#and even though the world turned it's back on him he's still a sweetheart

[greengoblinswifey]

Home For Christmas—Luigi Mangione x Fem!Reader

summary— your boyfriend, Luigi, recently extradited to New York, faces a court hearing just days before Christmas, leaving you heartbroken and unsure if he'll make it home. against all odds, he is granted bail and surprises you by coming home for Christmas.

warnings—none! lots of fluff, luigi is a sweetheart, perfect christmas ending <3

a/n— My dms and asks have been blowing up with you guys clamoring for more Luigi content, so I decided to whip something up, enjoy <3. I truly don’t believe Luigi is guilty and would’ve hoped he would be home for Christmas :( I hope he gets out soon and won’t be sentenced.

The courtroom doors creaked open, and your breath hitched as Luigi walked in, surrounded by officers. He wore a burgundy sweater layered over a crisp white shirt, its collar peeking at the edges. His dark curls framed his face perfectly, and even though he looked composed, you could see the faint shadows under his eyes, the toll of the weeks apart was evident.

His gaze scanned the room until it landed on you. His steps faltered briefly, and a small, almost imperceptible smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. You felt your chest tighten as he looked at you like you were the one ray of light in an otherwise dim world.

“Amore,” he mouthed, his voice soft even though you couldn’t hear it.

You couldn’t hold back your emotions. You smiled, brushing away the tears that threatened to spill over, and blew him a kiss. Luigi grinned in return, his confidence slipping back into place as though the sight of you gave him strength.

It had been weeks since you’d seen him, weeks of navigating the unbearable distance after his extradition to New York. Every call had been short, every letter cherished, but it wasn’t the same as seeing him.

When he was seated at the defendant’s table, Luigi tilted his head slightly, his dark eyes never leaving yours. “You came,” he whispered, his voice carrying an unmistakable mix of gratitude and vulnerability.

“Always,” you mouthed back.

The hearing began, the air in the room heavy as his lawyer argued for his release on bail. You knew the evidence was thin, there wasn’t enough to convict him of the CEO’s murder, but the stakes were still high. The very thought of him being sentenced, of losing him, made your heart clench.

During a brief recess, Luigi’s lawyer gestured for you to come forward. You hesitated for only a moment before making your way to the front, the officers giving you a wary glance but letting you pass.

As you approached, Luigi’s eyes softened, and he reached out slightly, his cuffed hands resting on the table. “Amore,” he said softly, his voice thick with emotion. “You have no idea how much I’ve missed you.”

Your lips trembled as you tried to hold back tears. “I missed you too, Lulu. More than anything.”

He leaned closer, his voice dropping to a near whisper. “I’m so sorry for all of this. For putting you through this. But you’ve kept me going.”

“Stop,” you said, shaking your head. “You’re coming home, Luigi. I’ve talked to your lawyer, and we’ve worked everything out. The judge is going to grant bail. You’ll be home for Christmas.”

Luigi’s eyes widened in disbelief. “Are you serious?”

You nodded, a tear slipping down your cheek. “Two days, just two more days.”

He exhaled shakily, his hands clenching into fists as he struggled to compose himself. “You’re my everything,” he murmured. “I don’t deserve you, but I swear, I’m going to make this right. I’ll make it all right.”

Before you could respond, the bailiff called for everyone to return to their seats. You reluctantly pulled away, but not before squeezing his hand one last time.

The judge’s decision came swiftly, Luigi would be released on bail, just in time for Christmas. As the words registered, you felt the weight you’d been carrying for weeks lift. Luigi turned to you, his eyes shining with relief and love.

“Looks like I’ll get to spend Christmas with my amore,” he said, his voice soft yet triumphant.

“I can’t wait,” you smiled through your tears, nodding.

When you finally got home that evening, the reality of it all hit you. Luigi was coming home in just two days. The thought alone brought tears to your eyes as you stepped into your apartment, flicking on the lights.

The soft glow of the Christmas tree filled the living room, and you froze in your tracks. Underneath the tree, there was a mountain of neatly wrapped gifts that hadn’t been there before. You blinked in confusion until you noticed a note placed delicately on the coffee table.

It was from Luigi’s lawyer.

Amore, the note read in Luigi’s familiar handwriting. I didn’t know if I’d make it home for Christmas, so I asked someone to help me make sure you were taken care of. I wanted you to have a perfect Christmas, even if I wasn’t there to share it with you. I love you.

You smiled, your heart aching with love as you knelt by the tree. The gifts were wrapped neatly, clearly not by Luigi himself and labeled with little tags in his messy handwriting. Your favorite perfume. A set of Victoria’s Secret lingerie and a cute silk pajama set. A cashmere sweater in your favorite color. A pair of designer heels you’d been eyeing for months but would never have splurged on.

Tears welled up as you unwrapped each thoughtful gift, your fingers trembling slightly. He’d thought of everything, even when he wasn’t sure he’d be here to see you open them.

Two days later, you stood at your front door, waiting as the sound of a car pulling up outside made your heart race. When the door opened, and Luigi stepped inside, you couldn’t hold yourself back.

“Lulu!” you cried, throwing yourself into his arms.

He dropped his bag instantly, wrapping his arms around you and lifting you off the ground as he buried his face in your neck. “Amore,” he murmured, “I’m home.”

You pulled back just enough to cup his face in your hands, your thumbs brushing over his sharp jawline. “I missed you so so much,” you whispered before pressing your lips to his in a deep kiss.

Luigi groaned softly, pulling you even closer until your feet barely touched the ground. His hands slipped to your waist, then lower, gripping your hips and giving your ass a squeeze. “I missed everything about you,” he murmured against your lips.

“You’re not allowed to leave me like that again,” you teased, your fingers threading through his curls.

He smirked, his eyes darkening slightly. “Trust me, amore. I have no intention of being away from you ever again.”

The night continued with kisses and lingering touches all over. You showed Luigi the gifts you’d gotten him, a rare set of books he’d been searching for, a sleek leather jacket that fit him perfectly, and an intimate surprise, a pair of silk boxers with pictures of your face all over it.

Luigi laughed when he opened them, pulling you onto his lap as he held the boxers up. “Really, amore?” he teased, his hands sliding up your thighs.

“What? I thought you’d like them,” you said innocently, though the grin tugging at your lips betrayed you.

“I love them,” he murmured, his voice dropping as he kissed your neck.

The two of you spent the night cuddled on the couch, watching Christmas movies and sharing a blanket as the tree lights twinkled softly in the background.

You turned to face him, your heart swelling at the sincerity in his eyes. “I’ll always wait for you, Luigi. You’re my home.”

Christmas morning was a quiet and cozy. The smell of hot chocolate and marshmallows filled the living room as you stretched out on the couch in your matching pajamas, wrapped in one of Luigi’s arms. His other hand rested on your knee, his thumb drawing lazy circles over the fabric.

“Good morning, amore,” he said, lips brushing against your forehead.

“Good morning,” you whispered back, pressing a kiss to his jawline. “Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas,” he replied softly, his gaze warm.

Under the tree, there were more gifts to unwrap. Luigi insisted you go first, sitting back with a grin as you tore into one of his carefully wrapped presents. It was another beautifully thoughtful gift—an engraved gold bracelet with the words Sempre il mio cuore (Always my heart).

You stared at it for a moment, your chest tightening.

“Do you like it?” he asked, his tone suddenly vulnerable.

You nodded quickly, slipping it onto your wrist before throwing your arms around his neck. “I love it, Lulu. I love you.”

He chuckled, pulling you closer and pressing a lingering kiss to your lips. “Good. Because I saw it, and I thought of you. Always my heart, amore. Always.”

You gave him a box that held an expensive perfume set he had been eyeing but never expected to have. Another had a small, vintage journal with an inscription from yourself inside the front cover, For the stories you’ll write one day.

The next gift made him grin even wider, a vintage Italian cookbook, filled with recipes you knew he loved.

“You spoil me,” he teased, leaning over to kiss you softly.

“Now I can teach you how to make the perfect lasagna,” he teased, flipping through the pages before looking up at you. “Thank you, amore. This is perfect.”

The day passed in a happy blur of laughter and kisses. You spent the afternoon in the kitchen, making Luigi’s favorite Italian dish, spaghetti alla carbonara, while he stayed close by, sneaking bites of the ingredients and kissing your cheek whenever he passed.

“You're going to burn the pasta if you keep distracting me,” you warned, laughing as he wrapped his arms around your waist from behind.

“Let it burn,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to your shoulder. “I’d rather taste you than the pasta anyway.”

“Luigi!” you protested, though you couldn’t stop the smile spreading across your face.

Dinner was perfect, and afterward, the two of you curled up on the couch with a plate of cookies you’d baked together. The promise ring on your finger glinted in the light of the tree as Luigi traced the outline of it with his thumb.

“Do you know why I got you that?” he asked suddenly, his voice quiet.

You glanced at him, your head resting on his chest. “Why?”

“Because I want you to know that no matter what happens, I’m yours. Forever,” he said, his eyes locked on yours. “Even when things got bad, when I was in a prison cell, all I thought about was you. You’re the reason I fought so hard to come home.”

Your throat tightened with emotion, and you pressed a soft kiss to his lips. “You’re my home too, Luigi.”

The night ended with the two of you wrapped up in each other, the glow of the Christmas tree casting soft shadows over the room. Luigi held you close, his hand tangled in your curls as he murmured sweet nothings in Italian.

As you drifted off to sleep in his arms, you couldn’t remember the last time you’d felt so safe, so loved.

For the first time in a long time, Christmas felt like it should, celebration of love, laughter, and the promise of a future you’d both fight for.

[darksturnz]

A LITTLE LIGHT

i hope everyone who celebrates is having a great Christmas eve! it honestly doesn’t even feel like it’s christmas tho :,) anyways here’s a sappy holiday blurb!

The sun was beginning to dip below the horizon, Star stood on her porch, the gift she’d spent hours wrapping cradled in her arms. Across the lot, Chris’s trailer glowed faintly with the light of a single window. It was beat up, like all the trailers here, but tonight it seemed more inviting than usual. Maybe it was the thought of Evelyn being home, or Lila’s enthusiasm for the holidays, but something about it pulled her in.

Evelyn had opened the door before Star even had the chance to knock.

“Hi, sweetheart!” Evelyn greeted her with a warm smile, her voice carrying the faint rasp of someone who had been through more than her share of battles. But tonight, there was a brightness in her that matched the twinkle in her eye. “Come in, come in—it’s cold out there!”

Star smiled, stepping inside and kicking off her boots at the door. The trailer smelled like cinnamon and pine, and for a moment, she felt as though she had stepped into a scene from one of those holiday movies Madison was always trying to get her to watch.

“Ma, you’re supposed to be resting,” came Chris’s voice from the kitchen. He appeared a moment later, wiping his hands on a dishtowel. His hair was slightly messy, as though he’d been running his hands through it while working. His eyes landed on Star, softening just a fraction.

“Chris, I’ve been resting for weeks, I’m not dead yet,” Evelyn shot back, already making her way to a box of ornaments sitting by the couch. She moved carefully, but there was a stubborn determination in her every step. “If I don’t help decorate this tree, who’s going to stop Lila from putting all the ornaments in one spot?”

Chris let out a small sigh but didn’t argue. Instead, he turned to Star, his expression softening even further. “Hey.”

“Hi,” Star replied, feeling a flutter in her chest she still wasn’t used to.

“Chris, help me with the lights!” Lila’s voice rang out from somewhere near the couch. The six-year-old was already untangling a mess of string lights, her curls bouncing as she pulled on the strands with the determination of someone three times her age.

Chris glanced at Star, his lips twitching into the faintest of smiles. “Guess you’re on ornament duty.”

The next hour was a flurry of activity. Lila darted around the room, her excitement infectious as she insisted on showing Star every ornament she pulled from the box.

“This one’s my favorite,” Lila said, holding up a glittery snowflake with a missing point. “I made it when I was little.”

“You were so much littler, huh?” Star teased, helping Lila hang the snowflake on a low branch where she could reach.

Chris worked silently but efficiently, stringing the lights around the tree with a practiced ease. Star couldn’t help but watch him from time to time, her heart softening at the sight of him crouching to adjust the lights at Lila’s height or standing back to admire his work with a faint nod of approval.

Evelyn refused to sit still. She was everywhere at once, hanging garlands, offering decorating tips, and reminiscing about Christmases past.

“Chris used to hate Christmas when he was Lila’s age,” Evelyn said with a laugh, hanging a wreath near the window. “He’d complain about the cold and the noise, but the second the gifts came out, he’d be the happiest kid in the world.”

“Ma,” Chris groaned, his ears turning pink.

Star bit back a laugh. “Sounds like he’s always been a little grinchy.”

“Not always,” Evelyn said, giving Chris a fond look. “He used to draw me Christmas cards every year—these beautiful little sketches of trees and snow. I still have them in a box somewhere.”

Chris looked away, busying himself with adjusting a strand of lights.

“Did he ever make you anything, Lila?” Star asked, smiling at the girl.

“He drew me a princess last christmas,” Lila said proudly. “But she had armor, ‘cause Chris said princesses don’t need saving.”

Star glanced at Chris, who was still pretending not to hear. She couldn’t help but smile.

As they worked, Evelyn turned to Star. “What about you, sweetheart? What does your family do for the holidays?”

Star hesitated, the warmth of the room suddenly feeling a little too close. She hadn’t expected the question, and for a moment, she wasn’t sure how to answer.

“My mom passed away a while ago,” she said finally, keeping her voice steady. “And my dad’s… away for the holidays. On a trip.” She tried to sound nonchalant, but the weight of the words hung in the air.

Evelyn’s face softened, her hand resting lightly on Star’s arm. “I’m sorry, honey. That must be hard.”

“It’s fine,” Star said quickly, forcing a small smile. 

For a moment, the room grew quiet, the cheerful buzz of activity paused. Then, Lila broke the silence.

“s’okay, Star,” she said brightly, tugging on her hand. “You can come over with us for Christmas!”

Star blinked, the sudden warmth in her chest catching her off guard. “Oh, I—”

“She’s right,” Evelyn said gently. “We’d love to have you.”

Lila leaned closer, cupping her hand to Star’s ear and whispering loudly, “Chris already got you a present anyway.”

“Bug.” Chris turned, his voice half-annoyed, half-embarrassed.

“What? It’s true!” Lila said, grinning innocently.

Star glanced at Chris, who was now very focused on untangling a nonexistent knot in the lights.

“Can’t wait to see what it is,” Star teased, her smile softening as Chris muttered something under his breath.

The trailer had transformed by the time they were done. The little tree sparkled with mismatched ornaments, glittering lights, and Lila’s signature touches—a cluster of candy canes in one spot and a crooked star on top. Garland draped over the windows, and a few candles flickered on the kitchen counter, their glow soft and warm.

Evelyn sat on the recliner, a satisfied smile on her face. “This is the best it’s looked in years,” she said, looking around the room. “You kids did good.”

Chris shook his head, pretending to brush off the compliment, but Star caught the faint smile tugging at his lips.

“It looks perfect,” Star said, standing beside him. Her shoulder brushed his, and he didn’t move away this time.

“Yeah,” he said softly, glancing down at her. “It does.”

Evelyn watched them with a knowing look, but for once, she didn’t say anything.

They all settled down on the couch and recliner with mugs of cocoa. Lila climbed into Star’s lap, chattering away about how she’d convinced Chris to let her pick out the tree (“He said no at first, but then I looked at him like this—” she demonstrated with wide, pleading eyes—“and he said fine!”).

Chris rolled his eyes but didn’t argue, sipping his cocoa quietly.

“I remember the year Chris tried to make eggnog” Evelyn said suddenly, her eyes sparkling with laughter.

“Ma, don’t,” Chris said, groaning.

“Oh, I’m telling this one,” Evelyn said with a grin. She turned to Star. “He was about thirteen, and he decided he wanted to make Christmas special. So, he found this recipe for eggnog—except he didn’t have half the ingredients, so he just improvised.”

“It was fine,” Chris muttered.

“It was terrible,” Evelyn corrected. “It curdled! And the kitchen smelled like spoiled milk for days. But he was so proud of it, and he made me drink an entire glass.”

Star couldn’t hold back her laugh, and even Chris, despite his embarrassment, let out a low chuckle.

“Don’t let her fool you,” Chris said, shaking his head. “She told me it was the best eggnog she’d ever had.”

“I couldn’t crush your little spirit,” Evelyn said with a mock-serious tone.

The sound of their laughter filled the room, blending with the warm glow of the lights. For a moment, Star forgot about everything else—the cold, her empty trailer, the ache of her father’s absence. Here, in this small space, surrounded by this messy, imperfect family, she felt a sense of belonging she hadn’t realized she’d been missing.

Lila’s energy finally waned, and she fell asleep curled up on the couch. Chris carried her to her room, tucking her in with the kind of care that always surprised Star. He didn’t speak, but the way he smoothed her curls and pulled the blanket up to her chin said everything.

When he returned, Evelyn was already making her way to her room.

“I think I’ll turn in too,” she said, but not before stopping to kiss Chris on the cheek. “Thank you for making this a good night.”

Chris looked embarrassed, but his smile lingered even after Evelyn turned to Star.

“You’re always welcome here, sweetheart,” Evelyn said softly, squeezing Star’s hand. “Don’t be a stranger.”

As Evelyn disappeared into her room, Star made her way to the door, Chris following behind her. She turned to say goodbye, but the words caught in her throat when Evelyn’s voice rang out from down the hall.

“Oh, would you look at that!” Evelyn said, peeking her head out of her bedroom with a cheeky grin. She pointed upward. “Mistletoe!”

Star blinked, her eyes darting to the doorway. Sure enough, there it was—a tiny, fake ornament hanging crookedly above the doorframe.

Chris groaned, his hand running through his hair. “Ma,” he muttered, his ears turning pink.

Evelyn only laughed, retreating into her room. “Goodnight, you two!”

Star turned back to Chris, her heart pounding. He looked down at her, his usual guarded expression faltering into something softer.

“Well,” Star said, trying to sound casual even as her voice wavered, “it’d be sorta rude not to follow tradition huh?”

Chris hesitated for a moment, his hand twitching at his side as though he wasn’t sure what to do. Then, slowly, he stepped closer.

The kiss was soft—gentle in a way that made Star’s chest ache. Chris’s hand came up to cup her cheek, and she leaned into him, her fingers curling in the fabric of his shirt. It was different from the first time—less tentative, more certain.

When they finally pulled apart, Chris rested his forehead against hers, his eyes half-closed. “She’s gonna give me hell for this,” he muttered, a small, crooked smile tugging at his lips.

Star laughed softly, her breath warm against his skin. “Worth it.”

Star stepped out into the cold night air, her cheeks still flushed. She made her way across the lot, the glow of Chris’s trailer fading behind her.

“Star!”

She stopped, turning just in time to see Chris jogging toward her. His breath curled in the air, and before she could ask what he was doing, he was there, pulling her close and kissing her again.

It was rougher this time—more urgent, as though he was afraid the moment might slip away. When he pulled back, his voice was low and unsteady.

“Don’t ever think you’re not part of something,” he said, his hand lingering on her waist. “Not anymore.”

Star stared at him, her heart pounding.

“Goodnight,” he said softly, his lips quirking into a faint smile before he turned and walked back to the trailer.

Star stood there for a moment, her breath visible in the cold night air. Then, with a small, dazed smile, she turned and went inside.

AUTHORS NOTE: did you catch what i did there or… ;3

TAG LIST: @jetaimevous @sturnsblunt @riasturns @ifwdominicfike @chrissturns-wife @mattsmunch @pip4444chris @ribread03 @ariestrxsh @angelic-sturniolos111 @pvssychicken @mattslolita @stvrnzcherries @dottieboo @lovergirl4gracieabrams @bluestriips @sturniolo-fann @slut4brunettes

[negansfavlucille01]

INNOCENCE Pt. 2

Negan × innocent reader (female)

Warnings: Loss of virginity, unprotected sex, oral sex (reader receiving), breast worshiping, naive reader, birds and bees talk..?

