#and i was hot and hungry and my legs felt like jelly by the end

[iwasreading]

i went to a music festival last friday and i’m still riding that high. like, this is what it’s like to feel alive, huh

[faewritesshit]

It was late in the evening, or perhaps already early in the morning, and Micah was buzzing. He was high, and very comfortable, currently. Currently, he was on the roof of Leslie’s building, curled against their chest, both sprawled on the small couch they kept up there. He was pressed comfortably against Leslie’s chest, their legs around him, and one arm wrapped around his middle. His bones felt a bit like jelly, and his skin was tingling. Letting his head fall back against Leslie’s shoulder, he gazed up at the stars, relishing in the warm night air, and just how comfortable. he was feeling, catching sight of Leslie eyeing him, lit join to their lips.

Micah had been learning quite a lot about Leslie these past few weeks. Leslie was funny, and kind, and - for the most part - gentle. They liked physical contact. They liked it a lot, often giving a pout or grumble when the desired contact was broken. More often than not, Micah had some sort of hand on him when he was around them. Usually just a hand on his back, or arm draped over his shoulder. Tonight they were needy, pulling him close so as much of their bodies were touching and feasibly possible. That was how they had ended up in this position, almost fully on top of them, pressing them into the side of the couch. On occasion, they were a different kind of needy, a hungry, demanding, possessive kind of needy. It didn’t happen often, but Micah certainly wasn’t one to complain when it did. Micah let his eyes close, letting out a contented hum as he heard the crackle of the ember as Leslie took a drag. His eyes opened again when he felt teeth on his throat, hot smoke escaping the break between the skin of his neck and Leslie’s mouth. They didn’t bite hard, just a temporary pressure, holding him still. His heartbeat had just begun to catch up to the shifting moment when the teeth were gone, Leslie instead pressing a soft kiss against the spot before straightening, holding the half finished join in front of Micah’s vision.

There was a pause before Micah took the offered joint, picking his head back up to take his pass. He watched Leslie out of the corner of his eye. They were watching him, eyes half lidded, soft smile on their lips, hair nicely mussed from the breeze around them. Their weren’t as gone as he was, but they were getting there. The distraction became a problem when he didn’t notice how deep his inhale had been, and suddenly he was fighting the urge to cough, holding the joint back out for Leslie to take. He exhaled slowly, feeling the heavy smoke vacating from the recesses of his lungs. It wasn’t the first time Leslie had put their teeth on him outside of a sexual context. It was always similar, a short moment of teeth on his neck - always the neck - before being taken back.

“What’s that all about?” The weed was making him bold. Leslie’s eyes slowly focused back on his, they just blinked at him. “The biting.” He clarified.

“Do you want me to stop?” They almost sounded hurt.

“No,” He curled himself farther back against Leslie, pressing his head into the crook of their neck. “Just curious. ‘S different from… everything else.”

Leslie was quiet for a while, and Micah almost thought that he had overstepped some boundary he hadn’t seen. The weed dampened his usual panic response, letting him maintain a gentle curiosity. He allowed himself a glance up at them, they were staring into he middle distance as they held the smoke in their lungs, letting trails drip from the space between their lips.

“Dunno.” Was their answer eventually. Watching the smoke puff out as they spoke was mesmerizing. “I didn’t used to want to before, but it’s just… natural?”

“It’s new?”

“New since my whole… thing.” They grimaced a bit as a memory seemed to surface.

“Some sort of side effect?” He knew the broad strokes of what had happened with them. Leslie never really went into detail about much, preferring to keep details vague, and as light hearted as you can with matters like that.

“I guess that’s what being possessed by a person eating, rage beast does to a guy.” The nonchalant shrug they gave jostled Micah, and he snorted a short laugh, couldn’t help it really. It was inherently ridiculous. Leslie’s arm tightened around his waist, almost nuzzling their face into his hair. “What, my pain and suffering is funny to you?” Their tone was clearly teasing as Micah stifled another giggle.

“No, asshole.” He thwapped a hand against their leg. “You’re so casual about it.” Leslie’s huff tickled down the back of his neck. “You’re weird.”

“Rude, firstly.” They paused to take another drag, pulling long and slow. Micah watched the light off the ember dance in their eyes. “Secondly,” They e facing him again, hand on his chin, bringing their lips close enough to be almost touching as they exhaled. Obediently, Micah took in the smoke, letting his eyes close as the secondhand smoke filled his lungs. “You’d be the one letting the weirdo fuck you. What would the people think?”

The smoke came out of Micah’s nose as he laughed, turning away from Leslie as it turned into a spluttering cough. Leslie’s grip released, allowing him to sit up, burying his face in the sleeve of his hoodie. Vaguely, he heard an apology from Leslie over his coughing fit. Luckily, it was a short one, quickly clearing the smoke from his chest. He let himself fall back against Leslie, hearing a small huff as the impact pushed air from them.

“Oh no.” Lazily, he threw a hand to his forehead, craning his neck to look back at Leslie, a mock distressed expression on his face. “My beloved social reputation, what ever shall I do? How will I cope?”

“I could think of a few ways.” There was mischief in their voice as they watched him, a challenge in their eye.

“Oh yeah? And what would those be?” He was rising to it.

Leslie shrugged, looking around the messy rooftop as they responded. “Alcohol, drugs, sex, violence.”

“Very healthy, Leslie.”

“We already have one of those covered.” They gestured with the hand holding the dying roach. “The night’s young, I’m sure we could check a few more off of that list.” The grin they looked down at him with could only be described as ‘wolfish’ all teeth and intent.

Anxious anticipation began to creep its way up Micah’s gut and into his chest. It had been more than his required ‘days of rest’ he thought about it earnestly for a moment. It had been a shit week, and who was he to deny such an offer? He was starting to get cold anyway.

“No alcohol.” He twisted out of Leslie’s arms, standing up and turning to face them, holding out a hand. “Or I will throw up on you.”

“Deal.” Simultaneously, Leslie ground the crumbling filter down into their ashtray and took Micah’s hand, pulling themself up with surprising fluidity. They were solidly in his space, pulling Micah towards them, leaning to loom in over him. “I think we could arrange you a two for one.”

Their eyes were sharp, narrowed and dark. The hungry look. was back in their eye, lingering there as they looked down at him. The corner of Micah’s mouth threatened to twitch up into an anticipatory grin. A shudder ran down his spine as his adrenaline began to spike. The thrumming in his chest was only amplified by his high, his thoughts were sluggish, vulnerable. The instinct to run made itself known. He loved this part.

[rreyie]

i am respectfully asking for a commander erwin and mike threesome that is so filthy i am embarrassed i’m reading it. u can throw in levi if ya want :).

ooh.... yummy

—————————————————————————

superiors

summary- a threesome with mike erwin and levi lol

warnings- HOLY SHIT THERES A LOT- anal, groping, vaginal, oral, panty sniffing, tasting yourself, degrading, mike coaching levi on how to facefuck, facefucking, unedited work

a/n- SORRY ABOUT THE WAIT! also, i’ve never really written pure filth so i’m sorry if this isn’t as dirty to your liking, but i tried to put in some... questionable material in there

“mike. shut the door.”

you were spread out on erwins desk like a whore. your hands were tied together by a small piece of fabric, while your own panties were shoved into your mouth. you could taste yourself on them, the bittersweet taste sharp on your tongue.

for the past few minutes or so, your superiors had been feeling and groping you relentlessly, touching every inch of your body until they managed to get you wet. and it didn’t even take a full five minutes to get you all hot and bothered. that’s what drove all three of them crazy.

your cream colored button up shirt was torn open, leaving your tits out on full display for them to admire. meanwhile, your pants were completely removed and on the floor somewhere. all of the men were in their boxers, minus erwin, who was wearing absolutely nothing. his cock size always frightened you, it looked to be about eleven inches, maybe twelve.

“now... where were we?” mike growled, peering over the desk. levi walked over too, jet black hair a mess. the three of them had a predatory gaze on you, as if you were the antalope and they were the lions. “has our princess been a good girl?”

“why don’t we find out?” erwin suggested. without saying anything else, he easily slid a thick finger into you, a muffled moan slipping from your mouth. you couldn’t help but feel your velvety walls contract against the finger, as he circled it around in an attempt to find your sweet spot.

“shit, look at how desperate she is”, erwin cooed. “don’t worry, dear y/n. we promise to make you feel all nice and good once we’re done prepping you.”

you could only imagine how you would handle all of them at once- you had done these sort of things with erwin and mike before, but levi was a new addition. the only reason he was added was because he had walked in on you three last time while erwin was balls deep inside of you and mike was on the other end facefucking you until your lips were swollen.

you couldn’t complain though. from just looking at his boxers, you could see a bulge- and it was no joke. perhaps he was 8 inches. you couldn’t help but wonder- how the fuck were you going to take all this?

erwin continued to explore you, placing a hand on your breast. he circled your nipple as it slowly began to pebble, the contact making it more sensitive than before.

“she’s ready. levi, why don’t you take her first? i’m sure she’s hungry for some cock, isn’t that right, sweetheart?” erwins azure eyes darted over to yours. you nodded, and mike removed the panties from your mouth. holding the soiled cloth to his nose, he sniffed it a bit, giving a hum of approval at the stench.

seeing levi’s figure hovering above you was... intimidating, to say the least. though his height wasn’t much, his silver orbs were unwelcoming and his raven hair hung around his face like a halo. despite all of this, a shade of pink was spread across his cheeks as he looked down at you. you were so vulnerable, so... helpless. maybe that was what turned you on.

taking a hand and shoving it in his blackish-grey boxers, he returned with his cock, fully erect with a bit of precum dripping down the side. a vein curved it’s way from the base to near the tip. his tip was somewhere between pink and red, a bit glossy.

“well? how am i supposed to do this?” levi asked, looking to erwin and mike for assistance. mike brushed his ashy hair out of the way, and stood next to levi.

“you’re telling me you’ve never done this before, huh?” mike chuckled. “that’s alright. guess you’ll need me to show you the ropes. tell the slut to lay her head back, first of all.”

your head dropped to the end of the table, shaking the desk. mike took a hold of your hands and slowly untied them, only to put them on your stomach where he re-tied them, making the fabric tighter around your wrists, making it so levi could get closer to your head.

“open up”, mike commanded you. you obliged almost instantly, opening up your mouth to provide levi an entrance. “now, don’t be shy to treat her as your own personal fuck toy- after all, that is what she’s here for.”

he steered his cock towards your mouth, a drop of precum landing on your tongue. it was pleasantly salty, lucky for you that levi had a good taste to him.

levi shoved himself into you, feeling his warm shaft throb around your lips and soft tissue of your mouth. he let out an audible gasp, and thrusted into you again. you gagged, your hands forming fists as he hit the back of your throat.

“that’s right. fuck her like the obedient slut she is”, mike growled.

just out of your sight, you saw erwin sitting in his leather desk chair fisting himself to the sight of you taking levi in with your mouth. a smirk formed across his face as he focused on your face, tears forming at your lashline as he hit the back of your throat again and again.

not long after, levi’s breathing became broken, panting as he came undone, his cock squirting his release into your mouth.

a growing ache began to form in your stomach, your pussy tingling at the thought of being used like this.

this was only the beginning- the appetizer, if you please.

“well done”, erwins voice boomed. “now just like the good girl you are, you’re gonna let us all have you, right?”

you nod your head sheepishly, as erwin sits you up, grabbing your waist and carries you over to the nearby sofa. mike was already silt there laying down, so you assumed he would have your back end.

“i’ll be nice and let you have her pussy this time, levi”, erwin said. “after all, this is your first time.”

levi nodded. “it’s appreciated, commander.”

as you were laid out on mike, you could already feel his cock in between your legs, brushing up against your womanhood. he was fully erect, throbbing a bit as his dick stood proudly against you.

“take this off”, erwin commanded. “it’s only getting in the way. your tits look prettier without that damn shirt, they’ll look even better once we’re all finished with you.”

levi is standing at the end of the couch, preparing himself by pumping his cock a few times, getting harder with each movement.

“look up to your commander”, mike said. doing so, you felt erwins dick pressed up to your lips, slightly wet from his previous activity.

something suddenly filled you up on the other end, followed by levi grabbing your ass. he was already touching your sweet spot, tip gently brushing against your cervix. you were about to let a moan out, but were quickly silenced by eriwins massive cock being shoved into your mouth. the vibrations made erwin go absolutely feral, prompting him to go further into you.

levi began to stretch you out, his cock gliding along your slick walls while mike aided his dick past the ring of muscle. you let out a yelp, but erwin pushed further into you to silence you.

“never told you that you could speak right now”, erwin growled. “right now it’s our turn to have fun with you.”

at this point, you couldn’t even muster the strength to speak, or courage. all three men were fucking your brains out, and reaching out curious hands to touch you in every single place. mikes hands firmly grasped your breasts, erwins hands were all tangled up in your hair and levi’s palms were on your ass, holding on as he pounded into you repeatedly.

mikes breathing became rough, slapping his hips into your ass as he plowed into your tight hole one last time. his mouth latched onto your shoulder, biting your supple flesh gently. you could feel his seed spurt into you, hot and warm.

levi came next, giving a breathy moan before pulling out and letting his seed spatter onto your stomach. and oh boy did he have a load. it was everywhere, your stomach, thighs, even a drop or two landed on your breasts.

soon your own climax came, making you spasm and writhe around mikes cock, that was still inside you. levi’s hand grazed your clit for a moment, and then rubbed it as you rode out your high.

you felt something wet come from you, and it wasn’t cum. erwin looked over to levi, both men smiling at whatever you were doing.

“oi, erwin”, levi called. “look at this, she squirted.” he held up a hand, now soaked in clear fluid. “what, did we pleasure you too well?”

before you got a chance to respond, erwin grunted, holding both of your warm cheeks and thrusted into your mouth one last time before unleashing his load into your mouth. your entire throat was painted white, and you choked on his sticky release.

you coughed a few times, and swallowed the rest of the cum that had came out of him. some landed on your face, some in your mouth.

now, you were a mess. you had cum and spit everywhere, white blotches littering your body. you were sat up back on the couch, mike moving from underneath you. levi ran to the bathroom and quickly dried himself off, passing the towel to the other two men to wipe off sweat and any other indications of what you were doing.

you could barely see, the pleasure still fogging your brain and vision. it was almost time for dinner, and people would think something was wrong if you all didn’t report to the mess hall.

as erwin fastened the rest of his shirt, he looked in your direction and gave a dark chuckle.

“what, need help getting dressed?” he laughed. the other two men laughed too at your inability to take care of yourself. it wasn’t like you could get up and walk, due to your legs feeling like jelly.

“j-just pass me my clothes...” you whisper, and yawn.

the men exchanged glances, and mike turned around to grab your pair of panties that sat on erwins desk. instead of giving them to you, he quickly stuffed them in his pocket.

“i’ll take this”, he said. “thank you for your donation.”

“hey, i need those!” you attempt to shout, but it came out as a quiet squeal. “give them back, mike.”

“too bad. guess the rest of the scouts will have to see what a cum slut you are”, erwin said, ushering the men out the door. “see you in five.”

so you crawled on your hands and knees to put on your clothes, fastening buckles and buttoning buttons. you felt the cum soak the bottom of your pants, seeping through the thin fabric of your pants.

for the rest of the night, you had to sit with your fellow officers in the mess hall with an ass full of cum. it was humiliating, but worth it.

[thatoneteadrinker666]

Card Games Not Pog

Warning: reader insert soft vore, ambiguous ending, very mean pred and fear

There were many downsides to being tiny. It was harder to gather resources, build, and posed the risk of being snatched up unexpectedly during a supply run.

You watched your captor’s face, shaking as your eyes trailed down the scar through his eye and down his cheek. At the end of the scar, where the lip was torn, was a gold fang that shone with saliva.

“Ya know, I’m really hungry. But I’m also bored, so I’ll strike you a deal. You’ll come with me to Las Navadas, which I’m sure you’ve heard of by now.” He snapped his overalls with a hand. “And you’ll play blackjack with me. And if you win I’ll let you go. But if I win, or you refuse…” Quackity snickered. “…then I’ll just eat you right here and now. What do you say? Do you accept?” He held out a finger for you to shake.

You did not want to play blackjack with Quackity. To put it simply, he excelled at the game and you knew this. The amount of times you’ve heard someone complain about losing, well, you needed more than two hands to count that number. But you didn’t think he’d ever find you out and about, by yourself, with no one else. And then having to play to save your life? It was bleak. But you could either take a chance and play, or just get gobbled up right there with no chance of survival.

After hesitating, you nodded, voice just refusing to work, and shook his finger. Quackity beamed at the answer.

“Good choice.” You hated how he was staring at you, his dark, almost pitch black eyes gleaming with hunger. Quackity returned the shake. “Then let’s get going.”

————————

It had started out just fine. He’d sat you on the opposite side of a table and began dealing before showing you one of his own cards. Just a one. The chance of him winning was low, if you remembered correctly. You just had to play your cards right (literally in this case) and you’d be free to go. You could actually survive this. You could beat him at his own game.

You peered at each of your cards, considering your chances. So far so good. With some difficulty you put the cards back down, flat on the table, and glared at Quackity. “Hit me.”

He gave you a card, smirking. The expression was unnerving, but you were determined to win and survive so you powered on.

The game went on for a few turns, both of you hitting before finally, you chose to stay. You had up to 20. He couldn’t beat you. The odds of him beating you were slim. Satisfied, you sat back, chin lifted in the air. “Game over. Now you have to let me go.” You watched Quackity as his brow wrinkled before smoothing out.

“No, I don’t think so.”

Your heart dropped.

Quackity laid out his cards. A perfect 21. No more, no less. You counted them over. And counted them again. There was no way but- it all added up. Your spine turned to jelly.

“No… no…” You looked at your cards and his, back and forth. “But how… I had it…”

He chuckled, the sound rumbling in your chest, and leaned forward.

“Well, you know the rules. And so do I.” Quackity reached over and put a hand behind you, blocking off that route. Slowly he pulled you towards him, grin nearly splitting his face in two. “I win. You lose.”

You tried to stand up and cried out when he pinched the back of your shirt and lifted you up. “Please… I don’t… I don’t want to lose my life..” you started to beg.

“Then maybe you shouldn’t have been so damn delicious.” Ropes of saliva hung from his jaws.

Hot tears rolled down your cheeks. Through blurred vision you stared into the open maw, gasping for air as your eyes were drawn to the dark pinkness behind the teeth and tongue.

A horrifyingly warm tongue pressed itself against you and slowly made its way up, tasting every possible inch of you. You grabbed the muscle as it lifted your chin up before completely covering your face. You were being smothered. You-

Quackity tossed your body into his mouth, jaws gently closing against your stomach. All you could really do was aimlessly kick your legs and hope the top row of teeth didn’t come down any further. The areas of contact between your skin and the pointed daggers were already hurting, not bleeding, but aching uncomfortably. There would no doubt be a bruise.

You scrunched your face up as his tongue curled around your upper body and face. You weren’t even fully in yet and already you were sweating and getting hot flashes.

Your captor tasted you a bit more before slurping you in and sucking on your small form like candy. You must have tasted good, since saliva had begun to pool around you and drip from the ceiling in globs. A yelp left your mouth as you were slid closer to his throat, overlooking the drop but not quite slipping in yet. He had to be teasing you. Showing you exactly where you were going. Your eyes watered as you peered down, wanting to move backwards but unable to do so. He had you pinned.

The soft flesh at the back of his mouth squeezed around you as he cleared the excess saliva. A few beats went by and you wearily wondered if he was having second thoughts about the ordeal. Maybe he’d let you go. Maybe this was all just a funny little prank and he didn’t actually want to eat you. You glanced over your shoulder as the teeth parted, letting in yellow tinted light and bathing your surrounding in a rusty color. You waited, hoping he’d let you go. He didn’t.

Quackity tilted his chin up and let you slide into his awaiting gullet. It took two swallows to get you down; one to grab your wriggling body, and another to pull you down into his throat. You wanted to cry. You wanted to scream and beg and plead, but the esophagus just didn’t have enough space for that. It barely let you breathe.

Quackity snickered as he felt you squeeze under his collar and leaned back when you were pushed into the stomach. He stretched, further squeezing you in an already tight place.

“Quackity.. please.. please let me go. I just have this life left.” Out of all the ways to lose your last life, this wasn’t the way you wanted. Granted you didn’t want to lose your last life at all, but being trapped in a stomach, in the stomach of who used to be a fun-loving, one could even say compassionate man. You weren’t sure exactly what had happened, what had changed Quackity, but it wasn’t for the better.

He hummed thoughtfully, poking his gut and squishing you around. “I could do that. Or I could keep my snack, since I won it fair and square. I haven’t made up my mind yet.”

You choked back a sob, using your legs to prop up the opposing wall of flesh so it wouldn’t keep scrunching you up. It felt hotter than before. Had something happened? Or were you losing it? You shook your head and sniffled. The excessive heat had sapped your energy. You just wanted to close your eyes and sleep. You could hope that Quackity would be merciful, but nothing was guaranteed. And judging by the enhanced activity of the organ you were in, and the sloshing liquid at the pit of his stomach, Quackity wasn’t planning on being merciful. What could you do? You couldn’t do anything.

You took a big breath in and tried not break down in tears. You weren’t going anywhere. He wasn’t letting you go. Despite the adrenaline in your veins, you settled down, knees to chest, and closed your eyes. You’d rather be asleep by the time the process started. And so you waited.

