#and landed my full weight on my shoulder

[arkon-z]

Why do I always remember that I never do anything right the first time after I do the thing? I'm too impatient and too impulsive to follow directions if they're only given as suggestions. Instead of taking a foundations class, I jumped right into what turned out to be an advanced class and I ended up wrenching my shoulder. If I don't find a way to get this impulsiveness under control, I am going to ruin myself, I just know it.

[hookechoes]

my left arm collapsed and i landed full weight on my shoulder during an attempted handstand and also got a nice little bruise when my resistance band got mad at me for trying to get my foot out of it. this was supposed to be a lighter day lmao

[dandyshucks]

need Guz to hug me tightly for like an hour solid oh my god dhdjdkl I went driving for the first time in over a year and I chewed my lip raw 😭😭

I'm starting to look like a caricature of Anxiety with all these physical symptoms and signs LMAO

[imabiscuitinthousandworlds]

I HATE HATE HATE LISTENING TO OLD PUNK SONGS AND FEELING EVERY FUCKING SYLLABLE.

WHAT DO YOU MEAN THIS ALBUM FROM 1996 IS GROWING MORE AND MORE ACCURATE AND IMPORTANT AGAIN. WHAT DO YOU MEAN I FEEL EXACTLY THE SAME ABOUT THE SAME INJUSTICES AS PUNK TEENS FROM THE 80s. WE'RE SUPPOSED TO FUCKING GO FORWARD AS SOCIETY THINGS ARE SUPPOSED TO GET BETTER I WANT NEW STRUGGLES! NEW! STRUGGLES!!

But, as Social Distortion put it so nicely in 1996: "Taking two steps forward and four steps back." (from Don't Drag Me Down, which is scarily accurate, h e l p.)

[yieldtotemptation]

BLUEBERRIES ft. Chaewon

chaewon x male reader smut

9k words

"SURPRISE ATTACK!"

—is the last thing you hear before your entire world tilts sideways, the weight of your girlfriend crashing into you, sending you toppling over the arm of your chair and onto the thankfully plush carpet.

And just like that, Kim Chaewon has arrived—shattering the quiet of your apartment with the sound of her giggles and the thud of your bodies.

To her credit, she gracefully lands on top of you—legs straddling your torso, hands pressing down on your chest—pinning you to the floor, and she's grinning—all doe-eyes and mischief, her hair fanned out around her like a strawberry-blonde halo.

"Do you surrender, baby?"

You could pretend to put up a fight—push back a little, buck your hips, take her by the waist—get a little rough. But why would you? Especially when losing meant having Chaewon on top of you.

So, like always, you decide it's best to give your girlfriend exactly what she wants and you play along: enjoying the creamy thighs squeezing your sides, that collarbone peeking out of your stolen sweatshirt, those impossibly large eyes looking down at you as she makes herself comfortable—and you respond with a rather theatrical groan, "I surrender, Chae."

"Nuh uh," she corrects you, her voice dropping down a comically low octave. "It's Chaewon-rys Targar-something, Queen of Apartment 19-4, Ruler of..."

"My fridge?" You offer.

"Very funny,” Chaewon replies, bemused.

It's been weeks without this—without her—and you've barely survived. Chaewon's schedule is a merciless beast, devouring every second of her time. But here she is, now, with you—on top of you—back in your life and picking up from exactly where she left off.

“But,” she continues, “seeing as you're in the mood for jokes how about… ThisI" Chaewon turns cruel, unveiling her most brutal method of torture—tickling. She catches you off guard, shifting her weight, her hands abandoning your chest and flying to your sides, her light fingers dancing over your ribs, her nails lightly digging in just enough to make you squirm.

"Wait-wait-wait!" You try to twist your way free, but she's got you good, her fingers now inching closer to your armpits, towards your most vulnerable spots. "Mercy!" you yell, but she's just getting started— “Mercy!”

"No mercy!" She's relishing this far, far too much, all giggles and grins, delighted at your pathetic efforts to struggle out from her grasp and escape her vicious assault. Your laughter comes out in uncontrollable bursts, as you desperately try to cover your sides to protect yourself from her onslaught.

"Ok-ok-ok-I give up! You win— you win—I give up!" You cry out, your laughter morphing into wheezes as Chaewon's relentless tickling at last, mercifully subsides.

"Aha! Round 129 goes to Kim-Chae-Won!" Chaewon turns and bows to an imaginary audience, mimicking a faraway crowd chanting her name "Kim-Chae-Won! Kim-Chae-Won!"

"I have once again been defeated," you feign a dramatic sigh, drawing an even harder laugh from Chaewon as you roll your eyes to the back your head and let your tongue loll out of your mouth.

Your apparent death does little to faze Chaewon, who takes this as an opportunity to plop down on your stomach, pressing her full weight down on your chest. She props her elbows on either side of your shoulders, her chin resting on her interlocked hands. “I guess it’s time to claim my prize.”

Chaewon slides her hands upwards, her fingertips walking up your arms towards your wrists, squeezing them lightly and pulling them over your head, holding them firm against the ground.

When your eyes finally refocus, she’s hovering over you, her button nose brushing against yours, and her lips—bright pink and slightly parted—just millimeters away from your own.

You're trapped under her, but you hardly mind—she's so warm, so soft, so natural—crime would skyrocket if this was considered a form of punishment.

"Let this be a lesson," she's whispering now, very much satisfied, so close that waves of her strawberry-blonde hair spill down on either side of your face. Strands tickle your nose with the scent of her shampoo, a floral bouquet that you've come to associate with lazy Sundays and the promise of warm breakfasts in bed. "I. Always. End. On. Top."

She finishes her victory speech by stealing a kiss—as light and sweet as she is—but it’s still far, far shorter than you'd like.

That simple kiss has your mind wandering, entertaining the thought of flipping the script—of surprising her, overpowering her and turning the tables.

You could grab her, kiss her long and hard—get rid of that ludicrously oversized sweatshirt and tear off those dangerously short sweatpants. Part those lithe, never-ending legs, feel the warmth of her bare skin against yours, mark your territory on her perfect, toned thighs and each individual abdominal muscle.

But the way she's looking at you, her cheeks flushed from the exertion, her eyes sparkling with playful triumph, she's so adorable that the thought of manhandling her right now seems almost...sacrilegious.

And, let's face it, it's seeing this side of her that you love—the Chaewon that's free from the glitz and glamour of the stage, the choreography, the smiles that are painted on for the cameras. The Chaewon that is not wearing the mask of someone enjoying herself, that is actually, genuinely having a good time.

Here, in your apartment, with the curtains drawn and the outside world blocked out, she's just yours—Kim Chaewon, your girlfriend. The one who laughs at your terrible dad jokes and makes fun of your outdated sense of style, the one who can tell whether you've had a good day or not just by how heavy your feet are when you walk through the front door, the one who knows all the perfect ways to make you relax after a tough day at—

Fuck.

Work.

The word sneaks into your mind like a ninja in the night—silent, swift, and really fucking inconvenient.

Fucking work.

A bullshit spreadsheet you're supposed to be updating and a deck that needs to be finished by tomorrow morning, even though you know it won't be looked at for another month.

You don't have to say anything, Chaewon's already reading the frown lines on your face. "Oh—no-no-no. That's your—'fun time is over I have work to do'—face. I hate that face."

"There's these slides..." you know you’re fighting a losing battle, your voice trailing off as you try to hold onto the last remnants of what was once a very pleasant afternoon.

"No way—not happening," Chaewon insists, emphasising her point with a firm squeeze of your wrists. "I only just came back from Japan, and it’s been weeks. There is no way you're going to ditch the beautiful love of your life for that laptop. I'm literally on top of you right now!"

"Come on, Chae, I was almost done when you came in—"

"—when I defeated you in combat and forced you to surrender— "

"At least let me do a quick review then I swear I'm all yours," you negotiate, trying to maintain eye contact with her but failing as your gaze falls to the laptop atop your desk, the open tabs taunting you. "Five minutes, tops."

"Nope, not moving, not going anywhere, you're just going to have stay under me like this forever." Chaewon's being petulant now—this is more your fault than anything, you've been spoiling her like a princess—and while she is acting like a brat, it's a brat of your own creation.

"Chae—come on—let me up, please."

"If I let you up, you'll get into one of your 'zones' and then it'll be hours before you’re done and you’ll completely ignore me," Chaewon pouts, her nose scrunching up in a way that's both endearing and exasperating. "And I've missed you too much for that."

"I promise I won't—”

Chaewon rolls her eyes at that.

“I'm serious—just let me up."

"Oh, you're serious now, how scary."

"Five minutes, Chae—"

“Bullshit.”

“Come on, let me up.”

"Or what, what are you going to—wait—what the—wait!"

It doesn't take much effort at all—face it, she's at best a hundred pounds soaking wet—but you're already on your feet, wrists free of her dainty fingers, holding her up with just one arm and a single hand palming an ample ass cheek.

You catch your breath as you stand, and she’s still reeling as the sudden balance shifts. She’s forced to cling to you, wrapping those long, toned legs around your waist, and looping her arms around your neck, her hands grasping at the back of your head as if she's afraid you're going to drop her.

"H-how the—how did you—I had you pinned!" Chaewon squeaks out, pure disbelief colouring her voice as she clings onto you.

You leave her to work through the logic on her own, returning to your desk, righting your fallen chair, all the while still holding Chaewon like a prize you've just won at an arcade.

"Hey! Don't ignore me!" Chaewon protests, but it's too late. You've already set her down on your desk, the laptop between the two of you like a barricade. She tries to keep her limbs wrapped around you, legs around your waist—do anything she can to stop you—but you gently, quite easily, peel her off—earning another scowl from your girlfriend.

You can feel Chaewon's eyes boring into you as you sit down at your desk, her legs swinging back and forth from the edge of the desk in frustration. The work itself doesn't take long—you were being honest—just a minor grammar check here, fixing some formatting there and—

"What was that? How did you just—”

It's the first time you've ever seen Kim Chaewon—usually so composed and untouchable on stage—so completely, utterly flustered.

"I don't get it. I mean did you just get this strong?" Chaewon's voice is small, barely heard over the sound of your keystrokes—trying to process what just happened. She's shifted on the desk, leaning back now on her palms, looking at you like you're a puzzle piece that doesn't fit anywhere at all. "Or have you always been—you were just—were you letting me win? Hey—why are you laughing?"

You hit a final 'enter', saving your work with a performative flair, and spin the chair around to face Chaewon so you can give her your full, undivided attention.

But she's not looking at you—no, she's still trying to make sense of it, her gaze flitting from the chair, to the floor, to the laptop, to your hands that are now folded neatly in your lap. You're expecting a comeback, something witty and biting, something that'll make you laugh, but she's just sitting there—pouting. Adorably so.

"Chae, come on."

"What?" She snaps out of her daze, the hardware in her head overclocking. "I just—I exercise way more than you—I run, I dance everyday, I go to the gym, I do pilates—you can't be that much stronger than me."

"I'm like twice your size, Chae." You chuckle, reaching for the water bottle on your desk and taking a well-earned swig. "And I do manage to sneak in some workouts when you're not around to tickle me to death."

"But... this whole time?" Chaewon asks, there’s an accusation in her voice as she crosses her arms over her chest, inadvertently distracting you with the way it makes her sweatshirt pull tightly across her breasts. It's too fucking cute, and you can't help but lean in for a kiss, but she turns her head away at the last second. "Every time, you've been taking it easy on me? Kiddie gloves?"

You sigh.  "More or less."

"Why?"

"I guess I thought you knew," you say with a sheepish smile, "but even then, I didn't want to spoil the fun for you." You take another sip of water, watching her carefully. "You're so competitive, Chae. And when we’re playing like this and you win, you're so... happy. I just like seeing that."

"But that's..." Chaewon stammers. "Even when we're... You know... You're so... Gentle with me."

"Of course, I never want to—I'm just afraid that—"

"Afraid of what? That you'll break me? Okay, Bruce Banner." Chaewon teases, seemingly having made some decision in her own mind, as she hops off the desk to face you. "So, you've been holding back? You really think you’re that much stronger than me?”

You give her a very cautious shrug.

"Prove it."

"What?"

"If you’re really as strong as you think. Show me. Here—take my wrists—" Chaewon says, holding them out to you, "—and I bet I'll still be able to break free like I always do."

“I’m not sure if this is such a good idea,” you say, setting your bottle aside and standing up to face her.

“Why? Chicken?” She answers, and you try not to facepalm, reminding yourself that it is easier to just give her what she wants—most of the time, anyway.

"Alright, if that's what you want," you reply, gently placing your hands on her shoulders and guiding her so her back is flat against the nearest wall. She's staring up at you the whole time, watching you intensely as you take both her wrists in one hand, holding it against the wall and above her head.

"Really, only one hand? This will be real easy to get out of—" Chaewon starts to taunt, but she never gets to finish her sentence, because your grip tightens around her wrists and she feels the full weight of your body pressing into hers. She tries to pull away, expecting the same give she's felt countless times before, but your hand is like a vice—firm and unyielding—and it dawns on her that she's not going anywhere.

Her eyes widen slightly, and she tries to hide her surprise—because she's still in the game, still playing along. She tries to push off from the wall with her legs, but you anticipate it, placing a hand on her waist and keeping her in place.

Even you're surprised at how little effort it is to keep her still—a small push here, a slight change in weight there—Chaewon is at your mercy and it feels... different.

"Wait—I can't—" Chaewon still hasn’t given up, squirming and wiggling, doing little to help her escape but a lot to make you want to keep her against you.

She's trapped, every move she makes only making it worse for her—better for you—moulding her body closer into yours, aligning the softness of her curves with the hard lines of your chest.

But still, she struggles, tries every way she can think of to break free—twisting, turning, pushing with her legs, even trying to bite you at one point—but her best efforts only make you chuckle, and press her harder into the wall, press yourself harder into her.

You can feel her heart racing beneath her sweatshirt, and there's something there—you both feel it—a sudden tension in her helplessness, a thrill in your newfound power over her. "Damn it—this is so—argh!"

Chaewon’s eyes meet yours, and there’s your confirmation—that spark of something new, something unspoken. It's not anger or fear—no, she's never looked at you with fear—it's something else entirely. It's excitement, curiosity, a hint of arousal.

And so, you lean in, closing the last gap between you, and kiss her—right there against the wall.

It's not the gentle peck she's used to, it's not the sweet, loving kiss she’s grown to expect—it's more. You don’t even understand it yourself—it's raw, it's passionate, it's the kind of kiss that could start a war—or end one—the kind of kiss that sucks all the air from the room.

Her body tenses up, and for a moment you fear that maybe this is too much, too far, and you ready to let her go.

But she melts into it—into you. You let go of her wrists to cradle her face, and her arms fall to your shoulders, wrapping around your neck as she kisses you back—kisses you like she doesn't want you to ever stop, like she knows she couldn't stop you even if she tried. Her nails dig into your skin, not painfully, but with enough pressure to remind you that she's here, that she's alive and real and in this moment with you.

You push her into the wall, the plaster giving a gentle protest, and she’s lifting her legs up—she’s straddling you again, gravity doing its job and keeping her affixed to your torso.

Chaewon adapts, her ankles lock behind your back, pressing herself against you, her thighs tightening around your waist, and she’s hips grinding down over your sweatpants.

It’s almost too much, too fast—zero to a hundred in record time. You break the kiss, panting, breathless, but Chaewon's eyes stay closed, her chest heaving, as if she's afraid that if she opens them, this moment will evaporate like a mirage.

"Enough proof for you?"

"Yeah," is all Chaewon can muster, and she opens her eyes, dazed, like you’ve just woken her up from a particularly good dream.

"I'm sorry," you say, the words coming out in a rush, "I didn't mean to lie to you, I just didn't want to ruin your fun. Are you upset?"

"Upset?" Chaewon repeats, letting the word roll around her lips. "Maybe a little bit," she's biting her lip—so endearingly—and you can see the wheels turning in her head—recalculating, reassessing. "But now I'm just..." she pauses, looking down and rolling her hips against you once more, "I'm just really, really turned on."

Her admission hangs in the air between the two of you, and the air in your apartment begins to feel hotter, thicker, laced with something new.

"I love how you take care of me, how you make me feel safe..." Chaewon continues, "But this... the way you're holding me up like this... So easily, it's just so..." Another shifting of weight, another grind of her hips, and she’s slowly discovering what your sweatpants is making very little to hide. "Hot."

"Is that right?" You can't take your eyes off her lips, the way they form those delicious words. Maybe you've been wrong to treat her like she's fragile, like you could hurt her if you're not careful enough. Maybe what she’s really been craving is to prove herself to you, to prove to you that she can handle you—all of you. "Tell me what you like about it."

"I like how—ah—" Her voice hitches as you let go of her waist with your hand, sliding it under her sweatshirt, running your fingers over her toned stomach, feeling it cave in a sharp inhale. "How in control you are. How strong you feel."

Even without your hand at her waist she doesn't fall—her legs simply tighten around your waist, her grip on your neck becoming more secure, more possessive. You trace her belly button with your fingertip—her breath catches, her eyes flutter shut.

"How it feels like you could do—mmm—" she continues, her words getting lost as your hand rises higher up her body, reaching the swell of her breasts. Chaewon arches her back, pushing her chest out for more, a soft mewl escaping her lips. “—could do anything to me and I wouldn't be able to stop you."

