#HE'S SO BABY.... HE'S TRYING....... LEAVE HIM ALONE

[artemisiasmuse]

rafe cameron x sweet virgin!reader

she told you she celibate but she told me I can nail her shit

cw: mdni 18+, virgin!reader but has some other experience, lowkey a freak tho, toxic rafe, corruption kink : >, size kink, first times, rafe goes a lil crazy, sweetie pie reader x insane yandere bf rafe is lowkey my favorite trope

a/n: happy valentine’s day my loves <3 i didn’t read this over and i’m so sorry if there’s hella mistakes i will fix it later! this may or not be self-insert yes even that part

the trouble all began with sarah cameron and her big mouth. well really both of you were to blame, but you’d think she would be quieter when her older brother was lurking around. you were older than her by a few years, closer to his age than hers, not that it mattered though, rafe treated you like you were practically wheezie’s age. you didn’t let it sting you any more you had long gotten over trying to be seen as a woman in rafe cameron’s eyes. or maybe you just stopped watching him, he’s always noticed you but you felt out reach, until now. when he overhears his sister’s words he almost breaks the glass of water he’s holding.

“a virgin at 19 looking like you do is insane” sarah looked you up and down as you tried on the dress you’d bought together at the mall. you got shy at her words, you knew she wasn’t judging you but instead genuinely in disbelief that men weren’t throwing themselves at you. you had long mastered the art of looking unapproachable and uninterested after too many bad experiences.

“stoppp is it so hard to believe, you know how bad it’s been for me?” he really hopes no one sees him leaning against the wall next to his sister’s door, he’d look like such a weirdo. wheezie would never let him live this down, she’d barely held back on letting his little crush slip before. if sarah ever found out he’d be in another hell.

“fuck you’re right, if they can’t make you come what’s the point?” rafe winced at his sister’s words, willing away the temptation to gag. he was trying to focus on the fact that no guy had made you come before instead.

“you’re awful, but i’m done with men for a long time. im gonna focus on college and not waste time on them.” he relished in the twisted feeling that no one could touch you, even if the losers before had a chance they clearly couldn’t cut it.

“righttt being in a dorm filled with horny guys is gonna make that easier.” sarah deadpanned and you shoved her, seeing her point. you hadn’t thought about it like that.

“okay leave me alone i’ve been successful so far”

“oh my god speak of the devil, john b’s calling me over, can you cover for me? i’ll be back in like two hours max, promise.” you were a little disappointed she was leaving you but you knew how difficult it was for her to see him without someone covering for her. you nodded and pulled out your phone.

“fine but i’m ordering pizza,” rafe didn’t know if he should be terrified or elated that you two would be home alone for two hours. why did it have to be today that the rest of his family fucked off? was this divine intervention?

“save me a slice!” rafe could hear his sister rustling around, getting ready to go, so he did the same.

“you’re gonna be too busy eating di-“ rafe promptly ran off at that. he’d heard enough, his imagination would run wild with this new information.

it was half an hour later when, like clockwork, rafe made sure to be near the front door for the pizza delivery. he paid and tipped the guy, while you were making your way down at the sound of the doorbell. he hurries back upstairs, nearly running into you on the stairs. your eyes trace his pretty features and then land on the box in his hands, shock and horror cascading your face. rafe can’t believe that you look so good even now, you’re wearing a crop top with seemingly no bra underneath and high waisted sweatpants. to him you look like a model.

“hey! that’s my pizza” rafe laughs and continues up the stairs, you turn on your heel and follow him up. you’re kinda hangry and your pizza being held hostage is not helping your mood.

“i just paid for it so i don’t think so.” you both reach the top of the stairs but rafe isn’t stopping, he’s going to his room instead. this won’t do, he’ll lock the door and slam it in your face, you quickly move to stand in front of him blocking the path to his doorway. rafe thinks it’s cute that you think that would stop him, he feels a bit stir crazy over how small you look gazing up at him

“i’ll pay you back!” your hands shoot up against the doorframe, blocking entry even further. he wants to tease you a bit more but the idea of sharing a pizza in his room is way more tempting.

“nah it’s fine just let me have some.” you release your blockade and let him move past you, still with his-your pizza in his hold, following him mindlessly. if you were less hungry you would’ve realized eating pizza with your longtime crush and best friend’s brother in his room sitting on his bed was in fact not a great idea. but that fleeting concern is out the window when he opens the box and you climb onto his bed like it’s second nature. rafe does his best to stay concentrated on the present, it’s difficult when your shirt rides up and a sliver of your stomach is displayed, it looks so soft and untouched and he really isn’t hungry for pizza, he never was.

“i was gonna offer anyways for the record.” you say it while picking up a slice and rafe mirrors your action, laughing at your tone.

“yeah sure you were princess,” you ignore the way his voice sounds, the way he says your name, the way his room smells like him and it’s making your head spin.

rafe watches you eat transfixed when you lick the tips of your fingers, he can’t believe that he’s struggling to control himself over pizza but your words are ringing in his head.

“rafe do you have any napkins?” you hold up your greasy fingers and he nods his head dazedly, getting up to grab some for you and taking the pizza box off his bed with him. you move to get off then, looking around his room, you knew he wouldn’t appreciate if you snooped through his things so you just look at the pictures on the wall, the books he has. rafe finds you standing near his desk when he comes back, wordlessly handing you the napkins.

“i always forget you have a motorcycle.” your head motions towards the helmet resting on the surface of his desk.

“i don’t use it as much now.” he leaned back against the footboard of his bed, arms crossed against his chest as he watched you look at his stuff. he couldn’t figure out why you were still in his room, were you that curious?

“can i ride it? i’ve always wanted to try.” yeah rafe might just pass out now. you don’t even know what you’re doing to him, head cocked to the side looking at him so innocently he can barely hold back much longer.

“sure but i gotta teach you the basics so you don’t crash.” rafe is proud of himself for even stringing a sentence together in response. you notice a slight flush to his cheeks and ears.

“okay that’s fair.” you turn towards him, mirroring his form and leaning back against his desk. there’s a few feet between you but rafe thinks it would be so easy to lift you onto the mahogany and kiss you until you can’t breathe. his shorts feel so restrictive and he’s grateful he’s wearing black. he can’t hold back any longer, he has to know.

"is it true?" the words come out rushed, unsure of if they should even be said in the first place. but rafe’s not a quitter and he doesn’t shy away from anything really, even if the past few hours feel like a dream he would have in middle school.

"is what true?" your head does that thing again like a puppy and he nearly keels over, you’re too adorable for your own good. his gaze flits away for a second, he has to commit. your trusting expression and your airy tone make it all the more hard.

"no guy's made you come before?" you blink in shock twice before covering your face with your hands. this must be the most embarrassing moment of your life.

"ugh you heard that?"

"yeah you guys aren't exactly quiet" you might have to kill sarah cameron in her sleep, if she even comes back that is. you don’t know why you answer him, you could have just ran away but the magnetic pull of rafe cameron coaxes you to answer.

"yeah it's true" you sound defeated and rafe has to hold back a snicker, he watches you peer through your fingers at him, watching his expression.

"well i can rectify that..you know for the sake of mankind and all" there’s a smirk on his lips as he says the words that will haunt you forever. you’re sure he’s just messing with you and you huff a breath of disbelief. did he know about your little crush? you’d been hiding it so well for the past few years!

"don't tease me, rafe" you step away from his desk, moving to leave his room. even if it was just the two of you in the house you’d much rather sit in sarah’s room or watch the tv than be ridiculed.

"i'm not, it'd be a shame if a pretty girl like you gave up on men, especially for me." it’s almost as if someone dumped a bucket of cold water on your head when rafe cameron speaks. pretty girl the first time he’s called you anything that might suggest you’re not just his sister’s friend. the world spins on its axis and you try to grasp onto his words, try to understand that he might be genuine but you can’t. there’s still that voice of doubt telling you he’s just messing with you. rafe watches your expression go from shock to disappointment, you don’t believe him. he supposes it’s not that believable when he’s been purposefully avoiding you for a while. you must think he’s just messing with you, but he’s dead serious. he’ll just have to prove it.

“whatever rafe i don’t have time for your games.” you mumble it and leave his room, slamming the door a bit harder than you intended. the next few hours are torture. rafe cameron planted an insidious weed in your mind and it’s growing exponentially.

of course it’s not the first time you’ve imagined it, you’d often thought about what his long thick fingers would feel like. or how his biceps would feel under your hands if you held onto them for support. you’d fantasized about every part of him, even the tip of his nose. so the idea that it might just be within your reach had you spiraling. you took a cold shower, not that it helped, your underwear was still soaked after. no guy you’d been with had made you so wet, let alone before even touching you. it was as if the universe was testing you. a sick thrum in your body had found its way into your bones, vibrating with need and you paced in your best friend’s room thinking over all the consequences.

when you’d reached the conclusion that even if he was sincere it was still a bad idea, your phone pinged. a text from sarah that read: “i’m gonna be staying the night here, if you’re already asleep i’ll see you in the morning 🤍” with all your internal turmoil you hadn’t realized it was past the two hours she’d said. she would be out all night. you and rafe were home alone, all night. you swallowed down the lump in your throat, your heart pounding your chest. your feet were moving faster than your head, the pitter patter of your footsteps almost as fast as your heartbeat, and before you knew it you were in front of his door. you hesitated for a second breathing in deep once before knocking, the light was still on so you knew he was awake.

“yeah?” rafe did his best to hide the satisfaction he felt seeing you twitchy and shy in front of his door. you swallowed down again, looking up at him with as much confidence as you could. there was a few seconds of silence, he gave you the time you needed, looking down at you with bright inviting eyes.

“is your offer still on the table?” his face split into a grin, moving aside to let you in like you’d done before and with no hesitation you pushed past him. even the small graze of your shoulder against him set his skin ablaze. he was going to lose his mind.

“‘doesn’t really have an expiration date.” your mind was blanking at his every advance, you tried not to think about his words, you couldn’t afford to fall deeper for him.

“just don’t like tell anyone about this?” you murmured, watching him close the door behind you two and getting a bit nervous. if sarah found out you’d be in for hell. losing your virginity to your best friend’s brother wasn’t exactly a great conversation to have.

“i’m not topper don’t worry.” you believed him, rafe despite his other faults, was always respectful.

“can i kiss you?” you nodded fervently, rafe held back a laugh at your enthusiasm. he walked up to you slowly as if giving you the chance to run and slid his hands from his hips to the curve of your waist. you stood on your tiptoes, your arms going around his neck and rafe couldn’t believe this was real. maybe if he pretended it was a dream he wouldn’t be so nervous. he’d have to do just that. one of his hands cupped your face, thumb stroking along your cheekbone and your eyelashes fluttered closed at the touch. he pressed a tentative kiss to your lips.

his lips felt soft and you breathed out in relief after, as if some sort of spell was lifted. rafe kissed you again, this time letting himself breathe you in. you felt so small and delicate in his hold, he wanted to take his time with you. you had other ideas. kissing rafe cameron felt even better than you’d imagined, when he pulled back you surged forward this time, biting his lower lip making him groan into your mouth. another chill of desire wracked your body at the sound and you tested the waters by licking the seem of his lips. rafe pulled you even closer and bent down to kiss you deeper. his mouth opened and his tongue met yours. you tasted so good to him he couldn’t stop himself from sucking on your tongue slightly, making you whine in his hold. the sound flipped a switch in his mind, he wanted more of the sound, he needed to hear you say his name in that airy desperate sound again. a string of saliva connected your lips and snapped off in the middle, your breathing was heavy and his was too. you caught your breath all the while looking up at him, he held your gaze. the furrow of your brows grew deeper the longer you looked.

“we don’t have to do anything else.” him asking for consent again drew in another crushing wave of arousal, you were a lost cause. okay maybe your standards were in hell. even his cologne was better than any other guy, something woodsy and heavy, mature, not like the shitty ones you’d had to smell before.

“no-no i want to,” he’d have to ask you later why you looked so mad after kissing him, right now he had too much else to do. you could only watch as he lifted you by the grip on your waist, your legs going around his hips in fear of falling. he’d done it so casually you couldn’t process it in time. rafe set you down gently on his mattress, his weight pressed into you and your legs tightened around him. he kissed you again, already missing the taste of your lips, and leaned back. you realized what he was about to do as he sat back on his knees.

“no i-can you just come up here?” you felt far too shy for him to eat you out and although rafe respected your wishes he was a bit disappointed. he’d just have to make sure there was a next time. there were other ways to taste you anyways. he followed your lead, leaning back over you and kissing you again, tongue and teeth clashing together in need. one of his hands moved from your waist up and under the hem of your shirt, traveling up slowly until he reached the fat of your breast. the feeling of his fingers on your nipple jolted your body. usually you didn’t get anything out of a guy touching your boobs but him you were arching into his touch, huffing into his mouth. rafe loved how sensitive you were, reacting to every touch of his. he massaged the tit in his hand, reveling in how you squirmed underneath him. if you kept moving you’d feel how painfully hard he was in his shorts.

after giving up on kissing you he peeled off your crop top, trailing kisses down your neck. he bit at the skin and sucked, surely littering your neck with hickies. you smelled so sweet to him and he couldn’t get enough, biting hard in the juncture between your neck and shoulder. you squeaked at the feeling, shocked at how pleasure blurred the lines of the pain you should be feeling. being marked by rafe was transcendental.

“look at you, so fucking pretty.” you met his gaze, his eyes raking down your chest and back to your face. the compliment made your head even cloudier, you’d let him do anything he wanted already, and it didn’t even scare you. his mouth trailed lower, biting at the tops of your breasts before latching onto your nipple and sucking, biting and laving over the sensitive nub with his tongue. you writhed under him, desperate for some friction between your legs. you huffed out a breath in frustration. he took his time bruising your chest with his marks. everyone should know who you belonged to. he leaned back to admire his work, his eyes finally meeting yours and seeing your waterline filled with unshed tears. god he was being so cruel, you just wanted to come and here he was doing as he pleased.

“rafe can i have your fingers please?” he was about to take pity on you anyway but the desperate sound of you begging was too delicious to give up. he looped his fingers through yours, hands intertwined against the silk sheets next to your shoulder.

“fuuckkk when you ask like that how can i say no?” his eyes nearly rolled back in his head from your voice, he might just come from it alone. “how d’ya want them?” he knew, of course he knew, he just wanted to hear you say it. your lips were swollen from his kisses and you still managed to look so innocent under him, he wanted to mark every inch of your body so no one could touch you again.

“you know!” you huffed out, a pout on your lips that he kissed away, you still looked at him with frustration. your underwear was practically sticking to you now, you felt so warm and uncomfortable between your legs, desperate for friction. you’d never felt like this before, completely wrecked with need, unable to think about anything besides addressing your desire.

“spell it out for me, i can’t think clearly right now.” he kissed under your ear coaxing you into submission, a purr curled through you at the feeling. his lips were featherlight against you, soft and adoring and you couldn’t remember why you were holding back.

“‘wan you to fuck me with them.” it was a small mumble, slipping past your lips but rafe caught it nevertheless. his free hand hooked into your pants and pulled them down, you kicked them off and let him settle back between your legs. at least being out of your pants gave your legs some reprieve but the cool air only illuminated how drenched your underwear was. rafe’s large hand skimmed past your breasts to your stomach and rested against your waistband. he looked to you for admission and you nodded your head. instead of dipping underneath the band he trailed downwards, over the flimsy material. the ghost of his touch near your clit had you jerking under him, your hands flying to his shoulders. two large fingers pressed against the fabric, right above your opening, his fingers felt moist and he clicked his tongue at the feeling.

“baby you soaked through your panties, whose got you so worked up?” you whined, a pretty throaty sound that you’d been holding in and he vowed to pull more from you. his fingers were skimming along your opening, teasing the fabric and not quite touching you. your legs wanted to close on his hand but your hips moved closer, trying to make him touch you.

“you!” you screamed out, eyes squeezed shut as he removed his hand completely. you’d start leaking through them if he didn’t do something soon.

“that’s right me, not those fucking losers, just me.” his free hand, closed around your chin making you open your eyes and meet his. he looked crazed, pupils blown and overshadowing the blue with hooded eyes and a satisfied grin curling his lips. when you met his gaze he finally dipped his fingers beneath the band and pressed his thumb against your clit. he found it with such ease your eyes rolled back into your skull, gasping at the feeling of finally being touched. “i got you baby,” your legs spread wider for him, pulling him into you as his fingers slid through your drooling folds all the while his thumb ground against you. his fingers were so much larger than yours you could feel him everywhere. he prodded your hole with his index finger, grunting at how tight you were. streams of arousal kept pouring out of you, you needed him to do something. you squirmed under him again and rafe acquiesced, shoving his finger in. you were so tight and warm around him, slippery and soft walls hugged him as he stretched you out with one finger alone. “f-fucking tight,” he was gonna start soiling his shorts from the way you felt around his finger alone. he fucked you slow and deep, feeling along your insides for your sensitivity. he knew as soon as he found it because you screamed his name, hands clutching his arms tightly.

“feels weird,” he let you get used to the feeling, his thumb grinding against your clit. you were already feeling close and he’d barely started.

“poor pussy probably never felt this good huh?” you whimpered at his words, he was being so filthy and usually it turned you off. nothing about rafe could do that at this point. you shook your head, affirming his suspicions and his middle finger circled your opening. he was gentler this time, moving his fingers in inch by inch until you stopped clamping down. the pressure of him stretching you wasn’t unbearable but you didn’t know how you’d ever take more than his fingers at this rate. he accurately hammered against that spot, out for blood, while his thumb circled your clit. you were dripping onto his hand, coating him with your juices and the squelch of his fingers fucking into you filled the room. the sounds were so obscene you tried blocking them out with your pathetic little whines but rafe was determined to hear your soppy cunt crying for him. it wasn’t long before you felt the encroaching of your release and he knew it he could feel it in the way you clenched around him and whined when his fingers pulled out completely. one more carress of the sensitive gummy spot inside you had you seeing white. your vision blurred as you shook in your release, holding his wrist so he’d stop his motions, shivers wracked your body as you came the hardest you ever had. your walls fluttered around him, more of your release dripping down your cunt and soaking the sheets below. he was sick enough to leave them like that for the night, you smelled so sweet and he bet you tasted even better.

his fingers dipped out of your underwear and your eyes opened to watch him, probably a mistake on your part because just the vision of rafe cameron licking his fingers clean and groaning at the taste made you ready to go again. his eyes rolled back in his head at the taste, his eyes ground shut at the sugary flavor coating his tongue and teeth. he really hoped you’d let him have more later because now that he’d had a taste he wanted the full meal. you shivered at the way he reacted, your whole body on high alert from your orgasm, but even as sensitive as you were you couldn’t help but be greedy.

“rafe, can we go further?” his heart might just give out, you look nervous even now after he’s already addicted. he moves back slightly, pulling his shirt over his head and your eyes are drawn to his chest.

“never thought you’d ask.” you’re not even trying to hide how you ogle him, seeing him at the beach is one thing but in front of you, when you can touch him is another. rafe watches you reach a hand out, slightly out of range and moves closer to you, letting you touch him. your smalls hands traverse the expanse of his shoulders, his pecs, and trace the outline of his abs. when they reach the tuft of hair above his waistband, rafe has to stop you. the tiny fleeting touches make him twitch in his pants. he moves your hand to rest against his shoulder, pulling your underwear all the way off and looking down at how he completely drowns your body out.

“fuckkk can’t believe im the lucky one who gets to break this little pussy in,” he kisses along your neck, hands squeezing your waist and marveling at how diminutive you feel. he can’t wait to be inside you, he wonders if you’ll even be able to take him.

“s-so dirty” his words are heating up your entire body and you’d feel embarrassed if you weren’t arching into him. rafe moves to pull down his shorts, waiting a beat before he does.

“you sure you want this?” while taking your virginity was something he could only dream about before he needed to be sure.

“yes i want it to be you, i trust you.” you say it as normally as you can.

“we can stop whenever you want, like i said ‘offer’s not gonna expire.” you hope you can take it up even after this, maybe not even once or twice. if he could make you feel like this why would you need anyone else? then he pulls his shorts off and you start to regret your decision.

“oh-is th-that gonna fit?” his cock sprung out and slapped against his stomach, long and thick and way too big for you. you could barely take his fingers this would never fit. it looked so angry white precum dribbling down stark against the flushed pink curling along the veins and curving with him to the right. you wouldn’t survive this.

“you’ll do your best right?” you nod enthusiastically, you wanted to take as much as you could. “good girl.” oh, you’d have to explore that later. you nearly moaned at him calling you that. rafe caught it though, he knew your reactions well by now. he lined it up over your stomach, seeing how far it would go and your eyes nearly bulged out of your head. your belly button was completely covered, not that it mattered he was halfway up your torso. rafe’s grip on your waist tightened, he’d ruin you for anyone else, stretch you out and mold you just for him. no one would feel as good as him and he nearly drooled at the sight.

despite how feral he felt, he made sure you were still wet enough for him to slip in, you were. his tip pressed against you, he let you drool onto him, juices swirling with his and making a sick plap plap plap sound as he tapped against you. he’s far wider than his fingers and you tried to relax. you motioned for him to come closer, his lips out of reach and you kissed him sweetly. when he could feel you relax he pushed in, instantly being shoved out. so tight he couldn’t even get the tip in. “fuuckkkk gonna have to marry you.” you don’t even process his words and he doesn’t really know he’s saying them out loud either. he tries again, pulling you slightly onto his length and you gasp at the stretch. you’re gripping him like a vice and it’s nearly uncomfortable but being inside you breaks something inside of him and he’s drooling into your mouth. you don’t even care you want more. “doin well angel-hah-taking me so well.”

the pain is an afterthought now, you want him to stretch you and fill you until you can’t breathe. you don’t know if you’ve wanted anything more in your life. so you do the unthinkable, you try moving down his length. rafe can’t be held responsible for his actions after that.

he gives into your silent plea, skewering you on his cock and pushing past your gooey rings of resistance until he’s halfway in. you held your breath the entire time as he curved into you, tip smearing precum along your walls as he molded you to him, his veins catching on your entrance and making you jolt at the feeling. you push at his chest, the pain making you scream his name as he lets you adjust. there’s tears trailing down your cheek that he licks away. he kisses you until the ache between your legs becomes distant, it’s salty and sloppy but it distracts you enough. rafe makes the mistake of looking down, sees the way you’re gaping for him and how it looks like he’s splitting you in half and he bottoms out. the snap of his hips against yours makes you moan, he’s filled you up now and you can feel him in your throat. you swear you feel him get bigger when you whine his name pathetically, his dick twitching inside you.

it’s too much and you try running from it, shoving up the length of the bed but rafe just pulls you back down. “t-too big hng can’t-“

“come on i thought you were-fuck-a big girl,” he groans into your ear, you shove against him once more and he slips out a few inches, just enough for you to relax. you can still feel him nestled against your cervix, he’s leaking into you and your thighs are coated in both of your arousal. you tap his shoulder for him to move again, pulling out until his tip is the only thing inside and then spearing all the way back in. the feeling makes you cross-eyed, his throbbing tip bumps along your sensitive spot until it nestles against you, as far high up as it can and you think you might be coming on every thrust because you’re so obscenely wet more slick just pours out of you every time. rafe knows it’s because there’s no space for anything but his cock and he can’t help but grin, watching your pussy engulf his length despite how small you are under him. every thrust sends your whole body upwards but his grip on you keeps you close, he’s almost fucking you back onto him.

