#Hello metal husband-

[eggslamwich]

It’s May the 4th quick post GG

[thesarcasticism]

hello future husband

[rocksinmuffin]

have you seen the robot svarog from honkai star rail? cause damn he kinda…

Damn, he single?

[the-epitome-of-pretense]

Promise?

[tonycries]

Bat(man) Romance - T.F.

Synopsis. Running into Batman AKA your ex-husband, Toji, after a heist? Could this night get any worse? Well, there’s also one tiny problem…you’re both covered in séx pollen.

Pairing. Toji Fushiguro x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! Catwoman! reader, Batman! Toji, BATMAN AU, exes-to-Iovers, PlNING, séx pollen, he goes FÉRAL, manhandIing, dúmbifícation, he’s BIG, making it fit, tummy buIges, overstím, chokíng, p sIapping, making him cúm early, creampíes, cúmplay, he’s RUlNED, bickering during it, latex, cervíx kíssing, bréeding, pússydrúnk Toji, pheromones, spítting, praise, fíngering, proposals, he’s also rich, L bómbs, Megumi cameo, happy ending, pet names, swéaring.

Word count. 8.0k

A/N. CAUGHT IN BAAAD ROMANCE!!

“Too slow~” You’re snickering to yourself, latex-covered legs swinging in the air as you eye the scattered pinpricks of red n’ blue police lights below. Scouring every road and lane in Gotham City for you - while you gazed with amusement atop a nearby rooftop.

You guess that’s part of being the resident Catwoman. Never to be caught.

Well, never to be caught by anyone other than him. 

You shake off the unwanted memories of your now ex-husband, the billionaire vigilante you were supposed to have happily spent the rest of your life with. And it really didn’t help that the skyscraper you’d found refuge on just-so-happened to be part of his sprawling Fushiguro Enterprises. 

Oh well…

Breathing in the sweet, crispy night air; you turn to what had gotten you in trouble in the first place.

That brilliant - almost glowing - pink flower you’d just stolen from the depths of a ministry vault, now clutched tightly in your cunning hands. “I like something that gives me a lil’ fight.”

“Then you’re gonna love me.”

It was a voice you could recognize anywhere, anytime-– that low, drawling growl that seeped his baritone words with just a bit of danger. 

And you’d forgotten how fast Toji Fushiguro was. 

Because just as soon as the realization hits your startled brain, your front hits the frigid rooftop tile. Tackled down. Face smushing into the smooth marble, chest panting out murked clouds when a heavy weight settles on your sinfully arched back.

Toji slouches sexily on top of you so that his scarred maw tickles your tender earlobe, weight fully rested to pin you down on the ground. Big, beefy arms holding you like a vice, “Heya, wifey.”

“Hello, ex-husband.”

“So- s’it a coincidence that both you and the police are visitin’ me or–?”

Ah- he was just as infuriatingly cocky as ever. Fuck having a happily ever after, you two were more likely to kill each other before that.

You snarl, more so because you’re unsure what else to do than anything. “Oh you know- just missing my favorite ex.” No matter how much you kick and scratch, Toji’s restraint stays firm. Trying to focus your widened peripherals on the ground instead, “I thought they killed you.”

“Not yet.”

And oh, you can’t deny that having his familiar hands on you after so long had you a little…electrified.

Shit– fine, on those lonely nights you’d even dreamt of having his thick, doughy fingertips tracing your simmering skin this way. All over. Drawing sloooow hearts near the nape of your neck - that lecherous bastard - before dipping down, down, down to lock both your wrangling wrists with only one of his oversized ones. 

Your fists clench tightly, still grappling onto that priceless exotic flower. The curved fringes of his digits caress the metallic zipper running down your spine, “Hiding something, mama?”

“Meow, tiger—” You’re purring out, “If you wanted to feel me up then you only had to ask~”

“Down, kitty.” His free hand tugs on your cute spiked collar to strangle those jabs, and then immediately unravels your hands to pluck the pretty stem from between your fingerpads. He twirls the blossom casually in his hands, “So this is it, huh? I should hand you to the Gotham police right this second.”

Your nose wrinkles at the sudden waft of syrupy pheromones that puff out from the flower in shimmery pink vapors. Hissing, “No! Give that back-”

Only for the words to tighten themselves into speechless knots at your throat because you’d finally, finally gotten your first good look at Toji Fushiguro since the divorce. 

Ever since you two had decided, after only a few months of marriage, that perhaps love wasn’t enough to keep you two from tying each other down to your own opposing ideologies and purposes. You ruled a crime empire, he was a death-defying hero.

And he was also…hot. 

Had he grown even more handsome than the last time you saw him? Because, fuck, you don’t remember his rugged jawline being quite as sharp. Or his shaggy Stygian bangs curtaining oh-so-intense of a gaze.

And his suit - oh, his suit. Toji was still donning that dark, skin-tight batsuit as you remembered - only right now, his Adonis-like muscles were practically ripping through the elastic material. Illuminated by the yolky moonlight overhead to carve out every dip and curve, every bob of his prominent Adam’s apple.

Slightly horned mask pulled over his head, he doesn’t even bother to hide the sultry roaming of his mossy eyes.

Toji Fushiguro was like sex personified, and that makes you stir impatiently on the polished tile. 

He’s shifting his bulky heft to stop your pathetic motions, straddling now. Lips twisting into a sleazy leer as his silken cape drapes over your body. “Cat got your tongue, wifey?”

“That’s my line, Batman.” You’re huffing out, lower lip jutting out in a way you already knew he loved. Ignoring his murmured rasp of ‘you look good’, you plead for the spoils of your heist once more. God, you could sense the scented perfume already saturating the heady air. “Give that back…p-please-”

“Oho?” Toji raises a sleek black brow, chuckles spouting off in gusts of scorched breath. He inches even closer, letting out a loooow whistle between his surprised lips, “The great Catwoman usin’ her manners? Ohh, say that again.”

“...please?”

“How cute.”

“Fuck off.”

“S’this lil’ flower really that important then?” You hear grumbling from above you - and you really should’ve predicted what would happen next. You really shouldn’t have been surprised when Toji promptly touches the straight bridge of his nose between it’s velvety petals and steals a deep sniff—

“You imbecile!”

And if Toji was swift, you were swifter. 

“Oh, shit- sugar.”

He barely even registers that it’d taken two bats of his long eyelashes for you to break out of his heroic stronghold and slam! his towering body to the ground. Your legs latched onto either side of his toned v-line like glue, one hand of yours clawing onto the unmistakable bat logo on his broad chest. 

“Reminds me of our honeymoon.” Toji cocks a grin from underneath, slender waist bucking - and failing - to throw you off. You were fucking determined. 

“I have never- met a more-” You spit through your clenched teeth, so hard you could taste the raw poison coating your tone. Through each pant of your chest, you swipe for your prize like the cat that was yearning for the cream. “-stubborn- hard-headed- moronic bat-”

Over and over.

And then with a final reach of your free set of fingers, you entrap Toji’s wrist, grab the delicate flower, and–

-crush it.

Only, this was no regular bloom.

The moment its glowy pink petals collide with your fingertips, softened fibre smashing into your eager flesh, the blossom bursts. Bursts. Into a thick, cloudy smog of microscopic pollen that glitters and spreads in front of your eyes. 

The sight was so mesmerizing that by the time you’re trudging your head out of the saccharine-smelling distraction, and crying out a frantic “Don’t breathe it in!”– it’s already too late.

Toji himself can’t see any reason why you’re practically sputtering n’ fraught - he certainly isn’t.

Sure, he was not the one who’d just lost what was likely a few million dollars worth of a rare plant. But when he had you like this? How could he ever even think of- actually, how could he ever even think?

Your chest heaving deliciously in that glossy latex catsuit, cute lips spit-slicked and parted with a never-ending train of complaints, fiery eyes he missed so much locked on him - and sat prettily on top of him, to boot! Oh, how he’d dreamt of this.

“Heh, always did like havin’ you on top of me, mama.” He inches his lolling head carnally closer to steal a few inhales of that sweet, sweet perfume you were wearing. It wasn’t your usual - but damn, did it leave him drunk on you.

And he sounded so gone.

Shit. 

“Oh no, it’s working already.” You bemoan, massaging the looming headache throbbing at your temples.

“What’s workin’?”

“The sex pollen.” You jeer, your heart racing with a slight inkling of satisfaction at the way you’d finally managed to render your taunting ex-husband speechless. Or was it from…something else? You didn’t want to consider that just yet. You’re dragging your hips on top of his and you almost moan.

Instead, stabbing a rigid index right between the cushy valleys of his pecs, lingering. “Which you- would have known if you’d just listened to me. Honestly- this is why we divorced-”

“Sex…”

“Sex pollen.”

And then it’s silence. Tense, deafening silence. 

Not even the sounds of the distantly-blaring police sirens are enough to make the panic set into your shivering body. Because right now it was bubbling with something feverish.

Needy. 

But did you really forget who you were dealing with? Of course, Toji would never let the uncomfortable quiet linger on for too long before he shatters the night stillness with a sharp bark of husked laughter. 

“S-so you’re sayin’...” He starts, and you definitely don’t like that particular tone of his. One which never boded well for you. With a hand squishing either side of your cheeks embarrassingly together, he ogles you dead-on into your hazed irises as he asks, “-you want to fuck me right here, right now, my wife?”

“I-I don’t-”

“I can tell when you lie, sugar.”

“Fuck you.”

His willowy eyes flutter shut with the image - and Toji feels so hot. He feels like he’s burning straight from the inside out, so many degrees higher in temperature at your sexy, sexy glare that told him you wanted murder him in cold blood and dance on his grave. Inhaling deeply, “S’that a request, mama~?”

And it was meant to be a joke - seriously. It was meant to be something stupid that would make you scoff and shove off of his burly body, disappearing into the night as he so often admired. 

But you always did surprise him.

And so did the next word spilling shyly from your mouth– “Yes.”

If Toji thought he was burning before then he was simply aflame with fire right now.

All he can do to steady his dizzy head, all he can do to stagger his greatly heaving chest into choking out a guttural, “Fine- come on.” 

Before you know it, your entire world tilts upside down - and not just because your ex-husband is throwing you over his meaty shoulders, your stomach laid over his rippling muscles. The slinky whoosh! of his grapple gun darting out and hooking onto the side of his building. Firmly. Your ass held high in the air, you swear you feel him give your right cheek a solid spank. “You wanna lose control, wifey? Let’s lose control.”

Fuck.

It takes two seconds for Toji to stride to the edge of the high skyscraper and projectile swing the both of you over to launch inside a conveniently-open window on the highest floor. Pulling himself inside. 

And only one second for you to realize that he’d just line-launched you straight into his fucking bed.

Honestly, your scream had barely had the time to formulate within your throat before you’re being thrown straight onto a plush, dark-blanketed king sized mattress. 

Glassy eyes looking ‘round – you’re realizing that you’d been transported right inside one of his many looming Gotham penthouses. Hell, he’d even fucked you right here in this exact bed a few times before.

Just your luck to choose to hideout in your ex-husband’s fucking house of all places.

“You- you little-” Your shrilling voice cuts out with every springing bounce, which makes the glare thrown in Toji’s direction immensely useless. Thighs emanating a stretchy screech of latex as they press together, you intake deep gulps of his musky cologne. “-you know how I always h-hated that thing.”

And oh, landed only a few feet away from the bed, Toji laughs - he laughs.

Breathy noises coming out in a thick tone, part of his face was obscured with the shadows spilling from outside. But the partial expression you could see made Toji Fushiguro look ruined - sharp, honed canines lifted into a snarl, sage eyes halfway through glowing. Desperate.

He looked at you like he wanted to devour you - and spoke of just the very thing. Gritting out, “And I’ve always hated that damn catsuit, mama.”

Heavy stepfalls thud! thud! thud! closer. And Toji’s sculptured body prowls like a predator closing in on his prey. Closed in on you. 

“L-liar. You know you liked it.”

And closer.

“I did.”

Until it was too close.

And suddenly Toji had two meaty palms loops around your helpless ankles to draaaag you all the way down his decadent bed, your hips flailing until they find purchase somewhere near the very edge. 

Ending off- “And I couldn’t wait to fuckin’ rip it off every time I saw it.”

Your skin feels so hot it’s like it’s melting, parched heat wafting off of you like the damn Sahara as his rude fingers pinch the rubbery material between your legs and riiiiips—! Exposing you for just how soaked n’ pretty you were.

Oh. 

So drenched that just tearing your latex had you forming a damn puddle. Toji isn’t sure whether it’s the sex pollen or just fucking you that makes his heart race faster when he’s watching the slimy globs trickle from between your dewy, swollen folds. 

Throbbing so depravedly that he counts one, two, three adorable quivers of your pussy before finally speaking. 

“Fuck, I missed ‘er.” Toji’s seething between his teeth, already on fucking edge for letting himself go the what– seven months? without his only lady. He breathes in - gulping in that sugary smell of your cunt, and it’s so much. Too much, he’s nibbling on your sleek mask. “Fuck-”

“Y-you’re-”

You’re dazed, your puffy pouted lips glueing together with stupid drool and flapping wildly after the hero lowers himself to gift a wet, smacking kiss on your dripping outer pussy. “A kiss for her, aaaand-” 

Toji tastes you and he flinches. Just for a split-second before the creamy stickiness clinging to his lips presses onto yours-

“-a kiss for her.” Toji’s lapping the scratchy buds of his tongue to slither across your pouted lower lip, sloshing out beaded wads of your own sap. Sweet. “Mmmm- really did miss this hah- pretty mouth, sugar.”

“You’re damn filthy.” You kiss through barren glares, and Toji’s grasping at the crown of your mask to tilt your head back. To swat your throat with a weighty splosh! of saliva. 

“And you’re damn likin’ it. See?”

Fuck- you didn’t know if you even wanted to. Knowing damn well that it would be something enough to drive you into madness.

But, alas, for how relentless of a criminal you were - good always did win in the end, after all. 

Though, as Toji slaps his swollen fingertips over your slick-filled hole to watch the ribbons of slick leak and ooze a glittery gloss over his wrist, you really wondered whether this would have been more evil than good. 

You watched through cracked eyelids at the way Toji was certainly smirking like it was. Your watery eyes can’t look away– “T-Toji.”

“Mhmm–?” He’s gnawing on your sting-buzzed lips like a gummy, itching the top of your wobbly bottom lip with his sultry scar. You really did miss that textured feeling. 

“Want- want you.”

“Are you begging, wifey?”

And right now you couldn’t even bring yourself to correct him - only blubbering with your desperate tongue, incoherent soft gasps about ‘please’. Wrapping your arms unstably around his broad shoulders, you thumb at the sweat-dampened black curls hanging on the nape of his neck. 

Making sure to lock your heart-eyes deeply with his - Toji feels his entire body shudder. He feels his entire body wrack with vulgar shivers from head to toe when your dilated pupils come in direct contact with his own.

It isn’t even that damn sex pollen that makes his heavy tongue wash over with a simmering wave of spit just from the way you tilt your head n’ whine “Baby…”

Now you’ve done it– you’ve used that top secret weakness of his. Pet names. 

The moment the airy syllables leave your cunning lips, you watch as your ex-husband’s darkened eyes flap shut. As if he was holding himself back this entire time. A tick in his jaw growing, a blush on his face burning, and his response has you wondering whether this was really the Toji Fushiguro.

Whether it was really him with his usual bass so hoarse, higher. Wild. “E-evil.”

And it’s like the heat is hitting him tenfold, curdling inside him and culminating in an ultimate, big dollop of syrupy saliva that Toji’s meandering down between your folds. Saturating your pussy with yet another layer of slicked sap, he’s rubbing one of his globed thumbs riiight over the mess. 

“Count f’me, mama.” SMACK! He’s granting a tough pawprint of his fingers on the hood of your clit, grinning sleazily down at you. “Count.”

You feel your skin heat, swamping out a proper pool between your thighs at this point. “F-fuck y-youu- ngh!”

“What was that?” Toji hums, darkly. The cushioned bed dips and creaks! when he’s shifting sloooowly down the bed, closer to where you needed him the most. But so painfully slow. He finds himself snickering at the way your huffs grow louder in impatience. 

“O-one…”

Another filthy thwack, and another cracking whine departing from your slobbery lips. It reaches Toji’s ears like his favorite song and compels him to reward you with another. 

“Two- three.”

And another. 

“Four.”

And another. 

“Hck! Five- five five five-” You’re bucking your hips wildly into his clashing hand, and the slightest smear of his mountainous palm on your pussymound makes your legs twitch animalistically. You arch upwards in repeated grinds- Practically sobbing, from both ends, “Please, Toji- please.”

And it takes him exactly one more sullen spank on your fluttery nub to render you just starstruck enough for him to strike his knees against the floor without yourself noticing. The aching thud! reverberating Toji’s mahogany bedframe with just how urgent he was.

Rapid.

Desperate. 

Toji spends a good chunk of time simply admiring your body, his nostrils flaring with great gusto as he drinks in your fragrance. Like caramel candy. Dripping wet. You were so fucking pretty, and that was something that would never change. 

You’re feeling a sweltering sigh hit the very outside of your cunt, washing over you like a summer breeze right as Toji’s hollowed baritone rings out. “Missed me, kitty?”

Scrambling up onto your elbows with all and any remaining strength, the last thing you manage to see is fucking Toji Fushiguro - the dark knight, still in his snug suit - kneeling at the bedside as if he was worshipping you. 

His pinkish tongue flopped out to smear a little wetspot where your inner thighs were, peeking at you through his dark lashes. Drunken.

Before your head throws back and all you can hear is the plopping squelch! of Toji prying apart your adhesive-slicked folds. Stray snapped strands of sap hitting his plunging lips, he circles your sloppy hole exactly once ahead of bullying inside.

“O-oh my- oh my god.” You’re hiccuping out, white-hot stars of pleasure bursting behind your weighted lids at the sheer stretch.

Toji’s lecherous tongue laps at your entrance and reminds you of just how big he is – how loooong. You swear you feel like his wet muscle is never-ending when he’s smearing your pussylips widely agape to push n’ push n’ push.

Mazing his slobbery way through your mushy walls until the tip of his tastebuds prickled almost near your sweet spots. And he’s just as mean as you never got used to, thrusting in and out of your cunt before you can utter a word.

“Please…oh please-” You’re thrashing back into the slight hill of expensive velveteen bedsheets that had collected underneath your surging hips. 

Hands scrambling anywhere - everywhere - from the plush of his mattress, to clenching into fists, to creeping onto Toji’s bulky deltoids and reeling him in deeper-

“Oi, mind ya manners, wifey.” He’s stretching his tongue out wiiiide, swabbing the flattened fringes in a massage down your raw walls. It’s a scissoring sensation that leaves you sobbing for mercy, your cheek bitten in a desperate attempt to keep your composure. Failing. 

“But- but I want more.”

“More, huh?” Shit, he’s humping his hips ferally into the smooth bedstead, rolling his throb-throb-throbbing bulge into it so hard that his words start veering into a…growl. “My wife wants more- more more more.”

The invisible pollen sticks to you like gum, leaving you insatiable. 

