#I have to apologize to him for poking around his house

[asidian]

I've seen a lot of talk about how breathtakingly devoted Charles is for walking down into hell to rescue Edwin, but one thing I don't think I've seen talked about anywhere is how astoundingly brave it was.

Put yourself in Charles' place, at this point in canon.

Literally all Charles has heard about hell is what Edwin has told him. And all Edwin's said, over and over again, for thirty years, is how terrible it was. It's the worst place with the worst people, and, well, Edwin trauma Olympics like a champ. Even if Charles doesn't know the full story, and he plainly doesn't, he knows that it's Very Bad.

He's walking into an absolute nightmare, and he knows it, and he does it with his eyes wide open.

And then take a look at how he's getting there.

The last time he saw the Night Nurse, she forced him to relive his worst trauma in real time and was threatening to split the pair of them up - to drag Edwin back to hell herself.

You can actually see Charles' expression shift when Niko suggests the Night Nurse look in his head again; he's afraid, and he's trying hard to mask it. He's afraid, but he's willing to let it happen, because he will do whatever it takes to get to Edwin.

So he stands aside and lets her poke around in his mind again, no matter how much pain she caused him the last time she was there.

And then?

Then he's got to rely on this woman who has literally only ever done him harm to uphold her end of the bargain.

Add to all of that the fact that Charles doesn't know if he can do this.

The only time he forcefully tells Crystal no, without any apology or softening of the words, is when he tells her she can't come to hell with him.

That's because he doesn't know if he can keep her safe. He doesn't know if he can make it back.

This is on the heels of the Devlin house, where he was able to do nothing to save the family trapped inside. It's on the heels of the Night Nurse showing him how powerless he is. It's on the heels of the Two Dead Dragons, where he spends the entire episode certain that he's a terrible person. It's on the heels of the debacle in the forest with Monty, where Charles is able to do nothing at all. He has to rely on Crystal to save the day.

He does not know if he can do this, and even if he can, he does not know whether he can trust the person letting him have a chance to fulfill her end of the bargain.

But he doesn't even hesitate.

He's going after Edwin because he has to go after Edwin.

He's got to. Because the alternative, leaving Edwin on his own again to suffer this fate he's suffered for too long already, is unthinkable.

And so he walks into hell, and he rewrites the whole damn narrative with bravery and devotion and desperation alone. And that is so unspeakably lovely that I'm still not over it, all these months in.

[messenger-of-babel]

Sugared Kisses

Summary: You build gingerbread houses with Bruce and he wonders what he did to deserve you. (Bruce Wayne x reader)

Word Count: 1.4K

Notes: Second posting for the day to try and catch up, a little treat for you all as an apology. Two Bruce posts back to back and two fics of around the same length same day. Crazy. Merry Christmas!!!

RiRi <33

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"What is that supposed to be?" you laugh, looking over to the mess on Bruce's board next to you. The billionaire drops the pieces of gingerbread in his hands with a defeated sigh, the cookies clattering to the tray.

"A car." he sighs, eyes tired and saddled.

"A car, huh?" you say, stopping work on your own gingerbread house to look at his. If you could even call it a house, it was a deflated mess of frosting and biscuit.

"Yeah," he says gruffly. "See, the wheels were supposed to go here..." he picks up some circular discs of gingerbread in one hand and presses it to the larger mess of cookie, which spills between his fingers. "Then I'd put the doors here, and it was going to have this shape, and then, see?" He looks over to you, eyes desperately pleading that you understand what he's trying to explain. "Then it looks like the Batmobile." He mumbles, turning his face away in embarrassment.

You let out a giggle, lifting a hand to his cheek to bring him facing you once more.

"I see it." you smile, kissing him on the cheek. "Maybe we can reshape it like this..." you hum, placing your hands over his. Gently you guide his hands, picking up the soft gingerbread and pushing it back into a box shape. "If you hold it here, we can get it to set."

You leave his hands once he's holding it in place, picking up one of the piping bags to your left. Carefully you pipe where the cookie meets before going over a second coat. "Move your hand a bit." you murmur, tongue poking between your lips as you try to revive his gingerbread sculpture. You hear him laugh quietly above you, lifting the heels of his palms so you can squeeze the nozzle under.

Bruce looks down at you, face almost level with the table and eyes narrowed in determination and focus. He feels the smile settle on his face as naturally as breathing, shoulders relaxing as the tension melted out of them. These were the moments that he forgot that he was Batman, and that under the dress shirt he had rolled to his elbows, cuts littered his biceps, and his stomach and chest were painted black and blue. He forgot that he had a multibillion-dollar empire in his hands and more voicemails from board members in his phone than contacts. He got to just be Bruce, pure and unfiltered. for a moment the tiredness seeped out of his eyes, and he felt ten years younger when he was with you. No, he actually felt his age for once, like the world wasn't spinning on its axis at double speed anymore. He felt like a young man, strong and capable, and not the weary heart that surpassed Alfred's with baggage. He felt when he was with you that he was the Bruce he was supposed to be, the Bruce he could have been had that night never come to pass. So, when he looked at you, so carefree and determined to make this gingerbread batmobile with him simply because you wanted to spend time with him, he finally felt like a man that his parents in heaven could be proud of.

"What are you looking at?" you huff, making him look down at you. you've slithered between both of his arms to ice the doors he tried to attach, a smear of icing on your forehead. He casts his signature grin down to you, shaking his head. "You, of course, darling." he murmurs amused. "Have you finished?"

"Just about." you grin, pushing hair from your eyes.

"c'mere," he says, pulling you up by the forearms once he's let go of the gingerbread mess he'd made. grabbing a napkin form the end of the table he wets it lightly before dragging it across our forehead in small strokes, making sure the sugar melted off your forehead. "You got a little personal with the creation there, dear." he chuckles. god he wishes you could look at him with those grateful eyes forever. The way that your lips curls at the corners when you smile at him.

"And you said that this was a silly idea." you grin, looping your arms around his neck. His arms settle to your waist, and he bumps your foreheads together.

"Yes, well, I've known to be wrong at times." he playfully scoffs.

"And is this one?"

"This is most definitely one." he grins, pulling you close for a kiss. The taste of you is coated with a faint spice, icing powder and small flicks of frosting accidentally coating your lips. You respond happily, the smile that splits your face breaking the seal of the kiss.

"Have you been stealing the gingerbread?" he asks, eyebrows raised.

"No." you protest, batting his pec with mock offense.

"Then why can I taste it on you?" he teases back, rocking with you side to side.

"Maybe you’re the one that’s been stealing it. You gingerbread stealer, Christmas thief."

He shakes his head, laughing. "You're impossible."

"You love me anyways." you grin, kissing his chin.

"That I do." he says softly, looking down. "That I do."

When you both finished your creations, you displayed them in the kitchen alongside the rest of the families. Alfred normally made the one gingerbread house, seen by guests at the annual Gala and late year clients of Wayne Industries. His was a large replica of Wayne tower this year, dusted with snow and melted sugar-stained windows.

Next to it sat Dick's, the one who had convinced the rest of the family to make gingerbread house this year. It was a simple traditional house, with sugar spearmint leaves for bushes and a gumdrop walkway. It was a little broken in the roof, the proof of his ambition lying in the chocolate Santa he had placed in the chimney. As a result, the roof was slowly sinking in from the weight.

Tim was the only other sibling to have participated in Grayson's forced bonding, Jason being out of state for something suddenly and the rest of the manor having their own holiday plans. That just left you two with the toy boys and Alfred this year. In comparison he had created what seemed to be the most structurally sound house. "What is this?" Bruce asked puzzled. you put your house on the table, bending down to look at it closer.

"I don't know," you reply equally confused. "Some sort of condo?"

"It's so...boxy." Bruce hums.

"I think it's supposed to be high end and modern. Look, there's a driveway and this must be a garage." You point at another section of the house. The whole thing looked like a luxury villa, supported by beams made from chocolate swirl sticks. Bruce hums.

"Well at least it's not going to fall apart." he shakes his head. "Unlike this one." he holds up his own creation. When he's placed it in line next to yours (a tasteful beach house complete with surfboards out the front) you pinch his side.

"I love it." you smile, leaning into his side and he puts an arm over your shoulder. "Did you ever build gingerbread houses as a kid?"

He shakes his head. "No, not really. I only got to watch Alfred; this is my first time."

"Well, be proud of yourself, Mr Wayne." you tease, pointing to his batmobile. "It's a gorgeous first build."

"You think so?" He asks, smiling down at you.

"I know so." you reply.

Together you had fixed the batmobile and decorated it. It was a replica of one of his earlier models, back when he first started being the Dark Knight. It held together well, decorated sparingly so it looked festive and not tacky. You had helped him cut shapes from sweets to decorate the dash with the buttons, and the wheels were covered with split Oreos.

you don’t miss the way that his eyes soften and light up when you compliment him and his car, like a young boy proud of making the podium in a race or getting a ribbon at the science fair. "Let's do this again next year." you hum, bumping his shoulder with your head.

He looks at your two creations side by side, smiling softly before he looks up for a moment. he whispers a small thank you to the two angels watching over him who had brought you into his life, before dropping a kiss to the crown of your head.

"I think that will make a wonderful Christmas." he whisper softly.

And he wouldn’t have it any other way from now on.

[my-debauchery]

Visit.

idol!jaemin × gn!reader

g`fluff

cw`kissing, some happy tears

A/N:jaemin got 3 votes so i hope no one is upset. i know it's not extremely festive and for that i apologies. i hope you like it anyway and have happy and peaceful christmas, if you celebrate. as always, constructive criticism is more than welcome. if you see mistakes in cw tagging, please, let me know.

you could feel it in the air. be it the festive spirit or 6 shots of espresso, that you had an hour ago, you can not decide.

somehow this christmas morning feels different, as you sit and watch the morning news in your pajamas. eating leftovers from the yesterday's celebratory dinner at your parents house.

you feelt slightly sad that your boyfriend couldn't join, but then again you knew what it's gonna be like dating an idol. you talked on the phone for a bit and he had to go back to the rehearsal for sbs's gayodaejeon. you probably won't be able to see each other till after the new years celebration.

as you get up to clean up your plate, there is a chime of the lock from the front door. you think it must be your sister's coming to pick you up for your walk, so you continue on to the kitchen.

'i just finished breakfast. let me change and we can go' you call out to them and load the dishes in the dishwasher.

suddenly you are engulfed by something cold and rustling.

'where i are you going?' you can hear a smile in jaemin's voice, even though he is speaking in to your neck 'can you delay your plans for a bit?' there is a playful intonation in his question.

you turn around in his arms and look up astonished 'what are you doing here? aren't you supposed to be practicing or doing million other things in preparation for your performance? or resting?' you say worriedly, noticing slight dark circles and a sleepy gaze.

'maybe' he says and lowers his head on your left shoulder, mumbling 'or i can snuggle with you for an hour' you don't need to be told twice, so you move back to the couch and drop down with him.

you settle down and wrap yourself around jaemin. he takes a deep breath in 'you smell like ch-' you look up with a mischievous smile 'home?' he gives a quiet laugh and pinches your nose lightly 'no, love. you smell like christmas'

you pout and look away 'i bought a new body wash and i smell delicious' you say triumphantly and poke his chest 'i know. i can just bite your hands of for breakfast' he says and try to catch your hands and do just that.

jaemin tackles you on the ground and traps your underneath him. you try to break free, but he is stronger 'maybe you shouldn't have used it, you know i already can gobbel you up on any given day' he grins down on you.

you puff out your chest and lift your chin up 'first you should take your jacket off, show some manners. this is an establishment of fine dining and a certain class. not just anyone can eat here' you finish off with a lifted brow.

he takes off his jacket and tosses it to the side 'not anyone you say?' you nod and cross your arms 'of course not, only the most special people, in the most dignified positions' you say with an air of self-imposed importance.

he smiles an almost manic smile 'what about fiancé's? and futer husband's? are they special and dignified enough?' jaemin reaches in to his pocket and you feel you heart skip a couple beats. he outstretches his hand with an open palm on which lays a ring.

you skoot out from underneath him and sit on your knees in front of jaemin. you take the ring with shaky hands and look at it. it a simple silver band with sprinkling of small crystals and ingraving of yours and jaemin's initials on the inside. you feel dumbfounded and lost for words, so you just look at it.

you don't know for how long you sit like that 'will you take it? it's a promise ring. i know we can't marry right now, but one day. when things quite down a little we can' you feel tears drip down your face and your vision gets a little bit blurry.

jaemin nudges you lightly 'are you okay? is it a no and you just thinking how to tell me? you know i can always book a table later. i know your fine establishment is very popular' you snort and launch yourself forward to bear hug him.

'i love you so much. you don't need no booking. i'm afraid our establishment is closing for private service for the foreseeable future. you are our most honorable guest after all' you whisper in to his ear.

jaemin hugs you back 'the honor is all mine' you feel the sobs shake his body and run your hands along his back and sides.

you peel away from each other and he takes the ring from your hands. jaemin gently holds your hand and puts the ring on 'please, never leave me. i will do anything and everything to make you happy. i will learn and grow with you till tax collectors and fire department close you down'

you laugh and give him a short kiss. you both turn towards his discarded jacket, from which his phone is ringing and buzzing 'i'm afraid you need to go' you tell him and move to your feet.

jaemin follows suit and gets up. he holds your face, slightly squishing your cheeks 'i love you. i'll call you later, then i get to the show and before we go up. i love you. please don't forget to dress warmly if you go out. i love you. i'll try to get couple hours free to celebrate with our families and friends, before the new year. i love you. please watch our performance, but look only at me. i love you'

you squish his face back 'i love you. i'll be waiting for you here, if you can, stay the night today. i love you. i'll stay warm and won't get sick, i promise. i love you. i would love to celebrate with everyone, but don't stress about it. i love you. i'll watch it and you know i only have eyes for you. i love you' you pinch his cheeks 'you should go or the others will chew you out'

he lets go of you and picks up his jacket. jaemin fishes out his phone and answers it 'yes, hyung i'm going down. sorry for not answering. i'll be out in a minute' he moves towards the front door and you follow him.

jaemin puts his jacket and shoes on and looks at you. you move to stand in front of him and kiss him again. he turns to exit and you hold on to his right hand. just as he is about to step out of your apartment, you cheerily say 'thank you for your visit. please, come again!'

the last thing you hear is jaemin's bright laugh echoing in the corridor.

[puzzlesauria]

Man and his loyal friend

[rafey-baby]

dealer!rafe knows just the right way to apologize after coming home late once again…

18+ mdni!

c/w: kinda free use, p-in-v, angsty undertones?

wc: 820

part two

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It’s past midnight when she stirs awake in their unlit bedroom to Rafe’s calloused hands roaming along the skin of her waist as he slumps down on top of her, groaning when he can feel her delicate presence underneath him, at last.  

It’s unbearably thermal, which is why she’s merely wearing a flimsy top as she lays on her stomach under the covers; softened bones feeling mellow under the weight of his heavy limbs profoundly pressing her into the mattress.  

She tries to move around some, albeit unsuccessfully as his much bigger body cages her between the rumpled sheets and his strong abdomen and she lets out a displeased huff because he was supposed to be back hours ago. 

“Rafe? Where were you? Waited for you…” she sounds almost upset with her mind hazy; dreamy sleep still lingering. 

“Just had to take care of some shit, m’sorry,” he murmurs, guilt weighing him down at the prospect of making her sad. It’s something he seems to be doing a lot these days. 

“Missed my girl all day,” he burrows his face in her hair, inhaling the dulcet coconut scent of her favorite conditioner still present in the damp strands.  

She sighs.  

“Thought you said you’d come home early tonight and we’d watch a movie…” she complains, voice still coated in the glimmer of the dreamland she’s been forced to wake up from.  

“I know, baby. But listen, you’ll get me all to yourself tomorrow, yeah?” His honeyed words soothe her some but she’s still discontented. He always does this. Promises something and then gets her hopes up thinking he’s finally going to keep his word but every time some shit comes up.  

“Was worried something happened,” she persists, a frown obscuring her face as he presses a sugary kiss on her cheek in apology. That’s the other thing, it’s not exactly the fact that he works too much that concerns her, but the nature of his business. It’s dangerous.  

After all, he doesn’t keep a gun tucked in the waistband of his pants whenever he leaves the house for nothing. And even if she knows he can take care of himself, she can’t help but feel a sense of relief wash over her whenever he opens the front door unscathed. 

“Don’t have to worry about me, you know that,” he scolds, peeling the covers off her frame and tugging her closer by a grip on her hips.  

“But Rafe—” she whines. 

“But nothing," he interrupts her as he tugs down the zipper of his pants. "Look so sweet when you sleep, gets me so hard, you know?” He mumbles before she feels him poking at her entrance.  

“I’m still mad at you,” she complains with a pout. However, she doesn’t exactly do anything to stop him. Craves to feel close to him in any and every capacity he lets her, even if it can be exhausting to love him as much as she does. 

“Shh, let me say hi to my pussy, hm?” Love it when you’re not wearing any panties to bed, make it so easy for me to just…” he trails off, finishing the sentence with a nudge of his hips against her; tucking his cock into the warmth of her with his fingers sinking into the flesh of her ass.  

“Ray…” she whimpers; the odd intimacy they seem to share in the quietest hours of the day always comforting her in some peculiar way.

“Let me make it up to you, okay?” It’s more of a demand than a request and she has no choice but to let him do as he pleases when he pushes in deeper; prodding at the spongy spot inside her and making her cry out.  

“Yeah? That feel nice?” He pants in her ear; shoving her face more into the fluffy pillows with each thrust of his hips against her.  

“Promise, I’ll take the day off tomorrow and we can do whatever you want, can watch all the movies and make some food and could run you a bath, hm?” He rasps in her ear as her breathy moans get louder by every drag of his cock in and out of her gummy walls.  

