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tags: jack abbot x younger fem!reader, fluff to the max, sweet feelings, jack finding and recognizing his second second half, reader's age is not specified
notes: i thought this would be a cute idea, so why not! this is smaller than my normal one shots, but i think keeping is short helps it along. i hope you all enjoy, and like always if you'd like to join my permanent taglist please comment on this post ! enjoy!
word count: 1.8k
The first time Jack had seen you read the morning paper after staying over, he thought that might have been a poke at his old age.
But what else was he supposed to think when you literally stepped outside, grabbed the plastic covered paper, brought it over to the table, and actually opened it, your eyes scanning the lines with careful precision. Every so often, you’d pick your mug up and take a sip of your straight black coffee before going right back to the paper.
He bit his lip, either to stifle a laugh or stop him from blurting out something so sarcastic it might sound mean.
Instead, he settled on, “You know you don’t have to do that?”
The paper crinkled as you folded it in half, your sleepy face pinched slightly in confusion. “Do what?”
“Read the paper,” he responded, running a nervous hand through his curls. “I get that my age is showing, but you don’t have to read the paper.”
“Oh.” You looked down at the paper before looking back at him. “Um, no, I actually read the paper, honey. It slows my morning. Less phone time, less eye strain, yada yada yada.”
His eye brows lifted. “Okay.”
You covered a giggle. “Surprised?”
Jack shook his head, mouth pulling to the side. “A bit. Just didn’t know people over the age of sixty-five read the paper.” He walked over with two plates full of breakfast food and placed them on the table.
A hum rumbled through your chest when he pressed a kiss to your forehead. “It’s fine. I know it’s a bit out of the blue, but—”
“No, sweetheart, I shouldn’t have said anything,” he muttered, groaning as he sat in his chair next to you. “It’s cute; you’re cute.”
“Thank you.”
He’d never say it out loud, but he enjoyed seeing the hint of blush rise through your cheeks as he cut through the first bite of pancake. You had been right after all, he though while sitting there. The quiet morning was indeed nice and slow. Without the noise of a doomscroll or messages buzzing, he felt a sense of peace he hadn’t in a long time. He didn’t even care if he couldn’t see your face throughout the breakfast.
When you finally placed the paper on the table, you smiled over at Jack, leaning in to plant a kiss to his cheek. “Thanks for letting me read your paper, honey. My apartment canceled the paper sub two weeks ago.”
And if Jack Abbot started hoarding his newspapers for the next time you slept over just to see you in your cute oversized glasses wearing just his shirt during breakfast? That was between him and the kid who threw the paper at his door at 6 a.m.
_______________________
Now, the morning paper had been one thing, but Jack seeing you pull out a flip phone of all things was another. He couldn’t possibly comprehend the hot pink bedazzled thing you took from your scrub pocket and held between your fingers. Hell, he didn’t even know the last time he used a flip phone.
And he guessed he wasn’t the only one to noticed since Trinity stopped a few steps away and gawfed loudly, causing you to look up at her.
“What?” you asked. “Never seen one of these?”
Trinity rolled her eyes. “Only in movies that got released in like 2000-something. Why are you using that?”
You sighed rather loudly. “My iPhone fell in a puddle, and I needed something quick and easy. This bad boy was less than two-hundred bucks at Walmart, and I had a few rhinestones hanging around and thought why not.”
The resident stepped closer and rounded your body, now peering over your shoulder. “How do you even type with that?”
“You just push the button until you get to the letter you want.” Jack watched you demonstrate. “And then send it off. See, not that hard. Rotary phones are kind of the same way—”
“Rotary phones?” Trinity giggled. “What are you, fifty-two?”
Jack caught the way you glanced at him.
“Nah, I’m sixty and some change.”
Trinity followed your eyes. “Hear that, Dr. Abbot? You got yourself a cougar.”
He chuckled softly and shook his head. “Basically a cradle robber at this point.”
The flip phone shut with a click before it disappeared back into your pocket, and for some reason, Jack was sad to see it go. Not that he was happy your iPhone was broken (he was already planning to upgrade it for you), but seeing you with something so simple and personalized, it was almost healing to his soul in a way.
His late wife had had a flip phone.
It wasn’t sparkle-ified like yours, quite the opposite actually. He remembered the black, scratchy feeling of the plastic whenever he needed to use it. If he thought long about it, he would remember that the same phone is sitting dead in his bedside drawer. The phone that was now in your pocket must have been a sign for something.