A few steamy wads of drool trickle down your pussylips, and Toji makes sure to keep your fattened folds open so that he can slouch back for a second and watch the wads seep inside your hole. One beefy arm is all it takes to keep your legs open when you try to shut them cutely closed. 

You’re both holding direct eye-contact as he bites down on a snagged edge of his glossy gloves and draaaags it slowly off. Displaying your unfocused eyes with rugged, tannish skin. 

“How ‘bout a lil’ ‘thank you’, huh?” 

“Sh-shut up…”

“Spit in my mouth then-”

And when you reach over to, he’s slurping it allll up. Every translucent speckle. “Ungrateful girl.” He’s moaning into your pussy, and you gasp at the sensation of his honed fangs sinking around your pulsating clit and biting. “She’s h-happy to see me though, riiiight?”

And it was true. Your diveling pussy was on overdrive, pulse after pulse that let out the most conversational noises Toji would nod and hum along to. “Damn, mama- ya sure yer my ngh- ex-wife? Fuckin’ missed how wet she got.” Sopping out so many more luscious splotches of slick - raining, fountaining out and he still couldn’t get enough. 

You’re letting off whiny babbling mewls as you’re feeling Toji ladle out the clingy residue onto the capped tops of two fingertips. Pecking your quivering hole with a loud sluuuuurp, before he’s thickly stretching his way inside.

“Fuck- fuuuuuuck–!” You’re squealing, your cheek lolling further into the moist puddle of drool that was constantly escaping your poor maw. Insatiable. 

And it was safe to say that your pathetic pussy hadn’t experienced anyone as staggeringly big n’ girthy as Toji. Ever. Because all that solid fucking length on his fingers and he only had to slip inside the very sensory pads to get you to feel like the world was spinning.

“They’re- they’re so big–” You’re hiccuping out through the leaden ball stuck in your throat, and it’s hard enough to pitch your words up to an audible level over all the waterlogged squelches. 

So filthy, every damp inch inside of you curls up deliciously. He’s plugging your overspilling cunt up all the way to his knobbly knuckles, “S’that a compliment? From you?”

The bed shakes as Toji’s gyrating his hips even deeper, the plummy crown of his tip streaming out wet, syrupy smears of pre all across his overpriced mahogany.

You’re sinking deeper into the humid bed when he slaps his manicured crescents of fingernails right over the orifice of your g-spot. Oh. Pushing. Pleasing.

Delving purposefully deep to set you off maddeningly, “C’mon, sugar—-” Toji croons out, trawling his greedy tongue all over from the drenched crevices of your thighs to where your clit was all plump n’ perky. 

Delicately outlining the cutest of wet hearts on your leaky pussy, he swabs a targeted whack right into your g-spot and makes you cry– “Yeah- tha’s right. Tha’s right.” Breathy tone hurried, rough. “Heh- meow f’me, kitty.”

You swear you were about to open your stupid maw and teach him a thing or two - maybe about how you wanted more - you swear. But right at that very moment, Toji’s third finger eases in past your gushing walls and toys with the buttons of your g-spot just right.

Rendering your jaw permanently slack, your cunt smeared wide open - sap waterfalling out like it was nonstop. 

And all this time whilst Toji had been driving you to insanity with his right hand - oh, the man himself is fucking slobbering out viscid pearls of slobber as he brushes over the cold, cold wedding ring on his left hand over your clit and makes you arch—

He still had it?

“Please–” Your eyes moisten with big, salty tears, streaking down your face and making it so fucking difficult for Toji to keep himself from reaching over and licking them clean off. “M’not gonna last- fuck! M’not gonna…”

Ahhh, how cute. 

Unruly locks of his hair plastered onto his perspired head, you’re just barely able to make out the sassy roll of Toji’s eyes. “Where’s that stamina of yours- ngh- wifey?”

“Where are those fuuuuck! d-divorce papers–?”

“Ooooo, fuck- I’ve missed that damn mouth.” He almost fucking whines, bloated cock twitching. And thereafter every wet slap! of his lips is followed by a pained grunt, every thud of his fingers deep into your goopy pussy crazed. Toji’s taking all of you - everything he can. 

Making up for how many nights he’s fucking missed you, he twinges his frigid ring over your sensitive nub and pinches. All the way until your fleshy clit scorches with heat, painful n’ yet so good. “Mmm– seems like heh- someone’s gonna cum–” 

And, shit, it might just be the both of you right about now — but your pretty self didn’t have to know that right now.

Every sloppy clench of your soft insides squeezing instinctively ‘round him only made Toji’s fat balls even tighter. Fuller. And the completely primal sounds ripping out of you are nothing if not sexy.

Only growing louder. Faster. 

Your tight ring stings with the ramming slams of his rounded knuckles hitting again and again.

Toji wheezes out a slurring few mumbles over your clit and your toes curl. Pushing your hips back to glue your oversaturated folds lecherously against his scarred lips. Itching yeeeearningly over n’ over your shaky pussy. Your tummy flutters carnally as he rasps, “Go on then. C-cum f’me, mama- cum goddammit.”

The pollen was scorching him– making him starved. 

And the sheer bliss that overtakes your body and makes you shake is ridiculous. Like something buried deep inside of you snaps–

“Cumming—” You trill out shrillingly, “Cumming cumming cumming– fuuuck, baby–!”

“I already know, kitty.”

Toji’s already crushing the massive bulge tenting his pants against the polished bedframe, hungrily lapping up every spurt, every twitch, every ounce of sappy slick that angrily swashed out of you. And ohhhh, this was heaven on Earth.

His lips were stinging at this point, drinking up all the ribbons of translucent juices that slipped down his tongue like a lacquer. He was so thoroughly at home, making out away between your pretty tremblin’ legs.

The edges of his pearly whites getting caught on your tender clit and sopping out your large splashes of sap even more feverishly. “So fuckin’ sweeeet, my wife.”

Toji lets his pointed chin droop open to smear over the very base of your treacly pussy, creaming all out into his steaming hot mouth. He’s drifting the metallic band of his ring over your hole - soaked with a thin layer of perspiration and smooching your clit with the buttony tip of his nose. 

Spitting, just to watch the drenched way in which it spills out of your flooded entrance, Toji’s dark lashes shutter as it sprays a glittery sheen all over his sexy features.

“H-heh- clean your act up, mama.” Toji husks out, his clenched teeth gleaming with so many multiple laminations of dripping wet slick. Your sweet cunt was so filthy, and he can’t help but let out a wild, unrestrained laugh– “Should punish ya for this fuckin’ mess.”

And you’re barely even done with the Earth-shattering highs of your orgasm, toes still curling every time the teasing tip of his tongue flickers in and out of your hole a few recurring times. 

Thighs tremoring as you shake out an unsteady, “Y-you made it.”

“That I did.” Another swopping slap, and Toji pulls himself off with a wet plop! It’s so fuckin’ loud, because that’s just how drenched you were, he hisses at the vicious spanks of stranded slick hitting his face. Grunting out - because oh, he missed you already.

Couldn’t stop himself from departing a throaty groan and kissing your dripping cunt again. And again. And again. Snog after slippery snog. 

He’s panting out in scorched syllables, “Really fuckin’ missed my hah- wife’s pretty pussy.”

“I’m not-”

“After this?” His smile was so smug as he finally – finally, managed to reel in ‘nough self-control to actually pull away. Making such an exaggerated show of sucking his thick, sopping wet digits all the way from his knuckles to the very tip. Satisfied, “You sure…wifey?”

Your needy hips twitch from the last few dredges of your high, “M’your ex- oh.”

And yet, you can’t even defend your honor - not when Toji starts shedding that stupid hero suit of his and he looks like that.

Ohhh, all the way from head-to-toe. One by one. The yellowish oval of his Batman logo almost splitting straight in half when it snags on one of his ridged obliques. And fuck– you certainly did miss this - maybe you wouldn’t really mind his renewal of your titles…

Your eyes rovered all greeeedily to take in the swole puff of his broad pecs, spine curved deliciously in a slight ‘S’ from his muscular back to his sinful waistline. 

Shit, he wasn’t even wearing much underneath his suit. 

Nothing other than a tight, stuffed underwear that didn’t hide much- anything, actually. You’re ogling unblinkingly at the raven curls that stick out in a rugged happy trail. Bumpin’ up and down his exact eight washboard abs and tufting out at his swollen base.

Taking his sticky boxers off.

Fuck…

The bed dips and sings out creaking praises as Toji splays his bulky, capped knees on either side and meets you somewhere in the middle. Close. 

Manspread so vulgarly that you can count the precise number of times his biiiig cock bobs up n’ down, you’re gasping at the sheer way he seems to have grown. Because surely Toji Fushiguro wasn’t always this massive, right? 

Swollen. All proudly near damn ten or eleven inches and covered in decorative zig-zags of veins, he was so fucking hard that his glistening shaft was twitching with every pounding ba-dump–! of his pulse. 

Your mouth waters as you take in the overwhelming streams of warm, see-through pre that was frosting his reddish crownhead in a thickly cap. Aching to be inside you. So fucking hot. Burning. 

Toji was as bloated as a ripe strawberry and just as pink, you’re licking your lips at the lewd wonderment of whether or not his firm, mushroomed tip would taste like it, too. And before you know it, you’re crawling slyly to where he was kneeled on the bed. 

Your kiss-bruised lips just flopping on top of his curvaceous head to give a sweltering, steamy smooch before–

“Fuh-fuuuuck! Nuh uh, mama…” Sparkly dewdrops of sweat swing to and fro as Toji shakes his head vehemently. Curling a soft hand at your throat and manhandling you to lay out flat on the puffy mattress, “Now.”

It’s all that’s said – it’s all that has to be said.

And by the grating, gone tonality sticking to his words, your husband meant it. 

Not even soon enough.

Especially once he’s getting his hands on the glossy fabric of your catsuit and teeearing it all down into unapologetic tatters. Thrown all over his messy floor, Toji can’t help but admire that gorgeous body he’s thought about night after night after night.

“T-Toji–” You’re whimpering impatiently, and it takes only the slightest buck of your hips for him to lug over a meaty knee and press it down on your slobbering pussymound. 

Your silvery slit slopping out a glistening splotch right where his capped limb was pinning you down with pressure. Hard. Though, honestly, it doesn’t even take much of his ripped muscles to hold you still.

“Eeeasy. Easy there, sugar.” He spits into your saggingly ajar mouth. And only nanosecond later you’re stung with the striking clap! of his ballooned-up length falling on your dribbling pussylips. Rubbing over the tender flesh with his wiry, tamed hairs, “Jus’ wanna nghh- admire my wife a lil’.”

Shit, you almost forgot what a complete tease he was.

Sandwiching his cylindrical length between your raw folds - he’s almost warming his vicious hips up. Sliding loooong drags of his blushing tip up and down your teary slit, you were so helplessly needy underneath him. 

Smack! Smack! Smack! There he went spanking your nubbed clit with a few prodding veins of his, one after the other. 

And he’s skimming a fat thumb to watch your frothing hole even better, slabbing your cunt with another slab of spittle through titters. Taking a countless deep inhale of your sweet, sweet scent.

Pure heat.

“Ad-admire me later—” You’re sounding out your complaints so prettily, droplets of tears starting to accumulate by the edges of your droopy gaze. Just simply soaked through, your mouth overspills with saccharine water to catch up to the rest. Needed it. You needed this.

“So you admit it?”

“Wh-ngh- what?”

“Admit that you’re m-my…” You almost don’t have the privilege of hearing the rest of Toji’s smug grumbles because of the way he promptly aligns himself on the target of your dripping cunt. Of the way he slouches forward, your ears popping once he sinks in– “-wife.”

And oh, for how full Toji was leaving you with only his sheer size - cramming n’ cramming his solid fucking length desperately - the hero was stuffing you only fuller when he eases a red, swollen inch and cums.

You’re hearing it before you register it - that sickly sweet sluuuurp of being filled to the utter brim. Your poor, gummy walls ram with so many knotted wads of cum that you feel dizzy. Stretching, stretching, stretching until the tautness pulled by his snaggling veins bloats even further with the splosh of thick seed. Filling you up. 

He was ruthless on a normal day, but with the pollen he was merciless. Leaving none alive. 

“T-Tooooji–!” You yowl out at the poke of his fattened, bludgeoning tip scraping your insides deeply. He wasn’t going easy on you. At all. No, you were going to take it. 

Your eyes widen a fraction at the scalding trickle of goopy seed that was pouring out of you, buttering your lips with frosty white icing. One of your fingers twitch to smear a mess of the puddle, “Did- did you just c-”

“Move that damn hand.”

“Wha-”

“I said-” Toji leans in close enough that you can count every strand of gold in his jade eyes, dark brows furrowing. And you’re not quite sure that the fire in his gaze is solely because of the pollen, “-move that damn hand.”

Before you can make a singular motion, his calloused hand dips down and rudely swats away your curious fingers. 

And then Toji thumbs your pussy open to spit– once on your gaping pussy, once in your mouth. Tilting your stupid mouth shut with a flick to your chin and bottoming out. 

Loooong and slow so that you can feel your dribbling nooks and crannies massage all down with the lightning bolts of his prodding veins. Such deep, magical spots he’s discovering just by hitting the juts of his hip bones to your front - just trying to fit his thick cock inside. 

Smacking and smacking. 

And was so fucking big. You can’t stop the tiny whimpers that leave you every time he’s funneling your pretty lil’ cunt with such a large, barreling length. Just the feeling of his hefty weight sagging your walls had your knees buckling, his tip reaching scorched insides only known to him.

Oh, it was all so familiar having his fat breeder balls nuzzling your sensitive lips, and with a content hum Toji rests the weight of his sweat-glossed abs down onto your front. 

His spit-sheened lips hovering over the heated curve of your ear, whispering. “We’re gonna have the ngh- cutest kids, wifey.”

Toji claws one of his engulfing hands on the matted, bedraggled mess of your scalp, and you gasp at the twitch of his big, bulging biceps pushing you down. Fitted all the way to his fat hilt, and he’s still bucking and bucking. 

“Oh- ohhhh fuck!” You wail with every plump pinprick of his geysering divot streaking out long lines of precum along your dewy wet walls. Wobbly legs pushing off the bed, “You’re so big- nghhh you’re so big.”

He’s cracking a lewd smile at the way you’re already running away from his rummaging stretches - and he hasn’t even started putting his back into it yet, seriously. 

“C’mere, kitty kitty~” As if you could even think about running away from him. His own bloated cock stiffens at the way that lil’ nickname makes your glassy eyes widen, using the diversion swiftly to grip your throat and pull.

Spearheading your sap-soaked channel open until the four walls reverberated like an orchestra of your carnal squeals.

“Fuck- fuck fuck fuck fuck fuuuck–! You’re in s-sooo deep–”

“Ya think that’s deep?”

Shit, your gaping drenched hole is gulping down so many barreling inches and he’s still pounding in more. More and more and more squeezing in past your tight muscle, and batting at the bullseye of your cute g-spot.

Trailing a hand over to poke where his bumpy tip was pressing pretty pecks on your sweetest spots, the crest of his shaft slips n’ slides until it reaches your spongy cervix to give a good, long prod. 

“Ya loooove it here, huh?” He’s huffing, hips slamming into yours so hard that you could feel the ridden heat. You could see the blushing red stains where his fleshy mounds were papping against yours. Red n’ raw. “Can practically hear that k-kitty ngh- purring, mama.”

And Toji’s version of “purring” were those slimy wet splashes that emanated non-stop from your pussy. Ringing up and out so roughly that you couldn’t even wrap your cottony mind ‘round just how hard Toji was fucking you.

Like he hated you.

When it was anything but. 

With a dark, quirked brow at the way your maw unfastens when he picks up speed. “Yeah? Yeah? Louder, mama, louder.”

Every hit was a homerun, precisely. Toji’s knees part your legs to crumble open so far apart that the muscles of your inner thighs burned. With both friction and stretch.

He looks down at you with a lipstick-stained smile, sexy even when he isn’t even trying to be. “Maaan, I m-missed this sight, my wife.” Huskily, he grips his way to your hips and manhandles you to thrust even deeper. “Missed this pussy— never been the s-same hck! without ya, sugar.”

Toji’s tenderly leaving the wholly bruising marks of his thickened digits all over your throat, making sure to pivot his hips so that your throbbing clit catches on his textured happy trail. Swervin’ to and fro right as he buries himself to the entire base. Pounding you open spaciously. 

You’re molded oh-so-voluminously spread to take his exact hits that your jaw hangs agape, eyes woozily criss-crossing - and it wasn’t even the sex pollen that had you like this. 

“Sh-shooo good—” You’re bawling out, and it’s so cute how your pussy dribbles even wetter when Toji bends his plank position to massage you with his washboard abs.

Juuust the way he knew you liked it.

A sheened layer of sweat transfers from Toji’s sultry, sliiiiding muscles to yours. Making those raggedly-run vocals of yours pitch into something broken while you ached out more n’ more of that deeply carnal scratch of his puffy bubble-gum pink nipples massaging your own tits. His toned pelvis batter-ramming away as he pleased. 

He hits perfectly at your g-spot once more, honing in on it over and over until you’re left sputtering on the hammered glazes of drool that coats your dry mouth. “M-missed you- ngh! toooo–!” 

One of your eager hands tug on one of his smooth, sensitive nub and Toji damn near cums. His mouth - oh, his scarred mouth was curving into the most accomplished smile. 

Splotching your own sloppy lips - missing the gasping cavern of your mouth, purposefully. Just so Toji could watch the showy way his glob of spit splatters the ends of your twitchy maw, while he counted every plap plap plap. 

“H-heh–” Though, the tips of Toji’s ears blush primally red. “Knew it. Knew ya missed- missed me…Probably couldn’t go a haaaah- second without thinkin’ of me, hmmm?”

Grumbling out something incoherent as he kisses the tender side of your neck, something along the lines of a pathetically pitched “C-cocky bast…ard.”

“Wha’s that now?” Free hand toying over your clit, other tightening on your neck.

“Fuh-f–”

“Fuuuuh–?” Toji’s naturally chiseled chest ripples as he keeps mocking you from above. And even the ridged curve of his heavy cock was drowning out your thoughts with utterly fuzzy cockdrunkenness. 

It takes you a long while - and a vulgar few plaps of achingly hard, gloss-dribbling cock - for you to finally manage out. “F-fuck you.”

And ohhh, Toji Fushiguro isn’t a masochistic man - but hearing those rude words come out of your beautiful lips always did make his overworked hips shiver dangerously. Closely. 

“I’m fucking you, mama.”

He was hot.

Soooo hot. Scalding you. Drilling into you like he was out of control— so hard that one-two-three slaps strike you in sloppy succession, almost every nanosecond. Pushing you further and further up the rickety headboard, swashing around the thick, milky cum snugly pumped inside you until you were dripping from the inside out. 

Stupid enough to murmur out a thick, “Then c-cum- cum inside me–”

“Ohhh now you’re talkin’ outta ya fuuuck- pussy?” He’s gritting out, tense abdomen pinning you down further so all the chatty gusts of air leave your throat. “Shut up n’ cum f’me, wifey.”