[luminnara]

The Dismemberment Song PART 2 | BOP Victor Zsasz x Reader | 18+

Fandom: Birds of Prey

Words:

Summary: Zsasz takes a liking to one of the burlesque dancers at Roman’s club. It turns out the two have a little history together...and they both want to do something about their unresolved tension.

PART ONE | PART TWO 

Thanks so much for reading!! I really really hope you like this, because BOP Zsasz needs more love and attention, and I, for one, am determined to give it to him! 

Words: 3,666

Warnings: Alcohol, blood, violence, mutilation, that good good smutty smut (oral, penetration), kinda dom!Zsasz

Requests are open!!

You had never been in Roman Sionis’s penthouse. It was strictly off limits to anyone he didn’t personally invite, and you didn’t even think that his favorite little bird, Dinah Lance, had been up there. Now, though, here you were, stepping out of the elevator with Zsasz on your heels as you marveled at the converted loft. 

“Holy shit,” you breathed, looking around. 

Roman’s place was filled with weird art, all sorts of exotic masks sitting on pedestals or hanging on the walls. There was a long, dark dinner table with a decorative fruit platter sitting in the center, and an open floor plan allowed to see the spacious living room surrounded by huge walls of windows that overlooked the East End. It was the perfect blend of luxurious and industrial for someone like Roman, and you sighed as you imagined yourself living somewhere so nice.

“‘Sthat all about?” Zsasz asked in that rough, low, almost drawling voice.

“Just admiring the view,” you said as you left him to go stand before the windows.

“Yeah,” Zsasz agreed. “It’s nice.”

But his eyes were on you, not the Gotham skyline.

“Do you stay here with him?” You asked, turning to look at Roman’s henchman with a bright, exuberant smile on your face, as if you hadn’t just murdered a man onstage in the club.

“I do.” Zsasz approached you, hands in his pockets as he moved in that watchful, predatory way you always saw him slinking around with. “I’ve gotta protect the boss. He needs me.”

“You must do a pretty good job of it.” You mused. Now that you were confident that Roman wasn’t going to have Zsasz peel your face off, you were allowing yourself to relax again.

“It’s my job.” He said simply, coming to stand behind you. He was so close that you could smell his cologne, his breath hot on your neck as he leaned in.

You froze.

His chest was brushing your back and you were almost certain he could hear the way your heart was hammering away in your chest. You held perfectly still, not daring to move a muscle as Zsasz brought a hand up to brush your bloodstained curls away from your shoulder.

His fingers were rough, calloused, and warm, just like the rest of him, his hands big and strong enough that you were confident he could kill you unarmed in the blink of an eye. The weird, sadistic side of you would welcome it; though you had never admitted it to anybody before, you were pretty sure that Victor Zsasz was the only man you would ever allow to kill you.

You could remember the first time you met him, years ago, when he and Roman came to your old gig to convince you to start up at the Black Mask. He had less scars back then, but still the same bleached hair and that fucking handsome stubble on his jaw. You had been entranced as you watched him follow your eventual employer around, the club owner giving them their own corner booth and all the bottle service that Roman Sionis could possibly want.

You could remember how your legs had turned to jelly when the shift manager sent you over to them, but you must have managed to hide it well, because you spent the rest of the night drinking and partying with Roman fucking Sionis. Then, obviously, one thing led to another, and you had gone to work for him.

The part you had never told anyone about, though, the part you never spoke of, was the part where Zsasz had taken you into a vip room.

You didn’t remember all the details about everything that night, but you could still recall every moment you spent on his lap. Every appreciative squeeze he gave your ass and thighs, every low moan he let out as you rocked your hips with his. You still dreamt about it once in a while, even though you were sure that it had all been something about Roman making his lackey inspect the goods before hiring you.

But still...you had loved it.

He always wore his shirts unbuttoned a fair ways down to show off the scars on his upper chest, but that night, you had gotten to see more. You could remember how you had run your fingers over them, and the way that Zsasz had watched you almost reverently. You didn’t know exactly why he etched them into himself, if it was to intimidate everyone or for some personal reason, but you didn’t find them odd or ugly. You loved the raised scar tissue and the way it felt, so smooth to the touch despite looking so gnarled, and it was one of the many reasons you had always harbored a secret liking for Victor Zsasz.

Now, as he stood so close behind you, you felt that same jelly in your legs.

“You should get cleaned up, kitten.” He said in that low voice. “The boss wouldn’t want you making a mess.”

You tilted your head slightly, watching him out of the corner of your eye. “Why don’t you show me to the shower then, Zsasz?”

It came out more sultry than you had intended, but when he responded by pressing his hips into your ass, you were glad. He caught the way your breath hitched in your throat, his eyes trained on yours as he did nothing but stare at you for a few agonizingly long moments.

“Right this way, Princess.” He finally broke away.

You brushed off your mild disappointment, mentally chastising yourself for hoping that would have gone further, and followed him down a hallway, passing a few closed doors before reaching one that stood open. When Victor stepped in and flipped the light switch, you stood and gawked at what awaited you.

Of course Roman Sionis would have the nicest guest bathroom in Gotham.

It was huge, a claw foot tub sitting against the wall across from the sink while a shower was situation at the far end. Everything was off-white and antique gold, simple and elegant and clearly very expensive.

“Holy shit,” you said under your breath, for the second time that night. “Roman doesn’t skimp out, does he?”

“The boss has expensive taste.” Zsasz said, following you in. “Get in the shower.”

You turned and looked at him. “Little privacy might be nice.”

He only stared back.

“Zsasz...?” You gave a little nod towards the door.

“Oh,” he chuckled, laughing to himself as if something had slipped his mind. “Course. Privacy.”

He turned and shut the door, still in the room with you.

You sighed.

“That’s not what I meant and you know it.”

“Can’t leave you alone in here unattended.” He said, stepping towards you. “You might slip and fall.”

His voice was slightly menacing, in a way that had you almost wondering if he wasn’t going to find a way to kill you and stage your death as an accident. But you were confident in yourself. If he made any funny moves, you could get him before he got you.

Maybe.

“Fine.” You jutted your chin out defiantly. “Then why don’t you make yourself useful and go warm up the water for me while I get out of this robe?”

You expected him to roll his eyes and sneer, but he didn’t. He didn’t even refuse. He just walked right over, slid the glass shower door to the side, and turned the water on. Just like that. Obediently, as if he actually wanted to. You were so dumbfounded by it that by the time he glanced back towards you, you were still standing there, completely dressed.

He looked a bit disappointed.

“Well?” He asked.

“What? Oh.” You untied your fancy little robe and let it fall onto the tiles, still looking straight at him.

You could see his eyes trailing down your body, those dark circles under them giving him a hungry, starved look. When you hooked your thumbs in the sides of your thong and pulled it down, you saw his chest rising and falling as his breaths quickened slightly.

You smirked. Yeah, like Roman had said, Zsasz was harmless. If he had wanted to kill you, he would have by now. He’d already had a dozen chances on the way up to the penthouse.

As you walked toward the shower, he stepped to the side, seeming for a moment as if he was content to let you go in and enjoy the hot water in peace. Of course he wasn’t, though;

This was Victor Zsasz.

“Wait.” He caught your wrist just before you could step in and you were vaguely aware of the blade he flicked open with his other hand. “You need a mark.”

“What?” You stepped back, allowing him to pull you up to him.

“A mark.” He tapped one of the scars on the side of his face with the knife. “For your kill. Where do you want it?”

You weren’t sure what to say. You had never kept track of the lives you took, but...it really wasn’t that bad an idea. Plus, it seemed like Zsasz wasn’t giving you the option to refuse.

Double plus, it was kind of sexy to imagine him carving you up.

“Here.” you finally said, pointing to the center of your chest. 

Zsasz grinned, showing off those gold teeth that you loved so much. He kept his grip on your wrist but lowered your arm to your side, his knife pressing against the thin skin above your sternum. His touch was feather light, no doubt thanks to years and years of butchering people, both for Roman and for his own pleasure. He new exactly how hard to press in which areas, an expert in the art of slicing through flesh. The steel of his blade was cool and freshly sharpened, gliding along and drawing an angry, but beautiful, red line as blood oozed up and began running down your torso.

 As he dragged the knife down, you let out a hiss of discomfort, pitching forward slightly in pain. He leaned in, his forehead pressing against yours as his blade cut deeper, deeper, nearly down to the bone, and by the time he was finished, you had a four inch long gash ending at the top of your cleavage that was sure to scar marvelously. 

You looked down at it in wonder. Zsasz had done it so...beautifully. He made it so important, this new tally mark. And as you gazed at it, you realized you loved it because he made it. Victor Zsasz, one of Gotham City’s most fucked up criminals, had given you a scar. For somebody just as fucked up as him...well, it practically brought tears to your eyes.

Victor didn’t give you a chance to get weepy. He dropped the bloody knife into the spotless white sink, the blade clattering loudly above the sound of the shower. Zsasz moved his thumb to your new cut, pressing it against the wound and then bringing it up to his mouth to lick your blood off. 

“Zsasz,” you whispered. 

“Victor.” his voice rumbled as he let go of your wrist. “Call me Victor.”

Then his hands were on you, one squeezing your tit while the other grabbed your ass. You gasped in surprise, but his mouth silenced you almost immediately. The kiss was rough, his lips nicked with a few scars, but he was good and you immediately melted against him. He was devouring you, as if he been starved of any attention for years, and maybe he had been. He was hungry for you, insistent, determined, practically begging for more as a low moan rose in his throat. 

Your knees were weak, and you had to break the kiss to catch your breath before you collapsed. You wanted more, though, needed to feel more of him, your hands ripping open his nice designer button down. He wasn’t even mad that you had just sent half the buttons flying around the bathroom, because your fingers were already trailing over the scars that covered his chest, then dipping down to run across his hips. 

His skin was smooth, wherever it was free of tally marks, and incredibly hot to the touch. While you explored, your lips latched onto his neck, kissing and biting and sucking in a way that he hadn’t anticipated. Zsasz was used to being the demanding one, but he wasn’t about to complain that you were so determined to leave some marks of your own. 

Your hands ghosted up over his pecs and then down his abs, and you hummed in appreciation as you felt the neatly groomed hair on his chest. When your hands dipped lower and lower and finally found his belt, he suddenly growled and grabbed your wrists, and your head snapped up to look at him. 

“Shower. Now.” he ordered, eyes dark. 

You obeyed, slipping away from him and stepping into the shower. You could hear him undressing, and as you sighed happily at the feeling of the warm water on your skin, he came to join you.

The shower was more than big enough for the two of you, but he didn’t want to give you any space. He backed you up against the wall, his lips immediately crashing down on yours as he pushed himself up against you. You could feel his hard on pressing into your thigh and whimpered in anticipation, a shiver going straight down to your pussy.

Fuck.

You wanted him so fucking much.

“V-Victor,” you whispered as he leaned back from the kiss. You couldn’t help rubbing your thighs together, trying to alleviate the ache that was quickly building up.

“I wanna hear you purr for me, kitten.” He rasped, his big, warm hand drifting down to your cunt. He found your clit immediately, teasing it, reveling in every gasp and cry you let out for him.

He wanted nothing more than to get down on his knees and worship you with his mouth, but he could be patient.

“You know, when I saw you there, on the stage...” he said as he drew lazy circles around your clit, “...I couldn’t look away...”

“R-really?” You gasped, arching your back as you sucked in a breath.

“Mhm.” He pressed a finger into you. “So fuckin’ beautiful, the way you carved him up...”

You squealed at his touch, the sound like music to his ears. He liked it even more than the sound of his victims screaming...though he was confident you’d be doing plenty of that, too.

“Never knew such a pretty little birdie like you could do somethin’ like that...” he said, slowly pulling his finger out and then pushing it back in again. “All that blood...”

“I-I’ve killed plenty of times,” you gasped, nails digging into his arms as you clung to him. 

“I could tell...you made it look like art...” he suddenly added a second finger, shoving them both in until the rest of his knuckles were pressing against your labia and he had nowhere else to go. 

You let out a loud whine, wanting more, needing more. Before you could demand anything of him, though, he was kneeling in front of you, practically reading your mind as he leaned in to replace his fingers with his mouth. 

You hadn’t expected him to be so skilled, but then again, you hadn’t really expected any of this to be happening tonight. 

He was eating you out as if you were his last meal, as if he hadn’t had food in weeks, as if he was starving. Zsasz was desperate, lapping up all the wetness from your pussy as if it was the only thing keeping him alive, his moans vibrating against your skin. His hair was too short to tangle your fingers in, but you still tried, nails scratching his scalp in a tantalizing way while he gripped your thighs hard enough to leave little red marks behind. 

“F-fuck,” you moaned, leaning your head back against the wall and tensing as he sucked on your clit. Little jolts were running through you, sparks that almost felt electric. Your limbs were tingling as your orgasm built, and as it finally spilled over, you found yourself whining and gasping and chanting his name over and over, holding onto him tightly as he licked at you greedily. 

Zsasz loved it. He wanted you to need him, and he loved the sounds he could pull from you. He could keep going all night, burying his face between your thighs and worshipping you, but now, he wanted more. 

“Turn around.” he said as he stood, licking his lips. 

You nodded, still in a daze as you turned and braced yourself against the wall. He grabbed your hip in one hand and his cock in the other, rubbing the head against your swollen, wet pussy. Next time, he would have you suck him off. Maybe he would ask you to wake him up with a blowjob in the morning.  But now, tonight, he was hungry to feel you around him, and as he slowly slid into you, he savored every moment of it. 

“Fuck,” he groaned, tossing his head back as he buried himself in your heat. “You’re fuckin perfect, kitten...”

You moaned back, the feeling of his thick cock stretching your pussy around it causing you to momentarily forget your words. As he drew out and then snapped his hips forward, you grunted, biting down on your lip as you closed your eyes. He felt incredible, rubbing past all the right spots inside of you as he found a rhythm he liked and began fucking you mercilessly. His hands were grabbing you wherever they could, be it your hips or tits or hair, and as he fell further and further into his desire for you, you could feel his chest brushing over your back as he leaned down. 

“You’re such a good girl,” he growled, nipping at your ear. “Who do you belong to?”

“Y-you,” you choked out, trying to turn and look at him. “I-I belong to you, Victor...”

“Good girl.” he snarled, squeezing the side of your ass cheek as hard as he could. 

The moan you let out was absolutely filthy, and as your pussy squeezed around him, you felt yourself beginning to come undone once more. He pounded into you and your moans and cries grew louder and louder, a symphony of pleasure as you climaxed, and Zsasz followed soon after, moaning your name in your ear as he filled you up. Your pussy milked him, squeezing every last drop out of his cock, and as he caught his breath, you could feel him pressing lazy kisses against the back of your neck. 

“Fuck,” he panted. 

You straightened up and he wrapped his arms around you, hugging you against his chest as he refused to let you go. It was quiet for a moment as you both came down from your highs, the sound of the shower the only thing breaking the silence. Finally, he allowed you to turn around, and as you faced him, you saw a surprisingly serene expression on his face. 

“Stay with me.” he said. It was less of a request and more of a demand.

“What about Roman?” you asked, legs still quivering. 

“The boss’ll understand.”

And that was that.

Zsasz washed the blood off of your skin, insisting that you let him do all the work, and afterwards, he gave you a plush bathrobe to wear. You spent the night in Victor’s bed, and you did wake him up with a surprise blowjob, even without him asking you to. After a round of morning sex, you walked out into the penthouse in your bathrobe to see Roman Sionis already sitting at the table, and for a moment, you froze. You had almost forgotten where you were, and there was your boss, Gotham’s newest and nastiest godfather, spreading some cream cheese on a gourmet bagel.

“Ah,” he said, glancing up as he heard you. “You’re still here.”

“I...uh...” 

“Mornin’, boss.” Victor said, walking out behind you. He was fully dressed, looking and acting as if he hadn’t taken home a girl the night before. 

“The car is waiting for you.” Roman grunted, far more interested in his breakfast than he was in the conversation. “Be quick about it.”

Zsasz bowed his head and turned to you, holding his hand out expectantly. When you only stared at him, he almost rolled his eyes. “Your house keys, princess.”

“My...what?” you asked. “For what?”

“So I can get your things.”

“What things?”

“You’re moving in.” Roman said dismissively, as if it were obvious. 

“...What?”

“You’ve been promoted. Or did you forget?” he asked, giving you a look that suggested he was already tired of your questions. “You’ll be staying here, until you either die, or I fire you, or both. Now, be a dear and give Mr. Zsasz your keys, so that he can get your necessities. I’ll have some new clothes ordered for you this afternoon.”

You stared at him for a moment and then looked at Victor. “They’re in my bag down in the dressing room. But--”

Before you had a chance to finish and tell him that this really wasn’t necessary, he was already gone, calling the elevator so that he could obediently go down to the club and rummage through your purse. You had no doubt that he could get into your locker on his own, and as much as you really didn’t want or need him to go to the effort, you weren’t entirely mad about it. Living with Victor--and Roman--didn’t seem like that bad a deal, and if it meant that you’d get to have more fun with Zsasz, you were all in. 

“Well, glad that’s settled.” Roman said, sitting back and wiping the edge of his mouth with a fancy little cloth napkin. “Welcome to the Sionis penthouse, Princess.”

[ncssian]

A Favor: Part Ten

Nessian Modern AU

Masterlist

warnings: NSFW (!!), light abuse mention

this chapter is dedicated to the amazing showstopping talented @duskandstarlight for reviewing my writing and helping me successfully edit the sexy times!! she's so cool yall ❤️

***

The first thing she notices when she steps inside is the sound of crackling, followed by a warm glow from the living area. The lights are all off, but the fireplace is ablaze.

Nesta’s brows furrow, confused, but then she sees on the couch— “Cassian?”

Cassian’s eyes widen at the sight of her, and he stands quickly from the couch. “Nesta.” He’s breathless. Like he ran a great distance to get here.

Nesta is worried that she had one Jello shot too many. That maybe she’s still in Eris’s car, dozed off and dreaming. She can’t remember falling asleep, though.

“What are you doing here?” she whispers. If she’s too loud, he might disappear.

“I came back.” His hands flex at his sides, and Nesta wishes for the millionth time that she was better at reading emotions, because she’d give anything to understand what’s going across his face right now.

“You’re supposed to be in Velaris for the weekend,” she says dumbly.

“Fuck the weekend. I couldn’t even make it through dinner.” Are his eyes red?

Nesta’s mouth opens and closes, and she turns toward the burning fireplace. Weirdly enough, she’s grateful for the lack of lights. She can’t see the depth of Cassian’s expression under the firelight alone, and he can’t see hers.

“Why?” is all she can say.

“I…” He scrubs a hand through his hair and blows out a harsh breath. “Shit, we promised we would take things slow just a few days ago.” He laughs derisively. “I don’t know what I was thinking.”

Nesta’s head swivels to Cassian, eyes focused on him in that intense way of hers. “Tell me. I want to know what you were thinking.”

He drops his head, staring at his shoes. “I missed you,” he says lowly. “Even though I knew you were doing perfectly fine without me, I drove all the way back here like an idiot because I wanted to see you.”

Nesta’s throat tightens the longer she stares at Cassian; it’s getting hard to breathe.

Cassian clears his throat in the silence, attempting to sound lighthearted. “So, that’s how I’m doing. What about you?”

“I had fun,” Nesta says, somewhat quiet.

“I saw.” He tries to smile. “You looked so happy in that picture. It made me happy.”

He’s telling the truth and lying at the same time, Nesta can tell. “I felt weird tonight, too,” she admits, swallowing. “Happy, but… lacking."

Cassian looks up at that.

“I’m really glad you came back,” she whispers. “I missed you too.”

“Nesta,” he breathes.

She takes a step closer to him. “I didn’t want to be clingy. Tell me if I’m being clingy.”

He shakes his head quickly.

“I don’t think you should leave me alone again,” she says into the dim glow of the room. "Not for a while, at least."

"I'm thinking the same thing."

He's right in front of her now, just inches away. She swallows; when did he get so close?

"If you want me to stop, I need to know now," Cassian says, voice low. His hands hover in the air between them, like he has to physically restrain himself from reaching out and touching her. "Because in a minute I won't remember why we agreed to take this slow."

All the air leaves Nesta's lungs in a straight whoosh. "I already forgot."

This kiss happens faster than the last one, but is somehow still slow— Nesta doesn't know which one of them moves first. All she knows is that one moment she's a lone figure, and the next she's joined with Cassian, his arms being the only thing still holding her upright.

He wasn't lying when he said he missed her, she finds out quickly. He kisses her with a drawn-out desperation that makes her head spin, using the distraction to ease her out of her coat and drop it to the floor. He pulls back for a sharp breath, only to take a look at her. "I can't believe I missed seeing you in a dress."

"I have more, we can look at them later," Nesta assures, her hands already reaching to tear the dress up and off of her. Cassian's hands catch hers at the last moment. "Easy, baby." He laces his fingers through hers. "I'm not going anywhere."

He pulls her in for another kiss before she can even process how much she likes the word baby. She latches onto his promise the way she latches onto his lips, like the string of a balloon about to fly away from her. He's not going anywhere. Not even to the next room.

The next minutes are the gentlest battle of wills Nesta has ever fought: every time she tries to speed things up, Cassian grounds her with his hands and mouth and towering form. When she becomes too impatient and reaches for the button of Cassian's jeans between kisses, he sweeps her right into his arms, forcing her legs to wrap around his waist and her arms to cling to his neck. His own hands slip right under her skirt, straight to her ass and squeezing.