“feels good hah,” you finally murmur into his neck, wrapping your legs around his hips so he can drill into you better. his thrusts are deep and slow, letting you get used to the feeling but you don’t think you like it like this. if he’s going to ruin you he might as well do it properly. “h-harder.” rafe moans your name at your request, his voice sounds so wrecked you clench down at the sound alone.

“turned this pussy into a slut, ‘couldn’t even take-hah-two fingers now look at you.” really he’s proud of you, proud that he made you like this. although he wants to tease you he can’t hold back much longer either and it’s your first time so he’s gonna be nice to you. rafe pulls out and slams back into you setting a faster rougher pace, your skin is slapping against each other and you think he might bruise your hips. your head is shoved up the length of his bed until it threatens to bump against the headboard, he puts his hand between you and the wood, his other hand holding onto the frame for support. your legs are being bent and pressed to the sides and the new angle makes him hit that spot with blaring accuracy. a sick ring of white forms at the base of his dick and his balls are slippery from your arousal. you still have a vice grip around him, something he won’t get used to but is definitely get addicted to. the room smells filthy and the sounds of you chanting his name combined with the squelch of your cunt is pornographic.

“gonna be a good girl and come around my cock?” your walls flutter at his words, like his permission has you ready to come. you come undone with one more thrust, your cunt is milking him as if coaxing him to come. “fuck fuck fuckkkk.” he pulls out just in time to come onto your stomach, shooting thick gooey ropes onto your soft skin. the white contrasts the blue and purple that is starting to bloom around your neck and tits.

you blearily watch it happen, disappointed he didn’t come inside, but warm and fuzzy from your release. there’s one thought nagging you though as you rest comfortably on his sticky soaked sheets. “it wasn’t a one time offer right?”

“no fucking way, i’m never letting you go.” rafe looks at you like you’re crazy, he’s ready to propose. there’s no way in hell he’s making this a one night stand. after all he’s broken you in, now it’s the fun part.

taglist: @ggraycelynn

[tfwbluu]

PAIRING — ni-ki + f!reader

WARNINGS — idol!ki, pillow humping, guided masturbation(?), pet names (doll, baby, etc), riding, ki’s big (as always tho), raw sex (stay safe!), sweet at the end but it goes back to spicy.

WORDCOUNT — 1.6K

NOTE — long time no post, here’s a little something for my ki girls~ going back to the roots :3 might be a bit rustic so don’t mind that plsjdks

Fuck, you were downright needy. It wasn’t necessarily your fault either—but it definitely was his.

Riki had been looking way too good lately, effortlessly charming, the kind of allure that left you restless and wanting. And despite your growing desperation to get your hands on him, his demanding idol schedule kept him away, leaving you a frustrated, aching mess.

Every text, every teasing phone call, every fleeting moment you managed to steal with him only made it worse. You needed him, badly.

Finally, you found yourself lying on your side, a pillow lodged between your thighs as you desperately rutted against the soft fabric. A breathy moan of relief escaped your lips, but it was fleeting—nowhere near enough.

It had been minutes since you started trying to ease the ache between your legs, the rustle of bedsheets and your soft whimpers filling the room. The friction was there, but it wasn’t satisfying, leaving you restless. You shifted and squirmed, tossing and turning in search of the perfect angle—one that would finally bring you the pleasure you craved.

Frustration built with every roll of your hips, the pressure teasing but never quite satisfying. A desperate whimper escaped your lips as you shifted, straddling the pillow instead, gripping it tightly as you rutted against it.

You were too lost in the feeling to notice the door creak open.

Riki leaned against the frame, watching with hooded eyes as you helplessly grind against the pillow—his pillow. His jaw clenched at the sight, arousal stirring at the way your face twisted in frustration, small whimpers slipping from your lips.

“Need some help, doll?” His voice was low, teasing, yet laced with something darker.

Your eyes snapped open, glassy with need. “R-Riki… please,” you whimpered, cheeks burning in embarrassment but too far gone to care. “Need you so bad…”

He cocked his head, a smirk tugging at his lips. “But you looked like you were enjoying yourself,” he mused, stepping closer. “Mind if I enjoy a little more of the show?”

Before you could protest, his hands found your hips, gripping them firmly as he guided you back into rhythm against the pillow, forcing you to keep going.

“Fuck! Ki…!” you cried out, your moans swallowed by his lips as he kissed you deeply, his grip on your hips unwavering.

“That’s it, doll,” he cooed, breaking away just enough to watch your expression twist in pleasure. “You just needed a little help, yeah?”

His hands trailed up your body, fingers ghosting over your heated skin, leaving a trail of shivers in their wake. He let you take control, watching with dark amusement as your hips moved on their own, desperate and needy against the pillow. “Such a pretty sight,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your ear. “Keep going for me.”

“Rikiii,” you whimpered, your desperate eyes locking onto his, frustration spilling over in the form of unshed tears.

“What is it, baby? Use your words,” he coaxed, feigning innocence as he wiped a stray tear from your cheek, his touch deceptively gentle.

“Need you to fuck me… need your cock inside, pleasee,” you pleaded, voice trembling, your soaked core pressing against the now-damp pillow beneath you.

A smirk tugged at his lips. “Mhm, since you asked politely.” Without hesitation, he stripped off his clothes, the sight alone making your breath hitch. He wasted no time pulling you onto his lap, tossing the pillow aside, his hands gripping your thighs as he spread them apart. His gaze darkened at the view before him, fingers grazing your inner thighs.

“You’re dripping, doll,” he mused, aligning himself with your entrance. “Guess I should give you what you’ve been begging for.”

A loud moan tore from your lips as he pushed inside, not giving you even a second to adjust before he bottomed out. The stretch was intense, his tip pressing right against that sensitive bundle of nerves, making your back arch. A slight bulge formed in your stomach, a clear reminder of how deep he was.

You tried to move, but your limbs felt weak, trembling from the overwhelming sensation. Riki chuckled, his hands firm on your waist as he teasingly thrust up into you, making you yelp.

“Aww, poor little thing,” he cooed, his tone laced with amusement. “Come on, you can do it. Use me like that pillow, baby.”

Your nails dug into his shoulders as you forced your body to move, rolling your hips against him, your walls clenching around his length. His grip tightened, helping you set a pace, his low groans only adding to the pleasure building inside you.

“So d-deep… hngh, Riki… aah!” you whimpered against his ear, your voice trembling as you buried your face in his shoulder. Your arms wrapped around him tightly, nails digging into his skin as you rocked your hips, fucking yourself on his cock with desperation.

“Feels so good inside me… please, please, please…!” you sobbed, your walls fluttering around him.

Riki groaned, his grip tightening on your waist, guiding your movements as he thrust up to meet you. “That’s it, doll. Take what you need,” he murmured, his lips grazing your neck. “Such a needy little thing… so greedy for me, huh?”

“Mhm, only for you—ngh!” you moaned into his ear as you eagerly rode him.

Riki groaned, feeling the way your walls clenched around him, hot and desperate. His grip on your waist tightened, guiding your movements as he thrust up to meet you, his pace growing rougher. His fingers dug into your skin, surely leaving behind light bruises.

“So eager for me,” Riki murmured, his voice thick with amusement and lust. “I’m way better than that pillow, hmm? Filling you up so good. Tell me, who do you belong to?” His words were a taunt, but the way his hands roamed your body told you he was just as desperate.

His palm pressed firmly against the bulge in your stomach, making you arch against him, a long, needy moan spilling from your lips. The sensation sent another wave of pleasure straight to your core, your body tightening around him in response.

“Haa.. ‘m your—hngh! Yours~!” you gasped, fingers gripping his hair tightly as you tried to ground yourself against the overwhelming pleasure.

Riki chuckled darkly, his hand suddenly twisting into your hair, yanking you back just enough to make your eyes lock onto his. His gaze was filled with hunger, his dark eyes drinking in your fucked-out expression.

“Yeah?” he whispered, lips brushing against yours teasingly. “Then show me, baby. Show me just how much you need me.”

His lips crashed against yours, devouring you in a messy, desperate kiss. Your moans tangled with his as you moved in sync, bodies chasing that intoxicating high. The pleasure coiled tighter and tighter in your core, your walls clenching around him as the pressure built unbearably.

Breaking away from the kiss with a breathless whimper, you gasped, “F-fuck, ‘m close��� Ki…!” Your hands clawed at his back, your hips moving desperately, bouncing against him as you chased your release.

“C’mon, doll,” he groaned, his voice strained with pleasure. “Let’s cum together.” His pace turned erratic, his hips snapping up to meet yours in deep, frantic thrusts. His fingers found your clit, rubbing tight circles that sent sparks through your trembling body.

With one final cry, the knot inside you snapped, pleasure crashing over you in waves. Your body quivered in his hold as you came undone, your walls pulsing around him. The sensation dragged him over the edge, a low moan leaving his lips as he spilled inside you, filling you up with his warmth.

Your body collapsed against him, chest rising and falling rapidly as the aftermath washed over you. His hands smoothed over your back, grounding you with gentle touches. “Good girl,” he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “Do you feel better?”

“Mhm… I didn’t know you’d come home,” you mumbled, burying your face into his shoulder as the realization of what had just happened made your cheeks burn.

Riki chuckled, the deep sound vibrating through his chest. “If you needed me this bad, you could’ve just told me, doll. I would’ve made time for you, y’know?” His words were teasing, but the sincerity was there.

“You always seemed so busy and tired… I didn’t wanna bother yo—mph!” Your words were cut off as his lips crashed onto yours, swallowing your protests with a passionate kiss. His grip tightened around you, holding you close as if he wanted to erase any doubt from your mind.

“Don’t say that,” he murmured against your lips, his tone softer now. “You’re never a bother to me. I love you so much, and I’ll always be here for you if you need me, princess.”

Your heart swelled at his words, a small pout forming on your lips before you pressed a sweet kiss to his nose. “I love you too, Ki.”

The moment felt warm, intimate—until he suddenly smirked. “Say… how about another round?”

You gasped, smacking his chest playfully. “Ki!”

His laughter filled the room, but his amusement only grew as he felt your walls involuntarily clench around him. His eyes darkened, a knowing smirk tugging at his lips. “Oh, princess… you’re squeezing me so tight. I think you want it as much as I do, hm?”

Before you could protest, he flipped you onto your back, pinning you against the mattress effortlessly. His hands gripped your thighs, spreading them apart as he hovered over you.

“Let me make it up to you, yeah?” His voice dripped with desire, his pace painfully slow, each deep thrust leaving you breathless. Your bodies were slick with heat, every movement drawing out soft whimpers as he used the mess between you to glide effortlessly inside.

“Be a good girl and take it,” he whispered against your ear, his lips tracing along your skin, sending shivers down your spine.

He filled you over and over, dragging out every ounce of pleasure until your mind blurred with nothing but him—his touch, his voice, the way he claimed you completely.

And as he filled you up once more, you knew the night was far from over.

taglist @kikidoul @rikiives @contyynishimura @ziiao @lilmarsh-t @bxcndd @laylasbunbunny @d-dilemma

[heeluvv]

𝐒𝐇𝐄❜𝐒 𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 ִֶָ☾.

pairing ⏾ sister's bf! lee heeseung x reader

genre ⏾ smut

warnings ⏾ blowjob, p in v, unprotected sex, cheating, etc.

natty's notes ⏾ mdni, hate comments will be deleted.

you feel his gaze even when you’re not looking.

it burns into your skin like an open flame, scorching and heavy, even as he sits across the room, his lips locked with your sister’s.

she’s curled up against him on the couch, giggling into his mouth, fingers tangled in his hair as she kisses him like she’s the only one in the world who matters to him.

but you know better.

because even with her pressed against him, even with her whispering sweet things in his ear, he’s not looking at her.

his eyes are on you.

your stomach twists, an icy dread creeping up your spine as you shift in your seat, refusing to meet his stare. but you feel it—deep, piercing, and utterly unashamed.

heeseung doesn’t look at you the way your sister thinks he does. he doesn’t glance, doesn’t spare you a passing acknowledgment like a normal boyfriend would.

he watches.

you hate it.

you hate him.

there’s something wrong with him, something lurking beneath that perfect smile, beneath the charming words and effortless affection he showers your sister with. something that makes your skin crawl.

you tried to tell her once.

you sat her down, voice trembling as you tried to explain the way heeseung’s eyes linger too long, the way his presence feels suffocating whenever you’re alone with him. you told her about the way he always finds an excuse to be near you, how his touches are fleeting but intentional—how you feel like a mouse in a cat’s cage every time he’s around.

but she only scoffs.

“god, you’re so jealous,” she had said, rolling her eyes. “you're so fucking pathetic. you always do this—always trying to ruin things for me just because no one wants you. maybe if you weren't so miserable and desperate for attention, you wouldn't have to make up lies about my boyfriend.”

jealous.

that’s what she called it.

as if the way heeseung’s gaze strips you bare, as if the way he devours you with his eyes, as if the way he makes you feel like you’re being hunted is something as simple as jealousy.

now, as you sit stiffly in the armchair, fists clenched in your lap, you force yourself to ignore the way his fingers grip your sister’s waist—because you know, you just know, that he’s imagining it’s you instead.

your sister pulls away first, breathless, lips swollen from the way heeseung had been kissing her like he was starving. she giggles, murmuring something to him before she turns toward the hallway, her attention stolen as your parents call for her from another room.

and just like that, she’s gone.

leaving you alone with him.

you hear him shift on the couch, the soft creak of the leather as he spreads his legs wide, making himself comfortable like he owns the place. like he owns you.

you don’t dare look at him.

but you feel him.

his gaze is heavy, suffocating, dragging over every inch of your body like an invisible touch. it makes your skin prickle, makes your pulse hammer in your throat.

you try to focus on something—anything—but the weight of his stare is too much, pressing into you like a brand.

then he hums, low and amused.

“why aren’t you looking at me, baby?”

his voice is rough, raspy, laced with something thick and dark that seeps into your bones and coils around your spine.

a shiver racks through you before you can stop it.

heeseung catches it, of course.

he sees everything.

you can hear the smirk in his tone as he tilts his head, his fingers tapping idly against his thigh.

“i know you feel me looking at you…” he murmurs.

his words slither under your skin, wrapping around you, suffocating.

your fingers tighten into fists in your lap, your body rigid as you force yourself to keep your eyes anywhere but on him.

but he doesn’t like that.

heeseung tuts under his breath, shifting forward slightly—close, too close.

“don’t be shy,” he drawls, voice dipping even lower, his gaze burning into your profile. “look at me.”

your stomach twists.

you don’t want to. you can’t.

because if you do, you know exactly what you’ll see.

the hunger in his eyes.

the ownership.

the satisfaction of knowing he already has you exactly where he wants you.

he scoffs, the sound sharp and condescending, like he’s already tired of your defiance.

you don’t have to see him to know he’s annoyed—the air between you feels heavier, thicker, charged with something dangerous.

then comes the tsk, a slow, deliberate sound of irritation, followed by his voice—low, sharp, demanding.

“fucking look at me, y/n.”

you stiffen.

his tone leaves no room for argument. no space to escape.

your breath hitches as your body betrays you, your head slowly turning until your eyes are forced to meet his.

they’re dark, hungry, full of something that shouldn’t be there.

your stomach knots, heat creeping up your neck as his gaze pierces into you, drinking in your every reaction.

“is it that fucking hard to just listen?”

you gulp, your throat dry, fingers clenching against your thighs as your entire body tenses.

you can’t answer. your mouth won’t move.

you shift in your seat, discomfort rolling off you in waves, your gaze flickering toward the hallway—toward the only place that feels safe.

but heeseung sees. he always sees.

and he doesn’t like it.

there’s a low exhale, almost a growl, before he moves.

your heart jumps to your throat as he pushes off the couch, his long strides closing the distance between you before you can even think about moving.

he looms over you, his frame casting a shadow, his eyes scanning every inch of you like he’s starving.

then—he groans. deep. guttural. pained.

your chest tightens.

you don’t understand why until he’s right in front of you, until you finally see it.

the thick strain in his pants.

your breath catches, the realization slamming into you all at once, your entire body going rigid as heeseung reaches out, his fingers threading into your hair—not gentle, not soft, but possessive. claiming.

“this is what you do to me, y/n…”

his voice is husky, dripping with frustration, with need.

your lips part, your mind scrambling for something—anything—to say, but all that comes out is a broken, breathless whisper.

“heeseung… w-what are you doing?”

his fingers tighten, his head tilting slightly as he watches you, drinking in the panic in your eyes, the way your lips tremble, how your thighs press together as if you’re trying to disappear.

but he’s not letting you go.

not now. not ever.

“teaching you a lesson,” he murmurs, his grip firm, his eyes alight with something sick and possessive.

“one you should have learned a long time ago.”

his fingers worked swiftly, unzipping his pants with a harsh, metallic rasp, freeing his hardened length to the cool air. his hands, strong and sure, began to stroke his cock, the soft skin gliding over the steel beneath. a symphony of soft groans escaped his parted lips, each one humming with pent-up desire. you sat rooted to the spot, your feet heavy as stone. even if you wanted to, you couldn't move, frozen in this tableau of tension and forbidden yearning.

a wave of shame crashed over you as you felt a spark of arousal, unbidden and unwanted, kindling within you. it spread like wildfire, fanned by the sight of heeseung stroking himself, his eyes locked onto yours. it was wrong, every fiber of your being screamed it. he was your sister's boyfriend, her trust wrapped around him like a shroud.

he moved closer, his shaft heavy and insistent as it tapped against your lips, leaving a trail of silken warmth. "open up," he commanded, his voice harsh and unyielding, brooking no argument.

"heeseung-" you began, your voice barely a whisper, but it was swiftly muffled as he slid his long, girthy length into your mouth, filling it completely. the world narrowed to this singular act, the taste of him, the feel of him, the raw, primal power of it all.

his moans clawed their way out of his throat, a primal sound he futilely attempted to smother, aware that your family was merely a whisper away, tucked behind thin walls. his hands navigated to the back of your head, fingers digging into your hair like a man possessed, as he guided your mouth onto him. his shaft delved into the depths of your throat, your gag reflex constricting around him, sending waves of pleasure coursing through his body. he tilted his head back, eyes rolled to the whites, lost in the sensation. "fuck, you're so much better than her, baby…" he groaned softly, his balls beating out a steady rhythm against your chin, punctuating each thrust.

your pleas were stifled by his flesh, his head lolling back as he guided your head down on him. your hands fluttered against his thighs, a desperate morse code of dissent, but to no avail. he was enthralled by the way you felt, you were more than good, you were exquisite.

"oh shit… baby…" he moaned, his eyes now meeting yours as tears welled up and spilled over, tracing silvery paths down your cheeks. "you're so fucking cute… taking my dick so well, baby…" he grunted, his voice a low, primal rumble, like the distant thunder of a storm about to break. his eyes, hooded with lust, bore into yours, and his teeth were bared in a savage grin, a conqueror's smile, as he reveled in your helplessness, in your submission to his carnal desires. the room filled with the raw, primal sounds of his pleasure, a symphony of grunts and groans that seemed to echo off the walls, a brutal, intimate serenade.

he swiftly separates you from him, his hands gliding down to your pants with a sense of urgency, pulling them down in one fluid motion, along with your panties, which are unexpectedly damp against your skin. there's no hesitation as he thrusts his hard length into you, his hand swiftly covering your mouth to stifle the cries that spill from your lips, muffling them into soft, desperate whimpers.

“god, baby…” he groans, his brow knitting together with the intensity of his pleasure. “loosen up for me, baby; you're so fucking tight…” he murmurs, his voice trembling with the overwhelming sensation of your snug warmth enveloping him, his entire body quivering with the exquisite friction.

the narrowness of your walls does little to impede his frenzied rhythm as he slams into you, the couch quaking beneath your combined weight. you're astonished that your sister hasn't returned yet, and even more so that neither of you hear her approaching, given the racket you and heeseung are making. his moans escape in a relentless stream, his lips pressed firmly against your ear, one hand clamped tightly over your mouth to stifle any noise from you because you don't know how to be anything but loud.

"f-fuck, baby…" he growls, his voice a low, husky rumble in your ear. "taking your sister's boyfriend's cock like a good girl, huh?" his taunts are cruel, his pace unyielding. "or are you just a whore for any fucking dick, huh?"

your whines are muffled beneath his hand, but he hears them nonetheless, crystal clear. your eyes are filled with tears, your vision blurred by the salty streams that stain your cheeks. the room is a whirlwind of sensation and sound, your bodies moving in a brutal, desperate dance. the air is thick with the scent of sweat and sex, the couch creaking like a old ship in a storm.

your walls constrict further, echoing the tautness in your stomach that twists and tightens with each passing second. as you clench, electric shocks radiate through heeseung's body, drawing out moans that grow more intense with every breath. "fuck, baby…" he gasps, his voice a ragged whisper, "you’re going to make me cum any second now if you keep clenching on me like that…" his hands, strong and insistent, press your head down into the plush cushions of the couch, while he lifts your lower body, adjusting the angle to plunge deeper into you. the new position amplifies every sensation, every thrust sending waves of pleasure crashing through you.

"hm! fuck, heeseung!" you cry out, your voice muffled against the couch cushion, eyes rolling back in ecstasy. "fuck yeah…" he growls, his movements escalating to a primal, relentless rhythm. "fuck yeah, baby, say my name again…" his voice is a low, desperate plea, urging you on as the world around you blurs into a haze of pure, unadulterated sensation.

the scent of your arousal fills the air as heeseung's cock pumps into you. sweat drips from his face and onto your back, rolling down your curves. your hands grip onto the couch, your fingers digging into the fabric. you push back against him with every thrust, your body begging for more.

every sense is heightened, every nerve alight, but guilt is notably absent. all you can do is marvel at the way heeseung's touch ignites something within you, a magic that dances through your body like a spell. your sister's words echo in your mind, and you begin to wonder if she was right. perhaps there was a kernel of jealousy buried deep within you. she never deserved this, never deserved him. heeseung was not the man for her. your thoughts scatter like startled birds as you feel your climax approaching, your body trembling with anticipation.