Note: So sorry it took so long, but there you have innocence pt. 2. Please don't come for me

"What's sex?"

The words echoed through his head, over and over like a haunting refrain. Fuck. How was he going to explain that to her? His chest tightened with every passing second, the weight of the impending conversation settling heavily in the pit of his stomach. He glanced up, only to be met with her big, glowing doe eyes, staring at him with an innocence that made him want to crawl out of his skin. She was waiting for an answer, patiently, like she always did, her face full of trust. He swallowed hard, throat dry. He knew there was nothing wrong with her asking. She was curious, that's all. It was just a question, one born out of innocence and the need to understand the world better. She had a right to ask. It’s just education, he told himself. He was right, logically speaking. Yet, logic didn’t seem to matter now, not when her gaze was so pure, so unknowing of the complicated mess his mind had turned into. His hands twitched at his sides, a nervous energy he couldn’t shake. He couldn’t even look her in the eyes for more than a few seconds without feeling like he’d betray something. How could he explain this to her without shattering that trust? Without taking away that wide-eyed innocence she carried so effortlessly? She was just asking for an answer, expecting him to have one, like he always did. But this? This was different. He wasn’t ready. His mind scrambled for the right words, but every potential response felt like it would somehow break something delicate between them. It was just a question. Why was it so hard? He bit the inside of his cheek, stalling, trying to compose himself. Still, her eyes bore into him, soft and patient, waiting. Double fuck.

''Sex?'' He asked, even though he heard her crystal clear. Maybe he was buying time, hoping the repetition would dull the impact of the question, or that maybe, just maybe, she'd change her mind and ask something else. he gave him a small nod, her expression unchanged, blinking once with that same quiet patience. ''Sex is a private thing that grown-ups do with each other to feel good together and express their love. Sometimes.''

"Have you ever done it?'' She asked.

"Oh, yeah. Have you?" Y/N shook her head. Then an idea came to his mind. He had a chance. He gets to be her first. His nervous face turned into that nasty, shit-eating grin. "No..? Wanna learn?'' She nodded again. Negan didn't really expect it to work. But typical Y/N, always wanting to learn new things. He never thought he'll be here. In his room, awake in five am to talk with Y/N about sex. "Lay down, sweetheart.''

Y/N blinked, a little unsure, but something about Negan's confidence made her follow his instruction. She laid back on the bed, her heart thudding in her chest. There was a tension in the room, heavy and charged, but it wasn’t just awkward—it was curiosity and trust, too.

Negan sat on the edge of the bed, his gaze dropping to meet hers. That smirk softened, just a little, his voice lowering as he leaned closer. “Alright, darlin’.” he murmured, his tone almost teasing. “Let’s take it slow, yeah? No rush. You comfortable?”

Y/N gave a small nod, her cheeks flushed but her eyes steady on his. “Yeah.” she said softly.

Negan chuckled, the sound warm and low, and he reached out to brush a strand of hair away from her face. “Good girl. First lesson... it's all about trust. You trust me?” Another nod. This time, her lips curved into the faintest smile. “Good.” he said, letting his grin grow wider again. “Because I’m gonna teach you everything, sweetheart. And you’re gonna love it. But you tell me if you’re not ready, got it?”

“Got it.” she whispered, her voice steady but quiet.

He kissed her. Not the rough, hurried kisses he usually gave to women, as though they were part of some transaction or fleeting distraction. No, this was different. His lips moved with an unexpected tenderness, brushing hers like a question rather than a demand. She, unsure of how to respond, stood frozen for a moment, the world narrowing to the warmth of his touch and the steady rhythm of his breathing. Slowly, almost hesitantly, her hands found their way to his hair. The softness surprised her, and she tugged at it gently, testing, grounding herself in this strange new reality.

"Is this okay?" he asked, his voice a low whisper, thick with an emotion she couldn’t quite name.

She swallowed hard, her hands still tangled in his hair. "I... I don’t know." she admitted honestly, her cheeks flushing. "But I think I don’t want you to stop."

They continued kissing on the bed, the scary, horrible world outside fading into a distant blur. Y/N's hands tangled in Negan's dark hair, pulling him closer as their lips moved together with an urgency that made her head spin. His touch was firm but teasing, his fingers brushing against her waist before trailing lower, leaving a trail of warmth in their wake. Every kiss deepened their connection, the space between them shrinking until there was nothing left but skin against skin and the heat building between them.

Negan’s lips left hers, traveling down her jaw and neck, igniting sparks wherever they landed. A soft gasp escaped her as his hands slipped beneath her shirt, his rough palms grazing the sensitive skin of her sides, and she arched instinctively into his touch. He chuckled low, the sound vibrating against her collarbone as he nipped at her skin, his confidence only spurring her desire further.

One piece of clothing after another was shed, each discarded without a second thought. The tension that had been simmering between them finally boiled over, and before either of them could fully process how far things had escalated, Y/N found herself naked beneath him. Her chest rose and fell rapidly, her cheeks flushed as she met Negan’s heated gaze.

He hovered between her thighs, his strong hands gripping her hips as if grounding himself, his smirk softer now but still carrying that signature cocky edge. His eyes roamed over her body appreciatively, his voice low and gravelly when he finally spoke. “Damn, sweetheart,” he drawled, his tone laced with desire. “You’re even more gorgeous than I imagined.”

"Negan…" Her voice was soft, barely more than a whisper, trembling with a mix of nerves and anticipation. She looked down at him, her heart racing as she watched him. His touch, his presence, everything about this moment was overwhelming in a way she hadn’t expected. Without a word, he reached up, taking one of her hands that had been tangled in his hair. His fingers wrapped around hers, firm but reassuring, before he gently intertwined them. The warmth of his touch steadied her, his thumb brushing over her knuckles in a soothing rhythm.

“It’s okay,” he murmured, his voice low and gentle, a stark contrast to its usual gravelly bravado. His dark eyes held hers, grounding her as his thumb continued its calming motion. “I’ve got you. Just… trust me.”

Her breathing steadied as she gave a small, tentative nod, the corners of his mouth lifting ever so slightly in response. Negan leaned up just enough to brush a soft kiss against her knuckles, the gesture both disarming and deeply intimate.

“Atta girl.” he whispered, his voice carrying the barest hint of a grin now. “We’re in no rush. Just you and me, okay?” He slowly rubbed her clit, his touch barely there. A loud moan left her mouth, her head throwing back. He slowly buried his face in her heat, groaning as he felt the wetness on his beard. Moving his hand to her thigh, the other remaining on her clit, going harder. Her face was flushed. Bright red, eyes struggling to stay open, mouth agape. Negan pushed his tongue in her, curling it just right.

"Negan.. I feel.. funny.." she whined, popping herself on her elbows so she could see him. At that moment, everything went black and she fell back, eyes squeezing shut, hands gripping the sheet as she reached her climax. Negan, proud of himself, crawled up to her, chuckling.

"You ready for the real thing?" He removed his remaining boxers, his cock slapping against his, long, thick and already dripping pre-cum. He gently pushed the tip in, the most erotic and needy moan ripping from Y/N's mouth. Slowly and painfully, he eased it all the way in, letting her get used to the stretch. "God damn me. Fuck! That pussy, baby... So tight and fuckin' soaked!"

"Negan, it hurts..." She whined, gripping his shoulder hard enough to dig her nails in and make little cuts. He started thrusting, slowly and gently at first, slowly going faster when he was sure she could handle it. Eventually, his thrust became in a pace so fast, it was against physics.

"I know, I know.." He chuckled, but that was cut off by a low guttural groan deep in his chest. His hands started playing with her tits, squeezing the soft flesh and rolling the nipples. He leaned down, taking one into his mouth, sucking so hard, she threw her head back and her eyes rolled into the back of her head. She was a whiny little mess in his arms, the force of him pounding her sweet little cunt and sucking on her breast at the same time too much for her. He lifted his head, looking at her with hooded eyes, filled with lust and desire, watching how beautiful she looked when he ruined her. That dark chuckle of his came to life again. "Damn.. into big cocks from the first time?"

"N... Negan, I can't.." Her moans got louder. The only response she got from the man on top of her was a dark chuckle. The room was dimly lit and filled with sex sounds and scent. She closed her eyes shut, hard, clenching her little cunt around his thick length, signaling she was close yet again.

"Oh, fuck.. Do that again." He threw his head back, a little moan escaping his throat. She obeyed, mimicking the motion she did a second ago. Negan's thrust got harder as he neared his peak. He rubbed her clit and that was enough to send her over the edge. She gripped the sheets next to her with both hands, biting her lip, throwing her head back. Negan watched. He found it cute and sexy at the same time, how he had just ruined her. In his mind, that first time couldn't have gone better. One. Two. Three thrusts and he pulled out, stroking his twitching cock. White ropes of cum shot on her stomach and her breasts, covering her in his hot seed.

[xhyjin]

husband gojo! who turns into “the neediest” after a long day of being “the strongest” the moment he walks through the door. his blindfold or glasses are tossed aside because, to him, you’re no sight for sore eyes; he wants nothing obstructing his view of you. he’s immediately all over you, clinging to you like a lifeline. and when you groan, “toru, i need my personal space,” he only grins and murmurs, “i need your personal space too, baby,” before wrapping his long legs around you, nearly making you stumble and fall with him still stubbornly attached, laughing like it’s the best part of his day. (it is)

husband gojo! who, ever since you baked him a birthday cake once, fell head over heels for your baking. now, it’s a tradition; he refuses to have a birthday cake unless it’s made and decorated by you. this extends to his sweet tooth cravings too; whenever he comes across random dessert recipes on his phone, he immediately sends them your way with an innocent “doesn’t this look good?” even if you’ve never seen or heard of the dessert before. he’ll hover around the kitchen, sneaking peeks and stealing tastes, grinning like a kid because there’s nothing sweeter to him than something made by your hands.

husband gojo! who absolutely loves when you spend his money. it takes you a while to get comfortable using it because you feel bad, but he always reassures you with a grin, “my money is your money, sweetheart. it’s all gonna be spent on you anyway.” he gets genuinely excited when you come home from a shopping trip or when packages arrive at the door, practically glowing with pride. seeing you spoiled and happy makes him feel like he’s doing something right. his favorite part, though, is when you give him a haul, showing off everything you bought and trying on all your new clothes just for him. he’ll sit back, arms crossed with the biggest smirk on his face, and say, “damn, I knew my money looked good on you.”

husband gojo! who is so, so, so protective of you that sometimes he just wants to keep you home, away from the outside world, where nothing can touch you. he’s spent his whole life as nothing but a weapon for jujutsu society, and all he wants now is to keep you safe, to shield you from everything. when you’re out together, his arm is always wrapped securely around your waist or draped over your shoulder, a silent reminder to everyone that you’re his to protect. dates are rarely in public—he prefers private, intimate places or the comfort of home, where he knows you’re safe in his arms. he’ll even insist on teaching you self-defense, but the lesson always ends the same: him pinning you down, a smirk on his face as he attacks you with kisses, murmuring, “looks like you’re still defenseless against me.”

husband gojo! who quite literally steals your entire personality. the moment you say a new phrase or pick up a habit, he’s quick to latch onto it, memorizing it like it’s second nature. by the next day, he’s already using it effortlessly, as if it’s always been part of his vocabulary. when you catch him doing it, he just shrugs with a small grin, “what can I say? you’re my favorite person—I can’t help it.” he admires you so much that your quirks and habits naturally become his own.

husband gojo! who sometimes tries to scare you in the mornings by hovering over you, his face so close that the first thing you see when you open your eyes are his deep blue eyes staring wide into yours. it always makes you jolt awake, your hands flailing as you instinctively poke or smack him in surprise. he’ll laugh, completely unfazed, pulling back just enough to grin down at you with a playful, “good morning, sleepyhead. miss me?” even when you scold him for nearly giving you a heart attack, he just chuckles, pressing a kiss to your forehead like it’s the most natural way to start his day.

husband gojo! who, just like he steals your personality, also steals your scent and fashion. if you have a favorite perfume, he’s either hunting down the “manly” version of it or shamelessly spritzing yours when you’re not looking. and when it comes to clothes, he’ll buy the exact same pieces you own—just a few sizes bigger so they suit him. it’s not even subtle; he’ll walk out wearing a sweater that’s just like yours, grinning proudly when you notice. “what? we match. it’s cute,” he says, completely unapologetic, because to him, there’s nothing better than being a reflection of the person he loves most.

husband gojo! who’ll dye a small streak of his snow-white hair your favorite color just to surprise you. he keeps it subtle and tucked away, hidden so well that no one else would even notice unless they were running their fingers through his hair—and no one gets that close but you. sometimes he changes it when your favorite color shifts, always paying attention to the little details that make you smile. when you do find it, gently brushing his hair aside, he grins at you softly and says, “figured I’d keep a piece of you with me.”

husband gojo! who genuinely tries his best to make time for you, despite how often he gets called away for missions. sometimes days pass without him seeing you, and the distance wears on him more than he'd ever admit. when he finally comes home, the moment he sees you, he's on his knees, pressing kisses to every inch of your body, mumbling softly between each one about how much he missed you. "missed you so much, baby... couldn't stop thinking about you," he whispers against your skin, his voice laced with exhaustion and love. it's in moments like these-when he's been deprived of your warmth and attention-that he starts to second-guess being a jujutsu sorcerer at all. because no mission, no battle, could ever compare to being with you.

husband gojo! who drops everything the second he steps through the door after a grueling three-day mission, exhaustion forgotten the moment he sees you standing there, holding out a small gift box. confusion turns to shock as he opens it, and inside, a positive pregnancy test. for a moment, the world stops; his heart races, his breath catches, and then it hits him: he has a family now.

husband gojo! who doesn’t even hesitate. right then and there, he decides he can’t be both a sorcerer and a father. he refuses to miss a single pregnancy milestone, a single moment with you or his child, because of his work. the next day, he quits. the elders, the Gojo clan, they can pester him, manipulate him, lecture him about “duty” and “protecting the country,” but he won’t budge. “It’s my duty to protect my family,” he’ll say firmly, his hand resting on your growing belly. no one will take him away from you and the life you’re building together.

[itneverendshere]

LOVED YOU AT YOUR WORST - r.c series - SIX

pairings: ex!sweethearts; rafe x thornton!reader; rafe x sofia. chapter warnings: mention of pregnancy; abortion; lack of self-care; drug and alcohol addiction;

Rafe had been clean for the past three years.

Over the course of the year, things between him and you had been smooth sailing. 

It was almost easy, something he wouldn’t have believed a few years back when everything he touched seemed to go up in flames. There’d been a time when he was just too much—angry, impulsive, doing all the wrong things for all the wrong reasons.

He’d been selfish, reckless, it was intense, way too intense, and when you fought, it was like you were both throwing grenades, just waiting to see who’d blow up first. You’d pushed him away, he’d pushed you harder, and you’d both crossed lines that should’ve never even been close.

Eventually, both of you learned to talk instead of shouting, learned when to back down instead of pushing buttons just to get a reaction. You’d gotten better at letting each other breathe. He’d pull back when he felt himself getting heated, and you’d do the same.

It wasn’t perfect; sometimes you’d still get into it, still end up in an argument that felt like old times, but it was different. There were no more lines on the bathroom counter, no disappearing at all hours. 

Until Ward died. 

Rafe didn’t know what the fuck to feel when he got the news. He knew what he was supposed to feel, right? He’d done it before with his mom, now it was his dad’s turn. The man who had raised him, the one to teach him everything he knew about how the world worked, even if it wasn’t pretty. 

Ward was a hard man, a strong man. The kind of guy who commanded respect, even if he didn’t always show it the way others might expect. But that’s the thing, he was a man of respect. 

To Rafe, that meant something. Everything. 

Ward had shaped him, he couldn’t just forget that, couldn’t act like that wasn’t important.

At first, you were there for him, no question. 

He knew you hated Ward, you barely tolerated the thought of him even existing in the same room as you. You spent those first few weeks with him, making sure he didn’t spiral back into the shit that nearly destroyed him. He needed the support, even if he didn’t always know how to ask for it.

You were there, holding it down. You got through it, the late-night talk, but then, you started getting distant.

At first, it was subtle—small things. He’d catch you looking at him like you didn’t quite get him anymore. You’d pull away when he needed you to listen, when he was ranting about Ward, and even though you tried to hide it, Rafe could see the dissociation.

He pretended he didn’t sense it, tried to tell himself you’d come around. 

After all, this was his grief, and no one else was going to understand it the way he did. His dad had been everything to him—maybe not in the way you thought he should’ve been, but that was just the reality of it.

For the first time in years, it felt like you weren’t there with him. It didn’t make sense to him how you couldn’t see it. 

Ward had been a tough guy, sure, cruel sometimes, but he was also a provider, a father who tried to teach him how to survive, even if it didn’t always come wrapped in the right way.

He wasn’t perfect, but he was the only father Rafe had ever known. He was gone all of a sudden and that was what had hurt the most—knowing he’d never get the approval he’d always been chasing, even when he was clean, even when he was doing better. There was no fixing that. 

He wanted to mourn in peace, but no one seemed to understand why Ward still mattered to him, not even Sarah.

Three weeks after the funeral he spent his days surrounded by a few bottles of scotch he’d stolen right out of his dad’s stash. Who was gonna stop him now, anyway? He almost laughed. Three years clean. Shit, that was something, wasn’t it?

He’d had people telling him he wouldn’t make it three weeks, let alone three years. Shit, his dad sure didn’t think he’d get this far. Only you.

Rafe squinted at the amber liquid swirling in his glass, then leaned back in the worn leather of his dad’s old armchair. It felt weird being in here, in his chair, in his office, breathing in that persistent smell of old cigars and varnish.

After the whole “funeral”, with everyone looking at him like he was a wild animal about to snap, this was the only place he could sit without someone judging him.

If you’re so clean, why are you drinking yourself half to death? He took a slow sip, letting it burn down his throat. 

It wasn’t like it used to be, that high that hit fast and hard, and didn’t care if it broke him apart.

This was different, a slower, quieter process.

Besides, he was in control this time. Just a drink, he told himself, fingers tightening around the glass. No powder, no pills. That was progress.

So what if he had to take the edge off? Who wouldn’t, if they’d just said goodbye to their only living parent and had to look at their younger sisters crying like that? 

He was practically swimming in alcohol. Rafe knew he was overdoing it, but he didn’t care.

Every time he saw himself— on a window, mirror, whatever—he had a drink in his hand, and something about it just felt terrifyingly right.

Grounded.

Nobody understood him; they just kept looking at him with that worried face, like he was on the verge of losing it like he used to when he was younger. Maybe he already had.

You watched him—really watched him—and yeah, he could tell you were pissed. He saw it in that little wrinkle between your eyebrows every time he took another sip. But you didn’t say anything. 

Even Wheezie was on his case in her quiet way.

She was hanging around, throwing out old jokes and trying to make him smile, but he barely reacted. She was looking at him like she was scared, as if he was some stranger she was trying not to set off. And he hated that—God, he fucking hated it. So he kept his distance, hoped she would back off, let him get through this his way.

But then came that night at the beach bonfire, when everything changed.

He probably shouldn’t have gone, but he needed to get out and feel normal again—even if that just implied showing up and pretending, he was fine. He dragged you along, flashing that cocky grin you could see right through, but you followed anyway, probably just to keep an eye on him. He could feel it—the way you were watching him, worried as hell, that just made him want another drink.

Half the people were staring, too. Waiting to see if he was gonna go off, if he was back to the same volatile Rafe he used to be, the one they loved watching spin out. And just when he thought he could ignore it, some random pogue, scruffy, half-drunk, threw out a comment loud enough for the whole group around him to hear.

“Guess Ward Cameron finally found some gold he couldn’t buy his way out of, huh? What was he thinking, running off to some country where people don’t just take bribes? Practically killed himself.”

It took everything in him not to lunge right there, but he was too plastered to keep the anger off his face. He pushed his way over to the guy, hands clenched into fists.

“You got something you want to say to my fuckin’ face?”

The guy shrugged, muttering something under his breath, people were looking now, everyone watching to see if he was finally going to give them a show.