His rough hands slide between the mattress and her body, groping at the flesh of her tits as he’s letting out guttural groans from the back of his throat; thrusts growing sloppy in their search for a release in the all too forgiving girl who wishes Rafe was always like this.  

The way he’s talking to her right now initiates false hope in her and she thinks that maybe one day she’ll be able to actually trust his empty promises.  

However, she knows that the minute he gets a call regarding a missing shipment or a late payment, he’s going to have to leave to make sure everything’s in order; returning after nightfall the following day because that’s what always happens. 

[rbfclassy]

more ex husband toji plsssss

BABY DADDY TOJI! — TOJI FUSHIGURO

SYNOPSIS...nsfw and sfw headcanons of baby daddy!toji

INFO...baby daddy!toji x fem!reader, toji is also your ex husband, little bit of angst, some fluff, toxic!toji, reader and toji have a daughter, toji is a good dad, possessiveness, arguing, oral (f!receiving), p in v, mentions of marriage, not proofread

OTHER...likes and reblogs are appreciated

baby daddy!toji who is quite literally annoying, always bothering you when he comes over to pick up his daughter. He’ll make jokes about you, constantly poke you. You swear he’s like a big man child

baby daddy!toji who constantly has women wrapped around his arm every few months, and as much as you tell him you don’t want your daughter around that he never listens to you because why would he?

baby daddy!toji who is also your ex husband, little do you know he always keeps his ring in his pocket

baby daddy!toji who still has a soft spot for you. No matter how many arguments or fights your guys get into he is always right behind you in every situation. You called him one night crying because you were stranded at a bar, scared. Toji nearly ran out the house barefoot to come and pick you up

baby daddy!toji who isn’t afraid to say you still look sexy to him. Hand always caressing your cheek before you swat it away and ask him, “don’t you got a girl?” Oh yeah, he does

baby daddy!toji whose relationships never last longer than 2-3 months because they’re simply not you. He knows he’ll never be able to replace you but he still tries (he ends up giving up)

baby daddy!toji who spoils his baby girl, buying her toys, clothes, shoes, whatever she wants. He loves seeing her cute smile and chubby cheeks because she looks just like you

baby daddy!toji who hates how toxic you and him are to each other which ultimately ended up in the downfall of your marriage. But besides that, you two were perfect together and he misses that

baby daddy!toji who loses his shit when he find out through gojo that you’re going on a date with someone. He pulls up to your house banging on the door before you swing it open. He’s barging in, slamming your door shut and y’all instantly get into a heated argument. “Don’t be slamming my doors, Toji! You don’t pay for shit in this house!” You yell, a scowl on your face. “I don’t give a fuck! When were you gonna tell me you were fucking somebody else?!” You weren’t even fucking the guy, you didn’t even get to go out on a date with him yet.

baby daddy!toji who let’s you go out on your date, but he knows he ruined your mood, mentally cursing at himself for being so possessive over you. He can’t help it. That’s why he’s texting you ‘even if we aren’t together you’re still mine’ while you’re on your date. He doesn’t give a shit if the guy sees

baby daddy!toji who shows up to your house unannounced, early in the morning to apologize. “I’m sorry for how I acted, mamas. Let me make it up to you, yeah?” Your knees are pushed to your chest as his tongue is lapping at your clit, long drawn out moans filling the room, your fingers entangled in his hair. “Mmmm, I hate you so much,” You whimper, legs twitching as the pleasurable sensation. “Shhh, just let me make you feel good.”

baby daddy!toji who has your favorite flowers sent to your door as another apology, a note written on the small card asking if you forgive him yet

baby daddy!toji who gets sad whenever your daughter asks why you and him aren’t together anymore, letting a sigh because he knows she’s too young to understand. It’s times like these where he wishes you and him could be happy together. “Let’s just say daddy has been mean to mommy a few times.”

baby daddy!toji who always shows up to the parent events and shows. His baby girl is being featured in a play? He’s there in the audience with you. She’s getting an award for student of the month? He’s right there congratulating her. If he can’t be the best boyfriend, he sure as hell is gonna be the best father

baby daddy!toji who notices the moments when you feel insecure about yourself, noticing the days when you’re quiet and more reserved, noticing how you hide away from him when he picks up your daughter. You’ve been having insecurity issues ever since giving birth to your baby girl and toji hates that you can’t see how good you look all of the time. “That outift looks good on you, might have to give Mia another sibling,” he says with a smile. “Toji!” You gasp, playfully smacking his arm. But he sees that smile on your face and hopes he made your day a little better

baby daddy!toji who got too drunk one night and crashed at your place in the middle of night. He was drunkenly babbling as you were taking care of him. “I miss us. You were my girl. You still are my girl,” he spoke. His words made you freeze as you stopped and stared at him for a moment. “You’re drunk, Toji.” You shook your head. He meant every word he said

baby daddy!toji who pops up when he gets a late night text from you asking him to come over. He’s there in a flash, never able to deny you. You two on each other the minute he walks through the door, sloppily kissing each other while he carries you to the bedroom

baby daddy!toji who can fuck you slow and sensual or fast and rough. His favorite position is missionary so he can look at your pretty face while you cum on his dick for the third time. “Missed me, mamas?” He asks, breathless. You nod with a whimper, eyes searching his, the tip of his dick rubbing against your sweet spot with each thrust of his hips. “Oh fuck, I missed you too.”

baby daddy!toji who swears up and down you’ll be the best he’s ever had, literally wifey material in his eyes. You’re beautiful, amazing personality, a good mother, makes him laugh, and you got good pussy. It’s all worth it when you drive him crazy or make him upset. What more could he ask for? One day he’ll put a ring on it

baby daddy!toji who is big on cuddling. This man is a tank, beefy as hell. Who are you to deny a cuddle from him? He’ll wrap you up in his arms after a bad day or after sex and you just fall asleep instantly

baby daddy!toji who stares down any man that look at you when you ask him to take you to run some errands. If looks could kill, multiple people would be dead. He doesn’t like how they’re practically stripping you with their eyes and having sex with you in their head. Only he can do such a thing—in real life too

baby daddy!toji who gains the courage to talk to you and ask if you’re willing to try again with him and be a family. You’re his forever girl no matter the stupid arguments or situations. He’s scared of what you’ll say but he just needs to know or it’ll always be a dying question in his mind. So, would you?

[sh1-n0bu]

♡︎ 𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙥𝙮 𝙮𝙖𝙣𝙙𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙝𝙪𝙨𝙗𝙖𝙣𝙙! ♡︎

characters: sub!yandere!AFAB!characters x dom!gn!reader

warnings: character uses he/him pronouns but has female genitalia/tcock (words such as pussy, vagina, cunt will be used), character is transmale, reader has you/your pronouns, cock/strap, yandere character, established relationship, protected sex, unprotected sex (don’t do that folks), breeding, creampie, belly bulge, mentions of pregnancy, mentions of death and light torture

notes: you can think of any character you want with this fic, i just had a wild thought during a car ride at my vacation. divider from @/cafekitsune

yandere! husband who has been in love with you since they first met you. what started out as a simple fascination developed into an unhealthy obsession until he finally got the courage to ask you out on an official date

yandere! husband who gets surprised when you accept his ask for a date, sheepishly smiling as you tell him that you found him pretty and had been building up the courage to do the same. who nearly fall into his knees right then and there with sheer nervousness yet also giddiness at your confession, finding the wobbly smile on your face endearing

yandere! husband who gradually built a stable relationship with you over time. there were moments where he thought of just drugging you up and stealing you away to keep you all to himself but he chastised himself for such thoughts when you have been nothing but loyal and honest. he thought of killing those annoying bitches and assholes who tried to hit on you or blatantly flirted with you in front of him, imagining cutting out their tongue and burning their eyes with scolding hot iron only to snap back to the present when your hand wound around his waist, introducing him as your lover excitedly

yandere! husband who got scared when you accidentally walked in while he was changing after a shower, terrified that you will leave him after having seen his top scars and cunt. who could hear his heartbeat in his own ears, rapidly beating like a frightened bird thrown into a cage while he waited your reaction. who try to apologize only to be cut off with your comforting words and accepting hug

yandere! husband who proposed to you first, getting on both of his knees as he presented you the ring in the box. who lets out a sweet laugh when you kneel down in return, showing your own ring that you bought for him

yandere! husband who definitely cried on your wedding, wiping away his tears silently as he turns his back to you, not wanting you to see him in such a weak and vulnerable state. turning back to you with the wet handkerchief still in his hand, who can feel the tears coming back once again as he sees your knowing look and comforting smile

yandere! husband who is happy with your married life. the new adventures of moving into a new house, decorating it to your liking and modifying your rooms being an exciting life for him. he loved the moments where you two put paint of each other’s faces instead of painting the walls, choosing the colors on complete random with an eeny, meeny, mini, mo game, dancing with you bare feet in the kitchen as you both wait for the water to boil for the cup ramen at midnight. he would want to hold your hand in his own, the wedding rings clicking against each other softly as he giggles

yandere! husband who wants to try for a baby after years into the marriage. it was a surprise to him how he managed to wait patiently for so long after your marriage. while he wanted desperately to get himself knocked up at the night of consummation of your marriage, he understood your wishes to wait until the perfect time. finally, he thinks it is the perfect timing, after years of protected sex and daydreams of feeling his cunt get filled, tells you of his plan

yandere! husband who purposefully poked a tiny hole into every condom there is at your home, who huffs a fake annoyed noise whenever the material tears as you try to put it around your strap. he may have a pout on his face and talk about trying it raw on the outside but on the inside he is fucking giddy. he wants to feel your cock constantly pushing into his wet pussy walls so bad and he couldn’t help but curse silently under his breath when you take out a lone condom that was thankfully reserved in the pockets of one of your pants

yandere! husband who suggests on riding you instead of taking it as usual. a sudden change in your usual sex life but you didn’t mind trying new things out. laying on your back, you watch and let out occasional groans and low moans as you see how his sweet pussy swallows you whole, the fat of his ass higgling every time he bounces himself on your strap, asking you to slap and squeeze it. which you do gladly, lightly slapping as the jiggling flesh, making your husband giggle

yandere! husband who gets annoyed as the feeling of the condom around your cock, skillfully bouncing himself until he ‘accidentally’ slips your strap out. he swears it was the amount of lube you used, grabbing your cock with his hand and tapping his dripping pussy with the tip. your husband who makes a show, wiggling his hips as he slides the tip inside and sinking down until he feels full again. not yet, he thinks to himself, knowing that you would get suspicious if he tries his plan too early on

yandere! husband who keeps ‘accidentally’ slipping your strap out of his gushing cunt, whining until his patience finally ends. the next time it slips out, his fingers pinch at the tip of the wet condom, pulling on the material with a pout and a mumbled “it’s in the way..” until it comes off with a lewd pop!

yandere! husband who disregards your frantic words of protection and taking a second for you to put on another one, turning around to face you now as he sinks down onto your strap with one move. the feeling of your own cock, without any annoying latex in the way making him cream around your fat cockhead instantly, a drawn out satisfied whine falling from his lips

yandere! husband who clenches around your strap on purpose every time he moves. his hands guiding yours to touch his chest, the top scars that healed beautifully and to squeeze and fondle his nipples “u-until i sta—anngh ah haagh mmgh♡︎! start to lactate, just like your sweet baby momma uungh♥︎!!” while his pretty pussy squeezes your strap like a vice, unwilling to let go or not even daring to think so. he wanted to feel your cum, hot seeds painting his walls white and making his legs shake

yandere! husband who silences your weak protests for a protection with a messy kiss. noses knocking together, tongue immediately pushing into your mouth and wanting to ‘connect’ with you on a deeper level. he wanted everything you have to offer and seeing the small trail of saliva left behind as you pulled back for a gasping breath made him giggle deliriously

yandere! husband who increases his pace when he hears you struggling to talk, words of cumming together coming out in a jumbled mess as he sits himself fully in your lap. pushing your pelvises together until no gap was between them, throwing his head back with a satisfied mewl when he finally feels it. that warmth he’s been craving so long, filling up his womb, mixing with his love juice as the excessive mixed cum drops down your strap

yandere! husband who gets pushed into his back, legs pushed up and over until his knees were beside his head. put into a mating press with your annoyed face staring down at him just made him clench around you, a drunk giggle of your name falling from his lips. he gladly spreads his weeping pussy open further, with you still inside him, letting you see the mess you two made

yandere! husband who drops his act entirely, wiggling his hips with heart shaped pupils as he asks you to breed him. cum inside him as many times as you want, he wants a baby with you, it’s about time you two take your relationship to the next level. “i’ll be a good baby momma… and you’re already a wonderful lover who would become a wonderful parent. come on [name], breed me full of your seeds♥︎”

yandere! husband who gets fucked thoroughly to his wish. crying out all sorts of filthy words every time your cock sinks back into his cunt. thin drools on his chin, old tear stains constantly being replaced by new ones as his pussy clenches around you for the nth time, forcing you to cum earlier than you usually does. overwhelming amount of your mixed cum wetting the bedsheets, your thighs and his own as well as his butt. not like he cared, he wanted to make sure he gets knocked up, that you get him knocked up as he creams around you again, creating an even thicker halo of white around your strap

yandere! husband who shows his filthier side, holding your head against his chest and asking you to suck on his nipples, who place your hand over his tcock, telling you to “s-stroke! my cock too ahh haagh♡︎ mgh n-not fair that mmuungh uunghk my cock is being left alone♡︎!”

yandere! husband who lets out one last hoarse wail, the wetness of his cunt making you groan as your strap cums inside him for the nth time that night before collapsing on top of him. he had passed out, tired from the continuous pounding he received as he lay there peacefully with flushed red cheeks, tearstains and drools on his chin and cheeks while pretty bruises and lovebites cover his skin. the most notable bruises being the ones on his hips and thighs, making you grimace at the painful wound you saw. but hey, the small bulge in his belly from your excessive cum inside his womb made you happy. it definitely made him happy too

yandere! husband who occasionally regains consciousness during your aftercare for him. who groans and refuses to let you pull out for bath, straddling your lap inside the warm water filled bathtub. he couldn’t help but slur out a “noo… don’t pull out” as you push his pelvic away from yours, feeling the cum inside his pussy to drip down his legs

yandere! husband who now eagerly wait for the signs of pregnancy with a full boxes of pregnancy test at his side of the nightstand, who still poke secret holes into your condoms because when did he said he wanted only one baby with you?

⇨ characters i think fits: jing yuan, dan feng, yingxing, sunday, aventurine, argenti, dan heng il, gepard, sampo, luocha, caelus, luka, jiaoqui, itto, baizhu, ayato, thoma, childe, pantalone, dottore, kaeya, kaveh, lyney, neuvillette, sethos, heizou, venti, rubedo, aalto, xiangli yao, scar, yoriichi, haganezuka, douma, kaigaku, jyugo, uno, kiji, honey, trois, kenshirou yozakura, musashi, houzuki sanzou, ruka gojou, seitarou, tsukumo, mitsuru, sinbad, sharkkan, spartos, koumei, titus, muu alexius, sphintus, rafayel, mammon, asmodeus, mephistopheles, diavolo, belphegor, simeon, solomon, satan + anyone you like

[hon3y-y]

Roomie!sukuna; part 4

read the other parts here! : part 1 part 2 part 3

cw : smutttt & fluff<3, oblivious!reader, pervy!sukuna, sex toys, oral (m&f), p in v, dubcon(?), breeding kink, overstim, s*x tapes, somno(¿not really but maybe?), dumbification, big d*ck!sukuna, sub!reader, dom!sukuna, etc etc

*not edited*

wc ~ 6.5k

enjoy<3

Sukuna has been on lockdown since the incident with Gojo. He hasn’t spoken to you longer than five minutes in passing, always having “something” to do. It’s driving you crazy, and as much as you want to barge in and get him to speak, you noticed that trying to force proximity only made things worse and attempted to give him the space he wanted.

But you miss your best friend, the best roommate you could possibly ask for, and the silence between you started to make you feel physically ill. The guilt was eating you up inside, and you were scared that by breaking this boundary, you might have ruined everything. It felt different this time; the house felt extremely cold, unlike its usual warm and welcoming atmosphere. So, after Friday rolled around, you decided enough was enough.

You let out a breath before raising your fist to knock on his door, patiently waiting for an answer. “ryo..? it’s me.." You wanted to roll your eyes at your own words. I mean, who else could it be? You two would have bigger problems if random people were knocking on your bedroom door.

Before you could beat yourself up about it, Sukuna’s door flew open, revealing himself shirtless with a pair of grey sweats hanging loosely off his waist. He looked beyond good; that extra time spent in the gym was showing and made you want to drool. “what?”

You look up at him, feeling frustrated, confused, and a little horny by how his nonchalant attitude worked so well on him. “Ryo, I’m sorry.” Sukuna tilted his head in mock confusion.

“for?”

You let out a grunt; even when you try to be the bigger person, he always has to make it extra difficult, huh? You crossed your arms over your chest, the movement making his eyes zero in on your cleavage on perfect display through your tank top. Maybe if he does this long enough, you’ll flash him to make him feel better. Sukuna fought a smirk as he adjusted his eyesight back at your head, his face remaining stoic.

“I’m apologizing for how everything went with Gojo. I didn’t realize how much you two didn’t get along, and... Ryo, it wasn’t my intention to make you uncomfortable.”

“And yet, you brought him home?” he quirks his brow, hand reaching to grab one of his shirts and slip it on.

You let out another noise of frustration: “I thought it was a joke between you two! I mean, Gojo is really not that bad. He's sweet when you—“ Sukuna rolled his eyes, the hardening of his body language made you stop short. “That’s not important—I'm sorry, Kuna’. You should always feel comfortable in your own home, and I don't want you to think I don't value that.” You looked at him with sincerity, your hands dropping from their defensive positioning.