When Trinity walked away, he took the opportunity to side up next to you, arm brushing yours in a soft, controlled motion. “Am I going to have to ask you for your number again?” he teased.
You scrunched your face in mock contemplation. “Shouldn’t it be the other way around since I robbed your cradle?”
His arm raised and wrapped around your shoulder tightly, bringing you into his side. “My favorite cougar. What’s next? Am I going to be your sugar baby?”
“Ew, Jack!” you squealed. “Not when you practically beg me to use your credit card all the time.”
“What can I say, baby. I like taking care of my girl.”
_______________________
In the middle of a massive cyber-attack after getting shot at was not the time for Jack to be so endeared by you to the point he wanted to squeeze you like one of those squishy dogs where the eyes pop out of socket.
He handled the newspaper well, the flip phone even better (he thinks). However, nothing—and he really means nothing could have prepared him for the utter glee on your face when Dana hauled a fax machine out of nowhere.
The machine had made a booting up noise, to which the newest shadowing-nurse Emma had questioned what it was.
Dana, in all her spare sarcasm and patience, responded with, “UFO landed. Aliens are invading,” as she placed a paper into the slot.
Jack had pointed at it with a large smirk. “That is a fax machine.”
Joy, one of Robby’s new daytime residents, peered over it at like it personally offended her. “They still make those?”
You giggled slightly. “I love fax machines.”
Jack had barely heard you say that over the chaos of everything, but he still turned toward you with a questioning look. “When on earth did you learn to run a fax machine?”
“Probably around the same time you were still writing charts by feathered quill and candle light.”
That earned a snort from every person born before 1990 in the room. Even Robby looked surprised by the quip that had flown out of your mouth. Jack at least looked a bit stunned before he shook it off.
“Careful, dear. I think I just heard your newspaper quiver.”
“And I think I just heard your heated blanket frizz out.”
Joy blinked over at you before looking at Jack. “I like her.”
By the time Jack glanced over at you, you were already moving to help Dana run the fax machine, your hands carefully placing papers in the top to run through. He couldn’t help the smile that formed across his face.
“Yeah, me too.”
_______________________
Some days, life was just hard.
Jack knew that better than most. His shift had been filled with loss after loss after loss to the point he wanted to leave halfway through just to catch a break. Thankfully by sunrise, the Pitt wasn’t his problem anymore, but then his mind remembered that Robby was still on sabbatical, and his mood dropped even further.
However, the moment he stepped inside and the smell of a plethora of baked goods hit his nose, he almost melted right then and there at the threshold. He paused, taking in the sight of his crutches that definitely were by the bed he left last night. You must have moved them for him with some supernatural ability to sense that he’d want his prosthesis off immediately. He couldn’t even hold in the groan that rumbled through his chest the minute his stump was free to hang in the air.
“Jack?” you called out.
“Yeah, baby,” he grunted. “It’s me.”
His crutched clicked against the flooring in rhythmic sounds. The closer he got to the kitchen, the sweeter the smell got. His hazel eyes widened at the sight of his counter. Small loaves, cookies, and even a pie rested against the granite. He wondered how early you’d been up, because one glance to the clock on the oven told him it wasn’t even 8 a.m. yet.
“What’s all this?” he asked, crutching closer to you.
You gently smiled and wrapped your arms around his middle, not caring that he still smelled like hospital and sweat. “Woke up antsy. Needed to get my mind off stuff.”
Jack carefully leaned his crutches against the counter and held you close. “Wanna talk about it?”
A sigh pushed through your lungs. “My grandpa died around this time a few years ago, and I always miss him a lot.” You sniffed quietly. “He practically raised me. Guess he’s the influence as to why I do a bunch of old people stuff.”
He stayed quiet while you talked, absorbing every word carefully.
“He always drank his coffee black; said the frou-frou stuff wasn’t necessary when you knew how to make a good cup of joe.” You laughed softly, the sound full of fondness. “He never knew how to use a smart phone, and I’d always want to play with the buttons on his.” Your cheek pressed into Jack’s chest so hard you could feel his heartbeat against your skin. “Fax machine too. Could never get a computer to work, so I started faxing things over when I wanted to talk to him, especially when it got really bad, and he couldn’t move much.”
Jack felt your shoulders raise just a bit before falling back down.
“I miss him a lot.”
