#LOOK MA! PUNCTUATION!

[tonycries]

WILD WILD WILD

Synopsis. No time like the first time, and his first time with you is enough to drive a man wild wild wild.

Pairings. [SEPARATE] Gojo x Reader, Sukuna x Reader, Choso x Reader, Geto x Reader, Nanami x Reader, Toji x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, first time fúcking you, PÚSSYDRUNK BOYS, BRÉEDING, pússy-slápping, creampíes, true form!Sukuna, dp, GOJO’S POWERS, mentions of having kíds, spítting, praise, cúmplay, vírginíty loss (Choso), proposals, slight chokíng, slightly mean Geto, pet names, swéaring.

Word count. 5.9k

A/N. Hoping you all have a lovely lovely week <3

♡ TOJI FUSHIGURO - Oh baby, baby.

You’ve made it about five absolutely shattered condoms before Toji simply growls and flips you over with such a branding slap! to your cunt - as if it was your fault he hasn’t gotten to ravage his pretty girl already.

Running his tongue over that sinful scar on his upper lip, he’s spreading your puffy pussy lips open with a slow swipe of his thick thumb. Mouth just salivating at that easy, languid trickle of your sweet sweet juices glossing down his wrist. 

“Wouldn’t have even tried so hah- hard with those goddamn rubbers if I knew what ya were holdin’ out on me, doll.” Toji jeers from above, jostling your dangling legs even tighter around his slender waist. Before planting a drippingly wet smack! smack! smack! of his swollen, reddish tip right on the peak of your sensitive clit. “Just look at how drenched that makes ya.”

“Toji–” your honeyed, dragged-out whine makes him just twitch on top of you. Squirming at the way that has him gushing out a saturated puddle of sweltering hot precum onto your pre-soaked cunt. “Won’t you just put it in alre- ah!”

And Toji’s so fucking mean with the way he inches in just the very curve of his fat tip past your gummy entrance, shutting up those cute complaints on your tongue for the most delicious whine he’s ever heard.

“Heh, there we go. Finally- finally.” he gruffs out, moving over the grip of his long digits around his thickened base to wrap around your splayed-out thighs. Such an awful tease - making you do all the work shuffling down the silken sheets trying to milk his achy shaft. “Ohhh yeah- oh my god, there we fuckin- go-”

A particularly harsh clench of your velvety walls makes him throw his head back deliriously. Hoarse, baritone moans wrenching from his chest, “Yeah- you were so fuckin’ holding out. Heh, didn’t know it could feel so good. Feels like heaven, ma. Think I could fuck this cunt for forever-” He drags a hazy kiss down your lips, “Could fuck a baby into ya-”

“Hngh! I-if it-” you’re managing to mewl out, blinking back the big fat tears in your eyes to wrap your limp arms around his neck. “-if it feels so good then why aren’t you fucking me properly.”

Another heated smack! has the imprint of all five fingers of his raising on your flesh, and Toji just shoveling the rest of his long, solid inches into your clingy insides. And- shit, he’s so jaw-droppingly massive. No matter how many times you’ve seen him, taking him is a whole other feeling.

Fuck. This was heaven.

He grunts, “Might be the first time but yer suckin’ me up so- well.”

It’s like your poor pussy was gaping around him, being molded along every tiny crevice of his cock. That slight upwards curve was just spearing into the very spongy depths of your cervix head-on, drawing wet, glossy glides across your g-spot. 

You were finally, finally being fucked by him. 

And it was maddening. 

“Say that again, doll?” he quirks his head down at you after a few heaving breaths to try and stop that pathetic cracking of his words. “Because I think you were hah- s-saying something.” Each word is punctuated by a ruthless thrust, making a sloppy mess of your insides until you could feel the thundering throb of his pumping cock, the sticky thwack of his cum-filled balls on your ass. Toji leans down until his entire body weight was pinning you against the damp mattress, holding you hostage to the way he tugs on your ear lobes with his sharp canines. “Or are ya just too hngh- cockdrunk for it already?”

Smack! 

As if you could speak.

Jaw dangling open, hulking body hunched over, his big beefy arms cage you in. “Awww, come on now. Answer me. Don’t tell me you were ah- beggin’ for my cock so badly for weeks n’ won’t even gimme your pretty compliments?”

You’re barely even able to keep up with his syrupy sweet words, locking your ankles around his waist.

Toji hisses when that slight movement has him jolting even rougher against the bulbous bullseye of your sweet spots. “I-I didn’t-”

“I-I-I didn’t-” he snickers against your lips, swiveling his hips into slow sultry swirls until his fat girth was dragging his prominent veins along all your sweet spots. You’re just keening at that, making your back arch up sluttily into Toji’s muscled chest. “Honestly. If all it took was my ngh- d-dick to make you forget those good girl manners, I’d have done this- much- sooner-”

He’s babbling out just as deliriously as you no matter how much he’d like to pretend he isn’t. Because oh Toji Fushiguro was no match for your pretty pussy.

No match for the way each of his ramming thrusts had every shred of rationality flying out of his honeyed mind, puffs of breath coming out more feverish. Heavier. Words slurring and jumbling together at every fresh coat of your slippery slick down his raw length. 

“Shit.” His eyes lock on your utterly fucked-out expression, he can’t even bring himself to look downwards at how well you’re taking him. “Let’s see how much of a cockdrunk slut ya really are- open that mouth, ma.”

And Toji could almost laugh at how readily your spit-glossed lips sag open for him. Taking it all in one go when he spits out a hot, steady stream of spit right onto your pink taste buds. 

“Yeahh, heheh-” he’s grinning darkly, feeling his tight balls squeeze painfully. Gliding the soft pad of his thumb down that translucent trickle of drool along the corner of your mouth. “Now swallow.” Rock-hard tip mashing against your g-spot in a way that only makes you head his instructions without a second thought. 

“Good. Now you realize-” His rough hands wrangle your boneless legs on top of his broad shoulders, bending down, down, down into the meanest mating press possible. “-that I was serious about fuckin’ a baby into ya, right?”

♡ NANAMI KENTO - “Marry m- take it.”

“Ken- Ken–” your sultry mewls only grow louder, batting those teary eyes up at where Nanami’s got you folded into the firmest little mating press he’d allow himself. “I want more.”

Oh, and he thinks he could pass out. He thinks he’s stopped breathing. Nanami thinks with all his bleary head and his achy, furious dick that he’s going to marry you right here, right now on these expensive silken sheets. 

He’s leaning in close enough to kiss his forehead against yours, sweat-slicked lips clashing into yours in a way that makes your knees weak. Hushing out, “Shhh, s’alright, my love.” And his tone is so sweet that you almost forget the absolutely mean way Nanami was splitting you apart. Your sopping pussy bulging out at the intrusion of his fat, hot girth. “Good girl, takin’ me so well for the first time. Tell me- hah- tell me where.”

And all you can do is dazedly guide his massive hand along your tummy, so warm and comforting. Pressing down where he gets to the lewd little nudge of his thick tip, sheathing in deeper and deeper and-

“H-here–” you’re mewling, big fat tears streaming down your eyes now. Ones that he wastes absolutely no time licking long, languid stripes to taste. He groans at the salty flavor. “Can feel you right here, Ken. Didn’t- hngh- didn’t think you’d be in so- deep-”

Those simple words have Nanami’s body shivering, sucking in a deep, shuddering inhale when his leaky tip just twitches. Convulsing in a jagged little line along the spongy crevice of your sweet spots, he huffs out an exasperated laugh. “What did ya expect, darling?” He purrs, tucking his face into the sensitive crook of your neck. “M’gonna be in even deeper soon y’know-”

And if you thought that he was already rummaging inside you brandingly, he was barely even halfway in yet. 

“Shhh you got this.” Feeding you inch after inch, it’s like it was never-ending. You’ve never been stretched out to this extent ever before, having your cunt all gaping and spread wide open for him. Nanami didn’t even have to crane his head to eye down at you glistening hole, winking up at him sluttily. Just filling you to the brim, the very tip of his drooling cock shoves against your g-spot in an addicted little kiss. Each collision has you slamming further and further up the bed, struggling. Because while Nanami Kento acted the part of a gentleman - his achy dick sure didn’t.

You hips jerk so prettily when he runs a calloused thumb over the very peak of your neglected clit. “You alright, my love? Need-”

“More!” you cut him off with such a cute whine. And it makes his cock act in a way he’d be almost embarrassed about, puncturing deeply into your plushy walls. Leaving a harsh sting of the very divot on his thick tip along your cervix. But it still wasn’t enough. “Please- Wan’ more more more- faster, Ken.”

By now, Nanami knew he was going to marry you. 

Oh, how he was going to fuck you exactly like this on your wedding night. And every night after that and after that and-

“Fuck, I love you-” he sputters out, stealing a few lingering kisses on your needy lips. Depraved. Filthy. Bruising with just how fast he was pistoning into you. “Love you love you- gonna marry you, y’know?” His eyes roll to the back of his head, head throwing backwards when you clench. “Gonna buy us a house, make y’my pretty wife- ah- fuck fuck fuck-”

Whatever’s left of Nanami’s rationality knows how ridiculous he sounds - the first taste of his pretty wife- well, future wife’s pussy and he’s already babbling about marriage. Fuck. 

But you only kiss him back as drunkenly as ever, hungry. Bucking your hips up in a wild way for more. “Mhm- wan’ you to- ah- fuck–” Drool drips down the corner of your mouth, and your eyes are drooping such after every smashing kiss against your g-spot. It’s all you can do to whimper, “M’so close ah- think m’so–”

“Me too-” he grits out, jaw clenching. “Me too me too- hah-”

The raspy baritone of his voice shakes with the incessant smack! smack! smack! of his painfully heavy, cum-filled balls against your skin. Riotous and relentless. Only accompanied by your sweet ah! ah! ah! and those slurping noises from below. 

“Cum inside me, Ken-” you moan, voice shaking into a whine. “Don’ want you to waste a drop, p-please cum inside-”

“Then take it-” he gasps out. He’s clinging onto you so tight, so deep. Fingers moving before his useless mind when his thumb grows steadily sloppier on your clit. Tight circles patterning into a rapid M-A-R-R-Y-M-E-M-A-R-R-Y-M-E-M-A- “Take it like my ah! good lil’ wife.”

And you don’t know who’s cumming first, but it only takes a few more throbbing strokes before Nanami just fills you to the brim with all his warmth. It seeps out of you - thick, velvety ropes of his potent seed that can’t stop spewing from his furious, weepy tip. So red and jolting with each of your constricting squeezes. 

You gasp, waves of your own high crashing into you over and over with every piston of his hips. And leftovers of Nanami’s cum gushes out of you with each buck of your needy ips.

“O-oh my god-” you’re whimpering, dragging your nails down his flexingly broad back. Babbling away cockdrunkenly, “How am I so- full ah-”

Nanami heaves out ragged sighs, pulling out his twitchy tip ever-so-slightly to let his cum form a glossy sheen of milky white between your legs. And he’s so gone, so utterly fucked-out when he swipes his thumb across that creamy puddle. Bringing it up to plug it into your slack-jawed mouth, “Think I s-skipped a few steps into making you a pretty momma before I made you my pretty wife, darling.”

♡ GETO SUGURU - KEEP UP!

“Is that-” Geto hisses, gritting his teeth ferociously, and it’s all he can do to not just throw his head back pussydrunkenly. To all but grip your trembly thighs in two of his rough hands, peering up at you through long, dark lashes. “Is that all you got, gorgeous?”

The only response he gets are your hips grinding down in sticky swivels to smack against his toned ones. Geto’s thighs come up behind you to just squeeze your glissading body, gyrating up even deeper. 

“W-well–” you whine at his mean smirk, your hands greedily dancing upwards to smooth and knead all over his pale, sculpted skin. “-you’re not doin’ any ah- better-”

Fuck, was that the understatement of the year.

It was only the first time Geto was sinking into your sweet, sweet pussy and he’s already so fucked-out. So hungry for more with the way his hips just up ravenously, heady scent making your head spin. Making his head spin - the only thing on his mind right now being why the fuck didn’t he fuck this pretty cunt of yours sooner?

“Heh, thought you said you weren’t all that affected, Sugu?” you’re giggling smugly, which only makes his rosy lips slack open. Wet, gurgling moans being wrenched out with each snap of his hips. It’s only then that you realize - he didn’t even mean to say that out loud. “Wait- You’re not serious, are you?”

“Shut up.”

That vice-like hold on the plush of your hips turns bruising, Geto’s entire body just wracking with a violent shudder until he’s sitting upwards. Hauling you along with him to be splayed out all prettily on his lap, mashing his lips in a simpering kiss. 

“Shut up shut up shut-” he spits against your glossy pout. The only thing he can do is thrust, letting his mouth foam with each rut into your sopping wet walls. Growing harder and harder with each jiggle of your ass against his tightly thwacking balls. “Shut up n’ just let hah- let this cunt speak for herself, m’kay?”

His words catch you by surprise, and the relentless squelch! squelch! squelch! of your slobbering cunt rings in your ears.

You lean down to kiss the very tips of Geto’s reddening ears, “So mean.” 

At your pouty huff, he bullies in two of his fingers into your drunkenly slacking mouth. Forcing you to suck. To shut up. “So mouthy.” he spits. “So so–”

Geto trails off with a guttural groan, big beefy arms wrapping around your convulsing body until he has you pinned to him like some perfect cocksleeve. He’s whining, “Oh, I can’t- I can’t I-”

And before you know it, he’s pulling out all at once, leaving you whimpering at the hasty drag of his thick cock down your clingy walls. Missing him already. 

“I can’t- I need to-” Snap! Geto’s rock-hard dick only engorges even bigger when he tugs on the thin rubber condom covering it, the slap of cool hair mixed with your syrupy sweet juices driving him wild. Rubbing his angrily raw length along your drenched slit, “Please- let me. I need to feel ya for real, please, gorgeous.”

“Yes.” you mewl. “Yes yes yes-”

He’s purposefully leaning backwards on the mattress to shove every inch of himself into your deepest, most sensitive depths. Rummaging his weepy erection inside you until he’s kissing wetly against your sweet spots. And even through his slender fingers hitting at the back of your throat, your whimpers get louder. Pitching up higher. More slutty.

“Hah- ya scream even with my fingers hah- inside your pretty mouth.” His nose breathes a slow, delicate trail down your thundering pulse. “And you say I’m the one fucked-out with jus’ one t-taste.”

He stutters. Geto Suguru stutters. 

The one always so sharp with his tongue, and quick with his words can’t stop his voice from cracking. From bearing you with the full brunt of his pussydrunken gaze, and immediately Geto bites down on his lower lip. Pathetically trying to stop any more of his pretty noises from reaching your ears.

“Hngh- Sugu-” you manage to mumble out around his digits. Dragging up one of your hands to pull roughly on his long, inky hair. “So mean.”

“You’re the hah- m-mean one, my girl.” Geto’s next words come out absolutely ruined. Disheveled strands falling all around your face and sticking to both of your sweat-sheened bodies. His dark brows scrunch together, mouth dry like he’s starved. “So mean- taunting me with such a-a perfect pussy. Holding it-” Those dripping wet fingers inside your mouth make their slow, sloppy trail down to toy with your puffed-up clit. Rolling over gently, and back again. “-back from me for so- hah- so fuckin’ long. Y’know how fuckin’ long I’ve wanted to fuck you like this-” His kiss is messy - salty, it hits you each each juttering slam that he’s tearing up. “-Oh, if you knew you’d be scared.”

He’s sounding desperate. Ruined. 

Each and every one of his sultry swipes into your g-spot making his head throw back, abs clenching with every blissful shiver. You were so hot. So soft. And Geto fucking cursed the days he spent not fucking you right then and there from the moment he first saw you.

“Y-you said that-” your greedy hips push downwards against his saturatedly cum-filled balls. Sparks of pleasure making something so hot coil at the very bottom of your stomach. “-out loud again. Sugu- ah-”

“And?” 

With a smugly smacking kiss against your lips, he’s plowing on, “Can feel how ah- badly ya wan’ me to fill you up. How wet how wet it hngh- gets you to see me s-so ruined like this-” Cold rings of his fingers swirling coolingly inside your mouth - deep. “-my little sadist.”

You moan uproariously, which only makes him chuckle. Low, and hoarse. Dangerous. “And you best believe that when I cum-” Patting your bulging cunt, “-m’gonna have another taste.”

♡ CHOSO KAMO - Too sweet…

“O-oh–”

Choso can’t even bring himself to be embarrassed at the pathetic way his deep voice cracks, the way his pretty pink lips fall into a lewd oh! Eyes rolling to the back of his head, thighs shivering after each shuddering little hump. 

You let out a drunken giggle, feeling the sloshing of his sopping wet precum splatter all along your inner thighs. “Something wrong, Cho?”

“No!” your dear boyfriend is gasping, dewy eyes just wrenching open in a panic. Long, jittery limbs so fearful of losing even an ounce of that hot drag of your puffed-up pussy lips against his swollen tip. “No no no-” His strong arms come around your body, pinning you against where he had you on all fours. “Please don’t take this heavenly pussy a-away from me, baby.”

The words are so hastily spat out, like it hurt to even say them.

You’re whirling your head over your shoulders, glassy eyes spying down at that ragged rouge blush all over Choso’s face, that pussydrunk trail of drool down his lips, the way his achy cock hung so angry and heavy between his legs. Between yours. 

So pretty. 

“Well then, Cho.” His bruised lips just wobble at your sweet, sweet nickname. “Why aren’t ya putting it in already, then?”

“B-because-” his breath comes out in a hot puff against the back of your neck, and Choso takes the languid time to leave such a wet stream of kisses up your arched back. “Because m’worried s’not gonna be all you want, my baby.”

And he sounded so desperate. So needy, holding himself back. 

A deft hand of yours tangles its way into his dark hair, pulling until your pretty boyfriend just keens. Dragging the sweltering hot tip of his swollen cock along your dripping wet slit. It mixes your honeyed juices together with an obscene squelch! 

You steady yourself to just push - ever-so-slightly - down the plush mattress to take a mere inch of him. 

And oh that turns him into such a babbling mess, moans hitching in his rumbling chest. Gasping and stuttering out sultry curses while Choso grabs his hands onto the curve of your waist. Hips reeling - forwards.

It only takes a mere moment before Choso slouches over, pinning you into him until you couldn’t move your filthy hips anymore. But the damage was already done. 

And before you know it, he’s cumming - before he knows it, he’s cumming. Plugging in your tight hole with just his fat tip, he’s sobbing out thick, potent ribbon after ribbon of cum into your overstuffed pussy. So much of his slippery slick seed, hitting your spongy cervix, knocking on your womb. The sheer volume of it that sticks all around his cock in a creamy ring.

“Wait- oh-” he whimpers, voice shot. There was just something about the way your soaked, gummy walls were closing in on him, trying to just suck something delicious out of him that made it unable to stop himself. “Wait- I can’t oh-”

Muscled thighs spreading out even farther on the plush bed, he gives absolutely no warning before just pounding into you ruthlessly. No rhythm or reason at all. Just reveling in the way your slobbering cunt molds all around him, that jiggling smack! of your ass as he fucks you from behind.