You slip your fingers under her bra, the fabric stretching to accommodate your touch, press your thumb against her nipple, feeling it pebble under your touch. You pinch and roll them lightly, basking in her reactions, the way her eyebrows furrow, the way her mouth forms a perfect 'O'.

"I can do anything I want to you."

Chaewon's eyes open, and she’s looking at you like she’s seeing someone entirely different in place of her usual, doting boyfriend. She's panting, her chest rising and falling rapidly, her cheeks a glowing shade of red that seems to spread down her neck and into the fabric of her sweatshirt. She opens her mouth, her breath coming out in short, sharp gasps, and she whispers—"Will you?"

Two simple words. Two simple words that unlock something deep inside you. Something primal. The thing inside each man since the dawn of time that drives them to hunt, kill, fuck like their lives depend on it.

Two simple words that have you leaning in and kissing her again, not just her lips—your mouth traces a fiery path along her jawline, the tender spot behind her ear, down her neck. Each kiss is a promise of what's to come, each nip of your teeth makes her shiver.

Chaewon gasps, her body writhing under your touch, her legs tightening around your waist, desperate and afraid you'll pull away. You don't. Instead, you press into her, feeling the wetness spreading through her shorts, and it takes all your self-control to not rip them off her right there.  

"Bedroom," she manages to get out, a soft, fleeting whimper between kisses, "take me to the—"

You never find out the end of her sentence—twisting her body around, your hands cupping the firm, round globes of her ass, and in a single, swift motion, you lift her higher, throwing her up and over your shoulder.

"Wai—" Chaewon squeals as you hoist her up, her legs dangling in the air, has ass pointing to the sky.

She's giggling again, the sound muffled by the fabric of your sweatshirt, her laughter vibrating through your back as you carry her across the apartment.

"I can't believe you're actually doing this—" she's still giggling, managing to separate herself from your back to chide you,

"—you're so strong it's unfair—",

"—treating me like I weigh nothing—" ,

"—like a caveman—",

"—I'm going to have to tell the others about this—",

"—they won't believe it—",

"—I don't even believe it—",

"—my what a big, strong boyfriend I ha—"

But she's cut off again as you kick open the already ajar bedroom door, the wood slamming against the wall. Before she can realise what's happening you're throwing her onto the bed, her body bouncing once before she lands in a sprawled mess of limbs and exclamations.

"Are you ever going to let me finish a full sen—"

"Chae," her name comes out deeper and gruffer—far more demanding than you intended, cutting off her playful protests in an instant.

For once, Chaewon is paying full attention—no quips, no sarcasm, no laughter to lighten the mood—the room completely quiet except for the sound of her breathing, and even that seems to hush in anticipation of what's to come.

You stand over her, her legs still in the air, her body open and exposed for you—her sweatshirt riding up, revealing the smooth expanse of her stomach, the little mole you've kissed a thousand times just above her navel, her shorts stretched so tightly over her thighs.

It's in the way she's looking at you too—the way she squirms under your gaze, the way she can't help but make her body arch up towards you, pushing out those beautiful, perfect breasts, slightly parting her legs as if inviting you to dive in—wanting you to take her (to fuck her) in all the ways you wanted to but were too afraid to try before—it's all so different, all too much, all so fucking intoxicating.

"You want me to do whatever I want to you?"

Chaewon swallows hard, and nods.

"You want me to take you however I want?"

Another nod, another submission.

You step closer to the bed, your mind completely made up. "Then say it."

Her voice comes out hoarse, a strained whisper. "Take me."

"Again."

She repeats it, this time her words clearer, urgent. "Please—take me."

And with that—her shorts—those tight, far too tiny shorts—become your first victim. There's no time for slow, teasing unbuttoning or the gentle tug of fabric over skin. You're too far gone for that.

So, you rip.

The button pops off with a satisfying ping, and the material gives way, revealing her panties beneath. The sound makes Chaewon gasp, her body shiver.

Hooking your thumbs in the waistband, you drag the shorts down her legs, bringing them gliding over the soft skin of her ass, catching briefly on her thighs before you toss them to the floor.

Her panties are next—white, cotton, and oh-so-innocent looking—the kind tailor-made to be ripped off and left in shreds. But just as your hand reaches the waistband, something holds you back.

A thought—a flicker of doubt—crosses your mind. What if she doesn't like this? What if you're getting caught up and taking things too far? What if she regrets what she's about to let you do to her?

But then, "I'm okay," Chaewon says, reading your hesitation. "Stop thinking like that." Her voice is firm, almost commanding. "I want this."

"Chae—"

"I. Want. This." Chaewon repeats, her voice stronger. “I want it all.”

You trust her—you always will—and so, you nod, understanding the gravity of her words. You lean over her, capturing her gaze, making sure she sees you, really sees you. "Alright, but we need a safe word."

"A safe word." Chaewon echoes, a smile rising on her face, as she realises what a safe word means—what it enables you to do to her.

"If you want me to stop," you say, slowly, like a professor and his star pupil. "Just say..."

"Blueberry," Chaewon interjects, the corner of her mouth curling up into a mischievous smile.

"Blueberry?" It's so unfitting, so fucking adorable, so Chae. "Fine then, if you want me to stop," you begin to explain the rules of the game that you're already starting—kissing down her calf, over her knee, down that gorgeous curve of her inner thigh, until your lips are meeting cotton— "you just say 'blueberry'. As loud as you can, the second you want me to stop. Otherwise, we keep going until I'm satisfied. Got it?"

Chaewon nods eagerly, a little too eagerly, but you don't miss the glint of excitement in her eyes. She's so ready for you, so ready for what's to come next, her body vibrating with anticipation.

"Good."

The single word hangs in the air, a declaration of intent. With it, your hand moves to her panties, the cotton material damp with her arousal. You don't hesitate, you don't play it slow, again—all it takes is your thumb in her waistband and you rip. What were once her panties gives way easily, tearing with a sound that's halfway might as well be a starting pistol, revealing her bare, already glistening, already so wet pussy to the coolness of the room.

But Chaewon's not just lying there waiting for you to make your next move. No, she's not that kind of girl. She's sitting up now, her sweatshirt coming off with a flick of her wrists, the heavy garment flying through the air to land somewhere in the room, forgotten.

Her bra follows suit—quick, efficient, like she couldn't wait another second to be naked for you. Chaewon's breasts bounce free, full and firm and so fucking perfect, rosy tips hard from the cold air or maybe just from the way you're looking at her.

Fuck, the sight of her alone is almost too much. You take a moment, just to breathe her in—to admire the way the light from the bedside lamp casts shadows on her skin, highlighting the curves and valleys of her body. She's a work of art, a masterpiece, and now, she's all yours—every line, every freckle, every goosebump that pops up as the cool air kisses her heated skin.

But you're not here to admire, not now. You're here to give her exactly what she wants, to treat her exactly how she deserves.

You push her back into the bed, your hands on her shoulders, the mattress sinking under your joint weight, and you're kissing her again—no, not kissing, consuming. You kiss her like you're trying to claim her, like you're trying to brand her with your mouth, and she's kissing you back with matched desperation, her nails digging into your skin like she's trying to climb you, to get closer, closer still.

"Mmmm..." Chaewon presses herself up against you—her taut, stiff nipples pushing into your chest, perfect buds squashing themselves against your body, her bare skin gliding over your shirt, her pussy, hot and wet and slippery, working its way over the swell of your sweatpants.

Her hands are everywhere—fumbling with your shirt, running up and down your back, grabbing fistfuls of your hair—and her lips follow, peppering kisses across your cheeks, your jaw, your neck. Her teeth graze the sensitive skin just below your ear, her tongue tracing the shell, her lips whispers sweet—filthy—nothings into your ear.

She dares to move a hand lower, squeezing in some tiny gap between your two bodies, reaching for the waistband of your sweatpants, her fingers teasing the skin just above the elastic.

But you're quicker, catching her wrist, pulling it away with a firm, yet gentle grip.

"No."

You collect her other wrist in the same hand, stretching her arms out and over her head, pushing her down—with your grip, your weight, your hips—keeping her in place, keeping her where you want, paying her back in kind for her earlier “victory”.

"I know what you want," you murmur against her neck. You lean more of your weight into her, your hips pressing down, grinding against her—a slow, deliberate movement, that stains your sweatpants with the juices leaking from her pink, puffy lips.

"Yes," she purrs, "I need you."

"I know," you taunt—another grind, another groan, a deepening stain, "but I need you to want me more."

"I do," she's pleading, begging, "please, I need your cock."

"Not yet," you say, a light chuckle at the whine that escapes her lips. "Not yet."

"But—"

"I am going to fuck you," you say. "Not how you're used to." Her breath hitches, throat swallows—apprehension, arousal, adrenaline—it's all there, playing out on her face like a silent movie. "I'm going to fuck you in every way that I've ever wanted to, in every way I thought you could never handle."

You snake a hand from her waist, drawing a path with your fingertips, running them over her soft, unblemished skin, the ridges of her abs, as you move your hand down, down, until you're right at the juncture of her thighs.

"Ah!" It's the sweetest sound, a high-pitched gasp that turns into a full-throated groan as your index finger breaches her wetness, sliding into the slick, dripping opening of her cleanly shaved cunt—so, so wet—until it's buried knuckle-deep inside her.

Chaewon's back lifts off the bed, her body curving as you slide your finger in and out of her, settling into a steady rhythm. Every movement earns a different, delightful reaction—you trigger your finger: her body shakes, you kiss her neck: she echoes back your name, you add your middle, then your ring finger into her tightness: she falls apart.

"God—gah—" she chokes on whatever noise her mouth is trying to make, her legs spreading wider, hips bucking up to meet your hand, your rhythm. She's beyond soaked; her thighs, her lips, your palm—all drenched in hot, insatiable wetness. "You're so—so fucking good at this."

You add your thumb to the mix, brushing the hood of her clit with the pad; you curl your fingers inside her, finding that spot that makes her crumble.

Her eyes start to close, she’s lost to the sensation, her face contorting in beautiful agony as her walls close around your digits, before you snap her out of it—tightening your grip around her wrists, a slight jolt of pain to force her eyes to meet yours.

"Look at me," you grunt. "Look at me while I fuck you."

Chaewon doesn't dare even blink—she’s so obedient—and the way she's looking up at you now—so willing, so wanting to please, so eager for more—it's bordering on complete worship.

So, you give it to her. You plunge your fingers deeper, twisting and turning, feeling her tighten around you, her wetness coating your hand, the walls of her pussy fluttering with each stroke. You can see it in the redness of her cheeks, the trembling of her thighs, the way her stomach muscles tighten and release—she's close, she’s been so close for far too long.

"Good girl." You kiss her forehead, her nose, her dimples, something sweet amongst the depravity.

"Am I?" Chaewon's question is hopeful, so disastrously erotic, her voice a breathy whisper. There's the beginnings of a storm in her eyes, the first hints painting her features in a way that's so vulnerable, that tells you the only thing holding her back from collapsing is your explicit approval.

"Yes, Chae," you murmur against her ear, nibbling gently, your fingers melting inside her folds. "You're being such a good girl for me."

"Th-thank you," she manages shaky words, barely keeping it together, at the mercy of the quickening of your fingers, the circling of your thumb, the movements of your hand, helping her climb towards that wonderful peak. "Oh my God—how are you—how is this—so—fuck—fuck—"

"Good girls deserve a reward." You're roughly kissing into her collarbone, feeling her pulse hammering under your lips—you want to leave a mark on her body, something for her to remember this by—something to remind her how completely she came apart for you. "Cum for me—cum now—cum on my fingers. Show me how much you want it—how much you love it."

"Please," Chaewon's desperate, so desperate, trying to do something, anything, everything that she can to convince you to let her fall apart. "I love how you touch me—just—please—I’m so close—"

She’s on fire, there’s too much pressure—your fingers work inside her, undoing a knot of their own making—unravelling that slutty ache inside your girlfriend—your good girl—fucking her and stretching her, making her eyes roll to the back of her head and her mouth to drop open in a silent scream.

"So good—so fucking good—just like that—mmmm-MMMPH!"

You breathe it in—your mouth on hers, her cries dying in your throat—feeling her tighten, tense, release around your hand as her small, tight frame—her whole, amazing body—overwhelmed by just three fingers and a thumb.

It takes her like an eruption, a natural disaster—dancing along her skin, to her hips, her thighs, her ribs, her breasts—turning her into a shivering mess, leaving her limp beneath you.

"Fuh—"

You release her lips, watching her pant and quiver, her chest heave, her body spasm from the aftershocks of her climax.

Your hand is drowned in her heat, her juices sticking to your skin as you slowly draw your fingers out of her, glistening in the soft light of the room.

"Here, have a taste." You lift your hand to her face, tracing your sticky fingers along the seam of her mouth, smearing her juices over her soft, parted lips.

Chaewon's tongue darts out, welcoming your digits as you push inside her mouth. She sucks greedily, her tongue lapping your fingertips—she can't get enough of the taste of herself on you.

"Good girl," you say again, and again—she shivers.

The tremors of her orgasm start to fade, and you pull your fingers from her mouth—no longer lathered in her cum, but shiny with her spit.

You straighten, leaning back so you're on your knees, between Chaewon's spread legs. Her eyes follow your hand as it leaves her wrist, traveling up to the neck of your shirt, pulling it off your head and reuniting it with the growing pile of discarded clothing.

Her gaze wanders down, down your body, landing at your waist, at your pants, painfully stretching over your erection.

"Take it out for me, Chae," you instruct, unnecessarily—she's already there, licking her lips, quick at work. Practiced fingers pull down your sweatpants and set your cock free, letting it spring into view, hard and heavy, landing directly on her lips.

But she doesn't get the chance to take it in her mouth, to swirl her tongue around the tip and suck you like she's so clearly been dying to—you have her by the hair before she can dive on your cock, to take it down her throat. It's harsh, it's sudden, it elicits a startled groan from her throat—but it makes it clear that this is not going to be the usual 'good little girl' kind of night.

"No," is all you have for her. You're on the edge—you've been on the edge ever since she pleaded for you—you’re done with the foreplay; you're done with the teasing. Fucking Chaewon senseless. That’s all there is now—fucking her hard and fast.

You pull her up by her hair and your mouth is back on hers, pushing and pulling, tongue in her throat, tasting her—tasting her nectar on her lips—dominating her, her own tongue dancing and wrapping around yours, her teeth grazing your bottom lip.

Your other hand finds its way to her chest, squeezing her breast in your palm, feeling the weight of it, the softness of her skin, the hardened peak of her nipple against your palm. There's not enough time—you want to shove your face between them, taste her nipples, feel them roll between your teeth, give them the attention they deserve.

But instead, you're pulling back on her hair again, gritting your teeth. "Turn around. Bend over."

There's no hesitation, no protest from her—Chaewon's a good girl, and good girls do as they’re told. She rolls onto her hands and knees, her ass in the air—she's presenting herself to you: an offering, a prize, a fucking goddess on a platter. Her spine arches as she looks back at you over her shoulder, the soft curve of her cheeks begging for you to take it.

You startle her, taking her by the hips, pulling her back to you so that when you lean in, your mouth is pressed to her ear, and your cock is twitching against the waiting, wanting, folds of her lower lips. "I'm going to make you feel it," you whisper. "Every part of you, understand?"

Chaewon nods, but it's not enough—not for what you have in store.

"I don't just want a nod, I want to hear you say it. I want you to tell me how good it feels while I'm fucking you—I want to hear it all."

"O-Okay.” She’s tense, you can see it, like a coil winded up in her body, but she's eager, so fucking eager, been waiting for this for far too long—"make me scream for you—FUCK!"

Chaewon's true to her word—she shrieks as you bury yourself deep inside her, is undone by your cock—as ready and wet as she is for you, she's still so incredibly tight, needing you to stretch her, fill her, own her.

But it's not enough—you’re not going to ease her into this, to the pleasure ripping through your bodies, not going to let this moment breathe.

As soon as you've sunk into her, given her every inch that her needy little pussy could take, you're backing up, sliding your stained shaft right out of her cunt before slamming back forward.

She's crying out, making barely intelligible sounds, as you’re digging your fingers into that tiny waist, holding her by her hips as you crash into her, feeling it all—the unfathomable heat, the tightness, the wetness, the way she clenches around you with each thrust—again and again and again.

"Words, Chae," you remind her, needing more from than just the sounds of her sweet, sweet agony, and the slapping of your hips against her ass cheeks. "I want words."

"Y-yes—fuh—fuck—YES!" One-syllable noises are all that Chaewon can manage to start—all you can fuck out of her—but with each thrust, she's getting better, getting bolder. "It feels so good, so hard, so big—God, so deep—you've never—I've never been fucked like this…"

"More." It's addictive, hearing her talk like this, knowing every word that comes out of her mouth is the absolute fucking truth—the proof is in how she's shaking beneath you, how she drips around you, how her fingers claw into the sheets, trying her best to hold on. “Tell me more.”

"Y-you're going so fast—so fucking hard!" Mindless, stream-of-consciousness, fuck-drunk ramblings spill from her lips—she's begging, cooing, whimpering as you mercilessly fuck her, making her divine tits swing below her, her ass ripple with each collision. "Making me so wet—making me so fucking wet—I can't even—can't think straight—just your cock—your fucking cock!"