The new angle presses her center firmly against his hard length, and she greedily accepts the simple pleasure he grants her with a choked gasp. "Can we please—"

"Don't rush this," Cassian murmurs into the underside of her jaw, walking them to the stairs. He stops to press her into the banister, rubbing his hips lazily into Nesta's. "I've waited a long time for you. Now it's your turn to wait." He bites down on a soft spot of skin.

This is real, Nesta finally realizes. This melting heat turning her limbs into jelly— it's not her mind wandering off to involuntary thoughts about Cassian's dick. The kind of thoughts that have her pinching her wrist hard enough to hurt. No, this is infinitely better than any three a.m. fantasy she's had so far.

He's carrying them upstairs now, but Nesta barely notices with how she's clasping his face, demanding all of his attention with her hungry kisses. It's a wonder they both don't topple down the steps with how starved she is for him.

How long has this need been building up in her? She doesn't want to know, even as the ache between her legs intensifies and she's eased onto a mattress. Blinking, she notices they're in Cassian's room. She hasn't been here since that night she was sick, and even then she didn't get a good look at the place through her haze of pain.

It's decorated with art and personal photos, big enough to carry a fireplace and a wall of floor-to-ceiling windows. Her own room isn't half as nice. "You've been holding back from me," she accuses.

Cassian looks up from where he's kneeling between Nesta's legs at the foot of the bed, realizing that she's talking about the room. "Why?" he smirks. "You looking to move in?"

As if she can even consider such a thing right now when she's seconds away from combusting.

Like he knows exactly how she feels, Cassian pushes the hem of her black dress up until it bunches around her waist, leaving her painfully exposed. His eyes glaze over at the sight of her plain gray panties, narrowing on the darker damp spot over her slit. A predatory look crosses his face, one that makes goosebumps pebble along her thighs. He tugs her even closer.

"Cassian..."

It's too late for whatever Nesta is about to say, because Cassian isn't listening anymore. Leaning forward, he noses at her clothed crotch, placing a slow kiss on the wet fabric of her underwear before dragging it off entirely and tossing it aside.

Nesta gasps and squirms when he pulls her legs firmly over his shoulders. "Um," she tries to say, "I don't really have a great history of getting off to oral—"

She's interrupted by a long lick up her center, from the wetness pooling at her entrance to the tip of her clit. Her hips jerk involuntarily, and then Cassian is outright feasting on her, all his words of patience suddenly as meaningless as a snapped leash.

Nesta's head falls back against the mattress with both overwhelming pleasure and unexpected surprise. Getting eaten out has never done much for her in the past— most of the time she just ended up wet and frustrated, and not at all in a good way. She believed coming on someone's tongue was an activity best reserved for her romance novel heroines, never herself.

So when her legs start trembling around Cassian's head after not even a minute of calculated licking and openmouthed kissing—

"Oh— ah," Nesta stammers, hands fisted desperately in the bedsheets since she doesn't know where else to put them. The only thing stopping her from rubbing herself all over Cassian's face are his broad hands, pinning her firmly in place while he gives her what he wants.

His deep groan rumbles through her heated core, right down to her bloodstream. "There's no fucking way," he says against her folds, shaking his head. "Your fucking taste—"

At the same time his hands find hers, interlacing their fingers together, his lips wrap around her swollen clit, sucking hard.

A breathy whimper tears out of Nesta's throat as she's thrown into release, every last nerve in her body shot through with electric pleasure. Cassian keeps licking and toying at her folds, until she can feel the overstimulation all the way down to the arches of her feet. It's only then that she tries to squirm away, feeling too much at once.

Cassian relents, wiping his mouth with the back of a hand, but the dark glint in his eyes says he has a new objective. "Aren't you glad you waited?" he rasps as he stands.

In Nesta's haze, she feels a tug of fabric, and then her dress is being pulled over her head. She can't remember if the bra she's wearing is a particularly sexy one, but before she can lift her head to check, it's being flung to the other side of the room to join the rest of her clothes. She doesn't even shiver, but sits up so she can grab at Cassian, any part of him—

He tries to catch her wrists before she can tear his clothes off, but Nesta isn't having any more of his waiting. Her hands dive under the hem of his sweater, his bare skin burning hot to the touch with arousal, and then he's shirtless. Her eyes rapidly skim over his scattered tattoos, not sure which one she wants to take in first as she fumbles with his pants.

"I'm going to learn all of you by the end of the night," she threatens, her focus catching on a pattern of thick black lines inked onto his ribs.

Cassian huffs a laugh at that, but the sound turns strangled when Nesta slips her hand into his jeans, palming him through his boxer briefs. He's— larger than she expected, but whatever apprehension she has quickly turns into nailbiting anticipation. This is real, she thinks for the hundredth time that night.

"You're one to talk," Cassian breathes as he lets Nesta rub and squeeze at him. He catches her slim wrist in his large hand, pulling it away from his cock despite her whine of disappointment. "I've been wanting to learn about you from day one."

His eyes narrow on a spot beneath her left tit, and he reaches out to brush the small mole there. "How many more of these do you have hidden?"

"You'll have to find them."

Cassian's gaze darkens, and Nesta can nearly feel time slowing down around them as he regains control of the pace, the tempo. Leaning forward with predatory intent, he crowds her until her back is once again pressed into the mattress. She shudders with expectation, her legs unconsciously parting wider around him. He bends his head until his breath fans over that mole, his lips about to brush it—

At the last moment, he pulls away, standing off the bed to strip the rest of his clothes off. Nesta scrambles onto her elbows, stretching her neck to get a look at his erect cock as it springs out, a furious shade of red.

She swallows roughly at the sight.

Cassian doesn't bother hiding his satisfaction at the look on her face. "Maybe it's for the best that I didn't know how much you wanted me earlier. I don't think my ego could have handled it."

"I..." Nothing comes to her mind for a witty comeback. She must look struck stupid, because Cassian chuckles, "Okay, my ego definitely can't handle it." He tugs at her legs so her elbows collapse beneath her.

Before they can do anything else, he seems to remember: "Condom."

Nesta shakes her head rapidly, unwilling— or unable— to give up even a second of the time between them. "I'm not on birth control for nothing."

Technically, she's on birth control to regulate her periods, but this is definitely an unexpected benefit.

Cassian's answering grin is both cocky and reverent before he moves. And as he crawls over her body, it strikes Nesta how far she's come to reach this place— this haven of warmth and safety. Because the last time she was in this position, she couldn't have imagined ever being able to feel like this. She never thought she could find or earn the adoration that shines in Cassian's eyes before he buries his face in her neck.

There's a kindness in his touch that takes her breath away.

"I think I fell asleep on the couch earlier," he whispers into the crook of her neck. "I think I'm dreaming right now, and I don't know how far I can take this without waking up."

Before Nesta can show him how decidedly awake they both are, her entire body freezes up as his roaming hands near the soft flesh of her sides. Muscle memory makes her abdomen clench in defense, and Cassian stills instantly, pulling away to look her in the eyes.

No, no, no! This is not the time for her body to overreact, not when she's so close to everything she's been wanting, needing for weeks. And still, her hands fly to grasp Cassian's wrists at her sides.

"Nesta?" His calloused fingers scrape against her skin, so different from Tomas's hands when they touched her. She shuts her eyes and takes a breath, trying to force herself back to that heartdropping state of arousal.

"Just—give me a moment," she promises. Her body is awake in anticipation, not of a good fucking but of being pinched and bruised blue.

"Nesta," Cassian says again, lower now. There's a hint of warning in his voice, but it's not directed at her.

She peeks open her eyes. Cassian looks deadly serious above her, and he peels his hands away from her sides to place them on the mattress instead. "What's wrong."

She clambers for something to say that won't completely kill the mood. "I'm ticklish?"

He isn't buying it, scanning her face intently for the truth instead.

It's not that Nesta doesn't want to tell him. It's that she doesn't want to tell him now, when she's already learned what an orgasm from Cassian feels like and she's been promised another one.

No way in hell will her ex-boyfriend get in the way of her first hookup since she left him. The unjustness of it ignites a frustration in her that burns away any lingering anxiety.

She places her hands on Cassian's, bringing them firmly back to her sides. Softly, she tilts her head up to peck his lips and whisper against his mouth, "You still have time to learn everything about me. I'll teach you myself. But right now..."

Her hand snakes down his hard abdomen, finding his thick length and squeezing. "I want to be fucked."

This truth, Cassian believes.

"I'll hold you to that promise," he warns before he dips his head, taking a pink nipple into his mouth and suckling hard. Nesta's damn eyes roll back at the perfection of this scene, this sensation that goes beyond physical pleasure, as he releases her nipple with a pop. "I'll learn everything." Not just her body, but her secrets, her soul, the way she breathes and feels and thinks.

What a terrifying vulnerability, yet her core tightens at the thought of it.

Cassian slips his hands beneath Nesta's thighs, supporting her as his cock finally, finally settles between her legs, pressing insistently against her slick entrance.

Nesta can't describe the sound she makes when he finally pushes into her, the luxurious stretch snapping an emotional cord in her. In Cassian, too, from the way he has to bow his head for a moment, his face pressed into her chest as they both catch their breaths.

After a long moment, he begins to move inside her at a steady pace that nearly makes her keen. Nesta can only let him grind her into the mattress, let him explore and play and touch while she writhes beneath him, head spinning so fast she's on the verge of blacking out. She couldn't have predicted such— closeness.

Clenching tight enough around his cock to make him swear, Nesta attaches her lips to the line of a compass tattoo on Cassian's bicep, shutting her eyes against the intensity of his gaze.

"Can't believe I don't have to pretend not to be obsessed with these anymore," Cassian rasps, palming a full breast. He rolls his thumb over her stiff nipple in fascination.

"As if you ever hid it," Nesta grits out, shuddering beneath him. She swallows down the obscene sounds rising up her throat. Not that it matters— her desperate panting seems to be doing more for Cassian than loud moans ever could. Raw tension laces his body as he pumps harder into her.

His thrusts hit so close to a spot she didn't know existed before now, awakening a greedy new ache—

"Lift your hips for me, baby." As if he can read her mind. Nesta arches her hips off the bed on instinct, allowing Cassian the angle to slide deeper than she thought possible, to grind against that sensitive patch of skin and fill her completely.

Holy shit. She doesn't know if she says the words aloud or not, because her face is pressed into the sweat-dampened pillow, eyes fluttering rapidly as she withstands this new immense pleasure.

Cassian's low moan tells her he knows how she feels. She's so close.

"Look at me, Nesta," he demands.

Nesta shakes her head fiercely into the pillowcase, unwilling to meet his gaze when she's strung up this tight. She might explode if she even breathes wrong.

"Open your eyes," he orders more urgently this time. His hand finds her face, forcing her to turn to him. She gasps at the next thrust, her eyes flying open to meet Cassian's dark hazel ones. The way he's looking at her—

He rubs a thumb down her cheek. "Beautiful."

She isn't prepared for the intensity of the release that barrels through her. She isn't aware of the sounds she makes as she clenches repeatedly around Cassian, hands scrabbling for a way out of this neverending rapture. It's too much, more than she can handle, and she can't—

Cassian clutches Nesta like a lifeline, his hips picking up speed. Through the last ebbs of her climax, Nesta winds her fingers through his hair, bringing him down for a final kiss. She holds him tight as he spills inside her, groaning desperately into her mouth.

Later, when dopamine floods her system and her muscles turn numb with relaxation, Nesta will think that there's a word for how she's feeling right now. She won't know what it is, though.

***

Cassian can't help but be proud of himself for keeping his cool. For not coming within five seconds of getting Nesta in his arms and around his cock, but also for not blurting anything embarrassingly vulnerable during their first time together. Or their second and third times.

Nesta isn't great with vulnerability, even now. But he's watching her try to grow comfortable with it as she traces one of his tattoos, her naked body propped half on top of his.

"I usually hate tattoos," she murmurs softly, almost to herself. "I cringe every time Feyre gets a new one. But these are nice."

Cassian glances down to where her finger points at the elaborate phoenix tattoo on his pectoral. "What do you like about them?" he asks. With Nesta, there's always a reason.

"I like their placement." She trails that finger down his chest with studious focus. "I like the dark lines; it reminds me of my coloring books." Her finger stops on a Celtic knot on the side of his ribs. "Overall, very aesthetically pleasing."

He chuckles. "Thank you for the stellar review."

She glances up at him then, those blue-gray eyes even more arresting now than the first time he saw them. He's never understood how they can be the same color as Feyre's yet so different.

"I still can't believe you walked out in the middle of Thanksgiving dinner to be here," she whispers. "What will your friends say?"

Cassian’s arm tightens around her. He's still not sure of the answer to that question. His phone blew up with so many texts and calls on the drive here that at one point he just turned it off, but he'll still have to come up with some believable excuse for his behavior.

He tries to find an answer to Nesta's question.

"I’ve known most of those guys for fifteen years," he finally says, "and I’ve only had you for a couple of months. I wanted more time with you." It's the best reasoning he can provide right now.

“Maybe I should feel bad.” He stares up at the ceiling. “But I just can’t.”

Nesta hums in thought. "You must really like me."

Cassian swallows. "Yeah. I do."

"You have for a long time, according to your words." She rests her chin on the crook of his shoulder and looks up at him. "How long? Since I first moved in?"

He thinks back to that fateful night, Nesta standing rainsoaked in his foyer with wary eyes. A turning point in his life, yes, but there was a night before that.

"Do you remember our first meeting?"

The overpriced restaurant that Feyre chose to introduce her blood family to her chosen family. The dim lighting that glanced off the silver pins in Nesta's hair, and her solemn stare as she inspected Cassian and his friends in her detached way.

Her eyes narrow, but she nods.

"I noticed you before I even noticed Feyre or Rhys," Cassian says. "You just... demanded attention. You never gave it, though. I spent all night being louder than usual, sneaking looks at you, but I couldn't even get a second glance in return."

Nesta's mouth tightens. "And what then?"

"The night ended. I forgot about you and moved on." She was like a shooting star: fascinating and beautiful for the brief moment she passed through his life, but quickly dismissed afterward. That initial impression of Nesta faded so much over the years that when Cassian finally reunited with her in his cabin, he was shocked by the magnitude of her existence all over again.

Nesta stays quiet, thinking. "You did get my attention," she finally says.

Cassian's brows raise, but she continues, "I thought you were too loud, too absorbed in your own friends to ever be worth having a conversation with. But I was just being snooty and... jealous." She looks down at the planes of his brown skin. "If I wasn't busy being comfortable in my role as social outcast, I would have thought you were kind. You looked like you wouldn't mind being my friend— that's why I noticed you. But you weren't my friend, and you couldn't be, and that's why I made myself look down on you."

Her eyes glitter when they dart back up to him, and her hand starts absentmindedly tracing another tattoo. "I do that sometimes," she murmurs. "Build a whole relationship in my head with someone I've just met, and then get mad when it isn't reality."

Cassian pulls a strand of hair back from her face. "That's called wanting to make friends, Nes. It's just that that part is usually followed by, you know, actually making friends."

She pouts adorably. "That's the part I suck at."

He can't help it. He leans forward and kisses the little beauty mark at the corner of Nesta's mouth, the mark that nearly received more attention than her lips tonight. Memories of the rest of the moles scattered along Nesta's body flood Cassian: her shoulder blade, her ribs, below her ass cheek, and that damn spot on her thigh he's been eyeing since week one. He's tasted every single one of them several times by now.

"You finally did it," he says against her mouth. "You got me as your friend and more, and now you have all those guys from school, too. You can get whatever the hell you want when you aren't holding yourself back."

She rolls her eyes, but evidence of a smile pulls at her lips. "Save the motivational speeches for my therapist."

Another thing Cassian is eternally proud of: Nesta finding a professional she's comfortable with and having her first session coming up soon.

"And what do you want?" she asks before his thoughts can trail off.

He blinks up at her. "Hm?"

She shifts on top of him to face him better. "We're always talking about my feelings and wants and needs. I don't think I've ever learned about what you want."

What does he want? He opens his mouth, but doesn't know how to answer. Shit, he's never had to answer that question. He's never been asked it.

"Take your time," Nesta assures him after a moment of silence. She's not being sarcastic.

He inhales the scent of her hair, thinking.

"You know," he finally says, "I'm always talking with my friends, and I always leave the conversation feeling like I didn't say a thing that was worth anything. Nothing serious, nothing weighty, nothing thoughtful. And it's not a bad thing, technically, but sometimes I just want to have a real conversation with them. Like the ones I have with you."

He doesn't know when he and Nesta started having those types of conversations. Maybe they fell seamlessly into it: she would ask him how to interpret different tones over text, and he would ask her about whatever legal concept or romance novel she was currently obsessed with. The topic didn't have to be serious, as long as their words were. It was the flawless exchange of intelligence, ideas, and opinions that he wasn't even aware he craved.

"What else do you want?" she says.

To not be relegated to comedic relief all the time. To be chosen first.

He boops her nose. "You've ruined me. I have everything I want now."

Nesta sneers down at him. "God, you're predictable." She's about to push off his chest when he pulls her back in, rolling them over so they're on their sides.

He tucks her head under his chin. "Nesta?"

"Hm."

"We're not gonna backpedal after this, right?"

She sighs into the crook of his neck. "No. We like each other. You're my boyfriend now." She says it like she's telling him the time or the weather.

Into her hair, Cassian starts to smile, any lingering doubts at once assuaged.

Some things you just know instantly, like how Cassian knew the minute he met Mor that they would be friends for life, or how he knew Feyre wouldn't have any trouble fitting into his family. Like how he knows now that he loves Nesta, even if he can't tell her just yet. He'll just have to keep pretending he only likes her.

***

a/n: the tattoo artist that designed the new acotar covers has some sick work so a lot of cassian's tattoos are based off their art (but smaller) :)

taglist: @ladywitchling @sjm-things @thewayshedreamed @drielecarla @sensitiveillyrian @superspiritfestival @aliveahaahahafuck @cupcakey00 @sayosdreams @rainbowcheetah512 @claralady @thebluemartini @nessiantho @missing-merlin @duskandstarlight @lucy617 @sleeping-and-books @everything-that-i-love @cassianscool @awesomelena555 @julemmaes @wickedqueenoffantasy @poisonous-bloom @observationanxioustheorist @gisellefigue08 @courtofjurdan @theoverlyenthusiasticwriter @wolfiixxx @cass-nes @seashade @royaltykxx @illyrianundercover @queenestarcheron @monstrousloves-explodinggalaxies @humanexile @that-golden-lyre @agentsofsheilds @mercy-is-alive @cassiansbigwingspan @laylaameer01 @verypaleninja @maastrash @bow-dawn

[lovesanmotion]

If Without You - San

💌 This is: requested 

Summary: You fell in love for your best friend’s dad 

Every person has a dirty little secret they all keep, right? No matter the weight of the secret, they choose not to reveal it, but sometimes, someone or something, a force, makes them want to reveal the secret. 

In your case, the idea of hooking up with someone else’s husband has been clouding your thoughts. The source? Your best friend’s dad. Choi San, a dream husband whose every teenage girls’ dream husbands want to be like - handsome, muscular, understanding, funny and a cock that can end the loneliness you feel in the pit of your pussy. 

The thoughts started to swirl around your head when he came home one night while you and your best friend were having an overnight at their house. Mrs. Choi was almost never home and you were always curious as to what does Mrs Choi does in life. When your best friend went over to the bathroom, in came her father, Mr Choi or would preferred to be called San. But you still insist in calling him Mr Choi just for the formalities. 

You stared at him for a good two minutes and wondered was he always that good looking? His coat already off his shoulders, tie lazily hung around the neck and the first two buttons already undone. You gulped as the sight alone made a pooling feeling between your legs. 

“Hi Y/N! Have you eaten?” He asks, a soft smile painting his face as he is going over to the kitchen counter where you and your friend are pulling an all nighter to finish a mountain pile load of homework that are all due in a few days. Placing his satchel on one of the chairs before removing his tie. 

“I have already Mr. Choi. How is your day at work?” You ask, slightly leaning forward to him, crossing your legs to contain the dripping wetness that would soon be evident on your underwear and through your thin cotton black shorts. 

“No one ever asks me how my day is, but I had a long day and I’m glad that you and Miyeong are doing schoolwork. Makes me feel relieved that my daughter cares about her education.” He chuckles softly, taking a glass of water before taking a sip. “Don’t tell her I said that.” You chuckled softly and shook your head. 

“If you ever need anything, don’t hesitate to call me.” He says, winking at you before disappearing into your room. As soon as he faded into your view, you let out a soft sigh and slightly spreaded your legs open as you feel liquids escaping your entrance. Was it possible to cum by just winking at you? 

From that night on, you would feel a weird but heated feeling around Mr Choi. You couldn’t understand this feeling and what it was, but you always looked forward to going over to you Miyeong’s house to get some homework done. Or was it really the homework? 

“I can’t believe we are going to do a movie marathon but I forgot to buy snacks. Fucking hell.” Miyeong snaps as she enters the living room, taking her coat and wallet in her hands. “I’ll make a quick trip to the convenient store and buy snacks. Anything you want?” She asks as she turns to take a glance at you. 

“Just jellies!” Miyeong nodded her head and left the house. It was only you, home alone while flipping through the channels when Mr Choi came home. 