Before he knew what he was doing, he was shoving him back, hard enough that the dude stumbled, beer splashing out of his cup. The crowd around them stirred, murmurs, but nobody did a thing—they were just staring, waiting to see the blood spill. He felt tempted to hurt someone, felt that cameron fury crawling up his throat.

It didn’t matter that he was twice as drunk as he should be; all that mattered was the way his father’s name was rolling off this nobody’s lips.

He felt you grab his arm, long nails digging hard enough to pull him back, he jerked his shoulder, trying to shake you off, but you weren’t letting go.

“You’re gonna waste your time on him?”

Rafe gritted his teeth, but you didn’t give him a chance to argue. You hauled him back, forcing him away from the guy, who was still standing there with that smug look plastered on his face. 

“Get out. Now,” you urged him, voice calm but with the tone that even he didn’t want to test. He glared at you, mouth opening to argue, but you didn’t let him get a word in. “Rafe. Now.”

You were mad at him.

It was enough to knock some sense into him, and he let you reel him away, but not before you turned back.

“And you,” you called out, enough to silence the chatter around you. “Keep your fuckin’ mouth shut.” 

There was no bluff, no hesitation, and Rafe watched as the pogue’s smug expression dropped instantly, eyes widening as he realized you were dead serious, your family’s name always had an impact around town, old money and all.

As you dragged him to the car, he muttered that he didn’t need you playing bodyguard, but you ignored it, taking him out of the spotlight he hated but couldn’t seem to avoid.

His head was spinning, his blood boiling, and he couldn’t even look at you, not with how angry he felt.

By the time you pulled up to his house, you got out, guiding him inside with that hard, that silent determination he both hated and admired in you. 

You were there, right behind him with that look on your face—angry, disappointed, like he was missing something big, as if he was the one who didn’t get it.

He stumbled into the bathroom, holding himself against the sink, and before he could even catch his breath, you turned on the faucet and splashed cold water in his face. He jerked back, sputtering, wiping it with the back of his hand. When he looked at you, his anger burned again.

“What the fuck is your problem?” he snapped.

“My problem?” you scoffed head already shaking, “Are you serious?”

“You don’t get it,” he growled, barely controlling the rage, the shame—everything. “You don’t know a fuckin’ thing about him. I had the right to defend him.”

You took a step forward, finger pointed at your chest, “Don’t I? Because I remember standing in this very house, watching him tear you down every chance he got. You’re so busy mourning this man who treated you like shit, that you’re pushing the people who care about you away. It’s not just me. It’s everyone.”

Rafe laughed bitterly, the sound humorless. “Oh, here we go,” he muttered, rolling his eyes as he turned back to the sink, gripping the edge hard enough to make his knuckles turn white.

“Don’t you dare roll your fucking eyes at me,” you retaliated, stepping up beside him. “I stood by you through all of it, I’m not gonna stand here and watch you kill yourself because of him. He’s the reason you felt like you had to be so perfect all the time, why you’re always trying to prove yourself to people who don’t deserve it. And now he’s gone, and you still can’t see it. You’re still trying to be good enough for him!”

He didn’t look at you, didn’t want to see the indignation—or worse, the pity—in your eyes.

“Just stop,” he muttered, but you were past listening.

“No, I won’t stop. I can’t. I can’t keep watching you do this to yourself again. You’re better than this.”

He suddenly pushed himself away from the sink, and turned to face you, his blue eyes practically black with a hurt that was older and deeper than either of you could touch.

“You don’t get to stand there and tell me what I deserve.”

“I know what you deserve.” 

He scoffed, rolling his eyes again, though his face had gone a shade paler. “You think you know everything, don’t you?” he sneered. “Think you know what’s best for me? Get off your high horse.”

“You’re damn fucking right I know better than you do, I’m not the one who’s drowning every night in some pathetic tribute to a man who wouldn’t piss on you if you were on fire.”

He could feel it now, the bitterness you’d been hiding for weeks. It wasn’t just about him drinking himself stupid. It was everything—every fucking thing you’d been ignoring, it had festered between you two while you pretended things were okay.

“You’re the one who’s just tired of me, of everything that comes with me.”

You took a step back, eyes narrowing, but you didn’t flinch.

“What?” Your rage momentarily dialed down, the sound gurgling, “You think I’m tired of you? I’ve been here this whole time, trying to make you see the truth, but you won’t even look at me. You won’t let me in. You’re too fucking blind to notice.”

His breath was shaky, too fast, but he didn’t care. “So now I’m blind, huh? I didn’t see you sneaking out the door when I needed you? I didn’t notice how you pulled back, how you stopped giving a fuck about me? You’re just waiting for me to give you an excuse to leave.”

You opened your mouth to argue, but he wasn’t done.

“You don’t get it! I didn’t need you to fix me, I needed someone to stay. But instead, you—" His voice cracked, the anger choking him up, "Instead, you started to make me feel like I was a b-burden. Some mess you had to clean up. How am I supposed to deal with that, huh?"

You were shaking your head, your eyes had already been filled with tears, your chest suffocating.

“I’ve been here. I’ve been standing right next to you, waiting for you to pull your shit together. I didn’t walk away. You did.

His stomach churned, as if you’d taken every inch of space in his chest and twisted it, just for fun. The worst part was, he couldn’t even argue with you. Not really. He had been so wrapped up in his own shit, so obsessed with keeping everyone out, that he hadn’t even seen how far you’d already gone.

“Don’t. Don’t you dare try to make this about me,” he spat, the words ugly in his mouth, it felt like they were scraping their way out of him. “You don’t get to make me the villain in your story just because you’re tired of playing my fucking hero.”

“I’m not trying to play the hero!” you screamed, stepping closer, your eyes were cold. “I’m trying to help you see that you have to fix this. Not me. Not anyone else. But you. And if you’re so fucking broken you can’t see that, then maybe you really don’t need me.”

The silence that followed was thick, suffocating. Rafe could feel his heart racing, that agonizing coil in his chest, but he couldn’t stop.

“Maybe you’re right,” he said, voice quieter, but just as venomous.

He turned his back on you, walking to the door. The sound of his boots clamped against the wood floor like a countdown.

“Maybe I don’t. Grab your shit and go.”

"Don’t you fucking—" you snarled, but he was already moving, grabbing your jacket off the hook by the door and throwing it your way, “You know what? Fine. Maybe I will.” You shoved that stupid thing on, hands shaking as you yanked the zipper up. “Don’t come running back in two days like you always do. Don’t come crawling back.”

Rafe paused, hand on the doorknob, his jaw clenched so hard you could see the muscle ticking.

He didn’t turn around, didn’t look back at you.

“I don’t need you to feel sorry for me.”

“Good. Because I stopped feeling sorry for you a long time ago,” you replied sharply, every syllable punctuated with weeks of resentment. “What I feel now? That’s just disappointment.”

You watched his shoulders lock up; his whole body wound so tight it was like he was one wrong look away from completely losing it. He didn’t turn around either, even as you slipped out the door, but he knew.

That was it.

Two moths later, almost three, he was standing in front of the ER pacing like a complete fucking idiot after you passed out in his arms earlier.

He’d told himself he’d stay away, make it easy for both of you. 

That shitty plan had gone down the drain once he saw you speed away at that party with absolutely no regard for your safety or Topper’s. He’d seen that wild look in your eyes before—the one that said you were about to burn it all down. Or when your dad’s gala came around, and he couldn’t sleep properly knowing he wasn’t going to be there that year, knowing how you spiraled every time you had to step on that stage.

He had stupidly thought that maybe, one day, you two could still be friends. But today? That shit blew up in his face, for the second time in the span of a week.

He forgot what you could invoke in him when you were standing merely an inch away. He promised himself that he’d moved on, forced to consider that the love of his life might not be someone he could spend his lifetime with. Maybe you weren’t meant for each other.

But how the fuck was he supposed to act when the girl who had been everything to him was hurting? 

No, no, no.

Sofia was what he needed.

Someone who didn’t know shit about his past, who didn’t ask questions he didn’t want to answer. She hadn’t seen him the way you had, hadn’t been there through every drunken rant and punch he’d thrown at the wall or someone’s face, hadn’t heard him rail against his dad or drag himself back from one of his darkest nights. 

She hadn’t called him a fucking idiot when he chose to throw his father’s ashes on the ocean. She wasn’t going to call him a coward for it. She didn’t have a clue about any of it, and that was supposed to be what he wanted.

He looked up at the ER doors for the millionth time in the past hour, his fingers clenched around his jeep keys so tight they left marks on his hand.

It was over between you two. He’d make sure to keep the fucking distance, two whole months. If he didn’t give you enough closure, you’d hate him faster and you’d both get over it. 

So why the fuck was he about to set the whole hospital on fire as he watched John B’s beat up twinkie pull up to the parking area? It shouldn’t have surprised him, but it did. 

Of course you’d call her, his own sister—his father's favorite.

Sarah had always been the golden child, Ward’s little angel who could do no wrong, while he was the family screw-up. Even now, you’d picked her, just like Ward would have. 

He didn’t think before he moved, closing the distance between him them in seconds. 

“What the fuck are you doing here?” He barked right up in her face, daring her to explain herself.

Sarah didn’t back down, though. She just looked up at him with that same cool, level expression she always had whenever he tried to get a rise out of her. 

“I’m here because she called me.”

“She called you?” He scoffed, eyebrows pulling together in disbelief. “You? She called you?” He took a step closer, “So what, you’re her savior now or some shit? Why the hell would she call you if I’m right here?” His eyes narrowed, searching her face like he couldn’t believe it. “Are you kidding me?”

Sarah threw her hands up, a look of pure exasperation on her face.

“Are you dense, Rafe? You’re with someone else! Why would she want the guy who broke her heart to drive her home?”

He blinked, thrown off. “I broke her heart? She broke mine!” He laughed, but it was harsh, bitter. “I did us a favor. We were just—”

“Oh, right. A favor?” Sarah cut in, voice dripping with sarcasm. “That why you’re pacing out here like a goddamn lunatic?”

“Go away. I’m driving her home.”

She stepped closer, her voice steely as she looked him dead in the eye.

“No. She called me, she wants me here. Not you. So do yourself a real favor and go home before you do something even more stupid.”

A breathless chuckle escaped his lips, “She already hates me, Sarah. What’s the fucking harm, huh?” He threw his arms out, as if daring her to come up with an answer that would hurt less. “What’s one more screw-up on top of everything else?”

“You’re real dumb if you believe that. But if you wanna make it worse, then by all means, go ahead. You’ll just prove her right.”

He stayed rooted in place, chest heaving, the conflict ripping him to pieces. His hands shook, his throat tight with words he couldn’t even begin to understand.

But Sarah had already turned her back on him, heading toward the entrance.

“Walk away,” she warned him, looking over her shoulder, “That’s the only thing left for you to do right now.”

Rafe didn’t know why the fuck he listened to her.

It was as if his body had already made that decision for him, understanding that if he didn’t leave right then, he’d end up doing something stupid—something even more fucked up than what he’d already done. His tongue was locked in place, a curse on the tip of his pursed lips, but it never came. 

His feet wouldn’t move, his hands stayed at his sides, and that tightness in his throat wouldn’t let him get a single word out, not one that would make any fucking sense. He hated that. Hated that you still had this kind of control over him.

Hated that he just…felt like something was wrong.

You hadn’t been this frantic, so impulsive since he had to take you home after your sister passed. He didn’t want to remember that night—you damn near threw yourself out of his truck.

But he couldn’t ignore the memory, the desperation on your face, the screams, the fight in his grip as he pulled you by your shirt back inside.

He’d felt like he was holding on to something breaking apart in his hands, something he couldn’t fix but couldn’t let go of either. He’d seen it again in your eyes when he’d caught you earlier at the beach clean-up, the way you’d tried to dodge his stare, voice cracking, legs wobbling when he mentioned the hospital. 

Rafe still felt like he’d swallowed shattered pieces of glass every time he thought about you. And if he could just push it down, if he could just get through one fucking day without looking back, maybe he’d start to forget you.

His feet were glued to the hospital pavement, his heartbeat thundering in his ears. If you were about to crash, if this was anything like before…He didn’t know what the fuck he was going to do.

He had no reason to stay, you’d made it clear as day. He was supposed to be gone—out of your life for good. You’d told him you didn’t need him, he told you he didn’t need you. So why the hell was he still standing here? 

Perhaps because he remembered the last time he’d let you walk out, the way he’d watched you disappear, thinking he was doing the right thing—giving you the clean end you’d both needed.

Maybe that made him sick to his stomach now, thinking of you in there with Sarah, telling his sister things you wouldn’t say to him, letting her be the person he once was to you.

But you’d called her, not him. You’d picked Sarah to be here, and that hurt like a bitch, but it was what he’d asked for, wasn’t it?

This was what he deserved. He told you to grab your shit and go, forced you to leave because that was supposed to make it easier.

He’d impulsively made his choice the minute he’d wrapped his arm around Sofia, pulling her close in front of everyone who’d once known he was yours. He’d talked himself into it. It was the right call, moving on was the only way to finally get you out of his system. 

He was the one who decided it’d be easier to act like he forgot you than to actually try. He thought he could make it easy—pain-free.

Rafe pinched the bridge of his nose as he walked back toward his Jeep. He gripped the door handle so hard he could break it in half if he wanted to, feeling his knuckles strain.

If he let go, if he closed that door and stormed inside, he’d just be right back where he started.

He stared at his reflection in the window, his hardened face staring back. His pulse was pounding in his temples, his gut twisting and turning as he tried to bury it all six feet under—the need to just go to you, to hold your hand or yell at you for making him care so fucking much.

He finally released the death grip he had on the door handle, forcing his fingers to relax, his knuckles still throbbing. He slid into the driver’s seat, the cold leather you’d help him choose, mocking at his skin as he slammed the door shut.

With a quick flick of his wrist, he threw the car into drive, the tires screeching as he peeled out of the parking lot.

He drove like he was being hunted down. He wanted to get as far away from that place as possible, praying the miles between him and you would stop the churning inside him. 

You’ll just prove her right.

He hated her for saying it, hated Sarah for knowing exactly what buttons to push. 

As he rounded a curve, his headlights swept across Topper’s house. Rafe cut the engine and stalked toward the backyard. Topper’s sprawled-out form on a reclining chair, arms crossed over his chest, sunglasses somehow still on evenly.

He stomped up and smacked the end of his chair.

"Wake the fuck up."

He jolted, nearly tumbling off the chair, ripping his sunglasses off and squinting up at him. “Jesus fucking christ, dude, ever heard of calling ahead?”

But Rafe didn’t answer. He just paced, hands in his growing hair, digging into his scalp like he could rip the frustration out of his skull. Topper sighed, propping himself up on one elbow, he didn’t even look at him, just kept muttering to himself, biting his lip, pacing.

“What the hell happened?”

Finally, he stopped, “I need you to find out what’s wrong with your cousin,” he muttered, not wanting to admit he cared enough to ask.

Topper blinked, brow furrowing. “What do you mean, what’s wrong with her?”

Rafe only shook his head, hands on his hips as he stared at the ground. “I don’t know, okay? She just…she’s acting off. And I can’t—I’m not supposed to care, Top. I’m not. I’m with Sofia now, alright? But she’s still…” His voice trailed off, as he scrubbed a hand down it.

Topper tilted his head, eyeing him knowingly.

“Right, yeah, whatever you say. I’ll figure it out.”

If Sarah Cameron didn’t walk through that hospital door within the next three minutes, you’d lose all the courage you’d summoned over the last hours. Or was it just an hour? You weren’t sure how long you’d been lying there, the IV needle taped uncomfortably into your arm. 

Your fingers curled into the thin blanket draped over you, and you wished—desperately—that you didn’t feel so…empty.

Ten minutes later, she strode in with a glance at the door, as if she wasn’t sure if she’d be able to get there on time. The relief on her face when she saw you was reassuring but it only made the confusion in your chest heavier.

She was so different from Rafe, yet still looked so much like him. She sat in the chair by the bed, eyes scanning your face like she was trying to gauge just how bad it was.

“Hi.”

You swallowed, blinking up at the ceiling to keep the tears at bay.

“Thanks for coming.” 

“Of course,” She reached for your hand where it lay on top of the blanket, hesitating for a split second before giving it a reassuring squeeze. “You okay?” 

You felt a laugh bubble up, “Not even a little.”

She let out a small breath and nodded, squeezing your hand again. “I figured,” she said quietly, and you appreciated that she didn’t pretend to have some miracle answer, “I made him leave.”

She’d made him leave.

You could imagine his face distorted with anger.

You wondered if he’d put up a fight or if he’d just walked away,  giving in to his sister in that infuriating, self-pitying silence he’d perfected.

You weren’t going to ask, the less you knew, the better.

“Good.” You were relieved, but it felt bittersweet, “I didn’t want him here.” 

Except your voice shook, like it simply had to let her know you were lying.

You’d been telling yourself for so long that you didn’t need him—that you didn’t want him anywhere near you. But the second you pictured him there, waiting… God, you hated yourself.

Hated that tiny, pathetic part of you that still wanted him to care, even if it was just a sliver of anything that wasn’t anger or flat-out ignoring you.

“He threw a hissy fight, but don’t worry. He’s not coming back.”

You nodded, half in agreement, half in frustration, “He never listens.”

“Especially when it matters,” Sarah added, rolling her eyes. “I swear, sometimes I think he just likes to make things worse for himself. And everyone else.”

You recalled the sound of his footsteps trailing yours earlier, the way his hand had hovered near you when you swayed, the wild look on his face when you told him to back off. He had seemed…hurt. Like he wanted to fix something he’d already smashed to pieces.

“I don’t want to talk about him.”

She respected that—she wouldn’t insist. There was a lot to unpack when it came to Rafe, but you didn’t need to go there right now. She could tell.

"Okay. Do you want to tell me why you called me and not Topper?”

There wasn’t any judgment in her tone—just plain curiosity, confusion. And you couldn’t blame her. If the roles were reversed, you’d be asking the same thing.

You had to bite your lips to avoid crying for the hundredth time that day. You hadn’t planned on telling someone the biggest secret of your life in a public space, or after nearly having a mental breakdown.

Not like this, with the IV in your arm.

"I—" you started, the words tangled in your throat. "I don't trust him," you admitted quietly, "I don’t trust him with this.”

This.

You turned your head to look out the window, the late afternoon light pouring through the blinds, but it never touched the void you felt inside. 

“He’s too close. He wouldn’t get it. I needed someone who could just… not be involved, you know? I mean—You’re still his sister but—”

Sarah’s already frowning, interrupting your pitying party, “Sweet girl, you don’t have to explain your reasons to me. I’m listening either way. I don’t know what’s going on, but I get it, I understand why you’d want to keep him out of this.”

“You’re the only one I can trust to keep this a secret,” you confessed, “If anyone finds out—if Rafe finds out—it’s over. I’m not ready for that.”

A shadow crossed Sarah’s face, her lips pressing into a thin line. She didn’t ask questions about what you meant—about how Rafe had ruined things before. She didn’t need to. 

“I won’t tell him,” Sarah promised, her grip tightening on your skin. “It’s safe with me. I’ve got your back.”

You closed your eyes, breathing out slowly.

This was hard, harder than anything you’d ever done before, and that was saying something considering all the shit you went through when your family died. She had no idea what you were about to say, and you couldn’t help but wonder if it would change everything between you—between you and her, and you and everyone else.

"Sara, I—" The truth choked you once more, cutting you off. You couldn’t breathe.

Your chest felt vacant, something was missing, something that you didn’t know how to fix, but you had to say it. It was the only way out.

“Are you—" she started to ask, but you quickly shook your head. You could hear the hesitation in her voice.

"Just… just let me tell you,” You begged, pushing the words out before you lost them. “I-I’m pregnant,” you finally blurted out, as if confessing it all at once could make it easier.

But it didn’t. 

You didn’t dare look at Sarah right away. 

Your eyes were stuck on the ceiling, blinking rapidly, you didn’t need her to see how much this was breaking you or how terrified you were. You could feel her eyes on you now, and your hand clenched around the blanket, your knuckles white from the lack of circulation. 

