#I love that man and it wouldn't surprise me if he turned out to be a history nerd (affectionate) like the rest of you | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

xxnashiraxx · 17 hours ago

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Pairing: Astarion/f!Durge ◇ Astarion/f!OC (Ofelia)

Word Count: 6,119

Tags/Warnings: Mature (slight spice), Soft Astarion, Fluff

Summary: It's December in Baldur’s Gate and the snow is falling on Act 3 of Ofelia's adventure. After falling ill to a cold that prevents her from spreading the joy of Christmas to her companions, they decide to band together and prepare it in secret as a surprise for her. As they look for decorations, gifts, and a tree, Astarion reflects on his time with her and contemplates whether or not his gift will convey the depth of his true feelings...

divider here!

AO3 | Song Reference: Let it Snow!

Hi everyone!!! My apologies for this trainwreck, I tried my best on little time, but I really wanted to write something sweet for these two, and I owe inspiration for this oneshot to @caffeinatedmunchkin ! Thank you again friend!!! I also tried as far as the elvish, so please bear with me 🙏🏼

Please enjoy- fluff was needed for the season, and I hope everyone has a lovely day if you celebrate!!! ❤️

“So, you expect us to believe that some jolly old man goes around to every child in your world and delivers gifts on this ‘Christmas Eve’?” Gales's tone, while incredulous, remains cheerful. “That does not seem feasible, given your planet's population.”

“Well, not every child celebrates Christmas, so not all seven billion. But yeah pretty much,” Ofelia’s eyes light with amusement as Gale begins another spiel into logic and probability, causing Astarion to roll his eyes and grumble into the chalice of blood Ofelia had filled for him not but a few minutes ago.

“It's just make-believe!” Ofelia spouts around giggles, her smile bright. “Not real! Something you tell kids so they behave, but the holiday is still the same- parents get their children gifts, blame it on Santa, make cookies and leave milk out for him for his journey, hang stockings on the mantle to see if they get coal if they’re bad or sweets and little toys if they’re good. It's all for fun- I myself most enjoy the snow and decorations.” She sounds wistful as their ragtag group listens. He watches her face twist slightly as if recalling a bad memory, and he pays attention to the warble in her voice when she next speaks.

“I haven't had a real Christmas since I was still young enough to believe… my parents did everything for me, those first nine years. It was always so magical… pazole, tamales, candy, gifts- I wished they wouldn't have, but they'd do everything, take extra shifts just so there was something under the tree for me… I miss them this time of year. Just a little bit extra.” No longer afraid of the warmth that blooms in his chest, he reaches for her and when his hand rests over her shoulder she turns to him and quickly wipes the moisture from the corner of her eye. Her cheeks crease with an appreciative smile and she squeezes his hand in thanks as the others look around.

“Would you want to celebrate it here?” Karlach asks, setting her cleaned plate off to the side on one of the many little tables littered around their common space in the Elfsong.

“You guys want to?” Ofelia asks with a soft huff, hefty emotion washing from her voice amid the sweet hope that spreads over her face.

“We may not have Santa, but why not? The spirit of gift giving and love isn’t foreign here,” Gale smiles, patting Ofelia’s opposite shoulder.

“Okay… yeah! We’ll have to find a tree, and ornaments, and gift wrapping of some kind- paper will do! Stockings to hang over the fire for each of us… day after tomorrow!” Her eyes brighten at each syllable, and for all the teasing he’d love to utter, he can’t find it in himself to poke when this is the happiest she’s looked since they’d arrived in Baldur’s Gate.

And gods, if it isn’t the happiest he’s been, as well. Since Cazador fell. They still have the brain and two of the Dead Three's chosen left, but curse it all to the hells. Right now perhaps they can indulge in some respite from it all. The calm before the storm.

They move through the rest of the day restocking their supplies, tracking down various needs, and chasing some loose ends. They discover more of Orin’s handiwork littered throughout the city, much to Ofelia’s chagrin, but decide to turn in early in the hopes of getting started on their decorating. Unfortunately, fate has other plans.

“I’m afraid healing magic really only works on injuries and the like- I’m sorry, Ofelia. I know how much this meant to you… perhaps we can have it later in the week?” Shadowheart strokes the human’s face softly, her pale hand meeting russet, clammy skin. Ofelia nods, eyes shifting to a corner of the room as the half-elf leaves and shoots Astarion a pitying frown. When the door shuts, he sinks down beside her and strokes the hair off her cheeks and forehead, fever hot against his cold undead hands.

“This sucks…” She mutters, cheeks ruddy with heat as her body fights against an infection they have no hope of combatting with anything but time and herbs. Already, Jaheira had mixed what little items she had into a concoction Ofelia had knocked back minutes ago, and though a bit of color has returned to her lips, she’s not exactly the picture of good health.

“I’m sorry, darling,” He murmurs, resting the back of his hand against her cheek. He knows she likes it when he does, and she typically runs hot, but this is something else entirely and it pulls at his unbeating heart.

“No, it’s okay… it’s been so long since I’ve tried to decorate, but I did try last year- look.” She strains to her right to grab the object that always manages to mystify him and she starts to scroll through the little frozen pictures on her device before holding some up to him. “I got this really stupid fake tiny tree and I put all those little things on it, got some tinsel and hung it up around the doors and windows.” He peers down at the small room she’d once called home- bright metallic garlands trimming the entryways with twinkling lights adorning the small tree that sits on a table in the center of it. His lips tick up at the corners as he sees her in the next photo, bright red painted lips and golden eyelids, some terribly gaudy red and green jumper covering her chest.

“Beautiful, and loud. As always,” She rolls her eyes at his attempt to poke fun, leaning down more fully onto his right elbow as she tucks herself closer to him.

“I wanted to get a big one this time… really show you guys what it looks like, though I’m not sure what the hell I’d do about the bulbs, or lights, or star on top…” She smiles up at him and he feels his chest twinge with guilt. Of course she’d gone and gotten herself sick somehow…

“There’s… always next year,” He says around the strange doubt in his mind. It’s nothing but disbelief- disbelief that she’s with him at all. That she keeps telling him she loves him. That she keeps promising they’ll defeat the brain and get rid of Orin and Gortash and be able to breathe once it’s all over… together. Sometimes the incredulity of it all still catches him off guard.

“You’re such a big softie, really,” He huffs a laugh, reaching down to pinch one of her cheeks before pressing a terse kiss to the crown of her head.

“And the mistletoe, gods, can’t forget the mistletoe!” She groans, pressing a hand over her eyes as she collapses into the pillows.

“Mistletoe?” He questions. She sighs, spreading her fingers enough so that one eye peeps up at him.

“It’s silly, but you hang it up over a doorway- it’s got these spiky green leaves and cute red berries on it- and if you pass under it with someone else you have to kiss. It’s just the rules,” He smiles, lost amid her explanation though enamored by the wonder in her voice as she speaks. “I've never been kissed under the mistletoe, you know…”

“Hmm, you haven't? Seems we'll have to change that in the future.” She giggles under the kiss he presses to her forehead, careful and full of promise. When he stands he strokes her cheek once more before adjusting the blankets.

“Get some rest, I’ll bring back some soup in a little while.” He whispers, taking her device from her to set back onto the nightstand. She pouts up at him, curiosity in her gaze, and he finishes tucking her in. “I’ll be back, promise,”

Once out in the main room, he finds the rest of his travelling companions speaking in hushed voices around the fireplace, Scratch pacing near Astarion’s feet. The dog quickly ducks in before Astarion gets the door shut, and he smirks knowing Ofelia will at least have some company before he returns to bed. Nearly every morning that mutt’s laying between them or with half his body draped over her legs. She doesn’t seem to mind, and he’s starting to grow accustomed to the beast as well, much to his disdain…

“Vampire- what are we doing about this Christmas?” Lae’zel demands as soon as he’s within a few feet of them. He simpers and sits on a lush ottoman, draping one leg over the other as he accepts a glass of wine from Gale.

“Gods, Lae’zel. We’ve only been travelling together for the last few months, I’d expect you’d have remembered my name by now.” His sly remark is met with the githyanki’s signature Tchk! before Shadowheart grins.

“Now, now, try to get along you two. Your mediator isn’t here,” The half-elf snickers, and Astarion sighs, waving a hand towards the others.

“So, what were you all murmuring about before I came out here? I’m assuming it has something to do with dear Lae’zel’s questioning?” He takes a sip of the wine- an expensive sort that flows easily down his throat- and casts his eyes amongst the others as he watches them exchange nods.

“We want to put it on anyway,” Gale explains, the dark liquor in his glass catching the light of the fire. “She spoke so fondly of it this morning, and to get sick now… it isn’t fair.” Astarion hums, pondering the silence that settles over them once Gale is finished.

He’d been of a similar mind as she’d shown him her pictures- it’d be no easy task to find a tree, especially with them being in the heart of the Gate. Then there was the tinsel he’d seen… they’d perhaps be able to find something like that in the city, the baubles…

“My, my, it’s odd being amongst you all once you actually experience an intelligent thought.” Their murmurs of disbelief and annoyance fuel the smirk that spreads over his lips as he waves a hand “I’ve been snooping through her photos and I’ve got some references we can likely use, though wrestling her away from the damn thing will be a feat in and of itself.” Astarion grumbles around another swig.

“Leave that to me,” Shadowheart assures, clapping her hands together once. “I’ll run her a bath in the morning and make sure she stays in it for a few hours. To ‘leech the toxins’ so to speak. It isn’t as if she’s well versed to our healing methods to know I’m making it up,” Astarion nods, pondering, as the others chime in.

“The tree… we won’t be able to sneak that into the city,” Wyll laments, forefinger stroking over the fine hairs on his face.

“If you were able to secure a sapling, I’m sure I’d be able to encourage it to grow quickly enough.” Halsin adds, earning a nod from the Blade.

“I’ll help with that as well,” Jaheira offers, smile on her softly lined face.

“What about the decorations?” Minthara asks, frowning.

“We’ll figure something out- I’m sure there are plenty of merchants with trinkets and baubles around- Sundries may also have something. We should ask Rolan and his siblings, as well. I seem to remember that Lia had some dolls and things made for the children once they got to the city.” Astarion nods at Gale’s words, contemplating.

“And do not forget gifts for her,” Astarion murmurs crossly, eyes flashing around the room. “At least have the common sense to wrap them first,”

“Course not,” Karlach grins a wide, toothy smile, the likes of which sets his teeth on edge. He'll never let on that it does somewhat please him, however. “We'll get gifts for Ofelia and each other!”

They scatter to their personal rooms or beds, plan worked out in the dim candlelight and hearth as if they’re a secret society. He crawls into bed with his lover, her’s and Scratch’s soft snores filling the room much to his amusement. He checks her temperature, sigh soft on his lips as he rests back against the pillows when he finds it unchanged.

As he lays in bed, his mind spins with the possibilities of all the gifts he could possibly get her- if it were up to him, he’d likely not get one at all. Perhaps steal something.

Images of her adorned with pretty scarlet jewels and glistening pearls flood his vision, though something about jewelry feels almost cold and distant- too obvious a choice. Or possibly even too meaningful, something he isn’t ready for…

No… despite her expect-nothing nature, he’d like to at least try to make this sentimental and meaningful. It could be their last celebration, after all, and gods does he care for her too much not to indulge this simple, saccharine wish. He’ll need to put in the effort- just as she puts in the effort to make him feel cared for each day. He wouldn’t be where he is now without her… without her kindness. It’s a blessing he tries not to take for granted, though he does slip up from time to time. He cannot make that mistake now.

He rises from the bed, trancing left for later, as he pulls some items out of his pack and retrieves a tool kit from the main stock supplies. He’s not sure if he’ll be any good at this, but he doesn’t trust someone else to do the job.

***

“I feel better this morning, I swear…” Ofelia grumbles as Astarion kisses her awake. For the umpteenth time, she thanks the gods that he can’t catch her cold. It’s nice to indulge in a tender kiss first thing, though she’s sure she looks positively awful. Pale skin, scarlet cheeks, sweaty and clammy. She huffs a laugh and pushes him away, making to sit up and use the restroom, but her vision tilts and she stays seated, clutching her head.

“You feel better, hmm?” He trills softly, last syllable enunciated with a haughty laugh. Smug bastard.

“I swear, if I didn’t know better I’d say you’re actually enjoying this.” He stands above her, back of his hand pressing against her forehead, and she lets out a soft moan at the relief. The heat behind her eyelids slowly recedes beneath his touch, and she clutches his hand to hold it still as he hums quietly.

“Well, you do push yourself far too much, darling. Though your pain is something I do not take pleasure in, under these circumstances at least,” She rolls her eyes at the smirk over his lips, longing curling low in her belly in spite of the state of her body.

“Yeah well, you and me both.” She sighs, kissing the back of his hand, and he stoops down to place one of his over her forehead.

“I have some errands to run with Gale of all people- Shadowheart volunteered to stay with you, said she would like to try some kind of healing bath? Silly in my opinion, but who am I to question a cleric’s healing skills?” She groans, lying back on the mattress to stare at the ceiling. She’d really wanted to see if she could convince them to let her go out and find decorations, at least put them up… but it’s not looking probable. That and she’d lied about feeling better to worm her way out of staying in today.

“Ughhhhh,” Her long drawn out groan pulls a light chuckle from the elf and she reaches up to pull him down, knee between her thighs on the spare bit of mattress available, hands at either side of her head. She wraps her arms around his torso and clings to him, trying to absorb as much of him as possible before he leaves for the day.

“I’ll be back later, just relax and enjoy your bath. Maybe there'll be a reward in it for you,” She sighs into his neck, pressing a hot kiss to his skin fueled by the promise of his words, and she smiles when his muscles stiffen. “Patience, dear,” He murmurs as he pulls away and she squeezes him one last time before letting go. There’s a knock at their door and Shadowheart appears, arms laden with towels and supplies. Ofelia smiles forlornly at her, her own far too empty in Astarion’s absence.

She doesn’t notice as she’s ushered into the washroom Astarion’s quick swipe of her phone off the nightstand, or his soft smile in her direction. She doesn’t see that smile widen into a pleased grin as his fingers snake around the gift in his pocket, clutching it with a light squeeze.

***

“Do you think she’ll like it in the morning?” Gale asks Astarion softly, the fruits of their labor casting the main room in a festive glow. Somehow, he’d been able to obtain a lighting spell scroll- something Rolan had insisted upon them not paying for once he’d heard it was for Ofelia’s benefit. Astarion had rolled his eyes- that tiefling wizard ever hopelessly infatuated despite Ofelia’s vehement denial- and they’d stopped for some books as Gale’s gift to her before Astarion had found something for the man as well. His eyes also caught on a crystal carved into the shape of a crescent moon for Shadowheart, and upon realizing his gaze was tracking items for his companions, promptly huffed in annoyance. He’d grabbed the item anyway.

“I think a twig in the corner with lights on it would send her into a fit, but this is much better.” Astarion sighs, thanking the help from the Midwinter celebrations going on around the city for the garlands of pine and the berries that now hang in the frame of every doorway. It’s not as gaudy or brightly colored as the decorations in her apartment from the photos he’d shown them all this morning, but it’ll do. Even he’s feeling a bit of wonder gazing at the lovely spruce the two druids in their group had spent nurturing, as well as cladding in brightly colored glass sphere’s Karlach procured from a friend she’d known before she’d been cast into Avernus.

Presents wrapped in paper of varying colors sit beneath the full branches, a blanket protecting them from the cold floor as Scratch paws restlessly at a long, stick shaped present wrapped in blue paper with his name penned gracefully across its front. Astarion smirks- she’ll get a kick out of that one.

“Great job, Fangs. I almost forget you don’t have a functioning heart sometimes.” Karlach’s teary voice scrapes against his nerves and he sneers, shrugging his shoulders.

“Don’t go spreading that around,” They poke fun at him some more, and thankfully he’s saved by Minthara’s short temper as she demands they all get to bed. It’s almost midnight and she’s not missing a stop from the old geezer- much to his amusement. He just barely manages to duck into his room before they dissolve into a debate about whether or not she’d paid attention to Ofelia’s story, shutting it with a soft click as he stalks over to the bed, shedding clothes on the way.

He hears even breathing- her airways finally starting to clear- and just as he slips beneath the sheets he nearly yelps.

“Hiding from me all day- what, I’m sick and you’re out there looking for a replacement after I wither away?” Her tone is playful and he smirks, admiring the color returning to her cheeks and the brightness of her eyes beneath the light of the full moon. Beneath him.

“Hmm, yes, I was shopping for a new lover today. Pity they all didn’t seem to match your prowess at being irritating. And none of them had these- seems I’m doomed to solitude.” His hands cup her breasts, separated from him by the thin layer of her cotton shirt, and she rolls her eyes and pouts.

“All you’d miss are my tits and my attitude. Rude,” A smile at the corner of her lips betrays her and he grins, fangy and wide, before claiming that smile with a kiss. “Missed you…” She hums, arms winding around his waist, and he matches the sound with sincerity, finding that his day while busy was severely lacking her presence. A travesty, indeed.

“Your fever’s gone,” He mumbles, enjoying the taste of her mouth and the way her hips slightly buck into his own, the hands still firmly anchored to her chest kneading softly. She sighs, baring her throat, and it’s all he can do to not sink his teeth in. Just a bit more recovery, and he’ll indulge in her blood again. He’s holding over with animals in the meantime.

“Mmm, whatever was in that bath made me feel a lot better. And whatever the hell concoction Jaheira made me drink earlier, too- tasted awful but I think it helped.” Her eyes find him and he brushes the hair from her face, slowly sinking onto his side and off of her.

“Good, perhaps we can get back on schedule tomorrow since you’ll be done lazing about.” She scowls and smacks his arm away before yanking the sheets up beneath her chin.

“And I was going to offer you my mouth- jerk.”

“I’ll still take it.”

“Haha. Goodnight.” He smirks and presses a kiss to her lips before lying back, eyes tracking over the beams on the ceiling as she snuggles up close and rests her head over his bicep.

“Goodnight, love.” He whispers, heart tethered to the small gift he intends to give her tomorrow, hope brimming at the fringes of his mind as he pictures her opening it.

***

“Astarion! It’s snowing look, look, wake up!” He does with a start as her hands shake his shoulders, startled out of the trance and back into the real world. For once, his reverie was clouded in visions of her and not nightmarish memories, and as he opens his eyes he yawns.

“It’s been snowing the last couple of days,” He murmurs, blinking the sleep from his eyes as he rises and lets her drag him to the window.

“Yeah, but this one’s stuck,” Her grin is nearly contagious and he fights back the compulsion to instead press his cold nose to the back of her neck as he pulls her into his arms, hands resting over her belly.

“It’s cold, white, a pain to deal with… I’m not sure what you’re so excited about.” He mouths lazily at her pulse point, delighted as her heart beat speeds up, and she laughs.

“You realize you’ve just described yourself, right?” His lips idle over her skin and with an annoyed sigh he bites enough to leave the impression of his teeth but not pierce, earning a satisfying gasp of surprise from her.

“Get dressed, I think you can leave quarantine for breakfast, today,” He knows the plan- pretends that the routine is back to normal. She slips from his arms and goes to her pile of clothing- gods, is she messy- and pulls out some comfortable pants and flashes him a look.

“Get out, I’m going to change.” She demands and he scoffs.

“I’ve seen you naked more times than I can remember, why can’t I stay?” He plays the part of mock dissatisfaction, though he’s silently pleased. It’ll give him an opportunity to check and make sure the dullards outside are ready.

“Just- out!” He huffs, pulling on a pair of pants before making for the door. His tadpole seeks Gale’s, and upon confirming that they’re aware it’s just Astarion exiting the room, he slips out and closes the door behind him.

“She almost ready?” Wyll whispers, tweaking some of the garlands over the mantle as Lae’zel places little rocks in each sock. She’d been far too amused at the prospect of coal for naughty behavior, and had been adamant that none of them deserved candy and would all get a piece each to keep them in perspective. He has to admit, it is a little amusing.

“Getting dressed- should be any moment-” Just as the word leaves his mouth, the door behind him opens and he steps to the side with his heart in his throat.

She’s completely silent, hair brushed into soft waves laying down her back, proper attire donning her body save for the slippers on her feet, and they all hold their breath as her gaze sweeps over the room.