“Hello Y/N!” He greeted, his once stressed look washed away by the smile he casted to you. “Hello Mr Choi” you smiled back to him. He placed his bag on top of the dining table before opening his wine cabinet. “Wine?” he asks, standing up from the couch and going over besides him, hoping that your fitted plain white shirt and denim shorts were enough to make him drool at you. 

Your eyes darted at the various options, pretending to be smart in the winery department. “That one” you pointed at the top shelf, standing on your tiptoes to reach for it but to no avail. Until a hand placed on your waist, something rock hair poking your ass cheeks as Mr Choi towers you from behind and takes the most shiraz bottle. 

“Good choice” he spoke, merely a whisper before handing you the wine bottle. “I hope you know how to open caps” he says. You blushed and shook your head. “I’m sorry, I get scared when opening these things. Can you teach me?” San makes a dimpled grin before going behind you and opening the cap. There it was again, a rock hard feeling rubbing through your clothed ass crack, gulping as you felt Mr Choi’s nose in your hair. 

“That’s how you open it” he whispers before taking the bottle and pouring a few contents onto a wine glass and handing it to you. “Have a sip” he smiles as he handed you the glass. “But what about you Mr Choi?” you asked, taking the glass in your hands and bringing it close to your lips and taking a sip. The strong aroma flared your nostrils and the dry taste burned your throat, pulling the glass away, you were surprised when a pair of lips found yours. 

San placed his lips on yours before leaning away. “The wine tastes strong, considering that I bought it from Rome. But it became sweet and soft.” he chuckles, face a few inches away from you. You smiled as you stared into his eyes. “Would you want to taste it again?” You asked, and San took it as an invitation to place his lips onto yours once more. The kiss was hungry yet passionate, his arms wrapping around your waist as he pulled you closer to his body and you reciprocating by wrapping your arms around his nape. 

Slowly he guides you to the edge of the dining table, positioning his leg between your thighs and opening you up to him. “You taste so good” he groans, pushing his tongue inside your mouth. You moan as you felt his cock throbbing on your thigh. Quickly you took each other’s clothes off before Miyeong could arrive, his lips crashed to yours once more and guided you towards the living room, plopping down on the soft matress. 

“Are you sure?” He asks as he leans away from the kiss, I smiled up at him and nodded my head. “I’m sure.” A soft chuckle escapes his lips, “Well if you insist, who am I to reject” his lips latched onto your neck, sucking and licking a spot while his hand rubs your crotch. You moaned, tilting your head to the other side to grant him more access only to moan louder as you felt his fingers push up inside of you. 

“So wet...so nice and warm” You gasp, his fingers pulling and pushing into your slick folds, biting your lower lip as his hand fucks your pussy gently at first until he begins to move his hand into your cunt fast and deep . “God, I want to fuck you.” 

His fingers slipped away, earning him a sound from you. Until it was replaced by his cock slamming into your tight hole, you tensed up as he thrusts in and out of your roughly, quick jerks and quick breaths. He leans down and nips at your earlobe, fingers digging into the skin of your hips as his cock roars and pulses deep inside of you.  

You continue to cry and moan his name and shudder as his hand find your clit and you jerk in surprise, spinning you into an edge of your orgasm. You cling onto his body, your hands sliding down his back and he’s still so hard in your still wet pussy. 

He pulls away and pins your arms besides your head. “You’re so pretty Y/N.” he whispers, placing soft kisses onto your chest while his cock continues to ravage in and out of you. You start to feel yourself get tenser, knowing that you couldn’t possibly hold it any longer. Your legs start to shake, rocking back and forth with him inside of you. He goes down a bit goes fast and hard hitting your g spot. And as you screamed his name at the top of your lungs along with San deeply groaning and grunting as he shoots his hot liquids into you, mixing with your cum, the door swings open. 

Mrs Choi came home. 

[harringrovetrashrat]

Intercrurral prompt: Billy’s been harassing Steve all year, and it’s taking everything Steve has not to think bisexual thoughts about the guy he HATES. But one night, wrong place and wrong time, where they run into each other in the woods while Steve is on demodog patrol and Billy is escaping a bad run-in with Neil. Things boil over - the biggest imagery I have is Billy harshly whispering in Steve’s ear “Tell me you want this. TELL me you want ME.”

Okay, okay, okay

Here we GO.  Alright.  It took me a moment to find just the right way to do this, but I finally got it.

And it somehow ended up over 3k, whoooops. Let’s hope the read more actually works this time lol

TW for one use of the f-slur and misogynist language from Billy.

--

Steve ran a hand over his face as he stomped through the trees.  The cold February air bit at his skin, made his nose run.  Steve sniffed for what felt like the millionth time, still unable to stop the jittering in his bones.  He couldn’t go home.  Things felt too still, too quiet tonight.  Something was going to happen.  Steve could feel it.

He twirled the bat again, stretching out his fingers.  The trees were dark against the snow, the cloudless night allowing the moon to shine in through breaks in the trees.  Steve bit his lip, thinking about the day.  It sent a spike of warmth to his gut and he frowned, annoyed with himself.

It wasn’t much different than normal.  He spent the day tailing after Nancy and Jonathan, ignoring Tommy when he passed him in the hall, and trying to keep his dick to behave whenever Billy pressed up against him.  Or pushed him.  Or teased him.  Or fucking looked at him, jesus.  Steve had a problem and he really didn’t want to have it.  He’s looked at guys before, done stuff before, but of all fucking people, his dick had to be interested in Billy fucking Hargrove.

He’d prefer his dick be interested in Jonathan.

There was a snap from a few meters ahead in the trees and Steve froze, all thoughts exiting his brain.  His blood pumped through his veins and his pulse skyrocketed as he adjusted his grip on the bat.  He quietly made his way forward, looking through the brush for anything weird.  Anything slimy.  There were some dark spots on the ground that Steve followed, panic clawing its way into his chest.

“Fuck!” He heard someone hiss.  The sound came from in front of him and Steve relaxed minutely.  It wasn’t demodogs.

That didn’t mean there wasn’t still a threat.

Steve did his best to make sure his shoes didn’t crunch too much in the snow as he approached a clearing.  Someone was sitting on a log, hunched over on themselves, but they looked human enough.  There wasn’t any weird smell, nothing too obviously weird, so Steve lowered the bat.

“Hello?” The person on the log jumped, standing and whirling around, fists up and ready.  Bruised as well.  Which was why Steve wasn’t surprised to find himself looking at Billy Hargrove.

A messed up Billy Hargrove.

He had a black eye and a bloody nose, with what looked like a small cut at his hairline.  Steve kind of wished he hadn’t said anything.  Billy relaxed minutely, face scrunching into a sneer.

“Harrington?  What the fuck are you doing out here?  Mommy and Daddy playing house?” Steve ignored the sting, flaring his nostrils as he flexed his hand around the bat.  Billy’s eyes darted down before widening.  “What the fuck?” His voice lost it’s teasing edge, verging into actually scared.

“Oh,” Steve said, not wanting to drop the bat in case he needed it.  For whatever reason.  “Just-- On a walk.”

“On a walk?” Billy droned, unimpressed.  “Really?  Do you think I’m a fucking idiot?” Steve bristled and whatever was in the air that night pressed him forward, made him confrontational.

“Maybe,” he replied.  Billy tensed up, nostrils flaring as he grit his teeth.  “Smart people don’t come out here at night.” Billy barked out a mean laugh.

“S’Why you’re out here then, huh?” Steve stopped a few feet away, slinging the bat over his shoulder.  Now that he was closer, he could see that Billy’s cut was still bleeding.  Could see that his wounds were fresh.  That he was shaking.

“Seriously,” Steve said.  “The woods around here aren’t safe.”

“Safer than other places,” Billy grumbled angrily.  He looked up at Steve, eyes sharp.  “If they’re so unsafe, why are you out here for a walk?” Steve’s mind went blank as he grasped for a reason.

“I-- Well, I mean--”

“You out here meeting some fag lover?” Billy said, smile sharp and mean.  Steve clenched his fist, cheeks going ruddy.  Billy tilted his head, pushing his cheek out with his tongue.  Steve couldn’t help the way his eyes were drawn there.

“No,” he replied, stony.  “Honestly just out for a walk.”

“Really?  You and Creep Byers don’t meet up when Wheeler’s being too much of a bitch?” Steve gripped the bat tightly, scowling.

“Don’t call her that,” he snapped.  Billy snorted, hiding a grimace, and rolled his eyes.

“She left you, man,” he said.  “And you follow her and her new boyfriend around like a fucking lost dog.” Steve felt his cheeks heating up again, felt a blush creeping down his neck.

“Fuck you,” he said.  “It’s called having friends, ever heard of it?” Billy sneered, getting up into Steve’s space.  It made it a little hard to think, having him this close.  Close enough that Steve could see where Billy would freckle in the sun, how blue his eyes were, could fucking smell him.  He pushed the thoughts down, ignoring the heat in belly, just from having Billy close.  Stupid dick.

“You think you’re so above everyone, everything, don’t you?” Steve rolled his eyes, letting the bat fall to his side.  Billy wasn’t a threat, not really.  Not worthy of the bat at least.

“What’s your issue, man?” Steve asked.  Billy shoved him a little, making Steve take a step back.

“You’re my issue, Harrington,” he snapped.  “And I told you to fucking plant your feet.”

“What the fuck did I ever--”

“Your fucking existence fucking pisses me off!” Billy shoved him again, harder this time, and Steve let out a grunt, dropping the bat.  “You’ve got a fucking family that gives a shit, you’ve got fucking money, you’ve got fucking everything, and you--” Billy punctuated each reason with a shove, pushing until Steve was back up against a tree.  When he cut himself off, something flashed over his face.  Worry, fear, Steve wasn’t sure, but it was gone as soon as it was there.  “You, Harrington, just piss me off.”

“You don’t know shit about me, Hargrove,” Steve snapped, trying to push him off.  Billy pushed back, pinning him against the tree.  Steve let out a grunt, freezing up as Billy’s pressed up closer, getting into Steve’s face.  This was… dangerous.  Steve was already chubbing up in his pants and he swallowed thickly, giving some more frantic shoves to Billy’s shoulders.  “Fucking get off,” he said, voice high and pitchy.  Billy sneered, shoving Steve to the ground, standing above him.

“You’re such a fucking pussy,” he sneered.

“At least I’m not some fucking violent freak,” Steve said, sharp and cutting and cruel.  It’s what he wanted to be, in that moment.  Billy did that to him.  Brought out the King Steve who was mean, alone, and hurt.  And the words worked.  Billy snarled, jerking Steve up off the ground.  Steve grabbed at Billy’s hands, stumbling.

“Fuck you,” Billy hissed.  He gave Steve a shake, shoving him into another tree, slamming a hand next to his face.  Steve’s chest heaved with anxiety and, unfortunately, arousal.  He kind of had a thing for being manhandled.  At least, being manhandled by Billy.  The blonde pressed close, hurt shining in his eyes behind the fury.  It threw Steve for a bit of a loop.  “Fuck.  You.” Billy repeated, voice wobbling.  He pushed at Steve, pressing him up against the tree, before pausing.  His eyes widened and Steve flushed.  It was bound to happen, but Steve had held out some childish hope that Billy wouldn’t notice he’d been sporting a boner for a little while.  “What--”

“You’ve made your point--” Steve tried, tense as he tried to sink into the tree.

“Are you hard?” Billy asked.  Steve swallowed and closed his eyes, wishing the world could swallow him up.  “Seriously?”

“I’m not talking with you about this,” Steve squeaked, trying to move away.  Billy pinned him even more against the tree, sliding a leg between Steve’s thighs.  He let out an involuntary whimper.

“You are,” Billy said, almost with wonder.  Steve opened his eyes, meeting Billy’s blue ones.  They were calculating, stripping him down, and it made Steve shiver.  Billy’s tongue flicked over his bottom lip and his mouth curled up at the side.  “Is it from the lack of pussy?  Not enough girls begging to wet your dick?”

“Why are you so gross,” Steve breathed, closing his eyes again.  “It’s not-- Just drop it--”

“Oh, so you only get like this,” Billy trailed a finger over Steve’s clothed dick, making him let out a choked cry, “For me?” Steve’s eyes snapped open and Billy grinned.  There was something hungry in his eyes that made something hot curl through Steve, made him breath a little harder.  But, well, this was Billy.  He was probably fucking with him.

“Fuck off,” Steve breathed out, finding it hard to control his voice.  He tried to push at Billy’s shoulders, tried to avoid those piercing eyes, but Billy caught his face in one hand, making Steve look at him.  He slowly pushed his thumb into Steve’s mouth, pulling it open.  The salty taste of his skin on Steve’s tongue made him breathe harder, chest heaving, pupils dilating.

God he was gonna get the shit beat outta him for this.

“I thought I was,” Billy began, trailing off.  He pulled his lower lip into his mouth, tongue peeking out as he looked in Steve’s eyes, at his mouth, still open and panting.  Gripped Steve through his pants, making his legs tremble.  He was grateful for the tree behind him, that was for sure, otherwise he might have stumbled from his legs turning into jelly.  Steve’s chest heaved, nervous and aroused, and Billy exhaled heavily through his nose.

“Thaw yoo were wha?” Steve asked, breathy and mangled from Billy still holding his mouth open, thumb pressed against Steve’s tongue.

“The way you look at me,” Billy said, eyes heated now, hungry, almost rabid with want.  “Thought I was imagining it.  But this,” he rubbed over Steve’s erection again, making him tremble, “Suggests that maybe I wasn’t.” Steve stared at Billy, dick throbbing.  Billy licked over his bottom lip, almost unconsciously.  His eyes flicked down to Steve’s bulge, a weird groan escaping him.  It made Steve’s dick twitch in his jean almost painfully.  Billy’s eyes widened and his eyes snapped back up to Steve’s.

“‘illy,” Steve tried, still unable to speak clearly with that thick fucking thumb on his tongue.

“God,” Billy groaned, shaking again, but with restraint.  Like he was trying not to touch Steve more than he was already.  “You’re so fucking-- You want this, don’t you?” Steve tried to shake his head, to deny the fucking obvious truth.  “You want my dick in your mouth?  Stretching those pretty pink lips?” And god, Steve did.  He’d never had a dick in his mouth but god, did he want.  He nodded, weakly.  Billy tsked, pulling Steve’s mouth open more, until it almost hurt.  His dick shouldn’t have liked it as much as it did but, well.  “No no, Harrington,” Billy crooned.  “Use your words.” He leaned in, lips brushing against Steve’s ear as their bodies pressed together.  Steve couldn’t feel the cold, couldn’t feel anything but the heat of Billy’s body pressed against him.  Of his erection pressing against Steve’s thigh.  Fuck.  “Tell me you want this,” he hissed, breath puffing against Steve’s ear, sending goosebumps across his body.  He gave a full body shiver, could practically feel Billy’s grin against his lobe, a wet tongue slowly following the shell.  Steve felt like he couldn’t breathe and he never wanted it to stop.  “Tell me you want me.”

“‘uck , ‘illy,” Steve wheezed, arching his back so their hips ground together, eliciting a moan from himself and a hiss from Billy.  “Ye, ye, p’ease.” Billy’s hand fell out of his mouth, one hand gripping Steve’s hip as the other made quick work of his belt and zipper.  There was a damp spot on the outside of his jeans, the inside of his underwear sticky from where he had been steadily leaking, and Billy’s sharp inhale made Steve groan.  Billy looked at him, eyes hazy with lust as he licked his palm, maintaining eye contact as his gripped Steve’s dick, freed from the confines of his clothes.  Steve’s eyes fluttered closed and his mouth opened in a silent gasp as he tilted his head back, thunking against the tree.  “Fuck,” he whined, hands gripping Billy’s biceps.

“I fucking knew it,” Billy hissed, leaning to press open mouthed kisses to Steve’s neck.  The heat of Billy mixed with the cold, harsh air, drove Steve fucking mad.  His head was foggy, filled to the brim with Billy.  “Every time I shoved you, fucking every time I looked at you, I could see it.” Steve gasped as Billy latched onto his neck, biting and sucking.  It was so different than anything Steve had experienced, even with the guys he’d fooled around with.  Billy was rough, yet somehow still gentle, still attentive.  His hand was slow, leisurely stroking Steve and swiping the head with his thumb.  Steve wasn’t sure he’d still be upright if it wasn’t for Billy holding him up against the tree.

“See what?” He gasped.

“That you wanted me,” Billy replied, breath hot against Steve’s neck.  “Wanted me to shove you, touch you.” Steve was dripping, shaking as Billy teased him.  “You know how long I’ve wanted to do this to you?” Billy whispered against Steve’s skin.  Steve shook his head, unable to make his voice work.  “Since that fucking party.  Wanted to fucking claim you.” Steve found that he really, really wanted that too.

“Then do it,” he rasped, one shaky hand coming up to tangle in the hair at the nape of Billy’s neck.  Billy’s hand faltered before pulling away.  Steve whined, head tilting back down to look.  Billy looked almost feral, eyes wild and face flushed.  He made quick work of his jeans, pulling out his cock, angry and red and hard.  Steve’s mouth fucking watered.  Billy held his hand up, the one slick with Steve’s precum, and ordered,

“Lick.” Steve didn’t need to be told twice.  He ran his tongue over Billy’s hand, getting it wet and spit slick.  Billy watched, breathing hard through his nose, before he pulled his hand away, using the other to turn Steve around.  “Pants at your knees, pretty boy.” His voice was low, husky, and Steve would do whatever he said.  He could feel it, the need to obey.  He’d never wanted to just let someone have their way with him, use him, but he found himself imagining Billy, relaxed as he ordered Steve to please him.  He shuddered at the thought.  Steve shimmied his jeans and underwear down, leaning against the tree and looking over his shoulder.  Billy was stroking himself slowly, letting drool spill down his tongue and onto his dick until is was wet, dripping with saliva.  Steve groaned.

“I’m not--  I’ve never--”

“Don’t you worry,” Billy said, hands gripping Steve’s cheeks as he squatted, pulling them apart.  “When I fuck you, it’s gonna be thorough.  Gonna open you on my fingers until you beg for me to stuff you with my cock.” And then he licked a hot, wet stripe from Steve’s perineum all the way up to his hole, circling the rim.

“Oh holy shit,” Steve cried, hips jerking back.  He felt Billy’s chuckle against his skin.  He lost himself in the sensation of Billy’s tongue, his mouth, licking and sucking at Steve’s taint and thighs until they were slick and wet.  The sound he made, primal and needy, when Billy stood, almost made him embarrassed.  He was too horny though.

“Clench those thighs for me, King,” Billy said, pressing a kiss to one of Steve’s back dimples.  Steve shuddered, but did as he was told.  When he felt Billy’s dick slide against the crease of his legs, he gasped, fingers clenching against the bark of the tree.  The head of Billy’s cock slowly pushed in, gliding through the spit, now warmed by Steve’s skin.  It was veiny, thick, and velvety soft against the meat of Steve’s thighs.  When the tip brushed against the back of his balls, Steve whimpered, biting his lip.  Billy’s hand was tight, bruising against his hip.  The other came and pulled Steve’s hair, tilting his head back so he couldn’t hide any noises.

“Please, please, please,” Steve rambled, mind blanking out except for Billy.  The feel of him between his thighs, the smell of his cologne, fuck, even the rough denim of his jeans against the back of his thighs.  He didn’t even know what he was begging for.  Billy let out a long, rumbling groan.

“Jesus fuck,” Billy said, voice sounding as wrecked as Steve felt.  His hips snapped forward, slapping against Steve’s thighs and ass, and Steve gasped, fingers painfully gripping at the tree bark.  He hadn’t expected it, but the glide of Billy’s dick against his thighs was incredible.  The way the head tickled the back of his balls, the way he could feel Billy’s dick leaking precum, sliding it around as he made Steve’s thighs slicker and slicker.  Steve clamped them as tightly as he could, getting an aborted moan for his efforts.  He grinned as Billy moved faster, hips slamming against Steve, forcing high pitched moans out every time.  “Look at you,” Billy rumbled.  “So fuckin’ pretty like this, Harrington.  Bent over like the needy little bitch you are.” Steve should have bristled at the words, should have pushed Billy away, but something inside him went white hot in pleasure.  Made his cock drip.

Like most things Steve was discovering about himself, it came down to Billy.  If anyone else tried it, he’d hate it.  But, fuck.  Billy made it sound like the best thing in the world.

“Yeah,” Steve breathed out.  “Fuck yeah I am.” Billy let out a sound that made heat burst in Steve’s groin, brought him even closer to the edge.  His hips shuttered, moving wildly until he slammed himself against Steve, curling down and pressing his forehead against Steve’s back as he came.  Steve moved one hand down, jerking himself off almost painfully fast.  The feeling of spit and cum, warm against his skin, cooling rapidly in the air, was almost too much.  Billy moved to pull away but Steve whined, making him stop.  “Just--  Stay there.”

“Jesus,” he heard Billy whisper.  And like that, Steve came, painting the tree in white stripes of spunk.  He cried out, loud where Billy had been quiet, muffling his sounds.  Steve was loud, he knew that, but he reached obscene levels as he trembled, orgasm making him nearly black out.

They stayed that way, panting as their sweat rapidly cooled.  Billy finally pulled away, hands leaving Steve and he missed the feeling immediately.

God he was so fucked.

Steve didn’t turn around as he caught his breath, shakily using the tree to stand erect.  He pulled up his jeans, not bothering to clean up.  Wasn’t sure he wanted to admit to himself that he wanted the feeling of cum and spit sticking to his skin, dampening his jeans and underwear, dirty and so fucking hot.  When he turned around, Billy had his back to him, the sound of his zippo clicking loud in the wake of what they’d just done.

