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killerlookz · 7 months ago

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Just Friends pt. II | Joost Klein

part two to Just Friends

description: Joost Klein x f! reader- following Joost's confession, him and reader decide to explore their newfound feelings in the comfort of his hotel bed.

content: 18+ NSFW, MDNI... thigh riding, dry humping (truly a lost art), unprotected P in V, creampie (we need a better word for this im sorry) much fluff throughout! this fic contains rpf and has been tagged as such, do not continue if that makes you uncomfortable, and please block the rpf tag

word count: 3.1k

"Not if you don't want us to be."

"What?" The simple, short, singular word leaves your lips much harsher than you had anticipated. Your body is suddenly rigid despite Joost's prior attempts to get you to relax.

"I wouldn't mind..." Joost trails off, his hand lightly gliding over your upper arm.

It doesn't take much to squirm out of Joost's gentle grasp, flipping over so you're now facing him. You notice the proximity between the two of you, if either of you were to move forward slightly your lips would surely collide.

Joost's lips flatten into a tight, sheepish smile. You're unsure of what to say, afraid that anything that comes out of your mouth will sound all too desperate.

"Being more than friends?" Your voice is just above a whisper, trembling as you search for confirmation that Joost had really been asking you what you thought he did.

He nods, his eyes afire with an emotion you hadn't recognized in him before. You bite your lip at his confirmation- it had all seemed so apparent now, and had you really ever been just friends?

"I don't think I'd mind either," Your smile is soft, the muscles of your mouth just barely stretching to curl themselves upwards. You hadn't been sure if at that moment you had just accepted anything, if he was truly asking you out, if your words right then and there made you his girlfriend. But with the way your stomach tightens, and your whole body vibrates with an energy you have yet to experience before you are certain something has changed between the two of you.

Joost's hand gently brushes against your face, cupping your cheek with his palm. Your blood runs hot, and your body feels like it is on fire as Joost's thumb brushes against your lips, forcing them into a pout.

Suddenly his lips replace his thumb, just about swallowing you in a hungry kiss. A slight whimper escapes your mouth at the contact just before you engage him back.

Any gap between the two of you is immediately closed, now chest to chest as your lips slot together perfectly. But it wasn't enough, with each kiss you're left wanting more and more, and despite your physical proximity you still feel so far from him.

You snake one of your legs around him, his knee slipping between your thighs, allowing you to at least become marginally closer, your hips now pressing against his.

The kiss is slow and dizzying, your brain feeling like it was turning to nothing but mush as Joost's lips continued to work against yours. But you need something more.

You hardly recognize your own movements as your hips sputter forward, it seems almost involuntary as you search for whatever that "more" you needed was. A delightful friction arises as your crotch brushes against Joost's thigh. You had found it, that feeling you had been missing. You rock your hips back and forth, slowly, as to wait for a confirmation that what you had been doing was okay.

Joost raised his leg a little higher, to a position that was perfectly slotted between your upper thighs, one where you wouldn't have to strain so much to rub against him. You took that as the confirmation you needed to quicken your pace, rolling your hips to feel the delicious friction of his thigh against your clit, the thin fabric of your pajama shorts and lacy panties did little to stifle the feeling. Still- you're eager to feel more of him.

Soft gasps leave your mouth between kisses, making it all the more apparent how you had been using Joost to get yourself off. Never had you felt more desperate for someone than you did at this moment, your actions only further solidified that feeling you'd had all this week, Joost had made you feel like you were a teenager falling in love again. And now, something about this had made you feel like you were a virgin again, inexperienced and fiending to be touched.

Joost pulls back from you, causing your eyes to flutter open. His pink, swollen lips curl into a smirk, clearly enjoying whatever sensation it was he was causing you.

His hand had not left your face, and he had now been gently caressing your cheek, rubbing soft circles with his palm.

"Do you want to um-," He stops, and for a moment you swear he's flustered himself, he blinks a few times before starting over, "Do you want to take your shorts off?"

You nod quick and wordlessly, you remove your leg from where it had been wrapped around Joost's, eager to pull at the tight fabric of your shorts.

As you're kicking off your shorts, Joost turns to lie on his back, and he urges you to get on top of him as soon as your bottoms are thrown about somewhere else in the room.

With some hesitance you climb on top of Joost, sitting on his thighs as you straddle him. He places both of his hands on your hips,

"You can come closer," He beckons, his voice soft and sweet.

You lean over into a position that isn't necessarily comfortable, your chest on top of his as you rest your head on his shoulder. Joost's arms tighten around your waist, keeping you close to him.

You can hear your own heartbeat in your ears as the room is still for a moment, neither of you daring to move or say a word.

"Can you move up a little?" Joost asks with hesitance in his voice, but you don't question it, instead, you quickly oblige with his request.

As you push your hips forward to shift upward you can suddenly feel him. A tightness forms in your stomach as you notice how he strains against the fabric of his boxers. What he had actually been asking you to do had made itself clear, and you lift your hips to position yourself on top of his hardened cock.

A small whimper escapes you as your hips lower, your cunt covered in nothing but flimsy panties, slick with your own arousal, brushing against his hardness. You wondered if he could possibly feel how wet you were, certain you'd leave a wet spot on his underwear.

"Feel how much I want you?" He asks, his voice low and sultry.

"Mhmfuck," You whisper, rutting your hips in an effort to feel more of him. The friction was intoxicating, your layers of clothes just minimal enough for you to feel what you wanted.

Your eyes are shut tight, your fingers digging into Joost's bare shoulders as soft moans leave your mouth. With his arms still wrapped around your waist, Joost gently guided your hips up and down at a pace that felt good for both of you.

"Just like that," He breathes out.

You don't know how to tell him you want even more, fearing you had already been treading some sort of line now. However, you're not sure how much longer you can hold on if you don't change what you're doing now.

Your fingers dig deeper into Joost's shoulders, your hips reaching a staccato as you grind against the length of his dick.

"Joost," his name falls from your lips in a strained whisper, like you're begging for him.

"You okay, liefje?" You had become accustomed to Joost's simple pet names, aware that his short musings towards you in Dutch were a show of affection, though you didn't always know exactly what he was saying.

You were more than okay.

"Need you," You whimper out, somewhat pathetically as the movement of your hips loses any sort of pace.

He's suddenly holding you a lot tighter, forcing your movements to slow until you can't move anymore. A pained whine leaves your mouth at the loss of sensation, your poor cunt throbbing just above his cock.

"Roll over," Joost prompts, his voice is not exactly commanding, but you're eager to do what he asks of you as soon as his words meet your ears, slipping off of him, letting your back hit the firm mattress below you.

And suddenly, he's the one on top now, gazing down at you as his arms prop himself on either side of your head. You stare back up at him, gazing on what you considered to be utter perfection. You're in awe of the way the dim, warm light of the hotel room is able to capture his features, the way his glossy lips part so perfectly, how his piercing blue eyes twinkle with adoration, how his white-blond hair forms a soft halo around his head. You could get used to this view.

"Are you sure-"

"Yes," You cut him off, not having to hear the rest of his sentence, just yes.

"You don't even know what I was asking." He chuckles.

You swallow down hard, preparing for what you're about to say next,

"I want you to fuck me." You stare deeply into his eyes, using all your courage to keep focused on him, to not curl up and cower in shame.

A smile ghosts over Joost's face before his tongue darts from his mouth, wetting his lips,

"Will you settle for me making love to you?"

Your body grows warm, butterflies pulsing in your lower stomach- god he was so corny, and he wore a face like he knew it too.

You nod, feeling your own words had been too crass for the situation anyway- you wouldn't mind taking things slow, making them more romantic.

Joost sits up, resting on his knees between your legs. The pads of his fingers swipe over the waistband of your panties, the slight touch tickling you, making you release a stifled breath of air from your nose.

He leans forward, pressing a gentle kiss to your lower stomach, and another right above the elastic of your underwear. You feel your core start to ache as his kisses trail lower, a kiss to your pubic bone before finally placing a kiss to your clit through the fabric of your panties. The contact has you wanting to squeeze your thighs together, but with Joost between them now that would prove to be a difficult challenge.

It isn't long before his fingers are hooked into the waistband of your panties, slowly pulling them down your legs. You suck in a sharp gasp as the cold air that surrounds you hits your soaked cunt, a sudden reminder of how exposed you were.

Your panties are tossed somewhere in the room much like your pajama shorts had been some time ago, and Joost returns to you, fingers pulling at the hem of the T-shirt you wore, begging to pull it over your head.

You don't cause much fuss, raising your arms above your head so Joost can continue to undress you. You can't help but feel a little stunned now, absolutely bearing it all to Joost as your shirt lands on the floor.

The world seems to stop for a minute as Joost stares down at you, drinking in every inch of your naked body. He shakes his head, almost in disbelief at you in front of him,

"So beautiful," He muses, leaning forward to press a gentle kiss against your cheek, "And all for me." He continues.

The small claim of possession has you feeling dizzy as anticipation eats at you. You smile up at Joost, batting your eyelashes, inviting him to take the moment to where you both know you had wanted it to go.

He's able to take your small hint, leaning back so he can pull down his underwear, sliding the elastic waistband down to his thighs, allowing for his stiff cock to spring from the fabric.

As you bite at your lip it's hard not to be impressed with what you're working with. Instinctively, you bend your knees, spreading your legs as you do so, allowing Joost the access to you that he needs.

He props himself up with one arm next to your head, the both of you staring down intently at where he's lining himself up with your entrance. Joost's eyes flick to yours briefly,

"Are you sure?" He asks once more

"Yes, please." You breathe out, arching your back, just begging for some contact between the two of you. The way you ache for him seems indescribable with words like it's some sort of primal instinct that you just have.

Holding the base of his cock firmly in his hand, Joost guides the tip to your entrance, teasing at first, before finally lining himself up to thrust into you. He looks down at you intently as he drives his hips forward, your pussy immediately stretching to compensate for him now being inside of you.

Your eyes screw tight at the initial stretch, needing a moment to adjust to his size, but Joost moves slowly, waiting until you seem ready to push in any further.

However, you adjust quickly, and your arousal makes it easy for Joost to slide into you, bottoming out with a loud grunt. He stays still for a moment, the two of you locked in a passionate stare. Just as slowly as he entered you, he pulls out until only the head is inside, before pushing in once more, this time at a slightly faster pace.

In only a few strokes you can already swear this is the best sex you've ever had.

You're a mess as your pussy stretches around Joost's cock, the mix of your arousal and Joost's movements filling the room with a lewd, wet sound, tangled with the strangled moans that emerge from each of your throats. You engage him in a slow, passionate kiss as he leans forward, continuing to thrust into you as his lips engulf yours, fucking you so perfectly that you nearly want to tell him you love him.

You almost can't believe the way he's making you feel, if it wasn't for the fact that his lips were planted firmly against yours- you would surely be screaming out his name with each gentle thrust forward.

He pulls away briefly from the kiss to mumble to you,

"S'like you were made for me." His voice is strained, clear he was in a state of bliss similar to yours. And you couldn't help but echo his sentiment, the way he fucked into you seemed all too perfect.

Unable to keep his head up much longer Joost pulls back from the kiss, his head dipping down to hang next to yours, his hair gently tickling your shoulder.

His long, drawn-out moans are no longer stifled by your kisses, and his low noises are like music to your ears. Especially as they combine with your soft whimpers, making it clear just how good you had been making each other feel.

Sensing the tightness that had been building inside of you beginning to reach a breaking point, your pussy clenches, causing Joost to react with a sharp, pointed, "Fuck," Jumping from his lips.

The noises he makes only act as further fuel to propel you towards your eventual orgasm.

You wrap both your arms around Joost, pulling him towards you as much as you possibly can, eager for even more contact. Your fingernails dig into his back, scratching down his soft flesh as Joost's cock repeatedly hits that perfect spot inside of you.

With a cried-out moan, you're tipping your head, and your back arches, knowing you're not going to be able to take much more of this as you begin to tremble, your hips bucking wildly to attempt to meet Joost's movements.

"Joost," You whine, "I'm so close-fuck-so close." You barely stutter the words out as your pleasure begins to take complete control of your body.

"Come on," He urges, "That's okay, cum all over me."

And with that, you can feel yourself letting go, everything all of a sudden becoming overwhelming as you bite Joost's name into your tongue. Your legs fight to close around Joost's hips as your hips spasm, your pussy pulsing around the length of Joost's cock as your orgasm finally hits you.

You could nearly cry at what you're feeling, your entire body trembling as the most intense wave of pleasure rolls over you. You cannot help the moans that leap from your throat as your release coats Joost's cock.

Joost's movements become sloppy as he gets closer to finishing himself, the added wetness only allowing him to fuck into you at a wilder pace.

Your head flops to the side, legs still trembling as your pleasure turns to overstimulation. You bite your lip to keep yourself from crying out at the sensation, although it all feels like way too much.

"Please," Joost begs, "Just a few more seconds."

You can't do much but nod as his hips begin to slam into you.

You yelp as his hips meet yours for one final time, and with some mumbled curses Joost spills into you, followed by a long string of praises in a mix of Dutch and English making it hard to understand exactly what he had said.

With an exhale Joost collapses onto you, the two of you struggling to catch your breaths. You can't think of much to say, no word seemed appropriate for how you had been feeling, no praise high enough had been invented yet to share the full depth of what you were experiencing.

All you can do is revel in the sweet afterglow, overwhelmed by these newfound feelings.

Finally, after catching his breath to the best of his ability, Joost slowly pulls out of you, the lingering contact making you whine as your eyes screw shut.

You can feel his warm release spilling onto your things as Joost flops down on his back. With a sharp inhale he begins to speak,

"Let me get something to clean you up."

୨୧┈┈┈┈୨୧┈┈┈┈୨୧

Laying comfortably under the thick linnens of Joost's hotel bed, you sigh with contentment, resting your head against his chest. Your eyelids rest heavily over your eyes, tired from your prior activities, and even more exhausted from the week as a whole.

You're confident tonight you're going to have the greatest sleep of your life as Joost pulls you into a tight hug. The stress of the competition and the invasive press had all seemed to melt away as you listened to the soft thud of Joost's heart beating right under where your head lay against his chest.

A soft kiss ghosts over the crown of your head, as a half-asleep Joost mumbles something in Dutch, what you can maybe make out as goodnight, and not much past that.

You sigh once more, nuzzling your cheek to Joost's chest, yearning for as much contact with him as you could get before mumbling out yourself

"Goodnight, Joost."

#joost klein #joost klein x reader #joost klein x f! reader #joost klein smut #joost klein rpf

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barleyo · 1 year ago

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Love Machine.

Android! Leon Kennedy X Fem! Reader (smut)

A/N: I got this idea while listening to a song with the same title. This was my first time writing for Leon, I hope it isn't too clunky or too short! I am slowly coming out of my hiatus, so my writing skills are a bit rusty, I need you all to give me a little grace for the next few posts in case they aren't great LOL. Love you all so much, thanks for your support!

Part Two: Here

Wordcount: 2.4K

Tags: sex doll/living sex robot (?), sex toys, oral (fem receiving), reader is called things like "pretty girl", p in v, creampie (but not really because he's a sex doll??), unprotected sex, fingering, nipple play

“Welcome in, can I help you find anything?”

(Y/N) gave the cashier a polite smile and shook her head as she walked past him at the check-out desk, trying to be as non-awkward as possible, especially since she was the only customer in the small store at that time of night. It was an in and out trip, she tried to convince herself of that. She needed something small, just enough to get the job done.

Normally, she would’ve waited until the next day to run an errand like this, but days of stress had left her needy and frustrated, so when her trusty wand finally gave out on her mid-fun, she grabbed her car keys and headed out into the night.

Her eyes scanned the wall of toys in the back of the store. Pink and purple covered the shelves, vibrating toys and dildos being her main focus.

“Mini-vibe, bullet vibe,” she mumbled, squatting down to read the boxes on the lower shelves. “What’s even the difference–?”

She settled on a purple rabbit vibrator. Its packaging was the least indicative of its contents, and it was on the smaller side. Easy to hide.

“Will that be all?” the cashier asked, looking over the box.

“Yeah, that should be it.”

“You know,” he said, giving her a wide grin, “I can’t say I can suggest this one.” He held the box back out to her, waiting for her to take it. “We’ve gotten a lot of refunded purchases due to it.”

“Oh, shit, really?” (Y/N) took the box back, tucking it under her arm. “Okay, uh, I guess I should ask what the best option would be, then?”

The cashier gave a nod and waved her over, lifting the divider between behind the counter and the rest of the store. “Come with me to the back, we’ve got all the good stuff tucked away back there.”

She chewed the inside of her cheek, thinking about whether or not to follow him. She didn’t immediately catch any red flags in his behavior: he was polite enough, no major creep-vibes. (Y/N) finally walked past the open divider and followed him into the stock room.

“So, over here,” he said, waving his hand over a heavily stocked shelf, “is all the high-powered stuff. These over here have a high-customization level, lingerie over here, and over here ....”

The man continued to go over the ‘hidden’ options in the store, but (Y/N)’s eyes traveled over to a large, sheet-covered box.

“Hey, what’s that over there?” she asked, pointing at the box.

“Oh, that? That’s new, uhm, probably a little out of your comfort zone, though, he’s a little advanced.”

“He?”

The cashier sighed and stepped up to the box, gripping the corner of the sheet. “It’s—it’s a long story, but, here, have a look.”

He pulled the sheet down, dropping it to the cement floors of the room.

“What the fuck is that?!”

A blond man stood in the plain box, the only adornment on the cardboard being his name in bolded letters: Leon. His eyes were closed, his hands sat idly beside his sides, and his body stood bare before them both.

“His name is Leon, he’s a prototype for a new line of responsive sex dolls. I mean, most of the bugs are out of the system, he’s not faulty or anything.”

(Y/N) walked up to the box and scratched the cellophane covering, trying to get his attention. “Is he awake? Or on, I guess?”

“Nah, he has to be set up, there’s a manual in the box, I think,” the man replied, bending down to pick the sheet back up to throw over Leon’s box. Just as he began to shake the sheet off, clearing the residual dirt off of it, (Y/N) spoke again.

“How much for him?”

She mentally smacked herself for asking. There was no doubt he was expensive, hell, he probably wasn’t even up for sale.

“You want him?” He raised his eyebrow, looking the girl up and down, confusion painting his features.

“I– I don’t know, can I have him? How much?”

He crossed his arms for a moment, thinking. “He’s not for sale, per se, but– so, listen, okay?”

“Yeah?”

“You can have him for free, okay? But if you aren’t satisfied with him, you can’t bring him back here, you’re stuck with ‘em.” He held his hand out expectantly. “Deal?”

“Deal,” she said, taking his hand quickly, giving it a few affirming shakes.

The boxcutter in her hand worked quickly, slicing open the cellophane. (Y/N) bunched up the plastic and threw it to a random corner in her bedroom, turning back to face Leon. She gave him a testing poke, and when he didn’t respond she turned that poke into a gentle tapping on the side of his face.

“Leon?” The name felt like acid on her tongue, guilt already creeping through her. “Wake up.”

She dropped her hand from his face and guided it further down his chest. The synthetic skin felt real, almost in an uncanny way. He was warm to the touch, not plastic-y and cold like how she assumed other sex dolls felt.

“Come on, big boy.” she muttered, pulling Leon’s large, heavy body out of the box and placing him on his feet near her bed. “Where’s your–? Oh, got it.” (Y/N) snatched the instruction manual from the box. The print was foggy, and some words were horribly misspelled, but she flipped through the pages and located the directions page. She read the page to herself quietly. “I am Leon, your AI-powered male sex doll. The setup process of a Leon doll is extremely easy. To turn me on, just set my dial. After that, just sit back and let me love you for a little while!”

(Y/N) walked a small circle around him in search of his ‘on-switch.’ She found it right on the back of his neck, almost hidden by his swoop of blond hair. On the silver dial sat three options: Off, gentle, and rough. A hand rose and ticked the dial to gentle. She stepped away from him quickly after hitting the switch, nervous to see what would happen.

His eyes opened slowly, and a weak blue light beamed from them, scanning outwards before shutting off completely. A grin slowly spread across Leon’s all-too-real features as he powered on.

“Hey there, pretty girl,” he said, standing still in her room, only moving his head to face her. “Looks like you could use some company.”

“Uh, hello.” Her mouth was dry as she spoke, feeling like she made a bad decision the second he had snapped to life.

“Hm, why don’t you come closer to me? I don’t bite,” Leon paused before cheekily adding “unless you want me to.” He took her in his arms and let his eyes drift down her body. He eased her shirt over her head and tried to undo the clasps of her bra.

“What are you doing?” She tried to pull away but he held her in place.

“You have all your clothes, but I’m exposed over here. That’s not so fair, is it?” He looked down at his hardened length, ushering her to look down with him.

Her eyes widened a bit. “When did you even get hard–?”

“I’m always hard around pretty girls like you.” He slipped off her bra and groped her breasts with his large, somewhat calloused hands. “Look at these, baby. You have pretty tits, and a pretty face, huh?”

A hum left her throat as she felt his head dip down and take one of her swollen nipples into his mouth. He swirled his tongue over the bud, latching on to properly suck it after a few teasing moments. She ran her hands through his hair and gripped onto it tightly, whining at the feeling of his mouth popping off of her tit.

“Bet you’re getting wet from this, aren’t you?” His voice was airy and muffled while he spoke. He left open mouthed licks over her pebbled nipples, grazing over them with his tongue’s warmth.

She gave a weak nod in return.

“Mm, maybe I should take care of that,” he chuckled lightly and lowered himself to his knees. “Gonna let me take these off you?” He tugged at the waistband of her shorts.

“G’head,” (Y/N) said, feeling her thighs rub against each other impatiently.

He pulled them down to her ankles and she stepped out of them, leaving her in just her panties. She shuddered at the feeling of his tongue darting across the cotton covering her wet center. Again, Leon laughed a bit at her reaction and licked a heavier stripe against the fabric. When he was rewarded with a gasp from her open mouth, he pulled the panties to the side and pressed his tongue at her slit.

“F–Fuck, that feels good,” she whined, hand still messily buried in his hair.

Leon kept his eyes on her the whole time, not letting a moment pass where his blue irises weren’t piercing hers.

His tongue dipped out of her entrance and moved up to her clit. He fidgeted with it, trying to see which motion worked best on her, and settled on a circular movement. The longer he sat slotted between her thighs, her knees thrown over his shoulders, the more frequently he felt her cunt jump from pleasure. He placed his tongue hard on her clit, giving it rough, pressured licks.

“Almost there, I’m close,” (Y/N) said, feeling a coil form in her stomach. She had felt this with other toys, but by far, Leon was the best at the job. “Don’t stop,” she hummed, voice catching in her throat while he moved his head side to side, dragging his mouth sloppily over her cunt.

A string of profanities escaped her mouth when she felt her orgasm hit. A sputtering wave of warmth flushed through her body, her pussy clenching around nothing.

“That’s it, good job,” Leon cooed. He held his hand up to her face expectantly. “Spit.”

Her mind already felt melted, like it could’ve oozed out of her brain at any minute. She mindlessly complied with him, spitting onto his lengthy fingers.

“Ah–! S’too much, Leon.”

“No, no, you can take it. I’ll be gentle, I know you want another one,” he said with a slightly mocking tone. “Greedy girl needs something to fill her up.” Plunging his fingers into her pussy, he groaned at the feeling of her slick walls still fluttering. “Y’haven’t even recovered from the first one, but I’m gonna give you another one,” he said, curling his fingers, “gonna be twice as strong.”

“Fuck, it’s too much,” (Y/N) knew her sobs of pleasure were pathetic sounding, but she couldn’t muster anything else up as she tried to push his wrist down and away, not being able to stand the feeling of his two fingers prodding at her most sensitive spot.

“Don’t fight it,” he warned, “not when you’re so close. Yeah, I feel you getting all tight on me. Mm, you’re gonna love how it feels, it only gets better from here, pretty girl.”

Leon became more aggressive with his movement, moving his whole arm as his fingers jammed in and out of her. (Y/N) was lost in her ecstasy. Her hands shook and flew aimlessly before taking purchase of Leon’s shoulders and holding onto them, nails digging into the skin.

Her second release, as promised, was much stronger. Her legs clamped around him, her moans came out in long, shaky intervals, and her brain was mush. She couldn’t force herself to focus on anything but the cum dripping out of her cunt and down Leon’s fingers and forearm. She screwed her eyes shut, feeling even the dim light of her bedroom to be too much for her now fucked-out, slutty head to handle.