And shit- Toji himself didn’t think that would fucking work like it used to.

Your poor, infatuated pussy still so deeply in love with him that they’re basically melding into the perfect heart shape inside when you reach your high. 

Toji feels it first with the way your gluey-like walls cling onto his sensitive, plunging shaft like never before. Slouching forwards to sniff in your candied scent with a groan, “Atta girl. Aaaatta girl, jus’ like- like that- cum allll for your ngh! husband.”

You’re already so sensitive from your last high that this one hits you like five semi-trucks at once, and your head tumbles uselessly backwards into the silk-covered pillows. Vision blacking out near the edges - and all you can concentrate on was Toji Toji Toji.

This wasn’t even the sex pollen’s fault - you just needed him so bad. 

“Inside- inside-”

“H-heh, my cockdrunk wife. If I c-cum ngh! inside m’reeeally gonna wife ya up.”

“T-Tooooji–!” It falls from your mouth as if a sinful mantra, and you’re hiccuping with every prominent vein of his cock rubbing the insides of your tense spots. Ramming. Pulsing. “Look- look at me.”

Toji could barely even flap his eyes open but oh, was he looking at you.

Through predatory, half-lidded eyes that devoured you. “Mhm— Toji’s here, Toji’s here. Your husband’s here, sugar.”

One of your hands slithers up to the sweat-wetted locks of his black hair, other caressing Toji’s left pectoral. To thumb your thick fingerpad over his rosy nipples, and to also feel the ba-dump–! of his rapidly increasing heartbeat. You’re mumbling into his plump lips, “You’re catnip to a g-girl like me. Wan’ you inside.” Nuzzling his flush scorched cheek, “I still hngh! love you, y’know-”

Fuck. 

The syllables are barely dangling off of your slimy tastebuds before Toji’s finally finishing - inside you. 

And it’s so sloppy.

If you thought that Toji was making a mess before, then this made you realize that he was - in fact - holding back. The strawberry end of his red, red shaft roaming your sodden walls until he knocks against the door to your womb and cums.

Straight As for his aim, a great dollop of buttery seed starts piling up right where your g-spot is. And your cute cunt is stretched out wiiide on the slathers of ribbony sap he pumps you full with.

Your walls spreeeead.

All the way to the brim. Your head starts spiralling at just how full you felt - you didn’t know it was even possible, and yet, here you were. The tummy bulge Toji was fucking from the inside only inflating bigger by the second, cute lil’ knots of cum swirled ‘round and ‘round by his swollen tip.

With a face burying right into the clammy crook of your neck, he’s hiding away the cherry blush on his cheekbones. 

But you could already feel the thin trickle of drool spilling from either side of his parted mouth, feel Toji’s Adam’s apple rip with a whimper–

“S-still love you- too, mama.” He’s kneeing open your legs further to make sure you take every last drop. Breathless at the glued-together skin of your thighs, stained all creamy white with his seed. His own bulky thighs twitch whilst he bucked, all milking himself out. “Always- always have. Always will.”

You find the wet insides of your mouth sizzling by the time Toji’s wrung his tender, twitching balls free from every teensy tiny drop of cum he had to give your starving pussy. 

Though, still rolling his hips lazily into yours, still pressing the damp skin of his forehead into your own– his calloused fingertips break apart from your neck to give the pearly dewdrops of juices pouring from your slit a lil’ smear. 

Languidly trailing up, up, up until he cups that protruding bumpy outline - drawing an adorable heart out of his warmly slicked mess. 

“N’- m’gonna- ngh- gonna love our d-daughter j-jus’ as much.” He’s whispering through a low, almost reverent tone. So sure it’s going to be a girl. His girl. His daughter. Both of yours. “She could be our Robin.”

Your heart swells, and you’re just about to breathe in Toji’s piney, sweetened smell you loved so much - until he plugs his candy-glazed fingers in his mouth to suck, before promptly reaching underneath the very pillow you were laid out on. 

And within the blink of an eye, you’re staring at one of the biggest sparkly diamonds you’ve seen your entire life - your wedding ring. One to match his. 

“Always kept ya c-close ta me, my wife.” Toji murmurs. Gently grasping your hands to slide the cool band onto your finger, while he still fucked you through the last few lecherous throes of his high.

His emerald, half-open eyes stare deeply into yours as the ring sits rightfully in its home after so long. His shaggy bangs falling over your own eyes, Toji connects his forehead with yours. “Always will.”

And you already knew that the sex pollen wasn’t long-lasting, that it was firmly and happily fucked out of your system.

Yet, you still partially blame it for the way it takes you all of two split-seconds to push Toji from his shoulders until his back hits the back with a springy whoosh! A surprised gasp retreating from his scarred lips, turning into a growl once he catches sight of the thiiiick oodles of cum that gushed down your legs. Doubly full. 

“S’gonna hafta hah! take if we’re gonna have a daughter.” You’re musing, a greedy smirk playing on your lips. 

Seating yourself down slowly, slowly, sensually to do an experimental figure eight on his overstimulated, ruby-red cock. Still so hard, but hitting your cervix with a line of wispy cum - just from seeing you like this.

What was it he said–? Ah yes, he always did like having you on top of him.

Toji interlocks your trembly fingers with his so that he could leave a loving peck on your clinking wedding rings. And you’re purring, “Better not tap out now, Batman.”

Yeahhh, he’s marrying you again tomorrow first thing. If you two make it alive by then, that is. 

“W-wouldn’t dream of it, Catwoman.”

.

.

.

And then just about nine months later; when your darling baby boy, Megumi, is born- well, your overeager husband only sleazes that you try and try and try again. He always did want a big Bat Family.

A/N. TOLD Y’ALL I’D DO IT. Also my period started RIP send help.

Plagiarism not authorized.

[suksatoru]

"if you can hear me, chosen one, give me your strongest kick."

you lift your gaze from the book page pinched between your fingers and offer satoru an unimpressed glare. as scolding as you try to appear, there's a hint of a smile tugging your lips upward at his ridiculously adorable antics.

"i think our princess might be napping," he hums, pressing a flurry of kisses over the swell of your stomach as you squirm under his touch, wiggling your toes.

"you're going to be late, satoru! weren't you supposed to leave fifteen minutes ago?"

"hahh?"

he drops his face back onto your stomach gently, sighing happily as his hand glides over the soft bump. you decide to let him lie with you for a little while longer—the soft smile etched onto his face was far too precious to disturb.

"i'll text nanami and let him know you'll be a bit late to the mission, okay?" you say softly, carding a hand through his platinum locks as he hums softly, lashes fluttering close.

satoru talked to the baby in your belly quite often—even going as far as having full-on conversations with her. there had been countless nights where you stirred awake only to hear his silky sweet voice muffled against your stomach, all while he gazed starry eyed at the gentle curve of your stomach in front of him.

satoru's dearest dream had always been to have a family. it was a quiet truth he wouldn't ever dare to speak into existence because it didn't seem possible in any universe—but somehow, he stumbled upon a way. and now he gets to spend his evenings like this with you.

satoru's boundless affection during your pregnancy will forever be something you would be grateful for. the fondest thing you would look back on would have to be the endless amount of baby clothes he got—satoru had even purchased a matching set of onesies for all three of you to wear. typical satoru. he was adamant about making sure the three of you would have a bunch of pictures together as a family so he'd be able to send everyone he knew those corny holiday cards he always saw on tv—the only reason you remember that moment from so long ago right now is because of the phone call you received.

"hello?" you speak in a hushed tone, rocking the ivory haired baby in the crib next to you gently as you hold your phone between your cheek and shoulder.

"hello! is this mrs. gojo? i'm calling to confirm your family photoshoot scheduled for next week. it's the two hour session. it looks like you scheduled it a little over a year ago?" her voice comes to life through the phone, and your rocking slows to a stop.

"oh," is all you can manage at first.

you hear the sound of her typing come to a slow stop as she waits for your response. you resume rocking your daughter's crib before answering.

"i'm sorry, but it seems like my husband forgot to cancel the appointment."

she goes on a bit of a tangent, gently scolding you because the company was extremely busy with numerous photoshoots and you had canceled so last minute—but she promised to get it fixed and have the money refunded as soon as possible.

the line beeps quietly when you drop the call, and your hand feels perpetually numb as you drop your phone into your lap.

you rub at the sting that blinds your eyes a second later before rising on wobbly legs, not checking if your baby is asleep as you stumble towards your bedroom's balcony door and slide it open. you tuck your knees under you on the ground and rest your head against the railing, allowing the cool metal to be pressed against your cheek as you take a steadying breath.

you were nearing the one year anniversary of satoru's death and, quite stupidly at that, thought you'd be in a better condition by now. but his presence was irreplaceable—and it was moments like this where you were reminded how painful it was to lose your soulmate in the blink of an eye.

the night air kisses your cheek, whipping your hair around gently as it falls over your eyes—and the sensation is uncannily familiar to the way satoru's slender fingers would play with your hair and tickle your cheek whenever he was in a particularly playful mood.

the night traffic flowing beneath you fades to nothing as the wind whirls around you—but, it felt like if you closed your eyes hard enough, strained your ears as much as possible—then maybe you could make yourself believe that the whistling wind whizzing past your ear was satoru's voice lulling the ache in your chest away instead.

[wolfsteax]

hello metal husband

three eye metal husband

(commissions are open!)

[4-the-l0ve-0f-art]

Reverse isekai... Caleb... Cat... Part 2 Link Ao3 Link

Caleb loved you more than anything in this world. 

Or at least, that's what you would've liked to imagine if he was real. But he isn't. And you're not in a pixelated little world called Linkon City and none of your hopes and dreams about having a happily ever after with your military husband and childhood best friend were coming true. 

You stared at the fanfic left open on the phone screen, wishing to see your husband in your dreams to ease the ache of loving someone you could never have while in your loneliest moments. 

If only he could be real. If only he could become real from Astra knows what power and fall in love all over again. With you this time instead of the MC who seemed to resemble anything but you. If only. Too much to ask for, yes, you know. 

No, he wasn't real, and no, he wasn't there to fall in love with you as you did with him. And you had your own life to live and work to do and tough times to get through on your own tomorrow. And the day after. And the day after that. 

So, leaving you no other choice, you drifted off to sleep as the delusion shattering ache in your heart seeped in.

-

It was raining. You opened up your umbrella next to the entrance of your workplace, greeting your coworkers goodbye. You were tired. Your brain was fried from working since morning and you felt like the walking dead. 

The thoughts of cooking something up for dinner made you feel like flopping down on the sidewalk you were walking on and passing out. You had the free will to do that, of course, but the rain pitter pattering along with your dragged steps only reminded you of all the cleaning you would have to do after practicing your so-called free will. 

The street lights turned on and you continued onward, just a block away from your home. 

As you walked by an alleyway, your heart almost jumped out of your chest at the sound of metal clashing onto the ground. You froze, holding your breath as you turned around. 

You waited. 

One beat. Two beats. 

Nothing. 

And then, there it was again, the sound of something thuding around. 

Without thinking, you made your way towards the source of the sound, your heart bearing in your ears. A dumpster came into view. 

Something, or someone, seemed to be struggling inside. You called out. 

“Hello..? Is anyone in there..?” Your voice trembled. 

No reply.

You slowly got close to the dumpster and opened the cover with shaking hands. 

Widened blue-pink eyes with a pair of black ears and tail stared up at you through the piles of garbage. 

“What the fuck?”

-

The cat jumped out of your hold as soon as you entered your home, shaking off water from its fur and scampering away from you as fast as it could while you were struggling to put down the wet umbrella. 

“Okay, rude? I bring you home with me to avoid the guilty conscience that would follow tomorrow if I found you dead from the cold somewhere and you pay me off by drenching my floorboards!”

You let out a frustrated sigh. 

He silently watched you from a corner of the room as you made your way to the kitchen island to wash off your hands. 

“Make yourself at home, I guess..” You mumbled, more to yourself than to him. 

I have a cat in my apartment. What now? 

-

First and foremost, it was bathtime. You were NOT about to let a stinky ass wet fur ball run around your home. 

You tried to pick him up again but he bolted around the living room, paw pads making skittering noises in the process.

After about 10 minutes of running around, you gave up, standing defeated. You called out to him as a last resort. 

“I just want to give you a bath. Please.”

“Mreow!” He protested, sitting on top of the kitchen island. 

“Fine. Whatever. Live with the stink all you want. I'm tired and you're taking up my gaming time.” You rolled your eyes. 

Maybe leaving him alone for a while will ease him a little.. You hoped. 

And so, you turned around and sat down on the couch with the TV remote in hand, ready to open YouTube and rewatch the same goddamn trailer for the 100th time. 

[Love and Deepspace | Caleb's Trailer]

-

He didn't know how he ended up here. One moment he was feeling immense, needle pricking pain across his entire body, the next he was in a dumpster. With paws instead of hands. And the world seemed thrice as large and intimidating. 

Well, At least I have shelter from the rain for now.. Though I feel like a wet rat. 

He watched the girl settle down on the couch. 

I wonder how long I can stay here. I need to figure things out..

Then, he heard something that caught his eye. 

“What, you don't recognize me?”

He stared at the video playing on the TV screen. 

“Did you honestly think I would always be the kind hearted boy from your childhood?”

His ears perked up, all pointy, and his eyes widened. 

That's me. 

He watched as the figure on the screen bit an apple as lightning flashed in the background. 

That. Is. Me. On the TV. 

A/N: Interest check? Very self indulgent... Kinda, sorta, really wanna turn this into a one-shot fic maybe... Haha.. Ha.. But I'll have to play through all the content released in the past few months.. 😭

Wrote this half asleep someone bonk me to sleep please

[twistedpink]

Hello! I love your writing sm <3

Could I request General!Lilia with that one military graduation tradition where the soldiers are required to stand still and wait for a loved one to touch them so they can move?

Idk if you know what I'm talking about but like here's an example: https://youtube.com/shorts/2142YOyLS8M?si=0xV64So-Sl_YtVSL

Remember to take care of yourself, drink lots and eat lots so you can stay healthy 🫶

I LOVE THESE VIDEOSSSSSS

General!Lilia’s spent his entire deployment thinking of you at home,, How you may want to remarry, and if you haven’t thought of it already you definitely will once you see him. He’s not the same man you married, and he just barely has the courage to admit to himself it scares him- More than any humans or the senate. The thought of you leaving him is terrifying, but he’d understand in the end. He’s been turned into a monster.

General!Lilia that keeps your clothing in pristine condition his entire deployment despite being filthy himself. You’ve done the charity of sending him the blanket from your wedding bed, a couple socks, and the bane of his existence. Your favourite night shirt. He deludes himself to think still smells of you after months of use- It reeks of the outdoors and his sweat and tears, but he’s never failed to bury his nose in it and feel all giddy.. You cared enough to send these mundanities to him, and they’re his greatest treasures. His last (sleeping) night on duty is spent wearing your socks in your shirt wrapped up snug in your blanket. More than anything, they give him strength.

General!Lilia’s lost so much. His troops and friends, his princess, his morals,, His tap out’s done alone, in a field untouched by the war. A pessimistic, realist part of him’s convinced that you’ll never come, that he deserves to rot in this field. If you were to abandon him here, he wouldn’t make it out alive. Not because it’s particularly dangerous,, But because he’d wait as long as it takes for you to be with him again- Even if you’re no longer “his”.

General!Lilia doesn’t blame the hypothetical you in his head for scorning him- Actually, he thinks you aren’t being harsh enough. He hasn’t earned a kiss or gentle touch, he doesn’t deserve your tender affections anymore. Your husband’s a failure. But he can admit he’s good enough to have stayed loyal at least,, No town flower’s tempted him, nor alley specials for soldiers. He’s never considered himself the romantic altruist type, but if you are to hate him, to leave or slander him, he just wants to look at you one last time. Then he wouldn’t have to worry if he’s failed so miserably that even you fell to the conflict.

When you appear out of the thicket, unmarred by the battle and even looking concerned for him, it’s a massive weight off Lilia’s shoulders. The time you take running across the field feels like a lifetime. You look the same as when he left for war.. You know nothing of the things he’s done, the things he can’t undo. He is not the man you knew. He briefly thinks of flying off- He’s had no difficulty when breaking the rules before, so what’s the difference? He’s sure you’d be better off without him. There’s a barely audible thunk against the metal of his armour when your arms are thrown around his neck, hurriedly removing the bloody mask he wears to see his face again. To see your Lilia safe and sound. Once all the pressure’s released, he wants to deflate, wants to collapse in your arms and weep and kiss and love you again despite the angry, violent thing he’s become,, He settles for hugging you back. He can feel you cry at seeing him so defeated, hear your heart race and smell your smell (The shirt doesn’t do you justice). He allows himself to breathe you in. It’s time to go home <3

@bju3c0re

[rafelandia]

Two Babies (dad!Rafe Cameron x fem!reader)

Word Count: 5.4k

Warnings: angst, mentions of smut, pregnancy

Summary: Y/N is pregnant again before she’s ready.

Author's Note: Hello! Please enjoy my first Rafe one shot. I would love to expand on this couple so if you have any requests or any blurbs you'd like me to explore, please send me a message! As always, likes and reblogs are much appreciated - it helps more than you know. Happy reading :)

“Well, well, well. If it isn’t my favorite tiny human,” the pediatrician chimed as she kicked the door to the small examination room shut with her sneaker.

“You must say that to all of the parents that you see,” Y/N blushed, unable to hide the smile that tugged on the corners of her lips.

“I do, but this is one of the rare times when I actually mean it. Those blonde curls! Are you freakin' kidding me?”

She padded over to the miniature exam table to get a better look at the infant that was lying contently on her back and chewing on her pudgy albeit still tiny fingers. 

“Let’s take a look at how you’re doing, sweet pea.”

The doctor, Melanie, lifted the stethoscope that was looped around her neck and placed it into her ears. Listening to the baby’s heartbeat to check for any abnormalities, she couldn’t help but give a sympathetic frown when the tiny girl under her tensed up from the cool touch of the metal.

“Nurse’s notes say she’s put on quite a bit. She’s finally caught up to her age group in weight. I’m assuming breastfeeding is going better for you both now?”

Melanie lovingly squeezed the extra chub around the baby girl's thighs.

“Yeah. We don’t really use bottles anymore. Finally got her to latch on and now it seems like all she wants to do it eat,” Y/N chuckled.

“Good! That’s good. There’s nothing wrong with formula like we talked about, so don't overexert yourself if becomes too demanding. Breastfeeding is cheaper though," Melanie chucked, though in her head she was kicking herself. As if this family is in any need to save money. "Is she hitting the milestones? Rolling over? Propping her head up? Babbling a bit?” she continued.

“Babbling, definitely. She keeps us up sometimes because we can hear her talking to herself through the monitor at night,” Y/N poked her tongue out at her daughter in an attempt to get her to smile.

“Having a bit of trouble propping herself up though. She can only do it for a little bit and then she’ll give up. She’s got Rafe's big head, so I’m sure it’s a bit of a struggle.”