“Uhm,” Steve began, because, like, where do you go from here?

“We can keep this under wraps,” Billy said, back still to Steve.  He let out a cloud of smoke, thicker in the cold air.  Steve noticed the tension in his shoulders, in his voice, and he swallowed, wondering if he’d fucked up.

“Yeah,” Steve said, fingers twitching nervously against his thigh.  “But uh,” he took a sharp inhale, forcing the words out, “My parents aren’t usually home so, you know, if you ever wanna like, let off some steam--”

“Aw, Harrington,” Billy teased, finally turning around.  “You like my dick that much?” Steve wasn’t sure what it was, but something told him he needed to be honest.  To tell the truth, or Billy’d run and never look back.

“Yeah,” he replied, honest.  Billy’s eyes widened and his mouth went a little slack.  But the attraction and want that shone in his eyes let Steve know he’d made the right choice.  “Maybe next time you can let me choke on it.”

[sweater-daddiesdumbdork]

Real Life Tasks With Ransom Drysdale

An Advent Calendar Of 24 Normal Human Tasks As Performed By A Huge Man Baby

Day 17: Spawn Baby Has Needs

Warnings: Smut (18+) and Bad Language Words

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x Reader

A/N: I can’t believe how far along @what-is-your-plan-today​, @jennmurawski13​ and I have come with this and we’re getting closer to Christmas Eve! I hope you all have enjoyed this journey with Ransom and Pregnant!Reader as much as we have. 

Series Masterlist

“Fuck your so hot like this.” Ransom muttered in your ear as he thrusted into you, both of you laying on your sides. Your leg was hiked over his thigh, he was using his leg as leverage to keep you spread for him, his arm draped over the swell of your belly while his fingers teased between your swollen petals. He admired the way you arched back into his chest, your eyes screwed shut while your mouth dropped in a silent cry, but quickly picked up volume the harder and faster he pressed his cock into your weeping channel. 

“Ransom, Ransom I need to-” You cried you, your hands scrambling for purchase on anything. Reaching for his forearm wrapped around your belly, you dug in, slightly gouging his skin. “- oh fuck, please, please.” 

“Come, I can feel you’re ready Princess.” He sucked against your neck, leaving a mark blossoming against the arch of your neck. You pulled a pillow against your face, biting it while screaming into it when a particular hard thrust left you tipping over the edge, your orgasm tightening your body while shimmers of light edged with black around your vision, and Ransom kept slamming his hips into you from behind, feeling you come all over his cock and sought his own ending. 

“Thatta girl, looking so good coming apart.” He praised, which made your clench around him all over again, and the tightening in his gut signaled that he was close. When he came, stuttering to a jerking stop, feeling his own rush through his quivering muscles, he latched around you to hold you close, his face pressed in against your shoulder with a yell. 

You were humming now while loosening the pillow, enjoying the aftermath of sex. You smoothed your hand against his arm wrapped around your stomach, breathing in deeply when you felt Ransom stir behind you and pull out from you. 

“Mmhh.” You hummed while Ransom placed a few kisses down your neck and you both shifted. Ransom moved to his back and you sat up to lay on your other side to face him. Ransom was still clearly enjoying the post orgasm, as he had a smile stretched on his face, and his head was tipped back with closed eyes. 

“How are you feeling Kitten? Better?” He finally asked, and you nodded, stretching a bit. It was just what you had needed, the uncomfortable feeling had eased. It wasn’t necessarily pain, just discomfort when Ransom suggested a good fuck might cure it. Maybe you had to listen to him more often. 

“Better, Who would have thought the reason I’m in this mess is what would make me feel better. I’m really thirsty though.” you happen to say while cuddling a bit into Ransom who pulled away suddenly. “Ransom, where are you going?” You ask while he tugs on a pair of sweats and turns around to kiss your forehead. 

“Just gonna go get you a drink. Juice, some flavored water? What are you in the mood for?” He questioned. 

Turning to your back, and pulling up the sheet around your waist. “Mmhh, orange juice. There is an unopened container in the door. And peanut butter, that kind with the jelly swirled through it?” 

Ransom winced at your request, his hands falling to his waist and a tilt of his head leaving his hair flopping over his forehead in that way that made you bite your lip, your toes curling. 

“That it? No other weird shit like usual?” His eyes glinted in the low light of the bedroom, the corners crinkling a bit in amusement at the state he was leaving you in. Since you got over your cold, you had all these cravings, both food and him. Of course he was going to take it, because tomorrow, you might be back to snapping at him not to even look at you. It just comes and goes lately. 

“Fuck off Ransom, just get me what I asked for. Spawn Baby has needs.” You rubbed your belly and he saluted you before heading to the door. You hummed happily and watched as Ransom left the room before you grabbed his pillow and hugged it against your chest, honestly feeling the best you have in a while. 

Downstairs Ransom grabbed a juice glass and searched the door for a container of juice. Typically you bought the bottles, but this time you bought the carton, which he never typically used. Something about drinks left in cardboard just sounded wrong to him. Giving it a good shake, he went to open it, but as many times he turned it, he couldn't find a cap to unscrew. “Well how the fuck you supposed to open this?” He scowled at the container. 

Next he tried to flip the top of it back and forth, seeing if it would snap open. “Well what the hell?” he scowled while lifting the container to look for directions. But the writing was tiny and he didn't have the patience to bother with it. 

“Fuck it, I’m just going to cut it.” He started opening the drawers till he found a knife to cut into the cardboard when you appeared in the entrance. 

“Ransom, what are you doing?” Your head tilted, a questioning look crossing your face as he held the knife blade down, like he was going to stab at the orange juice. 

“What's it look like? I'm opening the fucking orange juice to pour you a glass.” He said like this was just everyday for him, which considering who it was, you had to give it to him, it could very well be. 

“Put the knife down Ransom, and let me open it.” You tightened your robe around you while approaching him with a sigh. “Last thing we need is another visit to the er because the knife slipped or some shit.” You slid the orange juice over to you which caused him to scowl.

“I’m not going to cut myself, that was an accident, nothing like right now.” 

“Mmhm sure.” You pried apart the top, bending it back and forward a few times before it split. Pulling it open further, you poured it in a glass and handed it back over to Ransom. 

“Well… what a stupid design. Next time we should just do fresh squeezed, better for the baby.” Ransom stated, and you sipped from your juice, smirking. 

“Right Ransom, you going to juice me twenty oranges everyday?” The tip of your tongue catching some of the droplets off your lips. 

Ransom shrugged and lifted the container like he was about to pour himself a glass. “If that's what you want, I will do it.” He tipped it back to his mouth instead, taking some deep swallows. 

“RANSOM! Use a glass.” You smack at his arm while he drags his arm against his lips to wipe them dry. “I can just see you juicing oranges.” You gave a roll of your eyes, arching a brow in challenge while you went to sip from your glass once more. 

“You dehydrated me Princess!” he grinned while reaching for a glass and pouring himself some this time around instead of going straight from the carton. “Let me hire someone, and we could both have fresh squeezed orange juice whenever.” 

You scoffed at him while going to the pantry. “Hey, where did you stash my peanut butter and jelly? Spawn baby is hungry.”

[fernsplaysthings]

Well, I sort of said it was a thing. Not working from any one list or intending to do all prompts, or even anything in any order. So here’s some Kestral/Crow in which Kestral realises they have a goddam praise kink. Because Kinktober exists.

Although not wildly explicit, it’s still smut. Rated M and all that.

Be gentle with me.

In all the perpetuation of the damned, years old stereotype of the Young Wolf - untouchable, invincible, so far removed from the average person - Kestral had somewhat forgotten that somewhere between all those things that they were still in fact, unfortunately, a person. A person that was extremely desperate for touch, was utterly destructible, and loathed the pedestal they’d been placed upon after the Red War. And yet despite it all, despite their needs and because it’d seemed right, they’d kept so many people at arm’s length, fought even when they felt like dying, and wanted to be loved so damn badly.

And then along came a lover - soulmate, maybe - in the most twisted, fucked up way they could’ve ever imagined and within months he’d somehow ruined the carefully maintained image and distance they’d upheld. Not on purpose, probably without even realising, but damn it all if Crow hadn’t waltzed in, shone a glaring spotlight on the humanity that they’d hid supposedly for the rest of eternity, in all their darkest corners and with the utmost care coaxed it into the warmth like a hungry little stray in an alleyway.

Remembering that they needed affection was humiliating.

Realising that the hollowness and the craving they’d felt for years was easily filled by a benevolent touch had almost brought them to tears at least once.

Crow hadn’t minded. He’d felt the same and it had hurt immensely when he’d voiced it.

But it’d become easier to remember to be a person, at least around Crow. The embarrassment had all but dissolved. No more humiliation. Accepting affection and giving it in return was as easy as breathing with him. There was however, one thing though and Crow had been delighted at finding it.

It’d long passed working hours, the H.E.L.M had cleared out and Kestral was alone at the wartable with a datapad full of reports they’d needed to check up on throughout the day. Besides the very occasional clank of machinery from the Eliksni wing and the soft hum of the portal in the Awoken wing they were fairly sure they were by themself, stood hunched over the table with images and words scrolling by with the swipe of their hand.

Either they’d been completely enraptured with the detailed analysis of the debris that remained from the cataclysmic events of the Deep Stone Crypt that sat before them or they were just so zoned out that the arms that embraced them from behind and the hot breath on the back of their neck had made them jump. Crow chuckled at their jolt and pressed semi-apologetic kisses to the nape of their neck and over to their ear, tugging the shell with his teeth so gently.

“Evening, beautiful,” he laughed under his breath, “You’re working late.”

Kestral huffed out their breath and smiled broadly, confident that Crow had made plans to whisk them away from the wartable no matter what, and leaned back against him, head tilted as he moved to continue with their ear and neck.

“I am,” they sighed, “And I’ll be working even later if you continue to be a professional distraction.”

The same chuckle that had always turned their insides to warm goo whispered by their ear, “What can I say? I’ve missed you. When you weren’t at the apartment I wondered where you were.”

“Unfortunately, doing my job.”

“Hm, you’re such a good girl.”

Kestral couldn’t possibly have reacted quickly enough to choke back the needy sound that had escaped their lips on hearing Crow’s words, their face flushed so deeply red so quickly, guts clenching, body suddenly taking on a tremble. Perhaps he hadn’t…

Yeah, he had. He’d noticed and either out of instinct or desire he’d pulled them flush to him, his chest to their back, burying his face in the crook of their neck and breathing deeper by the second.

“I’m...so sorry. I don’t know...I’ve no idea where that came from...I…”

The sharp exhale at their neck, at the soft point behind their ear, and the hot open mouthed kiss sweetly bruising their skin told them that Crow didn’t mind one bit and that while he’d definitely arrived hoping to initiate some kind of intimacy for the evening what he’d probably not expected was the high chance that the pair were not going to make it back to the apartment. Or...out of the H.E.L.M. Not that this seemed to dissuade him, hands gripping Kestral’s hips while his mouth and teeth marked them.

“Was it...was it the ‘good girl’ thing because I can keep that up.”

They’d almost managed to swallow the groan this time, nodding and placing both of their hands flat against the wartable to steady themself from the pressure of Crow behind them, pressing them between himself and the surface in front. He rested one of his hands beside their’s, finding the comfortable position that Kestral liked with his body fitting against theirs, the other hand roaming along their hip to their lower belly, holding them tightly back against the increasingly obvious evidence that he was enjoying this just as much as they were.

“Fuck, OK good,” he breathed out harshly, fumbling their belt and the buckles with the non-supporting hand, “Because you’re amazing Kestral and if saying it aloud turns you on then that’s just a bonus, right?”

They couldn’t help but laugh at the absurdity of the situation, Crow’s over eager attempts to undress them, his excitement at finding new things to please his lover, the fact that the lightest praise from him went straight to their head. Deciding to end his suffering they turned and perched up on the edge of the wartable, legs dangling slightly. Crow wasted exactly a heartbeat before his mouth found theirs and both hands worked free their breastplate and cloak.

“Are you completely sure you wanna do this on the wartable?” they asked between harsh, desperate open mouthed kisses, “What if…”

“Completely sure. Not like it’s the first time…”

His sentence was cut short by Kestral’s teeth on his lower lip, their hands searching below his belt and tugging fastenings loose. Within seconds their legs were wrapped around his waist, thighs gripping his hips now flush with theirs.

“Say something else.”

Their whispered voice shook just a little with the effort of keeping quiet, something Crow was also decidedly having issues with as he shifted slowly against them.

“You feel incredible,” he sighed, swallowing their groan with a heated kiss, “I love you.”

They’d have returned the sentiment if the soft cry hadn’t slipped out first in response to Crow wrapping his arms firmly around them and picking up a pace. Their own arms held on around his neck as they muffled their rapidly increasing sounds, whimpers and groans of his name, in his shoulder, his desperate mantra of ‘good girl, you’re doing so well’ reaching their ears and fogging their brain.

Much to each of their surprise it was over just as quickly as it’d started, Crow with his face buried against Kestral’s neck and panting, Kestral biting down on the meat of their hand to stifle their noises, the other hand fisted in Crow’s hair. 

Eventually he’d untangled himself from the Hunter on the wartable, done his best to make himself presentable and helped them redress as much as they cared to in their pliant, jelly-like state all the while sharing in gently bumped foreheads, noses nuzzled to cheeks, and sweet, slow kisses that lingered until Kestral’s senses returned enough for them to pull back and smile at him.

“You’re wearing most of my lipstick, love.”

Swiping his sleeve over his face and ignoring the streak of vibrant red it left up his arm, he chuckled and cupped their face in the way he knew they loved, using his thumb to wipe away the smears of makeup that had escaped from their lips too. They at least needed to appear to have been working late in case someone happened to be around as they left. Not that their relationship was particularly secret anymore, but Crow could do without the Vanguard finding out about the inappropriate usage of the wartable.

He cleared his throat and took a deep breath, “Think you can pack up and come home now?”

“That ship has long since flown,” they hopped down off the table, fluffing up their cloak collars to cover the fresh marks Crow had made, slipping a hand into his, “How am I meant to concentrate on space garbage analysis after that? I’ll finish it tomorrow.”

[qissu]

ALPHA ML READER X OMEGA AIZAWA [ Smut ]

You’ve known aizawa ever since you were kids, but things changed once you found out you were an alpha and he was an omega, he would get bullied at school, you wanted to help him but you weren’t a dominate alpha. Many boys and girls would reject you just because of this.

“What’s the point of being an alpha if your a soft one.” They all laugh at you, even though you didn’t have the best relationship with aizawa in high school he still sticked up for you.

Even in college you were still made fun of.

“You need to assert your dominance! I won’t be around all the time.” He pats you on the back. “I’m not like every alpha! Why can’t you see that I like how I am, I don’t care if I never find someone I just want to be accepted.” You walk off, heading in a different direction.

Yamada sneaks up behind aizawa. “That’s not gonna work.” Bobbing back and forth with a wide grin. “You don’t know what your talking about.” Aizawa walks off as yamada followed behind.

“It’s obvious you like y/n, what you think is helping is actually pestering, just confess to him already and stop trying to change him. I know you wanna stop the bullying, just be honest with him.” Yamada walks off.

It’s true, aizawa liked you every since you were kids, once you found out you were an alpha you became gentle because of all the cases of omegas getting attacked by alphas, you were scared that you would do the same so you stopped hanging out with aizawa for some time.

Your phone lights up in your hand. “Sweetie we won’t be home until tomorrow, our flight got canceled. I’m looking at your rut tracker and tonight is the night. I know I shouldn’t but I’m concerned about you...me and your father so please stay inside the house once you get home.” Your mother hangs up the phone.

“I should email my professor.” Before heading home you go shopping for the night ahead, you always found yourself passed out and hungry once you come to.

You were an only child, it got lonely with it just being you. As your cooking something simple to eat you hear knocking on the door.

“Who is it?”

“Open up It’s me.” Hearing his voice made you panic. “I’m uh really sick, come back later!” You shout at the door. It was silent for a few seconds.

“You sure don’t look sick.” Aizawa comes through the window, as he stood up you gaze over his body. He had a nice build for an omega, you quickly turn away. “You shouldn’t be here.”

He walks over towards the kitchen, following behind you. “I wouldn’t have to go through such links if it wasn’t important.” You feel hands wrap around your frame. “You have to add a little more pepper if you want it to go with the other dish.” Your breathing becomes heavy, covering your mouth as his body pressed against yours.

“Please leave.”

“But you s-” you quickly turn around, grabbing onto his shoulder squeezing him. “Just leave!”

It was your rut making you act like this, being near aizawa made it worse, you run towards your room, slamming the door behind yourself.

Aizawa follows behind you, resting his head on your door. “I’m sorry if me being here caused you problems, I just wanted our relationship to be how it used to when we were young. I’ll head out.”

As he walks away you open the door, grabbing his wrist as you pull him into your arms. “I don’t hate you, I just can’t be with you right now...I don’t want to hurt you while I’m in this state.” You pull away, rubbing his cheeks with your thumb.

“Let me help you feel good.” Aizawa pushes you down on the bed, getting ontop of you as he boxed you in with his thighs. “Aizawa, I’m scared...what if I hurt you? Or get you pregnant?”

He wipes away your tears, planting kisses over the wet areas under your eyes. “Your not going to hurt me, I want this and I want you...and I wanna help you through it...plus is getting me pregnant bad? I wouldn’t mind having a baby from you.” He smirks.

You grab ahold of his hand. “You say that now, but if I can’t stop?”

“I wouldn’t want you to stop...this might come as a shock but I want you to be rough with me, it’s the only time you get to truly express yourself.” He calms you down as he lifts up your shirt, helping you take It off before running his hands up and down your body.

You surrender to your rut, placing your hands on his ass as you rip his pants, he looks back at pieces of his pants scattered on the bed before looking back at you. You were breathing heavy with lust in your eyes. “Let’s make each other feel good...together.”

You quickly tackle him, getting on top as you turn his body around under yours, you couldn’t help but be fixated on his ass, you grip onto both cheeks with your hands, bruising them before biting down tenderly. His head lifts up as he let out a moan.

His body squirm under yours as you suck on his ass before placing kisses traveling up his back. Your hand wraps around his neck. He never seen you act like this, it was arousing. With your free hand you unzip your pants, rubbing your dick between his ass. “He’s surprisingly big, I just want him to fuck me already.”

You force his head into the pillow, pushing the tip in before slamming into him. His body lifts up but you keep a firm grip on his neck. “This is my first time! It feels so good I don’t wanna stop.”

The bed lifts forward with every thrust, hitting against the wall. His cock was going deeper than aizawa thought it could, tears stream down his face as he bites into the pillow. “He’s going to tear me apart!” His eyes roll backwards with each thrust.

It was like another side you was coming out, it was scaring you but you didn’t want to stop. Aizawa back was now covered in bite marks and bruises, once you orgasm you weren’t done, you pick his body off the bed, sitting him in your lap as his head hanged back.

His legs felt like jelly, you bring his face closer to yours, pulling him in for a kiss as you wipe his tears away. His body felt as if it was being torn apart until you knotted him. “Y/n...y- your getting bigger! It hurts! He cried out but you couldn’t stop it you both were stuck until your knot was over.

His body finally gives up when his head drops on your shoulder, but you kept going until it was all out of your system. Only stopping early in the morning. Cum trickled down his entrance once you were done. You pass out before you could do anything else.

“Y/n...wake up. I made breakfast.” At the sound of his voice your eyes slowly open, he stood in front of you naked. Your eyes scan over his body, you notice the bruises from last night. As he walks away you pull him by the wrist. “I’m sorry! Your body l-” he stops you, pressing his lips against yours.

“I told you, I don’t mind...I didn’t know you would get bigger while inside but I’m okay.” He flashes you a smile. “I- I’m still a little sleepy, is it okay if I eat later?”

“But it’s going to get cold!” You roll over ignoring him. He gets under the covers moving his hand down until it’s inside your pants.

“Hey!” You immediately jump out the bed. “Come on it didn’t even hurt all I did was stick my thumb inside.” He smirks.

“I don’t like it, it felt weird.” He gets all in your face. “Please...can I stick my cock inside of you, it’ll feel good I promise...just this once.” You want to say no but you don’t want him to think he’s just a sex toy to you.

“Okay, but go slow.” You get back on the bed, aizawa helps turn you over, fixing your arch. His cock was rock hard against your skin.

You feel his tip press inside of you, gasping out you grab onto the headboard. “Does it hurt?”

“Mhm.” You shake your head. “Just give it time and relax.” Aizawa took his time with you, placing his hand over yours as he leaves kisses down your back.

“I love you y/n, I love everything about you and I want to spend the rest of my life with you.” He grunts when he pushes all of his cock inside, your insides tighten around it. “It’s okay just relax for me, since we don’t have lube it’s going to hurt.”

“I- it feels weird! My body feels hot all over, is this normal?”

“Y- yes.” His strokes were slow but deep, reaching the places that were itching for his cock. “It’s okay to feel good, I still can’t believe you let me stick it in.” He chuckles.

“You know you left me such a mess last night, I have to pay you back.” He slams into you, your body lifts up, you kick him off the bed before running into the bathroom, locking the door.

“What the hell! Y/n?! Come back out here!” He bangs on the door. “You did that on purpose! You said you were gonna go slow!”

“Okay I lied, I couldn’t help it!” His head laid against the door. “I won’t do it again, I promise.”