"shit! hee!" you cry out, your voice muffled against the cushion as waves of pleasure crash over you. your release coats heeseung completely, your body convulsing with the intensity of it all.

he throws his head back, tendons taut against his neck as he grows his own release. "oh fuck, baby…" he groans, his voice a low rumble like distant thunder. he bursts within you, a hot, thick rush that fills you completely, overwhelming your senses. your legs shake as his essence overflows, trickling down your skin like a river of sin.

in that moment, you know you've crossed a line, but you can't find it in you to care. wrong or right, you are intoxicated, addicted to this dance of desire. and you know, with a clarity that is almost cruel, that you won't stop. your fates are intertwined, a tangled web of passion and betrayal, and there's no turning back now.

natty's notes ⏾ okay first of all i wanted to thank y'all for all the support on cramped, i am extremely grateful for it and i honestly can't believe it hit 1K that is unbelievable!! but anyways i have written abt my man so i hope you guys love this just as much as my others, tysmmmmm ilygs !!!

[kisssukuna33]

Can i request Sukuna hyping up and being very devoted to his wife who is insecure about her body after having a baby?

Husband Sukuna comforting Wife reader who's insecure about her body after having a baby

"He finally went to sleep" Sukuna said letting out a big sigh of relief as he sat down on the couch beside you.

As much as it was a blessing, being first time parents really took a toll on you both. It's only been 2 months so far and the baby has pretty much changed your life upside down. The dark circles visible in both of your faces say that enough.

"He kept crying even after you left to check the restaurant this morning" a displeased sigh left your mouth matching your husband's.

"I told you to sleep woman" Sukuna said gently grabbing your face into his hands as he observed the dark circles under your eyes, a concerned expression taking over his face.

"Tell that to your son, he's the one keeping me up"

"That's why I told you to call me if he started to give you shit. That's it, I'm closing the restaurant for 3 more weeks" Sukuna said, no almost like he scolded you.

"You're going to lose customers if you keep closing it like this" You voiced your concern because you know Sukuna didn't spend time in the restaurant more than 4 days since you have given birth. Everytime he had to leave he looked at you like he's leaving you alone in a Battlefield.

"That's not something you have to concern yourself with, I pay the workers anyway" He got up from the couch as he went to your shared bedroom and came back with a bag in his hands.

"Besides I already earned enough for my family to be comfortable, you know that" He said as he put the bag in your hands.

"what's this?" You asked curiously taking a peek inside the bag. A dress. A gorgeous tube dress with a large flower in the middle and cut out from the sides. You can never compete with Sukuna's taste when it comes to choosing clothes. He knows what looks good on you everytime and you never doubted his taste until maybe now.

You have given birth only 2 months ago, your post pregnancy belly and the stretch marks surrounding it is still pretty much visible, not to mention you are completely a different size from before. You anxiously check the inside of your dress to see the size Sukuna bought you, in deep down you wanted to check if Sukuna also took notice in your change of weight. But for some reason the size tag has been ripped off from the dress already. That sly bastard.

"Wear it, We are going out for dinner. I already called Choso so he will babysit tonight" Sukuna said as he leaned down and pressed a kiss to your hair. He wanted to make you happy, he really did. He didn't want you to remember the early part of your parenting journey as only stress. He thought maybe finally going out for dinner can be a good change for the both of you. But it didn't take him that long to notice the sour expression in your face.

"uh Kuna how about we-"

"No we are going, you have been inside the house for 2 months. You need this" he said in a stern voice leaving no room for arguments.

You sigh thinking of another way to not wear this dress.

"This looks expensive" That earned an eyebrow raise from Sukuna.

"of course it isn't. When the fuck have I ever bought you cheap shit?" Sukuna said like he's personally offended by your comment.

"That's not what i- Anyway maybe this is too much for a dinner" please work! Please work! You mentally chanted as you continued with the lie "I'm gonna save this for a special occasion".

Sukuna wore a dumb look on his face. Clearly trying to figure out what nonsense are you spouting because he can just buy you a new one? Like he always do?

You avoided meeting meeting Sukuna's gaze because that man can read you like a book.

"Woman what are you- And Why do you keep looking that way? Look at me" Sukuna said as he kneeled down in front you.

He cupped your face with one hand as he brought it closer to his face.

"spit it out"

You left out a sigh as you began telling him how you felt about your post pregnancy body and it didn't take long for Sukuna's face to drop. He felt like it was his fault that you felt this way. It's been few weeks since you two shared intimacy and Sukuna wasn't able to remind you how much devoted he is to your body even after you gave birth ( your doctor said 4 weeks of no sex but Sukuna being the protective husband he is, decided to wait atleast two months).

The moment you finished your explanation Sukuna picked you up into his arms. He wrapped your legs around his waist as he carried you to the bedroom.

He gently put you down the bed as he started to take off your shirt. You were a bit nervous at first but decided to let him do it anyway. The moment you see the scars visible in your belly you looked away hiding from Sukuna's gaze.

"Look at me, Don't look away"

Sukuna brought his face closer to your scars. First he ran his fingers through them. Like a blind man reading a book and touching it with care. Then his lips started to touch your skin. He kissed you softly slowly making his way around your scars. He kept bringing his eyes to yours reminding them to keep watching. Sukuna didn't miss a single scar, no. When he finally separated his lips from your body, you felt like he casted a spell on you. A purifying spell making all the negative energy around your body go away.

"You went through hell with the brat, those scars are reminders that how strong of a fight you put up. Scars or without scars you are still the same gorgeous woman I fell in love with 2 years ago" listening to Sukuna's words you can't help but let the tears fall down. How much lucky you must be to have this man in your life. If you could marry him again you would do it in a heartbeat.

"And don't you dare call my wife ugly I will fucking kill you"

That earned a giggle from your part as you smacked his chest playfully.

"Your wife must be a very lucky woman then" you murmured wrapping your arms around Sukuna's neck as you pull him into your embrace.

"Nah, I'm the lucky one"

[likesomeoneinlovee]

𝐈 𝐒𝐞𝐞 𝐑𝐞𝐝

Pairing: Dbf!Joel Miller x F!reader

Summary: Joel has had a ‘crush’ on you for a long time now and will make sure no man gets in the way of that.

Word Count: 6k

Warnings: PW[with]P- kinda. Reader is not legal to drink but still legal. Polite reader just trying to not be a bitch while dealing with a pervy old man! Joel has a crush on you, a BIG one. Bro gets so mad he gets a boner. Mutual touching he drives, a teeny bit of spanking & nipple play, unprotected PIV, aftercare for once wow!! Part 2 planned [ will be smuttier once im not sick ] no beta,

A/N: ANON REQ!! (you know who u are and here’s my take on a bit of a jealous Joel) I would've done way more smut if I didn’t have a high fever rn + writers block 😵‍💫! so VERY rushed.

No man should covet a woman he doesn’t own. 

And you weren’t his. 

Your daddy would make sure you would never be. 

Joel tells himself that. Over and over again, the only prayer in his head, the hymn he lives by ever since you’ve been staying with him per your father’s request. You yourself slowly recognizing Joel’s patterns of life. As he wakes up he takes pills for his headaches, swallowing them dry without a blink. His body is accustomed to the feeling. Every Saturday he’d take a weekly drive to the liquor store to stock up on the much needed provisions to his day-to-day routines. Booze, in much less dramatic terms. 

Your father was out of state for work forcing you to settle up with Joel for a couple of months, the only man your father would allow you to actually be around. In fear of you doing something bad. Bad as in… Sex? You could only assume that’s what your darling daddy meant. 

A rocky relationship in the cruel reality. 

Joel’s home. It was livable, there isn’t much to say when it’s the house of a man who’s been living alone twenty years. Indications of life scattered upon furniture the only real telltale signs that someone actually lives there. Coffee table littered with rings from mugs he’d simply leave for too long, the way the worn, vomit-colored green couch sags in the middle. Any prints that were on the buttons of the TV remote had been rubbed off by pressing around them, the last time he had gotten a new television was probably going on fifteen years now. Sad. Truly and utterly sad. 

Then you came along. 

Remnants of your liveliness woven into the once so dreary place. Something as so simple as a hair tie left on the counter, the very vague scent of perfume you left lingering in the small space of the bathroom every time you’d leave it. Now at night he’d walk past the second bedroom of his home that had been left unused, once depressed and dark, had the warm glow of your lamp being left on, leaking through the gap between the door and the floor. The littlest things.

Joel pretends not to notice. 

Though, he does. 

He notices the way you hum so very quietly the times you’re obligated to cook your own breakfast. How you pull your knees up onto the couch when you sit. Rolling your eyes at him every time he’d vexingly tell you to make sure to lock the front door when you came in. You listened. 

You’re too comfortable here. Too at ease. 

And what’s worse is he was getting used to it.

He’s not your fuckin’ father. He’s not your keeper. He’s just the man your daddy trusted well enough to take care of you when he was gone. Sorry excuse for a babysitter all the while you weren’t a baby. An adult who can well take care of herself. Only agreed because he wouldn’t want you to discover how he’s been living for practically twenty years by being alone for two months. The dark quietness of a home when it was just you there. 

He told himself it would be easy. Two months. He’d keep his distance. 

It’s almost impossible. The way you made him feel was sickening. You’re always around. Sinking deep into the couch, marveling in whatever boring sitcom would play on the box of blue light that flickered throughout the room. How you’d take sips from his beer just to tease, wrinkle your nose at the taste deep down you liked. Making your tongue buzz. You were making yourself at home in a place that was never meant to be yours. 

The only thing that worsened it for Joel is that you were so blissfully unaware of what you were doing to him. 

He thought the hardest part of this arrangement would be keeping you out of trouble. Your father acting like if he was gone you’d fall apart as a person. Be out partying or fuckin’ every night. Far from the truth. Laying so contently home every night.

Coming back to reality, the hardest part was keeping himself out of it. 

It’s the way you’d walk around his house in whatever you had slept in that night, no matter it be a tank-top and those tiny, plaid shorts that went up your ass. Appreciating the comfortability, though, he fucking hated it. You acted like you belonged there. 

Often he’s finding himself watching you too long, staring at the curve of your mouth while you speak, the plump of your lips as you stay entertained by the television with your face at a gentle rest. He was always seemingly gawked. 

Fifty-seven wasn’t the age to have crushes. 

And on Sunday’s, the day of the lord, of course. Joel Miller goes to the local bar.

Nighttime was surprisingly when the crowd died down. You were surprised to see that as you walked through the doors that sheltered the poorly kept saloon style establishment. Tables seated with older men closer to Joel’s age, some luckier than others to be accompanied by a woman. Smelled like stale beer and sweat which in reality was more disgusting than appealing. Loud breaks in the casual conversions of the crowd as pool balls clacked together. Rejoicing coming soon after. 

Usually you had something better to do on these nights. Going out with your friend’s always suffices though of course they canceled out today. Great, stuck with Mister Miller for a night of drinking all the while you weren’t allowed to let alcohol in your body at your age.He wouldn’t lie for you either, he was supposed to take care of you. Not turn you into the starts of an alcoholic. 

Torturous. Did the man want you to shoot yourself?

He led you through the slim pickings of a crowd there really was, hand grazing the small of your back to keep you close. Nothing more. Both sliding your bodies onto the leather tops of the barstools. Uncomfortability was the price to pay for the first hand of drinks. A squeak in your stool that no one had the patience to fix. 

“Whiskey.” The request sounded more like a plea from his lips. “Two.”

You knew the second one didn’t mean for you. 

Rubbing his temple as he flagged down the waitress. She was all too polite for what seemed to be the shittiest bar on earth. As if a small town in Texas would give you any better. Nodding her head in your direction. Your lips pursed as if ‘Beer” was gonna be the next thing to move past them. Though, you digressed. 

“Soda. I guess.” Joel gave a nod to you. Of course he approved of that action. Rubbing a hand over his jaw he sighed. Forgetting to take his pills this morning. Fuck, the throb behind his eye was something only the alcohol could numb by now. 

“You could’a stayed home.”

“Yeah, I could’ve.” You shrugged, admittedly so you rather be home- no. You rather be out with your friends as you were supposed to be tonight but in an act of such kindness, you came here with Joel. “Maybe I wanted to see why you liked this place so much.” It was a simple muse to him, though it did strike your curiosity. 

“Quickest bar from home. Quickest way to get drunk.” Curiosity met with an undeniably depressing answer. You were used to it by now. His lips pressed into a thin line. Once the barkeep came back she handed Joel his drinks, plural. As she also came with yours. Soda rimmed with ice. He picked up the first drink given, perspiration coating the glass. His thumb pressed against the cold lowball as he took the first sip. Heavy hot liquid sliding down his throat. Numbing him, his mind. Felt refreshed. 

You hum, stirring the ice in your soda in circles with your straw. He hears the clinking over the din of the bar. Louder than his own thoughts. 

You crossed your legs. Your thighs squishing together through the denim of your jeans, the material a bit loose on your body, a choice out of comfortability to buy baggier bell bottoms instead of the ones that hugged your ass tight. Drawing Joel’s eyes unintentionally.

Fuck this. 

He drags his palm down his face, trying to wipe away whatever the fuck he was feeling. It’s sickening for him. It’s so easy to not feel like this when it’s something so simple, so selfish as a one night stand, a whore he had paid to suck his cock. Different. Far different, especially since the last month he’s spent his time admiring the woman before him. You. The innocence in your eyes that served your beauty. It was this crawling under his skin he wanted to rip away from. 

So fucking vigilant on the scent of you, the sound of your voice, the way you shift ever so slightly closer to him as another group of men pass.

Joel breathes out slowly, averting his eyes to the sweet sight of you. 

The night goes on, the whiskey dulling the edges of restraint with every slow, steady sip. Slowly the place was growing on you, the night seemed to cool it down, less noise less chatter. Seems everyone needed to knock out a couple drinks before settling. You would’ve been happy to say the same if you were allowed to order that beer. You propped your chin in your palm, your elbow flat against the bartop avoiding any of the sticky substances that would coat some unfortunate patches of it. Your eyes scan throughout the place. Not much to take in, not much to see.

Though the slow deliberate movements draw the tiniest bit of attention from a table your eyes accidentally glance at for too long. Subtle but inevitable. 

Joel catches the way the men sitting at that table glance your way. The way you adjusted your body to once again sit straight up. Clearing your throat. 

And that’s when it starts. 

The first one wasn’t particularly bold about it. Just a flick of his gaze in your direction before returning to his minutes-til’-flat beer. The second man, greying, looks a little longer. Too closely. He nudges his friend, mutters something incoherent- something probably offensive to earn a laugh from him. Now he looked again.

Joel knows that look.

The kind that lingers for too long. That waits for an opening.

The kind that makes Miller’s teeth grind, his shoulders go rigid. His fingers slowly begin tightening around the glass of gold as he keeps his eyes forward. His eyes flutter just a bit to the left, seeing your smile. Trying to hide it by gently pressing your lips to the rim of your glass. Pretty pink lips. Before time heat is bubbling in his belly. Praying to god that was the fuckin’ whiskey. 

Those men are still watching. 

The next sip of booze doesn’t quite help as much as he’d want. It doesn’t smooth out the sharp edges of this feeling, the low simmering deep inside his pelvis. It keeps getting worse. 

He’s coming over. Walking with heavy legs. 

Joel sees it from the corner of his eyes, the way the man pushed back the chair, unhurriedly, sloppily walking straight towards you. From what Miller could gauge from the corner of his eye and what the wiry grey hairs covering the man’s beard told him is that he was older. Older as in his own age. Fifties either early or late. Joel wanted to die. Exhaling sharply, slamming down his glass a bit too hard. 

Muddled, you’d lift your head from your glass to look at Miller with an eyebrow cocked. And before you could even speak-

“Evenin’.” The man spoke.

You’d blindly blink at the man now standing beside your barstool. Startled for only a second before schooling your expression into something- polite. Something surely this man was undeserving of yet you really couldn’t help it. Instincts. 

“Hi.” Joel wouldn’t turn, wouldn’t acknowledge him. Not yet.  

“Can I help you?” You smiled, sweetly.

The man would lean in as expected. The strong smell of beer radiating off his breath. Open-mouthed ogling like a fucking dog. He was clearly absolutely wasted. Just those words were an absolute understatement. 

“Is this your daddy?” Of course he’d say that. Gesturing to Joel who was looking straight on before he turned a glance to the man, his eyes slits as he glared. Understandable. If you weren’t trying to give this man the benefit of the doubt you’d be glaring too. This guy was undeniably a fucking dick.  

“No- no,” You’d giggle. “My babysitter.”

You didn’t like how your mind and soul was making you act, unfortunate your internal instincts were to be tooth-achingly sweet in public.

You wanted to die. 

“S’my lucky day, huh?” You’d blink again. Silence as if the man had stole all the thoughts from your head- not in the good way. 

“No. Not- not quite.” 

You’d laugh, trying your best to brush it off. The man should go away soon. Probably just mistaking you for something you’re not while you’re here trying your best to avoid something awkward. Joel’s jaw clenched. 

“Well,” He hushed. A finger twirled into one of your soft locks. Your body tensing as you kept up another nervous giggle– you were only egging him on more. “I just wanted to see you up close.”

“She ain’t interested.” Miller told the truth with that. You weren’t and you were further from interested. Though the nervous, dumb smile on your lips told the fuckin’ pervert otherwise. 

“She didn’t tell me that.” He pushed. “I’d much rather hear that from your mouth, sweetie.”

You hesitated, your lips parted though words weren’t falling. Refusing. Alas, Joel Miller reached his breaking point. 

He popped up from his stool as he moved over to the guy. The greying man hesitated at the sight, of course. He wasn’t gonna be the kinda man to get his ass beat over something fucking stupid. Though, Joel was willing to beat his ass for your sake. 

A long beat of silence through the access chatter swimming around the bar enters the space between you, Joel and this sad fuckin’ man. 

Joel doesn’t blink.

He doesn’t breathe. 

He just stares. 

The man exhales a chuckle, deep down he didn’t want to walk out of here with a broken nose for flirting with a girl he wanted to fuck. A girl he thought was alone, dumb enough to possibly join him and his sad excuses for friends sitting around his table.

“Didn’t mean any trouble, pal.” He threw his palms up in a mock surrender though, he didn’t mean it. That’s what that beer was for afterall. Stepping back only an inch, letting the hair that was between his fingers fall back to your shoulder. 

“Just bein’ friendly.” 

Joel didn’t answer, why should he? The man let out a scoff as he walked back to his table with his tail between his legs. That was good. All Miller could do was sigh. His shoulders still at unease as he sat back down on the bar stool. Your heart at a slow thump against your ribs. 

You knew deep down that really, you were fine with that. Sure that man was a cuck, sure, you were uncomfortable, but you also knew yourself and you knew if that man would have touched anything else other than the tip of your hair. Oh fuck. He would’ve been gone.

Or– would he? 

It doesn’t shake the feeling that Joel was annoyingly protective if that was the right word for it. That man wasn’t your dad. He didn’t need to stick up for you.

He never did. 

He ran a palm down his face –again– he couldn't take the way he was around you. 

“Ohh, what the fuck.”

He was tired of this.

Goddamn if that happened a month ago chances are he wouldn’t have done anything other than roll his eyes and tell the fucker to go jerk off somewhere else but– oh my god did Joel wish he was the one that close to you. Breathing you in. 

Of course, you weren’t a random woman at a bar.

If only he had enough balls to speak to you. 

Pent up hormones ready to blow out of him every moment he was around you. He was too fucking old for this. 

Too fucking old.

If he felt the rush of blood to his cock one more time this night he was gonna–

Joel was already moving by now. Already shoving back from the bar, the scream of the stool leg against the glazed wooden floor of this god forbidden place made you inherently flinch. His jaw tight, the muscle in his cheek ticking as he reaches for his wallet, tossing a few bills onto the counter without counting. He didn’t fucking care about the act of either over-paying or under-paying right now. He had one, sinfully unfortunate thing on his mind. 

He knew he’d never do it. 

But that didn’t mean he wasn’t thinkin’ it.

Then his hand was on your wrist.

Grasping.

Firm. Unyielding. 

“C’mon.” He gritted. “Time to go, baby.” 

That was a new one. The name melting of his tongue like an instinct.

His grip was tight. Breathing hitched at the feeling of the grip. He was lucky it didn’t hurt. It was enough to make it clear he needed to get out of there. The reason wasn’t clear. It could be innocent on his part: he didn’t want you in a space where old men are looking at you. Ogling you like a slab of fuckin’ meat. 

His real reason was sickening. 

“Joel– c’mon!”

You’d whine, maybe you had a good reason to stay. Maybe you were just being defiant. 

Typical, like a child.

He didn’t give you time to finish.

The bar stool nearly topples as he pulls you up. Stumbling in the boots you were wearing. Tugging you in tightly to stand beside him. He was tensed, heat radiating off his body like a goddamn furnace. He doesn’t look at you, doesn’t speak as if there was a point to. Nothing he said got through to you anyways. He just moves.

People are watching. Who wouldn’t? 

Your pulse spikes as you catch the amused glances throughout the pub. Folks who weren’t looking before now blinking. Causing a scene. Again, 

You. Wanted. To. Die. 

And to make it all better Joel’s eyes rip to the table those men from earlier were sitting at. The ones who eyed you. That same man who had harassed you muttering something to his friend beside him. Fuck. 

He thought he couldn’t get any more pissed. 

His palm covered his lips with no way to read. The music playing throughout the room covered any sounds of a hushed whisper into another man’s ear.

Though, Joel is pivoting. 

His grip on you released as he took a heavy-footed stomp over to that table. He frowned. He wanted to kill them. He would if he could. “What the fuck did you just say?”

“Jesus Christ, man.” One of the men mused. Of course, Joel Miller was just another sorry excuse of a man to them. “You don’t give it up do you.” Your babysitter wasn’t intimidating in a setting like this. To a man drunk as a fuckin’ skunk sitting with a bunch of men who reeked of the same stench. 

Joel doesn’t move.

He goes to walk away. No. There was absolutely no point in doing anything.

You could’ve heard a pin drop.

“All I said is that if I were you I would’ve fucked her by now.” No. Nope that was it.

A quick turn back around and Joel had slammed his fist into the man’s face. Heavy handed. Joel’s knuckles cracking with the impact in the same note as the man’s nose. 

“Fuck!!!” The man cried. It was well deserved. Why would Joel let a man talk to his–

You weren’t his.

Miller couldn’t breathe in the moment. His breathing ragged, watching the blood quickly drip out the man’s nostrils. God was it satisfying.