Then, slowly, Sarah squeezed your hand again, she was giving you a moment to breathe, even though you didn’t feel like you deserved it.

“Rafe’s?” she asked quietly, confirming what you already knew she understood.

You nodded, not needing to say it aloud; she could sense the truth in the way your chest hitched, how you couldn’t bring yourself to meet her eyes.

“God,” Sarah breathed out, "And you... you want to...?"

You nodded again. She wasn’t asking if you were sure; you could hear it in the hesitation of her question. She was asking if you were ready to make the choice.

“I don’t want this,” you choked out, the tears finally breaking free. “I can’t have it, Sarah. I can’t. I’m not ready for that. I’m not sure I even know what I want anymore," you spit the doubt out with the brokenness you felt, wiping the traitorous tear that traced down your cheek. "I don’t know what to do."

“I’m here. Whatever you need, however you need to do this—I’m here,” she promised, making sure you wouldn’t float away.

“I can’t… I just… I don’t want him to find out,” you managed between shallow breaths. “If he knew, he’d… I don’t know what he’d do. Maybe it’s stupid, but I don’t want him to look at me like… like he owns me something.”

Sarah nodded, not a hint of judgment on her face, “He won’t know a thing from me, I swear. He’ll never have any say in this, not unless you want him to. This is your choice, no one else’s.”

You didn’t know you’d been holding your breath, but it came out all at once in a shaky exhale.

“Thank you. I just… I didn’t know who else I could ask.”

“Hey,” she said, her voice gentle. “This? This is exactly what I’m here for. I’ve got you, no matter what.”

The empathy there, the way she held space for all your broken pieces.

“New Mexico’s clinic rules… they won’t let me go through with it alone. They said I need someone with me.” You took a shaky breath. “I can’t imagine anyone else but you there, Sarah.”

“Then I’ll be there,” she said, without hesitation. “I’ll get the tickets, we’ll go together. And if you feel like breaking down, then break down, because you don’t have to keep any of this in anymore.”

Her words broke something in you that had been holding everything so tightly. The relief, the gratitude— “You’re really… You’d really do this for me?”

“Of course,” she murmured, pulling you close so your head rested against her shoulder, her fingers brushing through your hair soothingly. “Sweet girl, I’d do this a thousand times over.”

“I mean—he’s your brother. I don’t want to mess things up between you two even more.”

She sighed, giving a small, sad smile, almost like she’d been waiting for you to say that. “You think he’s my priority right now? Don’t you worry about me and him, we always figure it out. Trust me, I’m used to it.”

“He might hate me for this. And if he takes that out on you…” You couldn’t finish.

“Listen to me,” she sighed, “I’m here because I care about you. Rafe and I, we’ll always have our issues—he’s stubborn, and he thinks he has all the answers. But that’s our problem. He’ll never have a say over what I do or who I’m there for. Especially not with this.”

You swallowed hard, “I don’t want you to regret it.”

She gave a wry laugh, brushing a piece of hair back from your face. “You don’t have to protect me from him, remember? He’s my brother, yeah, I love him despite all our shit, but I’m not here for him right now. I’m here for you.”

“You’re sure?” you asked, the question a whisper, almost childlike. You were afraid of the answer, terrified she’d eventually pull away.

“Of course I’m sure,” she replied, tilting your chin so you’d meet her eyes. “Whatever’s going on with Rafe will figure itself out—But right now, you need someone who’s all in, no strings, no doubts. That’s me. You focus on you. I’ll handle him.”

You looked down at your hands, fidgeting with the edge of the blanket, “I don’t think he loves me anymore,” you admitted, almost hoping she wouldn’t hear it, “I was so mean when your dad died.”

When you finally looked up, Sarah was watching you with a sad smile, one that made your heart hurt in both comfort and ache. “You really believe that?” she asked quietly, and you could hear the disbelief in her voice as if it was so obvious to her, something you couldn’t see.

You nodded, swallowing down the sting in your throat. “He doesn’t want me, not really. He’s…he pulled away. Like he’d rather hate me than be close to me. He’s with her.” 

The words tasted bitter, and made you want to hurt him twice as bad, but there was finally some relief in saying it out loud.

She sighed, looking down for a second, almost like she was thinking how to tell you something that hurt her to admit.

“I don’t think that’s the problem,” she murmured, with a knowing sadness. “I think the problem is that you two will never stop loving each other. He’s still hurting from dad’s passing, he’s angry because he doesn’t know how to stop loving you. And you—you’re here, angry that he loved my dad so much, hurt that he left, trying to protect me from him, still worrying about me when you should be focusing on yourself. You’re scared he doesn’t care anymore, and he’s scared you don’t need him at all."

Your lips quivered, your heart about to leap out of your throat, your tongue darted out, briefly brushing your lips.

You weren’t sure you should say it out loud, but maybe you had to. “We’re better off without each other, aren’t we?”

“You’re allowed to be someone without him, and you’re allowed to find out who that is.”

You were slipping, falling back into that spiral of guilt and shame, the one that told you maybe this was all you were good for. Maybe Rafe was right to break things off, perhaps he’d realized that, in the end, you weren’t worth fighting for.

And shit, you hated yourself for still caring. For still wanting him to want you, even though you knew it was poison. Even though you knew that being with him, needing him, was only dragging you both down.

“Thank you.”

And as you sat there, in the stillness of that room, with the sunlight dimming outside, you felt that maybe someday you’d be able to trust yourself too. To believe that you were worth more than the heartache you’d come to accept as your own.

TAGLIST: @maybankslover @october-baby25 @haruvalentine4321 @hopelesslydevoted2paige

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[kateschi]

the katsuki bakugou effect

synopsis: where your husband, katsuki, has a way of calming your daughter like no one else can.

pairing: timeskip!bakugou katsuki x f!reader

katsuki’s ability to calm your daughter is nothing short of magical.

it doesn’t matter how fussy or inconsolable she gets; the moment he holds her, everything changes.

her tiny fists are no longer clenched in frustration, her loud cries slowly taper off, and her little body relaxes in his arms. his presence soothes her in a way no one else’s can.

you’ve lost count of how many times you’ve been at the end of your rope, trying everything you can think of to calm her.

you’ve rocked her gently, hummed her favorite lullaby, even tried a little soft talking, but nothing works.

when your baby’s tears start to escalate, and her little body trembles in distress, you find yourself on the edge of exhaustion.

but then katsuki walks in.

he steps over to you, and with a quick kiss to the top of your head, scoops her from your arms, then instantly, the tension in the room lifts.

his rough hands gently cradle her, and he murmurs something too quiet for you to catch.

you can’t help but watch in awe as she goes from wailing to calm in just a few seconds, her little face nuzzling against his chest. it’s like a switch flips, and you swear you can see her sigh in relief.

it’s always the same. as soon as katsuki’s around, she settles. she looks at him with a calmness that’s impossible to ignore, her tiny lips pouting slightly as she stares up at him.

her little hands grasp weakly at his shirt, her body relaxing into his hold as if everything is suddenly right with the world. and katsuki just holds her, always.

“you’re a softie,” you tease one day as you watch him rock her back and forth.

katsuki shoots you a glare, but it’s softened by the sight of your daughter curled peacefully in his arms. “shut up,” he mutters, but there’s no real heat behind it. and you can’t help but smile.

you cross the room, leaning in to plant a kiss on his cheek. he stiffens for a moment, but the warmth in his eyes tells you everything you need to know.

“I’m serious,” you say. “you’re the softest guy I know.”

he lets out a gruff chuckle, his scowl deepening, though it's clear he's enjoying your attention as he places a gentle kiss on your forehead.

a few weeks later, you’re all at a class 1-a reunion, gathered at the old dorms. the atmosphere is lively, with the familiar banter of your old classmates filling the air.

midoriya’s sitting on the couch, holding your daughter carefully in his arms, cooing softly at her as the rest of the group laughs and talks around them.

but suddenly, the peaceful mood shifts. your girl begins to fidget in midoriya’s arms, her little face scrunching up in that all-too-familiar way before the whimpers start.

a soft cry escapes her lips, and then it builds, escalating into the full-blown wail you know so well. midoriya looks startled, glancing around as if searching for some way to calm her.

“uh, uh, it’s okay,” midoriya says, trying to gently rock her in his arms. “it’s okay, sweetheart."

but your baby’s cries only seem to grow louder, her face turning red as her hands flail helplessly. you glance at katsuki, already knowing what’s coming next.

without a word, katsuki stands up from his seat, the others giving him a bit of space as he walks over.

his eyes lock on your daughter, and there’s something about his gaze that makes everything else fade into the background. he’s not rushing, not frantic.

he just calmly steps in, his arms outstretched.

midoriya silently hands the little girl over. as soon as katsuki has her, everything shifts. he holds her against his chest, and his rough hand gently pats her back.

his thumb brushes against her little arm, his voice soft. “it’s me,” he murmurs, his tone low and steady. “it’s okay.”

your little girl hiccups, her cries fading almost immediately, and then she stops. her lips jut out in a pout, still a little upset, but no longer in distress.

she stares up at him, her wide eyes searching his face as if recognizing him. and then, she settles into the crook of his arm, her tiny hands grasping weakly at the fabric of his shirt.

the room is silent for a moment, everyone watching in awe as your girl rests peacefully in katsuki’s arms. he doesn’t even seem to notice the attention.

his focus is entirely on her, his expression softening as she calms.

you smile to yourself, watching him from the sidelines. even after all this time, katsuki never ceases to surprise you with how much he’s grown, how much he’s learned.

you remember when he first found out he was going to be a father, and how nervous he’d been (though he would never admit that).

but now, here he is, effortlessly calming your daughter.

“man, you’re a real softie now, huh?” kirishima teases from across the room, a wide grin plastered on his face.

katsuki’s eyes narrow immediately, and he glares at his friend. “shut the hell up, red.”

but the teasing doesn’t stop there.

kaminari, who’s been silently watching the entire scene, leans forward with a smirk. “I can’t believe it…the ‘explosion hero’ is actually the baby whisperer now?”

katsuki frowns, and his glare remains trained on the two of them. but there’s a slight restraint in his movements—one that’s only noticeable to you.

he’s trying to stay calm, and it’s all because he doesn’t want to wake your little girl up. you can practically feel the tension in the air as his patience wears thin.

sero, naturally, chimes in with a smirk of his own. “I’ve gotta hand it to you, man. I never thought I’d see the day when you’d be ‘aww’ing over a baby like some mushy ball of fluff.”

katsuki’s mouth opens, ready to fire back, but then he glances down at your sleeping daughter, her little chest rising and falling peacefully, and he shuts it again.

for a split second, his fierce expression softens. he takes a deep breath, holding the baby a little tighter.

“you’re lucky she’s asleep, or I would've blasted your asses to oblivion,” he grumbles, but the threat is half-hearted.

kaminari lets out a nervous laugh. “jeez, man, alright, we get it.”

you can’t help but chuckle softly, leaning against the doorframe as you watch them. 

katsuki’s eyes narrow in warning, but despite his frown, there’s a warmth to his expression that doesn’t go unnoticed when he looks back at d/n.

it’s moments like these when the rest of the world seems to disappear, and it's just him, her, and the quiet calm they share.

sighing in resignation, he shifts slightly, walking over to you. you watch as he makes his way across the room, still cradling your daughter in his arms, her tiny hands gripping his shirt as she drifts into a deeper sleep.

you don’t say anything at first, but as he gets closer, you meet his gaze with a soft smile.

there’s no denying the softening effect he has when it’s just the two of you—well, the three of you, if you count the tiny bundle in his arms.

he leans into you as he steps to your side, his broad shoulders brushing against yours, and without a word, he tilts his head slightly toward you, seeking the quiet comfort of being beside you.

“I told them to shut up,” katsuki mutters, his voice lower now, quieter. his usual fiery energy is subdued, and he seems content to just be in your presence.

he exhales slowly, letting the weight of the situation fade away. you reach up and gently touch his arm, a soft laugh escaping you.

"she's lucky you’re her dad," you murmur, your eyes flickering down to where your daughter is curled against his chest. "you’re so patient with her."

katsuki scoffs lightly, rolling his eyes, but the smile tugging at his lips betrays his true feelings.

“I’m not some damn pushover,” he mutters, but there’s a softness in his tone that makes you want to kiss him.

and you do.

kofi — navigation — masterlist

do not copy, translate, or plagarize

[toyogamii]

pt.1 pt.2

“i didn’t take you for the sit down restaurant type, ryo,” you bring your drink up to your lips and offer him a teasing smirk. he huffs and pulls at the collar of his black button down.

he doesn’t know how the hell you managed to get him, ryomen sukuna, resident town bad ass; on an actual date. but the way that sweet nickname you’ve taken to calling him rolls of your tongue might have something to do with it.

“hah, I’m usually not… figured you might be though,” he mumbles the last part, his ears turning a slight pink and you grin.

“well i appreciate you trying something new for me,” you look around at the candles and the suits and ties and most importantly at the gorgeous tattooed man in front of you (who looks so awkward in the most adorable way possible).

“however,” you continue, “i’d much rather you be comfortable for our date.”

“yeah?” he asks, giving you a grateful smile.

you nod.

“wanna get outta here?”

he flashes you a charming grin.

“hell yeah… though you might regret asking that, sweetheart.”

mere moments later you’re flying down the road, your heart pounding as you hold tight to sukuna’s waist. he’s graceful and calm as he drives the motorcycle but that does little to slow your breathing.

you’re wearing his helmet, but even through the darkened screen you can still see just how handsome he is. the street lights give him a halo like effect and the wind whips through his pink hair, pushing it out of his face.

“just a couple more minutes, doll!” he hollers over the sound of the wind and you nod, leaning your head on his broad back as best you can.

when he finally comes to a stop and you get off, your legs are still shaking and you take just a minute to gather yourself before looking around.

“takin me to a second location to dump my body off?” you ask, a brow raised.

sukuna gives you a dead pan look and pulls the helmet off your head. he freezes for just a minute as he takes in the way your hair is a mess and your makeup is a bit smudged but your eyes are crinkling and your smile is- god your smile is gonna fucking kill him one of these days.

“not funny,” he replies when he finally moves, flicking your forehead. you scrunch your face into a pout and god he wants to kiss you silly.

“where are we exactly?”

“come on.”

he turns and walks off and you hurry to catch up with him, slipping your hand into his. it takes everything in him not implode. your hand is warm and soft and so much smaller than his.

you’re killing him, he thinks, and yet… he doesn’t really seem to mind it. usually, the sound of someone rambling on and on would annoy the piss out of him. but listening to you chatter as he guides the both of you through the dark and dense patch of trees… if you’re killing him, he could die a happy man.

“we’re here,” he says. you peek around in him and gasp softly. you’re on a hill, overlooking the entirety of your home town. the street lights blare and you can hear the faint sounds of the city but the contrasting of the soft twinkling stars and the warmth of sukuna’s hand in yours has you reeling.

“it’s beautiful,” you murmur.

“i used to take yuuji here… before i had full custody of him. just to get him away from all… that.”

you nod and rest your head on his shoulder, not pushing him any further.

“i’m sure he loved it.”

sukuna chuckles and his arm makes its way around your waist.

“yeah, little brat would cry and cry when we had to leave. he won’t even remember it when he’s older though.”

you look up at him only to see he’s already looking down at you.

“you’ll remember it.”

“… yeah.”

there’s silence, a pause where time stops and suddenly the rest of the world fades away to nothing. it’s just you and him in a little bubble, away from all the craziness of the world.

before you can open your mouth to say anything, sukuna’s lips on yours. the kiss is everything that he isn’t; soft, gentle, hesitant. your arms come up to wrap around his neck and his grip on your waist tightens.

he never wants to stop kissing you. he can’t get enough of the way your tongue feels sliding against his and how your body trembles slightly as he holds you.

yeah… you’re gonna kill him one of these days, he just knows it.

pt. 4

[satoruan]

How their kid breaks their heart  — Jujutsu Kaisean

( cw ) f!reader, fluff, domestic, kinda hurt/comfort but not really hehe just butt hurt husbands, breastfeeding  

featuring. Gojo Satoru, Choso Kamo, Nanami Kento 

authors note. I haven’t written anything in so long I think I forgot how to. Anyway, I love dilfs ❤️ JJK dilfs are my favorite thing ever.

CHOSO KAMO 

Choso’s infant has been screaming for what felt like hours, he has a clean diaper, there aren’t any tags on his clothes that may be bothering him, he’s swaddled tightly, and he refuses to drink the lukewarm bottle Choso made him so that must mean he’s not hungry, right? Choso just wanted to be able to do this himself, take care of his baby, and not depend on you so much but when you step into your bedroom after returning home, he almost starts crying too. “I-I can’t-” He stutters, eyes wide as you make your way into your shade bed. “Hey, hey it’s okay baby.” You whisper as your hand moves to cup the side of his face. You lift his head and kiss him a few times before reaching for your baby. He continues to scream before you give him your breast. He settles down almost instantly. “He hates me.” Choso almost whimpers as he lays his head on your shoulder, the both of you looking down at the little boy. “No, he doesn’t, I promise you he doesn’t.” You say, reaching down to kiss his forehead. “I tried to feed him and he just turned his head and screamed, it felt like he was cursing me.” He grumbles, rubbing at the baby’s swaddled feet. “That’s because he it’s used to the bottle, he’d rather have a boob, rather suck the nipple than the bottle tip.” You explain to your husband. “Well, at least he takes at me in that regard.” “You’re disgusting.” 

GOJO SATORU 

“Daddy look, it’s Uncle ‘Guru!” Your daughter squeals as she grabs a photo from the pile on the floor between your little family. You guys were supposed to be making a scrapbook but Satoru and your daughter weren’t much of a help. “Yes, that is Suguru baby! That’s from when we were back in high school and look mommy’s there too” Satoru smiles at the photo. “Were you and Mommy married?” She asks with a smile on her face. “No, not yet—“ “I’m gonna marry Uncle ‘Guru!” She exclaims, looking at her father with a huge smile on her face as the thought infiltrates her mind. Satoru feels his heart sink into his stomach. This can’t be happening. “He’ll be the bestest husband in the whole world Daddy!” “What about me baby? Wouldn’t you rather marry someone like Daddy?”  He whines trying to take this picture out of her hands. “Nope! I wanna marry Uncle ‘Guru! You’re too stinky.” She side-eyes him before going to sit next to you, picture still in hand. Satoru just stares at her, mouth slightly agape as she smiles down at the old picture. You lean over the scrapbook and pat your husband’s knee. “Well, ‘Toru that’s another one of our daughters that would rather marry Suguru. Better luck next time.”   

NANAMI KENTO 

“Come to Daddy!” “No come to mommy!” You playfully shove at Nanami’s shoulder. Your baby stares at you two from a few feet away with curiosity. You guys were doing that trend that was circling social media, set your baby across the room and see who they crawl to. “Daddy lets you eat some of his solid foods, come to me, sweetheart.” Nanami pats the floor, motioning for your baby to come his way. Your baby starts to crawl slowly, looking at both of you, questioning who he wants to crawl to. “Mommy has an endless supply of food on her right now, Daddy doesn’t have any on him! Come to Mommy!” You tap at the hardwood floors. Your baby seems to make up his mind then and rushes to you. Nanami frowns as you jump up and celebrate. He was certain you he would crawl to him. “Ha! I win you lose! Mommy’s the best!” You laugh and soon enough your son starts to laugh too and even though Nanami is a little hurt he can’t help but smile and join his little family’s celebration. 

[luveline]

hellooo!! im not sure if your requests are open so feel free to ignore this but i was wondering if you could write for tasm!peter where the reader just got her wisdom teeth removed and she’s all loopy on anesthetics and forgets peter is her boyfriend? i saw this video where this girl got her wisdom teeth pulled and forgot she was dating her boyfriend and fell in love with him all over again😭😭

https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZPR7sGQo5/

thank you for your request! ♡ fem, 1k

"Here she is," the nurse says gently, walking you out with his arm behind your back. "Alright, say hi to Peter." 

"Hi, Peter," you mumble, eyes on the floor. 