"This is what you wanted, isn't it Chae?" You hiss, over the sounds of the headboard slamming against the wall, the bed creaking beneath you, and her moans—oh those moans. "This is how I'm going to fuck you from now on—however I want, wherever I want, whenever I want."

"Yes-yes—this is what I want—what I fucking need. To be fucked like this—pounded—broken—so fucking sensitive." The words come so easily from her lips, straight from the pleasure centres of her brains and to your ears. "I deserve this—I've been so good—haven't I? Aren't I your good girl—please tell me I'm your good girl—please?"

"You're my good girl, Chae, you’re my perfect little slut," you acquiesce, and she cries out in relief, her body shaking under the weight of your words—she leans into your touch, your control, your cock. "And good girls get what they fucking deserve."

Another thrust has Chaewon bowing her head down to offer more of herself to you, to give you a better angle to pump her harder, deeper, laying her cheek on the bed and turning her face so you can see that blissful grin on her face, see her lips mouth your name like a prayer.

It's so perfect—she's so fucking perfect—so impossibly tight, a ridiculously wet dream of a cunt—"all yours, all yours"—so aching for you to fuck her straight into the mattress—"I can't take it"—so needy for you—"use me"—so hungry for you—"more—please—I need it."

You're giving in—giving long, intense strokes—you're consumed by it, by her, by how every lovely curve and tensed muscle of her immaculate body is doing its best to take you, to please you, to give you a fraction of the ecstasy that’s breaking her into a million tiny, euphoric pieces.

"God, I love it—love your cock—pounding me—fucking me—hurting me—I can't even think—GOD!" She's doing her best to form coherent sentences, but it's futile, she's slipping—you're not even sure if she's aware of what she's even saying anymore—it's just raw, unfiltered need.

This is going to be a problem—you're never going to be able to go back. Not when she's so needy for you—so needy to be filled by you, so needy to hear your praise as she takes your cock, so full of nothing but words of thanks for how roughly you're treating her, how you're completely ruining her—"thank you—thank you—thank you for fucking me so good."

And then you're falling, a deep, sharp thrust and you’ve sent her forward—her knees give in first, her elbows buckle. She's taking you with her, pulling you by the cock still lodged deep in her cunt. You catch yourself before your face hits the bed, one hand on the mattress, the other still wrapped around her waist.

It does little to slow you down—just gives you a better vantage point to fuck her deeper into the mattress—"yes—yes—fuck—fuck—" —to run your hand up her body and seize her by her tits, so ripe and full and yours to squeeze and twist and tease— "touch me—hurt me—it's all yours—all fucking yours."

And you do—oh, you do—you take her by the tits, feeling the soft flesh of her breasts give way to your grip, roll her nipple between your thumb and forefinger—so sensitive, so responsive. She's lost in it, so happy in the pain and pleasure of your touch—you're leaving another mark—and she cries, she curses, she clenches around you, she joins her hand over yours and pushes you for more, needing more of the loving sting you're giving her.

She’s pulsing on your shaft—walls tightening and quivering—she's so close, so fucking close to cumming—and your body responds, your cock thickens, your strokes powerful, purposeful. "I can't—I can't—baby, please—please—please—"

"You're going to cum for me now, aren't you?" You ask, like it's a question, like you can't see the tension building in her body, can’t see how she's holding her breath and gritting her teeth—it's so fucking obvious she's about to explode.

"Yes—yes—I'm about to—about to—FUCK! I can't fucking take this anymore!"

You take her by the throat—twisting her face so you can see it—you need to see it—need to see the moment she breaks for you. "Look at me," you demand—her eyes rolling up to meet yours, all teary and flawless and beautiful— "look at me when I make you cum."

"God yesssss," Chaewon gurgles, shivers, quakes, "please—please—I'm cumming—I'm cumming— I'm cumming on your fucking cock—OH FUCK!"

Your name leaves her lips in a long, symphonic, slurred cry—and she cums—not in that lovely, beautiful way you've seen her orgasm dozens of times before—this is overpowering, consuming, violent—a million tiny deaths—one magnum opus—sculpted by the Gods and utterly ruined in all ways possible, reduced once again to nothing but a mess of quivers and mewls and moans—pushed over the edge by your cock, forcing her to gush down her thighs.

She's clenching and wringing and doing everything she can to bring you with her—"God—so fucking good—I’m cumming so hard—GOD! I just need—I want it—please give it—give me your cum—fill me with it—do whatever you want to me just give it to me!"

Her eyes are open again—she's inflicted with the same curse as you—she needs to see it, see the look in your eyes as you fill her, finally claim her in her entirety as yours, finally join and become undone in the same preciously brutal ways.

"Keeeep going—cum in me—cum in me—" It’s becoming a mantra now—three short words—as if there was any other option, as if she had any choice. As much as you want to hold on, to drag this out, to savour every second of this chaos—fucking her silly, viciously, tight pussy choking your cock, she won't stop, refuses to— "cum in me—cum in me—cum in me -"

"You want it? You need it? Does your cunt need my cum?"

"Y-yes, please—fuck—fill me up—fuck me up—fill—me—fucking—PLEASE!"

She's a vision, a goddess, she's yours, she's—"Fuck, Chae, god-fucking-take-it!"—she's taking your cum like the fucking slut she is.

God, it feels dizzying, a high so perfect it must be illegal, making your vision dark and your ears ring—the only thing tethering you to the Earth itself is the feeling of her burning hot cunt, the cunt you're fucking like its only purpose in this world is to make your cock feel good.

You’re speeding towards the final stretch now—hard and rough and somehow lasting forever but ending far too soon. Nothing matters except for her exceptionally tight hole, taking you—all of you, everything you have—and you’re clinging onto her—her tits, her throat—you’re bruising and choking her, your body crushing her into the bed, and she's still screaming your fucking name like she's so damn grateful to you for treating her like she deserves.

And then, you let go.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, baby, oh my fucking God," Chaewon groans, "It's so much—you're filling me up— oh, fuck, oh, fuck, OH FUCK!"

It’s a car crash, a pressure valve opening, it’s too fucking much—you can’t hold back—she can’t possibly take anymore.

It burns through you both—the first, the second, the third—rope after rope after rope of cum firing into her sore, well-fucked cunt, filling it completely to the brim. All the lust, all the tension, everything, all at once, released at once in a tidal wave of white into Chaewon's swollen, sopping wet pussy.

“SO GOOD—SO FUCKING FULL!”

One final thrust—one shared cry—like nothing you’ve ever felt before—like you’re being torn apart and reassembled, piece by piece—and you collapse into her, your bodies melting into one— boneless and shaking in the aftermath of it all.

Chaewon’s cumdump of a pussy is still twitching around you—still begging for more, milking your cock even though it’s already given everything it can, every drop it has—making it impossible for you to pull out without feeling like you're leaving a part of yourself behind.

Eventually—when the numbness subsides and you're able to move again—you slide off her, onto your side, slipping your spent cock out of her well-fucked pussy. It's an image that you burn into core of your brain—her ass in the air, your cum dripping from her, the puddle of you leaking from her glistening folds and pooling on your ruined bedsheets.

"So good... so good..." Chaewon's slurring, drifting—fucked out of consciousness—already lost in some blissful, post-orgasmic dream.

That's where you follow her, exhaustion seeping into every bone in your body, and you're slipping down, down and away into that heavenly oblivion.

-

When you awake, Chaewon's curled into you—your chest is her pillow, your arms her blanket. She's still (thankfully) naked—your cum drying on her thighs, and she's awake, lazily drawing circles with her finger around your heartbeat.

"Hey," you say, kissing the top of her head, getting her attention.

She looks up at you—God, she's so fucking beautiful—a soft smile on her lips. "Hi."

"That was..." You dare to start, but the words catch in your throat.

"Perfect," Chaewon finishes for you, "so fucking perfect."

"Are you sure? I got lost in the moment there, Chae, I—" The ghost of an apology is on your lips, but Chaewon's eyes widen, and she slaps a hand over your mouth.

"Don't," Chaewon stops you, "don't ruin it with an apology. I wanted that. Needed it. More than I thought, I guess. It was amazing."

You look down at her, so small in your arms, searching her face for any hint of doubt or regret, but all you can find is perfect contentment.

And she's smiling, so sweetly, so happily. So Chaewon. The slutty cum dumpster, the adorable princess—the woman of your dreams.

She’s giggling still, tracing wider patterns on your chest, her breath warm against your skin. "You were incredible," she presses her nose into your neck and inhales deeply. "I never knew you had that in you."

"I didn't either," you admit, stroking her hair, looping strands between your fingers. "I had no idea how much I'd like it—how good it would feel. I mean I love getting to hold you like this—hugging you and kissing you, but—"

"It's nice to not have to treat me like I'm made of glass, isn't it?" She finishes. A beat passes, before Chaewon tables her final request. "You know, that thing you called me, while we were..."

Her voice trails off, and she's blushing now—the kind of blush that makes you want to kiss her, kiss it off her cheeks, kiss her until she's blushing all over again. "I think I called you a lot of things that probably shouldn't be repeated outside of this room." You say, and she’s laughing, slapping your chest lightly.

"You know what I'm talking about," she says. "Call me it again. Please? Can you?"

You laugh, bending down so you can steal a kiss—as light and sweet as she is—but it’s still far, far shorter than you'd like.

She's pouting, doe-eyes wide and hopeful—so Goddamn adorable—and you can't resist, after all—it's always best to give your girlfriend exactly what she wants.

"My good girl," you murmur into her ear, "my perfect little slut."

[roanniom]

Let Them Know

Eddie Munson x fem!reader

18+ Only, smut, PIV, consensual spanking

“The fucking window is open, Eddie,” you whisper urgently, cutting off your own previously loud moan.

Eddie’s got you on your back, legs up and over his shoulders as he thrusts into you. The hand supporting himself has one of your flailing arms trapped against the couch cushion while his other hand has found its way between your bodies, playing mercilessly with your clit.

“Yeah? So?” he grunts.

“So - fuck me!” you gasp when he reverses the swirl of his finger just as he ads a teasing swirl to the motion of his hips.

“That’s what I’m doing, princess,” Eddie responds roguishly. He leans down to give you the most lascivious open mouthed kiss. His entire body weight rests on your arm in the process, making it start to go numb, but you don’t care. You surrender to the kiss, happy to receive his plundering tongue. When he pulls away you whine.

“Turn around.”

It’s gruff. A command. You scramble to your shaky knees and before you can even finish a full rotation you feel Eddie grabbing your hips and pressing his thick cock back inside you. Deep.

“Ohhhhh.”

“Yeah? That feel good, baby?”

You melt, like you always do when he calls you baby, dropping to your forearms.

“Yes, it feels so fucking—.”

You bite your own lip when you hear voices through the open window. People passing by, thus far oblivious to the debauchery occurring on your couch.

Slap.

“Eddie!” you gasp as the feeling of the spank radiates on your ass, although your back arches and you press back into him like you always do.

“That’s right. Let them know who’s fucking you so good.”

“Mmmm,” you whimper quietly, shifting around to try and entice him to spank you again.

Suddenly his whole body is over yours, his mouth by your ear.

“I know what you want, baby. You’re a bad girl who wants to be spanked real good. But you’re not gonna get it if you don’t let me hear you.”

“Eddie…” you whisper. He reaches back and taps your ass, but so lightly you squirm at the lack of pressure.

“Louder.”

“Eddie.” You say it more forcefully this time, so he taps you again. This time with a liiiiittle more force but definitely not enough.

“You can do better for me, baby. Do it.”

This whole time he’s had you pressed down into the couch, cock buried deep inside you. You can feel it pulse greedily with enjoyment over your squirms and whimpers. It’s all too stimulating. Too hot. Too delicious.

You need more.

“Eddie! Fuck me! Please!”

SLAP.

The spank that lands on your ass is resounding, and definitely recognizable when paired with your breathy cries. You hear laughter outside the open window but you’re beyond caring at this point, because Eddie’s found a rhythm.

“Oh my fucking god,” you moan out. Eddie groans.

“That’s it. There’s my girl.”

He props himself up with one hand planted next to your face and the other finding your clit again. The pressure inside you intensifies immediately. Your eyes shoot open wide.

“Oh fuck. I’m…I’m gonna…”

“What’s that? You’re gonna cum already?” The glee in his voice in palpable. His finger swirls faster and faster and he grunts when he feels how close you are. “I can feel you getting tighter. You wanna cum for me, baby?”

“I wanna cum for you, Eddie. Wanna - fuck! Sooodeep. Wanna cum for you so bad.” You babble, dropping face down, ass up, hardly able to receive the pleasure he’s thrusting into you.

“Holy shit,” Eddie groans. He pulls his hand away from your clit long enough to spank you again, just to hear you squeal and feel you spasm around him. “Feel me getting harder? You’re gonna make me cum too.”

“Please!” you whine, practically incoherent.

“You want that? Want me to cum deep inside you, baby?” You can hear how gone he is in the amount of gravel in his voice. You’ve never been happier to be on the pill as you nod fervently against the sheets.

“Wanna feel you, Eds. Wanna cum with you.”

You’re right on the edge. And so, it turns out, is he.

Eddie lets out a shuddering gasp as he pumps into you, hot sticky cum flowing just as you spasm around him in a mind numbing orgasm.

Every muscle in your body seizes up as the pleasure ripples through you. Then everything relaxes. You fall limp and boneless, pressed deeper into the cushions by Eddie’s similarly limp body.

An aftershock reverberates through you and Eddie chuckles in your ear.

“I love these little shakes afterwards that you can’t help.”

“I can’t help it,” you insist, doing your best to turn in his arms to face him. “You fucked me good.”

“Yeah?” Eddie asks, dominance fading into sweet bashfulness in the afterglow of your shared pleasure. You love the duality. You love him.

“Yeah.”

You crane your neck to kiss him. His hand cups the side of your jaw almost reverently.

And then—

“Close the fucking window next time, freaks!” Steve Harrington calls out loud and clear, Robin laughing hysterically in the background.

~*~

Thank you for reading! I think this is the first thing I’ve written in over six months?? Wild.

[peachesofteal]

I blame @alwaysshallow but-

Simon Riley’s back is fucked. That’s an understatement. Between work and the weight he’s carrying around, his spine weeps at night when he goes to lay down. Twisting and crouching and crawling only increase the strain, the twinges between muscle and bone blooming into a full grown ache. Those threadbare shit mattresses they always seem to find, awful. By the time he gets back to base, he’s already been popping paracetamol from morning to night, his jaw so tight he’s got a permanent headache.

Physio is a necessity. When he was a younger man it was easier to blow the whole thing off, swallow it down with too many glasses of bourbon, but now if he doesn’t go within a day or two after landing back at base, he’s miserable.

However, there’s a problem.

It’s you.

Simon’s not really sure about you. Sweet as a lolly, but incredibly jumpy, your hands shake before you really get started, carefully tracing over his back, feeling for knots and strains.

“H-hi Lieutenant Riley.” He grunts his acknowledgment, stripping off his shirt and assuming the position across the table, face down, arms to his sides. “Okay, straight to it, I guess.” He should say something, but doesn’t. He doesn’t mind letting you wallow in your discomfort. If he’s being truthful with himself, he enjoys your nerves.

Your fingers are deft, pinpointed pressure alleviating the agony splintered across his back. You’re polite as a nun, letting him know where you’re going beforehand, giving him time to prepare to feel your touch.

“I’m going to try to adjust this tension in your lower back now.”

“I’m going to press on the sciatic nerve.”

“You’ll feel my palms on your shoulders.”

It’s kind of you, considerate, even though every time you step away from the table he catches the anxious look on your face, brows knitted together, lip tucked between your teeth.

At the end of his session today, you swallow and start babbling, hopeful look on your face. “Hey, I’ve just learned these new massage techniques, by the way. I’ve been practicing and was wondering if you’d be interested? Really should loosen up the last of these muscles. I’m pretty new at it, but was hoping-“

“No.” He snaps, and your face falls for a second before you catch it, and nod.

“Sure, of course. Sorry Lieutenant Riley.” You step away, professional smile back in its place, and gesture to his shirt. “I’ll just let you…” He sits up, fully, but your eyes don’t stray. “Alright, well, see you next time.”

The next time he’s in to visit you, you’re not outside your office to greet him as usual. He frowns, not enjoying the change in your routine, forcing him to knock on your door and wait for an answer.

When someone else answers the door, something weird happens to his stomach, some sort of phantom pain, and his skin starts to itch.

“Who are you?” He barks, and the man narrows his eyes.

“I’m filling in, your usual therapist is out today.”

“Out? Out where?”

“They didn’t say.” Where the fuck are you? He turns on his heel, striding out of medical, ignoring the questions lobbed at his back.

“Lieutenant Riley?” You’re trembling in your doorway, fingers wrapped around the door handle. “W-what are you doing here?”

“You weren’t at therapy.” You’re just standing there, confused.

“I… I know. I’m not feelin’ well.” An unbearable drum starts beating in his chest, so loud it throbs in his ears.

“Step aside.”

“Wha-“ you’re cut off as he brushes by, hooking an arm around your waist and dragging you along by his hip. Herding. Instinct. “What’re you doing?!”

“Hush.” The door shuts behind him, the finality of the click deafening. “Need someone to take care of you, don’t ya? Can’t seem to do it yourself.” Your mouth drops open, and he smiles to himself.