Your stomach plummets. You can confidently say you’ve never heard a man yell like that. Before the next tick of epinephrine hits Joel his hand now runs to your waist instead. Pushing you out the doors before running into the parking lot.

Holy fucking shit.

The air of the night hit you like a bucket of ice quickly. Suddenly you were regretting only wearing a thin hoodie with a tank top underneath. Joel was dragging you to his truck, practically throwing you into shotgun. 

Slamming the door to your side.

He rounds the front quickly. Pulling open the driver’s side as he slid into the seat. You swore you could hear the way his breath shudders in his throat. His Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat as he pulls his seatbelt over his body– safety first, right? 

The truck was suffocating. Too small. Too fucking warm. 

You lick your lips, tasting salt. Your nerves were shot to hell. “Jesus Christ, Joel.”

He frowned. Fist on the shifter before pulling it into drive. He was speeding away, far away from that bar. Yeah, that one punch may had ruined his personal ‘holy day’ for a good while. If him and that man are ever in the same room again most likely one of them is getting there shit rocked and Joel worries that next time it may be him. 

He doesn’t necessarily wanna take that chance. All because of something so FUCKING stupid.

He doesn’t speak. Nothing to say on his part as for you– too stunned to say anything. You had no understanding of why Joel Miller of all people, of all the men you know was acting like this. His fists balled against the steering wheel. Knuckles turning pale. Ghostly. 

“Fuck.” 

He broke the silence with a curse. He was mad. At least, he sounded so. The growl in his voice masked the need. He could feel every twist, every coil in his gut. All because of you.

He can’t keep hiding it. 

“You’re makin’ me so fuckin’ crazy, baby.”

The smell of hard booze on his breath impregnated your nose. Slowly beginning to understand the acts in the bar. “That wasn’t me trying to flirt.” You quickly retorted. That was the honest truth that you’d be abiding by. You were too nervous to do anything except giggle like a dumbass so that’s what you did.

“I can’t help the fact I try to be polite. Even if they’re verging sexual harassment.” 

You’d try to keep it light hearted with a quip. Joel didn’t laugh. Pursing his lips into a line before speaking. It only pissed him off more.

“Not what I’m sayin’.”

You breathe. What the hell did this man want from you if it wasn’t some reasoning from your lips? The road was wet, asphalt glistening with a sheen of rain making light reflect easily off like a mirror. As Joel turned his brights on to properly see through the dark road that light reflected into the truck. The formally dark truck.

Your gaze was pulled to his lap. An accident at first but–

Oh.

Oh, fuck.

His cock would writhe against the tightening denim of his jeans. If that didn’t tell you enough you didn’t know what would. 

Joel’s hands flex against the wheel, the veins in his hands popping.

“Whatever you say, M’not fuckin, jealous.”

No no, he was.

And the tension rolling off of him is suffocating, filling the small front space of the truck like a thick fog. Choking you. You could almost still feel the touch he left on you. The phantom of his fingertips that had branded your skin only a few minutes ago now.

He wanted you to touch him and it wasn’t a secret anymore. 

You reached your hand out to place on his thigh. The way his teeth sunk deeply into his bottom lip. Yeah, he fucking needed this. You felt your own stomach bloom with heat as your fingertips just barely scathed the denim of his jeans. You were just so close. Closer than you’ve ever been. And if this is something to forever be forbidden,

For all you know this could be as close as you’ll ever be. 

He adjusted his hips. Spreading his legs as if to coax you, as if to tell you this is the right thing. Maybe it was too vague. He took a hand off the wheel as he began soothing more into things. His shoulders finally relaxed as he took a long. Deep breath in. Then out. His fingertips danced along the crotch of your own jeans. Pressing the pad of his middle against your extremely clothed clit, muscle memory of where he knew it was.

He knew.

It was that touch that made your legs wanna buckle. Your cunt clench. 

Your palm soothed up his thigh as he focused on the road. Eyes adjusting, focusing. While his cock focused all by himself. Finally your smaller hand went to the tent in his jeans. Taking your pointer and tracing a line up the curve of the bulge. Wooing a twitch from him. His finger pushed harder into your clothed heat. Rewarding him in your first gasp of the night. 

“Jesus, baby. Soon enough I’ll be the one with the broken nose.”

A jest like that was hard to process currently. 

“What do you mean-?” 

Joel takes his hand away from between your legs just for a second to turn the radio on. Very very low, some old 80’s rock song came on. The background noise almost calming.

“Your daddy.” He’d grunt. “If he ever knew I was touchin’ you–”

“I know. My mouth is shut.”

It was a promise. A promise as your palm slipped beneath his belt.

Home sweet home.

Once the front door was closed the exchanges between your mouths were all teeth and tongue. Messy, sloppy. No shortage of drool dribbling down either of your chins. His fingers latching around the hem of your tank top as he pulled it over your head. No bra. Less work for him. 

It was like clockwork how his big, rough hands scooped under your thighs to grab you, pick you up with a strained grunt ripping from his chest. He couldn’t remember a time where his cocks been this hard. He could almost completely promise that it’s never been. It was heavy and once his jeans were pulled down it was hanging heavy, loose in his boxers. Though his flannel stayed on. Unbuttoned, fabric framing his tummy and bare, soft chest. 

You laid on his bed, splayed upon his blankets like a goddess as you awaited for him to finishing taking his clothes off. But he just couldn’t fuckin’ wait. The sight of you laying there, helpless. Those pretty, lace panties he wanted to rip off with his teeth made his brain turn to mush. He crawled on top of you, leaning down to place a hot kiss on your throat as his hands moved down to your ass. 

“Don’t got time to take you over the knee, baby.”

This sentence came with a squeeze to the soft flesh of your ass. Flipping you over belly-down with his fingers tangled in your hair. Face stuffed into the pillow.

His hand came down firm on your lace clad ass. Watching the thickness of the skin ripple. 

Again. Harder.

You let out a sharp whine at the feeling. Each left with a stinging buzz that lingered within the plush skin. You were addicted. Though, what was fun for a moment was soon boring for Mister Miller, his cock in a painful state in the confines of his boxers. Feeling like he was gonna burst any good moment now. 

But were you ready?

He flipped you back on your back in a sinfully quick motion. One of his practiced, old hands laid flat against your stomach before slipping down beneath the lace of your panties, hooking a finger to the side before pulling them down. They were damp. That just wouldn’t suffice for him. His finger tested the waters, how gluey, slick your folds were. Taking what was currently dripping out of your hole and spreading it around like a glaze. 

He dipped his head down into your sternum, his lips pressing firmly against the skin there before he deliberately moved to one of your tits. Brushing the pad of his thumb across the already hard nipple before taking it between his teeth. 

“Fuck-! Joel-”

Funny, when you touched yourself you weren’t nearly this loud. 

This sensitive. 

The tip of his tongue swirled around the bud, it was smooth against his tongue. Warmer than your skin. His hips dug down deep into his own mattress. Mussing the blankets beneath both of your bodies as if they were neat before. He squeezed your other breast with his free hand, continuing his ministries just for another moment. Keeping his moments practiced and planned for the time being. He flicked your unintended, rock-hard bud with his free hand. Mind Numbing stimulation coursing throughout your body. 

Your hand came down to paw at his erection straining painfully against the grey cotton of his boxers.

“Oh–”  

He groaned, his hips pressing into yours before you could touch more. Clamping himself down so the only way you could feel him throb would be against your thigh.

“You think you’re ready, baby? Ready for my cock?”

Of course the answer was yes. He knew the answer was yes how you were writhing, practically salivating at the thought. Both panting like dogs. He pulled himself out of his boxers. The dim light of the room making it impossible to see was was between your legs. The details left unseen and unsaid as all you could rely on was feel.

You felt his head begin running up and down between your folds. With a girl so fuckin’ wet who needed lubracant. Your eyes squeezed shut as he began to push in. 

You’ve never felt anything like it.

Funnily enough. He’s never felt a girl like you either.

“Joel!” You’d squeal. “Fuck, Joel– JoelJoelJoelJoel–”

You were quickly chanting his name under your breath like an invocation. He was big though a three-letter word so simple as big was a fucking understatement. He was stretching out every ounce of your gummy walls. Your head craning backwards into his pillow. His pillow. The scent of his hair, his scent all seeping into your nose mixing with the sensations throughout your body.

“S’fuckin’-- shit, babygirl…”

Joel’s words were slurring together as if he had drank more than those two lousy whiskeys at the bar. Your legs wrapped tight around his waist as you enveloped him. Clenching up every time the tip of his fat cock would graze your cervix. His hand pressed just over your pelvis. Feeling around, ‘til– oh fuck.

“Fuckkkkk… Feel that, baby?” You felt a lot of things right now, your body all too hyper-fixated on the feeling of him to focus on anything other than that. Then Joel took your hand. Trailing it down your stomach as he weakly supported himself with his left arm. Palm flat against the sheets. His bicep tense.

He brought your smaller hand down to your low stomach, feeling the bump there. The bump he was oh-so obsessed with. Jutting out against your palm. 

“S’my cock. Yeahhh. He wants you, s’fuckin’ bad.” 

He was barely there.

“--So. Fuckin’. Bad.”

He punctuated his words with every thrust. You wanted to call out, say something over and over again like your only fucking prayer. But words defied you in the moment. As soon as you felt the unbearable pressure build up in your gut, the pressure that took over, spilled from your pelvis to your pussy. You felt the wiry hairs that crowned his cock scratching against your clit only adding to the feeling. The feeling that was building and building. 

“Joel– I’m gonna–!”

It was so cliche. The need to finish that sentence was gone as you couldn’t control it. Feeling the knot tied so uncomfortably tightly in your pelvis untie. You tried to keep it back, hold it in but it refused. Your hips wriggled against his as your orgasm came ripping through your body. Leaning up as best you could to bury your face in his neck to gasp. Cry out into his ear as much as you well pleased as you felt your legs kick out, your thighs buzz.

His cock curved inside of you, kissing a soft spot that you weren’t even aware you had. His pace slowing, becoming sloppier, rushed. His hips snappy. The way your walls squeezed around him, trying to milk him til’ he was dry. Just wasn’t safe for an old man like him to blue-ball himself like this, huh?

“Fuck- she’s gonna milk daddy dry, ain’t she–?” He was trying to kill you.

With that it was only one more thick, deep thrust into your tight, throbbing cunt where he spilled his cum inside of you. Using what little energy he had left to paint those pretty walls white. Rolling his hips to drive his semen into your pretty little hole. His thumb pushed past your parted lips, your mouth quickly latching on. Cock-drunk, suckling on his thumb to muffle any whimpers. No more cries.

“Atta girl.”

He’d praise. His sweaty, damp body pressing heavily against yours. He didn’t wanna pull out. It’s almost like his body wanted him to stay this way until he was passin’ out. Though, he wouldn't let that happen. He slowly unsheathes his thick cock from your pussy with a wet, squelch as your walls adjust back to normal. Opaque, pearly cum dripping out of your cunt, drooling down your inner thighs all the way to your ass was pornographic. 

Reaching around the back of his head to seize a chunk of his greying, soft-to-the-touch curls. Your tongue licking his way into his mouth instead of his thumb. 

You felt absolutely and utterly euphoric. 

Laying with the blanket lazily draped over both of your bodies. Joel took a long sip from the bottle of alcohol, drinking it like water to refresh his mouth. He felt exasperated. He wouldn’t be able to pin point the last time sex made him feel this good if you were paying him a million bucks. But now he could say with you.

You tucked your face into his neck, taking in the scent of him, the stickiness of his skin. The salty scent of sex still lingering in the air around. 

It was silent. Like you were both trying to process what had happened within the last hour- hell, the last three. Even the whole bar thing seemed like an impossible daydream you’d watch on a soap, something that you’d say is unrealistic. 

“I was jealous.”

He murmured. Turning his attention back to you as the silence was officially broken. You could’ve figured as much.

“I guess I should be flattered.”

You’d giggle. Real and genuine. Not the fake one you put on for that pervert at the bar. 

“I’ve never had a man break another guy’s nose for me before.”

Joel rolled his eyes. Wrapping his warm arms around your body as he pulled you in close. The first time in twenty years his bed wasn’t empty and cold. A warm body tucked right against him, perfectly as if you belonged. 

“Don’t get used to it.” 

[pricesprincess]

Oooh may I ask for a John and Wife!Reader roleplay?? I feel like it's something he would try out to spice up their sex life with the Missus! Like he'd be kind of reluctant about it until he sees how into it Reader is heheh 👀

-✨️(if this emoji isn't taken)

smut mdni | explicit smut | alcohol but no one is drunk or even tipsy | roleplay

yes, yes, yes you may! I kinda went off on this with 2.5k wc eta I kinda went off script, was typing and blacked out to this lmaooo

"We went to a hotel and pretended not to know each other. It was a lot of fun." The actress on the flickering screen in front of John spoke as she ran her manicured fingers through her husband's hair. 

John huffed slightly, the cigar being squished between his fingers as he listened to the rest of the interview of a few dark romance authors you read from. 

They were doing Q&A's for their fans, and this one was all about roleplay, something new for you both to try out. Lately, it's been nothing but missionary, and the sex has gone stale as much as he hated to admit it, his job and duties kept him exhausted. 

It wasn't something John was proud to admit, knowing you weren't happy; it left a bitter taste in his throat as he clicked through a few more videos, gathering ideas to help the flickering dying flame. 

Most of your orgasms were self-given at this point, late at night when John was gone during a mission, which seems to be happening more and more, leaving you alone to take care of the house and yourself. 

A few days later, with his plan set in stone, the dinner table had been set with candles and takeout from your favorite place because the burnt food was now outside in the garbage with a single rose surrounded by rose petals in the middle. He wondered if this was too much, trying too hard, but he wanted you to feel loved. 

Your key slid into the lock before you pushed open the door, thankful that John was home and, this time, hopefully for a long time, his presence made the house a home, and the warmth from the furnace made you shiver as you slipped your coat and shoes off. "I'm home!" 

John stepped into the entryway, his face flushed, and sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He opened his arms, letting you fall into them with a giggle while you peppered his face with soft, sweet honey kisses. 

"I missed you so much!" You squealed and wrapped your arms around him, seeing the candles flickering in the small kitchen casting shadows across the wall that piqued your interest. "John?" 

He smiled, staying silent as he gently guided you to the dining room table you two grabbed at an estate sale a year ago before buying your shared home. Now, it's held so many memories, grooved into the wood you'd forever cherish. "Did you do something wrong?" 

Even though your voice was teasing, John's stomach churned with guilt as he pulled your chair back. He held your hand and gently kissed you, helping you sink down as you looked up at him. 

"Not' taking care of my wife," John replied, the sentence enough to make you pause, your hand hovering about the wine glass. 

You frowned, tilting your head up to look at your husband, taking his hand in yours, brushing your thumb across his coarse knuckles. "Why do you say that baby? You take real good care of me." You hummed. 

His lips twitched as he took the chair from across you, plating the food. "Haven't made you giggle or laugh in a while, haven't been home to be here like a man should, and I haven't made you cum." 

Oh. 

Your hand covered his as you looked at him, the candle flickering over your face as you cocked your head. "You've been super busy. I knew what I signed up for when I married you, honey. I don't hold it against you. Do I wish you were home more often? Yes, you're my man." 

"You're my man." Those words echoed through his head, and at that moment, it was decided that he was going to be where he belonged, but tonight wasn't about that. It was about making you feel good. 

Dinner happened with a soft hum of conversation as you ended up nestled on John's lap, your thighs draped over his as you fed each other in between slow kisses that made your toes curl. 

John's hands roamed your body, his rough palms bunching the sundress you wore to your hips. "Tomorrow night, we got plans. Come home after work." He hummed in your ear, kissing it. Once dinner was over, you and John fell into bed, naked and warm, curled together. 

Your husband's words played through your head all morning as you woke up to do your morning routine, your legs still wobbly from the way John had you bouncing on his dick like his personal toy. 

It only made you flustered, and the workday felt like forever, especially with John's teasing texts about what he had planned for the evening ahead. when the clock hit five, you zoomed from the building to your car as fast as possible. 

Excitement bubbled in your veins as you drove home. The streets were dim, and the moon brightened over the small town you and John had settled in. The porch light was dim as you pulled the car into the driveway. 

John was in the bedroom when you entered after slipping your shoes off; the grin on your face was infectious as John matched it, his hand sweeping to the bed where a dress lay, paired with your shoes. 

Your eyes drifted to the mattress to see it was the same dress you wore on your first date, a beautiful color that made your skin glow, but John did it. "What's this all for?" You asked curiously with a grin. 

"Our date, told you luv. Tonight, it's goin' to be different. We're not husband and wife, but a man in need of a pretty woman's cunt." 

His vulgar words made your jaw drop as your cunt ached, throbbing to be filled like last night, the memories making you shift in your spot as you looked at him, dressed in jeans and a button-up, the sleeves rolled up to the elbow, making him look like a snack. 

Without realizing it, you stepped forward and wrapped your arms around his neck to pull him in a heated his; his hand rested on the globes of your ass, giving it a squeeze. "So, we're strangers?" You asked, leaning back with a sly smile as you giggled softly. 

John held you as you swayed back and forth, your fingers locked behind his neck. "Yes, ma'am. You'll be sittin' at the bar alone, where I come and save you from bein' stood up. Your safeword is the same." 

The way he looked at you made your stomach flutter. Even years after being married, John had this way of making you feel the same as he did on the first date, giddy like a schoolgirl with her first crush. 

"I'll need the sadness slurped from my pussy." You teased, making him shake his head and chuckle, the sound like music to your ears. 

Once ready, John guided you to his car, opened the door, and kissed your head. Inside, you held his hand, buzzing with excitement. 

“We’re pretendin’ we don’t know each other, somethin’ new and fun,” John murmured, his voice warm like whiskey simmering in your veins, making you flush as you giggled, squeezing his hand agreeing. 

Then it hit you: John skimmed your books, which made a lot of sense when you noticed that a few were out of place months before he was deployed. “You read my smut books, didn’t you?” You teased. 

Your husband looked at you with a wink that melted you like butter in a hot pan, screaming and burning as your eagerness filled the vehicle's cabin, putting John on edge. This was something new and way out of his realm, but seeing you happy about it eased the growing tension in his chest. 

The tire crunched over gravel as he pulled into the parking lot, breaking the silence. 

John was out of the car, opening your door before you could grab the handle, his hand warm and calloused in yours as he helped you out. His other palm rested on your hip. "I'll be inside in five, luv, be a good girl and wait for me." He hummed, leaning in to kiss you, soft, tender. 

You pulled away, resting your hand on his chest and looking at him with all the affection in the world swirling in your eyes. You pecked his lips and glided your hand over his pecs before walking inside. 

Thankfully, the bar wasn't too busy, seeing that it was a Thursday night, giving you most of the bar to yourself and John, who came in through the back door, his eyes scanning the small, cozy space. 

People left you be while you ordered a glass of wine, something sweet that exploded on your taste buds, trying not to watch John from the corner of your eyes even though you could feel him staring. 

It burned a hole in you, melting straight to between your legs, your clit throbbing already. You kept your posture sad and hunched, remembering that the reason you were here was being stood up. 

Two minutes later, John was perched on the barstool next to you. His drink was already ordered when his eyes shifted to you, filled with mock concern. “What’s a pretty thing like you doin’ here all alone?”

You turned and looked at him. The instant your eyes locked, it was over. You gigglingly covered your mouth and shook your head. “Sorry. I don’t know if I can do this; you’re so…you.” You hummed.

John shook his head, his lips twitching with a smile. “Darlin’, what the hell am I supposed to do with you? And what’s that supposed to mean?” He teased, wrapping his arm around your waist when you nuzzled your forehead against his pecking his lips.

“You’re my soulmate, my man; I can’t pretend not to know you when I was riding you like a cowgirl just last night, and we’ve shared so much. It was a hot idea, but I want you as my husband.” You sighed, running your fingers through his brown roots, tugging gently. 

A deep groan rumbled through his chest, feeling your tongue glide into his mouth, tasting and licking the bourbon he ordered and sipped on.

The deep longing carved out a place in his soul, healing the cracks in him. John’s hand bunched the fabric of your dress around your waist, pulling you off the barstool and against him, leaving no room to mistake the feel the desire he felt, the hard poke against your thigh. 

Hand in hand again, John led you from the bar and outside into the cool summer breeze, your giggles breaking up the sounds of a few cars passing by while you opened the back door and guided him to the backseat slapping his ass and hearing him grunt.

John settled on the cool leather, spreading his legs as he helped you join him. He sat on his lap and leaned back while you shut the door, sealing both of you off from everyone. “You’re so handsome, so sexy.”

Your words were laced with affection and desire as your hands roamed his body, running over the soft pudge of his stomach softened by homecooked meals made with love and your spoiling. 

While you touched him, he returned the same favor, his fingers grazing under your dress, teasing, making your skin breakout in goosebumps while you humped him, grinding your cunt against him. 

The car was filled with heavy breathing and teeth-clacking kissing as your hips worked harder until John slid his hand into your panties, feeling how wet and slick you were, his fingers gliding against the lips of your cunt, making him groan again. “Fuck, sweetheart. Drippin’ for me.”

While leaning back, John sunk two thick fingers inside you with a squelch that was music to his ears; pumping them in and out at a slow pace had you feral, the teasing of his thumb against your clit ghosting.

He knew what he was doing, barely giving in until he was pressing against your g-spot, pressing his thumb down with circles, making you clench and hump his fingers this time, your hands resting on his shoulders, moaning, getting lost in the haze of it all but the flash of car lights pulling into the parking lot had you gripping his wrist.

“John!” You giggled and whined when he pulled his fingers out, his dark eyes watching as you sucked yourself off him before moving out of the backseat fixing your dress, and getting into the passenger. 

It didn’t take long for your husband to join you, his cock still hard and straining painfully against his zipper. He pressed on the gas, pulled out of the lot to drive home as quickly as possible, and John helped you out of the car, holding your hand while leading you inside. 

You both barely made it past the door before John had you pressed against the wall, his lips desperate and hungry while his hands tore at your dress until it pooled around your heeled feet. Your touch was hot, scorching against his skin as you undressed him not breaking the kiss. 

All tongue and hands, you and John ended up on the floor naked and warm, tangled together. His cock rutted against your hip as he helped you to a position of sixty-nine with you on top, still wearing your shoes. 

John didn’t give you any time to do anything before his hands were on your hips, bringing you down on his face, fully knowing he’d die a happy man if this were his last meal. Slowly, he licked a hot swipe up your cunt from your quivering hole to your swollen clit, flicking and sucking.

Your jaw went slack at the feeling as your fingers wrapped around the base of his cock before your mouth was wrapped around his leaky head, going further until you gagged, feeling the curly and hoarse hair tickling before you found a slow and teasing pace. 