She hardly noticed when he had placed on her back in the bed with her legs spread. Not until he guided his cock across her folds, tapping the head of it against her swollen, abused clit.

“More?” she asked, voice breaking and weak. “Can’t take it ‘nymore.”

“C’mon, sweet thing, you can give me one more, can’t you? Just one more?” He whispered into her ear, slowly pushing into her, holding himself back.

“Jus’ one? No more after that?”

“Mhm, just one.” Leon bottomed out and stretched her walls with his girth. The tip of his cock gave sweet, shallow kisses to her cervix’s tip, gently pressing into it with each thrust. His hips rocked into her, but he felt his dick being forced out of her walls, pushed out of her heat. “Even after all that, still tight f’me.” He slid back in, rougher this time, trying to keep himself inside. “Need somethin’ to stretch you out, baby. Good thing y’got me now.”

His hands were placed under her knees, scooping and holding them apart while he fucked her. He slowly transitioned from fucking and burrying his cock into her, to bringing her body forward, bouncing her on his cock.

“Leon—”

“Hush, now, you’re okay. Mm,” he wiped the drool from the corner of her mouth, “look at how you take it. It’s like you were made to be used like this, sweet girl. Maybe you’d be better off as a toy.”

She moaned at this, feeling her cunt twitch at his words.

“Yeah? You like that?” Leon’s eyebrow raised at her a bit, teeth barring in smirk. “You like being a little toy. Being– oh, fuck, you’re enjoying this so much. Your pretty little face...”

(Y/N) threw her arms over his neck, pulling him closer to her body. Their chests pressed together, her sweat slick between them both. “God, Leon, please!”

Leon pressed his mouth on her to quiet her down, swallowing her moans as their tongues and teeth gnashed against each other. He winced as (Y/N) bit down on his lip, choking back her sobs when she clamped down on his cock. Taking this as a sign, Leon emptied his thick, synthetic cum into her.

Once he pulled out, a mixture of both of their cum pumped out, gushing and wetting in between her thighs.

“Good job, baby,” he said, stroking her face, grinning at the warmth of her cheek. “You did so well, getting all cockdrunk for me. To think I was being gentle. Wanna try my rough mode out for size?” He joked, letting his hand grip her hip.

“Goodnight, Leon,” she responded, unimpressed at his teasing and tired from what he had done to her. She brought her hand to the back of his neck and turned his dial to ‘off.'

#barleyxnighteye #fanfiction #smutfic #smut #leon kennedy #resident evil #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #fanfic #leon kennedy x y/n #x reader #smut fanfiction #resident evil x reader #leon scott kennedy #alternate universe

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bigassmoonchild · 1 year ago

Text

The Aftermath

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Reader

Word Count: 2k

The first part does give context, but isn’t required for this read.

Summary: You knew the difficulty the process of being a mated Omega in the military. You understood how much you would lose, but you never thought about the difficulty in your normal life. Never thought about the panic you would have, or how much it would effect you and Ghost's personal relationship.

Content Tags: Hospitals, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, No use of Y/N, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha! Ghost

A/N: I was not expecting such a good response to Maple Syrup, and since y'all seemed to like it so much here's basically the next part. Let me know if you want anything specific, my asks should be open. <3 I'm adding a 'keep reading' link to make sure you can scroll on if you want.

Previous, Next | Headcannons, Masterlist

Everything felt wrong. Ghost wasn't injured, but he was being held overnight in the medbay. The Maple Syrup had run its course through him, but he could hear chatter echoing in the room. He could smell you, you weren't too far from him but he wasn't allowed to see you. Price had come in not too long after the doctors had checked him over and cleared him, arms crossed as he sat in the chair next to the bed Ghost was in.

"We'll need to talk, you know," was the only thing Price had said, leaning back and relaxing in the chair.

"Is the Doc okay?" Ghost asked, looking in the direction your scent was coming from. The sickly sweet smell of heat was becoming stale, but you were on lock and key just in case any Alpha soldiers tried to come in. Price looked in the same direction, giving a faint shrug.

"I'm going to be updated once she's steady enough for the doctors to leave her alone," Price said. "Gaz is on watch outside her room," Ghost nodded. Gaz was a Beta, so it would be fine for him to be that close. Ghost still didn't like it, he didn't know how his pack was, where everyone was, if everyone was safe.

It took a few hours, it was well past midnight before any movement came from the direction of your room. The curtains surrounding Ghosts bed was moved, the Doctor gesturing for Price to follow him. Ghost had tried to listen in, but it wasn't worth it. He was still in mild pain from the mission, the place where the tranq had stabbed him still throbbed every so often.

Price walked back in some time later, looking at Ghost with a sigh. That didn't make him feel good, panic started to flow through him, thoughts of you dying flashed in his mind for a few moments.

"She's gonna be fine," Price started. "They got her heat back under control, they're just waiting for it to finish cycling through her. Outside of that, she's fine," Price sat next to Ghost. "I can't ask you about what happened. I can only tell you what will happen," he looked away.

You woke up, head foggy and throbbing with a headache. You could see a form moving next to you, checking your vitals. You gave a soft groan, your neck throbbing alongside your core. Everything hurt, but you weren't able to tell if it was everything.

"You finally waking up?" The voice asked, and you could recognize it. "You've been out for a few days, you've even had Ghost trying to get in," she giggled a little. Amanda. That was her name, she was one of the nurses you'd been working with prior to the mission that went south.

At the mention of Ghost, you sat upright, vision spinning before righting itself.

"It was a really bad heat you were sent into, y'know. Took us a few hours to stabilize you, but you're doing good for yourself," she smiled, trying to lay you back down but you pushed her off of you.

"I need to talk to him," god even your throat hurt. She nodded slowly, sticking her head out of the door. You rubbed your head, headache now making you feel sick. It took a few moments, but you heard footsteps come in the room, a figure standing next to you. When you looked up, it was Price.

"There are some procedures we need to go through. I've already got some officers in, but we still need to talk about what happened," Price started, moving to sit in the chair near you. "Ghost has already spoken with them, so it'll be you, me and the officers. I think Laswell has flown in as well," you stared at Price.

With a few blinks, you looked down to think. Ghost had already spoken with the officers? You knew what the rules were like, and you knew that your career was now in his hands. It pissed you off, if you could really focus on feeling much outside of pain.

"The officers are trying to get him to make a decision on your career. I can't let you two talk about anything yet, the Adjutant Officers still need to figure things out before you'll be allowed near each other," Price looked away, your jaw tensing. You really had no rights anymore, did you?

It took another few days before you were released. The second you had clothes of your own to wear, you were gone off into your room.

Someone had been here. You could smell a stale scent, but you weren't able to place it. It was too distant to be able to decipher, but your room was exactly the same as it had been left before you were hospitalized. You didn't feel comfortable in your room, knowing someone had been here.

A knock on the door made you spin, nerves set tight. As you opened the door, a large figure came into view.

"Doc," Ghost started, before being yanked into your room and having the door slammed behind him. You turned on him, staring at him sharply. You pointed, opening your mouth before shutting it and groaning, running hands through your hair.

You kept trying to start talking before you stopped yourself, eventually kicking at the wall in irritation.

"What did you say to them?" You hissed, back still turned and facing the wall. You could hear him shift behind you, boots scuffing against the ground. You turned, storming up to him, chest to chest. "What the hell did you tell them? You gonna dismantle my career? Make me some fucking house-omega?" You were growling now, you could feel your muscles tensing.

When he didn't respond, you groaned, tossing your hands up in defeat and walking away from him. You turned, hand on your hip, waiting for a response.

"I don't want to take your career away," he whispered, finally. You barked a laugh, rubbing your wrist against your bitten gland. His hand reached out to grab you, but you moved away from him. "I don't want to make decisions for you," he added, voice growing more desperate.

You shook your head, pulling your hand away from your gland and shaking them out. Ghost reached out to you again, hand catching your shoulder before you shrugged him off.

"I don't know what to do," you whispered. "I'm terrified, because now I'm outed to so many people, and there's quite literally nothing I can do to save myself," you turned to look at Ghost.

He scoffed. "You think I'm going to ruin things for you? I've already told you, I don't want that kind of control over you," he looked away, crossing his arms. You could smell the distress on him.

"You have done shit to make me trust you!" Your voice raised before dropping, a hand running down your face. "I have zero control left, you know how many rights I have as a mated Omega?" He shook his head. "None," you glared at him.

Ghost glanced at you before looking away again. He shook his head, moving to leave before you blocked the door from him.

"You don't get to walk out when we're talking," you growled at him and he growled back.

"This isn't a conversation, this is you getting all pissy on me," he loomed over you, forcing you to take a step back. "I didn't want this to happen, I would have chosen any other way to save us, but we didn't get a choice, did we?" You looked away.

"Get out,"

He could smell the distress on you the second he spoke. Your scent left him spiraling, he was panicking. His Omega was distressed, and he was the cause. He wanted to fix it, correct the problem and make you happy again.

Ghost could do nothing when you repeated yourself.

"Get the hell out," you glared at him. Ghost opened his mouth to give you a retort, but you had turned away. He bit his tongue, turning to stare at the door.

"You know that's not what I meant," he whispered, opening the door and leaving.

Even after walking aimlessly for ten minutes, he could still smell your distress on your scent, the sour taste stuck on the back of his throat. This wasn't how he had intended to talk to you, he wanted to make a plan for when they asked him more questions regarding your career.

Ghost was pissed off, more so with himself than you, but he wanted to comfort you. Fix what he had said, take it back.

But he had a meeting to attend, and he needed to make sure he didn't say anything wrong.

You sat in the conference room, Price, Laswell and an Adjutant officer sitting across from you. This was the third time you'd gone over what had happened.

"So you say this 'Maple Syrup' is what caused Ghost to go into a feral rut?"

"Yes," you deadpanned, glaring through the Adjutant. "We've already been through all of this, there is literally nothing else that I haven't told you," the Adjutant hummed.

"We need to make sure everything is covered," he told you, looking at the paper he had been writing on for the past hour and a half.

You looked at Price, hoping he would help you in any way. He looked away, leaning further back into his seat.

"What about my career?" The room went silent, the Adjutant stopped reading, glancing over at Price who had finally looked at you. "I want to know what's happening," you whispered. The last few days had left you unsure of yourself. You wanted to confront Ghost, you wanted to apologize for snapping at him, you wanted to fix what you'd said.

None of them spoke, Laswell had opened her mouth to speak before closing it, taking a deep breath. Her fingers tapped on the table, looking at Price and the Adjutant.

She looked back at you. "You aren't allowed to make any decisions regarding that, you know," your head dropped back with a groan, wrist rubbing against your bitten gland roughly. You were terrified, you didn't know what the future was going to hold.

You had so little control and it was getting worse. You stood abruptly, going to walk out the door before Price spoke.

"Would you like to speak with Ghost?" You closed your eyes and took a deep breath. With people around, you wouldn't snap on him, but you also didn't want to see him since his last remarks. You really needed to know if you still worked here, or if he was going to force you to become a house-omega.

You nodded, turning around and sitting back down while staring Price down as he made a phone-call. A few moments later, Ghost walked in and sat beside you, but you still couldn't look at him. It was silent for a few minutes, everyone looking at each other, waiting for the first to speak.

"You still have a job here," Ghost spoke up. "I didn't let them remove you, but they won't allow you on missions anymore," he added the last part quietly. You nodded.

You could hear Price and Laswell ushering the Adjutant Officer out of the room, the door closing with a click behind them. Neither you nor Ghost talked for a few minutes, you could smell a certain level of stress on him.

"Thank you," you whispered, glancing quickly at him. He was staring at you, eyes watching your every twitch and shudder. "I'm... sorry, for the other day," you fiddled with your fingers. "I didn't mean to snap at you."

Ghost shook his head, hesitating before grabbing your hand, pulling it close to him and in turn tugging you towards him. You finally turned to look at him, and his eyes visibly softened.

He looked down, then back up to you. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said what I did. Not in the way I did," he tugged you even closer to him, nuzzling into your gland. "I don't regret having you as my mate now, but if I could've changed what I did, you wouldn't be stuck with me making decisions for you now," you leaned in to him, pressing your face into his chest.

It relaxed you, his scent, and allowed you to think much clearer.

"I'm just so scared,"

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irisintheafterglow · 1 year ago

Text

invisible string (gojo x you)

summary: the story of the first time megumi used ten shadows.

wc: 3k

cw/tags: fluff to angst/comfort and back to fluff, canon-typical violence, mild language, mentions of kidnapping, weapons (gun, knives), established relationship with pet names (babe, baby, sweetheart)

note: coparenting megumi? coparenting megumi. something about little megs at a dog shelter is just so cute to me but then yk we gotta have the soulmate-tie-object angst/comfort because it's impossible for me to write solely fluffy jjk content hope you enjoy!

likes/reblogs/feedback are appreciated <3

“Alright, Megs. Let ‘em rip.” You nod reassuringly despite the hesitancy riddled on his face.

“Are you sure I’m not going to hurt you?” His voice is small, different from his usual boredom. For the first time in the two years since you’ve met him, Megumi was scared. He was scared of causing you harm, and for good reason. Even though he was barely taller than your hip, Satoru believed it to be a good idea to tell him that, in the future, he could grow to become the next god of the Jujutsu world. It made the boy slightly nervous, then, to unleash something that he wasn’t a hundred percent sure he could control. “I’d rather test with Satoru in case something goes wrong.”

“You want to test with him or test on him, bud?” You smirk at his pursed lips and frustratedly furrowed eyebrows. It was no secret that he’d rather see your boyfriend get hurt than you, even though nothing could touch Satoru since he mastered unconscious activation of Infinity. “If you really want to, we can wait for him to get back from his mission, but that won’t be for another few days; I’d really like you to try out the technique with at least one of us with you, but it’s ultimately up to you.” You never wanted to push him into something that he didn’t want since he was already caught in a delicate balancing act. It was hard enough having the Zenins’ prized technique and even harder to prioritize relatively mundane spelling tests. If he were with his power-hungry relatives, you knew education and training would go hand in hand, but he’d also be taught that strength equals worth. That’s not shit you nor Satoru wanted such an inherently good kid to be learning.

He bites the inside of his cheek in contemplation and you can see the gears turning in his mind. “I don’t know how to…say it.”

“You don’t need to say anything if you don’t want to; you just do the thing with your hands.” You squint against the sun hanging high in the sky, bathing in the warmth that radiated from the school’s courtyard. An idea crossed your mind of bringing Megumi inside where there’s less light, but he stops you before you can say anything.

“No, it’s not that. I know how to do it, but I…don’t.” His eyes avoid yours in shame and you kneel down in front of him, taking his hands in yours. “I don’t know how to connect with them and I don’t know how to fix it.” You smile softly and gently ruffle the spikes of his hair.

“It’s okay, really. Let’s get lunch and then we’re gonna make a pit stop before we come back; does that sound alright?” He nods and the tension in his shoulders dissipates. “Go get your bracelet.”

He groans in protest. “Do I have to? It’s all the way over–”

“Megumi.”

“Fine.” His little steps run up the stairs in the direction of his backpack and you glance down at the shining black ring on your right hand lightly glowing with Cursed Energy. It was a gift from Satoru that you received a few months prior and a third of a shared present between you and Megumi.

“As much as I love you, it’s way too early to get married.”

“What? No. I wouldn’t propose using something as boring as that.” He shakes his head adamantly as Megumi inspects his gift with all the care of a scientist analyzing radioactive material. For all you knew, maybe it was radioactive. With a sly grin, he takes your hand and slides the ring onto your finger. “Look closer. I didn’t get it just ‘cause it’s shiny.” Your eyes narrow and you gasp when you see the faint aura of blue Cursed Energy imbued in the ring. “See it?”

“Why does it do that? It’s not a weapon, is it?”

“Wait and see,” is all he whispers before he takes the beaded bracelet from Megumi and slides it carefully onto his wrist, cinching it securely. “Alright, Megs. Tell me what you see.”

“It’s a bracelet,” the boy deadpans as his eyes flick up to Satoru’s boredly.

“Well, no duh, it’s a bracelet. Tell me all your practicing hasn’t been for nothing.” Satoru gives Megumi one of his rare serious expressions and you see the lightbulb flicker to life in Megumi’s brain. His eyes narrow in concentration on the bracelet and his mouth opens in realization. Satoru’s eyes shine in determination as he asks the boy what he sees.

“What color–”

“Blue. Light blue, like the sky.”

“Mhmm, good!” Your boyfriend hums triumphantly and pulls out a chain he must have been hiding under his shirt. Slung on the chain is a single black pendant glowing the same color as your ring and Megumi’s bracelet and you smirk in understanding.

“You’re putting GPS on us? Didn’t know you were the stalker-type, babe.” You admire the ring and stick your tongue out teasingly when Satoru’s expression becomes defensive.

“For the record, I am most definitely not that type.” A flash of amused skepticism blinks across Megumi’s face and you both catch it. “I’m not! I’m simply giving the people I care about a way of contacting me if something were to go wrong and they need me.” He crosses his lanky arms across his chest, huffing an indignant exhale.

He’s so cute when he acts angry. “Oh, when we need you, hmm? What about when you need me to get you toilet paper at three in the morning because you didn’t check before going to take a–”

“I’m still here!” Megumi’s slightly panicked voice pipes up and you can’t hold back your laughter any longer, doubling over and covering your teary eyes with your hand. Your boys start laughing with you, Satoru chuckling defeatedly and Megumi smiling a little nervously.

“So, what? We hold these and talk to you like walkie talkies?”

“No, that’s what phones are for. If one of these breaks, everyone else’s will too and I can use the Cursed Energy it releases to track where you are.”

“How will you know which one of us broke it?”

“There’ll be a significantly larger release of energy, or so I’m told.”

“Does it repair itself afterward? Or will I have to get a new one every time you forget a towel in the shower?”

“No, and I forgot to mention that these are for emergencies only. Dangerous emergencies only.” Your face falls and the big picture hits you like a semi-truck. He wanted you two to be connected to him at all times with essentially a direct SOS line to the most powerful human on the planet. He wanted to be able to save you, even if you couldn’t reach him through technology. The fact that he needed to think about this felt like several hundred needles in your soul. “But!” His serious aura is gone in a snap. “I’m already with you all the time so these will probably just become redundant.”

“Thank you, Satoru. This is really thoughtful of you.” You reach for his hand and give it a squeeze, the melancholy smile he shoots you making your heart ache. “Megs?”

“Thanks. I’ll get strong soon, though, and then I won’t need it.” Your boyfriend breathes a subtle sigh and smiles sadly.

“That’s exactly the point, buddy.”

From that moment onward, the ring stayed on your finger at all times, even when you showered or went to bed. It was there as you drove to lunch with Megumi, there when you called a friend for a last-minute favor, and there when his voice quietly asked from the backseat where the pit stop was going to be. It was there when his little hand wrapped around your pinky while you walked up the steps of the shelter, and there when you gave the front desk your name. The rich darkness of the band glittered as you were led outside into the yard and met with the cacophony of barking dogs, and stayed there while an attendant brought you two enormous Husky-Shepherds.

“What are we gonna do with them?” He hesitantly stands behind your legs, peering at the animals sprinting about the play area.

“We’re gonna help you make a connection, Megs.”

When the two dogs first enter the field, they bolt to the other side and back multiple times. After they seemingly run out their excess energy, they make their way to you and Megumi, who reaches out a cautious fist for them to sniff. He laughs softly when they affectionately lick his hand and nudge their heads against his body. Despite being huge compared to the little boy playing with them, the dogs were incredibly gentle and obediently brought back the ball whenever he threw it for them to fetch. At one point, he turns back to look at you with a grin brighter than the sun as the dogs race across the grass for the ball. You watch him observe the dogs in awe when they play-fight, tumbling over each other and lightheartedly nipping at each other. In the short time that you’re there, Megumi creates a game with them where he creeps around the perimeter of the fence; when they inevitably follow behind him, he jumps into a funny stance and the dogs leap away playfully, tails wagging faster than helicopter blades. You take a video and send it to Satoru, hoping it makes him just as happy as it was making you.

When the time comes for the attendant to take the dogs back to their kennels, Megumi has both his arms wrapped around the dogs’ necks and his head buried into their thick fur. You crouch next to him, rubbing his back while he kisses each dog on the forehead and commits their faces to memory.

“So are they going to be adopted?” He asks on the walk back to the car.

“They are. They’re gonna go home with one of the shelter’s volunteers who just so happens to be my friend from middle school. When I told her you were working on Ten Shadows, she invited us to meet them to better understand what it’s like having dogs.”

“I liked it.” His dark eyes twinkle more than you’ve ever seen before. “I like dogs.”

“I’m glad; I really am. Do you wanna get ice cream and try out your technique again at school?” He gives you a fierce nod and you smile, opening the door as he climbs into the back of your car and immediately grabs hold of his stuffed wolf.

To your surprise, he continues to talk about the dogs even after you leave the shelter.

“Would you ever get dogs like them?”

You can’t help chuckling at the earnest hope in his innocent eyes and you wipe ice cream from his chin with your thumb. “Why, you want me to get dogs so you can play with them all the time?”

“Yep.” He takes another confident spoonful of ice cream. The sun finishes its descent over the horizon as the sky rapidly darkens. You can see the moon in the reflection of Megumi’s eyes. “Do you think Satoru would get dogs like them?”

“Satoru can barely take care of himself, Megs, much less two other living creatures.” Cool night air breezes past your face while you finish the last of your ice cream.

“He takes care of you and me.”

“That is true. Though, sometimes it feels like we’re taking care of him, huh?” He snickers, meeting your gaze contentedly before his eyes flick over your shoulder, to something behind you. His eyebrows furrow in suspicion.

“Do you know him?”

“Who?”

“That guy. He’s been watching us for at least ten minutes.” You don’t look back at what Megumi sees yet, not wanting to raise unnecessary alarm. Instinct tells you something is wrong, but not your sorcerer instincts. You sense no immediate threat from Cursed Energy, but can detect the malicious aura from miles away.

“Cursed Energy?”

“Not that I see.”

“That’s weird. Is it okay if you finish your ice cream in the car?” He agrees wordlessly, eyeing the figure behind you that now walked closer as you turned to face it.

The man looks at you with a revolting sneer and nods to another person you’d seen lingering by where you and Megumi were eating. There were more men now, all with an equally predatory expression that made your skin crawl. Before you can grab Megumi’s forearm and start running, a hand darts out with a knife. You dodge it easily, but the momentary distraction takes your focus away from Megumi. One of the men grabs him and you scream only to be cut off by a rough hand over your mouth. You wiggle out of your assailant’s grasp and kick back hard and he goes tumbling down the sidewalk. Autopilot takes over while you take down each attacker until the sound of a readied gun makes you freeze, cold metal pressed against your back from someone you didn’t sense.

You catch sight of Megumi struggling in one of the attackers’ grips and shake your head, pleading with him to stop so he doesn't get hurt. He does, eyes wide with anger as you try to slow your racing pulse. The men were using Cursed Tools, you realized, but had no Cursed Energy which is why you couldn’t sense them coming. With sudden death at such close proximity, you couldn’t do anything but wait for an opening to attack.

“This the one?” The man holding Megumi shoves him forward and it takes all your willpower not to grab him and kill everyone within a three mile radius.

“Yeah. That’s the kid they want.”

“What do we do with his little babysitter?”

“Kill ‘em. Get rid of the body.”

You have half a second to concentrate as much Cursed Energy as you can to your back before a bullet collides with it and you fall forward trying to push back against the energy-infused metal struggling to pierce your skin. With a pained cry, you successfully reject the bullet but it knocks the wind out of you, your forehead hitting the sidewalk while you futilely try to pull yourself up. Head spinning and barely able to summon any amount of Cursed Energy, your hand against the concrete gives you an idea.

“Megumi, my ring!” Your voice sounds hoarse but he understands, throwing his hands together in the position you’d been helping him perfect for a week. You can’t tell who the screaming is coming from; but, in an instant, a gigantic white dog is tackling your assailants while an equally large black dog goes for the throat of Megumi’s captor. In that opening, the boy rushes forward, sliding the ring off your finger and smashing it to pieces. The beads of his broken bracelet clatter to the floor at the same time his technique wears off, the huge dogs returning to black voids. You grab Megumi and stumble to your feet, forcing as much Cursed Energy as you can physically create into your hands while your back hits a wall.

Not that you need it.

A telltale wave of vibrations hits your ears and your shoulder sag in relief when he finally takes form between you and the surrounding ring of men.