“Hu-huh…?” She mumbles, breath catching, and he watches intently as moisture begins to bead in the corners of her eyes. They all exchange glances, frozen in anticipation, before her hands cover her mouth and she starts to sob. “You guys? Are you serious?”

“Merry Christmas!” Most of them chant- Astarion forgets, Minthara’s nose is buried in a fragrant chardonnay but she tilts the glass in acknowledgement- and they all rush her before he has a chance to dodge them. He’s swept up in Karlach’s large wingspan as she tucks them together and squeezes until white blotches dot his vision, yet the delight from Ofelia keeps him from complaining too loudly about it. Mostly.

She turns to him between embraces, eyes round and soft, and his chest goes tight as he offers her a smile reserved for no other but her. It’s sweet when she returns it- steals the breath he doesn’t need from his lungs, and when she goes to pull him in she clings to him and whispers little reverent ‘I love you’s into his ear as if he’d hung the moon itself. Pride and affection blooms within, and he presses kisses to the side of her head where the others can’t see, though he wouldn’t mind if they did. He’s long past the notion of hiding his feelings for her. From himself or otherwise.

They push her into the best seat- one the others usually fight over- and Karlach excitedly pulls gifts from the pile to start passing around. Astarion’s gift to her is tucked behind the tree and hidden- saving the best for last. Hopefully. No, he’s confident.

Ofelia laughs at the coal in the sock, munches on fudge from the bakery near the entrance to the upper city, enjoys the books Gale’s gifted her and the plush dog that Lia had sewn and stuffed. She remarks about the lights, face brighter than he’s ever seen it, and forces Minthara into a tight hug and kiss on her plum cheeks as Ofelia clutches the necklace adorned with a single ruby charm and spider etched into its stone. The drow protests and growls in annoyance, but it’s all really just for show. Once turned away, she smiles into her cup and quickly clears her throat afterward.

They all offer her small trinkets or treats, and he’s content to just sit and watch, but he’s swept up by the spirit of it all as he opens small packages with his name on it. A silver pocket watch from Shadowheart, a silken kerchief from Wyll, a new scabbard for his dagger in dark leather from Lae’zel. He’d not expected anything, even vehemently enunciated that this is for her, not him, but despite his claims it seems no one listened to him. What else is new?

“That’s it!” Karlach proclaims from beside the tree, tossing candy and pastries in her mouth by the fistful as the others sip on warm beverages or partake in alcohol around the heat of the fire. His eyes go to the frosted window, the entire city covered in a blanket of white. He decides, for the first time, that it looks much better this way.

“You didn’t get anything for Ofelia?” Gale asks, and Astarion’s hackles raise as he feels the ire rise and claim the atmosphere.

“I saved the best for last,” He stands with a flourish, calming the mood before his head ends up on a pike. “Besides, who went to all this trouble?”

“Don’t take all the credit!” Shadowheart snaps and he smiles as he turns his back to them, going behind the tree to pluck his gift from beneath an alcove in the wall. His eyes linger over shiny red paper- this, at least, he'd stolen. For a moment, he hesitates. His fingers wrap around it, her name glaring back, and he wonders if this will be good enough. He'd seen everyone's carefully thought out gifts, hells, had even managed to hit the nail on its head a few times for the others. But Ofelia? She's the one he needs to get right. Above all else, he can't fail.

He steels himself and turns, each step towards her smiling face making him question the object in his outstretched hand, and when she takes it he stands stiff and still- making no move to breathe or blink or talk. She gingerly unwraps it at the seams, her pulse racing in his ears as she continues to pry back the paper, and he watches her stop as a soft breath vacates her lungs.

“Star…” It feels as if a century passes before his eyes when she finally speaks, pulling the dagger from the paper to hold up and admire. The metal flashes, light glancing off the engraving near the hilt- one she speaks in hushed tones as if in prayer.

“Nin anor,” Her lips shape around the elegant script as if she's painting it in the air, and once it's hanging around them he knows it's right. Knows it's right in the way she looks at him, in the way the sun, through a break in the clouds, casts a golden glow around her. It breaks on her skin and sinks in, frames her like it did that day in the sand, that day he'd first tasted freedom. The first day he'd met her and had heard her heart quicken beneath the sharp edge of his blade- the blade she now cradles in her hands.

Purpose, like a compulsion, stole his mind the moment chisel met steel. Illuminated by candles, he'd carved in elvish the words he's said to her over and over, again and again. Against her lips as he makes love to her, into the crown of her head as he pulls her into an embrace. Softly, against her forearm as she returned to herself enough to let go of his neck and fight the urge…

“My sun…” He breathes back, and she's out of the chair faster than he can blink. With a laugh that's no more than a huff, he wraps his arms around her and squeezes back, smiles as she laughs and sniffles and sighs.

“I love you,” It's quiet against his ear, and a barely perceptible shiver trembles through his limbs in reply. He'd been worried for nothing, and that's cemented further when she pulls back and the grin on her face renders him speechless.

“A knife? You got her a knife?” Karlach asks, bewildered, and the tension in his limbs falls away when Ofelia looks at him and laughs. This time, he doesn't fight the impulse to join her and it's freeing and juvenile, but worth the joy it brings.

***

“It's the one he threatened me with when we first met,” Ofelia smiles as she finishes off her plate of roast meats, fresh greens and potatoes. She pushes it towards the center of the table, leaning back in the chair as she admires the way the fire looks as it dances in his crimson eyes. He's beautiful, and her heart slams into her ribs like it's trying to break free- that look he gives her never failing to stir an ache in her chest that feels like it consumes just as much as it grows.

“Hmmm… and how is that romantic?” Gale asks around the cookie in his mouth. Ofelia chuckles at his muffled words, about to speak when Minthara beats her to it.

“Is it not provocative to feel the sting of your lover's blade against your skin? The dance between pleasure and pain, the testament of your trust in them not to supply too much pressure lest they end your life?” Gale swallows thickly, stiffening when the drow places her hand on his arm. “If you do not understand, I will show you tonight, wizard.”

Their group laughs, partaking in drinks that almost remind Ofelia of home. Something that tastes like hot chocolate fills her belly as Astarion holds her close, swaying softly to the music that pours from Ofelia's speaker- an old favorite.

“Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow,” She murmurs against his shoulder, echoing the melody as he squeezes her hips.

“You liked your gift?” His voice is quiet- almost shy. Her arms circle him tighter, letting him guide her through the room as their companions slowly start to filter off to bed. The entire day had been like a dream- a perfect, beautiful reprieve from pain or worry. Something rare and sweet- sorely missed in the years since and filling the empty hole in her heart with so much that it almost hurts to contain. Family. Love.

“I'll cherish it forever, Star,” She smiles, pulling away to stroke her fingers over his cheek. It's cool beneath them, and his smile is relaxed as it spreads over his face. She bumps the door frame to their room with a soft laugh and his gaze lifts up above her head, causing her to redirect hers and stop almost disbelievingly over green leaves and white berries.

“There weren't any red,” He hums softly, but her throat is dry and her ears are filled with cotton when she looks back at him. Moonlight turns his hair to silver and his skin to marble, and as she looks at him and watches him lean closer, she's not sure if she'll ever deserve the affection he now presses to her lips.

Hands tangle in her long hair, chest to chest, the taste of wine on his tongue- her stomach clenches in fear of the future, of losing it all, of making a mistake or failing to free them from the brain. All of it looms like a dark cloud, trying to swallow her whole, but then he's pushing them into the room, shutting their door and latching it. He's driving her back, legs folding until she's forced to collapse onto the mattress, heat pooling in her belly low and needy when he goes to push her sweater up over her head.

“I feel bad I didn't get anyone else a gift,” She whispers and he snorts, discarding his shirt onto the floor as he starts to untie the shirt barring him from further access.

“Anyone else? What did you get me?” She laughs when he stops, frozen at the sight beneath her clothes.

“I got these a few days ago… was going to at least do this since I couldn't get presents or decorate.” His irises narrow into thin lines between the enlarging of his pupils, gaze dragging down her form as he tugs her pants down and off. Ribbons and lace, scarlet and black, cradle her breasts and expose the underside of them while big red bows conceal her nipples. Her underwear leaves nothing to the imagination, either, and his lips part around a raw hum of appreciation when he discovers with his eyes the way the fabric conveniently vanishes beneath the waistband.

“Gods…” It's brittle and needy and she smiles wickedly when his clothes fall to the floor.

“Unwrap me?” She whispers.

“Yes,” He breathes.

She laughs as his fingers find give on the bows and he pulls them apart, mouth chasing his touch as he pushes her thighs back and sinks inside. She sobs his name as he sets a feverish pace, mind nothing but foggy desire and heady affection. Affection for him, for this, for them. She clings to him like her life depends on it, canting her hips in time with his, every sensation as intense and lovely like she's experiencing it for the first time.

She leans in and kisses his ear, revels in the shivers that shake through his body when she tightens her grip. They're teetering over the edge, now- drawing to a close. But even so, she knows it won't be the end. Not when she's right where she's supposed to be.

Like the phantoms of quivering tree limbs, the warmth of the sand beneath her body, the flash of a blade while rubies danced in her vision she feels him. Feels him in every pore, every beat of her heart as he meets her eyes and opens his mouth to speak. Soft and full of promises they never knew were made that day on the beach.

“Nin anor,”

#merry xmas!!!#bg3 #astarion fluff #astarion fanfic #bg3 christmas #christmas fic

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wistfulwanderingone · 2 days ago

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Mistletoe Mischief

Fandom: Ikemen Prince

Characters: Clavis Lelouch, Cassandra (OC); (Clavis X OC story AU)

Summary: Clavis wouldn't be Clavis without a little Christmas mischeive up his sleeve. Merrry Christmas to you all! @dododrawsstuff Drew this for me as a kofi award...and holy crap every time I see it or even THINK about it I start squealing and hyperventilating all over again! So I HAAAAAAD to write the story to go with it!! Thank you so much, Dodo, I am so in love with this I may never recover! I hope you enjoy the story inspired by your talents!

Mistletoe Mischief

The palace glimmered with Christmas cheer, golden candlelight spilling over garlands of evergreen and shimmering ornaments. The sweet undertone of spiced cider mixed with pine wrapped the grand hall in festive warmth. Clavis lingered in the doorway, drinking in the scene, but his gaze settled—not on the towering tree—but on her.

Cassandra.

She stood before the grand fireplace, humming a melody so soft it seemed to thread itself into the distant carolers’ harmonies. The emerald green of her dress caught the firelight, shifting gracefully as she moved, her milk-chocolate hair illuminated in golden hues. She wasn’t merely decorating; it was as though her presence completed the room’s warmth.

Clavis leaned against the doorframe, the faint smile on his lips betraying his thoughts. She had no idea of the picture she made—the firelight painting her skin with gold, her expression serene. He stayed silent, drawn in by the effortless elegance that seemed uniquely hers.

He let this gaze linger, savoring her like the first sip of mulled wine—heady, rich, and impossible to forget. She looked like she had stepped out of one of the palace’s holiday tapestries, a muse conjured from legend. And yet she was undeniably real—capable of unraveling his carefully constructed composure with her mere presence.

But, silence had never been his strong-suit.

“Ah, Lady Cassandra,” he drawled, breaking the fragile stillness like the snap of a frost-laden branch. “Still fussing over perfection, even at Christmas? Such diligence is truly inspiring.”

Her hand froze mid-reach toward a bauble, the soft hum dying on her lips. Slowly, she turned, her green eyes meeting his, wide with surprise for a fleeting second before narrowing in mock suspicion. The shift in her expression—so clever, so practiced—did not escape him, nor did the faint bloom of color in her cheeks before she masked it with the sharp arch of a brow. It was a dance he adored, her composure faltering just enough to reveal the cracks before she smoothed them away.

“Clavis. And here I thought Christmas miracles didn’t exist,” she said, her voice smooth, though it carried that delicious note of faux exasperation. It spurred him on, her ability to challenge him as compelling as ever.

Hand to his chest, he straightened with all the pomp and flourish of a man convinced of his own grandeur. “My darling Christmas Enchantress! Whatever could you mean by that?”

Her brow arched higher in that elegant, infuriating way of hers, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips—he could see it in the way her mouth fought to remain poised. “That you’ve managed to resist causing chaos for an entire morning.” Her tone was tinged with a wry humor that matched the sparkle in her eyes and her gaze didn’t falter, steady and sharp, daring him to respond. “Surely, that’s miraculous.”

Her words hit like a perfectly placed jab, light but pointed, and he smirked.

She stepped closer, her movements as graceful as a snowflake’s descent. The faint scent of pine and something sweet—vanilla, perhaps—drifting in her wake. “Are you feeling ill?” she teased, raising her hand toward his forehead.

He caught her wrist gently, his gloved fingers curling around hers with just enough pressure to halt her movement. Tilting his head, he met her gaze, his smirk laced with playful defiance.

Up close, she was even more radiant. The firelight kissed her cheekbones, her blush deepening under his scrutiny. She didn’t pull away—she never did. Her poise held, but he caught the faint shift in her breath all the same.

“Right as rain,” he murmured, his voice smooth and teasing. His thumb grazed lightly over her wrist, a subtle test, and he relished the deepening color in her cheeks. “Just saving up my energy for future shenanigans. Chaos, dearie, is the spice of life. Without it, the world would be dreadfully dull.”

It unsettled him—how right it felt to remain close, to study the way her blush bloomed or the way her lashes swept down as her composure wavered for the briefest of moments. He felt a strange reluctance to step back, as though some invisible thread kept him tethered to her.

“And,” he continued, his voice softening into a velvet trap, “I know you adore my chaos more than anything.”

Her green eyes flickered, and she turned back to the tree. Her hand twitched against the tree’s branch, her gaze darting for a heartbeat before finding his again.

“I wouldn’t say adore,” she murmured at last, her voice quieter, the word heavy with meaning she wasn’t ready to name. “But…” Her lips curved into a small, hesitant smile that struck him more than it should, “your chaos does make things much more enjoyable.” Her smile was unguarded, warm in a way that disarmed him as nothing else could.

He laughed inwardly. Enjoyable? Chaos was meant to provoke, to unearth reactions like this. Yet, as he watched her, he realized something strange: it wasn’t about the reaction this time. It was about her—how she turned an ordinary moment into something richer, brighter, something that felt like an unexpected gift he hadn’t known he wanted.

“Just don’t let it go to your head, Clavis,” she teased lightly.

He leaned closer, his voice dropping conspiratorially. “Too late, my Candy-Cane-Charmer,” he said softly, savoring the way she bit her lip as she gazed at him. “You’ve just made my Christmas.”

He stepped back, twirling on his heel with theatrical ease, though he cast her a quick glance over his shoulder. “And now, allow me to make yours.” His hand slid into his pocket, mischief glinting in his golden eyes. “As it happens, I’ve come bearing…shenanigans.”

Her expression shifted instantly. Oh, how he adored that look—the perfect mix of curiosity, intrigue, and suspicion that meant she was already trying to figure out his plans.

“So I should be concerned then,” she said flatly.

He sighed, pressing a gloved hand to his heart with mock despair. “My dear, when have I ever given you cause for concern?”

Her brow arched, her green eyes narrowing as her lips curved into a teasing smile. “Do you want the list alphabetically or chronologically?”

Her wit landed, sharp and precise, and Clavis couldn’t suppress the laugh that escaped him. It was a rich, unrestrained sound, filled with the joy that always seemed to be within him when he was in her presence. Her cleverness never failed to delight him, but tonight, there was something especially magnetic about her confidence.

“Such wit,” he said, his voice warmer now. “It’s no wonder you keep me hopelessly captivated.”

Her eyes narrowed further, her suspicion deepening even as her cheeks flushed. “What are you plotting this time?” she asked, folding her arms as she tilted her head.

He feigned a wounded look, his lips falling into an exaggerated pout. “Plotting? My dear Lady Bellerose, you wound me. Can I not simply spread a little holiday cheer without suspicion?”

“Cheer?” Her green eyes narrowed, glittering like frost-kissed emeralds. “Somehow, I doubt that’s your true motive.”

Clavis clicked his tongue, a sound both dismissive and playful, before withdrawing a sprig of mistletoe from his pocket with a flourish. The sprig twirled slowly between his fingers, the movement deliberately slow to draw her gaze. “This time, my intentions are purely traditional.”

Her lips parted slightly, a faint inhale giving away the smallest crack in her composure. Clavis leaned in, close enough for her to feel the shift in the air between them, his gaze steady, watching her reaction as though it were the only thing in the room.

“Clavis,” she said, her voice lower now, tinged with cautious wariness, like someone stepping into uncharted territory. “What exactly do you plan to do with that?”

“Only what any gentleman would do,” he replied smoothly, lifting the mistletoe above them with a devilish grin. “This is a Christmas tradition, after all. Mistletoe, you see, is meant to inspire a kiss.”

He let the words hang between them, savoring the tension as her gaze flicked between him and the mistletoe, her stance wavering as though deciding whether to retreat or advance. That moment of indecision, the rare vulnerability she allowed to surface, was intoxicating.

“A kiss?” she breathed, her voice honey-sweet. “On the cheek?”

“Perish the thought.” His smirk widened, golden eyes glinting with challenge as he hovered the mistletoe just above them. “It must be on the lips. Tradition demands it.”

He braced himself for the usual dance—the flustered protests, perhaps even an attempt to evade him, a little game of cat and mouse. After all, this was their usual rhythm—his provocation, her guarded yet clever response.

What he didn’t expect was for her to smile. It wasn’t the demure curve of lips she wore at court, nor the teasing smirk she saved for their verbal sparring matches. No, this smile was…different.

“Oh, Clavis,” she said, her tone dripping with feigned innocence, “I think you’ve underestimated me.”

And before he could so much as blink, she rose on her toes and pressed her lips to his.

The warmth of her lips stole every waggish retort, every ounce of composure he’d so carefully maintained. For all his sharp wit, for all his readiness to outmaneuver, he was utterly unprepared for the boldness of her action—not because it was unlike her, but because it felt so deliberate, so sure. For the first time in years, he was the one left reeling.

She wasn’t playing his game; she was rewriting it.

Her hand rested lightly against his chest, steadying herself as though the boldness of her action had surprised even her. When she pulled back, her green eyes sparkled, her cheeks kissed by a blush that only deepened her radiance. But her satisfied smile was a sight he’d never forget.

“Thank you for the lesson, Clavis,” she said, her voice calm and steady despite the warmth in her cheeks. “Did I execute the tradition properly?”

He blinked, the mistletoe still suspended in his hand as if frozen mid-scheme. For once, words failed him. For a fleeting second, he stood still utterly disarmed, his golden eyes wide with something that teetered between shock and admiration.

Then, slowly, as if recovering from a pleasant jolt, his grin returned—slower, sharper, and edged with something warmer than mischief. “My captivating enchantress,” he murmured, his voice low and smooth, “is far more enchanting than I even realized. You’ve made this Christmas unforgettable.”

She laughed softly, a sound that melted into the firelight as she turned as if to leave. “Good. Now, if you’ll excuse me—”

“Not so fast,” he interrupted, his grin sharpening into its usual wicked curve as he leaned forward, golden eyes glinting with renewed determination. “You’ve just declared war, my Merry Muse. I’ll need a rematch. Same time, same place next year?”

Her laugh rang out, bright and teasing, like the chiming of distant bells. “Only if you bring better bait next time.”

He chuckled, his gaze lingering on her as she returned to the tree. Turning the mistletoe in his fingers, his smirk softened as he gazed at her.

She had outplayed him. Completely, effortlessly. And yet, as he watched her, he realized he didn’t mind.

“Oh, Cassandra,” he whispered under his breath, the words a private confession he wouldn’t dare share aloud. “You’ve made the game worth playing.”

With a final grin, he pocketed the mistletoe and stepped back into the shadows of the hallway, already planning his next move. She was, after all, a riddle wrapped in a holiday ribbon, and Clavis, for all his cleverness, found himself hopelessly drawn to the unraveling.

