mama like that too often these days. you’re accumulating karma and she counts it. when you come out, she’ll forbid you from eating our favorite mochis and—”
“satoru!!”
and then the two of you just burst into giggles, and once again, you utterly and thoroughly fell in love with him. for always making you feel safe... and loved.
“you know, satoru...” this time it was you who hugged him, breathing in his scent for comfort. now you were totally worry-free, the softest of smile on your face. “i’m really grateful that... we found each other.”
at your heartfelt confession, satoru felt his chest tighten with warmth and his cheeks flush. he is so blushing and he tries covering it with a chuckle. and the words lingering at the tip of his tongue were—
“heh, aren’t you glad you married me?”
yeah... i’m so glad that it’s you too.
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tootiecakes234 · 4 months
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There is no such thing as being pissed and not sleeping in your shared bed with Katsuki at night.
You have gotten pissed at him several times and been too upset to sleep in the same bed as him.
To be honest you only did it because you KNEW how much he looked forward to holding you at night. He’d spilled his guts one night when he’d had one too many, about how much it calms him to be wrapped around you when he sleeps. Just knowing you’re safe and feeling your warmth mixed with his.
You’d never told him about that night and maybe it was a little toxic using that against him when he upsets you but🤷🏾‍♀️ oh damn well.
But it’s not like it ever does you much good anyways.
You guys had gotten into an argument, so you’d gone and showered, getting ready for bed. Kats was already in there laying down and it seemed like he was almost asleep already.
(Men being able to fall asleep 2 minutes after their heads hit a pillow will never not baffle me)
Anyways you grab your pillow from your side and try to sneak off toward the living room.
“Ya seriously doing this shit?” He grumbles at you.
“Im not going to sleep somewhere im not comfortable… so yes I am. Night” and you walked out of the room and closed the door.
You made yourself comfy on the couch and curled up. It took you a while to go to sleep because whether you wanted to admit it or not, you were always more comfy intertwined with him too. He’s like a weighted, heated blanket.
It feels like you had just closed your eyes when you were slightly jostled.
You already knew it was Katsuki picking you up and carrying you back to your bed.
“Put me down. ‘M not sleepin with you ass face.” You mumble but find yourself snuggling closer to him.
“Your insults suck when you’re half asleep.”
“Katsu-“
“Shut up. If you wanna fight more in the mornin that’s fine but not tonight.”
“Whatever” you didn’t have it in you to argue. Also it wouldn’t have done any good. He does this every time. Let’s you get just enough into your sleep that he knows you’ll be pliable when he comes to get you.
Sometimes you’d wake and sometimes not but either way the next morning you woke up in your bed.
He laid you down and buried you under the blankets before he slid in on his side. Not like he stayed over there.
You felt his arms wrapping around you and his legs tangling with your before you felt a kiss pressed to the back of your neck.
“ Exhausted and my body pillow wants to sleep on the couch,” and he let out this huge exaggerated yawn, “ Ridicuous”
Wow, so where you saw him as a blanket he saw you as a pillow. What a dork.
“ I love you, can’t wait to piss you off again tomorrow”, he said into your skin but you’d already drifted back off to sleep.
Katsuki Masterlist
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onlyswan · 5 months
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summary: in which jungkook gets his motorcycle license and you don’t believe in fate.
idol!jungkook x reader, est. relationship / fluff, a dash of angst / word count: 5.5k
content/warnings: protective!bf jungkook 🫡 / jk gives oc h*ckeys / jk is sad and scared bc many couples r breaking up :( then he gets h*rny and i can’t blame him bc oc is hot / oc loves short skirts n jk is stressed / oc gets an anxiety attack !! bc they thought jk got into an accident / bam cameo <3
> in which masterlist!
note: ART REPORTING FOR DUTY 🫡 it’s been a while so i feel quite rusty and my brain is fried pls bear with me </3 i’m excited to post regularly again and get back into the flow hehe. as always feedback and reblogs are appreciated! 🥺
it is a rather calm afternoon in your shared apartment. you and jungkook may be together in the living room, but you’re each spending your alone time.
you’re sitting on the couch with bam’s head on your lap, your not-so-little baby sleeping soundly. you indulge yourself in a fashion magazine, occasionally lifting your head when you sense your boyfriend staring at you longingly from the desk. he would quickly avert his eyes to feign obliviousness, switching between the laptop or his phone to busy himself.
“babe, spit it out.” you giggle, lowering down the magazine from your face. “is there something wrong…? what do you want?”
“no, it’s nothing. just ignore me.”
“then you’re going to be upset with me when i actually do it?”
“yah! that’s not true!” he looks at you wide-eyed, chest puffing up in defense. “it’s really nothing, okay? you can go back to reading.”
