#but it's looking more and more like he wants the new contract now??

[scarletwinterxx]

Every second from now I'm gonna love you completely - dad jaehyun scenario

helloooo ~ maybe i've been missing jaehyun a bit more these past few days so i wrote this. if you're new here or been here for a while🤣 my first ever series i wrote was a dad jaehyun au, it's like my first born. when i wrote that i was still trying to find my writing style, all i know was i wanted to write it. so excuse my mistakes there haha but in case you haven't read it or want to re-read it, click here !!

sooo yea, i have a few more stories lined up. thank you all sooooo much for the love🤍

For my other works you can check them out here, and for my other story series’ you can check them out here.

All works are copyrighted ©scarletwinterxx 2025. Do not repost, re-write without the permission of author.

(pic not mine, credits to rightful owner)

It’s a lazy Sunday afternoon, and you’re sitting on the couch, flipping through a book, when Jaeyoon, your husband’s carbon copy, plops down beside you with a loud sigh.

You glance at him. “What’s up, baby?”

Jaeyoon props his chin on his hands. “Mom, can I ask you something?”

You smile knowingly. “You’re always asking me something, Jaeyoon.”

He grins, then immediately launches into his first question. “If a fish gets thirsty, does it drink water?”

You blink. “Uh… technically, yes. But freshwater fish absorb water through their skin, and saltwater fish drink water through their mouths.”

Jaeyoon’s eyes widen. “Woah. So fishes are just drinking and absorbing all the time?”

You chuckle. “Pretty much.”

He nods like he’s processing something groundbreaking. Then—“Okay, next question.”

You raise an eyebrow. “There’s more?”

“Do clouds get tired from floating all day?”

You stare at him for a second before bursting into laughter. “Jaeyoon, where do you come up with these?”

Jaeyoon shrugs, completely serious. “I just think about them.”

You shake your head, pulling him into your arms. Your once little newborn now here having the most random conversions with but you won’t have it any other way.

“You have the biggest brain.” you mumble against his hair

Jaeyoon grins, cuddling into your side. “And I have one more question.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Last one?”

“Last one,” he promises. Then, looking up at you with those big, curious eyes, he asks

“Why do you love me so much?”

Your heart melts on the spot. You hug him even tighter, pressing a kiss to his forehead. “Because you’re you, Jaeyoon. You and your sister is my heart beating outside my chest, you’re the best parts of mom and dad”

Jaeyoon sighs happily, snuggling closer. “That’s a good answer, Mom”

You smile. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” He yawns. “Okay, I’m done asking for now.”

You smirk, stroking his hair. “For now?”

But Jaeyoon doesn’t answer—he’s already drifting off, safe and warm in your arms. And you know that tomorrow, and every day after that, there will be a million more questions.

A few hours later, the sky is darker outside. Jaehyun is sitting in his home office, fingers gliding over his laptop keyboard as he reviews a contract. It’s the weekend but he’s trying to catch up on some work after taking a family vacation. The room is quiet except for the occasional clicking of his mouse—until the door swings open without a knock.

Jaeyoon, his youngest who is now 5, marches in “Appa, what are you doing?”

Jaehyun doesn’t even look up. “Working.”

The little man who looks just like him pads closer, tilting his head. “What kind of working?”

Jaehyun sighs, glancing at his mini me. It’s like whenever he looks at his son he sees himself, something you always say is unfair but still love completely

“CEO work.”

Jaeyoon gasps dramatically. “Woah. That sounds so important.”

“It is.” he chuckles at his son’s amusement at such a mundane adult thing. 

Instead of leaving, Jaeyoon clambers onto Jaehyun’s lap, making himself very comfortable. Jaehyun automatically moves his arm to keep the documents from getting messed up, but he doesn’t protest.

Jaeyoon peers at the screen. “What’s that?”

“A contract.”

“What’s a contract?”

“A business agreement.”

“What’s an agreement?”

Jaehyun sighs through a chuckle. “When two people decide on something together.”

Jaeyoon nods like that makes total sense. Then, after a beat he speaks again “Can I type?”

Jaehyun lifts an eyebrow. “Depends. Are you going to send my company into chaos?”

Jaeyoon beams. “Maybe!”

Jaehyun shakes his head but moves his laptop slightly so Jaeyoon can reach the keyboard. “Okay, go ahead.”

Jaeyoon excitedly taps a few random letters: hgfldj.

“Wow,” Jaehyun says, nodding seriously. “That’s some next-level business strategy.”

Jaeyoon grins. “I’m a CEO too now.”

“Yeah?” Jaehyun leans back. “What’s your company called?”

Jaeyoon thinks for a moment, then dramatically announces, “Jaeyoon’s Snack Empire!”

Jaehyun laughs. “Sounds like a profitable business.”

“Yep. We sell ice cream, barbecue and cookies.”

“Smart.” Jaehyun grins. “I’d invest.”

Jaeyoon gasps. “Really?”

“But I want 50% of the company.”

Jaeyoon narrows his eyes. “Appa, that’s too much!”

Jaehyun smirks “Negotiation. That’s part of being a CEO too.”

Jaeyoon groans dramatically, sliding off Jaehyun’s lap and climbing onto his desk instead. “This is so hard.”

Jaehyun just chuckles, adjusting his laptop. “Welcome to my world, buddy.”

Jaeyoon sighs but doesn’t leave, now playing with a paperweight on the desk. Jaehyun lets him, continuing to work as his little boy fidgets and chats about everything. And even though Jaehyun is busy, he doesn’t mind at all because no matter how important his work is—his little CEO-in-training will always be more important.

Chaeyoon bursts through the front door, kicking off her sneakers without much care. Her backpack slides off her shoulder as she yells, “Mom! You won’t believe what happened today!”

You glance up from the kitchen counter, where you’re slicing fruit for Jaeyoon’s afternoon snack. Your five-year-old son is sitting on a stool, swinging his legs while munching on a cookie.

“What happened, sweetheart?” you ask, wiping your hands on a towel.

Chaeyoon drops her backpack with a thud, walking over with wide eyes, as if she’s about to share the most shocking news of the year. “A boy—Mom, a boy—asked me to get ice cream with him after school.”

You blink, taking a second to process. “Oh?”

Jaeyoon gasps dramatically beside you. “Noona, are you getting married?!”

Chaeyoon groans. “Jaeyoon, no! It’s just ice cream!”

You bite back a smile, setting the knife down. “So, who is this boy?” you ask, keeping your tone light

Chaeyoon sighs, pushing her hair back. “His name is Minho. He’s in my class. We sit next to each other in science, and I guess we’re kinda friends?” She pauses, then adds, “But I didn’t say yes yet.”

“Why not?” you ask curiously.

She frowns. “I dunno. It felt... weird?”

Jaeyoon leans closer, eyes shining. “Did he say you’re pretty?”

Chaeyoon glares at him. “I’m not talking to you about this.”

You chuckle, running a hand through her hair despite her protests. “Well, I think it’s sweet that he asked. Do you want to go?”

She hesitates. “Maybe? But also... I don’t know what Dad would say.”

Ah. There it is.

Jaehyun, your loving but sometimes very overprotective husband, has always been a little sensitive when it comes to his little girl growing up.

And you can already imagine his reaction.

You smile, wiping your hands on a dish towel as you watch your daughter shift nervously. “Well,” you say casually, “if you want to go, then you can tell your dad. I’m sure he’ll say yes.”

Chaeyoon’s eyes widen in pure betrayal. “Mom!”

Jaeyoon giggles beside you. “Appa is gonna explode!”

You laugh, ruffling your son’s hair before turning back to Chaeyoon. “Sweetheart, your dad never says no to you. If you tell him, I bet he’ll—” you pause, thinking of Jaehyun’s usual soft spot for his kids, “—well, I’m pretty sure he’ll say yes.”

The truth is, even you aren’t entirely sure how Jaehyun will react to this one. He can’t say no when Chaeyoon asks for another bedtime story or when Jaeyoon wants to sleep in your bed after a nightmare. He folds instantly when they give him their puppy-dog eyes.

But this? His little girl being asked out for ice cream by a boy? This might be the one thing that actually shakes him.

Chaeyoon huffs, crossing her arms. “You just want to see what he says.”

You grin, leaning on the counter. “Maybe a little.”

Jaeyoon claps excitedly. “I wanna tell Appa! I wanna see his face!”

Chaeyoon groans, but she’s laughing, too. “I should just say no and avoid this whole thing.”

You tilt your head. “Is that what you want?”

She hesitates, then sighs. “No. I think I wanna go.”

“Then you should tell your dad,” you say simply, enjoying this way more than you should

Just as you say that, the front door opens, and Jaehyun walks in, loosening his tie with one hand. “I’m home,” he calls out, his voice warm but tired from the workday.

Jaeyoon immediately jumps down from his stool and runs to him. “Appa! Noona has big news!”

You bite your lip to keep from laughing as Chaeyoon groans again. “Jaeyoon!”

Jaehyun raises an eyebrow, looking between the two of them before his eyes land on you. “Big news?” he repeats, stepping further inside.

You give Chaeyoon a small smile. “Go on, sweetheart. Tell him.”

And as she shifts nervously, you watch Jaehyun. He’s completely unaware that his world is about to be shaken.

Jaehyun’s brows furrow slightly as he looks at Chaeyoon. “What’s going on?”

Chaeyoon groans, shifting on her feet. “Ugh, this is so embarrassing…” She glances at you for help, but you simply smile and motion for her to go on.

Jaeyoon, impatient as ever, blurts out, “A boy asked Noona to eat ice cream with him!”

Silence.

Jaehyun blinks. Once. Twice.

Then, very slowly, he turns to Chaeyoon. “What?”

Chaeyoon groans again, covering her face. “Ugh, I knew this was going to be a thing.”

Jaehyun stays completely still, processing. You watch as his jaw tenses ever so slightly, and you swear you see his fingers twitch like he’s fighting the urge to tighten his tie again. You bite your lip, thoroughly enjoying this.

Jaehyun clears his throat. “So… a boy.”

Chaeyoon nods reluctantly.

Jaehyun continues, “And he asked you to get ice cream?”

Another slow nod. Jaehyun blinks again, still looking like his brain is buffering. Then, he shifts his gaze to you, as if asking for backup.

You shrug innocently. “I told her if she wants to go, she should ask you.”

His eyes narrow slightly. He knows exactly what you’re doing.

Jaeyoon tugs at Jaehyun’s sleeve. “Appa, are you okay? Your face looks weird.”

Jaehyun exhales slowly, rubbing a hand down his face. Then, after a long pause, he looks at Chaeyoon again. “Who is this boy?”

“Minho,” she mutters.

“Minho,” Jaehyun repeats, like he’s committing the name to memory for later investigation. “How old is he?”

“He’s in my class, Dad.”

Jaehyun nods, still processing. Then, in a very calm but very careful voice, he asks, “And why does he want to take you out for ice cream?”

Chaeyoon shrugs. “I don’t know. Maybe because we’re friends? And he likes ice cream?”

Jaehyun exhales again, then finally looks at you. Help me, his eyes plead.

But you just smile sweetly. “So? Can she go?”

His lips part like he wants to say no. You know he wants to say no. But this is Chaeyoon, his baby girl. The same baby girl who used to sit on his lap and call him her prince. The same one who still kisses his cheek before bed. And as much as he wants to protest, Jaehyun has never been able to say no to her.

He sighs, finally dropping his shoulders. “Is he coming here?”

Chaeyoon shakes her head. “We were just gonna meet there after school.”

Jaehyun nods slowly. “Fine. But—” he raises a finger, his CEO voice slipping through, “—I want to meet him first.”

Chaeyoon groans but smiles. “I knew you were gonna say that.”

Jaeyoon pumps his fists. “Noona’s going on a date!”

“It’s not a date!”

Jaehyun mutters under his breath, “It better not be.”

And as you watch him struggle between being a protective dad and trying to respect Chaeyoon’s growing independence, you can’t help but laugh.

Jaehyun shoots you a look. “You set me up.”

You grin. “Maybe a little.”

Later that night, after the kids are asleep, you and Jaehyun finally crawl into bed. The room is dimly lit, the soft glow of the bedside lamp casting warm shadows across the walls.

Jaehyun lets out a deep sigh as he sinks into the mattress, rubbing a hand down his face. “Today was… a lot.”

You chuckle, turning to your side to face him. “Oh, you mean finding out your baby girl is growing up and might actually hang out with a boy?”

Jaehyun groans dramatically, throwing an arm over his eyes. “Don’t remind me.”

You laugh, scooting closer and resting your head against his shoulder. “You survived.”

“Barely,” he mutters.

You trail a finger along his arm, feeling the tension still lingering in his muscles. “You know, you are going to have to deal with this eventually. She’s not always going to be your little girl.”

Jaehyun removes his arm from his face, turning his head to look at you. “She’ll always be my little girl.”

You smile softly. “I know, but she’s also getting older. And you can’t scare away every boy who looks at her.”

He smirks. “Wanna bet?”

You laugh, swatting at his arm. “Jae”

He sighs again, rolling onto his side so he’s facing you. “I just… I know she’s smart, and I trust her. But the thought of some boy liking her—of her liking him back—it makes me insane.”

You gently brush a strand of hair from his forehead. “Because you don’t want to let her go.”

Jaehyun exhales, his eyes softening. “Yeah.”

You press a kiss to his forehead. “You don’t have to. She’ll always need you, just in different ways.”

He wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you closer. “You always know what to say.”

You grin. “That’s why you married me.”

Jaehyun chuckles, his grip tightening slightly. “One day, some boy is going to look at Chaeyoon the way I look at you.”

Your heart warms at his words, but you also see the slight panic in his eyes. You press your palm against his cheek, making him meet your gaze. “And when that day comes, you’ll be okay. Because you’ve shown her what real love looks like.”

He stares at you for a moment before exhaling and burying his face in your neck. “You’re too good at this.”

You laugh, running your fingers through his hair. “I just know my husband.”

Jaehyun hums against your skin. “Remind me to keep Jaeyoon small forever. I can’t handle two of them growing up.”

You smile, pressing a kiss to his temple. “Good luck with that.”

He tightens his hold around you, as if holding onto this moment—onto you, onto the family you’ve built together. And even though you know he’ll always be a little overprotective, a little reluctant to let go, you also know that no matter what, Jaehyun will always, always be the best dad to your kids.

You’re still wrapped up in Jaehyun’s arms, the warmth of his body keeping you perfectly comfortable, when you suddenly feel something or someone climbing onto the bed.

A small hand pats your cheek. “Mom.”

You groan softly, burying your face into Jaehyun’s chest. “Mm… too early, baby.”

Jaeyoon isn’t deterred. He pats your cheek again, more insistent this time. “Mom. Appa.”

Jaehyun grumbles lowly, his grip on you tightening as he tries to stay asleep. “Five more minutes, buddy.”

Jaeyoon ignores him completely. “Noona is going on a date today.”

Both you and Jaehyun immediately open your eyes.

Jaehyun sits up so fast that Jaeyoon nearly topples over. “It’s not a date!” he says, voice still groggy but fully alert now.

Jaeyoon giggles, climbing onto his lap. “But Appa, they’re getting ice cream.”

Jaehyun exhales, running a hand down his face. “Why does this feel worse when you say it like that?”

You stifle a laugh, sitting up as well. “Sweetheart, did you come in here just to remind us?”

Jaeyoon nods enthusiastically. “Uh-huh. And also because I’m hungry.”

Jaehyun groans, flopping back onto the bed. “This family is going to be the death of me.”

You laugh, pressing a kiss to his cheek before turning to Jaeyoon. “Alright, let’s get you some breakfast.”

Jaeyoon claps happily and slides off the bed. But before he leaves, he turns to Jaehyun with a mischievous grin. “Appa, what if Noona kisses Minho?”

Jaehyun sits up again. “That’s not happening!”

Jaeyoon giggles and sprints out of the room before Jaehyun can say anything else.

You shake your head, laughing as you reach for Jaehyun’s hand. “You okay, babe?”

He groans, throwing himself back onto the pillows. “No. I need coffee. And maybe therapy.”

You chuckle, tugging him up. “Come on, big guy. Let’s get through today first.”

Jaehyun sighs dramatically, but when he looks at you, there’s warmth in his eyes. “Only because you’re here.”

You smile, squeezing his hand. “Always.”

Later after school, you’re in the living room with Jaeyoon who’s sprawled out on the floor, coloring in his favorite book. He hums a little tune as he draws, completely unbothered by the fact that his Noona isn’t home yet.

You, on the other hand, are very aware of the time. Not because you’re worried but because you know who will be. Right on cue, the front door opens. Jaehyun steps inside, immediately loosening his tie and checking his watch. Again.

You don’t even get the chance to greet him before he says, “What time did you say Chaeyoon was coming home?”

You smirk. “I didn’t say.”

Jaehyun lets out a long sigh, kicking off his shoes. “It’s already past five.”

Jaeyoon looks up from his coloring. “Appa, you checked your watch like a hundred times.”

Jaehyun ignores him, turning to you instead. “Have you heard from her?”

You shake your head, amused. “She texted when she left school. She’s probably still with Minho.”

Jaehyun visibly clenches his jaw. “Still?”

You chuckle, patting the couch beside you. “Babe, relax.”

Jaehyun does not relax. Instead, he pulls out his phone, scrolling as if that will somehow make Chaeyoon text faster. “I should’ve picked her up.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Oh? And then what? Sat between them at the ice cream shop?”

Jaeyoon bursts into giggles. “Appa would’ve stared at Minho like this.” He scrunches up his face, narrowing his eyes into an intense glare.

You laugh. “That’s exactly how he’d look.”

Jaehyun groans, running a hand through his hair. “This isn’t funny.”

You reach over, tugging him down to sit beside you. “It’s a little funny.”

Jaehyun grumbles but lets you pull him close. He leans back against the couch, checking his watch again.

“She’ll be home soon,” you assure him. “And when she gets here, you can interrogate her all you want.”

Jaeyoon gasps dramatically. “Appa’s gonna use his CEO voice!”

Jaehyun huffs. “I am not.”

Jaeyoon grins. “Are too.”

Jaehyun doesn’t argue because maybe he is. Just a little. Just as Jaehyun is admiring Jaeyoon’s latest masterpiece, a crayon drawing of your family with an extra large version of himself. There’s the sound of the front door unlocking.

Jaehyun immediately checks his watch again.

You smirk. “See? She’s home at a perfectly reasonable time.” Jaehyun doesn’t respond. Instead, he stands up, crosses his arms, and waits.

Chaeyoon steps inside, setting her backpack down before kicking off her shoes. “I’m home!” she calls out casually.

Jaeyoon runs up to her, arms flailing. “Noona! Did you have your date?”

Chaeyoon groans. “It wasn’t a date, Jaeyoon.”

Jaehyun clears his throat. Loudly. Chaeyoon turns her head and there’s her dad. Standing in the middle of the living room, arms crossed, looking exactly how she expected him to.

She sighs, dragging her feet toward the couch. “Okay, let’s get this over with.”

Jaehyun raises an eyebrow. “Get what over with?”