“Hiring mercenaries and kidnapping? That’s low, even for them,” is all he says before he’s moving faster than you can blink, and in seconds he’s cradling your face gently while the men groan in agony behind him. Your arms are locked around Megumi, holding him close to your body, but you don’t realize that you’ve slid to the floor with your back against the wall. Satoru briefly checks Megumi’s face but returns to you when he deems him safe. “Hey, babe. You can let go of Megs now; I think you’re strangling him.”

“Oh, shit. Sorry, baby.” You let your arms drop but Megumi’s arms stay squeezing around your torso, like you’d disappear if he stopped. “I hope I didn’t steal you away from something important.”

“Nah, I was finished anyway. I was souvenir shopping, in fact. I found a very delightful pair of socks with pandas on them that I wanted to get Yaga.” You chuckle and his hands brush stray hairs from your forehead. “Thanks for keeping my kid safe, sweetheart.”

“Our kid,” Megumi murmurs against your chest and Satoru turns a shade pinker. “You didn’t almost die trying to make sure I wasn’t kidnapped.”

“You almost died?” Electric blue eyes dart to you in alarm and you tiredly shush his worries, reassuring him that you did not, in fact, almost die.

“It was just a gun with Cursed Bullets. Not sure why they brought that if they were only trying to take Megs.”

“Probably thought he’d be with me.” Your boyfriend draws his mouth into a tight line and you lightly punch his shoulder. “Ouch, what was that for?”

“Stop thinking like that. I didn’t get hurt because you weren’t here. If it meant making sure he was safe,” you glance down at the boy curled into your body, “I’d get hurt like this a thousand times more.”

“Alright, let’s get you both home before that becomes a possibility.” His arms effortlessly snake under your back and legs, lifting both you and Megumi off the ground and pulling you close to his chest. The familiar, roller coaster-drop feeling of warping envelopes your body and you close your eyes.

When you wake, two pairs of arms wrap around your body as Satoru’s stretches over both you and Megumi, whose arms are firmly wrapped around your torso. A bright blue eye lazily winks open. Of course, he’s awake. You hush him before he says anything, glancing down at the sleeping boy between you both. He nods but his voice is still a loud whisper.

“I’m so damn mad I missed his first Ten Shadows.”

“It’s okay, babe,” you say as your thumb brushes over Satoru’s cheek and you think about Megumi playing in the yard with the two huge dogs.

“I doubt it’ll be the last time he uses it.”

[1] New Message - Volunteer Announcements

Today at 12:07 P.M

We are proud to introduce our Shelter Volunteer of the Month: FUSHIGURO MEGUMI (7 yrs old)

if you enjoy my writing and would like to support me, you can buy me a coffee on my ko-fi! you can also check out my full masterlist here :)

#jjk x you #gojo x reader #gojo x you #satoru gojo #jjk x reader #gojo satoru x y/n #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #fushiguro megumi #jjk angst #jjk fluff #satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo x you #satoru gojo x y/n #gojo fluff #gojo angst

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littlemissmasokitten · 4 months ago

Text

Welcome To The After Show Part 1

Pairing: Christian Yu x Fem!Reader

Genre: Smut (Minors DNI), Exclusive Situationship, Light Conflict w/ Healthy Communication

Synopsis: Christian Yu, or better known as the workaholic DPR IAN, and you are in a situationship only prevented from being more due to his heavy workload, otherwise, you two absolutely adore each other. Now with the first portion of his tour handled, he's more than ready to give you the attention you've both been needing.

Content Warning: Smut, pet names (Darling, Princess, Baby), LOTS of preface, L-bomb (More on the sweet side, curse my Asexuality), light fingering, nibbling, marking, nipples (lightly mentioned), open-ended.

Ngl, was supposed to have more smut but I got writer's block bad and I just want to throw this out into the world already. BE FREE!

Networks: @othersideoutlawsnetwork Part 2 Continued: Here

It had been a short while since the last time Christian had toured, and yet, so much has changed since then. Even though you hadn’t the chance to be by his side back then, you were proud to be here for him now.

Your relationship had been kept a secret and held a bit ambiguous for some time but everyone on the team knew something was going on between you two. All the times you left his recording studio looking more disheveled than the last, but the rumors still held true. The only thing Christian loved more than your body under his was the art he was creating day in and day out.

Even while you’d wished for your relationship to become something more, you continued to sit back, silently admiring his sleepless nights. You lived for the odd hours he’d wake you with a gentle caress of your face, happily presenting the 4-5 samples he’d created over the last hour you’d been asleep. Being woken by him was always a treat in itself though his diligence not only shone in his work but in the way he’d treated you as well. He was always certain to reward you for your patience and that was more than enough for you.

The coming days of the Seoul concert were busier than ever. You’d honestly expected he’d disappear off into his own world so you were surprised when he brought over matching luggage cases and invited you along to South Korea with him. Even though you’d only be able to stay in his Seoul apartment while he worked, it was a refreshing change of scenery and felt like a good use of your vacation time. You cozied up in his bed with a book or two and a bit of tea, staying up a little late into the nights just to see him back safe and sound.

Everyone knew the first day of the concert would be hectic and you stayed behind then as well. Despite the way he returned, stumbling into the apartment worn and exhausted, his eyes lit up telling you every little detail, and how much it warmed his heart getting to see "the lovely Dreamers" once again. In a moment, he clutched your hands in his and he begged you ever-so sweetly to tag along for his second performance the following day. Despite your initial hesitance toward the potential of being spotted, you agreed under the condition of staying in a secluded backstage waiting room.

Now here you are, as you promised you would be. A silent room with a few snacks and beverages, a couch, a chair, and the greyest walls imaginable. It was moments like this that made you wonder if it was really okay to continue living this way. You opened your phone for the Nth time, only to see fancam after fancam of his performances taking over your social feeds. A lighthearted sigh leaves your lips when you see him tying a bow on his head. “He’s so precious, of course this was all worth it”.

As the words leave your lips, you hear a light knock on the door. You eagerly sit up, a twinkle in your eyes. “Yeah?~” The door creaks open with Christian peeking in before sneaking in and closing the door shut behind him. You make your way up and both run into each other's arms once again. “Darling, it must get tiring to always be waiting on me like this but I can promise you…” he leans in, tucking your hair behind your ear to softly whisper against it “I’ve been waiting to get to you just as much as you’ve waited on me”. As each word gently falls upon you, your senses become enveloped by him.

The softness of his words tickling your ears.

The way his body fits perfectly against yours.

The scent of his sweat infused with the woody cologne he’d put on before the performance.

The sight of his stage makeup drying after running down his face.

By all means, he should be exhausted like any other day but the twinkle in his eyes as he looks down at you says everything you’d needed to hear.

In a moment, your lips are on his, your fingertips tracing up his shoulders to the dampened back of his neck. He gently caresses the small of your back as you exchange feelings for each other with actions alone. Between the heavenly plush of his lips, the delicateness of your tongues just barely swiping between desperate kisses, and warmth of your breaths colliding, what was meant to be a moment of understanding was rapidly spiraling into a deep, familiar desire.

A breathy moan escapes your lips and he takes it as an opportunity to graze your tongue with his. As quickly as you get a taste, his mouth leave yours and relocates to the base of your neck, one hand reaching up, tangling into your hair as he ever so softly marks you. “You taste delicious, Darling. I'm so lucky to have all this right here, waiting just for me". He guides you back against the arm of the couch and mumbles against your skin "Now, let me show you proper just how I appreciate you".

With a small whine of acceptance leaving your lips, he guides you to lean back, his hand giving your thigh a squeeze, thumb rubbing at the soft plush. He presses kisses down your chest, only stopping to mouth over the peak of your nipple clearly protruding beneath your thin t-shirt.

You loved the way it felt how he touched you, the butterflies in your stomach when he'd give in and spoil you with endless affection. But as his hand crept up your thigh, so had the worries deep in the pit of your stomach. "Christian..." you held his hand in place, causing him to look up to you once again. "What is it, Darling? Is something wrong?"

You swallowed hard and stayed quiet a moment before responding, averting his gaze. "I don't love the way things are ambiguous between us. Sometimes... I wish..." your words trail off.

"I love you, y/n. No doubt about that in my heart" he softly caresses your face. "You've stayed beside me through my best and worst days, you've held on through my busiest months and have been the anchor and breath of fresh air I needed in the times between. If 'official' is what you want, I'm more than ready to give it to you."

Your eyes widened, "Do... do you really mean it?" you say in a near to hushed whisper. He kisses you softly, slowly deepening the kiss, one arm snaking around you before leaning back to whisper against your lips. "More than anything, Princess. If it helps..." his free hand rides the rest of the way up your thigh, rubbing your heat through your leggings, a finger slipping between your folds "you can be as loud as you'd like now and we'll explain it all later."

Your breath hikes in a damn near squeak, only needing to see you eagerly nodding before he returns to ravaging your mouth once again. A second finger slipping between and you'd swear on your life the next day if asked that his fingers had never felt thicker. He nibbles your lip as his finger teases your entrance through the leggings. You give a small yelp, to which he kisses your lip all better.

"Don't get shy on me now, Baby. Lets lay you down this couch and I'll give you good reason to be loud."

The lingering time between then and the couch is spent up in a blind tango, your lips endlessly caressing each other's. Even as he sits you down and leans you back, his body only casts over yours the whole while. You pull him down closer by the loose hanging fabric of his shirt, yearning for him more desperately.

"Is my pretty girl already so needy? Well Darling, I'm more than happy to oblige." He props himself up on one arm, looking deep into your impatient doe eyes. His free hand brushes between your thighs, taking in the sight of you trembling with your breathy, half-lidded gaze. His fingers brush past your clothed core before snaking their way down your waistband and teasing your dampened folds. Your hips buck up for more but he raises his fingers away, kissing you deeply as he settles your hips back down.

"ah ah~, no moving for you, Darling..." he leans and whispers deeply "I've got you."

Part 2 Continued: Here

#christian yu #dpr ian #dpr ian x reader #christian yu x reader #smut #fanfic #writing #x reader #x y/n #y/n #yu barom #situationship #romance #relationship #other side outlaws network

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ddejavvu · 2 years ago

Note

What would it be like to do the break bite bang chocolate trend with rooster?? Hmmmm I wonder 😏

Break, Bite, Bang - Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x Reader

Summary: You and Bradley decide to try the viral tiktok sex chocolates, and you follow their instructions to the letter.

Contents/Warnings: smut (minors dni), dirty talk, p in v, oral (m and f receiving), afab!reader, fem!reader, handjob, thigh riding, use of aphrodisiacs, teasing, lots of messy makeouts

WC: 4.9K / navigation

feedback is greatly appreciated! comment, reblog, talk in the tags, send me a message, tell me what you think!

Considering Bradley's sex drive is already remarkably high, you're not sure why you bought the chocolates. But the countless videos of sweaty, fucked out couples that you saw on your for you page never failed to intrigue you, and when the little box comes in the mail, you're more than ready to put it to good use.

Bradley's just returned home from a run when you slit the box open, raising a curious eyebrow as he pants, "What'd you order, babe?"

"Chocolate," You hold up the package for him to see.

He frowns, too far away to read the words on the front, "I could have bought you a hershey bar at the gas station."

"This is not a hershey bar," You grin wickedly, "Have you heard of tabs chocolate?"

"Are they that fancy ass Australian company that charges, like, $50 per bar?" Bradley takes his workout towel, swiping at the sweat over his brow.

"No," You laugh, "They put aphrodisiacs in their chocolate."

"Aphrodisiacs," Bradley hums with a furrowed brow, "Isn't that-?"

"It's sex chocolate," You reveal, "You up for a bit more exercise today?"

"Sex-ercise," Bradley rushes for you with a shit-eating grin, far too proud of his shitty joke. He's grabbing for the chocolates but you snatch them away, lips wrinkled in a grimace.

"Hey, what-?"

"Not after that." You glare at him, "That was awful."

"Oh, come on!" He laughs, tugging the box out of your hands, and scanning the cover, "Come on, have some chocolate, honey, it'll make you feel better."

"Whatever," You grumble, snatching the little foil squares from their places, "Okay, break," You snap the square in two, "Bite," You hold Bradley's portion out for him, letting him take it from your hand. His mustache prickles against your skin and you bite back a giggle, stuffing your mouth with chocolate instead.

The sweet is savory and bitter on your tongue, with just the right amount of sugar. It's primarily dark, the aphrodisiac component, and you'd buy it for the taste even if it wasn't going to make you fuck like rabbits.

You don't get to swallow the chocolate and finish their signature slogan before Bradley's wolfed down his bar, tossing the package on the table and surging for your lips, "Bang."

The kiss he drags you into nearly buckles your knees. It's intense, it's made sweeter by the chocolate coating his tongue, and his fingers dig into your waist as he tugs you close.

"Mmf- Bradley!" You gasp, dragging in a lungful of air that he'd practically stolen from you with the kiss. He's eager to touch you, to feel you, to taste you as his lips never part from your skin, dragging from your own to the spot just under your jaw that makes your stomach tingly.

"You're- Ah, you're supposed to wait for the chocolate to kick in," You pant, hands slowly, subconsciously curling into his shirt as he sucks at your neck, "We're supposed to, like, see how long we can hold off."

"No fun in that," Bradley shrugs, "I already wanted to fuck when I got home from my run."

"You-" You laugh, breath hitched when his tongue comes out to lick over the skin that his teeth had just nipped at, "You're insatiable, Brad."

"How'm I supposed to keep my hands off of you, hm?" He hums, his breath hot and heavy against your neck. He sucks a patch of skin just to the left of your throat, one that makes your fist clench hard in his sweat soaked running shirt, "So fuckin' sexy, don't need a chocolate to think that."

"But- but we should wait!" You urge, wishing his hair was just the tiniest bit longer so you could tug on it to separate his lips from your neck, "Just to see how- ah!" He nips at your skin again, and a fire burns through your veins that's hard to ignore. It pulls you in, burns from the tips of your toes to the crown of your head, and makes you want to melt into his arms. But the taste of chocolate on your tongue makes you reconsider, and you wrestle yourself out of Bradley's arms.

"No," You pant, eyeing him warily as he watches you, "No, we have to see how long we can wait. Trust me, Brad, it'll make it so much better."

"I want you now," He whines, reminiscent of a kid denied a cookie before dinner. His tone helps tamp down some of the arousal that had risen briefly in your belly, and you take his hand. It's rough from work, calloused and strong. It curls around yours and you lead him to your bedroom, letting him perch on the bed while you unbutton your jean shorts.

Bradley's mouth falls open and he scoffs, "Babe! Don't tease me, how am I supposed to hold out now?"

"You'll be fine," You wave off his concerns, stripping out of your shirt next. It leaves you in a bra and panties you’d specifically chosen for their sex appeal, powder pink and lacy. They’re Bradley’s second favorite, behind only the navy blue set on the drying rack. But you’d used it last night, and you don’t want things to get boring.

“Fuck,” he huffs, flopping back onto the bed. His tanned skin is a stark contrast from the crisp, white bedsheets, only fresh and clean because you’d changed them last night. He watches as you strip yourself of the sheer chain he'd bought you three months ago, for your second anniversary, your initials and his dangling from the silver. The first night you'd had it, he'd torn it off of you during sex, and it had ruined the mood completely. One trip to the garage for some pliers had seen it back on your neck good as new, but you're not taking any chances this time.

"Good idea," He grins lazily, eyes meeting your own for only a split second before they trace your exposed body. He reaches out for your hip when you make for the bed but you jolt out of his reach, hands firmly placed on your hips.

"Bradley Bradshaw," You huff, "No touching! Not yet, you have to really wait until you can't take it anymore."

"I can't! I can't take it anymore," He insists, groaning low and raspy in his throat, "Babe, on a normal day, seeing you in that would get me going. But now you've just given me sex-drugged chocolate? How much longer am I supposed to wait?"

"As long as you can," You grin, something evil in the expression as you flop down onto your stomach beside him with a novel, "'Then we'll jump each other."

Bradley muffles another groan, this time with an arm over his face. When he removes it he reaches for the hemline of his own shirt, "Fine. But I'm stripping too, see how long you can resist me."

"Perfect," You hum, already cracking the spine to resume your place on page 235. You won't give him the satisfaction of seeing you flustered, even if you're having an incredibly hard time focusing on your book right now instead of looking over when you hear the zipper of his jeans.

He eases back into the mattress with yet another groan, the sound bordering on pornographic enough to stir something beneath your stomach. It's the sound he makes when you snake a hand south and squeeze at his half-hard bulge, whether it be an invitation to the bar bathroom or a suggestion after movie night. You think about the way he feels against your hand, thick and straining against his pants, and-

"You're bending that book," Bradley drawls, peering sideways at you, "Thinking about anything in particular?"

It's true, your hand is crumpling the spine and pages up like scrap paper. You quickly smooth it out, lamenting the wrinkles forever etched into the story. Maybe they'll become fond memories, depending on how explosive the sex is tonight.

'No." You grumble, refusing to glance at his sprawled out, near-naked form, "Mind your business."

“Testy,” he laughs, no doubt teasing you, knowing exactly what you’re thinking of, “Alright, babe, enjoy your book.”

Bradley sticks to the agreement and leaves you well enough alone, choosing to scroll on his phone rather than stare at you. You get into the zone of reading, but part of your mind is always on the slight buzz you feel between your thighs. It’s been there since the first kiss Bradley had trapped you in back at the table, and it hasn’t gone away since.

Your reading material isn’t helping. The characters, a soon-to-be-couple currently rivals on the swim team, are currently having a late night jacuzzi rendezvous. It's hot, steamy, and everything you want from Bradley.

You pray that he doesn't notice the clench of your thighs as you read on, trying to envision yourself in their current position. He's got her backed up against the wall of the jacuzzi, and every description of the noises he's making has you wanting to squirm in place for some sort of friction. He tilts her chin upwards with one thumb until she's looking back at him, reaches for her lips, and-

Bradley's hand smooths over the back of your thigh.

"Bradley," You warn, but he's two steps ahead of you.

"Relax, angel." He croons, the natural rasp in his voice sending heat straight south, "You just look a little tense. I was gonna give you a massage."

It's a game of chicken, a word Rooster doesn't like hearing because of the way Hangman uses it as a nickname for him. But you're not losing, so when his rough, large hands slide up your thighs, smoothing over the fabric of your panties, you breathe deeply before turning back to your book.

He gives you a few moments of silence, and they're anything but comfortable. Tension is thrumming through every vein in your body, concentrated in handprint shapes wherever Bradley's palms press to your skin. He stays true to his word and massages your thighs, but his thumbs edge up the curve of your ass, closer to their target than he knows they should be.

His fingers knead and squeeze at the soft flesh of your inner thighs, paying special attention to the hypersensitive skin between your cunt and your thighs. When he ghosts his fingernail over the crease there and you clench your thighs together, he knows he's got you.

"What'cha reading?" He plays dumb, leaning over your shoulders while holding your ass steady, "Woah."

"Shut up," You huff, "Stop teasing me."

"I'm not teasing!" He insists, with a squeeze to your ass that proves the opposite, "I'm just curious, and then I look over your shoulder and see that."

"What," You scoff, "What's so shocking to you?"

"His broad form looms over her own smaller one," Bradley reads, voice deep and raspy where he's leaning over you. His voice is just beside your ear, and you feel his breath against your skin as he continues, "-muscles in his arms on full display despite the near-scalding water lapping over them. He cages her in his embrace, no escape possible even if she wanted one. But she doesn't, not as his large, rough thumb comes down to nudge at her puffy, sensitive clit beneath the water. The fabric of her bathing suit presents a delicious friction, and her hips jolt into his hand with a shockwave of ecstasy."

He comes to an abrupt stop, satisfied that your cheeks are burning hot, and your core is probably similar. He waits for your reply, and when it comes in a shaky, ‘so what?’, he tightens his grip on your hip ever so slightly.

“You think that would feel nice?” He asks, and if he purposefully strains the muscles in his arm where he plants his hand by your head, he hopes you don’t notice. His other hand snakes beneath your front, pinned between your waist and the mattress as he finds your clit with experienced ease.

“Like this?” He thumbs at the sensitive bundle of nerves, and your hips buck like they’re scripted to, “That feels good?”

“Bradley,” You’re barely able to whimper, chocolate definitely taking its toll as your insides writhe with flames.

He takes your whine as an admission, shutting your book carelessly and nipping at your earlobe as he pulls his hands back to your hips, “Roll over.”

“Brad,” You start, but he flips you himself.

“Roll over,” He gushes, and the second your lips are in his line of sight, he’s on them. His own press enthusiastically to yours, a heavy pant released into your mouth as he braces his knees on the mattress.

“I cant fucking take it anymore,” He groans, choking out his words between kiss after kiss pressed to your mouth. His tongue is sloppy, licking up your own like he's trying to swallow it.

He's tasting chocolate on your tongue and you're tasting some on his, a sweet flavor that only reminds you of the intense burning sensation between your legs.

"Laying there," He rasps, dragging in breath after breath that he later spends sucking your lips between his own, "Ass up in those pretty panties. You know I've got a thing for your ass. Mmf- and," He breathes, hand trailing up your waist, "-your stomach. And your tits," He squeezes them through the sheer pads of your bra, "Fuckin' love your tits."

His knees are holding up up on the mattress, and he's plants one of his hands beside your head, just in the dip between your neck and shoulder. He stretches it, nudges his thumb against your jaw and prompts you to open your mouth. When you do, he leans down, capturing your lips in another steamy kiss. You're having trouble focusing on one thing at a time, what with his tongue lapping sensually at your own in smooth, eager strokes. Then his hand, fingers rough and heavy as they pinch unforgivingly at your stiff nipple beneath the fabric of your bra. When you jolt into his touch, your hips buck with the motion, and you feel the hard press of his arousal against your eager core.

Bradley hums approvingly into the kiss, parting with a sloppy trail of saliva and speaking hotly against your lips. "Needy, hm? Gonna grind your sweet pussy all over me?

"Yeah," You breathe, and without the press of his lips to yours, your head tips back, exposing your neck for Bradley to fixate on next, "I need- Oh, Bradley, I need you to fuck me! I need you to fuck me so bad!"

"I thought you wanted to wait," He goads, his mustache grating against the sensitive, thin skin of your neck, "I thought you wanted to see how long you could take it."

"I did! And I can't-" You choke on your words, the sound coming out more of a moan as he sucks harshly, wetly at the skin of your neck, "I can't take it anymore! Fuck me!"

You accentuate your words with another desperate roll of your hips, grinding your clothed cunt over Bradley's bulge. He's straining in the loose fabric of his boxers, a fact that makes your mouth water, and Bradley tears himself away from your neck to wrestle with his undergarments.

"Hang on, sweet thing," He hums, in response to a disgruntled whimper of yours. He knows you're aching, burning with desire, because he is, too. His cock bounces free of his boxers and stands hard, angled towards his stomach and oozing pre. It's the most mouth-watering sight you've ever taken in, and your tingling cunt drools a gush of slick against the fabric of your panties.

It's a struggle to get his boxers off, and it almost looks silly as he wrestles them off from around his ankles. But it keeps you waiting, lets that desire burn just a little longer in your stomach before it's extinguished, and as much as you're yearning for relief, it feels good to prolong your pleasure.

"Okay, I- oh, fuck," Bradley hisses, his thumb against the pad of your panties as his fingers slip beneath the hemline. He feels slick soak through the fabric at the slightest pressure from his single finger, reveling in just how wet you've gotten while waiting for him.

"You're- god, you're dripping," Bradley groans, the sound thick and lustful as his face screws up in concentration, "I just- I- I want to-" He gives into his urges without even explaining them, dipping down to stick his face in your cunt like a man starved. He pants into your pussy, conflicted on whether he should suck more slick out of your eager sex or take a breath. He does a healthy balance of both, if maybe a little lacking in the oxygen department. He doesn't seem to care that he's being suffocated, though, and he tucks his face further into your cunt than seems humanly possible.

His tongue writhes skillfully through you, in and out of your needy hole, against the underside of your clit, against the rarely-caressed skin between your thighs and cunt. He's a messy eater, slick smeared over the lower half of his face, even glistening in his mustache.

"Aah, baby," You gasp, face pinched in half ecstasy, half apprehension as he sucks at your clit, "No, don't- I'm gonna cum!"

"Do it," He urges, tongue licking a long, wet, slick stripe up your cunt before delving back between your folds, "I want to, mmf- feel you cum on my face, baby. Do it, give it to me, I wanna feel your cunt suck me the fuck in."