Peter grins at you, worry warm at the back of his throat. "Hey. Is that everything?" he asks, nodding at the nurses paper bag of aftercare. 

"Everything you'll need." The nurse helps Peter take over, hoisting your arm over his shoulders before stepping away. "Alright, feel better, okay? And don't hesitate to call if something comes up. We're here to look after you." 

You seem appreciative in your fog, but it's hard to tell. Peter curls his arm around your hip and gives it a soft rub as he leads you to the stairs. Whoever devised the floor plan here had murder on their mind —the second floor is completely inaccessible. Luckily, Peter has a lot of strength at his disposal. 

You can feel it. "Woh, you're strong," you murmur. 

"You know that already." His grip on you tightens, pretty much carrying you down the tight staircase. 

"Do I?" you ask. You make a sound like you're hurting, a squeak. 

"I'd hope so." At the end of the staircase, he sits you down, worried you're not feeling well. "You okay? I can princess carry you if you need me to." 

You look at him with wide eyes. He turns to check there's no one standing behind him, but you're really looking at him. "What?" he asks, touching your knee, imploring. "You look like you've seen a ghost." 

"You're Peter?" you ask. 

Ah, the amnesiac effect of anaesthetic. His touch turns comforting, stroking your thigh with as much care as he can drive into his palm alone. "That's me. Hey, if you're forgetting me, does that mean you're not mad at me for last Friday anymore? 'Cos I know you said you forgive me but I can tell it still pisses you off–" 

Your eyes fall to his hand. "Why would I be mad at you?" you ask. 

"I finished the milk and put the carton back in the fridge, even though I promised I'd stop doing it. You see the jug and think there's milk left. We were gonna have macaroni and cheese..." He nudges your fingers with his. "Are you okay? You don't look like yourself."

"What do I usually look like?" 

"Not so, you know. Daunted." 

"You're really handsome," you whisper, refusing to meet his eye. 

"Oh, you think so?" 

You nod like your head is too heavy. You're embarrassed, you sweetheart, oh my god Peter could cry into your lap. 

"Let's get you to the car, baby." 

"Where are we going?" The gauze gives you the world's most adorable lisp, and it turns your gasp into a hum as Peter stands you up. 

"Home." 

"Together?" 

"Yeah, we live together. It's a nice place, and you're a great decorator, you know? It's cozy." 

"Thank you," you say shyly. 

You're not not shy with him, but it's been a long time since you got so quiet over a practically innocuous comment. He wants to see how you'll react to real compliments, over the top stuff that he one hundred percent means. It's a little mean, but when will you ever be like this again? 

He helps you out past the desk and onto the street to your car where it's parked a half a block down. "Don't worry about all this, okay? I'm gonna take such good care of you, sweetheart. There's an ice pack and a brand new comforter with your name on it waiting at home." Peter smiles at your starry eyes as they flash to his, amazed at his simple plans. "How does that sound, beautiful? Is there anything you want before we head home? Anything that would make you feel better?" 

"You're gonna take care of me?" you ask breathlessly. 

"That's my job. That's my number one boyfriend duty." 

"You're my boyfriend?" 

"I am!" he says happily, laughing as he speaks. "For a while. I've been trying to take things further but you're always really shy about getting married–" 

"You want to get married? To me?" 

Peter presses a soft kiss to your cheek. "You're the only person I'd ever want to get married to. We already picked the flowers–" 

"We did?" 

He laughs again, all your questions. He loves regular you but loopy you is especially endearing. "Last time I got super drunk, yeah. You never let me forget it." 

"So you love me?" you ask, stopping short.

"I love you so much," he says immediately, hugging you into his side. He dots another kiss against the top of your head. "You should remember that even if you don't remember me." 

"I love you," you say quietly. 

Peter doesn't know if that's your memory returning, or if you've fallen in love with him in the last fifteen minutes. He could easily fall in love with you that quickly, and yet he's still amazed at your confession. 

"That's good. That's great. Thank you, sweetheart," he says, desperate to hold your face in his hands but weary of causing you future pain. "There's your car," —he points, lowering his head to yours to make sure you can see it, hand now protectively held between your shoulder blades— "let's go home now. Yeah?" 

You start walking again at his requests. He can pretty much see the steam rising off of your face, giddy with happiness at these revelations. You're together, you're in love, and you think he's handsome. He wonders what you'll have to say about his biceps in this state of delirium; you go crazy for his arms sober. 

Which reminds him. 

"I totally have another secret to tell you," he says, unlocking the car as you approach and helping you into the passenger seat. 

"What is it?" you ask. 

Peter closes you in and skirts around the door, climbing into the driver's seat. He's glad that New York is as ridiculously loud as ever, because not even the closed doors or your sodden gauze can smother the way you shriek.

"My boyfriend is Spider-Man?!" 

[eyeheartboobiez]

shower sex w/ jason

ask: I’ve been craving backshots with Jaybird(possibly in the shower)and reader being blackout cockdrunk, I don’t know if you’re comfortable with degradation, praise/degradation or slightly mean!Jason so I’ll leave that optional(if you’re not comfortable with that forget I ever said that). And ofc filthy dirty talk is always welcome 😉

a/n: @nyxx01 IM SO SORRY FOR TAKING SO LONG I HOPE U LIKE IT

wc: 800-ish

tw: subspace themes

"Shut up and take it."

The steam radiating throughout the bathroom was nothing compared to what was actually happening in the shower. What was supposed to be a simple wash after a night out, abruptly turned into something much more pornographic.

For hours now, Jason had been plowing into your entrance, not thinking too let up in the slightest. You were surprised the water hadn’t gone cold considering the two of you had been at it for hours now.

Despite the hot water cascading down your skin, your nipples grazing the tile of the wall, or even the slight clutch of Jason’s hand around your throat, you felt completely stripped of all your senses. 

Absolutely weak in the knees by now, your body had gone completely limp from being handled so brutally. The sobs of pleasure slipping from your lips were the only signs of life from you. 

As the rhythm of Jason’s thrusts shook your entire body, you were sure you’d have fallen over by now had it not been for his iron grip around your torso. "Jace,” you huffed, “Jus’ gimme a sec-"

A piercing smack shrilled through the air, loud enough to be heard between the pouring water and your shameless moans. You didn’t even realize how much your rear stung until you noticed callused hands teasingly rub at the stricken area, “Nuh uh, you don't get to talk. Not right now."

The vigilante moved to grip you by your elbows, his hips still thrusting at an unforgiving pace. Tears stained your cheeks as you began to cry, the saltiness of your cries somehow finding a way to stand out against the tap water around you. 

"Aww, you crying sweetheart? I thought you wanted to be treated like a whore t’night, hm? Thought this was what you wanted, baby.” His teases did nothing but add to your arousal, only hurting you on a surface level.

“I should just spread you open and pound you till tomorrow, huh?" He cooed. “I’d finally fuck the brat outta you. Maybe then you’ll start being good ‘fa me.”

You practically shuddered at the thought, desperate to be filled with more of Jason’s cum. His feigned sympathy made your eyes water even more.

However, that dream was quickly shut down. His sudden talkativeness was a telltale sign that he was close to reaching his peak.

Not even a minute later, you felt his hips shudder vigorously against your backside, the grip on you tightening as he was pushed over the edge. Ropes of cum pulsed from the girth between his legs, penetrating deep within your sensitive hole

“Mmmf, there we go.” Groans sputtered from his mouth, languid praises rumbling from chest, “That’s it hon, give it to me.”

Following him in sequence, you reached your final orgasm of the night. Your knees buckled and convulsions took over your body as you felt the climax rush through you. 

Before you could hit the floor though, the Gothamite was quick to catch you in his arms. Gently, he sat you down on the floor of the tub, making sure to angle you away from the pouring water.

Feeling the ground beneath you, your senses were slowly coming back to you. While you weren’t necessarily dickmatized anymore, your thoughts were still a bit hazy.

The water rinsing you down, a fresh towel drying you off, butter massaging its way into your skin; everything happened in a blur. But, even while your mind was still trying to catch up with the world around you, you knew that you were in good hands.

“C'mon doll, help me out a little here.” Blinking into reality, you looked to see you were sat on the edge of your bed, dressed in one of your boyfriend’s tee shirts. Jason was standing between your legs, attempting to wrap your hair for the night, but your drowsy figure was no help whatsoever.

Straightening up, you moved to make the job easier for him. “There ya’ go,” he muttered, the low timbre of his voice only lulling you further to sleep, “Look at you bein’ so good for me now.”

Once your mane was taken care of, you hastily made your way under the sheets, the soft fabric covering you in a blanket of warmth. After making sure you were comfortable, the batboy made his way over to his side of the bed, settling himself in right beside you.

Although, just as you were about to clock out for the night, Jason squished your cheeks together, forcing your eyes to meet his, "Maybe next time think twice before flirting with the bartender, hm?"

You knew he was still irritated with you, but the goodnight kiss he left on your forehead told you he’d get over it. Sooner or later.

a/n: this reads like a wattpad fic (derogatory)

[penelopepine]

Little Kicks

141 reacts to feeling the baby kick for the first time. 

Price: 

It's late at night and Price is helping you with your nightly routine. He helped with rubbing some soothing cream onto stomach; it was something he honestly looked forward to every night now. To feel your pregnant stomach under his palm is something he would never deny himself; not even for a second.

The bedroom is quiet; your eyes are closed and clearly enjoying his touch. At least that was until you suddenly wince in pain. Immediately Price is on alert, "What's wrong, sweetheart?"

"Just-," you gasp and wince again, "Just the baby kicking me. "

Price releases a relieved breath hearing those words. He knows the little one has been more active as of late, and that the one light taps are slowly but surely getting harder.

"Here give me your hand! With how hard she's kicking inside there you might be able to feel it now."  

With your words Price reaches out and puts his hand on your stomach once more. He spreads his palm out wide hoping to feel even the lightest tap. And eventually after a few seconds he does! He can feel his baby girl kick his hand. 

Looking at you he sees that you have the softest smile on your face as you watch him. You know that this has been something he had been waiting for ever since you first mentioned it. He couldn’t help, but think how this was all he had ever wanted. Price wouldn’t change this moment for anything in the world. 

He moves himself up on the bed towards you, and pulls you into his arms. Doing so he makes sure to have one hand pressed on stomach as he whispers praises in your ear. 

Gaz: 

Gaz is in the living room building some furniture for the baby’s room when a gasp followed by a loud thud of something hitting the ground. He is immediately calling your name, and rushing to find you. 

Once in the kitchen he sees you standing in the middle of the room. You're obviously in pain, but you have a wide smile on your face. A tupperware container sits on the ground; the lip Is still on and luckily nothing spilled out onto the floor.

"What! What is it? Is everything alright?" Gaz quickly asks, coming to stand right in front of you. 

 "Give me your hand!" You excitedly exclaim while reaching for his hand and placing it on your stomach. 

 Confusion and worry quickly leaves him as he feels a sudden pressure press up against his palm. "Is that-?"

"It is!"

Gaz drops to his knees; his hand never leaves its spot. He loves you so much, and this pregnancy has only strengthened that bond he has with you. 

Everything in this moment is perfect, and he can't believe his life has turned out like this. How he ended up with you he'll never know, but he'll forever be glad he did. Gaz gives your stomach a kiss before rising to his feet, and leading you to the couch. All he wants to do right now is hold his family in his arms. 

Soap: 

Soap had his head right on top of your stomach as he talked to you and baby about how he couldn't wait for them to be born, and everything he had planned after that. When Soap had found out you were pregnant he was ecstatic, and would talk to the baby any chance he could. 

While doing so this time though a hard pressure hits him on his check. You gasp at the same time Soap jerks his head up to meet your eyes.

"Did she-?

"Was that-?"

You both say at the same time before focusing back on your stomach. Soap is immediately placing his head back on your stomach; waiting for the baby to kick him again. 

"Do it again, little lass, do it again!" He whispers repeatedly to the baby.

It only takes him a few short moments for it to happen again, and when it does Soap lets out an excited laugh. 

"I think she likes your voice." You affectionately mention to him while running your fingers through his hair. 

"Aye, just like her mama!" Soap reaches up and grabs your hand that's in his hair and brings it closer to him to give it a kiss before returning it where it once was. This right here was his favorite way to relax when home. 

Ghost: 

In the middle of the night Ghost feels you wiggling in his arms. Your pregnancy had been affecting your sleep so this was pretty normal, but before he can pull you closer to him he hears your pained wheeze. Instantly he’s wide awake and calling out to you. 

“Love, what’s wrong?” 

“The baby,” you gasp, “the baby is apparently wanting to be a football player, and decided that now is the perfect time to practice.” 

The relief he feels from those words are instantaneous. He hates that you’re in pain, but he would rather this than the worst possible scenario. “I’m sorry, love. Is there anything I can do for you?”

“Can you talk to her? She always calms down when you do.” You sleepily ask him. 

And he does; if simply talking is what it takes to help both of his girls then he will do so. Leaning down towards your stomach he places one hand on it, and starts to speak. What surprises him though is that when he does he feels a light punch against his palm. 

That was the baby he realized. He felt her. A wave of love overflows inside of him, and for a second he thinks surely this can’t be real. There is no way his life has turned into something this perfect. 

[xosannie]

Ateez members that would praise or degrade you

☆genre: smut (ot8xreader)

☆word count: 1k+

☆warnings: degrading and praise (obvi), dirty talk, oral (m receiving), just a teeny little bit of biting, exhibition (through the phone), slight bondage, orgasm denial, use of sex toys, aggressive, “fucked to mush”, hair pulling, fingering, titties get sucked a bit. (Let me know if I missed any)

☆MDNI 18+ only! If these kinds of thing make you uncomfy just leave plz. Otherwise, enjoy you horny ppl :3

Praising:

Seonghwa

Seonghwa sat in his chair as you’re sucking his dick, kneeling under his desk. He caresses your hair, looking down at you, his attention—that was once on the Legos he was building, now watching the way you slowly take his length in your mouth. You look up at him with wide eyes, taking him deeper down your throat. You pull off panting loudly and stroke him faster to catch your breath. You kiss his tip before taking him back in your mouth, bobbing your head up and down. His brows furrowed as soft moans escaped his lips. He instinctively bucks his hips as he locks eyes with you.

“That’s a good girl, there you go. You’re taking my dick so well, fuck you make me feel so good, sweetheart. Keep going.”

Yeosang

Yeosang hovers over you, his arms flexing as he supports his weight on his elbows. He fucks you with slow and deep thrusts, leaning down to kiss you softly yet passionately. With every hard thrust, the bed rocks, and hits the wall. He kisses down to your neck, sucking and biting ever so gently just to soothe the slight pain with his tongue. You whimper softly at the feeling of his mouth, and you moan his name as he gives another deep thrust. Your hands entangle in his hair as you hold him impossibly closer, wrapping your arms around his toned body. He nibbled at your earlobe before softly whispering with his gentle yet deep voice.

“You make such pretty noises, baby, keep moaning for me I want to hear you. I love fucking you so much, you’re perfect.”

Jongho

You were on FaceTime with Jongho, missing the man who was halfway across the world due to his tour. You propped your phone against a pile of pillows, legs spread wide, fingering yourself while Jongho watched through the screen. You look away, feeling slightly embarrassed being the only one naked as Jongho watched fully clothed. Even though he wasn’t there in real life, you can still feel the way he stared at you intently, which made you dripping wet even more. Jongho groans as he hears the noises of your fingers moving in and out of your wet pussy. He started to palm himself through his pants, breath growing more labored the more he watched you, wishing he could jump through the screen this very moment.

"Fuck, you look so beautiful, baby. Look at you, you’re doing such a good job fucking you’re pretty pussy. God, I wish I was the one making you feel that good.”

Degrading

Hongjoong

You were on your knees, a vibrator stuffed in your pussy and your hands were tied behind your back. You sat there trembling, begging desperately for release that Hongjoong had been denying you for what seemed like forever. He watched with amusement, sitting in front of you at the edge of his bed. His arms and legs crossed, as he gripped the controller to the toy. He could tell you were close to release again by the way your hips started rocking and your moans became more high-pitched. He smiles wide, waiting for you to get on the very edge, and right before you cum he turned the toy off with the controller. You whine desperately, on the verge of tears, body squirming as you look up at him with pleading eyes. He smirked down at you, laughing at your desperation.

"Aw, look at you, you look so pathetic, begging for me to let you cum. I bet you were really close this time, weren’t you? Well, that’s too bad, now take that toy, naughty girls like you don’t deserve my dick.”

Mingi

Mingi pinned your legs against your chest, drilling his dick in you as you lay there and took it. You moan his name loudly, eyes rolling in the back of your head. He grunts as he feels the way your pussy clenched down on his length. His thrusts were so hard and fast your brain turned to mush, the only thing you can think of was Mingi and his big dick. He throws his head back, moaning out loud, his grip on your thighs so harsh you were sure there would be bruises the next morning. He twitched inside you at the way you looked so fucked, mouth agape with a bit of drool rolling down your chin. Your hair was a mess as black streaks ran down your face, tears ruining your pretty mascara and eyeliner you had on earlier.

“Fuck, take my dick you slut, you love it, don’t you? I know you do, you’re clenching down on me so hard as if you’re afraid I’ll pull out, fucking cock slut.”

Wooyoung

Wooyoung had you bent over the kitchen counter, you reached behind, grabbing his hips, wanting to feel him deeper. He was in the middle of cooking dinner, but you decided to come in and tease him, wearing an apron and nothing else. When he saw you, his jaw practically dropped, as you would sway your hips teasingly, bending over and exposing yourself to “pick something up.” He snapped, and now here he was thrusting his now-hard dick into you, giving you what you came in the kitchen for. He gripped your hip with one hand and ran his fingers in your hair with the other, tugging at the strands, making you moan louder. He pulled your head back and leaned in while thrusting deep into your aching pussy, whispering in your ear.

“You really want my attention that bad? We already fucked this morning, but you’re such a fucking whore you need to come in here practically naked so I can give you my dick again. Such a needy little bitch.”

Praising and degrading

(My personal fav)

Yunho

You guys were in the middle of a movie night, but you grew too needy when you watched the way Yunho’s hand ran up and down your thigh. Now you were lying back on the couch, legs spread open in front of Yunho as he hovered over to you. His fingers slowly moving in and out of your dripping cunt while simultaneously pressing down on your clit with his thumb. His fingers were so long they filled you up just nicely. You reached over to grab his arm for support as you moan his name softly. He had to pin your thigh down to prevent your trembling legs from closing shut on him.

"Aw, baby, you’re so pretty like this, taking my fingers like the good slut you are. You’re so needy we can’t even watch a movie without you getting horny. That’s okay though, take my fingers, baby.”

San

San moaned loudly, resting his head against the headboard as you bounced on his length at a fast speed, riding him. He gripped your hips, guiding you up and down, his biceps flexing with every movement and a slight sheen of sweat forming on his skin. You held onto his broad shoulders, throwing your head back and moaning loudly. San bites his lip as he watches the way your tits bounce in his face. His hands ran up your body to grasp your breasts, leaning forward to take one in his mouth. You gasp and hold his head against you, loving the feeling of his tongue massaging your nipple. He moans against your skin when you clench around him, getting closer to your high.

“There you go, baby, you ride me so well. Cum on my dick like the pretty cockslut you are. Fuck, you deserve it, this slutty pussy deserves to cum.

Thank you for reading I hope you enjoyed :p Let me know if I should write more stuff like this. Feel free to give recs on what you want to see next.

[drgnflyteabox]

mdni - the 141 find a cozy place to stay during an op (that's definitely all that happens). implied fat!reader

(dubcon, poly, gangbang, anal, price is in charge of everyone<3)

So blizzards can happen in the blink of an eye on high, isolated mountains, right?

And the 141 have done missions in rural places, snowy places, mountainous places, right?

And there are tons of tiny little isolated towns, all over the world, built around these mountains for one reason or another - coal mining, logging, etc.

Now imagine the 141 on a mission, somewhere cold, somewhere isolated, a place that feels like the edge of the world. Desolate.