“The interrogation.” She plops onto the couch, throwing her arms over the backrest. “Go ahead, Appa. Ask your many questions.”

Jaehyun doesn’t waste a second. “How long have you known him?”

“Like a year, we’re classmates”

“Why haven’t I heard about him before?”

She sighs. “Because you’re like this.”

Jaehyun ignores that. “Does he have good grades?”

Chaeyoon blinks. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“I need to know if he’s responsible.”

Chaeyoon groans. “Yes, Appa, he has good grades.”

Jaehyun narrows his eyes. “What did you talk about?”

“Ice cream. School. Normal stuff.”

“Did he—” Jaehyun’s expression turns even more serious. “—hold the door for you?”

Chaeyoon stares. “…Yes?”

Jaehyun exhales, nodding slowly. “Okay. That’s a start.”

You shake your head, fully entertained by this. Jaeyoon climbs onto the couch beside Chaeyoon. “Did you hold hands?”

Jaehyun immediately looks at her.

Chaeyoon gags. “EW. No.”

Jaehyun nods approvingly. “Good.”

Chaeyoon groans again. “Ugh, Appa, you’re so dramatic. It was just ice cream.”

Jaehyun eyes her for a moment before finally sighing, sitting down beside her. His posture softens a little. “I just want to make sure you’re safe.”

Chaeyoon leans against him with a small smile. “I know. And I promise, Minho is just a friend.”

Jaehyun lets out another deep breath, wrapping an arm around her. “Okay. But next time, I want to meet him.”

Chaeyoon pulls away, eyes wide. “Appa. No.”

Jaehyun shrugs. “I need to make sure he understands that you have a very intimidating father.”

Chaeyoon groans dramatically, flopping onto the couch. “You’re impossible.”

Jaeyoon grins, climbing onto Jaehyun’s lap. “Appa, when I get a girlfriend, you can meet her, okay?”

Jaehyun blinks. “What?”

You burst out laughing as Jaehyun looks like he’s about to have an entire crisis.

Chaeyoon smirks. “Yeah, Appa. You have two kids to worry about.”

Jaehyun groans, rubbing his temples. “I need another coffee.”

And as the kids giggle, and you lean into him with an affectionate smile, you realize you wouldn’t trade this chaotic, loving family for anything.

The call from Jaeyoon’s school comes in the middle of the afternoon. You answer, and the moment you hear the words "Jaeyoon had a little accident during an activity," your heart skips a beat. The teacher quickly reassures you that he’s okay ust a scraped knee and a little bump but you’re already grabbing your bag.

Jaehyun, who had just gotten home early from a meeting, notices the shift in your expression. “What’s wrong?”

You exhale. “Jaeyoon tripped at school. He’s hurt, but they said it’s not too bad.”

Jaehyun’s face hardens. “Let’s go.”

Within minutes, the two of you are in the car, driving to the school. Jaehyun grips the steering wheel tightly, jaw clenched. He doesn’t say much, but you can tell his mind is racing.

When you arrive at the nurse’s office, Jaeyoon is sitting on the little cot, his legs swinging as he stares down at his bandaged knee. His face is scrunched up in frustration. The moment he sees the both of you, his lips press together in a thin line, and he immediately sits up straighter.

“Hey, buddy,” Jaehyun says softly, crouching down to his level. “What happened?”

Jaeyoon crosses his arms. “I tripped during the race.” His voice is a little wobbly, but he clears his throat, blinking rapidly. “But I’m okay. I didn’t cry.”

You exchange a glance with Jaehyun before sitting beside Jaeyoon. “It’s okay if you want to, sweetheart.”

Jaeyoon shakes his head stubbornly. “Big boys don’t cry.”

Jaehyun sighs, reaching out to pull Jaeyoon into his arms. And the moment he does, Jaeyoon completely melts  He buries his face in Jaehyun’s chest, his small fingers gripping onto his father’s shirt. A choked little sob escapes him, and then, suddenly, he’s really crying.

Jaehyun just holds him tighter, one hand cradling the back of his head. “It’s okay, buddy. You can cry.”

Jaeyoon sniffles, his tiny shoulders trembling. “I tried so hard, Appa.”

“I know,” Jaehyun whispers, rubbing his back. “And you’re still the bravest boy I know.”

Jaeyoon clings to him, sobbing softly. Jaehyun doesn’t rush him, doesn’t tell him to stop he just lets him feel everything, lets him be small in this moment.

You stroke Jaeyoon’s hair gently. “You know… being strong doesn’t mean not crying. It means getting back up even when you’re hurt.”

Jaeyoon sniffles, pulling back slightly to look up at Jaehyun. “Really?”

Jaehyun nods, wiping a stray tear from his cheek. “Really. And you did get back up, didn’t you?”

Jaeyoon nods hesitantly. “Yeah…”

Jaehyun smiles, kissing the top of his head. “Then you’re the strongest boy I know.”

Jaeyoon lets out a little hiccup, then slowly finally smiles. “Okay.”

You and Jaehyun exchange a soft look, hearts swelling with love for your little boy.

And as Jaehyun lifts Jaeyoon into his arms, holding him close all the way to the car, you know no matter how big he gets, Jaeyoon will always have a place to feel safe.

The drive home is peaceful, the soft hum of the car engine filling the quiet night. Jaeyoon and Chaeyoon are completely knocked out in the backseat, their heads tilted at awkward angles, mouths slightly open.

Jaehyun glances at them through the rearview mirror and smirks. “Didn’t even last five minutes.”

You chuckle, watching Jaeyoon’s little chest rise and fall steadily. “I knew Jaeyoon would fall asleep fast, but Chaeyoon too? She must’ve been really full.”

Jaehyun shakes his head fondly. “She tried to act like she wasn’t, but I saw her struggling with that last piece of meat.”

You laugh softly, resting your head against the car window. The streetlights blur past, casting a warm glow over the quiet city. The moment feels so calm—just the two of you, with your babies fast asleep in the back.

Jaehyun exhales, one hand still on the wheel, the other casually resting on his lap. “Feels like just yesterday they were tiny.”

You smile, your heart swelling at the memories. “I know… Remember when Chaeyoon was born? We had no idea what we were doing.”

Jaehyun lets out a low chuckle. “You figured things out fast. I was freaking out every five seconds.”

“You were not.”

“I was.” He shakes his head, eyes still on the road. “I was scared to even hold her at first. She was so small.”

You glance back at your daughter, now twelve, long legs curled up on the seat. “She’s not so small anymore.”

Jaehyun sighs. “No, she’s not.”

There’s a beat of silence before he smiles softly. “Jaeyoon, though… That boy came into this world yelling.”

You laugh, covering your mouth to keep quiet. “Oh, God, he was so loud. The nurse literally said, ‘Wow, this one has a lot to say.’”

Jaehyun grins. “And she was right. He hasn’t stopped talking since.”

You sigh, glancing out the window. “Sometimes I wish we could go back. Just for a little while. Hold them when they were tiny again.”

Jaehyun reaches over, taking your hand in his and squeezing gently. “I know.” His voice is soft, full of understanding. “But we’re still here. Still watching them grow.”

You smile, lacing your fingers with his. “And freaking out over ice cream dates.”

Jaehyun groans, tilting his head back. “Don’t remind me.”

You laugh, squeezing his hand. “You’ll survive, babe.”

He glances at you with a smirk. “Will I?”

You grin, leaning over to kiss his cheek. “Of course.”

Jaehyun chuckles, eyes crinkling as he pulls into your driveway. “As long as I have you.”

And as you sit there, watching your babies sleep peacefully in the backseat, you realize—these moments, the quiet ones, the ordinary ones—are the ones that make life so beautiful.

[nerdieforpedro]

Not made of Glass

Part Seven of A Safe Place for Us Series

My entire masterlist and blog are for readers 18+ MDNI. I do not consent to my work being used in AI, recommended on TikTok, borrowed or plagiarized.

Summary: Decisions about where to live are made and Dieter starts the “daddy” jokes. Sort of. The pair discuss states of health.

Warnings: Domestic conversations, various dirty talk (utter filth - I’m only 20% sorry), talk of children, talk of health conditions and disparities, feelings, unprotected p in v, aftercare

Word Count: about 2.1k

Notes: The daddy and momma thing won’t be that much of a thing. I tried it, it was funny but won’t be a recurring joke. I promise though I do think if Dieter did stick to it, he would be insufferable 😩 The horror.

Main Masterlist/ Dieter Bravo Masterlist/ AO3 Link

A small bodega serves coffee, bagels, sandwiches and assording baked goods based on the day of the week. It’s near a top floor condo that Dieter and Aisha are looking at today. It’s two days after finding out the life changing news, the expectant parents are still looking at different places on Aisha’s insistence. She made sure that the OBGYN she saw sent her tests and information to her home doctor, though she was considering moving here. The writer is curious about living in New York most of the time and being in Los Angeles when needed. She enjoys the thought of just taking the subway to a broadway show or the museum. Dieter is already talking about a house outside of the city, something he hasn’t mentioned before. The realtor is as confused as Aisha is but they both look through some listings until Dieter says it was the one he dreamed about. The home in question is a brick with a white roof and a yellow mailbox out front.

“It’s cute but it’s not in the city.” That’s Aisha’s response but Bravo convinces her to sleep on it and that they can talk about it tomorrow. The small meal consisting and sandwiches, water, tea and two pieces of chocolate cake makes her want this condo more.

Even when they get back to the hotel and attempt to relax, she still thinks about the high ceilings that would be excellent for natural light, working on some drafts and maybe watching Dee paint. That night, despite knowing that she’s only two or three months along at best, Dieter insists on laying his head on her belly. It’s in a series of moments that he never thought would come to pass. Humming ‘twinkle twinkle little star,’ he hears laughter that he’s become accustomed to hearing much more often.

“I liked the place near the little bodega. You could paint there and I can watch while I write. Plus I don’t know about maintaining a yard Dee.” Aisha’s fingertips massage his scalp while he lets a a short purr inturrpting his song. “We’ll go see this brick house though, it might be too much room.”

“Not too much room if we decide to have more children. Plus there will need to be room for Cookie.” He looks up and she knows he’s referring to his goat but he treats the pet like any dog or cat. Giggling, Aisha nods until she fully processes what he’s said, ‘more children.’ It was written in the contract they both signed. She’d never pictured herself with more than one. It led to her next question,

“Dieter how many children do you want to have? You know I’m-“ Bravo slides up the bed, shirtless and in his favorite Hugo Boss boxer briefs.

“I know, and it’s your fault. Now I’m a father and think about giving our current bun other future buns to play with.” The scruff of his patchy beard tickles her neck and then cheek as he peppers her neck and chest with kisses. “Now I get to call you sexy mama.”

“Dieter you’re so goofy.” Aisha’s hands runs along Dieter’s soft sides, feeling his warm skin. “I don’t hate you calling me mama though. I’m not sure if I’ll get used to calling you daddy. It feels like a weird fanfic prompt.” She releases a moan as Dieter moves between her legs and grinds his hips into hers.

“Let me hear it. Say, ‘give it to me daddy.’ Just for me.” He grins while he watches’s her eyebrows furrow from lifting her hips off the bed. His next line is cooed into her ear, “Tell me that you want daddy to fuck you sexy mama. Feel how wet your for me with my baby inside of you.” Dieter reaches down to slip out of his boxers and then raises the hem of Aisha’s nightgown. He catches her scent and when he runs the head of his cock along her folds, she’s already soaked. “I’ll keep the mother of my child wet, stuffed and happy. It’s what daddy’s supposed to do, aren’t I?” Aisha’s response isn’t with words, she reached down and guides the head of Dieter’s cock to her entrance and slides him in.

“You’re right Dee. That is daddy’s job. Give me daddy’s thick dick so mama can milk it since I want my walls painted.” Bravo doesn’t move his hips yet, he lets Aisha keep griding upward.

“Fuck baby…so damn good. Definitely at least one more kid after this one. I won’t be able to stay out of this pussy.” He interlocks his hands with hers and gives slow shallow thrusts. There’s no call times, no early appointments, just the two of them in their hotel room enjoying each other’s bodies. There’s no rush at all. “You only want the one or you open to more Aisha?” He presses his chest to hers, not set on forcing her into the mattress yet. Her eyes flutter and she looks up at him. Dieter’s watching her like he always does whenever they have sex, though recently there had been more slow sessions like this. Making love - that much Aisha is sure of.

“I’m open to having another one, but let’s see how this one goes. I’m not even past the first trimester. W-Wait, there Dee…again!” She widens her legs to allow him deeper, he’d found that extra sensitive spot within her fleshy canal and was hitting it with each slow stroke. She knew he wouldn’t go any faster, not right now. Bravo smirks a hits again twice before purposefully changing the angle to miss it and hear her hiss. He kisses her lips and ensure to hit it again to have her whine into his mouth.

“That’s fair Ai, and I think despite it being outside the city, you’ll like those house. We’ll have room to grow into it.” The smirk remains on his face as he waiting her out, he wants her to ask him to speed up, be rougher. It’s a game he may have started a few weeks ago. Dieter notes that Aisha is trying to release his hands and putting her feet flat into the matress to have him go deeper with his cock.

“You enjoy making me ask. It’s mean, but fine. I want it harder Dee. You’re supposed to be keeping mama satisfied aren’t you daddy?” The giggle is from this wordplay he started, it isn’t bad just weird as he releases her hands and wraps the around the back of his neck.

“Of course sexy mama. Your wish is my command.” Dieter winks as he takes a handful each of her ample hips beginning to piston into her, now with his goal of dipping her into the mattress. Her previous soft moans were replaced by deep groans and his grunts. They both climaxed quickly from their slow buildup and after washing up afterward laid in bed naked, facing each other under the blankets.

“Think we can put a pause on the mama and daddy thing? I gotta get used to that. It was weird.” Aisha admits and Dieter agrees. She snuggles up next to him and he wraps his arms around her.

“I didn’t think you’d play into it so hard.”

“I’m just glad you weren’t too serious about it.”

“You know what I am serious about though?” Aisha looks up as Dieter draws some circles into her back. She tilts her head and hums waiting for an answer.

“Because you’re worried about how this pregnancy can go and I’m worried about you, no matter where we live, we’re having a certified midwife checking in on you in addition to your follow up appointments. It’s non-negotiable.” It’s a stipulation that Dieter had mentioned before as well. It isn’t that Aisha didn’t appreciate it, she did immensely. That he cared about her being healthy along with the baby, but to be watched in her own home. Well soon to be their home, it would be a bit much for her.

“They’ll come for visits right? It won’t be like a live in nurse, someone watching me 24/7 is too much Dee.” Aisha attempts to get up and out of the bed to wash up but Dieter quickly rises with her and sits on the bed next to her.

“You know it’s not just because I have the money to do so right? It’s not a flex or something Aisha. We’re both older, and even though I know you have a clean bill of health and so do I, so many things can go wrong. It’s dangerous.” Aisha stands and walks to the bathroom and begins to wash up with Bravo nearly on her heels. “Are you listening to me?”

“I hear you dammit!” Her yell has her looking at Dieter surprised, both at him and herself. She didn’t expect to get so worked up over it. More than anyone, Aisha knows due to her research and appointments how dangerous pregnancy can be for any woman, let alone, a black woman and her first pregnancy is at age 35. It’s what she was cautioned against even though the only unhealthy thing about her was her weight. No other lifestyle risk factors. She finishes washing and cleans her hands before leaning against the counter, she can’t look at Dieter’s face in the mirror, he looks hurt.

“I didn’t mean to yell Dee. I know that despite everything, my age and race puts me in the high risk category. I just….” She pulls him close and lays her head on his chest. “Just want to enjoy the pregnancy. It might be my only one, we don’t know. So just stay in the moment with me okay? I know there’s things we need to watch out for and I do love that you’re being this protective of me.” She kisses his chest before rubbing his back, more to soothed herself than him while he cups the back of her head. “Please let’s just enjoy it.”

“Okay. I’ll still worry though. I want to have you and the kid you know?” Dieter kisses her forehead and they lay back down in bed to sleep for the night. Aisha is awake long after Dieter’s called asleep still holding her, he’d brought up fears that she was hoping she’d buried. They’re still creeping in the edge of her mind when the drive out to the brick house Dieter had found.

It’s large, six bedrooms and five and a half bathrooms with a large room downstairs with plenty of light that Aisha says would make a good mini-atelier for Dieter to paint in. She found herself an office next to the master bedroom which is the size of her current apartment. Dieter describes making it a comfy place for her to sleep and nest. He read about nesting online and figured it might be fun for Aisha to try in a few months. She laughs and shakes her head but between the beautiful yard with landscaping and a small garden she can try and not kill plants in and it being in a gated community with the neighbors spread out but not too far away. She agrees to buy the house, with Dieter putting both their names on it.

Driving back into the city and eating at a small outdoor cafe, Aisha asks something else that’s been on her mind, after Dieter settles next to her at the small table. He brought a shawl despite her already wearing a thick red sweater with her navy skirt and red converses. She wanted to wear them while she still could. Dieter is comfy in one of his rainbow sweaters, purple lakers shirts and jeans. He kisses her cheek while they’re handed menus. “Um, how should we tell our families the news? There’s a lot.” Bravo laughs and so does Aisha knowing it’s going to be an entire mess to sort after being seen out in the open like this.

“We’ll tell them together and one piece at a time.” Is Dieter’s answer after they order the soup of the day: French Onion with extra cheese and plenty of bread to dip.

Their joy makes for a beautiful picture that pops up all over social media and the news. The headline: Oscar Winner Dieter Bravo and his longtime friend writer Aisha Smith seen out and about in New York? Are the rumors true? Have they crossed the line between friends?

It seems neither of them has to break the initial news to their families, the world did that. Dieter and Aisha only had to answer the specifics of to what extend had their relationship changed, which they agree would be done when they were comfortable with doing so.

Part Six Part Eight

Tagged peeps: @readingiskeepingmegoing @megamindsecretlair @soft-persephone @pedrostories @littlemisspascal @baronessvonglitter @nathanbatemanfucker

[cementcornfield]

the way i know it's taking everything in him not to say some ridiculous comment to the press rn 😭

[vettelcore]

i found put yesterday i can lift more than 60kg and my ego has never been bigger

[mckinlily]

Plot armor but it’s Bruce Wayne’s wealth.

Bruce is one of the richest men in the world. Bruce does not want to be one of the richest men in world.

He starts by implementing high starting salaries and full health care coverages for all levels at Wayne Enterprises. This in vastly improves retention and worker productivity, and WE profits soar. He increases PTO, grants generous parental and family leave, funds diversity initiatives, boosts salaries again. WE is ranked “#1 worker-friendly corporation”, and productively and profits soar again.

Ok, so clearly investing his workers isn’t the profit-destroying doomed strategy his peers claim it is. Bruce is going to keep doing it obviously (his next initiative is to ensure all part-time and contractors get the same benefits and pay as full time employees), but he is going to have to find a different way to dump his money.