“mkay, whatever you say… i’m not reading, though.”you mumble the last sentence, burying your nose in the magazine again.
with a glittery golden-inked pen, you draw a star beside a bag from the spring/summer collection that you fell in love with at first sight. you hear the clacking of the keyboard pause and resume, pause and resume, but you ignore your boyfriend’s beseeching glances like he asked you to.
minutes pass by on the clock as you flip the pages with twinkling eyes and silent squeals, but they feel like hours to jungkook.
he blinks at the laptop screen as he sinks his teeth on his bottom lip.
he just needs to do it— get it over with. whatever it is, he’s certain that the two of you could reach some sort of compromise… right?
he puts on a face of determination before wheeling the gaming chair towards where you are. and with no one to blame but himself, he releases a disgruntled noise when he collides with the leather couch. the impact sends him a couple of feet away from his destination, but his hands find purchase on your exposed thighs and he brings himself back to you.
his clinginess never fails to fill your stomach with butterflies.
you smile in secret, silent as he hooks his arms underneath your knees and lies his head beside bam’s. he kisses bam’s forehead, and in a somewhat twisted way, you are grateful for all the times the universe tugged at the string of joy and made you chase after it, because it led you here.
he has folded himself in a position that looks wildly uncomfortable, but jungkook likes to torture his senses for some reason, so you let him be. you pretend that no one has invaded your space, attached theirself to you so close that you’re carrying a quarter of their weight; feeling tickled by their exhales against your skin.
you planned to mix yourself a cocktail halfway through your magazine, but that is pushed to the bottom of things you can do now that your boyfriend is displeased with the lack of attention from his lover.
“this won’t do!”
his impatience forces him out of the chair and onto the couch, where he sneaks his strong arms around your waist. the movements shakes bam awake from his slumber. the doberman sits up, tiredly blinks at his father as if he is so done, and leaps off the couch to strut to his house.
jungkook scratches his head guiltily. “bam! dad is sorry that he disturbed your sleep!”
to no one’s surprise, he doesn’t receive a reply.
“oh, bam, are you mad at me…? you can’t be, right? you must understand… we both really love ____, don’t we?”
but he does receive one from you— a fond gaze that thinks of him bizarre.
“he’s not mad!” he defends himself.
“he should be. we were having a peaceful time together.”
“yah, that’s so mean. i’m part of this family too!” he complains with a scowl. “i want to cuddle.”
“no one’s stopping you, babe.”
this time, he hides his face in the crook of your neck.
he breathes you in, and his mind becomes clouded with the natural scent of you, so uniquely you, sweet and fresh like the clouds on a spring day, mixed with a hint of strawberries. humans smell fragrant flowers and break off their stems. jungkook smells you and he bites, sinks his teeth on your skin, sucks, again and again, and then soothes the ache with a slow and gentle slide of his tongue, but it doesn’t erase the marks that blossom into a hue of a bruise.
he licks his lips, wet with saliva, feeling cocky with the memory of your sharp inhales— cockier when he lifts his head and sees the dilation of your pupils behind a curtain of haze.
however, they’re still trained towards the fashion items printed on paper that you so desperately wish would materialize into thin air.
he groans.
“baaaaby,”
“mhmmm?” you mimic the tone of his whine, resting your head on his shoulder— just to be closer, let him know you’re here and you’re listening.
he clears his throat, prepares for the worst.
“these days, there’s something i’ve been thinking of a lot… i’ve been researching here and there, too…”
“about?”
“motorcycles…”
“okay,”
“okay?”
bewildered by your nonchalant response, he pulls away to squint at you in suspicion.
“…i’m planning to buy one and get a license? like, maybe next week?”
“okay,” you repeat yourself.
hit with a twinge of confusion, you briefly tear your eyes away from the beautiful gowns worn by beautiful models.
“are you telling me or are you asking me?”
“uh- uhm,” he stutters. “i’m telling you.”
“alright then,”
his chest puffs up as he inhales sharply. “that’s it?!”
“what do you want me to say?” you flip a page, a flicker of amusement flashing across your face. “you’re not allowed to…? i mean- sure, i can do that, too.“
“no, no, no, no, no-” he kisses your cheek— nearly, barely, he’s smiling too big to do it properly. “no, really! are you serious?”
“why won’t you believe me?” the magazine lands on your lap as you cross your arms in annoyance. “what do you think of me?”
“i heard couples really fight about this in particular, though?” he chuckles, and it’s your pouted lips’ turn to be granted a kiss. “sorry, i assumed you won’t approve of this one. you’re so strict with me about driving safely.”
“it’s no problem because i know you’re responsible. i just get worried sometimes,” you mumble. “when you’re tired from work.”
“i know,”
“good,” you sigh, leaning into him to steal a kiss yourself. “can i just ask you for one thing then?”
“yes,” he nods eagerly. “anything.”
“if i find out that you didn’t wear a helmet one time…” you tuck your bottom lip in between your teeth, unsure what type of reaction you will elicit. “you’re getting rid of it.”
“three times-”
“oh my god, absolutely not!”
the sheer horror painted on your face further fuels his mischief.
“twice?”
“you said anyth-”
“please?”
“no! then i’m getting rid of it myself!”
you shove his shoulder, and he allows himself to fall flat on the couch before bouncing back with the mission to ease your mind.
“i’m just joking, baby!” his giggles fill the entire apartment.
he cages your face in his hands but you stubbornly resist.
“i’m joking- i’m joking. i’m sorry. come here, give me a kiss.”
he makes a smooching sound with his puckered lips and you send an unimpressed glare in return.
“promise me first,” your fingers wrap around his wrist to deny his affectionate advances. “one time!”
“i promise!”
“and you won’t get angry at me?”
and with that, his heart begins to ache in his chest. the shift in your voice, the nervousness blanketed by softness… fuck.
“how hard can that possibly be?”
he just remembered how upset you were when he got himself infected after visiting a tattoo shop in america. you told him it would probably be best to do more research on the place, but he isn’t jungkook if he isn’t stubborn. it was hell, to say the least. being in pain and fighting with you for days. you would tend to him and the silence would rub salt on the wound.
today, however, he was more than prepared to defend his case in the event that he faces rejection.
he doesn’t.
on the contrary, he is a given a gift.