“Is this…” he breathes out unsteadily, chest heaving. Hiking up one of his legs to drive his fat tip against the very bottom of your pussy even deeper. To drill across in thorough, wet glides of splashing cum. In wonderment, “So is this what you f-feel like, y baby- hngh! Is this ah- what- what sex feels like?”

He’s so sloppy, and he’s not even trying to be. Having that glossy puddle of cum spread wider and wider underneath your fervently ramming bodies.

“Mhmmm–” you’re batting your lashes at him. 

Choso mashes his lips into yours, groaning out with each sharp hit of his hip bones against the curve of your ass. Whining, “Does- does it feel as good for you?” The hefty swell of his balls grind up greedily into your pussy, getting messier and wetter with every cascade of your juices down his eager length. His long fingers dip down to rub the very tip of your clit. Languidly. “T-tell me, baby.”

And just one swipe of his trembly thumb against your sensitive nub is all it takes for you to just clench, to throw your head back and arch into him even more sluttily. 

“Hngh! Feels so good, Cho-” you mewl, big fat tears of stimulation welling up behind your eyelids. “K-keep going-” 

“Oh.” he sucks in a shaky breath. And you feel the rotund curve of his cock expand even girthier, stretching out the already-taut channel of your pussy. Roughly, Choso’s grabbing a handful of your ass, kneading. And if you didn’t know any better you’d have said his moans were almost pained. “Wait don’t squeeze me like that- fuck fuck fuck- feels too good don’t-”

And when have you ever listened to your poor boyfriend?

It only takes a long, hard clamp around his heated cock before Choso sees stars behind his eyes again, throat run raw with moans of your name. And then he’s cumming - again. At least, whatever sense is left in him thinks he’s cumming.

“Baby, you’re- you’re so mean-” Choso lolls out his tongue deliriously, sucking on your own. Steady tears of his splash onto your skin with each sticky leftover dredge cum shooting out, and you’re left taking each of Choso’s jackhammering thrusts. Leaving you whimpering, being held back to paint your entrance even messier. Until he’s shooting out blanks. “S’only m’first time n’ already so mean.” He swipes a hand over your now-bloated tummy, coating his fingers all over with the absolute sin oozing out of you.

Seconds later, those syrupy fingers bully between your lips. And in a hoarse, husky whisper Choso continues, “You hafta t-take responsibility, y’know?”

♡ RYOMEN SUKUNA - Twin b*tches, twin b*tches

“Both.”

“Brat-”

“Both.”

And while the infamous King of Curses can do nothing but stare down at you with one of his dangerously quirked eyebrows, you take it upon your stubborn self to bite down on Sukuna’s lower lip. Tugging, “Did I stutt- hngh!”

Whatever bratty sentence on the tip of your tongue is being fully overtaken by such one of the most cockdrunken moans that Sukuna has ever heard. Forcing from your syrupy lips as soon as he’s ramming his angry cockhead upwards into your melty insides. 

“Heh, I think ya did stutter.” he’s leering down at you, feeding your drooling cunt with inch after hefty inch of his cock. “First time actually takin’ my cock and you want both? Ya wanna die, woman?”

“N-no–” you’re whining out. “I j-just want all of you-”

In milliseconds, he’s flipping the two of you over - having you thoroughly and deliriously straddled on one of his swollen cocks. You feel Sukuna’s other erection stacked behind twitch at the curve of your ass, gushing out such voluminous amounts of steaming hot precum seeping into your skin. Skin that absolutely thrills when he plants a harsh smack! 

“Don’ say things outta ya slutty pussy, lil’ human.” he growls. Shutting you up with pound after pound, engorged shaft stretching every nook and cranny of your gummy cunt open. “S’gonna end up with me havin’ ta take care of your cockdrunk self and you-” You squeal when one of his four large hands wrap snugly around your throat, hauling you to his snarling lips. “-very, very pregnant with my heir.”

If that was meant to be a threat, Sukuna already knows that it didn’t work.

Because it only made your dripping pussy more drenched, more swelteringly tight around his girth.

“Ohhh ya liked that, didn’t ya?” he grins such a feral grin that shows off those sharp canines. And Sukuna’s taking his lazy, blissful time thumbing your bulging pussy open. “Might jus’ be the first to ever want to take both, greedy lil’ thing.”

“K-una–” you push up your ass against his other matchingly rock-hard cock. “Don’t care. Just wan’ you so bad.” 

“Aww, jealous are ya?” Throat hoarse, chest heaving now, the bulbous tip of his other cock kisses insistently and wetly at your puckering cunt. He laughs, “Heh- No need, brat. Because- here-”

In true Sukuna fashion, he barely even gives you any warning before just hammering up with both cocks into the very bottom of your heated pussy with a pressurized thrust. Twin heads twinging so harshly that they knock against each other, nudging against your g-spot twice. 

He knew what you wanted.

And you were finally getting it.

“Oh.” Sukuna’s red, devilish eyes roll to the back of his head at the way your dripping wet walls were so welcoming. Rubbing up against himself with each shuddering thrust, he’s gripping your chin with another hand, pressing wet kiss after kiss. “Oh you realize that- that m’gonna be filling this cute cunt up hah- twice as much now, hm? S’not too much for yer t-tight pussy the first time takin’ your king?”

He sounded almost…concerned. Benevolent 

And all you can do is nod, taking the sloppy staccato of both cocks spearheading you like no other. Feeling stuffed so full, it was like he was knocking up into your lungs. 

“Lungs, huh?” he’s tittering, and it barely even registers that you’re speaking out loud. “Didn’t think you’d be this cockdrunk.” He babbles away, feet planting flat on the mattress to fuck up even impossibly deeper. “Gonna give ya my heir- two heirs. Hah-”

Just the very thought of it has you stumbling through the very filthiest of bounces on Sukuna’s cock, pathetically trying to meet his feral pace. 

“C’mon now, look at me.” he spits out, leaving harsh bites down your lips, your jaw, your neck. Anywhere and everywhere he could reach without stopping that incessant mashing up against your g-spot with his thickening, throbbing cocks. You’re forced to peer into his greedy gaze. “Look at while I breed you- yeahh–”

“M’so close- Kuna-” you’re mewling, lolling your bleary head down on Sukuna’s push pecs. “M’gonna- hngh- cum-”

For this, you’re rewarded with another stinging smack! onto your ass, before Sukuna easily grabs a handful to drag your drooling cunt up and down his length. “Heh, what a brat. Begged for both my- hah- cocks n’ you’re gonna cum already?” Fucking into you so hard now that you were sure he’d left two matchingly circular bruises on your cervix. “Whatever, cum for me then- but-” His cocks hit the back of your g-spot, making you painfully light-headed, “-ya better give me twins after this, my queen.”

And when you cum, oh it was like you couldn’t stop. Not with Sukuna still dragging you through your high, achy cocks so hard it was like they were about to burst. 

Smoothing against your sweetest spots once, twice before he himself cums from one of his lengths such a throaty moan of your name. And for each white-hot jolt of pleasure, Sukuna was painting you all white inside. 

“Sh-shit-” you whine, pulling him into the messiest types of kisses that you knew he loved. “M’so full- so- so full-”

Not enough, apparently.

Because no sooner are the words out of your mouth that his second, equally as filthy cock was streaming out thick spurts of cum. Staggeringly steamy hot inside you, those sticky sloshes reach your very womb, just slamming up into you mind-numbingly so that Sukuna can be sure it reaches each of your buried depths.

“Would ya look at that.” Sukuna whispers, reverant, almost. Sounding for all the world like he’s so utterly fucked. You follow his line of sight to the creamy sheen of seed drooling from between your thighs, glossy puddle forming underneath you two. 

Still-hard cocks jutting up into you without warning. Hard.“One more. I wan’ both of ��em to cum at the same time.”

♡ GOJO SATORU - 360°

“It’ll be just hah- just the tip.” Gojo puffs out hotly against your ear, powerful hips jittering up in a way that made him feel like such an animal. Rubbing his leaky tip rawly between your swollen folds, “Promise- promise ah-”

Your dazed, blinking eyes stare right up at the absolutely ruined strongest. His cerulean eyes all watery and drooping shut with every tentative swipe up those puffed-up pussy lips of ours. And your head throws back with each pretty peck of Gojo’s rotund head against your clit. Sticky. Depraved. Oozing with precum and the lust to fuck into your cute cunt exactly the way he’s been dreaming of for so long. 

“What are best friends for, r-right?” he whines against your neck, snickering delightedly at the way your squirming hips buck up mindlessly into his. No matter how much you tried to huff and puff your way into pretending that you don’t want it as much as he’s dying for just a taste right now.

“Toru…” you start, in a scolding tone that already makes him twitch. Entire body jolting with excitement, and you feel his heavy balls rested against your thighs squeeze almost-painfully. “We stopped being just ‘best friends’ about twenty make-outs ago.”

And Gojo only rubs his head along your skin like some overgrown cat, sighing out. “Exactly.”

Biting your lip, you can only watch when he shoves apart your thighs even wider roughly. That thick, red tip positioned precariously between your lips weeping and weeping angrily.

You’re rolling your eyes, “Toru just fuck me-”

And then he’s sinking in - pushing past that first ring of resistance, stretching out your elastic cunt so mind-numbingly wide. You can feel him thrust in sticky, filthy little pushes and pulls of his hips - but you can’t see it, no.

Because just a single inch sunken inside your hot cunt was enough to drive Gojo mad. Eyes blowing wide, breath being just heaved in, and the last thing you caught was the briefest little flicker of blue lightning in his eyes before those seductive bedroom lights just burst.

It wasn’t going to be just the tip - and both of you knew it.

“Hah- Woah.” Gojo’s mouth felt dry, heart thundering when he blindly grips your body with a bruising hold. He sounded almost angry, “I didn’t know it could feel so fuckin’ good.” Voice higher pitched and unstable, he winces when it cracks ever-so-slightly at the end. “Hahaha- ohhh fuck, sweetheart. Remind me why we didn’t hngh! do this sooner?”

Oh, the intensity of it was too much. 

Six eyes was rushing at him in full force, and Gojo just hiccups being able to see that outline of his swollen cock enter and split your pussy open. He couldn’t stop. The way that fat, rounded curve was jostling and invading your insides, having your walls melting pliantly around him so good- “Takin’ me so well, especially for the first time. Greedy girl.”

“Oh- oh my god-” you’re chanting, and you feel his cock thicken with each whimper. Blood rushing forwards to mold your walls even wider after each one, gushing out wet honeyed wet precum that sticks to you like a second skin. 

“Jus’ Toru s’fine.” he titters, sinking his sharp canines into the side of your neck. It was like a claim. A little message, because after that Gojo was well into rummaging all around you gripping walls. “Though- I don’t mind if ya call me ‘baby’ or-” Smoothing his rosy lips over in a kiss against your forehead, “-your ‘husband’.”

You smack his sculpted chest, with only half as much strength you’d put into it than usual. “Gettin’ s-so ahead of yourself- hah.”

This makes him glide a greedy thumb along the outer edges of your bulging cunt, your pre-soaked slit- all the way up, up, up to where he could see himself knocking up against your g-spot. 

“Oh, my girl.” he whimpers into your mouth. Those electric sparks of purple and blue lighting up that drunken look in his eyes, the way his abs flex and contort with each ravaging push fucking you into the bed. “With a pussy this sweet m’never lettin’ ya go.”

One of his greedy thumbs come up to nudge at that curving head of his cock, head throwing back deliriously at the lewd little massage. 

You’re just whimpering tearily when his other long, slender fingers dance upwards to tease your sensitive clit, soft pads of his digits unapologetically pinching it. Hard. 

“Wait- are you-” you gasping, sitting up on your two elbows at the sudden jolts of electricity. That tiny humming vibration of jujutsu that sparks all the way from your pre-soaked clit - from those big hands toying with it. It makes you just gush, airy and light-headed when you’re coating him in all your saturated juices.

He was fucking you like he was out of control - just long, animalistic drags of his fat cock down your plushy walls. Massaging himself on each and every one of those gooey crevices at your insides, you were so goddamn addictive. And Gojo was hypnotized.

But he wants more. He needs more.

“Shit- shit shit shit-” Gojo already sounded so utterly wrecked, body bowed on top of yours. His face was unabashed - feral, looking at you like he wanted to positively devour you. “Hope y’know I can u-use Six Eyes to tell whether this pretty pussy’s gonna ah- take- to my seed, pretty girl. Whether yer gonna- ah be bred properly like you should be.” He’s nuzzling at your neck, “So get ready for a mess-”

Cutting himself off with a moan, another sloppy stroke that meshes messily with your g-spot. Gojo grins oh he grins, and you’re suddenly reminded why so many fear him. Why he’s the strongest. In the bleary distance, you think you hear another light just explode. Whispering raggedly, “Because I intend to use it.”

A/N. I feel like every time I write for Sukuna I just HAVE to make a reference to that song.

Plagiarism not authorized.

[makethemhoesmad]

sweet talker

paige x reader

had to hop back on my grind, i’ve been very busy

-

There was one thing about paige that you hated and loved at the same time: her words.

somehow, she had the ability to get whatever she wanted from you, no matter what, with only a sweet statement punctuated by a light caress. 

~

“paigey, honey, you gotta get up,” you say softly, running a hand over the loose strands of hair that had fallen out of her bun. she shifts, bringing an arm up to cover her eyes and groaning.

“no, cmon baby, let’s just go back to sleep,” she whines.

“well, i might go back to sleep, but you asked me to wake you up so you could go study in the library for something.” she grunts, pulling her other arm from under the covers and wrapping it around your waist from where you stand leaning over the bed.

“come back to bed, ma,” she pleads, opening her eyes to look at you adoringly. she just looks so good in the mornings, you think to yourself. her hair messy, t-shirt ridden up to show more than a sliver of her stomach, perfect for you to curl up with. 

“please.” the whine in her voice does it, along with the tight arm curling around you. you climb over her into your bed and lay down, letting her bury her face in your chest. 

“y’know i hate it when you do that, honey,” you say, fidgeting with the fingers on the hand she had placed on your heart.

“do what?” she asks, voice muffled and already sounding sleepy again. 

“sweet talk me into doing the things you want me to”

she sits up, bringing her face close to yours and tilting her head, stating “it’s not my fault you fall for it every time.” she presses a soft kiss to your lips, then cuddles back on top of you and falls asleep almost instantly.

[flrlgreen]

cuck gojo + twt link

link <3

cuck gojo's girlfriend gets destroyed by toji. :3

Squelches filled the room and the only thing you can focus on at this moment is pleasure. The white-hot pleasure in your lower half was so euphoric. The way this huge cock rubbed so deliciously against the velvety walls of your pussy was toe-curling and something you had never experienced before. 

“Mhm, that’s it, Mama. Tell him how much you like this,” The man above you says while gripping the roots of your hair and making you look at the man seated in the chair in front of the both of you. 

It’s Gojo, your boyfriend of many years. 

The man on top of you is a man that Gojo knew he could never measure up to. Toji Fushiguro.

 Gojo was frustratingly good at everything and had everything he could ever want, but he knew Toji had something he didn’t. Something he would never have. 

He didn’t have a big cock. He was cursed with a smaller appendage and he knew that sex wasn’t as enjoyable as it could have been, and more than he’d like to admit it led to fantasies where his sweet girl was getting the pleasure she deserved from a man that could give it to her. 

He found himself cumming to the very thought of you sleeping with his friends and acquaintances. 

The way you’d have to fake moans and even worse – fake orgasms. He knew his girl deserved better, so he proposed this idea. 

“I promise you it’s okay Baby. I know he’ll make you feel good, it's what my pretty girl deserves.” 

“I-I– Fuck!” You cry out when you feel Toji’s cock hit that spot inside you. You can’t even focus or make eye contact with your boyfriend that’s furiously jerking his cock while looking at where you and Toji are connected. 

The way your pretty cunt gushes and squeezes the thick cock inside you made him go feral and fist his cock at an even more aggressive pace. 

You never enjoyed yourself this much whenever you two had sex. The way your eyes would roll into the back of your head while Toji pistoned into your sopping hole was so pornographic. “Come on Ma. Tell him.” Toji says while gripping your ass and kneading the soft globes of flesh while pounding into you. 

“F-Feels so good- Ah– ‘so big!” You make eye contact with your boyfriend’s striking blue eyes. Pupils blown out with pleasure. “Good girl. He could never make you feel this fucking good.” He moans. Not stopping his harsh thrusts. The harshness of his thrusts made the fat and supple flesh of your ass jiggle against his strong body. 

Toji felt like he was in heaven watching your ass bounce while your walls gripped and milked him like a vice. “Squeezing me so tight. You needed a big cock. Your pathetic boyfriend could never make you feel this good.” He punctuates his sentence with a harsh slap on your ass. “Pathetic little cuck. Watching your girlfriend get fucked stupid on my big cock.” Toji grabbed a fist full of your hair and pushed your head into the soft plush mattress. 

Gojo couldn't even form words. His ultimate fantasy was playing out right in front of him; he knew at this rate he wasn’t going to last long. 

“You're squeezing so tight Mama I’m gonna cum–” Toji says with bated breath still holding your face into the mattress. “Keep your arch deep f’me I’m gonna fill this pretty pussy to the fucking brim.” The speed of his thrusts were getting faster and sloppier and you knew he was reaching his peak rapidly. 

The moment Gojo heard Toji’s plan to breed his sweet girlfriend he just couldn’t keep it together. His toes curled while his orgasm washed over him at the exact moment Toji’s orgasm hit. 

The grip Toji had on your hair loosened as he came down from his orgasm while he pulled his softening cock out of your poor abused cunt that was now gaping and dripping with milky white cum. 

“Don’t just sit there cuck. Lick her clean.” 

[thef1diary]

💭 on my mind: I can’t stop thinking about using Charles as a sleep aid (or more like his dick) like just being unable to fall asleep and he wakes up because you’re moving around and he just knows what you need. Just some soft sleepy sex 🥵

Use Me | C. Leclerc

absolutely loved this idea omg I had sm fun with this.

warnings: 18+ smut, very poetic descriptions of sex ngl, unprotected sex, riding, just soft sleepy smut as requested

wc: 660

masterlist

© thef1diary 2024. all rights reserved. Do not copy, steal, translate, or repost any of my work

You lie in bed, tossing and turning, the weight of the day still heavy upon your shoulders, refusing to slip into the comforting embrace of sleep. Your mind racing, thoughts swirling like a storm. But amidst the chaos, you glance at Charles who is still blissfully asleep. One idea persists as you look at him, growing stronger with each passing moment.

His silhouette is barely visible in the dim moonlight filtering through the curtains. He sleeps peacefully, undisturbed by the turmoil raging within you. You hesitate, unsure if you should disturb his slumber, but after tossing and turning a couple more times, the decision is made for you. He moves closer to you, wrapping his arm around your waist and tucking his head in the crook of your neck.