He stayed silent, his tongue pressing against his cheek while he thought. Sukuna scoffs, looking forward and away from you. “You’re a dumbass.”

His words made you smile, jumping up to hug him. Ryo wrapped his arms around you, a small grin on his lips when you let out a squeal. You look and sound so cute, it’d be impossible for him to stay mad. (Plus, he got to feel your soft, plushy boobs touching him which made his mouth water)

“I got our favorite snacks and have a whole list of scary movies for us to binge. no gojo included too?” You spoke, pulling away to look at him. “oh really?” He hums, his hand moving to push back some hair that covered your face. You nod, "I’ll go and get everything in the cute candy bowls we have!”

As you walk away, Sukuna leans on his door frame to watch the way your plump behind poked out of your shorts, eyes zeroing in to the exposed flesh. What a pretty little thing you are...

He pushes himself off the door and into the kitchen, standing behind you before leaning down to whisper in your ear, “You look great in those shorts, by the way.”

Before you can speak, he’s backing away and into the living room while you stand wide-eyed. it doesn’t take much for you to brush it off, sukuna is a flirt and does it to everyone, simply chalking up the comment as Ryo being a tease, nothing more. When you get inside, you notice Sukuna is man-spreading, nearly taking up most of the couch with his long legs.

You let out a huff. “Ryo, move your leg so I can sit.“

Ryomen hums, leaning further back. “What’s the magic word, princess?”

His words make you glare: “I’m not five sukuna.”

He scoffs, poking your side. “hey! I thought you wanted my forgiveness. This is just going to make me more mad.”

You bow your head, sucking your teeth in plain annoyance. “Please,” you mumble, your small voice barely being heard.

Sukuna smirks, enjoying this way more than he’s supposed to. “I’m sorry, I can’t hear you. y’need to say it louder, princess.”

You sneer, looking at him silently as if to ask if he was being serious or fucking with you, and after his face not changing once, it's safe to say he wasn’t. you clear your throat, “Please move.”

He grins, moving his leg to let you sit, which you do, but not without mumbling under your breath, setting the candy down so that you didn’t have to worry about it falling when you playfully shoved him. “You’re an ass.” Both of you laughed, with Sukuna pushing you back.

Sukuna sighs, and you notice the reluctance in his eyes before he speaks anyway, “I missed you.”

At his confession, you coo’d teasingly. “Aww, Sukuna has a soft spot!” poking his face, making him roll his eyes, and nip at your finger. although, if he’s being honest, he is anything but soft.

but you don’t need to know that. yet.

Sukuna picks a movie that has the best rating, hoping it’s enough to scare you into his arms (and it always is). You’re cuddled up to him, eating a nerd gummy cluster when you let out a high-pitched scream and cover your eyes. “What the fuck was that!?”

He lets out a chuckle, rubbing his hand down your arm to relax you. “Calm down—it wasn’t even that gory.“

“His head was just chopped off.”

“I’ve seen worse.” You glance at him with irritation before looking back at the movie. “Oh, sorry, I forgot I was watching a scary movie with Captain ‘I watched Gore at Five.’”

Sukuna didn’t need to respond, feeling you tighten around him as the movie got progressively scarier. To be completely honest, these movies were the least interesting part of the night. The way you clung to him was far more entertaining. you spent most of the time making observations about how ‘stupid’ the characters were, even joking to ease the tension, only to either jump or make some weird guttural sound that you attempted to hide with a cough or clearing on your throat. Thankfully, the movie started to play its end credits before you were scared into a premature heart attack, literally letting out a sigh of relief as the names rolled in.

Ryo stood up to bring everything inside, a bit disappointed that it was over because he was enjoying the way you relied on him for comfort. Just as he turned to exit, he was halted by you gently tugging on his arm. “Maybe we can play a game or something?”

“Are you... scared?” he chuckled.

“what!? No, I’m not—“ You let out a scream when the ending credits had a jump scare that was loud; your defense so high that you nearly punched him when he grabbed you. Sukuna stared at you with a blank expression. “Okay, it was a little scary.”

After what felt like hours of sukuna laughing, teasing, and poking fun at your fears, the two of you sat on the couch as a comedy show played in the background—anything to distract you from the thought of guts, blood, and murder. Sukuna suggested a few drinks would help you relax, so now the both of you sat on the couch, slightly tipsy, while playing a game.

you both originally tried to play monopoly, but realized how long it would take and gave up. Then you tried to play Trouble but realized half the game pieces were missing (courtesy of Sukuna’s baby brother Yuji, who decided to hide the pieces instead of play with them). and after remembering that you left both of your favorite card games at your friend's house, you opted for a more verbal one.

“Truth or dare?” he asked, eating one of his candies.

“truth”

Sukuna nodded, thinking for a second, “Have you had a recent wet dream, and if so, tell me who it was with and what happened?” He smirked, popping in a jolly rancher. “Good one, right?”

You rolled your eyes at him and retracted your words, "I pick dare.”

“Give me a lap dance.”

You let out a deep sigh. “You’re such a perv, you know that?” Sukuna nods, chewing his candy. “So, what’s it gonna be? Should I be playing some music?“

You shook your head. you debated what to do for a moment, measuring out what would cause you more embarrassment and made a decision. “I had a wet dream like..two months ago.” You refuse to look at him, instead taking a sip from the drinks he prepared for you two.

He nods, motioning for you to keep going. “I asked for a lot more than that.”

“i..don’t remember.”

He groans, “Cmon, just say it. We gotta play the game right.”

“It was about... Satoru—” Sukuna wants to stop the game, suddenly very uninterested in everything coming out of your mouth. In fact, he felt extremely tired and definitely needed to get some rest for whatever he had planned for tomorrow (nothing). “and…you.” That makes him perk up, feeling all the alcohol disappear from his body, like your words sobered him up.

“What about me?” a cocky smirk on his lips.

You take a big gulp from your glass, setting down the now-empty cup. “It was weird.” You started to explain the dream in the fastest way possible, talking about how Satoru had given you a remote vibrator and instructed you to wear it around the house. Well, Sukuna happened to be there, and after finding out, “you know...”

“I don’t know,” he replied quickly, invested in the story.

“It just got a little...rated R. and you were on the phone with toru and…yeah.. i mean, it’s not like those dreams even mean anything.” you tried to brush it off unsuccessfully.

Sukuna was rock hard, staring at you in awe. When you finished telling the story, you put your hands over your face, feeling uneasy. “Do you have one?”

“one what?” You peaked between your fingers.

“a remote vibrator?”

“That’s not part of the question.” Sukuna nods, letting it go (even though he’s never wanted an answer more in his life). “Your turn, truth or dare?”

“dare.”

The moment the words slipped from his tongue, you began to smirk, causing Sukuna to narrow his eyes, wondering what you could possibly be planning—

“Give me a lap dance.”

Ryo scoffed, shaking his head in a firm ‘no’ motion. “absolutely not, truth.”

“Tell me why you hate Satoru." Wow, well played. a double-edged sword. Why did he hate Satoru? If he were honest with himself, he didn’t have a completely good reason other than that he fucks you. Calling him annoying wasn’t completely true, and he knew you wouldn’t buy it.

What can he say anyway? ‘I hate him because while he fucks you, I'm forced to hump my fist like an out-of-control hormonal teenager and he’s living my dream. not to mention he gets all your attention while i’m left to feel like an intruder in my own home even though I had you before him’??? He’d sound like a fucking loser, and there’s no way in hell that you wouldn’t hold that shit over his head. With a sigh, he stands up, “you gonna choose the song or what?”

He can see the giddiness on your face as you immediately pull your phone out, “turn on the speaker, Kuna'” you scroll through your music, “What about this one?” You turn your phone for him to see. the song of choice? wine pon you by Doja.

Sukuna groans, “Can't you do the song that was in that movie with the male stripper?”

“pony? no. It’s been overdone.” you deadpan. He lets out a sigh, shaking his head while you grab a folding chair and place it down. “You better do it right.”

Sukuna would laugh at your comment if it wasn’t for the fact it was directed at him. While you start the music, he begins to sensually try and remove his shirt making you giggle. His body immediately goes rigid, tips of his ears turning red. “Alright, i’m not doing this if you’re gonna laugh at me the whole time—“

“i’ll stop! keep going!” You immediately cover your mouth. He lowers his sweats a bit, showing off more of his happy trail and glances up at you with an arrogant smirk. “Like it, hm?” You roll your eyes but stay quiet.

He starts off by bringing your hands up to caress him while he grinds against you, the whole thing is both attractive and funny because it’s him of all people. You can’t deny that he actually makes it look really good, especially as he kneels in front of you, leaning back on one arm while his hand drags down his torso teasingly.

He doesn’t make it through the whole song, sadly chickening out after the first chorus is over while you cheer him on, clapping. “Wait, do it again so I can record!” He laughs sarcastically before shutting off the stereo. “Fun's over.”

Once the two of you are back on the couch, he speaks up, “Truth or dare?” Just as you go to say truth, he scowls, “Don’t pick truth again, you chose it all game. What are you, 12?”

You let out a puff of air. “It’s truth or dare! not dare or dare.”

"Okay, and you picked truth all game so it’s been revoked.”

“That’s not how it works.”

“Yeah, it does.” Before you can protest, he’s already talking, “I dare you to let me go through your phone for five minutes. zero limits.”

“And what if I don't let you?” You narrow your eyes, crossing your arms.

He shrugs, “Then you lose. I mean, you lose most of the games we play anyway, so i guess it’s not new to you, hm?”

You want to argue and yell that it’s not true, but it kind of is… See, in the years you and Sukuna have lived together, you were forcibly changed from a sore loser to a quietly sulky one as to not embarrass yourself by the amount of times you and him have gone head to head and you come out the loser. You swear he cheats at most of them (he does), but there’s no evidence, and having a full-blown breakdown over board games is a little under your age range. But you technically can win this; it’s just five minutes?

You grab your phone, unlocking it to set a timer, and throw it on his lap, “Anything you find does not leave this room, you understand?” He ignores you, immediately picking it up and clicking the photos app (like a perv🙄)There’s a bunch of random photos, some screenshots of your home screen that you constantly forget to delete, and some weird selfies that make you grimace, “ew, ryo! Stop looking at it..”

He’s not really listening, though, admiring how even when you’re doing weird and stupid shit you’re just so adorable. If you weren’t intently looking over his shoulder, he would have sent them to himself (he’s so obsessed, he’d probably print them out and make a scrapbook like a little freak). It’s a side of you not shown publicly, and it makes his stomach feel warm and tingly. After about a minute of you non-stop complaining about his fascination with your stupid photos, he exits the app to open your messages.

You watch over his shoulder, cringing as he clicks on your recent chat with your newest fling, Hiromi. the whole chat full of flirty messages and light sexting, along with some photos of you in the purple lingerie set he bought you. “Should I send these to myself too?” Sukuna teases, glancing at the endearing pout you wore at his comment. He scrolled down, clicking on random chats, some more filthy than others but nothing too extreme.

He was about to click off the app when he noticed ‘toru💙’ and scoffed, “what is he? your little boyfriend?” tapping the chat to read through his messages. He wants to groan at how cute Gojo attempts to text you, using the 🥺 emoji after almost every message and using nicknames like ‘baby’ and ‘cutie’, it makes sukuna wanna barf.

While Ryo makes a remark about every “stupid” (his words) comment Satoru makes, you refuse to look, knowing the disappointment that will be very apparent in his face. You decide the ceiling is much more entertaining, resting your head on the back of the couch. see, if you were paying attention, maybe you would’ve seen him click on the shared photos icon, scrolling through until a certain thumbnail caught his eye.

It looked like him sleeping on the couch, but was too blurry to actually tell, so he decided it would be better to watch it, pressing play.

It’s very quiet as you pan the camera to where he softly snores on the couch, turning the camera back to yourself while motioning ‘shh’ as you sit on the couch across from him. You sit up, your legs spread as the camera catches a peek into your tiny shorts to show off your pretty white panties, moving the clothing to the side to show your glistening folds and what looks to be a pink tail peeking from your pussy..?

You bring the camera back up, having it far enough to capture his sleeping frame and your face, giggling quietly before your eyes flutter and a tiny whimper leaves your puffy lips, “oh—fuck!”

You were spaced out until you heard the noise, head immediately snapping up to look at what he was watching. Your stomach drops as you look at yourself literally being caught red-fucking-handed, and before you can snatch the phone away, Sukuna is standing up and turning away so you can’t. “Sukuna! Give it back, now!”

He ignores you, again, laughing at the video the longer it plays. “Oh wow, my roomie is a little porn star~” His eyes zero in to how your eyes cross, guessing that the vibrator went a little too fast and made you see stars. how cute. “And right in front of me? while i’m helpless and sleeping?” He shakes his head, glancing behind himself and at you in mock disbelief.

You’re beyond frustrated, tears of shame gathering in your eyes, “Sukuna! it’s not like that—“

“Then explain,” He turns back around to watch the video, looking at how you roll up your baggy t-shirt to expose your pretty tits. You nervously glanced behind you at his sleeping form before facing the camera again, “i hope he doesn’t wake up~” you pant, tilting the camera to focus on how you play with your swollen clit. “cause’ it looks like my pervy roommate was getting off on the fact i was unaware. hey, didn’t you say that this was just a dream? because this looks very real to me, princess.”

You squeeze your eyes shut, cursing. “i just—i told Gojo about the dream first and he wanted me to act it out but I knew I couldn’t actually get you to do it and so it was the second-best option! I’m sorry, sukuna!” your words jumble together as a lump forms in your throat, You didn’t even recognize how hard you were crying until it was physically becoming hard to breathe. “i’m—sorry!” You hiccup, arms covering your face in humiliation.

At the sound of your sobs, Sukuna turns around and realizes he might have let his amusement get out of hand, quickly shutting your phone and letting it drop on the couch. “w-why are you crying?” You don’t answer, if anything, it makes you sob harder and turn away from his strong gaze. Without hesitation, Ryo begins to rub your back, cooing in your ear, “it’s okay, just breathe”

You don’t believe it; this man just found out you’re a perverted freak, and he’s the one comforting you? You turn to look at him, tears still pooling in your eyes, “What? Why—aren’t you mad?”

Sukuna shrugs, “Should I be?”

“I—I mean, yeah? it’s justifiable…” You feel your stomach sink with every second of silence that passes.

“Why would I be mad?” You feel stumped. Is he trying to make you feel more humiliated? Is this a game? trying to get you to confess more and more to make you feel worse than you already do? “I mean, I guess I am a little. Why didn’t you wake me up anyway?”

His words make you freeze, confusion must be clear on your face because Sukuna continues, “not only did you not let me see it in person, but to not send the video either? That’s just cruel.” He’s smirking again, his signature, ‘up to no good’ look that makes you feel small back on his face. “I guess you’ll have to repay me, huh?”

You gulp, looking up at him. “repay you? how?" His smirk grows into a grin, so evil and menacing but so fucking attractive. “By giving me a live show, my little porn star~”

He instructed you to get dressed into the lingerie set previously shown in the photos you sent Hiromi. You’re not incredibly self-conscious, but as his eyes follow you when you walk into the living room, telling you to turn around and bend over to “give him a proper look," you feel a slight increase of nerves, hoping he enjoys your act of submission.

and he does. the way you nervously play with your fingers, breath hitching when you feel him creep behind you to look at how the lace of your panties cups your pussy. He’s been hard since he saw the video, but his need for you grows with every instruction you follow. so cute and compliant, wanting to do anything to make up for being so naughty. It makes him feel something he’s never felt before.

You’re gripping the back of the loveseat when you feel his fingers trace the slit of your pussy through the lace, pressing a little harder at where your hole is, chuckling when you push back against him. “Does that feel good?” You nod, trying not to speak to not embarrass yourself. He didn’t like that, making you yelp when he suddenly smacked your left ass cheek with a good amount of force, turning to look at him in shock. “Use your voice.”

“yes ryo…”

He hummed, peeling your panties to the side. You were so wet, Sukuna’s eyes were glued to the little strings of arousal that stuck to his fingers whenever he pulled them away, “What a nasty little pussy you have—oh look! She winked at me” You want to shove your head into a wall, feeling your body heat up at the way he talked. so shameless.

“Why don’t you go get me that vibrator, princess.” He gives you a kiss on your ass cheek, the same one he spanked, before pulling away. You obey, returning to the living room again, this time with the egg shaped toy. He makes you sit down, spreading your thighs as he teases you with it, dragging it up and down your slit to get it wet. Your hips gently rock against the sensation, getting choked up as he suddenly pushes it in and pulls your panties back into place.

He makes you kneel on the floor in front of him, already having downloaded and connected the device to his phone. Your eyes are still puffy, and you look up at him with such guilt. He can’t help but lean down to capture your lips, making out with you until you’re panting with your lips all swollen. When he pulls away, he decides to turn the vibration onto a low setting, enjoying the way your eyes become droopy and soft puffs of air leave your mouth. “You wanna suck my cock, pretty girl?”

You rub your thighs together, eyes finally looking down at the thick print he left in his sweats. You look up at him, nodding. "Yes, please” he leans back, getting comfortable, “then go ahead.”

You feel nervous as your hands begin to pull at the strings of his pants, tugging to pull them down. His boxers are tight, giving you an even better glance at just how big he truly was. Before your regular hookups started, you always fantasized about how big Sukuna was. Hearing girl after girl scream his name until their throats went sore and watching them limp out of the apartment the next day was kind of telling, but you were starting to think that you underestimated just how big he was.

With every ounce of courage you could muster, you began to peel his underwear off, your eyes widening when his long cock came out in all its glory. It was huge. not just in length, but in girth, and it was pretty. He kept himself clean, hair trimmed but not shaved, and his pretty tip oozed milky pre-cum, lightly dripping down his dick. “gon’ keep starin’ or what?”