“i hate you,” you whimper, but your words contradict the way you respond to his kisses— the sharpness of them has been dulled by his tongue. he tastes like the green apple lollipop that you completely forgot you left on the desk four days ago.
he draws back with a playful grin.
thief… your kisses and your candy and your body and your heart. all his.
“huh, you don’t mean that.”
“i do!”
“i love you,” he utters tenderly. “i trust you to set me straight when i need to get my shit together.”
“then you understand that i just don’t want it to become a habit, right…?”
what does he think of you? a person who treats him with utmost gentleness, supports his happiness, and worries about his safety— a person more important to him than himself.
“and even if it’s only one time… we never know what’s going to happen. i wouldn’t be able to bear seeing you outside the celebrity segment of the news. jungkook, i swear.” you pray that he doesn’t hear the crack in your voice, disguising it with a layer of humor. “i will lose my mind.”
“of course i understand! that won’t ever happen, baby! i want to tell you not to worry too much, but… but to be honest… i think i will be more upset if you don’t lecture me about this kind of thing at all.”
“really?”
“yes. because then doesn’t that mean you no longer care about me?”
this whole time, you’ve been saying i don’t want you to get hurt i love you i love you i love you i love you i love you, and he hears you clearly— like how one recognizes their favorite song playing in public even from far away.
you smile sheepishly. “show me the motorcycle you want.”
your outspoken interest makes jungkook’s face light up like a christmas tree.
“there’s actually a few that i’m looking at…” he trails off, running back to the desk to grab his laptop.
“i’ll help you choose!” you clap your hands excitedly. “is there a pink one?”
“pink?!” he exclaims, which is then followed by endeared laughter. “you want it?”
you assume that he is going to ignore the silly idea, that is until he returns to his seat beside you.
“sure, there should be one somewhere.” he whispers, more to himself, typing away on the keyboard to feed your curiosity.
“really? really?” you babble, clinging to his arm to take a peek at the screen.
“hmmm,” he hums. “get a license too and i’ll buy it for you.”
a sound of disapproval bubbles in your throat. “eh, not for me. i want you to use it.”
jungkook dramatically pauses. he stares at you, doe eyes infront of blazing headlights.
he releases a burdened sigh.
“why me?!”
“bend over,” jungkook commands sternly, standing arms crossed infront of the bedroom door to deny your exit. “right now.”
“eh?” you gape at him. “but aren’t we goi-”
“i said turn around, baby.”
you’re left with no choice when his patience runs thin and he captures your hand— it comes so naturally when you twirl on your toes as if you’re waltzing to a slow love song. he pushes you forward gently, and you carry your innate grace all the way to the arch of your back.
jungkook swallows down a moan elicited by the tantalizing view, clearing his throat. he masks the sound by unceremoniously spanking your ass, the skin-to-skin contact also causing a sharp sting to spread across his palm.
“shit- i knew it, it’s too short.” he tugs your skirt down, a useless attempt at concealing your white lace underwear. he harshly breathes out in exasperation. “baby, i can see everything! you can’t ride a motorcycle wearing this!“
“what? motorcycle?! i can finally ride it?!”
you only heard one word come out of your boyfriend’s mouth, it seems.
you flip in excitement, facing him again with a smile as bright as the sunny sky outside. “you got your license? why didn’t you tell me?!”
“i was going to surprise you but-”
he still looks stressed out, eyes trained to your skirt- well, your legs. the skirt is barely there.
“going back here from the parking lot to change would be-”
“but it’s miu miu,” you quietly remark, looking down at the article of clothing with a frown. “it’s not that short…”
“look at the mirror,” he points to your left with his eyes, but then he is already carrying you by the curves of your waist so that your back is facing it.
you bend down on your own, and jungkook clicks his tongue when you only giggle heartily upon seeing your own reflection.
“it’s fiiine! you’re there to protect me. i just won’t bend down.”
“but won’t you get cold?”
“nope!” you reply without a second to spare. “for fashion, i never get cold.”
it’s been more than five years since he met you; jungkook knows damn well that is very far from the truth. not a single autumn and winter have passed that he didn’t lend you his jacket, his warmth, and then some more, simply because you refuse to stop wearing skirts until you’re at the verge of freezing to death.
alright, maybe he’s being dramatic, and you’re stubborn as hell.
“and i’m wearing my tall boots,” you raise your leg in a straight line to show off the leather brown boots that stop below your knees. “look, look… don’t i look cute?”
cute? such a word won’t do you justice. you’re acting like he’s not also looking at your panties.
“of course,” a soft smile replaces his hardened features. “you look so beautiful, baby.”
“hm, thought so,” you scrunch your nose, and his heart skips a beat.
damn, but that- there’s definitely no other word to describe it but the word cute.
“but how about, let’s say, wearing a coat over it?”
“jungkook! no!” you grunt, punching his arm- but then a lightbulb illuminates your brain.
“or shorts under it-”
“oh my god, i think you have one that matches. i remember i saw it the other day-”
“no, wait, wait, wait- shorts are safer! ____!”
you sprint back to the walk-in closet, leaving jungkook alone in the bedroom.
“come back here!”
he jerks his head in distress, rubbing his eyes harshly with his tattooed knuckles.
“ah, ____!”