Now imagine the 141 seeing, in the near distance, a winking pale orange light. It's a good enough place as any to approach - it isn't safe to be caught in this blizzard, anyhow. Even with their gear, the safehouse is still an hour away and the snowfall seems historic...

Now imagine you're sitting in your family home, all alone, going a little crazy with cabin fever. Your woodstove is burning hot, but you're still cuddled up in knits and a thermal underneath. You're making stew for dinner with root vegetables from the basement cellar, it's bubbling and softening for you while you crochet, trying to keep your mind off the monumental shoveling task you'll have to deal with tomorrow

Until there's a knock on the door.

"Hello ma'am, I'm just wondering if me and my friends here could rest until it's safe to continue our hike?" (I love the way gaz says ma'am)

Hike? Nobody hikes up here - you've only ever seen a couple tourists in your life, thrill seeking ice climbers who came and went.

And they certainly weren't dressed in snow camo, hiding guns behind their backs.

But you were raised right, and the man at the door has kind eyes - he's handsome, too, but you'd never say it out loud. Gaz pushes the door further in when you tentatively open it, and in comes barreling three more massive men, their boots stomping and leaving a mess.

Soap smells the stew on the stove and beelines for it, lifting his helmet to inhale deeply.

Ghost sweeps the room like it might be hiding an enemy somewhere- even though it's one room total, the stove in the middle, separating the kitchen and your bed.

Price approaches you all apologetic, apologizing for "these ruffians", holding his camo helmet to his gut like it's formalwear. "Apologies, sweetheart, we weren't expecting the weather to turn on us."

You aren't quite sure how you end up sitting on prices lap, naked except for your socks, while he squeezes your stomach and grunts in your ear not to be shy when putting your weight on him. His other hand is cupped over your pussy, murming thank yous for feeding his men.

They're eating your stew, stripped out of gear, cocks tented in their white cargos.

"We're a gaggle of lucky boys, eh?" Soap says. "Nice, cozy, soft girl. Warm cabin. A man could get used to this."

You wind up pressed down on your mattress, hands held behind you by one man while another fucks you hard, spurred on by price behind them. At first, it's johnny, whining high in his throat while price guides his hips and gaz holds your arms by your head. "Need to thank her proper, boy." The obvious authority in prices voice makes your pussy clench around him, and he shakes over you, trying hard not to come too early.

Gaz reaches down from where he's holding your arms, pinching your clit until you buck against Johnny and squirt around him.

Then it's gaz, who lifts your legs and squeezes your big thighs, locking eyes with ghost. He's steady, only breaking composure when Simon praises him. "Thats a lad. Good, just like that, Kyle." He's the first to ever make you come from penetration alone, hips moving in a way that makes your abdomen tighten and tighten and tighten until you reach the longest orgasm of your life, nearly crying with how intense it feels.

Price ends up flipping you over - nudging you up on your hands and knees, the bed creaking with the combined weight of he and his lieutenant taking their places in front and behind you.

Simon slips his cock in your mouth, staring down at you through the balaclava. You can barely make out a thick scar, one that looks like it might go through his whole face. You lose focus when price pushes his fingers in your ass, though, and you squeal.

There's no where to run except further down simons cock, though, where you gag, spit running all down your chest onto the bed.

"Shh, sh," Price rubs your flank like you're a spooked animal. He squeezes the ample flesh of your asscheek appreciatively. "Jus wanna give your poor pussy a break, aye? I reckon she's tired,"

He pushes into you impatiently and it burns a little, but he soothes it with a palm over your soft, sore cunt. Rubs a thumb over your clit slowly, jostling you back and forth over simons cock.

You come once more before the night is over, tears finally running down your cheeks, mixing with your saliva, with simons come. It's a painful orgasm, wrenched from you - but that makes it all the sweeter.

They wipe you down and spoon feed you more stew, after, to recover your energy :') price has the boys tidy their boot tracks and put away leftovers while he and Simon hold you from both sides. They can barely fit with you on your bed, but tucked in like this - on top of your furs, naked as the day you were born, praised for your soft body and "What a good girl you are, babydoll."

Sigh

I'm sure this idea has probably been written but I was listening to this and couldn't stop imagining it lmfao

[icequeenbae]

Initiation (m) | HHJ, YJI

Pairing: Hyunjin x Reader x Jeongin

Werewolf AU, mates, PWP, fluff, smut

Warnings: explicit content, unprotected sex, threesome (duh), oral, mating, knotting, marking, some possessiveness if you squint (softdom!Hyunjin?)

Word Count: ~5k

Summary: You joined Chan’s pack a few months ago and it’s been great so far. But there’s been some frustration accumulating in you for a while that you couldn’t battle on your own. Thankfully, there are young wolves around ready to help you. And they might be even more willing to take care of you than you realize.

© Please do not copy/ post on other platforms without permission.

Author’s note: Okay, I’m finally back with a new story!! I know I’ve been a bit absent lately, but that’s cz I’m writing a whole HHJ novel lmao Not even kidding, that one is gonna be sooo looonggg… But in the meantime, I decided yesterday that I needed to write something short and fun that I can share with you asap, and this happened! I was up till 7 or 8AM writing this, so huge thanks to @tusswrites for helping me edit this so quickly!! Anyways, this is my first Stray Kids story, so I really hope you enjoy it and give me some feedback~ Thank you, sweethearts <3

Network Tags: @kvanity-main  @ksmutsociety

You’d been feeling weird lately.

It was a feeling that washed over you from time to time, causing you discomfort, yet you still couldn’t place it. You tried to analyze the situation you were in when it appeared and figure out where it was coming from or what it was in general, but all your efforts were in vain. Something made you feel strange, and you didn’t know what or why.

It was definitely not the life with your new pack. You joined it 6 months ago after Chan’s vehement coaxing. You’d known him even before he became the alpha of his own pack, but after wandering around the world for several years and coming back to settle down, you found the citylife to be quite dangerous for a lone she-wolf. You didn’t want to admit that you needed protection as you were more than capable of fighting your own fights, but after being constantly harassed on the daily by cocky members of various local packs, you didn’t take much convincing. Chan was a good guy and a great laid-back leader, so you knew he didn’t offer this with any ulterior motive in mind. You’d have probably joined his pack even faster if not for one thing – it was full of men. And although you had no issues with young wolves with manners, being the only female wolf in the pack sounded questionable.

This made your mind blow up with questions and assumptions. What if they start harassing you as well? Chan would probably not allow that. What if they get overly possessive over you? You would probably not allow that either. What if you cannot handle living in the same space as them without any privacy? Well, you could always move back out… With the alpha’s permission.

Regardless of your reservations, Chan seemed relentless in his attempts to lure you in. You weren’t too surprised by that. There was a bond that alphas shared with their pack members. Whenever you meet your alpha, you feel like you are on the same wavelength. Some alphas are so in-tune with their current or potential packmates that they can even sense it when they meet their future mate. They do not know whose mate it is necessarily, but they can sense that it might be one. Not every alpha is capable of that though, although most of them can at least tell whether you are a good fit for their pack or not. Chan was quick to pass his judgement and inform you with all sincerity that you definitely belonged with his pack and had to trust his gut on this.

So, you did.

And you were completely stunned with the way it had turned out. You were guarded and cautious when you first joined. But the guys were actually so friendly and so welcoming that you felt at home mere days later. It was like they were your little brothers, whom you’d been living with your entire life. Sure, they were a bit awkward with you at first, but after the adaptation period was over, you were all set with your new family.

They took care of you, and you cared for them as well. You helped Minho and Yongbok cook dinner, bought art supplies for Hyunjin, scolded Changbin whenever he was too harsh on Han and helped them make up, looked after the maknaes and made sure they were not getting into trouble. You were also giving Chan a piece of your mind whenever he pulled all-nighters, too busy with his work, and then snapped at his poor pack members for interacting with him at the wrong time. At some point you managed to have him come back to his senses and remember to get at least 5 hours of sleep every night to prevent himself from turning into a wild beast.

Everything was going great until last week, when you finally noticed that the mood swings that bothered you for a few months now, were actually getting worse. You blamed it on the insomnia that you’d been suffering from lately. After all, you’d seen Chan becoming overly sensitive to everything after being sleep-deprived, but you had no idea what was making you so stressed. You had no issues within the pack, and your life outside was also pretty solid too. Now that you had your brothers around, no one was brave enough to walk up to you and challenge your bodily integrity unless they wanted to compromise their own. Despite you being older, your brothers took your protection seriously. When you joining the pack was not that widely known, there had been a few incidents that lead to physical altercations. And despite thinking that being told to sit down and let the boys handle this shit would make you angry, you actually felt giddy instead. They didn’t belittle your abilities in any way, but each and every one of them was the first in line to protect your honor. You appreciated their brotherly love towards you more than you’d care to admit. So much so, that you didn’t say anything to them, when their extensive protection made most wolves steer clear of you whenever they met you out and about.

And even as your behavior started to shift lately, they quickly picked up on that too. Yongbok and Changbin kept asking you if anything had happened. Minho made your favorite spicy pasta, which almost no one could handle apart from you two, and maybe Jeongin as well. Seungmin and Han tried to make you laugh with their silly antics. And yet, your bad mood did not lift for long.

Today you stayed home with Hyunjin, and he asked if you wanted to get some fresh air and join him on his way to a new art exhibition at the gallery downtown. You latched onto this opportunity to shake the dust off of yourself and maybe alter your mood with the help of this public outing, hoping that it might bring you some welcomed attention. With that in mind, you’d put a little too much effort into dressing up, which you realized only when your companion gave you a puzzled onceover. But when you asked if you looked inappropriate, he shook his head. Hyunjin wasn’t a man of many words most of the time, he only became talkative whenever he was drunk or simply in the mood for long chats. After a short ‘you look beautiful’ that made you feel a ping of this confusing emotional response inside you, he motioned for you to follow him outside.

However, after a few hours strutting from one installation to another in your incredibly unreasonable high heels, you became tired and capricious. To the point when you almost cried when Hyunjin sat you down on the bench outside one of the exhibition halls and disappeared for a few minutes, only to return with a pair of flat slippers. You whined that there was no way you would be seen next to him looking this ugly, and he hummed, crouching down in front of you and removing your shoes at once. He rummaged through his Versace bag and got a band-aid out, plastering it over an aching spot on your foot. While you were watching him, barely containing a shiver from the tickle of his breathing over your knee, he carefully inserted your feet into the slippers and grabbed your shoes in one hand, offering you to hold onto his arm. When you stood up, he couldn’t help but crack a dimpled smile, patting your head affectionately. After walking around in your insane high heels for hours, you now acutely felt how small you were next to him. It was a thought that made you flustered for no reason, so you frowned and made your way to the elevator, trying to seem like you were in a hurry to get back home.

A car ride home was unbearable. Your feelings were all over the place again. One moment you were grateful to Hyunjin for his attentiveness, the other you were mad at him for acting like your partner when he clearly wasn’t, and a second later you would be on the verge of crying for having no prospects of finding one either. Having no mate at your age was bothering you so much more than it should’ve, and at some point you managed to convince yourself that you didn’t care if you missed him earlier in life. Shit happens, you thought. Not everyone spent their lives with their mates, and even if you didn’t want to settle for less, at some point you might have to. And while considering this dreadful future, you had even decided that you would start going out with humans later. Dating a wolf who could very well meet their mate months or years down the line and becoming tossed to the side would be a traumatizing experience, so you vowed to avoid it at all costs. Even if your love life would be frowned upon by most other wolves, who did not consider humans to be valid partners.

These thoughts did not add positivity to your attitude, and by the time you came home, your mood was so sour that you barely acknowledged Jeongin in the living room, heading straight to the bathroom on your floor. You threw your clothes around as you got them off and removed your jewelry. Even wiping your makeup off was a chore that made you angry, so you stepped into the water almost boiling with frustration.

Taking an entire hour to finish your routine, you relocated to your room, throwing your pajamas on before crawling under the blanket. It was way too early to go to bed, but you hated the idea of being outside of your room when you had no grip on your emotions whatsoever. Snapping at your brothers, who were innocent in the matter, was not an option you were willing to explore. And it was not their fault that these thoughts and feelings suddenly came over you at random. So you stayed in, huffing and puffing for at least another half an hour, until you were interrupted by a knock on your door.

‘Can I come in?’ You heard Hyunjin ask from the other side of the door.

You didn’t want him to, but you also didn’t want to turn him away.

‘Come in.’

He slowly opened it, peeking inside before seeping fully into your room. His head cocked to the side as he took in your state.

‘Are you feeling well?’ He asked, approaching you carefully.

You shrugged, mumbling that you were fine. His nose twitched as he clearly checked if anything would be given away by your scent.

‘Are you sure?’ He asked, taking a seat on your bed.

It wasn’t unusual, the closeness he allowed himself, yet it made you even more unstable than you were before.

‘I don’t know, Jinnie.’ You whined, kicking the blanket up with one foot. ‘I’m a mess.’

He furrowed his thick dark eyebrows.

‘What do you mean?’

You pouted, feeling the frustration rise again.

‘I don’t know…’ You repeated, sounding like you were about to cry now.

On a whim, you scooted closer to him and threw yourself forward to hug him. Overcoming the initial shock, Hyunjin reciprocated with a tight embrace. His hands were gently patting your back, and it seemed like he had nothing against the physical contact.

‘I’m sorry,’ you muttered into his collarbone and tried to pry yourself away from him. ‘I know you don’t like skinship that much-’

‘Don’t worry about that, noona.’ He cut you off, dragging you back into himself.

You sat like that for a few minutes, and you calmed down a little, too focused on his heartbeat under your ear. There was also something else that you’d noticed.

‘Jinnie,’ you inhaled deeply. ‘You smell… nice.’

He froze, still holding you in his arms, and his Adam’s apple bobbing indicated that he was in a state of utter disarray.

‘What do you-’

The door into your room flew open, and Jeongin invited himself in.

‘Why are you making a cuddle nest without me? You know I am the best candidate to make you feel better, noona!’

He jumped on the bed, making you huff in amusement.

‘See? You’re already smiling.’ He wrapped his arms around your bicep and continued. ‘Let go of this hyung, I am all you need.’

Hyunjin raised his eyebrow, likely feeling competitive after this comment.

And for the next ten minutes, they were busy fighting for your attention.

‘It must’ve been you,’ Jeongin nagged at the older wolf. ‘She spent the whole day with you and came back angry. I am pretty sure…’

‘It’s not. I’ve been in a weird mood lately, that’s all.’

‘Oh?’ He perked up from your thigh, where he’d been resting his head. ‘Weird how? Don’t tell me-’

‘What?’ You and Hyunjin asked in unison.

‘Are you like… frustrated?’

‘I am,’ you nodded, misunderstanding his question.

‘You know what I mean? Like… sexually?’

At this, you opened your mouth, completely offended by the suggestion.

‘What the hell?’ You shoved him in the shoulder, trying to get him off of your thigh.

‘No, but that would be so great,’ he told you despite the commotion. ‘Because it’s not that hard to solve.’

‘Yeah right.’ You grumbled, making both wolves look at you. ‘What? I am not admitting to anything!’

‘You don’t have to, my face is inches away from the only thing about you that is truthful right now,’ the youngest noted without a care.

Hissing, you shoved him off, pulling the blanket over your knees again.

‘What? It’s only the truth.’ He rolled his eyes at your reaction. ‘Just get someone to fuck you and you’ll be alright.’

You sighed.

‘Yeah, ‘cause that’s so easy.’

Jeongin sat up.

‘What do you mean? If it’s not easy for you, who’s it easy for?’

‘Someone who doesn’t have a few wolf brothers to rip into anyone looking their way?’

‘We only rip into assholes who bother you,’ Hyunjin interjected.

‘Right. And the non-assholes watch that and think, ‘oh great, I’d love to hit that after they’re done with the other guy’. Sure.’

‘If they think like that they don’t need to be hitting that anyway.’ He replied curtly, and you pouted again.

‘Remind me again why you were surprised I cannot get laid?’

‘You shouldn’t give yourself over to guys like that, noona.’ Hyunjin pressed.

‘Agreed. You could always ask someone else for help. Like, I’d definitely help the hell out of you right now,’ Jeongin said, reaching your thigh with his hand and squeezing it.

‘Then you better do that, because I am already planning to get a tinder account and grab me some human!’ You suddenly confessed, startling both of the wolves.

‘You’re- what??’ Hyunjin gasped in your ear.

‘I didn’t think you were actually that desperate, noona…’ Jeongin muttered, licking his lips. ‘But I can deliver on my offer, if you really mean it.’

You swallowed under the scrutiny of the two pairs of eyes, and leaned back into Hyunjin, suddenly feeling weak from the stress of it. In any other state you might’ve been able to think it through and decline. But right now you suddenly had no care for the consequences of your actions.

‘Do it.’ You exhaled, watching the youngest wolf purse his lips to contain his excitement.

Before you allowed yourself to think about the current chain of events, you grabbed Hyunjin’s arms and wrapped them tighter around your frame. For some reason, you didn’t want him to go either.

‘Are you sure about this?’ He asked in your ear, and you shivered from his hot breath.

You turned to give him a reassuring nod.

‘It’s easy to give into temptation when you’re vulnerable. We can’t take advantage of that,’ he continued, brushing a strand of your hair to the side.

You felt overwhelmed by his comment, but then the youngest inserted himself into this exchange.

‘Are you that scared of Chan?’ He chuckled.

‘Chan? What does he have to do with anything?’ You asked in confusion, while they were throwing daggers at each other with their eyes.

‘Because hyung told us in graphic terms that he’d rip our faces off if we tried to coerce you into something like that.’

‘What the hell??’

‘My thoughts exactly. I think you’re the one coercing me into getting down for you, noona,’ he smiled, playing with the hem of your pajama shorts.

‘Why would he say that though?’ You asked Hyunjin this time.

‘I don’t know. I guess he didn’t want you to be uncomfortable around us?’

That made sense, sort of. But you weren’t sure if that was simply due to your reluctance about joining an all-male pack, or if there was something else going on. Jeongin’s hand dipping between your thighs disrupted your already flailing thought process.

Hyunjin growled lowly, warning him, and he looked at you for approval.

‘Take them off,’ you told him, and he smiled, tugging your shorts off immediately.

‘Noona…’ Hyunjin protested hoarsely, but you squeezed his forearm.

‘I am the one initiating this. Forget whatever Chan told you.’

‘It’s not about what-’

‘I want you here. Do you want to stay?’ You asked him, and his grip on you tightened, as if you could kick him out for real.

‘Yes.’

‘Then stop nagging. And kiss me.’

He looked down at your mouth and swallowed, leaning in.

‘Shit noona, you are soaked…’ The youngest distracted both of you with his eagerness. ‘Do you always wear such skimpy underwear at home? I could fuck you without taking it off.’

Before you answered, he pulled the item of clothing to the side and ran two fingers between your wet folds. Without wasting anymore time for chitchat, he leaned in, attaching his lips to your pussy.

‘Ah fuck!’ You jolted, steadied by the arms around you.

In fact, Hyunjin’s iron hold made it even more egregious.

Jeongin made it known that he was enjoying himself, humming into you as he licked and sucked your sensitive flesh. You could feel his spit drip down to your hole, and clenched around nothing, clawing at Hyunjin’s forearm.

‘Innie, shit…’ You cursed, looking down at his fluffy head between your legs.

He seemed pleased by the feedback he was receiving, so he started alternating between various techniques. When he switched to quick sharp licks up your slit, you started shaking.

You threw your head back, bumping into Hyunjin’s shoulder. He was still tense, and you turned your head to inhale his familiar scent that calmed you down before.

‘Jinnie, please touch me,’ you begged, trying to move one of his hands onto your breast.

His nose brushed against yours, and you felt his plush lips connect with the corner of your mouth. Grabbing him by the hair on the back of his head, you pushed him closer. He growled, mouth crashing on yours, and slipped his tongue inside it aggressively. When you felt his hand sneak under your pajama top to grab your boob, you whimpered loudly. His other hand pressed down on your belly, and Jeongin suddenly flicked your clit with his tongue, sucking it into his mouth harshly.