Tears pricked your eyes when he kissed your forehead before leaning down to press one to your lips. When he pulled back, you were startled to see tears in his own eyes.
“He sounds like a good man,” he whispered. “And I am so glad for the little things that you do.”
The next sound out of your mouth sounded like a watery chuckle. “Yeah? You don’t care that I act like I’m thirty years older than I actually am?”
Jack shook his head. “Just means you got an old soul, sweetheart. And there’s nothing wrong with that.” He hugged you tighter. “Absolutely nothing.”
short | fluff | smut | “wiping my drink after him”
synopsis: you try a trend on jason by wiping your bottle after he takes a sip. clearly he doesn’t appreciate it.
a/n: was supposed to be fluff but i’m freaked out sorry
it’s nearly 10pm when jason comes home from patrol. he had planned to get here earlier and switched his shift with dick all because you told him you finished work.
without even asking if you wanted him to do so, he just did it.
“baby?” he calls out as he shuts the front door.
you’re sitting on your bed, practically buzzing as you’d just been scrolling on tiktok and saw a trend you just had to try on him.
“i’m in here jay,” you reply from your bed, fingers idle on the screen as you quickly place it on the nightstand.
enough to capture the both of you.
heavy footsteps approach the room and he opens the door with sweat wicking his brow. he gives a low hum as he takes on the sight of engulfed in just one of his shirts, a habit you’d taken when you missed him and wanted him home. curled up in your comforter with just your torso peaking out, jason plops right on top of you. no care in his sweat on your skin now of his weight resting on you entirely. you giggle as you run your fingers through his hair.
“don’t you think you should, i don’t know, shower before you come into bed?” no real annoyance behind your words.
he nuzzles even closer to you, shakes his head in the crook of your neck. almost like he’s motorboating your neck.
“nah, i’ll wash the sheets in the morning. they’ll need it after i’m done with you.”
the heat reaches your face and a fluttery feeling sits low in your stomach. he always knew how to throw the words back at you. but alas, the show must go on. you stroke his hair back once more, cupping his face with both hands to kiss his sweet face. jason melts into it immediately, but he shrugs like he were shy from this attention. when you pull away, a piece of him was disappointed.
“you hungry?” you ask him. “i was gonna make something to eat.”
he shakes his head, “don’t worry about it. i came home to take care of you. i’ll cook.”
you raise a brow as you reach for your water bottle, ready to play in his face. “take care of me? i’m a grown adult babe.”
he watches as you lift the bottle to your lips, his eyes trained hard on how they part and press against it. taking in how your throat swallows down the water and he gulps in anticipation as though he was drinking it too. his lips part as he leans in to kiss you again. though this time, you bring the bottle between you and put it to his lips.
“you look dehydrated,” you say like it’s the easiest thing in the world. tilting your head slightly and watching the gears turn in his head. “have you been using the bottle i bought you?”
he sighs and nods, “yeah, but i like using yours better.”
sitting up enough to take the bottle and take a long sip. probably draining your ice cold water from how thirsty he was and didn’t even realize. he makes a sound of approval and hands it back to you when you do the unspeakable.
you take the bottle from him, lift your opposing hand and wipe it with your sleeve. jason is absolutely dumbstruck. his lips part in confusion as his brows furrow. he looks to you, then the bottle and then back to you again. he scoffs softly and then points at the bottle.
“the fuck was that?”
he’s blinking hard at you and waiting for a response. you just take a long sip and furrow your brows back.
“what do you mean jay? i’m drinking water?” feigning confusion.
“you just wiped me off of it i’m some freeloader, with germs and shit.”
you can’t control your laughter and shake your head at him. “i’m just wiping your spit off of it jason. it’s not a big deal.”
he knows you have never cared about germs with him before. besides, you live in gotham, and it’s hardly the cleanliest place to be living.
then he’s stammering, pointing between you and the bottle again. “but babe you just kissed me! how is that any different! wait, does my breath smell?” before he leans back and puts his hand in front of his mouth and breathes out to sniff his breath. “i didn’t smoke or anything and i brushed my teeth i swear.”
this only makes you laugh harder, pushing this chest and grasping tightly at he bottle in your hands. jason only seems to get even more confused. he sits up completely and watches you giggle to yourself, finding this entire thing amusing. jason however, does not.
with a loud scoff, he takes the water bottle from your hands and tongues at the mouth piece. he fully lets his tongue fall out of his mouth, licks it all around before pulling back and handing it to you. you grimace a little at the wet sheen on it.