Melanie laughed loudly at the mention of her patient’s father, admiring Y/N's wittiness even in the absence of her husband. Given the reputation of the Cameron family, others might think the couple were all work and no play, but Melanie had the privilege of getting to know them behind closed doors. While they took doctor's visits seriously, always paying close attention to what the doctors and nurses had to say regarding the health of their firstborn, her experience with the Cameron's changed her outlook completely. Y/N and Rafe were warm, welcoming, and quite funny sometimes - always making jests at each other or sharing little tid-bits of what their life is like at home. She wished everyone could see them this way. Melanie really wasn't lying when she doted on the little girl, they were the best.

“She’ll get to it eventually. All babies are different. She seems to be coming along quite nicely, though. Nothing abnormal or anything to fuss about. A perfectly healthy six-month-old in my book.”

Y/N sighed in relief, though she knew there was nothing to worry over to begin with.

“How’s mum doing? You taking care of yourself, too? You’re just as important as baby.”

“When I can. Rafe's really good with her. He’ll take over when he sees me struggling, but it seems like she only wants me these days. Think I might be coming down with something, though. I’ve been feeling awful for a few weeks. Like I got hit by a train. I keep reminding myself to go get checked out, but I always get distracted taking care of her,” Y/N gestured to her daughter that was now drooling onto the parchment liner and staring up at the ceiling as if there was something ornately interesting about the popcorn texture that had been stippled onto it.

“When you say, ‘hit by a train,’ what do you mean? I can examine you here if you’d like. As long as it’s nothing serious, I can send you something off to the pharmacy.”

Melanie re-fastened the snaps on the infant’s onesie, making sure not to pinch her chunky legs and placed her back into her mother’s lap.

“Ummm,” Y/N began, “Just extra drained, I guess? Kinda nauseous. I’ve been getting migraines a lot and even when I do get a good night’s rest, I still feel like I could go back to bed for the rest of the day. Maybe I’m just exhausted, I don’t really know. But it just feels a bit different than being worn out like I have been before.”

She could see the wheels in Melanie's head turning, noting each of her symptoms and trying to align them in a path that would lead her to the root of the problem.

“Can I ask you something that might be a bit personal?”

Y/N nodded, rubbing her fingers absentmindedly along the bridge of her daughter’s socked foot.

“Have you and Rafe been intimate since she was born?”

She was taken aback by the question, not understanding where Melanie was going with this or why it was relevant.

“Umm,” Y/N stuttered, feeling a static-y surge of embarrassment travel up her neck and onto the sides of her face, “Yeah. We have.”

A whole fucking lot ever since I’ve been cleared for it, Y/N thought, but kept to herself.

“And can you tell me when your last menstrual cycle ended?”

Then it clicked. She genuinely couldn’t recall her most recent period and even the thought of what Melanie was alluding to made her stomach twist into thousands of tiny knots.

“I- I don’t know. I’ve been so busy with her I don’t even really think about what’s going on with me half of the time.”

Y/N tried to make excuses, anything to avoid the obvious, but judging from the quizzical look on her daughter’s pediatrician’s face, she knew exactly where this was going.

“There’s no way,” she whispered, “I can’t be.”

Melanie's face dropped, now tender and apologetic when she realized that this was news Y/N was not ecstatic to hear.

“I know I’m a pediatrician, so that’s obviously the first thing my mind goes to, but can we at least get you to take a blood test? That way we’ll know for sure?”

//

Rafe came home to a quiet house. It wasn’t unusual, but seeing as it was well after six o’clock in the evening and his wife wasn’t in the kitchen making the pasta dish she'd been dying for all week was. Their grocery store had been out of her favorite canned tomatoes for over a week and she’d nearly tackled Rafe to the ground out of excitement when he’d come home from the grocery store with them the night before. Had he not seen her car in the driveway, he probably wouldn’t have even suspected her to be home.

He checked the living room first, and it was desolate apart from the baby pink, quilted playmat on the floor that was littered with a few of his daughter’s favorite rattles and teethers. Y/N's coat and purse were abandoned haphazardly on the couch, almost as if she tossed it aside in a hurry to get somewhere.

“Baby?” Rafe called out.

Nothing.

His head peaked into the nursery, stealthily and quietly in preparation to walk in on his daughter taking her scheduled nap before her actual bedtime. He’d gotten good at hushing his footfalls to almost complete silence as to not wake her, having made that mistake more than a handful of times. 

And he was right. There she was, sprawled out in her crib with her arms outstretched over her head like a tiny starfish. Her chubby cheeks were smushed against her bicep, drawing her lips open the tiniest bit so that Rafe could see the tops of her fleshy, pink gums and the barely-there nub of her first tooth peeking through. More than anything, he wanted to wake her up - lift her from the plush mattress and cuddle her close, shower her with kisses and tickle her with his scruff to hear those baby squeals he adored so much, but he needed to find Y/N first.

She had to be in their bedroom, he thought to himself. Maybe she was taking advantage of their baby girl napping to also get some rest. She had been rather exhausted lately. Maybe she’d had a rough day and was relaxing in the clawfoot, porcelain bathtub that had been the selling point of the home they now lived in. The houses on Figure Eight were lavish, but not all of the bathtubs were - at least that's what Y/N told Rafe. Who was he to question his bride?

Turns out he was right again. Like he had done with the nursery, he held the metal doorknob tightly in his grip to keep the hinges from creeking and pressed it open gently. The room was completely dark, but he could make out the lump underneath the duvet on their king-sized bed as his wife. 

Good. She was sleeping. 

He padded across the hardwood floor, still being as quiet as he could until he crossed the threshold of the bathroom. There, he rid himself of the uncomfortable clothes he’d been wearing all day. Curse these professional business meetings that forced him to dress nicely. 

All throughout the meetings, he wanted nothing more than to be home with his wife and baby, cuddling the afternoon away and watching shitty reality television while his daughter cooed and grunted and gurgled in her baby voice that he loved so much and could listen to all day. He wasn't always this way - he used to love this shit, but something inside him changed indefinitely when his daughter was born. Rafe was a softy now and he wasn't afraid to admit it. Maybe it was the fact that he’d been having to partake in these boring work meetings a lot more lately, which caused him to miss even the smallest aspects of his everyday life like changing diapers or checking the baby monitor eight hundred times throughout the day to make sure his daughter was still breathing. Perhaps he’d just been getting sentimental because she was growing so much these days, but it was an unpleasant feeling nonetheless.

His thoughts were interrupted when he deposited his heavy watch into the dish he kept on the counter and he heard a quiet yet still prominent sniffle among the clattering of metal against the glass dish.

“Baby? You awake?” Rafe peaked his head out from beyond the bathroom door. 

He saw her body shift under the covers, but she gave no response. So he called out again.

“You sick or something? Can hear you sniffling."

Nothing.

Pivoting back around to the inside of the bathroom, he quickly shut off the light and carried himself over to her side of the bed where he could see her properly. Her face was tucked into her chin and all that was visible to him was the top of her head.

“Hey,” Rafe cooed, petting what he could reach of her hair and speaking even gentler than he had been, “What’s wrong?”

And that’s when he heard it - an almost inaudible choking sound of Y/N trying to catch her breath that immediately let him know she wasn’t sick. She had been crying.

“Whoa, baby,” he was already pulling the covers back with force, honestly not caring whether or not she minded the intrusion.

“Tell me what’s going on.”

She was emotionless when he saw what little he could her face, her puffy, bloodshot eyes and swollen lips illuminated by the hallway light being the only indicator that she was upset. She didn’t even react to Rafe tugging her head out from where it had been buried in the covers, simply rolling onto her back to stare idly at the ceiling.

“Y/N,” he called for his wife again, this time much more stern, “You’ve got to talk to me.”

She took several deep breaths through her nose, allowing her lungs to fill to their maximum capacity before exhaling with a sigh. Rafe could have sworn she was sucking all of the oxygen out of the room along with his patience each time she did so. 

After what felt like ages, she parted her lips to speak.

“I went to the doctor today.” 

“Yeah? For the six-month check up, right?” Rafe asked, not seeing why that was important but his mind quickly went to the worst scenario possible despite having just seen his daughter sleeping peacefully in her crib. He cut his eyes towards the hallway in the direction of her nursery before looking back to Y/N.

“Is she alright?” his voice now demanding urgency in the delivery of her response.

“She’s fine,” she quickly dismissed him, internally kicking herself for making Rafe worry.

“I was telling Melanie about how sick I’ve been lately and she -,” Y/N gulped and rubbed her knuckles against her tired eyes, bracing herself for whatever events unfolded after she said what she was about to say.

“She, umm. She made me take a pregnancy test.”

Now it was Rafe turn to be speechless. He stared at her with furrowed brows and his mouth slightly agape. His palms suddenly felt clammy against the white sheets that they rested on and his stomach felt like it had turned in on itself from how badly it was churning. Of all of the things he had expected to be wrong with her, this was certainly the last on the list. 

“And?” he asked after what felt like an eternity of staring at her and saying absolutely nothing, though he already knew the answer.

“Ten weeks.”

Silent tears now spilled over her eyes and down past her temples. She couldn’t even be bothered to wipe them, instead letting them dampen a small patch of hair on either side of her head. Pregnancies weren’t supposed to be sad, but somehow, she had barely been able to stop crying since she left the pediatrician’s office.

“How,” Rafe whispered, moreso to himself than to her.

“I think you know how babies are made, Rafe” Y/N quipped.

“That's not what I meant,” Rafe fired back just as quickly, “It’s just...She’s still so little.”

He thought of his daughter asleep in the next room. She was the most perfect thing he’s ever seen and on the day that she was born, he knew he wanted nothing more than to fill his and Y/N’s house with as many blonde, chubby babies as he could fit beds in each room. He just hadn’t expected that his only child’s first birthday present would be the gift of being a big sister. 

It was all too sudden.

“I just don’t know how I didn’t see it sooner. I mean,” Y/N raised her arms above her head before huffing and letting them fall to her sides, “I guess I was just so caught up with the baby that I hadn’t even had a second to think about what’s going on with me. It’s like I don’t even matter anymore and I-”

“Hey, hey now. Don't do that,” Rafe shushed her and curled up next to her frame as she began to sob.

He tucked her head into his neck, hugging her chest tightly as if he was trying to hold the pieces of her together before she shattered. His mind was running a mile per minute. It killed him to see her like this, killed him to be in this situation. The last time they had found out this news, there were happy tears - tears of shock and excitement about taking the next step in building a family. Never had he imagined that the next time they were presented with the very same news, that there would be tears of sadness.

Her voice was muffled against his now wrinkled button-down, but he could still make out what she was saying beneath her blubbers.

“I can’t do this.”

“What do you mean, honey? Of course you can. I can take more time off work like last time and let the boys handle everything for a bit. I know it's not ideal, but we’ll be alright,” he ran his hand up and down her arm in an attempt to soothe her.

“That’s the problem, Rafe.”

He lifted his chin from here it was resting on the top of her head to look down at her.

“What?”

“It's not ideal. You've only just now gotten back to work full time. You said everything almost fell apart while you were gone. It would fuck everything up. Plus, she's only six months old, Rafe. I can't go through that again so soon."

Rafe paused to break away from her and sit up straight against the headboard, “Are you serious? Of course I can take more time off work. You are more important than anything that could possibly be going on at the office.” He was a bit stunned by her words. She almost sounded annoyed, which didn't sit quite right with Rafe.

“But do you see what’s happening? Everything is fucked.”

His voice wasn’t so calm anymore.

“No, Y/N. I honestly don’t. I mean I know this is all happening much earlier than we expected, but what else is there to do? Will you please tell me what you're getting at, because I’m starting to get upset.” 

Rafe's lips were pressed in a thin, straight line and his nostrils flared with every breath. Why was she being like this? 

“I don’t know what I’m fucking getting at. I’m just overwhelmed."

“And you think I’m not? I'm trying my best to keep it together for your sake if you haven’t noticed,” it almost condescending the way the words rolled off his tongue.

“Oh, excuse me,” Y/N laughed sarcastically.

“Didn’t realize you were the one that's pregnant. Didn’t realize you’re the one that has to grow all big and gross and swollen and be in pain every fucking day to the point where walking to the bathroom feels like a fucking marathon. Didn’t realize you’re the one that has to feel like you're burning alive from the inside out for hours and then just have to lay there while a doctor you’ve never seen before stitches you up because it literally tore your insides apart. Didn’t realize you-”

“For fuck’s sake, I get it!” Rafe was yelling now. They hadn't argued like this since they were much younger, and he absolutely hated it.

“It’s not the same and I’m sorry for suggesting that it was. I'm not sure what you want me to say though. I’m sorry? Is that it? Sorry for getting you pregnant? Sorry for having a job that helps us get anything we want for ourselves and our family? Sorry that I do everything I possibly can to keep you and the baby and everyone else on the fucking planet happy?”

“You’re being an asshole, Rafe,” she was just as angry as he was, scowl evident on her face even in their dimly lit bedroom.

“And you’re not making any fucking sense! Are you telling me you don’t want to keep it? Because I never fucking said that you have to.”

The thought had crossed her mind on the drive home from the doctor’s office, but the feeling left as quickly as it approached. She’d taken one look at her daughter in her car seat through the rear view mirror happily sucking on her teether and knew without a doubt that she couldn’t.

She felt a tidal wave of fresh, salty tears peaking and about to crash over her.

“I don’t want - fuck,” she put her head in her hands. 

“I just-,” and then she broke.

Sobs wracked her body, making her shoulders shake up and down. She wasn’t even sure how she had any more left to get out, but it just kept coming. Over and over and over again until it felt like she was being suffocated and that no one was going to save her. She felt Rafe's hands move to rest on her shoulder blades and heard gentle, cooing-like sounds coming out of his mouth, but she couldn’t make out what he had said over the sounds of her own wailing.

“Baby, it’s okay. Just breathe. It’s alri-”

His attempt at subduing her was cut short by shrill cries coming from the digital monitor that sat on their nightstand. Rafe peeked over his shoulder at the screen, seeing that their daughter had woken from her nap and was now demanding the attention of her parents. He couldn’t help but wince as he watched her socked feet flail around in the crib; it was without a doubt that the screaming match they’d just had that stirred her from her sleep, and that hurt him just as much as it did to see his wife crying right in front of him.

Y/N heard it too, somehow. Perhaps it was because she’d been trained to react to every minute sound that she made and could recognize her cries from a mile away in the paralyzing fear that something was wrong with her or maybe it was because she looking for any and every excuse to get Rafe's hands off of her so she could get away from him and escape the argument they’d just had without making the situation any worse than it already was. Regardless, she turned her own neck to peer at the monitor and sighed heavily.

“I’ll go, Y/N. Just stay here.”

“No. I got it. It’s after seven. She’s probably hungry.”

She shrugged Rafe's hands away from her shoulders like his touch physically pained her and climbed over his body and off the bed without another word, not even giving Rafe the chance to take her hand and help her over the edge of the mattress. He knew she wasn’t going anywhere but down the hall and into the nursery, but he couldn’t help but feel like she was walking away from everything.

//

Y/N stared her daughter while she nursed. She started from the top of her head that was riddled with sandy blonde curls and worked her way down to the tips of her toes that would occasionally flex themselves out of habit. Her hair? Undoubtedly Rafe's. Her eyes? A perfect, entrancing shade of blue akin to Rafe's. Her lips? The same almost inhuman shade of fleshy pink, just like Rafe's. Surprisingly, the only physical trait she’d inherited from her mother was her nose, which was funny considering that Y/N had always hated hers.

She was content, suckling away at Y/N’s breast - her cries of hunger long forgotten. The infant hadn’t even flinched when a few more of Y/N’s silent, cold tears spilled over and left small wet spots where her onesie rested over her belly. She had no idea that her parents were upset with each other and she had no idea that in a little more than six months time, she’d be a big sister and there would be two babies fighting for their attention. Y/N was also clueless, but only as to how she was going to take care of a newborn and a one-year-old simultaneously. She’d always thought she’d have more time than this - more time to spend with just her daughter and Rafe before they decided to have another, but just like her eyes, things always had a funny way of never working out in her favor.

Three soft knocks on the wall withdrew her from her thoughts and she was greeted by her husband idling in the doorway like he needed permission before entering a room in his own house. It was off seeing Rafe Cameron this way - being the one with his tail tucked beneath his legs. It was usually the opposite. He had changed out of his work clothes and was now clad in his favorite pair of sweats that were permanently stained with spit-up. Y/N had tried everything under the sun to get the spots out, but he’d been persistent on not throwing them out.

“Can I come in?”

His voice was barely above a whisper and much calmer than when he’d been yelling at her about twenty minutes ago. He still hesitated crossing the threshold even after Y/N had given him a skeptical nod, but allowed his bare feet to pad over the plush carpet as he joined her on the loveseat in the far corner of the nursery.

He watched their daughter just as Y/N had, taking in her tranquil state as her fingers brushed reflexively against the underside of Y/N’s breast. He’d never been able to pry his eyes away every time he watched her nurse. There were no ulterior motives behind it whatsoever. It amazed him each and every time, how Y/N was able to provide their child with everything that they needed to grow with only her body. At first, Y/N hated that Rafe loved sitting in on her feedings, feeling exposed and unattractive despite Rafe's continuous affirmations that it was the most beautiful thing he’d ever had the privilege of witnessing, but over time she’d grown fond of it.

“I'm sorry for yelling at you,” Rafe started.

“It was uncalled for,” she quipped.

Y/N sniffled, rubbing her swollen eyes with the back of her free hand that wasn’t supporting her daughter’s back as she held her.

“It’s okay. It was a lot to take in. I’m sorry for yelling at you too.”

She couldn’t quite look him in the eye just yet, but she was slowy but surely getting there.

“It's not okay, actually. You’re right. I’m not the one having the baby. It’s you that’s got to do all the hard stuff and I know how scary it was last time. I should've been more considerate before jumping the gun.”

He shifted towards her on the cushions, afraid to touch her just yet but still yearning to be closer to her.

The best Y/N could muster was a quiet, “Thank you,” before she busied herself by attempting to run her fingers through her baby’s hair and untangle the mess she’d created while she was sleeping.

“Can I hold you? Please?” his voice was quiet and pleading.

Now was when she turned to face him and she was met with eyes that were just as red-rimmed as hers. She had heard the bathroom sink running for an abnormally long amount of time and a hard, frustrated pounding against the wall shortly after she’d gone off in the nursery to feed the baby, which meant he must have been trying to muffle the sounds of his own crying when she left their bedroom.

Y/N didn’t say anything, only shifting her weight onto one side so Rafe could easily lift her onto his lap in one swift movement without disturbing their daughter. He tucked her shoulder into his neck and softly kissed her skin and his hands moved to mimic hers so they were both holding the baby that was nodding off again in their arms. She found herself relaxing into his loose grip, her head tilting to the side to rest against his. 

“I love you so much. You know that? I’d drop everything for you if I had to. I don't care about any of it anymore.”

“No, you wouldn’t,” she refuted, but there was no malice in her tone.

“I wouldn’t let you. You try to play it cool and I know that things are different now, but I also know that deep down you really like what you do.” The corner of Rafe's lips turned upwards, suppressing a chuckle at the fact that she really does know him that well.