“Lieutenant, that’s… thank you, but I’m fine, really.” His hands rest on your shoulders.

“Don’t think so pet.”

[goldenstring6123]

a quickie request LISTEN LISTEN HEAR ME OUT…… sylus fingering reader so so so hard and fast with his long ass fingers and you’re arching up in pleasure and he’s breathing into your mouth, hard against your thigh….. 🌚 (sometimes my own thoughts remind me i have no shame 🙏)

Sylus: Putting you to sleep

Warning: 2.3k word Smut, 18+ only! MDNI, AFAB!reader, reader may or may not be the mc, Fingering, Nipple play, slight begging, quickies (?)

Author's note: hehe, this ain't a full blown sex yet but here ya go!

"How long do you plan on staring, sweetie?" the tall silver-haired man lowered his balled fists to his hips, promptly turning towards your figure, which leaned by the doorpost. You dawned on messy hair, a tight black undershirt, and night shorts. It took him no less than a second to piece that you just woke up.

"Couldn't sleep." You stated.

Sylus shifted his weight to the other leg. "Would you like me to do something about it?" sincerely, he offered, yet his ruby red eyes flickering with roguish intent.

"Is there anything you can do?" You can't help but ask. With Sylus offering to aid your sleepless fatigue a million thoughts raced through your mind. He could knock you out to sleep, or maybe he'll ask you to spar with him. Whatever it was, you were ready to turn him down.

"Of course. What kind of lover would I be?" He took his sweet time undoing his wrist wrap; meanwhile, you took your sweet and ample time to approach the boxing ring. Everything else was by far dim apart from that platform.

It was silent. Any sound echoed in the combat room, reverberating against the metal posts and cement walls. It was 2 am, and not a single soul was in sight. You weren't sure if you were scared that you were both alone or at peace because Sylus was with you.

He took off his black undershirt and threw it aside shortly after; he hopped down with a large thud and stood before you, his broad figure looming ominously.

"Sylus?" you called. He moved his hand and flicked his fingers behind you. The only source of light that made you see is now gone. A few seconds more, as you feel Sylus' hands slither around your exposed waist, a silver moonlight peering through the windows turning red.

You wanted to say something, but you dared not do it.

His touch was warm as it dragged against your skin, leaving a stinging heat in its wake. Soon enough, another hand landed on your body and thighs, gliding like paper. Softly, Sylus' fingers traversed the top of your thighs, sliding lower and lower until he grasped the underside of your thigh.

Sylus yanked you closer, your thigh upwards. A muffled gasp erupted from your lips the moment your chest pressed against his torso. The heat that emanated from his body made yours tingle, yet to the touch, it was wet and slippery from the sweat of his workout.

"You're unusually quiet," He whispered against your ear. His teeth nibbled the lobe of your ears. A shiver traveled down your spine, sensitivity only then being realized. You didn't want to reply. You were on a thin thread between tiredness and lasciviousness; you no longer had the energy to deal with other feelings.

Once in a while, it was all right to let Sylus take the lead.

He grinded his body against yours, rubbing every surface of your body. The thin strap of your undershirt falls down to your shoulder as if taunting your partner to pull it off further. Sylus could feel your breasts against his abdomen. Supple and soft, your nipples slowly work themselves against the cloth.

You heard shifting from around you, and you could hear the clothes and cushions gather near your footing. Sylus buried his nose in the crook of your neck, placing a wet kiss near your collarbone. He pushed you back, and you fell onto the soft mattress and fabric. Sylus knelt in between your parted legs, one hand on your knee and one on the side near your waist.

Your chest heaved up and down, cleavage well exposed as your undershirt became more and more rumpled against your body. Your stomach was exposed, and your shorts were rendered practically useless with how you felt, as if you had nothing on. You couldn't help but blame it on your lover as well, his glowing eyes staring at every crevice of your body as he methodically planned on how to devour you.

Sylus didn't want to waste any more time. He took advantage of your parted lips and crashed it against his own. His tongue asked no permission and entered your mouth, the sluggish muscle probing, prodding against your tongue. He tasted like wine. You were intoxicated. He needed to explore you again. As if it was his first time. Grunts escaped his mouth, reverberating as he savored the taste of you.

Your chest burned. It yearned for air, yet the depraving sensation sent your body on edge, sending pulses to your very core. You let out moans as Sylus parted his lips from yours. His hands were back to where it was: on your body. Teasingly, his long fingers slid under the stretchy cloth of your cloth.

He was taking his sweet time. But you were impatient.

You hurriedly lifted your undershirt over your chest, the chilly yet dry air finally blowing on your breasts. You grabbed your lover's big hand and guided it to your left breast, the thing fitting in his grasp all too well. You could see him smile even in the dark. "Don't tease," you demanded.

His hands began to work, to knead. Sylus basked at the feeling of your lithe tits. He brought his mouth lower and lower through the sloppy and wet kisses, from your collarbone to your cleavage, and in one second, he suckled on your breast.

"haah…" You let out, arching your back at the electrifying cold of his tongue against your perked nipple. His tongue flicked up and down, threading lightly on your sensitive tip before sucking. That was enough to make you elicit another moan.

His spare hand traveled lower and lower, this time slipping underneath the garter of your shorts. He used his EVOL again, and the piece of apparel slipped off in one swift motion, leaving you in your underwear.

Two fingers danced on top of your lingerie, circling your pelvis before languidly trailing lower, just above your clit. "Hng…" you could feel the finger brush past it, pressing your entrance lightly through the cloth. "Why do you…Ah—" He flicked at your clit and nibbled at your nipple. "—Keep on teasing?"

He hummed, offering no form of response. His two fingers finally showed some generosity, fully pushing against your clit while ever so slightly rubbing left and right. Your muscles tensed every time he rubbed; you couldn't help but puff out your chest as well, feeding it onto his mouth more.

The rubbing turned circular, fast, rushed, meant to make you nearly scream from the electrical bolts of pressure that traversed from your pussy, down to your legs, up to your breasts, and to your neck. You were trying your best to keep still, but with Sylus playing with you, it seemed like a farfetched goal. "Ah…Mhn!" He pulled his finger away and tore off the last remaining cloth that covered your lower parts.

You felt his fingers glide up and down the inside of your folds, brushing lightly on your entrance while also hitting your clit. He was doing it lightly to slather your own slick across your cunt and let a thick coat of slimy translucent liquid form a thin sheet over it.

You twitched at every sensation— Sylus had always been good with his hands. Be it with a weapon or with you. His long fingers can make you heed his command; at times like these, you let yourself submit. Then, without warning, Sylus slipped his middle finger in your hole, burying it until his knuckles touched your entrance.

"AH?!" Long. His fingers were fucking long!

In some sort of way, when he pierced inside you, it rubbed your g spot, which made you arch your back once more. The finger inside you curled up, pressing against that overly tender and hot walls of flesh that hugged it tightly. Your lover was generous enough to start with shallow thrusts. Yet, you could still hear the crude, squelching noises. As a few seconds pass, his light, shallow thrusts become more and more aggressive, pulling in and out, stretching the ring of your entrance.

Mewls and moans escaped your throat no matter how hard you tried to swallow it in. It did not help that the sounds you were making echoed around the training room, making you hear how you sounded.

Another finger slipped in, and that's when you felt the stretch. Sylus' finger moved in sync, hooking onto that one sport that made you tremble. He scissored his fingers and opened them wide, stretching you out too. The palm of his hand slaps against your skin, imitating a weak slapping sound, yet with it comes the squelch of your juices, overflowing out of your womanhood and trickling down to the mattress.

You gripped the cloth and cushion, hoping it could anchor you down, and it did its job somehow. Waves of pleasure overcame you as he continued to thrust, occasionally rubbing your clit with his thumb. You twisted and turned, even threatening to close your thighs at the sheer pleasure, but Sylus wouldn't let you.

He kissed you in between actions, muffling out your cries and slipping in his tongue without consideration. You were on the verge of your own sanity, the only sensation left being the quick pooling of pleasure at the bottom of your stomach. You were nowhere near your climax when he pulled out of you quickly.

"No! Sylus!" You cried, pushing yourself up to look at him. Under the red light, you saw him move his hand again, and you were suddenly enveloped by the dark mist of his evil, pulling you up and settling you on Sylus's lap.

You rested your arms on his broad shoulders, placing your weight on your knees, which were spread to his side. Slowly, the discharge in your pussy began to trickle down your thigh as nothing was plugging it up.

"Sylus—fingers." You demanded, biting his ear. He happily obliged with your requests, and soon enough, three fingers were pumping up your hole. His movements were erratic, switching between shallow and deep thrusts while simultaneously applying pressure on the tip of his fingers against your G-spot.

Your body twitched, and your eyes watered. To hide your scandalous moans, you kissed Sylus over and over again, him breathing into your mouth as you cried out his name. You could feel his Cock tight against his boxing shorts, yet you didn't want to take it out.

You were more than sure that you couldn't take it. With the state of your body and what your lover was doing to you, you were going to pass out the moment you hit your peak.

Sylus wasn't slowing down. Rougher and rougher, his hands worked with a rigorous desire to help you come. His whole hand was slathered with your juices, his ears filled with your delightful moans, which you failed to hide. His mouth sucked on your breasts, and his nose savored the raw scent of your body. Sylus never gets enough of these, and as much as he would've wanted to pound into it, he was too entranced by the moment.

The tips of your fingers began to heat up, your muscles turning tense as a cold sweat scattered through the back of your neck. Hurriedly, the pleasure pooled in your stomach overwhelmed you, filling you up and churning your core, "Sylus…" You called, almost begging. "I'm close….Mhng!" You throw your head forward, your mouth against his ear, as you no longer hold back your cries of pleasure.

"Ah! Ahnm! Hnng!" You let out.

You felt his thumb rub your clit again, and you bucked your hips forward, his fingers ramming your beloved spot roughly, repeatedly, torturously. You feel yourself well up, the heat in your stomach growing larger and larger the more Sylus rubs your clit. "Sylus…Sylus, Please, Sylus— I'm almost there!" You grabbed onto his hair for dear life, yanking it back before sloppily kissing him.

An electrifying ripple bloomed out from your pussy, making your lower region jolt at his continuous movements. You throw your head back and let out a scream laced with pleasure and desire— You can only see white as your insides throb, clutching onto the fingers that made you feel full.

God, that felt fucking amazing.

As you savored the high of your orgasm, Sylus looked up at you as he pressed his own face against your breast, marveling at the sight of you reaching your peak, reveling the loud and unconcealable thumps of your chest. He kissed your breasts and then your heart, slowly supporting your weight as you come down from your high.

He laid you down on the mattress ever so gently, brushing the sweat-riddled hair that stuck onto your face. Your eyes can't help but flutter shut, still savoring the last remnants of your orgasm. Tiredness washed over your body like the sea crashing onto the shoreline; with it, it brought relaxation and ease.

"Thank you," you whisper as you finally fall asleep.

Using his EVOL for the last time, Sylus gathered the clothes scattered around you and chucked them with his own. His towel from the wooden benches floated, promptly spreading and covering your exposed body. He picked you up, disregarding his own stiff manhood tucked in his pants.

He can deal with that later. For now, he should bring you back to your room and clean you up. The last thing he wants is for you to get sick.

Of course, Sylus didn't do this for free. He never does anything for free. You'd be a fool if you think he did.

Whether you know it or not, he'll make you compensate, and just your luck: he's getting up early tomorrow and more than eager to hear your cries again in the morning.

Author footnotes: With the amount of Sylus smut that I read, I wanted to write him without speaking much, y'know? just focusing on you and not coming up with witty replies to every word you say.Layout by me, using canva premium | Do not repost | Dividers by cafekitsune & me!

[multific]

In Sickness and In Health

Paul Atreides x Reader

Summary: Paul fears leaving you while you are sick.

Paul hated to leave you alone, especially since you haven't been feeling so well lately.

Paul knew he needed to go with his father, but he didn't want to.

"I will take care of her." his mother tried her best to reassure him, but Paul was worried.

The love of his life, his beautiful wife has been forced to bedrest for the last few days.

The doctors examined you and determined that you had a simple illness.

A simple one, yet you suffered greatly because of it.

You had a high fever, you could barely eat and sleep was a difficult task.

You were separated from Paul the second day of your illness, now, he was only allowed to visit you.

He was kind enough to bring you books or read you some of his own.

"You must go, Paul, your father expects you to."

"I do not care. I don't wish to leave you alone."

"I understand, but I will be fine, I do feel better already, so please, don't worry too much."

"My mother said she will visit you often," he said as his grip tightened around the book he was reading to you. "I still don't want to leave you." he promised to be by your side, in sickness and in health.

"I will be fine." you said with a smile. Your smile made him believe that it might be all fine after all.

Yet, his worry never left him.

The next day, he left with his father.

Lady Jessica kept her promise and visited as often as she could.

You even started conversations with her. And she did enjoy talking about Paul when he was young.

Then, she even mentioned her marriage, and how she wished you and Paul wouldn't have to face the same or similar difficulties.

The week soon passed, and you were much better as you awaited Paul's return.

And soon enough, you were told that he was landing.

You rushed over, by the time you got there Paul was already off the ship, making his way to you.

"Paul!" you smiled as you slowly jogged over to him, he fully started running.

You opened your arms and wrapped them around him as he lifted you off the ground. You giggled into his ear.

"I'm so happy to see you." he said. "You look so much better."

"Your mother gave me a special tea, it truly helped," you said as he finally put you down on the ground and kissed you.

"I missed you so much." he said and you laughed a little.

"I missed you, Paul."

Paul never felt so relieved in his entire life. He was worried about coming back, so when he saw you, full of life and smiles, running over to him, the weight from his shoulders just disappeared.

All his worries left his body in a matter of seconds.

He held onto you tight and strong, afraid to let you leave his sight as he watched your face, full of life, your eyes, filled with love as you looked at him.

Not even in his best dreams did he ever imagine coming back home and finding you like this.

He was forever grateful for his mother for healing you.

He made a vow to never leave your side ever again, and it is a promise Paul intends to keep for the rest of his life.

Taglist: @castellandiangelo @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl @manduse @jacalineiscomingforyou @mandoloriancookie @brascaris @il0vebeingdelulu @deliciousfestsalad @groovyqueer

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

/YOU DO NOT HAVE PERMISSION TO TRANSLATE OR REUPLOAD ANY OF MY WORKS TO THIS OR OTHER PLATFORMS/

[lokisgoodgirl]

The Urge [Loki x Fem. Reader]

A link to my (new) Masterlist is HERE Summary: [Oneshot] Loki's lack of magical contraception yields unexpected results. Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI. Breeding kink. Smut. Language. Dirty talk. (w/ 1.8k)

"I can smell you." You stopped rinsing dishes, wiping your palms on your leggings before turning off the tap. He’s home early, you thought with mild interest. “What?! Two seconds...” you called. The sound of Loki dropping his keys into the dish by the door rattled. Metal on porcelain. You turned towards the noise, jumping as your husband’s broad shoulders suddenly filled the open kitchen doorway. “I said... I can smell you.” he repeated darkly, leaning against the frame.

Loki’s pupils were dilated, only a sliver of electric blue visible at the furthest rims. You ran your hands up the sharp angle of his jawline, trying to coax a smile. “Well I haven’t showered since last night but I didn’t think it was that -oh!” Loki stooped, hoisting your ass-cheeks with his huge palms. Your legs instinctively cinched around his hips, clinging on. It was a long drop to the floor. “I mean what’s between your thighs, wife.” he hummed menacingly. “You’re ripe.” Heat flushed your cheeks, a thrill thundering to the lowest centre of your sex. It was happening. “Are you sure you’re ready for the weight of my full load?” he snarled against the shell of your ear, the meaning in his words abundantly clear. You shivered. Loki had lifted the enchantment impeding his ability to impregnate you, and it had...side effects. “It will be four times what I usually spend inside that tight little slit of yours. I hope you can take it.” he murmured under his breath as he paced in long strides to the bedroom. He lowered you to the bed. You scrambled back on the mattress, running your eyes hungrily up his triangular torso. “And I hope you can keep it.” he spat, roughly yanking the knot in his tie. Loki had warned you that the tidal wave of god-level hormones would make him a little strange. A little less...sentimental. But even he wasn’t aware just how animalistic he would become in his mission to give you what you desired. What you both desired. He stripped the black suit jacket from his shoulders, unbuttoning the dark shirt slowly as he tilted his head. His gaze stalked over your body, breathless and flushed. He was hard already, his thick cock snaking down his thigh against the tight cotton. “How am I to make you fat with my offspring if you do not remove your clothes?” There was a venom in his voice that made you clench. “Oh, right- sorry.” you mumbled, tugging off your stained t-shirt. You lifted your hips, fumbling the waistband down. “Too long.” he scoffed impatiently, before leaning and grabbing the lowered nylon crotch. In one swift movement, the leggings ripped at the seams, half of the pair landing on the bed-knob. Your husband's stare smouldered with barbarism, his deep love hibernating as primal urges came to the fore. Loki ripped the belt from his hips, the coil of leather falling discarded with a loud crack to the floor.