“ew jay, what the hell.” holding the bottle like something toxic.
“take a sip.” he says with the most stern expression you’d ever seen on him.
oh, he was pissed.
you decide to play along longer and shake your head in defiance at him.
he blinks at you, “i’d let you spit in my mouth and you’re sitting here telling me you won’t drink from the same bottle as me?”
“no, not until i wash your slobber off of it.”
that’s when he huffs out like a kid throwing a tantrum and grabs the bottle from your hand, mumbling under his breath. you watch him with genuine confusion while he is the one to take another sip before grabbing your chin and pulling you closer.
he squeezes your cheeks until your lips part and spits the water directly into your mouth. you make a sound of surprise the sudden intrusion makes your eyes widen but you were definitely not opposed. you swallow it down immediately. he keeps his hold on your cheeks as he squints and a small smile begins to take form on his face.
“you’re liking this,” he states rather than asks.
the contagious smile takes home on your face as you stare back at him and nod. “it’s a prank.”
“ha,” he says flatly, “now can you lay back down please?”
sighing as you lay down for him, he immediately follows after you. weight resting directly over you like a weighted blanket that wouldn’t budge if you tried. when you squirm a little, he wraps his arms over yours so you’re bracketed between him and the mattress. then he really does give you some sloppy, wet kisses that leave a trail in its wake.
he’s mumbling lowly as he starts to tug on your shirt, pulling the fabric up and huffing like he’s still annoyed. kisses getting a little rougher as he starts to bite the flesh beneath it and knead it with his teeth. you can’t help but tilt back for him.
“slobber, huh? i’ll show you slobber.” murmuring against your skin enough to tickle. he pulls his head up to look at you while you’re still giggling, “okay jokes over. was gonna do all the work but—”
jason lifts you from beneath him and places you firm onto his lap. hand tight in your hip as you straddle him and he settles his back on the pillows. he clears his throat and something behind his light eyes darken enough to tell you you were really in for it now. the thick bulge beneath you was unmistakable. you open your mouth in a gasp and say his name.
“there’s no way that turned you on.” making the horrible mistake of letting a giggle out again.
he breathes out of his nose and pinches your side to make you jolt. groaning like he’s not the cause of you shifting around and tightening his hold on you so you’d stop moving.
“i spat in your mouth. of course i’m hard.” he sighs as his fingers slide across the waistband of your underwear and tug them just to let them snap. you jolt again but he doesn’t stop you from moving or say anything about the desperate sound you make at the friction.
instead, jason smiles a little harder, “go ahead then.”
guiding your hips back and forth until your breath caught in your throat and you grip his shoulders for dear life. you breathe out his name again but it’s barely a whisper.
he tsks and bucks up into you, dragging his hard length against your clothed core. hips with a mind of its own as you chase your own release, dragging your hands down his chest and pushing him further into the mattress. you’re already a mess, panting heavily and moving desperately.
dangerously close and he’s just grinning like he’s won.
one of his hands come up to the nape of your neck and pulls you down towards him, whispering lowly in your ear.
“there you go ma, take what’s yours.”
movements getting sloppy and uneven while he’s keeping you folded against him. one strong palm kept your faces close and the other moved you in accordance what he knew got you there. he knew you were a goner before you even let go, gasping and stilling just for him to continue moving against you. even when you make a whimpering sound he continues and holds you hard against him.
you’re trying to catch your breath when he finally stops and kisses the side of your face sloppily again. his hands rubbing up and down your back like he’s soothing you. it feels like you’re purring against him as you come back to yourself. but this time, he’s the one laughing while he whispers in your ear like a coo.
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there’s 1000 of you in my little orbit. holy shit? that’s wild to me, especially considering that many people are reading my silly little stories. thank you, angels. kissing you all 🩷🌸
Summary: You dislike the false glamour of politics, but your husband Bucky is there to shield and steer you through.
Tags/Warnings: songfic, established marriage, fluffy fluff FLUFF, no use of y/n, some pet names for reader, mentions of reader performing charity
Word count: 900
Listening: You Won’t Feel A Thing by The Script 🎵
Masterlist • AO3
Your pre-gala pep talk is the most ridiculous thing in your life, and yet even as you shook from nerves you lapped it up like a cat with fine cream.
“It’s a battlefield out there,” he was saying, voice easily carrying from the living room where he adjusted his tie for the twentieth time. “And the war is raging, sweetheart.”