"No, but-" You reach for his face, sitting up in your pleasured haze, "I want- I want you inside of me when I cum! Please, Brad, I need your- ah! -need your dick!"

"You can have it," He promises, fingers coming to bully your puffy clit while he focuses his tongue on your sopping cunt, "Later. Cum, baby, give it to me."

He's speaking harshly, and his tongue reflects that in the sturdy, rough way that he licks you out. It's akin to the way he kisses, and you suppose he's making out with your sloppy pussy the way that he's tonguing it now. And it works, his insistence, the sting of his mustache on the most sensitive parts of your body, the ever-present pressure against your clit, you feel white hot, blinding pleasure roll over your lower half like a wave of fire.

"Ah- oh god, Bradley," You grunt, voice tapering off into a whine, "-BradleyBradleyBradleyBradley-!"

"Come on," He mumbles, lips barely able to form words around your slick-soaked cunt. He talks you through your orgasm, perhaps less gentle than a reassuring 'good, you're doing so well for me,', but arousing just the same in its gruff demand.

Bradley might be making more noise than you. While you're cumming with various whimpers, moans, groans, and everything in between, he's licking it out of you with lust-filled songs of praise. Every vibration of his vocal chords flows straight south, humming through your trembling cunt as you cum onto his tongue.

He's eager to continue even when you're finished, licking and sucking desperately at your sensitive pussy. It feels good, but you're almost too sensitive already, and you're not waiting another second for his cock.

"No, no-" You reach for his hair, using gentle handfuls of the stuff to guide his face out of your cunt, "No, Brad, I want- mmf!"

He doesn't let you tell him what you want; he doesn't have to, he already knows. He knows what you really want is between his legs, so rather than give you the breath to explain it to him, he surges forwards, knocking his lips into yours and using the momentum to lay you back down onto the mattress.

"Shit," You breathe, feeling his cock nudge at your sensitive cunt immediately, "I- Bradley, I- oh!"

He slams into you with no hesitation, hips on a mission to fuse with your own as he rams his cock into you. It's relentless, more desperate than you've ever felt him before, and you clutch at his broad shoulders as he buries his face in your shoulder.

"Holy shit!" He huffs, a grunting, groaning mess, "I- Jesus, angel, you feel so good, I can't- nngh! I can't get enough. Oh god," He pants, mouth falling open and tongue flattening against your neck, swiping up over your jaw. His mouth latches there, sucking harshly just beneath your ear at the curve of your jaw. His hips drive the same steady pace into you, filling you up impossibly deep with each pump of his cock. It's mind-numbingly hard, probably achingly painful to Bradley, and he buries it inside of you to get relief. The more he thrusts the deeper he goes, until he's slamming into your sweet spot with superhuman fervor. It's like he's chasing something, balls landing heavy against the curve of your ass as he fucks into you.

"Bradley," You moan, nails scraping against the tan, toned skin of his back, "Baby, ah-! Oh my god, keep- keep going!"

"I'm close," He grunts, voice muffled slightly in what you suspect is shame. His libido is strong, and he doesn't usually finish out this fast. But the chocolate counts for something, and he'd spent who knows how many minutes with his face buried inside your cunt with no relief down south. You're not surprised he's cumming quickly, nor are you put off by it.

In fact, you're aroused by it. The feeling of Bradley fucking into you so eagerly, so roughly, so needy; it gets you going. You feel another wave of pleasure begin lapping at your underbelly, maybe easier to rise this time because of the swell of the last one. The constant motion of Bradley's thick cock can't be doing any harm, either, and with every flex of his tongue over your neck as he sucks bruises into your skin, you feel your orgasm approaching.

Apparently, the way that your nails dig into Bradley's skin is encouragement for him, as well. Your thighs tremble from the weight of your previous orgasm, and the impending pressure of your next one, and Bradley's dick twitches like it's painful for him to keep it together.

"S'okay, Brad," You pant, scraping a hand up his back to cradle the back of his neck. He's still suckling on your neck, tongue and teeth working in tandem to mar your skin with marks, "S'okay, cum, honey. Feels so good, you- ooh, you feel so fucking good!"

Your encouragement helps, and his dick twitches again. You tug on his hair, and his thighs tense. But what really does it is the way you yank his head back with your fistful or his hair, pulling him out of your neck to kiss him and inviting him to occupy his tongue with your own instead of your throat.

The second your tongue brushes against his own, he cums. It's like a dam bursting, every ounce of arousal he'd tried holding in and prolonging bursting forth from his cockhead straight into your leaking cunt. You're already slick enough from all of your own release, but his gushes from the seam between his cock and your cunt, stretched and fucked dumb.

"Oh, oh my god," Bradley pants, the words flowing directly between your lips as he mouths at your tongue. He's desperate to do something with his mouth, he always has been, and it's no surprise that he'd taken time to appreciate your cunt earlier. He licks over your tongue, his own tucking to the inside of your cheek for a brief second before he sucks at yours again. It only makes your own arousal more intense, and before you know it, your second, possibly more intense orgasm is seizing you, tensing your muscles and spasming through you.

He cums for a long time, dick twitching and spurting cum the more he makes out with you, and the more your cunt convulses around him in your own orgasm. Your kiss is sloppy, it's messy, there's drool leaking down the corners of your mouth, and that's what makes it so effective to stretch out his orgasm. When you're both sure you couldn't cum more if you tried, he slumps over your chest, his full weight on you as he lays panting on your sweaty skin.

"Jesus Christ," He groans, voice broken and raspy with strain, "That- that was- fuck, the best sex we've ever had."

"Mm-hm," You nod lazily, enjoying a rare moment of breathing freely, "Yeah, we- we need to use those chocolates again."

"Yeah," He agrees emphatically, his mustache prickling against the skin at the slope of your breast, "I didn't think it would work. Not like that, Christ."

"I'm glad it did," You muse, and you feel Bradley shift against your thigh, his cock already half-stiff again. He grinds it into you, what you think is accidentally, but his groan lets you know it felt nice.

"Baby," You start, but he's already rubbing up against you once more, humping his hardening cock against your thigh.

"I need- I just need a little more," He almost whimpers, tightening his hold on your upper half, "Babe, I need- more, please!"

"Okay," You soothe, kissing his sweaty forehead, "Okay, here."

You reach down, hand at your side to feel for his cock. It's not hard to find, hot and heavy where he's bucking it against your thigh. You wrap your palm around the shaft, your thumb nudging up against the tip. You flatten your finger against his slit, pumping your hand up the length when it makes him jolt. He keeps his face buried in your chest, drool seeping from his lips and dripping down your breast. You feel it trickle over your nipple, sending a chill up your spine as it cools on your skin.

"Oh my god," He moans, lips desperately roving your skin until they find your nipple. He latches onto it, lips pursed and tongue relentlessly swirling over the stiffened bud. He keeps bucking his hips into your hand, though you're moving your fist to meet him. Remnants of his first orgasm and your second are slicked all up his shaft, and it's adequate lube as you stroke him towards another release.

Bradley's teeth pinch momentarily at your nipple, a sensation that makes you jolt. In doing so, you squeeze his cock slightly, your thumb pressing hard into his slit.

"Fuck!" He gasps, lips parting only to get the word out before wrapping around your nipple once more. Now that he knows what you're sensitive to at the moment he's merciless, nipping and biting and tugging at your tit with his teeth.

You're fucked out beyond belief, but Bradley's dick is practically pulsing in your grip, and the more tense his thighs get, the more restless he is on your tit.

Finally, he breaks away with a breath, "Wait! Wait, I wanna cum on your- in your mouth, babe."

"Okay." You pant, instantly on board, "Here, sit up, and I'll-"

You make to do the same, trying to struggle off of the pillow to prop yourself up against the headboard. But he holds you down with one strong hand, straddling your face instead. His cock hangs thick and heavy between his thighs, an easy reach for you. All you have to do is stick your tongue out and you can lick over half of it, something that makes him buck forwards into your mouth.

You gag slightly as the tip of his cock hits your throat, and he lets out a strangled grunt that tries turning into a whimper at the end. It's a flattering sound, encouraging you to wrap your lips around him and bob your head up and down as best you can while laying down.

it takes only a few sloppy strokes to the base of his cock and a gentle massage to his balls to get him to cum a second time, and you wish you had more time to appreciate the way his thick, toned thighs frame your head. They're nearly suffocating you, tan hunks of flesh and muscle, and want to bite them. You refrain, focusing on tonguing the slit of his cock so that he cums into your mouth.

"Holy shit!" He breathes, tone incredulous as he fucks down your throat, "Yeah, yeah- oh my god, babe, keep sucking, mmf- yeah!"

His cum spurts warm and plentiful over your tongue, something you're grateful for even if you almost choke on it. He pulls himself out of you to give you room to swallow, stroking himself through his orgasm, and he doesn't comment on the weak cough you give when struggling to swallow the cum pooling in your mouth. A drop lands on your lower lip, and you're eager to lick it away once you've finished your mouthful.

Bradley's looming over you now, breathing heavy and still straddling your face. You can't help but turn your head to kiss at his thigh, nipping softly at the muscle there and eliciting a gentle yelp from him.

"Easy," He laughs breathlessly, stroking your cheek, "I can't take any more. Jesus, I'm- I'm fucked out, babe."

"Me too," You agree, breathing equally heavily, "Brad, gimme my phone, I wanna do the- the trend thing."

He might not understand, but he complies. He dismounts from the mattress, thighs sadly no longer caging your head between them, and hands you your phone that's charging on the nightstand.

You cover yourself with the bedsheets while Bradley slips his boxers back on, and he comes when you beckon him to get in frame of the camera beside you. You're both the picture of fucked out, sweaty, panting, swollen lips and glazed-over eyes. You hit record, voice raspy when you speak: "Those chocolate things, they- they work good."

feedback is greatly appreciated! comment, reblog, talk in the tags, send me a message, tell me what you think!

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fluffytriceratops · 1 year ago

Note

Hi, I’m not sure if you’re still doing requests or not but if it’s okay, could I request a headcanon of maybe 2k12 and Rise!Leo x reader having a cuddle time? I don’t mind you choosing one of them, I totally understand. I love Leo so much he’s such a dork and needs to be protected at all costs 🥰 Thanks!

𝐆𝐢𝐦𝐦𝐞 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐦 𝐂𝐮𝐝𝐝𝐥𝐞𝐬 - 𝐋𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐨 [𝟐𝟎𝟏𝟐 & 𝐑𝐢𝐬𝐞]

notes: yes, of course! i would love to write this for you!! i'll do them both since you asked so nicely hehe, but this is my first time doing a headcannon of rise leo so i apologize if it's a little ooc. ^^ i hope you enjoy! <3 [also photo is not mine fyi-]

warnings: mature language/swearing, tooth rotting fluff,

tags: @thelaundrybitch @turtle-babe83 @leosgirl82 @rheawritesforfun @s-s-ironnie @post-apocalyptic-daydream @mysticboombox @drowninghell @lec743 @raphielover @raphslovemuffin80 @squirrelfurs @bibiz82 @pheradream-15 @kikithedreamerwriter @m1dnyt3-w0lf @scholastic-dragon @moonsua1

(if you would like to be tagged in my future tmnt x reader related work, feel free to let me know and i'll happily add you!)

i love you all sm! i'm sending all the virtual hugs and well wishes to you!! <33

---

2012 Leonardo:

- as a cuddle bug, you love a good cuddle session. and honestly, leo wont oppose to this as he too loves to cuddle with you.

- plus how can he say no when you waddle up to him with a cute pout on your face? wondering why he had left you in the bed all alone??

- "you fell asleep and i wanted to make myself a cup of tea." he hummed, extending an arm and watching with a warm smile as you curled into his side and nuzzled against him.

- "and? i don't see your point in leaving me. is tea more important than your beloved?"

- leo fights the urge to roll his eyes and bites back a grin. "well..."

- he lets out a laugh when you scowl and pull away from him, he catches you by the waist before you get too far.

- "i'm kidding, nothing is more important than you." he hums, planting a sweet kiss to your temple.

- you huff, puffing out your cheeks in agitation. "doesn't feel like it, leonardo."

- leo winces. "pulling out the full name, huh? that's a low blow, baby."

- "you shouldn't of left me for a sack of crusty leaves, dickhole."

- leo chuckles at this, shaking his head to himself. "i'll make it up to you, promise. shall we go back to cuddling?"

- you glance up at him, taking in the way he gazes at you adoringly. his ocean eyes are so full of love it makes your heart ache.

- with a soft smile and a nod of your head, you wait for him to grab his tea before making your way back to his bedroom.

- he places his mug on his bedside table before climbing into his bed. you wait for him to get comfy before climbing in as well. planting yourself on top of his chest.

- leo runs his hand up and down your back in a comforting manner. watching as you trace invisible patterns into his skin with your index finger.

- he loves laying with you like this. the rest of world falls silent when the two of you get to cuddle.

- it's like the only person in the world is you. you're all that matters.

- leo see's you getting sleepy again, eyelids falling heavy. he lets out a breath of content when you nuzzle yourself further into him. pressing your face in the crook of his neck.

- "i love you." you mumble, breath tickling him.

- "i love you, too." he whispers, wrapping his arms around you and holding you close.

- cuddle sessions with you were the best. there was no place he'd rather be than here. with you safe in his arms.

---

2018/Rise Leonardo:

- leo's a clingy mother fucker. he loves a good cuddle. and honestly, he can be a tad clingy.

- but you can't complain, because you love cuddles too. and leo's good at cuddling.

- sometimes, however, it can catch you off guard.

- you're laying on the couch, scrolling through random tiktoks on your phone when out of nowhere a body practically launches itself on top of yours.

- your breath leaves you and you grunt at the sudden weight. "holy fucking shit-"

- you can't see leo's face, it's buried in your chest and your face heats at the sight. "what the fuck are you on?"

- "cocaine." comes his muffled reply and it makes you snort and roll your eyes.

- he tilts his head up, resting his chin against you as he stares up at you cheekily.

- "you're such a shit."

- "but i'm your shit. and you love me." he purrs, smirking at the way your face heats even more.

- "shut up. you didn't have to launch yourself onto me like that. if you wanted cuddles so damn bad you could have asked, asshole."

- your hand finds his shell and you begin to trace the grooves, knowing how much he likes it. leonardo practically melts in your arms.

- "you would've said no-"

- "that's a fat fucking lie and you know it."

- leo pouts dramatically. "you've got such a potty mouth today."

- "that's what happens whenever you're around."

- it's leo's turn to roll his eyes. "not my fault i take your breath away~"

- "only when you yeet your entire body mass onto mine without warning-"

- "don't be so dramatic." he nuzzles further into you, wiggling to try and get more comfortable.

- you sigh, "you're lucky i love you."

- he beams at this. "see, what did i say-"

- "i will throw your ass onto the floor."

- leo shuts up at that. but you don't miss the massive shit eating smirk on his face. the sight makes you smile.

- "i love you too." he says after a moment, pressing his face into the crook of your neck to plant a few tender kisses to your skin.

- it's your turn to melt against him. "you better.."

- tossing your phone onto the floor, you wrap your arms around him to the best of your ability. your legs are tangled together and your breathing evens out. hearts beating in perfect sync.

- cuddling with leo felt like heaven. and while you'd never say it out loud, cuz he'd never let you live it down, you honestly adored every second of it.

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sunnie-angel · 6 months ago

Text

Part 1: The Meeting

part 2 | series master list | ao3 link

jason todd x f!reader

summary: a friendship with jason todd hovers on the edge of something more but there are reasons lurking just out of sight that complicate things.

tags: fluff

rated explicit (mdni) | wc: 2.6k

a/n: this first chapter is fairly light, but this series is intended to get much darker in tone and content. i’ve got most of the series planned out so i’m going to try and be more consistent with updates (but no promises).

The first time you see Jason Todd, he’s chewing on the end of a pen and staring off into space. He’s in your Theories of Poststructuralist Literature class, sitting two rows up and one seat to the left of you. What catches your eye is how lonely he looks. The seats around him are empty and there’s an air of loneliness to him that goes beyond first day jitters. The professor’s at the front, still unpacking her bag, so you’ve got still got a few minutes to stare as much as you’d like. Your friend, looking up from where she’s fiddling with her computer notices your interest, knocks her elbow into you.

“So who’s that,” she says in an undertone, “your new classroom crush?”

“Oh I am not that bad,” you retort, mock offence dripping from your words. “No, I just think he looks lonely.”

“Yeah, and cute.” This time you elbow her, hoping he didn’t hear Danika over the sounds of shuffling chairs and feet. Mercifully, the professor clears her throat to begin class, cutting off whatever else your friend was going to tease you with.

“All right, welcome to Theories of Poststructuralist Literature. I’m Dr. Okafor, and I’ll be…”

Throughout the rest of class, you can’t stop stealing glimpses of him out of the corner of your eye. Danika has to prod you twice to get you to take a copy of the syllabus and pass it along the stack of papers. You manage to pay attention just long enough during the self-introductions to find out that his name is Jason, and that he’s doing a degree specialization in British Literature. Class ends a half-hour early and your head’s already swimming, a list of readings and concepts already tripping up your thoughts. It means that you’re distracted, not paying attention to what your friend’s doing as you scramble to get your things situated back into your bag.

“Hey! Hey new guy!” Your head snaps up at the sound of Danika’s voice, loud and moving away from you. To your horror, she’s walking right up to Jason, and worse, he’s starting to look around for who she’s talking to. With no one else around him, it becomes evident that there’s no one else she could be addressing.

“Yes, you. Hi! I’m Danika. Me and my friend,” she gestures lazily back at you and you can already feel the mortification burning up your cheeks, “were planning to meet up with some other friends in the program for lunch after class. Want to join us?”

“Oh, um, sure? I need to talk to Dr. Okafor first, but I can meet you both right after.” He says, a little bit flustered by the invitation. He runs his fingers through his curls as he speaks, you notice.

“Great! We’ll just wait outside for you.” Satisfied, your wayward friend turns around and grins, giving you a thumbs up from where only you can see it.

“Seriously?! What was that?” You hiss at her when she finally reaches you.

“What, you said he looked lonely. Now, he’ll be less lonely. C’mon, have you texted the group chat yet that we’ve got a plus one for lunch?” Shouldering your bags, you pick your way out of the classroom, hopping over errant bag straps littering the aisle and maneuvering around people going through the motions of first day back greetings. Keeping Danika’s blonde head in sight, you pull out your phone and shoot off a message, slipping it back into your pocket before there’s time for any responses. She’s already waiting for you by the door, one hand twisting the ends of her hair in the way she only does when she’s uncertain.

“Really though, is it okay that he’s coming to lunch with us? Because I can go right back in there and tell him you suddenly came down with a stomach bug and I have to get you home.” Her concern cools the panic and annoyance knotting your stomach.

“No it’s fine.” She gives you a look, the one that says she doesn’t believe you. “Really. I’m kind of annoyed you didn’t ask me first but it’s whatever. Best case scenario, we get a new friend out of this. Worst case, he goes back to just being classroom crush.”

“I knew it!” She crows. “Wait, wait this is big. You never talk to your classroom crushes. Do you need to practice your pick up lines on me?” Faux seriousness drips off of her. Jason appears as if summoned, popping up behind Danika’s shoulder with uncanny quietness.

“Hey Jason, were you able to talk to the prof?” You ask, forcibly trying to keep your voice casual. Danika freezes, mouths sorry at you, before whirling around to face him.

“Yeah, thanks for waiting. And thanks for inviting me to lunch.”

“Anytime!” Smoothly your friend steps in to direct conversation. “We were just planning to head to the food court in the student union.” She starts walking, confident that the two of you will follow her and you do. “So Jason, how come we’ve never met before this class? Between our friend group, I think we’ve met or at least know of all,” she waits for your nod in confirmation, “of the literature and writing students in our graduating class.”

He exhales before answering, taking the moment to gather his story together. “I’m a transfer student. I started my degree a couple of years ago but had to stop for family reasons. I finally got the chance to get my records together so I could transfer to Gotham U and finish the last few credits to get my diploma.”

“But you’re from Gotham originally?” You can’t quite keep the weight of Jason’s full attention on you yet, breaking eye contact but still feeling his eyes on you. “Your accent sounds a lot like the neighbourhood I grew up in.”

“Gotham born and bred. The city called me home.”

At the entrance to the food court, Danika catches sight of your friends first, waves excitedly over at them, before heading off at a rush to the booth they’ve secured. She leaves you and Jason to trail behind in her wake.

“So you’re from Crime Alley then?” Jason takes the chance to ask you.

“Hmmm? Oh yeah, my family lived there until I was maybe 12 or 13. I moved back when I started at Gotham U because it was the only area I could afford without roommates.”

“I’m back in that neighbourhood too. D’you know that place—”

The two of you reach the table with your friends and then there’s no time for him to finish whatever he was planning to say.

“Everyone, this is Jason. Jason, this is Will, Rei, and Catalina.” As Danika introduces them, each person gives a nod or little wave. Will, as always, seems bored by everything going on around him that isn’t related to the book in his hand. Rei’s got one arm around Catalina where she’s curled into his side. He lifts his hand quickly in a sort of half wave, a genuine grin causing his cheeks to push his glasses up his face.

“Please, call me Lina,” Catalina says warmly. “Sit down, sit down, tell us all about yourself and why we haven’t seen your pretty face around here before.” If you didn’t know her any better, you’d say that Lina was flirting with him. Since you do know her, have since your Intro to Creative Writing in first year, you know that this is just what Lina’s like. Always a compliment for everyone ready on her tongue, unafraid to say a good thing no matter how it might appear. Jason, having only been introduced to her seconds before, did not know better. A tinge of red dusts the top of his cheekbones and he rubs awkwardly at the back of his neck.

Trying to ease the moment, you say, “Here, do you want to sit down first before the interrogation begins?” You gesture to one of the two open seats right next to Will, Danika having slipped into the empty spot beside Lina. She must have hurried over to say something to them, because this isn’t your usual seating configuration and it’s got you a bit wrong footed.

“No, no it’s fine. You go first. D’you need me to hold your bag or something?” He offers instead.

“I’ve got it. I’ll just tuck it under my legs so there’s enough room.” You slide into the booth, Jason close behind. It’s a bit cramped with the three of you on one bench. Jason’s pressed up along the length of your side, and you can feel Will’s knobby elbow digging into your rib. In such close quarters, you can’t help but notice just how big Jason is. Your head barely clears his shoulder and unseen below the table you can tell his knee extends far past yours.

“I was just telling these two that I’m a transfer student. Only a few more classes and then I graduate at the end of the year.”

“Any plans for the great beyond yet?” Rei asks, head cocked like a bird to rest on top of Lina’s head.

“Oh give him a break, the poor man hasn’t even had any lunch yet. Let us grab food before you continue the 20 questions, yeah?” Rei looks a little sheepish at your interruption and the reminder that the table in front of you and Jason is conspicuously bare.

“I packed too much for lunch today, first day jitters. We can split.” Jason interrupts.

“I— are you sure? It’s supposed to be yours.” You’ve known Jason less than three hours, exchanged maybe five sentences. It’s not the grandest gesture in the world, but it’s so nonchalantly thoughtful and offered freely. It sends warmth through you as he pulls out Tupperware, brushes your fingers as he hands over a fork.

“Don’t worry about it. And if you hate it, just pretend you don’t.” There’s absolutely no worry about that because it smells amazing. It’s some kind of pasta smothered in a creamy rosé sauce, chorizo and vegetables adding spice and colour. It’s the best thing you’ve eaten all month and he’s offering you half.

“You didn’t say that you were training to be a chef too.” You mumble around your second forkful. Skipping breakfast to catch the bus this morning had finally caught up with you and you’re starving. Turning as far in your seat as you can, you hunch over, left arm resting on the table to defend your excellent lunch from any thieves whose names did not start with J. Jason raises an eyebrow at your positively feral behaviour, satisfaction at your reaction filling his chest.

“That terrible, huh?”

“If you don’t give me the recipe eventually I might actually cry.” That startles a laugh out of him.

“Wouldn’t want that.”

“Why don’t you give him your number, and Jason can text it to you?” Danika interjects.

“Oh yes! Add him to the group chat too,” agrees Lina. Feeling rather cornered, you fish your phone out of your pocket and pass it to Jason for him to add his number one-handed. As he types, you give Danika a look that screams what are you doing. She shrugs, then bites into the foil-lined wrap she’d pulled out of her bag. Rei says something, trying to draw Will into the conversation, but is met with the usual non-committal hum. Giving up with a sigh, he starts talking to Jason, Lina and Danika chiming in every few questions or so. It’s an easy dynamic, far easier than you thought it would be when you first laid eyes on him that morning. Focused on your food, you don’t take notice of most of the conversation going on over your head. Your phone alarm starts to chime and vibrate. Fumbling with the fork and your phone, you manage to switch it off quickly as Jason looks at you inquiringly.