Sukuna indulged in the look on your face as you stared at him, it gave him an ego boost when you tried to wrap your hand around his cock just to realize you couldn’t fully cover it. “t’s big right?” You didn’t answer, knowing he already knew what your response would be, and instead leaned forward to spit on it, your thumb moving to spread the liquid on his tip. He let out a breathy moan, cock twitching when you licked his vein hesitantly, “that’s it, good girl”

You attempted to take as much of him in your mouth as you could, ignoring the way your throat protested. Sukuna’s hands tangled in your hair, jaw loosening, while he watched the way you bobbed your head, looking up at him with teary eyes. spit seeped from your mouth, making it messy and noisy as the sound of your little gags filled the living room, “Oh, fuck yeah—take it all”

He began to fuck your mouth, pace picking up until he was roughly thrusting, eyes rolling back. You focused on ignoring your gag reflex until you suddenly felt a strong vibration in your cunt, immediately pulling away as you let out a cry. You had drool dripping down your chin, and your moans came out hoarse from his brutal thrusts, “Kuna'—too much!”

scoffing, he grabbed your head again, “keep going.”

you huffed, putting him back in your mouth when the vibrations increased again. you moaned around his cock, your head feeling empty as all you could do it suck on his tip haphazardly, pulling away to pant helplessly. you rested your head on his thigh, hand squeezing his length. “can’t do it, Ryo”

Your hips rut onto nothing, pathetically looking up at him as the toy brutally massaged your g-spot. You looked so angelic, messy with tears, spit, and precum all over you. Sukuna coo’d, hand reaching down to caress your cheek, “s’ too much?” You nodded, tongue lolling out as you began to feel the buildup of an orgasm, whining as your other hand gripped his. Your mind was going numb, sight getting splotchy.

Your hold on his hand tightened when your body began to squirm uncontrollably, a cry leaving your lips before your vision blacked out momentarily. You woke up feeling like you were in a puddle, Sukuna laughing as you looked down in confusion, “guess you weren’t lying, princess.”

You choked when you realized you had squirted on the floor, feeling embarrassed by just how easy he made overwhelming you. Before you could let the shame consume you, Ryomen was pulling you up and onto the couch. “Wanna try again?”

He tugged on the toy, playing with the different settings, until you became a babbling mess. He jerked his cock off lazily, getting off to the pleas of his name on repeat. his thumb reached down to play with your clit, your plush thighs immediately closing as your head shook back and forth, “n-no, hurts!” he pried your thighs open, spanking your cunt making you whine.

“Nuh uh, hold your legs open,” You struggle to follow his orders, shaky hands gripping your thighs to present yourself to him. He let a glob of spit fall out of his mouth and onto your already drenched pussy, spreading it with his fingers. He made you cum two times before he finally allowed himself to take out the tiny egg, throwing it carelessly across the room because now it was the least of his worries.

Leaning down, he kissed your swollen bud, a mewl escaping your lips when he brought it into his mouth and sucked. You swear he was making you see stars, Sukuna growled when he tasted your sweet nectar meet his awaiting tongue, hand reaching up to move your bra and pinch your nipple. The pleasure he gave you was immense, overstimulating not only your poor body but your mind. “s’kuna! wait—“

He shoved his fingers in your mouth, quieting your sobs as his cruel tongue played with your cunt. Everything he did was so vulgar, treating you like some whore, even letting little whispers of “my pretty slut” slip from his lips whenever you would buck into his mouth. “You wanna ride my face, pretty? that what you want?”

You shook your head, pulling away from his fingers, “Later—close l-like this!” Your words made him feel giddy, putting more emphasis into every movement of his tongue. later implied this would happen again and Sukuna was more than ecstatic to make this a tradition.

You let go of your thighs, your hands gripping his hair to push him closer. You were so close, practically tasting it. Two fingers slowly pushed into you, followed by another, scissoring you open and rubbing against that sensitive part of you that made your body heat up. You let out a wail, tugging on his hair harder when you felt yourself cum, basically riding his face until you went limp. The orgasm so strong you felt light-headed, ears ringing, barely noticing Sukuna pulling away to show off his wet grin.

He loved how fucked out you looked, barely conscious and twitching. Without thinking twice, he reached down and ripped the fabric that was semi-covering your chest. It took you a second to register what happened, looking down at how the lilac fabric was now in multiple pieces and frowned. “h-hiromi got me that..”

Sukuna nodded, rolling his eyes, “So?”

You couldn’t even argue with him, brain fuzzy and most of your short sentences came out slurred anyway. Sukuna took your silence as a win, leaning down to lick and suck at your tits, leaving hickies all over the surface. You hummed, mouth opening as you felt the tip of his cock tease your entrance, slowly pushing into you. Your shaky hand pushed against his stomach, “Ryo! t’s too big!”

but he just shook his head, moving to kiss you softly while his hand moved yours away to let him push in, lacing your fingers together by your head. It burned, the pain almost too much. However, Sukuna slowed his movement, letting his free hand go down to rub your clit. “It's okay, baby, jus’ lemme in..” He went back to kissing you, continuing to thrust into you until he bottomed out.

When he pulled away, he watched how your face contorted and your eyebrows furrowed together when you felt the double stimulation. When you began to babble, hips pushing into his, he started to thrust, picking up speed with every second. His hand still held yours, the moment feeling incredibly intimate.

He was losing his mind. Your tightness felt unlike the pocket pussy he used to fuck. No, this was completely different. He liked holding your hand, feeling you grip onto his with such need or maybe it was the way you gazed into his eyes like he was the only man on earth… Either way, there was a warm feeling in his stomach and a need to prove himself. His movements were smooth as he thrusted into your sore cunt, enjoying the squeals you let out when it got too much, ignoring how you begged him to slow down or you’d cum. He felt like he was on fire, sweat dripping from his brow. He wanted this all the time, seven days a week.

He wanted you.

“Oh, fuck—I'm gonna put a baby in you—you like that? want to make a little family?” He sounded arrogant, like he had already made the decision for you. and maybe it was because of how fucked out you were, but his words didn’t seem to bad..if anything, they made you squeeze him tighter and nod. “Yes! Please, Kuna! want it—so bad”

“oh yeah? gonna cream in this pretty pussy—fill you up nicely,” you agreed, legs locking around him. “Make you the prettiest mommy—oh fuck!” Skin on skin along with the soft ‘plap’ from your dripping cunt echoed in the room, so loud you would probably get noise complaints, but that didn’t matter.

All Sukuna could think about was breeding you, knowing that you would have to get rid of your little fuck buddies if he put a little spawn inside you. He could picture everything: the proposal, marriage, little children running around the house he’ll buy you two. And the best part: it’ll be free from Satoru.

He knew you were close when he felt your walls flutter, pleads getting higher before they got stuck in your throat as your eyes rolled back. He kept thrusting, working you through your orgasm before he finally released, pushing himself as deep as he could. He kissed you again, savoring the taste of your mouth and how, with every breath you let out, he sucked in.

He let you rest as he got up to clean. You would have offered to help if it wasn’t for your brain fog and limbs that felt like jelly. You can’t even remember how you got into your room—only the way he curled against you, placing delicate kisses all over your collarbone and neck, the sound of your giggles making his heart swell. He couldn’t help but watch you as you drifted off to sleep, hoping that in the morning you wouldn’t make an excuse for why this couldn’t go farther.

The thought made him anxious, preventing him from closing his eyes because, in truth, if this was the end, he wanted to prolong it. He took in every detail of your face, listening to the sound of your patterned breathing and the feeling of your soft skin in his hands. His eyes grew heavy eventually, closing before he had the chance to fight it.

You woke up sore the next morning, feeling a muscular arm wrapped tightly around you. You didn’t move, trying to plan out how to approach this situation. On one hand, the sex was amazing and you’ve wanted him for years. and on the other, this could easily be nothing and confessing that would be useless. You were beyond frustrated and had a slight migraine, but refused to disturb him by getting up and having to face the conversation prematurely.

So you waited.

Minutes passed like hours; the longer time went by, the more anxious you grew. This felt so different than your regular hookups—at least if things got complicated with one of them, you could just leave. but this was different. he’s different.

Sukuna slept quietly next to you, arm wrapped around you protectively. He shuffled slightly, signaling he was waking up. The realization made your heart beat faster, second guessing everything you'd prepared in your head until the sound of his raspy morning voice broke the silence, “Good morning…”

“Morning,” your reply was quick, your back still facing him. He hums in acknowledgment, body shifting closer to you to firmly mold against your back. he moves into the crock of your neck to inhale how sweet you smell before pressing soft kisses onto the skin, the feeling ticklish and would have been enjoyable if it wasn’t for your racing head. “sukuna?”

“mmhm?” He hums against your skin, sucking small markings onto the surface. You pull away to look at him, making sure to hold the blanket over your exposed chest, like it mattered. You had so much to say and yet didn’t know where to start.

at the feeling of you pushing away, his eyes open, curious as to why you created the distance (and mild irritation because he liked how you felt against him). The arm he had around you moved to hold up his head, eyebrows raising. he studies the look on your face, noticing the tenseness in your movements. “What’s on your mind, princess?”

You debated how to approach this, but you were truly stumped. You’ve had plenty of hookups, but this isn’t the same; you didn’t really care for them. “What did last night mean?”

He was silent for a moment before a smirk graced his lips, hand reaching out to brush a stand of hair away before making its way to delicately cup your chin. “So straightforward, huh?” He pulls you against him, arm wrapping around you to keep you flush against his chest. He watches you intently, looking for any reaction, “What do you want it to mean?”

You can’t deny it catches you off guard, your breath hitching in your throat before you shrug, “I don’t know... I guess if you just want it to be friendly—“

His jaw tightens for a moment before a scoff leaves his mouth. His hand travels to your hips, fingers gently tracing it before gripping the soft flesh, “You only see me as a friend?”

“no…”

Your response puts a sly grin on Ryo’s face. “Then why don’t we cut the bullshit,” He gets impossibly closer, lips brushing yours teasingly. “Because we both know we’re not friends…”

You can’t stop the stupid smile that takes over your face, “Does that mean that you’re my—“

He doesn’t let you finish that sentence, a possessive glint flickering in his eyes as he cuts you off. “I’m gonna stop you there, love…” pushing you to lay on your back while he leans down over you. he moves closer, his mouth hovering next to your ear, his warm breath fanning across your skin “…because I’m going to make it very clear who you belong to.”

a/n: and it’s done🙏 although this is the last in the series, i still have some drafts/asks that i may get to at some point but i wanted to give you guys some type of ending :) was gonna post this yesterday but didn’t like the original ending i had so i had to redo it. also, did y’all notice the jungkook easter egg👀

tags (ignore)

@smolbeanzzz @mwtsxri @call-memissbrightside @iluvjjkmennn @evieluka @celestep004 @ermatfhh @lenalondon985 @peregrine-nation @1dk-anym0r3 @noblogname-exe @theobsidianempress @silverserpentsofhogwarts @mr-mafias-wife @idkccdfnfz @thejujvtsupost @bbnbhm

[dirtyvulture]

The Maid

Socialite!Wanda Maximoff x Beefy!Rich!Reader*

Maid!Natasha Romanoff x Beefy!Rich!Reader*

18+ only, read at your own risk

Word count: 4663

Summary: You are married to a wealthy socialite, but your newly hired housemaid doesn’t approve of the marriage.

AN: I was reading a book series and got this idea. Enjoy!

*Reader has a penis, no pronouns used.

“I still don’t think it’s a good idea,” you say, poking at the sad bowl of cereal before you.

“Why not?” Your wife frowns at you from across the kitchen.

“Because we’re doing fine! We don’t need any extra help,” you emphasize.

“You’re not the one stuck at home all day cleaning the house and cooking all the meals,” she snaps. Your eyes shift to the bowl of cereal you’d had to make yourself because she was too busy at her pilates class to cook you anything more substantial. 

“This house is huge compared to our old one,” your wife continues. “And if you’re not going to help me around here, I’m going to hire someone who will.” Annoyance burns in your chest because you run your own company full-time, and your wife inherited all her wealth from her parents and hadn’t worked a real job in her entire life. “Besides, Steve’s the one who recommended her and he said she’s been really helpful to his family.”

“You seem to spend a lot of time talking to Steve,” you note, although you feel guilty for calling out your neighbor across the street. You’d spoken to him a few times and he seemed like a decent guy, but you weren’t stupid enough to not notice how often your wife would find her way over to his lawn multiple times a week.

“You’re at work all day and don’t answer your phone half the time,” she says. “You don’t expect me to stay in this gigantic house all by myself doing chores, do you? I’m not a house servant, Y/N.”

“No, of course you’re not,” you apologize. You glance at the Omega watch that had been an engagement gift from your wife. “Hey, I have to get going to work now.” Dutifully, you bring your bowl over to the sink and stop to kiss your wife on the way there. “I’ll see you later, honey.”

“Remember, the pool guy is coming at noon so you need to be back before then,” she says. “I don’t want to be left by myself with him.”

“Okay, I’ll try.” You’re not sure why she’s so nervous around the pool technician; he was about 30 years older than the both of you and had been very sweet and professional when he came to give you a quote for the maintenance.  

“No, don’t try. Do it,” she insists.

You try to hold in your sigh. “Yes, dear.”

***********************************************************************

Natasha curses to herself as she drags her vacuum cleaner and basket of cleaning supplies up the sidewalk to your home. Your wife–Mrs. L/N, as she had asked Natasha to call her, while you had no problem being on a first name basis with her–had told Natasha she didn’t want her parking in front of your house, requiring her to park around the corner. Which wouldn’t have been a significant issue except it meant Natasha had to lug everything to your house every time she stopped by.

“Do you need any help, Nat?” Steve Rogers, the friendly neighbor whom she also worked for, waved at her from across the street.

“No, no, I’m fine!” she squeaks, not wanting to bother him. But Steve, ever the gentleman, runs over anyway and she has no choice but to turn over her supplies to him. 

“You know, you can always just park in front of my house,” he offers, bundling the items in his muscular arms.

“That’s okay,” Natasha says. “Mrs. L/N made it very clear that as much as she needs my help, she doesn’t want people to know I’m here.”

Steve doesn’t argue with her and walks her to your front door. “Well, if you ever need anything–”

“Natasha! You’re late!” The front door swings open and Natasha finds herself face-to-face with your wife. “Oh, hello, Steven.” She flips her hair over her shoulder and bats her eyelashes at him. “Didn’t expect to see you here.” 

“I was just helping Natasha with her things,” Steve explains.

“Oh, don’t worry about her. She can handle herself. Right, Natasha?” She turns a judgmental eye on Natasha.

“I appreciate the help, Steve,” is all Natasha says.

“You’re welcome. See you both later!” He quickly jogs back to his home. 

Mrs. L/N ushers Natasha into the house. “I left a grocery list on the kitchen counter for you. If you can’t find something, please call me before you pick any substitutions,” she instructs briskly. “I have to go out to the HOA meeting, but Y/N should be home by noon before the pool man comes. Do not let him into the yard if Y/N or me are not home yet, understand?”

“Yes, ma’am.” Natasha nods her head, fighting the urge not to roll her eyes at this lady.

“Good.” She leaves towards the garage and Natasha can hear the purr of her Mercedes starting up.

It was Natasha’s second week working for your family, and she hated nearly every second of it–mostly because of your spoiled, bratty wife. But the few times Natasha had met you, she thought you were as kind and charming as could be (and very nice to look at). She wondered how the two of you had gotten together in the first place and what you saw in your wife. She was one of the bossiest clients Natasha had ever had, and Natasha had seen her be not much nicer to you. Plus, she was definitely hitting on Steve, but Natasha knows he wouldn’t cheat on his wife with yours.

She dumps her supplies in the foyer, then goes into the kitchen to find the grocery list. It only takes a single glance to know that your wife is totally fucking with her–what the hell is a rambutan? Natasha sighs loudly, wishing there were someone around to hear her distress. As much as she wants to quit working for your family, she needs the money. And she was still so new to the business, she couldn’t afford to make any bad impressions. 

With another sigh, she balls the grocery list into her fist and heads back out.

***********************************************************************

Natasha returns from her grocery trip just in time to see you pull into the garage in your bright green luxury sports car she doesn’t even recognize the manufacturer’s logo of. You get out and wave to her and she smiles back, almost forgetting the awful phone call she had to make to your wife when she searched the entire store and still couldn’t locate the rambutans (she ended up having to make a separate trip to Whole Foods for them). 

“Hi, Natasha!” you say, running down the driveway to help her with the grocery bags.

“Oh, don’t worry about these,” Natasha says, trying to swat your hands away. “It’s my job to take them into the house–”

“No, let me help,” you insist, scooping up four bags in one hand in one go. “Oh! Rambutans. These are my favorite. Thank you for finding them.” 

Instantly, Natasha wants to take back all the curses she had put on the spiky red fruit. “It was nothing,” she lies, making a mental note to buy out the store’s entire stock for you the next time she goes.

With your help, it takes half the amount of time to get all the groceries in the house. You also insist on helping her put everything away, showing her the proper drawers in the fridge for the fruit and vegetables versus the meat, and where the cereals went in the pantry. Natasha is beyond grateful for you; she knows your wife would have happily stood there and watched her struggle, then loudly criticized her for not knowing better.

“Thank you, Y/N,” she says, her hand inadvertently brushing yours when you pass her the last bag of apples. She withdraws from you almost too quickly, her skin hot where you touched her, but you don’t seem to notice, distracted by the ringing of the doorbell. 

“That must be Stan.” You dash off to meet the pool man. 

Natasha fills the dishwasher as much as she can and starts in, then goes to finish washing the oddly-shaped pots and pans that didn’t fit in the sink. The kitchen window looks out to your yard that is probably bigger than the footprint of her entire apartment complex. The pool has two different levels, but both are filled with a suspicious green water. You’re standing poolside talking to Stan, an older gentleman whom Natasha personally knew to be very kind from her few interactions with him when he conducted work on the neighborhood pool’s. 