But you know what else is supposed to be prohibitively expensive? Green and ethical initiatives. Yes, Bruce can do that. He creates and fund a 10 year plan to covert all Wayne facilities to renewable energy. He overhauls all factories to employ the best environmentally friendly practices and technologies. He cuts contracts with all suppliers that engage in unethical employment practices and pays for other to upgrade their equipment and facilities to meet WE’s new environmental and safety requirements. He spares no expense.

Yeah, Wayne Enterprises is so successful that they spin off an entire new business arm focused on helping other companies convert to environmentally friendly and safe practices like they did in an efficient, cost effective, successful way.

Admittedly, investing in his own company was probably never going to be the best way to get rid of his wealth. He slashes his own salary to a pittance (god knows he has more money than he could possibly know what to do with already) and keeps investing the profits back into the workers, and WE keeps responding with nearly terrifying success.

So WE is a no-go, and Bruce now has numerous angry billionaires on his back because they’ve been claiming all these measures he’s implementing are too expensive to justify for decades and they’re finding it a little hard to keep the wool over everyone’s eyes when Idiot Softheart Bruice Wayne has money spilling out his ears. BUT Bruce can invest in Gotham. That’ll go well, right?

Gotham’s infrastructure is the OSHA anti-Christ and even what little is up to code is constantly getting destroyed by Rogue attacks. Surely THAT will be a money sink.

Except the only non-corrupt employer in Gotham city is….Wayne Enterprises. Or contractors or companies or businesses that somehow, in some way or other, feed back to WE. Paying wholesale for improvement to Gotham’s infrastructure somehow increases WE’s profits.

Bruce funds a full system overhaul of Gotham hospital (it’s not his fault the best administrative system software is WE—he looked), he sets up foundations and trusts for shelters, free clinics, schools, meal plans, day care, literally anything he can think of.

Gotham continues to be a shithole. Bruce Wayne continues to be richer than god against his Batman-ingrained will.

Oh, and Bruice Wayne is no longer viewed as solely a spoiled idiot nepo baby. The public responds by investing in WE and anything else he owns, and stop doing this, please.

Bruce sets up a foundation to pay the college tuition of every Gotham citizen who applies. It’s so successful that within 10 years, donations from previous recipients more than cover incoming need, and Bruce can’t even donate to his own charity.

But by this time, Bruce has children. If he can’t get rid of his wealth, he can at least distribute it, right?

Except Dick Grayson absolutely refuses to receive any of his money, won’t touch his trust fund, and in fact has never been so successful and creative with his hacking skills as he is in dumping the money BACK on Bruce. Jason died and won’t legally resurrect to take his trust fund. Tim has his own inherited wealth, refuses to inherit more, and in fact happily joins forces with Dick to hack accounts and return whatever money he tries to give them. Cass has no concept of monetary wealth and gives him panicked, overwhelmed eyes whenever he so much as implies offering more than $100 at once. Damian is showing worrying signs of following in his precious Richard’s footsteps, and Babs barely allows him to fund tech for the Clocktower. At least Steph lets him pay for her tuition and uses his credit card to buy unholy amounts of Batburger. But that is hardly a drop in the ocean of Bruce’s wealth. And she won’t even accept a trust fund of only one million.

Jason wins for best-worst child though because he currently runs a very lucrative crime empire. And although he pours the vast, vast majority of his profits back into Crime Alley, whenever he gets a little too rich for his tastes, he dumps the money on Bruce. At this point, Bruce almost wishes he was being used for money laundering because then he’s at least not have the money.

So children—generous, kindhearted, stubborn till the day they die the little shits, children—are also out.

Bruce was funding the Justice League. But then finances were leaked, and the public had an outcry over one man holding so much sway over the world’s superheroes (nevermind Bruce is one of those superheroes—but the public can’t know that). So Bruce had to do some fancy PR trickery, concede to a policy of not receiving a majority of funds from one individual, and significantly decrease his contributions because no one could match his donations.

At his wits end, Bruce hires a team of accounts to search through every crinkle and crevice of tax law to find what loopholes or shortcuts can be avoided in order to pay his damn taxes to the MAX.

The results are horrifying. According to the strictest definition of the law, the government owes him money.

Bruce burns the report, buries any evidence as deeply as he can, and organizes a foundation to lobby for FAR higher taxation of the upper class.

All this, and Wayne Enterprises is happily chugging along, churning profit, expanding into new markets, growing in the stock market, and trying to force the credit and proportionate compensation on their increasingly horrified CEO.

Bruce Wayne is one of the richest men in the world. Bruce Wayne will never not be one of the richest men in the world.

But by GOD is he trying.

[sangwookisser]

⭒DUMMY - THANOS⭒

cw: slight bimbo! reader, name-calling, degrading, corruption kink, naive! reader, oral sex (m receiving), cum eating, dumbification, semi public sex (there's a camera in the room), hair pulling, dubcon

a/n: if this does well ill hopefully write a part two

Ever since you'd arrived to this shithole, Thanos had been on your case. He was sort of sleazy, flirting with any girl who'd look at him twice, but it was clear you were his favorite.

From Thanos' experience with women, most would act uninterested and secretly want him, or be uninterested and tell him to go fuck himself. Either way, he could probably get a clear read on them after one or two conversations. You, on the other hand, were impossible to decipher.

He'd never met someone as meek as you. You'd scurry away and lower your head if he so much as looked at you, you'd listen to his voice and be sure to avoid the location it was coming from, and you refused to respond to him. You just bowed and apologized and ran away.

Like a fawn.

He'd never been so fascinated by someone before. You had these huge doe eyes with long fucking lashes, and whenever he'd tease you too much, they'd get all wide and glassy and your lip would wobble, then you'd run away with your hands over your ears. He wasn't sure if you thought he was going to wring your neck the second you let your guard down or something, but shit, the way your eyes looked when they were red rimmed and watery, or how you'd look up at him and worry your plush lower lip between your teeth, God, it left a throbbing ache in his boxers.

It was a new morning, and he was just aching to come find you so he could tease you or pull your hair a bit to listen to the sounds you'd make, but to his surprise, you'd slept under your bed, curled into a ball with a pillow under your head. Holy shit, you were such a coward. He couldn't believe it.

You were still half asleep when you felt him pulling you out from under the bedframe, and your head lolled, your vision blurry and unadjusted to the light. His dick twitched with interest as he sat you upright in front of him, holding your arms so you couldn't run.

He brushed his hand over your smooth, silky hair, watching the way you shivered and looked like a lost baby animal. You were so soft, he thought. From how close he was sitting, he could see the little freckles dotted on your nose, small, but there, the way your lower lip was raw from your anxious biting, and the way your pupils slowly contracted as you focused your vision.

You whined anxiously, not understanding why he was examining you so closely.

"Why are you so scared of me, hm?" He asked softly, holding your face now, watching you, analyzing you.

You didn't speak, petrified, and he let out an annoyed sound, squeezing your face in his hands as you whimpered at the contact, your eyes filling with those stupid fucking tears as if on cue. He squeezed more, watching the way your lips squished together, pink and plush, like soft cherries. Fuck, he wanted a taste.

He leaned in...

"Hey man, are you going to the line for breakfast? We gotta hurry if we wanna get ahead of all these hungry bastards."

Thankfully, his friend came up behind him and startled both of you, making Thanos jump a bit. He's pissed out of his fucking mind as you take the opportunity to bolt, just like always. Thanos could punch something. He grunted and scowled at his friend, shooting you one last look before he stood up and roughly shoulder checked the idiot that made him lose you, as he stalked away with a scowl.

You walked into the spacious, circular room with trepidation, wringing your hands together. By now, a lot of the players had found teams or integrated themselves into tight knit groups, but you didn't fit in with any of them. Moreso, you didn't trust anyone here. You follow the crowd onto the platform and stand on one of the inner corners, hoping not to be jostled off and shoved to the ground.

The P.A. system announces a game called Mingle, where you're instructed to enter a room with a certain number of people before the timer goes down. Naturally, there's not enough rooms for everyone, and you figured a large chunk of people wouldn't make it out of here alive.

Anxiety overwhelmed you as you watched people whisper to one another, making strategies and alliances to ensure they can win the game. You had no one. You hugged yourself soothingly, failing to notice the way Thanos' eyes are trained on you.

You're pathetic. Anyone with a brain would start talking or kissing ass to try and find a group to join, but you just sort of gave up. You wouldn't speak, wouldn't ask for help. You just stood there and accepted your fate. He was so intent on watching your stupid little face scrunch up that he barely noticed the platform start to move and a song begin to play.

When the platform stopped suddenly and the announcer called for ten people, he gestured for his team to follow him before grabbing you by the forearm and instructing his friends to grab a few more people, while he pulled you to a room, holding you still. You looked up at him with surprise and worry, your big fucking eyes all glossy once more.

"What's wrong with you, huh?" He snaps. "Are you trying to get yourself killed? You didn't even fucking move, you're just standing there and waiting to get a bullet in your stupid little head." You whimper, hearing the lock click as Thanos' friends manage to collect enough people in time, while his attention remains on you. Your lip wobbles at the sound of him yelling at you, and he feels his blood heat up a little bit. Fuck, you get to him so much. He just wanted to kiss you, just once. Maybe bite your plump lips. Or put his cock between them.

"'M-mmf... s-sorry, I j-just di-didn't think-"

"Do you ever?" He interrupts you, poking your forehead hard enough for you to stumble, and you pant softly as you manage to catch your footing, your heart racing. "You just stand there all the time and bat your lashes like some stupid little doll. In case you haven't noticed, dummy, your life's on the line."

You nod quickly, the timer ending at the perfect moment as you're able to slide out of the room quickly before you had to endure any more berating comments from Thanos.

He followed you, though, grabbing onto the back of your tracksuit jacket, causing you to stumble back and be dragged along with him as he sets you in front of him in his arms as the music starts again.

The cycle continues.

Though you wouldn't say it out loud, you did feel a lot safer with Thanos herding you around like you were a puppy on a leash. You were guaranteed to find a room each time because he'd throw people out of the way to get to a vacant room first, and you'd be with him each and every time.

Until the last number was called. Two. He pulled you along by your wrist to a room, shoving stragglers out of his path and having no regrets about it, laughing as he locks you two in the cramped room together, the air stale and warm with the faint, unpleasant scent of blood from outside. The timer continues to go down.

"They'll probably have us in these rooms longer." he comments, looking at you as you tremble a bit, shaken and on edge, though you don't know if its because you're alone with him or because of the sound of screams and gunshots that will likely follow sooner than later.

"Wh-why?" You ask softly, and he scoffs, staring at you like he's looking at a misbehaved child. he stoops to your level, pinching your chin between his fingers to tip your head up, rendering your attempts to avoid eye contact futile.

"Because they gotta take longer to shoot everyone 'cause there's barely any rooms left. And they gotta clean up the blood after and sanitize the place."

"O-oh. Why can't they do it after?" You press further. You're not sure if you're so winded and overwhelmed that nothing makes sense to you right now and you feel the need to ask so many questions, but Thanos just seems to think you're the dumbest little thing in the world.

He scoffs and shakes his head lowly, pushing a thumb swiftly past your lips and pushing down on your tongue so any sound you make is muffled.

"Are you this stupid or are you talking just to talk? God, I had to shut up because you were giving me a migraine. That's why pretty bitches like you should just shut up and have your mouth stuffed all the time, because half of you are always dumb as rocks. Why would they do it after, dummy? They can't have dead bodies and blood everywhere and have us walking around in it."

You whimper at the degradation and cruel words, your brain going fuzzy at the salty taste of his digit around your tongue and the mixture of praise in his words. He called you pretty, didn't he? Pretty but dumb... you don't know what to say, and so you slobber a bit as he pushes it deeper, struggling to accommodate it into your mouth.

Thanos, on the other hand, is so focused on your sweet little face and the way your eyes go glassy as you get his thumb wet, the soft motion of your tongue gliding over his thumb turning his brain into mush. And then, he can't take it anymore. He pulls it out of your mouth, slapping your face lightly to keep you present, because he can already start to see you spacing.

"Get on your knees." He says roughly, pushing at your shoulders to guide you down into a kneeling position, and you didn't have it in you to resist.

He grabbed a handful of your pretty hair into his fist, not caring about how long he'd have until it was time to leave. He was tired of the bullshit coming out of your mouth, tired of your big fucking eyes and the way you'd bat your lashes at him and pout without even realizing the effect you had on him, tired of the way you got him so hot and made his cock swell and twitch without trying.

Even now, you stared up at him almost reverently, your eyes confused and so fucking innocent. God. He could only dream of the look on your face when he blows a fat load of cream on it. The thought made him more hard.

He shoved your face into his bulge, the thin fabric of his tracksuit pants doing little to obscure the feeling. You gasped, little hands holding onto his legs to keep yourself steady as he pants, rubbing himself against your face. You had no idea what was happening, and so you shut your eyes, muffled protests leaving your lips.

"Oh my God, shut up." Thanos snapped, glaring down at you. "Shut your dumb fucking mouth."

You tried to pull your head away, and he scowled, yanking your head away from his clothed bulge and staring down at you.

"Take my pants off." He snapped, and your eyes widened. Swallowing thickly, you tried to stand up for yourself. "Bu-but there's people outside," You jumped as shooting went off on cue, and your gaze turned to the door, your heart pounding at what may be going on outside, but he tugged your hair, making you look up at him once more.

"W-we don't know how long we'll be in here, an-and th-" You hiccupped, looking up at the shiny camera pointing down at the two of you, but he interrupted. "I said shut up. What part of that did you not understand? You're lucky I don't tear your clothes off and give whoever's watching a show." He manhandled you so his back was to the camera, blocking you from view.

"There, happy?"

You whined, a little wary, but you knew this was the best you'd get. "Now take my pants off. And my boxers. Now." He snapped, and your throat burned, your mind reeling as you began to peel off his pants, letting them drop to the ground, while your fingers curled around his boxers, pausing at the sight of his bulge. Thick and fat, with dewy moisture collecting at the top, the clear liquid spilling out of the tip.

You gulped again, pulling his boxers down too, causing his fat length to hit your cheek faintly before it stood to attention. You stared at in disbelief. The mushroom head was an angry red, while the shaft itself was thick, veiny, and long, and curved slightly to the left.

He must have thought you were stalling, as he pushed your head forward again. "Stop wasting time, kid. Suck on it."

You frown at the nickname, and hesitate. The sheer size and girth of his cock intimidated you, and you look back up at him weakly. He groans, running a hand down his face.

"Don't tell me you've never sucked dick before."

Your lip wobbles, and you shake your head, lost for words. He scoffs and pushes your face right up to his cock. "Lick the balls first, then the shaft, and then the tip, then get as much as you can in your mouth and suck. It's not fucking hard, dummy. And don't scrape your teeth on it. Shit fucking hurts."

You look down at his plump balls, slowly lowering your head and shyly placing kitten licks on each of them, following his instructions. He grunts, dick twitching with interest at your motions, and he pushes your face more firmly into the sack to coax you to put more pressure on your tongue.

You oblige, licking slowly but steadily, and his eyes glaze a bit as he watches you look up at him for approval while you slowly and steadily lick up his shaft, making your way to his tip where you begin to focus your tongue, swirling it around the head and along the slit. He lets out short puffs of air as he watches you gulp down some of his precum, his head spinning.

You had seemed to have never done this before, but then you stare at him like that, and lick him with such precision that he stops to rethink his decision. He doesn't realize that he's started moaning and stopped being mean to you.

"F-fu-fuck... Ohhh..." Stifled moans leave his parted lips as his pupils blow wide, the sounds making you throb gently in your cotton panties.

"Ju-just like that, sh-sh...shit..." He gently pushes your head down so your mouth wraps around the whole tip of his cock, and his head lolls back as you slowly start to bob your head, drowsy pleasure overwhelming him.

He felt like such a virgin right now. Getting worked up over some silly girl blowing him like he hadn't done this a million times before. Maybe it was just because you were so goddamn pretty. The way your mouth looked stuffed with cock made him fucking crazy. It was so wet and warm inside, and you were sucking him in like you didn't want him to go anywhere. You had to have done this before.

Your tongue traces shyly over the veins on his cock, and you let out a soft gagging sound as his fat cock hits the back of your throat. You splutter a bit, drooling around the shaft as you wrap a tiny hand around the base, twisting and tugging gently. He keens, pulling you in further and shoving your mouth so deep that your nose is nearly up against the neat patch of hair above his cock. You let out a spluttering sound, your throat tightening on him as you gag and breathe in deeply through your nose, your head swimming and your vision blurring with tears.

"Nngh... mmmh... fuuuck," He chokes out. "Shit... ahhh... so fuckin'... good... su-suck me harder, cmon dummy." He groaned, his hips twitching forward involuntarily, seeking more of that incredible, wet heat engulfing his throbbing cock. The slick, suckling sounds filled the room, punctuated by Thanos' escalating panting breaths and garbled exclamations of bliss.

His chest heaved, muscles flexing beneath sweat-slicked skin as the pleasure built to a fever pitch. The man's eyes rolled back, only the whites visible as he lost himself in the mind-numbing ecstasy of the moment. "Fuck yeah...just... ahh... like that, gorgeous, use that m-mouth..." If he were coherent right now, he'd slap himself and try to shut up, but he can't. He guides your head into the rhythm he's set for you, listening to the sloppy, garbled sound of you sucking, and occasionally choking on his cock.

At this point, your pussy is soaked and clenched around nothing, light moans leaving your own lips. the vibrations make him tremble, and he nearly stumbles backwards with how good this is. He can't even imagine what your pussy would do to him if your mouth was this good.

The sloppy sounds build in speed as he moves your head faster, loud wails leaving his mouth as he ignores the commotion of the cleaning process going on outside the room. "Ohhh god, I can't... baby... ngh... I'm gonna fuckin' lose it..." Thanos gasped out, his words spilling out in a frantic, babbled rush as he clawed desperately at your hair, trying to hold on to the last threads of his rapidly unraveling control. 

Thanos panted out between gasping breaths, his voice tight with desperation as he felt the telltale tingling rising from the pit of his stomach. His grip on your hair tightened, fingers curling and uncurling erratically as he struggled to hold back the impending avalanche of ecstasy threatening to crash over him at any moment.

"Ahh... fuck... it's too much... too fuckin' good..." he whimpered, eyes squeezing shut as he tried valiantly to stave off the inevitable. With the last dregs of his rapidly fading willpower, he managed to tug at your hair, reluctantly pulling your mouth off his throbbing, pulsing cock with a slick pop. It bobbed obscenely in the cool air, flushed a deep, angry red and leaking copiously as it strained towards its release.

"G-god... unh... I'm gonna... can't hold it... please..." he begged, his tone a desperate, pleading whine. "stroke me... jerk my fuckin' cock... make me cum, g-goddamnit..." His hips jerked spastically, the head of his cock brushing almost painfully against your cheek, smearing slick across the soft skin.

With trembling hands, you grasped his throbbing shaft, feeling it pulse and twitch in your grip. You could feel the heat radiating off it, like a live wire crackling with electricity. Thanos shuddered and let out a strangled moan as you began to stroke him, your soft hand gliding up and down his rock hard length.