#ikemen prince #ikemen prince clavis #clavis lelouch #ikemen clavis #Cassandra Bellarose #Clavis x Cassandra #Clavis x OC #Merry Christmas!#Christmas romance #christmas fanfic

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viktorpartner · 8 months ago

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Haven't been able to think about anything other than the victorian/edwardian/WW1 twink and his 80's punk almost-boyfriend for a week, send help

#this tv show has consumed my every thought #it's like tumblr catnip #go watch it #it will eat away at your brain #there's also a butch lesbian butcher #an autistic manga loving weirdo (my beloved)#and a badass psychic who's also a mess #WHAT MORE COULD YOU POSSIBLY WANT?#updating the post bc the reblogs lead me on a WILD wiki rabbit hole about the eras of England #okay so Edwin is born in 1900 which means he was born 1 year before the end of the Victorian era (1837-1901) so technically he's a victoria #baby who lived his childhood in the Edwardian era (1901-1910) and his teens in the pre/start of WW1 era (started in 1914)#until he was killed :( in 1916 #so my boy here lived though MANY historical events and time periods #shout out to my victorian/edwardian/WW1 twink #history is very fun and this is why i love this website bc where else would i have to do research for my blorbo?#I do however find it very funny if Gaiman named him Edwin in honour of the Edwardian time period he grew up in #I love that man and it wouldn't surprise me if he turned out to be a history nerd (affectionate) like the rest of you #dead boy detectives #edwin payne #charles rowland #crystal palace #niko dbd #dbd #please feel free to dm me about history i adore it

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sysig · 8 months ago

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Last man standing (Patreon)

#Doodles #SCII #Damned #ZEX #It's lonely at the top :(#Poor dearest is worse for wear ah </3 #This scene made me cry ;;#Like it was sad when he wrote down his missing canonmates but going back in and writing everyone else's names ;;;;#Even his shaky alliances! Even the people he hasn't seen for a while!! Wehhh <3 <3 <3 #You soft heart ;; I see you Admiral ♥#Also had a lot of fun writing in VUK ZIX again hehe ♪#The translations from VUK ZIX to English aren't exact - for starters they're upside down haha #So if you started from the top down it would actually read KINLEZ NATPAK but I figured that wouldn't be as readable #You read from the bottom up! I also still headcanon it being written/read from left to right #So he started with Zelnick then Fwiffo then Tanaka and so on #Although I did change it up for the second one - Teisel then Xelloss then Xigbar then Asch and Van #The more I think of it the more I'm surprised there's no H :0 #Even just as a demarcation of a pause before during or after a syllable #The ''sh'' sound makes complete sense tho hehe <3 #Any incorrect shaping of letters/poor handwriting on my part can totally be chalked up to ZEX not being used to human hands!#Totallyyy lol #I really like the way specific syllables are shaped - like how Teisel and Zelnick almost share the same shaped between ''SEL'' and ''ZEL''#How Z is a more connected extension of S just agh it's so pretty <3 <3 Eco_Mono really did such a lovely job with it ♪#And then certain ''incorrectly'' spelled syllables still turned out so pretty! Like the ''ANA'' in Talana - look how swoopy and continuous!#The ''BAR'' in Xigbar looks really cool - honestly reminds me of the fanweapons I made ages ago for I? think? Xigbar's apprentice??#It's been too long I don't remember now lol but it's cool to me in particular because of that!! :D #Fwiffo looks so funny haha - Tanaka has a cool star-like kind of letter in his name?? Man it's just so neat <3 #As for ZEX - I mean he made it this far :( Not one to give up easily that's for certain ♥ Tenacious #I want him to be happy :'0

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s0dium · 5 months ago

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I fucking hate him

A/n: One of the dialogues is lightly taken from "God of Ruin" by Rina Kentaken (plz check it out) Enjoy!!

Word count: 3.5k

Synopsis: You detest Yuji's uncle, Sukuna. His demeanor is rude and abrasive, and he is undoubtedly a sadist. You don't even try to hide your disdain, but the more you try to distance yourself from him, the stronger his opposition grows. Each attempt to push him away only seems to draw him in closer, closer, ever so close.

"You're fucking insufferable," you spat, your eyes narrowing with hatred. "You're pretentious," Sukuna shot back, a smug grin tugging at the corner of his mouth." No, you're a narcissist," you hiss" Yeah, but I turn you on," he purrs

Warning: Hate sex, rough sex, biting, fingering, edging, cowgirl, size kink, breeding, unprotected sex, slight voyeurism, breeding

You remember the day you met Sukuna for the first time like it was yesterday.

It was during the somber occasion of Wasuke Itadori's funeral—Yuji's beloved grandfather. The day was draped in a heavy sorrow; after the ceremony and the lowering of the casket, you followed the Itadori family back to their home. Being practically family yourself, and living just next door, it felt natural to join them and if not grieve, support the grieving family alongside them. While everyone gathered in the garden, sharing hushed memories and quiet support, you slipped inside the house to charge your phone.

As you stepped into the room, the air felt suddenly charged, like the prelude to a storm. There in the living room, was a man, a large man, lounging on one of the sofas dressed in a black suit and tie. The first thing you notice is his striking pink hair contrasting sharply with the dark, intricate tattoos that crawl up his neck and frame his face. His eyes, sharp and unyielding, fix on you the moment you enter, and his smirk is like a crack in a mask of indifference.

"You must be the famous dear friend of the family, Y/n right?" he drawls, his voice as smooth as silk and just as dangerous. "Heard a lot about you. All good things, I promise." His voice drips with sarcasm making you thickly gulp.

You hesitate by the doorway, your initial smile freezing on your lips. This was the Sukuna Ryomen? The man you'd heard only in hushed conversations between Jin and Choso, the man Yuji calls his uncle? You try to muster your composure, crossing the room to stand at a respectable distance.

"I wish I could say the same," you reply, aiming for polite but firm. Your voice wavers just slightly.

Sukuna chuckles, a sound that rumbles deep in his chest. "Oh, come now. No need for such defenses. I'm not the monster they painted in their tales. Or perhaps I am, and that's what intrigues you? What do you think so far" he bends forward. "Am I intriguing?"

You bristle at his words, the arrogance dripping from each syllable like poison. "I-I dont know about that." You curse yourself at the way your voice comes out as a stutter. "I'm here out of respect for your family."

"Respect," he repeats, tasting the word as if it's something exotic. "Funny, I never put much stock in that. The old man sure tried to teach me, shame he is gone. But perhaps you'll teach me its value?"

What the hell does he mean by that?

He stands suddenly, closing the distance between you with a few measured steps. You can’t help but step back, your back hitting the wall. His presence is overwhelming, suffocating.

"Why so tense?" Sukuna teases, leaning close, his breath ghosting over your cheek. "I'm just trying to get to know you better. After all, anyone who loves my family must have some redeeming qualities, hidden though they may be. Although," he tilts his head, as if analyzing you. "I wouldn't be surprised if they just kept you around cause you're a pretty thing to look at."

You feel a flush of anger and embarrassment heating your cheeks. "I think you've gotten to know enough for one day," you snap, ducking under his arm and striding toward the door. His laughter follows you, low and mocking.

"Oh, don't be like that!" he calls out. "We're just getting started!"

It only took a minute. One minute for you to decide that you hated Sukuna with a fucking passion.

Unfortunately, the fact that Sukuna had just gotten out of jail, did nothing to hamper your hatred. It seemed like ever since he got out, he was not only determined to stick to the family, but to you, like glue.

The Friday night dinners with the Itadori family, once cherished and loved, had practically turned into a battleground. What used to be a warm gathering was now filled with endless teasing and arrogant attempts at flirting. You were even hesitant to stay over now, as you were never to sure when you’d turn a corner and there Sukuna would be with some sleazy remark about your pajamas.

You tried talking to the Itadori family about it, tried complaining to Jin and raise your concerns. And as receptive and understanding as they were, you knew that for them, blood was thicker than anything, and in some part, you knew that applied to you too.

Still, you persisted, even now as you sat at another Friday dinner you were determined to just enjoy yourself with the family you loved so much.

Key word, tried.

"Well, Jin, I must say, this food is... quaint.” He says through a chuckle and you have to bite the inside of your cheek from throwing a fork at him right there and then. “Did you burn it on purpose, or was that just a happy accident?"

"Dude," You breathe a sigh of relief when Choso speaks up, his voice calm but firm. "Can you go one day without being a jerk?" His eyes are fixed on Sukuna, echoing the frustration you both share about his behavior. This solidarity is one of the reasons why you feel closest to Choso in the family. His understanding and shared grievances with the insufferable man were one of the reasons why you two were best friends.

"Please, I bet this food beats anything you had in prison." You whisper under your breath, but audibly enough that others catch it when you hear Choso breathe through his nose in a laugh-like snort.

Sukuna sets down his silverware and leans forward with a grin, his eyebrows raised in amusement as he gazes across the table at you. "Oh, someone's got a sharp tongue," he remarks. "Careful, angel, you might cut yourself."

You roll your eyes and sharply cross your arms. "Funny, coming from someone who probably had to beg for scraps behind bars. Do you even know what real food tastes like?"

You don’t miss the way Yuji chokes on his pasta, stifling back laughter making you smile.

Sukuna's lips curve into a sly smirk as he locks eyes with you. "Oh trust me, I've tasted a lot of things. But I guess you wouldn't understand, being so... sheltered."

Unfazed, you shoot back with a dismissive wave of your hand, "Sheltered? Please. At least I don’t need to rely on prison slop to remind me of home."

This time, Sukuna's response is a silent, piercing stare that makes you shift uncomfortably in your seat. Even though you were wearing a sweater and shorts, his gaze made you feel like you were naked.

From the corner, Jin clears his throat, chuckling nervously. "Um, maybe we should all just calm down a bit—"

You cut him off, your voice firm as you defend the meal laid out before you. “No way, not when he disrespects your food, which is great, may I add.”

"Oh, I love it when you get all fired up." Sukuna's eyes glint with mischief as he watches your rising frustration. "It's adorable."

Feeling the heat rush to your cheeks, you stand up abruptly, pushing your chair back with a scrape. "Excuse me, I think I'm full," you declare crisply, gathering your dishes with a clatter and storming off to the kitchen to dump them in the sink. Without a backward glance, you stride toward the living room, your footsteps echoing your irritation.

"Come on, why do you always gotta be such an ass, Uncle?" Yuji mumbles, shooting a glare at Sukuna who only responds with a shrug.

As you sank into the couch cushions, you let out a deep sigh of relief, your body sinking into the familiar comfort of your favorite spot. You turned on the TV, dazedly watching whatever was on, trying to distract yourself from the day's tensions. Of course, thoughts of Sukuna kept creeping into your mind. What was his problem with you? Did the man get dropped on the head as a baby? How and the hell were he and Jin brothers?? Surely he was the result of some fucked up science experiment.

Engulfed in your thoughts, the passage of time slipped unnoticed until a shift in the couch's cushion snapped you back to reality. You turned, and -

Oh what the fuck.

Sukuna settled next to you, leaning on the armrest of the other side of the couch, a tattooed hand settled on his thigh, He had changed into a white tank top and sweatpants, and you feel your heart jump when your eyes unconsciously travel to between his leg where a slight budge pressed against the fabric. Shit. The tips of your ears turned red and you bit the inside of your cheek. That's another thing you loathed about Sukuna; how the scent of his old spice shampoo made you dizzy, how the way he towered over you made your breathing stop, how despite how fucking insufferable he was, he was so so so attractive.

"What the hell are you doing here?" you choked out, your tone edged with disbelief and irritation.

Sukuna raised an eyebrow, unfazed. "What does it look like? Watching TV," he replied coolly, his eyes briefly scanning the screen before settling back on you. "Everyone's gone to sleep, you know."

"No, what are you doing sitting next to me?" you hissed, the proximity suddenly feeling far too close despite the physical distance. Your eyes narrowed, locking onto his vermillion eyes.

"Why you afraid I'll bite?" He says, gnashing his teeth together in a teasing display before moving closer to you. "Don't worry, I only bite when I'm asked."

"S-stop talking to me like that," you say, trying to shuffle back, but find yourself already trapped against the armrest.

"Like what?" Sukuna's voice is teasing, almost playful.

"Like I'm your toy."

He tilts his head slightly and leans forward, a smirk playing at his lips. "More like my doll."

"More like your grim reaper. I'll slice your throat if you touch me," you retort sharply, the tension between you crackling. You watch the way his eyes rake over you like a porn magazine, making you cross your arms as if to shield yourself.

He laughs, a sound rich with amusement. "You're such a menace. I want to gobble you up."

As he inches closer, the scent of his shampoo fills the air—a fragrance so intoxicating you want to bury your nose in it, yet you resist. "I'll give you indigestion, asshole," you snap, trying to maintain your composure.

"Worth it, muse," he counters smoothly, his eyes locking onto yours.

"Sure you're going to be thinking about that when I punch you in the face?"

"Oh, and make me bleed? Blood?" He licks his lips. "Yum." He feigns shock, leaning even closer. "You just keep ticking all my boxes today. Did you do your research on me?"

"Not even if you were the last man alive," you choke out, his proximity overwhelming, his face just inches from yours now. A slight move, and your noses would brush against each other.

"Last man to everyone else? No. To you? Highly likely." His whisper is a taunt, his breath a warm tease against your skin.

That's it.

As you attempt to rise from the couch, Sukuna's large hand swiftly lands on your thigh, pressing just firmly enough to guide you back down onto the cushion. You react instinctively, trying to swat his hand away, but he's quicker; he catches both of your wrists in his grasp, holding them gently yet with an unyielding firmness.

"What the hell are you doing?" you demand, your voice sharp with alarm and a flare of anger, your eyes locked intensely on his, searching for an explanation in his steady gaze.

"Jesus christ Y/n" Sukuna groans, rolling his eyes, "How long are we going to keep this thing of ours going?"

You furrowed your eyebrows. “Our thing? What thing?”

“The thing where we act like we hate each other but actually want to fuck the brains out of each other.” He chuckles.

Your eyes widen and you feel your face grow deathly hot. You try to step back, and get some space, some room to breathe, but the hand on your wrist keeps you from doing so.

“I-fuck you” The words come out of your mouth more soft and meager than you intended to, and you find yourself locked into his blue gaze.

“Believe me, I've thought about it.” His voice is low, and his face isn't painted with a shit-eating grin like it so usually is, he's serious and stern. You stay silent as you watch him examine your face. He leans in, close enough to kiss you, raises his right hand and runs his finger tips down your face.

"Will you bite my tongue if I kiss you?"

"Maybe"

Sukuna's mouth crashes onto yours, hard, angry, and demanding. He doesn't even give you a chance to resist, not even a breath. His lips are fierce against yours, stealing every breath you try to take. Your hands instinctively move to push him away, but instead, you find yourself gripping his shirt, pulling him closer.

You meet his aggression with equal force, your lips moving furiously against his. His hands cup your face roughly, holding you in place as his tongue demands entry. You respond with a whine, opening up to him, your tongues tangling in a heated dance.

Every kiss is a challenge, every touch a dare. You bite his lower lip, drawing a groan from him that vibrates through you. His hands slide down to your waist, pulling you flush against him. The intensity of the moment leaves you breathless, hot, and angry.

Your fingers thread through his hair, tugging sharply as if to remind him you won't be dominated easily. He retaliates by pressing you harder against the cushions, so you have no choice but to melt into him.

In one swift motion, Sukuna pulls back just enough to yank his shirt over his head, revealing muscles lined with black tattoos beneath. Before you can even take a breath, he’s back, his mouth claiming yours with renewed fervor. His hands move to your shirt, fingers pulling at the fabric of your sweater. You break the kiss for a mere second as he tugs your shirt off, then he dives back in, his lips crashing against yours with a hunger that makes your head spin.

His hands roam over your newly exposed skin, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. Your breath hitches as his fingers find the waistband of your pants. He undoes them with a practiced ease, pushing them down and leaving you in just underwear and bra, feeling vulnerable and exposed.

"W-what do you think you're doing?" you stutter, trying to maintain some semblance of control.

"What does it look like I'm doing?" he replies, his voice low and filled with a wicked amusement.

He leans in, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispers, "I'm gonna fuck you." His hands slide over your hips, pulling your pants down completely, and you shiver at the sensation of his touch.

You whine when he places his knee between your legs which pushes against your clothed crotch. You involuntarily buck up your hips to try and gain more friction, making Sukuna chuckle; his shit eating grin widening.

“Needy, arent you?”

Your instinct is to tell him to fuck off, but he is already hooking a finger under your pastel pink panties; pulling the material down to reveal your cunt. You mentally curse yourself at the fact that you're already wet, a fact that will sure to swell Sukuna's ego.

Your hands fly down to hide yourself but he swats them away, giving you a glare before sliding a finger up and down your wet slit; collecting the juices before pushing a digit into your tight hole.

"S-shit." your groan, and the moment you clench around him, a sickening grin spreads across his tattooed face.

"Always knew you where gonna feel great around me."

The first curl of his fingers knocks the wind out of you, as it hits the sweet spot inside of you that you could only dream to reach on your own.

“Hah~ I cant-” You whimper, stomach clenching and legs trembling from the pleasure. You want to say you hate this, tell him to get off of you but you can't, you can't even think straight. You even push your hips out, angling them so his digits reach deeper into that sweet spot that sends tendrils of electricity through your body. But before you can fully bask in the pleasure, before you can taste your orgasm on your tongue, he pulls his fingers out.

"You think I'm gonna let you cum so early? After all the shit you have pulled?" His hand flies to your throat wrapping around it with a force that belies the strength behind it. Your breath hitches, a strange mix of fear and exhilaration coursing through your veins. His touch is firm, and commanding, but there’s an undeniable pleasure in the way his fingers tighten slightly, reminding you of the power he holds.

"Nah no way." Sukuna chuckles "Your just gonna have to suck it up."

You try to speak, but his grip tightens just enough to cut off your words, leaving you gasping. The pressure on your throat is intoxicating, a strange pleasure mingling with the discomfort. You can feel your pulse throbbing under his hand. You are so dazed that you don’t even notice he has pulled out his dick until you feel something big pressing against your entrance, making you look down and your eyes widen as you do so.

You’re about to open your mouth to say something, what, you do not know, but all of a sudden Sukuna pushes his dick into you until his hips are flushed against yours. It feels like you're being split in two, and the way his tip smushes against your cervix makes you unable to find your breath. The unfamiliar feeling has you squirming and clenching around his cock; body desperately trying to push out the foreign intrusion.

“Shit you gotta loosen up doll, cant fuck you like this.” There were veins popping on his temple as he started to rub tight circles on your clit. Bolts of pleasure shoot up your body, and you desperately try to relax your body.

“Atta girl” He coos, withdrawing his hips before slamming into your.

The first thrust completely knocks the wind out of you. The collision with your gspot has you arching your back of the couch; eyes screwed shut and letting out a loud moan. He's girth spread you so well, so much, and the friction was so delicious, tears blotted your eyesight. Your skin is buzzing, and your entire lower half is shaking from the pleasure. Sukuna's pace is brutal, unforgiving, and he has to grab the arm rest above you with one arm to help his brutal and unforgiving pace into you.

Your mind grows hazy, lost in the sensation of how good he was fucking you, but then, without explanation, a spark of defiance ignites within you. Suddenly, you find the strength to flip him over, his dick not leaving the warmth of your cunt once and so you were effectively laying on top of him, your legs on either side of his body. With your chest flushed against his, and your ass perked up in the air, you begin to fuck yourself on his dick, raising your hips up and down his length as if he was a dildo.

"Oh thats it." Sukuna is not a whining man but here he is, his voice cracking from the feeling and sight of you riding him. "Fuck yourself on me shit shit shit."

You are practically drooling on his chest, your eyes rolling back from how good he felt against your G spot.

You let a whine when you feel yourself start to get tired so Sukuna grabs your hips and starts fucking you on his length.

Fap.Fap.Fap

"Gonna cum in you baby ok?" He murmurs into your ear and you dazedly nod.

Suddenly you feel your stomach dip and your mind go blank. Your mind feels as though it’s been dipped in pure euphoria, thoughts scattering like leaves in the wind, replaced by an overwhelming wave of bliss that drowns out everything else. Your body responds in kind, muscles tensing and releasing in perfect harmony with the pleasure coursing through you. It’s as if every cell is vibrating with delight, your skin tingling with a heightened sensitivity that makes even the slightest touch feel like a divine caress. The heat of the sensation is intoxicating, making your limbs feel weightless as if you’re floating on a cloud of pure, unadulterated joy.