She’s so busy looking at you, fantasizing about a life where this big house could be hers, with a doting partner who would take care of her and raise a family with her, she doesn’t hear the front door opening until she hears the unholy screech from your wife.

“Natasha, what are you doing?” she yells, hurrying over and snatching the soapy sponge right out of Natasha’s gloved hand.

“Um–the dishes? They didn’t all fit in the dishwasher–”

“You turned on the dishwasher?” Her eyes grow wide and her mouth drops like Natasha’s just confessed to a murder. “Didn’t I tell you we don’t run the dishwasher before seven p.m.?” Natasha is certain she’s never heard this instruction before in her life and watches as she rushes over to turn off the dishwasher mid-cycle and throw it open. “Also, you didn’t pack this correctly, you definitely could’ve fit those pots in here.”

“I’m sorry, I’ll rearrange it now,” Natasha says, trying not to get flustered. Surely your wife wouldn’t fire her over such a minor transgression, would she?

“Is Stan here yet?” she asks, but before Natasha can answer, she is interrupted by a shout and a splash. Both of them crane their necks to look out the window, where they can see Stan floating facedown in the pool. You’re kicking your shoes off and throwing your phone onto the lawn before you run up to the pool’s edge and dive in with a form that would rival an Olympic swimmer’s. Your wife screams and darts towards the back door, Natasha following right behind her.

“Y/N! What are you doing?”

“He fell in!” you answer, coughing out water as you loop your arms under the elderly man and kick back towards the stairs. “He just zoned out when he was talking to me and suddenly tipped over into the pool. I think he’s having a seizure.”

“I’ll call 911!” Natasha offers, not wanting to be as useless as your wife. She struggles to get her phone out of her pocket and punches in the number with shaky fingers.

Your wife hovers by the pool stairs, making no move to assist you as you struggle to drag the old man out, clearly weighed down by the water drenching both of your clothes. Stan is holding himself in a position so stiff it reminds Natasha of a mannequin. 

“Ugh, don’t get me wet, Y/N!” your wife complains as the brackish water sprays everywhere.

“I’m trying not to!” you snap, gently laying Stan on the grass.  

“Nine-one-one, what is your emergency?” a dispatcher picks up.

“Hello? Yes, I’m at 2800 Sherwood Drive. There’s a man here who fell into the pool and we just got him out, but he’s having some kind of medical episode,” Natasha says, putting her phone on speaker. The dispatcher asks if he’s breathing and you confirm. 

“Can roll him to his side and stabilize his head?”

Without hesitation, you peel off your shirt and roll it into a soggy ball, gently tucking it under the man’s head like a makeshift pillow. Natasha tries not to stare at your nicely sculpted torso, highlighted further by the water droplets on your skin, but her face burns in shame when she sees your wife glaring at her ogling.

“Okay, his head is stabilized!” you call out.

“Perfect, emergency services are two minutes away.”

“Thank you.”

It’s a big scene at the house by the time the ambulance pulls up. Your wife eventually covers you up with a towel, but you’re insistent on waiting outside for Stan to be carefully loaded into the ambulance before you finally allow your wife to usher you back into the house, still dripping water everywhere.

“Thank you for the help today, Natasha,” you say, reaching out to give her shoulder a gentle pat as you walk by her towards the house. Natasha doesn’t even know how to respond but nods furiously and mumbles that “she didn’t help much.”

“You can go now, Natasha,” your wife says curtly, and Natasha doesn’t question her and practically flees the premise.

***********************************************************************

It’s been a few weeks since the pool incident and Natasha is barely able to hold onto her sanity with the never-ending list of ridiculous tasks from your wife. When she holds a fundraiser meeting for a charity Natasha is sure she made up on her own, she calls on Natasha as her personal servant, forcing her to serve a collection of the snobbiest women in the neighborhood. Maybe I should take up meditation, Natasha thinks to herself as she prepares a third pitcher of iced tea because the first two “did not have the right balance of sugar to tea,” according to your wife, despite that Natasha had put in exactly one-third cup of sugar as requested.

Natasha doesn’t see you much around the house anymore, and she wonders if your wife purposely scheduled her around your work hours, or told you to stay away from her. She wants to ask you if there were any updates about Stan’s condition (there was no way she was going to get that information from your wife). She missed hearing your voice and seeing your smile…wait.

She shakes her head–she shouldn’t be thinking about you like that. You’re her employer and you’re married (to a bitch). It would be entirely inappropriate and dangerous to pursue you, so she would just have to make do with ogling you from afar. Besides, a lot of her clients did not show her respect, likely due to the nature of her job, so just because you were courteous and respectful towards her, didn’t mean you felt a specific way about her.

“You know, Y/N used to be fat.” Natasha startles when your wife walks up behind her. She almost drops the picture frame she’d been dusting of the two of you on a beach, holding hands as you walked towards the sunset in the background.

“Excuse me?” Natasha asks. 

“Fat and poor,” Mrs. L/N adds, much to Natasha’s horror. 

“That’s an awful thing to say about your partner,” Natasha says.

She shrugs. “I don’t want anything to be sugarcoated for you. All of this–” She gestures around to the grandiose-ness of the house, and points to a more recent photo of you, where you’re carrying your wife in your arms, the bulge of your biceps and wideness of your shoulders stretching out your shirt. “–was not a thing when we first started dating. I was there when Y/N had nothing and was no one.”

“Okay.” Natasha wonders why she’s acting like she did you a favor, when you are clearly the catch in the relationship. But then it suddenly dawns on her the reason she’s saying this is because she knows Natasha might have a small crush on you.

“Y/N would never leave me, because I was there from the beginning,” Mrs. L/N says loftily.

“Of course,” Natasha says, fearing she has made a terrible mistake. “Y/N must be very lucky to have you.”

“You have no idea,” your wife smirks. “So let me be a reminder to keep things professional in my house. I’d hate for you to lose your job here. As far as I know, this is the only neighborhood that employs you, and your reputation is everything, isn’t it? One bad review could spoil the whole bunch, and you’d be off having to peddle your services elsewhere.” Icy fear pits at the bottom of Natasha’s stomach. “That is, if the police don’t pick you up first.”

“What are you talking about?” Natasha whispers, even though she knows exactly what Mrs. L/N is talking about. She had been foolish to assume her past would never follow her, but how could your wife have found out? Clint had assured her that with a new name and a new location, she’d be untraceable. 

“Because they’d have to arrest you from stealing Y/N away from me,” Mrs. L/N laughs shrilly. Natasha chuckles nervously, although she was certain adultery was not a punishable offense in the state. “But I’m just joking. That would never happen, right?”

“Never,” Natasha promises, hoping her cover will stay hidden for now. 

“Good.”

***********************************************************************

“How was your day at work, honey?”

“Busy,” you grunt, moodily poking at the chicken pot pie Natasha had made before she went home. The food tastes good–it’s better than anything your wife has ever cooked, you think privately, but you don’t have much of an appetite. The end of the financial quarter was rapidly approaching and it had become extremely apparent to you that the profits of your company were not outweighing the expenses for the third quarter in a row. You were digging yourself a bigger and bigger grave, dipping into your personal investments to pay your way out of debt. It was the most stressful period of your life, with no relief in sight, and your wife wouldn’t understand the pressure.

“Sorry to hear that,” she says, although her words don’t come across as very genuine. “My day wasn’t so great either. I got into an argument earlier with Mrs. Harkness at the HOA meeting.” Your wife clicks her tongue. “Some of these women will go to war over their lawn decorations, I swear.”

A jab bubbles on the tip of your tongue; was she really trying to compare an HOA meeting to your very real, very stressful job running a business? But you stay quiet, shoveling another spoonful of pot pie into your mouth.

“Where’s Natasha?” you ask. Usually she stayed around for dinner (not that your wife would let her sit at the same table as you), but you hadn’t seen her in the house for a while.

“I ran out of time today, so I sent her out to grab some things for tomorrow,” she answers. When Natasha had first been hired, you had been under the impression that she was exclusively a housekeeper, helping with all the household chores your wife couldn’t complete. But you had heard about her running grocery trips and waiting on your wife and her friends during meetings, turning Natasha into more of a personal assistant than anything. You hoped she was okay with that; you knew how demanding your wife could be sometimes.

“Oh, okay.” You finish your helping of pot pie in silence, then go to place your plate in the dishwasher, before going into the bedroom to retire for the night. As you’re washing your face in the sink, you hear your wife pad up behind her.

“Sorry you’ve been really stressed lately,” she says, rubbing her hand up and down your arm. 

“It’s not your fault,” you respond, drying your face on a towel, going back into the bedroom to find your pajamas so you can take a shower.

“Y/N.” Your wife stops you as you’re searching through the dresser for your pajamas. When you look at her, she’s eyeing you with her bottom lip between her teeth. She struts towards you, slowly sinking to her knees and looking up at you. “Maybe I can do something to make you feel better?” 

With you being so busy with work and her busy with the new move, the two of you hardly had time for each other. Plus, your wife tended to be on the particular side and never seemed to be in the mood if you initiated. It was a little frustrating sometimes, but you found ways to cope and besides, it did make the times she was ready for you all the more enjoyable.

She pulls down your pants, palming at your boxers and causing you to groan. You unbutton your shirt as you feel your body start to heat up and let it slide off your shoulders. 

“Fuck, don’t tease me,” you grunt when she leans forward and nibbles on the exposed flesh of your thigh. 

“You need to savor the moment,” she says, although you can tell she’s just as impatient when she hooks her fingers into the waistband of your boxers and draws them down to the floor. Your heavy cock bobs out, slapping against your abs before your wife grabs onto it and brings it to her mouth. 

“Fuck, baby,” you moan, tipping your head back when you feel her lips wrap around your cock. You wrap your hand in her hair, pumping your hips forward to sink your length into the heat of her throat. She grips onto your thighs to steady herself, the faintest of choking noise escaping her. You grunt in satisfaction, thrusting a little harder until the tip of your cock bumps the back of her throat. She whines louder, but doesn’t pull away, and your knees are practically shaking at the sight of her deepthroating all of you.  

“You’re doing so well,” you praise and her cheeks flush red. “Are you gonna let me finish in your mouth?” you ask, and she nods in response, the movement causing a burst of pre-cum to leak out of your cock. You stroke a stray hair out of her face so you can look into her eyes when you finish. “That’s my good girl.”

***********************************************************************

Natasha lets herself into your home, juggling three heavy bags that she’s pretty sure are cutting off the circulation to her fingers. She passes by the kitchen, confused to see it empty; when she had left the two of you were just settling down to eat. She puts the bags by the foot of the table, recalling the time Mrs. L/N had screamed at her for putting “dirty outside bags” on the place where you ate. She wouldn’t make that same mistake again.

Checking her phone, Natasha sees that your wife had sent her a text less than five minutes ago.

Natasha sighs. It had already been a long day, but she wasn’t given an ounce of leeway. She knows better than to walk away from an unfinished task (especially around your wife), so she trudges up the stairs and turns into the guest room. Hopefully her presence can go unnoticed, and your wife will magically find the folded clothes long after Natasha is gone. 

There are a total of three shirts and a pair of jeans left to fold. Natasha knows it would be too much to ask your wife to do on her own. She grits her teeth and folds the clothes, taking the better part of a minute, then looks around and realizes she doesn’t remember where she put the laundry basket. 

Maybe she had already brought it to the master bedroom, but she knew she couldn’t just leave it on the guest bed, or your wife would probably fire her. Natasha gathers up the clothes and walks down the hall to the master bedroom, but freezes in her tracks when she hears noises coming out of the bedroom.

Moaning noises, specifically.

Natasha can’t stop herself as she moves closer to the door, positioning herself to peer through the crack in between the door and the wall. She sees your wife on her knees, her head bobbing against your waist as you stand there, half-naked, moaning and thrusting your hips forward.

Natasha feels like she can’t breathe, totally shocked and embarrassed to have caught the two of you in a moment. She has a strange sense that your wife had set her up like this on purpose, but the thought quickly dissipates as she finds herself moving closer to the door.

“That’s my good girl.”

Natasha’s stomach flips when she hears you say this, even though it isn’t directed to her. But maybe one day it could be. 

She’s practically pressed up against the door, the fear of being caught burning away in her eagerness to keep watching you. The way the muscles in your stomach and thighs flex as your hips roll in a sinful rhythm. Natasha is almost ashamed at how fast she feels the arousal building in her own stomach.

You grunt louder and slow down as you seem to near release. Natasha can’t help but wonder what you must taste like and if she could even fit you down her throat. Your wife seems to be struggling with your size, but Natasha would do everything in her power to make you happy and not let any drop go to waste.

Without warning, your wife removes you from her mouth. Both you and Natasha gasp–you probably in frustration, and Natasha because she’s shocked at how big you are. Your cock is shiny with saliva and pre-cum and is so hard it looks like it’s about to burst.

“I didn’t finish,” you whine as your wife stands up, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. She puts her hand on your chest and pushes you back until you stumble onto the bed.

“I know. But I don’t want you to finish in my mouth, I want you to finish inside me.”

“Oh.” Your wife takes off her pants and climbs onto you.

Natasha knows how wrong it is for her to stand there and continue watching. She should’ve left a long time ago. But somehow, she knows your wife set her up to see this, and instead of running away in shame, Natasha is totally absorbed and her obsession with you only skyrockets. 

The headboard creaks against the wall as your wife rides you, both of you moaning in unison. Natasha’s eyes are stuck on you, trying to memorize your body’s reactions and wondering if she’d ever be the cause of them one day. You tilt your head back into the pillows, your back arching off the mattress, your hands wrapped around your wife’s waist as you thrust up into her. 

“I’m ready. I’m gonna cum,” you announce breathlessly.

Natasha hopes you’ll say those words to her one day. But she turns away as you finish, scolding herself for her unprofessional and frankly creepy behavior. She drops the folded clothes to the floor, knowing your wife will eventually find them and know of their origin. Maybe she’ll get fired for this; if anything, it’d be for the better. She doesn’t trust herself to be around you anymore–not that she’d ever be so bold as to make a move and disrespect your marriage, but she’d never be able to look at you the same way again.

She quickly pads down the stairs and leaves the house, the emptiness in her heart and core almost reaching a painful point.

***********************************************************************

You jerk your hips up a final time as you cum, dropping back onto the bed exhausted and spent. 

“Hmm, that was fun,” your wife pants against your neck, and you wrap your arm around her tightly, pulling her closer to your body. 

“We can shower together?” you suggest, digging your fingers teasingly into her naked hips. 

“Sure. Give me a minute.” She lays her head on your chest.

Despite your differences, you were truly happy to have this woman by your side through it all. She had been your longest supporter and that had meant everything to you when no one else believed in you.

You kiss her forehead softly. “I love you, Wanda.”

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

AN: Actually screaming and crying. Nat please come save us 😭

To be continued?

@holiday-house-of-m I finally kept my promise to you after 84 years.

Please like, reblog, and comment! Follow for more content. 🥰

[halfgirl-halfdolll]

Extremely self-indulgent. For the neurodivergent girlies. English isn't my first language, so my apologies for any mistake. I also have no idea how to write a Scottish accent 🧘🏻‍♀️ bear with me

You knocked on the dark hardwood door as you've had done plenty of times before.

It has been almost six months since you've signed that contract. That one, the one where you forfeited 4 years of your life in exchange for stable wages and proper housing.

For someone with no life, no family and no friends (besides the online weirdos you'd talk to from time to time), that was kinda good, if you could say so yourself.

You had stability, even though it came with the cost of being tied down to a military base chock-full of people who didn't really understand you.

That was fine though. THAT, you were used to. It comes with the neurodivergence: the side eyes, the whispers and the isolation.

What you weren't used to, however, was how your heart would race like a rabbit on a run for its life whenever you knocked on that one door. And you had to knock on it quite a lot of times.

You rapped your knuckles against the hardwood once more when you got no reply, cracking the door open just a little bit to peek inside.

"Cap?" You said, voice almost a whisper. After a few seconds, you heard an answer.

"Come in, love. Didn't know it was you." A strong, booming voice came from inside and you swallowed the lump on your throat that always formed whenever you had to go to Price's office.

Not because you were afraid of him, no. On the contrary. Maybe Price and the rest of the task force were the only ones who didn't treat you like an aberration – probably because they were aberrations of their own merit.

Maybe it was stupid of you to get giddy over being treated well by some of your coworkers, but when the bare minimum was so rare, you latched onto it like a dog with a bone.

And in spite of yourself, you couldn't control your own heart. It would be racing like a schoolgirl with a crush whenever you went to visit any of the men from the task force. You gave up on trying to tame it.

"Hi Cap" you said, with a small smile, approaching his desk. On the corner of your eyes, you saw the other three burly men that made up 141 and waved.

"Hey, lass, good ta see ya!" Soap hollered, voice loud as ever. You could probably feel it vibrating inside your bones if he spoke for a little longer and you loved it; as much as you envied it. What wouldn't you do to be just a little bit outgoing like that? Maybe things would be just a tad easier.

"How can I help my favorite secretary?" Price asked, the corner of his eyes wrinkling as he smiled, crow's feet getting a lot more pronounced in a way you probably thought of more than you should.

You scoffed, rolling your eyes.

"I'm your only secretary."

"Doesn't make my statement any less true."

You shook your head and placed a manila folder in front of him.

"I need your autograph, Cap."

"What for?"

"Because I'm your biggest fan and I wanna put it on my refrigerator...?" You answered humorously, and Price raised an eyebrow. You sighed. "We need to authorize the training of a few new recruits and they need your approval. So I need you to sign it."

Price huffed out a low chuckle and began leafing through the needlessly thick document. You poked your finger into the folder, fishing out the last pages, and walked towards the other men sitting on the other side of the office.