It was a mess of spit and slick as you bobbed your head feeling his tongue swirl over your clit before kissing your pussy that drenched his face and beard leaving it glistening like his sack from your salvia. 

Moaning around him, the sound vibrating around his cock, making him grip your ass, forcing you to ride his face harder until your orgasm burst open, making you squeal and gag on his cock, jerking your hips. 

But that didn’t stop John; his tongue was relentless in making out with your cunt making it sticky and prolonging the cloud of pleasure. It spurred you to make him a mess, too; your tongue lavished each inch of him, spitting and jerking him off, moaning and grinding down. 

There was nothing but panting and sucking that filled the small entryway of your shared home when John felt himself tighten before spilling down your throat, making sure you swallowed all of it. 

After a long moment of sitting there with his cock still in your mouth, feeling it soften, you finally rolled off him stretching your legs with a whine. “I think we need to start stretching before sex.” You giggled. 

John chuckled, his face a mess of your cum glazing his lips. He rolled to his side, caressing your curves, lingering over your breasts, his face ruddy with the afterglow. “We’re not done yet, but you’re right, darlin’. We must stretch and move to the bed; my back is achin’.”

[wordsofyore]

Yandere Neighbor! Konig x Fem. Reader

You are used to cooking for your whole family, but now that you live alone, you find yourself inexplicably cooking more food than you need, and given the limited space in your second-hand fridge, you decide to just share the extra bites with your giant, quiet neighbor.

He's... intimidating, what with his height (seriously, you don't think you've seen anyone this tall), and the weird dark hood covering his face. But those eyes, those sad, baby blue eyes does something to you. He goes from this titan-who-can-singlehandedly-crush-your-skull image to an oversized, unloved stray dog in your mind, once you actually get to interact with him.

The poor guy seems like he's struggling to come up with a reply when you shove a whole box of freshly cooked spaghetti to his face with an apologetic smile, explaining the situation. You see his eyes widen before hesitantly accepting the dish, his calloused hand accidentally brushing against yours in the process. You can't help but feel your cheeks heat up at the contact. Clearing your throat, you take the chance to finally introduce yourself properly. He murmurs your name under his breath, and you don't question the rather strange name he gives you in return. You're curious, but decide it's best to not get too deep into someone else's business. It's good enough for you to not feel the awkwardness when you pass by each other in the hallways, exchanging nods and smiles (at least you do, anyways).

There's this one time you can't open a jar of pickles, and just as you start missing the way you could rely on your dad for things like this, you suddenly remember Konig. It's a little embarrassing, but you decide it was well worth the effort, just for the sake of satisfying your cravings. So you pad over to his door, knock twice on his door, and he's right before you, looking down at you with what you discern is a mix of curiosity and confusion. You explain your predicament, and he's immediately reaching out for the jar and opens it with a single try. You blush under his now amused gaze, thanking him under your breath before you head back to your apartment with your tail tucked between your legs (you end up sharing some food out of goodwill just a bit later).

Neighbor Konig is useful to have around, to say the very least. He fixes your leaking pipes, and kills bugs for you when you're too freaked out to go near one. You feel some reassurance knowing he's nearby, especially when you realize someone's stalking you, breaking into your apartment, and sifting through your clothes (you were sure you were missing a pair of panties or two).

It's especially scary when you wake up and find your window open all the way when you were sure you had it closed tight the night before. Your landlord merely shrugs helplessly when you ask for extra security, and they're still just as useless when some pipe bursts in your unit, leaving the place flooded and the little worldly possessions you have water-damaged. But that's when your personal hero shows up, your giant, blue-eyed neighbor, offering you a place to tuck your head in while your place gets fixed up. You can't help but hug the guy as you feel yourself break down under all the stress. In return, he says something in German as he gently pats your back.

It's... nice, to have someone around you as you settle into a temporary routine. You both cook side by side in the kitchen, share meals and stories, and watch TV or play board games in the evenings. All is well and good until you sort out the shared laundry and find the missing underwear. At least, you think it's the one you owned... but Konig was a pleasant guy, surely he wouldn't... Sure, you don't ever hear him mentioning any girlfriends or anything of the sort, but maybe, just maybe, it was something someone left behind at his place. Yeah, that could very well be the case, you shouldn't assume the worst, especially when the guy was looking out for you like this...

To Konig, you are a little ray of sunshine. A beacon of hope and light and all things sweet and fragile in his bleak existence. He had more or less accepted that he would live out the rest of his life as an outcast, ignored and feared and ridiculed. To have been noticed by a sweet, shy thing like you was already more than he deserved. To get a taste of what it'd be like to have a little wife, he should say it was enough, but... it wasn't. No, rather, it opened the gates to a chasm inside of him that wanted to devour you whole and not leave a crumb behind for anyone else.

So, please forgive him for all the things he's doing to catch you in his net. Sure, he was a dirty old colonel who kills people for money, but he sure as hell can take care of a pretty little thing like you, give you the life you deserve, free from worries about bills and shitty bosses. Free from having to deal with boys who won't treat you nice. You wouldn't mind him putting a few bullets through their heads, would you?

[detectivestucks2]

Toji as Your Ex Husband

18+ content, Minors do NOT interact

Pairing: Toji x F!Reader

Summary: Toji sees you at the park with your kid while he was on a job and becomes obsessed with seducing you into weekly quickies in the back of his car

Warnings: NSFW, oral sex, toy usage, unprotected sex, anal play, cum feeding

Word Count: 2.3k

A/N: Happy Valentine's Day!!

Ex Husband Toji who you only thought of twice as you got ready for your Valentine’s Day date. Your shimmering baby pink dress looks adorable against your skin complexion. Paired with black leather high heel boots and a leather choker, you skate the line between edgy and classy in a most seductive way.

Ex Husband Toji who you continue to push out of your mind as you finish fluffing your brows and running one last coat of mascara over your lashes. Proud of the way you look, once you stand up straight and really observe the end result, you can’t help but post a selfie of how cute your blind date look came together.

Ex Husband Toji who blows up your phone with four missed calls and eight text messages as you enter your uber, heading off to your date

You’re going on a date? Since when are you seeing someone?

What’s his name?

Don’t ignore me. Name. Now.

We’re really playing this game, huh? 

I forbid you to go out tonight. My wife isn’t slutting herself out on Valentine’s Day.

If you don’t respond to me, I’m coming to get you.

Woman, respond to me or else.

You think this is funny? Let’s see who’s laughing once I come over. 

Ex Husband Toji who’s threats you ignore, knowing he no longer has any control over your life. The Zenin lad may still call himself by your last name but he has no right to continue to soil your family’s legacy with his dirty work. 

Ex Husband Toji who secretly enabled a tracking app on your phone so he doesn’t need you to respond to his text messages. He can confront your bratty behavior at the restaurant where he plans to teach you a lesson you won’t forget. He hops on his motorcycle and rides to your location, stalking through the crowds outside several restaurants till he’s on top of you. Eyes anxiously scouring the hordes of people, he uses his height as a vantage point till he sees you, his gorgeous ex wife who had no business being here unless it’s with him. 

Ex Husband Toji who’s heart stops when he sees you with another man. Sure he’s a pretty boy, but his muscles are just for show. He obviously can fight and doesn’t know anything about protecting you. This boy can’t provide for you the way he can. You don’t need this guy, you need someone like him. Anger and desperation brew in his gut and he marches over to where you sit, ready to make a scene. 

Ex Husband Toji who scares you when he pops up next to you, “Toji! What are you doing here?!” 

“Why are you mad at me? I’m the one who’s wife is on a date with a stranger on Valentine’s Day! How could you do this to me, baby?” 

“Baby?”

“Woah, wait” your date interjects, “You’re married?!”

“No!” 

“Yes!”

“We’re not married, Toji! You know as well as I that we got divorced last year. Let it go. Move on.”

“I’m not moving on. You’re my wife. Till death do we part.” Your pulse thunders in your neck as your anger rises.

“Look, I’m not trying to get in the middle of anything.” Your date says, with his hands raised. “I just wanted to meet a nice girl, I don’t have time for whatever this is.”

“No, wait!”

But your date didn’t listen, he took out his wallet and dropped a $50 on the table before staring at Toji’s mountainous figure in horror, and scurrying off to his sports car.

“Good, now that the trash has taken itself out, we need to talk”

“No we don't, Toji. Leave me alone. Haven’t you done enough this evening?” You stand up in fury, making to leave when he snatches your wrist.

Ex Husband Toji who grips you so tightly you feel your skin bruise. His desperation makes him forget his strength as he stares at you, trying to understand what he just witnessed. You were with another man. You dressed like this for someone else. His soul felt like it had been crushed, and just like that the anger returned.  “What you did tonight is unacceptable” he fumes, “apologize.”

“Are you insane?!”

“Apologize or I will bend you over right here and give you a spanking.”

You tug at your arm, trying to free your wrist from his clutches, but his grip is too strong. You begin to whine as you realize how useless your efforts are. With a sickening smirk Toji yanks you to him and lays you over his knees. “No Toji!” you shout but the hand gripping the back of your neck is unmoving. His muscles are so massive that even his forearm is difficult to grip as you struggle. The combined efforts of both of your hands are no match and before you can do anything to stop him, Toji is striking your backside for insubordination. 

Ex Husband Toji who has you yelping and shouting in the middle of a fancy restaurant on one of the busiest nights of the year, publicly shaming you for trying to move on, and for acting like a little slut. When he feels you still haven’t learned your lesson he lifts your skirt so your bottom is barren except for the thin fabric of your lace thong. The sight begins to make him drool but his fury rages on and his palm turns the flesh fuschia before the eyes of every patron dinning nearby. 

Ex Husband Toji who is tapped on the shoulder by the restaurant’s manager, demanding Toji leave or they’re calling the cops. Rounding his shoulders and cracking his neck, Toji stands up, holding you around the waist. When you try to walk away he grips you tightly and throws you over his shoulder. “Like hell, woman. You’re coming with me.”

Ex Husband Toji who carries you to his motorcycle with you protesting the entire way. It didn’t matter how much you kicked or how hard you punched his back, he set you down on the seat of his bike like you were a toy doll and sat behind you, caging you in to make sure you wouldn’t jump off. When he starts his bike he spins out towards your home and your gut fills with rocks, knowing nothing good is going to come from this. 

Ex Husband Toji who kicks open the side door of your home as he drags you inside still protesting. He doesn’t understand why you continue to resist him when there’s no point. “Stop Toji. I’m home, okay? I’m home, there’s no guy coming. You can leave now.”

“NO! I’m not leaving. I left you too many times. I can’t do it anymore.”

Something twitches in your abdomen, something like a tiny butterfly as you see one of the most gorgeous men on this planet’s face crack with sadness at the thought of leaving you. “No, Toji.” you say softer than before. “We don’t work. We tried and this doesn’t work.”

“I’ll make it work” he says as he comes closer, hands tracing up your forearms and biceps. “Please baby. I need you.”

“You don’t need me.” you whisper as you look down. “You could have any woman you wanted.”

“Not when that woman’s you.” he whispers back.

Ex Husband Toji who brushes a strand of hair behind your ear before pulling you into a kiss. That twitch in your stomach erupts into full on butterflies and at the same time you’re kicking yourself for caving because this only ever leads to one thing…

Ex Husband Toji who tears off your dress before carrying you into the room and tossing you on the bed. You grapple at his shirt as he removes his belt, laying it on the bed before he lowers his pants, tossing them aside. Once naked, he pulls off your boots, one by one, kissing each leg as he does so. 

Ex Husband Toji who spreads your legs, cause he is the only man allowed to do so, licking and nipping your inner thighs while enjoying how you flinch from sensitivity. When his mouth finds your center he bites down on your bud, making you scream from both pain and pleasure. Your hands fly into his messy black locks, pulling him off and pushing him back into you, unable to decide what you want. His tongue flicks out of his mouth paying special attention to your nub before pointing and slotting into your center. Your head lolls back and you moan, the sound ringing in Toji’s ear like a an anthem. You grind your hips up into his mouth, fisting his hair and pushing his face into you. He won. He knew he would, but the victory is just as sweet, nonetheless. 

Ex Husband Toji who turns you into a needy puddle with his mouth before denying you your orgasm. Your upset whine brings a mischievous grin to his lips. “Not so fast, hun. We have some behavior to address.” Just as you register what he means, Toji reaches for his nearby belt and slips it around your neck, the end already threaded through the buckle. He yanks on the leather as he flips you onto your knees, letting it bite into your column. Your fingers try to slip into the loop, to release the pressure but it’s too tight. 

Ex Husband Toji who sinks his weighty girth into your dripping hole as he chokes you. “I knew a filthy slut like you would get wet from being treated like a bitch. You like your new leash? I hope so, cause you’ll be wearing it awhile.” He continues to berate you, his hips beginning to grind into you. 

His member throbs in your walls as he drags in and out of you, pushing in and retreating slowly. But it was too slow. Even though he had you drooling, you wanted more. You begin to throw your hips back and a dangerous chuckle fans your ear. “Oh, is that what you want? Okay baby. I can give you that.”

Ex Husband Toji who wraps the leather around his knuckles, tightening your leash before he pistons into you. His breathing labors and his lungs grunt. Your eyes flutter from the familiar sounds, it is all so dirty and erotic, you clench around him tighter, unable to hide your arousal. “That’s it baby. Just like that. Take this dick like the good little slut you are.” You cry out, feeling him tighten the belt again. You can barely breathe and it makes you so wet your fluids are dripping onto the bed. 

Ex Husband Toji who pounds into you, bouncing you off his pelvis as he spears your cute little cunt. Tears prick at the corners of your eyes from oxygen deprivation while the most whorish sounds fill the room. He turned you into exactly what he wanted. His slut, serving him and only him. You feel like a slave to his passions. This is how he gets you every time. This is how you ended up marrying him. He fucked you till you said yes. 

Ex Husband Toji who spanks your already red rear as he hammers into you, reminding you of the naughty girl you’ve been, trying to give this pussy to another man. This is his pussy, and no one else is allowed to touch it. He’ll make sure you remember this lesson. Manipulating you with his belt, Toji whips you over to your back and folds you in half. He pushes your feet to your ears and raises his body so he can pummel down into your folds, making you scream from the intensity. You sound so beautiful when you’re like this, all mouth and no words. You try to form them, it’s not as if there’s a lack of effort, he just gets you so good you grow dumb on his length. 

Ex Husband Toji who pulls your face up to his by fisting your hair. Your eyes scrunch in pain but at the end of the day, you like it rough. If he were more prepared he would’ve brought the whip you like, but for now he’ll settle for his hands. He tugs your face to his lips so he can kiss you feverishly. You open your mouth obediently, waiting for him to spit in it before he dives his tongue in to dance with yours. 

Ex Husband Toji who loses his composure after the kiss, becoming more beast than man as he quickens his pace and pumps into you so hard that your entire bed is rockings, scooting inch by inch across the floor from how he chases his orgasm. He doesn’t even care if you cum because 1) you didn’t earn it and 2) he knows you're going to anyway. You have a habit of finishing at the same time he does so when your velvet interior flutters around him just as a prolonged scream released from your throat, it does the trick and his seed explodes inside of you, painting your cavern white and swimming into your cervix, looking to get you pregnant before you can come to your senses. 

Ex Husband Toji who pins you down, exerting his power over you for a few more minutes, while he can. He looks down on your glazed over eyes, savoring how he can wreck your body and praying his spend finds its way to your fallopian tubes to make a baby. He needs you to get pregnant so he never has to let you go.  

Ex Husband Toji who gets to spend the night because you passed out shortly after he finished. He gets up to go to the bathroom and grabs you a washcloth, cleaning up your legs before tucking you under the bed covers. When he’s done he slips between the sheets with you, and presses his body against yours, falling asleep immediately because for the first time in months he is home and he isn’t going anywhere. 

Masterlist

[kawhh]

Anymore on Dark Quinn baby trapping you?? Like when you are very visibly showing?

Warnings: you still don't realise what's happening, so forced pregnancy. Him letting you stress and cry. Talk of medicating you. Trying to cover up the first signs.

Leading up to you showing, he'd be incredibly paranoid. He needs to protect you, protect the future legal binding to him, the golden ticket to you being his forever growing inside you.

He has to be so careful, so on top of it. You still haven't figured out that your birth control was swapped out for candy. He's spent nights soothing your concerns about your period not coming, watching as you cry and stress. Coming up with excuses for why you can't see a doctor.

Watching you cry, smoothing away your tears, showing false concern. Holding you in his arms. Keeping track of your missed periods to work out when you should start showing.

He's aware he needs an excuse for his behaviour. It's not like he can hide this from you forever. You aren't noticing the symptoms so far. You're pinning everything on the missed period concerns. Sick from stress, tired from the nights spent awake, different food choices blamed on grocery stories selling worse produce.

He's worried that you'll freak out if you find out too soon, do something drastic. He needs you to be in too deep. Needs you have no choice. Even if you freak out after the baby is born, he can medicate you a little. Make you less angry until he can soothe the situation.

He sees you slowly growing, seeing how you occasionally pause to look in the mirror, like you aren't sure. He's been giving you more food constantly, just enough to make you think that it's just extra weight. Using your stress as a cover up.

He hates leaving you alone. You won't be careful enough. Roadies drive him insane - what if you drink alcohol, what if you fall, what if you hurt yourself, what if you spend too much time thinking? If he changes anything in the apartment to make it safer for you, you might get suspicious.

9 months is going to take forever. But if it means having you forever? He'll do anything to keep you safe. Keep his babies safe.

[luffington]

stupid cupid ♡

✧.* art credit!

➤ summary: Ace's Valentine's Day gift for you was definitely not what you were expecting. (18+)

➤ pairing: portgas d. ace x afab!reader

➤ word count: 2.4k

➤ warnings: praise kink, overstimulation, creampie, established relationship, fluff, ace is a silly guy, fem reader

➤ notes: i'm finally back!!! let's pretend i posted this on valentine's day hehe

NSFW under the break! minors dni thank uuu

It was difficult to keep track of the date while out at sea and Ace never bothered to try. Timing easily escaped his one-track mind, especially when he had much more exciting things to focus on. He’d forgotten his own birthday a few weeks ago — he scratched his head in confusion when the Whitebeard Pirates threw him a party and swore it was still November.

You knew all of this, yet you couldn’t help feeling disappointed on February 14th.

No roses. No chocolates. Not even a love letter written with more heart than proper grammar. As the day went on, you grew increasingly sulky. A complete contrast to your boyfriend’s ever-cheerful exterior. Hearing his bubbly laughter across the Moby Dick’s main deck as he talked to your crew mates only worsened your mood.

When the sun had long dipped below the horizon, you officially lost hope. There was always next year, you supposed… assuming nothing happened to Ace or you before then. Terror and anxiety washed over you. Was this your only chance to celebrate Valentine’s Day with him?

Familiar muscular arms suddenly wrapped around your shoulders and a warm, bare chest pressed snugly against your back. Comforting heat melted through your increasingly dark thoughts.

“You’ve been so mopey today,” Ace whined with a cute pout. “C’mon, cheer up. It’s Valentine’s Day!”

Eyes widening, you whipped your head around as best you could in his tight embrace. “You remembered?!”

“‘Course I did! Didn’t even need Marco to remind me.” A giant grin showed how proud of himself he was.

Your brows furrowed as your mood soured instantly. Why the hell didn’t he say something earlier? He needed to wait until it was nearly midnight? However, the thing that upset you the most sounded childishly materialistic. “Why didn’t you get me a gift to celebrate?”

“What, besides true love?” Ace nuzzled into the crook of your neck, clearly joking about his sickeningly sweet words. But when your boyfriend realized he was only making the situation worse, he untangled himself from you. “I did get you something.” He sounded sincere, his gaze gentle. “I need to set it up. Meet me in our room in five �� no, ten minutes!”

His boots thudded on the deck as he sprinted off to the lower levels, leaving you alone and perplexed. This couldn’t be good. 

Anticipation built inside you until you couldn’t sit still any longer, nervously making your way towards your shared cabin. Nothing could’ve prepared you for what was inside.

Fragrant candles were strewn throughout the room, bathing everything in a warm yellow glow. Ace lounged seductively in the middle of the bed, dark hair slicked back and candlelight casting dramatic shadows across his godlike muscles. Tight white briefs left nothing to the imagination and his signature beaded necklace remained in place. 

But you couldn’t tear your eyes away from his red heart antenna headband and feathery angel wings. 

Your boyfriend smirked seductively, shifting his position to emphasize his well-defined abs and tiny waist. A noticeable bulge was forming between his legs. “See, baby? I got you your very own Cupid.” He mimicked holding a bow-and-arrow, pulling the string taut and releasing it with a ‘whoosh’. “Perfect aim! Shot you right through the heart.” 

“Ace, you’re…” 

You were truly at a loss for words. Actually, no – there was no word to describe your reaction. Your heart beat out of your chest and heat shot straight to your pussy, yet you were moments away from laughing hysterically.

With a cocky grin, Ace snapped and formed a small heart-shaped flame on his pointer finger. “The hottest angel ever?”

“...An idiot.” You shook your head in amazement, but Ace didn’t seem bothered at all by that description. Slamming the door shut, you immediately straddled his thighs and grinded down into his lap, hissing at the friction on your clothed cunt. Not even the fuzzy hearts swaying above his head could turn you off. “You’re such a fucking idiot. I can’t believe I still wanna have sex with you.”

“I knew you’d like it.” 

His plush lips met yours in a fierce and needy kiss. Throwing away the pretense of romance in favor of wet tongues lapping at each other messily. Unashamedly horny moans echoed throughout the small room, your previous frustration with him long gone. Fingers tangled in your hair as he shoved his tongue down your throat, drinking in as much of you as possible. You echoed his movement by tugging on his greasy locks, trying to stifle a laugh when the headband shifted as well. A thick string of spit connected your mouths when you finally pulled away.

“It’s okay if you didn’t get me anything,” Ace panted with a smile, hands traveling down your back to grip your ass appreciatively, the plush skin bulging around his fingers. “Fucking you is more than enough for me.”

You frowned at his assumption. “I hid a bag of candy for you under the bed.”

“Oh, sweet!” Childish joy overtook him in an instant. “Now I get two delicious presents.”

Ace easily flipped you onto your back and you sunk into the well-worn mattress underneath you. He pecked your lips quickly then got to work stripping you down. You regretted not wearing sexy lingerie to get into the Valentine’s Day spirit, but Ace didn’t even glance at your bra when he tore it off of you. With a deep moan, he wrapped his lips around one of your nipples. Sucking wetly while helping you slide off your undies. He showered your other breast in attention, making sure both nipples were soaked in spit and stiffly peaked. Your eyes fluttered shut in bliss, only to snap back open when one of his heart antenna bumped against your cheek. 