Sukuna is quick to follow, shooting ropes of thick cum that glide down his shaft onto his balls.

"See? We are practically made for each other."

#jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #sukuna smut #sukuna x reader smut #jjk x reader #sukuna x reader

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bunny-jpeg · 7 months ago

Text

"ex" husband

simon "ghost" riley

cw: pwp/smut, ex husband!simon, possessive!simon, dark themes, mirror sex & other smut, major red flags, proceed with caution, bad husband!simon, manipulation

bunny says: once you fuck crazy, you never not fuck crazy

simon didn't believe in divorce. he made a vow to be with you till death, he wasn't going to skimp out on the years you could spend together. he wouldn't accept that you wanted to be without him.

he had you on the floor of your shared bedroom, you were holding onto him behind yourself while his hands were on your hips. he was rubbing his cock up against your slick entrance.

"have you had any other guys over? fuckin' them in my bed, in my home that i paid for?" he held it over your head as he watched your face contort with pleasure. he continued to rub his tip up against your slit.

"no, simon." you panted. your heart raced with every moment that passed. your body was hot all over. "i haven't had anyone else, not since you." your pussy clenched around nothing in anticipation for what was to come. you were almost certain that your cunt was formed to the size of his cock.

"good, good. i don't want some fuckin' prick comin' to my home and fuckin' my girl." his voice was low as he got a hand between your legs and touched your clit with his rough fingers.

you arched your back and moaned out loud. you could be as loud as you needed to be. he kept his wife in a home far enough from everything that you could whimper and whine to your heart's content. your eyes fluttered closed as you felt the thrill of pleasure through your body.

"nothin' can have ya. no stupid asshole who thinks he can have what is mine. you made a promise, love. to be loyal to your husband." he growled as he gripped your jaw with his other hand and made you look into the mirror, "i don't think someone who wants to leave her husband would be lettin' him fuck her in their bedroom."

"simon, please." you whimper.

"nah, nah, love.' he said, accent heavier due to the immense lust in his body, "i was a good man to you. lovin', carin', did everythin' for ya. and you turn around like an ungrateful brat and try to leave me." his voice was getting deadly. his hand still held your jaw and his other played with your clit. you were stuck to him, "fuckin' slag. surprised you haven't fucked your way through the neighborhood to find a new man. because you'd never find one like me. or you're scared. scared i'd find him, and make him go missin'."

you swallowed, fear struck through you, "simon. i didn't sleep with anyone."

he buried his nose into your hair and groaned as his cock still prodded your pussy lips, "i know, i know. you don't actually want to leave me. your girlfriends got these thoughts into your head that i don't think are true. better without me? love, i made you."

you panted heavily, it was hard to look into the mirror with his hot words into your mouth. maybe he was right, maybe you didn't want to leave him. he had given you everything throughout your entire marriage. why would you sacrifice it?

he pulled his hand away from your pussy and guided his cock into your pussy. the stretch had you gripping onto him. the angle was awkward but he had you contorted to fit his pleasure.

"my good wife." he purred, "i'll always love you. even when you're not usin' that head of yours right. but don't worry." he kissed your cheek, "i'll always take care of my girl."

you held onto him as he thrusted into your from behind. you felt the air leave your lungs whenever he pushed into you. it was an intense feeling on your behalf. you had never imagined that fucking your soon-to-be ex-husband would feel so good.

"like that, love?"

you nodded meekly, "it feels good."

"that's a good girl." he groaned, "made perfectly for me. you are such a good girl for me, love. why would you want to go anywhere? stay with me, keep your vow."

your thighs quivered from the intense feeling of pleasure. your breathing was heavy and your head felt full. your heart leapt every time his cock nudged against a sensitive spot.

"please, simon. i can't be your wife."

"you can. and you will." he took you by the face and tilted your head back so he could kiss you passionately.

you melted into the kiss, as did the last of your resolve. your core throbbed with a need for him. he melted away all your problems. the more he fucked you, the more you wanted to stay with him.

he was your husband after all.

the sex between you two was hot and messy. it made you core soaked as he continued to bully his cock into your sweet cunt with every hard thrust.

"say you love me."

"i love you." you replied, your eyes hooded.

"good girl." he groaned, "i want to hear that every day until you can no longer speak." he licked across your bottom lip, "my good girl."

you whined as your body shook with each thrust of his hips. your pussy clenched around his cock. you felt your mouth to be dry and you voice strained.

simon loved taking you apart, only to put you back together. he continued to fuck you with abandon. he gazed at you with his nose in your hair as he thrusted up into you.

your noises were so cute, you really just were so small compared to him. you needed him! what were you thinking leaving him? you needed your big strong military husband to make sure that you were safe. don't be silly now!

he kissed your neck as he felt the surge of pleasure in his gut. his heart hammered with each every thrust. you were made for him. as he kissed the tip of your ear, he felt the blush that spread across your skin.

"please, simon."

"i got ya, love." he said, "i got ya." with a few more thrusts that hit in just the right place. you saw stars as you climaxed around his cock. his was soon to follow as his cum hit the back of your womb.

where it belonged.

as you rested your face on the carpet of the bedroom in an effort to cool down, simon grabbed your hips and started to thrust into you once more. his cock still painfully hard.

"you've done enough damage, love. so just sit there and let your husband take care of you." his voice was low and deadly. your best option would to just let simon do what he wanted.

"so mrs. riley. you've decided against the divorce. any particular reason why?"

you relaxed a little bit in the sleek office chair across the desk from your lawyer. your hand was on your middle as you smiled, "well, we're having a son soon, and he needs his father in his life. so i reconsidered."

"the case against your husband is fairly strong. broken locks on the door, his overly possessive behaviour, the text messages and voice mails, all of it. you could be granted a divorce quite easily."

you shook your head, "no need. we've worked it out." you smiled at the lawyer. you knew your simon was waiting for you in the car. his words echoed in your mind as you assured your lawyer that her services weren't needed.

you and simon were properly a family now. you didn't need to tear it apart. after all, how else were you going to end up with many little rileys running around?

#call of duty #bunny writes #reader insert #call of duty modern warfare #bunny speaks #call of duty smut #simon ghost riley #call of duty x reader #ghost call of duty #simon ghost riley fanfiction #ex husband simon #simon my beloved #simon ghost #ghost mw2 #simon ghost smut #ghost smut #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley smut

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seungkw1 · 3 months ago

Text

love me right — ksy

♡ pairing: roommate!hoshi x afab!reader ♡ theme: smut [18+ mdni], humor ♡ wc: 4.1k ♡ warnings: oral (f. & m. receiving), unprotected piv sex (do not do this), multiple orgasms, a lil spit play, head pushing, thigh riding, somnophilia, cum eating/swallowing, cumming in pants, like 2 seconds of angst, praise kink, hs is down bad for reader, gendered pet names (baby, good girl, pretty girl, etc), bit of fluff at the end ♡ a/n: this is part 2 to make me !! finally got this written hope yall like <3

Ever since you sort-of-accidentally had sex with your roommate for the first time, he’s been nothing but a fucking menace.

Not in a bad way - no, despite the fact that he's kind of an actual insane person he's always been and continues to be a very considerate and agreeable roommate. There's no problem with your living arrangements.

The problem is how fucking insatiable he has become.

You previously never thought there could be such a thing as too many orgasms, but Soonyoung really is testing your limits. You've never had so much sex in your life - and you're not mad about it by any means. But your roommate-turned-friend with benefits is absolutely, utterly, wholeheartedly obsessed with having his entire face buried in your pussy at all possible times. And you love every second of it.

Sure, sometimes your clit kinda feels like it's gonna fall off. Most of the time you've barely recovered from the last set of two, three, four orgasms (the current record is six, a record he's determined to beat) before he’s back between your legs again. But the constant cunnilingus leaves you more sensitive than ever before - and the more you squirm beneath his tongue and scream and cry as he takes you to paradise, the more it gets him off. One time you were wailing his name so much that he actually came in his pants, fully hands-free. The man simply worships you.

You've had various kink-related conversations over the past couple months of nonstop boinking, as these things come up. You wouldn't necessarily say Soonyoung is into anything too crazy (besides the occasional burst of tiger roleplay, anyway), but so far he's been enthusiastically down for everything you've expressed interest in. He’s the very definition of matching one’s freak.

“You know what would be hot?” Soonyoung asks you one day, approximately two minutes after you woke up and emerged from your room.

“Good morning to you too,” you tell him through a sleepy yawn.

“What if,” he continues anyway, “hypothetically, I were to wake you up one day by eating you out?”

“Soonyoung is it nine in the morning,” you reply as you give him a dull glare. You go to make yourself a cup of coffee, but he extends a full mug to you. You take the cup - it’s fresh, piping hot.

“Oh, thanks,” you say, surprised by the kind gesture.

“So?” he prods, eagerly awaiting your reply.

“I mean, yeah, I wouldn’t be mad about that,” you answer with a small shrug.

“NOICE,” he exclaims, pumping his fist in the air.

“BUT-” you quickly add. “That cannot be an everyday thing.”

“Right, of course not,” he agrees with a nod. “Soooo, when can I try it?”

“Well, I can’t tell you that,” you reply straightforwardly. “It’s supposed to be a surprise, that would like, defeat the whole point.”

A wide grin spreads across his face, but he shakes it off right away, playing it cool.

“Okay cool, well I’ll keep that in mind,” he says, grabbing your hand and shaking it vigorously. “Pleasure doing business with you.”

You roll your eyes at him.

“You’re so fucking stupid,” you gibe, but your face cracks into a smile. He pulls you in and kisses you.

“Love you too.”

You freeze.

You may have been intimate with him more times than you can count, but your relationship is strictly casual. You only kiss when you're fucking, and the words I love you have never once been uttered by either of you. You know he probably was saying it facetiously, but the way he said it was so nonchalant. So… realistic. You stare at him for a second, not knowing how to respond. His smile slowly drops.

“Oh, sorry,” he apologizes. His ears immediately turn red with embarrassment.

“No no it’s fine,” you babble, trying to backtrack. “I just wasn't expecting…”

“I was just kidding,” he responds. Then his eyes widen. “I mean not like that, it's not that-”

“It’s fine!!” you quickly interject before he can say anything else. “I know what you mean.”

“Sorry,” he murmurs again. He suddenly realizes he's still holding onto your hand - he swiftly lets go.

“Thanks for the coffee,” you tell him politely with a smile, trying to change the subject.

“Of course,” he replies, trying to smile back at you, but you can tell he's still sulky. He departs from the kitchen without saying another word. He emerges from his room about a minute later in athletic gear, his gym bag slung over his shoulder.

“Off to workout already? I thought you were going this afternoon” you inquire, but he's already breezing past you.

“Yeah, Mingyu just texted me and wanted to meet earlier,” he answers as he grabs his keys.

It’s a bad lie, and you both know it. But you don't press him further.

“Okay, have fun!” you say cheerfully. But an air of tension remains.

“Thanks,” he replies, turning back to glance at you for only a brief second.

“Hey,” you say softly. “Soonyo-”

He's out the door before you have a chance to finish even saying his name.

You stand there for a few moments, staring at the front door, wondering if you've just fucked everything up. You didn't mean to, of course. You were just so taken aback by the stupid L word. It's not something you ever expected to hear coming from Soonyoung’s lips, not about you anyways. But now it has you thinking. Was he simply joking around? Or does he actually have… feelings for you?

A small blip of a thought enters your mind: and do you have feelings for him?

You push it away before you can think about it any further.

The next few days are undoubtedly a bit awkward. Soonyoung is clearly avoiding you - not in a malicious way, but he just so happens to have business elsewhere whenever you're at home.

You're mildly annoyed, but more so you're feeling gloomy about the whole situation. You never meant to do anything to push him away - near-constant fucking aside, Soonyoung truly is a good friend. And now you find yourself missing him.

After an entire week of this nonsense, you decide to confront him. You pretend to be going to sleep, anticipating that he’ll spend some time alone in the common area. A few minutes later your hunch is confirmed when you hear the tv come on, its volume low. You quietly open your door and sneak into the living room. You approach the couch slowly from behind - when you arrive at it, you jump around and plop down next to Soonyoung.

“FUCK,” he yelps, nearly jumping out of his seat. “You scared me!”

“I'm horny,” you tell him bluntly, scooting up next to him. “Let me suck your dick.”

Soonyoung stares at you, looking into your eyes that are now mere inches from his. You can tell he desperately wants to say yes, but he resists. You give him a flirty look, trying to entice him.

“Pleaseeeee?”

“Well, I was gonna watch a movie…” his sentence trails off, unfinished. He tries to shift his focus away from you, but his eyes keep flickering back to yours.

“Seriously?” you ask, crossing your arms. “Since when do you turn down head?”

“Y/n…”

You wait for him to continue, but he doesn't.

“Yes?”

He looks you in the eyes again, then sighs.

“I dunno, I’m just not in the mood right now,” he finally answers. He looks away sullenly.

“Are you okay?”

He looks back at you. He clearly wants to tell you something, but he hesitates.

“About the other day…” he finally speaks. He pauses, in case you have something to say. You don’t; he continues.

“I didn't mean to make things weird. When I said that I loved you.”

“You didn't,” you assure him. You note that he didn’t say anything about it not being true, but you try to ignore that right now.

You take his hand in yours, patting it softly. He looks at you, surprised by the gesture.

“I was being weird, that's on me.”

His mood cautiously lightens. “You sure?” he verifies.

“100%,” you say with a nod. He smiles at you.

“Now will you please put your dick in my mouth?” you request again, looking into his eyes seductively.

A smile creeps onto his face.

“I mean if you're gonna be this fucking hot…”

You give him a mischievous smirk. You tug at his tshirt; he immediately takes it off. He groans as you grab his dick through his sweatpants, his cock starting to harden instantly in response. One thing about Soonyoung - you can do the bare minimum and he’ll have a boner within five seconds. You lick your lips, stroking him slowly through the soft gray fabric. He lets out a deep exhale, relieved by your touch - it had only been a week, but he missed you badly. He craved your touch, craved how insane you make him feel. He drops his head back, his legs spreading as he settles into the couch, shifting his pelvis up so you have full access to his groin. You rub your hand over the thick bulge, squeezing and pulling lightly, causing him to let out a pathetic-sounding moan. He is putty in your hands.

About a minute more of your over-the-pants handjob and Soonyoung is rock fucking hard. You slide off the couch, taking to your knees between his spread thighs. You pull at the elastic waistband, tugging it down over the pulsating bulge in his underwear. You place your mouth on him through the fabric, letting him feel your lips, your hot breath on him.

“Stop teasing me,” he begs after you plant several more kisses on his clothed dick. “Please.”

You gaze up at him, your eyes filled with lust. You reach into his underwear, retrieving his cock, prompting further pathetic moaning. He is leaking with precum - you take him in your fist, stroking up and down at a pace that he finds painfully slow. You place your lips atop the head, lightly sucking up his juices. He cries out as you then swirl your tongue over his tip.

“Aaaah,” he groans, his voice turning gravelly.

You grab his balls and take the rest of the head into your mouth. You hollow your cheeks as you begin sucking on it slowly - each motion of your lips long and drawn out. Saliva accumulates in the back of your mouth - and an overwhelming wetness accumulates in your underwear.

You draw your head back, gazing up at Soonyoung submissively. You collect your saliva, spitting it onto his cock - it trickles downwards. Wrapping your hand around his girth you spread it over his full length, coating his cock with your spit.

“Oh wow,” he mutters, nearly going cross eyed. You take his cock in your mouth once more, swallowing more and more of him until his entire length is down your throat.

“Goddamn baby,” he growls as you bottom out. You begin to bob your head, sucking him off. The sounds being made right now are grotesque - slurping and gagging from you, moaning and grunting from him. But it's only turning you on even more.

“Ohh that's a good girl,” he grumbles as he pets your hair. You increase your pace - saliva coats your lips, dripping down your chin, spreading across your face. The utterly sloppy head has Soonyoung writhing beneath you, babbling unintelligibly as his orgasm draws near.

“Feels so good baby.”

“Fuck you’re so hot.”

“Pretty girl sucking my cock so good right now.”

His other hand ventures to your head, holding you down as his hips jerk and shake. Your throat aches from him fucking it, your eyes well with tears - but your clit throbbing against the stickiness that has flooded your panties proves how much you fucking love this.

“Ohhhhhmygoddddd,” he groans through gritted teeth. “Fuuuuck, y/n… I’m gonna cum…”

He pushes your head down as he releases, giving you several hard thrusts as his cum spurts down your throat. You let him fill you up, eagerly swallowing each burst of his load. His hips slow as his climax wanes. His arms plop onto the couch cushions, his body sinking into the sofa as his body relaxes. He drags one hand to your face, grasping your jaw gently as he slowly pulls you off of his sensitive throbbing cock. He wants to look at you so bad, see that pretty little face with those pretty swollen lips covered in both your juices - but his energy is too drained to even lift his head.

“C’mere,” he pleads softly.

You pull yourself back up onto the couch, pressing your body closely against his. You lay your head on his shoulder as your fingertips delicately trace up and down his cock - it pulsates at your touch.

He turns his head to face you, his nose brushing up against yours. He lifts one hand, tenderly cradling your cheek.

“Can I kiss you?” he asks, his voice low and husky.

You feel a pang deep in your stomach. You've been scared to admit it this whole time, but at this point it's undeniable: you are falling in love with your roommate. And god do you want to kiss him.

“Yes,” you whisper, the word hot and breathy against his lips lingering before yours.

Soonyoung grabs your face with both hands, pulling you deep into his kiss. His lips hungrily lock onto yours, his body stilling except for his chest, rising and falling with slow, heaving breaths. He kisses you, and kisses you, and kisses you, holding you tightly, refusing to allow any physical space between you two. You want to stay here for all of eternity.

Slowly, your mouths part - he gives your bottom lip a few more tugs before letting go. His forehead rests against yours, both of you exhaling deeply in tandem. His hands drop to your waist, touching you gently as the warmth of his breath greets your face. He looks into your eyes as he holds you.

“Can I sleep with you tonight?”

You nod. Quickly tucking his remaining erection back into his sweats, he takes your hands and pulls you up with him, kissing you with each step as you stumble together into your room. You plop onto your bed, pulling Soonyoung on top of you. He rolls over, holding you snugly against him, your legs tangling together as he starts making out with you again. Your aching cunt presses against his thigh as you wrap your legs around him; you begin to grind your hips slowly.

“Wait,” he pauses. He reaches for your shorts, sliding your pajamas and panties off of you. You kick them the rest of the way off, discarding them somewhere on the bed, your shirt quickly joining them. He yanks his own pants off; you straddle his thigh again, your soaked cunt greeting his skin.

“Oh my god,” he groans. “It’s so fucking wet.”

Your hips begin again, dragging your pussy up and down his thigh, your juices spreading everywhere. You whimper at the stimulation, riding Soonyoung’s thick muscular quads as he wraps his arms around your torso. You cling to him as he draws you in close, his mouth wandering to your neck to plant a string of small kisses on the delicate skin. Ceaseless moans escape you as a fire builds in your gut, the burning pleasure of your climax rapidly approaching.

“Fuck I’m gonna cum,” you cry out as you frantically get yourself off on Soonyoung’s thigh. You feel his cock growing hard again - it presses into your belly as it strains against the fabric of his underwear.

“Cum for me babe,” his low voice speaks softly into your ear.

Desperately grinding your pussy on his thigh, you finally release. You scream his name as you cum, legs trembling as your body shakes with vigor. Soonyoung holds you tight, kissing your cheek lovingly as you orgasm in his arms.

“That's my girl,” he murmurs as he kisses your lips. You begin to come down, but your head is still spinning from the overwhelming stimulation. You try to catch your breath, slowing your breathing as Soonyoung rubs your back - but his touch and the warmth of his body sends you into a deep state of relaxation. He whispers something else to you, but before you can even process what he's saying, you are fast asleep.

You’re awoken the next morning by loud, moaning cries.

Still half asleep, you begin to register a familiar bodily sensation. Only when you pry your eyes open and see Soonyoung situated between your legs, do you realize you’re the one moaning. His face is buried in your pussy, licking you slowly, tasting you, savoring every moment of having his tongue in your cunt.