“what?!” you yell, voice bouncing off the walls of your apartment. “i found it!”
“is it too tight?” jungkook inquires, looking up to you from the floor.
you bend your knees to assess the tightness of knee pads. “nope, it’s good.”
he proceeds to grab the elbows pads he hung over the handle of the motorcycle.
“hmmm, next… you wear these instead.”
you pout, recalling that he forgot his riding jacket at work yesterday. “but what about you?”
“i only have one pair.” he says. “it’s fine, it’s just for now. let’s pick up my jacket at the company before going to the museum.”
“how about let’s wear one each?”
upon processing the mechanics of your suggestion, his tall and broad frame shakes with mirth.
you obviously grew up with little siblings. they were so lucky to have you.
“hey! what are you laughing at?”
“nothing, you’re just cute.” he chuckles, wrapping the other protective pad around your left elbow. “just wear them both. i’m confident with my driving but… i still need you as safe as possible, baby.”
“but jungkook! what if y-” you whine out a protest, which he instantly silences by slipping your helmet over your head. “ugh, you’re so rude!”
he beams with pride as he clips its straps beneath your chin. “wow, it fits so perfectly? i only guessed… ah, as expected of jeon jungkook.”
his hand freezes on the visor when you strike him with the beady eyes, pouting your lips to request for a kiss, which he grants— more than willingly. gladly. happily. with pleasure.
cruising through the city on a motorbike with the love of his life; going on dates; putting on your helmet for you and learning how to angle his face for when he steals a kiss— he used to only witness this in romance films.
at the end of the day he’s just a simple man, jungkook admits.
what a dream come true.
it definitely becomes clearer to jungkook today— why you did not oppose the idea of him getting a motorcycle license on such short notice.
“this is so cool!“ you squeal behind him, subconsciously raising the pitch of your voice to contest with the wind and the roaring engines.
“____, be careful,” he chides you. “or else i’ll slow down!”
a sense of relief washes over him as you readjust your arms around his waist, your weight resting on him ironically making his chest feel lighter.
if only jungkook could protect you by keeping you bubblewrapped at all times, he would.
“you’re enjoying this more than i expected.”
the two of you idle before a red light. he balances the two-wheeled vehicle with his left foot planted on the ground.
“is it fun?”
“so much fun!” you gush, enthusiasm overflowing past the seams of your lips. “you already drive like a pro!”
“of course! i studied hard! i don’t plan on putting you in danger with my stupidity!”
“still-” you interject. “you’re just good at everything.”
while he is aware that he is gifted in many ways, technically speaking, jungkook knows he can’t possibly be good at everything. but hearing it come from the person he love and adore most in the world? he can’t help but to allow it to inflate his ego a little bit.
ten seconds before the traffic light turns green.
his smirk is hidden inside his helmet, but you can masterfully envision it in your head just from the transparent smugness in his voice.
“time to hold on again, baby.”
“i think you just like me feeling you up.” you muse.
you teasingly slip one hand underneath his shirt to caress his toned stomach, and he hisses out a curse. with how strict you are about road safety, one would assume that you would restrain on being frisky while riding a vehicle thirty times more dangerous than a car. you either have too much in trust your boyfriend or you underestimate your effect on him.
in his case, double the thirty.
the engine roars to life and the wheels screech against the concrete road. your gentle touch turns into a bruising grip on his waist.
jungkook thinks that you might be right. he would never miss an opportunity to feel your skin on his skin. he selfishly decides then and there— he now prefers motorycle rides with you.
it doesn’t take you long to catch up to that fact. when he tells you wear something comfortable, you also know not to spend too much time doing something cute with your hair because the helmet will just turn it into a tousled mess. for the past two months, he has been calling you every night to ask whether you want to be picked up from work with the bike or the car, because as much as you both relish in the thrill and the wind and the intimacy, sometimes you fall asleep on the way home from exhaustion and he doesn’t want you… quite literally falling on the streets of seoul.
but today is your day-off, and with your head hanging from the edge of the bed, you tear your attention away from your phone to find jungkook is upside down. he stands outside the bedroom door hugging your rainbow hello kitty plushie to his chest, frowning woefully with a cause you are clueless about.
the contrast of his black t-shirt with the rainbow makes you crack a smile, reminiscent of the countless memes you’ve seen on the internet. you find it funny, but mostly endearing. because you’re the one who loves colors but dreams of nightmares, while he loves dark colors but dreams of stars, fairies, and soaring through skies and different dimensions. you don’t believe in fate. however, jungkook believes that it was fate that brought him to you, and that you are the person he is destined with. you don’t believe in fate, but you wholeheartedly, unequivocally believe in him.
“i was watching the news-” he huffs, seemingly perplexed. “why is everyone breaking up all of a sudden?”
“who broke up?”
he freezes, attempting to recall the names that flashed across the television screen only minutes ago. “i honestly don’t know them, but still!”
“then why are you pouting?”
he doesn’t answer. instead, he carelessly tosses the plushie on the bed before climbing on it, sneaking his arms between your torso and the mattress to engulf you in a bone-crushing embrace. your phone slips away from your grip, buried somewhere in the sheets, but when big bundle of love and warmth is over you, it’s impossible to be consumed by anything else.
you weave your fingers through his hair, whispering teasingly. “scared of being in the headlines too?”
“scared…” he agrees, then he doesn’t. “of losing you.”
he scoots closer to nuzzle his face against your neck, his warm breath fanning your skin.