You hum in response, still in the bathroom, necklace finally behaving and sitting flat against your skin.
“I’ll be on your six the whole time.” Bucky was still talking, cufflinks secured and pocket square perfectly plumped. “An undivided front. We’re gonna be ruthless.”
“You are not helping my nerves,” you call back, losing the fight with the delicate clasp of your earring.
“Then I’ll tell you this. I got you. You’ll be on my arm, right beside me, all night. My beautiful wife.”
You step out from your quarters into the living room, anxiously smoothing the silk of your gown, eyes seeking his for approval.
The way his gaze raked down your body felt like he’d touched you with fire.
He stepped forward to take your hand, delighting you with a small spin as he took in the gown that glittered like fine jewels against your skin.
“Look at my girl. My best girl. You think I’m letting you out of my sight dressed like that?”
In the limo to the event you had to smack away his wandering hands a few times, and you found you were almost thankful marrying Bucky had given you plenty of practice at reapplying your kiss-smudged lipstick in the dark. A swipe of your thumb across his lips cleaned up most of what transferred, but the gentle touch of his tongue and that wicked glint in his eyes left you wondering why you bothered.
You had to fix yourself once more before arriving.
Inside, under the glittering lights of the gala and all the eyes on you, Bucky felt the way your hand grew clammy held in his. So he took your hand, wound it around his jacketed vibranium arm, naturally pulling you closer. He covered your hand with his and smiled reassuringly when you glanced up. “I’ve got you,” he murmured, and swept you into the battlefield of politics and fake smiles.
On Bucky’s arm as he circulated correctly, speaking to all the right people, you felt your fears slip away. He introduced you to every single person, talked openly of your work, warm pride colouring his voice as he gave you space to describe the grassroots efforts you fought for every day. And though they all smiled indulgently at your embarrassment and nodded politely as you spoke, he only had eyes for you.
“You do good work, baby. Let me show y’off a bit.”
You slap your hand against his chest, feigning indignation, but a photographer captures the moment you melt back into a smile and Bucky raised your hand to brush his lips across your knuckles. A beautiful, quiet shot for tomorrow’s news.
Later, when he’s at the podium giving a brief speech, your eyes mist over and you giggle with the crowd at his honest words. You’re so, so very proud of your Congressman too.
“I’ve been shot full of holes. I’ve been laughed at, been the butt of a joke or two,” he’s saying with a bashful half-smile. “Tried to keep my head up for all I’m worth. But taking the hard knocks of life is what it takes to make a difference.”
Back to it amongst the people and mingling, you break away from Bucky with a kiss to his cheek to visit the bathroom.
Leaving him with some snot-headed man who didn’t have the minimum required brain cells for congress.
“Fine piece of candy you have on your arm tonight, Barnes. Where’d you dig her up from?”
Bucky took a sip, his smug smile flashing even as the tic in his jaw jumped with irritation.
“Like I’d share such a find with you, Ralph.”
He spied you reenter the room, gaze scanning briefly before meeting his eyes with a smile and making your way back to his side.
Meanwhile Ralph’s guffaw showed he clearly didn’t catch the warning in Bucky’s tone.
“Share her? Imagine that little thing pinned between—“
“Speak of my wife with the respect and dignity she deserves.”
The stupid man’s face scrunched up. “They’re cute with their little charities and fundraisers, right? Riding the coattails of our successes with some pretty, empty words and no effort.”
You reached them. The sweet oh your lips formed had his heart drop to his stomach. Your perfect smile faltered. You’d heard.
“My wife,” Bucky bit out, voice like steel, “does the legwork. The hours. She’s the one hands-on in the women’s shelters your bill can’t seem to find the funding for.”
“Now, see here, Barnes—“
He forcibly took the other man’s hand in both of his, vibranium and flesh grip crushing so hard Ralph wouldn’t wank straight for a month. Bucky was all smiles over the handshake, picture perfect from the outside, but his deadly tone could not be mistaken. “Speak ill of my wife again and it’s the last thing you’ll do.”
You wait until he took your arm and guided you away before chiding him.
“Bucky,” you murmur, smile plastered in place but your eyes pools of worry. “You shouldn’t have done that. That’s going to cost you.”