He lifts his eyes, noticing that you’re now conscious.

“Soonyoung what the fu- ohhh,” you question, but are cut off by his lips attaching themselves to your clit.

“Good morning beautiful,” he mumbles into your cunt, refusing to take his mouth of you for a second.

“Oh my god,” you groan. “I forgot I told you you could do this.”

He pauses, looking up at you.

“Do you want me to stop-”

“NO,” you shout, louder than you meant. You lift your hips, putting your folds back in his mouth. He smiles into your cunt, eagerly resuming eating you out.

“Good,” he replies, barely audible as his tongue begins working into your hole again.

Your back arches as his nose presses into your clit, making it throb desperately. He flattens his tongue, licking you all the way up, then swirling around the sensitive bud.

“Ahhh,” you cry out involuntarily. “You’re gonna make me cum already.”

This only eggs him on further. He wraps his arms around your thighs, grasping you tightly as the tip of his tongue quickly flicks over your clit.

“How- fuck, how long have you been down there?”

He glances up at you again, sticking his tongue out exaggeratedly as he continues licking you.

“I dunno, like five minutes maybe.”

“Five?!” you proclaim as your head falls back onto the pillow. You run your fingers through his hair. “That’s it?”

Soonyoung smirks, planting several kisses on your pussy.

“You were already soaking wet when I got here,” he informs you. “Must’ve been dreaming about me.”

“Oh shut the fuck up,” you pretend to be annoyed with him, but the moans escaping from your lips undermine your facade.

“C’mon, you like it,” he teases.

“Yeah,” you admit. “I do.”

He grins widely. “Good girl.”

His praise and the way his tongue is now circling your clit send you over the edge. You whine as your orgasm approaches - loud, pathetic sounds filling the air as he sucks and slurps between your thighs.

“Don’t stop,” you beg.

The sensation builds and builds, making you squirm beneath him as every nerve in your body erupts with overwhelming delight.

“Oh fuck- I’m cumming,” you shriek as you reach your high. You cum on his tongue, long and hard - riding out your orgasm on his face accompanied by loud, unabashed cries of pleasure. As your body starts to relax, you release the tight grip you didn’t realize you had on his hair, stroking his head as he softly laps up your release.

“Come here,” you tell him softly, but he doesn’t move. He seems to be even more relaxed than you are right now.

“Just a second,” he responds through deep breaths, his body sinking into the bed.

“Oh my god, did you…”

“Cum in my pants again?” he finishes your question for you. “Yeah. I did.”

He lifts his head, his eyes glazed over in post-orgasm bliss.

“You’re so hot, I couldn’t help it,” he says with an amused grin.

Finally able to move, he rises - his underwear visibly filled with cum. He crawls back up to you, plopping onto his back right beside you. He peels the ruined underwear off, tossing them aside, then stares down at his own mess.

“Lemme just, um…”

He goes to get up, intending to go clean himself off, but you pull him back onto the bed.

“I got it.”

You scoot yourself down, positioning your face near his groin. Slowly you begin to lick his own cum off of him.

“Jesus fuck, y/n,” he groans, his voice deep and low. “You’re filthy.”

“Don’t act like you don’t think this is hot.”

“Oh I do,” he says proudly. “Very fucking hot.”

He strokes your hair as you clean him up. As you finish he pulls you back up, laying you on top of him as he wraps his arms around you once more. Both of you are sweaty, and the embrace is nearly too warm - but neither of you want to move.

You lay there in silence, your head tucked comfortably into his shoulder, peacefully listening to the songbirds chirping as warm morning sunlight filters into the room through the blinds. Soonyoung is breathing so steadily that you think he's fallen asleep underneath you, but eventually you hear your name softly muttered from his lips.

“Hey, y/n?”

“Hmm?” you reply sleepily without moving. Soonyoung caresses your back, dragging his fingertips gently up and down over the soft skin.

“What are we?”

You lift your head, propping yourself up by your elbow. You look down at Soonyoung - he gazes up at you, waiting for your response.

“I don’t know,” you answer after thinking for a moment. “What do you want us to be?”

He reaches for your face, stroking your cheek gently.

“I wasn’t lying the other day.” He stares into your eyes. Despite the fact that he literally just had his face buried in your pussy, it feels overwhelmingly intimate. Your stomach churns anxiously.

“I really do love you.”

You knew he was going to say it, but your heart skips a beat anyway. Hearing him say it out loud, hearing him confess his love to you - it’s a thought that previously scared you. But you no longer fear confronting this reality. Now that you’re here, it feels comfortable, it feels right.

“I’m sorry if that makes things weird between us, but it’s the truth,” he says timidly. “I just can’t deny it any longe-”

You cut him off with a kiss.

You kiss him for far too long - but it’s never long enough. When your lips part at last, you gaze at him lovingly, a big, cheesy grin growing upon your face.

“I love you too, dummy.”

He stares back at you, mouth agape. He finally processes your words, his face lighting up with excitement.

“Really??” he asks you in awe.

“Really really,” you nod.

He embraces you with explosive enthusiasm, making you yelp as he rolls over on top of you. You giggle as he gives you a series of rapidly-placed kisses all over your face.

“Stop itttt,” you cry through your laughter. “That tickles!”

“Sorry,” he says with a big goofy smile. “I’m just really excited.”

“Yeah, I can tell,” you say as you grab his boner that has quickly returned.

He beams at you. “What can I say, you make my dick happy.”

“God, you’re such a dork,” you tell him as you roll your eyes. But you guide his tip to your entrance, shifting your hips to take him inside you.

“Ohh fuuuuck,” he mumbles, his eyes rolling back into his head. He starts slowly sliding his overstimulated cock into you, grunting when his whole length is inside. He rests, unmoving.

“You good?” you ask him.

“Yeah, just trying not to cum immediately,” he says, grinning.

“Soonyoung, you are crazy.”

“Crazy for you,” he says with a kiss.

You spend the rest of the day in bed together, making out, fucking, napping - anything, so long as you don’t have to leave his side. Soonyoung, being Soonyoung, tells you he loves you no fewer than 12 more times.

“So,” he asks as you intertwine your fingers with his, holding hands after he goes down on you for probably the fourth time today. “Does this mean I can call you my girlfriend now?”

You try to answer, but you’re trying to catch your breath after your millionth orgasm.

“Hmmmm?” he pesters.

“Gimme a… fucking second…” you mumble, pushing him away playfully. He gets right back in your face.

“I’m not hearing no…” he says, kissing your nose.

“Oh my god, yes, Soonyoung. The answer is yes.”

He grins from ear to ear, then wraps his entire body around yours, clinging to you like a koala.

“Yayyyy!" he replies as he nuzzles his face into you.

“You know,” he says after a few moments of silence. “I’m pretty hungry…”

“You better mean real food this time,” you tell him sternly. “I don’t think I could handle any more orgasms today.”

“Yes, real food,” he chuckles. “Shall I order delivery from that Thai place you like?”

“Yes please, I’m fucking starving.”

“You got it, baby.”

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yeyinde · 5 months ago

Note

Would you consider writing a poly141 version of the babytrap universe? Completely understand if it’s not to your interest to write, but I would love to see that story play out in your delicious writing style :)

ohh, absolutely. i think the best way to do it would be to have poor reader, desperate for a family of her own, and making the stupid decision to hand her resignation into Price.

and then admitting, shyly, that there's no man in your life, just a donor waiting for you to sign the papers and make the deposit for the procedure. thanking him for everything he's done, of course; but you're excited for this new chapter in your life.

He accepts it. Sure. Smiles tightly, and says, "good luck." Calls a meeting after to discuss it with the rest of the team. Closed door. A little unusual, but nothing that immediately raises your hackles. You're too busy cleaning up your desk to really pay much attention to hushed whispers in Price's office. Happy to celebrate, too, when Johnny invited you out for drinks after. Tae say goodbye properly, he said, and looking back, you should have seen through the faux sadness draped over his brow. Picked up on the giddy excitement buzzing around him as he led you to the bar, as he offered to get you drinks. Handed you an open bottle. Tipping it back for you to drink more.

Keep goin’, doe. Drink ‘er up.

Another one. Another. Your head swims. Kyle is there, hands warm on your waist, breath rippling across the sweat gathering on the nape of your neck.

“C’mon, birdie. Have a shot with me.” He coos, bringing the glass to your lips, chest glued to your spine. “Can't believe you want a baby. Fuck, birdie, that's—”

Johnny murmurs something under his breath. You blamed the three glasses of whiskey sour (Price wouldn't let you have anything else) and a shot of tequila for why it sounded like,

hope it's mine—

To the left of you, Ghost snorts under his breath. Shifts in the stool that creaks, whining under his weight. You blink through fog seeping into your head, this strange, syrupy torpor that bleeds into the corners of your vision, makes everything feel muted, far away, and turned to him with a pout.

He'd been acting strange ever since Price told him your plans. Quieter, somehow. But—

There.

Everywhere.

Your fixed shadow. Looming in the corners.

You make to ask him what the hell he's doing, why he's following you around, but the words slosh out in a tangle. Incompressible.

Ghost huffs. His gloved hand lifts, falls to your throat, holding you steady with his thumb digging shallowly into your pulse.

“Careful,” he mocks, dragging the word out like he was speaking to a misbehaving child. It bristles through you, but your tongue is thick. Liquid in your mouth. “Got a big night ahead o’you yet, pet. Try not t’hurt yourself before I get to knock you up.”

Distantly, you think you hear Gaz say something—oi, mate, maybe—but there's a shrill ringing in your ear that drowns it all out. A cotton spooling in your head. You blink—foolishly—and lean into his palm, mouth dropping in surprise. Shock.

Horror.

“Wha—?”

But it's too late, of course. What you thought were the comforting threads of a warm blanket spooling over your shoulders was the silken strands of a spider's web the whole time. Caught in their trap.

And then you come to with a warm weight pressed against your back, a thick, hairy arm slung around your shoulders. Trapping you tight against a warm, broad chest.

“Want a baby, mm?” your captain coos in your ear, humid breath tickling your skin. Dampening it slightly as he leans in close, lips pressed to the shell—a warm, wet heat that makes you tremble—and adds: “fine, love. Since you want one so bad—”

An arm lashes out of the shadows dancing around the room; through the heavy haze, the fog in your head (the last thing you remember is being offered a drink by Johnny, another by Kyle—), you struggle to make sense of what's happening around you as rough, dry fingers curl over your knee, prying your thighs apart:

“—then we'll give it to you.”

You watch, dazed, dizzy, as cherryred knuckles slip down the valley of your spread legs, the ink on their thick fingers flexing, dancing, in the slip of pale moonlight until they curl into the hem of your panties, tugging the fabric roughly to the side.

The sudden swell of cold air on your exposed cunt makes you gasp. Your knees jerking, trying to fold together to hide yourself, preserve some modicum of modesty, but the hand on your flesh tightens. Prevents you from moving. It keeps you open for their gaze. Lets them all gawk at the wide knuckles pressed against the seam of your pussy. Flushed in the low light. Dripping—

In the murk, someone groans—

“Shoulda told us sooner you wanted a fuckin’ baby, sweet’art. Woulda given you one sooner before y’had to go an’ do somethin’ so foolish—”

Foolish. Like paying for another man to put a baby inside of you when that privilege belongs to them. And them alone.

And really—

You should have known better.

#theyre so competitive about it too :/#all eagerly trying their hardest to knock you up and then refusing to get a paternity test because thats *their* baby #a vicious cycle #poly 141 x reader #141 x reader #captain john price x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #kyle garrick x reader #johnny mactavish x reader

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pha55ed · 5 days ago

Text

Nonsense Christmas || F1/F2

type :: smut!

tw/cw :: smut!, hot women in minimal clothing!!!, sexual jokes,

contains :: carlos, charles, lando, oscar, max, ollie, paul, pepe

summary :: you get offered to do a photoshoot for christmas which is awesome! but the drivers then find out it's a lingerie shoot and lose their minds

xmas celly here! || f1 masterlist || f2 masterlist

Carlos Sainz | 55

yourusername : so excited to announce my collab with savage x fenty! this design is so cute and perfect for girlys to surprise their bfs (or gfs) in! which is what im doing rn! hi carlos 👋😊

→ user 01: OH MY GAWWWD??? JAW ON THE FLOOR

⎯→ user 02: Carlos gotta be able to fight or else imma snatch her away

→ carlossainz55: you look lovely! (answer the phone now)

⎯→ yourusername: thank you!! (no, im scared

→ user 03: her face card is so lethal

→ user 04: she's this generations it girl omfg

The second you answered his calls, Carlos was hyperventilating. It was like you could practically hear how feral he was going after seeing your photoshoot. You couldn't help but smile at the thought of him going crazy. Your surprise went perfectly!

"I'm coming home now," He says sternly, "Unlock all the doors, I'm running in."

"Well that doesn't sound very safe." You say, trying to joke with him. Thank god he couldn't see you in person or else he would see how wide you were grinning at his words.

"Oh shut up, wait for me on the bed" He says as he hangs up.

You did your job and now all you had to do was wait- Oh my fucking god he's at the door already. You can't even say anything before he's all up on you, getting ready to berate you for looking too good for the world's eyes.

"I missed you" He mumbles as he kisses your neck eagerly. His hands roaming down to your ass, giving it a squeeze which makes you laugh. But he's not smiling at all. You knew what was gonna happen and you didn't care.

Charles Leclerc | 16

yourusername : the victoria secret winter showcase was such a blast! loved seeing all my girls again and esp all you guys! i wouldn't be here without you <3 happy holidays to all

→ user 01: MOTHER IS BACK!!!!

⎯→ user 02: Literally the best walk in the whole show

→ charles_leclerc: i will go to war for you

⎯→ user 03: she awoken his primal instincts

→ user 04: will we see you again??? u were SLAYINGGG

⎯→ yourusername: duh! see you next year <3

→ user 04: she's beautiful, humble, and with a rich boyfriend? when is it my turn

The second you got off stage, Charles was doing his absolute best to compose himself. Seeing you still in your lingerie set, cute little hat and gloves made him pants feel so tight. You kept wanting to say goodbye to all the girls, thanking the staff, being your usual self. This is the one time Charles was wishing you would keep your mouth shut and rush home.

Once you both were out, he rushed you into the car. But not the passenger seat, instead he pushed you into the back seats. He quickly followed you, unbuckling his belt and staring at your body.

"Charles!" You say, shocked at how desperate this man was. "We can't! People are gonna see-"

"And?" He says as he rips his belt off and begins to unbutton his shirt. "My windows are tinted, amor, no one will see."

He's hands are quick, instantly getting your clothes off too. Once he saw the same white lacy set you were wearing earlier, he can't help but grin like crazy. He was worshipping the ground you walked on. Practically licking your footsteps.

"I'm so so lucky," He groans, his hands caresses your body with such care. "So so lucky."

Lando Norris | 04

yourusername : skim's winter collection is out!!! And I'm part of it! So happy to show off these sets to the world ❤️

→ user 01: body is TEAAAA

⎯→ user 02: the body of my dream fr fr

→ landonorris: but when i wear ur bras I'm a slut???

⎯→ yourusername: u got no boobs to deserve a bra

⎯→ landonorris: so ur calling me skinnyyyyyyy?

→ user 03: slayed so hard that dinosaurs r extinct

⎯→ yourusername: don't blame me for that :(

→ user 04: can't believe lando is just... joking around... do u think this is a fucking game? you think this is funny? i will steal your girl and propose and start a family of 5.

⎯→ landonorris: trust me, we're gonna be a family of 5 once i'm home

And he wasn't joking about that comment because you two have been at it for almost an hour at this point. He was flipping you from position to position just to make sure he got every single angle of you in this lingerie set. Doggy, missionary, cowgirl, all sorts of positions that even Sabrina Carpenter hasn't tried.

He already cummed once too, but he was so horny that he was instantly recharged. Thankfully he was sane enough to help clean you up before pounding you once again. But that was the only break you had. You couldn't help but just feel bad for your neighbors for having to hear you two go wild.

But Lando isn't a monster! He knows that it can hurt after going for so long. So while your whining, begging him to slow down or give you a break for minute, he simply just reaches for the bedside drawer. He whips out a fat tube of lube and squirts some onto his dick before quickly getting back to work.

"L-Love you," He mumbles as he keeps thrusting in and out "Love you so much, ahh"

Oscar Piastri | 81

yourusername: let my inner princess out for Victoria Secret's Santa Baby collection! every piece is so precious, just like all the crew members and girls 💋

→ user 01: literally a goddess

⎯→ user 02: blessed by aphrodite herself

⎯→ user 03: she IS aphrodite

⎯→ yourusername: don't curse me girl 🙅‍♀️🙅‍♀️

→ user 04: ur such a ball of sunshine UGHHHH

→ user 05: i pray this doesn't get on my bf's feed

→ user 06: can oscar fight?

⎯→ oscarpiastri: no but i can dox you

You know "Jealous" by Nick Jonas? That's exactly how he's feeling right now. Seeing everyone admire not just your body but how lovely your energy is was making him want to burn the entire building down. He was so supportive of your being a model, how could he gate keep your beauty from the world?

But now, oh god he hates this. He rushes you both home after the shoot and instantly lays you on the bed. His mind is racing yet he's not saying much to you.

"Oscar?" You ask him, looking up at him from the bed. Which instantly makes his dick throb, something you see through his pants. Even just saying his name might drive him to the edge.

"If I cover you in hickies, you can't work anymore, right?" He says, taking off your top and rushing to unbutton your jeans.

"Don't do that," You say trying to sound stern but you did love the idea. "You know I have another shoot soon!"

"You have foundation," He says as he begins to kiss down your neck and pressing harsh circles on your clit "You'll live." He says as he pushes your panties to the side. Your breathing hitches, knowing how good he was with his fingers.

"Unless," He pulls his hands away and looks down at you. "you really don't want to?"

But he knows you want it, he just wanted to hear you say it. To know you were as needy for him that he was for you.

Max Verstappen | 01

yourusername: i WOULD be freezing cold but thank god for the skims fleece bodysuits!! happy holidays to all! may ur pussys be warm and used ⛷️

→ user 01: (Y/N)?!?!?!1 THE CAPTION

⎯→ user 02: i need to know if kim's reaction to this 😭

→ user 03: literally like a barbie doll

→ user 04: looked at myself and sighed

⎯→ yourusername: stalked ur page and found ur facebook, GIRL u go to stanford, have a nice ass house, AND A LETHAL ASS FACECARDDDD hush ur mouth, ur lovely

⎯→ user 04: omg thank you??!?!?!?!! 😭😭

⎯→ user 05: she's the ultimate girls-girls

→ user 06: if max doesn't comment soon i'mma assume she's free for me

→ maxverstappen1: sorry i was drooling, im only commenting to scare user 06 away

⎯→ user 06: im gonna hex you.

You fully unlocked mad max at these photos. Although the shoot was simple and not even super suggestive: he was fuming and needed to get it out. He was joking in the comments, but he’s already jacked off once to the photos.

And once he gets home, it’s over for you. You’re pinned against the wall, his lips going all over your body. Not an inch of you is left unkissed.

“Unbelievable” he said as he sneaks a hand behind your head, grabbing a fistful of your hair. He tugs you downwards, you already know that that means.

Instantly you’re on your knees, looking up at him as if you had no idea why he was so angry. That just made him even more angry. Which may or may not have been your intention.

He unbuckled his pants quickly, throwing the belt to the side and letting his pants fall down to his knees. Your hands already know to do and pull his boxers down. And you’re instantly hit with the sight of his hard cock, a veiny and thick one.

You’ve seen it many times before, but you always can’t help but stare in awe of how something that size of a wrist is fitting inside you.

“Don’t just stare at it.” He tugs your face directly into his dick, smushing your face against it. “Get to work.”

Oliver Bearman | 87

yourusername: so so so happy to modeling the newest set for my bestie's brand! i'm wearing... nothing... 😉 the real sets come out in a week! stay tuned MWAH

→ user 01: my whole face is PINK omg

⎯→ user 02: my tip is RED

⎯→ user 03: oh...