“i-it’s just,” he pauses. “ah, i don’t know! nevermind, forget it.”
“no, tell me. it’s okay.” your hands cup his cheeks, coaxing him to look at you. “tell me what’s bothering you. whatever it is. i’ll listen.”
there’s a glint of melancholy on his glassy eyes, and you desperately want to know what brought forth this pain so you can take it all away. your heart shatters when his nose scrunches into a sniffle, skin becoming more flushed, a shade of red that dusts his skin only when he cries.
“when couples break up after a long time… many of them say…” he trails off, held back by uncertainty.
“they say?” you urge him to continue, pretending to be absorbed in fixing his hair— running your fingers through the soft locks, rearranging his bangs, trying to see if they’re long enough to be tucked behind his ears— all in an indulgent effort to show him that this type of conversation doesn’t need to be awkward or intense.
“they say that… that they just woke up one day and- and realized they were no longer-” his lips curve into a frown, deeper than before, and you mirror him without knowing. “happy, or in love.”
he breathes shakily, avoiding your eyes to gather himself together.
fuck, jeon jungkook. man up! are you seriously going to cry right now? like this?
“and we’ve been together for five years.”
“almost five,” you correct him with a sweet smile, poking his soft cheek right where one of his dimples would be. “our anniversary is right around the corner.”
the unadulterated joy you radiated as you spoke those words makes the trepidation in his brain glitch.
“sorry, i couldn’t help myself. please continue.”
he licks his lips, and then opens his mouth but- “i’ve lost my train of thought.”
“oh my god, i’m sorry.”
“for what?”
“you were talking about something serious.” you wince guiltily.
“our anniversary is something serious too!” he points out, pouting cutely.
“yes, but… it’s a different story, breakups are- jungkook! why are you suddenly laughing?!” you sputter, shoving him away in annoyance when you hear a snort in the midst of his uncontrollable giggles. “what’s so funny…? you were just so close to crying!”
he shakes his head profusely, collapsing over you, but he ends up rolling over to the side so he can lie on his back and clutch at his aching belly.
“ah, ____! my heart fluttered when you mentioned our anniversary. i totally forgot what i was talking about!”
if it fluttered earlier, now it goes absolutely wild in his ribcage.
your positions are switched before he can comprehend it— you’re now on all fours on top of him. his head is trapped in between your arms and your gold necklace is dangling over his face and you’re straddling his lap and now it’s getting harder to breathe and not picture obscene images that involve you worshipping his body.
he probably likes this way too much than he cares to admit.
“do you see it now?”
he purses his lips, obviously distracted, controlled by his desire for you as he finds the curves of your waist to caress. “see what?”
“that you don’t need to be anxious about us not being happy in the future, because we’re happy right now.”
he cannot detect an ounce of hesitation even if he tried. you are steady. you are sure. something intangible and inexplicable floods your souls when your eyes meet, but the two of you know that it exists and it is real.
“fuck… i love you. i fucking love you so much.” his voice borders on a growl, and a whimper escapes your lips just before they crash against his for a kiss so full of passion that it completely catches you offguard. he pulled you down so swiftly that your hands anchored on the bed scrambled for his forearms to break your fall, nails digging into his skin as you balance yourself.
jungkook isn’t much for words, but something in him always wants more. he likes to speak with his tongue in a way so sweet that it compels you to abandon your vocabularies in the farthest back of your mind.
you sit down on his lap breathless after making out. your boyfriend watches you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand, slipping his hands underneath his head as he cockily grins in satisfaction.
you roll your eyes at the sight of his biceps being shamelessly flexed. “bastard,”
“bastard you’re crazy about,”
“unfortunately,” you sigh with faux disappointment, hugging the hello kitty plushie you picked up from the floor.
“want to go for a ride?”
“to where?”
“anywhere,” he shrugs. “it’s already late so there shouldn’t be traffic anymore.”
you jump off the bed without another word, returning a minute later clad in a black harley davidson jacket. you look so fucking chic and attractive in it, he always pats himself on the back for buying it for you.
jungkook would go against all laws of the universe if it meant spending a hundred more almost five years with you, until the hello kitty plushie you’re still hugging becomes gray and unrecognizable.
“babe, why are you still staring at me like that? i’m ready!”
from the entrance, jungkook discerns your familiar figure pacing back and forth across your designated parking spaces. you appear to be engrossed in your phone as you nibble on your thumb, which he knows to be a tell-tale sign of your anxiety. you just got your nails done, and for the first three days, you’re usually very conscious of messing them up.
you fail to notice the loud presence of his motorcycle, not until he has successfully parked and pushed down its side stand on the ground.
“baby! what are you doing out here?”
he lifts off the helmet, ruffling his hair to tame it. and as he brushes his stubborn bangs away from his eyes, that’s when he sees his lover overcome with distraught.
his heart drops to his stomach.
your eyes are filled with unshed tears, chin trembling with the struggle of holding them back.
“jungkook!” you wail out his name, and you haven’t cried this loud since you were sixteen.
an unnamed neighbor walks by the scene and says to theirself, somebody must’ve died.
“yah- why? why, why, why?” he stumbles over his own words in panic, carelessly hanging the helmet on one of the handles of the motorcycle as he gets off. “what’s wrong? baby? what happened?”
you hide your face in the palms of your cold yet clammy hands, ashamed by the surge of your emotions flooding the parking lot as acid rain, but a sense of safety blankets you when jungkook gingerly tugs you towards him.