"I like today's dress, love." Gaz was manspreading on one of Price's armchairs, head resting on his palm as he gave you an once over. If it were anyone else, you'd probably hate the way you were being perceived – it usually made you feel like a bug being watched through a magnifying glass. But under his gaze, you just felt like a doll being admired.

"Do you, now? It's one of my favorites." You bowed dramatically while holding the hem of the dress. It was just another one of the black frilly dresses that you wore like a signature. It flew around you as you spun on your feet to show the black ribbon on the back.

"Adorable as always. If I wasn't selfish, I would say it's wasted inside this base, but I like to have you around way too much." His eyes gleamed with mirth and, in any other situation, you'd think he was secretly mocking you – but not Kyle. Not any one of them. You knew the compliments were genuine, even if they didn't understand why you insisted on sticking out like a sore thumb when it brought you so many problems.

You knew they would never really understand how masking could hurt you, but you were grateful they still defended your decision on just being yourself.

"Look at tha' key on yer neck." Soap pointed at your necklace. "I ken what's tha' for. It's the key to my heart, aye?" He said with an exaggerated wink and a smile that could blind you.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever you say." You rolled your eyes, smiling, and pushed a paper into his hand and did the same with Gaz and Ghost.

"I need your autographs as well. You heard my explanation already."

" 'm not built for a life of fame, love." Simon grunted, shifting on his seat right beside Soap.

"Too late, the spotlight already found you. Now you gotta give me your autograph or I'm gonna cancel you on social media."

He huffed.

"Don't ya think I should have been canceled a long time ago?"

"Probably." You shrugged, and handed him a pen. "I like my favorites problematic, what can I say."

Soap barked out a laugh, mindlessly scanning the document and Ghost merely shook his head.

"Do I gotta sign this? Don't really feel like training new runts." The masked man muttered and you shrugged.

"Don't shoot the messenger. I don't really want new young men around me either." You walked back towards Price's desk after collecting the documents and placed them neatly inside the folder after he was done surveying every single fine print.

"What do you guys want for lunch?" You asked as you tucked the documents under your arm. Price clicked his tongue.

"You don't have to keep bothering with making food for us, love. We can all eat at the canteen like everyone else." The older man leaned back on his chair, folding his arms.

You looked to the side, with a small pout on your lips.

"But if I make you guys' lunch, then I can emotionally blackmail you into eating with me at the kitchen." You mumbled, avoiding any and all eye contact.

"So it was all a ploy to keep us nearby? I thought you were doing that because you liked us. I'm so hurt, dear." Kyle spoke up from his seat, a dramatic hand over his chest as he leaned his head back. You put a hand over your mouth, hiding your grin.

"Maybe I'm just learning a thing or two from hanging around tacticians?"

"Aw, Captain, come on. How can we leave the poor doll hangin'? And we get ta eat actually good food, not that canteen slop! Come on!"

Price sighed, shaking his head in defeat.

"Anything you make will be great, love."

"As long as it has proteins and carbs." Ghost added from his seat and you snickered. He had already seen you eating your comfort foods before and, needless to say, he didn't approve of them.

"As long as it has proteins and carbs." Price repeated, with a nod.

"Proteins and carbs, okay, got it." You said with a fierce nod, walking back towards the door to the older man's office. "Meet you guys at the kitchen?"

"1200, sharp." Price said, with eyes as soft as the smile under his moustache. You gave him a small salute on your way out.

"Yessir."

This will probably be a little anthology of scenes I think of, involving poly!141 x neurodivergent reader who works for them as a secretary. They might not have much continuity but I'm using this as a self-healing, self-indulgent blog, separated from my main. Expect mostly fluff and angst from me.

[diejager]

it's always girl dad König or girl dad Simon but girl dad Makarov whose little princess gets away with everything

Cw: mention of assassination, protective behaviour, father!Makarov, tell me if I missed any. nnote: every dialogue in italic is spoken in Russian.

“- could provide you with-” 

“Papa, ” you poked your head through his office room’s door after giving it three light knocks.

You knew your dad was in his office, a worker of the house had told you where he was after you asked her, the old lady’s face wrinkling up with her gentle, saying that she saw a Bolivian man escorted to his office, but didn’t know if he left or not. Wanting to try your luck, you crossed the mansion to get to his office, built on the left side of the house, while your bedrooms and study rooms were on the other end of the mansion. He liked to separate his work life and his life with you, for better protection and keep your from knowing the dangers of life —or so he says. 

A man sat across him, the bald head of the Bolivian man Old Baba mentioned, wearing a suit sewed in fine looking silk, of rich and luxury that even your father never wore around so carelessly. It would catch people’s attention, right or wrong, he didn’t need any of that, he would rather wear the same black and white attire, clean and normal enough to be unnoticeable by the mass. The dichotomy between the fat man and your father was laughable, a scene you’d only see in your comedy novels or a movie. Your abrupt entrance had cut the man’s proposition in half, turning both their attention towards the door where you blinked owlishly, partly in guilt for barging into his meeting and in shock at the bald man’s heavy perspiration. 

“Sorry, I didn’t know you were still talking,” you bowed your head, ready to excuse yourself for barging in, “I’ll come back later, papa.”

“It’s fine,” Makarov waved his hand, nodding his head to let you know he wasn’t mad, your father would never be mad at you, you listened so well and never fought him on anything. You were a gem in his eyes, something precious and untouchable to all but him, “I’ll have someone call you when I’m done.”

When you closed the door, Makarov’s attention turned back to his potential - well, past potential - ally, his eyes darkening after he caught the man whispering something horrid about your interruption. His business was yours as much as it was his, you might’ve been kept in the dark at most time, but you knew enough to know he was a dangerous man. He kept you sheltered, but not naive.

And after half-heartedly listening to what the man had to provide, Makarov dismissed him, giving him a cold apology about those needs being fulfilled by a prior contractor, someone who already provided him with the material he proposed. He didn’t need a rich pig that stupidly flaunted is money, it would attract to many eyes and he didn’t need that if he wanted to reach his goal and build a better world for you. 

He flicked his wrist, opening his phone and mindlessly dialling a number, pressing the screen to his ear as he watched the man amble down the stairs, struggling to make his way to the car he had a chauffeur waiting for him. The person on the other side picked his call within seconds, a cool and monotone voice ready to receive his order from Makarov, the unbothered tone at his fury, a personal and petty thing that clawed at his mind. 

“Make it known that I will have no one disrespect my daughter.”

“Yes, sir.”

Taglist: @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @bvxygriimes @distracteddragoness @konigsblog @im-making-an-effort @daisychainsinknots @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @danielle143 @tuttifuckinfruttifriday @notspiders @brokenpieces-72 @petwifed @randominstake @cassiecasluciluce @hayleybarnesx @shironasumi @sparky--bunny @bloobewy @infpt-zylith @sweetnanah @aldis-nuts @evolutionarry @kaoyamamegami

[lordprettyflackotara]

easy silence || sam golbach

smut minors dni 18+. this is the fluffiest shit i can produce guys sorry

You were the best thing in Sam’s life.

He glanced down at you sleeping, your eyes fluttered shut and chest rising and falling slowly. You were curled up against his chest, ever so often nuzzling your face against his bare skin. His arm was securely wrapped around you, holding you as you blissfully danced in dreamland. Sam brushed some stray hairs out of your face, listening to the slow and even breaths you took.

In a world full of chaos, particularly one that Sam lived as a content creator, you seemed to be his peace. He found refuge when he was with you. You were a normal girl, one that opted to stay out of the spotlight. Your identity was hidden, your desire for clout and fame nonexistent. You stayed behind the camera, giggling ever so often at one of the boys jokes. You adored Sam for what he truly was, a young man with aspirations and wild adventures. You even got along with Colby, who you also took care of. It wasn’t a question with you as to whether or not you could handle his friendship with him. When you cooked, you always cooked for the three of you without a second thought. You always asked how Colby was. When both him and Colby were sick you took care of them both without question.

You created easy silence in a life full of overstimulating constant noise.

Sam pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, admiring your beauty. You stirred ever so slightly, your eyes slowly blinking open. “Hi Sammy,” You greeted, your throat dry. Sam felt bad, having woken you up. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you,” He apologized. You gave him a sleepy smile, shaking your head. “Relax, you know I always sleep in. It’s probably noon by now anyways right?” You asked. The two of you were in a hotel near the Lizzie Borden house, the boys investigating it until dawn the night prior. You were their enthusiastic cameraman, who passed out from exhaustion the moment you both returned to your hotel room. Sam struggled with consistent sleep, his mind always running a mile an hour. Somehow sleeping beside you made it easier, but he always woke up first out of habit.

Sam grabbed his phone, checking the time. You playfully hissed at the brightness, hiding your face in his chest. “It’s about 1:30,” Sam concluded, tossing his phone aside. You re-emerged from hiding, yawning. “Sounds about right, you shower yet?” You hummed. Sam shook his head, running his fingers through his hair. His morning had already been stressful, twitter having a field day with attempting to cancel him for the prices of his and Colby’s merch. “Hey stop it, you’re overthinking again,” You say, poking at him. You’d been with Sam so long you knew his facial expressions to a T. His eyebrows would furrow and eyes would harden whenever he was deep in thought. To anyone else he looked concentrated, but you knew he was spiraling on the inside. “Sorry,” He mumbled. You threw the covers off of the both of you, grabbing his hand. “Cmere, let me take care of you,” You said, delivering a small smile. Who was Sam to deny that?

He followed after you, the cool hotel AC making him shiver. You turned on the shower, tossing your oversized shirt over your head. Sam was mesmerized as he watched you undress, shrugging your panties down your thighs before discarding them on the floor. He could feel his cheeks turning a tint of pink. Somehow the sight of you doing the most mundane things always made him giddy inside. You stepped into the shower, soaking in the warmth as Sam undressed himself. He followed in behind you, his hands finding your waist with ease. You turned around to face him, smiling at the sight of his eagerness to kiss you. It was always like this with you, so relaxed and happy. Temporarily all of Sam’s stress was subsided, his full attention on you. His lips met yours with a passion, your lips eager to keep up with his.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, the warm water sliding down the two of you as you entangled in one another. You didn’t know if you could ever get enough of this. Sam snaked his hand down to your folds, opening his eyes to admire you. “Open your legs for me,” He mumbled lowly. The submission in your eyes sparked, your thighs spreading apart at his very word. He rubbed slow circles around your clit, bringing his lips back to yours. Playfully he nibbled at your lower lip, chuckling as you whimpered, Your core was throbbing with desire, Sam knowing all of your sweet spots without even trying. Your noises became louder and less controlled, causing you to pull away from his lips. “Cmon baby, be loud for me. I know you want to,” He encouraged. Your eyes screwed shut, your forehead leaning against his and you bucked your hips against his hand desperately. Sam took the hint, dipping two fingers into your eager cunt. You moaned his name, allowing the blonde to push you against the tiled wall for support.

He curled his fingers inside of you, your gummy walls clinging to him desperately. He tilted your head to the side, nibbling at your ear lobe. “There we go, such a good girl for me,” Sam praised, his breath hot against your ear. You grabbed his wrist as he mercilessly finger fucked you, abusing your g spot as he pleased. “Aweee what’s wrong? Can’t handle it?” Sam asked teasingly, water droplets falling in his face from his soaking wet hair. You loved when he did this. You loved when he teased and mocked you, your walls telling you everything he needed to know. “If you can’t handle my fingers, how are you gonna handle my cock?” He asked, licking his lips. He watched your nipples harden, looking down to watch you grind on his hand. You could feel yourself getting closer to the edge, the delicious euphoria you craved coming closer and closer. “Sammy it feels so good,” You whined. Sam used his spare hand to grab your chin, causing your soft eyes to flutter open.

“Look at me baby. Look at me as you cum for me,” He ordered. Your lips were parted, the blonde taking the opportunity to slide his thumb into your mouth. You began to suck on it, the action causing Sam’s cock to grow hard. You cursed as you released on his fingers, your walls spasming and thoughts incoherent as you let go. Your vision went white, your heart pounding as Sam slipped out his fingers. He brought his lips back to yours, your lips meeting his in a dazed state. “I’m sorry you’re just so beautiful, I could kiss you for the rest of time,” He confessed. You felt heat rash across your cheeks, the warm water not helping. “Sammy…” You say, your voice trailing off. Sam brushed your hair over your shoulder, swallowing. “I’m serious. You make everything feel so easy, I mean, fuck, I love you,” Sam rambled. You gave him a toothy grin, kissing him deeply. “I love you too,” You panted, briefly pulling away from him. His eyes met yours curiously.

“Sam?”

“Yeah?”

“Can you please fuck me now?”

You giggled at the blunt question, causing Sam to chuckle. “Oh does my little whore wanna be fucked now? I see,” He mused. In a swift motion he picked you up by your thighs, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist. He rubbed his shaft up and down your slick, watching you whimper as his tip brushed against your clit. It was then Sam pushed inside of your entrance, your head tilting back as he bottomed out inside of you. You both took a moment, your walls adjusting to his girth while he focused on not cumming right then and there. You were perfect in every way. You and your cunt. You always milked him so perfectly, so much so it took Sam lots of training to not cum quick. You were blissfully unaware of this, that being Sam’s only secret. “Feel good?” He asked. You melted under his touch, his hips beginning to move. You groaned in agreement, his large hands grabbing your waist.

He firmly held you into place, picking up the pace and fucking you into the wall. His thrust were slow and hard, the blonde in front of you wanting you to feel every inch of him during every second. Sam bit his bottom lip, both of you watching your cunt eagerly swallow his cock. “Fuck, Sammy,” You whined, gripping onto his shoulders for support. The blonde began to fuck you faster, determined to make your body tremble beneath his. The shower water was beginning to run cold, neither of you seeming to notice as Sam fucked you. “Thats it, you can take it,” He grunted. He brought himself closer to you, nuzzling into your neck. The only thing louder than his groans were your unholy moans of his name, curses, and incoherent babbles. “There we go. Taking me so well,” Sam panted. He continued to snap his hips into yours, your breast bouncing with every thrust.

Sam could feel your walls milking him, an indication you were getting close to your final orgasm. Sam knew your body better than you did, knowing exactly where your sweet spot was deep in your cunt. “You wanna cum for me? Hmm? Wanna be my good little whore and cum for me?” Sam asked, knowing the teasing would only provoke you further. You whined as you met his icy blue eyes, nodding profusely. “I wanna cum, please let me cum, oh- oh fuck!” You cried, your eyes rolling into the back of your head as you came on Sam’s cock. The blonde adored the feeling of your gummy walls clinging to him, his hips twitching as he came deep inside of you. You both were cold, panting messes, Sam reluctant to set you down. He knew that your legs tended to give out on you after cumming. “Let me get you cleaned up,” He murmured. He held your waist firmly, guiding you to stand on your own. You leaned against his chest, the blonde not failing to notice the goosebumps that were spreading across your skin from the cold shower.

You looked up at him, your eyes big as you admired your lover.

“I think it’s time for me to return the favor,” You said, lowering yourself onto your knees.

[quillcraftconquer]

John Price x Ex-Wife Part II

Didnt realize you guys loved the angst so much (honestly same.)

Tw: Angst, unprotected piv, verbal argument.

(WIP still. I promise there’s more.)

—-

It was already dark out, the front porch light shining through the small glass windows that accompanied your front door. You had already put your son to bed, been woken up, and put him down again a few times. You were in the process of working towards sleep again when you heard a gentle knock on the door.

You struggled with the squirming baby in your arms, trying to avoid the toys that littered the ground around your feet like mines. You heard another small knock on the door, struggling to get to it in time.

"It's open." You called out, knowing that it was John on the other side. The handle turned, and John poked his head in, lips pressed into a tight line. You knew he wanted to chastise you about leaving the door unlocked, but his eyes fell to the floor, observing the toys strewn around, and then back up at you, kicking them out of the way with your son outstretched in your arms. He stepped inside, still dressed in his tactical pants, boots, and a tight fitting tan shirt. If you weren't struggling to keep a hold of your baby and navigate to him, you would have stumbled at the site. John, despite being a few years older than the men he worked with, still looked damn good, with thick forearms laced with dark brown hair and rounded biceps. The only part of his body that showed his age was the grey peppering his hair and the thin layer of fat that laid over his abs. He let a backpack fall from his shoulders, setting it on the ground beside him. He stepped forward, meeting you in the middle of the corridor to take the baby from your arms.

"Hi, love." He cooed at him softly, brushing the wild hair on the baby's head down with his hand. You sighed with relief, bending to pick up some of the toys on the ground and toss them into a bin.

"Been up awhile?" John asked, planting soft kisses on the side of your sons head.

"Up, down, and back up again." You admitted, sitting back on your heels and staring up at John.

"I'm sorry I'm late." He apologized, and you shrugged in response. It wasn't anything new.

"Need help?" He asked, nodding his head to the destruction on the floors. You chewed on the inside of your cheek for a moment. You did want the help, but you didn't necessarily want John in your house for longer than he needed to be.

"Yes." You finally said in a sigh, and John immediately dropped to his knees, setting your son gently on the floor next to him. John grabbed one of the toys, handing it to your son to play with while he began to gather the others around him, tossing them into the same bin. You helped him gather from your own spot on the floor, occasionally stopping to prevent your son from pulling the toys back out. Finally, both of you on your hands and knees, you met in the middle, picking up the few toys that were left. You both reached for the same toy, your fingers colliding against his hand. The touch made you pause, a tingle running down your spine. Your eyes flickered up at John, who had also paused, his large calloused hand resting on top of yours. His eyes met yours, and you swallowed the lump that had formed in your throat. Something between love, sadness, and need filled his eyes when you bit your bottom lip.

Had he always been this attractive?

"I-" You started to say, before being interrupted by the babbling coming from your son.

"Da-da. Da-da, da-da" He babbled, reaching his chubby arms out towards John. John's head whipped towards him so fast strands of your hair fluttered across your face.