“Can’t sleep, ma belle?” He mutters, his voice deep, lined with sleep while his eyes flutter open for a moment, drowsy and confused.

His voice only adds on to the growing need between your legs, and you press your thighs together in a failed attempt to relieve it.

You shake your head, “no, Charles. Please?” You turn towards him, facing him while your hand runs down his bare chest, feeling every ridge of muscle until you’re stopped by the hem of his boxers. He knows without words what you need, what you crave from him.

Without a word, he turns to lie flat on his back, taking you with him, allowing you to straddle his thighs. Your head buried into the curve of his neck, inhaling the familiar scent of his skin, already beginning to find solace in the rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your ear.

He pressed a kiss to your forehead, before whispering the words that ignited your body with desire. “Use me.”

In the hushed stillness of the night, his touch is like a balm to your restless soul. His warmth seeps into your bones, calming the frantic thoughts that have plagued you, that have taken away your ability to fall asleep. With his caress of his fingers on your cheek, each whispered word of comfort, you feel yourself surrendering to the peace only he can offer.

The desire that sparks between you two isn’t one of passion or urgency, simply just a gentle, tender longing born from the need for connection.

Both of your clothes are quickly shed, punctuated by the sound of your sigh as you sink down on him, pressing your hands against his chest to stabilize yourself. Charles’ hands rest on your hips, urging you with light squeezes, sinful words, and breathy moans leaving his lips.

As the minutes tick by, you feel the tension slowly drain from your body, replaced by a profound sense of peace and thoughts of only him.

He thrusts his hips up a couple times, catching you by surprise, draining your energy even further when he presses his thumb against your clit, rubbing slow enticing circles.

Charles sees your eyes drooping while you struggle to keep up the pace to bring yourself over the edge. He tightens his hold on your waist, pulling you closer before rolling over on the bed to take control.

Still keeping the slow and steady pace, he deepens his thrusts, watching you grab onto the sheets above your head to ground yourself.

In the silent intimacy of the night, you find yourselves entwined in a slow, unhurried dance of bodies, feeling the sweat on your skin gather and shine in the glimmer of the moonlight trickling in.

Soon enough, both of you reach your orgasms, allowing all the tension to seep away from you as the mixed cum drips out of you and onto the sheets below.

As sleep finally claims you, it’s not just the exhaustion that lulls you into slumber, but the comforting presence of Charles pressed up behind you, a beacon of relief in your restless mind. Together you drift off into dreams, wrapped in the warm embrace of his arms.

Taglist: @nikfigueiredo @jointhehunt67 @bokutos-babyowl @sya-skies @charlesleclercsonlywife @dreamingonbed @wonnou @lochnoch @llando4norris @monsieurbacteria6 @namgification @lilymurphy03 @sargeantdumbass @hiireadstuff @racingheartsposts @d3kstar @xjval @namjoonswaifu @isabellewinchester @thedecalcomania-blog @casperlikej @khaylin27 @mlioravanfleet

[jwhitewolfbarnes]

You just wanted to rile him up. Make him ache a little, stop giving in so easily. Show him that his pouty face with those baby blues isn’t all powerful like he thinks it is. You’re starting to regret that a tiny bit.

“Right there, John,” you breathe out as he pumps his hips into yours at a steady pace. His reaction is immediate; his hand comes up to grasp at your throat- applying firm, delicious pressure. He forces you to look in his eyes, “Stop fucking calling me that.” Each word punctuated with a sharp, brutal thrust as he moves your legs higher up on his hips. Your mouth drops open in reaction to his bed-shaking movements. “C’mon pretty girl, ya know what I want to hear. Say it, c’mon baby,” he pants out, staring right into your wide eyed face.

Regret may have started to set in, but it hasn’t fully won you over. Another approach, maybe?

“ah fuck Johnny, feels so good,” you manage to stutter out as he continues his punishing pace. His eyes flash with something and you think you might have won this round… until he stops. He moves to pull out, but you snap your legs around his waist before he can make it out all the way. “no, no, no! please Johnny, I’m so close. Please don’t stop baby.”

He chuckles as he drops his hand from your throat and leans down to press his body almost completely against yours. He kisses you, such a filthy and desperate display. “oh, I’m sorry baby… ya close?” His voice is sickeningly sweet as he mocks you, “if ya knew how to act right, I’d give ya exactly what this pussy needs. but yer being a fuckin brat. I just want one thing from ya, thas it. Ya need ma cock so bad, yeah? Say it an I’ll give ‘im back.” He pulls back, pushing your legs off of his waist with an ounce of his obvious strength. His dick slips all the way out as he grits his teeth and you whine. He maneuvers your legs up, hooking one into the crook of his elbow and stretching it outwards. Those fucking blue eyes, clouded over with lust, roam over your entire body. He smacks the tip of his dick on your clit a few times, before smiling cruelly up at you.

“One word an I’ll fill ya up just like ya need. Only good girls get ta cum, wan’ be a good girl? What’s ma name?” Tears are slipping from your eyes from where you’ve been forced away from the cliff of your orgasm. This is decision time, give in to that pretty face and get fucked within an inch of your life? Or say nothing and be forced to watch him jerk off on your stomach before leaving you without orgasm? Pride be damned.

You take in a shuddering breath, reaching up to card your fingers through his shaggy mohawk. You drag him close enough to kiss, and he comes willingly because he knows the battle is over, victory is his. He grins devilishly, knowing his prize is right on the horizon. You brush your lips against his before locking eyes with him and practically purr out the magic words.

“Please make me cum, daddy.” Before you can even blink, he’s fully sheathed inside you. He’s gripping the fat of your thigh and stomach by the handful. Nonsensical praise and filthy dirty talk pour out of him as he watches every last jiggle of your body’s reaction to him fucking you. He may think he’s won this battle, and sure the round may be a point for John, but you also got exactly what you wanted.

Later after he’s thoroughly fucked you, and himself, into exhaustion, you lie there tucked into his side contemplating the best method of revenge. John is blissfully ignorant to your scheming mind as he runs his fingers delicately along the ridges and rolls of your back. He presses loving kisses into your hairline, content to spend the rest of his night tucked impossibly close to your plush body. Glancing up at his unfairly attractive face, an idea forms as your eyes roam the column of his love-bitten neck… seems it might be time to see how potent John’s power is when he’s finally put on a short leash…

a/n: sorry for the poor attempt at a scottish accent :/

[atinystaypixie]

Talk to Me

Warning: Pussy slaps (we love those), unprotected sex (wrap it b4 you tap it), sexual content nun too crazy it's sex

18+ MDNI!!

Ony walked into your shared bedroom to see your figure tangled in the sheets. He knew you weren't sleeping which gave him the confirmation that you still weren't in a good mood. On a normal night, if you had gone to lay down before him you would turn to greet him to the warmth of the bed with open arms ready to cuddle. However, tonight wasn't a normal night. You had been giving him attitude all day which eventually led to an argument between you two.  Ony was trying his hardest to understand why you were upset to begin with, but you wouldn't take the time to explain. Instead, you decided to give him a "fuck it, I don't even want to talk about it anymore," and storming off.

You weren't one to express your emotions easily and Ony was always understanding of that. He was one to take his time with you and maintain clear communication. It was part of the reason you loved him so much. You felt bad for acting this way but putting your thoughts into words was harder than having an unjustified attitude. 

"Baby," you hear the handsome man call out to you as you feel the weight of the bed sink. He is now sitting behind your back. "Baby, I can't know what's wrong unless you tell me. I've been trying, but I can't figure out what's making you so upset." He says in a soft voice still trying to be gentle and patient with you. 

Again, he is met with silence from your side. Now he lightly shakes your shoulder and you respond with a shrug strong enough to throw his hand off of you. This causes the man to become agitated, that patience that you valued so much running thin. He had been at this with you for hours. After all the space and room he gave you to voice your problems, the man didn't know what else to do with you.

"Ma, Imma give you five seconds to fix yourself before I do." The way his voice dropped an octave caused your breathing to still for a second. The second being too long because you felt his weight disappear from behind you. All too quickly, Ony snatched the cover off and wrapped his hand around your ankle. Your world suddenly speeding as he drugged you to the edge of the bed and sat you up. Curling his finger around your chin and staring directly in your face as he now stood in front of you shirtless with only his sweats on. The intensity of his close proximity makes you avoid his deep glare. He didn't appreciate you not looking him in the eyes causing him to tug your chin before speaking. "Look at me," you shyly met his glaze making him hum in appreciation at your obedience. "This gone be the last time I ask you so don't make me repeat myself. What. Is. Your. Problem?" He punctuated every word to get his point across that he wasn't playing with you.

You start mumbling your response, making him cut you off. Pulling closer to you so that his mouth was directly to your ear and his cheek was pressed to yours, "nah. Nah. Speak up like you did earlier when you lost your mind and cursed at me, baby". Your bottom lip started to tremble, “Daddy,” you whine almost inaudibly. Ony let out a small laugh in a breath of air before pulling back to look you in the eyes and dropping his slight smile. “That was yo chance, ma.”

Ony removed his hand from your face to wrap both arms around your thighs and move you to the center of the bed. He spread your pretty, chocolate thighs giving him access to your clothed pussy. “All day, ma. Chance after chance. Yet you still acting up on me for,” suddenly you felt a sharp slap straight between your legs, “nothing!” Ony finished his sentence harshly after he delivered the slap to your pussy. You tried to pull your legs closed but failed due to his large frame being there, “Daddy, wait-” another slap given to your clothed cunt stopped you from finishing your sentence. “Nah, you didn’t want to talk, remember. Keep doing what you was doing. I don’t want to hear it right now.” Ony slapped your pussy three more times before moving to take your booty shorts off revealing your bare pussy to him. You weren’t wearing panties which gave him the sight of your slick starting to spill from your aching cunt.

He rubbed his thumb down your slit then around your folds spreading your arousal. “Giving me attitude for nun then get wet for me? Cute.” This time Ony gave repeated slaps to your exposed clit making you whine in pleasure and pain. He reached his hand that was now covered in your juices and stuck his fingers in your mouth. You started sucking them as he rubbed them on your tongue holding eye contact with you. “That’s my good girl. Why couldn’t you be like this all day?” He removes his fingers and shoves his ring and middle finger into your dripping hole letting his palm stimulate your clit as he roughly rubs your insides. You grab his wrist trying to slow his actions which causes him to take your hand and pin it above your head. “Move, baby. I haven’t even started with you yet so just take it like a big girl.” He says soothingly, the opposite of the assault he is doing on your leaking cunt. Your voice sounds throughout the room as you moan out from the pleasure he is giving you. Squeezing around his fingers, juices dripping down to the bed. Orgasm nearing you start speaking,”Daddy! Baby, please. I’m going to cum.” That’s enough for Ony to halt his actions and lick your wetness off his fingers.

“You’ll talk for that, huh?” He says unamused. He goes to remove your shirt admiring your brown skin, the perkiness of your breast, and your slightly darker, erect nipples. He runs his large hands up and down your sides to sooth you after the ruined orgasm before bringing one hand to the back of your neck and giving you a kiss for the first time tonight. It’s nasty. Tongue on tongue, saliva swapping, smacking sounds. It’s got you drunk off of him, so drunk you almost don’t hear him say “open your mouth, ma”.  When you do, he grabs your throat and spits into your mouth. He starts kissing you again then trails down to your neck sucking and biting at the skin. Ony takes one of your nipples in between his fingers and squeezes it causing you to throw your head back giving him more access to your neck. Your mouth hangs open letting out gasps and moans which Ony takes notice of. “Oh? Now you can open your mouth? Good, let’s put it to use.” He removes his sweats and leans against the headboard with you now infront of him. Dick hard with a slight curve, vein running down the side, and precum dripping from the tip.

He moves your goddess locs hanging in your face behind your ear and runs his thumb over your bottom lip. In his other hand, he grabs his hard dick and strokes it a couple of times, making you drool at the sight. Ony knows the look in your eyes all too well. You’ve never been one to resist his cock. He bites his lip as he slides his leaking tip over your lips before parting them and slowly guiding the head in. You happily wrap your lips around him excited to have him on your tongue. He pulls back out before pushing your head down on his cock completely. Taking a moment to enjoy the warmness and pulsing of your throat as it adjusts to his intrusion, Ony moans and lovingly rubs your cheek. “Yea, baby. This is a much better use for your mouth.” 

After a moment, he pulls your head off of him and watches as your saliva strands disconnect from him. Ony moves you to lay on your back and aligns himself with your pussy. Rubbing his dick between your wet slit causing you both to moan. Your hips moving against his seeking the pleasure he always gives just to be met with a strong hand stopping your movements as he continues to tease you. “You’ll get what I give you. Closed mouths don’t get fed, but you ain’t never heard that obviously.” He taps the heavy member against your bud and slides it to your opening. Circling the entrance and pushing just the tip in making you suck in a breath. He grabs your legs and puts one over his shoulder and pushes the other one open. 

“You gone start talking now?” He asks starting to feed you slow, deep thrust. Pushing all the way in and pulling almost completely out before starting again. “Come on pretty girl. Tell Daddy what’s wrong.” He kisses your ankle keeping his rhythm, making your brain foggy. You try to speak but it comes out scrambled due to him hitting your deepest parts and being able to feel every inch of him. “Fuck, bae. Please!” Was your response, only focused on being split open by his dick. It wasn’t what he was looking for. Speeding up his strokes, watching you say incomprehensible sentences Ony presses his weight to you and grabs your hands. You squeal out at the way you can feel him rubbing at your sweet spots even more at this angle. He interlocks your fingers and talks with his lips brushing against yours, “come on, ma. Talk to me.”

He suddenly starts giving you harsh thrust. Rough enough that your body jerks and the bed shakes. You can feel him everywhere. Against your lips, between your fingers, pelvis to clit, walls to dick, and his large frame wrapped between your legs. The stimulation is too much. You can’t help but to squeeze around him and squirt, wetting his abdomen and the sheets. He pauses, “now you just pissing me off.”

Ony pulls out and flips you on your stomach with your ass up and face down. He doesn’t give warning, just sliding back in and giving quick, mean strokes. He brings his hands down, slapping both of your ass cheeks at the same time. You’re screaming into the sheets now due to overstimulation. Ony is merciless. Tired of pleading with you and patience gone. He reaches around to rub at your puffy clit causing you to try to move away. He pulls you back, “stay fucking still.” He doesn’t care to hear you begging him to slow down. The only thing he cares about is when he hears your broken rushed out sentence, “missed you!” 

He pulls you up to him, back to chest, “what was that, mamas?” He questions slowly his thrust slightly giving you room to speak. “I just missed you, Daddy. Just wanted your attention.” He turns your head and captures your lips. He smiles and says, “there you go baby. Keep talking to me.” He starts to speed his thrust up again making you moan as you speak, “Just needed - shit- just needed you. Missed ahh spending time with you.” You feel another orgasm approaching, “please let me cum, Ony” you plead with him.

“Go head, ma. I’m right behind you.” He kisses you through your orgasm. Your cum leaking down his shaft as he fills up your clenching hole. Ony lay you both on your sides without pulling out. “I’m sorry, ma. I didn’t know you felt that. You know I would have made more time for you in a heartbeat.”

“I know, baby. I just felt clingy and didn’t want to annoy you.” The man had been working more lately and you were feeling the effects of the extra time spent away from him.

He kisses your cheek and tightens his hold on you, “don’t ever think you annoy me baby. I love you in every way possible. Next time just talk to me.”

✨

Thoughts of a Slutty Virgin - 🧚🏽‍♀️

This was longer than I expected. Ending was bleh. Tbh i didn't even know what was gone happen next

ENJOY!

Pixie's Masterlist

[blackmistral]

Jealousy, jealousy

Alcina Dimitrescu x f!Reader

Warnings: marking kink, strap-on (reader receiving), consented possession, confession?, top&dom! Alcina, bottom&sub! Reader

After a visit from Karl and an invitation to tour his factory, your mistress is determined to show you who's in charge…

Your mistress was merciless. You had seen her killing a lot of people – often to protect you or her daughters – so you were definitely used to it. But she was merciless with you too. When she needed to prove her point or when you teased her as you carried out your duties.

   So, when you made a comment this morning about her brother Heisenberg – her number one Nemesis – she saw red.

   “Karl passed by this morning when I was doing my chores in the hall… He asked me if I wanted to visit his factory more often to see his new creations? Also said that you shouldn’t know it, though… But I thought it best to let you know, mistress.”

   “Excuse me?” Alcina growled, seated at the vanity and applying her deep red lipstick. She turned slowly towards you, siting patiently in the bed. “And may I ask what you gave him in reply?”

   Your eyes widened at her not-so newfound jealousy. “Well, I told him off, of course… Only you should decide who I’m visiting. But he…”

   “Yes?”

   “He insisted, my lady. So, I… I said I would, eventually. Are you… mad at me?” your last words were a mere whisper as you looked down at your lap.

   She seemed to hesitate how to react. Her eyebrows were furrowed, her lips pulled in a frown and her nose slightly wrinkled. If you had to be honest, she was incredibly cute. The Lady in person, jealous about her own brother over her favorite maiden. Such a sight, you thought, a small smile tugging at your lips.

   “You are not to see this… vulgar man. Ever,” she spoke again. This time, she was standing in front of you, looking right into your eyes when you dared to meet hers. “You are mine.”

    And here you were, laid naked on the bed, and legs wide open and tears rolling down your face. Alcina, dressed in a red nightgown – which was practically off due to all the pulling you had done on it --, was going in and out of your pussy at a delicious speed.

   “Ah! Mi- mistress, please!” the squelching sounds down your bodies were horribly embarrassing and yet, you hoped she would never stop thrusting. She was so close to you, driving her strap in and out of your cunt.

   “Tell me what you want, sweetheart,” she said in your ear, her ragged breathing making her even more sexy. Your mind didn’t know what to think anymore, as it was overwhelmed by so much pleasure.

   “I… I need it harder! Please… please! Fuck me harder, Mistress!” you begged.

   The Lady looked at your fucked out face – as this amazing session had begun hours ago – and smiled devilishly.

   “You want me to give it to you harder, huh? Then I’ll give it to you.”

   She growled low, and suddenly you wished you had shut your mouth. Her hips drove themselves at an inhuman pace, fucking you into oblivion. Your high whimpers turned to breathless moans.

   “You are mine. Do you understand? You belong to me. Say it,” she growled in your face, punctuating her words with harsh trusts, and showing her perfectly sharped fangs.

   “Ah...! I’m… I’m yours! I belong to you…” you bared your neck, preparing yourself for the woman to throw herself at it. But she didn’t. The in-and-out didn’t falter in the slightest, but the expression on her face had changed. She had a small, satisfied smile and looked at you as if you were the seventh wonder of the world.

   “Do you mean it?” she asked in a whisper.

   “Of course I… do!” you answered right away, trying not to moan.

   Her smile widened and she kissed you slowly. You whimpered in her mouth as she obviously dominated the kiss.

   “Please, call me Alcina, my darling,” she kissed your jaw and finally eyed your neck. “May I?”