“Well, just know that I would if you wanted me to. I’ve thought about it a thousand times. I want to be here for you. For her. Don’t want to miss anything. I finally got my shot at being normal when I met you and I hate myself sometimes when I think about all of the bullshit I've put you through.”

“Don’t,” Y/N paused to press a chaste kiss to Rafe's cheek.

“You’re a good person, Rafe's. A good dad. A good husband. Please don’t ever think that you’re not.”

She felt moisture pool in the dips of her collarbones where Rafe's chin lied, but she didn’t acknowledge it.

“I’ll be okay. Sorry if I freaked you out earlier. Think I just need some time to get used to it all. Just wasn’t expecting Melanie to drop the ball that I was pregnant when all I was expecting was for her to tell me that our kid is in the 99th percentile for weight and then send me on my way.”

This got a chuckle out of him, almost causing him to choke on his tears. He quickly rubbed the sleeves of his sweatshirt against his eyes to dry up any remaining wet spots on his face. 

“She is pretty chunky, isn’t she?” Rafe jested while thumbing over his daughter’s rounded tummy.

After a moment of admiring their little chunk of a baby, with her milk-drunk eyes and puckered lips, Rafe spoke again.

“Two babies,” he huffed.

“Two babies,” she repeated.

His hands moved to caress Y/N’s stomach. She wasn’t showing yet considering that neither of them had even known Y/N was pregnant until today, but he still held her like her belly was the size of a watermelon and he was waiting anxiously to feel a hand or a foot press up against his palm.

“Might be kinda nice. They can share everything and we’ll only have to have one birthday party because they’ll be born around the same time. They’ll go to the same school and probably have the same friends. Kinda like twins.”

“Are you hearing yourself? Rafe Cameron? The party connoisseur? Suggesting his two precious babies share a birthday party?”

Rafe pursed his lips and blushed, recalling the fact that he'd already planned his daughter's first birthday in his head. Down to the tablecloth colors and dinnerware.

“Got me there,” Rafe chuckled.

Their banter was interrupted by a grueling rumbling sound coming from Y/N’s stomach that Rafe could feel throughout his entire body.

“Jesus, Y/N. You hungry too? When’s the last time you ate?”

“Uhh...this morning I think?” Y/N sighed.

“Couldn’t stomach anything when I got home.”

Rafe's heart dropped when he thought of how distraught she’d been all day while he was gone and with everything in him, he’d wished he would have postponed his meetings to go to check up with her and they could have found out together.

“Found those tomatoes at the store the other day, remember? Want me to make that pasta for you?”

“Ohh, yes please,” she immediately perked up at the thought.

“Starting to wonder if that was a craving now that I think about it. Didn’t we have it, what? Three nights in a row a while back?” she proposed.

Rafe giggled as he reluctantly removed Y/N from his lap and stood up from the sofa.

“Thought it was a bit weird that you wanted it so badly, but I know better than to question you.”

“She’s going back down. If you give me a minute, I’ll come downstairs and help you,” Y/N said, pulling up the straps of her tank top after realizing her daughter had long since forgotten about her breast and was conked out in her arms.

“I've got it, mama” Rafe quickly refuted. “Take a bath or something and I’ll bring it up when it’s done.”

“Okay.”

Y/N couldn’t fight the grin growing on her face at the nickname Rafe used that she still hadn’t gotten used to.

When she placed their daughter soundly in her crib, Y/N’s fingers stayed put from where they sat on the railing as she caught herself staring at the sleeping infant once more. Though she’d felt like her world was caving in on her just a handful of hours ago, the pieces were all coming back together now. 

Of course, she wanted more children with Rafe. And now she was getting what she wanted. Just like he’d told her back in the bedroom, it wasn’t ideal, but they’d make it work. They always did. 

With two babies.

[kaetastic]

Goodnight Prank

pairing: Ex-Husband!Aaron Hotchner x Reader

summary: After being inspired by the TikTok trend of calling your exes to wish them goodnight, Aaron Hotchner is surprised with a call from his ex-wife.

word count: 1.3k

warning: straight up fluff

note: Also, this wouldn't be me because I would've never let go of him sooooo

Even though exhaustion hadwrapped around his muscles, his body ached to be scrubbed off in the shower and melted back into the comforts of his bed, Aaron could not give in just yet. It might've not been a day where they were on the field, an uncommon occurrence really, but he'd rather tackle down an unsub than do paperwork.

A heavy sigh left his lips as he glanced to his side. His eyes met the darkness that shadowed the empty tables of his team. Stacks of folders and valuables documents sat as piles on their desk. Looking back at his table, his stack had decreased significantly from what seemed impossible. However, it did force him to stay longer than he had intended to—2 hours past his usual clock-out. Some days fell inevitable.

The folder he laid across his table stared up at him, waiting patiently for him to wrap it up. Rereading the sentence he had read at least four times already, the words were a jumbled-up mess, Aaron repositioned himself on his seat to get back into the mood he started with. Just a few more. With his ink pen ready in hand, he was ready to scribble the same signature he had jotted down more than twelve times already.

RINGGGG. The abrupt noise cut through the empty air. Eyebrows furrowed in confusion, the phone buzzed, screaming for his attention. Aaron snatched it. Was it another emergency case? He hoped not, because he didn't want to deal with the hassle of calling his team. All the dreaded thoughts about another mission left his body once his eyes read the caller’s ID. A relieved exhale calmed down his nerves. It was just Y/N. But then like a cracked open dam, his heart picked up its pace. Nervousness from anticipation. Why is she calling? Is she in danger?

Not allowing the phone to cycle through another ring, Aaron interjected midway—silencing its cries, “Hello Y/N.” He was up from his seat. More like shot up, and that usually meant business.

"Hey Aaron," She responded. Sitting cross-legged on her sofa with a blanket thrown over her lap, Y/N played with the cold metal of her bracelet. It had been one of those self-care nights: hair wash day, body shaved, skin shining from body oil, and teeth shining from whitening strips—she felt like she could take over the world. Maybe because she had already miraculously won the battle in the shower, to end up in her best pyjamas under her fluffiest blanket. "Am I disturbing?"

The unit chief shook his head—forgetting that he was behind a screen and that she could not see him. She had that effect on him. "No, not at all." Clearing his throat to remove the obstruction in his throat, his mouth suddenly forgot how to function. "You okay? You... don't usually call."

A small chuckle pressed into his ear, "Yeah. I don't, huh?"

Playing a soft smile on his lips, Aaron played with the pens that sat on his desk—arranging them in their organized, proper way as his mind focused every second of the call. Anything that he could get from her. Every breath, every laugh.

"Whatcha doin'?" Y/N inquired, reaching for the TV remote.

"Working, you know—the usual." Aaron sat on the edge of his desk, readying himself for the lecture he just dragged himself into. He could've lied. He could've said he was in bed, just reading a little bit before hitting it off to snooze land, but a small part of him wanted this, wanted to hear her lecture like old times.

"What?" All it took was to glance at a clock. "Aaron, it's twelve in the morning and your ass is in the office?" Even though they'd had this conversation more than she could count, Aaron was stubborn. She remembered strange hours of nights when she drove herself to his office just to drag him back home. Home. Suddenly, the walls of her house caved in. Short core memories they shared knocked on her door, flooding her thoughts. A glance was thrown to the empty side of the sofa he would sit at, the sofa they had bought together.

All the exhaustion he had felt not too long ago had left his body. Other men would let out the heaviest sigh and end the call—especially when it was a call with their ex-wife, but not Aaron Hotchner. No, he grinned. "Yeah? Guess I lost track of time."

"You always lose track of time, Aaron Hotchner, you can't be doing this." Y/N scolded, rolling her eyes. "I can hear your joints creaking all the way here."

Shaking his head at her audacity, Aaron let out a laugh, already expecting her to say that. However, she had him beat as she said it before the 1-minute mark he had expected. A con of being a profiler. A curse and a blessing. He responded, "Alright, don't be mean now. I'm not that old."

"That's not what you said when we first met."

Aaron huffed, "Maybe I should ask you then missy, why are you up at this time?"

"Wouldn't you wanna know, weather boy?" Before he could interject and question, she cut him off. "Cleaned my whole place today. I think we might have matching joints now."

"Welcome to the club," God, Aaron felt his cheeks pinch and sting from how much he was smiling. Maybe it wouldn't have hurt as much if he had smiled more. He thought he couldn't grin wider, but he did once he heard a laugh from the other end. "Well, you needed me?"

An 'oh' came from her lips as she realized why she called him. Repositioning herself on her seat to lock back in, she rested her feet on the sofa. She inhaled a bit before she got to the fun part, "I just wanted to say goodnight."

Aaron blinked, processing her words, "Goodnight?"

She hummed, "Yeah, I'm ready for bed and jus' wanted to say goodnight before I snooze off." It took a lot from her to not let a laugh escape because she knew if one wrong breath went out—she was done for. She would blow her cover.

Aaron wasn’t sure if it was the lack of sleep finally catching up to him or if his age had caught up to the point he might’ve lost his hearing because he truly could not comprehend what was going on. He picked up on the small laugh, “Are you okay?” He asked. “Are you drunk? Do you need me to come over?”

She couldn’t help the laughter from escaping. After gathering herself back, she responded, “I’m fine Aaron, really, and I’m not drunk. Just wanted to wish you a goodnight and sleep tight.”

Aaron took time to process her words, still unconvinced with her words, “Are you high?”

“What?” She half-screamed, fully amused at his accusations. “Aaron, I am perfectly fine. I have not had any sip of alcohol, I am not smoking a blunt right now, and I am also not doing coke. Can a girl not wish you goodnight?”

“Of course, you can,” Aaron responded, his tone as if she had asked a rhetorical question.

“Alright then," Y/N beamed, expressing too much energy for someone at midnight, especially after claiming victory in her bathroom. "Goodnight Aaron.” The words sounded coy, almost as if there was an underlying intention.

Aaron smiled, rounding to the seating side of his desk, and pulling open the drawer to reveal his wedding band that he shared with her. He felt like a high schooler again, “Goodnight, missy.”

“Byee,” Y/N sang softly, picking at the unravelling threads of her blanket. The call had dragged on longer than she had expected, filled with comfortable silence, and Aaron Hotchner still had remaining files waiting.

“Bye, Y/N.”

Silence stretched, familiar and tranquil.

“...Okay, bye Aaronn.”

“Bye, Y/N.”

Squinting at her screen, seeing the number increase with every quiet second, she laughed, “Why aren’t you ending the call?” God, she felt like a middle schooler as she raised the blanket to her face, covering her joyous face.

Aaron shrugged, taking out the gleaming ring onto his palm, “Maybe I just wanted to hear your voice.”

“You’re so dumb.”

“Am not.”

Another silent beat.

“Bye Aaron!”

“Bye Y/N.”

Then as if another caller, silence entered their call. The type of silence that you enjoy just listening to their breaths. She could feel her heartbeat pick up as she blurted out, "I made cookies."

"Hm?" Aaron fidgeted with the silver ring between his fingers, his body moving on its own will as he slipped it on where it used to sit.

Her tongue darted out to wet her lips, "Wanna come over?"

Aaron's grip on the device tightened, "Fifth floor?"

With a 'yeah', the call ended. That was all it took for her to jump from her couch to spray her house with whatever house spray she could get her hands on. The ones Aaron liked. Maybe she would win another battle, this time in her bed.

[paulyenvol6]

the shirt stays on

I need another three business days to recover from Pedro at Cannes and, obviously I had to write something about the sleeveless look. This is dirty and smutty and involves a strong hand/arm kink of course. I'm so serious, this is the hottest a man has ever looked.

And send me your request please I need inspiration!!

Contains: smut, p in v, unprotected sex, oral sex (f & m receiving), fingering, dirty talk, choking, little bit of biting, ARM AND HAND KINK, Pedro and reader are married, reader is down bad for Pedro, talking of offspring, creampie, size difference, slightest hint of a breeding kink, tooth-rotting fluff, nicknames (baby, sweetpea)

Wordcount: 6,914

Masterlist

"Jesus fucking Christ, Pedro…," you slapped your hand over your mouth, supressing a gasp as your husband turned in circles in front of you.

"Did I promise too much?"

You rolled your eyes and nothing hinted at the fact that your rapidly pounding heart would slow down any time soon.

"You know I'm not gonna be able to let you go like that," you whispered through clenched teeth, but your serious facade crumbled when Pedro approached you, sliding his arms around your waist and palming your flesh.

"Mhmm, is that so?" he whispered in your ear and you reflexively grabbed his bicep, his muscles tantalisingly hard, yet soft under your grip.

"You're fucking killing me, you know that right?" you said, but it sounded more like a cry.

"That's why I'm wearing this. Why else, if not for you?"

You dropped your shoulders, pressed a gentle kiss onto his upper arm, and couldn't stop yourself from carefully grazing his skin with your teeth.

"Careful, sweetheart. I can't walk the red carpet with bite marks all over my body."

"Oh just shut up. As if you wouldn't enjoy the attention…"

Pedro laughed and secured his hold on you, his thumb drawing circles over the small of your back.

"I can't believe you're real," you continued, not scared to freely speak your mind in his presence.

"You have to stop or I'm gonna get out there with my face all flushed from your compliments," he lowly whispered, sounding amused, but then got serious as he cradled your head and kissed your cheek.

"I wish you could come with me," he sighed, pulling back and giving you his puppy eyes that never failed to make you weak in your knees.

"Me too… But you're gonna have a good time. Say hello to Emma from me, will you?"

You smiled as you trailed a hand up his jaw, careful not to mess up his perfectly styled hair.

"I will. And you're gonna stay up for me, right?"

You rolled your eyes, head shaking in disbelief as your feverish skin slowly began to cool down again now that you were starting to get used to his gorgeous appearance. Not that you would ever seriously get used to it, of course. In fact, you believed you would never be the same person you had been three minutes ago. Not after you had seen Pedro looking this gorgeous.

"Of course I will. You think I could even possibly sleep knowing that you're out there looking like this?"

Pedro leaned in to kiss you, the smile glued to his lips and you had no choice but to return it although you already regretted the fact that he was about to leave for a couple of hours.

This was just him. When you saw him happy, your stomach always fluttered with nerves, the little butterflies dancing and rejoicing and your insides turning upside down. And now wasn't an exception, you realised as the adrenaline was pumping through your veins, your fingertips and the end of every nerve in your body prickling with steaming heat.

Your mouth was dry as Pedro took a step back and your eyes involuntarily wandered down his body. The black leather loafers with metallic spikes across the upper part, the high waisted trousers and of course the centerpiece of the outfit, the sleeveless black top that showcased not only his toned bicep, but also the side of his body, due to the deep cutout at the armholes. Something about it genuinely made you feel like Pedro had chosen this outfit just for you, who had a not-so-secret obsession with his arms and hands.

"Oh baby," he now laughed and instead of finally leaving the hotel room, headed back to you and pulled you into yet another hug, this time pressing what felt like a million kisses to your hairline.

"You know I'm a sucker for you being all needy and clingy," he mumbled, holding you snug against his broad chest. You were close to starting to pur like a cat.

"Congrats, then," you whined and dropped your head to his chest, peacefully closing your eyes while inhaling his perfume. To be fair, you didn't really feel at peace. Inside of you, there was a thunder, your stomach unable to settle and the blood in your veins throbbing as if you weren't Pedro's wife of five years, but a teenage girl who had a crush for the first time in her life. You felt hot-headed, your palms sticky with sweat and you didn't even want to think about the state of your underwear. You needed him religiously and part of you couldn't understand that he was about to walk out of the hotel room.

That was until there was a loud knock on the door and Pedro hummed deep in his chest, the vibrations rushing through your body.

"I'll be right there," he shouted and gently lifted your head from his chest. "I'm so fucking sorry, baby."

You definitely didn't want him to feel bad so you forced your lips to curl into a smile, but you weren't successful. Well, maybe it was just that Pedro could read you like a book.

"I'll make it up to you later… You just gotta be patient for a few hours and watch a movie or read a little and then I'll be back and..." - He kissed up your jaw until his lips were pressed to your temple, your pulse rumbling behind your skin - "I won't stop."

You chuckled and stroked down his arms while Pedro watched you with a broad grin.

"I promise, I just won't stop. Gonna stay all night right there between your thighs if that's what you want."

You reached up to wrap your arms around his neck one last time, swaying the both of you to the side while your hot breath brushed over his ear.

"The shirt stays on."

It was almost three hours later now and you were lying on your stomach on the bed, your chin resting on the palm of your hand while you scrolled through your phone feeling bored. You had listened to Pedro's advice and rewatched an old Star Wars movie and although you loved the franchise, your thoughts had occasionally wandered elsewhere. After that, you had tried to read, but it turned out to be even more frustrating because you couldn't focus on the pages, the letters blurring before your eyes while you couldn't ban the picture of Pedro's arms in this goddamn top from your head.

After torturing yourself for another 30 minutes you had given up, went to the bathroom and changed into your favorite set of underwear in a flash of inspiration. It was olive green, simple, but the bra had a little bit of lace tracing the cups. You hoped that once Pedro was back your underwear wouldn't stay on your body for very long, but you sometimes liked to dress up a little bit just to feel even more comfortable and sexy in your skin than he was already capabale of making you feel.

So now you were lying with a jeans and one of Pedro's sweaters hiding the fancy underwear while scrolling through instagram. Of course your feed was full of pictures of your husband and you were soon to figure out that it wasn't helping your situation. Each image was more beautiful than the last: his adorable smile when he faced the cameras, the wink of his eye and the way his bicep flexed when he hugged one of his fellow cast members.

Your breathing was heavy and longing as your eyes were fixed on the small screen, your pupils flickering to the time every few minutes. As if the wait wasn't already long enough, you knew he was at a press conference at that very moment, so it would certainly be another 30 minutes before he got back to the hotel.

You sighed and dropped your head so that your forehead rested on your phone while your legs were dangling in the air. Your thoughts unconsciously wandered to Pedro again. If you hadn't known how much your husband enjoyed your swooning and yearning, you certainly would have felt bad. But Pedro was never shy to admit that he loved to feel desired by you and lord have mercy, you were happy to oblige.

The position with your brow touching your phone display turned out to be surprisingly comfortable which was why you remained like that. Your eyes were closed, Pedro appearing before you in short periods of time and your ribcage expanding with steady, but heavy breaths.

Soon you noticed that the air in the hotel room was too warm and stuffy so you propped yourself on your elbows and then crawled off the bed to open a window. It was still warm outside, but it was definitely better than the stifling, thick air in here. You were just about to turn around to get back on the bed when you suddenly heard a noise outside your room and froze, your pulse loud in your ears.

When the door opened, your heart skipped a beat or two and your adrenaline made you run the few feet separating you from Pedro and jump in his arms. He deeply laughed, but caught you in the air, securing you with his arms sliding around your waist as you trapped him with your legs crossed behind his back.

"I missed you so much," you complained against his neck, your hands playing with the baby hair in his nape that you finally got to touch without the fear of ruining his perfectly styled curls and getting in trouble with Coco.

"Mhmmm I missed you too," Pedro replied while turning around so he could close the door behind him without having to put you down. The fact that he was able to carrry you so casually with one arm made a very familiar wetness soak your underwear and you giggled against his collarbone, inhaling the smell of sun and him.