“Sorry, I’ve got another class across campus in Meade Hall starting in 15 minutes. I’ll have to run in five.”

“Is it ‘From Wollstonecraft to Frankenstein’ with Baird?” He asks between bites. “I’m taking that too.”

“Funny story, that. But we’ve really got to go soon if we’re going to make it on time.” He quickly downs the last bite, the two of you gathering your things in a rush to go.

“It was nice meeting you all. Thanks for the invitation Danika.” He throws the farewell over his shoulder, then turns to keep up with you as you speed walk your way out of the building. His longer legs eat up the distance you’d accidentally managed to put between the two of you. It’s completely unfair because while you have to keep up your awkward jog-walk, he settles into a loping walk that’s stupidly attractive, his hands shoved into the pockets of his leather jacket and bag slung over one broad shoulder.

Quickly, the two of you find your way to class. This time, instead of sitting alone, Jason’s right beside you sharing a table for two. His pen scratches over the pages of his notebook, handwriting spiky but neat. He takes care not to bump you with his elbow, aware of the space his body takes up. Class flies by quickly, Professor Baird an engaging speaker despite the long time block. It’s dark by the time the two of you leave the classroom, and it’ll get darker still as the days get shorter. You stretch your arms above your head, lean side to side in an attempt to work out the stiffness of your lower back.

“So what now?” Says Jason’s voice from just behind you. You turn to face him, aware of just how far you have to tilt your head back to look him in the eye.

“For me? Catching the bus home and throwing something together for dinner. What about you?”

“Something similar. You’ll be okay to get home though? Crime Alley after dark s’not the best place to be alone.”

“Yes, mom. I’ll be fine. The bus stop’s only a block from my building.” This is a conversation you’ve had with all of your friends, family, and even casual acquaintances and hearing it again has you rolling your eyes. But it was meant in kindness so you don’t take offence at the implication that you can’t look out for yourself. “But I wouldn’t mind it if we walked to the bus stop together.” Jason’s grin is so bright even in the darkening evening, lit by the campus street lamps.

The walk to the bus stop isn’t far from Meade Hall, but the two of you manage to stretch out the minutes. Feet get placed one in front of the other slowly, heels dragging behind. The night’s a wonderful cool Fall evening, not many people bothering to stay late on campus during the first week back. It’s only the two of you on the path cutting across the quad.

“What about you? Are you back in the Alley too?” you ask.

“Most of the time. Even if you leave, it doesn’t really leave you.” He responds.

“Jason Todd, are you secretly a romantic?” You tease.

“Incurably. Wouldn’t be able to survive Brit Lit otherwise.”

His grin is cheeky as he waves you off on to the bus. There’s something still lonely about him, face drained of colour by the bus stop streetlamp, a lone figure watercolour blending into the shadows at the edges. The bus pulls out with a rough jerk momentarily pulling your attention away. By the time you look back through the window he’s walking away, hands in his pocket and shoulders hunched over with that same unfairly attractive walk.

#jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #jason todd x y/n #red hood x reader #red hood x you #jason todd fanfiction #red hood fic #jason todd imagine #jason todd fic #sunnie writes 🌻#divider by benkeibear

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ailithnight · 2 years ago

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So! Giving my reblogs to this amazing art by @providencehq their own post so I can keep adding on to this fic at my own leisure.

Please don't ask to be tagged. I'm relegated to mobile and simply cannot keep up with a taglist. All additions will be going in the reblogs on this post, though. So feel free to come back here periodically to see if I've added more.

I'm currently up to 3 chunks with 1 more in planning.

So, without further ado:

Caught and Content

Daniel James Fenton had died at 14.

And every day since then he has counted as a blessing. Especially the good ones, but even the bad ones. The terrible ones. The days so horrid that Danny wouldn’t wish them on the worst beings in the universe. Danny treasured them still. Because every breath, every too slow heart beat, even the ones that pulsed with terror and exhaustion and agony, every one was a miracle. A moment of life that Daniel James Fenton wasn’t meant to have any more.

Borrowed time.

That’s what it was.

Danny had been living on borrowed time since he was 14. And he had long since made peace with the fact that his borrowed time would some day run out.

He’s 20 now. 6 whole years he wasn’t meant to live but did anyway.

A few more months and Danny would be 21, old enough to buy his first alcoholic drink. But even if he lived that long now, he wouldn’t get the chance. The GIW would ensure that. Tuck had celebrated his 21st a couple months ago, and Sam a few months before him. Danny would never get to celebrate his with them.

But that was okay. As said, Danny had long since made peace with the uncertain nature of his borrowed time. He didn’t need to go out to a bar with his friends and celebrate that he had survived 21 whole years. It would have been a lie anyway.

Daniel James Fenton had died when he was 14.

He was in the Watchtower now. Power suppression cuffs and collar making his already battered body feel even more weak and achy. Batman was staring at him. Superman and Wonder Woman seemed to be telling him things. Or asking. Interrogating. Danny paid them no mind. No answer he’d given them before seemed to satisfy. And he already knew what would come next.

These were government sanctioned heros. They were bound to the law. And the law said Danny must be turned over to the GIW. And since Danny had already escaped them and his parents once, he doubted they’d be keen to lock him up again. Research be damned, Phantom was too dangerous to be left alive. Or whatever facsimile of alive Danny existed in right now. Daniel James Fenton had died when he was 14.

So Danny ignored the government sanctioned superheros. He didn’t let his mind wander to tomorrows he’d never have. He had made peace with his death. So now he took every moment left of his breathing beating blessing to turn his gaze out the large Watchtower window.

Nothing else mattered as Danny beheld, breathed in, drowned in the last he’d ever see of the infinite beauty of the cosmos. He let himself relax, smile, and relish in the miracle of being here, of being allowed to see it one last time. And up so close, too.

And when the heros grew tired of Danny’s distraction. When they led him to a new room without any windows to peer out of. Danny stayed relaxed. Stayed smiling. He closed his eyes and waited for his borrowed time to run out. Even as Batman stared and Superman and Wonder Woman interrogated and the power suppression devices drained him of excess energy and he’s pretty sure the GIW were on their way to arrange his execution; he was contented.

Danny was not afraid. He was happy. At peace. Why would he be scared? After all, Daniel James Fenton had died at 14. Every moment since has been a blessing he has been grateful to have.

Because

Daniel James Fenton had died at 14.

#DP x DC #my writing #Caught and Content

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hellodarling1357 · 11 months ago

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Tiny Toes: Part 3 - Cassian x Reader

And now we have Cassian and reader telling Ottie about their relationship!!

I know absolutely nothing about child speech development, so if Ottie seems to be talking too much for a 2.5 year old, let’s just say it’s a fae thing 🤷‍♀️

Here's part 1 and part 2 if you need to catch up! And please let me know if you want to be added to the tag list, or if I have accidentally left you off of it!

If you have any requests for this series, send them in! Writing Tiny Toes is bringing me so much joy 😍

A/N: they wanted to wait a little while before telling Ottie to see if they would actually work as a couple

Word Count: 2.7k

“I want to tell her.”

Looking up from your book, you quirked your head at Cassian, noting his continuous pacing across the length of your bedroom and his hand tousled hair.

“Okay, we’ll tell her,” Sitting up from your spot against the soft pillows, you put your book down and curled your knees to your chest.

Cassian let out an exasperated noise as he ran a hand through his hair for the umpteenth time, looking at you intensely for a moment before continuing his pacing.

“Or we can wait.” You counted, this was entirely up to him, however, and whenever, you ended up telling Ottie, it would be on his terms. Another frustrated noise had you fighting back a giggle before letting out a small sigh as Cassian fully collapsed onto the bed beside you. You watched in amusement as he rolled onto his side, smushing his face against the skin of your thigh. You moved your hand down to trail your fingers through his hair, giving him the space and silence to process his thoughts.

“I don’t know what to do.” His voice was muffled against your skin, but he leant into your touch, eyes closing at the feel of the soft tugs at his scalp.

After a few minutes of silence, Cassian let out a sigh then pressed a trail of kisses along your thigh before shifting his head to look up at you.

“Hi,” You whispered, a small smile gracing your features as you pushed the stray pieces of hair out of his face.

“Hi,” He whispered back, pressing another kiss to your soft skin before hauling himself up to lean against the headboard and tugging you towards him until you were cuddled against his side, his head now burrowed into your neck as he trailed patterns along your hip.

“Cassian, we don’t have to do anything yet.”

“I know, but I want to. I want more than this for us, for you –”

“It’s fine, Cass. I don’t mind waiting.”

“Sure, but it’s not fair to ask this of you, and don’t try to tell me otherwise,” He pressed a kiss to your shoulder before wrapping his arms tighter around you. “I don’t like that the only time we can be together is when Ottie isn’t around. I want her to be a part of this, and I want you to be a part of us.”

You remained silent, turning your head slightly to slant your lips over his in a soft kiss before leaning your head on his shoulder and inhaling his scent that you had grown so accustomed to over the past few months. You weren’t going to offer an opinion on the matter, content in letting Cassian work through this in whatever way he thought was best for Ottie.

“She’s been asking about you, you know? Doesn’t get why you’re no longer looking after her.”

“You know I don’t mind, if you need me to –”

“No. Thank you, but no. I think it’ll be easier for her to process, adapt, if she no longer sees you as her babysitter, but as someone who is properly a part of our lives.”

“Okay,” You let a comfortable silence fall before adding, “Whatever you decide, Cass, you know I’ll support you.”

“I know, sweetheart.”

*****

Doing your best to ignore the pattering of butterflies in your stomach, you hurried up the steps leading to the front door of Cassian’s house. Letting out a breath, you quickly knocked on the door, taking a step back as you fiddled with the small bunch of pink flowers you had purchased on your way over.

The soft pitter-patter of footsteps that you could picture running across the entrance way had a smile tugging at your lips.

“She’s here. Daddy, hurry up. I can’t open the door,” Ottie’s little voice filtered out to you, and you could just make out a small jump as though she was reaching for the door handle. “Daddy.”

“I’m coming, I’m coming.” Now Cassian’s heavy footsteps sounded on the other side of the door. “Ottie, I can’t open the door if you’re in the way.” You laughed at the exasperated sigh she let out before moving out of the way, finally allowing the door to swing open.

“Hey, you–” But Cassian was cut off by a squeal of excitement as Ottie leapt forward, wrapping her arms around your leg.

“Y/N, Y/N, Y/N,” Her little hands were now reaching up to you so with a grin you bent down and scooped her into your arms.

“Well, hello Miss Ottie. I’ve missed you too,” You smothered her chubby cheeks in kisses, laughing along with Cassian at the hysterical fit of giggles it sent her into.

“Hi,” You greeted Cassian, heart faltering as you found him already staring at you, a look of adoration shining in his eyes.

“Hey,”

You raised your eyebrows at him as if to say, “you ready for this?” The grin he gave you in return had the butterflies returning to your stomach for a whole different reason as your own features softened in response.

The moment was quickly interrupted by Ottie grabbing your face and demanding in her little voice, “Where have you been?” Somewhat startled, you looked back at Cassian, but he simply rolled his eyes as if to say that her sudden attitude was now the norm.

“Ottie, we spoke about this…” Cassian’s voice was laced with parental warning that you had so rarely heard. She let out a huff before turning as much as she could whilst still in your arms so that her back was to him.

In an attempt to diffuse the tension, you poked Ottie’s cheek, grinning when her pout made way to a cheeky smile. “Do these make up for it?” You showed her the flowers, laughing as her mouth fell open in awe and surprise before looking at you in confirmation.

“Are they for me?”

“If you’ve been a good girl for you dad they are,” Your voice had a teasing tone to it, fully aware of how much of a handful she had been for Cassian recently. Ottie gave you a smile, a picture of pure innocence before nodding her head and reaching for the flowers.

A playful scoff came from Cassian as he watched on in amusement, his heart thundering in his chest at the sight of the two of you together.

“Really, Ottie? You’ve been a good girl, have you?” Her wide eyes turned to you, her innocent expression quickly switching to guilt as she wiggled in your arms in an attempt to escape Cassian as he tickled her sides. Placing Ottie back on her feet, you handed her the flowers, and she grinned up happily at both you and Cassian, all her previous attitude long gone.

Letting out a sigh, Cassian turned to you with an exasperated expression before saying, “Come on, let’s get these in some water then we can go, alright?” ushering both you and Ottie inside.

With Ottie running ahead, focus purely on her flowers, Cassian slowed his walk and linked his fingers with yours, giving your hand a soft squeeze.

“You ready?”

“Are you?”

“Daddy, I can’t reach the flower glass.” Throwing his hands up in mock frustration you giggle to yourself as you walk towards the kitchen.

“It’s called a vase, Ottie. Do you want me to fill it with water so you can put the flowers in it?”

Ottie nodded enthusiastically, walking over to you, she leant against your legs as you watched Cassian reach up for the vase; you didn’t miss the rise of his shirt and the exposed skin it left in its wake. Cassian, apparently, didn’t miss the way your eyes lingered, shooting you a suggestive smirk and wiggle of his eyebrows as he turned to fill the vase.

“Up?” He asked Ottie before swooping her into his arms and helping her place the flowers into the vase. “Now what do we say?” He prompted her, placing a kiss to her cheek as he turned to face you.

“Thank you for my flowers, Y/N.”

“You’re very welcome, Ottie.”

Ottie shifted slightly and wrapped her arms around Cassian’s neck, loudly whispering, “Daddy, can we please get some ice cream now?”

That had been the plan you and Cassian had come up with; take Ottie out for something fun and then gently tell her in a setting where she could be easily distracted if you didn’t think it was going to end well.

“I think that sounds like a perfect idea, princess.”

With one arm holding Ottie to his side, Cassian placed his free hand on the small of your back, gently guiding you all to the front door, his hand falling to his side so that his fingers could gently brush against yours as you headed into the city centre of Velaris.

*****

Ottie looked like the happiest person alive with her mega-three scoop ice cream cone, covered in sprinkles and chocolate syrup. Cassian had quickly handed you both your own and his ice cream cones so that you could get Ottie out of the store before she could spill any of the sticky mess that was already leaking down her arms as he paid.

“Enjoying yourself there, Otts?” You asked, watching as she sat on the bench, swinging her feet back and forth with a happy little smile as she ate her ice cream and watched the fae walking around the square.

“Mhm,” was her satisfied reply. “Y/N, can I please try some of your ice cream?”

“You don’t think you have enough there?” You questioned, already extending the cone to her so that she could try some.

“Nope,” She made a delighted noise at the taste, “Now some of daddy’s ice cream?”

“Quick, before he catches you.” You grinned at Cassian as you passed Ottie his ice cream, fully aware that he was watching the scene play out as he walked over to you.

Cassian sat on Ottie’s other side, sneakily trying some of her ice cream while she was focused on his. She looked at him in complete, utter indignation.

“That’s mine,” Her pout had you both laughing, and Cassian was quick to point out, “Well you tried some of Y/N’s and some of mine, so it’s only fair to share yours too.”

You and Cassian fell into a comfortable silence as you enjoyed the feel of the sun across your skin, content in listening to Ottie ramble on about whatever thought popped into her head.

Leaning back against the bench, Cassian stretched one arm over Ottie, pulling her into his side, and then extended it over to you, nudging you closer as well, before he started to absentmindedly twirl strands of your hair throughout his fingers.

“Hey, Otts? Do you remember asking me the other day why Y/N hadn’t been over in a while?”

“Mhm,” Ottie replied, continuing to swing her feet back and forth as she leant her head against Cassian’s side, one of her hands reaching for yours to hold in her lap. Cassian’s eyes found yours before he said anything else, you gave him a small smile and a reassuring nod, watching as he took in a deep breath.

“Well, when you first met Y/N, she was coming over to look after you because daddy had to go back to work for Uncle Rhys,” Ottie tilted her head up, giving him a look as if to say duh, I already knew that, which had you fighting a smile at the thought of what she would be like as a teenager. Cassian gave her nose a soft flick before continuing, “But after spending so much time together, Y/N and I decided we wanted to be friends, but that means she can’t work–”

Ottie turned to you, a look of complete betrayal on her face that had you and Cassian tensing, “But you’re my friend. Does this mean you’re not going to play with me anymore?” The slight quiver of her lower lip had you grasping both her hands and pressing a kiss to the tip of her nose.

“Of course not, sweetheart. I love spending time with you,” You looked up at Cassian for confirmation that he still wanted to go ahead with this before continuing, “But now we will just be playing when you dad is home as well.”

“Oh. Okay.” Then she went back to swinging her feet as though nothing had happened.

“So, Ottie,” Cassian prompted again, trying to get the conversation back on track. “You’re okay if Y/N and I start spending more time together?”

“Yep. She’s your friend, like Auntie Feyre and Auntie MorMor.”

“Well, Y/N is a special friend, so it is a bit different from when daddy is spending time with Auntie Feyre and Auntie MorMor.”

“A special friend?”

Cassian looked at you for help, unsure how to explain any further; all you could offer was a slight grimace and a shrug.

“Erm, yeah, a special friend. So… so Y/N might start having dinner with us… and sometimes she might have a sleepover and then have breakfast with us the next day” He gave you a look as though asking if what he was saying was the right thing. You, however, were too focused on the fact that he was telling Ottie that you might start sleeping the night to give him much in terms of a response – you didn’t expect him to be comfortable with you staying overnight for a long time.

“Oh,” Ottie’s voice peaked in excitement, “you can stay in my room.” The grin she gave you was dazzling and reminded you so much of Cassian. You could sense his slight frustration, not knowing how to get the point across to a two-and-a-half-year-old.

“Well, at these sleepovers, Y/N could tuck you into bed and we could read you a story, but then once you’ve fallen asleep, she would be sleeping in daddy’s room, right Y/N?”

Giving her a reassuring smile, you nodded at Ottie, not knowing what else to say in this situation.

“Oh. Okay.”

You shared a look with Cassian, neither of you sure how to take her reaction. The slight tilt of Ottie’s head had you noting her look of contemplation, eyebrows furrowed in thought, again reminding you of the male you had very quickly fallen for. Then she let out a little gasp, turning on the spot so that she was now kneeling on the bench and facing both you and Cassian, a cheeky grin on her face.

“Daddy? If you and Y/N are special friends, does that mean you hold hands?”

Cassian turned to you with wide eyes to which you responded with a shrug and an amused smile.

“Um, yes, we do hold hands. Is that…okay?” His voice was laced with hesitancy as he closely watched his daughter for her reaction.

Her mouth gaped open before making way for a conspiratorial smile then she was climbing into Cassian’s lap. “Go on.”

Cassian looked to you again, “Ottie?”

She gave you a quick look then leant up to whisper in Cassian’s ear, “Hold her hand, daddy.”

Cassian, eyes still fixed on you, broke into a smile which you were quick to return, taking in the obvious release of tension as he scooted down the bench and laced your hand in his.

“How’s that?” He whispered to Ottie, eyes still on you.

“Good.” Then she was happily swaying in Cassian’s lap, leaning her head back against his chest as she went back to watching everything that was happening in the small square.

You looked back at Cassian, a grin gracing your features at the relief and love that sparkled in his eyes. He shifted slightly, using one arm to wrap around Ottie, keeping her snug against him whilst still being able to hold your hand, the other was draped over your shoulders. You moved with him as he pulled you in closer, pressing a kiss to his cheek and then to Ottie’s before resting your head on his shoulder. Cassian leant his head down, placing a kiss of his own against the top of your head, a quiet “I love you,” whispered into your ear.

*****

Part 3.5

Tag List: @mis-lil-red @sarawritestories @beardburnsupersoldiers @eve175 @blushingfawnsposts @turtleshavesoulmates @slytherinindisguise @sleepylunarwolf

#cassian x reader #cassian acotar #cassian x y/n #rhysand acotar #azriel acotar #marley writes #cassian x you #cassian imagine #dad!cassian

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toruro · 2 years ago

Text

love you twice — j. wonwoo — part three

pt.1 pt.2 pt.3 pt.4

description: in which your extremely hot and sexy one night stand turns out to be your son’s teacher. naturally, chaos ensues, but you might just find love as your life continues to take an unexpected turn.

warnings/tags: sexual content (18+), oral (f receiving), phone sex, mentions of past toxic relationships, thigh riding, wall sex, use of pet names (mostly angel and good girl)

w/c: 8.3k

a/n: so sorry this took a while to get out! i’ve had lots of work and just finished up traveling soooo writing this got pushed back but! that gave me time to brainstorm since i honestly never expected this story to be more than two parts LOL! but i appreciate all the love and support <3 all your comments and messages have made me so happy, and i hope you like this!

“Hey Kei-Kei!” you call out, walking out to the playground to watch your son play with his friends. It’s Friday, and of course that means fun day. You sit down at a bench crossing your arms over your chest as Kei makes his way from the slide to run up to you.

“Hey Mommy, I can play today, right?” he asks with a hopeful smile. You reach down to ruffle his hair a little, nodding.

“Yeah of course. I’ll wait here, so come to me if you need anything, okay?”

“Mhm,” he agrees, before running back to play with his friends. You smile contently, leaning back into the bench when you see a familiar figure approach from the corner of your vision.

“Hey,” Wonwoo greets cooly, sitting down next to you. It’s been a week since your fourth date, and you haven’t seen him since. Your fingers are aching to reach over and hold his hand, yet you hold your touch, glancing at Kei.

“Hi, how was your day?” you ask casually, turning to him to see him better.

“It’s great. Fridays are always great, aren’t they?”

“I guess you’re right about that. I can’t remember the last time I wasn’t happy that it was Friday,” you murmur to yourself thoughtfully before turning your attention back to Wonwoo. He’s about to respond, but then you both hear a familiar voice calling for you.

“Hey Mommy,” Kei greets, running up to you from the side without noticing Wonwoo sitting next to you. “‘m getting tired now,” he says admittedly, and you pay on your lap to invite him.

“Is that so…” you murmur, “You gonna say ‘hi’ to Mr. Jeon?” You raise your brow and crook your head toward the man next to you, Kei turning slowly to realize who it is.

“Hi Mr. Jeon!” he exclaims happily, jumping onto your lap and waving brightly at his teacher. “What’cha doing here? Aren’t you on your weekend? My mom hates being at her work when she’s started her weekend, she always complains when her boss calls her on the evenings on Fridays.” Your cheeks burn as Wonwoo laughs, and you turn away.

“Is that so?” Wonwoo asks, looking up at you with a teasing glance. “Well, I can’t say I call this work, Kei. I enjoy talking to your m—“ he pauses to glance at you. There’s something thick in the air, as if there’s a line he doesn’t know if he should cross. “—I enjoy this,” he chooses to say.

Kei, in his young innocence, doesn’t pick up on Wonwoo’s hesitance. “Hmm, okay,” he says, placing a finger on his chin as if he’s thinking.

You look down at him, placing a hand on his head. “Do you want to go home now?” you ask him, eyes flickering at Wonwoo and sending a sympathetic gaze his way—you aren’t fond of cutting your time with him so early.

“Aren’t you talking to Mr. Jeon?” Kei asks, and your heart nearly melts at his consideration.

“Yeah, but if you want to go home we will,” you reassure. Kei frowns, and Wonwoo chimes in.

“If you’re tired you should go with your mom, Kei. Playing is nice, but you should always listen to your body,” Wonwoo explains, standing up.

Kei’s frown deepens, and you furrow your brows, peering down at him. It’s not often that Kei is pouty like this, so you aren’t sure what’s going on. He’s motioning his hand for you to come close, and you figure he wants to tell you a secret. Leaning in, Kei brings his face up to your ear.

“I wanna talk to Mr. Jeon,” he whispers, and you have to bite down on your lip to hold back your grin as you pull back, giving him a small nod.

“Why don’t we talk together Wonwoo?” you suggest to the man standing next to you, and you can tell his eyes light up at the idea as he sits down.

“Yeah of course. What do you wanna talk about, Kei?” he asks, leaning an elbow on his knees to lean forward in interest.

“Okay so in class today you were talking about pie but I was wondering why you…” Kei continues to talk on his own tangent as you find yourself being into your own thoughts. Your heart swells at the sight, and it’s a wonderful reminder of just why Wonwoo is a teacher and why he has such a good reputation.