Two, three, four firm pumps of your fist and he was done for. "ohfuckohfucko-oohhhh fuck..." His cock jerked and spasmed wildly in your grip before erupting, hot, thick ropes of cum painting your flushed face and gasping open mouth. Ropes of it, slick and sticky, splattering across your forehead, your cheeks, your chin, dripping down your neck and onto your tracksuit jacket.

Thanos could only stare in disbelief as his heart pounds wildly in his chest, hitting his ribs hard as a lithe tongue darting out, its pink tip peeking from between those sweet, cum-glossed lips to lap up the scintillating evidence of his pleasure.

You bring your fingers up to your face, swiping a glob of cum from your cheek to taste it, the salty, slightly nutty flavor pleasant on your tongue. Thanos felt his spent cock give a feeble twitch at the erotic juxtaposition of purity and depravity, his mind reeling at the staggering beauty of the vision before him.

The contrast of such a lewd act on such a sweet, angelic face nearly undid him all over again.

"No… way…" he breathed out, shaking his head in awe and amazement at the erotic spectacle before him. "Fuck… you're… so fuckin' cute…"

Blushing at the praise, you help him back into his pants while you clean off your face with your sleeve, taking off your jacket and tying it around your waist while he hovers over you, his mind a mess. He grabs your arm just as its time to leave, and he grabs your face in his big hands, pressing his lips firmly to yours.

You let out a shaky moan, little hands holding onto his jacket in tight fists while he slides his tongue into your mouth, moaning as he swirls his tongue around yours greedily and swallowing your taste like a man starved.

He pulls away with a soft pop, strings of saliva connecting your tongues as you look at each other with half lidded eyes. He's sure to hold your hand tightly as you unlock the door and leave the room together.

[satoruan]

MOMENTS WITH YOUR PREGNANT BELLY w/Jujutsu Kaisen  

( CW ) f!reader, reader is pregnant(duh), tooth-rotting fluff  

Featuring: Gojo Satoru, Toji Fushiguro, Nanami Kento, Geto Suguru 

author's note: short rewrite from my old blog

☾ GOJO SATORU 

"Toru, stop splashing my stomach!" you exclaimed at your playful husband, attempting to push the lukewarm bathwater onto your stomach, inadvertently splashing your face. "But she likes it, look!" he exclaimed with a huge smile as your daughter continued to kick your stomach. "I don’t need to look; I can feel it," you rolled your eyes. "Feels like she’s trying to break my ribs." You let out a little grunt when she kicks a particular spot. Satoru shoots a worried glance at you. "Are you alright?" he asks, rubbing smooth circles on your stomach. "I'm okay; she just keeps kicking the same spot," you gave him a small smile when he leans down to kiss your belly. "Hey now, take it easy on your momma, or no more splashes for you," he mummers to your stomach. As if your daughter understood, she stops and starts gently kicking in another area. "Look, Angel, she listened to me!" he exclaims before pushing more water into your stomach. "Toru! You got water in my nose!" 

☾ TOJI FUSHIGURO 

"Are you okay, beautiful?" Toji inquired, concern evident in his eyes as he observes you holding your stomach with a furrowed expression. "Just a big kick from the baby," you struggle to get out, your stomach contracting. "C'mere--lemme make you feel better, baby," he whispered, sitting up on the headboard of the bed and pulling you between his open legs. "What are you doing, Toji?" You question as your husband reached towards the nightstand to grab something. "Makin’ my girl feel better–just lay down and relax," he whispers in your ear before placing a gentle kiss on your shoulder. With the cramps becoming unbearable, you had no other choice but to obey. Eyes squeezed tight, body resting on Toji’s toned chest, you tense when he starts to gently massage your stomach with what feels like lotion. A moan of relief escaped you involuntarily. "That’s right, let me take care of you," he mummers, continuing the soothing massage. 

☾ NANAMI KENTO 

"Are you ready to taste heaven, babies?" Nanami smiles warmly at your stomach as if expecting your unborn twins to give a response. Quickly, he leans down and places two affectionate kisses on your stomach, one for each baby. "C'mon, Kento, ’m hungry!" you pout, crossing your arms over your chest. Nanami was supposed to be giving you new food items that he found online, but the more he talks, the more it seems like he's eager for his children to be the taste testers rather than you. "You know they can’t actually give you a review, right?" you question your husband, but he ignores your sass and reaches for a plate. "Duh, ‘course I know that, but they're still going to taste it inside of you," he says as if it's the most obvious thing. "Yeah, all mashed up and mixed with a bunch of different foods. Now, give me that plate–I’m hungry!" you insist, reaching out for the plate as your husband laughs. 

☾ GETO SUGURU 

"I don’t think they like me," Suguru grumbles, and you laugh as your unborn child tries and fails to kick their father's head off your stomach. "Hell," Suguru yanks his head up and glares at your protruding stomach. "Hey, don’t cuss at my baby," you laugh. "I wouldn’t have to if my baby wasn’t trying to give me a concussion," he rolls his eyes dramatically before rubbing his calloused fingers on your stomach, The baby kicks at his hand. "Don't be so dramatic, Sugu," you roll your eyes at your husband as he continues to tease your child with his hand. "How do you think I feel when they’re kicking my bladder at three AM?" you laugh. "You better not come out as moody as your mommy," he taunts before pressing a soft kiss on your stomach. "I’ll give you whatever you want when you come out if you let me lay down in peace, deal?" he whispers to your stomach, and all he gets is a harsh kick. "Deserved.” You huff out. 

[sukunas-wife]

Being Sukuna’s Pregnant Wife and being worshipped as a diety because you were able to conceive the four armed hulking cursed child, you must have the blessing of fertility

Having a shrine erected in your name because barren women believed you’d bless them with fertility despite your legacy starting with the child of the curse that torments them all

Telling your hand maids “Don’t bring me my clothes, bring me one of the kings robes.” The hand maids flinching and wanting to protest out of fear of taking the King of Curses robes

The poor naive young hand maid that had grown a crush on the king excitedly rushing if it meant she could enter the private bed chambers,

Scoffing with a malicious smile to your loyal maids when they shook their heads with Sympathy, they learned long before at such a request it would be foolish to go alone, at least 2 or 3 of them would need to go in your name, preferably the ones your husband recognized to be by your side the longest. But you didn’t like this new girl, she was too enthusiastic to work at the palace only to have a complete change in character when she learned she was assigned to work for you

“It’ll serve that poor girl right” you looked away from the door when your loyal hand maids brought out a wooden box with one of Sukuna’s folded Kimono’s they helped you dress your swollen belly accentuated by the belt the kimono tailored to fit your husband left you with extra space and length, it was far more comfortable then the Kimono’s and robes you were, the lingering smell of your husband with comforting as your rubbed your belly hands barely peeking from the massive sleeves

“Let’s go see my husband.” Was all you said as you started your walk, the maids followed close as you made it to the bed chambers, the door was open, you looked in, Sukuna sneering down at the girl laying in a pool of blood, Uraume was making quick work of the mess

Sukuna’s snapped to you and his arm’s opening in an unusual display of affection, you walked around the mess to reach him, he pulled you into his left side, one hand on your waist the other making you face him, bring his right hand up he rested his hand on your stomach “Some of your maids need a lesson on how to speak to their king,” he looked away from your face to your stomach as he started to move his hands in circles “So swollen with my child, it’s no wonder you send your maids to steal my robes.”

You smack his shoulder with a playful smile and he chuckled “Don’t say it like that you make me feel bigger than i am.”

“Now,” he looked up at your face again, “why are you here.”

You tilted your head to the side, “I started contractions this morning, I’ve been in pain all day and I’m barely standing, my new maid wouldn’t stop speaking so highly of my husband accomplishing having a child when I was at my worst pain level getting ready to push out YOUR child that I HAD to carry. Anyhow I came to get you because he is ready to come.”

Sukuna stared down at you confused “How do you know it’s a boy?”

“I’m his mother,” he watched as you placed your hand over his stilling his rubbing of your stomach, “I knew he was a boy from the day your seed took.”

Sukuna smirked “Is that so? Then let’s see this boy.”

🖤❤️❤️❤️🖤❤️❤️❤️🖤❤️❤️❤️🖤❤️❤️❤️🖤

After an hour of fighting the doctor tending to your birth you gave birth to your lively son, born screaming without needing stimulation to cry form the doctor. Your husband couldn’t help but laugh when he saw his child in his full glory, he was a boy indeed.

The help immediately gave you your son and you cooed at him when he took to your breast, your husband taking blankets from the maids and covered your son also covering you in the process as you struggled a bit to pass what came next. Your son a spitting image of his father, your breathy laugh caught Sukuna’s attention as he came back to your bed side stroking your hair and rubbing your stomach the way the help had been doing.

“What amuses you?” He watched his son slowly close his eyes as you coddled him closer.

“I’m the one who had to carry him for so long, and the ingrate took nothing from me.” You smiled and shook your head before looking up at Sukuna.

Soon the doctor left after clearing you of any possible issues and checking your son. “His name?” You looked at Sukuna and he sighed “Yuji”

The look of adoration in your eyes was something Sukuna would’ve wanted to capture forever if he could express the sentiment. However for now he’d settle for memorizing every detail of today. His wife birthing his first heir, the name she had chosen he permitted.

Maybe just maybe this world wasn’t so bad

[thecoochiefairy]

baby phat. onyankopon.

𑄽𑄺 warnings 𑄽𑄺 4.K word count. blackfem!reader, pregnant!fem reader/kink, drabble, onyankopon, grumpy!onyankopon, sweet!onyakopon, dominant!onyankapon, masturbation, phone/facetime sex, vaginal penetration, lil bit of sweet talkin’, creaming, praising, LOTS of dirty talk, kinda aggressive dirty talk, just a fine ass black man, minors aren’t welcome!

━━ 𝒄𝙤𝒐𝙘𝒉𝙞𝒆𝙛𝒂𝙞𝒓𝙮 𝙩𝒉𝙤𝒖𝙜𝒉𝙩𝒔 .ᐟ my brain is foggy from real life so just wanted to give y’all a lil something to leave you hot and bothered. if i gotta suffer, you do too. love you.

THE SCENT OF CASHMERE VANILLA, COCOA BUTTER AND BROWN SUGAR WAS WHAT YOU USUALLY WOKE UP TO. Unfortunately, that scent was missing within the bed. You sat up tiredly as you took a deep breath, raising your fingers over the smooth swell of your belly—you were now eight months pregnant, and your husband wasn’t home as much as you wanted him to be.

With a sigh, you pull yourself out of bed to prepare for the day. Onyankopon had been in contract with the New Orleans Saints for only a couple of months now. Becoming pregnant was an accident—but spending the rest of your life with him wasn’t the worst thing in the world. You’d practically traveled to every part of the state to be there with him for games—a baby wasn’t too far along after. 

The only unfortunate part of this situation was his absence. With him just being signed, he was around the state with press conferences, practices, essentially in the hazing part of his successes. You were happy for him as you knew this was all he wanted, but you missed him, and so did the baby growing inside your belly. 

Thankfully, you did have the support of his mom, who was there for you as if you were her own daughter. She was there to help you with your daily routine—feeding Ony’s two large Dobermans since she was terrified of dogs, going with you to your ultrasound for the day, and dragging you into every store she saw with infant clothes. You enjoyed your time with her—but you still missed Onyankopon. 

It’s not like the two of you didn’t communicate. You had your ways. Texting when he wasn’t busy, phone and video calls into the night, pictures of daily activities, or all of those options in more…intimate times. It opened up a new exploration of your relationship as you were more shy to the nastier suggestions, but as more time was spent away from him, you’d do anything to show how much you missed him. 

Speaking of, it was your favorite time of the day. Your daily phone call with him was closer to the evening time, the sun beginning to set within the state of Louisiana. He was only a couple of hours away as they were in Mississippi, days away from preparing to play their kick off game against Ole Miss—but it felt like he was across the country at this point. 

You adjust the bow that ties against the halter of your yellow sun dress, silver cross sat between the swell of your breasts and constantly hardened nipples due to your hormones. You were going for a more natural route with your hair, flip-over sew-in under midnight black curls, dragging all the way down your back, framing your flushed and freckles cheeks. 

You back yourself up a bit as you’re seated within the master bedroom, blood red IMAC brightening against your caramel skin, camera reflecting back at you as the call rang. When it connected, you were met with the familiarity of his hotel room—seeing as the room was slightly dim, the TV’s light against his brown skin, full lips even more delectable through the grainy camera. His durag protects his hair, goatee connected perfectly, jawline prominent under his stoic gaze. He was edible. 

You wave, “Hi, baby! Can you see me?”

“I can,” he mused. 

His deep timbre voice was comforting as he greeted, “Hey, my pretty ass baby. Look at you,” His eyes flickered over your face, breasts, and your swollen belly, making your thighs press together, “How you’ feeling?”

You sigh, pulling your hair behind your ear, “I’m okay. You’ like my dress?” 

Your voice was soft, already feeling the tiniest bit insecure as you’d just gotten back into form fitting clothes. You’d cried as your body changed in the earlier months.

Onyankopon smirks, shifting on the chair where his knees spread, “Pretty as fuck, Mama. Bout’ to bust that shit open with all that ass,” he grunts, which makes you giggle as he continues, “I miss you.”

“I miss you more, baby,” you exhale, trying not to make yourself upset, “You need to come home soon. Your big ass wolves that you call dogs are scaring your mom.”

“Oh? Now they’ my dogs. You ain’t say all that when you wanted them,” he retorts, licking over his lips.

Your eyes follow the movement of his tongue as you shift on the chair. He looked handsome as ever. You can’t help but stare at his full lips, the small dimple in his cheek, and the dark hue of his eyes as he leans towards the computer desk, pulling out rolling paper as he prepares to roll a blunt. You weren’t sure why, but it was always the sexiest thing to watch.

You blink as your eyes scan the screen, clearing your throat a bit as you raise an eyebrow, “They’ ain’t drug testing y’all?”

Onyankopon shrugs, “It’s preseason, Baby,” he murmurs as he begins to break down the tree on the rolling paper, “Besides, all I’m doing is smoking. That ain’t so bad.”

“Mhm,” you roll your eyes, “Well you better cut that ain’t so bad habit before our little Pumpkin comes,” you run your fingers over your belly.

Your eyes run across his mouth as he licks over his joint, sealing the end, “Don’t call him that shit. That’s my son,” he grabs for his lighter, “My lil’ man been kickin’?”

“Your lil’ football player has been punting in my damn stomach,” you blow out a breath, “He’s moving down to my bladder. If he shifts anymore, imma’ need a walker.”

Your fingers grip around the cross hanging between your breasts, “…You’re my Pumpkin too, y’know.”

A chuckle leaves Onyankopon as he brings his freshly lit joint to his lips, inhaling as he holds off the urge to laugh. A cloud of gray leaves his lips as he blows. 

“He gon’ have my long ass legs.” 

His eyes flicker up momentarily from the screen, making it fog, “You my pumpkin, too,” he repeats back, exhaling into the camera. 

You didn’t want to interrupt as you watched him—the haze of his red eyes already becoming apparent. He’s sexy. Fuck.

Your fingers absentmindedly trail along your belly, feeling your cheeks become warm as you bring your eyes down. You ask softly, “How was practice?”

"We got a new tight end, nigga think he somebody. But besides that, same ol'. Just drills and shit really,” He banters, shifting forward in his chair as he stares up at you, "You know I'm bored as hell right now, Mama." 

You could see the haze in his eyes grow as he slowly takes another hit of his joint—Uh oh. 

You narrow your eyes, curls swaying over your shoulder, “Oh, am I boring you?”

"You?” 

Onyankopon leans back against the chair, exhaling into the computer. He grins a bit as the camera is engulfed in smoke, "Nah. You could never, baby.” 

You watch him with curious eyes as he shifts in the chair, groaning slightly which makes your mind wander—The only thing you could see was his face, shoulders, chest and what you could assume to be his stomach. He wears a white long sleeve, clinging to his muscular frame. You knew all the tattoos that hid under his top. But something was under the computer table…

You give him a soft, awkward smile. You know how he got when he was high. This was your husband, yet he made you nervous like a schoolgirl. 

You then say, “Oh!” Standing as you search for your purse, ass directly within the camera as you question, “I got the ultrasound photos, baby! Wanna see?”

Your husband hums, low and deep as he says back to you, “Mhm,” You feel his lustful eyes on the screen, “Come show me.” 

Your hands tremble as you search, almost excited for him to see the photos. Or maybe you were just nervous—again. 

You drop the brown Telfar on the side of the desk, it only takes you three steps to be in front of your computer again, holding the black and white printout up to the screen. 

You can hear a faint laugh as Onyankopon murmurs once again, “Bring it closer, girl.”

You fully sit down again, leaning forward as you point your acrylic nail against the sonogram, “See, that’s his little toesss, and that’s his little fingers!” you giggle, “You see?”

Onyankopon’s face breaks out into a smile as he groans slightly, “Goddamn. I lied, he got my fingers. Musta’ got your toes, Mama. Can’t see ‘em too good.”

You hum, “Guess he won’t be too good for basketball then,” you tease.

Onyankopon snorts at that as he says, “Basketball she says— You know what? Just ‘cause you said that, he’s not playin no sport. Imma’ get lil’ man his own studio.”

You giggle a bit at that, “My child ain’t finna’ be no damn rapper. You can kill that thought.”

“That’s ‘cause he’s gonna’ be a singer. Got your pretty ass voice, I know it.”

You roll your eyes, “You’ just flirting, boy. Cut it out.”

Onyankopon chuckles at that, but he doesn’t deny it. His eyes fall back to that serious gaze he had before, a soft tint of red within them.

“You’ got me thinking about you.”

His voice, it’s almost like it’s own way of peer pressure. Your hands run over your belly anxiously as you blink, “Me?”

"Yeah,” Your husband draws out, eyes flickering up and down the screen in anticipation, “Don't play all shy.”

You can see him shift in the chair as he leans back, and his eyes stare back at the screen. You can tell he was waiting for something.

At the same time, your body becomes…significantly warm. Before he was signed, you and Onyankopon had sex almost every single day. You couldn’t get enough of each other, never did. Your mind flashes to those memories, and your thighs rub together a bit. At the same time, the door to the master bedroom opens, allowing you to exhale for a second. 

Gray curls come into view, brown skin and familiar eyes that belonged to your mother-in-law. She held a bowl of food with a smile. 

She walked towards the camera, “Hey, Honey-Bun, you alright in here? I made you some jambalaya—“

She pauses, looking towards her son on the camera as her eyes immediately narrow, “I know your big headed ass better put that joint away.” 

Onyankopon groans as his mother comes into view, “Yes ma’am,” he coughs, hovering a fist over his mouth. He was still high—which you could tell based on his flushed appearance and tone. His mother was very anti-weed, so he always tried to hide it as much as possible. You can see some movement under the table, which you assumed was Onyankopon putting the blunt away.

“Why’ the hell do you think it’s a good time to be smoking, Onyankopon? They don’t drug test y’all?”

Oh god. You knew your mother-in-law could easily begin complaining, and you wish she’d walked in at any other time as you placed a calming palm against her arm.