"Pedro," you whined, not exactly sure what you were asking him for.

"I know," he answered nevertheless, the sound of his voice making your pussy throb and you reflexively started to rock your center against his abdomen.

"Gonna take care of you now, baby."

Your eyes rolled back at the promise and you were just about to surrender to the body contact and let yourself go with your eyes shut close, but then your mushy brain remembered what you had yearned for all night and your gaze instantly fell upon his bicep again that was flexed from carrying your weight. Of course Pedro noticed it and of course he reacted with a wry grin, his eyes glistening with the same beautiful spark he had left you with three hours ago.

"I know, I know, baby," he just whispered and lowly chuckled when he felt you stroke up and down his arm, your pupils blown and your expression in awe of the smooth skin covering his thick muscles.

"All of the Marvel training," he then giggled and tensed his bicep on purpose just to watch your eyes widen.

"Pedro," you moaned once more, your inability to speak clearly apparent to both of you, but Pedro knew what you wanted anyway.

"Don't be shy," he hissed, one hand on your back travelling south to dig into where your back met your ass crease.

"You know I want you to take from me what you want. You can touch it and bite and lick it… Whatever you want, sweetheart, you know that."

You whimpered again, perhaps overhelmped with the options, your eyes frantically springing between his hands, underarms and shoulders. Deciding to leave the choice for later, you pressed your mouth against his, your lips greedily sucking at his bottom lip while you buried your hands into his muscles, tracing the outlines of his bicep and kneading the flesh which soon made Pedro groan.

"Jesus… you're killing me, baby."

Your pulse thundered up your throat and you couldn't remember ever wanting someone or something as much as you wanted him. Your body was so hot, you were convinced you would go up in flames if you wouldn't take some of your clothes off soon. On that note, Pedro was clearly aware that the oversized hoodie you were drowning in belonged to him because he fisted the fabric and chuckled deeply while you were still busy exploring every inch of his arms that were covered with a thin layer of sweat, either caused by the warm temperatures in Cannes or by what was happening right now. You preferred to think that it was the latter.

"I think I know this one…," he whispered referring to the hoodie, his jaw clenching when he slipped his hands under the piece of clothing and palmed your waist.

"Just missed you," you whined and now kissed your way down to his shoulder where you were finally allowed to bury your teeth into his skin, careful not to hurt him of course. Pedro gasped, slightly throwing his head back as he traced along your ribs and spine in turns.

"You wanna get on the bed, sweetpea?" he growled, the nickname much too soft and sweet for his husky voice, but you nodded with your head, tightening your arms around his neck while he carried you over to the big hotel bed.

He carefully lay you down on your back his hands unwillingly leaving your waist to rub his palms together as his hungry eyes followed every move and twitch of your body. The hoodie had slid up your body a little and the thin strip of bare skin was enough for Pedro to bite his lip and wipe over his brow with the back of his hand.

"Shit, baby… You look so pretty with my hoodie on."

Then he adjusted his shirt, prompting you to immediately let out a whine of complaint, as you were scared he was about to take it off. But Pedro just shook his head in amusement and then leaned down to take off his shoes that were probably worth more than this whole trip to Cannes.

"Don't worry, sweetpea. I promised you it's gonna stay on."

Once he had carelessly kicked them off, his mind somewhere else already he finally approached the bed. Your legs were pressed together, the heat pooling in between almost making you squeal with frustration although you knew that Pedro was about to make it better just like he always made things better.

"Please," you still whispered when he knelt on the bed and reached out to cradle your head.

"What, baby? Tell me what you want."

Mindless thoughts flickered in your head as you tried to get a hold on yourself, at least to be able to form a coherent sentence and tell him what you wanted.

"I wanna taste you," you eventually moaned, your eyes already on the outline of the tent beneath his trousers.

"Oh Christ, baby…," he swallowed to fight his dry throat, but moved closer to kiss you. "You sure you don't want me to take care of you first?"

"Yes, I'm sure," you whispered against his soft lips, clutching the fabric of his tight black top and feeling his firm torso through your fingertips. Pedro took your bottom lip between his and sucked it softly until he released it with a plop. He then took in the needy glint in your eyes.

"Alright…," he murmured and sank down on the mattress once you made room for him, his back resting against the wall behind the bed and his legs slightly parted.

Meanwhile, you moved to settle between his legs, your hands splayed across his thighs and the cool fabric of his pants a thrilling contrast to your feverish and sweaty palms. And then you ran your gaze up his body and you almost let out an involuntary moan. Of course you knew how fit Pedro was – you would have to be blind to miss the effects of the intense training for the fantastic four movie on his body, but this outfit made them especially visible. You just couldn't get over the veins on his wrists and the way his hugs bicep jiggled every time he made a sudden movement.

You must have been a sight, staring at him with round eyes, your lips dry and a stunned expression on your face while you couldn't get a word out. Pedro smirked again and reached out to touch your elbows, slowly trailing up your arms until he put them on your shoulders.

"You know I love seeing you wearing my clothes, but can I take this off?" he asked, rubbing the fabric between his fingertips.

You gave a nod and helped him by lifting your arms so he could pull the hoodie over your head and throw it on the floor next to the bed. You could see the bob of his adam's apple and the deep gulp as his gaze fell upon your stomach and chest that was beautifully hugged by the olive green bra. Pedro would never hesitate to tell you that he loved the way you looked, no matter what you were wearing, and that he would still be swooing over you even if you wore a garbage bag. But when you felt especially confident in your favourite underwear, he was a fan of that too. Your comfort in your own body made your whole appearance glow — a beautiful light surrounding your frame as you sat on your heels in front of Pedro. He truly felt like the luckiest man alive.

"My god…," he said, his voice quiet, but thick with awe and silent appreciation.

When he brought his hand to your waist you leaned in to his touch, pressing yourself against him while he palmed your flesh. The motion was more than convenient for the both of you because he got to feel the softness of your flush skin while you were able to see his bicep flex, the dim light in the hotel room emphasising every curve and line so stunningly.

The two of you remained in this position for a little longer before you couldn't hold back any more and placed your hand on his dick that pressed hard against his pants. He hissed out through gritted teeth, his breath catching in his throat as his eyes followed the movement of your hand. You slowly began to palm him, your hand massaging the bulge that felt firm and hard against you. Pedro's hand on your side tensed as his tip twitched and you could feel his fingers digging into your flesh, stinging, but showing you the arousing impact of your actions.

"Fuck. Baby, fuck…"

You took your bottom lip between your teeth, giving him a broad smik while feeling him grow harder under your touch. Soon it wasn't enough for either of you, Pedro biting his lip bloody while you were yearning for a taste of him so you stopped palming him through his pants and instead fumbled with the zip of his pants. Once you had opened the button and started to shove them down his hips, he lifted them to help you. When they dangled around his knees, you did the same procedure to his boxers, your eyes tearing at your desire for him at the sight of his stiff, leaking dick that looked like it desperately craved a release.

Pedro's eyes followed yours, but before he could run his dirty mouth again, you had already lowered your head and pressed little kisses on his length. He clearly hadn't expected you to go straight to work because he gasped and jerked forward, his hands reflexively reaching for your head.

"Jesus!" he spitted out, his mouth falling open as you showered his dick with as much adoration and affection as you possibly could. You traced along every vein and line, licking off every drop of precum and pumping with your hands what you couldn't reach with your mouth.

You loved the way he felt around your hand, the skin soft, sleek and warm and almost a little silky when you went up and down his shaft. And the way he tasted… Musky and salty, but there was another note that you weren't able to identify. It was just him and you couldn't get enough of it.

"Sweetpea, I'm not gonna last long," he warned you after a while, his grip around your scalp tight, but not to guide or force you, but rather to cling to something while you made him lose his mind.

"Mhmm, okay," you teased, rubbing with your thumb over his tip while your tongue trailed a line down his dick to kitten-lick his balls.

"Jesus, baby… God, you needa… Fuck…," he stuttered, unable to speak his mind, but you just giggled and suddenly felt very powerful with him falling apart under your touch.

"That's perfect," he growled, eyes rolled back in his head as you finally took him down your throat, not very deep, but enough to bob your head around his length. You reminded yourself to slide your tongue around his glans from time to time, knowing how sensitive he was there and it most certainly had the desired effect.

"Baby, I'm serious. I'm really fucking close," he panted, his pupils struggling to focus on you as they threatened to drift upward at the feeling of your warm, wet mouth around him. Pedro gave your hair a gentle tug that finally made you stop and you darted up to him.

"You don't wanna cum?" you asked, your lips forming a playful pout that made him groan once more.

"Shit, of course I wanna cum, but I need to take care of you first."

Your heart fluttered at his words, and so did your dripping pussy that painfully clenched, your clit throbbing for any kind of friction.

"C'mon. Lay down, okay? Gonna make you feel really good," he breathed, still trying to control his pounding heart and exhaled when you pulled off him with a wet sound and sat back on your heels.

"Jesus fucking Christ, you're gonna kill me," Pedro whispered more to himself while making room so you could lay down where he had rested with his head against the bedrest a second ago.

"Pedro?" you quietly asked once your head touched the cushions.

"Yeah?"

"Choke me."

He lowly chuckled, a dark sparkle lighting up his already deep brown eyes and you knew exactly what it meant. It meant that he was deep in and would do anything you asked him of. Anything for a single twitch of your body or roll of your hips.

He didn't reply with his words, but with his hands. He gently - almost to give you a taste of what was coming – caressed your neck, two fingers trailing up and down the sensitive skin while settling between your spread, welcoming legs. You took a deep breath, shuddering at the way Pedro regarded your body, which was still hidden by far too many layers of fabric and then almost felt disappointed when the hand on your neck, so deliciously close to doing what you needed so badly, traveled south, trailing a line between your clothed breasts to help his other hand undress you. He skillfully opened the button and zip of your jeans and swiftly pulled them down your legs along with your lovely underwear that unfortunately didn't get a lot of attention right now. Neither of you cared though.

"You don't know how much I love you, sweetpea," Pedro whispered, shaking his head like he couldn't believe you were real and palmed your hip in his large hand.

Although there truly was a lot to see between your thighs, you couldn't help yourself and your gaze unconsciously was on his hands and arms again that gleamed so wonderfully in the light. He looked strong, yet soft and you loved the way his muscles moved when he was turning or adjusting you beneath him.

"I love you too, Pedro," you whispered, but he was already one step ahead and watched your pussy like it was the first time he had ever seen one. His eyes and facial expressions radiated so much love and admiration, you felt like you were about to explode with joy. Your heart was pounding rapidly but you couldn't tell whether it was from your arousal and excitement or the love you felt for him.

"So goddamn pretty," he mumbled and then placed his hands on your inner thighs and spread you wide for him so he could have the first taste of tonight. Pedro circled your entrance with the tip of his tongue, savouring your salty, prickling wetness in relief and while he tried to take his time and enjoy each moment and impression, he simply was too eager to toy with you for long.

The rest of his face was pressed against your pussy and while he dipped inside of you with his tongue, his nose scrunched against your clit, finally helping you fight the burning heat that had previously made the bundle of nerves shudder and tremble with anticipation. But he knew too well what he was doing and managed to please your pussy only with his face to an extent where you felt that it wouldn't take you long to orgasm. Who could blame you, really? This whole afternoon had basically been one long, tormenting period of foreplay with Pedro looking this handsome and his arms being so stunningly on display.

He was far from being finished though. Sensing how you buckled and your hips shifted under him, he brought a hand up to continue those torturing strokes across your neck that you had gotten a taste of earlier while moving his tongue upward to focus on your clit. He used his spit and your wetness that he had collected on the flat of his tongue to circle it, pressing loving kisses all over it like he wanted to show you his affection this way. Your body naturally reacted to his tongue, your hips rolling in accordance to create more friction and encourage him to give you more, give it to you harder and – most importantly – not to stop, but your eyes were on his arms.

You just couldn't help yourself; with his hand teasing your neck you had a perfect view on his underarm and you had a feeling Pedro exactly knew what he was doing. You were so focused on his arms, a work of art in themselves, that you didn't see it coming when he suddenly choked you. The restriction of air made you gasp and your eyes sprang open.

"Is that what you want?" he teased and you were not sure if his words were dirty talk or if he actually wanted reassurance that you were giving him your clear consent. You nodded, your eyes pleadingly devouring his bicep while the sensation of his large hand wrapped around your neck sent you into insanity. And then the stimulation on your clit… You could have died right on the spot and you would have thanked every god there was.

"Fuck," you choked, your own hand coming to rest on top of his, but not to gesture him to stop, but to trace his veins and tendons. Soon that wasn't enough though, especially having in mind that his gorgeous arm was so close, right in front of your face so both of your hands traveled down to his underarm just to feel him. His flesh seemed to burn from inside, his skin as hot and feverish as you felt. Whenever he squeezed you tighter, your muscles tensed and you let out a little whine. Pedro noticed this and, keen to reward you, gave you a special treat and did it as often as he could.

By now his expensive black top was soaked with sweat, but he couldn't have cared less. How could he with this sight and especially this taste on his tongue. He was aware of every single reaction of your body, the way your pussy clenched and your hips arched off the bed whenever he took your clit between his teeth to gently nibble, your desperate sighs when he squeezed your throat and the way you licked over your lips, blushing over his arms. He would definitely keep this shirt, no matter what.

'Pedro, I'm gonna cum, fuck...' you told him, your teeth clattering together and your neck flexing beneath his touch. Your fingertips pressed into the flesh of his arms, your nails leaving a slight sting while uncontrollable pleasure took over you and you writhed underneath him.

"Yes, there you go, baby…," Pedro soothed you, keeping his grip on your hip firm while his other hand relaxed around your throat so it wouldn't become too much.

"Cum for me… Let go, sweetpea, wanna taste it all."

A muffled cry left your throat, your lips still pressed shut while your eyebrows drew together and little shock waves went through your body.

"Yes, there you go…," Pedro smiled proudly, his tongue gliding up and down your slit to savour your juices for as long as possible while your spinning head took in his hand that was now loosely resting on top of your chest, his thumb drawing soothing circles over your skin.

"Ohh god…," you whispered and fell on your back, your chest rising heavily and the blood pumping in your veins. You felt messy with drops of sweat pooling on your forehead, but when Pedro looked up to you with his soft puppy eyes you forgot everything about it and melted on the spot.

"Have I ever told you how sweet you taste?" he growled while crawling up to cage you beneath him.

"I think so," you giggled, too weak though to slide your arms around his neck.

"I'm sorry," you then whispered with an apologetic look on your face and Pedro lifted his eyebrows in confusion.

"For what?"

"That you have to wear this top in this heat. You must be melting."

He twisted his lips and propped himself on his elbows next to your head.

"Not because of the top," he mumbled while connecting his lips with your chin, leaving gentle kisses as he made his way up to your neck where he kissed the faint pink marks he had left.

"You okay? Wasn't too much?" he wanted to make sure, the sound of his voice muffled against your skin.

"No," you grinned, finally finding the strength to grab his bicep, which you were sure was covered in scratch marks. It was nothing unusual, though. The two of you loved to show the world who each of you belonged to, even if, in many cases, you did it in places that no one else got to see anyway.

"Pedro?" you asked which made him glance up to you without pulling away from your hot skin.

"I want you to fuck me."

You felt him tense at your words, his hand grabbing your shoulder more firmly as he started to kiss up your collarbone.

"Lemme get a condom…," he whispered while unwillingly drawing away from you to reach to the nightstand, but you were quicker and trapped him with your legs wrapped around his hips.

"Why?"

"What do you mean, why?" Pedro asked in confusion, but stopped in the motion to look at your face that gave him a loving smile.

"We talked about it," you said, looking down to where your hands were playing with themselves. "And I thought we both… We agreed, right?"

His expression was unreadable at first, but then he bit on his lip and sighed out.

"Yeah. We have."

You chuckled and he immediately joined, but then he stroked a strand of hair behind your ear.

"It's just… It's kind of scary when we actually do it, don't you think so? You know… the fact that there's a chance you could actually get pregnant. I – I would like that… Of course I would like that" – his lips curled into a sweet smile – "It's just kind of surreal."

You nodded in agreement and took hold of his face, making him look into your eyes.

"I know. But yeah… I think we should do it. Everything's perfect right now, you know?"

He nodded and then gently peeled off your hand to kiss your wrist, his brown eyes big as he didn't broke eye contact for a mere second. And there you were melting away under his gaze as his lips caressed the thin skin on your wrist where your pulse was so loud and rapid, you thought that he had to hear it too.

"Yes," he said, his breath tingling on your skin and then he kissed you one last time before carefully putting your hand down on your stomach.

"I love you, sweetpea. So so much. And I wanna have a child with you."

You heart skipped a beat just like it always did whenever Pedro said the L-word. After five years of marriage you still had this kind of physical reaction to it which amazed you.

"I love you, Pedro. Now fuck me," you hissed, your eyes sparkling and your teeth bared as you already eyed down his broad body.

"Can't have a cute fucking moment with my wife because she can't get a hold on herself…," Pedro playfully rolled his eyes, but adjusted himself between your legs.

You were still giggling when he wrapped a hand around his shaft to align himself with your quivering entrance, your swollen clit eager for his touch again, but he teased you for a bit, avoiding the little nub on purpose. When his tip prodded your hole you prepared yourself for the slight stretch that was always involved when he fucked you and you inhaled deeply while Pedro waited for your approval which you gave him with a nod.

"Relax, baby," he breathed as he slowly eased himself inside you and fortunately, you were so wet that you took him without any problems.

"Jesus!" he cursed once he was inside of you to the hilt and glanced down to you, who had your face drawn with sheer pleasure.

He was big yes, bigger than any dick you had ever seen, but tonight when your pussy had been yearning for him all day, your entrance was more than happy to smoothly welcome him inside you.

"You feel so good, shit… Please, look at me. Need to see you, baby."

You had closed your eyes, focusing on all the ways you felt him so deep inside of you, the veins on his shaft excitingly pressing and rubbing against your walls, but then they fluttered open at his words.

"You're fucking perfect," he murmured through clenched teeth and leaned in to kiss the tip of your nose while he rolled his hips to pull out of you and started fucking you at a steady pace.

"Pedro, fuck… Need…"

You couldn't finish the sentence, the words stuck in your throat, but your affectionate husband kissed up your temple, softly humming against your skin.

"What do you need? Tell me, baby, c'mon…"

"Need to cum again," you whimpered, buckling your hips to meet his deep thrusts.

"I know, I know... Don't you worry, m'gonna get you there. Just relax for me, alright? And breathe…"

You literally felt him everywhere. His hand had reached between your thighs the moment he had started fucking you to rub small and percise circles on top of your clit. You were in awe of how well he was able to coordinate his movements in his state because you were sure were you the one to touch yourself right now, you wouldn't be able to aim correctly. And then there was his mouth everywhere he could reach. Pressing kisses all over your face, your nose, your jaw, next to your ear and down to your neck and chest where your bra was half-off, the straps loosely around your shoulder and your breasts bare on display for him. You seriously wondered how Pedro managed to focus on so many things at the same time because you already had struggles breathing, whereas he fucked, fingered and kissed you at the same time.