Your heart tightened in your chest. Your sons first words. Part of you wanted to melt into a puddle on the floor like John was doing, eyes filled with love and adoration as he pulled your son into his lap, chuckling as he encouraged him to say it again.

The other part of you was devastated. Jealously, and guilt from it, coiling in your stomach and replacing whatever feeling John had put there. You, who spent countless hours awake with him. You, who changed the majority of the dirty diapers. You, who waved goodbye to your husband every-other-week to do this alone, and still.

You always came last.

You brushed the feelings aside, plastering a smile on your face as your son curled into his fathers body, eyes heavy with sleep. Tears pricked the corner of your eyes, and you blinked them away quickly.

"I can swing by in the morning, pick him up then." John offered softly.

You nodded, tossing the last toy into the bin.

John rose to his feet, and you followed suit. You reached out towards your son, and John hesitated, still cradling his head to his chest.

"Can I lay him down?" John asked.

You didn't want to take this moment from him.

"Sure. It's down the hall, first door on the left." You said, gesturing to the hallway behind you. John nodded, his eyes grateful as he took a step towards the room. You stopped him as he passed you, grasping his biceps. You could feel his muscles instinctively flex under your fingers, and you smiled a little at the action.

"Take your boots off." You told him, and he obliged, using his free hand to loosen the laces and the stepping on the back of the heel to kick his boots free. You took the boots, setting them to the side and kicking the remnants of dried mud to the side as well. John continued down the hallway, disappearing into your sons room.

You walked into the living room, surveying the mess in there. You dragged a hand down your face before getting on your hands and knees, gathering the toys into a small pile.

You stopped when you saw movement in the reflection of the black screen of the TV. John was standing in front of the couch, now empty handed, but not making eye contact with you.

John was staring straight at your ass.

Normally, you would grumble at him, maybe even lash out at him, but tonight you didn't.

Instead, you arched your back, knowing the bottom of your pajama shorts were already too short, showing off the crease where your thighs met your ass. John sank into the couch, still staring dumbly at you. You could see him shift uncomfortably, hands gathering in his lap to hide the bulge you knew had begun to form.

You were suddenly very grateful you hadn't put pillows on the couch yet.

You swiveled to turn towards him, and his eyes finally jumped up to your face, his face flushing with embarrassment at being caught.

"He's asleep. I'll come by in the morning. What tim-" John stopped himself as you crawled towards him, resting your hands on top of his knees. You pushed his legs apart, slowly stroking your hands up his large thighs. You could already feel how wet you were, each rub of cotton on your clit drowning out the doubt of what you were doing. John was breathing heavier now, watching you as you unbuttoned the top of his pants, the tip of his hard cock already beading with precum as you tugged it out.

“Love…” John sighed, his jaw clenching when you began to stroke him, hand molding around the familiar part of his body you once devoted your life to.

“Love, stop.” John said, unable to control his body as his hips bucked into your hand.

“Tell me you want me.” You breathed, wiggling out of your pajama shorts and climbing on top of him.

“Of course I want you.” John answered, furrowing his brow slightly at your request.

“Show me you want me.” You said, clasping a hand behind his neck as you sank down on him, letting out a moan as your body stretched for him.

You hadn’t had sex since the divorce, almost a year. Your body quaked at the sensation of being filled again, by your ex husband nonetheless.

John grabbed your face between his hands, kissing you desperately as you began to rise and fall on him. He withdrew from the kiss, wrapping his arms around your torso and smashing your body against his chest in a tight hug that matched the feverish need in his kiss. He began to thrust his own hips upwards, and you stifled a cry as your hands gripped the back of the couch behind him.

“I love you.” He mumbled into the shell of your ear, one hand twisting into your hair to hold you close to him. You could feel his pace become erratic, his other hand drifting low to grip one of your ass cheeks as he pumped into you.

Suddenly, his grip tightened, fingers digging into your flesh as you felt the hot release deep inside of you. You groaned, pressing your mouth against his flushed neck to stifle the noise. You remained there, face buried into his neck as you felt him begin to soften.

“Love.” John said, and you drew back to look at him. He lifted a hand to cup your cheek, thumb stroking the side of your face. You leaned into the touch.

“I want you. I need you. But if you want me here, if you need me, you have to stop pushing me away.” He said softly, and you immediately stiffened.

“I pushed you away?” You asked, bewildered at his audacity.

“That’s not what I-“ John started, and you interrupted him.

“It wasn’t your job, or the countless nights alone, or wondering if you were alive that pushed you away? It was me?” You snapped, quickly pulling yourself off of him, causing him to wince. “God, John.” You mumbled, snatching your shorts off the ground and pulling them onto your body. John stuffed his cock back into his pants, lifting his hips slightly to zip them.

“I want to try, love. Us, again. I think we should try.” John said, following you into the front corridor as you kicked his boots at him.

“I think you need to leave.” You bit out, crossing your arms in front of your chest. John’s shoulders slumped as he pulled his boots on, kneeling as he tied the laces.

“I am trying.” John pleaded again, and you couldn’t help but sneer.

“You’ve always been pretty shitty at trying, John.” You said, and John’s face dipped into a frown.

“You’ve always been pretty shitty at letting me.” He grumbled, angrily finishing the laces on his other boot.

“That’s my fault too, isn’t it? I pushed you away and made you a shitty father, didn’t I?” You pressed him, knowing the latter was a lie, but the anger and bile in your throat too strong to swallow.

As if on cue, you heard your son begin to cry from his room. John began to walk towards it, and you put a hand up to his chest to stop him.

“Don’t.” You ordered, and for the first time in knowing him, John grabbed your wrist, not out of love, but out of anger. You could feel how tightly wound he was, body tense as he pushed you, albeit gently, away from his body and out of his way as he walked to your son’s room silently. You balled your hands into tight fists, storming to your bedroom and slamming the door shut behind you as tears fell from your eyes.

You knew this was a mistake. A big fucking mistake.

You let the sobs escape, curling into yourself. The emptiness of the bed was almost haunting, and your heart ached with the memories of being able to curl around John when you slept.

You listened to him walk back into the corridor, slamming the front door behind him. You wiped the tears from your face as you pulled up the baby monitor on your phone, heart dropping again with sadness when you saw the empty crib. John had taken your son with him.

You clutched the phone to your body, letting yourself feel every ache as you struggled to fall asleep.

[starmocha]

I For You [Zayne/Reader ★ 3372 words ★ Masterlist ★ Series Index ★ AO3] Lazy morning with Zayne. A/N: I love my sweetie darling honey baby snookums-pookie Zayne so much. Happy birthday to our precious doctor who deserves the whole universe and more. 🥹❤️

You awoke from your deep sleep, feeling the bed shifting with the sudden added weight. You looked up groggily, bleary eyes attempting to adjust to the dark bedroom.

“Go back to sleep,” you heard Zayne’s soft voice murmuring, the familiar and comforting crisp scents of his shampoo and body wash wafted in the air. It smelled like mint. Your sleep-addled brain started connecting the dots, realizing Zayne must have just gotten home from the hospital not too long ago. You started to wake up more fully once it finally clicked in your head that Zayne was finally home after finishing the recent grueling schedule for the week.

“You’re home,” you said, getting up and kneeling on the bed as you watched him settled in next to you. Your heart skipped a beat when he leaned over and placed a chaste kiss on your lips, apologizing quietly for disturbing your sleep. You shook your head and wrapped your arms around his neck. “I’m glad you woke me up.”

“I didn’t mean to,” he said again, chuckling softly as his own arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you down to lay next to him. He pressed his lips to your forehead. “It’s still dark out. Go back to sleep, darling.”

You peeked over at the clock on his nightstand and noticed it was almost six in the morning. “You sleep,” you told him, “I’ve rested enough. I can go do some chores while you sleep.”

As the last word left your mouth, Zayne tightened his hold around you, pulling you closer to his body to prevent you from leaving. You whined a little when his sudden action caused your slip dress to rise up above your thighs, but Zayne didn’t seem to care, his hold on you unyielding even as you attempted to fix your dress. He quieted you with a gentle kiss to your head. “It’s Sunday,” he said, “The chores can wait.”

Zayne yawned, his eyes looking heavier. He nuzzled his cheek against your hair. “Stay with me,” he murmured drowsily.

You gave in to Zayne’s insistence, staying until he fell asleep, which didn’t actually take long. He had pushed his body to the extreme, prioritizing others over himself without a thought or any hesitation. Now that he finally had a quiet moment to himself, to finally lay down to rest, his body gave in helplessly to the exhaustion from a week of overwork. On top of that, with your soft body and comforting warmth next to him, Zayne had drifted off to a deep sleep sooner than expected.

You peered up curiously, examining his sleeping face. This was your chance.

When you tried to leave, however, Zayne unconsciously tightened his hold, keeping your body pressed firmly against his. You sighed with a smile. You nuzzled your cheek against his chest, feeling the soft fabric of his sleepshirt and his warm embrace comforting you as well.

You listened to his soft breathing as he slept, but you yourself was now more awake and alert than before. Sleep was not coming back to claim you, but you were fine with that. You had already planned beforehand that today you would spend the morning tidying the house and doing some chores while Zayne rested. You had even planned out all the meals you would prepare for him on his rare day off.

You cracked a smile, already giddy over what you had planned for breakfast. Before you could enact your plan, though, you needed to find a way to leave Zayne’s iron embrace, which in all honesty, was not the worst problem to have crossed your path. Any other day, you would have welcomed this situation, but today you were set on your plan to pamper and spoil Zayne. You stayed with him an extra fifteen minutes, feeling his hold on you loosening as he fell into a deeper slumber.

You could hear Zayne softly snoring. You lightly poked his cheek. He remained asleep. You smiled.

Taking this chance, you carefully pried yourself from his embrace and stealthily rolled out of bed. You landed on your feet lightly, but you still froze in place, keeping your eyes glued on him to make sure he was still asleep. Zayne answered you with his light snores and you breathed out in relief. You snuck out of the room and freshened up in the guest bathroom before you began tackling your self-imposed list of chores.

For the next two hours, you had straightened out the living room, tidied Zayne’s work desk, and started on a load of neglected laundry. By eight, the sun had already risen and you opened the living room curtain to let the warm sunshine into Zayne’s monochromatic home.

You smiled. Now onto your favorite part of the to-do list: making breakfast.

You hummed happily to yourself as you made your way into the kitchen and gathered all of the necessary ingredients to make French toasts. A sweet breakfast for the sweetest man in your life.

You beaten a couple of eggs with milk, adding a generous helping of sugar, a pinch of salt, a drizzle of vanilla, and a touch of cinnamon and nutmeg. The warm scent of the spices already found their way to your nose, filling you with joy as you placed some thick-cut day-old brioche bread into the egg custard. You made sure the bread soaked up as much of the custard as possible before transferring it to a hot pan with melted butter. The light sizzles filled the air with the rich buttery scent, making your stomach rumbled in anticipation. You vaguely wondered if Zayne could smell the food you were making for him.

Once fully browned on both sides, you transferred two toasts over to a plate, placing one flat while the second leaned on the bottom toast at an angle. Satisfied with the position, you continued your plating, adding a pat of cold butter on the warm toast. You scattered an assortment of different brightly-colored berries all over the plate and finished with a generous dusting of powdered sugar.

You brought the finished plate over to a bamboo tray, adding alongside it a mug of freshly-brewed coffee and a glass of orange juice. You also placed a bottle of maple syrup on the tray, well certain that your sweet-toothed boyfriend would enjoy adding more sweetness to his liking.

You practically skipped to Zayne’s bedroom with the tray of food, excited to see his reaction. As you nudged the semi-closed bedroom door open with your hip, you could see Zayne was starting to stir.

Zayne’s arm reached over to your side of the bed, feeling only the empty space. His eyes were still closed, but you could see the frustrated creases on his face. He started to wake up, opening his eyes slowly. He frowned when his eyes registered the empty space next to him.

“Good morning,” you greeted him, placing the tray on the nightstand. Zayne turned over to look at you and the food in surprise.

“You did this?”

You sat down on the edge of the bed as Zayne sat up, leaning back against the headboard. You reached up and touched his cheek. “Today I am spoiling you,” you told him, smiling as his eyes seemed to widen even further in surprise.

“You didn’t have to do this,” he told you, his hand reaching out to cup your cheek. You noticed his eyes reflected differently from what he had said. You could see the depths of gratitude and adoration in his gorgeous green eyes and it made you feel tickled pink, pleased that you could bring him this small amount of joy.

“I know,” you answered, “But I wanted to. You deserve to be pampered.”

You almost giggled when you noticed the faintest red on his ears.

“Thank you,” he mumbled, leaning down and capturing your lips, surprising you momentarily before you responded, deepening the kiss further. You gasped in surprise when he pulled you back into bed, keeping you close to his body. You looked up curiously, meeting his cool, calm gaze.

“Zayne—y-your breakfast…” your brain was malfunctioning as you locked eyes with him, feeling his right hand skimming down your body.

He wore the faintest smirk on his face as he pulled you to him with your back pressed to his chest. You gasped again as his hand reached down under your nightgown, searching for your intimate area. You covered your mouth to suppress a cry when he slipped his hand into your panties, fingers already feeling you.

“I’ll enjoy breakfast later,” he promised, kissing your cheek, “Right now…I just want to enjoy you, darling.”

With his other free hand, he pried your hand away from your mouth, chiding you gently, “I want to listen to your pretty voice.” Before you could even voice your protest, Zayne was already tugging your panties down. He slipped his fingers in pass your lips, smiling when you immediately bucked against his hand with a startled moan. “Want to hear you make these sweet sounds for me—because of me…”

You clenched around his fingers with a moan, your face pressed into the pillow. “Oh, Zayne…”

“Yes, darling?”

You gripped the pillow helplessly, needing something to hold onto as Zayne pulled you firmly to him. Your cheeks rosy, expression becoming more and more aroused as you could feel his cock hardening against your ass while he worked his fingers in and out of you, his thumb finding your clit to circle and tease, drawing out more of the sweet noises he desired from you.

“Zayne—your fingers!” You unconsciously thrusted into his hand, needing more of him, more of this sweet pleasure he was giving you.

“Hmm?” Zayne looked down at you with a smirk, enjoying the sight of his beloved coming undone by him. His face leaned closer to your ear, his husky whisper made you trembled, made you feel an ache in the pit of your belly. “Do you feel good, darling?”

“Y—yes!”

“Good,” he murmured, “I want you to feel good.”

He kissed your neck deeply, his lips lingering, the warmth of his breath and the words he spoke making you shivered with desire. “You’re always so good to me, so I want you to feel the same.”

His pacing increased, expert fingers already knowing where you’re most sensitive, where just the slightest touch could have you arching up, shamelessly thrusting into his hand for your release.

“Ah, Zayne, don’t—I’m going to cum!” You held onto the pillow tighter, nails already snagging along the fabric of the pillowcase. You buried your face into the pillow, gasping and whimpering, voice growing a pitch higher as you felt that oncoming tightening in your core.

“Go ahead,” he whispered, his voice still soft and gentle while yours was frantic and pleading. “I want you to cum, want you to cum all over my fingers like the good girl you are.”

“Ohh…Zayne…” You writhed against him, desperate to hear more of him—feel more of him.

“You are a good girl, aren’t you, darling?”

“Ye—yes!”

“My good girl?”

“Yes, yes, Zayne! Yours! Always yours! Ahh—” You cried and sobbed into the pillow, eyes squeezed tightly shut, your only thought was the feeling of your climax, the feeling of Zayne’s fingers still inside you, still easing you back down from your high. You could hear Zayne hissed quietly as you clenched tightly around his fingers, coating them with your release. When he had finally withdrew his fingers, you barely registered it, barely registered that he had also turned you so could lay on your back. Seconds passed before you finally opened your eyes again. Immediately, you felt a tight coil in your belly, your cheeks burning hot as you watched him licked and sucked his fingers clean of you.

He smiled.

“Z-Zayne…” your voice was feeble—whether it was weakened from your pleasurable cries just moments ago, from watching him sucked your juice off his fingers so deliciously, or just the way he smiled at you with so much affections, you weren’t sure anymore.

You sighed happily when his hand caressed your cheek, his face leaning in close. His breath was so warm against your lips as he spoke softly, “Are you still going to spoil me today?”

You nodded immediately despite not knowing his intentions with his question. When you realized what he had meant, your eyes widened in shock as he immediately had you spread out in front of him, his hardened cock already free from its confine and resting heavily in his hand as he leisurely stroked himself.

“N-no, Zayne! I’m not ready!”

“You’re still so wet,” he murmured, guiding himself to your entrance, pleased when you let out a whimper at feeling just the tip pressing into you. He husked lowly, “I think you’re plenty ready for me, darling.”

You leaned back, fingers already digging into the bedsheets as more and more of him entered. You whined softly and pleaded with him.

“Shh, I’ll be gentle, let you get used to me…”

Your hips bucked against him, your body still overly sensitive from your recent climax just mere moments ago. You let out a shaky gasp as you took him in, feeling every glorious inch of him stretching and filling your sensitive pussy. You panted, moaning weakly, “Ohhh, Zayne, it’s too much…Ah-ahh…!”

He kissed your forehead, reassuring you gently, “You can take me, you always do.” His soft voice wrapped around you, filling you with warmth and comfort. He smiled as he could feel you relaxing as he fully penetrated you, bottoming out with a low moan. He claimed your lips, greedily and shamelessly stealing several kisses from you. “You’re so good to me, aren’t you, darling?”

You nodded instinctively, your lust-hazed mind unable to fully think of anything other than Zayne and the feel of him buried so deep inside you. You moaned as he pulled out and then thrusted back in, his rhythm was slow, deliberate, his intent was to have you savor the feel of him, to draw out your time together.