⎯→ user 02: i'm a girl, dw

→ user 03: ... start an onlyfans... please.... please please please

→ user 04: oh my godddddd, i dropped the keys to my 1962 Ferrari 250 GTO, oh I'm so clumsy! (I'm 6'0 too) (and pretty funny)

⎯→ olliebearman: and i drive for ferrari, at 6'1, whilst cracking jokes

Ollie knows his worth, he knows he's a highly sought after man. But he's never felt more insecure than now, reading your comments filled with not just men but also girls?! He had to fight off both sides, which made him feel even more weary that his girlfriend is so desired.

So the only way for him to stop his insecurities was easy! Just fuck it out of his system, duh! So now, you're stuck bent over in doggy style in the shower. Why the shower? Because he knew he would make an absolute mess out of you.

He's pounding into you, making loud slaps against the walls. It echos throughout the entire bathroom. You're sure your neighbors can hear but there's not much you can do. You're stuck being a moaning mess while he's holding onto your hips for dear life.

As if that wasn't enough, he leaned forward to whisper into your ear. "Never, never again..." He says, breathing heavy from being so tired, yet his body was moving on his own. "No one can see you like this, ever."

Paul Aron | 17

yourusername: "angel?" set is out now! so proud to be part of the process for this🪽 i did, indeed, feel like an angel

→ user 01: mind you this is my first impression of you... and i'm following asap

⎯→ user 02: i was prepared to fight u for a second

→ user 03: LAWWDDD??? I COULD TAKE A BITE OUTTA UR ASS

⎯→ user 04: enough ass to feed a whole family of 5

→ user 05: paul... count your days

⎯→ paularon_: what did i do???

⎯→ user 06: u better worship the ground she walks on

⎯→ paularon_: of course i do, that's my whole purpose

→ user 07: perfect body, gorgeous face, hot ass boyfriend, GOD HAS FAVORITES

Oh he's livid. Not because you did the shoot, how could he blame you for simply looking good? He knew he picked a baddie and was ready to take all the repercussions alongside it. But he was livid because the fans were practically drooling over you. He's a possessive guy, it's basically his middle name.

He won't get off you at all, as if he needs you like air. His comment wasn’t a lie, he was worshipping you just like he should. Leaving hickies all over your neck, sucking on your breast, fingering you until you cummed at least twice. And he's not even done.

It's like he's trying his best to tease himself for as long as possible. You see how huge his dick is, how it's practically drowning in it's own precum. But he refuses to fuck you until he knows you're satisfied.

He's mainly doing this because he knows he's going to cum fast. Just from giving you pleasure makes him want to cum already. Being inside would only make him last one thrust, maybe two if he's lucky.

You're tired, fucked out from his fingers and sore from his hickies. But he simply kisses your cheek before bringing his head down to your cunt.

"N-No," you say, so overstimulated and wanting to see him get pleasure too. "Paul, just... Just f-fuck me already"

"Shhh" He says, not giving a single care for what you have to say. As he licks your cunt. You shiver from the touch, already knowing you're going to stuck in that bed for hours.

Pepe Marti | 21

yourusername: was i cold? 😣 yeah, but it was so worth it! loved working with the crew to take these breath-taking shots, i've never felt prettier 💌

→ user 01: oh. my. GOD??????? THE BODY

⎯→ user 02: seeing her without a 10lbs hoodie hiding her is so weird but SO GOOD

⎯→ user 03: literally thought this was an entirely different girl

→ user 03: i'm putting u in my heart locket

⎯→ user 04: literally going to print this out onto my wall

→ user 05: pepe is so so SO FUCKING lucky

→ pepemartiofficial: my beautiful girl 😘

Although you were much more shy and reserved than others, seeing you do this shoot made him feel so proud of you. Every photo was stared at by him for hours, just loving every detail that makes you you. He can’t help but feel so lucky to have such a beautiful girl but see your confidence grow.

So now he’s fucking you gently, dick pushing against your stomach from how long he is. His head is in your neck while his hands are holding yours. Each thrust is slow and patient, making you feel each centimeter of him.

“You’re so beautiful,” he groans into your neck. “So so, proud” he barely mumbles that. Feeling the strong urge to cum.

Although fucking with him was gentle this time, you still came. He always made sure you were placed first. So now he’s basically just overstimulating you, going at an agonizing slow pace to just fuck with you.

“T-Than’ you.” You say to him, wanting to grab his hair or back. But you can’t, since you’re pinned down by his own hands that are interlocked with yours.

“Gonna cum,” he groans again into your neck also pathetically “Inside?” He begs “That’s okay right??”

#f1 #f2 #formula 1 #formula 2 #f1 x reader #f2 x reader #carlos sainz x reader #charles leclerc x reader #lando norris x reader #oscar piastri x reader #max verstappen x reader #ollie bearman x reader #oliver bearman x reader #paul aron x reader #pepe marti x reader #f1 smut #f2 smut #f1 smau #f2 smau

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lacy-oh-lacy · 2 months ago

Note

i genuinely need you to write something for rio vidal plzzzzzz i’ll take anything but your writing is perfect so id love for you to write something *cough* dominant jealous rio *cough*

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ 𝑫𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒉'𝒔 𝒈𝒓𝒊𝒑

𝑴𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕

𝑨/𝑵: Omg thank you, Anon. You're too sweet 𖹭

𝑪𝑾: Fem!Reader, Dom!Rio, Jealous!Rio, Soft domming, knife play, biting, magical G!P, possessiveness

Contrary to all common sense, the quickest way to find yourself on Death’s radar was not through an act of death itself. Not by losing your life or taking another's…

No, it was through her girlfriend.

A stranger's lingering gaze or a friend's pda never escaped Rio’s attention, and a repeat offender, like oh say… that coworker of yours you were talking to at that very moment…

Well, they managed to make an enemy out of the force of nature that could usually pride herself on her indiscriminate apathy.

Rio lurked in the shadows outside your workplace, eyes darkening as that fool made you laugh.

She wasn't even two minutes late to pick you up, and already that snake was curling around you. Unbelievable.

You didn't think anything of it, Rio knew, but she could see in that man's eyes every disgusting thought he was having about you.

It made her sick, it made her burn.

Well, if the shades of purple littering your neck didn't clue him in to the fact that you were taken, she was beyond willing to do it herself.

Under the cover of darkness she shifted her attire with a thought, striding over in a new, clean-cut suit that made his own look like ratty hand-me-downs.

You perked up as soon as you noticed her and it made her heart leap. Your bright smile, your appreciative eyes taking in her new look…

He could never make you glow like that.

“Hey, Baby.”

Rio couldn't help a quick smile reserved only for you as she joined you under the streetlight, arm wrapping around your waist. “Hello, my love. Sorry I'm late, work was murder.”

She turned to face your companion, with a cold and withering stare. A look that could take years off a life.

“Who's your friend?”

You could never truly estimate the depths of Rio's jealousy but you knew that look well enough to know you had to get her out of there.

And you knew it well enough to not be surprised by the intensity she brought to the bedroom that night.

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

“I missed you today.”

Rio replied in her softest tone, someone less attuned to her might not have even heard the boundless resentment living within it, “You seemed like you were enjoying yourself.”

Leisurely, she traced her knife from your jaw, down your neck, applying a spine-tingling pressure just short of breaking skin.

“Yeah well, that new guy I work with is pretty fun.” You said breathily, not biting. Her blade caught on the collar of your shirt, lingering above your hammering heart, and Rio laughed.

Never before had such stubborn brattiness looked so good on someone, but you were just something else… teasing her even with a knife to your chest…

She cut through the fabric in one rough slash. “Careful, Lover. Wouldn't want to shorten such a fun man's life span, would you?”

“You wouldn't do that.” you challenged

“Try me. I'd do anything to keep you.”

The sincerity of the statement should have frightened you, but it was intoxicating. To be the object of such devotion from Death herself was a head-spinning high that no drug, spell or new lover could match.

“You'll always have me, Rio.”

There was a pain to the look she gave you in return, a wound behind her eyes, but she found a smile for you before she circled behind you.

“I’d better.” She breathed in your ear, pulling the tatters of what used to be your shirt from your body.

The tip of her knife traveled down your spine, barely grazing your skin on a trail to your skirt, which she skillfully cut open, baring you to her completely.

“My pretty girl…”

Her hand smoothed over your ass-cheek with near reverence before disappearing between your legs.

You gasped, skin aflush, but all too soon you realized she wasn't done playing with you yet.

“Please.” You whimpered as her fingers slid across your folds, just short of where you needed them.

“Say my name.”

“Rio, please, I need you so bad.”

She drew a lazy circle on your clit and your breath hitched, “Well how can I say no to that?”

A tingling warmth followed her hand on your back as she pushed you forward, forcing your chest onto your dresser and you into a bend.

You barely noticed the hardness of the surface against your breasts. You couldn't concentrate over the thought of being so exposed to her, and even that died with your last remaining brain cells as you felt the tip of her cock against your entrance.

She could've gone right in, you were wet enough for her to, but she slowly dragged up and down your slick folds, cock head catching on your clit every time and setting your nerves ablaze.

“Rio.” You whined.

“So impatient.” She laughed. “Don't worry, Baby, I'll take care of you.”

With that she pushed through your centre, slowly and gently sinking inside of you, savoring every blissful moan you let out.

She very nearly lost herself as you jerked against her but she resisted the rough thrust you were so clearly asking for. Your pathetic, little mewls, music to her ears.

She bottomed out inside of you, letting you adjust, letting you enjoy being filled. Then quicker than you could process she pulled out and slammed back in.

You cried out, but Rio wasn't slowing down this time, pounding you again and again with deep, unapologetic thrusts.

“You're mine. You hear that? Say it.”

“I'm yours, Rio.” You choked out, voice bouncing with her pistoning hips.

“Yeah, you’re mine. My good girl.”

She leant forward, her breasts flush against your back, as she sank her teeth into your shoulder, leaving behind a delightful sting.

Rio wasn't usually one for quickies but tonight she'd make an exception. There was a desperation inside of her stronger than mere lust. She had to see you cum.

She twisted her arm around your hip so she could work your clit, rubbing in a frenzy. “Tell me you want me.”

“Want you. Need you.”

“Then cum for me Baby, I know you can do it.”

Rio was nothing short of amazing. The concentrated skill on your clit and the near supernatural speed of her thrusts unraveled you like only she could.

Your mouth fell open and your walls clenched around her in a strangling hold as lust threatened to burn you alive.

“God! Rio!”

You came all over her and right on cue she emptied her cock inside of you, filling you to your very core with what felt like neverending ropes of cum, trapped inside of you by her refusal to pull out.

“I'm never gonna let anyone else do this to you, baby.” She breathed out, mouth returning to your shoulder to lick over the bite mark she left. “Never, for all eternity, I'm yours, and you’re mine.”

#rio vidal x reader #rio vidal smut #agatha all along #agatha all along x reader #marvel x reader #marvel smut #mcu x reader #marvel imagine #rio vidal #aubrey plaza

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solelifauna · 2 months ago

Note

So this NOT to imply the writing is bad

But so far the Batfam fic as me genuinely shaking in anger , the fact that dick is convinced that y/n as to prove herself to be "worthy" genuinely got to me to the point I need a pallete cleanser

Could we please get a small drabble of reader growing close with one of the "outside" batfam members?

Like maybe Kate(batwoman) and Luke (batwing) because they are under used

Or hell, maybe to really grind the family gears, reader gets close to azrael

(you know Bruce would've able to do shit if reader got close with Kate, she would fucking eat him alive)

Hey, You're all good bro! I also just want to put out that my fic is based on an au! The portrayals of any characters in my fic are based off of their canon and fanon counterparts, just with my own twist. Since this is a darker universe/au, the Bats along with other heroes are going to be a lot more brutal and jaded.

Also love your idea bro. But, I'll do you one better. Constantine. Bruce absolutely can't stand him and the reader being friends with/getting along with him? Oh, that's bound to grind Bruce's gears. It would also be easier to meet Constantine too.

Let's just say one day the reader gets caught up in some Justice League Dark stuff that Constantine is trying to solve. She gets kidnapped by a cult that wants to use her as a sacrifice. I mean, she is a pretty huge target, being the daughter of a Billionaire after all. Anyways, shes kidnapped, nobody is coming to get her, not from her family at least. Long story short, Constantine arrives too late to stop the ritual, but things don't go according to plan for the cultists anyway. Turns out that the person sacrificed wouldn't be killed, but would instead become a vessel.

Great, now you have some old, eldrich being living rent-free in your mind. The being is old, donning the title "Keeper of Hell", but you'll just call it (they? him? her?), Adam. Yeah, Adam wasn't too happy with the name. When Constantine arrives, however, hes pleasantly surprised to find you alive. When he realizes that you, a 15-year-old, now carry the presence and power of an eldritch being older than Gotham itself, he groans while lighting up a cigarette. Looks like he'd have to deal with you now.

He checks over you making sure you have no internal and external injuries before explaining your situation. He feels a little sorry for you, but he is in no condition to train you. He asks around to other JL dark members, hoping to see if anyone is willing to help you control your new powers. He sighs again when nobody steps up to the plate, too busy with their own sidekicks and quests.

Reluctantly, he tells you he'd help you figure stuff out. And there begins the blossoming of the amazing "Grumpy old man and kid they didn't ask for" troupe. When you tell Constantine your name, he blanks, because of course he gets stuck with one of the bat's kids. However, based on your tone of voice when discussing your family (and the way you begged him not to let Bruce/Batman know of your predicament), he's guessing things aren't all too great between you all. Well, thats not his problem, his only job was to train you and make sure you don't end up accidentally killing someone.

Yeah...like that thought process is going to last. Training sessions start out bleak and professional, he's only doing a job. Then as time continues, he finds himself enjoying your company, your enthusiasm to learn and your rambunctious/sarcastic comebacks always have him fighting off a smile. It's been a while since he's had company like this. Soon, you're both going out on missions, and then ice cream breaks afterward. He lets you fall asleep on his shoulder, drooling all over his trench coat after particularly difficult missions and he can't bring himself to mind.

He's fond of you, although he never admits it out loud. It's okay though, because even though he's never said it out loud, his actions speak louder than words. You could feel his love and pride for you. Although he wasn't exactly your dad per se, he was still something to you, maybe the wine uncle? You don't know, and you don't particularly care to put a label on what Constantine was to you, you're just glad that he's there.

Shit hits the fan, however, when one day you decide to go on a solo mission. It's nothing crazy, just getting rid of some poltergeists and low-level demons and shades. Now, were you given permission to go on this mission alone? No, but in a normal teenage manner, you decide to go anyway. Everything was fine, you got rid of all the poltergeists in the area and even some of the shades too! It's all going well until you realize that the demon mentioned before was not as weak as you were told. You gulped when its blood red eyes turned to you.

"Well shit." Constantine was going to kill you.

It immediately lunges at you, you barely rolling out of its sharp claws. You hit it with a couple of spells, causing the demon to roar out in pain, burn marks now littering its side. Its tail whips at you, colliding with your stomach as you fly into a wall with a loud thud. You groan as you pick yourself up, clutching your ribs, each breath a jagged pain that ripples through your chest. Your arm is slick with blood, the gashes from the demon's claws burning as if its very essence were trying to sear your flesh. You grit your teeth and weave another spell, calling on Adam’s power to knock the demon back. This time, a burst of raw energy slams into it, shattering its leg with a sickening crack.

For a brief moment, you think it's over, ready to strike the final blow. But the demon’s leg snaps back into place, bone and flesh knitting together as if the injury had never happened.

“Of course,” you mutter under your breath. “Why would this be easy?”

The demon lunges again, and you’re just a split second too slow. Burning pain flares through your right arm as its claws tear into you, ripping through your flesh like paper. You scream, the sound involuntary, but you push through the pain, refusing to go down without a fight.

Drawing back, you unleash another spell, a sharp projectile of energy aimed at its neck. The demon flinches, letting out a low growl. That reaction—panic—gives you the first glimmer of hope. Its neck. That's its weak spot.

With renewed determination, you gather every ounce of strength you have left. The cuts across your body throb, and your arm feels like it’s on fire, but you push it all aside. You can do this. You have to do this.

You unleash a volley of cutting spells, each one aimed at the demon’s throat. It fights back viciously, throwing you around the room with a strength that makes your vision blur. Every hit you take feels like your bones are splintering, but you keep going. You keep attacking.

Finally, one of your spells strikes true.

The demon lets out a gurgling screech as your spell cuts deep into its neck. Blood—thick and dark—pours from the wound, and it claws at its own throat, choking. Its body spasms violently, and then, as if collapsing in on itself, it begins to disintegrate. In a few seconds, all that’s left is dust.

You stand there, panting, barely able to process the fact that you did it. You won. A grin spreads across your face, and despite the pain radiating from every part of your body, you let out a weak cheer.

But the celebration is short-lived.

Pain cuts through you like a knife, sharp and sudden, reminding you of just how battered you are. Blood is still oozing from the various gashes across your body, and your arm feels like it’s hanging by a thread. You stumble, nearly falling, but catch yourself at the last second.

“Crap… I’m bleeding out,” you mumble, wincing. “Whoops.”

With what little energy you have left, you remember the spell Constantine taught you, the one that would tether you to him no matter where you were. He warned you not to use it unless it was an emergency—and bleeding out from demon-inflicted wounds definitely qualifies.

You lift your shaking hand and cast the spell, a sluggish flick of your wrist sending out a ripple of energy. A portal forms, shimmering and unstable, but functional enough. Without much grace, you stumble through it, disappearing from the demon’s lair.

What you didn’t know, however, was that Constantine was currently in a Justice League meeting.

The first thing you feel is a sudden drop, like the ground beneath you has vanished. You barely register the sensation of falling before you crash, hard, onto something solid. Groaning, you blink through the haze of pain and find yourself sprawled across a massive table.

You can hear voices—muffled, alarmed—but the world is spinning too much for you to focus. All you know is that you're lying on something cold and hard, and you’re absolutely drenched in blood.

Forcing your eyes open, you see several figures standing around you, staring in shock. Your vision is blurry, but you can make out Superman’s cape and Wonder Woman’s armor. You try to process what's happening, but the pain in your arm and ribs keeps pulling you under.

"Ow, ow, ow, ow. Fuckkkk." You cry out.

Suddenly, the scent of smoke fills the air. You don't even have to look to know who it is. Constantine’s familiar trench coat brushes against your arm as he crouches beside you, cigarette dangling loosely from his lips. His eyes flicker with a dangerous mix of exasperation and barely concealed anger.

“What in the bloody fuck, kid?” he snaps, his tone harsher than usual, but the concern underlies his words.

You wince, the situation hitting you all at once. Crap. Now I've got to deal with this.

You muster a weak, sheepish grin, wincing as you turn your head to face him. “Heyyy Constantine, how are ya?”

His brow furrows deeper, and he’s clearly not amused. “What did you do?”

You swallow hard, trying to think of how to explain yourself without getting ripped to shreds—verbally or otherwise. “I—well, promise you won’t get mad?”

“Too late for that, kid. I’m already halfway there,” he growls, his eyes narrowing as he looks over your wounds. “Now get to it.”

You bite your lip, trying to find the least disastrous way to explain. “So… I sorta… mighta… gone on a solo demon-hunting mission,” you blurt out quickly, hoping he’d just move past it.

The way Constantine’s eyes widen, and the immediate twitch in his jaw tell you that he’s definitely not going to move past it.

“You did what?!” His voice rises as he stands up, rubbing a hand over his face. “Oh bloody— I thought I specifically told you not to go by yourself! And this is what happens!”

“Hey, well, I’m alive, aren’t I?” you say, grinning nervously, trying to play it off.

“That’s besides the point!” He throws his arms up, pacing as he takes a long drag from his cigarette. “Bloody hell, I should’ve known better with you kids. I swear, this is why I never—”

Just then, a dark, grim voice cuts through the chaos, and your heart nearly stops.

“Constantine,” Batman’s tone is low, authoritative. “Why is my daughter bleeding on our table?”

Oh no. No, no, no. Not now.

You freeze, your mind going blank as you feel the weight of Batman’s presence at the end of the table. You slowly, painfully turn your head to see him standing there, cape draped over his shoulders, his gaze icy and locked onto you. His usual stoic expression somehow looks even more intense.

“Ah… shit,” you mutter under your breath, groaning inwardly as you realize you’ve just landed yourself in the absolute worst situation imaginable. “I completely forgot he was still here.” Wait, did you say that out loud?