“Are you really keeping that costume on?” You giggled as he mouthed downwards along your chest.

“The god of love takes his uniform very seriously,” Ace faked being stern but was barely able to hide his amusement. His chin rested on your tummy, adorable freckled face grinning up at you. “You either fuck me in wings or not at all.”

“Fine, I’ll deal with the wings.” Motioning for him to come closer, you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him in for another kiss. Whining when he called you his good girl. A hot, rough thumb pressed down on your clit, rubbing the nub in circles then pinching it between two fingers. You bucked your hips against Ace’s hand, nerves set on fire as he expertly tugged and abused the sensitive bud. Your boyfriend pressed his nose against yours, eagerly watching your expression as you fell apart underneath him. 

Two fingers easily slid inside your cunt, which was already soaked with your arousal. Ace pumped them in and out slowly, taking his time to teasingly caress your dripping walls. Grinning when you involuntarily clenched around him. Without breaking eye contact, he sucked his fingers into his mouth and moaned lewdly.

“Fuck, princess, you always taste so good.” He slotted himself between your thighs and slid down your body, clearly on a mission to drink directly from the source. But his wings bumped against your thighs, causing both of you to giggle. Ace was still determined to make this work. “Just gotta spread ‘em a little wider, baby.”

Strong hands forced your legs uncomfortably far apart, but the aching stretch was forgotten as soon as his tongue ran up your folds. He ate you out like a starved man, burying his face in your cunt and messily mouthing at every part of you he could reach. 

“Holy shit, Ace, a-ahh…” Your boyfriend groaned enthusiastically at the praise, spurred on by the way his name sounded on your lips. Fingers rejoined his wet muscle deep inside your cunt. Ace pulled away for quick moments to murmur about how much he adored your pussy, the heart antenna bobbing along with his eager movements. 

Bucking your hips against his face uncontrollably, you came with a desperate cry of his name. Your heavenly orgasm washed away the dread that had filled you all day. Your boyfriend’s freckled face was soaked in your pussy juices and he eagerly licked his lips clean. 

Ace watched your heavy breaths begin to slow and pulled off his underwear. His lengthy cock stood hard and proud, precum already leaking from just some grinding and eating you out. You salivated, wanting to feel it deep down your throat as you gagged around it. Before you could ask, he was tapping the flushed head against your puffy clit. He ran it between your folds teasingly.

“So fucking wet,” he mused, voice deep and raspy. Admiring the way your needy hole pulsed around nothing. “Poor pussy needs me to fill her up, huh?”

You nodded dazedly, entranced by how his broad shoulders and wings were silhouetted in the flickering light. “Yes, fuck, Ace, need you so bad.”

“That’s my girl.” The fat tip of his cock wedged open your cunt and pushed inside. Both of you moaned when he bottomed out. “It’s like this cute cunt was made for me, always taking me so well.”

Your boyfriend set an unusually slow pace. Sensually rolling his hips back and forth, letting you feel every ridge and dip of his cock. Savoring how deliciously your wet walls clung to him. He hovered over you, too in love with your slutty expression to kiss you. 

You used his wings’ shoulder straps to pull him closer, giving him your best doe eyes. “Fuck me faster, please.”

Ace clicked his tongue, stilling his movements with his balls flush against your pussy. “Valentine’s Day is about romance, and slow is romantic. We’re not fucking, we’re making love.” A beat of silence passed, then he threw his head back laughing. “Who the hell am I kidding? I don’t care about shit like that. I sounded cool, though, right?”

He didn’t give you a chance to answer, suddenly pistoning his hips deep and hard. Ace was practically feral in bed, leaving you unable to do anything except take everything he had to give you with your fists clenched in the sheets. The lewd slapping of skin-on-skin filled the room and the bedframe started knocking against the wall. You moaned unashamedly every time he hit your g-spot straight on, not caring if the entire ship heard you. (Either way, they definitely knew what you were doing.)

Ace’s above-average body temperature flared even higher, dark strands of hair sticking to his sweaty forehead. All familiar signs that he was close to cumming. Suddenly, he grabbed your legs and threw them over his shoulders, forcing you into a mating press. Soft feathers tickled the back of your legs, his wings preventing you from digging your heels into the cross of his Whitebeard tattoo like usual. His dick reached impossibly deeper inside you and his thrusts became more focused, unwilling to let more than half of his cock leave your wet cunt. As if that wasn’t enough, Ace rubbed at your abused clit again, goading you on with pretty praises until you finally exploded around him. 

Thick ropes of cum flooded your insides seconds later as Ace’s head fell back with a beautiful groan. Your boyfriend kept you locked in place until you’d both come down from your highs and his warm spend had properly settled inside you. 

He grinned, kissed your forehead, then unceremoniously flipped you onto your stomach. Hoisting your hips in the air and pressing down on your back until you arched prettily. Sticky globs of cum dripped out of your cunt and down your thighs. Ace scooped everything up and pushed it back inside you. 

“Messy girl,” he chuckled, wriggling his finger around your pussy for good measure. You cried out in surprise, your cunt tightening around his digit. “Aww, is my poor baby too sensitive?”

You shook your head, willing your body to calm down. When you looked back at him, you realized his dick was already fully hard again. “No, I can take it.”

“Of course you can.” Ace tapped his heavy cock on top of your ass a few times – his obsession with it wasn’t a secret. Unable to resist giving it a playful spank afterwards. You muffled a moan into a pillow when your boyfriend slid his dick back inside you, the glide made even smoother by the filthy mix of your juices and his cum. 

Immediately resuming his rough pace, Ace gripped your hips hard enough to bruise. Heavy balls repeatedly smacking your clit, his tip nearly reaching your cervix. His thick cock stirred up his cum inside you and undoubtedly pushed it deep into your womb. Grabbing you by the roots of your hair, Ace pulled your head off of the bed and pressed his lips against yours in a wet, spit-filled kiss. Warm chest draping over your back, nipping at the crook of your neck as he rutted his hips like an animal. 

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum agai–“ Ace was cut off by his own moan, bucking his hips to ride out his orgasm. You were untouched yet overstimulated, and your own high followed soon after.

Your boyfriend pulled out and collapsed next to you on the bed, wincing exaggeratedly when the frame of his wings dug into his back. Ace cupped your cheek and kissed you slow and deep – the most honestly sensual he’d been all night.

“I’m sorry I was upset earlier,” you sighed, ashamed that you didn’t trust your own boyfriend. 

Ace chuckled loudly. “Nah, you were right! I would’ve definitely forgotten about this. I got lucky and saw these wings in a store window.” He hopped off the bed, excitedly digging under the bed for his promised bag of candy. His dark eyes lit up when he saw how much was inside.

“Thank you, baby.” He kissed the tip of your nose sweetly. “I love you so much.” Your eyes widened — it was rare for Ace to admit his feelings so openly. 

“I love you too,” you grinned sleepily. 

His freckled cheeks turned bright red, still shocked by someone saying that to him. He stifled his emotions by tearing open the bag and scooping a large handful of candy into his mouth.

“We should put out these candles before they become a fire hazard – no offense.” You stretched out your limbs, getting yourself comfortable for cuddles.

Ace shook his head stubbornly. His cheeks were puffed out like a hamster from being stuffed with chocolates and caramels. “Nuh-uh. You bought me all of this candy, so I need to return the favor. It’s only fair.”

Your eyes widened. “Y-you mean… you want another round?” His stamina was fucking insane, but your poor pussy couldn’t take much more.

A devilish grin spread across his face. “Oh, I’ll be wearing this costume all night, princess.”

[mcrdvcks]

i love you, always and forever ࿐‧₊ death by a thousand cuts

chapter summary: After trying to get pregnant for a year, you and Logan go see a fertility doctor.

word count: 5.8k+

pairing: Logan Howlett x fem!reader

notes: this is probably the shortest chapter i've wrote for this series, oops—

warnings/tags: reader wears glasses, trying for a baby, talks of pregnancy and fertility, hormones, fluff, slight angst

series masterlist - chapter 4 → chapter 6

After over a year of trying the two of you made the decision to see a fertility doctor.

You sat in the waiting room, your fingers nervously twisting the strap of your bag. Logan sat beside you, his hand resting on your knee, grounding you with his quiet presence. The sterile smell of the clinic mixed with the faint hum of fluorescent lights overhead, making the space feel too clinical, too impersonal for something so intimate.

“You okay?” Logan asked softly, his thumb brushing against your knee.

You nodded but didn’t meet his eyes. “Yeah, just... nervous, I guess.”

“Nothing to be nervous about, darlin’,” he said, his voice low and steady. “We’re just figuring out what’s what. No rush, no pressure.”

You glanced at him then, his calm demeanor easing some of the tension in your chest. “I know. It’s just... I don’t know. I feel like we’re opening Pandora’s box or something.”

Logan huffed a quiet laugh, leaning in closer. “Pandora’s box, huh? Thought you were supposed to be the scientist between us.”

You managed a small smile, your nerves settling just a little. “I am. And scientifically, Pandora’s box didn’t end well.”

“Maybe not, but we’re not dealin’ with myths here. We’re dealin’ with you and me—and we’ve faced worse than a box full of trouble, haven’t we?”

Before you could answer, the nurse called your name. You stood, Logan’s hand brushing your lower back as you followed her into the consultation room.

---

The doctor was kind, a middle-aged woman with a warm smile and a straightforward manner that you appreciated. She went over your medical history, asked a series of questions, and explained what the process would involve.

“We’ll start with some basic tests,” she said, her tone reassuring. “Blood work, ultrasounds, and a sperm analysis for Logan. From there, we’ll have a clearer picture of what’s going on.”

You glanced at Logan, half-expecting him to bristle at the mention of his part in the testing, but he surprised you by nodding without hesitation.

“Whatever we need to do,” he said simply.

The doctor’s smile widened. “That’s a great attitude. And I’ll be here to guide you through every step, okay? You’re not alone in this.”

---

After the appointment, the two of you walked back to Logan’s truck in comfortable silence. The late afternoon sun cast long shadows across the parking lot, and the crisp autumn air carried the faint scent of leaves and woodsmoke.

Logan opened the passenger door for you, waiting until you were settled before climbing in on the driver’s side. As he started the engine, he glanced over at you, his hazel eyes steady and warm.

“You feel better?” he asked.

You nodded slowly. “Yeah, I think so. The doctor was nice. She made it seem... manageable.”

“Good,” Logan said, his hand reaching out to rest on your thigh as he backed out of the parking space. “We’ll take it one step at a time. No point in gettin’ ahead of ourselves.”

You placed your hand over his, squeezing gently. “Thanks for coming with me. I know this isn’t exactly your comfort zone.”

Logan smirked, his eyes flicking to you briefly. “Darlin’, my comfort zone’s about ten feet away from a fight. This? This is easy. ‘Cause it’s for you.”

His words hit you harder than you expected, warmth spreading through your chest. You leaned over to press a quick kiss to his cheek, your glasses bumping his temple in the process.

“Thanks,” you murmured, your voice soft.

Logan gave you a small smile, his hand tightening on your thigh. “Anytime.”

---

That evening, you found yourself in the kitchen with Jean, who was chopping vegetables for dinner while you leaned against the counter, a mug of tea cradled in your hands.

“How’d it go?” Jean asked, her green eyes flicking to you as she placed the knife down.

“Good, I think,” you said, exhaling slowly. “The doctor was nice. She explained everything really well. It’s just... a lot to think about.”

Jean nodded, wiping her hands on a dish towel. “It’s normal to feel that way. But you’re not alone in this, Y/N. You’ve got Logan, and you’ve got us. Whatever you need, we’re here.”

Her words brought a small smile to your lips, and you reached out to squeeze her hand. “Thanks, Jean. That means a lot.”

“Anytime,” she said, her smile matching yours.

The sound of the front door closing signaled Logan’s return from the garage, and a moment later, he appeared in the kitchen doorway. His gaze immediately found you, and the soft look in his eyes made your chest tighten.

“You alright, sweetheart?” he asked, his voice low.

You nodded, setting your mug down and crossing the room to meet him. “Yeah. I’m good.”

Logan wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you close enough to press a kiss to your forehead. “Good,” he murmured against your skin.

Jean watched the two of you with a small smile before turning back to her vegetables, giving you the space to share the quiet moment with Logan.

---

“Rogue? What’re you doing? You aren’t my student anymore.”

You adjusted your glasses as you spotted her lingering near the hallway outside the classroom, her gloved hands tucked behind her back. She turned around, wearing a sheepish smile.

“I know, but Bobby said you’re takin’ the kids to the New York Hall of Science,” Rogue said, brushing a strand of her two-toned hair out of her face. “Thought maybe I could tag along?”

“You want to come on a field trip?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

Rogue shrugged. “Well, it’s better than sittin’ around the mansion all day. And I’ve been wantin’ to see that museum anyway.”

Before you could answer, Kitty’s head popped out from behind Rogue, her grin wide and unapologetic. “We thought it’d be fun! Plus, you could use some extra chaperones, right?”

“Extra chaperones or extra trouble?” you teased, though you couldn’t help but smile at their enthusiasm. Bobby appeared a moment later, looking far less guilty than he should have.

“We’re all adults now,” he said, a little too smugly. “Technically, we’re helping.”

You folded your arms, trying to keep your expression stern. “Technically, you’re supposed to let me know before inviting yourselves.”

“C’mon, Y/N,” Kitty said, clasping her hands dramatically. “We’ll behave, promise!”

You sighed, shaking your head. “Alright, fine. But if you distract the students or cause chaos, I’m leaving you in Queens.”

“Deal,” Rogue said quickly, already grinning.

---

The drive to the museum was lively, to say the least. The younger students buzzed with excitement, while Rogue and Kitty kept up a steady stream of commentary from the back of the bus. You tried to focus on the road, but you couldn’t help glancing in the mirror every so often, smiling at their antics.

When you finally arrived at the New York Hall of Science, the group poured out of the bus, their energy palpable. You gave them a quick rundown of the rules before leading the way inside.

The exhibits were an instant hit. The students scattered to explore interactive displays, their laughter and chatter filling the space. Rogue and Kitty stuck close to you at first, their curiosity about the exhibits almost childlike.

“This is pretty cool,” Kitty admitted, tapping the glass of a display case showcasing early quantum mechanics experiments. “Bet it’s right up your alley.”

You smiled, adjusting your glasses as you read the plaque beside it. “It’s fascinating. Physics helps us understand so much about the universe—and how much we still don’t know.”

Rogue leaned closer, examining the display. “You ever think about where we fit into all that? Mutants, I mean.”

The question caught you off guard, but you answered honestly. “All the time. I think… we’re just another piece of the puzzle. We might not always fit neatly, but we’re part of the picture.”

Rogue nodded thoughtfully, and the three of you fell into a comfortable silence as you continued exploring.

As the day went on, you felt yourself relaxing. For a few hours, the worries that had been weighing on you—doctor’s appointments, tests, and the ache of waiting—faded into the background.

By the time you returned to the mansion that evening, the students were tired but buzzing with excitement, chattering about their favorite exhibits as they spilled out of the bus. Logan was waiting for you by the front steps, his sharp gaze scanning the group until it landed on you.

“How’d it go?” he asked, his voice low as you approached him.

“Good,” you said, smiling. “No one got lost, and no one broke anything. I’d call that a win.”

Logan smirked, his hand finding the small of your back as he guided you inside. “Told ya you’d survive.”

You leaned into his touch, letting out a content sigh. “Yeah, yeah. You were right.”

“Damn straight,” he teased, his smirk softening into something more affectionate as he glanced down at you.

And just like that, the weight of the day disappeared, replaced by the quiet comfort of knowing Logan was by your side.

---

When you started taking Clomid three weeks ago, you thought it would speed things up—help you. Instead, it left you with hot flashes, cramps, and, worst of all, mood swings.

You’d read about the potential side effects, of course. The medical literature had been clear, and you prided yourself on being well-informed. But reading about it and living it were two entirely different things.

The latest mood swing hit you like a freight train when Logan entered the kitchen. He was carrying an empty coffee mug, his usual calm demeanor unbothered by the chaos of breakfast cleanup around him.

“Hey, darlin’,” he greeted, placing the mug in the sink. “You alright?”

His voice was gentle, concerned, and yet it lit a spark of irritation in you. You didn’t know why, but the question made your chest tighten.

“Do I look alright?” you snapped before you could stop yourself.

Logan blinked, taken aback. His brow furrowed, and his eyes searched your face for a clue about what had just happened. “I, uh, didn’t mean—”

“I know you didn’t mean anything,” you interrupted, pushing your glasses up the bridge of your nose. “But maybe I’m tired of people asking if I’m okay. Maybe I’m not okay, Logan. Is that what you want to hear?”

The words hung in the air, sharp and heavy, and as soon as they left your mouth, regret settled in. Logan didn’t deserve this. You knew he didn’t. But the mix of hormones and frustration bubbling inside you didn’t care.

Logan stepped closer, his expression softening. “Sweetheart,” he said quietly, his hands reaching out to rest on your arms. “Talk to me. What’s goin’ on?”

You pulled back slightly, tears pricking at your eyes. “I don’t know! I just... I feel like I’m losing my mind. This stupid Clomid is supposed to help, but all it’s doing is making me feel awful. And I hate snapping at you like this. I hate it.”

Logan’s hands slid down to yours, his grip firm and reassuring. “Hey, it’s okay. I get it. You’re dealin’ with a lot, and it’s not easy. But you’re not doin’ this alone, remember? I’m right here.”

You sniffled, looking down at your intertwined hands. “I know. I just... I hate feeling like this. Like I’m not myself.”

Logan tilted your chin up gently, forcing you to meet his eyes. “You’re still you, Y/N. You’re just dealin’ with somethin’ tough right now. And if you need to yell or cry or whatever, that’s fine. I can take it.”

A small laugh escaped you, even as tears rolled down your cheeks. “You’re too good to me.”

He smirked, his thumbs brushing your skin. “Damn right I am. Now, how about I make you some tea and we sit down for a bit? You don’t gotta push yourself so hard.”

You nodded, leaning into his touch. “Okay. Tea sounds good.”

Logan pressed a kiss to your temple before releasing you to put the kettle on. As he moved around the kitchen, the weight in your chest started to lift. You weren’t in this alone, and no matter how many mood swings or bad days came your way, Logan would be there.

---

Later that night, Logan surprised you with a hot bath. He didn’t say a word about it—just took your hand and led you to the bathroom, where he’d set up candles around the tub and filled it with steaming water and a bit of your favorite lavender bath soak.

You stared at the scene, your chest tightening with emotion. “Logan, you didn’t have to do all this.”

“Maybe not,” he said, his hands resting on your shoulders as he gently guided you toward the tub. “But I wanted to. Figured you could use a break.”

The warmth in his hazel eyes melted away any lingering guilt, and you leaned up to kiss him softly. “Thank you.”

He smirked, stepping back to let you undress. “I’ll be in the other room if you need me. Take your time.”

As you sank into the hot water, the tension in your body slowly ebbed away. You closed your eyes, letting the warmth soothe you, and for the first time in weeks, you felt like you could breathe.

---

When you emerged from the bathroom later, wrapped in one of Logan’s oversized flannels, he was waiting for you on the couch with a mug of tea and a soft blanket. He pulled you down beside him, tucking you under his arm without a word.

“I’m sorry again,” you murmured against his chest.

“Don’t need to apologize,” Logan said, his thumb tracing lazy circles on your shoulder. “Just glad you’re feelin’ a little better.”

You nodded, letting yourself relax into him. Whatever challenges lay ahead, you knew one thing for certain: Logan would be right there with you, every step of the way.

---

You’re in your bedroom folding laundry, trying to distract yourself from the mild discomfort that’s been following you all day. Logan’s boots catch your attention—the heavy leather pair sitting next to the closet instead of neatly inside it, where you’ve asked him to put them a dozen times. Something snaps.

"Why can't you just put them away, Logan?" you huff, pointing at the offending boots with all the energy of someone starting a revolution.

Logan, stretched out on the bed with a book resting on his chest, blinks at you like you’ve just spoken another language. "Darlin’, they’re not even—”

"Don’t ‘darling’ me!" you cut him off, your voice sharpening. "I’ve been cleaning all afternoon, and you can't even manage the closet! It’s right there!" You gesture toward the closet door like it's miles away instead of two feet.

He sets the book aside, sitting up slowly. “Okay.” His voice is calm, steady. “Lemme fix that.”

You cross your arms, watching as he stands, grabs the boots, and tucks them neatly inside the closet. No argument, no eye-roll, no sass. Just... compliance.

Somehow, it makes you feel worse.

By the time he turns around, your anger’s dissolved into a rush of tears that blindsides you both. Logan freezes, brows pulling together as he steps closer. "Hey, hey, what’s this now?”

You hiccup through a sob, “I’m sorry—I didn’t mean to snap! I don’t know why I’m crying; it’s so dumb—”

His hands land gently on your shoulders, and he’s looking at you with those warm, steady eyes, like nothing in the world could shake him. “It ain’t dumb,” he says firmly. "You’re just feelin’ stuff. Nothin’ wrong with that."

“I yelled at you over boots,” you whisper, mortified, pressing your hands over your face.

Logan chuckles softly and pulls you against his chest, his voice rumbling against your ear. “Yeah, well, maybe I deserved it. Don’t mean I’ll stop leavin’ ‘em out now and then, though—keepin’ you on your toes.”

You let out a watery laugh, half-hidden in his shirt. “You’re impossible.”

“But I’m yours.” He kisses the top of your head, the barest hint of a smirk tugging at his lips. “Come on. We’ll figure the rest out after we lay down for a bit. Boots’ll be here to argue about tomorrow.”

Still sniffling, you nod and let him guide you to bed, the weight of the day slowly slipping away as his arms wrap around you.

---

You grabbed your toolkit and headed to Jean’s classroom, determined to fix the sagging bookshelf that she’d mentioned Scott was supposed to take care of weeks ago. She’d been busy helping Ororo with a project, so you figured it was the perfect opportunity to step in and help out. You were midway through tightening a screw when Scott appeared in the doorway, his brows lifting slightly in surprise.

“Y/N?” he asked. “What are you doing?”

“What does it look like I’m doing?” you shot back without looking up. “Fixing this bookshelf that’s been on your to-do list since forever.”

Scott blinked, clearly taken aback. “I was gonna get to it—”

“‘Gonna’ doesn’t cut it, Scott,” you interrupted, your voice rising as you stood up and placed your hands on your hips. “Jean’s been patient, but this thing’s been wobbling like a drunk giraffe for weeks. What if a kid leaned on it and it collapsed? You’ve been too busy polishing the visor or whatever it is you do instead of actually taking care of the basics around here.”