You shuffled backwards on the martial bed as he unzipped his trousers, the perfect cock that had made love to you thousands of times looking different somehow. Harder? Bigger? you thought frantically, feeling your breath catch in your throat as his naked body descended. Loki’s hair fell wild around his collarbone, eyes narrowing as he tilted his chin to his chest. That smouldering gaze never left your own. “Don’t be afraid, darling." Loki nudged your knees apart gruffly. “You are worthy of breeding with a god, you should be grateful.” He wrapped his long fingers around your delicate wrists. “And I intend to thoroughly breed you tonight, pup. You can be sure of that.” You could feel the swollen tip of his manhood sliding against your entrance, the sticky mess of ovulation grasping against pre-cum gathered at the head. “Oh-my-g-god…” you gasped, unable to form proper words. You had never been more turned on in your life.

“That’s it. Praise me, little one.” Loki purred, before a long inhale made his eyes flutter closed in lust-drunk anticipation. “Such a well-bred cunt you have...” he hummed appreciatively, before licking a trail from your collarbone to your mouth. “Perfect for a god’s seed...” he rasped, releasing one wrist to palm the nearest breast upward. “... perfect for soaking in what I have to give.” he continued lazily. Loki nuzzled against your ear as his grip returned to the free wrist strewn above your head. “My prize breeding bitch.” You arched your back, feeling your pussy gape against the throbbing cock nestled tauntingly between your folds. Ready to burst. He released a ragged moan against your ear, pulsing between your open thighs. “I can’t keep myself out much longer, I can’t resist you like this – you have one final chance to stop before I fill you.” he panted quietly, a semblance of familiarity cracking through feral domination. You shook your head, murmurs of don’t stop passing your lips as a cruel smirk stretched his own. He snarled, mouth falling open as his wide tip squeezed past the tight opening. Loki swallowed, the veins in his neck straining. “Prepare for everyone in nine realms to know you have been fucked into this pathetic state.” he growled ceremonially. He bottomed out with a staggered groan as his grip on your wrists tightened. “And fucked by whom.” You squirmed beneath him, rocking your hips into the curves of his enormous muscular thighs. Waves of bliss soared as he grunted with every slow thrust, devastatingly measured. “Tell me I’m your slut, Loki-” you mewled, whining as he pressed the backs of your thighs mercilessly towards your ears. Loki's eyes fell to the sight of his glistening cock sinking into your swollen pussy, juices already leaking around the mess of twin flesh. He grit his teeth, curls swinging around his jaw as he watched himself disappear repeatedly into your ripe heat. “Remember who it is you have sheathed in your cunt, little one.” he grunted, balls slapping. “I only fuck my slut, I don’t breed her.” You whimpered, lost in a haze of unadulterated eroticism. It was filth. His voice. His hands. His cock. His words. “You’re so fucking t-tight.” he gasped, releasing a rasping moan that shook the Asgardian trinkets on the side-table. “I’m going to pound you so full of my...uhhh- sacred c-cum that you’ll be dripping from that pretty m-mouth.”

Your husband's voice vibrated around the apartment, the timbre so low you were sure it would sink through the floorboards. He was unhinged, the grip around your calves making halos of lightened skin appear beneath the dent of his fingertips. “Don’t-don’t stop...Loki” you gasped, frozen in place by his weight. The god snarled, his upper lip disappearing as his eyes flashed. “I said I would breed you, and I intend to.” he spat, suddenly pulling your wrists and flipping you to all fours. His slippery cock popped from your hole with a squelch as your palms hit the mattress. In a flash, long fingers grasped the nooks of your hips, sinking himself possessively back inside. The two of your groaned in unison as your ass hit the flat of his stomach.

“The way that ripe pussy is desperate to milk me, I won’t last…” he fawned, before placing a tight slap against your ass. “But then, pleasure is not the order of business. Not your pleasure, anyway..” The god muttered darkly under his breath, rhythmically pulling you tight against the base of his shaft before pushing you forwards. The fingers against your flesh would leave bruises. Animalistic grunts clouded the air like smoke as he railed into you like the beat of a drum. You could feel the veins in his cock swell. They pulsed, his body gearing to give you what you craved. Loki’s thrusts were becoming sloppy, erratic breaths scorching the air as he lost himself in the mission. Lost himself in the urge. Whines of his name leaked from your throat, your cheek lowering to the mattress- ass in the air like a bitch in heat. Loki’s hips juddered, the slap of his tight balls against your clit making you want to scream. And then you screamed. Loki chuckled, a choked laugh between stuttering, messy pumps. “That’s it. That’s.it - my breeding mare, taking the mount of your s-stallion as he fucks you full- f-f-fuck-” You and he moaned in unison, rising orgasm shuddering your bodies as Loki’s stomach folded against your back. You could feel the condensation of primal need on your neck from his breath, his cock tugging inside your needy pussy with shallow thrusts as he came undone. He needed this. He needed it just as much as you did. “Fill me p-prince- yes, give it...fucking give it to me-” you thundered. Your hips thrashed as you shoved you ass back to keep his cock steady against your wet centre. “All of it?” Loki choked, planting another smack on your ass with a broken moan. “Every fucking d-drop…” you managed through a strangled cry. The god roared behind you. You could feel thick cream spurt against clenching walls, hot seed sloshing and rising inside the deepest part of you. Loki's firm chest curled against your spine, hair sticking to the sweat gathered on your back. His hips juddered as he emptied himself inside your messy, fertile heat. Every drop. You could sense the clench of his perfect ass as he pumped several more times, milking himself in the slop of his own seed. Dwindling ragged grunts peppered the air, the tender slide of his palms over the curve of your ass telling you that his work was done.

“Stay still.” he murmured, carefully drawing himself from between your legs. Wet slurps filled the air, the light touch of his fingers grazing against your dripping slit. Inspecting. “Turn over-” he said gently, as if to a patient; “-slowly.” he added, before guiding you on your back. There was a broad smile on his face. “Legs up.” he quipped, still kneeling. You rolled your eyes playfully, manoeuvring your crossed ankles to rest on the curve of his neck. “I love you.” he said tentatively, placing a deep kiss on the calf to his side. A blissed-out smile fluttered on your lips. “I love you too.” you replied, reaching for his hand. Loki squeezed. “Based on that performance, we should probably make the most of the next few days.” you sighed, resting back against the pillow. Loki scoffed. “Have you so little faith in my ability to-” He trailed off, seeing the twitch of your eyebrow. “Oh.” he smouldered, pushing his hair back with a conspiratorial smile. “Yes. Indeed, darling. Very wise.” He placed another kiss on your ankle, the tip of his nose inhaling seductively down your calf as his words made you shiver with anticipation. “Better safe than sorry.” he whispered darkly against your skin.

Tags @gigglingtigger @meowmeow-motherfucker @muddyorbsblr @imalovernotahater @avengersalways @littledark11 @lokikissesmyforehead @simplyholl @fictive-sl0th @thedistractedagglomeration @loveroflokiforpoeticjustice @coldnique @jaidenhawke @silverfire475 @vbecker10 @imalovernotahater @thomase1 @morriggannlostinfandoms @marygoddessofmischief @sebstanwhore @xorpsbane @peacefulpianist @maple-seed @yelkmelk @wheredafandomat @mistress-ofmagic @infinitystoner @goblingirlsarah @ozymdias @peaches1958 @your-taste-on-my-lips @lokidokieokie @kikster606 @peachyjinx @tbhiddlestan83 @trickster-maiden @skymoonandstardust @justjoanne242 @sidepartskinnyjeans @ladyofthestayingpower @wolfmoonmusic @brittbax @smolvenger @lunarnights95 @superficialdomina @kaleenjackson @fictional-hooman @psychospore @littlespaceyelf

[lightsoutletsgo]

girl dad — mv.1

pairing: dad!max verstappen x mom!reader

word count: 2.5k

warnings: mentions of pregnancy, obvs mentions of babies and kids, fluff, the briefest flash of angst and nostalgia hi loves! so this is the result of the absolute brainrot me and @verstappen-cult got stuck in yesterday discussing how max is such a girl dad. I actually really like this one so I hope you like it too! as always please leave any feedback, I always love reading the tags to find out how I can improve my work and what you want to see more of! happy reading! mimi 🤍

Max groaned softly as a heavy weight suddenly landed on his chest. He opened his eyes and saw a perfect reflection of them staring back at him. He couldn’t stop the smile spreading across his face as his arms wrapped around his daughter and he cuddled her close to him, “Good morning little flower,” his voice was gentle and low so as to not wake you up, “did you have exciting dreams last night?” His hand smoothed over Esmee’s hair as she nodded, arm wrapping round her soft plush bunny even tighter as she curled up on his chest. “Well I’m glad to hear that…” They were both still and silent for a moment and Max thought she may have even drifted back off, until she popped up, sitting on his tummy, her hand bringing her bunny’s ear up to her face to gently rub it across her cheek in a soothing motion. Max’s heart clenched as he stared at his baby girl, where was the time going? Just yesterday it seemed like she was still a tiny newborn that he cradled so carefully yet awkwardly. 

“Mama sleep?” The two year old pointed to you lying next to him, your head resting against his shoulder as your chest rose and fell steadily. Max nodded and over exaggerated placing a finger to his lips in a ‘shh’ motion. The toddler giggled, a sweet sound that made Max smile. Max looked at the clock that sat on his bedside table and noticed how early it was and how dark it still was outside, “It’s so early flower! The sun is still sleeping.” Esmee pouted in that sweet funny way only toddlers can and pointed to her tummy, “Hungry papa!” Max made a noise of understanding and scooped her up in his arms, standing and silently padding across the room to leave you sleep. He carried her through the hallways of your family home in Monaco and he relished in the way Esmee snuggled into his neck, finding comfort and warmth in the way he felt each of her short little breaths against his neck. He pressed a kiss to the side of her head and slowed his pace down a little, enjoying the time he had. It was quiet, barely five in the morning, the sun only just beginning to creep up in the sky. The traffic was still light outside, just the hiss of the garbage truck and the occasional siren in the distance. He softly strolled down the hallway, hand rubbing and down Esmee’s back in the way he’d done ever since the first time he held her.

As he got to the kitchen, he placed Esmee down in her chair, not a baby high chair anymore but taller than the rest of your chairs to accommodate her short body. She let out a whine at losing his body heat and attention and he turned back to see her holding her arms out to him, begging to be picked back up. ‘Like mother like daughter’ Max thought, knowing full well he was unable to say no to either of you. He picked her up and placed her over one arm, tickling her tummy with his free hand when her gleeful giggle sounded around the room knowing she’d gotten her own way. Max knew that anyone who looked at him for just a few seconds would see that he was completely wrapped around his daughter’s tiny finger. Just as Mama and Papa were her whole world, she was theirs. 

“What should we have for breakfast Es hm?” Max opened the fridge and looked at the contents, thinking what he could make for all of you, “should we make some for Mama too?” Esmee nodded, excited as Max mentions you. “Panpan papa!” Max laughed as she did her best to say the word ‘pancake’, “Okay then flower, pancakes it is!” Max had watched you make them so many times he was pretty confident in the recipe, knowing it would be in your recipe book on the island if he really needed guidance. Esmee clapped her hands and Max sat her on the counter next to where he was standing, “You want to help?” She nodded and a serious expression took over her face, Max smiled and kissed her forehead before he gathered the ingredients he needed from various cupboards and the fridge. “Okay then flower, let’s do this!” Max pulled the measuring cups from the drawer in front of him and held the correct one out to Esmee. She took it, her pudgy little legs kicking in excitement as her face lit up in glee. Max held out the bag of flour and wrapped his hand around hers to help her dig the right amount out of the bag. He let her tip it into the bowl on her own, her tongue poking out in concentration. Once she was finished, she beamed up at him and he gave a cheer, encouraging her for her efforts, “Good job flower!” She practically bounced on the counter, excited to be making pancakes with her Papa and for a moment Max almost wished you were awake to take a picture of this moment, so that even when he was old and his memory started fading, he would still be able to remember.

He pulled himself back to the present, not wanting to miss looking at her for a second. He was unable to help the way yet another fond smile creeps across his face as he watched  her gasp as she spilt some of the sugar on the counter top but he was quick to reassure her, “It’s okay flower! Mess is okay sometimes.” Her worried expression fell and she was back to staring at the bowl intently as she added the next ingredient. Max handed Esmee an egg, “You’ve done this bit with Mama before, haven’t you flower?” Esmee nodded but still looked at him and held the egg back out to him, “Papa help please?” He leaned down to rub his nose against hers and she giggled trying to push his face away, “Papa tickles!” Max relented and placed his hands over hers to gently tap the egg against the counter and add it to the bowl. He disposed of the shell before helping Esmee lift the milk carton to tip it into the bowl. When they’d added all the ingredients, Max grabbed a whisk and turns to the toddler, “Should Papa do this part?” Esmee nods, “Papa strong!” “Mhmm, Papa is suuuuper strong!” Esmee shrieked with delight as Max threw her into the air once to prove his point before placing her back down, hand ruffling her hair before he began to mix the ingredients together.

Esmee grabbed her bunny and Max gave a fond smile, remembering how it was one of the first things you’d picked out together when you were expecting her. Max allowed himself to reminisce as he remembered how he had been so desperate to have a son, he’d been so sure Esmee would be a boy. He had even told you that he hoped it wasn’t a girl, a point you hadn’t taken too kindly to and had quickly shut down. Max could still remember the conversation like it was yesterday… “Max you cannot be serious.” Your hands were planted firmly on your hips as you shot a cold glare at him and he cowered ever so slightly, “Schat I just meant that-” “No no, Max. I understood what you meant perfectly.” Max was silent, knowing he had no defence against you, “You want a boy to carry on the Verstappen name? You think a daughter can’t go into Formula One? You think a daughter won’t do great things and make you proud just because she’s a woman? What about me? Do you think less of me because I’m a woman?” Max sighed as your ranting stopped. 

“I’m worried about what the world of F1 would do to her…” You pulled back, having never heard him speak so quietly or softly before, he sank down onto the couch, “You know how horrible it can be…” You nodded understandingly, “I do, yes…” “Then you know what kind of things she will have to face.” You took a seat next to him and rubbed his back soothingly, “But she will have you to have her back and protect her from as much of it as you can…” You did your best to calm his mind and he took a deep breath, “I know schat… but also… I don’t know how to be a girl dad! I don’t know how to do hair or how to play with barbies or how to teach her about…” his voice quietened, “periods…” You couldn’t help the way a laugh left you and Max whined at you, “Stop laughing! I’m serious!” 

You planted a kiss against his cheek and sat back against the couch, inviting him to lay his head in your lap near your tummy, something that had become your new routine every evening. Max plopped down and your hand immediately started playing with his hair as he rested one hand on your bump. “I know it’s scary… but you have plenty of time to learn as you go! You’re bound to make mistakes love, we both are… she’ll teach you how she wants to play with you and hey, maybe she’ll be into cars more than barbies!” Max kissed your bump and smiled, “And I think you should probably leave the period talk to me…” He laughed heartily and nodded before turning to your bump once more,  “Hi baby… It’s me… your Papa… W-we don’t know what you are yet,” He looked up at you and you nodded at him reassuringly, “but whether you turn out to be a boy or girl we’ll love you so so much. We already love you so much.” You hand continued through his hair as his eyes closed, “You’re going to love being a girl dad…” One eye cracked open as he stared at you, “You sound sure it’s a girl?” “Call it pregnant woman intuition…” 

“Mama!” A call of your name and Esmee’s hand patting his arm pulled him from his memories and he turned to see you watching in the doorway, the most peaceful and loving expression on your face, you crossed the kitchen having been caught and swept your toddler up in your arms, blowing raspberries on her tummy and feeling your heart squeeze at her little giggles, “Good morning flower!” You sat her up in your arms and her little hands held your face as she gave you a sloppy kiss on the cheek, you laughed and walked back to the counter, gently placing her back down, “What are you doing with Papa hmm?” Esmee pointed at the bowl with wide eyes, “Panpan Mama!” You gasped and widened your own eyes, mimicking her excitement, “You’re making pancakes? Mama’s favourite?” Esmee nodded and her little legs started kicking again. You turned to Max and placed your chin on his shoulder, “Good morning handsome.” he turned his head to kiss your forehead, “Good morning schat.” He put the whisk down and turned to pull you into his arms, “What time did she wake up?” You pulled away from him and headed to the fridge to get some milk for her sippy cup, “Around five…” Max winced and you smiled, “Sorry I stayed asleep,” Max waved your apology away, “Don’t apologise, you need the sleep schatje.” 

His eyes fell to the slight swell of your stomach and thanked every star above that he was lucky enough to have a beautiful wife, a sweet toddler and one more on the way. You bustled around the kitchen, tidying here and there as Max started cooking breakfast. You crossed back to Esmee to give her her sippy cup and she patted your tummy gently as you stood in front of her, “A’morning baby!” You felt a small flutter in your tummy and you booped her nose, “Baby says ‘good morning Esmee!’”