   You didn’t need to be asked twice. “Yes… mark me, Alcina.”

   “Good girl.”

   Alcina lunged at your neck, piercing the skin and drinking your blood vigorously. You couldn’t help but scream at the overwhelming senses you felt: the pain, the pleasure, everything was deliciously too much, and you came hard. The Lady withdrew her bloodied mouth off your throat after some time.

   “Hmm… perfect taste. Such a wonder you are, my dear.”

   As she nuzzled your neck, her hips slowly came to a stop. Her breathing was heavy – as were yours – but she seemed happier than ever.

   “I… am glad I am to your taste, Alcina,” you managed to say in between breaths.

   “I never doubted it,” she smiled. “Do you want me to pull out, sweet girl?”

   You shook your head and put your hands on her forearms.

   “No… but could we cuddle for a bit?” you asked shyly. “I hope I am not crossing a line.”

   Alcina was taken aback by your question but lied down next to you nonetheless and took you in her arms, your head just above her rapidly beating heart.

   “Of course we can. I would love nothing more.”

   Silence filled the room as you tried to catch your breath. Although very pale, her skin was smooth and pale. You delicately ran your fingers on it, below her collarbones.

   “I apologize for my possessiveness. You obviously can do whatever you want, darling. If you wish to go to his factory, I hope you are aware that I will not stop you, as it is not my place to do so,” she confessed, breaking the silence.

   “But I really don’t want to go there, Alcina. I like being here – with you.”

   She released a breath, as if she had hoped you would say that.

   “I am deeply happy to hear that. Knowing that you feel safe around me… satisfies me. Thank you.”

   She kissed the top of your head while affectionately rubbing your sore back. Your eyes felt heavy, and all you wanted to do now was to sleep in her arms.

   “I love you,” you said without even thinking then fell asleep.

   The countess smiled fondly at your words.

   “I love you too, my precious angel.”

thank you all for liking my first fic! this one's even shorter (🥲) but it's my first smut ever 😭 don't hesitate to tell me what could be better or anything! <3

(Bound by Love is already posted on my ao3 if anyone's interested! i'll post this one tomorrow)

[eyesxxyou]

❝ sunshine pt.3 ❞ (hobie brown x male!reader)

｡ﾟ･ ¡ content. hobie x male!reader. reader pretends to hate dislike hobie. gay longing. denial of feelings. switch!hobie. switch!reader. missionary. save a horse ride a cowboy. using cum as lube. hobie being a tease. after your time in the bathroom, it's hard to deny your feelings for hobie. it's even harder to deny when hobie shows up on your doorstep.

Hobie Brown liked you.

He liked you from the very moment he met you. You were responsible, respectable, with enough sense in that brain of yours to last the both of you. You were quiet yet not shy and willing to speak your mind when need be. You were mean but in a nice way, in a way that really showed you cared more than you ever wanted to let on. He might have liked that most about you. Or it would be your lips that he liked the most. After all, he’s finally gotten a taste of them twice now.

You and Hobie met at a party through Riri. She had introduced you two and you had given him a once over and, looking rather unimpressed, dismissed him in the most polite way you possibly could. Hobie thought you to be prissy and stuck up and was ready to dismiss you as well as just that until he saw you glancing at him throughout the night, always within view of him. He knew you liked him right away, simply playing, or convincing yourself, that you didn’t. He thought it was cute. 

You were avoiding him again. More so than before. According to your other shared friends, you weren’t even leaving your apartment. You didn’t want to risk any chance of running into Hobie on the street and being forced to confront your undeniable feelings right then and there.

But you had to talk about what happened eventually…right? You would have to talk to him eventually.

Would flowers be appropriate? Would they make you more upset? Imply something that was never there in the first place? Or would they soothe the undoubted rage you would feel upon seeing Hobie at your door when all you wanted was to be left alone with your thoughts. You didn't need him coming in and stirring shit up but Hobie wouldn't be himself if he didn't stir the pot just a little.

Hobie decided no flowers, not yet, you weren't ready for something like that. It would send you into a spiral, turn you off to any idea of simply talking to him.

He stood at your door for approximately 10 minutes, simply debating if disturbing you would be worth it. Hobie had the chance to make things a whole lot worse but also the chance to remedy your pain and confusion. He would be remiss if he didn’t at least try to make things better between the two of you. So he knocked, nervous for one of the few times in his life.

It was clear you didn't expect him to be at your doorstep when you opened the door. Your bored gaze widened into something of surprise, or maybe that’s fear he was seeing. You didn't hesitate to try and close the door on him but Hobie stuck his boot between the door and the frame to stop you. “Wai’, wai’, sunshine please, hol’ on.” He pleaded softly, sticking his hand through the crack to pry the door open but you had a surprising amount of strength.

“Could you stop fucking calling me that? It’s stupid and annoying.” Your words hold a bitter taste to them. Your lips are pressed into a firm scowl as you look at him. Your hands balled into fist pinned to your sides. “Why are you here, Hobie? I’m not feeling well” You let out a feeble cough to punctuate your point. It’s unconvincing even to you.

Hobie leaned against your doorframe and looked at you with those heavy-set eyes you found yourself thinking about far too often. “Ya haven’ been answerin’ ma calls.” His voice was soft compared to yours. It makes you feel a bit ridiculous for being so angry. But your anger was righteous; you had every justifiable reason to be upset.

“When do I ever answer your calls?”

“Touché.” Hobie tried to play nonchalant, shrugging his shoulders dismissively, shifting his gaze to the side. But — God — if only you knew how anxious he was to speak to you. His mouth ran dry and his palms, usually cool, where now hot and clammy. “But we still need t’ chat. Don' wan’cha goin’ ‘round thinkin’ I was just tryna get off or somethin’.” 

You’re colder than usual to him, scoffing at his every word. Hobie was starting to think you might actually hate him. But if he’s right, and he nearly always is, you like him far more than you want to let on, you always have. This was all denial, a front, a way to protect your fragile world view and delicate self-image.

You turn yourself away from him, eyes shifting, head low. You don’t want to talk. Is it so hard to just be left alone?

Hobie could see you were shutting down. “Look– I’m no’ ‘ere to tell ya who ya are and who ya aren'. ‘M jus’ here fo’ support.” He was gentle, his lips twitched into a half-hearted smile, trying to be friendly and cordial. As much as someone like him can be.

Maybe it’s then that you realized the fact that he was just trying to offer you some kindness at a point in your life where you might have needed it most. You were so unsure of yourself, who you were, what you did. You always knew Hobie wasn’t a bad person, but you never knew he could be so tender.

You pursed your lips and sighed with defeat before opening the door a little more to let him through. His boots made your floorboards creak under the weight of them as he walked into your flat, his hand shoved into the pockets of his spiked and studded leather jacket. He was too comfortable, too cool for your liking. Or maybe you were too tense for his.

You closed the door behind him and crossed your arms over your chest as if to protect yourself. Your body language screamed defensive, closed, unwilling to listen. Your eyes shifted from side to side but never linger on Hobie for long. Back against the door, you shifted your weight from foot to foot, heel to toe. “I don’t know what you think is going on between us, what you think we share, but I’m not interested. It shouldn’t have happened.” You spat out, more at yourself than at him. “It was a mistake.”

Hobie grunted. “Way t’make a guy feel good ‘bout ‘imself.” He wasn’t hurt about it. You were going through a lot right now. And your words said more than you ever cared to say. 

“I’m not gay, Hobie.” You say a little forcefully, watching with a sort of meticulousness as Hobie wandered his way closer to you. You watched him shrug as if it didn’t matter. “So wha’? I wouldn’ call myself gay either, I jus’ like who I like.” He slid his hands from his pockets, his approach still slow and steady. You didn’t dare look away from him or make a motion in any other direction.

“‘M no askin’ you t’be gay, sunshine.”

You swallowed as Hobie reached out and placed his large hand on your hip and closed the space between your bodies. This was the very reason why you didn’t want to be around him, because you knew that if he made a motion for you, you wouldn’t have the strength to pull away.

You wanted him. You wanted him carnally, wanted him the way one being always longs for another. You wanted his hands, his lips, his cock. You wanted all of him and more. Just one more time, one more time and you’d expel him from your mind and you’d be done with it all together.

You looked at him, desperation filling your glossy eyes like tears. “Then what do you want from me, Hobie? I don’t understand.” You don’t understand yourself anymore. You don’t know yourself. All you know is that you're wildly and completely, head over heels, desperately fiending to have him again and you didn't know what that meant about yourself.

Hobie stroked your hip tenderly with his thumb. “I jus’ wan’cha t’like me back. Is tha’ so hard?”

You turned your head away, lips pursed to stop them from trembling. You were utterly terrified. Terrified because you do like him back. You like him more than you ever wanted to let on. Everything you despise about him, his saunter, his carelessness, his full laughter, his smile, is truly everything you adored about him and he had seen right through you the entire time.

“I do like you.” It feels so good to get off your chest, to finally say it out loud. You look at Hobie, eyes hard yet glassy. Your lips are pressed firmly.

Hobie didn't understand. “Then wha’s the problem?” If he liked you and you liked him, why were you so against being with him? It wasn't like you’d lose your friends, they were totally accepting of queerness if not queer themselves. And so what if anyone else judged you? You never cared about anyone’s opinion before.

“I thought you were the most annoying person in the world just a few weeks ago. I still do. So what if we like each other? That doesn't mean we’re meant to be together. I’ve known myself well all my life. I’ve known what I wanted, who I wanted, where I wanted to be-”

“This is ‘bout’cha feelin’ like ya don' know yerself anymore?” Hobie scoffed. “Things change, sunshine. Life happens. Grow up.” It was harsh, but you needed to hear it. You liked men, Hobie specifically, men generally. Who cares? Not him, not your friends, not the people that matter in your life. “If I like you and you like me, wouldn' i’ make the most sense for us to at least try to make sometin’ outta this?”

You were silent. Utterly and terribly silent. You didn't know what else to say. You felt ridiculous for holding on to this idea of yourself that you’d never live up to. You couldn’t believe you were admitting this but Hobie was making sense. Who cares if you like men, like him. Sure, it might come as a shock to everyone but in the end, what does it truly matter?

You look at Hobie with big eyes and your hands reached out to pull him a little closer. Who cares, you told yourself. The guilt still ate away at you but with time, you knew it would go away.

Hobie deemed it safe to kiss you. He was cautious, easing his lips onto yours, tender and innocent until it wasn’t. It was all the sum of their parts. Lips, teeth, tongue, passion, drowning desire. You reciprocated with the same timid carefulness of someone unsure of how to be gentle, how to be intimate without being aggressive.

Hobie’s fingers curled into the fabric of your shorts, pulling you closer until your body was flush with his. Your arms fell over his shoulders, fingers mindlessly scratching at the nape of his neck while your teeth nip softly at his lip piercing. He pressed you to the wall much like you had done to him that night in the bathroom and pressed his body closer to yours. You didn’t mind that all his spikes in studs were digging into your flesh. You welcomed his sharp abrasiveness.

You guided Hobie to the couch, where the two of you fell into a tangle of limbs and caressing touches. Hobie was on top of you, his large hands still on your hips but slowly beginning to roam about your body while the two of you kissed. 

Fuck, he was hard already but so were you so it made the matter all the less embarrassing. Your arousal only made him harder, more desperate for you. Hobie’s hands grasped at your hips and waist in an act of worship, before sliding between your legs to palm at your aching cock pressing against the front of your underwear.

“Hobie~” you whined softly, moaning onto the fullness of his lips before your tongue sought out his once more. “Fuck, fuck, just like that.” You should be embarrassed by how desperate you are, you both should. Your hands ferally tug at each other's clothing, just enough to get your cocks out and rutting against each other. His was bigger than yours, thicker, with veins running along the sides. He was uncut and pretty. And the direct comparison of your sizes made your cock twitch and leak onto your stomach. His precum dripped down and mingled with yours.

Hobie was not shy about rutting his hips and rubbing his length against yours. Your hands continued to pull off clothing after clothing. His vest, your shirt, his pants then yours. Until you both were totally nude, minus the spiked collar Hobie still wore.

“I don’t– I don’t know what to do.” You said between bated breaths and eager kisses. Hobie pressed his hips down against yours and you whimpered just slightly. You felt his smooth yet scarred skin under your palms and felt at ease. You looked at him almost pathetically and felt your face grow hot as Hobie rolled his hips into yours and chuckled at you. The leaky tip of his cock rubbed the underside of your mushroom head and you shivered.

Hobie’s lovely lips kissed your cheek and began to hover over your jaw and down your neck. “I’ll show ya, sunshine. We’ll take turns, yeah?” He suddenly became as sweet as sugar, so sweet you could taste it on your tongue when he kissed you again. “I’ll show ya how t’do i’, then you can do i’ t’me.”

He was so gentle when he touched you, but you writhed and squirmed with every trace of his fingers along your body. “Do ya have lube?” He murmured against your flesh as he kissed a small sweet spot at the base of your neck. You nodded, a bit slowly. “I think… It’s somewhere in my room. I never needed to — fuck — use it before.” For the life of you, you couldn’t remember exactly where it was. Your brain was too fuzzy, Hobie was starting to move his hips faster and the way his cockhead rubbed yours was starting to make you delirious. “I can’t remember,” you murmur hazily. “I can’t remember, I can’t remember. God, please don’t stop.”

“Yer actin’ like this ‘n ‘m not even fuckin’ ya yet.” Hobie chuckled lowly into your ear. It tickled and you weren’t sure if that’s what made you shiver or the way he wrapped his lithe fingers around your cocks and squeezed just enough to apply a perfectly delicious amount of pressure.

You couldn’t help but to roll your hips into his hand while Hobie thrusted his forward. He watched the way you huffed and whimpered, almost whining. You squeezed your eyes shut and simply let yourself feel his length against yours. His tip rubbed yours, precum leaking onto your slit. It was just enough to make you come undone.

You didn’t even know you came until you felt it pool all over your tummy. Your eyes opened, bleary and out of focus as your cock twitched. You reached down, looking up at Hobie who was pushing his hips in shallow thrusts. He was close, you could tell just by the way he moaned, deep and pretty like he was singing just for you.

You reached down and dragged your thumb over his dark tip, pressing against his slit and rubbing in short, tender strokes. Hobie’s hips shuddered and his lips parted just enough to let out something of a guttural groan. “Fuck– ‘m close, sunshine. Yer doin’ so good.”

Hobie came soon after you, with a few more short rubs of his tip, he spilled out all over your hand and tummy, his cum pooling in with yours into a large, milky puddle. It was warm, a bit more viscous than yours, came out in globs that landed on your abdomen.

Hobie leaned in and kissed you once again. You melted into him, your hands cupping his face to pull him closer. “Please fuck me, Hobie.” You plead with him, panting into his mouth with a desperation you’ve never before known. You parted your legs wider, exposing yourself to him, offering yourself to him. You looked so handsome like that, legs spread and cum on your belly. “Use our cum if you have to. Please, I need it.”

He was taken aback by your eagerness to be fucked. “This’ll be ya first time bottoming, yeah?” You nod sheepishly. Hobie smiles that smile you’d usually scoff at but now, all you could do is marvel at it. You swooned at it, your lips pulling into the smallest smile of its own. “Will you let me fuck you after?” You ask in the smallest voice as if you were almost embarrassed by your request. But you couldn’t help it. “Please, I really wanna fuck you.”

“Awww ya wanna fuck me, sunshine?” Hobie crooned at you. He laughed robustly as you slapped his shoulder and turned your face away. “You can always leave, dickhead.” He kissed at your neck and chest, nipping slightly at your skin. “You don’ wan’ me t’do tha’.” Hobie continued to kiss at your neck while dragging his fingers through the puddle of cum on your tummy.

Your lips parted and a small gasp left you as the pad of his fingers circled over the tight rim of your puckered hole.

“Ya wanna prep first, jus’ tease i’ open.” Hobie pressed a singer against your hole, listening to your soft whines as his finger eased into you. The intrusion felt odd, but not bad. He whispered for you to relax. “‘M no’ gonna hurt’cha.” He gathered more cum and made sure his path was nice and slick. “‘M gonna add another finger.”

“Just do it— please.”

Hobie wasted no time sliding another slickened finger into your taut hole, his eyes watching the way you bite your lip and stifle a whimper. His fingers didn’t search for your prostate, his cock would do that work for him. He was just focused on opening you up and ensuring that you’d be ready to take him. Your hands gripped his shoulders. Your face twisted, not exactly with discomfort. It was a feeling you could get used to with time.

Hobie and that dimpled smile that grove you mad. You almost wanted to say something but every time you opened your mouth, you simply cried out. “Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me.” You were desperate, every desire you’ve ever had spilling out of your mouth, every fantasy you’ve had about him since that night in your closet. You wanted him to fuck you, you wanted to fuck him, you wanted you bodies to melt into one another.

And when Hobie pulled his fingers from your wanton hole and gathered more cum to spread down his length, you prepared yourself for an unbearable pain. You’ve seen porn like this but no one has ever been nearly as big as him. 

He placed his tip against your wet hole, looked at your face for any sign of pain, and slowly eased himself in.

Your mouth fell open and your back arched as you whimpered. You could feel him splitting you open, parting your tight walls to make space for him. Your walls were molded to his cock. Hobie groaned above you, hands gripping at your hips and thighs to ground himself. “Ya feel so good, sunshine. Bloody hell. Stay still f’me.”

But you couldn't, you wiggled and writhed with something of discomfort and pleasure. His intrusion was not exactly welcome but certainly not discouraged. The sounds that left you were ones you’ve never heard before. They were new and unknown, whiny and loud as Hobie pressed against something soft and sensitive inside you. Suddenly discomfort was welcome and you needed more.

He pressed his hips flush to yours, rolling his hips and offering shallow thrusts that made him poke and prod at that spot that made your toes curl. You tossed your head back, eyes rolling back into your head, fingernails sinking into his flesh. “Hobie, Hobie, Hobie.” You whimpered as he buckled down and pulled out only to fuck himself back into you.

Hobie was desperate, ravenous, trying so hard not to hurt you while also satisfying his need to have you. He loved the way you sang for him, your whiny moans growing higher with each thrust into your hole. You trembled and you sang and you opened your legs wider to feel him deeper if such a thing was really possible. You could feel him in your throat, choking.

Your orgasm came so quick you hardly had the chance to say anything before you were squealing, your cock leaking more cum onto your tummy with a few hard twitches. Your mind was so hazy, but you had enough sense to hide your face in the bend of your elbow to hide from the embarrassment of coming so swiftly.

You expected Hobie to laugh at you, tease you for it. But he gently took your arm from you face and leaned down to pepper kisses across your heated face. “I’s okay, sunshine. I’s ya first time. Only right you’d be sensitive.” His fingers traced up and down your side as he placed his lips on yours and kissed you with a tenderness you still couldn’t believe he was capable of.

“Y’want me t’keep goin’ or do y’want yer turn?”

He made you feel safe and comfortable. As comfortable you could be having sex with another man.

“Can you ride me? I wanna look at you.” 