After a few minutes of Kei going back and forth with Wonwoo with his curious questions, you take note of the chilling air around you, and so does Wonwoo. “Anyways Kei, it was so nice talking to you but it’s getting a bit cold. You shouldn’t be out here for too long,” he says, standing up.

Kei pouts once more, and while you did cave once, you aren’t keen on doing it again. “He’s right Kei-Kei, I don’t want you to get sick…” you murmur, voice trailing off as you watch the look of defeat on your son’s face. A thought crosses your mind as you catch the look on Wonwoo’s face.

“Hey Kei, we can go to that restaurant tonight,” you tell him, enjoying the way his face lights up. “And…” you mumble, looking up at Wonwoo who stands above you, “maybe Mr. Jeon would like to tag along?”

Wonwoo’s eyes widen, and for a moment you’re scared that you’ve crossed the invisible line—it’s not as if you've made anything official, or talking about bringing things up with Kei, so this is all unknown territory. It’s silent, and you’re about to turn away and retract your idea before Wonwoo speaks.

“I’d like that,” he says, and you can tell he’s trying to hide your excitement. Your body courses with relief, and you look down at Kei for the final confirmation. As expected, there’s a grin adorning his face and you break out a smile of your own.

“Yay!” he squeals, hopping off from his seat on your lap. You purse your lips as you stand up and turn to Wonwoo slightly worriedly.

“Is this okay?” you ask quietly, as Kei runs across the playground to grab his backpack.

Wonwoo gives you a stern look, and you feel like you might go cozy from how intense his gaze is. “Are you okay with this?” he shoots back. “You’re his mom. Don’t do this if you don’t want,” he tells you more softly this time. “Don’t rush for me. I can wait. I will.” Your stomach tumbles at the words and implications—that Wonwoo is here, that he will be here, that he will be patient.

You let the words sink into your mind for a moment. You like Wonwoo—like really like him—and you want to tread carefully. You don’t want to make a stupid mistake by rushing into things, ruining the one good thing that’s come to you after Kei. Yet again, your gut feeling is nearly always right, and right now your gut is telling you that nothing but good can come out of this dinner between the three of you.

So that’s pretty much how you end up at your and Kei’s favorite diner, you and your son sitting side by side at the booth while Wonwoo sits across, his hands neatly folded as Kei continues to talk to him. You aren’t sure what’s possessed him—it’s really cute, honestly—but he’s never this talkative and you wonder just what it is about Wonwoo that has Kei so comfortably chatty.

“What do you like to get from here Kei?” Wonwoo asks, leaning forward in your son’s direction. Kei bounces up in his seat, pointing down at the menu, you and the man in front of you sharing a fond look before turning back to him.

“I like the chicken sandwich and the macaroni and the vanilla cake is so yummy even my mommy likes it and she doesn’t like vanilla and then I also like the chicken nuggets and—” You place a hand on his shoulder, and Kei stops to look up at you.

“Slow down, Kei-Kei,” you tell him. “One at a time, okay?”

“Okay Mommy,” Kei replies absentmindedly before turning back to Wonwoo to continue, “so then there’s chicken nuggets and I also like the milkshake and my mommy’s favorite is the fries but I don’t like them that much and I also like…”

Kei’s voice trails off in your head, your mind being pulled into some other world as the scene in front of you sinks in. You feel warm, you feel comfortable, you feel happy.

You’re floating in an off land world, and suddenly all of your worries have disappeared. All you see is bright white and three shadows. It’s a silent promise to yourself, you realize, and as you focus back on the banter between your son and your boyfriend, you become even more determined to follow through with it.

The evening ends with Kei not once halting his immersive conversation with Wonwoo, and if anything, you’re surprised that the latter still has it in him to listen so carefully and attentively. As he walks you two to your car, you’re hit with the slight disappointment that you can’t quite give him the goodbye kiss you would want to, but you both settle on sharing a long and intense few seconds of eye contact that sends you the message you both need to hear.

Arriving home, you wash yourself and Kei up, and after tucking him into bed you’re met with a text from your one and only.

i had fun

You grin.

i did too

It’s the next week, and you are once again in a rush before another date with Wonwoo. This time at least, you prepared your outfit ahead of time, but you spent maybe a little too long trying to find where you kept your favorite set of earrings which set you back about twenty minutes.

“Ugh, I’m sorry, I didn’t have time to make you guys some food,” you grumble to Jun once you have everything in your home in place, looking at your cousin exhausted.

He chuckles, “It’s alright, don’t worry, I’ll get us takeout or something.”

“I’ll make it up by making your favorite next time,” you promise, leaning against the counter. You spent the last few moments rushing around the house trying to find Kei’s stuffed animal that he insisted on having with him every night, eventually finding it stuck behind the fridge (how it ended up there, you still don’t know).

“I like the sound of that. You got a date tonight?”

“Is it that obvious?”

“So,” Jun says with an eyebrow raised. His voice is unusually teasing, and you give him a wary look as you take a sip of water. “Wonwoo, huh?”

You choke on the water, coughing and sputtering liquid everywhere over your counter as you turn to look at Jun with wide eyes. “How the fuck do you—“ you gasp out, before wheezing once more.

“He’s friends with Minghao you know,” Jun explains with a smirk as he leans back onto the fridge. “Me and him have met up a few times for dinner with friends and Kei was just telling me how you had dinner with Kei and his teacher…and so I asked for his teacher’s name and when he did it rang a bell and well…I put two and two together.”

You hardly blink as Jun finishes up his tangent, the words processing in half speed. Jun chuckles at your state, patting your shoulder lightly. “Wonwoo’s a great guy. It’s kind of funny though. How you’re like dating Kei’s teacher.”

“Shut up!” you shriek, punching his shoulder. “Don’t bring that part up, it’s embarrassing.”

“Hey, you kind of brought this upon yourself. Definitely unexpected, but I guess it’s a funny story.”

“It’s not funny,” you murmur solemnly, burying your face in your hands. “It’s so stressful Jun.”

The humorous look on your cousin’s face is now replaced with one of concern as your voice lowers. “Okay, I’m sorry for making fun of you. I’m happy you’ve found someone you like, and that he’s like, actually someone decent,” he adds, alluding to your previous past failed relationships.

Rolling your eyes, you huff, “Wonwoo is great…it’s just complicated. For Kei, you know? How am I supposed to bring things up with him, if things do end up going further.”

Jun looks up thoughtfully before responding. “I think…you should listen to your instincts. You haven’t really dated since Seojun—hey, don’t give me that look—“

“Do you have to bring him up,” you groan, throwing your head back. Jun shoots you an apologetic look but doesn’t relent.

“Look, I’m just saying that the fact that you’re even with Wonwoo right now is a good sign that you’re ready. You’ve never done anything without putting Kei first, and I know that you’re thinking about him every step of the way, so trust yourself. And Wonwoo is great—dude he’s literally a first grade teacher.”

“Yeah, I know, but he’s Kei’s teacher,” you emphasize. “Like imagine how confusing that is for him.”

“I guess, but like if you’re confident about your relationship or whatever with Wonwoo then I think you should trust that.”

“I dunno,” you sigh, walking out of the kitchen.

Jun follows behind you, placing a hand on your shoulder so you can look at him properly. “Trust me, and trust yourself. It’ll be fine.”

Fuck, you think to yourself, because you sure hope so. Chewing on the inside of your cheek, you find Kei in his room, giving him a quick hug and bidding him goodbye with a kiss on the cheek. “I’ll see you in a few hours, okay Kei-Kei?”

Focused on his own little drawing, he waves back with a small smile before turning his attention back to his drawing, saying something along the lines of, “Bye-bye Mommy!” Retreating back to the doorway where Jun stands, you check your phone for the time before picking up your purse and heading toward the door.

“Have fun with Wonwoo. I’ll be sure to ask him how it goes,” Jun says with a smirk as you turn the knob, glaring at your cousin.

“Do it and I’ll tell Minghao how you used his toothbrush on your last trip because you forgot your own,” you threaten.

Jun laughs as you walk out into the apartment hallway before worriedly calling out, “Hey you wouldn’t actually do that. Right? Right? RIGHT?!”

Wonwoo’s car is parked out in front of your building, his windows down so he can watch you walking out. When you recognize him and his car, you smile brightly and Wonwoo thinks his heart damn nearly pops out of his chest as you bound toward him.

“About time,” he greets with a smile, unlocking the doors as you approach the passenger seat. You roll your eyes at him as you open the door and slip in. Instead of responding, you choose to lean over the midrest and press a firm kiss onto Wonwoo’s lips, pulling back just as quickly as you dove in.

“Is someone complaining?” you retort, reaching back to put on your seatbelt, grinning at the way the tips of his ears turn pink and he turns back to look at the road.

“Not at all,” he replies quickly, and you’re surprised that he doesn’t sound as flustered as he looks, making it a personal goal to embarrass him just a little more the next time you have the chance.

The rest of the car ride is quiet, save for the radio playing in the background and small conversations about the view as he drives you to the spot he took you on your first date. Pulling up into the field, you grin at the familiar scene. The evening air is warm but the breeze is cool and refreshing on your skin, oranges and pinks painting the sky as you help Wonwoo take out the picnic blanket from the trunk and lay it out on a flat patch of grass.

“So,” you begin, sitting down across from him on the blanket as he pulls out some packed food. Handing you a plate, you grin, watching him settle down himself. “Jun?” you ask curiously, wondering the extent of his friendship with your cousin.

Wonwoo looks up at you with an odd look, one eyebrow raised. “Jun? What about him? You know him?” he asks all at once, causing you to giggle.

“You know him?” you counter, and he scoffs.

“Of course I know him. Him and his best friend are basically joined at the hip—he never shuts up about Jun,” Wonwoo groans as he stands up to walk back to the car to grab something.

“Minghao?” you call out, eyes trailing his figure.

“Who else, babe, who else?” Wonwoo mutters sarcastically, bringing out a bottle of champagne, much to your delight. You chuckle at his response, leaning back on your hands. “So, how do you know Jun?” he asks, sitting back down cross-legged in front of you.

“He’s my cousin,” you say casually, holding up one glass he’s brought down so he can pour you some. Wonwoo seems to falter in shock for a moment, eyes flickering at yours to confirm that you aren’t joking before pouring out the bubbling drink.

“Really? I didn’t expect that.”

“Are you surprised?”

“Hmm, I don’t know if that’s the right way to put it,” Wonwoo replies with a shrug, pouring his own glass and holding it up to yours so you can clink them together with a small ‘cheers.’ “I’m not that close with Jun. I guess you can say it’s a pleasant surprise, you know? We’re connected.” Your heart flutters at the words, scooting yourself closer to him. “How’d you know I know Jun?”

“Well,” you trail off, grabbing your fork and popping one of the fritters Wonwoo brought into your mouth, “Jun actually figured it out first. Apparently one day when he was babysitting Kei, Kei let it slip that we had dinner together and Jun asked for your name and…well he isn’t stupid so he got it.”

“Kei told him?” Wonwoo asks, and you can hear the twinge of worry in his voice. Reaching out a hand, you give him a comforting look.

“Yeah, I told him not to tell other kids at his school but obviously that doesn’t include Jun so he just mentioned it,” you explain.

“Oh thank god,” Wonwoo mutters. “Imagine the earful I’d get from the principal if word got around the parents that I was taking my student and his mother out for dinner.”

“I can imagine the earful you’d get from other moms to have their own dinners with you,” you murmur, huffing at the thought. Wonwoo gives you a funny look. “Okay don’t give me that look, you know they think you’re hot.”

“But I am hot,” Wonwoo replies smugly, and you glare at him as you pull your hand away from his to cross them over your chest.

“Whatever,” you grumble, turning your head away. Catching onto your sulky mood, Wonwoo reaches out on his own to grab your forearm to tug you towards him. You stumble over your knees a little, but within seconds his arms are steadying around your waist and pulling you next to him so you can rest your body against him.

“Okay sorry,” he tells you sincerely, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “I can’t control how they think, but I can control how I think, and I think that you’re the hottest person alive.”

Your cheeks burn, and you squeeze your eyes shut in his hold. “Shut up, don’t be corny.” Wonwoo laughs, holding up a sandwich to the front of your lips, encouraging you to open up. As you heed his silent requests, Wonwoo responds.

“You know you love it.”

Mouth full, you grumble something about telling him to shut up again, which has Wonwoo laughing more.

“Can I ask you something?” he asks after some time spent finishing your food and bickering, and you can tell from the way his voice is an octave deeper that this conversation is taking a different turn.

“Yeah, of course,” you say as you shift your head to a more comfortable position on his shoulder.

“And you don’t have to answer if you don’t want to,” he adds and you furrow your eyebrows, looking up at him. His expression is unreadable, but you have an idea of where this is going.

Thinking for a moment, you reply, “It’s about Kei’s father, isn’t it?”

Wonwoo frowns. “Am I that readable?” You smirk slightly at the way his cheeks tint pink, continuing, “Like I said, you don’t have to answer. I’m just curious.”

“No it’s okay, you deserve to know,” you quickly tell him, shyly adding the last part before turning back to look at the meadows in front of you. “Since you’re like, actually my boyfriend now.”

“Are you sure?”

“Wonwoo,” you breath out with a chuckle.

“Okay, okay, sorry just tell me.”

“Kei’s father and I dated in high school and college, but it was mostly on and off. It was weird. He was kind of weird.”

“Weird?” Wonwoo asks, raising a brow.

“We just didn’t match. Would get into arguments and break up over stupid shit and get back together for god-knows-why,” you explain, reaching for one of Wonwoo’s hands to play with as you recount the story. He lets his hand relax as you run the pads of your fingers over his palm, tracing them over the lines absentmindedly as you recount.

It’s a story that you haven’t often had to tell—you haven’t had anyone to tell—and the words feel odd on your tongue. The story of you and Seojun—no, actually, it’s the story of you and Kei—is one that you’ve mauled over in your mind for the past five years, spending endless tears to the point where even if you wanted to cry right now, you wouldn’t be able to.

“What’s this guy’s name by the way?” Wonwoo asks, interrupting your thoughts.

“Why do you wanna know?” you ask teasingly. “Gonna kick his ass or something?”

“I might,” he responds playfully, suddenly holding your hand that’s playing with his, bringing it close to the warmth of his body.

“Seojun. I think me getting pregnant was his kind of reality check that he wasn’t meant to be, as ironic as that sounds. Probably realized that fatherhood wasn’t for him, and so I wasn’t either,” you chuckle to yourself, and for the first time in a while, you laughing at yourself isn’t bitter, it’s light-hearted.

“I’m sorry,” Wonwoo tells you sincerely, and you can tell when you look up at him that his eyes are searching for the right words to say. “That must have been hard—to go through that alone.”

“I managed. I had Jun helping me anyways.” There’s a silence, and you feel there’s more Wonwoo wants to ask, yet he’s holding his tongue. You realize now that this might be an awkward topic for him to ask about, and you squeeze his hand tightly in reassurance. “Is there anything else you want to know? I told you, I’ll tell you what you want to know.”

Wonwoo sighs, looking down at you with an expression that is more solemn than anything. “I don’t want to probe.”

“You’re not. I’d want to know too,” you clarify. “I’m not upset about this or anything. I got over it a long, long time ago, so this isn’t really like an uncomfortable topic for me. Honestly, I was never even upset about Seojun in the first place, I was just upset that Kei wouldn’t have a dad.”

“What does Kei know, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“Nothing really. I guess he’s kind of aware that most people have two parents,” you murmur. “He doesn’t ask any questions though, I’m not sure why.”

“Kei’s smart,” Wonwoo tells you, letting go of your hand to run it through your hair soothingly. “Both academically and emotionally. Maybe he just knows when and where he should ask certain questions.”

“He’ll have to know sooner or later. I’m guessing later it is,” you say, rubbing your eyes a little from having them open for too long. “I guess this just makes my job easier. I have more time to think about it.” A thought crosses your mind, and you look up at Wonwoo with wide eyes. “Why do you want to know all this? I don’t mind, I’m just curious.”

Wonwoo chews on his lip, and you take a mental image (fuck, he looks hot, but now isn’t the time for that), before he responds, “Well you know I’m serious about you,” he begins to explain, and right off the bat do you feel something bubble up in your stomach—butterflies. “I just wanted to know the situation with Kei, so I have an idea of where that places me, you know?” You can tell he’s trying to be casual about it but the slight waver in his voice gives away his anxiousness.

“Mhm,” you agree. “It’s confusing, for me too. I think we should just go with the flow. If you really want to know more though,” you say, tossing him a playful glance, “Seojun isn’t going to come back any time soon. Or ever, for that matter, so you don’t have much to worry about.”

“Not much…so there’s still stuff to worry about?” Wonwoo chuckles nervously.

“Well you still gotta get through Kei—he’s the toughest judge, you know?”

“Is that so?” Wonwoo murmurs. “I guess I’ll have to start picking favorites in class now.”

“What a biased teacher!” you gasp dramatically, pulling back from his hold to turn and face him. “I’ll have to report you to the principal!” You crawl into the spot in front of him and place your hands on his chest, pushing him lighty.

Wonwoo grins, circling his hands around your wrists in front of him before replying, “Can you seriously blame me? I’m pretty sure every teacher would have favorites if their students had moms as hot as you.”

Your face burns and you drop your head to his shoulder so Wonwoo can wrap his arms around your torso and pull you onto his lap. “Ugh, you got me there,” you murmur, pulling back and placing your hands on his shoulders before swooping down for a kiss.

It hardly takes more than ten seconds before his tongue is sliding into your mouth, your hips pushing down to meet Wonwoo’s pelvis in an erratic mess. He’s pulling back just as quickly as he dove in, and the feeling of his lips leaving yours makes your head go dizzy.

“While I do love this, I don’t like the idea of doing anything in the car again,” he says casually, putting some space between you two. You frown, but nod along.

“So…” your voice trails off and you’re giving him that look and Wonwoo thinks he might just go insane.

He sighs, pursing his lips into a smile. “So…I guess this just means I’ll have to take you to my place. Again,” he adds, referencing the first night you two spent together after the club. You grin at his words, scrambling off of him and quickly trying to grab the picnic blanket to put back into his car.

“What a shame,” you reply sarcastically as Wonwoo hops up too, the tent in his boxers being ever so prominent. You force yourself to tear away your lustful gaze on the sight and turn back to the car.

Wonwoo gives you a warning look. “You don’t want to?”

“N-no! I never said that,” you mumble, shoving the blanket into the back seat before slipping into the passenger seat. Wonwoo trails slowly behind you, getting into the spot next to you as he starts the engine.

He scoffs, backing into the road. “That’s what I thought.”

As soon as the door shuts behind you when you enter his apartment, Wonwoo is trapping your frame between him and the wall. Your back being pressed up against the wood has the air of your lungs forced out of you and into his mouth as he leans down for a fervent kiss. Whining, you wind your arms around his neck, pressing his lips even harder into yours.

Your tongues meet in a sloppy mess but somehow your uncoordinated movements mesh perfectly in a hot mix of saliva and desperation. This is what you’ve been waiting for, you think.

It’s hard not being able to touch him, kiss him, hold him whenever you want. It’s hard not being able to mark him as yours whenever you please. You know Wonwoo is yours, yes, but it’s hard to hold yourself back when you see him from the corner of your vision when you pick Kei up from school.

Desperate nights in the middle of the week where you stand in the shower, hot water running down your even hotter body, and shove a hand between your thighs as you try to mimic how Wonwoo’s fingers curl into you in all the right ways.

It never feels the same, never, but the mental image of Wonwoo when you’re between his legs, cock stuffed in your mouth, is enough to bring you to the edge. Only barely, of course, and the aftermath of your orgasm always has you leaning against the cool tile in shame and desire.

You couldn’t control yourself one night, calling Wonwoo up at the dangerously horny hour of 11 p.m., not really expecting him to pick up. When he did, you nearly jumped in ecstasy before the breath caught in your throat when he asked if everything’s okay in that sweet tone of his and—fuck—you’re really fucking desperate.

When you bashfully admitted that you were needy, that you were ‘thinkin’ ‘bout him,’ Wonwoo had asked you, ‘thinkin’ about what baby?’ to which you meekly confessed that you were in dire need to feel him, feel the stretch, feel his cock.

He chuckled, and that was your plunge into reality—realization that you fucking called Wonwoo when you were supposed to be asleep, nearly begging him to get you off some way, some how, confessing to him that he’s the only way you can have an orgasm that’s actually worthwhile. Realizing how insane you might have sounded, you almost hung up, but then there was Wonwoo talking and his voice was an octave lower and there were sparks flying through your body.

Wonwoo, all low and hoarse, was murmuring filthy words through the phone, demanded that you stick your pretty fingers in, and rub your clit like the good girl you are until his voice alone was throwing you off the edge. You spasmed around your fingers while Wonwoo worked you through on the other end, whispering praise and sweet nothings until epiphany hit and you started apologizing profusely to him for being needy.

That night, Wonwoo assured you that it was okay. That it was okay you were so needy you needed to beg him for his help to make you cum. That it was okay you couldn’t be patient for him like a good girl. Tonight, you aren’t sure how much of honesty was laced in those words, at least, not with the words he’s spilling into your ear now.

Pinning your hands above your head in a tight hold, Wonwoo mutters, “You’ve been wanting this, huh?”

“W-Wonwoo, fuck,” you gasp when he latches his mouth to your neck, sucking and biting until there are are deep red and purple marks that are bruising your skin. Swiping his tongue over the tinted skin, you feel every part of your body throbbing, aching under his touch.

“Thinkin’ about me in the night,” he continues, letting go of your hands so you can let them fall to his head, gripping tightly onto his hair. Wonwoo brings his own arms to your waist, hiking them up your shirt and looping them through your belt loops to yank down your shorts. You shuffle your feet out of the loose clothing, managing nothing more than a moan when he wedges a thigh between your legs.

The hard muscle flexes through the denim of his jeans, Wonwoo’s hands on your waist helping you grind your throbbing core down on him. “Wonwoo,” you choke out, grabbing aimlessly at his shirt, tugging, pulling—anything to get it out of the way. It’s the first time you two have done anything since your first date, and it’s been even longer since you’ve seen him shirtless, thinking back to your first fateful night together. You briefly ponder on how things have changed in only a matter of a few months since then, and the rush of it all has you feeling dizzy and your knees growing weak as you lazily rock your hips against Wonwoo’s thigh, watching him peel his shirt off.

You suck in a break when you catch sight of the valleys and mountains of his chest—the curves that hug him so well and the abs that trail below, causing your eyes to be directed at the filthy v-line which disappears under the waistband of his jeans. “Like what you see?” Wonwoo grins, grabbing your chin and pushing you into a kiss as he slips one hand under your shirt. You choose to help him out when you pull away, quickly pulling the shirt over your head, letting it fall to the ground.

“Of course I like what I see,” you say without a hint of shame, your words coming out in pants as you feel a low pleasure grow as Wonwoo starts to bounce his thigh slightly. You whine when he lets his thigh fall, feet hitting the ground as you swivel your body in hopes to chase the feeling, causing him to chuckle at you.

“Patience angel, you’ll get what you want soon enough,” he eases, pulling away from your body slightly.

You pout. “And how do you know what I want?” you retort, immediately regretting your bratty choice of words as Wonwoo narrows his eyes at you. He doesn’t say anything as he sinks to his knees in front of you, watching you give him a confused look.

Tapping on one of your thighs, you lift it slightly only for Wonwoo to grab it and throw it over his shoulder, the realization that his face is dangerously close to your cunt finally sinking in. “Huh…” he breaths out, bringing his lips close to your soiled panties. “You don’t want this then?” he murmurs, not breaking eye contact with you throughout.

“N-n-no, I do,” you say hurriedly, shifting your position slightly so that you can balance yourself better against the wall. Your other leg has its heel pressed into Wonwoo’s back, and if it’s hurting him, he doesn’t say a thing. All either of you can really focus on right now is the smell of your arousal intoxicating Wonwoo’s system, and the intense gaze of his eyes on yours.

“Good girl,” he mumbles, and you press your eyes tight because you feel you might cum at the sight alone.

“Wonwoo, fuck—ple—”

Wonwoo shuts you up real tight when he licks a hot stripe over your panties, and you cry out his name from the unexpected pleasure. Fingers flying down, you grip on his hair tight, causing him to groan into your clothed cunt.

“Easy, angel,” he warns, but you can tell he doesn’t really care. Not when he only rewards your behavior by sliding the soaked fabric aside, revealing your slick folds to the cool air around you. “Holy shit, you’re dripping,” Wonwoo mutters, and your ears burn at the comment.