Max felt a huge smile fill his face as he took in the interaction next to him, he turned to you, crossing his arms as he waited for the next pancake to cook before he flipped it over, “You know… I really won’t mind if this one is a girl too…” You looked at him from where you stood and raised one eyebrow with a smirk, “Oh no?” Max let out a breath of laughter, flippin the pancake in the pan, “Yeah yeah, go ahead and laugh…” You shook your head, “Told you you’d love being a girl dad…” Max tipped the cooked pancake on the plate, turned the stove off and crossed the kitchen to wrap his arms around you from behind, resting his chin on your shoulder so he could watch Esmee tucking into her pancakes with all the vigour a hungry two year old could muster, his voice was quiet, “And what’s your pregnant woman's intuition saying about this one then hmm?” he kissed your neck softly and your head tipped back with a happy hum, “Max Emilian Verstappen, you are destined to be a girl dad…” He laughed and kissed your neck once more.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

And five months later when Anneleise is born, Max stares at her in awe with tears in his eyes as this tiny precious bundle is carefully placed into his arms, “Hi baby girl, I’m your Papa…” Her only response is a big yawn for such a small person and an even bigger stretch as she nestles into his chest, recognising his voice. He isn’t sure why you’re suddenly chuckling to yourself but when he looks up, you’ve got tears in your own eyes as you film him sitting in the hospital chair doing skin to skin with your new daughter. It’s only then that he realises he’s crying. He can’t even find it in himself to be embarrassed, instead, looking back down at Anneleise and softly tracing her tiny features. You watch on and smile, noting how he’s much more assured in how he holds this baby, how he talks to her and you know that just like when Esmee was born, he is instantly wrapped around her finger. You know that just like the promises he made about protecting Esmee and always being there for her, ring true for this daughter as well. You know you’re looking at a man who will attend tea parties, drive his girls to the karting track and to ballet lessons, will do his best to braid their hair, will sing disney songs in the car and paint their nails to the best of his abilities. You know that when your girls get older he will buy them ice cream after a breakup, teach them how to drive, help them revise for exams, support them in their dreams and cry when he watches them get married. Because forever and always, Max is a girl dad.  And later on when Max watches the video you had filmed earlier - and every time after that -  he hears your voice, making him smile,

“Max Verstappen, you are such a girl dad.”

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[m4rv3l-girl]

Hii pls for the love of God, can you,pake a part 2 of baby fever bucky? And part 3 and 4 cause damn 🥵🥵

I had to do it, I got asked many, many times ( @baw1066 @identity2212)…. So..

Happens to the Best of Us - Part 2

Part 1

Warnings: Pure filth. Breeding kink. Fingering. P in v sex.

“Say please, Doll.”

This pulled a sharp whine from your throat, a pulse beginning to form between your legs. “Hm..please, James..”

And that just about did it, Bucky’s name. His real name. That sent a spark down his spine and he could no longer hold his teasing demeanor, eager to lose control and breed Y/N. He could see your eyes flickering desperately down his body, starting at his neck and eventually landing on the bulge in his jeans.

“G’head, Kitten. Take what you want.” He muttered.

Your hands fumbled with the buttons of his shirt, eager to touch his skin, gasping at the feeling of his stomach, your fingers trace the lines of his chest and abs. Bucky groaned, his cock was practically throbbing now with the need to fill you up.

“Gonna’ make you a mommy.” He lifted your shirt gently yet hastily over your head, revealing your full, soft breasts. After staring in utter adoration for an almost comical amount of time, he cupped them in his hands, his metal thumb brushing over one of your nipples, making them harden into tight peaks.

Letting out a soft moan that lingered in your breath, your head fell backwards. "Buck...please, want your babies in me..."

He quickly acted to dull the pounding ache in your body, capturing your other nipple in his mouth, his tongue swirling around the sensitive bud. The hot muscle eased over your taut skin expertly. Your body curved up, hips instinctively grinding against the tough, structured fabric of his jeans. You could feel the moisture nigh-on dripping between your legs, you were aching to be satisfied by his touch. To be filled with his kids.

Bucky slipped his hand under your skirt with conviction, his cool, metal fingers finding the wet heat of your core. He hummed deeply. Slipping a finger inside into you with practiced skill, his thumb and palm messily rubbed your clit, making you grunt with pleasure.

"You're so wet, Y/N," he murmured against the hollow of your collarbone. "Really want my cock, huh? You’re just made to have my babies." Kissing lightly, his lips had a revenant quality as they danced across your chest.

You nodded enthusiastically - breath coming in short gasps. "Yes. Need it. Please..."

James slipped another Vibranium finger inside you, stretching you deliciously and preparing you for his cock. He could feel your muscles retracting around his fingers, your body both tight and begging for more. His mouth explored the expanse of your shoulder, his tongue sliding out and slipping along the arch where your arm joins your neck, continuing to finger you with delicate vigour.

Your body was positively burning, your senses overwhelmed with pleasure. You could feel an orgasm building, a swirling cloud of tension floating south as you got closer and closer to the edge.

"Come for me, Y/N," Bucky whispered, his voice hoarse with a loose clutch on control. "Let me see you come undone, Kitty. It’ll make the seed take better."

With a cry, your body convulsed under the weight of ecstasy, your orgasm ripping through you like a pleasant combustion. Bucky captured your cry in his mouth, his fingers still curling up inside you, drawing out your pleasure.

When you finally rocked down from your release, Bucky lifted you up by the hips and stuffed a pillow under them to angle you upwards. His body covered yours completely. He kissed you deeply and lovingly, his cock throbbing with need as he rubbed it against your pussy.

"I want to feel you inside me," You whispered, darkened eyes locked with his. "I want to feel you breed me, Baby."

Bucky moaned. Not a grunt or a groan, but a true, pleasured moan. His cock was straining painfully by that point. He looked down with nothing but infatuation and lined himself up at your entrance, hands shaking in anticipation. Your hearts were pounding in sync, both sternums moving rapidly.

With one long breath he pushed his hips forward and slipped inside you, his body shuddering at the feel of your slick walls surrounding him raw, with no barrier between you. Your tight body welcomed him in and gripped him tight, causing both pairs of eyes to roll.

“So perfect, Darling…So pretty,” He began to move, his hips thrusting against hers, his cock sliding in and out of her. “M-Fuck..”

"Oh, God, yes," Moaning, your nails dragging down the marred flesh of his back. "Fuck me, James. Fuck me hard."

He obliged, his thrusts becoming faster and harder. You could feel his hips stuttering and faltering after catching your soft spots over and over, his thighs clenching as he approached the edge. He slipped a hand between your bodies, his fingers finding your clit again and stroking it in time with his thrusts.

"Come with me, Y/N," he growled, no longer thinking coherently. "Come with me, baby. I’m ’bout to come inside you-"

With a sob, you felt yourself transcend time and space. Toes curling, back arching, throat bobbing. The air was radiating heat as mingled fluids pooled on the bed.

“Fuck- Yes…Y/N…Gonna’ knock you up, Baby-“

Bucky cried out when your pussy contracted around his cock, your body milking him as he came, his cock convulsing as he filled you with his seed.

You lay there for a moment without breath, bodies entwined, gasps coming in ragged intervals. Bucky rolled off of you, his body spent, but his heart full of love. He pulled you into his arms immediately, your bodies fitting together perfectly.

"I love you, Y/N," he whispered, his voice soft. "I love you so much."

You looked up at him, your eyes filled with love. "I love you too, Bucky. More than anything."

You whine from overstimulation feeling his real hand draw a stripe from your naval to your entrance which was seeping with his release. But before you could reach down to stop him, he tutted. “It’s okay, Doll,” before spreading the liquid stuffing it into you with two fingers, keeping his cum inside you.

“Need to make sure it takes.”

……………………………………………………………………………………………………..

Soooo……what did you think? 🤔

Part 3 is out now!

[rafestify]

OMG PLEASE WRITE SOMETHING WITH JJ X FEM READER WHERE HE SURVIVED I NEED HAPPY ENDING PLEASE

Blue Crown — JJ Maybank

**Season 4 part 2 spoiler alert! read at your own risks ⚠️

Summary : In which the only way to help JJ is by getting that blue crown back from Chandler Groff.

JJ Maybank x Fem!Reader

Warnings : usage of knife, heavy language, violence, blood, gun, english is not my first language

A/N : im afraid this is my coping mechanism, oh btw rafe's not in this story i just dont know what i would do with him

The midday sun blazed high, unbroken and blinding, but the sandstorm approached like a golden wave, shimmering in the light. The air grew hot and dry, buzzing with an electric anticipation as gusts began to whip up the ground. In moments, the bright world transformed, the desert around cloaked in a chaotic dance of light and sand.

Grains swirled furiously, each one catching the sunlight, creating a blinding haze of gold and white. Visibility shrank to a few feet, the sandstorm casting the world in a strange, glowing fog. It was harsh, relentless, every breath filled with the sting of earth and sun, an unstoppable force of nature bearing down with brilliant fury.

JJ’s feet finally hit the dusty ground, the force of his landing sending a cloud of sand and dirt rising into the air. The narrow alleyway of Essaouira echoed with the sound of his boots hitting the cobblestones as he steadied himself. He clutched the wrapped blue crown in his hands, his knuckles white. “You good?” I asked, my voice full of concern as I stepped closer to him, eyes scanning his face for any signs of strain.

“I’m good, I’m good. I’m better, actually. I’m great!” JJ said with a grin that seemed to spread across his face like wildfire. He rushed over to me, pulling the scarf from the crown with quick, excited movements. “Cause look!” he exclaimed, his voice full of energy.

He held up the crown, now revealed, but it was covered in dust, the rich blue stones clouded by the grime of their journey. Despite the dirt, the crown’s intricate design was unmistakable, its value evident even beneath the layers of dust. My breath caught in my throat as I saw it, this relic, this symbol of everything we had lost. “No way, oh my god,” I whispered, my eyes wide with disbelief. My grin mirrored JJ’s as we both stood there for a moment, taking in the weight of the moment.

JJ’s loud cheer broke the silence, ringing out into the alleyway and bouncing off the high walls of the medina. “I... I did it!” he shouted, the sheer joy and relief in his voice undeniable.

I couldn’t help but laugh, my heart swelling with pride. “Do you know what this means?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper, as if I didn’t want to jinx it.

“Oh yeah, I do,” JJ said, his grin widening. His eyes shone with an intensity that made everything feel possible again. “We’re getting it back. We’re getting back our home.”

His words hung in the air between us, full of hope and the promise of a new beginning. I couldn’t help but smile as I wrapped my arms around him tightly. “You did it, baby. You did it!” I whispered in his ear, my heart hammering in my chest.

For a moment, everything felt right, as if the weight of the world had been lifted from our shoulders. But then, a cold chill ran down my spine, and I sensed something shift in the air. JJ’s expression changed in an instant, his eyes narrowing as he looked behind me, his body tensing. Without a word, he grabbed my arm and pulled me back, hard. “Wait, wait, hey! Go, go, go!” he shouted, his voice urgent, his grip tight on my wrist.

Before I could react, a sharp crack echoed through the air. The sound of a gunshot. The bullet whizzed past us, a split second away from tearing through the space where we had just been standing. My heart skipped a beat, and my body went into full panic mode.

“Run, run, run!” JJ yelled, pushing me forward, his hand at the small of my back, guiding me with the force of his desperation. The narrow streets of Essaouira stretched out ahead of us, winding and twisting like a maze, but we had no time to think, only to move. The sound of the gunshot still reverberated in my ears as we sprinted through the bustling medina, the faded buildings on either side almost closing in on us, the warm air heavy with the scent of saltwater from the distant ocean.

I could hear the sound of heavy boots behind us, pounding against the stones. The mercenaries were closing in. I could feel my lungs burning as I pushed my legs harder, adrenaline fueling every step.

“C’mon, Y/N, we gotta find the others!” JJ shouted from ahead, his voice sharp but full of focus. He had a plan. I could tell by the way he moved, the urgency in his every step. He was determined, but so was I. We had come this far, and we weren’t about to lose everything now.

We reached a narrow staircase that led downward into the heart of the maze of Essaouira’s old city. The steps were uneven, some worn smooth by centuries of footsteps, others jagged and crumbling. We had to be careful as we descended, not just from the chase, but from the danger of slipping on the worn stones. My pulse raced as we moved, the sound of our feet pounding against the stone seeming deafening in the otherwise still air.

JJ called out to me, “Hey, Y/N! This way!” His voice came from behind, but I didn’t look back. I had a feeling this was our only chance to lose the mercenaries. I kept my head down and pushed forward, following the winding path through the narrow streets and alleys.

Finally, we reached a small open space near the bottom of the staircase, a brief moment of cover amidst the tightly packed buildings. The view of the city below was dizzying, the sea stretched out in the distance, and the maze of whitewashed houses. But I couldn’t afford to enjoy the view, or at least not yet. I turned to take a breath, my body trembling with exhaustion, “J!” I called out and just as I did, I felt a sharp pressure against my neck. A strong arm wrapped around me from behind, dragging me backward with frightening speed.

I gasped, my breath choking in my throat, as I struggled against the iron grip around my neck. My heart hammered in fear. “Shh!” The man behind me grunted, his grip tightening, cutting off any chance of air. My mind raced—how had they gotten so close? Where was JJ?

“Quiet, quiet. Shut—” His voice was low, guttural, as he squeezed harder.

“J!” I managed to croak out, each word a desperate gasp for air.

“Y/N,” I heard JJ’s voice, strained but strong, coming from the shadows. My heart leapt as I caught sight of him, standing firm, one arm shielding his face from the dust swirling in the air. “JJ!” I cried, relief flooding my chest, though fear still gripped me.

“Let her go,” JJ commanded, his voice cold but unwavering.

The man behind me stiffened, and I heard him growl, “Stop right there.” And that was when the weight of the situation hit me. The voice was unmistakable, Chandler Groff. JJ's biological father.

I swallowed hard, every muscle in my body tense, ready to fight back, but I couldn’t move. My body was locked in place, held captive by his suffocating grip. All I could do was let out weak grunts, trying to free myself from the hold, my hands instinctively pressing against his arm in a futile attempt to loosen it.

“Don’t move,” Groff ordered, his voice venomous as he squeezed harder. My lungs burned, and I gasped for air. His grip was like iron, and I could feel my vision beginning to blur. I tapped at his arm in a silent plea, trying to signal that I couldn’t breathe, but he didn’t seem to care.

“You know what I want,” Groff said, his voice laced with a twisted calm as he extended his hand toward JJ. “Give it to me.”

JJ’s voice was barely above a whisper, but it was full of resolve. “Just let her go.”

Groff chuckled bitterly, his breath hot against my ear. “You could’ve stuck with me, JJ,” he sneered, his words dripping with regret. “Think of what you could’ve had."

I felt the cold edge of a knife press against my cheek, and my breath caught in fear. “But now,” Groff continued, his voice growing darker, “you’re going to get nothing.”

I felt his grip tighten again as he hissed, “Nothing.”

JJ seemed distant, as if lost in his own thoughts. His eyes, focused but distant, flickered between Groff and the crown in his hand. Then, in a quiet but firm voice, he spoke. “No.” The word was resolute, cutting through the tension like a blade. He muttered to himself, barely audible, “I already have everything.”

I looked at him, confusion and worry swirling in my chest, but JJ didn’t seem to notice. His gaze grew distant, a bittersweet smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “And I already have everything I’ve wanted,” he continued, his voice almost hollow, as if he was saying the words to convince himself. “Things that you’ll never have,” he added, his smile somehow broken.

Suddenly, without warning, JJ held out the crown, the weight of it now settling between us like a silent challenge. His voice was steady, but there was an edge to it. “You want the crown?”

Groff’s eyes locked onto the crown, and for a moment, his expression softened, as if the object was the only thing that mattered. “Sure, take it,” JJ said, his words cold, almost dismissive. “Take it. I don’t want it,” he reassured, his eyes never leaving Groff’s.

“Just… let her go,” JJ’s voice was low, but there was a sharpness to it now, a finality. Groff’s hand shot out greedily, reaching for the crown. “Perfect,” he said with a grin, his voice dripping with satisfaction. “Hold it out.”

“Take it,” JJ repeated, his voice unwavering, no trace of doubt in it. His eyes were locked on Groff’s, his stance firm. “Easy,” JJ added, the words low, but there was something steady about them. He was ready for this. He was ready for this moment to be over.

I could barely breathe, my chest tight as I watched them, my heart racing. My body was still trembling from the fear, but I could sense the shift in JJ’s demeanor. His resolve was unwavering now.

“Hold it out. Come on,” Groff urged, his hand outstretched, fingers grasping for the prize.

In that instant, JJ pulled me into his embrace, and I gasped as his arms wrapped around me, pulling me close to his chest. I buried my head in his neck, gasping for air, the pressure lifting from my lungs as I felt the safety of his hold. My hands instinctively wrapped around him, holding him tight, as if making sure this wasn’t a dream.

“I got you,” JJ murmured, his voice thick with relief. I felt his heartbeat against my cheek, steady and strong. His arms tightened around me as if afraid to let go. “It’s okay,” he whispered again, the words soothing, though his voice still trembled with the remnants of fear.

I pulled back slightly, looking into his eyes, and my heart swelled. “Thank you,” I whispered, my voice barely audible, the words heavy with all the gratitude and emotion I couldn’t fully express.

JJ’s grip tightened, and for the first time in what felt like forever, I felt like everything would be okay.

“JJ.” Groff’s voice sliced through the tense silence like a blade, and JJ stiffened, his body reluctant but yielding. Slowly, he pulled away from me, his movements slow, almost pained, as if every inch away from me felt like a sacrifice. He turned to face Groff, his expression hardening, the relief of the moment slipping away as he steeled himself for whatever was coming.