Hobie chuckled, slowly pulling out of you with a pop that made you shiver. “So obsessed with me.” Your lips tugged into a lighthearted scowl that soon faded as Hobie scooped up your cum from your abdomen and reached back to prep himself, slowly sinking a finger into his ass, soon followed by another.

You watched, dazed and amazed, admiring the contours of his face as he let out a breathy little moan. Hobie smirked at you, “like what’cha see?” You didn’t have enough sass left in you to pretend that you didn’t. You just wanted him, to feel him, to make him cum like he made you cum. You wanted his pleasure, wanted him.

You sat up into a sitting position and watched as Hobie came and straddled your lap. Your hands found purchase on his boney hips and he looked into your eyes as he stroked your cock with his cum-covered hand. “Le’s see how fast I can get’cha t’cum this time.”

“You don’t have to rub it in my face.”

“No’ rubbin’ i’ ya face, sunshine. I jus’ think i’s cute.” Hobie leaned down and kissed you again, just a peck that left you wanting more. He settled down and positioned your cock against his hole before slowly and carefully sinking down onto you.

It felt different than being with a woman, tighter, warmer, less wet. A moan ripped from your throat, your mouth falling open to gasp and shudder. Your hands stroked Hobie’s sides to soothe yourself. “Fuck– Hobie~ God, you feel so good.” You were gasping for air, breathless. Your cock was still sensitive. You’d cum in no time.

Hobie grinned, settling into your lap, rolling his slender hips into yours. He rode you slowly at first, drawing out noises no other person has ever made you vocalize before. He cooed at you, his lips on yours, his tongue in your open mouth. Then he rode you hard and fast, with the skill of someone who knew exactly what he was doing.

You were borderline pathetic. Rendered down to nothing more but a gasping, whimpering, drooling mess. You should have more self-respect, but Hobie was taking any semblance of it from you. His hole squeezed you tight, a vice grip that left your eyes rolling. “Ngh, mmh~” You were writhing beneath him, hands gripping, nails sinking into flesh.

You held Hobie close. His chest to yours, his cock slapping against your wet abdomen, his fingers laced into your hair. There was something so terribly intimate about it, how close you two were. The desperation on both parts was thick in the air, hot with the smell of sweat and sex. When Hobie stopped kissing you, a string of saliva connecting your lips. You two looked at each other and you felt as though your face had been shoved into lava.

Hobie grinded his hips down and his head lulled back. You had touched his soft spot and he let out a pretty, baritone moan. He squeezed you tight and stroked your cock softly and just as Hobie had suspected, you came, without warning. You had meant to cum on the outside, your hands attempting to push Hobie off of you when your cock began to twitch, but he seemed intent on staying.

You came inside, nice and deep, your hips shuddering. Hobie groaned, low and loud, and came onto you stomach and chest.

You both were left panting, tired and suddenly sore. Hobie looked at you, waiting for that moment where it all switches and you realize that you’ve made another mistake– where you suddenly become cold again. You looked up at him, eyes unsure but softly pleading for reassurance. “Please tell me this wasn’t a mistake.” Your voice was nothing more than a whisper.

Hobie got up off of you and sat on his heels beside you. His hands traced imaginary shapes into your cum-covered chest before leaning in to litter pecks across your face. “I’ wasn’ a mistake, sunshine. Nothin’ we did was a mistake.” His lips finally found yours and you didn’t hesitate to kiss him back. His lips soothed you.

“Le’s see where this takes us. We don’ have t’put a label on i’ righ’ now.”

You looked rather sheepish, turning your head away from him. “What if I want to put a label on it?” If you were going to do this, you wanted to do it right. You wanted Hobie to belong to you and you to belong to him. “Don’t get me wrong, you still annoy the hell out of me and sometimes I want to knock you over the head with a frying pan, but I want us to be something.”

There was that smile, that gorgeous, charming, irritating smile. It was so cocky, so arrogant, so Hobie. You adored it.

“Then le’s be something’.”

[risingoftime]

AGAINST ALL ODDS | CORIOLANUS SNOW X PLINTH!READER | CHAPTER THREE

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TW - descriptions of death (Sejanus) & hanging/strangulation, night terrors.

Sejanus' trembling body materialized before you upon the wooden platform amidst the grim presence of the hanging tree. His once robust body now appeared frail and bruised, bearing the unmistakable marks of beatings, and starvation seemed to have drained the vitality from his once vibrant frame. He stood, a testament to the hellish spectacle the Capitolites had subjected him to be. Sejanus struggled to hold back tears; his voice desperately cried your name, yet no sound would escape his arid lips. An invisible force rooted you to the spot, rendering your limbs motionless despite your earnest efforts to break free from this immobilizing grip to reach Sejanus. 

The peacekeepers marched steadily past you, and a chilling lull descended, punctuated by the haunting sight of Sejanus standing at the precipice of his fate. They tightened and adjusted the noose around his vulnerable neck with methodical precision. Fear etched deep into his widened eyes, the anticipation of what awaited him palpable. The weight of the moment bore down upon you, beads of sweat tracing a trail along the nape of your neck as a surge of nausea threatened to release. The harsh finality of the situation washed over your being.

Sejanus resignedly mouthed a sorrowful apology, his wordless cry cutting through the heavy air. And then, an irreversible shift transpired with breathtaking swiftness. The ground beneath him gave way, dissolving into oblivion, the sickening sound of his neck snapping searing into your consciousness, an unshakeable echo of his death.

Your eyes snapped open to see Tigris pinning your arms onto the mattress. Blinking against the dim sunlight, you managed to stammer, "Tigris? Why are you in my room?" your voice came out hoarse.

The worry in her eyes was unmistakable. She loosened her hold on you slowly until she let go of your arms completely, her hands slightly trembling.

"Your screams... I heard them from downstairs," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "I was bringing your dress in, and I feared...I was scared something terrible had happened to you." She paused, swallowing hard. "Then, I found you... sleeping, but your body thrashing in the sheets as if you were trying to escape something. Are you okay? Has this happened before?"

She sat down on the edge of the bed, her silhouette outlined by the soft glow of the sunlight peering in from your window. It made Tigris's blonde hair look like a halo on her head. However, her gaze didn't waver from you, the anxiety written plainly on her face, promising not to leave until she was sure you were safe. Seeing Tigris in this state made you sad. You didn't mean to let anyone else see you like this. 

"Just a nightmare, that's all. It used to happen every night since-" Cutting yourself off, It was difficult to say his name, not after what you had just seen. "I only get like this when I'm stressed." Tigris still didn't appear convinced by your response. Your nightgown stuck to your skin from the sheen of sweat on your body. You couldn't imagine how horrible you looked and felt in front of Tigris. Suddenly, painfully aware of yourself, you pulled the sheets above you as an act of modesty. 

"Where's Ma?" you asked. 

"She stepped out to run last-minute errands for the event tonight. She called me to help you get ready and, well, you know the rest." You half-expected Tigris to leave, respecting your privacy. But she pressed on. "I used to have dreams like yours when my parents died during the rebellion. It took me a while to cope with their death. I still struggle sometimes. You can talk to me, you know? You're my family too now." 

With a comforting pat on your thigh, Tigris rose from the bed. "I'll give you some space to freshen up. Meet me downstairs whenever you're ready." Her words stayed with you as the bedroom door closed with a faint thud, plunging you back into reality.

Today is your birthday, the day of your wedding shower— another reminder of your upcoming marriage to Coriolanus. The date was impending faster than you had hoped, and there was no sign of it stopping. Young marriages weren't uncommon in Panem post-war, but you had naively hoped for more time before earning the title of someone's wife. More time, much like you had wished for Sejanus. His life was taken from him at eighteen, the same age you were now. That's when it struck you: Sejanus won't see you off to get married, nor would he be there to watch over your kids and be the fun uncle you know he would be. 

You silently wept in bed, overcome by grief. This day was meant to be filled with happiness; it was anything else but that. You felt shame, aggressively wiping away the tears that poured from your eyes like a waterfall. You knew wallowing in bed would solve nothing. Yet, facing the world with red, swollen eyes filled you with dread. It would be an unspoken confession of your struggles, a silent admission of your turmoil. And you couldn’t have that. Ma would need you to keep it together. She’s already lost one of her children. 

Mustering your remaining energy, you got ready and adorned yourself with makeup before descending the stairs to join Tigris. In front of you, an awe-inspiring dark crimson red dress adorned a mannequin. The tulle gown exuded a celestial aura like the night sky had woven into every stitch. Handcrafted with meticulous attention to detail, shimmering pearls embellished the fabric, creating a mesmerizing constellation effect. The dress's form-fitting bodice gracefully accentuated the mannequin's curves before cascading outwards from the waist. Its sheer beauty left you speechless, your mouth agape in disbelief.

Turning to Tigris, you asked, "Did you make this?" Tigris smiled widely and nodded. 

"I hope that you like it. The pearls are handsewn and thoroughly placed to sparkle with your every move." Tigris says. "Come and hurry and put it on! I can't wait to see it on my muse." Tigris didn't show any distress cues from earlier or fawn over your every move. She offered a place of comfort as you stripped down to your undergarments and stepped into the gown. It fit like a glove, which was impressive, considering Tigris hadn't taken your measurements. Her eye for detail is astounding. The corset of the dress pushed your breasts up, giving the impression that you had more cleavage and a smaller waist.  As you gazed at your reflection, a gasp escaped your lips in awe of the masterpiece Tigris had created. "If I were to die in this dress, I would die a happy woman," you whispered. The sight of you was truly intoxicating, and in this dress, you felt a sense of confidence and accomplishment immersed around you. The person who stood before the mirror embodied a timeless beauty. You could envision yourself as someone suitable to be seen on the arm of Coriolanus Snow, the young man rumoured to be the next ruler of the Capitol. Without another thought, you brought Tigris into a hug. "Thank you, thank you, thank you!" She held you closer with her warm embrace. An excited shriek pulled you apart to find Ma with Coriolanus. 

"Oh gosh! My beautiful baby girl is all grown up."

Coriolanus exhaled in surprise at your appearance. His eyes trailed from your face down to the heels that you wore. It was one of the rare times that Coriolanus was genuinely speechless. Tigris cleared her throat, “So… what do you think?” Coriolanus finally pulled himself out of his entrapped daze and faked a cough to hide his lust-filled expression. But it was too late. You have already seen it.

"You look beautiful." Coriolanus wore a suit in a similar shade to your dress. Tigris must've tailored his outfit to cater to yours. “Tigris, You've outdone yourself,” he said.  From the outside eye, you were well suited for each other and made a good-looking couple. It would be easy to fall into the fantasy you have been presented with. Yet it didn’t change that it was all a fallacy; Coriolanus had only agreed to marry you for the money. It was damn easy to forget all of this when Coriolanus flashed you his dazzling smile and wrapped his arm around yours to escort you out of the penthouse to your wedding shower and birthday party.

Coriolanus whispered to your ear, “And before I forget, Happy Birthday.”

𓇢𓆸

The event was hosted in an extravagant lounge. There were rows and rows of velvet red sectionals and opulent jade banquettes. The lighting around the room was soft and illuminated the lush plants and countless influential figures of Panem that filled the space. Your name and Coriolanus’s were etched on a banner for all guests to view. Your parents had invited almost everyone that you’ve known. The Dolittle family socialized with Dr. Volumnia Gaul over a glass of champagne. While Eris Dankworth and her family kept to themselves, overseeing and judging the festivities that took place. Some of the University and Academy professors were in attendance as well. President Ravinstill could be seen at the far corner, seated at a private table with his wife. He was the man who'd granted our departure from the Districts when your father sided with the President by providing munitions to the Capitol. The President wore his prewar military uniform like a badge of honour. The gall of it all made you feel unsettled. 

You observed Coriolanus closely, gripped by his ability to captivate everyone around him with his calm demeanour and impeccable manners. Whenever he engaged in conversation, his eyes would light up as if each person he spoke to had just said the wittiest remark he had ever heard. It was awe-inspiring to witness. A part of you was taken aback. This side of him was rarely revealed in your presence. The Coriolanus you grew to know had disappeared. This one was fun-loving and easygoing. It was a version of him that made you reconsider if he was all bad, like you initially thought. 

"Must I say Coriolanus, you've snagged yourself quite the catch? Miss Plinth appears to be Sejanus's better half." Dr. Volumnia Gaul smiled much too widely after her comment. She had a sneaky habit of appearing when she was least anticipated. It made whatever she had to say sound ingenuine and cunning. Your spine stiffened at the mention of Sejanus from his former professor. Coriolanus rubbed small circles on your lower back, a meek attempt to distract you. He returned Dr. Gaul's smile. Before you could devise your retort, Coriolanus replied, "Thank you, it'll be an honour to call her my wife." He looked upon you with a glint in his eye, something that you hadn't noticed before, admiration or possession? It was hard to decipher. His gaze travelled down to your exposed breasts, and the desire on Coriolanus's face made you feel feverish. Undeniably, a new side of Coriolanus was in front of you. 

"Fate is a funny thing, isn't it Coriolanus? The Plinth family lost a son, to soon gain another." She smirked as if she knew something you didn't, "I'm curious to see how this union will be fair in the future. Best wishes to the both of you." And with that, she departed to refill her glass of champagne. Coriolanus kept his hand around your waist. His hold on you was unshakeable, and his face turned straight. 

"Are you alright? What was that all about?" You asked. 

"Nothing, Dr. Gaul is quite peculiar in how she expresses herself." His glare didn't wander from her figure as she walked through the crowd of guests. 

"So I've heard, Sejanus would talk about her briefly after class and in his letters." 

"Letters?" Coriolanus faced you incredulously. The thought of Sejanus sending his younger sister letters during his time in District 12 hadn't crossed his mind. 

Suddenly, the lights were cut, and the crowd gasped in shock. In the distance, you could see Ma and your father holding a cake with eighteen lit candles making their way to the booth you sat at. Everyone erupted in song, singing You Happy Birthday and began to gather around. 

"Make a wish, Honey," Ma said. Your father flagged down the hired photographers with box-like cameras that appeared chunky and heavy to the eye. Flashing lights surrounded you as they fired shots at your every move until the last candle was blown out. You could see Romulus standing beside his brother with a big grin. The similarities were uncanny. He shook a blue velour box and mouthed, "I got you a present." Eris Dankworth stood not too far behind them and watched the moment unravel. 

“How about a kiss from the soon-to-be newlyweds?” Eris yelled out with a sickening sneer on her lips. She couldn’t help herself. “Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!” she began the chant amongst the guests. Anyone would think she did it all in good faith and fun. But you knew. It was a reminder of the conversation that took place in front of the Academy. 

With all eyes on you, there was little option but to comply. It would be odd not to. 

“Well, Mr. Snow,” you shyly peeked up through your wispy lashes, and Coriolanus stood tall, towering over you with his height. "Let's give them a run for their money." He softly nestled your face in his hands, his touch both consoling and electrifying. You sensed a slight tremor in his hands from anticipation. As his plush lips met yours, the kiss began tentatively, as if you were exploring unknown territory. Coriolanus pulled you in closer, pressing your bodies together until there was no space between you. Not knowing where to place your arms, you instinctively wrapped them around his neck, cultivating deeper access and connection. An unfamiliar warmth spread throughout your body, igniting a desire you hadn't experienced before. Nerves fluttered in your stomach. This was your first kiss. Your first kiss is with Coriolanus Snow, and damn was it a good kiss. It was unclear who moved away first, but looking at your Ma, you could see her with clutched pearls. 

Coriolanus chuckled silently beside you, "Wow, I didn't think you had it in you, Miss Plinth. You're just full of surprises." Your elbow connected with his ribs, although this didn't stop him from laughing. Amid your embarrassment that your parents had seen you practically make out with your fiancee, you excused yourself to go to the powder room. If you found Eris alone, you would surely give her a piece of your mind. You were navigating through the crowd with mindless “thank you’s,” and the half-assed hugs were beginning to get on your last nerve. You just needed a quiet moment to yourself. Someone followed behind and caught your hand as you freed yourself through the exit doors to the restrooms. 

“Hey, I’ve been trying to get you alone all evening. It's like chasing a rabbit in a hay field,” Romulus said, slightly panting like he’d just run a marathon. He appeared strikingly handsome in his tailored midnight blue suit, a perfect complement to his dark hair and captivating features.

“Haven’t you heard? It’s unbefitting of a lady to be seen alone with a man who isn’t to be her husband, especially with the wedding date around the corner,” you said.

“Oh, please don’t tell me you’re letting Dankworth get to you,” Romulus wrinkled his nose when he uttered her name as if he smelled something horrid. “Besides, I like you better when you're defiant. It keeps things interesting in this dull place.”  

You rolled your eyes at his statement. Of course, he did. That was before. When you could afford to do whatever you pleased and live your day as your own. "What do you want, Rome?" you asked. He didn't track you down to chat. 

"Geez, did that kiss get your panties in a twist too?" Romulus snickered. You shoved him and snorted at his mortifying question. Romulus always knew how to make you laugh. 

"Oh God, please shut up! What was I supposed to do?" 

"I don't know, give the guy a peck, maybe?" Romulus's smile widened at your reaction, and he rummaged through his pocket to pull out the blue velour jewelry box from earlier. "Besides, if you didn't run out of there so quickly, I wouldn't be able to give this to you." He placed the present in your hands gently, like a delicate flower. 

"Rome, you didn't have to get me a gift-" 

"I know, but I wanted to. Open it." He nodded towards the box, motioning you to untie the bow that was wrapped around it. 

Inside held a beautiful gold locket necklace that looked like it had cost a fortune. Intricate swirl patterns were engraved into the locket, with hearts nestled beside each other. When you opened it, your favourite picture of you and Sejanus was inside. Romulus had taken the photo of the two of you that day in the sun. You wore a childlike grin in the photograph while Sejanus slung his arm over your shoulder, sporting a crooked smile. His pure essence is captured eternally, frozen in time just for you. This was the Sejanus that you remembered. Your eyes welled up with tears, and your throat became tight, making expressing your overwhelming gratitude to Romulus nearly impossible.

Romulus knew this and seemed prepared. He offered you his handkerchief. "Would you like me to help you put it on?" he asked. You nodded, as words still escaped you while you dabbed the corner of your eyes, careful not to smudge your makeup. Romulus lifted the necklace, and it glinted in the light. Turning your back, he clasped the locket around your neck, which lay flat between your collarbones. A piece of Sejanus will always be near. 

"I think this is one of the best gifts I've ever received." you sniffled. 

"Even better than the horse your father bought you as a kid?" Of course, Romulus would try to crack a joke. 

"Even better." You took Romulus into your arms, holding him close and snugly, "thank you, Rome."

"Romulus, we need to stop meeting like this!" Coriolanus exclaimed with no humour behind the mirth in his voice. Peering over Romulus's shoulder, you could see him close the doors to the lounge behind him.

"Meeting like what?" Romulus asked. 

"With you, all over my fiancee." Coriolanus scowled at Romulus, tracking his every move with his glare. 