Onyankopon clears his throat, making his face close to the screen so you could really see his eyes, “Ma—Ma. I’m in the preseason. Ain’t got no games for a couple days. They ain’t doin’ that, they ain’t doin’ all that.”

“Preseason? The ‘hell does that mean? Are y’all playing or not? If you’re not playing then why can't you come back home to check on your mother and your pregnant wife?” She comes closer to the camera, you can’t help but sigh lightly to yourself.

Onyankopon groans again as he leans back in the chair, “Momma, I’m not finna’ get into it with you again. You and Baby know. You jus’ gon’ talk over me if I start speakin’ anyway.”

He can’t help but tongue his cheek momentarily, and your heartbeat increases with just his simple movements—but you’re brought back to reality when his mother speaks up even quicker.

“Are you at least eating? Did you get the care package I sent you? I got all your soaps, and that little teddy bear you had as a baby—you never went anywhere without Mr. Snuffles,” which makes you giggle at the familiar toy, something Onyankopon hated being reminded of.

He mumbles, “…I’m good, Momma, got your care packages. Lawd. Stop with all that…” 

“Thank you for the food, Momma,” you give her a smile, “I’m not super hungry at the moment, do you mind leaving it in the fridge?”

Onyankopon’s mom gives a smile back, “Of course. I’m actually gonna head back home for the night, do you need anything else?”

You shake your head, “I’m perfect. Just gonna’ keep talking to Ony for a little while longer.”

Onyankopon sighs as his mother says her goodbyes, exiting out of the room. Now, you notice his eyes flickering up and down your curves, which makes you squirm under the spotlight. Onyankopon then repeats, “I miss you bad as fuck, girl. You miss me?”

You hate yourself for the emotions that produce randomly at times. The conversation between your mother-in-law and Onyankopon, the way he made you easily giggle, the imagery of his warmth surrounding you but not actually being there—it didn’t feel the best. 

The dark fluff of your cat-eye lash extensions flutter as you nod your head, using your knuckles to lightly swipe your watery eyes as you nod, “I miss you so much, Ony…”

Your husband’s face softens slightly. He hated to see you so emotional due to his absence, and would rather be anywhere else. But you always supported his dreams, and wanted to build the perfect life for your baby boy. He mutters, “Stop all that crying, baby. Wipe ya’ face. You know I’ll be back.“

You shakily sigh a bit, nodding your head as you kneel your face down to let the tears fall that way, “I—I know, it’s just hard sleeping without you,” you sniffle, “Lil’ Pumpkin likes when you rub my stomach to sleep…”

Onyankopon sighs, “And I love rubbin’ your stomach, baby.” 

He then says, “Soon as I get back, we gon’ sleep for a whole week. Ain’t nobody gonna’ bother us. I’m all yours.”

Your heartbeat increases—Onyankopon always had a way to make you emotional without even being near. It also made you somewhat…aroused. 

“I miss you like crazy. I miss ya’ voice, I miss ya’ smell. I miss ya’ pu—“ he cuts himself off before he goes into that territory, which makes your body heat up slightly.

You watch as he brings the blunt back up to the camera, pulling another drag of smoke, the move always so efficient as if it was nothing. His eyes are back to being low—it makes you shift your legs again. He cuts on low background music to play, and a familiar song catches your ears, She Will, by Lil Wayne.

You hum softly, “You love this song.” 

You take a moment to recall why the song gave you such a sense of Deja Vu. But as you remember, you halt.

The memory was at a family event— Onyankopon’s going away party. His family irritated him by being loud, over talking and messy—a black family’s usual antics. He’d managed to sneak downstairs with you to the car for a moment of silence, the two of you smoking, the song faintly playing in the back. You’d…remembered this vividly.

 Your mind glazes over the moans you produced in that backseat, the sound of your skin connecting, your vulnerability, your legs trapped over his shoulders…

Your mind comes back to reality as you’ve been watching him this whole time. Your hand had somehow made its way to your chest…rubbing over your exposed skin, clutching your pendant again. 

“Mama,” Onyankopon murmurs as he brings another drag of the blunt back on camera, blowing the smoke into screen as he spins back to his sentence earlier, “‘Got me thinking about you bad as fuck.” 

He was high as hell.

Your eyes run over his large silhouette as he leans back against the chair, knees spreading out further as he makes himself comfortable, head tilting back a bit as he watches you. 

Your mind wanders again, back to that song—back to that night. Your mind can’t stop. Your head is spinning with the memories, it physically makes you whimper, squeezing your thighs, tugging your pendant fully.

Your husband’s gaze grows in lust as he leans forward a bit, whispering, “Talk to me. Whatchu’ thinkin’ about?”

The hand clutched around your pendant squeezes a bit tighter as you glance towards the camera, “The song…makes me think of that night in the car…” you softly admit, rubbing your fingers over your collar bone, your fingertips bringing you warmth.

 He brings the blunt back on camera again before a stream of clouds leaves his lips, “You miss that night, Mama?”

You nod your head, your entire body now hot. You could feel your nipples poking through your top again, aching in a way that almost becomes painful. Your thighs are so tightly together, as you adjust the seating position, you grind against yourself a bit, making the tiniest gasp pull from your lips.

Onyankopon groans through the screen, and you can hear his voice say, “You in our bedroom?” 

He was becoming impatient.

"Go to it. On the bed," he murmurs, "Hurry up.”

“Too far from you, Ony,” you pout, bringing your hands against your breast, giving a squeeze to them, trying to relive how full they feel.

There's a pause before a deep exhale leaves his lips. His tone goes deep again, "Go."

You shudder as you stand, your legs feeling numb. You tilt the monitor more towards the king sized bed, silky black comforter set along the oversized mattress. You crawl along the sheets, turning towards him again, your knees along the bed as your dress begins to hike against your soft thighs.

His eyes flicker downward at you, and you can feel his gaze run up your smooth, caramel skin. His gaze burns into yours, giving an intense look. 

You hear his voice again, “You gon’ do what I say?”

You nod your head, lightly digging your teeth against the pink of your soft lips.

“Always listen to you, Ony…”

Your man growls, “That’s right, ‘cause you good. You gon’ be good for me?”

Your hands squeeze the flesh of your breast, your nipples never being this sensitive before your pregnancy. You gasp in a soft tone, but the sound is heavier. You nod your head, “Bought something I w—wanna show you…”

You hear his breathing pick up, “Yeah? Show me,” he murmurs. “You look so muhfuckin’ good right now, baby.”

You reach behind you as you pull a toy from under the pillow—it’s pink, silicone, almost looking like glass. Big, just as big as him. 

“Pretty like you, Daddy…”

"Look at that," You hear a deep noise escape his lips before there's a shuffling noise, you couldn't exactly make out what it was—then it was followed by another noise. This one you recognized; the strings of his sweatpants. His dark pink tip slaps along the sculpted muscle of his stomach, practically making your mouth water. 

“You like it?” You ask softly.

 You take the object and graze it lightly along your body, seating yourself fully along the bed. You’re at the most perfect angle to spread your legs.

“Yeah, baby,” he grunts, letting more of his body come into view as he’s in a reclined position. You can begin to see his toned chest come into view when there's some shuffling noises again, his breathing picking up, “Love it.” 

You pull at the string of your dress, letting the halter fall over the swell of your belly, material hanging in between your stomach and hips. You were now bare at the top, hair swaying over your body and face as you shuddered a bit, “They’re starting to fill with milk, baby… sensitive…”

You can hear a deep, deep groan echo in the screen, almost sounding frustrated, “Fuck. You’ playing right now. Put that shit in your mouth.”

You bring the toy up to your mouth, spreading your full lips apart as you let it slide on your tongue, coating it with your saliva. At the same time, you spread your legs, showing off the glistening arousal bedaubed on your pussy. You were wet. 

“Fuck, baby....” he growls lowly, beginning to stroke himself, “Pussy so pretty. I can feel that shit on my tongue. I’m just slurping your shit up.” 

 His voice is rough with desire, each word punctuated by a squeeze of his fist around his thick tip. 

“Get you’ a pillow for your lower back, baby. ‘Know it hurts sometimes.”

You listen, pulling the satin pillow behind you for a bit of support, feeling the small ache in your back beginning to decrease. 

“Comfortable, Mama?” He questions, you nod your head.

“Good. Rub that dick all over your clit.”

Your eyes flutter shut as you imagine his lips dropping kisses against your clit. He’d go from your inner thighs, teasing you. He’d watch as you’d squirm with every suckle of your skin, your entire body shuddering as his hot breath fanned over the hood covering the pink nub, being pulled up by his lips, being kissed by his tongue. You brush the toy against your clit that throbs, spreading your legs a little more as you whimper, lightly dragging the tip in circles on your upper pussy. The sound it makes, your pussy keens.

His hand begins to pick up speed as he pumps through his fist, “You like that, huh? Rubbing this big ass dick all over your clit?” He grunts, his voice strained with pleasure, “Slap that shit on your pussy. Get them’ pretty ass eyes rolling back."

He knew everything about your body. Including the way you’d spasm at this action, so you listened, slapping the heavy toy against your clit, your legs trembling in response, eyes rolling to the back or your head. You groan a bit, head falling back, eyes fluttering before you bring your attention back to your arousal that pools beneath your thighs, pulling your legs wider to show the gummy pink of your pussy. 

The anticipation builds as you tease yourself, circling your clit with the toy, then dipping it inside your opening just enough before withdrawing again.

“Why that shit so fuckin’ wet already?” His jaw clenches, head tilting back, fist rotating on his tip, dragging down every couple of seconds.

Your folds wrap around the toy every millisecond as you slide the outsides of it against yourself, teasing so much that your eyes haven’t stopped rolling back. 

The swell of your belly shifts a bit as you whine softly, “Ony…” 

“Shut the fuck up,” he snaps, “Ain’t even put that shit in yet. Where’ my lil’ nasty bitch at? She would’ve been droolin’, dropping herself all on my dick. Just drenching my shit. Quit playing.”

“Right here,” you whimper, nodding your head, digging your teeth back into the plump of your lips. Instead of dipping the toy in to tease yourself, you take a palm to pull one of your legs up in the air, using your other hand to drag the toy towards your opening, separating the aching stretch of your folds as you begin sinking it’s tip inside. 

You’re gasping as you watch it go in, unable to see more, yet you feel every inch swelling your walls, disappearing under the sight of your large belly. 

You whimper, “It’s in there, baby.” 

"Get it all the way in, baby. Bury that shit deep," he commands, pumping faster now, his breathing ragged. You’re dropping it in, inch by inch, your inhale deep as you pull it halfway out, toes curling as you sink it back in, an air pocket gushing as your arousal sops around the pink toy. 

Your eyes are fluttering chaotically as you shudder, “Fuck,  agh—“ you don’t stop, fist brushing over your clit as you’re dropping it down into you.

He’s talking, "You remember when we first met? Couldn’t even handle my fingers. Now look at you,” A low chuckle escapes him, "Now I got you stretching that pussy out. Dick just drop, drop, dropping in that shit…”

His words trail off into a grunt as he quickens his strokes, “You my lil’ freaky ass bitch, huh?”

You whimper, pouting at the way your pussy cries its tears, sobbing out in waves of arousal that pool each time you pull the toy out, painting the pink silicone white. You squeal lightly as its balls slap against the outside of your pussy, the fleshy sound splattering up more of your wetness as you petulantly whine, “Yeah, Ony…”

"That's right, baby. Take that shit like a good lil' slut," he says, voice dripping with lust as he watches you work the toy deep inside yourself, “Rubbing that pretty ass clit while you're stuffed. Fuck, you look so damn good."

He picks up pace, stroking harder and faster as he nears his own climax, “Gonna give you all this fuckin’ nut. You want it?”

“Want it,” you tremble, in and out, the toy’s just going in you at this point, disappearing without a trace, lost in your pussy. You’re just gushing. The sound is like a mouth blowing raspberries into one’s palm, fleshy, nasty.

“Can’t cum without you,” you pout, “Need you….I need you,” you’re opening your mouth, the sob coming deep from your chest, fucking yourself even harder, one leg shaking violently as it’s held in the air, eyes possessed as they’re rotating. You loved these moments—but they were never enough. Not even for him. 

“You don’t need nothing,” He groans, his words coming out more raspy, “Keep that pussy wet as fuck. I’m coming.” 

[jiminiecrickets]

KILLER? I BARELY KNOW HER! FUSHIGURO TOJI / M!READER

summary. shadows of your past catch up to you – but you're the strongest, and there's nothing you can't handle.

wc. 5.5k

tags. smut | top reader, bottom toji. mentions of underage drinking. sorcerer + teacher reader, enemies-to-lovers (with extra steps), sorta sugar baby toji/rich reader, doggystyle + missionary, mentions of exhibitionism + filming, unprotected sex, brief degradation (r. receiving), brief breeding kink, implied shower sex

notes. every dark-haired male jjk character deserves a silly and illogically powerful best friend with whom they have romantic tension :3 you're him. literally.

The pleasant chime of the doorbell echoes throughout your home. You're not expecting anyone.

You know you should be careful. In fact, you shouldn't be staring at the back of the front door at all. Opening it would ruin the carefully put-together façade of the closed-curtain windows and dark rooms.

Maybe you're tired, and you forget, moving on instinct. Maybe you're bored.

Maybe you're hopeful.

The door inches open, and a man looks up from where he'd been staring listlessly at the flower-spotted bushes lining the patch of green between the entrance and the driveway. His hands are shoved into the pockets of his sweatpants, and his eyes are dark, flickering with an emotion you can't quite catch before it flutters away.

"Toji?" you say, the surprise in your voice teetering on warmth. "Hey..."

"Hey," he replies – exhales, really, something like a hum. He reaches up by his shoulder, the action too familiar for you not to stiffen, but he just rubs the back of his neck, stretching out the cricks of his body. "So. New place, huh?"

Your hand rests behind the door. He knows better than to expect it to be empty. "Old, technically. It was my first property purchase."

He tilts his head. "Yeah? When did you get it?"

"Fifteen. A birthday present for myself – a gift for surviving another year of high school. And curses, I guess. Surviving them was way worse because getting their blood in my mouth made me want to die."

He scoffs, and the raised scar over the corner of his lips shifts with his amusement. "Fifteen... And what does a teenager do with a house?"

You shrug. "Drink. Party. Pirate movies. The usual."

"Hah. Sounds like you were a fun kid." Toji scuffs the toe of his sandals against the ground absently. Then he rolls his neck and sighs. "Look, I didn't come all the way here to talk history. Long-ass way out, too, so just let me in."

Lifting an eyebrow, you give him a once-over that feels keener than it should be. "Are you here to kill me?"

"What, you think I'm here for that bounty? Who do you think I am?"

"Don't blame me. You seem very well aware of it."

"Isn't worth the effort for the price. 'Sides, you've given me more than that over the years, haven't you? I like to keep my options open, and it seems to me like it's a better investment to keep you alive."

"You talk as if you could kill me at all," you mutter, a little disdainfully, but it dissipates swiftly when Toji cracks a smirk, so familiar and entwined deeply with your favourite memories. The breeze stirs lightly, and Toji's hair ruffles, almost blue in the sunlight.

"Couldn't I? You're the one who runs away."

"Yeah, after immobilising you. Not a lot of fun to be had if you're dead as a doornail. Say – how deep are you in the jujutsu world? You must be rusty. I'd be willing to help you train."

"You'd help me kill your fellow sorcerers?" He chuckles and arches a brow. "I'll have you know I'm looking at a contract worth thirty million from a bunch of religious crazies."

"Peanuts." You wave a dismissive hand. "Now that I mention it, I'm getting complacent, too... I could use the challenge. Keep in contact with me and I'll pay you double."

"You're paying me to use my body?"

"Your words, not mine."

He holds your gaze steadily for a while, and despite his airy voice, his eyes are thoughtful. "Let's not talk business on your doorstep. Lost your manners, have you?"

Finally, your shoulders loosen, and the tension in your body vanishes. With a soft chuckle, you pull the door open further and step aside. "Don't make me regret this."

"Please," he says, slipping out of his sandals and into your home. "You never do."

Zenin. Fushiguro. The Sorcerer Killer. All of his names, all of his history, and yet, to you, he is just your baby – your Toji. It'd be embarrassing if he cared enough to be embarrassed, he thinks as you draw him into a rib-shattering hug. Instead, he feels smug.

Before that Gojo kid, there was you. It wasn't a position you were born for – like the kid was – but you trained your way up and eventually found yourself most suited for the role, all but waltzing into it – because what youth wouldn't want to be number one? It was almost gross, your selflessness and single-minded ambition, and Toji knew how that sort of mindset made the people in power feel. They commissioned him for your death at one point, after all.

It was fun. You were both so young: dancing around each other's weapons as if it was all a stage, chasing each other's clues like a couple of dogs running after a bone. Still – you were society's best, the cream of the crop, and for you to be his, of all people, was a selfish triumph he indulged in too many times to count.

His hands creep up beneath your baggy shirt as he leans up to kiss you, tongue slipping between your lips to share in the taste of some expensive whisky he can't name. He hums – a low, rumbling sound, like a tiger chuffing – as his fingers bump over thick, warm muscle.

Blood and bone. That's what you all are, when it comes down to it.

"You should wear tighter clothes," he murmurs against your lips. "Less to grab in a fight."

The backs of his thighs press into the edge of the kitchen bench, where a forgotten glass of water sits – the remnant of your half-hearted attempt at being a good host while his lips found your neck.

You huff. "A 'fight', huh? I wasn't expecting one."

"You should always expect a fight. While you're at it, always expect to lose. Stops you from being disappointed."

"Sounds pessimistic."

"That's the price we pay for being good at what we do."

"As if you pay for anything, Toji."

He chuckles. He drops the hem of your shirt before sliding his palms up your chest – what a tease – and cupping your face. His hands are warm, callused, thrumming with lifeblood. He sweeps his thumb absently over your cheek, committing every pore of your face to memory. You have the urge to pull away, look down, like a schoolboy with a crush – but Toji's hands are firm.

"C'mon, at least look me in the eye before we kick this off. You that ashamed of me?"

Startled, your gaze flicks up to his. Instead of the half-wry look you expect, he smirks and pulls you in to meet his lips. His fingers interlace loosely at the nape of your neck, caging you in place, and you have no choice but to bend to his whim.

"Stupid," you mutter against his lips, mostly to yourself. "Stop playing with my feelings, Toji – that's manipulative. You're breaking my heart here."

Rather than pulling away himself, he pushes you away, a palm flat on your chest but without any real power. It remains there as he leans back against the stone countertop. "My bad, baby. It's just funny."

"Funnier than you calling this," you gesture between your chests, "something to 'kick off' after... how many years? If you weren't all over me seconds ago, I'd think you came over for a beer and a game."

He lifts his hands in teasing surrender at your accusatory tone. "All right. We'll fuck, then. Maybe include some heavy petting for the B-roll, if you're up for it. Sound good?"

You cross your arms over your chest and muster up a suitable amount of annoyance for a glare. Toji finds it hard to take you seriously – what with your dumb jokes and ridiculous inclination towards flashy fighting – so to him, it's more of a pout. "So, you got lonely without me, huh? Yeah, nah. We're not filming ourselves."