You let out a broken moan and could literally feel him smiling against your collarbone when your hands tightly gripped his bicep, obviously not only to hold on to him, but also to knead his firm flesh. Part of you wished there was better lighting in your hotel room, the sky outside dark by now, but of course there was no way you would stop him right now to turn on the brighter ceiling lamp. This would have to do, and feeling his muscles under your palms was already more than one could wish for.

Now that he was propping himself up on his elbow, he had to keep his muscles tense at all times, which was very convenient for you. You were almost in awe, your lips parted and your eyes round as coins while you traced every curve and curvature, every inch of skin as if you wanted to worship it.

"Oh baby, I'm gonna fill you up so well," Pedro interrupted your silent admirations and you averted your gaze from his arms for a moment to look at him. "But first I need you to cum again, alright? Need you to come around my dick."

His finger on your bundle of nerves fastened up at his words and you threw your head to the side, your heels digging into the mattress in search of release.

"I know, sweetpea," Pedro growled at your whine that almost sounded like you were in pain and rolled your clit between two fingers.

"You can cum… It's alright, you can let go whenver you want to…"

And so you did. Seconds after the words had left his mouth, your second orgasm of the night rolled over you, knocked all the air out of your lungs and made your whole body tense up. You arched off the bed, presenting yours breasts to Pedro so prettily that he leaned down to take one nipple between his lips, but then suddenly grunted as the clenching of your pussy drove him over the edge as well.

It really was poetic, the two of you reaching your highs almost at the exact same time and as Pedro spasmed in your hole, slowly riding out his orgasm you collapsed on the bed, utterly exhausted after two highs. It was an unfamiliar feeling to be filled up by him, but not an unpleasant one. The ropes of cum felt warm and sticky inside of you, almost as if your pussy was overflowing with your own juices.

"Holy shit…," Pedro now growled, his face buried in your neck while his rapidly heaving chest crashed against yours. The weight of his body pressed against yours aroused you more than it probably should and once again, you ran your hands up and down his arms and shoulders, savouring the gorgeous picture of him in this goddamn top as long as it lasted.

He also seemed to welcome your soothing hands, softly humming as the two of you calmed down in each other's presence.

"That was so perfect," you whispered and brought one hand to the back of his head to play with his locks.

"Yeah," Pedro agreed, moving on top of you to withdraw his flaccid dick from your dripping entrance.

"Oh baby…," was all he could say and closed his eyes as a gust of wind from the open window sent a shiver down his spine.

You remained in this position for a little while longer, feeling content and peaceful as you listened to the other person's heartbeat. Eventually, however, the cool air from outside made it inevitable for Pedro to roll off you and slip under the blanket, leaving you to regret the replacement of Pedro with the silky fabric of the blanket.

He was quick to pull you toward him though and instantly wrapped his strong arms around your head to keep you snug against his chest. You both smelled of sweat and exhaustion, but neither of you cared. The chirping of distant birds and crickets from outside was beautiful background music to the serene scene and soon you felt yourself drift off to sleep, but before you could Pedro cupped your cheek and ran his thumb over the corner of your mouth.

"There's a chance that I just got you pregnant," he whispered, sounding torn between amusement and excitement.

"Mhmm yes," you answered and giggled when you felt a hand pressing down on your lower tummy.

"It would be nice, right?" Pedro asked and opened his eyes into yours. Despite the darkness, you were still able to make out his pupils and twisted your lips into a smile.

"Yes. It would be… perfect."

You gave each other one last grin before Pedro cradled your head and guided it down to nestle against his chest, his heartbeat evenly thundering in your ear while you closed your eyes, expecting sleep to take over soon.

And it did. You were still thinking about what Pedro had said, and the image of him and you with a baby was so clear in your mind that you could almost see it.

It was a nice thought to fall asleep on and when Pedro grabbed your hand and his thumb gently brushed your knuckles, you somehow knew the two of you were thinking the same thing.

[aroace-madness]

Comfortable

Captain Marvel was a wonderful guy, friendly, caring, loyal to a fault and always cheery

Everyone loved him or at least respected him

The Justice League especially

So it's not a surprise when the Captain hasn't answered their calls and messages for a few days, they decided to visit him in his home city, Fawcett

Fawcett is a nice city, weird as hell and concerning at times but it had its own beauty

So in all honestly no one was shocked when a big piece of metal came hurling at the league the very second they stepped a foot in the borders of the city

Clark didn't have a chance to take off the ground before a woman in a silver helmet caught it, beside the helmet from which they could see her long Brown hair, she wore a red shirt, a blue belt, and gloves boots and a yellow bottom of a bodysuit that showed off her legs

She putted the piece of metal down on the ground and landed in front of them

“Hello, I’m Bulletgirl” the woman- Bulletgirl extended her hand for a handshake and Diana, who was the closest to her, accepted it

“Nice to meet another sister in arms, I’m Wonder Woman and this” she gestured at her friends “is the Justice League”

“Oh the Justice League, we heard so much about you” Bulletgirl smiled brightly “it's so nice to finally meet you properly, I apologise for the welcome you got but we’ve been having a bit of a problem for the last few day”

“Which includes flying pieces of metal?” Barry cocked his eyebrow, not that she could see

Bulletgirl didn't say anything, just pointed behind her

There was a gigantic robot walking through the city, it seemed to try and swat away whatever was flying around it, probably Captain

“Yeesh” that was Hal

“Yeah, Dr Sivanna started wreaking havoc in that robot a few days ago and we're trying to get him out without damaging the city and hurting people” Bulletgirl rubbed the back of her neck “we’re herding him to a less populated area and evacuating people from there to lessen the risks of anything happening”

Before anyone from the league could say anything, red blurr hitted the ground in front of them

“Ugh” the blur turned out the be a man

“Hi sweetheart” Bulletgirl waved at the man who was apparently her love “i see your ‘i can handle it’ is doing well”

“Oh yeah kick the lying one” the man managed to sit up with a grunt, he was wearing the same helmet as Bulletgirl

“I have the honor to introducing my dunce of a husband Bulletman” the woman said as she helped her husband stand up, his costume was very similar to his wifes, the only difference really were pants and a lack of gloves

“Nice to meet you” he turned to Bulletgirl “Do you have to call me that?” Bulletman grimaced a which made his wife laugh and kiss his cheek

“Now don't be dramatic dear i've called you far worse”

“True” Bulletman shrugged and dusted his clothes off “so, you're the infamous Justice League we’ve been hearing so much about”

“That's us” Clark smiled

“You do look like a bunch of well meaning people, even that shadow guy over there” he pointed at Bruce “dressed in black, cowl, long cape, gloomy demeanor, you must be Batman”

Batman just grunted in acknowledgament

“How are things going back there?” Bulletgirl asked her husband

“Oh, Voltage and Mary are evacuating people from a neighbourhood that Captain, Mr Scarlet and Ibis are herding Sivanna to”

“That's good” She patted his shoulder and turned back to the Justice League “so what brings you to Fawcett anyways?”

“Oh” Barry perked up “we wanted to see how Cap is doing since he hasn't been answering his comms for the past few days but we see why”

“Yeah” there was a silence for a moment “sooooo, do you guys want to help us out with that?”

Everyone agreed

Clark flew over to where the machine was and created a makeshift corridor from ice

Hal started herding the robot with his projections alongside Captain Marvel who waved at him and a man in a red turban

Shayera, Bulletgirl and Bulletman were flying around the robots head to try and confuse Sivana and IT seemed to work

Sivanas machine was slowly stepped towards a big, circular housing estate while Barry was quickly evacuating the last of civilians from the dangered area

When he was finally in a right position, Diana wrapped her lasso around the robots legs, Bruce did the same with his grappling hook

Shayera, Hal and Bullegirl started pushing at the shoulders of the robot while Captain Marvel and Bulletman were pulling them

The robot lost its footing and started to lose its balance. Clark made a giant ice wall to cushion the fall

The machines upper body fell on the ice and shattered it to about a half of it's height before stopping (Barry made sure to catch and put away the pieces of ice, before any of them landed on any building)

Bulletgirl opened the hatch of the machines head and took Sivana out, holding him by the scruff of his kilt while he was kicking and screaming, flailing his arms around

“I’ll take him to the police, Mister Scarlet is already with them making sure that there aren't any any injured or god forbid casualties” Bulletgirl said as she flew away from Sivana in her hand

The rest of the two groups gathered on the ground by the robot

“That was awesome guys” Barry smiled as he joined the group

“It sure was” Bulletman nodded his hand and putted his hands on his hips, seconds before he got tackled and putted in a one arm headlock by Marvel

“You guys were great!” Captain smiled in his typical fashion as he held the Bulletman

The man didn't seem too bothered by his current situation

“Do you have to do that every time?” The man in a red turban asked, tilting his head a bit

“You know I do, Ibis” Marvel grinned at the man, Ibis apparently “you guys were great too” Captain directed his attention to them, completely shifting his attitude

Before any of the League members could say anything else they got interrupted by two blurs, red and blue, flying straight into the Captain

The man didn't budge and just caught the two into his other arm

The red blur was a girl, looked almost identical to Captain, Mary Marvel

The blue blur was a guy, Voltage

Captain didn't say anything, just dropped them as they kept laughing and cheering

“Alright Cap, I think it's time for you to let go of Bulletman” Mr Scarlet said, leaning a bit on Ibis

Marvel sticked his tongue out at Mr Scarlet and eased his arm, letting the other man slip out of his grasp

Bulletman took advantage of his freedom and slapped Captain in the arm. Captain was about to slap back when Bulletgirl landed next to them

“Alright, Sivana is taken care of” she dusted her hands off and looked at the mess

“Yeah this is going to be a bitch to clean up” Ibis sighed

“Yeah, how about you guys start and I’ll escort our guests” Bulletgirl smiled

“Yeah yeah, you do you” Voltage rolled his eyes as he was already starting the clean-up

Bulletgirl motioned to the league to follow her, and they did

“Did Captain Marvel seem, different to you guys?” Clark his friends in a shushed voice as they walked trough the streets of the city

“He did seem much more relaxed around the other guys” Barry rubbed his chin

“He also called them by their names, without all these “Misses” and “Misters” he always uses when addressing one of us” Shayera pointed out

“Hmm” Bruce hummed, thinking

They arrived at the city borders and stopped in front of Bulletgirl

“It was really nice meeting all of you and thank you for your help” she smiled at them brightly

“It was nice meeting you and your friends too” Clark smiled back

“Uhh” Hal interjected “I got a question, you see, Captain Marvel seemed much more relaxed around you guys, how did you get him to let loose?”

Bulletgirl stared at Hal for a few moments

“Is he overly polite with you, is always respectful and seems like he would rather die than be mean to any of you?”

The League was left dumbfounded for a few seconds

“Uhh yeah” Barry nodded “how did you know?”

“Because he was the exact same way with us when he started out as a hero of Fawcett” Bulletgirl explained

“There is no way that's true” Hal shook his head

“Oh but it is, it took him about five years to finally let loose, you gotta give him some time. How long has he worked with you?”

“About a year and a half now” Diana answered

“Oh yeah, it’s much too soon for him” Bulletgirl laughed

“Maybe he does need time to get comfortable” Diana rubbed the back of her neck “how long have you been working together”

“Oh we’ve been fighting together since 1960”

“1960!?” Barrys eyes bulged out, same as the rest of the League really

“What do you mean 1960?” Clark asked in shock, he wasn't even on earth in 1960, he doubted that he was even in plans during that time

“Not to sound rude or anything but how old are you?” Hal asked

“Oh i’m 35” she answered, as if she’s not frying the justice leagues brains

“Wait, wait, wait” Shayera shook her head “ if you've been working with Cap since 1960, then how are you still 35?”

“That's because of the Suspendium” Bulletgirl said as if it explained anything. She must have noticed their confusion since she started talking again “Dr Sivana used a chemical he created, Suspendium, to trap Captain Marvel, Mary Marvel and Voltage in a force Field that would keep them suspended animation, something went wrong and instead of just capturing the three, the entire city got surrounded by the time bubble, as we call it, with Sivana in it. Captain managed to pop the bubble two years ago”

“Two years ago was when there were first sighting of Captain Marvel” Bruce pointed out

“Yes, the second the bubble popped, Captain started flying around the world”

“Wait” Clark shook his head “how come we never heard of something like that ever happening?”

“Oh” Bulletgirl rubbed the back of her neck “apparently everything and everyone that was trapped in the time bubble was completely erased from the maps and history books and only came back when the bubble was popped”

“That doesn't make any sense” Bruce sighed as he rubbed his temples

“Nothing makes sense, bat boy” Bulletgirl shrugged “now, as much as it's nice standing here and talking I really should help with cleaning” She said as she took of from the ground and bid them adieu

“God this is so weird” Barry sighed

“You're telling me?” Clark slumped a bit

“I think it's best if we don't think about it too much” Diana patted her friends shoulders

As they came back to the Watchtower they all agreed not to think too much about the whole Suspendium situation, it would only lead to a headache

They do like Captains friends tho, they seem nice and are good heroes

@puppetwoman17 @shazam-secret-santa

I hope you like it :D

[written-with-clouds]

You're Always My Husband

Loki x GNAsgardian!Reader

Summary: When Loki is taken by the Avengers you follow Thor to Earth, needing to see him with your own eyes.

CW: very brief mention of killing and torture (It's only a sentence long and doesn't go into detail), Angst and Comfort.

Authors note: Hello! I have returned at last! This isn't either of the fics I teased in my last post, and it kinda came out of nowhere... but I hope you like it all the same! This takes place during the first Avengers movie and was heavily inspired by Would You Fall In Love With Me from Epic The Musical: Ithaca Saga by Jorge Rivera-Herrans.. for those that haven't heard it, please go listen to the full concept musical! it is amazing and beautifully done!

cross posted on AO3

Your ears ring from the pounding of your heart as you storm through the helicarrier, ignoring the yells of people around you. You throw any of the guards dumb enough to get in your way and try to stop you from your target. 

“Thor!” You bellow, your voice echoing off the metal walls around you as people startle at the sound.  You kick in door after door, calling after the god of thunder with each one. And every time, coming up empty handed.

Growling in frustration, you survey the room with narrowed eyes. Stalking to the nearest person you lift them by the collar of their shirt, ignoring the multiple guns now pointed in your direction.

“Where is Thor?” You ask slowly, breathing heavily through your nose. The man stares at you, eyes wide, lips opening and closing without sound, trembling within your hold. 

“Where is he!?” You yell, giving the man a light shake. 

“Y/N!” Your brother in law's boisterous voice calls from behind you. 

You drop the frightened man and whirl on your heel to face Thor. His face is bright, a wide smile on his face and his eyes crinkled just the slightest. You close the distance between you both quickly, grabbing the front of his shirt. 

“Is it true? Is he…” You trail off, the question dying on your tongue. You search Thor’s eyes, your breathing growing ragged. 

“Y/N…” He responds softly, his hands gently grasping your elbows as his expression drops. 

“Is it?” You repeat your question, growing more desperate by the second. 

Thor nods, his face now solemn. Your breathing hitches and your grip on him loosens. “Where is he?” 

“He’s not… how he was.“ Thor responds, choosing his words carefully.

“Where is he?!” 

“In a holding cell.” Someone else replies. You turn your head, meeting the one eyed gaze of a man. “Who’s your friend?” 

Thor responds before you can so much as open your mouth, “This is Y/N, my brother's spouse.” 

“They gonna be a problem for us?” The one eyed man asks, speaking directly to Thor even with his gaze trained on you warily. 

“No, Fury. They will not be a problem.” 

“I can answer for myself,” you speak, scowling at both of them. “I will remain… unproblematic, if you take me to my husband.” 

“How do we know you won’t let him out?” The one eyed man—Fury—comments. “For all we know you’re working with him and this is all some trick.” 

You release your hold on Thor completely, turning your body to face Fury. You stalk towards him, getting halfway there before Thor's hand on your arm stops you.

“Take me to my husband!” You demand, fighting against Thor’s hold. 

“Y/N, please.” Thor whispers pleadingly, “Don’t make this any more difficult than it already is.”

“Difficult?” You whip around to Thor, catching him off guard as your hand makes contact with his cheek. “I’m not the one being difficult! All I am asking is to see my husband, who was thought dead!” You hiss out. 

And then your shoulders drop, the fight all but leaving your body as desperation seeped in. “Please.” You beg no one in particular. “I just need to see him… I need to know he’s alive..” 

You looked to Thor, desperately trying to get through to him. But his attention was elsewhere. His eyes were locked with Fury’s, a silent argument happening between them before finally, Fury nodded. 

Thor’s gaze landed back on you, “Okay.. but not for long. And know, they have cameras in place all around his cell.”

The second the large doors slide open you see him. Your husband paces inside a large cell made entirely of glass. You take a deep breath, steadying yourself before walking into the room tentatively. As you approach the glass, Loki turns. The cocky smile adorning his face falls as his eyes land on yours and he blinks in surprise. “Is it you?” You ask breathlessly. “This isn’t a dream? O-or some trick?”

“Darling…” Loki speaks softly in a way reserved only for you as you draw even closer to the glass. Thor says something behind you, it sounds vaguely like he’s asking you to step back but his words are fuzzy as your entire being focuses on the sight of Loki. You bring your hand up, resting your palm against the glass.

“Are you really standing here? Did-” You choke on the words as sobs threaten to leave your throat. “Have you come back to me?”

Loki places his against the glass, mirroring you.

“You’re thinner than I remember…” You whisper, “And your eyes… They’re blue now, not the green I know. You look tortured.”

“I am not the man I was… the man you fell in love with.” Loki says simply, removing his hand from the glass as he walks back towards the middle of the cell. 

“What happened to you?” 

“I’ve killed… too many to count. Human and alien alike.” He doesn’t face you as he speaks. His shoulders are tense and his fist’s clench at his sides before he draws them up, likely wringing them as you know he does when nervous or unsure. “I’ve tortured even more. Their blood stains my hands. Their screams ring in my ears. ”

“Loki…” Tears blur your vision and wet your cheeks. 

Loki spins around, facing you. His expression is guarded, but you notice the small twitch of his eyebrow that indicates he’s barely keeping it together himself. When he speaks his voice is hoarse and unsteady. “Can you still claim to love me? To call me your husband?” 

You blink back more tears as they threaten to spill down your face and step away from the glass slightly. Your hand wraps around a cord of fabric made of green and gold that hangs from your waist and breaks it off. You hold it up in front of you, displaying it to Loki. “If I can’t call you my husband, if what you’ve done is truly so horrible that I can’t learn to love you regardless, remove your half of our handfasting cord. Rip it from your belt and toss it away.” 

At this, Loki falters, flinching away as if struck. “How could you…” He starts softly, his voice growing louder as he continues. “I wove that cord myself. I spent weeks on it. As a sign of my love to you!” 

“Then don’t tell me you’re not the same person! You are my husband!” You yell at him, voice raspy and breaking. “No matter what you’ve done or who you’ve hurt. No matter if it’s been one year or one decade, I will always love you.” 