“i thought something bad happened to you! a car hit a motorcycle nearby- and i thou- i really thought-”
“oh, that’s right! how did you know?” he gasps. “i passed by them earlier. there were so many people and police officers.”
“jungkook!” you snap, hitting his chest in frustration.
“sorry- i’m sorry! okay, that was insensitive of me- fuck.” he rambles, and you visibly cringe when his glove-clad hands touch your face.
the texture, and only god knows all the places it’s been…
“there’s no need to cry, baby! i’m already here, aren’t i? i’m so healthy. there’s not a single scratch on me.”
he hastily takes off his jacket to reveal himself in a white sleeveless shirt. spotless that it looks brand-new.
“see? all good!“
you fall silent. your eyes frantically scan his body, but your brain doesn’t really register anything that you perceive.
“aigoo, why are you shaking so much?”
he can’t bear to watch you in this state. he feels nauseous, almost, like his gut is being twisted and wrung in different ways.
“my baby must’ve been so worried about me, is that right? come here.”
in the solace of jungkook’s embrace, wrapped in his strong arms that are, praise heavens, not broken, the pounding of your heart gradually returns to normal.
his, however, becomes louder. and these days he likes to believe that he is no longer the crybaby he once was, but his skin feels flushed as tears fills his eyes, because damn, what a blessing it is to be loved by you.
he leans on the motorcycle, lovingly rocking you back and forth with shushes and soft hums.
time flies by when you are floating, but jungkook is patient as he waits for you to land and come home to him, even when his feet have fallen asleep.
“you haven’t forgotten your promise?” you whisper.
“never not wear a helmet,” he coos, pressing his lips to your temple. “of course i haven’t forgotten.”
“good,” you mumble, drawing back. “go home and shower. you’re all so sweaty.”
“i will. i feel so sticky.” he chortles. “this is so annoying. i hate summer!”
you continue to cling to jungkook all the way to the apartment unit, arms circled around his torso and soft cheek smushed against his back. snuggling him from behind like a koala does a tree is a newly-discovered joy. and if you were single you would be rolling your eyes at a person for saying this, but it is quite wonderful to have a boyfriend for a pillow that is also a blanket. has anyone invented that?
“you know, i regret not getting a motorcycle earlier.”
“why?”
the door opens with a short jovial jingle as a signal.
“i saw someone with a puppy in a basket this morning. it was even wearing goggles! it was really cute!” he laments, dragging you along with him into the living room. “ah, i’m an idiot. why didn’t i think of that? we could’ve done that with bam!”
you form the mental image of tiny baby bam wearing tiny goggles and a tiny leather jacket, and then another, but with the current bam.
“but bam is already as big as the bike!” you dissolve into laughter.
jungkook grunts, and you can’t tell whether he’s genuinely feeling this regretful or he’s just trying to distract you after you broke down with the mind-numbing anxiety of losing him forever.
“exactly!”
you sink into the couch, instinctively reaching for the hello kitty plushie to hug. meanwhile, he begins stripping off his shirt.
“it’s not even possible at all now!”
“but i do want to see him wear goggles…” you say in jest, fishing out your phone from the pocket of your shorts. “should i look for one?”
wait, what do you even type for it? dog goggles?
“i found them. there are helmets, too.” you gasp, covering your mouth as an epiphany hits you. “the puppy wasn’t wearing a helmet?”
driven by curiosity, jungkook sits next to you as you search for the item online. he is practically naked, left wearing only his black calvin klein boxers.
“oh,” he pauses. “now that you mention it, the puppy wasn’t wearing one.”
“how are you still sweaty?” with your thumb, you wipe the bead of sweat threatening to enter his eye. “go shower first.”
he manages to sneak a chaste kiss to your wrist before it becomes out of reach.
“before that, i need to tell you something.”
you bob your head, encouraging him to speak out, but the longer you maintain eye-contact with him, the faster his impulsive courage melts into a puddle of nervousness.
marry me.
marry me.
“baby…”
“yes?” you half-smile. “what is it? you’re starting to scare me.”
marry me.
when i see the future, i only see you.
“i love you.”
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sirenscriptures · 5 months
Text
princess treatment - mw2 men
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✧ synopsis: men who secretly (or not so secretly) live for treating you like royalty. even in the most mundane or difficult of times, you are their personal sanctuary.
۶♡ৎ featuring: johnny “soap” mactavish, simon “ghost” riley, captain john price, alejandro vargas, and könig.
before you read: female reader, sub reader, lots and lots of body worship, praise, soft sex, a little dacryphilia if u squint, breeding, cockwarming, cunnilingus, hair pulling, fingering, mirror sex, use of pet/endearment names.
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۶♡ৎ johnny “soap” mactavish ۶♡ৎ
✧ if there’s a man who is never ashamed to spoil you in any way he can, it’s johnny. ever since you two made it official he was all over the idea of showing you off and spoiling you to no end.
✧ outside of combat and missions, you can bet he dedicates so much of his time to you–his sweet girl.
✧ god help you if he comes home from a longer mission. you will not be able to pry him away from you for days. it’s not like you mind at all, though. his kisses are everything you wanted, so weighted and passionate, and he’s not even fully through the threshold of the front door when he first sees you again.