"He wasn't-" 

"I wasn't all over her, Coriolanus, don't be dramatic. I was merely giving her a birthday gift, and I didn't know that was a crime." Romulus raised both his hands in mockery as if he would be arrested. Your heartbeat began to pick up in pace. Little did Romulus know the severity of consequences that might lay ahead of him for taunting Coriolanus, even more so now that Coriolanus had seen Romulus holding you in his arms not too long after kissing him.

Coriolanus hid his malicious intent almost too well, "I know a couple of people who would beg to differ." There was a hidden meaning behind his choice of words. "I simply just came out to let my fiancee know that her parents are looking for her to make a toast before the guests begin to leave." Coriolanus turned to face you, making direct contact with the heart-shaped locket that embellished your chest. It made you feel naked under his scrutiny. 

"Yes, I'll be right there to join you soon. I want to say goodbye to Romulus. He was just leaving." 

Romulus caught on quickly about what you were hinting at and agreed, "Yes, I was. The only reason I came was to drop off her gift." He gestured towards the box in your hands and smirked. 

"Safe travels," Coriolanus muttered under his breath and turned to enter the lounge, but not before calling over his shoulder, "Please be quick. I'd hate to keep your parents waiting." 

When Coriolanus was out of sight, you hit Romulus upside his head. "Idiot! Why do you keep trying to get a rise out of him?" Romulus knew better. Coriolanus was not the type to engage in direct conflict. He would skillfully maneuver himself like a serpent, slithering to strike his opponents from behind when they least expect it. 

"You can't possibly believe that he'll make good on his threat." As suspected, Romulus didn't take it seriously when you told him about what Coriolanus said to you if he were to touch you. It would help if you had been wiser and not caught up in the moment. Getting caught up with Rome was a stupid mistake. 

"I don't know. But I'd rather not find out now. All I can do is hope that Coriolanus was bluffing." 

“The idea of you marrying him doesn't sit right with me. What do you even like about Coriolanus anyways?” Romulus sounded frustrated and perplexed, his hazel eyes filled with concern. 

Like was a strong word. You tolerated Coriolanus when needed. Still, the only things that you observed of him were from afar and through your brother until now.  

Sejanus was quite the optimist when he was ready. Coriolanus had always shown indifference towards us, the Plinths. He did not agree with my classmates' taunting but did not wholly disagree. Remaining neutral meant nothing to you, especially if said boy was Sejanus’s friend. What type of friend was he? An opportunist? Yes, for sure. But Coriolanus did not show much proof of friendship other than the tattered photograph he kept of them during the games and the letters Sejanus had written about Coriolanus to you. If you hadn't known any better, you would've called it a naive school crush that Sejanus had. Pa always chose to pay no heed to what displeased him, and Sejanus publicly grieving his childhood first love, Marcus, was undoubtedly one of them. 

Yet, you couldn't deny the chemistry you shared during the kiss. There was the possibility of growing to be fond of Coriolanus. This was likely at a different rate than your relationship was going. 

"I don't have to like Coriolanus," you sighed. 

"Well, you at least have to if you're going to spend the rest of your life with him," Romulus argued. 

"Rome, please, I don’t want to talk about this, not on my birthday." Your head began to pound from the onset of stress that returned to your body. One night, that's all you wanted. Romulus could see the tension rise within you and apologized. 

“I’m sorry; I didn't intend to damper the mood. Enjoy the rest of your night, and we’ll talk tomorrow.” Romulus surprised you by planting a small kiss on your forehead and departing shortly after. To see him leave so soon left a pit in your stomach. It was an unpleasant feeling. The more pressing concern was still present: would Romulus survive the wrath of Coriolanus?

𓇢𓆸

That question kept you up at night. The rest of the party was a success, although Coriolanus was in quite a sour mood for the rest of the event until we were escorted home. He'd returned to his usual self, only uttering a sentence in your direction if needed. After finding you in Romulus's arms, you partially expected him to be more brash towards you. It unsettled you when he was silent. 

Ringing from your landline telephone alarmed you. The only person likely to call you this late would be Romulus. There had to be something wrong. 

"Hello?" 

"You're awake." The voice sounded surprised that you had answered the phone.

"Coriolanus, why are you calling so late?" 

"Come let me in. I'm coming to your door." His words lightly slurred together.

"Corio-" you raised your voice in protest, but the line dropped. The flippant guy hung up on you. 

You rushed down the stairs in your silk robe as quietly as possible until you heard knocking at your front door. When you opened the door, revealing a dishevelled Coriolanus, his blazer was discarded and still in the dress shirt he wore to the wedding shower with a few extra buttons loose. "Shut up, will you! You're going to wake up my parents. Hurry and come in." He stumbled past you to sprawl out on the couch, faintly smelling of white liquor. Thank God the Avoxes weren't live-in help. 

"Have you been drinking?" you asked. 

Coriolanus pinched his thumb and pointer finger close together in response to your question. 

"Be honest, would marrying me be that bad?" Coriolanus's tone was soft and gentle. He looked tense and a bit unsure of himself. Even in this state, he looked handsome; it bothered you that Coriolanus didn't even seem aware of it. 

"I don't know," you answered honestly. "I can't imagine sharing a life with someone I don't love, regardless of their last name. I always thought I would fall in love with someone like Ma and my father. They grew up on the same street and started dating in their early teens. And I would raise a family and grow old enough to tell my grandkids stories of how I had loved and lost and met my greatest love of all, their grandfather." It was a small dream that wouldn't come true in this lifetime. 

"I can love you," Coriolanus retorted.

"You're drunk." You sat in front of him on the carpet. 

"So? I know I can love you better than Romulus. That guy couldn't wait to get his dirty little hands on you, and of all things, he got you a locket in the shape of a heart on the day of our wedding shower. I should strangle him with my bare hands, and I would do it again to any man who dares to lay a finger on you and what's mine." Coriolanus stumbled through his sentences, and if it weren’t for the last comment, you would've thought it was cute.

"Not this again. Are you jealous of Romulus? He's a friend, and it was a thoughtful gift, hardly romantic." 

"He's one of your only friends, and he makes you smile. You don't even laugh when you're around me. I should be the one that you want to lean on. I'm the one who will be your husband, not him." Coriolanus ran his fingers through his hair in frustration. 

"You sound like a child. I'll get you a glass of water," getting up from the floor to walk to the kitchen, Coriolanus took your hand in his to stop you. 

"Wait, don't leave. Let me prove it to you: I want to take you on a date." 

That earned laughter from you; it burst out of you and was hard to contain. “That’s hilarious coming from you, Snow.” But Coriolanus didn’t laugh, and his face became sober.  

Coriolanus expressed his sincerest intentions, “I’m serious. It’s still your birthday weekend. I’ll take you out to properly celebrate. I know tonight wasn’t ideal.”

You raised your eyebrows, still skeptical of him, questioning, “Why? So you could handle your vendetta?”

Unfazed by your disbelief, Coriolanus grinned, "No, it would be for you." His words lingered in the air. You were baffled and intrigued.

The room was momentarily silent, giving you time to process his response. You couldn't help but wonder what he meant by it. Was there a deeper meaning behind his words? Although you searched for clarity, you were eager for Coriolanus to continue, hoping his inebriated self would go into more detail. Yet, his face turned paler than usual, and his blue eyes met yours with focus. 

“I’ll take that glass of water now. I think I might be sick.”

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[mendesblurb]

We were staying in Paris

Shawn Mendes x female reader

Warning ⚠️: mostly fluff, maybe grammar error and maybe some punctuation errors

Word count:~500

A/N: The story idea and concept are classic and predictable; your girl just couldn’t help but write something inspired by this picture. Also, it’s three weeks late; better late than never? And this is my first story in 2024? 🙈 P.S. Should I write a longer and maybe some more steamy story with this picture? 🤪

——//

In the heart of Paris, in a hotel room with a balcony overlooking the city that served as the backdrop for a love story as it was unfolding in the early hours of dawn. You lay nestled in the warmth of the bed beside your boyfriend as your fingers intertwined with his. As the first tendrils of sunlight filtered through the curtains, Shawn stirred awake, his eyes blinking open to the soft glow of morning. 

He savoured the moment's stillness a little while before gently extricating himself from the embrace, slipping out of bed, and heading to the bathroom. The cool floor beneath his bare feet offers a refreshing contrast to the warmth of the bed. He was going to return to bed, but instead, he made his way to the balcony, drawn by the promise of a tranquil morning amidst the bustling city below.

As he leaned against the railing, taking in the breathtaking view before him, he couldn't help but marvel at the beauty of the Parisian skyline bathed in the soft hues of dawn. The Eiffel Tower stood tall and majestic in the distance, a precious sight. Lost in thought, he reached for a cigarette, the flame casting a flickering glow on his face as he took a contemplative drag.

Unbeknownst to him, you had stirred awake in his absence, your gaze lingering on the spot where he had once laid.

There you were, quietly making your way to the balcony, and you found him lost in reverie with the smoke curling around him like a halo in the morning light. With a soft throat clearing, you announced your presence, a playful glint dancing in your eyes.

"Good morning, stranger," You greeted, voice laced with amusement as you wrapped your arms around him from behind.

A little startled, he turned to find you standing before him, a radiant smile lighting up her features as he leaned in for a kiss.

"Good morning, ma chÃrie," He greeted back before discarding his cigarette and nestling closer. It didn’t take long for his eyes to linger around you, and eventually falling upon the shirt you were wearing, a mischievous twinkle lighting up his gaze, “I believe that’s my shirt.” 

"Oh yeah, I hope you don't mind," You began, fingers tracing the fabric of the shirt, "I may have borrowed this from you,” You continued slyly as your lips curled into a grin as he took in the sight of you wearing his shirt, the fabric draping over your frame in a way that seemed almost too perfect.

"Shirt stealer," he remarked, his voice tinged with sincerity as he reached out to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

Moments later, as the sun continued its ascent, casting a golden glow over the city, you both remained on the balcony, lost in each other's embrace and the beauty of the Parisian sunrise. 

"By the way, I'm never returning this shirt,” You added, breaking the silence with a mischievous grin. 

In response, Shawn just chuckled, his eyes sparkling with affection, “Thank you for letting me know," he replied, pulling  you closer than before, “But It looks better on you anyway."

——————————————————————————

Thank you for reading guys... feel free to like, reblog, follow my account, leave a comment and my chat is always open for random chats or requests... appreciate every single one of you... ❤️

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Story Code:05042409

[munson-blurbs]

Single Dad!Eddie x Fem!ReaderSeries

Day 10 of TUI-Mas

Warnings: pregnancy, a Harris tantrum, working through tough feelings

WC: 1.5k

Divider credit to @saradika

October 1999

“I don’t wanna go!!!”

Harris’s wail reverberates throughout the apartment and pierces your eardrums. You reflexively squeeze your eyes shut, shaking your head as though clearing away the sound. 

“C’mon, Har,” you coax him, gently kicking his Skechers in his direction; bending down and picking them up is currently out of the question. “Don’t you want to see Ettie? Auntie Viv told me that she wants you to push her on the swing again!”

Your appeal to his love for his little cousin is fruitless; he sulks away and slams his bedroom door shut with a bang. Frustration and confusion lodges in your throat, and you walk as quickly as your new center of gravity allows. “Harris, what’s going on?” Your hand massages your lower back as you lean against his door. “You know you can’t just go around the house slamming doors.” When there’s no response, you huff out an irritated sigh. “Har–”

“I hate you!”

The three words form a heavy pit in your stomach. You’ve had a student or two declare the same–usually when you announce it’s time to clean up their toys or inform them they can’t have a second cupcake–but you can’t deny the internal sting when Harris says it.

Being eight months pregnant certainly doesn’t help, either.

Heat burns in your chest; you’re trying to bring him to the park, and he’s slamming doors and screaming at you like you’re inflicting torture upon him. “Harris Wayne Munson!” you snap before you can stop yourself. 

“I hate you and Baby Brother!” He punctuates the statement with a stomp of his foot that’s sure to have your downstairs neighbors filing a noise complaint.

You take a deep breath, mustering up all of your patience. “I’m gonna count to three, and then you’d better open this door.” Your socked foot digs into the carpet, composure difficult to maintain. “One…two…”

The door swings open. Harris stands before you with tear-stained cheeks, sniffling and struggling to catch his breath as he speaks. 

“I d-don’t wan-wanna go t-to..to the playground!” He begins crying again, even more hysterically than before. Mucus streams from his nostrils in rivulets, and you instinctively wipe it with your jacket sleeve before it reaches his lips. 

You lead him to his bed so you can both sit. “Why not? Did something happen when we went last week?” There were a few children there besides him, but he hadn’t really interacted with any of them. When Harris nods, you pose your follow-up question. “With the other kids?”

“N-No,” he shakes his head, “with you.”

“Me?!” There’s no hiding the shock in your voice. “What did I do?”

He inhales shakily. “You d-didn’t play with…with me!” His eyes land on your bump, and your heart sinks. You remember him asking you to chase him, but given your newfound pregnancy waddle, you’d had to decline. 

“Not until after Baby Brother is born,” you’d told him, watching as he’d walked away, dejection written all over his face. 

“Oh, Har,” you say now, tongue thick as you search for a way to reassure him. Nothing bothers you more than being unable to solve a problem. “I’m so, so sorry. I know we usually play together, but it’s not safe for me to be running around right now.” You pause, desperate for a solution. “But I can watch you play?” It comes out like a question, not definitive enough to be convincing.

Harris stares down at his feet, swiveling his body back and forth. “That’s not the same,” he laments, and you know he’s right.

“It’s not,” you agree, “and it can be hard when things aren’t the same. But there are good changes, too.”

He wipes his eyes with the back of his hand, looking at you with intrigue. “Good changes?” A gentle wrinkle in his nose emphasizes his curiosity. “Like what kind?”

You ponder for a moment before landing on an idea. “Like…going for a Mommy-Harris donut date after we go to the playground.” Nudging his shoulder with yours, you grin and add with a whisper, “Em and Abi’s has a new apple cider-flavored donut that Baby Brother has me craving all the time.”

Harris giggles at this. “Okay.” He turns slightly to face you, holding out a pinky. “Promise?”

You hook your little finger around his and grip it tight. “Promise.”

The donut shop is filled with people, typical for a Saturday afternoon, but you and Harris manage to snag a table in the corner. You pinch off a piece of apple cider donut and drop it into your mouth, cinnamon and sugar and nutmeg seeping into your eager taste buds. 

“You know,” you say, licking some crumbs off of your thumb, “we can still have Mommy-Harris dates even after Baby Brother is born.”

Harris’s eyes light up at this news. “Really?” He smiles wide, taking a bite of his chocolate frosted confection, sprinkles tumbling onto the sheet of wax paper below it. 

“Mhm. Daddy can stay home with him while we hang out together. Just the two of us.”

He licks icing from the corner of his mouth before chowing down again. “Yeah, and maybe Baby Brother can come with us sometimes, too.” He furrows his brows and hurriedly adds, “but not all the time.”

You hum in acknowledgment. Harris continues eating, unaware of the way you’re studying his movements. The little boy who sat at your kitchen table and struggled to recall letter sounds now reads nearly at grade level. Pizza Wednesdays are still a weekly tradition, but he’s no longer just a visitor in your apartment. And now you’re his Mommy; an equal to Eddie when it comes to parenting. Which also means…

“So, Harris…” you give him a look that can only mean one thing, “we need to talk about you saying that you hate me and Baby Brother earlier today.”

He nods. “I don’t hate you and Baby Brother,” he mumbles, lightly kicking his feet against the table’s underside. “I was just so mad.”

“I know. But being mad doesn’t mean you get to hurt someone’s feelings.” You sip from your cup of herbal tea. “And you know how to tell me when you’re angry.”

“Yeah.” He sighs, nervously chewing the inside of his lip. “Am I in trouble?”

You bite back a laugh; his pleading gaze is almost cute enough to get him out of a punishment—but not quite. 

“I’m afraid so.” 

“Oh. His face falls as he eats the remainder of his donut, mouth full of cakey goodness. “Like, big trouble?”

You hold your fingers a few inches apart. “Medium trouble. No TV for two nights: one night for saying you hate me and Baby Brother, and one for slamming the door.”

Harris purses his lips in contemplation, but there’s no sign of the trembling that precedes his tantrums. “Fine,” he grumbles, though you’re fairly certain he’s only conceding because he won’t be missing any new episodes of his favorite shows. He glances at you with wide eyes. “Do you still love me?”

“I’ll always love you, no matter what,” you reassure him. “Don’t you ever forget that, okay?”

“Okay, Mommy.” He manages a little smile. Everything’s okay, if just for this second.

After dinner that evening, you’re squeezing a bottle of Dawn over a sponge while you scrub dishes. You’re waiting for that little tug on the hem of your shirt that’s accompanied by Harris’s trusty puppy-dog face as he begs to watch TV for just five minutes, but that never happens. Curiosity gets the best of you and you shut off the water and flick your fingers over the sink.

Eddie and Harris are in your bedroom, both hunched over something, though you can’t see what it is.

“Looks good to me, Har,” Eddie muses, looking at his son. “What do you think?”

Harris crossed his arms as though delivering a professional opinion. “Looks good to me, too,” he confirms. “I think he’ll like it.”

“Who will like what?” you ask, drawing their attention from the mystery object.

Eddie smiles, reaching over and holding up a mobile. Teddy bears dangle from threads, and when he winds up the crank, it plays a soothing melody. “One of my guitar students bought this for the baby, and Harris helped me put it together,” he says. When Harris stares at him, he sighs. “Okay, Harris put it together while I supervised.”

“I figured that’s what happened,” you laugh, walking over and ruffling Harris’s hair. “Baby Brother is going to love it. Especially since you’re the one who built it.”

Eddie anchors the mobile to the crib where your newest son will sleep in just over a month. “Thoughts? Opinions? Criticisms?”

“Perfect.” You squeeze Harris’s hand in yours. 

He nods and flashes a gapped grin. “Yeah. Perfect.”

--

[tired-but-willing]

Tattoos

Pairing: Tonowari & Ronal / Reader

Word Count: 1,297

Warnings: Minor Way of Water spoilers, minor pain.

Summary: Every Metkayina receives a tattoo after an important life event, and tattoos hold a deep meaning. After defeating a beast to protect your people, the time has come for you to receive another.

Tattooing was a sacred practice to your people. A tattoo on one's chest represented safety and security. Tattoos on one's arms were the marks of a warrior; signifying strength. You were due for the latter. You sat in your home, head bent forward as cool hands swept across your back. Ronal was nothing if not thorough. You shuddered while her fingertips took their time tracing their way across your skin, the pads of them making a journey over your left shoulder blade and onto your arm itself.

"It should be here." Her hand grasped the top of your bicep. It wasn't far from your first tattoo; a circlet of dark waves around your muscle that you had received as a young hunter. "The mark of a warrior." Her hand lingered longer than it needed to, filling your heart with warmth. Though you weren't fragile in the slightest, she still handled you gently. It was endearing.

"I am not a warrior," you stated bluntly. "I hunt."