Constantine gives you a sidelong glance, raising an eyebrow. “Yes, kid, you did. And now we’ve got more than just your wounds to worry about, don’t we?” He sighs deeply, rubbing his temples, already anticipating the fallout.

Batman’s eyes narrow, arms crossed as he takes a step closer to you, his voice low and dangerous. “Care to explain yourself?”

You’re still bleeding, your head is pounding, and you’re pretty sure at least a few bones are broken, but none of that compares to the fear creeping up your spine as you look up at your father. Your mind races for an answer, but every excuse you can think of feels flimsy at best.

Constantine clears his throat, sensing the rising tension in the room. “Right. Let’s get her fixed up before this turns into an interrogation, yeah? Kid’s bleeding all over the place, and she’s already taken a beating. We’ll save the lecture for later.” He waves his hand, muttering something under his breath as he kneels beside you again.

The tension between Constantine and Batman lingers in the air, thick and heavy, but Batman finally relents. His eyes soften—slightly—as he watches Constantine work to stabilize your injuries with magic.

You can feel yourself growing weaker, the adrenaline finally wearing off as the pain becomes unbearable. Constantine mutters a healing spell, one that slows the bleeding and knits some of the less serious cuts together. It's not perfect, but it’s enough for now.

“I think it’s time to get you all fixed up, huh?” Constantine says softly, his earlier anger tempered by concern as he helps you sit up, his hand firm on your back to support you.

You nod weakly, not daring to meet Batman’s eyes again. You’re in deep trouble, but for now, at least, you’re still breathing. As Constantine gets ready to teleport you to a safer place to heal, you hear Batman’s voice, calm but steely.

“We’re not done here.”

And with that ominous promise hanging in the air, Constantine picks you up, and the world around you shifts once again.

Constantine gently carries you through the halls toward the Justice League’s med bay, muttering curses under his breath with every step. You could feel his frustration radiating off him, and now, in the quiet aftermath of the fight, guilt begins to settle in your chest. The adrenaline from the battle has worn off, and now you're left with the consequences of your reckless actions.

“Hey, Constantine… I—I’m sorry for not listening to you. I really am,” you say, your voice soft and heavy with regret.

He sighs, not looking at you, but his tone is stern. “I’m not going to lie and say I’m not mad at you, kid. You didn’t just ignore my warnings—you put yourself in danger. There are rules for a reason. What if you got seriously hurt and couldn’t cast a spell back to me? Even worse, what if you died or got possessed?”

His words hit you hard, and you wither under the weight of them. You know he’s right. All those rules and restrictions aren’t just him being overprotective or controlling, they’re because he cares. He’s seen the kind of darkness that can swallow people whole, and the thought of that happening to you terrifies him, even if he’ll never say it out loud.

By the time you reach the med bay, the guilt feels like it’s pressing down on you as much as the pain in your ribs. Constantine lowers you onto a cot, tucking you in with a gruff gentleness that only he could pull off. He sits down on the side of the bed, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it with a quick flick of his fingers, his eyes never leaving yours.

“What I’m trying to say, kid,” he starts, exhaling a cloud of smoke, “is that I care. I care about you, I care about what happens to you. I don’t want—” He pauses, his voice softening. “I don’t want to ever have to find your body one day. So please, from now on, let me know before you do something stupid like this.”

His words hang in the air, raw and unfiltered. You nod, trying to process it all, and then something clicks in your mind. Wait… did he just say let him know?

“Let you know? Does this mean—” Your eyes widen as realization hits you. “Does this mean I can go on solo missions?”

Constantine lets out a resigned sigh. “Yes, yes, you can start going on solo missions—”

“Hell yeah!” you exclaim, sitting up a little too quickly. Pain shoots through your ribs, but you can’t help the excitement bubbling inside you.

“—but, only the ones I sanction and authorize,” Constantine finishes, cutting through your excitement with a stern look. You deflate a little at his words, but it’s still a victory in your book.

Without thinking, you throw your arms around him, ignoring the sharp pain it causes in your ribs. “Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you! I promise I won’t let you down!”

He chuckles, patting your back awkwardly before pulling away. “Yeah, yeah, I know you won’t. Now, lay back down and get some rest. You still have dark and brooding to deal with.” He gestures toward the direction of the meeting room, clearly dreading the inevitable confrontation with Batman. “And by extension, I do too,” he adds with a heavy sigh.

You groan, sinking back into the cot, the exhaustion finally catching up with you. “I don’t know why he even cares. If he did, he would’ve figured this out ages ago.”

Constantine glances at you, his expression softening for a moment. He takes a long drag of his cigarette before speaking. “He cares, kid. He just… doesn’t always show it the way you want him to. Doesn’t mean he doesn’t feel it.”

You scoff, though part of you knows he’s right. “Yeah, well, doesn’t feel like it.”

Constantine stands, taking one last drag of his cigarette before flicking it into a nearby ashtray. “Doesn’t matter how it feels right now. The Bat’s going to want answers, and if I know him, he’s going to want to have a very long talk with you. You’re not out of the woods yet.”

You wince at the thought of the upcoming conversation, knowing that Batman’s interrogation will be thorough and far less forgiving than Constantine’s.

“Great,” you mutter, closing your eyes and sinking deeper into the cot. “Just what I need.”

Constantine gives you a small, almost affectionate smile before turning to leave. “Get some rest, kid. You’ve earned it. I’ll deal with the big bad Bat for now.”

And with that, he walks out, leaving you alone in the med bay. As much as you’re dreading what’s to come, you can’t help but feel a sense of relief. Despite the pain and the mistakes you made, you know that Constantine’s got your back. And, maybe, just maybe, Batman does too, even if it’s buried under a mountain of brooding and silence.

For now, though, you let the exhaustion pull you under, trusting that everything else can wait until tomorrow.

As you rest, your body finally succumbing to the exhaustion, your breathing evens out and your mind drifts into sleep. The med bay is quiet, sterile, but the tension in the air lingers, waiting for the inevitable. Eventually, a dark, caped figure glides into the room silently, his form casting long shadows across the walls.

Batman—no, Bruce—stands over you, his sharp eyes tracing every bruise, every cut that mars your face. His jaw clenches as a million thoughts swirl in his head, none of them offering any comfort.

What the hell happened to you? Why are you and Constantine so close? How did you even know Constantine? How much had he missed—how little attention had he been paying—to not notice any of this?

Bruce sighs, a deep and frustrated sound. He removes his cowl, setting it on the side table with a weary hand. Without it, he seems less intimidating, less imposing. He stares down at you, seeing the cuts and bruises marking your skin, but what hits him harder is the way your face, in sleep, is still so achingly young. You're his daughter, and yet it feels like you're a stranger to him now.

How did you get so far away?

He knows the answer. The fault lies with him, with the choices he made, the excuses he repeated to himself—telling himself he was too busy, telling himself he would check in later. Later never came, though, and the space between you widened, until it wasn't just him you were drifting away from, but your brothers too.

Bruce noticed the way your brothers treated you, the harsh words, the cold shoulders. He saw the distance, but he justified it, telling himself it was sibling rivalry or something that would pass. He didn't step in. And now, as he looks at you lying there, bruised and battered from a fight he wasn’t even aware of, the reality sinks in: he has no excuse.

With a heavy sigh, Bruce reaches out, his rough but careful hand carding gently through your hair. The gesture is tender, hesitant, as if he's not sure whether he has the right to touch you like this anymore. But as his fingers comb through your hair, you stir in your sleep, a quiet murmur escaping your lips as you unconsciously lean into his touch. It's such a sweet, innocent moment, and for a brief second, Bruce allows himself to feel the warmth of it.

But the moment is fleeting.

He feels the presence before he sees it, the unmistakable smell of cigarette smoke filling the room. His jaw tightens as his hand stills. He doesn’t turn right away, but his voice cuts through the silence.

“Constantine,” Bruce says, his tone gruff even without the cowl to disguise it.

Constantine steps into the room more fully, leaning against the wall, a half-smoked cigarette between his lips. He regards Bruce with that same nonchalance he carries everywhere, though there's a flicker of something else in his eyes—something more cautious.

"Thought you’d still be brooding over in the corner," Constantine says, taking a drag of his cigarette. His eyes drift to you, lying peacefully on the cot. “Didn’t expect to see this version of you.”

Bruce doesn’t respond right away. He pulls his hand back from your hair, his gaze hardening. "What happened?" The question is direct, but underneath it, Constantine can hear the concern, the frustration Bruce doesn't voice aloud.

"She went off on her own," Constantine mutters, taking another drag before blowing out a cloud of smoke. "Went after a demon. Got roughed up pretty bad, but she handled it in the end. Strong kid. Stubborn too. Wonder where she gets that from, eh?"

Bruce's eyes narrow. "And you let her?"

"Let her?" Constantine laughs, a short, sharp sound. "Mate, I didn’t let her. She went behind my back, just like she’s gone behind yours for who knows how long. Difference is, I’m the one she actually came back to.”

That lands like a punch to Bruce's gut. He doesn’t react visibly, but Constantine can see the tension in his posture.

"I didn't know she was…" Bruce starts, then stops, shaking his head. The words feel inadequate. "I didn't know she was involved with this stuff, i didn't even know she was a meta. Or that she knew you."

"Yeah, well, she found her way to me," Constantine says with a shrug, stubbing out his cigarette on the wall. “And she's not a meta by the way, she's a vessel for some eldritch being"

A vague expression of surprise appears on Bruce's face.

"I don't blame you, mate. I was surprised to find her alive afterwards. Not just anyone survives that kind of transformation, she's strong.”

Bruce crosses his arms, his gaze flickering between you and Constantine. “I know she’s strong.”

“Do you?” Constantine raises an eyebrow, the challenge clear in his tone. “Because she’s been running herself ragged trying to prove it. To you. To herself. And, hell, maybe to me too, but at least I see it.”

There’s silence for a moment. Bruce clenches his jaw, turning to look at you again, sleeping soundly despite the tension in the room. He knew Constantine was right. You'd been pushing yourself, fighting to show that you didn’t need them—that you were strong enough on your own. And he had let you. He'd let you because he didn't even care to notice.

Constantine sighs, sensing the weight of the silence. “Look, I didn’t come here to throw stones. But you’ve got to get your shit together with her. She’s tough, but she’s still a kid, and she’s your kid. She needs you.”

Bruce doesn’t answer, but his silence speaks volumes. He watches you, the soft rise and fall of your chest, and feels the regret gnawing at him.

“I’ll handle it,” Bruce finally says, though the words feel hollow.

Constantine gives him a long look, then nods. “You better. Because if you don’t, she’ll be right back with me..”

With that, Constantine pushes off the wall, flicking away the last of his cigarette. “I’ll check in on her later. Try not to fuck this up, mate.” And with one last glance at you, Constantine leaves, the tension in the room ebbing with him.

Bruce remains, standing over you, his mind a whirlwind of regret, guilt, and the desire to fix what’s been broken for far too long. He leans down, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead—something he hasn’t done in what feels like years—before stepping back, pulling the chair beside your bed to sit vigil over you.

He’s still not sure how to bridge the gap, but for now, he stays. It’s a start.

Well, thats all folks! I really enjoyed writing this au, so thanks for the idea! Maybe ill even make a pt. 2 to this? Who knows? Anyways, I hope you enjoyed it.

#batfamily #yandere batfam #platonic yandere #neglected reader #yandere bruce wayne #yandere damian wayne #yandere cassandra cain #yandere dick grayson #yandere jason todd #yandere tim drake #john constantine #yandere john constantine (kinda)#batfamily x neglected reader #batman #batfam #batfamily x reader #justice leauge dark

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norrisleclercf1 · 3 months ago

Note

Since you wanted more Lando requests 🙊

Could you maybe write something about her surprising Lando by adopting the puppy that chose Lando as a nap spot during the Battersea video? 🥺

A/N: Lando would dieeee

"Thank you so much for doing this," You giggle grabbing the puppy happily and holding it close as it just whined a little bit before settling down, snuggling close. "Ugh, adorable, do he have a name?" The nice lady smiles and nods her head no.

"No, they're young, we just gave them certain collard colors," She says and reaches over and rubs the little one's head. You smile happily and bounce the little one who yawns and paws your fingers. "Such a cutie, going to have to name you," You mumble as you load everything up.

"He's going to Monaco, yes?" You turn placing him in his carrier as you only flew from Monaco to pick up this little baby. "He is, I'm getting him for Lando Norris," The woman's face lights up, "Oh, Lando, the baby here loved him so much and we really tried to convince him, but he said it wouldn't be smart with him traveling so much and said he would need a girlfriend," She eyes you and you smile.

"Yeah, he lies about that part, he couldn't shup up about the dog when he got home, he's been staring at the adoption page for days," The woman smiles, "yeah people tend to think they pick the animal, but really the animal picks the person," You nod as you move hugging her. "Thank you,"

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

Lando sighs loudly, staring at his phone as Oscar rolls his eyes and snatches his phone. "What the hell are you sighing at?" and looks at the phone and stares at the little puppy that says adopted. "Oh, I'm sorry man, but hey at least the puppy probably went to a good home," Oscar says and hands the phone back as their lunch arrives.

"Yeah, just, I really liked him, even picked out a name an all," He mumbles staring at the photo before clicking his phone off, thanking the waitress. "You picked out a name for a puppy you don't even own?" Lando sulks and pushes around his fancy, healthy salad grumbling as Oscar bites into salmon happily.

"Spots," Oscar freezes halfway through a bite and stars at Lando. "Spots? You were going to name the dog....Spots?" Lando nods, "Yeah it's a normal dog name and the dog had spots," He shrugs eating his salad sadly. "You're weird," Oscar giggles and Lando just smiles taking another bite smiling brightly.

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

"Home!" Lando calls and slides his shoes off sighing and trudging into the living room eyes half closed and falls face first into the couch, and groans into a pillow. He hears your feet but doesn't move just wallowing in despair at his puppy being adopted.

Lando groans feeling something wet touch his face and turns opening his eyes and blinks slowly. "Spots?" The dog moves and slowly licks his face and Lando shoots up. "Spots!" He gently picks up the dog and holds him close as the dog yet again quickly settles in his arms.

Your boyfriend looks up, stars in his eyes and moves kissing you softly. "You adopted him for me?" Lando asks and you nod your head. "Yeah, I watched you fall in love, and you've had his adoption page saved on your phone for weeks," You explain and Lando squeals and holds the puppy up to his face. "Hello, my baby Spots," Lando giggles and lowers him back down cradling him to his chest.

"Come on, let me show you where you'll sleep," You roll your eyes, knowing that dog was going to sleep in your bed.

1K notes · View notes

introloves · 8 months ago

Text

𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐕𝐘𝐖𝐄𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓

“allowed” is not a word toji is familiar with. hardly listening to those he has an inkling of respect for- he’s now barely tolerating a “hands off” rule implemented by his coach and you.

boxer! toji + dom! toji + man handling + orgasm denial (m! receiving) + pet names (angel, sweetheart, angel face) + rough sex + toji is a mean, evil man + toji mocks you + mating press + messy sex + reuniting sex + cream pie + overstimulation + size kink + humilation + teasing during sex + praise + f! reader

— word count; approx 6k

there had always been one rule to your relationship with toji when his season was in play. dynamics changing just a bit, because the one rule wasn’t imposed by him; but by coaches- his team advising the best course of action to ensure that he would come out victorious season after season.

and that was; absolutely, under no circumstance- was toji allowed to cum.

you could remember the first time that rule was introduced, naive and innocent to the world of this sport. mouth popping open in surprise when his coach stepped next to you, having decided to join toji on one of his practice sparrings for the first time.

the line of questioning felt odd, wondering why his coach looked over at you with a known smile- like he knew what was going to be said would spark some surprise.

“he’s a beast, huh.” spoken while looking at you from the side of his eye- watching while you squeezed both hands together, trying to calm the uneven thumping in your chest when every heavy swing was directed towards your man.

“mhm.” you nodded, lip hurting from the way your teeth dug in nervously, trying hard to keep your focus on the older man standing next to you while staring at toji.

“i wouldn't worry too much, sweetheart.” he assured, speaking up to let the men know it was a good time to take a break. toji looking over past the ropes at you two with interest, hooking heavy arms against the cords to rest for just a bit, sweat clinging onto the black tee he chose to wear during practice. throwing his coach a pointed look with an arched eyebrow- zeroing in on your sweet face, sending you a wink.

stomach flipping with the cocky attitude that emanated from him in waves, now more with the fact that an angel had their eyes on him.

“you two remind me of when i was younger.” the man chuckled. throwing a rag over his shoulder and turning to face you dead on. “in love, yeah? i can see it.” he mumbled, trying to find the right wording.

“passions high, things get… intense real easy, right?” the coach spoke, after seconds of looking pained by just forming the words leaving his mouth.

finally breaking over the focus you had on your boyfriend- trying to keep the burn down from the way he chose to throw compliments at you, whistles and pet names- even during his precious breaks. your eyes looked at the man next to you, crossing your arms in confusion and interest at what he was telling you.

“yeah?” you answer, inquisitive, trying to find what you had missed to be asked this.

“well, with the season starting- i gotta advise you two to… take a step back. i'm sure he hasn’t told you that there’s absolutely no sex before his matches, right?”

a singular squeak left you, pinching your lips together- the curious stance slowly turning into crossed arms and a burning face. looking over at toji briefly, glancing at his pumped biceps, the sweat trickling down his neck, and the kisses he was blowing you before swinging his head back and laughing into the gym knowing what was being spoken about given your shocked expression. you wanted to strangle him, preferred if this came from your loving boyfriend's mouth, rather than a man old enough to be your grandfather.

“no. he didn’t tell me.” you almost whined, trying to keep composure in the face of the only man toji took any sort of direction from.

he could only shrug.

“it's a conversation you and the boy need to have, take him home- sweets.” the man said, stepping up into the ring and calling over the other man sparring against toji, giving you an opening to snatch your boyfriend away.

“toji.” you whine, walking over to his corner- stepping over the rags and bottles littering the ringside, trying to keep your pout down to a half hearted smile while you looked up at him.

“yeah, angel?” he hummed, crouching down to try and steal kisses from you- quickly discarding the gloves in a messy heap against the ring floor. hands reaching down to cup your face closer to him the best he could with the wraps still on him. tongue eagerly licking against your teeth, biting down on the swell of your lower lip- nearly growling into every push. only discouraged from showing everyone in this gym who you belonged to when you choked out a small noise- embarrassment and heat mixing into a haze that felt heavy in your chest.

letting you go with a final suck of your lower lip, letting his tongue lick at his own- smiling proudly at the dazed look on your face. eyes lidded, face lax and swollen lips glossy.

“coach said we could leave.” you finally muttered out, stepping back with your arms crossed over your chest ‘cause you were foolish enough to let him get close and now you would have to suffer even more than you already were with the rule lingering at the forefront of your mind.

“yeah? i could still go a couple rounds...” toji murmured, looking back at his team- knowing what all this about. sending a frown at his coach, only to be dismissed with a wave.

“mmm, you don't wanna go home with me?” you wondered, sweetening your words- smiling when he huffed and nodded like there was ever going to be anything else he wanted more.

letting him off the hook for the time being for not telling you what was to come… or not to come and for god knows how long.

beginning the routine of putting his wraps away, grabbing a random rag and using that to freshen himself off a little for you- even though you liked him sweaty.

bruised hands, swollen and a little too hot- big and sturdy finding your own when he was finally done. taking you proudly through the front of the gym, like a pretty little trophy that he won all on his own.

and when the two of you were alone, happy enough to bask in his attention- laying pretty before him now that he had showered and changed into nothing but gray sweatpants that were held up by his hand while he walked towards you, peering down at you like he wanted something. eyes widening before you snapped them back up to his face when you saw the unmistakable twitch of his cock hanging heavy between his thighs.

it was almost too hard to cross your legs at your ankles- shaking your head between giggles that crawled up your throat. watching how he bent his body down over you, pressing your hand between his tits; remembering the words his own coach gave him.