✧ his hands are already nestled in your hair, pressing your back against the wall as his tongue slips into your mouth. with his warm breath tickling your mouth, you can’t help but let out one of the sweetest whimpers he’s ever heard. god, it never fully occurred to him how much he loved to make you whine for him.
✧ “oh banphrionsa…” he murmurs, lips moving down to your sensitive neck. “i missed you.”
✧ “i missed you, too…” you stammer out feebly, the heat rising within your cheeks. your already flustered expression sparks a familiar fire within him as he moves you into his arms, carrying you towards your shared bedroom.
✧ it doesn’t take much to get you both out of your clothes, yet johnny still can’t get over how good you look. every time he gets to see you like this, it doesn’t matter how many times, he still gets so excited over it.
✧ “shit, baby…” he murmurs, peppering kisses on your upper body as he climbs on top of you. “you make me so crazy, y’know that?”
✧ nodding, you can’t help but give him that flirty smile that he loves so much. his lips crash onto yours again, tongue relishing the taste of your mouth. meanwhile, his hands are admiring your bare body as if you’re a rare jewel.
✧ even when just kissing you, it’s clear soap adores you in every way possible. it’s evident in the way he touches, kisses, and fucks you. he never wastes a single moment with you, and is always making sure you know just how special you are.
✧ even in between thrusts, his hands and words always ensure you’re reminded that you’re his special girl—his princess. the feeling of him stretching out your walls as he continually praises you is enough to draw you to tears—from both overstimulation and emotion.
✧ when he can tell you’re close to an orgasm, he pulls you closer into him even more, thrusts going deeper and deeper each moment. “i love you so much, sweetheart.” he groans, seed sputtering inside of you as your back arches against his chest, the sweetest moans flowing from your lips as you finish along with him.
۶♡ৎ simon “ghost” riley ۶♡ৎ
✧ for someone so reserved as simon, it was no surprise how much he valued your time alone together.
✧ in the past, he really preferred to be by himself when he had the time to spare. he always felt most himself when he wasn’t around too many people. but over time, it became natural that you were with him in these moments that brought him great peace.
✧ but past all things missions and duty, he deeply cherished when he got to be home alone with you. that way, he felt completely devoted to treating you the way you always deserved: like royalty.
✧ well, his version of royalty in this sense was a bit different than the conventional meaning of the term. but, in true simon fashion, it was quite fitting. and plus, he knew you loved it.
✧ the way he held you so perfectly in front of the mirror, hands caressing your body as his cock plunged in and out of you, he made sure you felt within every inch that you were all his.
✧ with your walls fluttering around him, you made it so much harder for him to hold back. simon knew you felt the same, the way your breaths depleted to mere shudders, your eyes glazing over with the faintest hint of tears.
✧ gently, his hand cupped under your chin, making you stare at your delicate frame against his broad chest. “now, now, sweet girl…” he purrs, breath tingling on your neck.
✧ “i can’t have you breaking on me now, can i?” his slightly raspy tone is loving, yet teasing you at the same time as a calloused thumb swipes away a tear streaking down your cheek. simon has always hated seeing you cry, but when he can make you cry from pure pleasure, you can bet that makes him feel on top of the world.
✧ “i need you to see how pretty you are, love.” you don’t even have to see his full face to feel his smirk against you. not even his full coverage mask could hide that from you on his best day.
✧ there is a sense of pride in his gaze as he looks at you through your reflection. with his hand under your chin, your expression is absolutely priceless. your glassed-over, desperate eyes practically plead for more, and your kiss-swollen lips are still as irresistible as ever. he can’t hide how proud he is that he’s made a mess of you–his sweet girl.
✧ “there you are, princess.” he teases, watching you stare at yourself in a daze. his thrusts are slow in and out of you as a free hand rubs and pinches at your nipples. your head falls back onto his shoulder, another broken moan falling from your agape mouth. simon feels you clenching around him again, the feeling earning a growl from him.
✧ but still, his thrusts remain tender and slow, ensuring you feel every part of him. as much as he’d love to ravage you with rough, fast thrusts, he loves your reactions to his deep, slow pace far too much in this moment. plus, this was all about your pleasure.
✧ it isn’t long before his warm seed is ribboning inside you, eventually dribbling down your quivering thighs as your orgasm joins with his own. your noises are so sweet, something he can never get enough of. and the look of you is enough to make him fall in love with you thousands of times over.
✧ he smiles at you, lips colliding messily with yours, admiring how warm your face is as he holds you. “you did so well for me,” he murmurs, breathing in your comforting scent. “my pretty girl.”
۶♡ৎ john price ۶♡ৎ
✧ believe it or not, captain price could be quite the romantic type. though, as a man with such a stoic position as a captain, that side never got much of a chance to reveal itself. unless, of course, he was alone with his favorite woman in the world…
✧ getting to see him in such a rare position felt so special to you. he was so sweet and gentle with you, it always found a way to make you swoon. and you bet price adored having that effect over you.
✧ the fact his mere touch could make you melt beneath him was enthralling, and definitely made him want more. of course, what better way to do that than to spoil you, right? after all, that was his favorite thing to do when he had his time with you.
✧ but it was his absolute favorite when he could be in between your legs, and he could stay there for hours. the feeling of you squirming beneath him had so many ways of making him feral for you, and he knew you loved it when he got to that point.
✧ while his tongue swirled over your sensitive clit, he could feel your hips bucking into his face ever so slightly, your noises growing louder each moment. you could hardly contain yourself any longer, and price adored every second of it.