You cried out, trembling in Hyunjin’s grasp. You were too sensitive to withstand such an attack.

‘Innie, don’t stop- I’m-’ You sobbed, grabbing onto Hyunjin’s hand over your breast. ‘I’m cumming-’

The older one bit onto your ear gently before giving it a short lick, and your eyes rolled back into your head. Jeongin was still assaulting your nub, and your long animalistic wail was probably heard outside.

You were still breathless when you felt someone lift your hips, removing your underwear.

‘Give her a break,’ you heard Hyunjin say sternly.

You squeezed his bicep, causing him to divert his attention.

‘Don’t,’ you shook your head weakly. ‘I want to.’

Just a moment later, you felt Jeongin prod at your entrance. You whined as he inserted himself into you, barely having enough time to adjust before he began rutting into you.

‘Fuck, noona… You have a- a perfect pussy,’ he noted, sounding strained. ‘Ah shit-’

Despite being just a year apart with Hyunjin, Innie was still quite young and impressionable. You could tell how overly excited and aroused he got from going down on you, and you felt it in his abrupt thrusts that he was not going to last at all. But you didn’t mind.

You panted, the aftershocks of your previous release rekindling by the continuous slapping of skin against your pussy, and Jeongin began fucking you even harder.

But at this point you got too distracted by the heavy breathing in your ear. Hyunjin wasn’t even the one inside you, and yet, he was still the one making you go insane. You wanted to cry from his proximity, because he was close but still not close enough.

You squeezed his thigh and moved your palm to the side, finding his long, hard cock.

‘Jinnie…’ You mumbled, frantically shoving your hand down his pants.

His hips jerked forward as you grabbed his thick flesh.

You desperately, desperately wanted him inside. And he knew.

‘Don’t cum inside her,’ he told the younger one, who was definitely close to his orgasm, and shoved him with his foot.

You felt him slip out, cursing his hyung, who quickly flipped you around. Jeongin tugged your hips up to put you on all fours, and shoved himself inside you again. Your face was pressed to Hyunjin’s flexing abs while he fucked you from behind feverishly. With all the thoughts vanishing from your dazed brain, you resorted to kissing and licking the skin over his taut stomach and using your nails to leave shallow marks as he stroked your head slowly. The maknae’s fingers dug deeper into the supple flesh of your thighs as he came to the verge of his release.

‘Did you hear what I said?’ Hyunjin suddenly growled, loud and clear this time. ‘Get your ass over there and watch.’

Your skin was all covered in goosebumps from the commanding tone of his voice. You wanted him to use it on you as well, just so that you could defy him. Fuck around and find out.

But Jeongin was a good boy, so he did as he was told. As soon as he slipped out, you got pulled up the bed again. Hyunjin put almost his entire weight onto your back, making your elbows and knees give out. That seemed to be exactly what he wanted, and his dick slipped into your tight hole easily while you were lying flat on the bed. You moaned as his body moved in a wave-like motion, merging with yours completely. It wasn’t clear whether Hyunjin was that much bigger than Jeongin, or it was the position adding to it, but you felt so full that it made your pussy quiver helplessly.

‘Please, Jinnie…’ You whined, as his hips continued to snap forward. ‘Make me cum…’

He quickly pulled out, rolling you over like a ragdoll, and folded you in half, continuing to pound you into the mattress. You heard Jeongin moan from his spot on the chair, where he was watching you from. But you were too engaged to even try and pay attention to him, although you were sure that he was jerking himself off right now.

Hyunjin was destroying your pussy with methodical slaps, and you felt your big orgasm build again. You were going to cum so hard, you just knew it.

‘Mhm, deeper…’ You pleaded, your vision blurring as he hit so deep that your pleasure was beginning to hurt.

‘Do you want- want me to- want my cum?’ He asked, not slowing down at all.

‘Fuck, Jinnie…’

You trashed underneath him, causing him to let go of your legs, unfolding you, and lie on top of you. His pelvis snapped back-and-forth fluidly, and you made eye contact, catching his feral gaze that likely mirrored your own.

‘Fill me…’ You choked on your words. ‘Fuck, I want it- inside me-’

As your orgasm washed over your body, you completely lost it. All control over your actions slipped away from you, and you bit into his flesh that was closest to you, piercing his bicep with your teeth. You pulled back almost immediately, but before you could say anything, Hyunjin reciprocated, grabbing your arm and sinking his own teeth into your wrist.

With the added tinge of pain, you were still shaking violently when his cum flooded your insides. You wailed and screamed every time he thrusted, with his skin slapping against yours, until his cum started gushing out of you. When he stilled, you were on the verge of losing consciousness. The tightness in your hole kept you there, and you swallowed the salty taste of his blood, slowly realizing what just happened.

‘Dammit, hyung! You knotted her?’ You heard Jeongin come to his senses before you two.

‘Fuck off.’

Hyunjin didn’t sound like he’d let anyone mess with him right now, and it sent a tight pulse through your core. He watched Jeongin flee the room as he ran his tongue over his teeth, obviously aware of your body’s reactions to him. Licking his bloody red lips, he sobered himself up.

‘You fucking marked me,’ he told you, as if you didn’t already know.

‘I didn’t- didn’t mean to-’ You tried to justify breathlessly, fidgeting slightly. ‘It just felt so good that I…’

‘Stop talking. I can’t move, and you make me want to rip into you all over again.’

You pursed your lips as your pussy quivered around his rock hard knot once more, making your eyes tear up. Everything about him was sending you into overdrive, and you had no idea what to do with yourself. It suddenly dawned on you that this was exactly what you wanted this entire time, and you had no idea that it was making you frustrated. Not even realizing that your mate was right next door, quite literally. You could’ve had him months ago, but you were too preoccupied by other things in life like trying to build a family bond with your new pack to see what fell right into your lap, quite literally. The only wolf you needed.

‘J-Jinnie…’

His eyebrows were furrowed in concentration as he held his hips steady.

‘Baby. If you move even an inch-’ He sighed, pressing his forehead to yours. ‘If you cum again, it will only prolong this…’

‘But I- I want to!’ You whined, wiggling your hips. ‘Please, it’s so big…’

‘No.’

‘Hyunjin!’

‘I said no.’

The authority in his voice made your toes curl.

‘Fuck,’ he growled, jerking forward involuntarily as he felt you fall apart again. ‘You’re not gonna stop until you get yourself pregnant, are you?’

You sobbed, unable to snatch yourself out of the excruciatingly long orgasm.

Hyunjin pressed as deep into you as he could, trying to hold you completely still, and the tip of his cock brushed against your cervix. At this point you simply blacked out from the intensity of the pleasure, regaining your perception of reality only when your partner’s girth finally began deflating in your overstimulated pussy.

‘Are you back?’ He asked, voice a bit gruff but not low and menacing anymore.

It made warmth spread out in your chest as you nodded.

‘Does anything hurt?’

You shook your head first, and then nodded after noticing his expression.

‘It must hurt. I told you not to move, baby.’ Although he was admonishing you, it didn’t stop him from pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. ‘Give me a couple more minutes and it’ll be done.’

‘Okay,’ you mumbled, not that eager to let him go – he was your newly found mate, after all.

But your fragile intimacy was crushed by the loud voices in the hallway.

‘What the fuck did I tell you all about doing shit like that to her? I don’t care who-’

Chan burst through the door, stopping in his tracks.

‘Are you still going at it?!’ He asked, not fazed by the fact that Hyunjin was naked and on top of you.

After he tugged the blanket up to cover your bodies fully and turned to face his alpha, Chan gasped.

‘Don’t tell me- it’s you, isn’t it?? She’s your mate, right?’ He sounded more excited than angry now. ‘I knew it! I told you that you absolutely had to join-’

‘Hyung,’ Hyunjin cleared his throat, not even trying to sound apologetic. ‘We’re otherwise preoccupied, as you might see.’

Thankfully, he couldn’t see under the covers, and your mate’s body also shielded yours from the other wolf’s eyes, but you were still dying of embarrassment.

‘Oh- right. Wait, are you locked- You know what, nevermind. Keep going. I mean, finish up. I mean-’

‘Oh gosh, Chanie hyung!’ Yongbok groaned, grabbing him by the wrist and tugging him into the hallway before shutting the door. ‘Let them be.’

As their voices became less and less distinguishable, Hyunjin looked into your eyes, seemingly reading your thoughts.

‘No, he’s never going to shut up about it,’ he replied before you asked. ‘But I’m still grateful that he convinced you to join the pack. Thank you for taking him up on his offer.’

His last words made him tense, thinking back to someone else you took up on his offer.

‘You’re going to snap Innie’s neck, aren’t you?’

‘You’re fucking right.’

‘Jinnie…’

Masterlist

A/N: Ahhh, this hot mess of a trio... I hope you enjoyed this little fun ride! Please comment and reblog, I really appreciate your feedback💜 And as usual, my asks are open~

[thexsilentxwordsmith]

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!Reader

Simon making it clear that you are the only one he wants

“You alright, sweetheart?” Simon’s deep, gruff voice hit your ears, pulling your out of your thoughts. 

You nodded without a sound, subtly trying to divert your gaze so that he wouldn’t look into your eyes and see all the emotion swimming inside, but at this point you really didn’t need to answer the question. The way you sit across from him with your brow furrowed into two steep peaks and your shoulders slumped forward and tight as you idly picked at the skin around your fingernails was enough of a sign. Even though you tried to dismiss him with a few muttered “I’m fine” and “It’s nothing” phrases, the man knew; whatever it was had been eating away at you for some time. 

Turning his full attention to you he took your chin into his coarse grasp and tilted your head upward until your eyes met. “Then why can’t ya even look at me?” he posed his next question. 

You let out a sigh, nowhere to run now as Simon wasn’t gonna let you back out. “It’s just…silly...” 

An incident had been on your mind for a week now, something that should have been resolved already, but try as you might to let it go it just couldn’t be shaken. A new younger female recruit had got it into her head that she wanted a piece of the huge, mysterious Lieutenant and began to flaunt that young, supple body in his direction. Simon had not allowed it to continue for even a second after that initial encounter, making sure that you knew everything in detail, and immediately she was reprimanded and reassigned, but the damage had been done to your confidence.

Were you really right for him? Were you enough? You had never really thought of yourself as ugly, but when pitted up against some pretty thing that had the freshness of young beauty on her side, you weren’t so sure if you could really compare and that made your usual abundance of self-confidence drop to nearly zero. 

Amber eyes gazed back at you as Simon waited patiently for your reply. Taking a deep, calming breath you continued. “I guess I just can’t help but wonder if you made the right choice,” you said.

“And what choice is that, hmm?” he pushed, letting you use your words even though he was sure where this was headed.

“Choosing me,” you said so softly it was barely above a whisper.

Just as he suspected, it was still bothering you and he kicked himself for not doing more before now to show you that there was no one on base or even in the whole fucking world that could compare to what he had with you. There was no one up until now that had ever kept him so tightly wound as you did that he constantly felt like he couldn't get you out of his head, that he never could get enough of you; it was a constant struggle just to keep sane so that he could do his job when he knew what would be waiting for him when he got home.

That’s why it took nothing for him to know exactly what it was that he needed to do now.

Without a word the grip on your chin was released as Simon stood to his feet. He reached down and took a hold of your hand, giving it a good, solid tug. “Come on,” he beckoned with a nod of his head to stand with him and through a bit of stubborn reluctance, you followed.

As soon as you were on your feet he pulled you into his hard, warm chest, leaning his head in close until you could feel his breath against your lips. “Of all the fuckin' mistakes I've made in my life, ya ain't one of 'em. I think someone needs a bit of extra attention, and I was a fuckin' fool waitin' till now to give it to her,” he murmured, his voice lowering into that register that always sent shivers down your spine. “Let me take care of ya, let me turn that brain of yours off for a bit and show ya how sure I am that I made the right choice.”

Before you could answer, his lips had already connected with your own to steal the words right out of your mouth. If there was one thing that experienced military man was superior at it was making you come apart at the seams like it was his fucking job. And boy did he take pride in his work.

But right here and now he would be even more meticulous in his affections as it was clear you needed to be reminded that you and only you were the best goddamn thing to grace his miserable existence. All of his undivided attention would be yours tonight and he would not stop until every single worry had left that pretty little head.

Promises were breathed into your mouth by him. "I'm not stoppin' until ya know just how fuckin' much I don't want anyone else besides ya."

In a flurry of lips and tangled limbs, you found your way over to the bed. Like a surgeon performing a delicate operation, he carefully removed each article of your clothing one by one, making sure that the exposed skin was immediately caressed and attended to before he moved on to the next. Every inch of skin on you would feel the passion in his embrace. By the time you hit the mattress’ surface, your body was already a tingling mess of nerve ends bursting to life in ways that made your mind numb.

The lights had been turned down low, their soft incandescent glow warm and inviting as the breathy sounds of unspoken desires from a man consumed filled the air. It was hard to think of anything as the thick tension permeated the space while you lay there naked sprawled out across the sheets with Simon at your side. Adoration was what he was after tonight, needing you to be left as nothing more than a puddle of pure bliss in the middle of his bed.

Toughened fingers traced all of those subtle imperfections lining your body with such tenderness as if each scar and blemish and indention were incredibly precious to him; his lips followed not far behind as he whispered praises into your skin. Those gentle words that were only for your ears alone as he couldn’t have people thinking he was going soft…even though he absolutely had been since the moment he got with you.

“How could ya ever think I would want anythin’ other than this, other than ya?" he breathed the question into the skin of your torso. “You're all I could ever want, all I fuckin’ think about; the best goddamn thing to ever happen to me. My pretty girl.” 

His nose nuzzled against the crook of your neck and he caught that scent: the smell of your body’s natural musk that just one whiff of could make his head fuzzy and his body tingle in a way he could not describe. All those beautifully fragrant notes that combined together to create a profile that was distinct to you so that even if he couldn’t see you he knew you were near. Closing his eyes, he breathed you in deep.

“Christ, you’re so fuckin’ beautiful, sweetheart,” he purred into the warm skin of your shoulder before he was on the move, lips caressing over the swell of your breasts with nipples already stiff. “I just can’t ever get enough of ya. How could ya ever fuckin' think I'd give up all this for some young tart who'd get sick 'a me sooner rather than later? Fuck, you’re all I want, all I'll eva fuckin' need.”

Down, down, down he continued over the length of your stomach towards your thighs. It was like performing a sacred act, him giving you the full breadth of his overwhelming desire as he made his way from your lips to your legs, getting everything in between. He shot a hungry glance back up at you as he reached those pillowy creations that he loved so much.

He sighed. "Every inch of ya is like a goddamn dream."

Extra time he spent on your thighs as he embraced those voluptuous curves over and over again with his mouth, kissing and sucking, running his nose along them until you were whining and writhing beneath him. Shit, he had not even touched anywhere near your throbbing clit yet and still you could not stop the way your heart pounded out of your chest or your short, sticcatoed breathing that filled the silence. 

“Please,” the plea fell from your open mouth, but there was no need to beg. This was your night after all and he was not about to deny you of anything.

"Whatever my pretty girl wants she's gonna fuckin' get," he smiled. "Always."

Slowly Simon’s large hands spread you open just wide enough that he could lean his face into your mossy bank. More delicate kisses were dotted over your petals, his mouth embracing all around that tender slit before his tongue gently slipped inside the folds. All that doting on your body had done it’s job in stimulating so that he was met with a wetness on his tongue as he dived in. 

Shit were you sweet, like eating a peach except this one would not run out before he had gotten his fill. 

That masterful tongue drew short, concise circles around your clit, lips locking around the bud intermittently to suck, using the two techniques in tandem while his nails drug lightly over your thighs until your were bucking against his face. There was no rush in his movements; he was going to take his time in drawing out your pleasure. 

You couldn’t make a sound, your mind consumed completely with every flick of his tongue, every press of it firmly against you, every pass of his hands over your thighs; overstimulated doesn’t even begin to describe it. Eyes closed, mouth wide open, desperate music being moaned into the room was all you could muster as he brought you closer and closer to the precipice of your pleasure. 

Leisurely Simon lapped at your clit, no rush, no hurry, with measured strokes that eased you pleasantly into your orgasm instead of violently throwing you over. You came so effortlessly that you are able to ride out that wave of ecstasy for minutes as his pace stayed at that steady rhythm until there was no more left for you to give. Only then did he emerge like a man baptized anew. 

By the time he finally thrust inside you, you were a glorious mess of sweat and mewls and cum. He took you right on your back, needing to see that look in your eyes that made him feel like he was your whole world. No muscle-straining positions will he put you in tonight as all he wants is to gaze down at the most beautiful creature he’s ever laid eyes on. 

“Do ya think I have any doubts now?” he asked with a muted smile. "Think I could do this with just anyone?"

Your cheeks, already warm and pink, flushed bright crimson. “No,” you shook your head.

“That's a good girl,” he praised as he adjusted your legs to be comfortable around his thick torso. “Then let’s finish this off right, yeah? You and me, sweetheart.”

Slow, even thrusts he pounded into you, stretching you and filling you full even at this angle, as he met your lips again to nearly choke you on all his passion. You could taste yourself on his breath as he claimed you body and soul. 

“Ya feel so fuckin’ good, just wanna stay buried in ya all the time,” he groaned between precise thrusts through your tight, moist core. Your body was paradise and he could not get enough. Pulling back he watched the connection of your bodies right at the point where he slipped inside of you. You were so full of him there was no distinction between where he ended and you began.

Simon was never a religious man, most of the time as far from it as humanly possible, but the closest he would ever come to faith was the moment he got his first feel of all that glory that first time you two went at it. It was then that your body became his church and from then on he was more than ready to give his life to worshiping at your alter with his fingers and tongue and cock; any and all instruments at his disposal to show you his unwavering devotion. 

That man had been starved for far longer than he would like to admit, but the first time he buried himself in you that was all it took to fill him up. It was only you that he craved: your softness and warmth and light and no one else would ever do. As much as you were his, he was yours.

His hands ran up the sides of your torso, leaving burning trails that made you shiver as he palmed both of your breasts in each one of his hands to massage the flesh. “I want ya to come for me again,” he said, more need in his voice. “Can ya do that for me pretty girl?”

Rapidly you nodded your head up and down as you focused on what was coming.

“That’s it; wanna be sure my girl gets everything she needs to stay satisfied with me.”

There was a feeling of safety and security that you got when you were with him; no matter how rough or passionate the sex got, Simon was always right there with you in the moment so that you never felt that it was one sided. Right now that feeling spread through you along with the gathering warmth in your abdomen to help you get out of your head and let go. All those worries, all those fears, they left completely as he thrust inside you a few more times and you spilled over the edge once more.

He kissed you hard on the mouth, holding your raw lips together once more as he followed right after you. His shoulder shook as his released himself and fell into that high that he would never tire of- not when it was with you. As he let go of your lips, he smiled back down at you; that glow of ecstasy causing his heart to skip a beat.

“Ya see, there’s no one in this whole fuckin’ world I want more than ya, sweetheart,” he whispered into your temple before placed a quick kiss. “And I am always willin’ to show ya that you are the only girl for me.”

[bloodrvvvsh]

Needs Me When He’s All Alone. | Post-Prison!Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Synopsis: You and Spencer had broken up long ago — his work kept him too busy for a relationship, is what he told you. Now, several years later, when your paths cross again because you take a job as his boss's assistant, the feelings you both had buried seem to be rekindled.

Pairing: Ex-Boyfriend!Post-prison!Spencer Reid x Fem!Assistant!Reader

Warnings: Unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it, babes), p in v sex, rough hate sex, dom!Spencer, sub!brat!Reader, afab + fem!Reader, hints at some sort of rivarly (kinda) between Spencer and Emily, face fucking, spit/drool, spanking, face slapping, very sloppy and messy fingering, hair pulling, hand around the throat (no choking), dacryphilia, lots and lots of biting, back scratching, marking, orgasm denial, praise, degradation, name calling (slut, whore, prick, asshole) + pet names (princess, baby, pretty girl, sweetheart, good girl), creampie

Word count: 4.4K

Notes: Another PWP from me, who’s surprised. Anyways enjoy and stream Starfucker by Slayyyter ✨

It would be a lie to say you hadn’t thought about Spencer Reid since your breakup.