Groff stood there, his posture relaxed but his eyes sharp, like a predator toying with its prey. “It’s a shame,” he said, his tone low and almost mournful, though there was no sincerity behind it. His voice carried the weight of a long-forgotten history, one that neither JJ nor I could escape from. “You and me,” Groff continued, his words heavy with regret or perhaps mockery, there was no telling. I stood silently behind JJ, my hands still gripping his shirt, my pulse racing.

Suddenly, I heard the sickening squelch of flesh, and JJ jerked forward, his body lurching as if the world had been ripped out from beneath him. My breath caught in my throat, and I let out a shaky, disbelieving gasp. No, no, no, this can’t be happening. My mind was scrambling to process what I was seeing, but everything seemed to slow, as if the world itself was holding its breath.

I heard JJ’s groan, a deep, painful sound that tore through the air. My stomach dropped, my heart racing. The knife had sunk deeper. “No,” I whispered, my voice trembling as my hands shook, my body frozen in place. And then, as if to mark the moment, I heard Groff’s voice, dark and cold as it slid through the air. “You could have given me the rope,” he murmured, his voice heavy with cruel satisfaction. His tone was like poison, dripping with malice.

Before I could even react, Groff pulled the knife out with a sickening, deliberate slowness. The sound of it tearing through JJ’s flesh was unbearable, sending a shudder through me. I watched as the dark blood poured from his side, staining his shirt, his skin. Groff didn’t even seem to care, his eyes devoid of any emotion as he took one last, final look at his son.

And then, with an almost casual air, he turned away, walking off as if nothing had happened, as if the pain he caused was nothing more than a fleeting moment in his day.

I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t think. My body moved without thinking, rushing forward, reaching for him just in time to catch him before he hit the ground. JJ crumpled in my arms, his body too heavy, too weak to stay upright. His hand instinctively clutched his wound, pressing desperately against the blood that poured from him. His face was pale, his eyes glazed, but still, he tried to hold himself together.

“JJ! No!” I cried out, my voice breaking. I lowered him gently to the ground, my hands shaking violently as I tried to arrange him, to make him comfortable, but nothing felt right. “No, no, no,” I whispered, over and over, as if saying it could somehow make the horror stop.

JJ’s breathing was shallow, ragged, every exhale more painful than the last. His lips parted, his voice barely a whisper, and the words that came from him shattered my heart into a million pieces. "I never told you my wish," he groaned, his hand trembling as he reached up to grab mine. His eyes searched mine with a kind of desperate pleading, but there was nothing I could do to stop the blood that poured from him, nothing I could do to undo the damage.

“JJ–,” I whispered, my voice cracking as tears began to well in my eyes. But his eyes were growing heavier. His body trembled, and I felt him sag against me, his hand slipping from mine. The breath he took was so weak, so labored. It was as if the world was slipping away from him, and I was powerless to stop it.

His lips parted again, and this time, the words that left him were barely a breath. "I already got it" The words were soft, too soft, as if he didn’t have the strength to say them. But in that moment, they crushed me more than anything else could.

“No, no, no, JJ.” I clung to him, my voice barely a whisper, but it trembled with all the fear and desperation I felt. I tried to hold him together, my arms shaking as I cradled his fragile body, willing him to stay with me. “You can’t leave, please don’t leave me.” My words cracked under the weight of the pain.

His breath was ragged, barely audible as he managed to speak, his voice strained and faint. "I love you, Y/N." The words came out in a broken gasp, as though they were the last thing he could say.

“I love you too, JJ. So much," I whispered through my tears, my heart shattering with every second. "Please, please don't go. I can't lose you, not now, not like this. You can’t leave me." My sobs wracked my body, the reality of the moment crashing down on me, but I refused to let go, even if I knew I was losing him.

And still, there was no response. His body became heavier in my arms, his head lolling to the side, and my chest tightened painfully as I realized how much I was losing. I pressed my hand to his wound, but I knew it was futile. His blood was everywhere, soaking through my fingers, and I could do nothing but hold him as he closed his eyes. I could feel the warmth of his fading life slipping through my grasp.

I felt the tears burning in my eyes as I whispered again, “JJ”

And all I could do was hold him, wishing for a miracle that would never come. The weight of his body in my arms felt like a thousand pounds, each breath he took growing more shallow, more labored. The world around me was nothing but a blur of pain, fear, and hopelessness. My hands were shaking, covered in his blood, and I could do nothing to stop it. "John B!" I screamed again, my voice cracking as I looked desperately around, hoping they would somehow hear me. "Pope!" I yelled, but the words felt hollow, lost in the chaos of my thoughts.

It was like time slowed as I held him, the seconds stretching painfully long. My heart was tearing apart with every breath he struggled to take. Suddenly, I heard footsteps, familiar voices calling out to me. I looked up through my blurry vision, and there they were.

John B and Sarah appeared first, their faces stricken with shock and confusion, but it was the moment they exchanged a glance that I knew they understood the gravity of what was happening. The look between them spoke volumes, a shared recognition that this was life or death.

Then, Pope, Kiara, and Cleo rushed in, their faces mirroring the same horror. Kiara’s eyes filled with tears, but she bit her lip, fighting them back, while Cleo’s hand trembled as she kneeled down beside me. Everyone was in shock, but the urgency in the air made it clear: something had to be done, and fast.

I couldn’t hold back any longer. My body shook with sobs, my chest tightening as I buried my face in JJ’s hair, whispering over and over, “Please... don’t leave me.”

Suddenly, amidst the haze of grief, it hit me, the crown. The crown! I gasped, my eyes wide with realization, my voice trembling as I turned to John B. “John B, the crown!” I nearly choked on the words. “Please get the crown back... It could save his life.” I reached for him desperately, my hands gripping his arm. “Please, it could save him. Groff took it. He has the crown!”

John B and Sarah exchanged a quick look, their minds already working, already on the move. John B nodded grimly. “We’re getting it back,” he said firmly, turning to Pope, who was already on his feet, determined.

Pope wiped the sweat from his brow, eyes steely with resolve. “Where is he? Where did Groff go?” he asked, voice low and steady, though I could see the urgency in his eyes.

“Somewhere nearby,” I whispered, choking on my breath. “He can’t be far. You have to find him... the crown can grant a wish... It’s our only chance to save him.”

They both nodded to each other and immediately sprinted off, their eyes scanning the surroundings, their minds racing to figure out where Groff would have gone.

Meanwhile, Kiara, Sarah and Cleo stayed with me, doing their best to comfort me. But nothing could bring me peace. I was too afraid, too consumed by the image of JJ growing weaker and weaker in my arms. Every second felt like an eternity.

John B and Pope moved through the winding streets of Essaouira with a precision born of desperation. They didn’t need words to communicate anymore, their shared focus on getting the crown back drove them forward. They knew the stakes were higher than ever.

After what felt like hours, John B finally spotted Groff’s silhouette in the distance. He motioned for Pope to follow him, and they carefully closed the distance. Groff was standing alone in the alley, the crown glinting in his hands, tucked safely within his grasp. His back was turned, unaware of the approaching threat.

Without a word, John B and Pope charged forward. “Groff!” John B shouted, voice cutting through the air. Groff turned, his face twisted into an amused smirk, as if he’d been expecting this.

“Routledge, you really are like your father, huh?” Groff sneered, his grip tightening around the crown. “You had your chance, kid, but now it’s mine.”

John B didn't hesitate. He lunged forward, throwing a punch that Groff barely dodged, but it was enough to send him stumbling backward. Pope followed, using the momentum to land a hard blow to Groff's side. Groff grunted but recovered quickly, his eyes narrowing with fury.

"You’ll never win, you know that?" Groff hissed, drawing a knife from his belt, the blade flashing in the dim light. "I’ve always been one step ahead of you."

John B and Pope exchanged a quick glance, knowing they had to act fast. John B charged again, dodging Groff’s swipe and knocking the knife from his hand. They were both quick, relentless, using every ounce of energy to fight him off.

Groff snarled in frustration as he tried to backpedal, but Pope tackled him from behind, sending them both tumbling to the ground. In the struggle, the crown fell from Groff’s grip, bouncing across the stone street. Without thinking, John B scrambled for it, grabbing the crown and standing up with it in his hand.

“I told you,” John B said breathlessly, looking down at Groff, “we’re gonna take back what's ours.”

Groff, seething with rage, scrambled to his feet, but he knew the battle was lost. He glared at John B and Pope with a venomous look, but he didn’t make another move. “This isn’t over,” he spat, before turning and disappearing into the shadows, leaving them standing victorious, but at a great cost.

John B and Pope rushed back to where I was, their eyes scanning the crowd. When they saw me still holding JJ, they didn’t need to ask. They knew. John B thrust the crown into my hands, his face filled with determination.

“We got it,” he said, panting from the exertion.

Tears welled up in my eyes as I stared at the crown, the only thing that could save him. I placed it gently onto JJ’s chest, my hands trembling. They all watched carefully as I closed my eyes, whispering a prayer to the universe. "Please, please let this work. I can’t lose you, JJ.”

And just like that, I felt a shift, a flicker of hope, a warm light growing from within the crown. The energy seemed to pulse, as if it was answering the wish I had silently made.

The moment the crown touched JJ’s chest, a strange warmth radiated from it, spreading through his body. I held my breath, my hands still trembling as I hovered over him, watching, praying for a sign. At first, nothing happened, just the faint rise and fall of his chest, the quiet whisper of his breaths filling the silence around us. But then, a soft glow began to emanate from the crown. It wasn’t bright or blinding, but it was enough to make the air feel charged, alive.

A shaky breath escaped my lips as I watched, my heart racing in my chest. I whispered again, my voice barely audible. "Please, JJ."

Suddenly, a jolt of warmth shot through my hands, and I felt the familiar weight of his body beneath me shift. His eyelids fluttered, then slowly opened, a faint groan escaping his lips.

"Y/N..." His voice was hoarse, barely a whisper, but it was there. He was still here. I felt a wave of relief crash over me, overwhelming and dizzying. His eyes met mine, and I saw the faintest hint of recognition.

"J" I gasped, my voice cracking as I leaned down, pressing my forehead to his. I couldn't stop the tears that drop from my eyes "Oh my god, I thought I lost you,"

He blinked a few times, as if trying to make sense of the world around him. His hand trembled as it reached up to touch my face, his fingers brushing against my skin as though confirming that I was real. His voice was still weak, but there was a clarity in his eyes now, a spark of life that hadn't been there moments before. "You're not getting rid of me that easy."

I let out a chuckle as tears streamed down my face, and I couldn’t stop them. "J.." I couldn’t finish the sentence, my throat too tight, my emotions threatening to overwhelm me.

JJ tried to sit up, but the movement caused him to wince, his hand pressing against his side where the wound still lingered. I gently placed my hand on his chest, stopping him. "Don't" I said sternly.

He gave me a small, weak smile, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. "I’m not going anywhere, Y/N. I promise."

I couldn’t help the laugh that escaped me, a sound of pure relief. I leaned down again, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead. "You can't kill a pogue" He mumbled as he looked around at his friends, his voice thick with emotion.

JJ reached up, his hand cupping the back of my head, his thumb gently brushing against my hair.

I closed my eyes, holding him close, savoring the warmth of his body against mine. The crown still rested on his chest, glowing faintly, as though it had worked its magic. I didn’t know how, or why, or what kind of power it had, but in that moment, I didn’t care. All that mattered was that JJ was alive. He was here. And he wasn’t going anywhere.

I looked around at all of them, my heart swelling with gratitude for the people who had fought so hard to get him back. We had all been through so much, but in that moment, we were together. And no matter what came next, we had each other.

For the first time in what felt like forever, I allowed myself to believe that maybe, just maybe, everything would be okay.

likes and reblogs are appreciated 🐇

[xxspringmelodyxx]

“𝒲𝒽𝓎’𝒹 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒹𝑜 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉?”

┗━━⊱ 𝑯𝒐𝒘 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒚 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒄𝒕 𝒕𝒐 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒌𝒊𝒄𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒎 𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒐𝒇 𝒃𝒆𝒅 𝒊𝒏 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒔𝒍𝒆𝒆𝒑 ⊰━━┛

⊱ 𝑰𝒏𝒄𝒍𝒖𝒅𝒆𝒔: 𝑺𝒂𝒕𝒐𝒓𝒖 𝑮𝒐𝒋𝒐, 𝑺𝒖𝒈𝒖𝒓𝒖 𝑮𝒆𝒕𝒐, 𝑲𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒐 𝑵𝒂𝒏𝒂𝒎𝒊, 𝑪𝒉𝒐𝒔𝒐 𝑲𝒂𝒎𝒐, 𝑻𝒐𝒋𝒊 𝑭𝒖𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒈𝒖𝒓𝒐, 𝑺𝒖𝒌𝒖𝒏𝒂 𝑹𝒚𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒏 ⊰

✩⁺₊✩☽⋆Warnings: None ⋆☾✩⁺₊✩

𝑴𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕

✿⋆·˚❀˚·⋆✿✿⋆·˚❀˚·⋆✿✿⋆·˚❀˚·⋆✿✿⋆·˚❀˚·⋆✿✿⋆·˚❀˚·⋆✿✿⋆·˚❀˚·⋆✿✿⋆·˚❀˚·⋆✿✿⋆·˚❀˚·⋆✿

Thank you to @haydensjw for this cute request! I hope you enjoy!! <3333

─═✧✧═─ 𝕊𝕒𝕥𝕠𝕣𝕦 𝔾𝕠𝕛𝕠 ─═✧✧═─

Satoru woke up to a sensation of falling, his body reacting instinctively even before his mind fully registered what was happening. He landed on the floor with a soft thud, immediately jolting awake. Sitting up, he rubbed the back of his head, a grin forming on his face despite the abrupt awakening.

“Well, that was rude,” he said, his voice laced with amusement. He looked up at the bed, where you were still sprawled out, one leg hanging off the edge where you’d accidentally pushed him.

An idea popped into his head, and he chuckled softly to himself.

Climbing back onto the bed, he decided that simply cuddling you wasn’t enough. Instead, he gently moved you to the center of the bed and then lay directly on top of you, his full weight pressing down. He rested his head on your chest, wrapping his arms around you tightly. “No more pushing…” he spoke.

You stirred slightly, feeling the sudden pressure, but didn’t fully wake up. “Hmm… Toru?” you mumbled sleepily.

“Shh, go back to sleep,” he whispered, his voice filled with playful amusement. “This is payback for pushing me off the bed.”

You let out a soft, sleepy laugh, your arms instinctively wrapping around him. “You’re heavy,” you murmured, still half-asleep.

“Get used to it,” he teased, nuzzling into you. “I’m not moving.”

Despite the unusual situation, you quickly drifted back to sleep, comforted by his presence. Satoru smiled, feeling your steady heartbeat beneath him. “Goodnight, my princess,” he whispered, holding you close as he closed his eyes, perfectly content to stay like that for the rest of the night.

─═✧✧═─ 𝕊𝕦𝕘𝕦𝕣𝕦 𝔾𝕖𝕥𝕠 ─═✧✧═─

Suguru hit the floor with a soft grunt, the sudden impact waking him abruptly. He sat up, rubbing his head, and looked at the bed in confusion. Seeing you still asleep, sprawled across the bed, he realized what had happened.

A gentle smile formed on his face as he watched you. Despite the rude awakening, he couldn’t bring himself to be upset. Carefully, he stood up and stretched before quietly climbing back into bed. Careful not to wake you, he began to climb back into bed with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

Gently, he maneuvered you so that you weren’t sprawled out anymore. Then he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you snugly against his chest. “Can’t have you pushing me off again, can we?” he whispered, his breath warm against your ear.

You stirred slightly, mumbling something incoherent, but didn’t wake. Suguru smiled, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head. “Sweet dreams, my love,” he murmured, holding you tight and secure in his embrace, making sure you both stayed safe and warm through the night.

─═✧✧═─ 𝕂𝕖𝕟𝕥𝕠 ℕ𝕒𝕟𝕒𝕞𝕚 ─═✧✧═─

Kento Nanami woke up with a start as he hit the floor, his training making him react instinctively. He quickly assessed the situation, realizing he’d been pushed off the bed. Sitting up, he sighed, looking at you still fast asleep, oblivious to what had happened.

He couldn’t help but smile at your peaceful expression. Despite his usual serious demeanor, moments like these reminded him of why he cherished you so much. Standing up, he carefully climbed back into bed.

Kento gently shook your shoulder. “Hey,” he said softly, his voice laced with warmth. “You pushed me off the bed.”

Your eyes fluttered open, bleary and confused. “What? I did?” You ask groggily, “I’m so sorry!” you said, your voice filled with concern.

Kento chuckled quietly, his eyes softening. “It’s alright. I just didn’t want you to have another wild dream and end up on the floor yourself.”

You sighed in relief, snuggling closer to him as he wrapped his arms around you. “I’ll try to be more careful,” you promised, already drifting back to sleep.

Kento kissed your forehead, holding you securely. “Goodnight, honey,” he whispered, letting sleep take over.

─═✧✧═─ ℂ𝕙𝕠𝕤𝕠 𝕂𝕒𝕞𝕠 ─═✧✧═─

Choso landed on the floor with a soft thud, the sudden fall jolting him awake. He sat up, blinking in confusion before realizing he’d been pushed off the bed. Looking back, he saw you still deeply asleep, completely unaware of what had just happened.

His heart sank a little as he wondered if he’d done something to upset you. Slowly, he got up and climbed back into bed, gently nudging your shoulder. “Hey,” he whispered, his voice filled with concern. “Did I do something wrong?”