"Hm." It's not a yes, but it's not a disagreement, either. "Why not? It'd be hot."

"I'm a teacher, Toji," you remind him, clicking your tongue when he shrugs, one hand on his hip. "I don't want that kind of thing to exist. If it got out..."

"So you are ashamed of me," he mutters. He steps forward to grab your hands when you start to protest, visibly distressed. He snickers. "Kidding, kidding. Fuck, it's fun to play with you. You don't care about the other one, then? The one from the abandoned restaurant?"

"Well—" Your breath stutters when Toji absently compares hand sizes and laces your fingers together. You watch as he aligns four of his fingers against your ring finger specifically, one at a time as if comparing again, but this time...

"Well?" he prompts, his grin broadening. His shaggy hair falls across his eyes as he tilts his head.

"Well, I don't look like I did ten years ago, and as far as I know, my face isn't in it..." All logic scatters like leaves in the wind when he looks up at you through his lashes, that playful, pretty smirk of his tugging at your heartstrings just right. It's like the years never passed. You swallow. "I-It was different," you finish lamely.

Toji's eyes flicker down to your lips. With a flick of his wrist, he twists a hand in your collar and tugs you down so that your faces are inches apart. Your chests collide roughly. He doesn't seem to care, his gaze trained on you with a heavy, smoky intensity. "Fine. If you won't let me film it, you better make it memorable. I'll decide later if it was worth coming here for."

—

Toji should have known you were serious when you pulled the bedframe about six inches out from the wall. He'd laughed at first, insulting you for such uptight behaviour regarding something as boring as walls, but you'd just dragged him to the bed with a roll of your eyes.

With how loud he was moaning, you could only be glad that he didn't find you at your apartment property.

"Toji," you breathe, your gaze trapped on the tight, firm ass ricocheting off your hips. Your grip tightens. "Toji."

"Fuuuck," he drawls as his cock throbs, prying his eyes open to narrow them at you over his shoulder. Lust has turned the usual green of them nearly black. "What?" he bites out.

"I missed you. Missed this. Fuck, baby, you're so fucking tight."

He lets out a throaty chuckle, turning back around to rest his head on his forearms. With a shift of your hips, your cock punches his prostate, over and over, and his eyes roll back briefly, a pleased groan rumbling from the depths of his stomach. His dick pulses and swings uselessly between his muscular thighs.

"M-Men are all the same," he grumbles. You click your tongue, though you don't miss the way an involuntary moan makes him stutter.

"Awful way to greet an old friend, you know. I thought you were smarter than that. Try being nicer," you slam your hips forward, making his eyes fly open with a gasp, "and you'll get what you want."

His skin prickles when you glide a warm hand up his side and come to rest it upon his shoulder, holding him down with just enough strength to make his muscles flex to fight it. Your thumb rubs little circles into the back of his neck, tracing the dips of his shoulders until you find what you're looking for. You dig into the taut muscle, making him wince.

"Stressed?" you hum, and your voice is gentle. Gentler than he deserves. "Is it money problems again?"

Something like guilt stirs in his belly, but a well-angled thrust has his thoughts unravelling. "No."

"No?"

"No," he repeats. You hum in response and don't push the matter further.

Your hand lifts from his shoulder, and already he can feel the stiffness returning. Damn those God-hands of yours. He finds himself arching back, bracing against the bed, in an effort to return your hands to their rightful place.

You hush him sweetly, pressing your chest to his back and burying your face in the crook of his neck. The angle has the shaft of your heavy cock pressed right up against his prostate and his body jolts with the fiery burn of pleasure, his knuckles turning white as he fists the sheets. "No need to chase me anymore. Not going anywhere. 'M right here, baby."

Toji manages to scoff, and his voice is steadier than he expects. "Not chasin' you, asshole."

"Yeah? Then what do you call showing up at my door as you did, unannounced?"

"Welfare check."

You roll your eyes. "I hate you."

You punctuate your sentence by yanking his hips back on your cock, the wet squelch of lube and precome making him shudder. Despite the rough treatment, a moan tumbles from his lips, and he laughs, loose and breathy.

"Fuck me like it, then," he dares, knocking his temple gently against yours.

One hand lifts to card through his hair. He groans softly as your nails scrape his scalp, but his eyes fly wide open as you grab a fistful and tug, wrenching him up to kneel. He sinks his teeth into his lower lip as you wrap your hand around his leaking cock, jerking him off at the same pace as you fuck into him – he swears he sees stars as your thumb and index finger twist roughly around his swollen tip. His cock squelches in your fist, bubbles of precome sliding down his tip and smearing across your palm.

"Fucker," he snarls, ceasing his split second of flailing to grip your hip and thigh. You'd consider it painful if you hadn't also had the pleasure of being stabbed, slashed, shot, and bitten. "Nngh – so fuckin' big—"

"Going back on our word, are we, honey?" you say slyly, twisting your fist up and down his wet cock. "Tsk, tsk, Toji... so forgetful. I'd say you're getting old."

You glide a fingernail up the line of his vein, making his hips stutter and forcing another curse to slip from his lips, and you dig the tip of your finger roughly into his leaking slit. He moans and his back arches against your hold as your throbbing cock easily slides deep into him, the harsh, rapid smack of your balls against his ass almost disorienting.

He shudders. The heat of his body pulls his skin too tight, makes his tongue heavy and clumsy. Your hands are not quite soft – years of weapons training and hand-to-hand combat would do that to someone – but they're sweet on him. Loving, nearly. Your warmth softens the rub of calluses and tough scar tissue, and Toji learns them anew.

"C'mon, baby... want you to talk to me. Love your pretty little sounds." You end the sentence in a whisper, patting his stomach with the absent sort of friendliness you had as a youth. You never shied away from touching him, rewarding him with your weight draped over his shoulders or entwining your fingers when he did something that pleased you.

That familiar feeling jolts him back to reality. He glances your way – perhaps to say something, but he doesn't remember what about – and you capture his lips with yours, tilting your head and running your tongue over his lower lip.

He keeps them sealed, airtight.

You groan into the kiss and nip at him pleadingly, because you'd have to break Toji's jaw to get him to open up – and you couldn't do that to your favourite killer. Your name falling from his lips like a prayer is too sweet to pass up on.

Eventually, with enough petting and kisses, Toji relents, if only to see you perk up like a puppy tossed a bone. He groans softly as you explore his mouth, tongue curling around his and gliding over his teeth.

Your breath is hot and sweet against his, your lips shockingly gentle despite the quick and steady pace of your hips bouncing off his ass. He jolts every time your cockhead kisses his prostate, swollen and sensitive from your unrelenting pace. His dick bobs, dark red and pulsing hotly in your palm, and he groans like an injured animal. It's almost desperate.

Your shaft drags against his slick walls, which clench with a rippling squeeze as if he's trying to milk you dry. With each hungry snap of your hips, your tip punches the breath out of his lungs. His vision blots out, and he swears he can feel your cock in his damn throat.

Without warning, and without a word, he comes, his expression going lax with pleasure as he releases thick ropes onto his stomach. It's four hard spurts and two weaker pulses, the slow, measured tugs of your wrist twisting in a way that has his thick thighs trembling.

You coo softly, and Toji's face is uncharacteristically warm. Little kisses drift their way up his shoulder and neck and he sighs softly, eyes shut and head tilted back against your shoulder. You press your palm against his chest to feel the heart thudding beneath his ribs, the rise and fall with each shallow breath.

You cup his chest and squeeze.

He cracks an eye open, disapproval furrowing his brows. In response, you grin cheekily and nip at his earlobe as you smooth your fingers through his hair – a silent apology for being so rough.

To his credit, he lets it go. Doesn't even smack you for being an ass. He does, however, clamp down punishingly around your cock when he pulls off, making you hiss at the scrape. It bobs and you shiver at the cold air.

Thoughtfully, Toji glances down at it, still hard as rock and curving upwards towards your stomach. He reaches for it.

Your eyes widen when he slips a nail under the edge of the condom. "Wh-What are you doing?"

"Don't sound so scared. I know we're both safe. Said ya missed me, right?" He grins, dark and sharp, with eyes half-lidded – almost coy. "I'll let you finish inside me. For old times' sake."

"Contract-sanctioned stalking? I thought better of you, Toji." Despite your flippant words, your breath hitches, and Toji's grin widens. He tugs the slick condom off and tosses it aside – without even tying it up, the bastard – and before you can grumble about it, he grabs your jaw, forcing you to look at him, and presses his lips to yours.

You groan softly as he parts his lips and allows you in. He shifts closer, his knee between yours, and grabs your hand. He brings it down between your bodies.

"Baby..." you whisper as he wraps your hand around your lengths, pressed together. He is hot and velvety in your palm.

"Mm." The sound is deep and content, and he blinks up at you slowly like a cat. "I know. I want it."

Then, slinging his arm loosely around your shoulders, he pulls you down with him.

You barely manage to catch yourself before crushing him, your instincts and reflexes dulled by familiarity and a dreamy languor. Not that you think he'd mind – not with that grin.

Toji spreads his knees and hooks his calves around your thighs. He guides your cock into him again, and he rumbles out a pleased moan as it buries itself hilt-deep into his slick warmth.

His head falls back against the pillows as you press your hips flush against his ass. "Ah, shit..."

"You good, baby?" you murmur, swallowing harshly as his gummy walls flutter tightly around you, as if he can lock you inside forever. Your dick twitches.

"Mmh, fuck, jus' sensitive. Move."

It's only natural that you obey.

Toji feels hotter now that you don't have the layer of plastic to contend with – hotter, wetter, hungrier. You thrust shallowly at first, but as his moans grow louder – less restrained – you allow yourself to move tip-to-base, deep and dirty the way he used to like it. Seems he still does. The rim of his puffy asshole catches on the ridge of your cockhead and his nails rake down your shoulders and back, leaving stinging raised lines in their wake.

Pride fills your chest, inflates your ego. An infamous assassin, the Sorcerer Killer, spread wide and inviting with his cheeks all flushed – he's certainly given you a thousand little deaths. You grip the meat of his ass and lift his hips off the mattress, fucking into his wet heat at a new angle that has him shouting your name.

Maybe it's because you can see his face – see all the pretty cock-drunk expressions that wash over his features – that you find yourself chasing the precipice of release embarrassingly fast. He locks his legs around your waist, thick and muscular, and you want to laugh at the absurdity of it.

Why would you ever want to leave?

"Toji," you grunt, panting softly. "'M gonna..." Your breath fans against his sweat-slick skin, making him shiver and arch into your touch. He cups the back of your neck as you nibble and suck dark bruises into his tanned skin, his lashes fluttering as you shift his thighs on your lap and leave far too many deep red hickeys printed on his skin. You even scatter a few across his collarbones and chest, and you're only pleased when he looks like he was mauled by a bear.

He pants softly, his bitten moans making your cock throb even harder. Fuck, you're so hard – the shape of your teeth printed into his skin for all to see makes you prouder than you'd ever admit. You trace the marks gently with your fingertips and Toji's chest stutters.

Gazing up at you with lidded, unfocussed eyes, he laughs, freer than he had since you met him earlier. Your heavy cock plunges into his stretched hole, again and again and again like you're trying to make him take, and your grip on one of his thighs is tight enough to leave red crescents. He grasps your face, turning it down towards him, and offers a sleazy, roguish grin, breathless. His eyes trace the cut of your cheeks, the curve of your lips.

"You look less stupid than usual. S'all you're good for, ain't it? Fucking me nice an' deep with that fat cock of yours – f-fuck. S'mine, yeah? All mine?"

You shudder and groan, bone-deep, and Toji can feel the heavy throbbing of your cock leaking inside him. The slick feeling of you against his walls builds a hot ball of arousal in his lower belly. Your chest heaves against his and your stomach tenses, familiar planes of muscle firm against his hand. Excitement roars through him like a wildfire – eager and keening.

He yanks you down for a devouring kiss as you come, catapulting off the precipice into white bliss. You gasp into it. His ass clenches around you with his own release as he moans, his soft walls stroking you and sucking you in.

He's so fucking warm, so fucking wet. His body is slick with sweat and he shoves his tongue into your mouth like a man starved. Maybe he is. You groan, low and pleased, and his thighs tighten around you like a cage, possessive in his hungry, unyielding embrace.

Spilling into him is heaven. You've died and ascended, you're certain of it. He drinks you deep, as if he was made for it, and lets his head fall back against the pillows with a less-than-steady sigh as your balls tighten and pulse hotly against his skin. Dragging it out, you grind your hips into his ass in lazy circles, huffing and puffing against his throat as if you've run a marathon. Your fingers graze his own, fluttering in a way that seems almost... uncertain.

Hah. As if you knew what that word meant. You were unshakeable, infallible. The strongest. You'd hold onto that title for as long as you could; the burden was heavy.

Rather disappointingly, you don't choose to hold his hands. They glide down his waist and hips, making him shiver, and you slowly pull out, the solid but gentle grip on his thighs never wavering. You set him down as if he was made of glass and his body twitches as thick come leaks from his stretched hole, dripping and pooling white below his ass.

He tosses a lazy arm over his eyes, bending one knee and bracing against the bed. Another hot gush of come. "Ah, f-fuck... shit. You still come like a truck..."

Your gaze, once so dark and sultry as if you were about to eat him alive, now snaps to him, wide and kind and so embarrassed that Toji can't help but crack a grin.

"Sorry, sorry! I didn't hurt you, did I?"

He rolls his eyes. "Other than the hickeys, no. Wouldn'ta minded it anyway," he adds slyly, peering out from within the shadow of his arm. "Pretty hot when you get creative."

Shuffling off of the bed with a soft chuckle, you pick up the discarded condom and toss it in the bin. You pull open the wardrobe with a flex of a wall of muscles that Toji watches keenly, spreading his knees to eye you through them. His tongue darts out to wet his lower lip.

"Y'know, I was thinking," you begin suddenly, rifling through clothes and drawers.

"You can do that?"

"Shut up. I was thinking about you – your situation."

He closes his eyes and sinks back into your bed. "When'd you have the time? Not while you were fucking me, I hope."

"Just listen, Toji." You turn around, washcloth in one hand and a pile of clothes in the other. Dark, but loose and unremarkable – as he prefers it. You toss the clothes at the bottom of the bed and disappear into the adjoining bathroom, raising your voice as the faucet squeaks on. "I was wondering if you'd wanna... you know – catch up. Or at least let me help you."

You continue, "I could find you a place in a better school zone, get you set up legitimately. Honestly, actually, you wouldn't even need to work. You could just focus on your family and I'd take care of the rest."

Toji sits up, ignoring the pinch of pain and the mess between his legs. It'll ache later, so he'll deal with it later. "What?"

"I said—"

"Yeah, yeah, heard you the first time. But why?" He lowers his voice as you return to him and begin to clean him up. He meets your eyes and his mouth takes on the beginning slant of a smirk. "My ass that good, huh? You want me to be your sugar baby?"

Heat floods your cheeks. "You're not that hot, Toji. Don't get ahead of yourself."

"Wasn't talking about my face. Still – it's not like you to beg me to go on the straight and narrow. What's with that?"

"At the risk of sounding humiliatingly sappy after sex," you sigh, sitting back and dropping the cloth aside, "I still care about you. A whole fucking lot. I only want good things for you, Toji, and I have all this excess wealth that I can't donate fast enough, so if I can change just two more lives – I'd beg for the chance."

The desire to change lives without ending others'. He can understand the sentiment.

"What would you want from me?"

For a moment, you're taken aback by the tiredness in his voice. You blink. "Nothing? Like I said, the money would just vanish into a charity otherwise. Well – maybe I'd like to be invited over on the weekends, and maybe drop off-slash-pick up itty-bitty Megumi every so often. He's that age, right? Oh – and you gotta let me into the kitchen. I make a mean lasagne. Wonder if the boy would like it..."

He snorts. "That's a lot of conditions."

"Well, I am offering to let you live like a plump and happy housewife, so..."

He's quiet for a while, his hair falling over his eyes in a way that blocks your view of his face. You toss a rolled-up towel at his head, and he catches it without looking.

He lowers the towel. "You... don't seem to care that I left you."

"No, I didn't at all care that my friend dropped off the face of the earth without warning." You cross your arms and scoff, the smile slipping from your face. "I only heard about what happened months after you vanished, and by that time, there was nothing I could do to search for you. I had too many people looking at me to dig up old underground contacts and not enough time to comb through the country myself. You could have talked to me, you know," you say, your voice softening. "I would never turn you away."

He shrugs, noncommittal. "It's like you said – too many people looking at you. Would be alarming if I came strolling up to your door, wouldn't it?"

"You did today," you point out.

"Yeah, when there's a bounty on your head. I could be killing you right now."

You scoff, though the hint of a smile flickers across your lips. "You're impossible. But fair point. Just... think it over, okay? Come find me after all this bounty business is over and done with. You know where I live."

Toji chuckles softly, and he accepts your offered hand. You lead him to the large bathroom and he threads his towel over the rod next to what must be yours. He stares longer than he should, but the sight of the two towels beside each other – his green, yours blue – forms a lump in his throat that's hard to swallow around. His heartbeat quickens.

The sound of water hitting the tiles fills the bathroom. He raises his voice over it. "Hey."

Glancing over, your arm shimmering with water droplets from where it rests against the faucet handle, you tilt your head wordlessly.

"I should be picking up the kid in a couple of hours," he explains, "at six. As far as he and the childcare know, I work a normal nine-to-five like the rest of 'em. You could go."

Your eyes widen, and you let out an endeared laugh. "Toji, Megumi doesn't know who I am. The last time we met, he was a newborn. I'm not about to give everyone a heart attack by showing up on your behalf."

"It wouldn't be on my behalf, dumbass." His tone borders between disparaging and fond. "I'd go with you."

"Wh—?" Your throat bobs harshly. The shower seems forgotten, and Toji pushes you backwards into it with a palm on your chest because he's not about to waste the water. It pours onto your head, your hair beginning to stick to your face, and it still doesn't seem to register. A smile pulls at his lips as he reaches for your body wash, scanning the label while your brain putters out and short-circuits.

You didn't expect an answer that soon.

"You heard me," he says coolly, as if this is a normal Tuesday for him. He squirts a dab of body wash onto his palm. "Isn't this what you asked for? In my opinion, it's not that fun. I get a lot of women chattin' me up while we wait. Awkward as hell since I can't be rude or they might tell their kids, and then their kids won't like Megumi... ah, it's a big deal. You being there will help. You love to talk, so you can do it for me. Good game plan, right?"

"Toji, I..."

"The fact that I'm talking more than you worries me."

"You said pick-up's at six, right?" you say suddenly, the glint in your eyes intensifying.

He arches a brow, glancing up at you. "Yeah."

"That means we have an hour." You lean in, trapping him against the glass of the shower. There's a hint of mania in your gaze, starved with a vehement zeal. "I'm gonna fuck you, now."