“D-don’t stare,” you mutter out, breaking your eyes away from Wonwoo under you, the scene causing your entire body to heat up.

“Can’t help it. So pretty,” he tells you, bringing one hand up to rub against the folds. “Can’t believe this is all it takes to make you a mess…” “Wonwoo—”

He continues, “Just lettin’ you fuck yourself on my thigh for a minute and you’re already so ready for me…”

“Shit—”

Wonwoo looks up at you with dreamy eyes. “You deserve a reward, don’t you think?”

“God yes.”

Wonwoo smothers himself in your folds as soon as the words of confirmation leave your lips, and the rush is so strong you’re in awe at how you don’t fall. Tangling your fingers in his hair once more, you let yourself grind down onto his face as his tongue digs through your wetness, tasting—exploring.

He goes back and forth, taking a few moments to let his tongue run through your folds before moving his mouth up and wrapping his lips around your clit. He throws out some flicks of his tongue and then sucks hard, causing you to slam your hand over your mouth to prevent any one of his neighbors from hearing such ungodly sounds.

“Don’t do that,” Wonwoo growls, halting his work on you to glare up at you.

“Sorry,” you squeak out, letting your hand fall to your side as you chew on your lip at the sight of his lips and chin all glossy and wet from your wetness.“Angel,” he mumbles before diving back and bringing his own hand up to rub against your hole. He teases for a few moments before catching the way your voice wavers when you beg for more, deciding to plunge in two fingers at once. He’s knuckles deep from the get-go, giving you hardly a moment to adjust to the overwhelming amount of pleasure before he’s easing them in and out of your tight cunt.

Between the thrusts of his hand, he’s curling his fingers against your walls just as he did a few weeks ago in his car—it's been so long since then that if you weren’t so dizzy from pleasure, you’d be amazed at how he still remembers just what gets you to your orgasm embarrassingly fast.

“Wonwoo—fuck,” you moan when he sucks against your clit while finger fucking you mercilessly. “K-keep doing that—’m gonna cum—fuck, gonna cum!” you cry out in shock as you feel your belly tighten up when he’s hitting that one spot inside of you that has your knees buckling.

Wonwoo only hums against your clit but that’s enough—with the vibrations and his warm tongue and his fat fingers, you’re writhing against the wall as he rides you through the orgasm that you’ve been aching for for weeks.

Coming down from your much awaited high, Wonwoo slowly slips out his fingers out of you, and you finally notice the way your arousal not only coats his hand, but drips down into a filthing fucking mess all over his forearms. Slightly appalled with how dirty this all is, you lift your hands from his hair as he starts to stand up, bringing them to cover your face.

“What the fuck,” you murmur with a hoarse voice, only releasing your own cheeks when Wonwoo forcefully grabs your wrists and yanks them down.

“Stop,” he instructs, before cupping your cheeks himself and kissing you deeply so you can taste your wetness on his tongue. “That was hot,” he says casually as your eyes rake over his body, finally landing on the bulge that pressed against your stomach.

“Felt so good…” you praise, hands ghosting over the imprint of his cock over his jeans, drinking in the sight of his Adam's apple bobbing up and down. “Can I repay the favor?” Wonwoo watches you intently for a few moments and then shakes his head, causing a frown to make its way onto your face.

“Wanna fuck you,” he clarifies, and the crude choice of words has your cunt clenching and gushing once more. “So where do you want it…” Wonwoo asks before listing his offers, “bed, couch, counter…?”

Your vision trails over his apartment that you haven't ever really had the chance to look at properly at his place. You aren't really keen on doing any inspecting now though, especially now that an interesting thought comes to mind. “Can we…can we do it here?”

Wonwoo looks at you like he just fell in love at this moment, and in his head, he thinks he might have just done exactly that. “You're insane,” he grunts, unbuckling his belt and shoving his boxers and jeans down in one go. His cock springs free, and you can’t control the way you instantly grab out for him, fingers scooping out the leaked precum as it swipes over the tip. He curses lowly under his breath, grabbing one of your legs to hook it around his toned torso.

Wrapping your hands around his neck, you pull him down for a sweet kiss as he slides his fat cock through your folds as a way to lube himself up in your slick. “You’re insane,” you finally shoot back, lifting yourself on your tippy toes so it’s easier for Wonwoo to line himself up with your entrance.

He’s pausing with his tip barley inside you, reading your face. “You ready?” When you nod up at him with thick lashes, you certainly aren’t expecting him to pull you down onto him, and you’re even further shocked out how he pushes up into you simultaneously, his cock filling you up balls deep in one go.

“Wonwoo!” you cry out, head thrown back as it hits the wall. The pain on the crown of your head is dull, but the stretch you feel from your cunt overtakes anything else you might be able to feel in your body. Your thighs tremble as Wonwoo stills, his rough fingers rubbing gentle circles onto your waist and ass as peers down at you, allowing your pussy to relax around him.

He’s big. He’s big and his cock is fat and the tip is already kissing your cervix yet the pain is addicting and you want—you need more. “Wonwoo,” you repeat, looking up at him with big doe eyes that have his insides churning in fondness. “More…can you give me more…please?”

Wonwoo grips your waist tightly, and you can tell he’s holding back. “Angel—”

“You said you wanted to fuck me, Wonwoo, right?” you plead needily, weakly moving your hips towards his to chase the feeling on your own. He stops you, gripping your hips so tight there’ll probably be bruises the next morning.

“So needy,” he grunts, and you think he might just get irritated with you but then he’s pulling his hips back and before you know it, his cock is ramming back into you. Back arching off the wall, your jaw goes slack and you can’t even find the voice to say a thing.

Each time Wonwoo slams back into you after a painfully slow drag of his cock, he punctuates the slap of skin against skin with a deep, guttural groan and low mutters of your name and angel, whispering broken sentences about how good you feel and how you’re squeezin’ him so good.

Your body throttles against the wall with each snap of his hips, and if you were in your right mind, you honestly would have complained about the faint pain. The thing is though, that you aren’t in you’re right mind.

You aren’t thinking clearly, and it’s because Wonwoo has successfully fucked you dumb. So dumb you can’t think, can’t speak, can’t complain, can’t think anything but Wonwoo Wonwoo Wonwoo.

“God, making a mess on my dick, huh angel?” Wonwoo coos as his thrusts become more sporadic. You’re clenching him so incredibly thigh, warm and gummy walls hugging him so incredibly tight that he thinks it’s a miracle he hasn’t cum yet.

The only noise echoing through his apartment is the squelching of juices that mixes where his cock meets your cunt, skin slapping against skin, and soft pants for hair, until finally you’re tightening your hold around him, moaning, “Wonwoo fuck—I can’t—fuck—feels too good.”

“God, fuck, I can tell, you’re so fucking tight—squeezing me like a vise,” Wonwoo moans into your ear. “Finest fucking pussy, I swear,” and the words are so filthy yet so sweet that it has your eyes rolling to the back of your head, nails digging into his back.

“Wonwoo,” you intend to cry out, but the syllables fall just short of a whisper when he pulls you down and rams his cock up into you so hard it’s punching the air out of your lungs. Bringing his hand down, Wonwoo roughly rubs at your clit as he stills himself inside of you while rocking yourself against him, twitching at all the stimulation that’s being thrown your way.

You cum, and you just know that this has been the best orgasm of your life. Pleasure hits you like a truck and you’re left almost crying, your entire body shaking against Wonwoo’s who bites down on his bottom lip so hard it nearly draws blood.

Feeling you cum around him, your wetness coating his thighs and pelvis, as you whine out his name in your moment of heightened pleasure, intimacy, vulnerability has Wonwoo’s vision going foggy and heart growing in his chest. The second he senses your orgasm has finally withered away, he’s pulling out and fervently jerking himself off as you stand limply, the only thing holding you up being the force of Wonwoo’s body pinning you to the wall.

But now, you’re both exhausted and your leg around him loosens so you fall to your knees. Your face landing right in front of his pretty tip, and you focus your hazy vision on the full length of his cock. With your position from before, you couldn’t really look at it without craning your neck at an unnatural angel but now…

Now you can see his dick up close and in all its glory while simultaneously watching Wonwoo fall apart in front of you. Bringing up a hand to help him out, you wrap it around the base of his cock and massage his balls with the other hand as you lift yourself on your knees and open your mouth wide, not once breaking eye contact.

“You’re so beautiful,” Wonwoo grunts one last time with a few sloppy flicks of his wrist and then his eyes are shut tight, eyebrows pinched together as hot white ropes paint your face. Some lands on your tongue, some on your cheek, some on your chin, and you lap up what you can as you watch Wonwoo ride out his own orgasm with a few last pumps of his cock.

When he finally opens his eyes, he’s met with the sight of you running your tongue over your lower lip to scoop up his cum, and he feels he might get hard just again by watching you. Taking a deep breath, he steps back, holding out an arm for you. Reaching up, you’re taken aback by how frail you feel when he pulls you up and you stumble into his arms, an ache beginning to take its spot in your lower body.

“Are you okay?” Wonwoo finally speaks when he hears you let out a small gasp of pain. He’s walking slowly, leading you in his arms to a room which you now recall as his bedroom. Wonwoo pushes you backwards until the back of your knees hit the bed and you fall back, the tall man flopping on top of you.

“Mhm,” you finally respond, letting him roll over or lay beside you. “A little bit sore,” you add, and you hit his bicep when you hear him trying to muffle a laugh. “Is my pain funny to you,” you grumble.

Wonwoo shakes his head, turning to face you. “Of course not,” he tells you, but the smug smile on his face doesn’t match with his words. You narrow your eyes, and he continues, “Okay. Maybe it makes me a little happy.”

“My pain makes you happy?!”

“It just means my dick game is great!” You huff, turning away, and Wonwoo laughs, spooning you from behind before saying, “Okay I’m joking. Are you in a lot of pain?” He presses kisses into your shoulder, light and feathery as he awaits your response,

“Not a lot…” you murmur, scooting your body closer to his. “Feels kinda good…” you admit, and you damn near feel him smile into your skin at that comment.

“You sure? Anything you want me to do?” Wonwoo asks sincerely. Turning over to face him you purse your lips.

“Buy me cake before dropping me off?” you suggest, before thoughtfully adding, “and extra cuddles?”

Wonwoo grins, kissing you sweetly. “Cake and cuddles it is.”

Which is how you end up getting dropped off at your house two hours later with cupcakes in your hands for Jun and Kai. Helping Kai sit down at the table to serve him the dessert, you catch Jun giving you a funny look.

“Why’re you walking like that?”

Your face burns and you avert your gaze quickly and then Jun is laughing, picking up his phone and texting someone. “Who are you texting?” you demand, walking up to him in an attempt to grab his phone. He pulls it away quickly, dangling it above your head.

“No one,” he says in a sing-song voice.

“Liar.”

“It’s just Hao.”

“What’re you telling him?!” you nearly shriek before lowering your voice, looking back at Kei who is still happily eating his cupcake.

“I’m just telling him Wonwoo’s date went well! He was curious.”

“How’d he know?!”

“I told him, of course,” Jun deadpans. You roll your eyes, pinching the bridge of your nose. “Well did I lie?”

You glare at Jun before biting the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from smiling. Because as much as you’d like to strangle Jun right now, he in fact, did not lie, and the way you giddily text Wonwoo, ‘i had fun,’ tonight when you go to bed is testament to that fact.

a/n: im sorry i had to rush the ending idk i am not super happy but .... :/ the next update might take just around the same amount of time because i have a lot going on right now, but i hope you all enjoyed what ive written so far :c please like and comment and reblog, they literally make me so happy! anyways, i hope you enjoyed and please have a nice day <3

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just-my-latest-hyperfixation · 4 months ago

Text

An exclusive deal

Written for @astrangersummer, week 12

Prompt: not-date

Rated: M

Words: 1,778 (also on AO3)

Relationship: Steve/Eddie

Tags: No UD AU; Future fic; Record label owner Eddie; Waiter Steve; Sex work; Attempted non-con (mentioned); Protective Eddie; Possessive Eddie

Notes: Previous part | Part 1

Eddie has been fantasizing about Steve Harrington for as long as he can remember.

There was nothing tender to it in the beginning. Eddie was well aware of high school hierarchies and the unspoken laws of small town life. He was a freak who listened to the wrong kind of music, who lived on the shady end of town and sold drugs from his run-down van. He’d never amount to much in life.

Steve on the other hand? Perfect, pretty King Steve with his rich parents, the big house, a different girl on each arm every weekend? That boy was destined to go far, everyone in Hawkins knew that much.

Eddie was not an idiot. He knew that there were worlds between the two of them. There was no way in hell Steve would ever be his. And so he contented himself with imagining how that soft, smooth skin would feel under his hands, how those lips would taste as he sucked and bit at them while Steve moaned into his mouth. How the muscles of those perfect thighs would shake, wrapped around his waist or slung over his shoulders as he slowly reduced the King to a whining, sobbing mess.

Eddie booked it out of Hawkins the second he finally had his diploma in hand. He never once looked back. He still thought about Steve, occasionally.

It was only after they met again, years and miles away from that wretched place and with their positions in life all but flipped that Eddie's fantasies took a different turn.

Suddenly, Steve wasn't just an unattainable pretty face floating past in the hallways, but an actual, real person. Still floating, mind you, now on roller skates while waiting tables, but a person no less. A person with a past he refused to discuss. A person with a stubborn streak for miles and a beautiful, snarky sense of humor, and a soft, vulnerable side he was desperate to protect.

And suddenly, without warning, Eddie’s feelings shifted. Suddenly, he found himself preening at each glimpse of that smile, found his chest growing warm and tingly every time Steve accepted his tip money or leftover food.

Suddenly, the very thing that had always been a distant daydream seemed possible, and suddenly, he found himself craving it with a burning urgency that startled even himself.

He wanted Steve to be his.

And now, Steve is here in his apartment, shifting on the sofa so that he can lean further into Eddie’s space.

It's everything Eddie has been thinking about for weeks. Having Steve here, in his living room, close enough to feel his body heat, close enough to touch.

Except this is not a date.

“Ow, fuck,” he hisses as Steve touches a piece of alcohol-drenched gauze to his split lip. “That hurts!”

Steve scowls at him.

“It wouldn't hurt so much if you could stop fidgeting for five seconds” he scolds, but his touch goes more gentle. “We need to clean this before it gets infected.”

“Well,” Eddie says, “Maybe I’d stop fidgeting if you were more careful.”

Steve rolls his eyes, putting two fingers to Eddie’s chin so that he can keep his head in place. “Stop being such a crybaby. I swear to God, I've babysat four-year-olds less whiny than you.”

“Yeah, well,” Eddie snarks. “I doubt the four-year-olds ever had their heads bashed in trying to protect you from some sleazy, wannabe rapist in a dark side alley, so there.”

Steve freezes.

“Shit,” Eddie says, fighting against the rapidly rising urge to punch himself again. He's probably mildly concussed already, God knows he can do without extra hits. “I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-”

“It's okay,” Steve says, but his expression has become guarded and distant again. Before Eddie can stop him, he stands, snatching the first aid kit from its place by their feet and carrying it over to the side table standing a small way off. A tense silence settles over the room while he turns his back, pretending to organize the contents, and Eddie wrecks his brain for something to say to lift the mood.

“Who was that douchebag, anyhow?” is what his mouth settles on. Steve's shoulders go rigid, and scratch that, Eddie clearly hasn't been punched enough yet.

“Dunno,” Steve mutters, just as Eddie is considering whether to bash his stupid fucking head against the sofa table or the nearest wall. “I don't ask their names, usually.”

Eddie can practically feel how the remaining color drains from his face.

“Wait, whoa,” he blurts. “Hold on a second. Their names? As in plural? What the hell, Steve?”

“Oh, for fuck's sake.” Steve slams the first aid kit shut so hard the plastic cracks, and whirls around. “Don't act so shocked. You think I'm getting by on waiting tables alone? Please! We're both grown-ass adults, don't make me spell it out for you.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Eddie screeches. His hands are shaking, he can hear his own blood in his ears, and apparently, he's gotten off the sofa at some point, because he's on his feet and Steve takes a step back as he advances on him, bumping his ass against the table. “What are you even- … You can't do that.”

Steve's eyes go hard.

“Why not?” he asks, and the aloof tone and stubborn jut to his chin remind Eddie painfully of the first time they met again at the diner. “What's it to you?”

Everything, Eddie wants to say. It's fucking everything to him, because Steve is everything, and the idea of Steve with anyone else makes his blood boil and his stomach twist.

“I just…” he stutters instead. “I don't- … I don't get it. Money's a little tight, so you thought it would be a good idea to fuck strangers in an alleyway?”

Steve flushes and sputters. It would be adorable, under any other circumstances, if Eddie could feel anything but helpless rage right now.

“I don't fuck them,” he says. “I just …”

He trails off, blush darkening by about five shades. His eyes stay glued to one of the framed band posters on Eddie’s wall as he forms a loose circle with his thumb and fingers. He does a vague, jerky up-and-down motion, once, before he lets his hand flop to his side.

“Sometimes I suck ‘em off, but only if they're nice and pay extra.”

Eddie stares at him. Maybe, if the situation was any different, he'd find it funny how Steve can't bring himself to say the word handjob, but will casually talk about sucking someone off for a bit of extra money, but right now, all he wants to do is scream. The thought of Steve on his knees in that dark, stinking side alley, of that pretty, pink mouth opening for some other guy's cock, fills his mind with dark needlepoints of red.

“Are you fucking serious?” His hands have found his hair, pulling on a fistful of curls until his scalp stings. “That's- … Shit, that's dangerous, Steve. Do you have any idea what-”

“Oh, wow!” Steve throws up his hands and laughs, but there's no joy in it. “It's dangerous? Really? Well, thank you for telling me. What would I ever do without you?”

“Well excuse the fuck out of me,” Eddie snaps, and his voice rises dangerously. “Like what, I'm not allowed to worry about you?”

“No, you're not!”

The words bounce unpleasantly off the walls of the living room. They feel like a punch to the gut, and without his conscious doing, Eddie finds himself stumbling a step backwards. Steve takes in the shock on his face and huffs.

“You're not,” he repeats, more calmly this time, and somehow it's even worse the second time around. “You don't get to- … fuck, Eddie, I dunno what you think this is, but we're not- … You're a customer. I serve you food, you pay me. You tip well, so I'm nice to you, but that's- … We are not friends. You don't get to worry about me, and you most definitely do not get to tell me what to do or not to do with my body, okay?”

Silence settles between them. Somewhere outside, the sound of sirens slices through the night.

“Okay,” Eddie says. “I'm- … okay.”

Steve nods. His breath is coming in ragged little puffs.

“Okay,” he repeats. “Good. Thanks for helping me out.”

Panic clawing at his chest, Eddie watches how he turns, picking up the bag with his roller skates from the floor. He wants to shout out, wants to tell Steve not to leave, wants to lunge and hold him back and never let him go again.

But he can’t. This is not a date. They’re not friends. Steve isn’t his, and he can't tell him what to do, can't protect him, can't do anything but pay him for his service and hope that-

“Wait.”

The word is out before the thought fully settles. Steve turns on the threshold of the living room, eyes weary and tired.

“What?”

Eddie doesn't allow himself time to pause. If he did, he'd think about what a horrible idea this is, and he doesn't have time to second-guess himself now.

“How much do you make with that little side hustle of yours?”

Steve shrugs.

“Depends? I have a couple of regulars, but-” He cuts himself off and Eddie can see how he reels himself back in, how his shoulders go rigid and his expression closes off. “Why should I tell you?”

“Because I'll double it.” Eddie means to sound bold and confident, but he nearly barrels over himself in his haste to get the words out, and his voice cracks pathetically on the last syllables. A disbelieving little smile twitches over Steve’s face.

“You'll what?”

“Double it,” Eddie repeats, more firmly this time. He finally finds the use of his feet again, bridging the distance between them with a few quick steps. Steve’s smile drops. “No, screw this, I'll triple it. You want me as a customer, I'll be your goddamn customer. On one condition.”

Steve's shoulders bump against the doorframe as Eddie steps into his space. For a second or two, Eddie thinks he's going to bolt - run right out the front door and into the darkness, maybe disappear from Eddie’s life forever. But he stays. Stays close enough for Eddie to see how his breath hitches in his throat. Close enough for Eddie to see the temptation in those gold-flecked eyes.

He knows he has won before he even says it, and it fills him with a grim, possessive satisfaction. He's probably a horrible person for it.

“I want this to be an exclusive deal.”

To be continued ...

Tag list: @p0lybl4nkk @fairytalesreality @colidamae @dissociatingdemon @steddhie

@formosusiniquis @steddiehasmywholeheart @ellaelsinore @rozzieroos

#steddie #steve x eddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #steddie fanfic #steddie brainrot #fanfiction writer #fanfiction #fanfic #my writing #a stranger summer #upside diner au

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salemrph · 1 month ago

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Beneath the Moonlit Altar (Ep. 1) Sylus x MC

Summary: Captain Jenna call out a meeting. There is new intel to the Onychinus's Leader. A picture and maybe a weak spot that the Hunter Association could use to bring him down. You find yourself at the crossroads between following your duty or following your heart to protect him.

Character: MC x Sylus

Genre: mysterious, danger, romance | Pet names : Kitten, Sweetie, Sweetheart

Warnings/Additional Tags: f!reader

| Word count: 3,379 | Reading Time: 13 min |

A/N: New in fanfic. I hope you enjoy it!

He follows you into the shower, the hot water running down your bodies as he presses you against the wall. His hands are everywhere, touching and caressing, his mouth seeking yours in a desperate, passionate kiss. He's in full devil mode now, all restraint and control abandoned in favor of pure, unbridled desire.

He bites down onto your neck, his teeth grazing over your skin in a possessive, rough way. His body is pressed against yours, pinning you against the wall as his lips find your earlobe, his breath ragged and hot against your ear. "You're mine," he growls, his voice a low, rough rumble. "And I'm going to make sure you remember that."

"Go easy... I'm still overstimulated from the first round"

He continues his assault on your neck and collarbone, his lips and teeth exploring every inch of skin within reach. His hands are caressing your hips, his fingers digging into your flesh firmly but not painfully. He's being a bit more gentle than before, but there's still a possessive, dominant edge to his touches.

We melt into another round in the bathroom. When we're finished, I collapse onto the bed, a towel wrapped around me. Sylus is getting dressed in his usual black clothes.

"Are you going somewhere?" I ask, watching him as he adjusts his outfit.

He glances over at me, his expression a mix of regret and resignation. "Yeah," he says, his voice a little strained. "I have a few things to take care of. Business stuff. I won’t be gone long, though."

"Stay safe."

He softens at your concern, a small smile curving the corner of his mouth. "Don't worry about me," he says, his voice gentler now. "I can take care of myself. Just relax and get some rest, alright? I'll be back before you know it."

You slip into your nightshirt and panties, then get up to help Sylus finish buttoning his shirt. A small, affectionate smile plays on his lips. As you finish the last button, he reaches out, gently pulling you closer to him and wrapping his arms around your waist.

He rests his chin on the top of your head, his eyes closing for a moment as he holds you close. "I hate leaving you," he murmurs, his voice low and rough. "Especially right after... that shower."

"Well, Onychinus's leader needs to show up for a few things..." you reply, trying to lighten the mood.

He sighs heavily, his arms tightening around you for a brief moment before he reluctantly pulls away. "Duty calls," he mutters, pulling his phone from his pocket and checking the caller ID.

His expression darkens slightly as he frowns at the name on the screen. "I have to take this," he says, his voice tight with irritation. "I'll be back as soon as I can, okay?" He kissed you.

Without waiting for a response, he answers the call, stepping out of the room. His voice is low and tense as he begins talking, and the door clicks shut behind him, leaving you alone in the quiet of the bedroom.

You lie back in the bed, the sheets still slightly rumpled from earlier. Despite the lingering exhaustion from his... enthusiasm, you can't help but feel a sense of warmth and contentment at the thought of being with him.

You eventually drift off to sleep, but the shrill sound of your Hunter watch jolts you awake. The clock on the nightstand reads 3:31 a.m. Sylus still isn't back.

The screen flashes with an incoming call—it’s from Hunter HQ.

"Sorry to wake you," your captain's voice crackles through the line, clear but urgent.

"What’s going on?" you murmur, rubbing sleep from your eyes, your voice still heavy with exhaustion.

Jenna’s tone is all business. "We’ve got a situation. We need you in ASAP."