She squeezed your shoulder once firmly and let go, rising off of her knees to cross the floor of your shared home. You didn't turn; listening to her movements rather than watching them. You heard her shuffle around and knew she was gathering the necessary items to complete your ritual.

"You are a warrior." Her footsteps were becoming closer once again. The netting beneath the two of you dipped as she joined you once more. She knelt at your side and took your arm in her hands again. You turned your head to meet her gaze.

Passionate.

Ronal was passionate. It was one of the things you loved about her; and you would never deny that fact. Your love for her was something to be proud of.

"If that is what you say," you relented. Truthfully, trying to refute anything she said was a waste of time. She had a comeback ready for everything, iron clad points always in tow. Even now she smiled wryly. She leaned forward, rewarding your agreement with a gentle touch of her forehead on yours.

"It is." You felt her breath against your face when she spoke. You yearned for her to move closer. To break the gap between you. But at the same time, you reveled in the tenderness behavior a simple forehead touch. She pulled back, her head turned towards the entrance of your home. Your eyes followed hers. In the entryway was a form you recognized well. The completion of your heart. Tonowari's head was tilted every so slightly to the side with question.

"Is it ready?" He asked.

"Nearly." Ronal's fingers moved up and down on your arm, digging ever so slightly into one spot. It was her duty to find the perfect spot to mark your skin with ink. The place that Eywa would approve of; and the place that you would approve of. "Have you come to watch?"

"I have come to help." Amusement punctuated his words. He stride forward and knelt down in front of you, joining both you and Ronal where you sat. He reached out and took your other hand, cradling it in his palm. "Are you feeling well?"

You scoffed, playful. "Ma Tonowari, I have been tattooed before," you said. "I am not a baby."

"She is feeling fine." You yelped when Ronal delivered a swift pinch to your arm, gathering a small bit of skin between her thumb and forefinger. "No disrespect, ____. Be kind."

She reprimanded you like you were a child. You huffed. Your banter was light-hearted, as always. You would never say anything that would truly upset your mates, just as Ronal would never do anything that truly harmed you. Tonowari watched the both of you exchange words and a fondness overtook his expression. You looked up just in time to spot it. The way his eyes crinkled around the edges when he smiled. The warmth they held. You twisted your lips into an exaggerated pout.

"I am sorry," you said to him. "Forgive me."

"Enough of you," he said, setting his second hand atop yours, keeping it held gently between his. "It is time to begin. If you feel pain-"

"Do not be soft," Ronal interjected. "There will be pain." There was a pause in her words where her own softness leaked through. "It should not be extreme."

"It will not be." You flashed her a reassuring smile, displaying your fangs with the expression. "I am a warrior. Remember?"

"I should have known you would use that." She grabbed your arm a final time, her fingers forming a circlet on the limb. You dutifully fell silent and turned away. While you weren't a coward, you still didn't enjoy the feeling of watching the tattooing practice. Especially when the practice was going on you. Soon after you turned, pinpricks of pain scattered across your flesh. You grimaced.

"Breathe." Tonowari's hands clasped yours firmly while Ronal worked. You dutifully took a deep breath, air rattling through your lungs. The pain wasn't awful. You were slowly getting used to it. Ronal was quick and efficient. You could hear her murmuring to your left, small prayers to Eywa and recollections of your accomplishments. Despite the pain that came alongside the ritual, you couldn't help but revel in the way she held your arm. A tight but gentle grip. A firm, yet somehow lenient hold. Your thoughts could be full of her forever and somehow it still wouldn't be long enough.

And then of course, there was Tonorwari. Strong was easily the word that first came to mind when your thoughts were of him; though he was far more than that. He was kind. He was respectful. He murmured as well, but his words were not for Eywa. They were for you.

"Brave," he was saying. "You are brave."

"It is a tattoo," you replied.

He shook his head and slid one of his hands up your arm. Ronal held your left. He held your right.

"You earned it through bravery," he said. "And you are brave receiving it."

The mere sincerity of his words made your heart beat faster. It was as though the organ was trying to beat hard enough to make itself jump and escape out your throat. Your mates gentle smile turned knowing. Knowing, and teasing.

"Breathe."

You gnashed your teeth together in a mock-snarl, letting him see your fangs. He bared his teeth back once, indulging your playful antics. Then his gaze slid to Ronal's work. You suddenly became aware of the fact that the pain had stopped. He had distracted you, you realized. He drew your attention from the tattooing process, and now it was done.

"What is it?" You asked. You could see a swirling symbol of darkened blue and black on your skin, but it wouldn't be recognizable as any shape until it fully took to you.

Ronal sat back on her heels, admiring what she had done. Admiring you. Again, your heart kicked furiously. You imagined if it could speak that it would likely warn you it was about to explode.

"Water," she responded. Her finger traced a faint shape around the mark, mercifully not touching the raw skin itself. "Surrounding the beast."

"Sentimental."

She huffed and lifted herself up partially, pressing her lips to your hairline. "You are welcome," she said.

You closed your eyes contentedly. This was where you belonged; with your people, in your home on the sea.

With your mates in the place you shared, which was sacred to only the three of you. That was enough to keep you happy for as long as you lived. The memory of your joy would live on long after your death, forever kept alive in Eywa for anyone who wished to listen.

"Thank you," you responded.

[little-miss-dilf-lover]

request by @brokeaesthetic decided this was probs the best way to go about it 💓

collection of small blurbs for tangerine: reader with fear of spiders, reader pranking him, reader asking what ifs

collection of small blurbs for pietro: reader joking about his hoe phase

— TANGERINE.

wc. 196

People are often one to laugh over your irrational, almost silly fears. In most cases you’re brave - hard as rocks, but the moment you see one of eight-legged insects scatter across your way, you’re out of there. It doesn’t matter how big or small they are, a spider is a spider and you don’t wanna see it.  You’d find yourself calling for your boyfriend, calling in your knight to catch it for you. You hated them, but you’d never kill them. It’s not their fault they’re scary. You’d almost always be out of the room, lingering in the hallway as Tangerine finds and catches the spider in a glass. You would talk to him through the door, pestering with questions - asking if he caught it yet.  He knew never to show you, to only tip the cup out of the window or door - or if it were a spider too large, he’d be keen to take it to the furthest point in the garden, making sure it couldn’t get back in.  Though, he does like it when you need him. He likes to feel needed, even if it’s just to collect a harmless tiny little thing.

wc. 240

Annoying Tangerine was fun, it was easy. Almost anything could piss him off, and often, it was hard not to piss him off. Anything could make him tick, it was just the matter of what way you were going to do it.  In the past, you’d choose to add salt to his tea instead of sugar, or draw on him during the night - often opting for a black, felt-tip goatee or penned, handlebar attachments to his moustache. Sometimes, if you really wanted to annoy him, you’d share how the bikini wax you got earlier that day was from a male cosmetologist. And he’d fall for it every time. But the one that would tick him off most, is when you spoke to him like you were a guy, hitting on him in the crudest ways you could think of.  If he were minding his business, eating a banana while doing work bits on his laptop, you’d always, always say, “what that mouth do, ma?” It was simple, but it never failed to crack you up. Another favourite of yours is to fake bang him when his back is to you, rubbing up on him from behind while you whisper some whacky obscenities.  He’d push you off, calling you a, “fucking freak.” But you wouldn’t let him get the last word because before you let go, you’d call him your good girl, slapping his ass as if to emasculate him further.

wc. 210

Sometimes at night, you’d struggle to sleep - many thoughts swirling your mind. The deep, existential ones were common, but you were far more acquainted with the pestering, silly ones. Random little what if’s popping up. Tangerine would be beside you in bed, settled and almost asleep when you break the silence, asking questions as if there were no filter. Anything ranging from, “Would we still date if we didn’t meet when we did?” or “What if there was a house fire. What would you save first? Like what object or thing would you save?” Often opting to the extremes, like, “If you woke up one day and I wasn’t here, what would you do?” or, “What if I suddenly went deaf and blind, what would you do?” To him, these were silly, pointless questions that are a result of no sleep - but he could always tell they’d mean something to you. Even if it was a stupid thought. So he’d scooch closer to hug you under the covers, soothing over your skin as he sleepily whispers to you - telling you those things will never happen, and that he’d love you no matter what happened to you. Always being sure to punctuate it with the emphasis that you need to rest.

PIETRO.

wc. 430

It was no secret Pietro had been around. His staggering charm and good looks coming to play when it came to bedding women. In other words, he used to be a whore. A few days ago, you and Pietro were in the discussion of what you both used to be like before meeting one another. You chatted and shared stories of your past lives, and upon hearing one of his encounters, you learnt something new about yourself - realising how quick you are to feel envy and jealousy. He shared how he used to have multiple hook ups a day, describing how he’d meet one in the noon, and then a couple girls together at nighttime. It was like he was finding humour in it, laughing about how much of a slut he was. But you were struggling to find anything funny about his stories and it actually pissed you off more than anything. Possessive and territorial - even though you didn’t know him those years ago. So to retaliate, you told him your exaggerated body count, sharing lies of how every day in the month of September, you slept with a new person - telling him in detail the encounters of these strangers. It was all lies, but it helped with the strikes of jealousy you were feeling.  And so today, he pulled you aside, a quizzical look on his face as approached the topic running rampant in his mind.  “You uh–” he starts, a small chuckle escaping as if to release the nerves. “The other day…” he prompts, waiting for you to give him something. “Yeah,” you nod, also waiting for him to give you something - you had no idea what he meant. He rubs the back of his neck like he was stalling, as if he was having a hard time getting the words out. “When we were sharing stories. Was yours true?” You laugh, caught by surprise. You wildly shake your head ‘no’, unable to stop yourself from the amusement. “God, no,” you pause. “Dude, you pissed me off so I lied.” He chuckles, mirroring you. “I pissed you off?” “Yes. So bad,” you hum, emphasising with a stern nod. “Talking about all those girls– you really bothered me, man.” “Aw,” he playfully coos, the sound almost like he was mocking you. “You got jealous?” he teases, a sly smile slapped across his face. “Shut up,” you fight off a grin, pushing him away when he tries to kiss you. “Get away. You probably have chlamydia.” “Yeah, I caught it from you after you slept with all those people.”

[cera-writes]

"Ma chère, you are mine." 🃏part Four

"Never regret thy fall, O Icarus of the fearless flight, For the greatest tragedy of them all, Is never to feel the burning light" - Oscar Wilde

[: Please, Just Breathe - Written By Wolves]

The sterile scent of disinfectant did little to mask the tremor in Gambit's hands. He traced a finger along the cool metal railing of your bed, his reflection distorted in the chrome. Days had bled into nights, a monotonous vigil punctuated only by the rhythmic beeping of the machines keeping you tethered to this world. You were lying motionless on a bed back at the X-Mansion.

Literal weeks had passed since the massacre of Genosha. The X-men had brought your body back, wondering whether just to bury what was left of you or wait for some sort of miracle.

"Hey there, ma chere," he murmured, his voice a low rumble that vibrated through the cool sheets. "Been a rough couple of weeks, that's for sure. Feels like the world decided to take a nosedive after you were savin' our collective butts."

A wry smile tugged at his lips, but it never reached his eyes. The memory of your sacrifice, of the raw power you wielded, sent a shiver down his spine. You were still here, thank heavens, but how much of you remained?

"Was I ever good enough for you, Eclipse?" the question tumbled out, a ragged whisper. "Did I ever truly measure up to the expectations of the woman who could snuff out the damn sun?"

He knew it was a stupid question. He loved you, fierce and unconditional, but the doubt gnawed at him nonetheless. Had he been just another adventure in the grand tapestry of your extraordinary life?

Taking a deep breath, he launched into a slow recount. "Genosha, chere... man, it was bad. A slaughterhouse. Rogue's beside herself, grief eatin' her alive. Went tearin' after answers, found nothin' but dead ends."

The weight of his unspoken words hung heavy in the air. A tear escaped, tracing a glistening path down his temple, landing with a soft plop on the back of your hand. The silence in the room was deafening, only replaced by the sound of the monitor as it beat to the slow, faint rhythmic pulse of your heart.

"Oh, darlin'," he rasped, his voice thick as he wiped at his tears. "Professor says you're stuck between worlds, a flicker of a flame in a hurricane."

A muscle in his jaw clenched. The diagnosis, delivered by a surprisingly alive Charles Xavier, was a gut punch. You, the woman who could snuff out the damn sun, were a wisp, a fading ember.

"Said it would take someone reachin' in, pullin' you back from the brink," Gambit continued, his voice tight. He knew what that meant. Someone had to wade into the void, navigate the chaotic remnants of your near-death experience, and somehow coax you back to the land of the living.

A wry smile, tinged with desperation, tugged at the corner of his lips. "Looks like it's time to try an' bring you back, wouldn't you say, ma chere?"

He knew the risks. The void could be a treacherous landscape, a swirling vortex of emotions and memories. But the thought of facing life without you was a desolate wasteland he couldn't bear to contemplate.

A flicker of movement caught his eye. Professor X, ever-stoic despite the ordeal with the Shi'ar, sat by the window, his gaze fixed on the storm raging outside, mirroring the turmoil within.

"Professor," Gambit called out, his voice laced with a mixture of defiance and hope. "Any chance that fancy head of yours can cook up a way to get me there? Looks like I got a rescue mission on my hands."

Charles turned, his eyes holding a depth of understanding that only someone who had stared into the abyss himself could possess. A flicker of something akin to approval crossed his features.

"Gambit," he said, his voice raspy but firm, "you've always had a knack for the impossible. Perhaps this is just another challenge in your colorful repertoire."

"I think I'm done waitin' for any possibilty of her coming back from the dead, I gotta reach into her mind now, pull her back. No more waitin' around."

"You know the risks Gambit. And you're certain this is what you want to do?"

"Plus sûr que je ne l'ai jamais été," Remy nodded, placing his hand over your cold, unmoving one.

"Okay," Professor X nodded once, joining you at your bedside. "I'll have to link the two of you telepathically. It's a dangerous gamble but worth a fighting chance. There's also a chance you could be pulled into the darkness with her. But the bond between you should give you good luck in our efforts of bringing Eclipse back."

A surge of relief washed over Gambit, a lifeline thrown across the churning waters. He wouldn't be going in alone. With Xavier's help, he might just have a fighting chance of dragging you back from the brink.

"The odds always be in my favor, Professor." He smirked, a determined glint hardened his gaze.

He wouldn't let the darkness win. He wouldn't let you go. You'd been gone for far too long; longer than he'd had the patience of waiting for. He'd delve into the void, face whatever demons lurked within, and bring his sunshine back home.

Professor X cleared his mind, prompting Gambit to do the same. He pressed two fingers on each side of his temple and began the process of linking all three of your minds together in a psionic surge.

The world dissolved into a swirling vortex of colors, a chaotic kaleidoscope of emotions and memories. Gone was the sterile white room, replaced by a churning expanse of fragmented realities. Gambit plunged headfirst, the familiar tug of Professor Xavier's mental tether his only anchor in this tempestuous sea.

He fought against the relentless assault of disjointed images – flashes of the Genosha battle, the blinding brilliance of your eclipse power, the chilling emptiness of your still form. Each fragment ripped at him, threatening to pull him under in this maelstrom of your subconscious.

Then, he saw it. A lone figure, shrouded in shadow, standing on a precipice overlooking a vast emptiness. You. But this wasn't the Eclipse he knew. This figure seemed lost, a hollow shell consumed by an inky darkness that pulsed around her like a malevolent aura.

"Eclipse?" Gambit called out, his voice a threadbare whisper against the roaring storm.

The figure turned, her head a swirling mass of darkness where her face should have been. Tendrils of inky energy lashed out, coiling around his mental form, a chilling touch that sent shivers down his spine.

Fear gnawed at him, but the memory of your smile, the warmth of your hand in his, fueled his resolve. He wouldn't let the darkness win.

"Don't you give up on us, cher," he roared, channeling his Cajun charm into a psychic shout that echoed through the void. "We need you, the X-Men need you. Hell, the whole damn world needs you."

His words seemed to pierce the veil of darkness surrounding the figure. A flicker of recognition sparked in the empty void where her eyes should have been. A whisper, faint as a dying ember, reached his mind.

"Remy?"

Hope surged through him, a beacon in the storm. He pushed forward, his own memories forming a bridge across the void. He conjured moments of shared laughter, missions where the two of them had to work together to see it through, their own kind of connection that he didn't have with anyone else. Images flashed before the shadowed figure – the comfort after heartbreak, the playful banter during training sessions, the laying of her head on his shoulder the night before she died in his arms.

Slowly, the darkness began to recede. The inky tendrils loosened their grip, revealing fragments of your true self beneath. A tear, a single luminous droplet, trickled down the shadowy visage.

"I... I can't control it," your voice, weak and trembling, echoed in his mind. "The darkness... it's a part of me now."

"Maybe," Gambit conceded, his voice firm yet gentle. "But you're still Eclipse, chere. The woman who fights for what's right, the woman who lights up the darkest corners. You're stronger than you think."

He stretched out a mental hand, a beacon of warmth and love. The figure hesitated, then hesitantly reached back, her touch tinged with fear and uncertainty.

It wasn't enough. You were still adrift, tethered to the void by a threadbare connection.

"Professor?" Gambit called out, a desperate plea in his mind.

A wave of mental energy surged through the connection, bolstering the bridge they had built. It was a risky maneuver, Professor Xavier pushing his telepathic abilities to their very limit.

Together, they pulled. They coaxed. They pleaded with every fiber of their beings.

Slowly, ever so slowly, the figure began to respond. The darkness receded further, revealing glimpses of your true form. A single tear, shimmering with a familiar light, traced a path down your cheek.

Then, with a final desperate tug, they pulled you free. The world dissolved back into the sterile white room, the sterile scent of disinfectant stinging his nostrils.

You gasped, a rattling sound that filled the room with a melody sweeter than any song. Your eyes fluttered open, a spark of life rekindled within their depths.

"Remy?" your voice, weak but hopeful, echoed in the room.

A choked sob escaped his lips, relief washing over him like a tidal wave. He wasn't alone. You were back. And together, you would face the darkness, both within and without.

"You're back! She's back!" Remy couldn't stop grinning and shaking with tears, pulling you into a deep embrace as his arms held onto you so tightly that he was scared if he let go, you'd leave him again.

"Oh cher, don't you ever scare Gambit like dat again!" He shook with sobs as he nestled his face into your hair. You held him back, tears cascading down your cheeks.

"I-I thought I was dead," you choked, voice merely a whisper. "I did too, cher. We all did. Rogue went to out tryin' to get revenge for you." Remy stroked your hair, no sign of breaking your shared embrace.

You took in the scent of him, tobacco and sandalwood with a hint of spice you'd always found comfort in whenever he was around. That scent that you'd loved and missed so, so dearly.

"Remy..." you cried, just letting your emotions tumble out of you. You were alive, and he had brought you back. Your Remy.

"Shh, shh, it's gon' be okay chere. You're okay," he soothed. You sighed into his touch, his presence alone bringing you back to life with every comforting word and soothing touch.