His eyes widen. A feral grin spreads across his face. He laughs against your throat and moans when you press your thumb roughly into one of the many hickeys littering his neck and chest. "You're crazy. Fuckin' crazy – oi."

It's disturbingly easy for you to lift him by his thighs and press him against the cool glass. His skin prickles as he grips your shoulders and mutters, his breath mingling with yours: "If you drop me, I'll kill you."

"Promise?" you ask with a breathless grin.

He crushes his lips to yours. No one else gets the privilege of taking your little deaths.

[xenteaart]

the hard way

pairing: vampire!chris x to be vampire!reader genre/warnings: dark romance, mean chris, angst? kinda dead dove, mentions of death, blood and a lil gore (not too graphic tho imo), it's okay in the end??? and they're in love plot: reader is getting turned into a vampire and it's not as cool as she imagined author’s note: obvsly heavily inspired by railway and that SPITTING SCENE. idk it's prolly gonna flop but i wanted to picture that process and a not so hot side of it

“no.” “why not?!” “because i told you so a million times already. we’re not discussing this.” chris spits out and furrows, growing more agitated with each passing second.

“what, you don’t want me to be equal to you?” you ponder desperately while your mind searches for any, any reason at all as to why chris won’t turn you. it’s been getting to you for the last couple of months, and you’re sure you’ve gone through every possible explanation your troubled brain could come up with: he doesn’t love you. he doesn’t wanna spend eternity with you. or maybe it’s a power thing. or, or, or...? this endless cycle of worry and uncertainty has been keeping you on edge for way too long to think clearly now. “gosh, it has nothing to do with equality,” he rolls his eyes and shakes his head. “what is it then?” “drop it.” you snap. “we’ll have to find out the hard way, then.”

you grab the nearest kitchen knife, and it turns out to be the one you use for cutting meat, a chef’s knife as they call it. how fitting. chris barely has enough time to catch up with your madness infused impulse, and when he turns his gaze back to you, the knife is already deep in your guts.

you thought it was gonna be romantic or somewhat dramatic at least. something from the movies where he sinks his vampire teeth into your neck, and just like magic — your eyes flash bright red, announcing the beginning of a new life.

“you dumb bitch,” he exhales shakily and somehow manages to catch you in time because the sharp pain in your stomach makes you lose your balance instantly. you’re still bitter and angry in the heat of the argument and you expect him to be the same way, but when you glance up, chris looks nothing but panicked. “that’s a new look on him,” you think, and it confuses you.

chris growls and sinks to his knees, carefully holding you and trying to move as fast as possible. what you don’t know is that turning can only be done in around thirty seconds since fatal injury. that might explain the rushing and chris’s pure bambi eyes panic but your consciousness is already starting to drift away to hold onto that train of thought.

chris bites into his wrist with unmasked fury, tearing and ripping his own veins even though using a knife would have been much cleaner. probably less painful, too. “swallow. now! come on, don’t you fall asleep on me now, focus!” he grabs your face and presses hard on the jaw joints, making you open your mouth like a puppet doll.

the sickly metallic taste of your own blood at the back of your throat from the internal bleeding mixes up with chris’s thick blood that he generously spits into your mouth, and you want to throw up. your head feels dizzy as your eyelids are getting heavier, your hearing suddenly fails completely as if someone turned the volume down from ten to zero. limbs are falling weak, and the pins and needles in them are so, so far from pleasant.

the thing about turning is... you actually have to die first. be fully, completely gone to be able to come back changed and corrupted, turned to the extent of your DNA having been violently rewritten. that you did not think through enough. the muscles in your throat contract almost on reflex, swallowing and gagging on the gooey salty substance, making your chest heave while coughing strangles you further. the tingles and nausea are so overwhelming and all consuming you actually catch yourself thinking dying would be a relief now. and then it follows as you wished.

you doze off for god knows how long but, by the looks of it, it can’t have been more than a few minutes because as you regain consciousness, chris is still looming over you, his own blood fresh on his lips. he’s blurry, though, everything is.

“come on, suck on me. c’mon, baby, there we go,” he coos as he brings his wrist to your lips, forcefully pressing it into your mouth and leaving you with little to no choice. the phrasing, unlike usual, doesn’t sound dirty or hot now, more like a life-saving command while you’re still so out it. it feels good, though, chris’s blood.

it doesn’t taste so metallic and gross anymore, and the texture feels almost soothing on your dry throat, like hot honey milk on a friday evening. suck, gulp, suck, gulp, suck, it almost lulls you back into serenity, some primal instinct of being attached to your only life line, finding comfort in someone’s warmth and touch and taste.

you wonder how much you’ve drunk already and whether chris will have anything left but you’re so, so thirsty you can’t even bring yourself to care.

what finally makes you stop is the sudden sharp ache in your gums. it feels so piercing the aftershocks are almost reaching your brain and eye sockets, and as you feel your old teeth fall out, a pair of longer fangs cuts through and settles into the upper teeth row. hot tears are stinging your eyes and you whine like a wounded deer, still unable to speak properly. it’s all too much, and you start to regret what you’ve done, and maybe, just maybe that’s why chris so passionately refused to put you through it. this kind of hunger and the animalistic, blood thirst driven rage were never something he wanted to inflict upon you.

your entire body is shaking but it’s not really a fearful tremor, more like restlessness, a new sort of “itch” somewhere deep, deep inside that you’ve never experienced before, the feeling so intense and soul wrenching you simply can’t disobey it. it makes you want to jump up and run.

“don’t worry, i’ll teach you how to handle it.” chris cups your face after taking off his leather gloves so you can feel the comfort of his actual skin. the touch is calming, but barely enough compared to that growing desire and need to satisfy the itch. “you stupid crazy cunt, why do you never listen,” he whispers into your forehead, his lips lightly brushing over your cold sweat covered skin, as he holds you closer, squeezing you against his chest in a protective manner, though the real danger to yourself is now planted within you.

[5sospenguinqueen]

Papaya Rules | Oscar Piastri x Driver! Reader

Summary: From on-track rivals to reluctant teammates, the trauma of team orders issued by Mclaren bond you and Oscar in a way you never expected. 

Warnings: mentions of papaya rules, swearing

Requested: Yes by @1800-love-me (a while ago. oops)

F1 Masterlist

━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━

2023 

f1 posted a new story

itsyn_ln replied and that’s community service for piastri  → f1 girl, aren’t you supposed to be in the media pen → itsyn_ln five more minutes → i’m in no rush 

mclaren replied no time to explain but we need you to delete this before oscar sees → we need them to get along

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mclaren just posted

liked by landonorris, jackdoohan and others

mclaren breaking news mclaren f1 racing is pleased to announce that yn ln will be joining the team in 2024, alongside oscar piastri, on a multi-year contract. we cannot wait to see what she can achieve with us

33,814 comments

itsyn_ln thank you for this opportunity! now i need to figure out how to make orange look good on me 

→ mclaren everything looks good on you

username1 wait, what? she’s oscar’s public enemy #1 and now she’ll be his teammate?

oscarpiastri and this is how i find out?

→ mclaren we didn’t want to give you a chance to protest

→ pierregasly i knew before oscar did? ha! 

→ oscarpiastri don’t make me still target the pink car next year

→ itsyn_ln i’m feeling unwanted 

jackdoohan @/itsyn_ln thanks for the seat 

→ itsyn_ln i hope i kept it warm for you! 

username2 poor osc is going to have to learn to manage this oddness

→ username3 poor osc is probably more focused on having to learn not to strangle her

alpinef1team losing another driver to the sinister evil and orange team 

→ itsyn_ln at least you’ll miss me. i’m starting to think pierre lied when he said he would

→ pierregasly of course i did. you were staring straight at me without blinking

username4 don’t get me wrong, i can’t wait to see yn in a better car but i fear this was poor planning on mclaren’s part. they’re going to struggle with managing their drivers 

landonorris i’m sorry, osco. i didn’t know me leaving was going to lead to this

→ oscarpiastri you’re not forgiven. 

username5 i fear mclaren are not going to have the dream team they were expecting

→ username6 they need to prepare to see both papaya cars dnf’ing all the time next year

username7 i need that jacket! 

→ mclaren all yn merch coming soon! 

→ username8 they move fast. they’ve already got her in papaya and prepared to release her papaya merch 

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2024

mclaren just posted

liked by patriciooward, gabrielbortoleto_ and others

mclaren and it’s a papaya 1-2 what a race! a phenomenal display of teamwork from oscar and yn

55,098 comments

username9 wtf was that 

username10 i can’t decide which one of them was robbed more 

username11 so they want them to become friends but then force them to concede wins???

username12 i never want to hear the phrase ‘papaya rules’ again. idk what it means but i know it was shit

username13 the fact that neither of them have interacted with this post shows that they’re not happy with their 1-2

username14 you guys need to chill. they were coming under fire from max, and yn was faster. oscar was holding her up and if they hadn’t have switched, max could’ve had them both 

→ username15 there was two laps left. i’m sure they could’ve managed it

→ username14 did you not see all the purple sectors max was setting 

username16 i hope oscar doesn’t blame yn for this

username17 unrelated but i love how much shorter yn is than osc in this pic. they’re so cute

→ username18 they’re mortal enemies. don’t start romanticising them

→ username19 they are so enemies to lovers coded 

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oscarpiastri just posted

liked by itsyn_ln, arthur_leclerc and others

oscarpiastri enjoying a week off

44,287 comments

mclaren does this mean we’re friends again

→ oscarpiastri not yet

username1 mr piastri, sir, um, is that a WOMAN?

username2 look, it’s very nice to see that you’re alive and well but we no longer care about that because who is that in the last pic?! 

charles_leclerc son, you didn’t tell me about this 

landonorris a new teammate and a new partner. i see i’m being fully replaced

→ oscarpiastri don’t fuel the rumours about us

username3 oh so this is why twitter is freaking out

username4 the linked hands

username5 yn liked this? are they friends now??

itsyn_ln just posted

liked by mclaren, landonorris and others

itsyn_ln my boyfriend just won a grand prix, bitches! 

73,220 comments

pierregasly was this meant to be posted on the burner account??

→ itsyn_ln oh shit

→ oscarpiastri oh, sweetheart

→ charles_leclerc and everyone thought i would tell! 

itsyn_ln well, no point deleting it now. enjoy

→ username6 yn and oscar are dating?!!?

→ username7 and he calls her sweetheart?!?!?

username8 no one understands how precious these two are to me

username9 enemies to lovers come true

username10 these two were written by a wattpad user

alpinef1team sometimes we think we miss you and then you do stuff like this 

→ mclaren sure you don’t want her back 

→ username11 noooo don’t take our papaya partners away from us 

username12 i’ve only had ynoscar for five minutes but if anything happens to them, i will kill everyone

username13 they said i was crazy but i knew! i knew there was passion between their feud

landonorris and you did so good to not kiss him in front of the cameras

→ oscarpiastri she’s more annoyed that now she shouldn’t have bothered

→ itsyn_ln want to smooch you for the world to see

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requests open

coming soon; max taste part 3 and franco x driver! reader

[buckyalpine]

CEO Bucky takes his anger out on his secretary (ft smut)

Imagine CEO!Bucky accidently taking his anger out on his already stressed out secretary. He gets mean and you will deal with it because I wanted this angst turned smut to go from chest itching to stomach fluttering. 

-

Your stomach twisted in knots looking at the pile of papers you had stacked on your desk, the phone still ringing while new messages popped up in your email inbox every 5 minutes. The files had to be organized by the next meeting and the number on the phone display was one you couldn’t ignore. The back to back messages were from various investors, each person insisting they were a priority over the others. You kept the receiver between your ear and shoulder, your hands flying around your desk madly between papers and tapping your keyboard. 

You quickly added a few more meetings to the calendar before hurrying to your bosses office to remind him of one he had later that afternoon. You hesitated before knocking at the door, the closed doors indicating he was busy, but you knew he’d want a heads up about the meeting. 

“Mr. Barnes, you have a meeting with Stark Enterprises at 3:30-

“Didn’t I tell you to move this meeting to next week?” Bucky snapped, blue eyes glaring at you while you blinked in confusion. “Well?” 

“N-no” You shook your head, you’d never missed an email before and you’d always been on top of scheduling changes on time. Bucky mumbled something under his breath before waving you off, the shrill sound of his phone going off. 

“Barnes” Bucky grunted, answering the phone without looking back at you, leaving to you scramble away and figure out if you could rearrange the date with Tony Stark. 

Which was a mess in itself. 

You had to argue back and forth, pleading to no end for a different day with Starks assistant only reluctantly agreeing after nearly half an hour. 

“You really should be more responsible, can’t believe Barnes has the likes of you working under him” the woman on the phone clicked her tongue before slamming down the receiver, cutting the call. You sighed, taking in a deep breath to calm the tightness you felt in your throat, you didn’t have time to break down now. 

You printed the up coming contracts for Bucky to sign, organizing them by name and highlighting the places he had to sign so he didn’t have to bother finding the space for signatures. You scurried back into his office, dreading the tense click of his jaw, your nerves increasing even more. 

“Sir, these are your papers-” You stumbled over the corner of the rug, scattering the papers onto the floor, your heart hammering out of your chest when you saw Bucky irritatedly run his fingers through his hair. 

“For fucks sake, y/n, I’m already stressed, don’t screw more shit up!” He growled, eyes hardening at the sight of the papers strewn across the floor of his office while you stayed frozen on the spot. Your eyes glossed over, quickly scrambling to the floor to grab the documents, mumbling apologies over and over again, hoping none of your tears stained the paper. The sight of tears streaking down your face broke Bucky out of his frustrated state, instantly regretting the tone he’d used with you. 

“Fuck” Bucky cursed under his breath, getting out of his chair to help you but you’d already managed to pick everything up, immediately trying to scramble away.

“Y/n” 

You didn’t stop, unable to take more of Bucky’s wrath, continuing to hurry towards the door, desperately trying to hold down your sniffles and aggressively wiping your cheeks. 

“Y/n” 

Bucky sighed, gently reaching out to grab your arm and pulling you to face him, his feeling even worse when you kept your eyes trained on the floor, your arms wrapped around yourself. 

“I’m sorry, p-please d-on’t yell” You choked out, still trying to hold your composure together, fighting the way your body wanted to break down into sobs 

“It’s okay. I’m sorry, I’m sorry” his heart broke seeing the tears collecting in your lash line, his thumb swiping away the ones that spilled out. “M’sorry baby” he wasn’t sure where the pet name came from but he couldn’t help it, letting it naturally roll off his tongue. You were still rigid, refusing to look at him, nearly flinching when he pulled you closer, tilting your chin up to meet his steel blues. 

“Look at me” He spoke softly now, as if he were trying to coax a small animal out of hiding, his touch gentle, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have yelled at you”

“It’s okay” you shrugged, slipping out of his hold, quickly wiping your face and going back to work as if nothing had happened. Even though he’d apologized, his words rang through your mind for the rest of the day. 

In fact, they stuck with you through the entire week. 

Bucky hated the way you didn’t even look at him anymore. He missed your soft good mornings and shy smile whenever he walked into his office. Now all you did was keep your head down, freezing in fear as soon as you heard his footsteps. And it was all his fault. 

He despised that he made you feel scared of him, his own anger being the cause of upsetting you when you had been nothing but sweet from the day he’d met you. You were also the best he’d ever had; no one else had ever come close to how brilliantly you worked; you never missed anything. He nearly spat out the coffee that was placed on his table, missing the perfect cup you made for him every morning. 

You only spoke 1-2 words, retreating from his office as soon as you got what you needed, your eyes always trained on the floor, looking away from him. He couldn’t take it anymore, feeling more guilty each day; he couldn’t go on any longer without your sweetness. 

You blinked at the baby pink roses that sat in a basket on your desk along with a little bear placed on top, a small hand made I’m Sorry heart sitting in its furry hands, clearly in Bucky’s handwriting. You traced over the soft teddy holding it in your hands before going to his office. Before you could say anything, Bucky was up and out of his seat, desperately hoping you’d hear him out. 

“M’sorry y/n” His soft eyes were filled with sadness and regret as he reached out to hold your hands in his, not wanting you to run off again, “I’m so sorry angel, there’s no excuse, I shouldn’t have yelled at you” 

“It’s fine” You whispered, still avoiding his gaze. 

“Hey, it’s not fine” Bucky shook his head, cupping your face to make you look at him, “It’s not baby, I shouldn’t have ever treated you that way. You do everything for me, I shouldn’t have taken out my anger on you” 

“I shouldn’t have messed u-

“Don’t, absolutely not. You never do sweets, it was me who messed up. Never you. Will you forgive me, doll?” Bucky nervously bit his lip while you gave him a small nod, that adorable shy smile he loved so much making its way to your lips. 

“God, I missed this” He whispered, his thumb tracing over your lips, chuckling at the tiny confused pout you gave him after.

“What did you miss” 

“This little smile you always have whenever you’re around me” Bucky smirked at the way you grew more bashful, doe eyes darting about, “Do you have any idea how much I love when you look at me like that?” 

“Mr-Mr. Barnes” Your breath hitched in your throat as his hands slowly moved to hold your waist, pulling you closer. Your hands made their way to his chest to ground yourself, forgetting how to breathe as he pressed his lips against yours. It started off soft and slow; his sweet tongue turning sinful as he walked over to his chair, pulling you to straddle him without breaking apart once. You let out a needy whimper feeling him harden under you though Bucky was still focused on kissing your soft skin, his lips fluttering across every inch. 

You’d never been this close to Bucky before, the intoxicating scent of his cologne making your heart race, his calloused large hands roaming your body. You hadn’t even realized you were grinding down on his thick bulge until he let out a groan, stilling your hips. 

“Keep that up bunny and you’ll make me cum in my pants like a little boy” Bucky let out a strained chuckle, using every bit of his self restraint not to tear your clothes off. 

“Please?” You wiggled against him again, needing to be closer, Bucky’s resolve slowly crumbling. How could he hold back when you were practically humping your soaked needy cunt right on his erection. 

“Please what, sweets” 

“Need you Sir” your voice had melted in a whine and that was all it took. The sound of his belt buckle hitting the floor caused more arousal to dampen your panties, nearly drooling at the sight of his cock as he pulled it out. 

“Are-are you sure?” He checked with you once more, not wasting a second ripping your blouse off as soon as you nodded. He threw your bra off next before lifting your skirt up and pulling your panties to the, rubbing his fingers through your folds. 

“Sir, pleasee” 

“I got you, I got you baby. Wanted to make love for our first time angel, give you a bed with rose petals n’ champagne over ice” He whispered, recounting every fantasy he’d thought of from the day he’d met you, “Wanted to make you feel good baby, throw your legs over my shoulders and nurse off this little clit”

He rubbed your sensitive bundle of nerves, continuing. 

“N’ then you’d be my sweet pillow princess. I’d let you lie down all night while I fuck your soul angel. I’d give you my cum all night, pump you full of my cream” 

“Need you now” You whimpered, clutching onto the lapels of his blazer, not that you didn’t want everything he was telling you but you couldn't wait. 