The door to Loki’s cell opens, startling both of you. Glancing over your shoulder you see Thor where he now stands behind the control desk. He nods his head at, a silent acknowledgement. 

Loki doesn’t move from the center of the cell, even as armed guards enter the room, guns pointing at all three of you. He doesn’t even look anywhere else but you. His eyes follow your movements as you slowly close the distance between you and him. 

Once you’re standing toe to toe with Loki, you lift on shaking hand and place it against his cheek. The touch is feather light at first, because you are still unsure if it’s really him. But as skin meets skin and Loki leans into your touch, his eyes closing, you resolve breaks. You pull him against you and bury your face in the crook of his neck as sobs rack through your body. Loki’s arms close around your middle as he pulls you impossibly closer, his head resting against yours. 

The two of you sink to the floor, still holding onto each other like lifelines. When you pull back from the hug, Loki looks at you. 

“There they are,” You whisper. His eyes were no longer an icy blue, but now the same green you had always loved to get lost in. 

He rests his forehead against yours, eyes shutting again. “I love you.” 

“I missed you.”

(lets just pretend that Loki's eyes are green and not blue.. for plot purposes)

[pricesprincess-archived]

Back To You | j. price x fem reader

synopsis: Marriage wasn't as easy as you thought it was, now you're suffering the consequences of your actions that you began to think were in haste.

wc: 4.0k

tags: 18+ only explicit smut + breeding + some angst with happy ending + edited repost from my old blog + this is one of my most treasued pieces

Drip.

Drip.

Drip.

You tried to jam pillows against your ears when the water made contact with the metal sink in your kitchen, which was a few feet from where you slept, the sound loud and more than annoying.

Since your bedroom is now shut off from the rest of the house because the windows are so drafty that winter makes it impossible to sleep in without freezing, you opted for the lumpy couch with mixmatched cushions and pillows you bought from tag sales.

Which only reminded you of John.

Ironically enough, it felt like everything was falling apart in the house the moment he moved out, leaving you with more than a broken heart.

Now you had leaky pipes to fix along with your life.

With it being two am, you knew John would still answer but when you called, you weren't expecting a woman to answer his phone.

Her sultry voice came over like a soft purr. You squeezed your eyes shut and tried not to let images become burned into your mind.

Immediately, you hung up and debated calling Kyle; he lived close and would help, no problem, and then your phone buzzed in your hand, hoping it was Gaz, maybe he knew you needed him?

Nope. Not, Kyle.

John was calling back.

"Hello? You okay, sweet'eart?" He asked like there was no rift between you two and he was still your concerned husband, the worry bright and clear under that thick British accent you missed so much,

Part of you wanted to ask who she was but refrained. "I'm sorry, John, but my sink won't stop dripping and it's keeping me awake. Can you come fix it, please?" You asked with a tight throat.

You swallowed the lump in your throat and tried to sink further into the couch, your duvet tucked around you to keep the cold air from penetrating under it and you wanted to stay warm.

There was some background chatter, then John came back speaking in that honey-dipped tone. "I'll be right over." He hung up, leaving you wondering who he was with and what he was doing with them.

Tucking the covers under your chin, you looked at your expenses, wondering if a hotel was out of the question. It would keep you warmer than here and the water would be a lot hotter than it is in your own home and you knew John would chastise you for not telling him.

He wasn't your husband anymore so that wasn't his business anymore; what either of you did or had going on was no longer something you should care about but John moving on hurt more than you wanted to admit, even though you were the one to ask for it.

But John deserved to be happy so when he used his key to let himself in, you didn't ask him about the woman but still greeted him from where you sat on the couch wrapped in a blanket. "Thank you."

"You're livin' in a damn icebox, love." He sighed and made his way over to you, stopping for a moment out of habit to kiss your head but he missed that step and walked straight into the kitchen to work on the sink, which caused him to let out a few colorful cuss words.

Once that was finished, John made his way to the furnace, getting it to start then he checked the vents, making sure hot air was being forced through them. His eyes shifted to the couch you lay on alone.

Silence filled the room as you met his gaze. "I know, the heat stopped working after you moved out and I don't have the money to fix that right now so I was getting by. Thanks again, John." You told him softly.

You only ever called him by his first name when you were irritated with him; during the whole relationship, his name was baby or honey and hearing you call him that made his heart shudder in his chest.

"Why didn't you just ask me?" His question made you prickle.

"Why do you think? You're not my husband anymore."

John took a step toward you, feeling the air become tenser. "Which means I have to stop carin' and lovin' you?" He shot back and sighed, fixing his bucket hat before pulling his keys from his pocket.

John's question left you speechless as he pulled his shoes back on, not wanting to fight with the person he cares about the most. "If you need anything else, let me know, sweet'eart."

Knowing that you were now safe and warm, John could leave and go back to Simon's.

That night you barely slept, tossing and turning, wishing you had asked him to stay the night, maybe for old times' sake but that would only further the crack in your heart and you didn't want to confuse it all, making the divorce harder than it needed to be, really.

The next morning you hardly could get off the couch; the squeaky springs dug into your back all night and it didn't help that the wind kept slamming the shutters against the house, creating so much noise and to make matters worse, you ran out of coffee beans.

John usually kept that stuff stocked.

Slapping a hand over your face, you scrubbed until you felt a little better and snatched something to wear from the tundra that is your bedroom; even with the heat on, it was still too chilly to sleep in.

Once dressed warmly, you set off to work, hoping that the office would be empty. It was a weekend, meaning that no one else should be there, and you could listen to music and crank the heat all the way up. Excitement sizzled through your veins as you drove.

It lasted all but a few minutes when you saw another car in the parking lot, your coworker Lucas, who has been super sweet to you ever since you started, and now that you don't wear your ring, he's bringing you coffee and flowers and lunch during the week.

He was cute and funny so it didn't bother you too much; perhaps you'd finally accept a date from him, seeing that John went on a date, or at least you thought it was because why did a woman answer his phone?

The thought made you clench your fists as you grabbed your bag from the backseat before scurrying inside to beat the chilly air that bit any exposed skin. "There she is. I was hoping you'd come in." Lucas beamed as he greeted you by the front double doors with a smile.

Lucas also held two coffee cups; one he gently thrust toward you. "I always do. I'm beginning to think you're coming in only because of me." You teased taking the cup with a grateful smile and nod.

He stepped in stride with you toward the cubicles where you answered phones, which got your bills barely paid but it was better than nothing and it helped you meet new people. "Is it snowing?"

"Thankfully no, but tonight I think it will start." The idea of having to spend your first winter alone hurts, and being cold isn't your only problem. Being with John for a decade and sharing everything left you stumbling after becoming a single woman after a long time.

The two of you chatted as you began the quick shift; it was something that helped cover the expense of other things you wanted, like the new vibrating clit toy that your friends all talked about.

It was a bit out of your price range but at this point, you'd pay it just to have an orgasm. After almost a year without a man's touch, you swore that if anyone got lucky enough to get you home, you'd hump their leg like a small dog.

"Are you doing anything to stay nice and warm? I could pick you up for dinner tonight." Lucas asked when it approached lunchtime, and you ended up in the break room for a moment to decompress.

Clearly, he was asking you on a date but was too shy to come out and say it outright like that. Being wanted stoked your ego and it had you nodding your head. "I'd love to, Lucas. How does six sound?"

The smile that pulled on his lips had you worried that he'd crack his cheek for a moment as he droned on about the details and how much fun you're going to have with a great man such as himself.

Your idea for a fun night took a dive with how he was bragging about himself. Once you accepted the date, it was like Lucas turned into another person but you didn't want to cancel on him just yet.

Thankfully the four hours ticked by and you were free of people screaming in your ear about getting a refund or how shitty of a person you are for not being able to help them the way they wanted.

You had a few hours to get ready before Lucas came, so you opted for a quick shower and to dive in your closet for something cute to wear. Since the divorce, you hadn't dressed up in such a long time, it felt like.

After applying some makeup and putting your hair in your favorite style, you looked in the mirror, running your hands over your curves that the dress you pulled on clung to and your tits looked good.

With a few sprays of perfume and some accessories on, you texted Lucas you were ready, followed by your address. Like magic, a few seconds later there was a knock on the door that startled you.

Lucas stood on your front porch with a bashful smile, holding a wilted bouquet of flowers that looked like he swiped them from a garbage can and they even smelled like it too, making you scrunch your nose.

"Wow, you're even sexier in a dress." His compliment made you sick to your stomach as he gazed at you like you were his last meal. The facade Lucas used at work was quickly crumbling, making you regret this. Perhaps if you call John, he could come and get you.

The thought was shoved away just as quickly as it came. He's probably on a date right now, and he's probably fucking her—no, you can't think about that or it will drive you insane all night.

You already said yes, Lucas was here and maybe he would cool his jets.

Taking the flowers, you placed them on the table next to the door, making a mental note to throw them away when you came home. Letting Lucas walk you to his car, you stayed a few feet away from him.

The idea of letting him touch you made your skin crawl.

It was painfully obvious he didn't know what to do on a date.

No opening the door, already asking if you could split the bill or at least get something cheap if he has to pay for it all and if he does, then you don't mind putting your mouth to work on the ride home.

You counted down the seconds until you were able to burst free from his car, where you barreled towards the front doors of the restaurant, ready to get this over and done and go home for the evening.

"There's no table available?" Lucas asked the host and then began to argue with the teenager, who seemed uncomfortable and out of his element, as you watched the scene unfold until you finally pulled Lucas back.

"It's okay; it's not that big of a deal. We can go somewhere else."

The angry mask he wore slipped for a moment as he smiled and took your hand to walk you back to his car. "I have a better idea in mind."

The better idea was driving by his ex-girlfriend's house, where she stood in the front window, heavily pregnant and dancing with someone. "That's her husband; she left me for him! Can you believe that?" he asked, white spittle forming at the corner of his lips.

Inside the cabin of the car was dark, making it difficult to see anything else but that or the way he gripped the steering wheel while you stayed silent, afraid to say anything that could set him off even more.

"Did your husband fuck around on you on his job? I couldn't be married while traveling to fuck other women." His voice was cold, void of any emotion at all and you felt your pulse race at his accusation.

You twisted your body to stare at him, your lip curling in disgust. "What the hell is wrong with you? John would never do anything like that and he didn't join the military to fuck around on his wife."

Your chest ached with the soft pulse of pain that never quite went away as you defended your ex-husband. Lucas's face contorted into something dark and dangerous as he pulled into your driveway.

"Sounds like you're still fucking him and I thought you two were over? Why call yourself his wife?" His voice teetered on possessiveness and something sinister as you reached for the door handle, desperate to leave his car and his space as fear took hold of you.

The moment you shoved your door open and stumbled out, you fell right into the chest of the very man you were defending; rough hands kept you upright as he peered into the dark car with a dead look.

John's eyes glazed over, something you've only seen twice since you met him. The first time was when he was talking about his missions and the other time was when a guy slapped your ass at the store.

You curled your fingers into his soft shirt as his scent wrapped you up like a bow on a pretty present. "John..." you whispered, getting his attention. His blue eyes shifted down, softening slowly.

Lucas watched the entire thing with a scoff as he rolled his eyes, not knowing what he just got himself into. John had already texted Simon his license plate and his name so later that night they could visit him.

John guided you into your old shared home. Passing under the threshold made you lean into the man you once promised to cherish and love for the rest of your life; a mistake was what it was, truthfully.

However, you couldn't say that out loud for fear that it was already over. Silence hung over you and John like an umbrella, keeping you two in a bubble of misunderstandings and unasked questions.

"That arseface has been after you ever since you started working there." John broke the silence as he stood by the front door with his arms crossed over his chest, putting you on the defensive.

Your eyes narrowed as you felt the bubble of irritation flare up. It's what the last year and a half of your marriage was like: one wrong move and you stepped on a landmine, and there was more fighting.

That's what did you in. When John wasn't home, it felt like you were single anyway and when he was home, he was more of your roommate. What hurt you the most is you weren't sure when it all started to fall apart at the cracks until it was finally broken.

"I had no idea because I wasn't worried about entertaining another man." You hummed and dropped your purse on the table where the rotted flowers lay, which John picked up, examining them with a grin.

He followed you into the kitchen, where you poured a glass of wine that John took for himself, taking a sip from it. "A man who gives a woman dead flowers wouldn't know how to properly romance her."

You wanted to make some sort of comment about him not knowing either but that was a lie. When you first met John during girls' night, he swept you off your feet and ever since, he has never let you walk.

To him you were his goddess; he worshiped the ground you walked on and there was nothing he wouldn't do for you nor was there any part of your body he hadn't kissed or touched and even though you no longer had the same name, he still felt that way and always would.

"He's unhinged to say the least, and since you're here, will you take a look at the windows in our," You cleared your throat and took the wine glass back from him with a huff to take a sip. "My bedroom, please?"

He leaned over the counter to wipe away the bead of wine on your lip before tasting it off his thumb, making your skin prickle with heat.

"Anything for my wife." With a wink, John headed toward the bedroom, feeling memories haunt him like a ghost attached to his back.

So many nights he carried you to the bed when you fell asleep on the couch waiting for him to get home, evenings you both spent curled up under the covers talking about everything and nothing.

You've seen him in dark times that he swore would take him under but you shooed away the dark, heavy clouds; your light, like the sun, parted them, providing him the warmth and love he needed to flourish.

A few moments later you joined him in the bedroom with two mugs of spiked hot chocolate, a silent apology for snapping at him when he's saved you again.

"I'm an asshole, huh?" You murmured and handed him his mug.

"At least you're a pretty one." He teased taking a drink of it, smearing the whipped cream on his beard that you kissed away without thinking the moment he sat next to you on the edge of the bed.

John stared at you for a moment, drinking in how the light caressed your features. It's been a year since you've been this close to him.

Setting both mugs down quickly, he leaned in to kiss you properly, like how a man should. His calloused palms cupped your cheeks to hold you still as his tongue parted your lips with a deep groan.

You held onto his arms with a whimper, gliding your tongue with his while moving to straddle him, your hands knocking off his bucket hat to grab a handful of his hair as you ground your clothed pussy against him.

It was a kiss that stole your breath as you molded yourself to John; he was the air you needed in your lungs to keep moving on.

He tasted you with desperate licks that made your clit throb with need as his hands trailed down to slowly peel your clothes off you as his mouth left open-mouthed kisses all over your shoulders and neck once they were bare for him; then he lay on his back to touch you.

"I'm sorry John, for letting our marriage come to this." You whispered, your voice teetering between the rush of emotions and the honesty.

With you straddling him, it was difficult to get him naked, and you missed seeing him. He's a bear of a man with thick, dark hair all over his body that softened with age but was still rough around the edges.

His hands roamed your body missing the feel of you after so fucking long. "Stop apologizin' darlin', I'm right where I want to be."

Despite him lying down, you still got him half naked, enough for you to rub your face against his chest with a sigh as he caressed your back with his fingertips and then popped your ass when you licked his nipple with a soft giggle before peppering his face in kisses.

"We should've had a baby." John whispered into the darkness as one hand cupped your cheek with your heart beating in tandem as you stared at him, feeling a rush of warmth wash over you.

It was something you thought about a lot but with him missing so much of it, you let it simmer on the back burner but now your womb was clenching. "Then no man will ask me on a date because I have my husband home waiting for me. No more, John, please, just come back."

Your soft pleas felt like a ton of bricks on his chest as tears matted his hair while you sobbed in his arms, breaking down. John shushed you gently with kisses and rolled you to your back to spread your legs.

He took his sweet time in kissing his way down to your glistening pussy that ached to be stretched out by John. You whined when his tongue finally glided across your sweet and slick cunt, making your back arch off the bed as he devoured you messily.

With slow and measured strokes of his tongue, your ex-husband had you gasping, your fingers curled in the sheets as you humped his mouth.

John slid his hands around your thighs to keep them open as he ate you out like you were made of the sweetest candy that would leave him with aching teeth but that didn't matter when your moans matched just how you tasted.

Everything was covered in diamonds from the sheer amount of pleasure that was pumping through your veins, like liquid desire making your pussy drool as you humped John's mouth.

It's been so long since you've felt his touch and now it was all you could feel; pressure built up the more his tongue swirled and stroked over your aching and puffy clit before he was kissing your cunt.

Then he slid two thick fingers inside you with a wet squelch, hearing you squeal and moan brokenly. "John, give me a fucking baby already."

He chuckled against you and pulled away with a glistening beard. "Being a bit bossy, are we? You're the one who went on a date; steppin' out on me deserves a punishment." He hummed quietly.

Your blood ran hot, making it feel like you were experiencing the worst hot flash of your life. "I only accepted it because you went on one!"

John now laughed as he kneeled between your legs, watching as you propped yourself up on your elbows, your eyes shifting down to his one hand that worked on his belt and then his pants to free his cock.

It sprang free, warm, fat, and heavy. It was thick too and just the right amount of hair covered his pubic bone; a few veins ran up on either side and a bigger one ran from the deep red, engorged head to his heavy and hairy sack that smelled like all John, potent male.

You wrapped your fingers around the base, unable to let the tips meet, and then slowly you jerked him off from the shaft to the tip before wrapping your legs around him.

"When that woman answered my phone, she thought it was hers. I was with my mates, sweetheart."

The sting of jealousy faded to embarrassment. "You never dated?"

"No, lovey, how could I date anyone when I was still married to you?"

You cried out and hugged his neck, pulling him further down to kiss him with passion as he rutted his hips against you blindly, trying to thrust in from the excitement of having you like this again.

When he speared you open on his dick, your mouth went slack, feeling the sweet sting of the stretch. "Keep it slow, John, you're the last person I slept with..." you admitted in between breathy kisses.

John rocked against you with slow strokes that kept you dizzy while you clung to him as he made sweet love to you, his hand cradling your head as he kissed you back with equal fire. Clearly, he missed you just as much as you missed him, and it was shown in hi

His smug grin not only riled you up but also made you want to sit your pussy on his face to give his mouth something to do and dear lord, did you need an orgasm from him? He's the only man who knew your body so well and could make you cry so sweetly for him.

[jmliebert]

Tom Riddle as Your Husband ♡

you’re his trophy wife, living in the golden cage

he doesn’t just want you, he owns you

in public, his charm is magnetic, his hand resting on your back, his smile perfectly in place. But behind closed doors, his gaze may turn cold and distanced

when he hurts you, he swears it’s the last time. he kneels, his lips brushing your hands with fervent, desperate kisses. but he never changes, not really

when you’re too kind to another man, his grip on your hand tightens, the metal of your wedding ring pressing painfully into your pale skin

every anniversary, he presents you with an extravagant bouquet of red roses

he can vanish from the manor for days, leaving no explanation behind. yet, he always have to know exactly where you are

what's strange is no matter how cold he’s been, when he sleeps, he pulls you close, with a need that edges on desperation

“I thought of you when I saw this.” - and then he places the finest, most elegant things in your hands

likes to hear you say his name

brushes his fingers along your cheek, his touch almost tender, but his eyes are dark

even when he’s not with you, his influence lingers—everyone knows whose wife you are

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

hello love, you can find more of my works about tom ♡here♡