You stirred awake, confusion evident in your sleepy eyes. “What? No, why?”

“You pushed me off the bed,” he explained softly, searching your face for any signs of distress.

Your eyes widened in realization, and you quickly shook your head. “Oh, baby! I’m so sorry, Cho. I was just having a weird dream. It wasn’t you.”

Relief washed over his face, and he smiled gently. “I’m glad to hear that,” he said, pulling you into his arms. “Let’s try to stay in bed this time, though.”

You chuckled softly, resting your head against his chest. “Good idea,” you murmured.

Choso kissed the top of your head, holding you tightly. “Goodnight, baby” he whispered, feeling a deep sense of contentment and relief. With you safe and secure in his arms, he closed his eyes, knowing you were both where you belonged.

─═✧✧═─ 𝕋𝕠𝕛𝕚 𝔽𝕦𝕤𝕙𝕚𝕘𝕦𝕣𝕠 ─═✧✧═─

Toji was startled awake by the sensation of falling, and before he could react, he hit the floor with a thud. The sudden impact caused you to wake up and, in a panic, you rolled right off the bed after him, landing in a heap beside him.

He groaned, rubbing his head and looking at you with a mix of amusement and bewilderment. “Well, that’s one way to wake up,” he said, a rare chuckle escaping his lips.

You looked at him, wide-eyed and mortified. “Oh shit, Toji! I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

Toji interrupted with a smirk, pulling you into his lap. “Relax, it’s not a big deal. Just means we both have a lot of energy even in our sleep,” he teased, his voice warm.

You laughed softly, feeling a bit better. He stood up, helping you to your feet, and guided you back to bed. Once there, he wrapped his strong arms around you, keeping you securely in place. “No more gymnastics tonight, okay?” he murmured, his breath tickling your ear.

“Okay, Toji. Goodnight,” you whispered, snuggling into his embrace.

“Goodnight,” he replied, holding you close.

─═✧✧═─ 𝕊𝕦𝕜𝕦𝕟𝕒 ℝ𝕪𝕠𝕞𝕖𝕟 ─═✧✧═─

Sukuna woke up to the sensation of falling, his senses immediately on high alert. He landed on the floor with a thud, quickly sitting up and scowling. He looked up at the bed, where you were still fast asleep, completely unaware of what you had just done.

His eyes narrowed as he considered waking you up and giving you a piece of his mind, but then he paused. Despite his annoyance, there was something almost endearing about how peacefully you slept.

He stood up, brushing himself off, and climbed back into bed with a sigh. Instead of waking you, he decided to take a different approach. He gently pulled you closer to the center of the bed, making sure you were secure.

With a smirk, he lay down beside you, wrapping an arm around you possessively. “You’re lucky you’re cute,” he muttered, his voice a low growl. He nuzzled into your neck, feeling your warmth and letting it soothe his irritation.

You stirred slightly, mumbling something in your sleep, but didn’t wake up. Sukuna’s smirk softened into a rare, genuine smile. “Sleep well, little one,” he whispered, holding you tight.

Taglist: @eddiemxnsonlvr

[satoruhour]

悟

a/n:a repost from my old blog ♡ / contains one sex joke / 0.9k

“satoru, come to bed, it’s late,” yawning, you pat the space beside you. he’s doing his nightly skincare routine, patting his face gently with the retinol serum he just bought.

“ya sure you don’t want to try it out?” gojo offers out the dropper, a hairband cutely pushed up to prevent his bangs from interfering.

“i don’t like slimey stuff on my face.” and you cringe, realising your mistake too late.

“and yet you give me your face to cu—”

“shut the fuck up,” you severely miss him, pillow landing on the floor beside him. he didn’t even bother to activate his technique, laughing out loud at your failed attempt.

gojo never did switch it on when he was with you. not when he decided that he’d give his all to you, not even he asked you to move in with him on a desperate full of nightmares, not when you first said i love you.

gojo satoru was soft around you, a sight that many would like to see yet only disclosing it to you. the you who got him falling when you’d hang out with his students, giving as much pointers as you could on cursed energy. that was when he decided, he’s sure. but again, there were countless other times where gojo recalls falling deeper and deeper in love with you. he smiles at that, capping the skin care bottle before quite literally jumping onto the bed.

“argh... satoru, what the hell? you’re heavy!” his weight was crushing you, emphasised more when he leans down to plant kisses on your features. the feigned anger turns to giggling and shielding hands which he easily seizes between his fingers.

“s-stop! ’toru!” your smile is like the first few hues of dusk. it makes him feel all warm and mushy inside, something the strongest normally wouldn’t have the luxury of feeling. satoru says, fuck it, because even i deserve love, even i deserve to be held. he repeats those words you said to him the first time he broke down in front of you, and he does it all the time, now.

gojo is brought back to reality when you cup his cheeks gently, not minding the slimey stuff as you caress his skin. your hands accommodate his smile, cheeks filling up with how he’s grinning down at you and you feel dizzy with the immense love you have for him.

“you’re insanely beautiful, satoru,” you say it like it wouldn’t boost his ego, but you can’t care much when that much is true, noticing how much his hair resembles starlight and how his azure eyes catch the moonlight so perfectly.

gojo could say the same about you.

he sucks in a breath when he hears the compliment, the familiar cocky smirk and corny line lingering on his lips — he figured it’s just different when the words come from you.

“say it again.”

“hm? you’re beautiful, terribly b—” your mouth parts in surprise when the other lowers himself to your side, which prompts you to lie on your lone shoulder.

“no, my love, i meant my name.” gojo pulls you closer, lighting your skin with flames.

“oh! okay! uhm, sa— toru?” you giggle, the name falling weirdly from your lips now that you were demanded to say it. you try again, “satoru.”

your lover smiles, scooting closer, “again.”

“satoru.” the syllables leaving your lips makes him feel dizzy and giddy. while he enjoys being told his voice sounds like silk and syrup, he finds that it fits you better, bringing his face to rest only inches from yours.

“again.”

“satoru,” you whisper, a shy smile overtaking your lips. soon, they’re captured by gojo’s, moving tenderly against yours. you’re certain you see the sky painted in many different colours before your eyes close, the mere thought of gojo sending you reeling and cheeks flushing.

gojo’s kisses are slow tonight, savouring every part of your mouth before he slips his tongue in, entwining with yours as he continues to make you fall harder. it works. breathlessly, you smile into the kiss to hopefully get a bit of air, feeling the reply of a grin on your lips when his irises open up to look at yours.

“love you.” you murmur, ghosting along his lips before he smashes his lips against yours again, albeit clumsily that you two let out collective laughs.

people only ever call him gojo satoru, the strongest. he’s never found much identity, always a pawn for the higher-ups to play with, but when sa-to-ru falls from your lips? god, he can compare it to being caught in cupid’s arms. you give meaning to his name — satoru, satoru, satoru, you whisper, knowing that it meant enlighten, and he’s certain that’s all you do whenever you’re around.

you’re always lighting up his life, always loving him with no restraint.

“angel?” gojo whispers in between kisses. you respond sleepily, tracing incoherent patterns along his chest. the words are caught in his throat when you fingers go over the 悟 of his name, three syllables packaged into a single character. he didn’t expect you to remember, but it breathes some life back into him when you do it over his heart. he can’t remember the last time he let someone trace his name so intimately.

“your first name is beautiful, satoru, just like you,” you peck his lips. “now rest, you have a long day tomorrow.”

“i love you too,” the other replies a little late. his heart clenches up at the sight of you, caged and safe in his arms that he isn’t sure what to do with his hands. “i love you. i love you. i love you so much.”

with one last lingering kiss, you both succumb to slumber in peace, with gojo satoru’s first name in the palm of your hand, and his last name aching to take its place in front of your own.

[natsaffection]

Hello, hello, sorry for bothering, it's the first time I've made an order (+18)🫣, the idea came to me thanks to a bot, I was wondering if you could make one where Wandanat Dom! x passive reader!, Wandanat are mafia bosses and rivals (you can decide to make Wandanat g!p or not, no problem) and they are both having a loud argument in Natasha's office and the reader just walks in without knocking because he had to handing some papers or something to Natasha and Wanda doesn't take her eyes off the reader, which Natasha realizes and well, you could say they make an alliance to turn the reader into a babbling mess and leave him full of fluids. (only if you want and can, obviously no problem and I'm sorry if you don't understand some of the text, English is not my main language, thank you!.🌟)

The Witch and the Widow. | WandaNat

Warnings: 18+! MINORS DNI!, fingering, rough Sex, Magic-Penis (🫠), multiple orgasms, overstimulation

Word count: 1,6k

A/n: I change the Gender, because I don't write Male reader :) Hope thats okay!!

Natasha leaned against her desk, her eyes sharp as daggers. Opposite her stood Wanda Maximoff, alias the Scarlet Witch, her gaze equally unyielding. "You think you can just stroll into my territory and take what you want?" Natasha's voice was deep and dangerous, every syllable had a sharp edge.

Wanda smiled mockingly, her fingers drumming casually on the armrest of her chair. "I don't think, Natasha. I know. And if you have a problem with that, we can settle it here and now." Natasha's eyes flashed with anger. "You've always been so sure of yourself, haven't you? But your magic tricks won't save you from a bullet."

Wanda's smile widened, her eyes glowing slightly with power. "And your bullets won't save you from my magic. But let's be honest, Natasha, you won't really pull the trigger, will you?"

The room crackled with unspoken threats, neither woman willing to back down, the weight of their past encounters pressing upon them. Just as the tension seemed unbearable, the door flew open, and you walked in, unaware of the tense situation you had just stumbled into.

"Natasha, I need your signature on these-" You stopped abruptly, your eyes widening as you took in the scene before you. Natasha Romanoff and Wanda Maximoff in one room? You couldn't believe it.

Wanda's eyes didn't leave you, a slow, predatory smile spreading across her lips. Natasha noticed the change immediately, her own gaze narrowing but her anger abating as she saw the Scarlet Witch's interest in her assistant.

"Interesting.." murmured Natasha, her voice taking on a new..seductive tone. She pushed off from the desk and moved towards you, who stood frozen in place. "It seems you’re a bit distracted. Do I see a hint of jealousy?"

Wanda's smile grew wider, her magic swirling around her fingers. "Perhaps. But I bet I could please her better than you ever could." Natasha's eyes narrowed, her competitive nature flaring up. "Is that a challenge, Maximoff?"

Wanda tilted her head, her smile a mix of mischief and challenge. "Absolutely. Let's see who can bring our little assistant here the most pleasure." Your heart raced, your eyes darting between the two powerful women. Before you could react, the door clicked shut behind you, sealing your fate. Wanda's magic shimmered, and in an instant, both women stood transformed, their intentions clear and undeniable.

Natasha moved first, her hands gliding over your shoulders, her touch firm yet gentle. "Relax, Y/n. Let's be hospitable to our guest, okay, Detka?" Wanda conjured a coin from thin air, her eyes sparkling. "Let's make it fair, Natasha. Heads or tails?" Natasha's eyes gleamed with challenge. "Heads."

Wanda tossed the coin, and it spun in the air before landing in her hand. "Tails. Looks like I go first." She approached you, her eyes burning with desire. Her magic caressed your skin, making you shiver with anticipation. "Don't be afraid, sweetheart. I've got you."

Wanda's touch was both gentle and demanding, her fingers gliding over your body, eliciting soft sighs and moans from you. Natasha watched, her own desire burning but also noting your every reaction, every quiver of pleasure.

Wanda leaned in, her breath hot against your ear. "Do you feel that? How my magic envelops you, making every touch feel like fire?" You could only whimper, your body arching into Wanda's touch. Wanda's fingers slid deeper, teasing the edges of your clothing before slipping underneath. Your breath hitched as Wanda's fingers found their target.

Natasha's eyes darkened with desire and frustration. "Time to raise the stakes." She came closer, her hands exploring your body alongside Wanda's. You were sandwiched between them, your mind reeling from the intensity of their combined touch.

Wanda's magic flowed, enveloping you and amplifying every sensation. Her touch became more insistent, driving you to the edge. The magic enhanced every one of her movements, her fingers exploring your most sensitive spots with unerring precision. Your body arched and writhed, your moans growing louder as Wanda pushed you closer to the edge. Her lips found your neck, her teeth grazing the delicate skin, sending shivers down your spine. "Do you like that?" Wanda whispered, her voice a husky purr. "Tell me how it feels."

"It..it f-feels.." Your voice was a breathless gasp, your words barely coherent. "So good..please.." Wanda's smile was triumphant as she continued her ministrations, her magic pulsing in time with your heartbeat. "That's it. Let go. Come for me."

As you came down from your climax, Wanda stepped back, a satisfied smile on her lips. "Your turn." Natasha's eyes burned with desire and determination. She positioned herself in front of you, her hands gliding over your flushed skin. "Let's see if Wanda's magic can match my skills, hm?"

Natasha's touch was expert, her hands and lips exploring every inch of your body with practiced ease. She knew exactly how to drive you to the edge, her competitive nature pushing her to outdo Wanda. Your body still trembled from your previous orgasm, and Natasha could feel the residual pleasure radiating from your skin.

"God, you're so sensitive.." Natasha murmured, her lips brushing your ear. Her fingers found their way to your core, her touch firm and insistent. Your breath hitched, your body arching into Natasha's hand. The other hand cupped your breast, her thumb teasing the sensitive nipple. Your moans grew louder, your body eagerly responding to Natasha's touch.

Wanda watched, her eyes dark with desire and a hint of jealousy again. She could see your pleasure building, and she didn't want Natasha to win so easily. With a wave of her hand, Wanda's magic slowed down every sensation for you.

Natasha noticed the change, her eyes narrowing. "Cheating, Wanda? I thought you were better than that." Natasha's touch became more insistent, her fingers moving in a rhythm that had you writhing and gasping. "Come for me, Y/n, let us show her." Natasha whispered, and your body tensed, your mind lost in a haze of pleasure and ecstasy. With one final, shuddering cry, you came again, your orgasm even more intense than the last. Natasha held you close, her touch gentle as you rode the waves of pleasure.

As your breath began to steady, Natasha slowly withdrew, her eyes meeting Wanda's with a mix of satisfaction and challenge. "Top that."

Wanda's magic shimmered again, and this time, she conjured a Dick for herself, her eyes gleaming with anticipation. Natasha's eyes darkened with lust and competition. Wanda's magic pulsed once more, and Natasha also felt the transformation, a hard, throbbing length appearing between her legs. "You're welcome, Romanoff."

Your eyes widened, your body trembling with anticipation and a hint of fear. "W-Wait..! I n-need a break.." Wanda's hand caressed your cheek, her touch soothing. "Oh, but we're just getting started."

She positioned herself behind you, her hands firm on your hips. "Deep breaths, sweetheart." She eased in slowly, her length filling you inch by inch. You gasped, your body tensing at the sensation, "Relax.." Wanda murmured, her voice a soothing purr. "You can take it."

Natasha watched, her eyes dark with desire as she stroked herself, waiting for her turn again. Wanda began to move, her thrusts slow and measured, each one driving you closer to the edge. Your moans filled the room, your body responding eagerly to her movements.

"She's so tight," Wanda groaned, her pace quickening "feels so fucking good!" Natashas desire flared, and she moved closer, her hand joining Wandas on your body. "Hurry up, Wanda."

Wanda's thrusts became more urgent, her competitive spirit driving her to push you to new heights of pleasure. Your cries grew louder, your body writhing with each powerful movement. Her hands gripped your hips firmly, her nails digging into the soft flesh,

"C-Come on, sweetheart.." Wanda urged, "I want to feel you come around me.." Your breath hitched, your body teetering on the edge, "I can't..it's too much- o-oh my god!!"

Wanda's magic flared, amplifying every sensation coursing through your body. "You can do it. Just let go.." With a final, powerful thrust, Wanda sent you over the edge for the third time.. Your body convulsed, your cries echoing through the room as you were overwhelmed by a powerful orgasm.

As your breathing began to steady, Wanda slowly withdrew, her eyes meeting Natashas, "Ya chuvstvuyu sebya khorosho segodnya, davay porabotayem vmeste." (I feel good today, let's work together.)

You just notice how suddenly two more eyes are looking at you. "Let's see how you handle both of us."

Hours passed, and the two of them took turns over and over. The sensation was overwhelming, each thrust driving you closer to the edge. Your cries grew louder, your body a trembling bundle of pleasure and ecstasy.

With one final, shuddering cry, you came again. Your body convulsing with the intensity of your orgasm. Wanda and Natasha moved in perfect harmony, their own pleasure building as they drove you to new heights.

As they reached their peak, Wanda and Natasha moaned together, their release mixing as they filled you with their fluids. Your body shuddered, your cries echoing through the room as you were pushed over the edge one last time.

Breathless and exhausted, Natasha and Wanda collapsed beside you, their rivalry temporarily forgotten in the face of their shared victory.

"We'll call it a draw.." murmured Natasha, her voice exhausted. Wanda nodded, a satisfied smile on her lips. "For now." You lay between them, your body shaking from the aftereffects of the pleasure. You could barely speak, your mind overwhelmed by the intensity of the experience.

They both smiled, their hands gently caressing your flushed skin. "Just wait until next time.." Natasha whispered, her voice full of promise and Wanda's eyes sparkling with anticipation. "Next time there will be a clear winner."