“I don’t want to do it anymore, can we stop?” Aizawa felt the hurt in your voice, he was starting to regret his decision.

“You’re mad at me aren’t you?” He couldn’t help but cry, he felt bad. The door creaks open, in front of you was aizawa, his tears stained his face as he wipes them away. “I’m not mad, I just didn’t want to continue for now...don’t cry please.” You wipe away his tears.

That day you laid in bed with aizawa all day long, holding him in your arms as you played with his hair. Even though he’s more dominate than you it still shocked you that he cried. “Aizawa, I think I’m ready.” You whisper in his ear.

“No I’m not doing it until we do it properly.” He nudges his head back into your chest, after a few seconds you get up, looking over his body before climbing on top of him.

“Y/n...what are you doing?” He said while whipping his eyes. All he saw was you holding onto his cock before bringing yourself down on it.

You wince out in pain as your head lifted up. “I- I wanna please you, I don’t want you to think it’s one sided.” As you bounce on his cock it starts to become comfortable, aizawa sits up, placing his tongue on your nipple, sucking on them as your body lifted back and forth on his cock.

The night ended with you passed out in his arms after orgasming. After a few days you get shocking news.

“Well the stomach aches you feel aren’t stomach aches...your pregnant...congratulations.” The doctor smiles while you and aizawa look at each other in shock. “You did say you wanted a baby.”

“Shut up!”

[hellzeldagirlsfanfic]

Can I get vergil/f!reader where vergil walks in on reader trying on lingerie, and decides hes gotta ruin a few pieces... right this second?

Here you go Varen! Sorry it wasn’t right this second <3.

***

Her heart was in her throat as she raced up the stairs to her apartment. As someone who doesn’t have a lot of confidence, (Y/N) was eager to return to her home as she didn’t want any of her neighbours asking what she had in the box.

Her heart only calmed down once she was in the safety of her bedroom. The nervousness in her heart turned into giddy excitement.

Her order from the lingerie website had finally arrived. (Y/N) had ordered three sets bra and panties with some garter belts as she wanted to spice up her sex life with her boyfriend, as she felt comfortable with him to do stuff like this with him.

She opened to the cardboard box to pull out the first set.

This set was a set brought because it was cute. The bra was halter-neck stayed that tried around the neck. There was a stylish hole in the centre revealing the side of breast with a single lilac criss-cross ribbon in the hole. The set was violet with white and lilac passion flowers across the fabric.

(Y/N) stripped herself of her clothes and underwear so she could try on her new set. The halter-neck was comfortable and fitted her breast nicely though the thong felt a little bit uncomfortable since she ever wore a thong before. (Y/N) put the garter belt on to complete the look.

(Y/N) pushed her burgundy hair out of her face so she could admire the lingerie on her body in the floor-length mirror. The set looked nice on her.

“This piece is too cute,” (Y/N) said to herself. “I might just keep this one for myself. I don’t want it getting ruin,” She added.

“How selfish of you,” Her boyfriend told her.

The (H/C)-haired woman let out a scream then spun around to see him standing at her bedroom door. She hadn’t been expecting him to come over today.

“Vergil!” She exclaimed. “What are you doing here!?” She asked.

“I wanted to surprise you but it seems that I am the one with the surprise,” He stated, stalking over to her.

(Y/N) felt like a little rabbit facing down a hungry wolf.

Vergil wrapped his arms around (Y/N)’s waist pulling her body closer to him. His hands run up and down her curves.

A heavy blush appeared across her cheeks. She felt her body become hot under the blue devil’s lustful gaze.

“Why would you want to hide this from me?” He asked turning her back around to face the mirror again.

His hands groped her lace-clad breast, pinching her nipples through the material of the bra. (Y/N) let out a shameless moan at the stimulus.

“You do look lovely in it,” Vergil compliment her, running his hands over her body again.

“Thank you,” (Y/N) stuttered.

Vergil pulled the cups to the side of (Y/N)’s breast so he could tease her nipple more.

(Y/N) moaned as Vergil played with nipples. She leant forward holding onto the mirror in front of her as her boyfriend pushed his knee in-between her legs, rubbing it against her cunt.

Once the devil could smell that his girlfriend was wet enough, he removed his knee from in-between her legs. (Y/N) watched from the glassy surface as Vergil undid his belt to his trousers. When he pulled out his hard cock from the confines of his trousers he rubbed it against her clothed entrance before removing the thong from it. He then rubbed his cock against her Labia to gather up slick before penetrating her.

Vergil gripped her hips and roughly thrusting into her.

It didn’t take them long to cum. (Y/N) first with Vergil following shortly behind her.

When Vergil pulled out of her, (Y/N)’s legs felt like jelly after the fuck so kept ahold of the mirror until her legs felt fine again. She could also feel Vergil’s cum leaking out of her causing her to grimace.

Then she heard the sound of clothes rustling. (Y/N) turned around to see Vergil removing his vest and coat.

Vergil gave her a wicked smirk.

“I don’t know what you were worried about,” He gesturing to her lingerie. “I didn’t ruin it,” He said.

“Oh, shut it,” She told him as she fixed her bra and thong.

She then watched as the half-demon pulled out a second set of lingerie from the box.

That set was the one made from admiral blue lace.

Vergil handed it to (Y/N) with a silent command.

The (H/C)-haired woman stripped herself of the violet lingerie to put on the blue one that her boyfriend had handed her.

The set consisted of the bra and a thong. The bra had straps hugging the outline of her breast with lace in the centre, covering her nipples. The thong was a similar style but the lace only covered her lower lips. There were also small bows decorating the thong and bra.

When (Y/N) turned to face Vergil again she could see that the lust in his eyes hand intensified.

“How does it look?” She shyly asked.

The devil growled at her. The growl causing her to flinch. She knew that the growl wasn’t one of angry but one of approval.

(Y/N) looked down to see that her boyfriend was already semi-hard again.

“I’m not ready for you yet,” Vergil told him. “But you could help with that,” He smirked.

(Y/N) knew what to do.

She got onto her knees in-between Vergil’s legs. (Y/N) took his half-hard  cock into her hands. She took the tip into her mouth and gently sucked on it. As she sucked on the tip (Y/N) ran her tongue across his slit, earning her a growl of pleasure. The (H/C) wrapped her hand around his shaft pumping as she sucked on the head. When his cock had become hard enough she slowly started to take it into her mouth.

Vergil gripped her (H/C) locks forcing his cock further into her mouth. Then when he was closer Vergil pulled her mouth off of his cock.

(Y/N) looked up to her boyfriend to see what to do next. He pulled her off of the floor into his lap.

(Y/N)’s legs were on ether side of his with her hands resting on his shoulders.

Vergil ran his fingers over the her clothed cunt. He teased her clit through the thong. He then moved the thong aside and lend back. (Y/N) then wordless lowered herself onto Vergil’s cock.

(Y/N) bounced herself on the cock as Vergil grips her hips and watched.

It didn’t much to make (Y/N) cum again but Vergil held on. He continued to thrust through her orgasm and into her third when he released his seeds into her again.

(Y/N) cling onto her boyfriend burying her into his neck as she came down from her orgasms. She groaned as he felt move. She watched as him pull out the last set of lingerie out of the box.

Her face became hot again as she realise what set he was holding.

“This one now,” Vergil ordered.

She took the lingerie piece and dash off to the ensuite bath. Her behaviour cause Vergil to raise a eyebrow. He also wondered why she had rushed to her bath to change and not change in her bedroom like how she did last time.

The half-demon wait patiently for his girlfriend return.

When (Y/N) returned for the bathroom, her face was as red as one of Dante’s coat. Her arms were covering her chest.

She slowly shuffled towards Vergil, ending back up in-between his legs again.

“What wrong, my dear?” Vergil asked noticing the change in her behaviour. She had become shy and bashful.

(Y/N) just looked down at the feet and didn’t answered.

Vergil let out a sigh. He reach out to her arm to remove them from her chest. When he did he was greeted by the site of her perk nipple. He took in the site and realise that the lingerie set that she was wearing was a quarter-cup bra.

The lingerie was mainly made up of black lace with pink silk on the middle section of bra and cup but lace went over it. The panties and garter belt, the also notice she had added stockings to the outfit.

Vergil gripped her hips bringing her closer to his body. He took one of her nipples into his mouth. He sucked on that nipple whilst his hand played with the other one. When he grew bored with that nipple, the devil kissed his u her chest and to her neck. He litter her neck with kisses, bites and hickeys slowly moving across her neck then traveling back down to her another nipple.

All the time (Y/N) was moaning and whining.

She took Vergil’s hand and guided it to her aching entrance. His finger graze the wetness of her cunt.

When he realise that he had uninterrupted contact to her cunt he throw (Y/N) onto the bed. Vergil open her legs to see what he felt. The panties that she was wearing had no crotch, leaving a uninterrupted access to her inmate part.

The half-demon watched as his seeds leaked out of (Y/N)’s cunt. He let out loud growl before thrusting into her. He angle her hips so he could hit her g-spot as well as using thumb to massage her clit.

It wasn’t long until (Y/N) was cumming for her fourth time.

Vergil pulled out whilst his girlfriend was still cumming. He pulled her face to his, bringing her into a passionate kiss.

As they kiss, Vergil moved (Y/N) onto her side. Her back was pressed against his chest. He lifted up one of her legs when she had clam down from her orgasm, he thrusted into again.

He thrusted into her gently. His index finger slowly tracing circles around her clit. His another hand played with her breast.

“Such an adventurous girl, aren’t you,” Vergil whispered into her ear. “Buying such a dirty clothes to please me,” He added, nibbling on her ear lobe.

“I’m happy that you like them,” (Y/N) moaned.

“Very,” He replied as kissed her behind her ear.

Vergil picked his pace, thrusting into her faster. It didn’t take long for them to cum. Vergil continued to thrusting his hips to milk (Y/N).

Their breaths filled the room as the couple lay there coming down from their pleasure. Vergil removed himself from (Y/N) for the last time. He place a kiss on her forehand.

“You did a good job,” The half-demon praised.

(Y/N) kissed his cheek.

“Thank you,” She said. “I’m really glad you like the lingerie sets. I was super nervous about trying it since I’ve never done anything like before,” The (H/C) confessed.

Vergil lightly kissed her lips.

“I am honoured that you were comfortable to do something like this with me,” He said with tiny smile on his lips.

The two of them cuddle for a little bit longer before Vergil carried her of to the bath room get clean.

[angelz-dust]

masters of none (jason todd x reader)

summary: welcome to my jason x celebrity fic, based on this headcanon. pls enjoy. 

word count: 5.2k

warnings: gun mention. food mention. 

part 2

626 bedford avenue

baby let's have a conversation and god forbid we have a connection

...

"are you sure? i don't wanna leave your here alone," dex had said to you as he put his jacket on. the two of you were in the studio when he got a sudden invite to a party.

"i'll be fine. i just wanna finish this track tonight. or attempt to, i guess," you explained, spinning in your chair to face him. you watched as he used his wooden military brush to fix his waves. "everyone else is going so you should go."

"you should also go," he chuckled, shaking his head before sighing and pocketing the brush. "at least let me take you home now."

"i have to finish this, dex. seriously. just go," you told him, turning back around to face the monitor.

"fine, but i'm coming back when it's over and i'm taking you home. i don't care if you're not done or passed out on the couch," he told you firmly, grabbing his keys off the coffee table. "are you hungry? i can get you something to eat."

"i already ate."

you did not, but you weren't hungry. you were too invested in working to be hungry. you'd eat later when he picked you up.

"alright. make sure the doors are locked when i leave. you know where the gun is, right?" he asked and you lifted your arm up, giving him a thumbs up. you had your headphones back on and were about to focus on that again. he rolled his eyes before leaving, making sure the doors were locked himself.

your work in progress played loudly in your ears as you stared at the meticulously placed loops on the monitor. you didn't like hearing your own voice but you loved the rush of putting together the puzzle that was a song, so you let it go. you worked for hours, unmoving from your spot until you felt a familiar tingle make place in your temples. a hunger headache was coming on and staring at the monitor, probably without blinking, wasn't helping.

it was midnight and dex probably wouldn't get back until 2 or 3. you weren't sure if you'd last that long. there were snacks in the mini fridge that could tide you over but it wouldn't be satisfying. you stood up, your legs feeling like jelly from not being used for so long. your ass had gone numb, too.

you wobbled your way to the fridge of wonders, resting on it to balance yourself as you opened it. you were looking for the yogurt you had stashed in there but...

"fucking jordy," you breathed out, recalling how he had eaten it that morning before you both left for your video with gotham insider.

...

"hey, i'm jordy rivas."

"and i'm y/n l/n."

"we're here with gotham insider and we'll be answering your burning questions."

you had a bucket filled with slips of paper in your lap as you waited for the cue to start picking. you took in your surroundings, not being able to see much with the bright lights illuminating you from above and keep everyone else in the dark. sometimes you couldn't tell if you were on set or on an operating table. jordy, your group mate, noticed that you two had plenty of questions to answer as he peered into the bucket.

how you got here was still a blur. your rise to stardom alongside your friends felt so sudden, it was hard to believe. you didn't expect to have such a large following at this point, or ever. and you never thought you'd have a band of brothers and sisters who loved music as much as you did. it was like a dream come true. not only did you have them but you were able to expand your horizons musically. you were just a below average producer before but now you produced music of all genres at such a high caliber. hell, you even sang a little now.

being a celebrity was overwhelming at times, but you loved interacting with fans or the family, as you affectionately called them. you'd take a simple q&a or fan meet over an award show or social event any day.

"alright, go ahead and start," a staff member said from behind the camera and you stuck your hand in at the same time as jordy, both pulling out a slip.

"how did you guys come up with the name cloud 9?" jordy read from his slip.

"stockholm syndrome," you said simply, getting a little laugh from jordy and some staff before he spoke up to explain.

"we were unofficially going by seven heavens before y/n and dex came along. we had just dropped music under our own names before but we couldn't really do that if we were going to do a group album so we needed a name."

"we were just producing a song each for the album," you spoke up to clarify. "i decided to call our studio session 'on cloud nine' since it fit with the theme of the group and there were nine of us working together."

"then we realized y/n and dex were geniuses and we asked them to produce the whole album," jordy chimed in with a smile. "they had already put so much work into it, so we asked them to join the label and we dropped the album as cloud 9."

best decision i ever made, you thought to yourself, a smile playing on your lips. on cloud nine took ages to produce but the results were worth it. for you, it was more than the money and the charts. creating music was a labor of love and an extension of yourself. you helped create a piece of art that you loved and allowed others to love too. it was the greatest feeling in the world.

"next question is... how do you guys decide who collaborates on what and when you do it?" you read, shrugging your shoulders softly. "we just do it on a whim. covers, singles, eps, full albums, it doesn't matter. we still operate as a group but sometimes we wanna do our own separate projects. we're in charge of ourselves so we do what we want."

the rest of the questions were pretty tame, mostly asking about your music and your label mates. occasionally they got more personal, asking about your interests and families. you both answered with enthusiasm, joking around a little and keeping certain things private when you felt necessary or when you were contractually obligated to. can't go around spilling secrets about upcoming music and other projects.

you and jordy were actually working on an album but it hadn't been announced yet. that was why you two came together, as a way of hinting at it and getting ready for promotions to come. the album was nothing like what you both normally did in a lot of different ways. the sound, the aesthetic, all of it. it was an ambitious project and you were looking forward to seeing how it would be perceived.

you were just about done with the q&a, pulling out the last question from the bucket that jordy had then ceremoniously punted out of frame.

"who is your favorite vigilante? i don't know actually. i've never thought about it," you softly clicked your tongue with a pensive look.

"i like signal," jordy answered as you thought it over. "i saw him kick ass up close one time and he has a cool costume."

"i like nightwing's costume! uniform? whatever," you said with a confused shake of the head, not really sure what to call it. "the blue bird is cool. i personally enjoy the color blue, so he gets points for that. it's a sexy shade of blue."

that last part elicited some laughter from jordy. "is that some roundabout way of you saying nightwing turns you on?"

"it's a direct way of me saying i like the color blue," you corrected him. "but yeah, he looks like he'd be hot. it has no bearing on how i feel about the blue, though. two separate feelings."

"who else is there? you got batman and robin. red robin. uh..." jordy trailed off, trying to think.

"batgirl," you supplied, getting a nod from him. "orphan? right? and uh..."

"red hood!" jordy said with a smile. "that dude is cool as hell. i like his jacket."

"doesn't he shoot people?" the staff laughed again at your delivery of the question. clearly you were on a roll today.

"he doesn't have a hood, though," you realized, looking perplexed. "why is he red hood if he doesn't have a hood? why doesn't he just call himself... red helmet?"

"because that's fucking stupid," jordy said through his laugher, shoulder bouncing. that would have to be censored in post.

"he's fucking stupid."

that too.

the staff watched as the two of you managed to go off on this tangent that had nothing to do with the original question. one of the interns looked to the camera man, who looked equally intrigued and confused at where the conversation had gone. "do we... stop them? we're going over on time."

the camera man shrugged and the manager shook her head. "god, no. do not stop them. this is gold."

"he doesn't need a hood, y/n. it's just a name. nightwing doesn't have wings," he reminded you and you rolled your eyes, a subtle pout on your lips.

"yeah but the bird does. it's still on brand. just like batman. and robin. and red robin. and signal. and batgirl," you listed matter of factly.

"what about orphan? is she an orphan?" jordy asked you with attitude.

"probably, bitch. why else would she call herself that?" you said, the both of you riled up now, hence all the sudden cursing. you two kept it (mostly) clean up until this point. "red hood is the only one off brand."

"why are you being a hater right now?" jordy asked with lopsided grimace and you rolled your eyes. "you completely derailed the conversation."

"oh, i'm sorry. i didn't realize you were on his payroll."

"red hood doesn't need payola. he's cool by himself."

"why are you dick sucking red hood?"

"don't ever say that shit again," jordy said immediately, almost cutting you off at the end of your question.

he crossed his arms, looking annoyed as you looked into the camera with a blank expression. you were trying to fight it, but a tight lipped smile appeared on your face, making you look down and scratch the tip your nose lightly with your nail. then your ear. then back down to the side of your neck. your body shook with silent laughter when you glanced at him.

"i'm sorry," you said convincingly after having collected yourself in record time, just barely getting cut off by jordy again.

"no you're not."

"no i'm not," you shook your head, your facade dropping as quickly as it was put on. "you still haven't answered the-"

"i hope red hood shoots you," he told you seriously, giving you a blank look. your jaw dropped, a surprised noise that almost sounded like laughter came out of your mouth as you looked back at the camera. you knew that he was just playing around but it didn't change the fact that it outrageously juvenile.

it was silent. you and jordy knew this was just friendly bickering but the staff weren't too sure. you rubbed the inside of your cheek with your tongue, slowly dragging it over your teeth as you contemplated his words.

red hood wouldn't actually shoot you. right? he's a bit more morally gray from what you've heard about him but he wouldn't just shoot somebody for making a joke, would he? that seemed kind of ridiculous. overkill, if you will.

your eyes darted between jordy and the camera. back at him. then the camera. jordy again. your head jerked a little in his direction before fully turning to look at him.

"do you think he'd actually shoot me?" you asked quietly, looking at him with a smile on your face as your expressions quickly mirrored each other.

"i would," he told you and you laughed, looking at the camera again.

"mr. red hood, if you're watching his, m-my bad bro," you stuttered through yours and jordy's laughter. "i was just talking shit. please don't shoot me. i-if you don't i'll uh... i'll be your bard!"

"what the fuck?" jordy cried out, hiding his face in his hands as he laughed harder.

"i will write and sing about your adventures and conquests," you pleaded with the man who definitely wasn't going to see. you made a heart by lifting your arms up and having your fingers meet at the top of your head. it was really a waste of time in hindsight but you had to cover your bases just in case he did see it. getting shot was not on your bucket list. "please don't shoot me. seriously. i didn't meant it."

"that's all the questions we had," jordy's voice was pitchy from all the laughing. "i'm jordy."

"and i'm y/n," you smiled, doing a little dance as you stayed in your heart position before waving with jordy. "byeeee!"

...

you weren't entirely sure how long you had been standing there with the door open, letting all the cold air out of the fridge. you assumed it was too long since your nipples felt hard as rocks now, which only added a layer to how uncomfortable you felt. your stomach was touching your back at this point and that headache wasn't going anywhere. and now your nipples felt like they were going to fall off. you were pretty sure exhaustion was going to start claiming on you, too.

killing yourself seemed to be the only option and what you were thinking of doing was practically suicide. you wanted to go walk to the corner store that had the yogurt. your craving was too strong. you needed it and waiting for dex was not an option. there was nothing of substance in the fridge anyway. just drinks and snacks that weren't yours to eat.

a normal person could probably do it and not die. but you were in gotham and you were convinced that the moment you opened the door killer croc or one of the penguin's goons would be waiting for you.

taking the gun would be the smart thing to do but you didn't feel comfortable walking around with it. the feeling of cold steel against your skin was unsettling and the chance of it going off on you was even scarier. yes, you would have the safety on, but that wasn't enough to ease your mind. it felt like walking around with a bomb strapped to your chest. you didn't even wanna think about it dropping it or something while you were in the store. you were sure the ock wouldn't like that.

you grabbed your keys, slipping the wristband on. you had a little card holder and pepper spray hanging off the key ring. you also had a small switchblade for all your stabbing needs. you hadn't used it for murderous intent yet and you wanted to keep it that way.

i'll have red hood put me out of my misery, you thought morbidly to yourself. maybe jordy wishing death on you this morning was a blessing in disguise because you were progressively feeling more like shit with each passing moment.

you braced yourself for the crisp nighttime air and the dangers lurking around every corner before opening the door. it was dark, as expected. you had your hands stuffed in the pockets of your sweatpants. your right hand rested right on top of your phone carefully stashed away in the black polyester pocket.

your sense of direction was, to put it lightly, dog shit, and the pitch blackness of night wasn't helping. you had your airpods in with the gps telling you where to go. if it had a mind of its own, it would probably be judging you for needing to locate a building that was 5 minutes away. nevertheless, hearing the robo voice in your ears was oddly comforting.

the walk there wasn't that bad once you got to the area with all the traffic, illuminated with fluorescent lighting from the surrounding stores. it was the first time you felt comfortable under blinding white light.

you walked into the store quietly, beelining for the cold food section. you grabbed hot fries and sour skittles on your way over for dex, wanting to soften the blow for when you told him you left the studio by yourself. you spotted the salted caramel flavor through the condensation on the glass and you could already taste the creamy treat on your tongue. you smiled to yourself, grabbing the handle to the door when you heard the automatic door to the store open, accompanied by a chime.