Something else caught your attention for a split second as you glanced over. You'd notice that chair anywhere. It was Professor Xavier, who was still very much alive and well. A small smile graced your lips.

"Professor?" your voice raspy, barely a whisper.

Xavier offered a reassuring smile. "Yes, Eclipse. You're back." He turned to Gambit, a hint of amusement twinkling in his eyes. "I believe you two require some time to reacquaint yourselves. I'll inform the others."

With a nod, he exited the room, leaving you and Gambit alone in the sterile silence. Relief finally battled with exhaustion, your eyelids heavy as you tried to focus on the man before you as you pulled away to finally get a good look at him, that face you missed so dearly.

"What... what happened?" your voice trembled as you tried to piece together the fragmented memories swirling in your mind.

Taking a deep breath, Gambit launched into a slow, heartfelt recount. He spoke of Genosha, the devastating attack, and Rogue's consuming grief. He touched upon Emma's unexpected transformation and the lingering uncertainty surrounding Magneto's fate. But most importantly, he spoke of the chilling revelation – the existence of a new enemy, a shadowy figure known as Bastion.

As he spoke, a wave of exhaustion washed over you. You closed your eyes, the weight of the world settling on your weary shoulders.

Sensing your fatigue, Gambit stopped his narrative, gently squeezing your hand. "Don't you worry about the rest, chere. You take all the time you need to get your strength back. We'll handle things here."

A weak smile graced your lips. "Thank you, Remy," you whispered, your voice barely audible. "For everything."

He leaned closer, his eyes searching yours. "Don't even think about thank you's, chere. Just get yourself healthy. We've got a whole world of trouble waitin' for us, and it ain't gonna fight itself."

A tired chuckle escaped your lips. You knew he was right. The fight was far from over, but for now, all that mattered was the warmth of his hand in yours, the steady beat of his heart a counterpoint to your own. With him by your side, you could face anything, even the darkness that still lingered within.

"There'll be time to talk later," you rasped, your eyelids fluttering closed once more. "Just... stay with me, Remy. Please?"

He didn't hesitate. Pulling a chair closer to your bedside, he settled in, running his fingers through your soft hair. In the quiet of the sterile room, he kept vigil, a silent promise etched on his face. You were back, and he wouldn't let you slip away again. Together, you would face whatever darkness lurked in the shadows, both within and without.

══════════════════

The sterile white of the infirmary faded to the familiar blue and gold of the X-Mansion as you stumbled out, supported by Remy's steady arm. A day of rest had done wonders, but the echoes of the void still lingered in your mind, a faint tremor that unsettled you.

Remy squeezed your hand reassuringly. "Easy there, belle. You're still movin' a bit like a newborn giraffe."

You managed a weak smile. "Feels like it. I have questions, Remy. About Genosha... about Bastion."

He sighed, a flicker of pain crossing his eyes. "Plenty of time for dat later, chere. Professor wants you to ease back in slow."

But the urgency gnawed at you. You could feel it in the hushed whispers that followed you down the hallway, in the worried glances cast your way. The world had moved on while you were trapped in your own personal nightmare, and you were desperate to catch up.

Suddenly, a commotion erupted from the training room. The sound of crashing metal and shouts echoed through the halls. You exchanged a confused glance with Remy.

"Looks like someone's havin' a temper tantrum," he muttered, a hint of amusement in his voice.

Before you could respond, Ororo burst through the doorway, her face a mask of frustration.

"Remy, Eclipse," she said, her voice clipped. "Professor Xavier needs you in the war room. Now."

The urgency in her voice sent a jolt of adrenaline through you. You exchanged a wordless look with Remy before following Ororo, the tremor in your legs replaced by a growing sense of dread.

The war room buzzed with activity. Xavier sat at the center table, his brow furrowed in concentration. Scott and Jean stood beside him, their expressions grim. But it was the sight of Rogue in the corner, her aura crackling with barely contained rage, that sent a shiver down your spine.

"What's going on?" you asked, your voice cutting through the tension-filled silence.

"We've received a message," Xavier said, his voice strained. "From Bastion."

He gestured to the holographic screen at the center of the table. A distorted figure flickered to life, a silhouette shrouded in darkness.

"Mutants," the figure boomed, his voice filled with malice. "Your defiance has reached its end. You will all face your judgment."

The image flickered before dissolving into static. You felt a familiar coldness creep up your spine. Bastion's voice resonated within you, a dark echo stirring the remnants of fear from your recent ordeal.

"What's he planning?" you asked, the question hanging heavy in the air.

"He's making a statement," Scott said, his jaw clenched tight. "A threat. He wants us to live in fear."

Rogue let out a growl. "He wants a fight. And believe me, he's gonna get one."

The air crackled with barely contained energy. You could see in their eyes the same desperation you felt – the need to act, to strike back before Bastion could make his next move.

"We can't let him control us," Jean said, her voice steady but firm. "We need a plan."

Xavier nodded, his gaze flicking to you. You felt a spark of apprehension. Despite your weakened state, you knew you wouldn't be left out of the coming conflict.

"Eclipse," Xavier said, his voice filled with a question. "Are you well enough for this?"

You straightened your shoulders, a newfound determination fueling your resolve.

"More than well enough, Professor," you replied, your voice ringing clear and strong. "The X-Men fight together. And I'm not going to sit this one out."

A flicker of approval crossed Xavier's face. A sense of unity settled over the room, replacing the fear with a steely resolve. The battle against Bastion had begun, and the X-Men, battered but not broken, were ready to fight. You had stared into the void and come back. Now, it was time to face what lurked in the shadows.

When the meeting was seemingly dismissed, you lingered in the halls with Remy for a beat too long. There was still so much that lingered unspoken between the both of you. Neither of you had admitted actual feelings yet. You reached out for him, but he brushed you off, a coolness to the air. "Sorry chere, I'm just...still gettin' used to dis. It's crazy. You bein' back from the dead and all. Don't get me wrong, I'm more than happy you're back. It's just...I dunno chere, I guess I just need time to process it all," he sighed heavily flipping a Queen card between his fingers.

You understood all too well, your own feelings of displacement fresh. You'd been away for weeks but present at the same time.

"Right, no...I-I understand. I need time too," you replied, feeling an air of indifference between the two of you. You parted ways, even as your feet dragged the halls. It stung. You couldn't lie. But if time was what Remy needed, you'd give that to him with respect and space.

The sterile halls of the X-Mansion echoed with an emptiness that mirrored the hollowness you felt inside. The near-death experience had left you adrift, a ghost haunting the place you once called home. You craved a connection, a familiar voice amidst the strategizing and simmering tension.

Spotting Morph lounging by a window, a pang of relief nearly flooded through you. "Hey stranger, finally back from the dead to catch up on our horror movie sessions. Sorry it took me so damn long."

Morph smirked. "There's that dark sense of humour I missed. C'mere." They opened their arms and brought you into a bone crushing hug. "Careful there, or you'll break me in half." you smirked, hugging them back with equal comfort.

"I've missed your dumb face. Your real one. You know how many times I had to shapeshift into you just so I could get by without breaking down? Every time I did, only to see you staring back at me in the mirror, telling me you were okay and shit was gonna be alright?" They sighed, voice trembling and threatening to break with each word.

"Oh, Kevin..." you were trying so hard to fight back your own wave of emotions. "Don't ever pull that shit again Eclipse." They pulled away, serious this time.

You decided to take this conversation to the living room, a vast open area where the two of you used to laugh at stupid rom coms. You took a seat on the sofa, patting the seat next to you for Morph to join.

They settled in beside you, popping a can of soda in the process, soaking in the rare moment of calm. The weird sensation of having you back.

"Tell me about Genosha, Morph. Remy filled me in on the big stuff, but…"

Their face hardened. "It was bad, Eclipse. Real bad. I watched the events transpire on television and let's just say, no horror movie could pale in comparison to what I saw on the news. And Rogue… well, she was not herself."

They recounted the raw grief that had consumed Rogue, her powers surging out of control as she sought vengeance. He spoke of the fight with Synch, the desperation in her eyes.

"And Remy? How'd he cope with it all?" you finally asked, voice tinged with trepidation, the question lingering heavy in the air.

Morph hesitated, then sighed. "He was lost, Eclipse. He cared for you deeply. But after… well, after you were gone, Rogue was on a one-woman warpath. Gambit tried to reason with her, but…" they trailed off, leaving the unspoken words hanging in the air.

You felt a flicker of something akin to disappointment. Despite your connection with Remy, the knowledge that he might have sought solace in Rogue during your absence twisted a knot in your gut. You couldn't have blamed him though.

"There was more to it than that," a voice cut in, sharp and laced with a raw honesty that made you turn. Rogue stood there at the archway into the living room, arms crossed.

"Rogue," you said, your voice cautious. "I can't imagine what you've been through."

"Hey sugah...things ain't been easy since you went lights out on us."

She took a step closer, her voice dropping to a low murmur. "Don't pretend, Eclipse. You and I, we both know there was something between Remy and me after you… after you died."

A wave of unexpected honesty washed over you. You met her gaze, your voice equally as raw. "I always felt there was something lingering between the two of you. Remy made no mistake of hiding it... but Genosha, and that dance with Magneto... did you love Remy?"

The question hung in the air for a beat too long before Rogue finally answered. "Maybe. In a way. But it wasn't the same. He was… broken, Eclipse. After you were gone, a part of him just… shut down. The man i knew wasn't my Remy."

Her words struck a chord deep within you. You remembered the haunted look in Remy's eyes, the way his touch had seemed distant, a mere echo of the warmth you once shared.

"He tried to help me," Rogue continued, her voice heavy with regret. "But he was just going through the motions. It wasn't fair to either of us," she explained, making her way closer to you.

A strange sense of understanding bloomed between you. You saw the vulnerability in Rogue's eyes, the unspoken grief she'd been trying to mask. It wasn't about betrayal, you realized. It was about two people clinging to the wreckage of their emotions, seeking solace in a broken bond.

"We all lost someone, Rogue," you said, reaching out to place a hand on her shoulder. "But we can't let that break us. We have to fight. To live to see another day. And for Remy too. Maybe, just maybe, by fighting together, we can help him find his way back to himself."

Rogue flinched but didn't pull away. A flicker of something akin to hope flickered in her eyes, a silent pact forged in shared grief and a newfound understanding. She was still your best friend and nothing would ever change that.

[ken-dom]

Sex On The Beach

Ken x reader

Summary: Ken's new to a lot of things in the real world. You know, like sex. And cocktails.

Author's notes: This is set at no specific time but Ken has a penis, and I just wanted to give him a little boost. A sexy one.

Warnings/content: nsfw - smut, reader has a vagina, mention of hand jobs, cum play, cream pie, praise, first time, glittery Ken cum! ✨

'How does it feel, baby?'

Ken is brought back to you at the sound of your voice, his lungs abruptly filling with breath and his eyes rolling back into place.

'Warm... r-really warm and s-soft... ohhh-'

'Yeah? You like it?' you smile down at him.

He nods eagerly, biting his lip and whining because he can’t think clearly enough to speak anymore.

You roll your hips slowly, keeping a careful and steady pace. He’s so deliciously responsive and so blissed out already that you’re afraid to go too fast and overwhelm him; as amazing as he feels, stretching and filling you with his perfect, pretty, plastic cock, you're able to keep your composure for now where he lost his the moment you sank down onto him.

'Good boy, Ken... you're doing so good for me,' you praise him.

He whimpers and bites his lip, and your heart skips a beat. It's almost endearing, the way he responds to your words.

You caress his cheek with your palm, needing to feel closer, to show him the affection he’s so desperate for, and he presses his face into the warmth of your touch.

Needy little thing aren't you? you think, watching him writhe and blush prettily beneath you. Gorgeous.

You finally begin to speed up, chasing your own pleasure and equally wanting to test the water, see how he reacts.

And boy do you get a reaction.

Loud moans and gasps punctuate each breath he takes while his fingertips grip desperately at the sheets, almost pulling them clean off the bed beneath him.

His jaw drops, his eyes screw shut, and fuck, he looks as though he's cumming already.

'You can touch me,' you pant, caressing his cheek. 'You can ask for what you want-'

'P-please- feels so good- d-don't stop!' he cries, finally grabbing your hips instead of the sheets, sighing shakily as he kneads your flesh.

You hope he’ll leave bruises, but you don't tell him that for now. He might not understand yet, and you don't want him to worry about it.

'Don't worry, baby, I won't stop. You're safe with me, just focus on how it feels...'

He looks so fucking irresistible, perfect hair now mussed and cheeks flushed pink.

You lean forward to swallow him into a deep kiss, and the new angle, with the way he’s bucking his hips up into you, sends a jolt of pleasure sparking through every nerve in your body.

You moan his name then, and to him it sounds like he's the only thing you'll ever need.

It ends him.

His back arches off the bed and he practically screams out, strangled and excited and overwhelmed - and comically high pitched as he pants and whines down from his high, trembling beneath you.

His fingertips drive so hard into your hips that you groan at the sweet pleasure-pain, your walls contracting around him to squeezing out every last drop of that glittery, pink cum you love so much. You must have given him at least ten handjobs this past week alone just to witness the beauty of it spilling in shimmering, ample amounts from his slit again and again.

As your climaxes subside and you're left face to face, breath hot on each other's faces, Ken gazes up at you as though you're the most important thing in the world to him.

'WOW,' he bursts, breathless and wide-eyed, 'that felt... different.' He turns pensive, brows knitting.

'Good different?'

'Really good different,' he beams.

Carefully, you shift to lay beside him, easing off his cock slowly. Even with your consideration, he feels cold and somehow empty now that he's no longer inside you.

He immediately rolls onto his side to gaze at you. With anyone else this would be uncomfortably intense, but with Ken it feels right somehow.

'Was I... did I...' he hesitates, unsure. 'Did I make you feel good too?'

'Yes, Ken. You made me cum so hard,' you smile, turning to face him properly, pecking his lips.

He lets out a little giggle. 'And my glitter... my cum... it's inside you now?'

You laugh softly. 'Yes, inside me. Just how I wanted it to be.'

He nods, understanding yet slightly bemused, a smug expression crossing his handsome face.

'Ken... do you want to do it again?' you offer, dragging a finger teasingly down his side.

His eyes light up. 'Really?'

'Yes, really. I seriously need another dose of your Kenergy.'

He closes his eyes to calm himself, bringing a fist up to his lips and uttering a quiet but excited, 'Sublime!' under his breath. He flips over onto his back to assume your previous arrangement, but you pull him back to you, slipping your hands up into his soft hair, burying your face in the crook of his neck, making him mewl.

'There are different positions we could try...' you whisper, guiding him on top of you and wrapping your legs around his waist.

He lets out a delighted little, 'Ooh!' at how closely you're entangled, revelling in your embrace.

'You were so good and...I trust you, Ken. I need you.'

Ken's lip quivers as he holds back a sob. He was already hard again, eager as ever, but now you've told him he did a good job at making you feel good? That you need more of what he can do?

A bead of glittery slick drips, glinting, from his cock and he groans at the sensation of fleeting relief before forcing himself back to the present with you, hungry for your attention.

'M-maybe I should change my job,' he mumbles, clearly proud of whatever he's thought up.

'Yeah, what too, Ken?' you smile up at him.

'Sex and Beach,' he drawls, a mildly cocky glint in his eye. 'Y'know, instead of just Beach.'

'How about sex on the beach?' you joke, but he doesn't quite get it.

'Y-you can do that? Oh-'

Another thick pearl of sparkling pre-cum leaks down his throbbing shaft at the thought and his head drops as he tries hard to compose himself long enough to last for you.

'I'll take you for one. Sex first though. Then sex on the beach.'

He nods, serious and dutiful as he slowly slides back inside you, trying not to think too hard about why you referred to having sex in his favourite place as 'taking him for one.'

It doesn't matter anyway. Sex and Beach with you. That's all that matters right now.

[jd07201990]

So… Does anyone know how many bouquets of roses, or how many boxes of chocolates it’ll take to survive my new Wife’s wrath, when she see’s her adorable, creative, intelligent boy… after I accidentally shipped him off to the equivalent of Football Boot-camp, so we could have our honeymoon alone in Cancun. Honestly! We were all going over the options, the two last resorts being we don’t go on our honeymoon, or Jason would have to stay at his grandpa’s house in the middle of nowhere a few states away. Clearly, we were desperate, so when I found the pamphlets for what looked like a regular old summer camp out in the woods, with a lake, and a whole slew of other activities, I jumped on it, especially since the price for the entire summer was $2100 bucks! Where I really screwed up, was not reading the pamphlet I was filling out, which was absolutely not the super happy fun time in the woods experience… It was ROTC for Football Jocks. I learned this only when I drove out to pick him up, 3 months later, and well… you can see what trudged up to me from across the parking lot, huge battered old sneakers pounding the pavement as he absentmindedly gnawed on a protein bar in his meaty, calloused fist, while his other hand absentmindedly adjusted his shorts. Just like all the other bulked up brutes marching off to their dads and coaches, his chest was bare, and bouncing with every step. When he’d crossed the distance, he grinned this dim, dopey grin, and grunted, “Thanks for pickin’ me up Dude. Can we stop by Wendy’s? I’m fuckin’ starving!” He punctuated this by stuffing the last of the protein bar in his mouth and yanking the door to my car open, the fiberglass handle cracked in his hand. He looked at the two halves, chuckled with that deep, rumbling Jock tone, and got in, dumping the pieces on the seat next to him. It didn’t take long for the car to fill the distinct funk of athletic prowess, especially when he kicked off his size 14’s and put his feet up on the dash. I nearly gagged, and despite the heat outside, rolled down the windows to air out. As we pulled into the driveway, my wife was on the lawn, waiting with a little bag, excited to see her boy again. When the sweaty ape of a jock got out lumbered up to her, wrapping his beefy arms around her, she looked terrified… for a second… then her eyes narrowed on me. When Jason finally let go of her, he gave her that same, blank, dopey grin, all the intelligence gone from his big wide eyes, and held his fist out… she looked at it incredulously, and he chuckled, “You’re supposed to bump it, Ma… with your fist” Well, the last 6 months have been tough, but Jason, or, “Jay” as he reminds us often, has absolutely blossomed at school. Although his grades could be better. The shock of his summer “glo-up” or as his oafish, grunting new friends like to tease, “blow-up” hit a few of the teachers harder than others. Although the Coach of the football team had nearly offered me his ’69 Camero to have Jason on the team after seeing him plow through reps in the football team’s gym.  I said it was tough, because our house is essentially a second Locker Room for Jay and his small army of sweating, smelly behemoths. There is a never-ending pile of laundry from countless practices, the gym, and just hanging out with his friends. My wife has somewhat gotten used to her little boy calling her, “Bro” accidentally… every other day… and despite the change, he’s still her boy, there’s just, a good bit more of him to love. I will say, he’s a great kid, kind of dumb, a bit crass, and stinks like a gym bag more often than not, but when you dig a bit deeper into those dim, wide eyes, there’s still that adorable boy, underneath a pile of muscle.