✧ every few minutes, he would lay sweet kisses over your folds, fingers teasing your entrance from time to time. “sweetheart, you have no idea the things you do to me…” he breathes out, suckling at the sensitive bud again.
✧ your back starts to arch at his words, hands gripping tightly at the sheets. price lets out a satisfied chuckle as his fingers finally push inside your wetness. the feeling of your walls is just as he expects: heavenly. you’re so warm and welcoming to his fingers, it's almost hard for him not to push himself into you as a whole right then and there.
✧ “close already, yeah?” he teases, mouth still working at you, his fingers doing the same. the look in your eye confirms that for him, making his blood rush with excitement as your bottom lip hooks beneath your teeth.
✧ he smirks at you from between your legs. “well, allow me to help with that, angel.” price let his fingers curl inside of you towards your sweet spot, earning a strangled cry from you, your back arching even more.
✧ as his tongue slithered about your wetness, he marveled at the way you tightened around his fingers, especially when you released yourself. you sounded so sweet, and he couldn’t deny he wanted more of that from you.
✧ his lips finally met with yours, pulling your body close to his again. though, he was nowhere near done with you, he knew he wanted to admire you in this pleasure-filled haze just a bit more…
۶♡ৎ alejandro vargas ۶♡ৎ
✧ despite his roughened, at times crass exterior, alejandro had no problem showing his soft, vulnerable side to you and only you. he seldom ever let that gentle side slip outwards in front of just anybody, so you considered yourself lucky to have grown this close to him.
✧ besides, nothing could ever beat having those hypnotic dark eyes and that charming smile of his directed at you, and only you.
✧ but there was something about that certain…look you gave him in these moments that filled him with an endless desire to please you and spoil your body in so many different ways. it was that sweet, almost innocent look with a small lip bite that could make him fold you over in a matter of seconds.
✧ one thing about alejandro is that he preferred when he could take his time with you. he was the last one who wanted a quickie or something short. if he was going to pleasure his love, he was going to make sure you felt it.
✧ so when he has you sprawled out on the bed, cockwarming him as he caresses every inch of you, he can’t help but tease you just a bit from time to time. your whole body responds to him so perfectly, it’s too good of an opportunity to pass up. can you really blame him?
✧ “ale…” you mewl out shakily, the feeling of his lips on your neck nearly pushing you over the edge. he smirks at you, hands continuing to massage your breasts. “hmm?” he hums against your skin, still leaving pretty marks all over you.
✧ you can barely even form words in this state. “mmmh, need you…” you stagger, breath hitching as his tongue starts to swirl around your protruding nipple.
✧ “you need to use your words, mi vida.” he presses a kiss to your neck again, taking you by the chin gently so he can stare at you properly. “what do you need from me?”
✧ alejandro’s gaze is soft yet still commanding, easily sending a shiver down your back. you take a breath, cupping his face in your hand. “i…need you to fuck me, please.” you manage, that sweet look that drove him feral still in your eyes.
✧ his lips press messily against you, a hand wrapping around your neck now. “que educada, princesa.” he chuckles, admiring how you tremble beneath him as he starts to move.
✧ his growls only add to your pleasure as he pushes deep inside you, your walls responding with a warm clench, making his grip on your hips tighter. you can feel your orgasm growing closer, moans growing shaky and incoherent.
✧ listening to his name fall so shattered from your lips pushed him over the edge, cum spilling into you as he watched in awe as your legs trembled and you clenched around him a final time.
✧ between warm, breathless kisses, he smiles at you again. “you’re so good to me, amor.” he says, pulling you close to his chest.
۶♡ৎ könig ۶♡ৎ
✧ in all honesty, könig has no idea how he got so lucky to have you. you were everything and more he could’ve ever asked for in a woman.
✧ even though he was far from inexperienced in the world of relationships and intimacy, you had a way of making him feel like it was the first time in every moment he got to spend with you.
✧ but some of his favorite moments came from when he got to spoil you. it didn’t matter if it was taking a lazy day where you stayed home or in bed for hours in the late morning, or if he was taking you out to one of your favorite places, as long as he was in your company, he was more than content.
✧ but if he had to pick an absolute favorite pastime with you… it had to be when he was able to worship you from head to toe.
✧ there was something so enthralling for both of you, having such a large man, in nothing but his boxers, on his knees in front of you, kissing every single inch of you as you sat on the bed, staring down in admiration.
✧ könig’s gentle expression as he looks up at you still has the power to give you butterflies even after being together for so long. the closer his mouth gets to the fabric of your underwear, he gives you a look until you eventually nod, making his lips spread into a smile.
✧ peeling the fabric to the side, his tongue swirls over your wetness. your back arches in response, head falling back as you let a moan escape. hearing you in this state drives him even further, pulling you by your hips against his face.
✧ even when you’re trembling, he continues. your moans have broken down to shaky sobs as he tonguefucks you, his growls vibrating against you. he can’t get enough of your taste, even when you’ve already come for him.
✧ eventually, he pulls away, licking his lips before kissing a trail up your stomach. his eyes stare into yours lovingly, fingers running through your hair.
✧ “you did so well, meine liebe.” he praises, kissing your neck before smirking. “but i’m nowhere near done with you.”
“banphrionsa” = princess, “mi vida” = my life, “que educada, princesa.” = how polite, princess. “meine liebe” = my love.
written by sirenscriptures. do not repost on any other website. do not translate, copy, or use.
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