“I’ll take it on the chin,” he mumbled, brushing his lips against your temple, “for you.”
a/n ! this was the first piece of writing I had posted in 13 years … madness
[𝝑𝑒] :: clinging to true form!sukuna ‘til he gets sick of it :: tags. concubine!reader. fluff. size diff. reader gets called ‘girl, brat’
“y’re annoying me, girl,” sukuna grumbles as he walks to the courtyard. you had magically appeared behind him the moment he stepped out of his room to get some fresh air.
you flash him an apologetic smile, “i’m sorry, my lord.”
you’re not actually sorry, sukuna knows, though he doesn’t comment on it. it’s been like this ever since a week or two ago. he can’t recall why you’re suddenly so much more affectionate.
he doesn’t wait for you, however, and takes big strides towards the courtyard. if your little legs can’t keep up, that isn’t his problem.
you frown and take on the challenge. you increase your pace and nearly start rushing after him. you lift your kimono to make sure you won’t trip over the fabric.
sukuna can’t believe that a human like you dares to even be in his presence for so long. he didn’t call for you, so why are you adamant on staying with him?
he concludes that something must be up, “what’d you want from me?”
there hangs a silence between you two afterwards. sukuna’s slow yet heavy footsteps reverberate through the hallway, followed by your quick and light ones.
you pout as you notice that the king of curses isn’t even sparing you a glance, “nothing at all. i just like to be with you.”
you add the latter as an afterthought. you don’t expect sukuna to react to that, so you continue to trail behind him into the courtyard.
“tch,” you hear him scoff in annoyance. you’re sure he doesn’t mean any actual harm by that, so you don’t take it personally.
sukuna eventually sits down on the engawa, where the servants have placed the comfy zabuton cushions. there’s always one for you as well—right next to sukuna’s. it’s become a habit for the maids to include you in sukuna’s daily routines, because you’re always with him.
you eye your own cushion, though don’t make an effort to actually sit down on it. sukuna stares ahead, not bothered to notice you at the moment. you look down at his lap, recalling just how perfectly you can fit on it.
you don’t waste any more time and plop down on his thick thighs, your back against his chest. sukuna’s brow twitches at the sudden contact. his bottom pair of eyes look down at you whilst the upper ones keep looking ahead aimlessly.
“get off me,” the king of curses commands through a low tone.
sukuna doesn’t push you off, however. that alone tells you enough; he’s tolerating your behaviour. as per usual. or perhaps he secretly likes your proximity.
you shall never know which of the two it actually is.
“nooooooo,” you exaggerate with a whine. you don’t want to.
you wrap both of your arms around one of sukuna’s—clinging onto him like your life depends on it. he simply responds by sighing.
you know sukuna’s able to grab you by the collar and force you to sit down on the cushion beside him, but he doesn’t. your heart flutters every time he shows tolerance to your clingy behavior. it means that maybe—just maybe—he’s opening up to the idea of being more affectionate with you.
“such a fuckin’ brat,” sukuna puts one hand on your waist, the others supporting his weight on the engawa. he grumbles, but there are clear signs of him relaxing with you in his presence.
you chuckle at the realisation and swing your legs in excitement. sukuna unexpectedly bites your ear in response to your increased activity on his lap, “stay still or i’ll kick you off.”
you let out a small whimper as you feel his fangs gently sick into your earlobe. you jolt back and rub the skin with your hand, looking up at sukuna with a playful frown before teasing him back.
you roll your eyes and answer him with a firm yet mocking, “sir yes, sir!”
sukuna clicks his tongue at your tease. you answer him like he’s some general in the military. that’s not the kind of relationship he has with you—it’s more than that. even though he knows you’re joking, he dislikes it when you call him anything other than ‘my lord’, ‘my king’, or just his name.
he finds great satisfaction in the way you refer to him as such. you’re the only one who can make sukuna grin each time you remind him of his status and the power he has over you.
the power dynamic; it’s addictive.
he needs more of it.
sukuna reaches out to grab your face with one hand, but you’re quick to pull your head back the moment you see that intimidatingly big hand coming down onto your vision.
you clear your throat and apologise, “i mean—yes, my lord.”
the king of curses hums in content. that title is exactly what he had been looking for.
he retracts his hand and settles it back down on your waist, patting your sides twice to show his satisfaction with your obedience.
you stop squirming around in his lap and simply lay back down in his arms. you close your eyes and nearly fall asleep because of the comfortable atmosphere. the slight breeze against your face is relaxing and perfectly compliments the warmth from sukuna’s body.