You tried not to think about him, but it was impossible to when you were still so hopelessly hung up on him. It was almost pathetic with the way you were always mentally comparing your dates to him, or spending the day dreaming about him and his big hands and big.. other things.

It was even worse when you considered the way he decided to dump you, too. Some excuse about his work keeping him too busy to maintain a relationship. What kind of a reason is that? It’s not like you ever minded when he was away on long cases, it just made the reunion all the more sweeter in your opinion.

But it wasn’t good enough for Spencer, apparently. You were not good enough Dr. Spencer Reid. 

Or, at least, that's what you told yourself when your mind wandered a little too far a little too late at night. It was the same thought that had been cycling through your mind for the past five years. Why else would he dump you for some lame ass reason after nearly three years of dating?

That was the past, though. You were moving on and moving forward. There were more things in life than an ex-boyfriend who happened to be really great at the time. The world didn’t end five years like you might have thought, the earth continued to turn and you continued to wake up every morning.

Today was a day you actually woke up with a sense of excitement bubbling inside your chest. Today was the first day of your new job. You had always preferred the quiet hustle of office jobs and this job was exactly that. 

While some might be intimidated by the idea of working for the FBI, you really didn’t mind it. It wasn’t like you were going out on the field every day. You were just an assistant, and you were fine with that. Living in DC, it was a little hard to escape all things governmental and the like, so really it was just another Monday for you.

You watched as the numbers on the elevator ticked by as you rose up. Tucked in the crook of your elbow was a manila envelope and a coffee in your hand. Your free hand fell to the hem of your skirt, tugging on it slightly to hopefully provide some more coverage to your body. The skirt was a little short, but you had paired it with some black pantyhoses to - quite literally - cover your ass. You weren’t sure how well it was actually working, though.

The elevator dinged with the arrival of you to your floor. You let a deep breath out through your mouth before you stepped out. Your heels clicked on the floor, hurriedly trying to make your way across the bullpen and to your new boss’s office like requested.

You had crossed the bullpen with seemingly no problem and you were just about to step onto the stairs when a familiar call of your name had your blood running cold.

“Y/N?” A pit settled in your stomach, dark and cold and full of horrible feelings when Spencer’s voice hit your ears. You swallowed. You turned your head slowly, like you were expecting him to disappear before you looked fully behind you.

But no luck. There he was, in all his glory. Although, he looked very different to the last time you had seen him. He seemed to have ditched his old cardigans and sweaters for tailored suits. His hair was longer, messier, and stubble grew across his face. 

Unfortunately for you, he looked even hotter than before.

And even though he looked so different, so unlike the sweet and dorky Spencer you used to date, now looking more like the gruff FBI agent he truly was, there was still a softness to his deep brown eyes that told you this was the same old Spencer Reid you couldn’t get your mind off of.

“Spencer,” you sighed. God, why did he have to be so beautiful still? “What are you doing here?”

“I work here,” he said with a raise of his eyebrow. Mentally you cursed yourself. How could you possibly forget? You were too starstruck to even think properly in that moment. “What are you doing here?”

“I also work here.” You shifted uncomfortably on your feet. You watched his gaze flit up and down your body and suddenly you were too well aware of your outfit choices when he lingered on your thighs. You should have just worn pants, but no, you wanted to look cute for your first day.

For a moment, the two of you could only stare at each other in silence. What could you possibly say after your last interaction being a shitty breakup? And just as you were about to say something, another voice cut in.

“Y/N!” Emily called out cheerfully. A sense of relief washed over you at the sight of her, your whole body relaxing. You nodded your head at her, bending slightly at the knees to give a half-assed bow.

“Emily,” you murmured. You held out the envelope and cup of coffee to her, giving a little smile when she took them into her own hands. 

Emily’s attention turned to Spencer and you were almost certain there was some hint of smugness in her eyes. “I see you’ve met my new assistant,” she said with a hand falling to your back, giving it a soft pat. Spencer’s eyes narrowed.

His fingers curled tighter around the satchel slung across his body and you noticed a flicker of something - anger? jealousy? - in his eyes. “I have met her,” was all he said, his tone suddenly turning very curt. 

You didn’t know what they were doing, what sort of mind games they were playing, and you weren’t sure how to feel about being a pawn caught in between it all. The air was thick, tense, nearly electric. Like they were two live wires waiting for a spark. You could feel the prickle of the hair on the back of your neck standing on end.

You cleared your throat, running your hand down the front of your skirt to rid yourself of your sweaty palms. “I, uh. I’m gonna.. go get some more case files that need to be sorted.” The minute the words left your mouth, you were already making a beeline to simply get out of there.

~

The rest of the day seemed to move by fairly smoothly. No more incidents between Spencer and Emily (to your knowledge) and you didn’t have to see Spencer again. A perfect day in your book.

You were actually almost finished with the day. You only had a few cases to be printed and sorted away, and then you were free to leave. Most had already left for the day, leaving the office vacant and eerily quiet. You didn’t mind it, though. Sometimes that was better, no distractions from finishing up the last few things before you clocked out.

You stood at the coping machine, your back to the door, when you heard it creak open. You didn’t think much of it, it was a busy office, after all, and plenty of people used the copier room. You didn’t even think to look behind you to see who it was. Your mind was one track at this point, just looking to finish your tasks and go home.

You should have known better.

You knew it was too late when you felt a broad chest being pressed to your back. A warm breath fanned over your ear as large hands that you knew too well roamed your sides. It was pure instinct the way your body melted into his touch, a sigh full of wanton desires wafting from your lips.

You felt weak. You were weak. In that moment, you were nothing more than a mammal with the primal need to procreate. 

Your head fell to the side, leaning back to rest on Spencer’s shoulder, baring your neck to him, submitting to him like the weak little thing you both knew you were. God, you were really going to hate yourself when this was all over. You were already starting to feel that bubble of anger and hatred forming in your chest, creeping up your throat and burning like bile in your mouth.

Your hands snapped over his, stilling his movements. His lips hovered over your neck, mere inches from your pulse point. “You are such a prick,” you bit out. You sounded breathless, needy. 

You tugged at his fingers, trying to pry them off your body. You spun in his arms, turning to face him. His pupils were dilated, swallowing his irises whole and making them more akin to black holes than the warm brown eyes you used to love. His hair was a mess, like he had been running his fingers through it too many times, his tie askew. Your eyes narrowed. 

“You must have something wrong with you if you think I’m going to sleep with you after what you put through,” you hissed at him. You pressed yourself against the copier machine, trying to create some semblance of distance between the two of you, and crossed your arms tight over your chest.

“After what I put you through?” Spencer echoed almost incredulously. He had to be playing dumb, because you knew he was the farthest thing from stupid.

You scoffed. “You broke up with me with some lame ass excuse, and then you never bothered to talk to me again!” You could not believe him in that moment. It was like he was purposefully trying to piss you off.

“Y/N-” 

“Do not “Y/N” me,” you spit out like the words were venom in your mouth. “I am not your girlfriend, and just because I now work at the BAU too doesn’t mea-”

Spencer’s lips were crashing against yours before you could even finish your sentence. He always kissed like a man starved, like he was trying to consume you whole. You whimpered against his mouth, hands flying to grasp onto his wrists while his hands cradled your face.

The kiss grew even more passionate, somehow, becoming a mashing of lips and teeth and breathless moans and animalistic growls. You missed this - missed the intense fire Spencer lit in you, the passion that he brought into everything he did.

His hands flew down to the hem of your skirt, quickly hitching it up as you both stumbled around the room, barely breaking your kissing to catch your breaths. He hooked his hands under your thighs, hoisting you up onto a nearby table. You instantly spread your legs, inviting him in without so much another thought. He quickly shed his suit jacket, tossing it aside to some random part of the room.

Then you heard a distinct rip of fabric. You pulled away from Spencer’s addictive lips, pressing your hands on his chest and forcing him to let in some room between the two of you. You glanced down to see a huge tear on your tights and you gasped.

“You ripped my tights?!” you shrieked, landing a smack to his chest.

“Keep it up, and I’ll rip your panties, too,” he growled and you hated that the deep timbre of his voice sent flashes of arousal straight to your core. He didn’t miss the way you clenched your thighs together. He weaved a hand into your hair and curled his fingers around the strands of your hair, giving it a good tug to force you to bear your neck to him once more.

He pressed wet and sloppy kisses to the junctions of your neck, nipping at the neck, making you gasp and squirm. He pushed your panties to the side, not bothering to even pull them halfway. He plunged two fingers in, knowing you could handle it. You gasped even louder when he filled you so suddenly, your back arching into the feeling.

“You’re so wet for me,” Spencer murmured against your sweaty skin. The thrust of his fingers were hard, fast, making your head spin with arousal. You couldn’t remember the last time you had sex, let alone sex this hedonistic, but god, were you loving it. His fingers were so long, hitting all the right places in you without even trying. “You missed me, didn’t you?”

You hated profilers, and you especially hated Spencer Reid. “Screw you,” you hissed. You didn’t even notice when his hand seemed to have fallen to your ass, but you definitely felt the hard smack of it connecting with your flesh.

“What do you think I’m trying to do, princess?” He punctuated his words with another hard swat to your ass and a nip to the neck. You moaned at both sensations, grinding into the fingers deep inside you. “I don’t remember you being such a brat when we dated..”

“I don’t remember you being such an asshole,” you retorted. Another smack, another gasp from you. You glared at him.

Spencer’s fingers picked up pace, moving in and out of you in an almost messy and uncoordinated fashion, his thumb rubbing fast circles on your clit. The sloppy sounds of his fingers thrusting and your moans filled the air, creating a dizzying erotic symphony. 

“You never answered my question,” he breathed out. He moved his lips to your ear, teeth grazing along the shell. “Did you miss me?”

“No,” you lied right through your teeth and you both knew it. He delivered another spank to your ass, making you squeak at how sensitive you apparently becoming with his spankings.

“There’s no need to lie.” He bit down on your earlobe and you keened right as his fingers angled perfectly to hit your G-spot. He pulled back to look you in the eye, smirking at the sight of you unraveling under his fingers. “You missed me, and you missed my dick, like the stupid little slut you are.”

The Spencer you used to know, the man you loved, would have never called you any sort of name, not even bed. Hearing that word tumbling out of his lips had you clenching hard around his fingers and whining loud, eyes squeezing shut as your stomach twisted into knots.

“Admit it, Y/N,” he whispered in a husky voice, “Admit you missed me fucking you.”

“Fuck you.” More smacks to the ass. Three in the row this time, not even giving you time to recover. Each was harder than the less, leaving your skin tingling.

Spencer retracted his fingers from your messy cunt, making you whine at the loss of feeling full for the first time in far too long. “Open,” he commanded and you obeyed, much to your own disgust. His finger plunged into your mouth and you wrapped your lips around them without another word.

You licked them clean, tasting yourself, all the while maintaining eye contact with his intense stare. He pulled his fingers out from your mouth as fast as he did with your cunt. He cupped your cheek in his palm, gently caressing your supple skin. Then he delivered a hard smack to your cheek.

Your head snapped to the right and you gasped, hand automatically flying to your stinging cheek. You couldn’t believe him. And you couldn’t believe yourself for getting even wetter from it all.

Before you could react any further, his hand was tangling back in your hair, pulling harshly to drag you to your knees. He made quick work of his belt and unbuttoned his pants, fishing his hard dick out of its confines. Your mouth watered at the sight. It was so big, so pretty with its pale pink head and veins trailing along the sides.

Spencer chuckled at the hungry look in your eyes. “You missed this, didn’t you, baby?” he cooed at you. You found yourself nodding your head. He wrapped a hand around his cock, giving it a few lazy tugs. His thumb swiped at the tip, smearing the pre-cum gathering with a soft hiss.

He hovered it over your lips, teasing you. And in that moment, you weren’t above whining, which is exactly what you did. “Poor baby missed choking on my big dick, didn’t she?” Fake sympathy dripped from his words, making you feel oh-so dizzy and small. You nodded your head again, more frantically and desperate this time.

“Go ahead,” he urged, reaching a hand to the back of your head and pushing you forward, “Suck it, pretty girl.” 

You didn’t need to be told twice. You braced your palms on his thighs as you stuck your tongue out, flickering it over the tip of Spencer’s cock. His fingers carded through your hair and you nearly melted.

You licked a broad stride along the underside of his dick and you shivered at the groan you earned in response. You took the tip into your mouth, hollowing your cheeks around him as you made your way down his cock.

“Fuck,” Spencer breathed out. His eyes fluttered shut, hips involuntarily rocking into your throat. He’d never admit it himself, but nothing could compare to your sweet mouth. He had spent more than a few countless nights dreaming about it wrapped around him once more.

You took his little curse and movements as encouragement, swallowing even more of him. You could never quite fit the entirety of him in your mouth, but it never stopped you from trying. 

Spencer took a fistful of your locks in his hand, tugging hard at the strands, and you winced at the pain radiating from your scalp. Lust flared down your spine, electrifying your body as he forced his cock all the way in your mouth. You choked around the intruding object in your throat, contracting around him and making him moan.

“That’s it, sweetheart,” he crooned. His other hand cupped your face, thumb stroking your cheek as your eyes watered. He brushed away a tear that spilled down with a grin full of sadistic glee. “You look so pretty like this.. Your mouth has better uses than being a brat, don’t you think, pretty girl?”

He pulled you off his cock, leaving you to gag and heave heavy breaths. He clicked his tongue, faux pouting down at you. “Can’t handle it?” He didn’t give you any time to respond before he was pulling back down on his dick, pushing your head down until his pubes tickled your nose. “That’s too fucking bad.”

He repeated his motions, thrusting into your mouth violently until you got that dazed look in your eyes. Drool spilled from the corners of your lips and all over his cock. Praises from his lips, creating a chorus between his groans and moans of pure pleasure.

When you felt like you were seriously going to lose your mind from lack of oxygen, Spencer pulled out finally. You panted, dizzy and delirious, but so fucking horny. You whimpered when he guided you away from his dick, your bottom lip sticking out in a genuine pout.

He spun you around before you bending over the same table from earlier. You gasped, a sense of excitement bubbling in your stomach when you realized what was to come. His hands fell to your hips and you pushed your ass back against him, wiggling it with a pitiful whine. You glanced back at him over your shoulder and you were sure that you looked like some sort of pathetic slut, but you couldn’t even bring yourself to care.

“Someone’s eager,” Spencer remarked with a chuckle. But he was just as ready to screw your brains out. 

He guided his cock to your soaking wet folds, taking a moment to smear your wetness around with his tip, up until you started whining again. He chuckled once more before finally entering you. 

Your jaw fell slack as his cock entered you, stretching you to your limits. He was so fucking big, stretching you so deliciously and filling you up in a ways that couldn’t possibly be replicated.  

“There you go,” Spencer murmured. He leaned forward, pressing his chest to your back firmly. “That’s what you’ve been craving, haven’t you, princess? Just needed some dick to turn your pretty little brain off.”

His hand snaked around to wrap his fingers around your throat. Not squeezing, rather just resting there, reminding you of your place, of his power over you. He continued to push until he bottomed out inside you and you both keened. How could you have ever broken up when you fit together so perfectly?

“You’re so fuckin’ tight, baby,” he hissed right into your ear. “Your pretty pussy definitely missed me, didn’t it?” His other hand landed on your ass once more and he delivered a hard smack on the available skin. “Squeezing me so good, sweetheart, such a good fuckin’ girl..”

He pulled back slightly, roughly halfway, before slamming into you hard enough to make the table slam against the wall. Then he repeated himself, one rough thrust after the other. You felt so braindead in that moment, gone in your own head with pleasure, that you could moan and babble.

“Feels so good, Spence,” you whined, trying to grind your hips back against him. “Fuck, it’s so good, so good, please don’t stop, please, please-” You cut yourself with a heady moan when he slammed into you with force.

“Cockdrunk whore,” Spencer hissed into your ear and you could only nod. His hand moved from your ass to tracing your labia before finding his target - your throbbing and neglected clit. He rubbed hard and fast circles around the swollen nub and you nearly sobbed.

His lips drifted to your neck and began peppering every inch of your skin in kisses. Some light, some sloppy and messy, nearly bruising with the force of them. Your head fell forward, hair falling all over your face and sticking to your sweaty skin. Tears brimmed in your eyes, threatening to spill down your flushed cheeks.

Then came Spencer’s teeth, grazing along your neck before biting down, hard. You squeaked, hands curling around the edge of the table until your knuckles turned white. Your cunt clenched, sucking him in even deeper. His groan rumbled deep in your chest.

“Taking me so fucking good, baby, such a good girl for me,” he mumbled against your skin. He picked up his thrusts, hips slamming hard against yours. The circles on your clit increased in their pace, as well, the coil in your stomach burning hot and heavy.

“Spencer,” you nearly shrieked. “Spencer, I’m gonna- Shit! I’m gonna cum, Spencer!”

“You gonna cum for me, pretty girl?” His words were nearly a growl, deep and low and so fucking sexy. “You gonna cum?” He landed a harsh slap against your pussy and you almost screamed once more.

Spencer pulled out suddenly, leaving just as empty as you were earlier. Your eyes shot wide open, whines tumbling from your lips, distraught at being denied your precious orgasm. He was spinning around you once more, crashing your lips together.

You moaned into the kiss, arms hurried wrapping around his broad shoulders. His hands fell to your thighs, lifting you up and into his arms, making you squeak. When did he get so.. strong?

You didn’t have much time to ponder over Spencer’s sudden display of strength because your back was practically tossed against a nearby wall. He pulled apart from the kiss to take his cock into his hand again, guiding it towards your dripping cunt again.

Your nails dug into his back as he stretched you open on his cock again, head falling back and hitting the wall. His lips were attached to your lips again, suckling and biting to leave behind millions of different marks.

“So big,” you slurred. Your voice sounded almost foreign to yourself - high-pitched and whiny. “Filling me so good, Spence, it’s so good.” Tears had begun to cascade down your face, streaking your mascara and leaving thick tracks of black on your cheeks. Spencer had never seen you look more beautiful than in that moment.

“You’re beautiful, Y/N,” he praised between heavy pants. “Taking me so good, so good, like the stupid fucking slut you are.” His hand made contact with your face again, leaving a red mark in its wake and leaving your skin feeling electric. Your walls squeezed around him.

“You like that, huh?” he did again and you moaned loudly, unashamed now. “You like being smacked around, huh? Like being treated like the filthy lil’ whore you are? Is that right, princess?” He repeated himself, smacking you once, twice, three times and each you clenched around him.

Your orgasmed barreled over you before you could have possibly processed it. Your eyes squeezed shut, stars popping in your vision, legs shaking. Your mouth fell open in a silent scream as pleasure washed over you in waves near akin to a tsunami in your body.

Spencer fell right over the edge right after you, teeth sinking down into your shoulder with a heavy groan. Sprouts of hot cum flooded your insides and you whined at the feeling of overstimulation washing over you.

You both stilled for a moment, basking in the afterglow of your orgasm, panting heavily together. Slowly, Spencer pulled out his softening cock out of you, and you whined for the final time at being so empty. Your cunt clenched around nothing for a few seconds before beginning to seep Spencer’s seed, dripping down your thigh and onto the carpet.

You felt a bit bad for the janitor who would have to clean up your messes.

Spencer grasped your chin between his forefinger and thumb, turning your head to look back at him. His lips met yours in another kiss, this time much softer and full of something you might describe as affection. 

When you pulled apart, he smiled at you. “So good for me.” He was breathless, and you couldn’t blame him.

There was a beat of silence between the two of you again. Spencer cleared his throat before adding, “Did you, uh.. want a ride back to my place? I still have some of your clothes at my apartment, you could shower and change..” he trailed off, teeth catching his bottom lip. There was a hint of a pleading look in his eyes and your heart clenched at the sight. You could never say no to his puppy eyes.

“Only if you take me out to dinner after.”

“Deal.”