Scott’s mouth opened and closed, his expression cycling rapidly from shock to mild indignation to confusion. “Polishing the—what? I’ve been—”

“Don’t even start,” you cut him off again, waving a screwdriver for emphasis. “This isn’t just about the bookshelf. What about the training room light that’s still flickering? Or the squeaky hinge on the front door? Or—or the fact that the coffee machine still sprays everywhere every time someone tries to make espresso? All things you said you’d take care of!”

Logan had been passing by when he heard the commotion. He stopped just outside the doorway, leaning against the frame with his arms crossed, watching the scene unfold with amused curiosity.

Scott’s face was a study in restrained emotion—shock, embarrassment, a touch of frustration. “Y/N, I—”

“Don’t!” you snapped, jabbing the screwdriver toward him. “Some of us actually follow through on our responsibilities, Summers. Jean shouldn’t have to remind you a hundred times, and I shouldn’t have to come in here and do your job for you.”

From his perch at the door, Logan chuckled under his breath. Scott shot him a quick glare, but you were too fired up to notice.

“Okay,” Scott said, his tone unusually placating. “You’re right. I’ll take care of it, alright? No need to—”

“To what? Be upset?” you interrupted, throwing your hands up. “You think I want to yell at you about this? I don’t. But someone’s gotta hold you accountable.”

Scott stood there for a moment, clearly unsure how to respond. He nodded stiffly, turned on his heel, and walked toward the door. As he passed Logan, he muttered, “Not a word.”

Logan raised his hands in mock innocence, but the smirk tugging at his lips was impossible to miss. Once Scott was gone, Logan stepped into the room, his smirk blooming into a full grin.

“Well, that was somethin’,” he said, his voice thick with amusement. “Didn’t know you had it in you, darlin’.”

You turned to him, still holding the screwdriver, your cheeks flushed. “I—I don’t know what came over me,” you stammered, the fire in your tone extinguished as quickly as it had flared. “I just... snapped.”

Logan stepped closer, taking the screwdriver from your hand and setting it aside. “Snapped is right. Poor Summers looked like he’d been run over.”

You groaned, burying your face in your hands. “Oh God, I probably scared him. I’ve never yelled at anyone like that before.”

Logan chuckled, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pulling you against his chest. “Well, you got a point about the bookshelf. And the coffee machine.”

“It’s the Clomid,” you mumbled into his shirt. “It’s making me crazy. I can’t believe I just did that.”

Logan pressed a kiss to the top of your head, his thumb rubbing soothing circles on your back. “You’re not crazy, sweetheart. Just feelin’ things a little stronger than usual. Summers’ll survive. Might even get his act together after this.”

You let out a weak laugh, peeking up at him through your glasses. “You think so?”

“Absolutely,” Logan said, his grin softening into something warmer. “And if he doesn’t, well... you’ve got me to back you up.”

You sighed, letting yourself relax against him. “Thanks, Logan.”

"Anytime, darlin’," Logan murmured, holding you close. "But maybe give me a heads-up next time before you tear into someone. I’d like a front-row seat. In fact," he paused as his hands slid under your knees, lifting you effortlessly into his arms, "I think I’d like a demonstration."

You blinked up at him, your cheeks flushing instantly. "Logan—"

"Don’t start," he teased, his grin widening as he kicked the door closed behind him. "You’ve got me all worked up, Y/N. Not every day I see you take charge like that. Hell, I’m half tempted to leave my boots out again just to see what happens."

You squirmed in his arms, though not enough to make him let go. "You’re impossible."

"And yet, you married me," he shot back, smirking. "What’s that say about you?"

"That I make questionable decisions," you quipped, but the smile tugging at your lips betrayed you.

Logan carried you into the bedroom, setting you down on the edge of the bed with a deliberate slowness that made your pulse quicken. He crouched in front of you, his hands resting lightly on your knees as his gaze met yours, warm and teasing.

"Questionable, huh?" His voice dropped slightly, the rough edge of it curling around the words. "Guess we better make somethin’ about it that’s real certain."

You swallowed hard, your heart racing as his hands slid up your thighs. "Logan..."

He leaned in, brushing his lips over yours in a kiss that started slow and deepened quickly, his hand slipping behind your neck to pull you closer. When he finally pulled back, you were breathless, your glasses slightly askew.

"You keep kissin’ me like that, and we’re never going to get anything done," you murmured, your voice softer now.

Logan smirked, reaching up to adjust your glasses with an exaggerated care that made you roll your eyes. "Who says we’re not gettin’ somethin’ done? We got work to do, darlin’."

"Work," you echoed, half-laughing. "That’s one way to put it."

He stood, pulling you to your feet with him, his hands warm and steady against your hips. "You’ve been stressin’ over all this, Y/N. We’re in this together, yeah? You and me. No matter how long it takes."

You nodded, feeling the tension in your chest ease slightly. "I know. I just... I don’t want to let you down."

Logan’s expression softened, and he cupped your face in his hands, his thumbs brushing over your cheeks. "You could never let me down. Got it?"

"Got it," you whispered, leaning into his touch.

"Good." He grinned then, a wicked glint in his eye as he pulled you closer. "Now, how ‘bout that demonstration?"

Before you could answer, he kissed you again, slower this time, his hands slipping to the small of your back. You melted against him, letting his warmth and steady presence ground you. Whatever came next, you knew you were in this together.

---

Kitty poked her head into your classroom, right now it was in between periods, students trickling in and out of classrooms. “Hey! I wanted to ask you ‘bout that article you recommended…”

You hummed, an ice pack pressed against the back of your neck. “Yeah? What about it?”

Kitty stepped further into the room, her usual bounce tempered by curiosity. “So, I read that article you told me about—the one on quantum superposition and neural networks? It was fascinating, but I got stuck on the part about entanglement thresholds. Like, how do you measure that without collapsing the system?”

You smiled despite the warmth blooming uncomfortably along your collarbone. “Good question. It’s tricky because you’re working with systems that are inherently unstable. The key is minimizing external interference—usually through isolated environments and precise calculations. I could lend you a book that explains it better.”

Kitty nodded enthusiastically. “That’d be awesome! I’m trying to connect it to this idea I had about alternate timelines—like, how they intersect and... hey, are you okay?”

Her sudden shift in tone made you blink. “What?”

“You look kind of flushed,” Kitty said, tilting her head. “And you’ve got an ice pack. Are you sick?”

You waved a hand, brushing off her concern. “I’m fine. Just a hot flash.”

Kitty’s eyes widened slightly. “Oh. Ohhh. Is it... you know... related to the Clomid?”

You nodded, feeling your cheeks heat even more—not from the hormones this time. “Yeah. Side effects are no joke.”

Kitty frowned sympathetically. “That sucks. Anything I can do to help?”

“Not unless you’ve invented air-conditioning I can carry in my pocket,” you joked lightly. “But thanks, Kitty. I appreciate it.”

She smiled, though her eyes were still tinged with concern. “Anytime. And hey, if you need a distraction, I’m always up for more physics talk.”

“Noted,” you said, smiling back. “Now, get out of here before you’re late to your next session.”

Kitty grinned and backed toward the door. “Alright, alright. But seriously—take it easy, Y/N.”

As she left, you leaned back in your chair, letting the ice pack cool your neck. The day felt like it was stretching on forever.

---

Later that afternoon, you were walking down the hallway, carrying a stack of freshly graded papers for your advanced physics students. Logan’s heavy footsteps caught your attention before you saw him, and you weren’t surprised when he appeared at your side, his usual scowl softening the moment he looked at you.

“Here.” He reached out and took the stack of papers from your hands without waiting for permission.

You gave him a small smile. “I can handle it, Logan.”

“Yeah, I know,” he said, his tone gruff but affectionate. “Doesn’t mean you gotta.”

Before you could respond, he pulled something from his jacket pocket—a small, folding hand fan. With a flick of his wrist, he opened it and started fanning you as you walked.

You stopped in your tracks, staring at him. “Logan. What are you doing?”

“Coolin’ you down,” he said simply, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

“Where did you even get that?”

“Picked it up from Jubilee,” he said with a smirk. “She’s got a stash of these things. Said they’re ‘aesthetic.’ Whatever the hell that means.”

You laughed despite yourself, shaking your head. “Logan, I’m fine. You don’t have to—”

“Don’t start,” he interrupted, fanning you with slow, deliberate strokes. “You’re dealin’ with enough. Let me help.”

Further down the hall, Bobby and Rogue were leaning against a locker, their conversation trailing off as they watched the scene unfold.

“Is... is he fanning her?” Bobby asked, his tone equal parts disbelief and amusement.

“Looks like it,” Rogue said, her Southern drawl soft with surprise. “That’s... kinda sweet, actually.”

“Sweet?” Bobby snorted. “It’s Logan. The guy who growls at people for breathing too loud. And now he’s walking around with a fan like he’s auditioning for Pride and Prejudice.”

“Maybe he’s just different with her,” Rogue suggested, her gaze lingering on the way Logan’s expression softened as he looked at you.

Bobby raised an eyebrow. “Different how?”

“Just... softer,” Rogue said, a small smile tugging at her lips.

---

By the time you reached your classroom, the fan had done its job, and you felt marginally less like you were melting. Logan set the papers on your desk and tucked the fan back into his jacket.

“Thanks,” you said softly, adjusting your glasses as you looked up at him.

Logan shrugged, but the corner of his mouth twitched in a way that told you he was pleased. “Anytime, darlin’.”

As he turned to leave, he paused in the doorway, glancing back at you. “Oh, and don’t forget—peppermints are in my other pocket if you need ‘em. For the nausea.”

You felt your heart swell at the gesture, even as you shook your head in exasperation. “You spoil me, you know that?”

“Damn right I do,” he said with a smirk before disappearing down the hall.

You sighed, a soft smile lingering on your lips as you turned back to your work. Whatever challenges this journey threw your way, Logan’s steady presence made every step feel a little lighter.

---

You didn’t train much, your powers weren’t exactly something you could easily fight with. So while you occasionally participated in the Danger Room sessions you rarely hit the gym.

But in all your research, exercise is supposed to help with your fertility. Which is why you started training with Ororo rather than Logan—after last time that was never happening again.

You adjusted your glasses as you pushed open the heavy door to the gym. The faint clang of metal weights and the low murmur of conversation met your ears. You weren’t here to train, of course—you were looking for Jean, who’d promised to help you reorganize some of the chaos in your physics lab. She’d mentioned something about hitting the gym with Scott earlier, so it was your best bet for tracking her down.

Your plan to slip in and out unnoticed, however, derailed the moment you spotted Logan. He was leaning against the boxing ring ropes, wiping sweat from his brow after what looked like an intense sparring session with Scott, who was already halfway out the door. Logan glanced up, his sharp gaze locking onto you before his lips quirked into that familiar smirk.

“Look who’s wandered into enemy territory,” he teased, straightening up.

“I’m not here for this,” you said quickly, waving your hand at the gym in general. “I’m just looking for Jean.”

Logan grabbed a towel from the corner and draped it over his neck, taking slow steps toward you. “Jean left about ten minutes ago. You missed her.”

Your shoulders slumped. “Of course, she did. That’s my luck today.”

“Well, since you’re here,” he said, his tone shifting, “why don’t you step in the ring with me for a bit?”

You blinked at him, startled. “Logan, we’ve been over this. Last time I ‘trained’ with you, you nearly broke my wrist.”

“That was a love tap, and you know it.” His smirk widened, but his eyes softened in a way that made your heart flip. “Come on. Humor me, darlin’. It’s not every day you wander in here.”

You hesitated, glancing around. “Logan, I’m not exactly dressed for—”

“You don’t need to be dressed for anything fancy. Just step in the ring and show me what you’ve been learning with ‘Ro,” he interrupted, gesturing toward the ropes.

Your head tilted in confusion. “You… know I’ve been training with Ororo?”

He crossed his arms. “Course I do. I ain’t blind, sweetheart. I’ve been lettin’ you do your thing, but I’m curious now. So, get up here and show me.”

There was no talking him out of it—you knew that look all too well. With a sigh, you handed off your things to a nearby bench and climbed into the ring. Logan watched, waiting patiently as you faced him.

“I haven’t been learning much,” you admitted. “Mostly just stuff to keep me… in shape.”

“That so?” He took a step closer. “Guess I’ll be the judge of that. Come at me.”

Your cheeks flushed. “You can’t be serious.”

“As a heart attack.”

With a resigned sigh, you brought your hands up, recalling the basic stance Ororo had drilled into you. Logan’s brow quirked approvingly.

“Not bad,” he said. “Now throw a punch.”

You hesitated, then jabbed toward him. He deflected it easily, nodding for you to try again. The first few attempts felt clumsy, but his corrections were patient, guiding you through the motions until you gained a rhythm.

“Alright, not bad at all,” he said after a few minutes. “Now let’s add some flair. Show me somethin’ you’ve picked up from Ororo.”

You inhaled deeply, your nerves threatening to surface. “Okay, but… you asked for this.”

With that, you stepped back slightly, feinted a jab, and then leaped toward him. Your legs hooked around his neck, and with a sudden twist, you executed a move Ororo had shown you in one of your sessions. Logan’s body slammed to the mat, your weight holding him down as your thighs pinned him firmly.

For a long moment, there was silence, save for your panting breaths. Your arms braced against the floor for balance as your legs stayed locked around his neck. Logan’s hands instinctively came up to grip your calves, his calloused palms firm but cautious, as though testing if the moment was real.

“Where the hell did you learn that?” Logan’s voice was hoarse, slightly winded, though his lips curved into an almost feral grin.

“Ororo,” you answered, surprised at your own breathlessness. “She said… it’s a last-resort thing.”

Logan laughed, a rich sound that sent heat to your cheeks. His grip shifted slightly, his thumb brushing your skin in a way that made you hyperaware of the position you were in. “Not bad for someone who claims she doesn’t know much.”

Your cheeks flamed, and your confidence faltered. “I—I wasn’t trying to—”

“Don’t backpedal now,” Logan interrupted, his grin widening. “This is somethin’ else.”

You stared at him, your glasses sliding slightly down your nose, and for a heartbeat, neither of you moved. His hands remained on your legs, his touch warm and grounding, and it occurred to you just how close you were.

“Uh, should I… let you up now?” you asked awkwardly.

“Probably,” Logan said, though there was a glint of mischief in his eyes. He made no immediate effort to move, and for a moment longer, the tension thickened.

Finally, you unlocked your legs and scrambled off him, adjusting your glasses with a nervous laugh. Logan got to his feet with his usual grace, his smirk still firmly in place.

“Y’know,” he drawled, “next time, don’t wait so long to show me somethin’ like that. Hell of a way to knock me on my ass.”

You rolled your eyes, your shyness kicking back in full force. “Yeah, yeah. Don’t expect it to happen again.”

“No promises, darlin’,” he said, his tone playful but his eyes watching you with unmistakable fondness.

and that is 2006!

i wanted to give a little clarity about reader's trouble conceiving. i actually briefly hinted to it in with you i'm free. i know there are a lot of women who have trouble conceiving because of various issues.

anyways, i'm not going to specify what 'condition' reader has or why she's having trouble because i want people to be able to insert themselves in her shoes, whether they have something like endometriosis, pcos, something else, or nothing at all!

as someone who has a lot of medical issues myself, one medical problem i have would make me a high-risk pregnancy. though i am not worried in the slightest because i'm 20, never dated, and the thought of children makes my skin crawl.

sorry for the rant, just thought i'd share why i'm writing this the way i am :)

[shineon3]

A little something I wrote for the lovely @33max :3 (set in my wip mafia au)

Max hasn't seen his husband in a week.

One whole week.

A year ago, it wouldn't have mattered for him. He wouldn't have cared about Daniel's work or about being left alone for too long, would’ve probably been happy about it, even.

But that was a year ago.

Now, Max acutely feels the absence of his husband, feels the emptiness the older’s laugh usually fills, and even Jimmy and Sassy notice something is off after a while.

So he spends his days glued on the sim, the comforting, familiar routine of online races helping him clear his mind - and forget about the way Daniel had cupped his cock through his shorts and whispered sweetly “No coming while I'm away, baby, capiche?” in his ear before leaving for his trip.

Max groans, narrowly avoiding a collision. He can feel his cock twitching, hardening in his shorts, and he barely resists the urge to sneak a hand down to give it a small squeeze, because he knows Daniel will probably be watching through the house's numerous cameras, and Max wasn't ready to face the consequences of being a brat. He shudders, thinking about the last time Daniel had to punish him. It had been absolute torture. Daniel had put a cock cage on him, and Max hadn't been allowed to come for so long he felt insane by the time Daniel allowed him to.

Anyways.

Max spends the rest of his day like this, on the sim, trying to forget about how good it feels when his cock rubs against the soft material of his boxers, how much better it would feel if he was rubbing against one of their soft, expensive pillows instead, how-

It's tough, to say the least, but he manages to last another day, and he only had to change his underwear once, when the precum soaking it became a bit too sticky to be enjoyable.

Around ten pm, he decides he should probably make some dinner for himself. Jimmy and Sassy follow him to the kitchen, playfully running around his feet while he tries to cook some pasta and making him giggle. He's standing at the stove, slowly stirring the sauce, when he feels a warm weight press against his back. Arms wrap tightly around his waist, a firm thigh presses between his legs, and Max immediately relaxes, letting a soft moan out.

There’s only one other person able to get in their home, after all.

“Hi, baby,” Daniel’s voice is a low rumble whispered right against his ear, sending a shiver down Max’s spine. “Did you miss me, hm?”

Max makes sure to turn off the stove before he does something stupid, like leaving the sauce to burn while he rides Daniel right here on the kitchen floor. He turns around, finally, finally facing his husband, and grins so wide his cheeks start to hurt before leaning in to kiss Daniel senseless. They slot perfectly against each other, like two puzzle pieces, the brunette’s tongue immediately invading Max’s mouth as he melts in the older’s embrace. Daniel’s body is caging him against the kitchen counter, his thigh between Max’s legs providing the perfect amount of friction, and Max can feel his cock harden, leaking like a tap in his boxers. They make out for what seems like an eternity, until Daniel pulls away, hands tightening around Max, effectively stopping the blonde’s rabbiting hips, making him whine.

“Nuh-uh, sweetheart,” Daniel croons, tucking his face in the crook of Max’s neck and peppering kisses there. “I want to properly take care of you tonight. You deserve it, my good boy.”

And then, Daniel does something that will never not be obscenely hot for Max. The brunette picks him up, just like that, as if he weighs absolutely nothing, and sets him up on the kitchen island, practically spreading him all over it. Max moans, his whole face feeling flushed, and he hooks his thighs around Daniel, pulling him closer. It feels like an out of the body experience, that he gets to have Daniel like this, and it makes Max a bit dizzy every time he remembers that this man, this handsome, dangerous man is his, just as much as Max is Daniel’s in all the ways possible.

“Daniel, Danny, please- I was good, promise, I was-!”

“I know you were, darling. You were so good for me, and I’m gonna give you your reward now.”

Daniel pushes Max’s thighs open, and Max lets him, all pliant for his husband. He doesn’t know what the older has in mind, doesn’t realise it until Daniel kneels in front of him, right in front of Max’s clothed cock. He mouths at the little bulge through the fabric of Max’s shorts, getting it slightly damp, and Max shakes on the counter, moaning so loudly he would feel bad for their neighbours if they had any.

And then.

Then, Max feels his cock twitch in the safe confines of his underwear, kick kick kicking until it blurts out rope after rope of cum, soaking the soft cotton with all he had saved for Daniel. He whines, embarrassed, his hands flying up to hide his face. He can hear Daniel getting up, the older’s hand brushing against his hip before carefully pulling Max’s hands out of his face.

“Baby, fuck- That was so hot. You couldn’t keep it in, could you, sweetheart?”

Max whines again, heat spreading through him at his husband’s words.

“That’s okay, darling. Daddy’s gonna take care of you now, ‘kay?”

Daniel scoops him up in his arms, making his way to their bedroom, and Max curls up against his chest, looking forward to the rest of what the brunette had planned for them.

[cryinggirlnamedhelen]

the day you left michael kaiser was the day you died.

you didn’t lose your life, but you surely lost your heart. too many pieces of it had been left fragmented and taken by kaiser for you to be able to fix it ever again. you were only seventeen, and yet it felt like you’ve gone through a lifetime of heartbreak. leaving kaiser was both the most divine gift you have ever given yourself, but also the greatest mistake you have ever committed.

you had met him when you were five. round, rosy cheeks from the frosty winter air were covered in fat tears. you had gotten lost, and you couldn’t find you parents. eventually, you reached the neighborhood park. crouching in the wood chips, with grime and bruises littering his body, was a young michael kaiser of the same age.

he had never spoken to anyone his age, let alone a girl. when you shoved yourself down onto the near frozen swing, still sobbing and sniffling like a baby, kaiser didn’t know what to do. in the end, with his broken grammar and rude words, kaiser wanted to comfort you. he want to try to stop you from crying; after all, it reminded him of himself whenever his father beat and choked him. “what the fuck are you crying about? you look disgusting.”

if kaiser knew gentle words, he would have spoken them. if he knew a lullaby, he would have hummed it. if he knew how to comfort someone, he would have done so. but at age five, he didn’t know anything but swear words. after all, those were the only things that he father ever communicated to him in. at his words, you only sobbed harder. “s-shut up!” kaiser exclaimed. however, you quickly stopped crying once the realization hit you: he wasn’t angry at you.

“i-i’m sorry. i just can’t find my mama and dad.” you whimpered. kaiser nodded. you wiped your tears away, teardrops nearly frozen from the cold. kaiser pointed to a large building next to a collection of houses.