“nuh uh, you gotta stay away- boss’s orders.” you murmured between trying to press your legs up between the two of you, back pressed down onto the bed while he grabbed at your ankle and tugged it up against his waist like it obviously belonged there.

toji scoffed, rolling his eyes- hot hands softened only a bit by the shower, rolling up your thigh. fingertips squeezing so hard it made you squirm.

you knew he hated the thought of being denied you, of being told what to do. but this came with the job, and you knew he couldn’t… you two, couldn’t afford to lose any matches. not like he could anyways, but still, you knew if he got too excited beforehand- he wouldn’t be able to put you down and from what you’ve read, it weakened them- men and those in his profession.

“sweetheart.” he mumbled right back when you finally squeezed your foot up against the middle of his chest and pushed, setting him back on his haunches before you. hands coming up to hide from him- not the smartest move on your end because in seconds he had crawled back up; this time using just a sliver of his freakish strength to set any effort aside. letting you know with the previous attempts- he had let you move him.

“nuh uh,” he mimicked right back, “if you’re not gonna let me touch- at least let me see you, angel baby.” toji breathed, pressing his scarred lips to the same hand he had pried from your face, breathing down onto it before dropping it. the weight of him pushing aside any offending limbs to curl down; lips hungry for any taste he could get.

passing them down over your throat and right above the swell of your chest- a kiss so tender it was nearly uncharacteristic of him; like he was apologizing to your body for not doing more.

“your loss.” he groaned before rolling off of you when your hands reached up for him- scorning you like it had been your decision; leaving you gasping and whining.

turning to fight with him before the sight of his hardened cock- straining against the gray sweatpants he had chosen to wear, stopped you. his gaze pinned to the ceiling instead of you, head cushioned by his hands. biceps curling and flexing like he was trying not to move.

shutting down any feeling of anger- seeing now, how much it weighed on him too.

easier to turn around- laying on your side away from him, face hot against your hand; a pout so deep it nearly hurt painted on your face. stomach dropping like it was all your fault- already lamenting about the complications of this.

all before toji slithered a hand against your side, bringing you right to him with no effort. cradling your body to his own, acting like his dick wasn't slotted between the two of you, groaning at the contact but taking no other action.

“this is going to be hell, ain’t it.” he wondered, nose finding purchase along the path he had pressed kisses to just seconds ago. like a dog licking a wound.

“mhm, ‘specially cause you think with your stupid dick.” you murmured- halfway giggling when you grabbed at his hand squeezing against your side rhythmically, bringing it up to hug; your own lips pressing soft passes over bruised skin.

feeling the hot breath of a sigh tickle down your back, trying to keep things light even when the sweetness you both approached each other with was charged.

“actin’ like you don't like it, princess.” toji smiled, teeth bared while a smile played on a face you couldn’t see. wrapping his arms around you further- a pass of his tongue up the nape of your neck causing the frantic wiggling of your body, whining when he didn’t let go.

“how long ‘til the match?” he wondered, speaking above your still kicking body in between barks of his own laughter when you couldn’t budge a singular inch off his hold.

sighing- rolling your eyes when you finally ceded, goosebumps crawling up your back; you went limp and sighed.

“two weeks.”

the next sound was that of a giggle from you when he let out a rather loud note of pure agony- something not like him at all; before scooping you into his arms, like he was trying to absorb your very being into his own, not noticing or saying a thing when the full weight of you nestled right on top his still throbbing cock.

and just to his dismay- the two weeks seemed to drag on. he wasn’t used to being denied your body, futile attempts to just sink the tip inside of you rejected night after night; even amidst the promises that,

“angel face- i swear it’ll be just the tip, won’t even cum, i swear it.” and maybe that would mean something if it was coming out of the mouth of anyone that wasn’t toji zenin.

having gone weirdly sweet when around you, especially after hours of sparring matches- pressing his face too hard into the curve of your neck. or feigning innocence when hands that always seemed to wander crept too close to the apex of your thighs.

his pout, ever prominent when you finally caught on and shifted away from him, trying to keep space so this exact thing didn’t happen. knocking blows to your own conviction, because it was so odd to see him beg and sulk- your man who always stood so tall, unwavering- and a bit mean at times, reduced to trying a compromise because he missed your cunt so bad.

but with the tension building- there was something like a secret being swapped between the two of you. a secret promise that every day would pass faster than the last- and before you two knew it; he was fighting.

the glory of it never waned, sitting ringside in your promised seat in his corner didn’t lose its weight. hands pressed into balls on top of your thighs while the cheering all melted together into one continuous roar.

the ringside walk took too long, but the actual fight itself didn’t. your eyes never leaving off of his form, the twinkling of overhead lights glittering off fractured drops of sweat while he moved about.

all show; knowing if he got close the fight would be as good as over. your own fingers pinched together while you watched, fingernails digging crescent moons into the soft part of your hands- holding your breath while he finally circled in, stepping close and letting just one fist swing upwards to the tired opponent. his coach sat next to you leaned in to congratulate you- as if you were the one who won before the man even fell down onto the vinyl.

acting like this was a dance between the two would have done a disservice to toji, he was dancing; the other man looked like he had been running for his life since he stopped foot inside the ring. your head coming forward to rest against your knees at the sound of the bell- signaling the fight was over.

standing with tears hanging heavy against your lashes while they toted toji about; the veins prominent on his curling biceps with every shake of his gloved fist- showing everyone who’s winning hands they belonged to. something like a smile and smirk playing on his lips when he looked down at you. a promise shared while everyone else was celebrating him.

holding breath after breath in your chest following a small reminder to breathe with every intake; he was yours, but the glory of having a man so hailed and adored by people never ceased.

step after step taking you to the locker room, standing still- nearly biting your fingers with unnecessary anxiety while waiting for him in the room powered by fluorescent lights.

waiting on him while others who wanted just a sliver of attention circled like sharks to fresh meat all the way to the same spot you stood.

too in your head to feel the warmed hands reaching for your upper arm, blinking away the haze and looking at him.

feet awkwardly moving from their previous perch on the solid floor, nearly tripping on the porcelain; exclaiming out something that sounded like his name, trying to remind him to treat you with more care, fragile in hands that still had adrenaline pumping through his very being.

but just like it was difficult for you to keep yourself from dissolving into a bundled mess of nerves, it was hard on him to not act on the all consuming lust growing with each passing second, bypassing any necessary interviews or just plain praise spat in his direction- he had you. it was all he was going to need for tonight.

driven by the single thought, he didn’t stop until you were pressed down into the corner where he had shoved his bag and clothes toji had walked in here with; sweats and a too tight black shirt. hands braced against either side of the metal locker; caging you in, already dizzy with the smell of sweat and a metallic twist.

eye’s wandering down to his body at the thought that this could be his blood.

“whose blood?” you questioned, trying to keep lucid- even while pinned back against the wall, hands roaming down swollen muscles. veins thrumming with heat after taking the ring.

smelling nothing but him and a sickly metallic tang that flipped your stomach over- trying to keep your hands innocent when all you wanted to do was dig in and pull him into you.

damn the eyes still pinned to his back, even while his body crowded yours. no one would look at you if he had any saying in it, and with the adrenaline still coursing through him- he had half the mind to grab your legs and hitch them over his shoulder just to prove a point.

“the other guy’s. but you knew that.” toji stated and it was true; but there was still a part of you searching to make sure none of it was his. even words heavy with discontent- not with you, never, but with the fact that he wanted you and couldn’t do anything about it. not yet.

you nodded, tears already dotting your lash line with how long it had been since you had him, and now all that was left was to wait just a little bit.

“take me home, toji.” you whine, shaky hands leaving a trail of clean skin over the blood splattered on him before wrapping your fingers into his wet hair- tugging on the strands eagerly. lips brushing over the curve of his jaw, breathing down onto his chest. tasting something like sweat and blood, nose scrunching at the thought that he was marred in any capacity. but you knew it wasn’t his, any scrape was miniscule- bruised stomach and side, the areas where his opponent briefly made contact would be gone by tomorrow.

“ah, fuck.” toji groaned, looking up at the lights of the locker room- stomach tensing with pool of lust simmering in his stomach, knowing he would have to calm down, if only a little, if they were ever going to make it out of there.

and when he felt like he could breathe once more, when the tight coil of pure arousal waned enough for him to gulp down lungfuls of air- toji took you home.

stopping for just seconds to grab his check and eagerly pulling you behind him, catching glances of you while he turned around. spoiled and greedy with the sight of you giggling at how eager he was, making you feel just that more special.

it felt like an eternity before you were tugged over the threshold, hands reaching for you before the door closed. body arching down to meet your pouty lips- hungry for you like he's never been before.

denied of you for what was too long- it all came to a halt.

cock pressed against the material of flimsy sweatpants, it begged to have you. pulling away for seconds to actually breathe, toji reached down to pinch your face, tilting your gaze up at him. watching you blink away tears and fit tiny fingers into the space of his palm and your chin, wanting to stop with all the pretense, the wait- the swelling of want.

“toji.” you whined, lips puckering against the dimpling of your cheeks thanks to his fingers still pressing in.

acting like he was mad at you for not giving in, like all of this was your fault- eyes watching to see the simmering lust he had grappled with for nights, and days between when it had been allowed.

the singular word leaving a sour note on his tongue- “allowed”. he was toji zenin- ‘allowed’ was a word that had never pertained to him, and it never would be.

leaning in to grab at you again, like a doll he could have his way with. the sweetest reward for waiting, digging in with extra force with that simmering anger that was flipping back and forth from his stomach to chest, a slip of just how strong he was.

knew it was hard on you too- could feel it late at night when you thought he was asleep to helplessly stick fingers inside, too spoiled and used to what he gave that it wasn’t enough. let you think he was asleep because when you tried and ultimately failed- it did something to him.

hearing you try to stifle whines, hide from him by curling into a ball right next to his heated body. attending to yourself in a hopeless attempt and knowing nothing could compare to him.

his lips peeled back into something that resembled a smile, black tresses of his hair stuck onto his forehead and tickling your own when he leaned in and kissed you.

tongue hot, and strong- it licked inside your mouth, swirled along the sides of your teeth, and stopped right in front of your lips.

caught between breathing and holding it in your burning lungs, treated like a victim of his- the unbridled strength he carried resting just beneath the surface.

you couldn’t tell if you were scared, it felt like it, but there was also a tinge of lust playing right next to it. but you just blinked through that tight grip of panic; it was okay to be scared sometimes, scary felt good with him.

a singular whine escaping between the captured air- bringing down that smile of his once more.

but it was softer, no longer tinged with that seething warmth.

toji blinked, and actually looked down at you- eyes focusing on different parts of what was right in front of him, lips pouty and painted glossy with his spit- fingers still dimpling the fat of your face, your own digits wrapped around his thick wrist in a feeble attempt to pry his hand off.

“cute.”

it felt mocking, like he could laugh at you any second for getting off on how he was treating you; it was so tempting to bite back that it was the same with him, he was getting off on humiliating you like this- holding you open to gaze down at the very chords of your being.

but you didn’t, you were *good* and toji knew that too- it’s why it was so easy to shift the hold of your face down to either side of your neck; fingers pressing into the thrumming veins settled right there. easy to let go once satiating the need to make it hurt, bringing his arms down to where your ass meets your legs to tug you up. letting you wrap your arms around his neck- dependable and strong enough to carry you with ease, trying not to bump into the edges of things while he looked up at you. taking seconds from this moment to simply press his face to the center of your chest, kissing you like you’d even feel it given the clothes keeping you away from him.

your own fingers moving from their hold to ensure you wouldn’t fall to the stray strands of hair littering the nape of his neck. liking the fact that it was getting longer- there was just something about his long black hair you found comfort in; liked it when he was wound down enough to let you run your hands through it- softening the edges of his being with your love.

thoughts of how sweet he was to you, and only you, interrupted when he finally made it into your shared space. unceremoniously dumping you down onto the bed like he wasn’t just adoringly looking up at you, knees dipping down against where your legs folded into your waist; dipping you down with how heavy and big he was. making a show in how slow he was to place his palms against either side of your face.

every movement calculated, like he was waiting for you to comment on the slow pace he’s chosen to take, and just like he thought. it didn't take long to look up at him, pout already forming on your lips.

“toji.” his name whined and already breathy, hands searching for anything that would tug him back up to you. needing him so much it hurt, the singular chord of need seemingly moving any limbs for a chance to entice him further. like he wasn't also panting and wanting.

dizzy when you looked away from his lidded eyes for just a second to see his sweats hanging lower than they had been seconds ago- the imprint of him heavy and low. eyes rolling to the back of your head with the wet lust pooling between your legs.

trying so hard to keep your body from squeezing down onto nothing, stomach clenching in its stead.

“toji.” named whined again, like he didn’t hear you the first time.

“talk to me.” you whimpered, trying to keep a creeping panic down. trying to worm itself up from the odd coil of lust mixed in- seeing him look down at you. jaw set and hands shaking; palms warm and rough against the round skin on the fat of your face. thumbs tracing the start of your hairline over and over- trying not to vocally grunt when the twitch of his cock was so forceful it knocked air from him.

he could only laugh, bringing the pads of his thumb down to swipe under your eyes.

“what do you want me to say, angel?” toji questioned, distracting you with the answer he knew you wanted.

too spoiled and needy, knowing you we’re nothing but a creature of want bundled up with a pretty bow and pleading eyes.

“want me to tell you how much i want you?” toji asked, bringing both hands- finally latching onto the waistband of your bottoms before tugging without restraint of his strength.

pulling you down with the force a good inch before leaning down and placing a kiss to your forehead.

“want me to tell you how i heard you touch that dangerous little cunt, every night? right next to me?” he hissed, remembering it all. tipping over the swirl of emotions settled deep into the pit of his stomach. brought forth with the adrenaline slowly waning, replaced by want.

a hand slipping between both of your bodies to cup at the heat he was just speaking on. pulling fingers away saturated in slick, smiling something sick before pressing his fingers to his lips.

canines glistening against the low light, prying out another uncontrolled spasm- hips jutting off the bed to plead better than any words you could stupidly come up with.

wet mouth coming down, those same teeth catching the soft skin under your ear, bucking once more- hips caught down with those hands of his. waiting for you to notice the heaviness of his cock, freed from any confines, painting lines of lust across the apex of your thighs.

“too sweet.” toji whispered, uncharacteristically, once more. teetering you over that small and tiny space he seemed to shove you in a moment's notice. nose tipping up to breathe, to catch any sort of lucidity you still held.

excitement pumping through your veins with every throbbing push of hot blood, you could see your heart beat now. could feel the swollen and equally hot cock head poke against your swollen little clit, nothing but jolts wrecking through your body with every passing second *he* was making you wait.

and toji was a sick, twisted man- letting you look at him and start another plea before finally pressing himself inside. physically feeling the contraction of your pussy before you relaxed, tears dotting your lashes. swallowing down his name with a cry when his swollen head popped inside, head pressed back into the bed to cry out nothing but his name over and over.

too dizzy to notice the way he picked up your limp legs, hooking them over the curve of his arms before coming back to you. trapping you, keeping you bundled up and tiny.

viscous, teeth gnawing against one another- toji groaned. adrenaline waning, dizzy in his own right, body strung up with nothing but physical strength.

thankful for his own power because the cunt squeezing around his cock so tight- he had to fight to fit inside seemed to sap any better judgment or mental fortitude.

“come on angel- your turn. you talk.” toji nearly bickered, trying to bring the focus back in your eyes. and since he was a sick, and mean man- he enjoyed seeing your face scrunch up, sucking in little breath after little, hiccuped breath.

knocking that focus clear off your face with pistoning thrusts so hard, the jolt itself tempered him through the thick fog of lust and pleasure. barking out something akin to a laugh and groan watching you shake your head and squish your nose up something cute.

how was he ever supposed to stop? how could he ask to keep his hands off you, when you received him so well- even now, while he bullied his cock into your already battered pussy all you did was shake your head back and forth and plead for him to give you more.

hands gripping onto the curve of muscle settled on top his bicep, anchoring yourself to the very thing knocking the wind and thoughts out of your body. feeling the push of your muscles against his hold on you, acting like you were-

oh.

toji has to bite down, gnash his teeth and breathe heavy tufts of air out of his nose to keep himself at least somewhat grounded. watching you twitch weakly, feeling you spray his wiry hair, and coat the sliver of cock that doesn’t fit inside of you with cum. hitching your legs further into the cradle of his arms while he fucks and fucks into you over and over.

“fuck.” the singular word spit out through his gritted teeth, balking with the fact that you came so easy. finding it unfair that you were so sensitive, you who was allowed to touch yourself. who was allowed the little moments of reprieve even if it might not have been with him.

he would have swallowed his pride for the time being, letting you do what you needed to get off.

but since toji is such a nasty, vile man. he knows that’s not true.

lips curling to smile down at you, like you did such a good job for him- making a show of grabbing the back of your knees, and pressing them further down onto the bed.

his eyes pinning yours down, like a wild animal sizing up their prey before pouncing. daring you to look away, wanting you to be the one who pushed through the hazy fog of burning overstimulation.

“that’s it.” he praises, despite what he’s putting you through, unrelenting thrusts, keeping you down small and unmoving underneath him he sees the way you’re slipping in deep. sharp smacks of his balls battering the curve of your ass that has been lifted an inch off the bed the only thing heard, apart from the sharp trills of your cries.

“please, please!” you cry, over and over- too dizzy to even pick your head back up, letting it roll to the side when he comes in close once more. tongue laving at the curve of your cheek, a simple gesture of comfort.

“my good girl. please what?” he asks, the vibration of his words reverberating against your clammy skin.

and toji never expects an answer, this is good enough- you do well enough in your own right to keep somewhat lucid while his thick cock throbs with every push inside.

it feels like an uphill battle from him too, watching every orgasm overtake your body- slowly eating away at the unshakable control he has over his own figure.

wonders why, after everything he’s done bad in his life, is he able to have a little piece of nirvana right here.

toji is gluttonous anyways, has always wanted more than what was offered- from you too. grits his teeth down so hard, even through the haze you can see the vein working its way down his thick neck.

holding off just for one more, one more orgasm from you, pretty little thing.

coaxes it out of you with those snapping hips- thick cock noisily sliding in and out of you with no remorse for the integrity of your walls. battering you into something soft and malleable, shaping the figure of his cock into your tummy.

you cum again, weak- sensitive. barely able to distinguish what hurts and what doesn’t, whole body shuddering in the midst of his strong hold. squeezing around him, beckoning him closer and closer.

in the end it’s worth it, letting yourself get used by him to watch the way he tips his head back- looking at the ceiling of your room before tremors wrack his own body. lips open while he pants out the singular-

“fuck! fuck-“ over and over, sealing himself against you with one last thrust. digging in as much as he can to make sure you take it all- make sure his cum is well received inside of the same walls still trying to push out his unrelenting cock.

and you feel so full, warm and shaky while toji slowly gains his own bearings- having gone limp long ago, waiting for him to come back to you. shivering with every weak throb his cock gives you, like he’s trying to push out every last bit of cum he has for you. the heat simmering low in your very being.

“pretty thing.” toji finally breathes- relieved. whatever pent up energy left now forming into nothing but pure adoration for you. something he had never felt before. coming to him as naturally as all the other mean, vile, nasty tendencies he has.

letting you whine like a little puppy while he lets your legs fall back onto the bed. kissing you, teeth nipping at the curve of your tear stained cheek- lowly chuckling with how shaky hands reach for him. wondering if you know how ironic it is to be begging for the very being responsible for making a mess of you.

“toji.” it’s sweet, called out in a way he’s not used to hearing his name in.

“yeah angel, ‘m here.” he huffs, feigning like there’s effort in bringing himself down to hold you. strong arms used in a manner foreign to their creation- wrapping you up against him.

“you did good, cunt missed me that much?” he wonders out loud, catching a glance at the pool of cum trailing down the middle of your thighs. letting both of you lay in the messiness of it all- too indulgent to clean it off.

watching you nod, eyes heavy- bleary. fucked out like an angel created for just this. his own breathing ragged with the singular pout, feeling your hands grab as if he’d leave.

wonders how the fuck he’d ever get through next season, and the season after that. knowing temptation itself holds its form in the shape of you, right here with him.

toji kisses you- trying to make you the singular thought in his mind. letting you rest before he puts you through it again and again, a creature of indulgence in his own right.

knowing he wants it all; victory and your very being. wonders how you drift off so easy with a man like him looking over you.

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