The way you kept saying his name, kept pleading and moaning for him—because of him—made his chest tightened. In this whole wide world, in this lifetime and the next, he wanted no one else but you, and to be wanted in the same way by you, he knew he was blessed to have this love all to himself.

“Let’s take our time, darling,” he murmured, his large hand finding yours, fingers intertwining as he pressed both your hands deeper into the mattress. His forehead rested against yours, his heavy body close to yours—everything of his, yours. When he spoke, you could feel his warm breath caressing your lips again, “I just want to be with you…feel you like this…”

“Mmmm…Zayne…”

His lips seized yours, swallowing all of your words and sounds for himself. You moaned into his mouth, feeling his grip on your hand tightened ever so slightly when your legs hooked around his waist, pulling him in deeper. Zayne was willing to be selfless in all other aspects of his life, but when it came to you, he wanted everything of yours to be his and his alone. It seemed only you could make him behave so selfishly, to rebel so willingly, to fall so helplessly—only you. For you.

“Darling…”

You welcomed the long, slow kisses, his languid, fluid movements, the feel of his body covering yours, taking you for himself as if you were the most prized treasure in the world. His soft murmurs of love and praises were so intoxicating, almost hypnotizing, even, like you were falling under his spell. It was almost like he wanted to make you forget all others, forget the world outside this room, and let your thoughts be consumed with only him.

“Feels so good…so good to me…” his lazy words tumbled freely out of his mouth as he branded your neck and shoulder with his kisses. He had let go of your hand, bringing his to cup your face. He caressed your cheek gently, watching as you gazed up at him with rosy cheeks and mouth parting with soft pants and gasps as you took in his slow thrusts. You held your eyes with his, both reflecting different sentiments.

He smirked a little, seeing the conflict in your eyes from wanting to enjoy this slow tender moment a little longer to needing him to fuck you harder and make a mess of you. “You’re so pretty like this, darling,” he said, bringing his hands down to grip your hips. His calloused hands held you firmly while he pulled out and then slammed back into you harder than before, surprising you into crying out his name.

Zayne’s heavy panting rang in your ears, mixing with your own needy moans as you felt his movements becoming faster, rougher. You met his thrusts, the sudden shift in pacing broke the restraints you both held earlier. When he leaned down closer, your arms encircled around his neck, gasping as he lifted you higher off the bed, your legs locked tightly around his waist. You cried into the crook of his neck, feeling all of him penetrating you so deeply over and over and over again.

“Yes…yes…yes…oh, god, Zayne…!”

“Getting so tight,” he grunted, holding you closer to him, pounding into you quicker, his own release was also near. Your nails scraped along his back, urging him more and more. His soft curses got lost amidst your pleading cries.

“Please…I’m gonna…ahh…I’m gonna cum again…Za—”

You cried into his shoulder, nails digging into his back, scratching and clawing as you held on helplessly while he continued to plumbed into you, taking you past the point of no return as he was desperate for his own approaching release.

Your back hit the soft mattress, his body heavy on yours, lips and tongue and teeth marking you up, hands fumbling along your body, feeling all that was his as he rocked into you, rammed into you, chasing after his release. You moaned when he pushed your nightgown up above your chest, taking your nipple into his mouth and sucking hard, groaning deeply when your fingers tangled into his soft hair, tugging at him, too overwhelmed and stimulated to even register your own actions.

Just when you thought you couldn’t take any more of his sudden aggressive treatment, he stilled and emptied into you hot and fast. Your eyes closed, lost in the feeling of him filling you so wonderfully, his seed spilling out of you, dripping down your thighs.

Your head felt clouded, lost amidst the residual lust-filled haze. You could still hear Zayne’s soft panting, feel him softening inside you, feel the lingering aftershocks of your orgasm. You whimpered when you felt him pulling out, felt him laying down heavy next to you, dragging you back into his arms.

The warm sunlight filtered in through a crack in the curtain. Distantly, you heard birds chirping, a passing car, idle chatters of walkers and dogs barking. Zayne’s gentle voice instantly cut through, drowning out the other noises as he brought your attention back to the present—back to him.

You opened your eyes, seeing the beautiful green and yellow in his eyes gazing back at you so sweetly, so lovely. “Thank you,” Zayne said, soft, gentle lips brushed against yours, “Thank you…for loving me.”

Your heart skipped several beats. You wanted to echo the same words back to him, wanted him to know your feelings mirrored his, but a strong wave of exhaustion hit you suddenly, your body completely drained of energy to fight back. You could feel sleep was coming back to claim you soon. You could barely keep your heavy eyes open.

Wrapped in his arms, secured in his warmth, you mumbled sleepily against his chest, “Your breakfast is cold…”

He chuckled, amused by your silly innocuous thought. He nuzzled his cheek against the top of your head, his arms holding you firmly to him, his hand rubbing soothing circles along your back to lull you to sleep faster. “Trust me, darling, my appetite has been satisfied…”

[moamidzyism]

house warming (k.mg)

☆。.:*·ﾟwc 756 smut ౨ৎ men DNI ˚⁺。˚ ୨୧ mingyu x fem!reader, established relationship, cockwarming [masterlist • reblogs + feedback appreciated]

you really should have planned better.

it was like everything that could possibly go wrong did. you imagined that by now you would be wrapped up in a large, cozy comforter nestled on your cloud soft king size bed in your already furnished new house. but the movers got the wrong date down, so now your house was bare save for the mess of cardboard boxes in every room and the lumpy air mattress in the middle of your lonely bedroom.

the room lacked the warmth you had hoped for, and the chilly air seeped through the gaps. and to make matters worse, you found out that your heater was broken, in the dead of winter. 

it was too much to manage in one night, so you decided to unpack your closet and go to sleep. everything else was tomorrow’s problem.

but in the middle of the night, you stir awake, a kink in your neck reminding you of your less than ideal sleeping arrangement. you turn to the man lying beside you, who is restlessly moving around.

“what are you doing?” you groggily snap at him.

“i’m sorry,” he mumbles. “”i’m just really cold.”

“there are extra blankets in the closet, i think.” you suggest, rolling over, trying to lull yourself back to sleep.

“i wanna feel you, baby.” he whispers, nuzzling his nose into the crook of your neck. you roll away from him, more focused on checking your phone, causing him to emit a low groan.

“no, baby, come back here.” he pleads, drawing out the last syllable of his sentence.

“mingyu, it’s two in the morning.” you retort, the harsh blue glow of your phone illuminating the room’s bare bones.

“i’m so cold,” he whines again, pulling the comforter over the two of you.

“baby, check in the closet for extra blankets.”

“but you’re so warm here,” he pulls you closer to him. he snuggles into your neck, breathing in the scent of your shampoo.

“god, we need to call a repair person to fix that stupid heater,” you groan when you think about everything that you need to do.

“we can do that in the morning,” he says, as he traces kisses along your jawline to your neck. “but in the meantime, we can keep each other warm.”

“mingyu, babe, i’m so tired, and the movers are coming at ten and we still have so much to do.”

“baby, baby,” he shushes you, wrapping you in his arms. “just relax.”

“i’m trying to go back to sleep.”

“please,” mingyu begs. “baby, it’s cold outside. i just want to feel your warmth.” you feel a shiver down your spine when he begins to nibble on your ear. “you don’t have to do anything, i just wanna be inside you.”

he slides your sweatpants down. slowly guiding his cock to your entrance, he rubs it up and down your slit. his tip pokes around your entrance and you push your hips back, encouraging him to enter into your tight cunt. his hands grip your hips tightly, his face screwing up in pleasure as he slowly pushes. you suck your breath as he bottoms out. “sorry,” he mumbles.

“it’s fine,” you sigh, melting into his embrace. mingyu, still mumbling sorries, moves around until he finally feels comfortable. when he does, his head returns to the nook of your neck. the two of you lie with your figures entwined, your limbs interwoven in an affectionate dance. your head rests against his chest, his heartbeat beneath you serving as a lullaby. his cold hands slide underneath your sweatshirt, and you clench around him.

“fuck,” he groans lowly and now it’s your turn to profusely apologize. “it’s fine, honey, just give me a moment to calm down.” you give him a moment before you place your hands on top of his arms where they rested at your waist. this was supposed to be an innocent moment – as innocent as it could be. it was supposed to be an opportunity to feel close to each other, but, as you’d expect with your boyfriend, innocence seemed to take a backseat to a different kind of intimacy.

slowly he rocks his hips against yours, prompting a soft moan to escape from your lips. “gyu,” you warn him slightly, but he ignores you, his hands slipping down to your hips to pull you closer to him. “what happened to “i just want to feel you”?”

“m sorry,” he moans out, “you know i can’t help it. you just feel so good.”

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[novemberheart]

{overview} The two alphas in the pack are warming up to you and you can't help but feel the same

{warnings} a/b/o dynamics, fem reader, a bit of reader backstory, poly 141 x reader

Chapter 7 <- Chapter 8 -> Chapter 9

“Sweetheart, I want you to promise me two things.” John began as you started your walk back home. “Number one, if there's a question on this thing-” he nearly growled, holding up the envelope he was carrying for you. “that you don't want to answer, don't. Nobody's business if you don't want it to be, understand?”

“Yes, Alpha.” the title slipped from your lips out of instinct. You were so focused on your own embarrassment to notice the sudden rise in his body temperature, or the way he began holding the envelopes lower. “I’m sorry-”

“Don't be,” he insisted. “You can call me whatever you want, whatever feels comfortable to you,” he assured, causing your heart rate to slow. The title ‘alpha’ certainly fits the Captain. It also felt more personal- more intimate than John. You hoped the outside air would be enough to waft away the growing sweetness in your scent.

“What was the other thing you wanted me to promise?” you reminded.

“That you'll seriously think about getting chipped. If it's a hard no, I'll understand, but it's important to me- to all of us that we set you up to be safe should anything happen.” he requested.

The butterflies in your stomach were fluttering around at lightspeed. The alpha was close to you as you walked. The overwhelming urge to just tuck yourself under his strong arm so he could make good on his promises. A whine left your throat at the understanding that you couldn't touch him yet.

Alpha's were built to keep their omegas warm. Your omega was throwing a temper tantrum at the denial.

“I’ll stop pressing you, sweetheart. I apologize.”

You quickly realized he was referencing your whine. The sound made his stomach flip.

“No- I wasn’t whining at that. I'm not sure where that came from, to be honest.” you lied. “It's probably a good idea actually. It'll help me feel safer too.” you didn't know who had taken over your mouth. Maybe it was desperation. If you got chipped that would be one step closer to being his.

“Come on, pup.” You poked your head outside your door, peering at Simon as he shut the TV off and stood up from the couch. He winced a bit as he tested how much weight he could put on his leg. He stood still watching you with dull eyes. You quickly got up and trotted over to him.

“Do you need something?” you pondered.

“Time for your walk,” he smirked down at you, making his way over to the kitchen, where he grabbed his key card and a pack of cigarettes out of the drawer. He then grabbed a black balaclava and tugged it over his head. Your brows furrowed at the tease in his voice, but you complied heading back towards your room to grab a pair of shoes. “Need to get you walking shoes.” he ‘tsked’ eyeing your flats. There was a subtle limp in his walk and you could tell he was trying to downplay it.

“Do you need a cane or something?” you poked. He shot you a look, but his hand reached up and rested on the back of your neck, causing you to erupt in goosebumps.

“This’ll do.” he shot back, giving you a gentle squeeze.

“You like being outside don't you?” he observed, watching the way your breathing deepened and a glow appeared on your face as the sun hit it. You nodded your head.

“I grew up in a crowded city. Every summer break my parents would take me to the countryside to be with the rest of our pack,” you explained.

“Split pack?” he asked.

“Yeah,” you affirmed softly.

“That’ll serve you here.” Simon commented. “You already have experience being away from the majority of your pack, along with knowing how to manage the emotions that come with it.”

“For when you guys have to do your jobs?” you clarified. He sucked air through his teeth, then hummed in agreement. When you were at the Omega house you would lie awake thinking about it, growing anxious even though you had no relationship with them. Now the thought of them leaving wasn't an entirely negative one. You hoped that they wouldn't all leave at the same time. It would give you a chance to bond with those who stayed and miss the ones who left. “How often do you leave anyways?” you questioned.

“Eager, huh?” he gave the back of your neck another squeeze. “We never know. Sometimes we’ll go a few weeks without being called away, other times we’ll just be here a few days out of the month.”

“Do you all leave at the same time?” you held your breath.

“Sometimes.” he drew out. “That might change with you though, at least in the beginning.” he sighed. He guided you behind a large building, releasing your neck. He leaned against the side of it, pulling the pack of cigarettes out of his pocket, rolling his mask up, and placing the cigarette between his lips. “You don't smoke do you?”

“No.” you nearly spat.

“Good, nasty habit.” he praised, lighting it. All was quiet between the two of you and you focused on trying to listen to the birds between the distant sound of gunfire, whirling machines, and shouting. “How’d you end up in an omega house?” he asked suddenly. He watched as you frilled up like a spooked cat.

“When I was fifteen my mom left us.” you began. You avoided Simon’s gaze even though you could feel the burn of it. “My dad reclaimed shortly after and along with that came a new pack. I didn't adjust too well.” you trailed off.

“Their fault or yours?” he questioned. You paused for a long moment mulling it over. You finally lifted your eyes from the tree line, merging with Simons. Cold and unreadable.

“I'm not sure. Mix of both,” you whispered. He got the last bit of cigarette he could before putting it out against the lid of a trash can.

“Tell you what.” he started. The grip on the back of your neck returned, as he headed back towards the pavement. “I’ll let you know whose fault it is after I get to know you a bit better.” he offered. You rolled your eyes, ignoring the slight sting in your chest at the memories.

“Hey, Peaches.” an instant smile appeared on your face at the familiar voice.

“Hi, Johnny.” you smiled up at him. You had just gotten back from your walk with Simon when John and Kyle came back to swoop you up for lunch. After they dropped you back off you were determined to finally finish unpacking.

“Need any help?” He asked, taking a seat in your doorway.

“Not really.” you sighed, looking over your horrible wrinkled clothes. “Thanks though, Johnny.” You smiled. He smiled back, getting himself comfortable by leaning against your doorframe. “Can I ask you something?” you asked hesitantly.

“Course, bonnie,” he replied instantly.

“How come you don't have an omega yet?” his smile remained on his face as he shrugged.

“I always wanted one, and I know Kyle has been thinking about it a lot lately, well, ever since Laswell had brought it up. I think the Captain was putting it off because he's a worrier. Simon is just a prick.” he whispered the last part, his eyes snapping over to the couch where Simon had passed out. You giggled, following his gaze. “I hope we didn't hurt your feelings, bonnie. I know Laswell wanted to pair you up with us sooner and we”-

“Rejected the idea?” You finished for him. He nodded his head- regretfully.

“Didn’t know it would be you though.” The smirk returned to his face, as his eyes drifted up and down you playfully.

“I don’t think Simon’s a prick.” You defended softly, wanting to change the subject. “He’s been quite nice to me. Well- all of you have.” You sighed happily.

The words he wanted to say were at the tip of his tongue, but he swallowed it back. The truth was you seemed rather oblivious to your impact. The closest way he could describe you was addictive. Your scent, your eyes, even the way you scowled when you didn’t approve of something. You had flipped a switch in the brains that had been dormant their whole lives. It wasn't just him either. He watched the way John eyed the clock and practically sprinted out the door when it was time to pick you up for lunch. He noticed the way Kyle picked out a deep, forest green shirt today because you had absentmindedly shared you had liked the color. Just the idea that you had been chosen for them. You had been selected with the intention to be theirs. And even though you still hadn't bonded with them or been marked, the prideful beta in him rumbled at the thought.

Instead of saying all that he settled with:

“Give him some time, Peaches. He’ll come around.” he snickered.

“If you say so.” you huffed.

“We should throw your things in the dryer, Bon. Can't have you walking around like nobody’s takin’ care of ya.”

It was dark out before you knew it. You had already eaten dinner, orange chicken with white rice. They didn't have a dessert, but Kyle quickly raced to the vending machine to get you a candy bar. You smiled, curling yourself deeper into your blanket.

All of you were together, for the first time since you had arrived. John is at the very end of the couch, with his feet up on the coffee table. Kyle lying next to him, his feet nearly on his lap. Johnny was also sprawled out, he and Kyle sharing a pillow. Simon sat stiffly next to him. His pain meds must be starting to wear off. You could always tell because an annoyed scowl would appear on his face. You were curled up on the other side of Simon, and you took it upon yourself to slowly inflate your scent. You weren't sure if he knew you did it on purpose, but you felt giddy when you saw his tense muscles begin to relax.

It was John's turn to pick what to watch- although he offered to forgo his turn if there was something that caught your eye. You politely shot him down, already feeling your eyelids grow heavy. He had settled on a ‘How It's Made’ episode about kayaks, safety boots, electronic signs, and cereals.

All in all, it was the perfect recipe for sleep. A pack that you were beginning to feel comfortable with, a calm voice on TV, a full stomach, and a soft blanket.

John watched as your eyelids began to droop. You were comfortable. He was pleased with how easily you had adjusted to their pack. He knows the first day wasn't easy- or what you had hoped for. If he could do it all again, trust him, he would. But here you were drifting in and out of sleep, the smell of warm peaches and vanilla filling the air. It made his own restless mind slow, and the ache in his temples dissipated.

“She asleep?” Johnny whispered. It was then he realized the show had ended. “Should we move her back to her room?” The Scot questioned, peeling himself off of the couch. He stretched, his back popping loudly.

“Best leave her out here with me,” Simon said all too quickly. Three heads snapped in his direction. “Fuck off,” he growled. “You want me to get better or not?” he reminded. They all agreed, not voicing any other theories about why he wanted you there with him.

Hi friends! Hope you enjoyed this chapter! I'll see you in two days for chapter 9! 🧡