“there’s a shitty station there. a useless piece of shit like you should go there.” kaiser muttered, his voice peculiarly calm for someone who is uttering the nastiest of words. you only blinked a few times in confusion at his vulgarity before grinning brightly, your tears having all been wiped away, and thanked him.

at that moment, you both fell in love with the other. it was only supposed to be a stupid childhood crush that would last a month or two; it wasn’t supposed to be serious. it was just supposed to be cute and temporary.

if only that was the case.

after that day, you continued to visit kaiser every day at the park with a bag of bread from the neighborhood bakery. bread made from garlic salt and sugar and buttery, still warm and soft. for years, you never dared to ask why kaiser was always having fresh new wounds painted on his every day. only years later, at thirteen, did he finally tell you about his family life. you wanted to tell the police, but kaiser swore that he would rather die than end up as an orphan.

when he was fifteen, he got arrested. you knew that it wasn’t him; it wasn’t his fault. he would never steal from a jewelry store. you knew he stole, but he didn’t care about superficial riches like jewels and gold. you waited outside of the police department for two whole days without food and sleep, waiting for kaiser to have his name cleared. finally, some soccer scouter managed to bail him out.

that was the day you started dating kaiser.

he began playing for bastard münchen only a week after his release. you stood by his side, always supporting him, and being next to him, always loving him, always making sure that he knew you love him. at first, kaiser was almost the same, although much more rude to his new teammates. but he still remained as soft as he could with you, never raising his voice or a hand with you.

he began to change at sixteen.

he was cold; distant, even. he still loved you, you knew that for a fact. but soccer was always the only thing on his mind. you knew that he was justified; after all, soccer brought him self-satisfaction and love. he felt human if he played soccer, and you could understand why he was so obsessed with soccer. but not to the point where it was detrimental to his health.

kaiser choked himself.

you always knew that he hurt himself, but you always stopped him the moment you caught him, always begging for him to stop, and that he mustn’t do something like that. you begged for him to take therapy sessions, go to a psychiatrist, something, anything. kaiser only shrugged off your concerns and told you that you worried too much. but the moment you caught kaiser’s fingers wrapped tightly around his throat, unable to breathe and saliva escaping from his lips, you knew that he’s gone too far.

you had come up to him, begged him to stop. pulled his fingers away from his throat by force. after an hour of coaxing and coddling, he finally stopped for a week before continuing again. you knew that it wasn’t your problem to deal with, but you still felt so guilty about it.

kaiser told you that he loved you that night.

you dealt with him for another year. he was still so superficially obsessed with soccer; obsessed with crushing and destroying his opponents like the opposing teams on a chessboard. but you couldn’t bear it, he was nothing short of cruel to ness, and he was just like a monster when he was playing against another team. he smiled when someone on the opposing team started crying. he never treated you like that, but you didn’t want to take any chances. you knew that he would treat you just like that soon enough.

that day, you broke it off with him.

you knew that it would hurt you both, you knew that this decision would haunt your days forever. but you couldn’t deal with this anymore. you couldn’t continue to see the boy you loved spiral into insanity, with all of your efforts and begs going to waste. you were too horrified to tell him in person, so you only left a note.

over half of your once shared apartment’s furniture was destroyed that night after kaiser read the note.

he truly went insane. the one person who he ever truly loved, the one person who ever loved him, the only person who comforted him through his shitty childhood, gone and only leaving him a note. he went insane trying to find you; he texted you millions of times, called you and facetimed you thousands of times, but you never responded.

and now, at age twenty, kaiser still never moved on from you.

during matches, his eyes always scan the stands, thinking that maybe you’d come. maybe you got bored, or maybe you wanted to mock him, maybe you wanted him back, or maybe you just wanted to beat the crap out of him after drinking a bit too much. whatever the reason, kaiser just wants to see you happy. he wants to see you laughing. he doesn’t care if you don’t take him back; as long as you’re safe and happy and healthy, then he’ll be fine.

you weren’t fine. college was killing you, and you were still a virgin who never went out to parties. you still silently watched over kaiser; searching up his name often, reading news articles about him, and watching clips and videos of him on youtube. seeing him healthy made you happy, even if he wasn’t constantly in the best emotional state, especially in that strange blue lock facility that he went to when he was nineteen.

january twenty-sixth.

not only was bastard münchen playing against fc barcha today, but it also marked the fifteenth anniversary of when you and kaiser first met when you were both only five. today was the day where you decided that for the first time in three years, you would go see kaiser play. just as a physical to see if he was okay, and for no other reason. no, this because you missed him. no, this wasn’t because you were still in love with him and just wanted to see him again and wanted to know if he still loved you. surely, he wouldn’t even see you. nope, nope, not at all.

at least, that was what you hoped.

you sat in your plastic blue seat of the stadium, waiting to see kaiser again. you weren’t used to this; you were always in vip seats at his game, and this was the first time you weren’t. oh well, it was still watching the same game at the end of the day. plus, vip seating would only make it easier for kaiser to see you.

as kaiser stepped out and onto the plastic green grass, his eyes scanned the crowd once again. this would be the last time he will ever do this; if you’re not even going to be here today, then he’s sure that you’ll truly never attend any of his games. he knows you best and you know him best, after all.

left to middle. no sign of a goddess like beauty anywhere, so you weren’t there. middle section. no sign of an angel anywhere either, so you weren’t there. finally, there was only the right left. please, kaiser begged that you would be there. even if you were on your phone the entire match, kaiser couldn’t care less.

one by one, his eyes drifted through the crowd as he nearly reached the end. his eyes slowly dimmed; were you really not there? was he really never going to see the love of his life again? but then he reached the end, and his eyes widened, glimmering underneath the sunlight. and despite the fact that it was a harsh winter, the warmth and love in his eyes could melt all of the ice and snow outside.

it was you.

your eyes locked for a moment, and in that moment, there was no one else. for a moment, soccer didn’t even matter. it was just you and him. he mouthed your name, your eyes widening a fraction, before you turned red and looked away. kaiser almost laughed out loud before walking away to the center of the stadium, feeling as if he could score fifty goals. you really came; he really got to see you again.

during the match, every damn time kaiser scored a goal, he always made some sort of gesture to you, whether it’d be blowing a kiss to you or waving to you or just staring intently at you, the media went crazy over it—because it was just so obvious that those gestures were meant for you.

after the match, you walked through the stadium as quickly as you could, wanting to leave and not wanting to get bombarded by the media. you completed your task; you came to see if kaiser was okay. and he clearly was perfectly fine, so you had nothing to worry about.

that was until you felt the calloused grasp of a hand on yours.

it’s been three years, but you could recognize that feeling anywhere. the exact same way of lacing your fingers together, the exact same warmth and same feeling. the exact same hand.

mihya’s hand.

you turned around in a flash, tears brimming at your eyes unknowingly. why were you crying? you weren’t supposed to get emotional over seeing him again. not until you saw the tears stinging mihya’s eyes, tears glossing over his eyes like the most expensive and yet beautiful porcelain china.

your mihya.

“mihya…?” you mumbled, your voice the hum of a lullaby. you expected yells if this were to happen, you expected interrogations and questions and threats, you expected blackmail, you even expected to get hit by him.

but none of that came.

only the feeling of another hand tilting your chin up before cerulean eyes glimpsed into yours, looking at you as if you were the most precious and beautiful thing in the world.

“you’re as beautiful as the day i lost you.”

a/n: YES A HOW TO TRAIN YOUR DRAGON REFERENCE EEEEEE

[itshonestlynotme]

Mom and Dad.

While Regulus is at work, Y/N brings Harry to his parents' grave.

[Regulus Black x Fem Potter!reader]

word count: 558 words.

warnings: Angst, mentions of death

note: This is the fourth chapter of my Potter-Black series but Regulus is hardly mentioned. This is because the chapter is focused on Harry, Y/N, Lily, and James.

-

The morning was crisp, the air carrying the scent of damp earth as Y/N wrapped Harry’s scarf snugly around his small frame. The autumn leaves crunched beneath their feet as they walked up the familiar path leading to the graveyard in Godric’s Hollow.

Regulus was at the Ministry, drowning in paperwork, leaving Y/N with the quiet decision to visit her brother alone—well, almost alone.

Harry, bundled up in his coat and mittens, clutched her hand tightly. “Mama,” he asked, his voice soft, “why are we here?”

Y/N knelt beside him, brushing a few stray leaves from his curls. “We’re visiting your parents, love.”

Harry’s brow furrowed slightly, his young mind trying to piece it together. “My real mummy and daddy?”

Y/N swallowed past the lump in her throat and nodded. “Yes. Your Mama Lily and Daddy James.”

Harry’s grip on her hand tightened as he looked around. “But I never met them,” he whispered.

Y/N gave him a sad smile. “No, sweetheart. You were just a baby.” She cupped his cheek gently. “But they loved you so much.”

Hand in hand, they walked through the graveyard, past old, weathered headstones, until they reached the one she knew by heart.

Y/N let out a slow breath, kneeling before the headstone. Harry hesitated before mirroring her, his tiny fingers tracing the carved letters of their names.

“James Potter…” he murmured, then looked up at Y/N. “That’s my name too, right?”

She smiled softly. “Yes, love. Harry James Potter. Your daddy wanted you to have his name.”

Harry was quiet for a moment, then looked back at the grave. “Do you think he’d like me?” he asked hesitantly. “Daddy James?”

Y/N’s heart clenched, and she pulled him into a hug. “Oh, Harry,” she whispered, pressing a kiss to his forehead. “He would have adored you. You’re just like him—kind, brave, full of mischief.” She chuckled softly, stroking his messy black hair. “And you have your mama’s heart. So full of love.”

Harry’s little arms wrapped around her neck. “I wish I could meet them.”

Y/N closed her eyes against the sting of tears. “I know, sweetheart. Me too.”

For a long moment, they sat in silence, Y/N’s arms wrapped protectively around the little boy she had sworn to raise, to love, to keep safe.

After a while, Harry shifted in her embrace. “Do you think they can see me?”

Y/N let out a soft breath, glancing up at the sky. “I do,” she said firmly. “I think they watch over you every single day.”

Harry thought about that, then looked back at the grave. After a moment, he reached into his coat pocket and pulled something out.

A small, slightly battered toy stag.

His favorite.

Carefully, he placed it at the base of the headstone, patting it gently.

“You can have Prongsie,” he whispered. “I think you’d like him.”

Y/N had to bite her lip to keep herself from crying.

As the wind rustled through the trees, Harry turned back to her and asked, “Can we come back again?”

Y/N smiled, cupping his face. “Of course, love. As many times as you want.”

She took his hand once more, pressing one last kiss to the headstone before leading him away.

As they left, the autumn wind carried the sound of distant laughter, like a whisper of the past. And for the first time in a long time, Y/N swore she could feel her brother’s presence—warm, watching, proud.

-

previous chapter <- -> next chapter

[officialjada]

Sukuna x FEM reader

(Toxic relationship.. Of course it's Sukuna)

Love, it was an emotion you held with delicately and close. You never once let anyone take it away from you, you just was keeping it safe as much as you could.

That was until you met him. Sukuna, a man who held violence and rage close to his heart rather than love. Yet he found you interesting so he said. Highschool was supposed to be your escape from him and his other 'friends'.

They would torment you, however Sukuna was worse. He would beat you, shame, touch you, yell at you, what ever you name it. You never felt safe, so when you traveled with your parents, you never came back.

Highschool was a different situation, about your 2nd year he came to fool with you again. His annoying smirk that held nothing but rage and glee. His red eyes pearing into your soul as if he had found his lost toy.

"Thought I would never find you again N/N."

And his torment started once again. And he had managed to make everyone think that you both were dating.

You couldn't take it anymore, everytime you would see him you would move the other way as tears slowly formed in your eyes. It seemed like love was slowly dropping from your hands, replacing itself with fear and sorrow.

Yet you couldn't move as your parents jobs would never allow it, so you suffered silently again.

☆

"Y/n, your grades are slipping again. You're losing sleep and you bearly talk to me again." A soft voice spoke, her hands cuffing your face as she looks into your eyes. Her (e/c) colored ones shines softly as her limp holds a frown. "My baby." She whispered, tears softly formed in her eyes as she continued to look at you.

"Please tell me if something's bothering you. Am here for a reason."

"Mama." You mumbled, voice softly cracks as you blinked. You leaned in and gave her a hug, it really has been awhile since you had given her a hug. You missed that warmth, that love she gave to you. "I missed you, your love your warmth. I really missed you mom." And she hugged back.

☆

"You told your mom about me huh?" Sukuna asked, his grin growing as you slowly backed up. Your eyes were wide as you took multiple deep breaths yet it seemed you couldn't calm down. "You're supposed to be suspended!" You yelped, pushing your self back until the environment turned black. And that's when you realized that you were set up in a trap.

You rubbed your button on your cardigan softly, eyes never once leaving the male in front of you.

"Can't I just give my girlfriend a Valentine gift?"

He rushed forward, locking you in place. His hand just slightly above your head, pulling on your hair as he looks excited. "I got suspended because of you. I didn't really like how my girlfriend was all alone. Any guy could've taken her."

Tears filled your eyes as you shook your head left to right. "No please, j..just let me go." You answered, fear tugging at you as you try to piece together what was he going to do.

He leaned in, his third arm holding your waist as his 4th took hold of your face. Pulling it to him as he squash the face fat to poke out your lips. And he drove right in.

"Happy Valentines Day."

A very late Valentine's day gift, so I thought I would've just do Sukuna's part with it. So here you go!

[e-dubbc11]

A Pizza His Heart

Photos are not mine. They are courtesy of Pinterest/Google.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x F! Reader

Warnings: Implied smexy time but PG-13 for the most part, smooches, fluffy bunnies and unicorns. Maybe a swear word or two.

Word Count: 2.1K-ish

Summary: You never really understood the hype around Valentine’s Day and maybe you were a bit cynical because you’ve never had a valentine but maybe it will be different this year. ♥️

A/N: I know, I know…the title is wicked cheesy(see what I did there? 🤣) Ok, I’m done with the Dad jokes. I just thought this would be a fun little idea, so happy Valentine’s Day to all my lovely friends out there! I kiss you all on the forehead💋💋♥️♥️ I took elements from one of my favorite episodes, Season 9, episode 12 The Purge(“A fish taco?”).

As always, thank you for reading!  I appreciate it so much and comments, reblogs are welcome and encouraged. Don’t be shy to tell me your favorite part. 💕💕 💕

It was coming up on Friday.

The dreaded king of greeting card holidays, in your eyes, was Valentine’s Day and you never could really understand what all the fuss was about. One day a year where you dote on the person you love? What a crock of shit.

Mostly, you were cynical because you had never really had someone to call your Valentine…until now.

But Dean didn’t strike you as the romantic Valentine’s Day type. That wasn’t him. He barely knew what to do in a relationship, let alone plan a romantic night out for a cheeseball holiday like Valentine’s Day. But it was alright and you loved him because he was so non-traditional.

Last year for your birthday, he bought you four new tires for your car and took it to be washed and detailed. He really didn’t know any better despite Sam trying to tell him otherwise but you didn’t have high expectations either. Previous boyfriends couldn’t even remember your birthday, let alone get you something that you needed.

You couldn’t fault Dean for trying when others never bothered.

He would bring you your favorite ice cream or candy bar if he saw them while he was out. He’d come home with those really bad tabloid magazines or newspapers because he knew you loved them (he did too) and you would read through them out loud to each other and laugh together at how ridiculous the stories were.

It wasn’t a normal relationship but it was as normal as it gets for Dean Winchester. He loved you more than anything and that was enough for you.

**********

Monday

Watching him pack his bag for a hunt always made your heart hurt a little. It was mostly because you just wanted him to come home safe but you hated to watch him leave.

“Where ya goin’ this time, baby?” You asked, leaning against the doorframe.

Dean was packing his bag like he would be gone for at least a few days.

The sun had already gone down so warm amber glow from the nightstand lamp was the only light in the bedroom. The sleeves to his flannel shirt were rolled up to his elbows, showing off his strong forearms.

Without even trying, he was incredibly sexy.

Unconsciously, you were biting down on your lower lip as you watched him toss clothes into his bag and place his leather toiletry bag on top.

Moving away from the doorway, you walked over to sit down on the bed while he finished. Dean placed his bag on the floor and looked down at you as your gaze met his and he gave you a smile that would melt your insides. His thumb brushed the soft skin of your cheek as you closed your eyes and melted into his touch.

“Stillwater, Minnesota, sweetheart.” He replied in his deep gravelly voice as he sat down next to you.

As you inched closer to him, you gently placed a hand on his chest, and planted a soft kiss on his lips.

“And what’s in Stillwater, Minnesota, handsome?” You asked, in barely more than a whisper.

“Don’t know yet. Sam said a guy weighing over 300 pounds was found dead in his car but I guess when they found him, it looked like he weighed no more than 100 pounds. Sounded like our thing so we’re gonna go check it out.” Said Dean.

There was a breath of room between your bodies and as he brushed his fingers along your collarbone, it sent wild tremors along your nerves from the top of your head, down to your toes.

You kissed him hard, he growled against your mouth as he parted your lips and his tongue stroked against yours.

“You make me not wanna leave when you kiss me like that. Well, I-I mean I don’t r-really wanna leave anyway. You know what I’m tryin’ to say.” He stammered.

Chuckling, you replied, “I know you don’t, Dean. I just wanted you to remember what you’re missing when you go away.”

“Makes me excited to come home, baby.” He said with a sly smile.

You kissed him again.

“As it should.” You said with a wink. “Go get ‘em, tiger.”

“Talk to you soon, sweetheart.”

And with a squeak of a car door and a loud growl of the engine, he was gone.

You may end up spending Valentine’s Day alone afterall.

**********

Wednesday

Dean called just like he always did.

“So you’re at a wellness spa?” You asked in a confused tone.

Dean was trying to be as quiet as possible because he was still at the spa.

“Yeah, Canyon Valley Wellness Spa. Sam got a job here as a yoga instructor and the only thing I could get was in the kitchen.” Dean whispered.

“So you’re preparing food.” You said.

Dean quipped, “This is not food, baby.”

You laughed. “Ok, well do you know what you’re dealing with yet?”

“Sam thinks it’s something called a Pishtaco.” Said Dean.

You narrowed your eyes and replied, “A fish taco?”

“That’s what I thought he said! But no, a Pishtaco is native to Peru and they’re fat suckers.” He whispered. “So a place like this is a perfect cover for them.”

“Ew.” You replied.

“So that’s why people are thinner when they leave here and why they have marks on their back. Oh shit, someone’s coming. Gotta go. I love you and I’ll talk to you soon.” Dean said, hurriedly.

He hung up before you could tell him you loved him too but it sounded like they were close to solving the case and hopefully he would be home soon.

**********

Thursday Evening

You didn’t hear from Dean at all today. He tried to call every day that he was away but it didn’t always happen. A quick text was all you would get some days but you didn’t even get that today.

Distracting yourself from the fact that he didn’t call or text was difficult but you managed alright. You went out for “Galentine’sDay” with some of your friends from work. They invited you out for dinner and drinks which was just what you needed. It was the perfect distraction and it was a great night but in the end, you still had to come home to an empty house.

You had hoped to pull up to the house to see Baby parked in the driveway and Dean waiting patiently for you on the couch. But the house was dark and the driveway was empty so you knew he wasn’t home yet.

With the pillow gently cradling your head, you stared up at the ceiling in the gathering darkness and listened to the ceaseless winds outside your windows. It sounded like they were trying their hardest to unearth the trees as you closed your eyes and drifted off to sleep.

Your last thoughts before falling asleep were of Dean. The way he looked at you with his sage green eyes like you were the only woman in the world, joking with him about wanting to connect the splash of freckles across his nose, or wondering if he was thinking about you right now the way you were thinking about him.

Wherever he was, you just hoped he was alright.

**********

♥️Valentine’s Day♥️

Dean called that morning, said he was on his way home, and that he couldn’t wait to see you. But he made no mention of Valentine’s Day which wasn’t surprising but it didn’t mean you couldn’t do something nice for him since he had been gone all week.

He didn’t know if he would be home in time for dinner or not so he told you not to cook but he didn’t say anything about dessert.

You were lucky enough to scoop up the last heart shaped pie dish at the store so along with that, you bought everything you needed to bake him a heart shaped cherry pie.

As it sat cooling on the counter, you thought about just having pie for dinner when Dean came home. Knowing he probably already ate on his way home and not wanting to eat alone on Valentine’s Day, you decided to eat a little snack and open a bottle of wine because why not, right?

So you enjoyed your glass of wine, cracked open your book and patiently waited to hear the rumble of Baby’s engine and signature door squeak followed by Dean’s handsome face as he walked through the front door.

He was so happy when he walked through the door and you were very happy to see him, unharmed. A lot of the time he’d walk back through your door with cuts on his face, bruises, and sometimes even gunshot or stab wounds.

“There she is. Hey sweetheart, miss me?” Dean asked with a wide smile.

He was carrying a pizza box along with his travel bag.

“Of course I missed you! Hey baby!” You replied. “Is that an empty pizza box orrrrrr?”

Dean knew you were trying to be funny but he still shot you a “look.”

“Very funny, y/n. No it’s not empty, I thought we could have dinner together.” He said, setting it down on the table. “Do I smell pie?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You replied with a chuckle.

After retrieving a couple of plates from the cupboard and getting Dean a beer from the fridge, he carefully watched your face as you opened the pizza box, revealing a heart shaped pepperoni pizza inside.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, sweetheart.” Said Dean, softly.

“Oh Dean…you brought me a heart shaped pizza? That’s so thoughtful, baby!” You replied, getting ready to snake your arms around his neck before he stopped you.

“Crap, I have something else for you. I left it in the car, hold that thought though.” He said with a wink.

When he came back inside, he was holding a single red rose with baby’s breath, wrapped in plastic. It melted your heart.

Dean handed you the rose and nervously said, “All the flower shops were closed by the time I found one on the way home, I found this at the gas station. I know it’s not much but I hope it’s ok.”

You wrapped your arms around his neck, flashed a wide smile at him before pressing your lips to his. Dean kissed you back, hard and pulled you in closer to him in a crushing grip. His spicy familiar smell helped you relax into his embrace as his tongue tangled with yours.

Warmth radiated through his shirt as his body pressed firmly against yours. Dean walked you backwards until he had caged you in against the kitchen counter. A low growl escaped his lips and you could feel his hardening length through his jeans.

“It’s perfect baby, thank you. What’s not to love about a heart shaped pizza and flowers?” You asked, rhetorically.

“It’s just one flower, sweetheart. I had every intention of getting you an actual bouquet of flowers but—“ He said, before you gently pressed your fingers against his lips.

“Shh, shh, Dean. When I tell you that this is perfect, please believe me. It really is.” You said.

He finally took his gaze away from you long enough to see the cherry pie sitting on the counter next to where you were standing.

“You did make a pie.” He said, looking back at you with raised eyebrows. “And it’s heart shaped.”

“Happy Valentine’s Day, baby.” You said, as your lips curled into a warm smile.

Dean tilted your chin up so he could kiss up and down your neck, your throat, and the deep V-neck shirt you were wearing allowed him to gently kiss you in between your breasts as a strangled moan broke free from your mouth.

“Thank you for my pie, sweetheart. Now, can I show you how much I’ve missed you?” He asked in a low whisper.

Those words in his deep gravelly voice sent a shiver down your spine. The desire behind his hypnotizing green eyes matched your need for him as you clenched your thighs together in anticipation.

“Couldn’t hurt to work up an appetite. I love you, Dean.” You said softly with a smile.

Dean lifted you off your feet and you wrapped your legs around his waist as he carried you off to the bedroom.

“I love you too.”

Your first Valentine’s Day with Dean would be a hard one to beat but you didn’t doubt he would do his best to try even harder next year.

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