"hey, man, what's going on?" you heard the voice of the cashier from behind you. you grabbed your yogurt and turned around, freezing in place when you saw who had entered.

red hood!

you could hear jordy's enthusiastic voice from this morning bounce around in your head like a pinball. the man you had been talking shit about earlier was right in front of you. jesus christ, was he there for you? how did he even find you? the video hadn't even dropped yet!

he must have felt your intense gaze burning a hole in the side of his head because he turned to face you. thankfully, you slid to the side, hiding behind the chips. he knew you were there and that you had been staring at him, even though he didn't catch you in the act. you attempting to hide yourself behind the buy two, get one free mini chip bags was slightly suspicious, but to be fair, he did just walk into a public place as red hood, so he let it go. turning back to salim, the cashier, he grabbed the bag of m&m's he had slid him.

he always paid for the things he picked out when he came to the store, but salim always gave him m&m's for free. red hood kept his store and community safe, so in salim's eyes, giving him candy that only cost a dollar anyway was nothing.

you started grabbing some other snacks, slowly weaving through the aisles as to not cause alarm to the huge man standing not to far from you. you knew he was big but fuck. he was built like a freight train. probably hit like one, too.

"anyone give you trouble tonight?" you heard a voice, his voice. it was distorted behind that mask... helmet... thing. it sounded robotic. was he actually a robot? like cyborg or something?

"nah, it's been quiet tonight," salim shook his head as the vigilante grabbed a little bag of cookies from the shelf behind him, setting it on the counter before asking for a carton of cigarettes. "i heard that jewelry store on bedford ave got hit though."

bedford avenue? your studio was on bedford avenue, tucked away from the main street. the store wasn't too far from it, either. you must have been so wrapped up in working that you didn't hear the commotion because it was definitely close enough for you to hear it.

"just came from there," the vigilante informed him, his robotic voice being both intriguing and off putting to you. he walked back over with the warm cup of liquid in his gloved hand, setting it on the counter next to the cookies.

must have just missed it then, you thought to yourself, if he just came from over there. lucky me.

"you alright, honey?" salim called out to you with familiar affection. he always treated everyone who came to his store with respect and like family. he was always very sweet to you and he felt a sense of pride knowing that he had both celebrities and vigilantes frequenting his store.

"don't tell me you're trying to rob me," he added on at the end, getting the attention of red hood. he wasn't sure if salim was being serious or not. it would confirm his suspicions about your weird behavior from earlier. it would be kind of ballsy to try something while he was standing there, though.

"uh... yeah. this is a stick up. give me everything you got," you said lamely, standing on your toes to peek at him over the shelf.

salim's rich laughter filled the store and he shook his head. "just checking," he said before redirecting his attention to red hood, who loosened up when he realized it was just banter between friends.

you realized the longer you spent in the store, the later it would get. you waddled your way over to the counter with your snacks in your arms a comfortable distance away from red hood, who set cash on the counter. he looked over at you again, making you shrink under his gaze. he was essentially faceless, which was a little unsettling, to say the least. he turned away, grabbing his things and moving out of your way.

you put all of your snacks on the counter, trying to ignore the man's presence. he wasn't doing anything but being intimidating.

"you here by yourself, honey?" concern laced salim's words as he rung up your snacks. "it's a little late, isn't it?"

"oh, uh, yeah," you nodded, pulling your card out to pay. "everyone else is at a party in maywood."

as red hood was walking out, his brow furrowed when he heard what you were talking about. maywood was where all the big social events took place. he had been out there a few times with bruce. not anyone could go to a party out there so...

"ah, one of those celebrity parties you all go to, huh?" salim grinned, giving you your bag of goodies. he still felt unsure about you being by yourself, though. "hey, red! you should walk her back home."

he was almost out the door when he heard salim call out to him. he turned, looking at the both of you. you felt awkward looking at him and you quickly shook your head.

"no, no, it's fine. the studio isn't far," you told him and salim firmly shook his head in protest.

"it's late. you shouldn't have even walked here to begin with," he scolded you a little. it was just out of concern, of course. "she's a big time celebrity, you know."

you frowned at salim's description of you. not being able to read red hood's expressions to gauge how he felt about this whole thing was frustrating, too. he was probably glaring daggers at you.

"i can take you," the robotic voice said. normally he wouldn't be escorting civilians around but he was done for the night and if you really weren't that far, it wouldn't kill him to walk you back to wherever you were headed. he was in a good mood, even if it didn't appear that way.

"see? let the man take you back," salim pushed and you complied, giving him a little nod. "you two stay safe out there! i don't need my favorite customers getting hurt."

you waved goodbye to salim, turning to see that red hood had already started walking off. you quickly shuffled your way out to follow behind him.

"where are we going?" he asked, not even giving you a glance as you both stood on the sidewalk.

"bedford," you said quietly and he turned to face you, his look of disbelief hidden under the mask. why the hell would you leave? you had to have left while the heist was still going on. no wonder salim asked him to take you home. clearly you had a death wish.

"lead the way," he said to you, trailing behind you as you listened to the gps tell you where to go. you hoped he didn't have supersonic hearing or something, because needing to use the gps was still kind of embarrassing.

you two walked in silence, the sound of your plastic bags and the ambient city noises being the only sounds ringing in your ears. you felt a little safer having red hood as your temporary bodyguard but you'd rather risk dying to avoid the awkward silence.

"so big time celebrity," red hood spoke up, startling you a little. you almost thought it was the gps talking to you. "what do you do?"

he knew you were feeling awkward and probably afraid walking with him. he wasn't trying to scare you, though. he figured talking to you would ease the tension a little.

"oh, uh... music," you said simply.

what a dry response. were you expecting him to carry the whole conversation? because he wasn't.

"why are you out here and not in maywood?" he asked, carrying the conversation anyway.

"the studio is here so i'm here."

"so you're working?"

"yeah."

you were not fun to talk to. he wasn't going to hold it against you though. he himself probably didn't come off as a guy who wanted to talk.

"do you shoot just anyone?" you asked suddenly.

well that was one hell of an icebreaker. did he just shoot anyone? where the hell did that come from? were you that afraid of him?

"no," he said, hoping you couldn't hear his smile in his words. it was such an odd question to ask. "why? you think i'm gonna shoot you or something?"

"are you?" you asked panicked, whipping around to face him.

he put his hands up in mock surrender, letting out a laugh this time. "relax. you haven't given me a reason to want to shoot you. or have you?"

"i hope not," you said honestly, turning back around to continue walking.

"i'm not going to shoot some innocent girl, let alone a famous one. it's a bad look," he explained to you, hoping the humor behind his voice would make you relax a little.

"why don't you wear a hood?" your line of questioning continued. "you're red hood but you don't wear a hood."

"why do you keep asking ridiculous questions?" he asked rhetorically before answering your question anyway. "a hood doesn't protect the face."

well, that made sense, actually. it looked like that helmet thing he wore was made of metal or something. much better protection than cotton. it was still off brand but you could respect it.

"what the hell are you wearing?" the man had exclaimed suddenly, making you furrow your brows and look back at him. his gaze was down at your feet. "how did i not notice those before?"

"clearly that stupid helmet obstructs your vision," you pouted, looking down at the cute bunnies that sat on the strip of your pink slides. "they're my slides."

"they're hideous," he told you seriously and you scoffed.

what an asshole. how dare he insult your babies like that? they were minding their fucking business, chilling on your feet. they didn't asked to be attacked like this.

"you're hideous," you retorted childishly. "my bunnies are cute, thank you very much."

"how am i hideous? you can't even see me," he reminded you, tapping on his helmet.

"your outfit is hideous. you look like... i don't know. ugly. your face is probably ugly, too," you huffed, crossing your arms.

you wished you could go back in time and not apologize for insulting him earlier. he deserved it.

"you wound me," he said sarcastically, placing a hand over his heart. "how will i recover?"

"give me your gun and let's find out," you said, holding out your hand jokingly before getting it swatted away by his.

okay, fine. he wasn't that bad. you were actually kind of enjoying the conversation and so was he.

"arrived," you heard in your ears, looking up and seeing the studio right before your eyes.

you had been so wrapped up in bantering with him that you forgot what you were doing in the first place: going back to the studio. you almost felt disappointed that you were about to go your separate ways. you had just gotten comfortable.

"this is the place," you said, gesturing up to the building. "thank you for walking me here."

"try to keep your late night excursions to a minimum."

and with that, he used his grappling hook and disappeared into the shadows of the night. creepy. kinda cool but mostly creepy.

you walked around back to the side door, letting yourself back into the studio and locking up immediately afterwards. another successful snack run. now all you had to do was wait for dex to get back.

...

it had been about two weeks since your encounter with the vigilante. jason had long forgotten about it. he had been at the manor, lingering around after a meeting in the cave with bruce and his brothers. he didn't like sticking around once business was taken care of but alfred offered to make him chili dogs. it was a calculated move to get him to stick around and it worked.

tim was lounging on the arm chair while dick and damian were both seated on the couch. jason stood off to the side, directing his attention to the television that sat above the fireplace. tim had been watching youtube videos all day and stumbled across a gotham insider q&a that had a clickbait-y title about vigilantes. naturally, he was intrigued and wanted to watch it with the rest of them.

"what am i looking at?" he asked, taking a bite of his chili dog.

"something hilarious. i've been waiting to show you guys all day," tim explained, grabbing the remote.

"i hope this isn't something juvenile, drake," damian chimed, resting his body against the arm of the couch.

"or gross," dick co-signed with a grimace. "we just ate."

"just shut up and watch," he sighed, unpausing the video.

jason felt a little tingle in the back of his mind at your face was on the screen. you looked familiar. he silently watched as you and jordy discussed your feelings about vigilantes. dick snorted when he heard your comment about nightwing. tim began to snicker in anticipating for the main event: the red hood argument.

as jason watched, everything made sense. you were that weird girl he walked home. that was why you asked him those stupid questions. he was a little annoyed at you calling him stupid and off brand but he had to admit the segment was funny. especially the part at the end where you were begging him not to shoot you. you seemed so much more relaxed and naturally funny than you did when he was with you that night. it almost gave him whiplash.

"you should shoot her. for good measure," damian told jason once the clip ended, making the older boy roll his eyes.

"nah. i can't shoot my bard," he smiled, making dick smile too. he had expected jason to be all grumpy about getting talked about but he seemed to be taking it fairly well. tim was kinda disappointed that jason didn't seem more bothered by it. he wanted to tease him a little.

"i think red hood payola is probably the funniest thing i've heard in awhile," dick said, laughing along with tim. even damian cracked a little smile.

jason walked back to the kitchen, recalling that night he ran into you now that he had seen the video, finally understanding why you were acting so strange.

his bard, huh? cute...

[sunshineseung]

Practice // Seungmin

💌 Info: Stray Kids Seungmin x female!reader smut 💕 Includes: begging, looots of pet names, mentions of "sir", choking, fingering, unprotected sex, slight breeding kink at the end, exhibitionism (semi-public), a lil more I kinda forgot what I wrote oop 👉👈 ✏️ Word Count: ~1.7k

"Babe, are you sure you want to do this? Here?!" Your breath was heavy as you were pinned against the wall of a dark closet by your boyfriend, Seungmin. He eyed your body like it was his, and when you finally make eye-contact with him, his eyes are darker than the ocean. Just the sight of his lust filled gaze is enough to make your legs shake and your mouth water.

"Shush, baby. You don't want the other members to hear us, do you?" Seungmin brings you into a sloppy, desperate kiss, and your tongues intertwine nearly immediately. His hands rested at your hips and pulled you close, and your hands wrapped around his neck.

As turned on as you were, it felt wrong to fuck your boyfriend in a janitorial closet while the other members were out getting lunch. They'd be back soon, and even with that knowledge, Seungmin still wanted to take his sweet time with your body. His hands roamed your sides, effortlessly slipping your shirt over your head, momentarily breaking the kiss. His hands were so gentle, and the more you made out, the more they felt around your chest, eventually unhooking your bra and playing with your nipples.

"Wow, look at my princess." Even though the room was practically pitch black, Seungmin stepped back to admire you. "So beautiful. So prefect."

You blush, but Seungmin can't see. His eyes are transfixed on your chest, and soon after, so are his lips. You let out the softest yelp when his teeth sink into the sensitive skin on your tits, and you feel his smirk grow against your skin. Leaving love bites in his wake, he teases your chest to the best of his ability, and every sound you let out sounds like the most beautiful symphony.

He groans on your breast when his bulge brushes against your leg, and you giggle down at him. Fuck, he was so hard, and it was so painful. He wanted so badly to take you without hesitation, but that would mean you won, and he loves to tease you too much to let you win.

"Sweetheart, don't laugh at sir like that. You know better." Oh, he's in that mood. You quickly apologize, but a smile still adorns your face, and Seungmin can't stand when you're amused by him attempting to dominate you.

He picks up your thighs and pushes you against the wall, his bulge fully pressing into your heat. Your smile fades immediately, and you look at him with the neediest shine in your eyes. He gives you an all to familiar glare, and you know exactly what you need to do.

"Please fuck me, sir. I've been such a good girl." Your voice is an octave higher than usual, and your panties have long been soaked through by your wetness. Your aching pussy tightens around nothing when Seungmin places his hand around your throat, pressing his fingers against the sides of your neck. His eyes are half-lidded, but even in the darkness, you can tell he's staring at your lips, hungry for another kiss.

"Aw, my pretty little whore wants to be fucked, huh?" His voice is edging on sarcasm, and he's just quiet enough for you both to hear the door of the practice room opening and closing, a parade of seven boys entering the room chattering among themselves. "Stay quiet while I fuck you, or else the others will have to see you being a slut for my cock."

He lifts your skirt up and pushes your panties to the side. You feel his finger brush up and down your pussy, but when he circles his digit around your clit, you nearly loose your cool and moan for the entire room to hear. You slap your hand over your mouth to muffle your noises, but Seungmin grabs your wrist and pulls it back down to your side.

"If you're gonna moan, I want to hear it."

Seungmin's fingers pump in and out of you relentlessly, and when he bends his fingers to find your spot, you start to see stars. He knows your cunt like the back of his hand, and he knows exactly how to play with you to get you to cum. Your orgasm approaches, and the quietest whimpers leave your mouth. You move your head next to Seungmin's ear, only allowing him to hear you.

"Where's Seungmin and Y/n?" Chan looks around the practice room where he last saw you two. Before they went to get food, you and Seungmin were on the couch on your phones, but now you were no where to be found.

"They might have gone out to eat somewhere." Jisung accidentally covers for you two.

"He would have texted me, though." Chan starts overthinking. He's tempted to search every square inch of the building so they can practice, but Hyunjin inclines him to break off practice early. "They'll come back, so let's practice what we can right now."

The footsteps of the dancing from the practice room cover the sound of Seungmin pulling down his sweatpants and boxers, groaning when his length springs free. While one hand moves his clothing, the other continues to finger you. The lewd sounds from your pussy should have alerted the others by now, but lucky for you two, they were too oblivious to pick up on the slick sounds of your cunt being violated by your boyfriend.

Seungmin lines himself up with your entrance, teasing your tight pussy with the precum leaking tip of his cock. He runs the head through your folds, spreading your wetness.

"Beg for it, princess."

"I need your cock so bad, sir. Please let me cum all over your cock." You squeeze your eyes closed, the stimulation becoming too much for you to bear. "I want your cum inside me, sir."

"As you wish, baby." Seungmin slowly pushes his thick cock into you, reveling in the pathetic whimpers that escape your mouth. He holds you close to him, and your head falls onto his shoulder. You begin biting down on his exposed shoulder, and he's positive the other members will make fun of the hickey you're leaving on him. "Holy shit, you're so fucking tight, Y/n."

His voice is hoarse, but your moans are high, making a perfect balance of grunts. His cock fills you up, and you love feeling full, but you also love the overwhelming sensation of his member ramming into your g-spot. You feel the knot in your stomach, and painfully begin to chase your orgasm, you ride Seungmin while he fucks you at the perfect pace. Your hips move in sync with each other, and you nearly forget about the seven men on the other side of the door.

"Fuck, I'm so close, sir. May I cum?" You can't speak above a whisper, and without a word, Seungmin nods in approval. He slams into you one last time before you're left unraveling against him, your orgasm hitting you like a tsunami. Your moans get loader, but not load enough for anyone else to hear.

When your orgasm subsides, Seungmin doesn't stop, but rather fucks you harder, chasing his own orgasm. His thrusts get messy and uncoordinated, and you whine from the pain of overstimulation. His cock twitches, but he still holds his cum back.

"I want to fill you up with my cum. You'd look so pretty walking around with my cum inside you." As filthy as his words are, they only turn you on more. Your chest bounces as he fucks you without mercy, his cock begging to cum. You tighten around him, inciting him to release, but he still holds. "You're my little cumslut, right, babe? You want to be filled with my cum."

You nod into his neck, sucking more messy hickeys into his side. He throws his head back, his orgasm threatening to wash over him. Low groans leave his lips as he pulls you down, releasing his load as deep inside you as possible. Sweat dribbles down his forehead as his cock spurts hot cum inside your pussy. Once finished filling you, he remains inside you, fucking into you ever so slightly to make sure as much if his cum stays inside you as possible.

When he pulls out, he reaches for paper towels from the shelf behind him (you're in a janitors' closet after all). He cleans the cum from between your legs, and you hold your skirt up for him. Although it's hard to stand, you lean against the wall you were just being fucked against. Seungmin's cum drips down your legs, and he's beyond tempted to lick your pussy clean, but instead, he covers your cum filled hole with your panties, patting the cloth against you.

Seungmin stands up, cleans himself up, and puts his cock back in his pants. You fix your skirt, and put your bra and shirt back on. You nearly step out of the room before realizing that the other seven boys are still outside. You turn to Seungmin, and once again without saying a word, his eyes widen as he reaches for his phone.

Seungmin: Hey! Can you get the other guys to come back to the dorm? Y/n and I were out to eat and I think I ate some bad pork.

Chan: Oh, sure! We'll be back ASAP. Need anything?

Seungmin: Can you get something for my stomach? I feel reallly sick. :(

Chan: Of course! See you soon!

You hear Chan reading off Seungmin's texts, footsteps, and the door slam before you and Seungmin step out of the closet. The coast was clear, and you were free to talk.

"Hey, Min, you know we gotta sprint home now, right?"

"Yeah, but we'll be fine. They're getting medicine, so it'll take them longer."

"'Babe, I can hardly walk." You point down to your legs, which feel like jelly. Seungmin purses his lip, but comes up with an idea.

"We can just walk, but halfway there, I'll have to carry you."

"... fine."

[justboredtingz]

ISTG tumblr hates me! I promise I’m working on the fic you requested! And can I get illumi with a black boo who can hold her own and don’t take no shit especially from his punk ass mama! Also you notice how fucking BUILT that man is GODDAMN those shoulders!!! 🤪 also I wanna braid his hair

his hoe ass mama would probably be mad BECAUSE you’re black smh bird ass she always gotta find a problem with something I’m really sitting here mad asl writing this LOL but anyway this is just a bad porno with some plot so   e n j o y

“I know I called your mom a broke down ass bitch but she tried me!” You plopped down on the couch of your apartment before letting out an annoyed groan,” I told you it was a bad idea to bring me! You know I don’t do disrespect and you KNOW I get active! She only said that bullshit cause I’m black and we both know it!” 

If Illumi wasn’t there to drag you away, you’re almost positive you’d have tried to knock kikyo’s head off of her shoulders, completely disregarding the fact that she’s the mother of a family of assassins. At this point, Illumi’s blood lust that was radiating off of his body couldn’t compare to yours. She should have never said that you weren’t the “type” of person she thought Illumi would get with. Especially not while looking at the perfect ass twist out you took forever on! This all started because he decided it was time to introduce you to his mother, considering the fact that you both have been in a relationship for well over a year. You had already met his father and the guy seemed to be quite supportive of it all, as long as you didn’t get in the way of Illumi’s work. Hoping for the same reaction from his mother, you showed up dressed as classy as possible and made sure to be respectful, but it seems like his mother had other plans. Well, it ended up with you going off on the woman and exposing some of the.. Sinful escapades you’ve participated in with her son. 