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— 𝜗𝜚⋆ your cat can’t read the room and trots in anyway because she’s hungry.
the room smells of sweat, sex and love. you don’t know how many times he’s made you come, lost count after the 3rd time. all you can really think about is the weight of his body caging yours, pushing you both deeper into the mattress, the sheets wrap loosely around his legs, yours tight around his waist, locked and refusing to let up.
the sounds of skin slapping echoed the room, rang through your ears loudly, but his pace didn’t falter, if anything it got faster then slowed just enough to have you whining in frustration. his fists, slightly bawled, rest on either side of your hips.
“always feels good when you’re wrapped around my cock, sweetheart,” he murmurs, voice raspy and slightly broken, a small chuckle vibrates against your neck when your hand flies up, grabbing the back of his arm tightly. “that’s it, hold onto me, i ain’t going anywhere and neither are you, babygirl.”
true to his word, he doesn’t let you go anywhere, keeps his hard chest practically pinned down against yours, thrusts slow and rhythmic. your nails sink into this skin of his arms deeper each time he slides back in, cock stretching you out perfectly. “just like that,” you whine, hands slipping from his arms to his sides, nails raking up and down the skin there before making their way back to his arms; where you cling tighter. “love you.” you murmur softly into his shoulder when he presses his face deeper into the crook of your neck.
“love you, honey,” he pants, grinding his hips against yours slowly to the point your lips part in a silent moan and the arch of your back has your tits pressing harder to hist chest. an action he welcomes happily because he’s groaning and growling into the small space of your neck, fisting at the sheets when your cunt clenches around his cock. “my angel, could stay like this forever, so warm, wanna stay buried in you for the rest of my life.”
neither of you hear the slight creaking sound of the door at first, completely absorbed in each other too much to care, too in tune with meeting each others thrusts to feel the subtle chill soaking in and then suddenly when it’s only the soft sounds of both your moans, a loud meow rips through the entire room.
his body stills completely at the sound, slowly lifts his head from your neck, you see his hooded first but you can also see the hint of confusion lingering beneath as he looks down at you. “the hell?” he mutters hoarsley, turning his head so slow you’d think he’s broken.
sitting completely still in the bedroom doorway is your cat, tail swishing behind her with a slowness that only happens with two things. one, she’s doing it to spite you both. or two, she’s hungry and demands all the attention in the world. “you’ve got to be kidding me,” he scoffs, albiet no anger or annoyance behind his words.
your cat stares, almost like she knows what she’s ruining and does it all over again. meow!
his eyes narrow at the second meow, and his hands finally move from beside your hips to your stomach, dragging them down slowly before sighing in defeat. “okay, she’s not kidding.”
“no, she isn’t.”
“i fed her before we even came in here!” he huffs but makes no effort to move. hell, he hasn’t even made a single move to pull out of you either.
“that was before, and now she’s hungry again, so go on,” you pause, grinning up at him smugly. “time to feed your daughter, daddy.” you teased, giggling with a choked gasp at the way his cock twitches inside you. “oh?”
his eyes widen slightly at your seductive tone and shakes his head quickly “nope, no, we aren’t doing this. m’gonna go feed her like the royal diva pain demands.”
your giggle doesn’t last long, a warm melodic sound turns into a whine when he’s pulling his cock out slowly with a wet pop! your walls flutter around nothing while your eyes, despite being hooded and dazed, followed him. lingered on the firm muscle of his ass when he slipped off the bed, before widening, a shy smile on your face, at the sight of his cock despite seeing it so many times. still hard, angry red, slick with your wetness.
“nothing you haven’t seen before, sweetheart,” he catches that look on your face while tugging on a pair of boxers, the fabric rubbing against him causes him to hiss. “i’ll be back soon, honey, don’t miss me too much.”
by the time he slipped out of the door, leaving you alone, aside from the muttered words coming from him in the kitchen, you slumped back down onto the bed, chest still heaving but you didn’t move to run after him. your thighs still tingled, twitched at the reminder of him being inside of you not that long ago.
sighing softly, you turned onto your side, curling up and smiling to yourself into the pillow. the sounds of his muttering and sighs getting louder. and you can’t help the laughter that leaves your lips at his sudden panicked shout.
“no! stop! we use the litterbox not the floor, oh my god! she’s gonna hate me, use the litterbox please!, honey, the litterbox, right there! oh you hate me so much that you want her to hate me too huh?”
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