You sit up in bed, instantly alert. "Got it, I’m there in 15 minutes."

"Good. Don’t waste time," the captain replies. "See you in the briefing room."

The adrenaline surges as you spring into action, quickly slipping out of your sleepwear and into your Hunter uniform. The fabric is familiar and comforting, the weight of your weapons and equipment an extension of yourself.

You grab your keys and helmet, stepping into the cold night air. The city is eerily quiet at this hour, the streets mostly deserted except for a few people drifting home from late shifts or nights out.

You reach your bike quickly. The familiar buzz of anticipation fills you as you start the engine, ready for whatever the situation calls for. The city lights blur past as you speed towards HQ, your focus sharp and clear, every muscle awake with the rush of adrenaline.

The entrance to the building looms ahead. You step off your bike, your boots making steady echoes as you cross the lobby, where the quiet hum of machinery is the only noise in the stillness.

You present your ID badge at the security desk, and the guard nods in acknowledgement before allowing you through the security gate. You move quickly through the corridor toward the briefing room, your heart pounding a little faster in anticipation of what awaits.

As you step into the briefing room, you find it already filled with your fellow hunters and the mission leader. They all look up, their expressions serious and expectant.

The mission leader, a tall, stern hunter named Ramirez, meets your gaze as you enter. "Glad you could make it. We need to get started. Take a seat."

The room settles as you join the others, and Captain Jenna stands up, preparing to address the team.

"Now that we’re all here, we can begin."

You glance around. The usual faces are present, but Xavier is noticeably absent. Nero and Tera are both here, their expressions focused as they listen intently.

Captain Jenna continues, her tone businesslike. "We've picked up some disturbing rumours circulating on the dark web about our most wanted target—the leader of Onychinus. There's been chatter about a woman who's been seen around him recently. Some threads suggest she might be his lover."

The room goes quiet as the weight of the information settles over everyone.

Your heart stops. Fuck. Have they caught us?

"We also have a picture."

A blurry image flashes on the wall. You see Sylus's profile, wearing sunglasses. And next to him—you. They only caught your back, thank God. Your face isn't visible. You're relieved you wore the outfit Sylus selected for you that day, not your usual clothes. But still... fuck.

Your body goes rigid. You're so tense, you feel like you’re suffocating. You can barely breathe. Captain Jenna’s gaze shifts toward you.

"Y/N, you spent time in the N109 Zone, and you've seen him. Can you confirm that this person is Sylus?"

The room feels like it’s closing in around you. You need to think fast. You can't show hesitation, but if you say yes, it will make everything worse. It will make you a target. Sooner or later, the truth will come out, and the consequences will follow. But if you say no... you’ll be betraying everything you’ve worked for at the Hunter Association. Your lies will unravel.

You take a deep breath, forcing your expression to stay serious, neutral.

The weight of the decision sits heavily on your chest.

You take a deep breath, trying to steady your nerves. "Yes… That could be Sylus. The picture is a bit too blurry, but I'm about 90% sure," you say, your voice steady despite the storm brewing inside you.

Captain Jenna nods, then turns her focus to the next question. "Have you seen the girl?"

You shake your head. "No. He sure as hell wouldn't share something like that with me as his hostage," you add, attempting to inject some humor into the situation.

Jenna doesn’t crack a smile. "Right… At least we have a picture of him now. That'll make things a bit easier. Nero, see if you can enhance this picture. I need a clear view."

Nero nods, already on his computer, working on the image.

"Perfect. Now, Y/N, we need you to get closer to him," Jenna says, her voice firm. "I know it’s been hard, but this could be our chance to take him down."

You nod, but your stomach twists painfully. This is bad—really bad. You never expected things would escalate this quickly. If you’re being honest with yourself, you didn’t think it would ever come to this. You wanted to keep living in the bubble of that dream with Sylus. But now… it feels like you’re being pulled into something much darker than you ever anticipated. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

The meeting continues, more tasks being handed out, but your mind is spinning. Your ears are ringing. You're barely hearing anything as the weight of the decision presses down on you. What the hell are you doing?

Tera places a hand on your shoulder, squeezing it gently. You can feel her presence next to you, a small anchor in the storm of thoughts swirling in your head.

"Are you okay?" she asks, her voice soft, yet filled with concern.

"Yes... Yes... I..." You exhale slowly, but your breath feels heavier than ever. The tightness in your chest won't release, and your mind is still racing.

"Capitan..." Tera speaks up again, her voice cutting through your thoughts. "I think Y/N needs a moment to recover."

Jenna nods, understanding the gravity of the situation. "Okay, everyone. You have your tasks. Meeting is over."

One by one, your teammates file out of the room. The door clicks shut behind them, and you're left alone with your thoughts. But then Jenna approaches you, her tone more sympathetic than usual.

"I knew this could distress you. And I'm asking a lot from you, going back to the N109 Zone. If you need anything, let me know," she says, her voice softer than you'd expect from a commanding officer.

She turns and leaves, and Tera stays by your side, her comforting presence a small reprieve in the chaos.

"It's late. Let's go home and get some rest, okay?" Tera says, worry lacing her words.

"Yeah," you respond quietly, feeling your exhaustion catch up with you.

You make your way to your bike, helmet in hand, the cold night air biting at your skin. You pull out your phone and, almost instinctively, type a message to Sylus.

They now about us.

A short message. You wait for a moment.

Meet me here. Now.

He sent you a location on the map. You didn’t waste any time. Putting your helmet on, you started your bike.

You drove for a while out of the city, heading north. On the map, there’s nothing—just a spot in the forest. The night is clear, and the moon is out. It’s 5:11 a.m.

Your mind is racing, full of anger, desperation, and anxiety. How will you fix this? Can you even fix it? Is there a solution? You shake your head, trying to forget those thoughts. Your chest aches, and the weight of responsibility crushes your body.

You leave your bike on the side road, a bit hidden, just to be sure no one followed you.

You walk the path in the dark, lit only by the moonlight.

After walking for a while in the cold night, you come across a small, old shrine. Fox statues stand guard, their hard shadows making them look more terrifying. You approach an inscription, pulling out a tiny flashlight from your side bag to read the text.

A shrine for lovers seeking protection for their love. Sylus doesn’t believe in such things. But still, this is the location he sent you.

You close your eyes and pray to the spirits of the shrine. A prayer to protect your love with Sylus, no matter the cost.

A slight crunching sound makes you draw your gun, aiming toward where the noise came from. A shadow of something black moves, and fear shoots through you as your finger hovers over the trigger. Sylus raises his hand and steps closer to you.

“Haven’t we passed this point in our relationship, sweetie?” Sylus says, his voice calm but amused.

“Fuck...! Don’t do that again,” you snap, lowering the weapon slowly and putting it back into its holster.

“I must say, your reflexes have improved,” he smiles, stepping forward to hug you.

You close your eyes, resting your head against his chest. The stillness of the forest surrounds you, but it only seems to make your body more tense.

“They know...” you finally manage to say, your voice barely above a whisper. He doesn’t respond, only holding you tighter. “Sylus…”

You look up to meet his gaze, his beautiful eyes searching yours. He gently caresses your cheek, and you try to read what’s going through his mind.

“They have a picture of us... I...” You pause, struggling to find the right words. “I had to tell them it was you in the picture.”

“Don’t worry,” he reassures you softly, his thumb tracing your skin. “Actually, I expected you’d do that. I’ve seen the picture. Luke and Kieran are taking care of it.”

You don’t want to know what they’ll do.

“Did you know this was going to happen?” The memory of the phone call before he left the penthouse lingers. “You knew, didn’t you?”

“I didn’t,” he admits, his voice quiet. “It was a possibility. I got the information too late. The person who messed up... well, they paid the price.”

“What~?” Sylus gently lifts your chin, his thumb brushing across your lips before pressing a soft, lingering kiss against them. The night air around you seems to still for a moment.

“I interrupted your wishes to the goddess of this place...” His voice is a low murmur as he takes your hand, his fingers warm against your skin, grounding you. “Were you praying for us?”

You nod slowly, the weight of everything pressing down on you.

“Do you have a plan? Because praying was my only option now. I don’t know how... I don’t even want to think about leaving you.” The words leave your lips heavy, like a stone dropped in your chest. Your heart shrinks with the weight of them.

He meets your gaze, and for a moment, the world feels suspended in time. “I have a plan…” His voice is steady, but there’s something almost uncertain in the way he squeezes your hand. “But first…”

The wind rises in the forest, carrying the scent of damp earth and fallen leaves. It tugs at your hair, making it flutter around your face. You close your eyes for a brief moment, letting the chill of the night air brush across your skin. In that second, you feel Sylus shift. When you open your eyes again, your breath catches. He’s kneeling in front of you with a firm gaze.

“Eh..?”

The soft moonlight illuminating his face, casting shadows that dance with the flicker of distant stars.

“Be my wife. Be my queen. Be my everything.”

Your heart skips, caught between disbelief and longing.

“Sylus...?”

“Answer me...” His voice is raw now, a quiet desperation threading through it, though his eyes remain locked on yours. “Look at me. Promise me you’ll be my everything. I’ll never let you down. I’ll do whatever it takes to keep you safe.”

A shiver runs through you. The cool night air seems to grow heavier, the weight of his words pressing on your chest like the weight of the world.

“I..." You stay quiet for a moment with you head spinning. You try to stay calm. This is too much, why is he doing this now?

His words echo in your mind, asking you to make a choice — a choice you weren’t prepared for. Everything about this moment feels too fragile, too final. You want to say something, anything, but your throat feels tigh. Your emotions twist like a storm.

Finally, you find your voice, though it trembles with uncertainty. “I… I don’t know how to promise that..

"Just say yes..."

Even if your mind is too clouded to make sense of it.

"Yes." The word slips from your lips, a quiet surrender, and you don’t know whether to feel relief or terror at the choice you’ve just made.

His expression softens, but only for a fleeting moment, before he kisses your hand—an almost unbearably tender touch. He rises, his presence looming over you, and for a moment, everything feels heavy with unspoken emotion. A shiver of something deep and uncertain lingers in the air between you as he presses another kiss to your forehead, lingering just a second longer than necessary. “I will leave. That’s he plan.”

You freeze. The words hit you like ice water, snapping you back to reality. "W-What...? Where? How long?!"

"I can't tell you. I need to keep you safe. Let me do this my way. I'll come back."

The weight of his words crashes into you like a wave, overwhelming and cold. Panic rises in your chest like a tidal surge, and you feel your breath catch. “NO! You ask me to be your wife, and you want to fucking disappear?! No! No! I refuse.”

His eyes flash, a storm raging beneath the surface, his jaw tightening. “This is not a negotiation, kitten.”

The words hang between you, the forest around you eerily quiet now, as if the world itself is holding its breath. The tension crackles in the air, thick and heavy, just like the silence that follows.

“I will come back to you,” he says, his hand reaching out, brushing a strand of hair from your face, the touch so gentle it almost makes your knees buckle. “But right now, I need to do this. You’re the last thing I want to leave behind, but I’ll do whatever it takes to keep you safe. Even if it means… leaving you.”

“No, wait! Y-you...” You want to scream, to shout at him, to demand answers. But something in his eyes, the rawness and sincerity behind them, makes you hesitate.

"You need to trust me on this." Sylus doesn’t make promises he can’t keep. You know him too well. He’s a master at making plans, always finding a way out—even if it’s a bit messy sometimes. Right now, this is the best option. You know it’s the only choice, even if it doesn’t feel right.

What else can you do? Following Jenna’s orders to “sneak” into the N109 Zone and “watch” your boyfriend? And then what? Coming back with a false report? The weight of lying to your team will crush you. No matter how strong you think you are, you’re not sure you can carry that.

If Sylus isn’t there—if he’s mysteriously disappeared—well, the problem is solved. But at what cost?

You pull back, forcing yourself to smile, even though your heart is breaking inside.

“Just... be careful” He pulls you into another hug, holding you close, his voice barely a whisper as he brushes his lips against your ear.

“I always am.”

He kisses you again, slow and deep, as if trying to imprint the moment in both your minds. It's a kiss you want to hold onto forever, to keep with you no matter what happens. He doesn't how much time it will take be before he comes back to you, or if everything will work out. But just as he found you once, he will do it again—no matter what.

If there is any goddess, please, please...

"I will miss you, my beloved"

"I will miss you too..."

With that, he turns and melts into the shadows of the forest, his figure blending with the darkness. You watch him disappear, the sound of his footsteps fading into the quiet of the night.

And just like that, the world feels emptier.

...protect our love.

Under the moon, standing before the altar, you begin to cry inconsolably, in a way you've never done before. Your mind prays fervently for the protection of both him and yourself. A light breeze stirs once again, and you feel as though the forest is offering its comfort. It’s as if the ancient deity of this place has heard your prayers and, for a moment, granted you its blessing.

#sylus x reader #lads #lads x reader #sylus x you #love and deepspace fic #sylus love and deepspace #sylus x mc #love and deepspace sylus #lads sylus #love and deepspace #love and deepspace x reader #loveanddeepspace

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xxsycamore · 2 months ago

Text

Afternoon Sun

╰┈➤ A needy Napoleon makes you take a break from your chores.

Napoleon Bonaparte/f!Reader • rating: E (MDNI) • tags: Gentle Sex; Kissing; Nipple Play; Cunnilingus; Oral Sex; Vaginal Sex; Creampie; Sleepy Cuddles • wordcount: 2,631 • masterlist

"Okay, Napoleon, you can get me down already! I'm not going to run away or anything! Jeez!"

Your pleas fall on deaf ears as the man carrying you in his arms simply elbows the door open and takes you inside his bedroom. It's only when he sets you down on the soft duvet of his bed that he speaks again.

"Here you go."

You pout, but true to your word, you don't run away even as the chance to do so presents itself. However, that doesn't mean you give up on questioning him so easily.

"What's this all about? Coming and declaring that you're whisking me away from my chores? Poor Sebas is left tending to laundry all alone...!"

"I think he'll manage, Nunuche. You've been running left and right all day. I just figured you need a little break."

You watch Napoleon take off his coat and put it on his desk chair's backrest, his statement matter-of-factly and hard to refute. Especially when you've been secretly waiting for the day to be over so you can find yourself in the very same place as you are right now.

Napoleon rejoins you at the foot of his bed, now down to his comfy linen shirt, and pats his lap upon taking a seat.

Not seeing a reason to refuse such a nice offer, you crawl closer to him at sit sideways on his lap, enjoying the way his toned right arm immediately wraps around your shoulders to support your position. His gaze is soft when you meet it with your own, a smile playing on his lips, yet you can't help but think that he's being a little uncharacteristically quiet.

The staring contest is short-lived because he leans in for a kiss, all too soon. This is your "aha!" moment and you hurry to voice out your discovery - but not before placing a thorough smooch on his expecting lips, because you just can't help it.

"Napoleon! Did you take me here because I needed a break or because you were feeling lonely?"

When you take another look at his face, his brow is already furrowed in a little frown, likely from the unsatisfying contact. But it only grows once he actually registers your words.

"Why can't it be both?"

You chuckle at his honesty and give his lips another peck. As if he can be content with this.

Surprisingly, he doesn't push for a longer kiss as you'd predicted, so instead you have the chance to get a little more comfortable in his arms and take a breather. He looks as if he's carefully selecting his next words, so you give him the chance to while entertaining yourself by playing with the white ends of his hair. No matter how many times you try to smooth down the little silvery tuff, it keeps curling up on its own, sticking to the side of his face. It's adorable, especially in a moment where Napoleon is trying to be serious.

"It's just... you're rather busy these days. Getting up from bed so early, later running away as soon as you wake me up. I miss spending a quiet morning with you."

You try smoothing it down again, to no avail.

"Morning, you say..."

"Okay, fine, an early noon. You know what I'm saying, Nunuche."

That's your line, normally. He shouldn't be mad at you teasing him for his choice of words when it's so much like him to do the same to you.

But you don't feel like teasing him anymore. Your gaze moves from his smooth cheek to the intense emerald eyes staring back at you, waiting to be found. You can't get enough of him when he's being like that. Upfront enough with his emotions to make a bold statement and whisk you off your feet, taking you straight to his room. But at the same time afraid of acting selfishly. He'd stare at you as if begging you to say you feel the same way.

Which, you do.

You smile sweetly at your lover.

"So you want to cuddle in bed? Is this what you're saying? Let's do that, then!"

"Nunuche-Wait-"

It takes some effort to topple over a man of his build, but catching him off-guard does the trick. Laughter bubbles on your lips as you tower over him for a moment before rolling to the side, making space for him. Who cares if you're a little bit upside down, dialogally, in bed. Cuddles come in all angles and shapes.

He drags himself up until he's wholly on the bed, tackling you down despite your playful protests. Now he's the one on top, and you're about to say something about wanting to lay on his chest instead, when he suddenly meets your lips with his.

The earlier hesitation long dissipated, you're honestly happy to see him claiming his kiss now. You're glad you communicated your enthusiasm without taking the lead from him, and you're interested in seeing him express the neediness he previously showed.

"Nnnh..."

Oh, he's really getting into it. Trying to keep up with his tempo leaves you as breathless as he is, and the lewd sounds of the kiss make your belly tighten. He sucks your tongue into his mouth, and you let him toy with you as much as he pleases, enjoying his passionate loving show through the gesture, as if you're doing it for the very first time...

"Nunuche..."

At first, you're not sure if it simply fell out of his lips in the heat of the moment or if he's actually meaning to say something, so you just put a hand on his cheek to pull him down again.

"Nunuche, we... should stop."

Hazy but concerned, you look him in the eye with expectation.

"Why?"

"Because I wanted you to rest and now... if we kiss one more time, I would just want to make love to you."

You can tell that's not the reaction he expected to receive because you watch his brows go from being tightly knit together to rising up. You figure out you're smiling in this very moment, even if you're not doing it intentionally.

"I'm...not going anywhere, Napoleon."

Your hand finds his nape as you gently nudge him to shorten the distance again. But there's room for one more whisper before your lips connect again.

"I missed you too, you know..."

Now, you're aware yours seems to be a completely different way of missing each other from the one he talked about earlier. But you're not ashamed to admit it, nor are you ashamed of raising your knee just a little so that it presses firmly against the front of his trousers.

It doesn't really distract Napoleon from kissing you again. If he wasn't doing it with intention earlier, then he surely does now, until you can't help making those small noises into the kiss anymore.

"Need you."

The two words roll off his throat a little hoarsely, and it's so easy for you to slip inside the scenario where neither of you has started your day yet. The only difference is the too many layers between your bodies presently, neither of which being the soft bedsheets. But that too will cease to matter eventually, especially with the speed at which Napoleon works your shirt undone.

Arching your spine off the mattress to let him tug it free from your red skirt, your eyes widen as Napoleon can't wait to fully get rid of the piece of clothing before attacking your chest with his agape mouth. His tongue wets your sensitive skin, letting the air cool it so you start to miss the heat of his breath again.

It takes a couple of inpatient motions but your torso is now completely bare under Napoleon's eyes. He resumes his actions, suddenly being more than precise, as he takes a pert nipple in his mouth and suckles on it.

You toss your head to the side, fingers curling up in a fist with the desire to tangle them in his dark locks instead, all too easily. It will be a little embarrassing to admit you're more worked up than him, but you can't help it when he claims your weak spots like that.

Your composure completely crumbles when he flashes you a look without breaking off his ministrations, and he looks utterly needy at that moment, like he'd be offended if you were to tell him that's enough. The shiver that goes through you builds up into a powerful throb low inside your belly and between your legs, and you already want him inside. But you don't want to rush things, not when he's giving love to every part of you like that.

It's just unfair that you don't have much to do with your own hands while he's slowly making his way down your torso, removing your skirt and your underwear with one swift movement. You want to touch him too, to pleasure him, to show him how much you want him... even if your body takes care of the last part, being more than expressive.

"Nnnh-!"

Napoleon's strong hands have to keep your legs open as he tongues at your swollen folds, the strong currents of pleasure making you instinctively close your legs. Though it seems like he doesn't mind having his head sandwiched tight, his heavy breaths fanning over your heated center. The repetitive flicks of his tongue send your whole body shivering and you hope the whimpers coming out of your kiss-swollen lips are enough of a warning, because you can't for the life of you use your words to tell Napoleon of your upcoming climax.

Judging by the way he's going even harder at it, it's safe to assume he was able to read your body language like he always does. In no time he's sending your body into ecstasy, licking you through a powerful orgasm and letting you buck against his tongue, making a mess of his face.

When he emerges from between your legs, you welcome him back into your arms and you can't not notice he's a little red in the face. It gives you a rush of embarrassment that you gladly accept, coupled with the slight tang of your own juices on his tongue as he kisses you again, not waiting to stabilize his breathing.

You wrap your arms around his neck, similar to how you previously locked him with your legs, and the sound of his metal belt buckle clanking against the prong and suggesting that it's now undone is sending signals to your brain, ones that make the throbbing inside you intensify. Even after such a good orgasm, Napoleon is able to lower your recovery time to nearly zero just by a flick of his fingers. This is how much you need him.

Of course, seeing that he loses no time nesting himself between your legs, he's no better than you. Still, you don't trust him with the task of putting his cock inside you, because he likes to tease a little too much. So your hand slides downwards, between your bodies, and does it instead.

Napoleon looks at your face as he bottoms out in you, inch by inch, he doesn't even waste the time of a blink. There's a fire in his eyes when you finally open your own to gaze back at him, and you cry out his name when he starts thrusting.

"Ahhh...Napoleon!"

"I'm here, mon amour."

Withdrawing a little, his hands find the folds of your knees, holding you open so you can receive his thrusts as he picks up his pace. You're not sure if you're happy to trade his closeness with the delicious new angle of his cock moving inside you, but the latter becomes more and more important by the second. By the time you realize the two of you are being up to no good in the middle of the day, it's too late to care about muffling your moans. They already know.

Still, Napoleon is quick to notice the hitching of your breath, and he doesn't like it when you're too shy to express how he's making you feel. So he snaps his hips inside you in a particularly deep thrust.

"Ah!"

And again.

"Say my name."

"N-Napo...leon..."

Obedient as you are, he didn't need to pry it out of you too hard, and he rewards you with a series of nice and deep thrusts that are more of a pleasant grinding sensation against your deepest parts. You cry out again, ready to tip over the edge again so soon, especially when he lets go of your knees and meets you skin to skin, a part of his weight falling over you like a blanket.

"God, you're so tight and hot around me. Are you going to come?"

You lock your legs around his torso instead of answering, nothing coherent coming out of your mouth anyway other than moans that resemble a broken "yes". You envy him for the ability to tie together whole sentences like that, wishing to feel him throb inside you with a mere word from your mouth too.

"Nggh- Napoleon!"

Or maybe you can do that just fine. His cock swells inside you as his thrusts grow erratic until he lets the strong grip of your limbs completely immobilize him, knowing that you're pulling him as close as possible and he'll get to spill inside you no matter what.

The sensation of fingernails biting into your sides feels a little rough as he grips you harder in the heat of the moment, but it only heightens the feeling when your whole body is glowing with pleasure. You're sure you're leaving little crescents across his toned arms as well.

He erupts inside you, filling you spurt after sput as you spasm around him, milking him for every last drop. You begin to feel so full of his hot come, tears well up in the corners of your eyes. A sense of belonging overcomes you, strongly, as if you can make Napoleon melt into your chest if you hold him like that just a little longer.

He doesn't seem to be letting go of you anytime soon. The little readjustments of limbs that need to be made so he lies comfortable over you are making overstimulation spark all over but it's not unwelcome at all. It makes you clench your insides and feel him remaining there, where he belongs.

"I love you."

It's how you know he feels the same way. You might be having your own way of communicating it, as he always likes to remind, but you still deem it unfair to remain quiet just because you want to be completely still.

"I love you. I love you so much, Napoleon."

Your voice is a little hoarse from how deep in your throat those moans were rolling, but you think he might like the way your words come out. His soft humming sounds happy. And sleepy.

"Napoleon."

"Let me stay inside you for a little longer. Let's turn around."

The air gets trapped in your lungs for a mere second because admittedly, his wish does things to you. But you're able to let it out in the next moment, once you've settled nicely on top of his chest. Just like you wanted in the beginning when things were far more innocent...

"Napoleon.. you'll fall asleep..."

"Mmm."

You're not sure what that means. You just know the whole thing starts to resemble awfully much those late mornings you both missed, even if now it's the afternoon sun that peaks through the curtains to rest on your naked back, like the bedsheets that are missing. Maybe you'll rest your eyes for a moment too.

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