Illumi chuckled to himself as he locked the door behind him before joining you on the couch. He pulled you closer to his body by your waist to place a lingering kiss to your neck, “you’re quite bold for speaking to my mother like that, it reassures me I made the right choice in choosing you to be mine.”

There have been many times before where you did not HESITATE to tell someone they’re wrong, especially when it came to Illumi. At some point you had even went off on Hisoka and made him apologize. It’s definitely one of the reasons Illumi took interest in you; what’s not attractive about a woman who can hold her own?

His words never failed to send butterflies straight to your core, “yea well if you ever find me dead somewhere it’s because ya mama put a hit out on my head. But you best believe they’re gonna have to put up a fight!”

With the same unreadable expression he always wears, Illumi turned your head to where you could look into his eyes,” I suppose that means I have to have as much fun with you as I can before that happens, right?“

It was hard as is to get Illumi on an intimate level( most of the time you’d have to whine for him to even touch you), so having him actually initiate it gets you excited. The reason being, he gets aggressive in the best way possible. With a smirk, you pulled his head closer to yours to a point your lips skimmed his,“ If this ‘fun’ you speak of doesn’t involve me getting fucked senseless I don’t want it~”

Illumi snaked a hand under your shirt, giving your breast a slight squeeze. His usual dark eyes seemed to grow darker by the second,” Take off everything for me.”

He did not have to tell you twice. He allowed you to get up and strip down, standing in front of him in all of your naked glory.

He reached out for you, bringing you down to straddle his lap,” I like you much more like this.”

You made quick work of grinding yourself against his clothed crotch, gripping his shoulders for support. Without breaking eye contact, one long finger found itself swiping between the lips of your sex, his cold touch causing your back to arch. Without warning, he pushed his finger into your hole, slowly pumping it while massaging your clit with his thumb. You continued to grind yourself on his hand, starting to feel your body heat up,”mmm~”

His cock twitched, but he ignored it as he pushed a second finger into your begging heat, feeling it try to suck him in with a lewd squelch. He stretched you out and curved his fingers when he found that one spot that makes you dizzy. 

Your pace quickened as he continued to finger you and rub rough circles around your clit. “Let’s see how long you can hold out, don’t cum until I tell you to, darling.” All you could do was nod and clinch around his fingers, trying desperately to hold everything in. He bore into you with the black holes called his eyes, watching every reaction and expression strewn across your lovely features.

“Illumi~ I- I can’t..” He was the only one capable of getting you off only from his fingers. The way he was looking at you wasn’t helping your case either. You were so close and you really wanted to hold it in, but the more he touched you the harder it became.

His other hand found itself wrapped around your throat with a firm grip, “You can and you will. Since when are you the type to defy me?” His head was tilted at an angle, daring you to disobey.

At this point your eyes were rolling to the back of your head, it felt like in any second you could just explode. Words were falling out of your mouth but you weren’t sure exactly what you were saying until..

“Cum.”

Static covered your mind as a hot liquid dripped from your core all over Illumi’s hand, however he continued to massage your clit, milking out as much as he could. 

“Oooo fuck~” your head fell into his shoulder, body shaking from aftershocks.  

Illumi removed his fingers, admiring the way the light reflected off of your juices, “You follow instructions so well, darling, I might be having my children sooner than expected.” 

“So you’re telling me that all I had to do to have your babies is be a good girl? You could have told me that a long time ago,” you murmured. He only hummed before picking you up by your thighs to carry you to your bedroom, “Now.. Let’s see how much of my cum you can hold inside tonight,”

 You couldn’t help but let out an excited giggle. We’re getting to the good part!

After dropping you on the plump comforter with ease, Illumi began taking his shirt off. Broad shoulders, smooth skin, lean muscle. God really came through the day he put you and lucifer himself together. 

With a new determination, you scrambled to the edge of the bed and brought your hands to the waistline of his pants, harshly pulling them down to set his erection free. Before you had the chance to touch him, he pushed your shoulders to where you were completely on your back. You were about to question him before he spoke.

“Open you legs, (y/n),” He ordered. You can only choke back a needy plea and do as he says, spreading yourself wide enough so he could see what he does to you.

He’s staring at your damp flesh with a hungry look in his eyes. The intensity of it by itself could send you over the edge. 

You scooted closer to the edge of the bed where he was standing. “Whatever you’re thinking about doing please please please come do it,” you whined. If he took any longer you were just gonna have to fuck him yourself.

“When you beg so nicely, how could I refuse?” He replied, already pulling you by your thighs to line himself up with your hips.

 The blunt head of his cock parted your inner muscle and the farther he went, the pure length of his cock made you feel like you were choking. He angled his hips, insinuating himself deeper until you felt the base of his shaft meet with your soft skin. 

Your core gave a few involuntary spasms at the invasion, still shaky from your first orgasm. All you could do was let a drawn out moan, “Ilumi~~”

Without any warning, he cants his hips back, then forces back in. Your toes curled in the air as you held your knees to your chest. A soft grunt leaves you as he does it again, then again, then again, all in which are slow, hard, deep. It’s like the air is forced out of you with every thrust, pleasure burning from the inside out.

Illumi’s hand found itself sliding up to your stomach, his pace changing into something more aggressive,” Soon, you’ll be all full and plump with my children. Hold in everything that I give to you and you’ll be rewarded.” 

“please~” Tears began to prickle your eyes from the pure force he’s using. The palm on your stomach slid up farther and found a permanent spot on your sternum, most likely being used as leverage as he fucks into you.

The harder he pounded your soft, pliable insides into jelly, the more submissive you felt; you felt like you were truly becoming pregnant and it certainly wasn’t a feeling you were against. Your fingers scratched up his chest until they came down on his shoulders, pulling him so you could feel him against you. He didn’t fight it and gave you the satisfaction of hearing his heavy breaths in your ear. 

Sex rubbed raw from the friction and pleasure, your second orgasm was coming close. Your vision became static once again, but this time it was far more intense.

“Fuck please! Please fucking cum in me!! I need it so much oh my god-” Your words fumbled out in a slur as you felt something inside of you burst. This only caused Illumi to go harder. He could literally break you if he wanted, but no, he’d rather have you walking around full of his cum or fat with his kids. Either way was perfectly fine with him.

At last, a quiet grunt forces itself from his throat, and he pushes your legs as wide open as they go for his last few pumps, trying to stuff his cum all in.

“Hold it all in, (y/n), don’t let a single drop fall,” Illumi thrust himself in as far as he could go and sat still.

You both lied there for a moment before he sat up off of you, looking down to see pearls of milky fluid drip down his cock, your pussy still clenching tight around him from how good he had fucked you, like it would kill you if he left you empty. You knew it, just from the look in his eyes, without saying a word. There was almost no doubt you were carrying his baby after this. 

Thinking you were done, you never expected him to pull out of you and flip you over to where your ass was in air. 

“Huh?-”

“I just want to be sure~”

Yea his punk ass mama gonna be real mad when she got some little black babies running around smh

[chilling-seavey]

Passchendaele - Richard’s Birth Story

A/N Always have a soft spot for birth stories...they always feel so magical...even if this one happened a little chaotically 

Warnings: Not too in-depth descriptions of labour and delivery compared to my other birth stories but there’s some still.

March 1, 1918

Frances Besson was a stubborn little girl and she had her mother labouring for hours before she arrived in the world and took her first breaths. Richard Besson, on the other hand, played polar opposites with his sister. Although, being 1918, Christine and Corbyn wouldn’t know if they were having a boy or another girl for their second pregnancy until delivery, their son sure made it apparent that he didn’t want them to have to wait any longer.

It was early morning, around 5am, when Christine woke up to the familiar pain of contractions. And they came strong. She flung her arm out to smack her husband awake beside her and right away, Corbyn was switching on the lamp and turning to tend to her. The pain came strong and fast and Corbyn rushed downstairs to the telephone to ring the midwife.

It was March 1st and, just their luck, the late winter meant another thick blanket of snow coated most of the outskirts of London and the midwife was taking a while to navigate her way through the remanence of the storm.

As stated earlier, for her second pregnancy, Christine progressed quickly. By the time Corbyn hung up the phone and got back upstairs to the master bedroom, Christine had pushed all the bedsheets to the floor and was nearly habitually in a labouring position on the bed.

“Okay, my love.” Corbyn spoke softly, being cautious of the sleeping toddler in the next room as he tended to his wife, “Midwife is coming as quick as she can. How are you feeling?”

“How am I feeling?” Christine panted, sweat already pooling at her hairline. “Christ, Corbyn, this pain came fast.”

She cried out loudly, fisting the bedsheets beside her as her face contorted in pain.

Corbyn glanced towards the bedroom door nervously, worrying her cries would wake their firstborn. When no little feet came patting down the hallway, he focussed back on his wife, taking stand at the foot of the bed and pushed the bottom of her nightgown up to take a look. She was far too overcome with hot pain to argue with her husband’s movements. He remembered quite a bit from the previous delivery and he helped himself to slide his two fingers between her legs.

“Corbyn, what in God’s name are you doing?” Christine snapped, wincing as he felt for her progress.

“Baby is right there, Chrissy.” Corbyn breathed with wide eyes as he took his fingers back and set his hands on her spread thighs. “You didn’t have any pain until now?”

Christine shook her head quickly, biting on her bottom lip as she stared fearfully at her husband, “Was a little uncomfortable last night but no pain. Just – ahh – just now!”

Corbyn glanced out the window that overlooked their front yard, trying to see any sign of the midwife on her bicycle through the snow and orange sunrise. He sighed, “Okay, let me just…I’ll just wash my hands.”

He hurried down the hall to the bathroom and furiously scrubbed his hands, catching his own wide eyed gaze in the mirror. Oh, Lord, if the midwife didn’t come soon he was going to be the one delivering the child. Corbyn was comfortable in the sciences, and in biology too, but if he made one wrong move it could be terrible. He said a quick prayer before slinking back out of the bathroom.

On his way back to the master bedroom, he stopped at the first door and peeked inside at the pink wallpapered room. Tucked up on the single bed under the soft quilt, his daughter slept soundly, looking so tiny at barely two-years-old. Corbyn smiled softly and closed the door again before returning to his wife.

He helped to tie her hair back and cool her slightly with her paper hand fan and comforted her through her rapid contractions.

“Where is this bloody nurse?” Christine snapped.

Corbyn peeked out the window again. There was no sign of anyone. He swore under his breath and turned back to his wife as she cried out in pain again.

“Dada.”

Corbyn’s ears peaked at the soft voice from the doorway and he looked over to see the tiny pair of brown eyes staring at him through the thin opening. Christine bit down on her bottom lip to keep somewhat calm around her young daughter and Corbyn rushed over to the toddler.

“Hey, Frankie girl.” Corbyn said sweetly, scooping her up into his arms.

Frances, still sleepy, curled into his neck, her worried eyes lingering on her mother.

“Mama’s gonna have a baby today so let’s give her some space, okay?” Corbyn whispered to his daughter and pressed a kiss to her chubby cheek. He said to his wife that he would hurry back and then rushed downstairs with the toddler.

Corbyn sat Frances on the kitchen counter and opened up the bread box in a hurry.

“Are you hungry, love?”

“Yeah.” Frances mumbled, watching him bustle about the kitchen with her blanket held in her tiny hands.

Corbyn slapped together the fastest jelly sandwich in his life before grabbing the plate in one hand and his daughter in his opposite arm and took her back upstairs. He sat her on the rug in her room and passed her the plate and a few toys from her toybox.

“Okay, be a good girl and sit right here for Daddy.”

Frances nodded obediently and then puckered out her lips. He dipped down to leave his small daughter with a sweet kiss and then hurried to find his wife.

“How is she?” Christine asked the moment he was back in their room.

“She’s fine. She’s eating. How are you?”

“Taking this brief moment to breathe.”

“Good.” Corbyn pet her hair from her warm face and kissed her forehead.

She wrapped her hand around his arm as she fell into another contraction and squeezed his bicep in her tight grip. Corbyn just stayed right there, watching her carefully as she groaned through the pain.

“Corbs.”

“Yeah, darling?”

Christine bit her bottom lip and scrunched her eyes closed, “Corbs, the baby wants to come now.”

“Now?” Corbyn leaned back from her with wide eyes.

“Yeah.” she strained, bearing down slightly despite how much she tried to stop it. “Oh God.”

“Okay, okay.” Corbyn rushed back over to the window with no sign of the midwife through the snow. He turned back to her, watching how the fresh morning light streaked oranges and pinks over their bed and his wife’s dark hair and soft skin. She was labouring and in pain and dripping sweat through it but she was beautiful and Corbyn took a second to admire her like that. Well, before her cry of agony ripped him back to reality.

“Corbyn Besson, stop staring at me and do something!” she shouted desperately.

Corbyn found himself at the end of the bed, staring wide eyed at the very faint bulge that was pushing its way out of his wife’s body.

“Bleeding Christ.” Corbyn breathed.

“What?” Christine cried, tears brimming in her eyes.

“I-I can see the baby.”

“Oh God! Where’s the midwife?!”

“No, no, this is okay. We’re alright.” Corbyn tried to assure her the best he could as he pushed her nightgown up around her middle. “We can get a good start without her.”

“I can try to hold it in!” Christine offered.

“Darling…”

“Oh God, no I can’t!” Christine sobbed, her attempt at holding back only let out with a hard push.

“Okay! Okay, this is okay.” Corbyn stumbled out, watching her muscles flex and tense as her body forced her to deliver. He helped to set her legs back and he moved right in with careful hands as she pushed hard again, screaming loudly through the house.

Corbyn felt sweat drip down his brow, his eyes flicking to the door and silently begging his daughter not to come looking for them. But when Corbyn told Frances to do something, she never went against his wishes, so she sat on her bedroom floor with a half eaten sandwich in front of her and jelly smeared down her nightgown and her worried brown eyes tuned into the scary sounds coming through the walls.

“Christ, Corbs, it hurts!” Christine wailed.

“You are doing so well, darling.” Corbyn said as strongly as he could.

Right at that moment, in the midst of another push, there was a knock at the front door.

“Hold it, Chrissy. That’s the midwife.” Corbyn couldn’t hide the relief in his voice as he scrambled up and nearly jumped down the entire flight of stairs in one leap. He ripped open the door to reveal the nearly frozen older lady on his doorstep and he let her in right away. “She’s upstairs. Already trying to deliver.”

“Oh my. Alright. I am so terribly sorry I took so long. Blasted storm came at the worst time.” The midwife said as they rushed upstairs. She headed right into the master and Corbyn stopped on the way to check on his daughter in the room beside them.

One look at her father and Frances’ frightened face was softening.

“Hi there, sweet girl.” Corbyn whispered, crouching right down in front of her, “Keep playing, okay? Only a few minutes and you can see Mommy and your new brother or sister.”

Frances just blinked at him as Christine’s shriek echoed through the house.

Corbyn stared at his daughter, stress pounding through his veins, and he could only leave her with a kiss, “Be right back. Stay put.”

He rushed back into the adjacent bedroom where the midwife was already set up and helping poor Christine through her delivery.

“This one’s a determined little thing, huh?” the midwife stated, “Really eager to come out and see the world!”

Corbyn grabbed onto his wife’s hand as she pushed down again, gritting her teeth and groaning hard through the room. She clutched his hand tightly as she bore down again, her other hand linked behind her one knee to keep her legs back.

“That’s it, Christine. You are an expert.” the midwife praised. “Head’s almost here.”

Corbyn couldn’t wait until the baby was born. Not only because he was excited and over the moon to meet his son or daughter, but because he hated seeing his wife in pain and he hated seeing the fear in Frances’ little face. He wanted the calm after the storm to come quicker.

It wasn’t long at all, mere minutes, before the head was born and then the shoulders, and with one more quick push, the baby was delivered into the midwife’s hands.

Christine’s relieved sigh was timed perfectly with the sharp cry from the foot of the bed and Corbyn’s eyes shone with glee as his son took his first breaths. Both Christine and Corbyn shed a few tears as the overwhelm of the last hour and a half washed over them and the baby was placed on mother’s chest.

“Oh, baby boy.” Christine sniffled, a beaming smile on her face through her relived and exhausted tears, cradling the crying baby against her body lovingly. “Oh, my goodness.”

Corbyn leaned right down to kiss her proudly and then set a gentle hand over their son’s damp head of soft brown hair.

“He’s so perfect.” Corbyn whispered through his smile and watery eyes.

“Isn’t he?” Christine sniffled happily, leaning up to kiss her husband again.

With the midwife helping to deliver the placenta, Corbyn went off to check on their daughter. Frances was still right where he had left her, unfinished sandwich on the plate in front of her and her mouth smeared in red jelly. Corbyn rushed right in to scoop her up and she clung onto him tightly.

“I’m so sorry, Frankie girl. We didn’t mean for it to happen like this. You were supposed to stay with Lizzie and Dani next week.”

Frances only sniffled and nuzzled into his neck.

“You’re my good girl, Frances Mae.” Corbyn whispered, rubbing her back lovingly. “You’re a big sister now.”

“Gotta baby, Dada?” Frances asked softly.

“Yeah. We have a baby boy.” Corbyn beamed, leaning back slightly to get her to look at him. He smiled at his daughter’s messy face and wiped her lips with the pad of his thumb to try and clean up some of the jelly. “You have a brother.”

Frances only hid herself back in his neck and tightened her arms around his shoulders.

They returned to the master bedroom together and Corbyn sat Frances on the bed beside Christine who was holding the nursing baby. The midwife had left the chord intact for a bit longer because Christine insisted they wait since that was Corbyn’s favourite part. Corbyn took the small scissors and snipped the chord cleanly and thanked the midwife with an honest smile. She let the family of four have their moments to bond as she cleaned up the area.

Frances, at not even two-years-old yet, was staring with wide brown eyes at the baby in her mother’s arms.

“This is your little brother, Frankie.” Christine whispered. “You can say hello.”

Frances looked from the baby to her mother and shook her head, scooting backwards a little away from them.

The parents laughed lightly at their unsure toddler.

“Look, Frankie girl, you can pet his hair like this.” Corbyn instructed gently, brushing his palm over the baby’s small head. The newborn mewled lightly as he fed, bare arms and legs squirming around a little at the soft touch.

Frances, always one to trust her father, stared at him for a moment unsure, but then carefully reached out a hand to touch the baby.

“There you go.” Corbyn praised softly, smiling at the first touch between siblings. “Isn’t he cute?”

“No.” Frances mumbled, taking her hand back quickly.

“Okay.” Corbyn laughed at their daughter’s bluntness and he leaned over his wife to scoop up the toddler again. Frances was always home in her father’s arms and she cuddled into him thankfully as they stared down at the baby nursing.

Christine hummed quietly as they simply stared at him, too much love in their hearts to even fit in their house. Or so it felt like. She looked up at her husband and sent him a tired smile, “I feel so complete now.”

Corbyn returned her smile and leaned down to kiss her, “Me too. Our family is all complete, you reckon?”

“Yes.” Christine agreed softly.

When the baby finished nursing and he pulled back from his mother’s breast with a soft cry, the midwife took him to be swaddled up warmly. Corbyn set Frances down with Christine so he could finally have a turn with their newest little one.

The midwife shared her goodbyes and told them to call for any reason at all and gave Christine a few reminders for recovery before she was leaving once more. Corbyn held the newborn in his arms and sat himself in the familiar chair by the window as his girls cuddled up together on the bed – Frances now more than glad her mother wasn’t screaming anymore.

The baby still had his eyes closed and Corbyn expected another little brown eyed child ever since his daughter was born with the sweetest chocolate brown eyes he had ever seen. But with a gentle pet to his son’s soft cheek and a little rock, Corbyn was stunned to silence by a mirror of his very own light eyes staring back at him.

“Oh my…hi, little one.” Corbyn cooed softly, his voice wavering under the innocent stare of his baby boy, “Hi, little man. You were so excited to meet us, weren’t you? Just couldn’t wait.”

“Did you see his eyes, Corbs?” Christine asked sweetly.

Corbyn choked up a little as he looked over at his smiling wife, “Yeah. He…He looks like me.”

“Gonna be so handsome; just like his daddy.” Christine whispered in adoration.

Corbyn only sniffled, turning back down to the newborn in his arms, stroking his hand over his faint brown hair, “My oh my, you’re going to be one loved little boy.”

The baby stared up at him with wide sleepy eyes, his tiny tongue pushing out between his lips as he squirmed slightly in his swaddle and let out a little whine. Corbyn shushed him easily, patting his back and rocking him slowly in the wooden chair by the window. Fatherhood was just natural to Corbyn and each hour that passed since the birth of their daughter and now their son only proved that. It was his favourite job in the whole entre world and the one thing he was most proud of in his life.

With Frances keeping a protective eye on her father and new baby brother from her mother’s side in bed and the baby drifting to sleep in the steady rocking of his father’s warm embrace, everything felt calm.

“Do we still like the name we picked out?” Christine asked softly.

Corbyn’s lips twitched up in a little smile at the mention of it, “Yes, I think so.”

“Me too.” Christine agreed, lazily petting her hand over Frances’ messy brown hair.

Corbyn stared lovingly down at his son, breathing out his name into the world, “Richard Zachary Besson. My son.”

He leaned down to press a kiss to the newborn’s tiny nose, earning an offended gasp from Frances.

“No!” she wiggled right out of her mother’s grasp and off the bed and scurried over to the rocking chair by the window, pushing her father’s cheek away from the baby and glaring at her little brother, “My Daddy. My kisses.”