“Alright baby, c’mere” He pulled you closer, your bare chest pressed against his as he rubbed his swollen cockhead to gather your slick before breeching your tight hole, his hips gently pushing up till he was buried to the hilt, “That’s it, shhh take all of me” 

Bucky gave you a second to adjust to his size, his wide hands splayed across your body to hold you in place as he began to thrust up. You gasped in pleasure, your voice melting into a moan as he picked you up and placed you on his desk, pushing your thighs to hit your chest, hitting an even deeper angel. 

“OH GOD-MR-BARNES” You wailed as he fucked you harder, his heard thrown back, tie loosened, tightening the grip he had on your legs, keeping you spread out wide open. He groaned at the sight of his thick cock disappearing in and out of you while you moaned and sobbed on his desk, taking everything he gave you. 

“That’s right baby, say my name, let everyone know who makes you feel this good” He grunted through gritted teeth, holding off his orgasm while bringing his thumb to rub your clit again. 

“I-I’m gonna-OH-GOD-PLEASEE

“Fuck you sound perfect” Bucky moaned feeling you choke his length, fluttering and pulling him deeper as your orgasm washed over you, his own release dangerously close. “God you feel so fuckin’ good when you cum baby. One more angel, just one more” Bucky practically pleaded with you, speeding up his fingers till he saw your eyes roll back, silent screams leaving your mouth as your juices soaked his balls. 

“Fuck m’cumming so hard for you baby” He groaned, giving you a few more sloppy thrusts before stilling and spilling ropes of cum into you. He kept his cock inside while bending down to pick you up and sit back in his chair again. He sat with you for a while, petting your hair and kissing you, whispering sweet nothings. 

“Ready to go?” He whispered, looking down to see if you’d fallen asleep while you snuggled into him with your eyes closed. 

“Too tired sir” You pouted, nuzzling into his chest, refusing to move, your body too fucked out to even stand. 

“I got you baby” Bucky smiled, shrugging off his blazer and wrapping you up before carrying you away in his arms, ready to take you home, right where you belonged “Gonna make love to my pretty girl” 

[gremlingottoosilly]

What lies within (Tentacle!Monster!Konig x fem!Reader)

It's mating season for monster hybrids. Unfortunately for you, the colonel didn't have time to dump his eggs everywhere. TW and tags: Non-con, size difference, oviposition, monster hybrids, forced breeding, belly bulging, yandere Konig, possessive Konig, tentacles, double penetration. Word count: 3278

The brave new world of opportunities for monsters.

The illustrious life for those who are not afraid of being a hunter in the billion flocks of weak, stupid prey. 

There are endless possibilities for the ones who decide to serve in the various armed forces specifically tailored to monsters. 

And loads of other bullshit that König had to endure every day on the briefs. Propaganda, advertisement, and weak attempts to make a new generation of monster hybrids abandon their old ways and join either army or contracting forces, making them glorified mercenaries. Jaided and disillusioned, the colonel long abandoned the thoughts that service can be fun, that it can bring him something other than money and occasional bullets in various places. 

“Most inclusive workplaces for monsters,” his ass. They were fed bullshit on top of other bullshit, and he is already tired of war – but there isn’t much he can do besides it. The payment is nice, he gets to eat his enemies and tears through entire units of squishy, weak humans who make perfect snacks from their useless fucking bodies. 

— So. Abandoned by your team, ja? 

Unfortunately for him, sometimes war operations meant that he was not supposed to eat prisoners – he was supposed to take them, hoard them into rounds, and send them for either ransom or whatever higher-ups wanted to do with them. Sometimes, it’s torture for information, sometimes, it’s attempts to bring them to their side if they are worth it. 

Sometimes, he just looked in the eyes of a soft, squishy little prey and just couldn’t bring himself to pull the trigger. 

Well…” sometimes” is a very big word. He had never once thought about keeping the POW for himself before he met this stupidly beautiful, soft nurse with a perfect face, nice pair of legs in that ugly baggy uniform, and the most beautiful scent in the entire…

He never thought of keeping the prisoner for himself before he met you. 

It was supposed to be an easy mission for you – he can see it from your lack of normal armor. Either you had no idea that KorTac had their own plans for whatever you wanted to do here, or your contractor is extremely cheap. He likes either way – you smell like a human, and he likes dumb humans who would make perfect victims. You smell and look weak, trembling, perfect fucking pray for someone like him. König didn’t feel the need to transform for this battle. Your team ran away like a bunch of bunnies before he ever fired his first shot, but he could still feel his tentacles slowly stir under his hood. He can feel his body transforming without the need to – and he feels the pressure in his lower stomach. 

When was the last time he was able to put his eggs somewhere other that cold, unforgiving air? 

Even the bagginess of your uniform doesn’t obscure him from looking at the sway of your hips, at the perfect surface of your tummy, and feeling the smell of your ripe, fertile body. Having a strong sense of smell always came like a curse in the team of monsters where showering after a mission isn’t something that is done by many, buy König can appreciate his nose now – he can smell how perfect you are for breeding. How scared, too. 

Poor thing, probably terrified of his. König knows how he looks, even in his human form – tall, broad, bigger than any man you saw before, so much more muscular that even with your military training as a combat nurse, he could still break your spine with one hand. His size is something that made it impossible to find a partner normal ways – monsters are naturally too dominant to ever submit to him, and humans are simply too scared to deal with someone like him. He isn’t surprised, no – if anything, he understands completely. 

You sob, your voice is melting with incomprehensible pleas and little whines. You are shaking under him – a poor, dumb girl who wasn’t aware that her best shot at surviving was to try and shoot his crotch off before he pulled a gun out of your hands. 

— Pl…please, you can’t…you can’t do this! It’s a crime, I was on medical duty, it’s…

König likes humans because they are dumb. Civilian humans are even cuter – run around, thinking their lives are protected by sets of laws and rules that, in fact, don’t apply to the strong – and you, in your full half-military half-civvie glory, are fucking perfect. You whine and sib, tears running down your face when he presses you under him. Your hand hits the hard rocks of the ground, and he shifts slightly, dragging you closer to a softer patch of grass. 

He laughs when you are trying to scramble from under him, your lower half is pinned by his weight – he is surprised you can still move. You move your pelvis, trying to get out – and he moans quietly when you start rubbing your crotch against his. You freeze, fear spreading on your face – god, he missed that feeling. When was the last time he got to actually breed someone? Or even just have sex with someone as cute? 

— You really think so, Schatzen? That rules will protect you? 

He moves his crotch against yours, making you sob a bit more. You’re sweet and compliant, and he just loves breaking soft things like you – it’s a desire to break, to destroy, to make you his. He knows that, technically, forcing himself on women from enemy lines really is a war crime. He also knows that if he’d managed to breed you with his eggs, monster laws would never allow you to separate after mating. 

Besides, it's not like he is going to let you go, so you could tell on him. König never believed in love at first sight, but you would be a perfect vessel for his eggs and his tentacles – what else would he need from a wife, right? 

— You’re pretty. 

He says plainly, his hand goes to rub your chest through the fabric of your uniform. You won’t need those ugly clothes anymore – he’d make sure to buy you something nice and frail that won’t make you too uncomfortable to carry his eggs. Maybe a soft, frail dress or some of those cute maternity clothes when your body starts to change. He can’t wait to see his breasts swelling with milk – even if his unfertilized eggs won’t need it, he certainly would. Even if you’re too weak to handle his load, he’d make sure to get you a nice, firm plug and keep you on his tentacles constantly. 

You start to sob even more when you understand what he is trying to do – when he rips your pants to reveal the softness of your cunt and the fragility of your [anties, you actually manage to push your legs against his dick a good few times. He is too aroused to notice – if anything, he likes how fiery you are, your little yells and loud screams for help. No one will come to aid you – he barked the orders for his soldiers to go and fuck around somewhere else while he was busy devouring his little prize. Colonel doesn’t like having an audience – if anything, he is saving your dignity right now. If anything, he is remarkably soft when he pushes one of his long, red tendrils down your body, massaging your pussy through your panties. 

You’re moist already when his tentacle finds a way to your labia. What a slutty nurse you are – getting off the enemy colonel breeding you in the middle of the battlefield. Your tears mean nothing when he is too busy massaging and pressing and playing with your sticky, puffy folds – poor girl, so deprived of attention that even the weird texture of his extensions only fuels your desire. 

So fragile, so perfect – and so, so wet that your adorable white panties are already become transparent, sticking to your soft pussy. When he takes you home, he’d make sure to forbid you from wearing any underwear at all – you would meet him dressing in nothing but his shirts, a hand on your tummy to support the weight of your eggs. Walls of your pussy clenching on the plug he’d make to insert in you every morning. 

— Don’t…please, don’t, n…

You whine ever so sweetly, trying to close your legs so he won’t be able to touch you. It’s futile, just one of his tendrils is ten times stronger than your hands. He gets through your closed legs, buried in the moistness of your sweet, perfect pussy. You taste heavenly – just one minute enough to make him hungrier than before. König’s mating season was often postponed due to constant adrenaline rushes and things he takes to enhance his battle abilities – but he can feel eggs pressing at the inside of his body now, preparing to be released in the sweet heat of your body. But he has to prepare you first. 

— Quiet now. It won’t hurt unless you want it to. 

His tendrils are coming to moisten your pussy even more – sweet numbness filling your body from the lower stomach and right to your head. Knowing that you must feel dizzy and just a tad bit dumb, König can’t wait but chuckle. He likes you empty-headed, adorable dumbness in your eyes. He knows that he doesn’t know you, that you might even already have a boyfriend on the civil side of your life – but he doesn’t care. His mind doesn’t easily fall for just anyone,  but if he saw a perfect vessel in you, there is no escape. At least he is nice enough to be gentle. 

You whimper slightly when he pushes the first tendril inside of you. Too impatient to use his hands or tongue to make you feel a bit more at ease – after all, you are still on the battlefield, even if your friends abandoned you to get picked up by KorTac. Too impatient to soothe you with his words, he uses one of his smaller, thinner tentacles to push your pussy walls, make you squeeze him and milk for all his worth. You are wet, but not enough to take him without crying. Hot and soft, the cold texture of his extensions contrasts with your body too much – you are shaking, he can feel slight vibrations at the soft walls of yours. 

Fitting him like a glove, too perfect to exist – he just wants to take you with him, to flip you on your tummy and push all of his tentacles inside. You’re tight and warm, you make him go crazy from desire. It’s weird how a strong and mighty colonel can be so charmed by just some enemy nurse, but when you whine slightly and try to adjust your body to fit more comfortably under him, he just knows that he has to take you. That, no matter how much you are crying and praying for him to stop, you want to be used by him. Perhaps, with certain training, you would want his eggs, too. 

Second tendril caught you by surprise. Just when you started to adjust to the weird, slimy feeling of something writhing inside of you, spreading your tight walls around it and clashing with the heat of your insides, a second, bigger one started to press on your clenched folds. You wanted to beg, to ask him to stop – you’re too tight for this, too small, you would never be able to take even just one of his tentacles, you were…

But his tendrils press easily, he accesses lube spreading between your legs. You are sobbing from the feeling, and he is laughing. His hand goes to rip the upper part of your clothing, revealing your midriff. Fingers pressing on your tummy, just to feel his tentacles inside – he laughs when the skin of your stomach is tensed up, revealing the outlines of his extension. God, he can’t wait to make your body swell from him. Even though the eggs are not bearing his children, he can imagine you and a bunch of little ones – you’d look much better like this than pretending to be a nurse. Honestly, what were you even trying to do on the battlefield? 

— Stay still, ja? 

— Too much! Please, n…no more…

— Poor thing. You’ll feel so much better after I add the third one. 

He knows that he is overstepping a bit, that your body isn’t used to taking something as big as his tentacles – but König also knows that his pre-cum makes you feel dizzy warm. Acting like a natural aphrodisiac, you won't be able to resist relaxing under him. The lubricant is enough to allow his other tentacle to force himself in your ass – he isn’t going to breed that hole yet, but it doesn't mean that he can’t use it. 

He groans loudly when your asshole clenches around him – he had to stretch you quite a bit, that sweet numbness of his precum isn’t making you relaxed enough to take him whole, but he is managing, one agonizing centimeter after another. At the point you’re out of breath, with your face all flushed, he already knows he fucking won – he knows that you, poor, fragile thing, isn’t going anywhere. He would say that he feels horrible about forcing you like this – but this is the start of a new, better life for you. Being the bride of a monster of his rank is a dream for any lowly human like you. Can go as far as to say you’re lucky he ever laid his eyes on you. 

— Stop, please…’s too much. 

— You feel good, Katzen. Relax, and you’ll be even better. 

— I don’t…please, just let me go, I…

— Is this your first time with a monster? 

— Yes. 

— Gut. Would break you in for me. 

He laughs at your whimpers, his hand goes to cradle your face in an almost soft expression. He gently presses his fingers across your skin, making you all nice and warm for him – he wants to kiss you all over, but the only thing he can do in his more monstrous form is to press one of his shorter tentacles against your lips, mocking the way normal people kiss. You sob, but he presses the tip on your mouth, passing it through your teeth – you would feel better after ingesting his pre-cum, can even clench around him so more, chasing your own pleasure. 

König wants you to feel good, so he presses his hand against your face, allowing you to tremble and cry as much as you want. He wants to be nice to you, so his other hand presses on your clit, finding the tense bud and breaking the nothingness between your legs. You tremble even more when he starts to spread your folds around his fingers, both of his tentacles working to milk your holes and spread you as much as possible. 

He whispers sweet nothings in your ear when both of the tendrils working on your pussy suddenly change their direction – they start to spread your walls instead of just fucking it. You feel exposed and vulnerable, he can see the pink flesh and glossiness of your cunt. It’s embarrassing for you, and he knows it – but god, you’re too fucking perfect to pass. 

You don’t even manage to ask him what he is doing when you feel something much larger pressing against your pussy. The biggest of his tentacles – almost as thick as an arm, pushing inside of you. He had a purpose, a desire to do something with you that you could never understand – silly humans know nothing about his biological need to push his eggs somewhere, of course, but you’re just fucking perfect. Too perfect to pass on this opportunity. 

You plead and cry when he presses further, a little bump on your tummy is obvious now, with each centimeter of his tendril pushing. When he finally bottoms inside of you, pressing directly against your cervix, you are too fucked out to even think. 

It’s painful, you think. Three thick tentacles roam inside your pussy, pushing and grinding against your gummy, tight walls – and another one of his extensions in your ass, writhing and massaging your insides. 

It’s pleasurable, you feel. The tentacles are uneven, cold, each little bump makes you cry out from pleasure, the overwhelming feeling is something you could never achieve with a normal dick. He cradles your face and chuckles softly when you moan and cry at the same time when he gently presses his red tendril against your soft lips, and you part them because you don’t want to resist anymore. Because you can’t resist anymore. 

— So good for me. Such a good girl, liked being fucked by the enemy. 

— I don’t like it! He laughs at your misery, pushing his tentacles back only to fuck you harder. He can feel the tension multiply in his stomach – he feels the movement of eggs forming from inside and pushing down the biggest one of his tendrils. 

When you first feel the pressure of an egg in your pussy, you want to scream. 

You scratch on his hands like a wild cat, clenching on him like crazy. If he didn’t see horror and shock on your face, he’d think you wanted him. You are tight, tighter than you were before – your pussy is closing around him, not letting him go, and he can only smile to himself when he feels every little bump sending electric shocks right into your core when you feel his eggs traveling from the start of his tendrils down, to your soft, welcoming womb. 

God, you will look perfect, all swollen and helpless – he can bring you a fucking collar, maybe push you on his lap and parade you as his precious wife for everyone to see. His scent lingers on your body, no matter if you want it or not. Silly human, you try to fight him like you didn’t lose the moment you let him pin your body. So perfect, he thinks of where you were before he found you. How many partners do you have, and how well would you play the role of his little breeding machine.

 He massages your tummy, with each egg taking its place in your womb. Soothes tense skin and whispers sweet promises in your ear when you cry and try to push him away. So perfect, so sweet for him – he doesn’t know the fuck he lived without you. 

When the last egg takes its place, making you bulge from all the weight inside of you, he can finally calm himself down enough to bring his human form partially. When he finally retracted his tentacles from your tired, sensitive body, not forgetting to press against your clit a good few times to prolong your unwanted, exhausting orgasm, he could finally press a kiss on your lips. 

You’re a mess – torn clothes, covered in cum and thick transparent slime, trembling and crying softly. You close your pussy around every one of his eggs like a good girl, and he knows you would be a perfect mating partner – but god, you need a good shower and soft mattress so he can try to fuck you again in his human form, and steal all the hugs and silly affections he wanted. 

— Will you let me go? 

He laughs, picking you up swiftly. So fragile in his hands, he doesn’t even want to think about letting you roam freely. 

— Of course not, Schatzen. Just get used to it, ja? 

[scara-writes]

paramour

Yandere!Cheating Duke X Duchess! Reader X Yandere!Lover Servant

I just want to write a reader who has the same/more power as/to the yandere(s).

The setting is still in the fantasy/manhwa world, medivial, any setting as long it's not modern.

CW: two yandere, rivals, cheating, consent smut, infidelity.

I'm making the darling a little more forward(?), daring, more power or that can go against a yandere. Atleast, that's what the darling thinks. Also, this is not polished like my other stories.[ Forgive me, I'm not good with smuts! I also love y'all comments and your ask/request(will answer them soon!). The Yandere Emperor and Yandere Crown Prince son really outnumbered the yandere Omega. Y'all are crazy for that!]

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

"Mistress." He murmured. His arms hadn't let go off your waist. It was the first thing your eyes landed on when the sunlight came in to greet a new day from the window balcony. You closed your eyes again to find your way back to sleep again.

Your hands went to trace his back full of scar last night from your nails. You hummed when he gave you a pepper kisses on your exposed skin.

"Morning." He gave you one last kiss on your lips before snuggling between your chest. His arms hadn't move around your waist since last night."Mmmh..morning..." You muttered looking away—eyes still close—from the sun when it kissed your face.

"Do you want me to call the maids to serve you breakfast?" His sweet voice lull to sleep more. You whispered no. Last night, this man gave you something akin to that of heaven, something your husband never gave you.

Last night, you made love with this man. The same man you rescued from the human trafficking, kidnapping commoner from the outskirts of the kingdom. Now, indebted by your kindness he devout himself to you with his life.

You groaned, feeling your body is aching all over. This goes not unnoticed by your lover."Did I hurt you to bad?" He asked. His earth orbs are gleaming with shine and now getting filled with tears. "I-I'm sorry, I was rough with you mistress." His voice full of regret and loathe on himself.

You opened your eyes, ruffling his curly brown hair before stroking it. Staring down at his eyes. "No. You did good." You smiled at him, cupping his face, before kissing him in the lips. He whimpered,deepening his into yours.

The intoxication of alcohol must have taken over you. Drowning yourself from the alcohol beverages after your husband didn't arrive on the scheduled date, you waited for him for a whole day to arrive. Alone in the gazebo, Everett was the one who went to your weeping figure. That was a month ago. Everett offered himself to shower you with his love. At first you feel reluctant about this, you will never be the type of person to use someone just so you can feel yourself happy. Everett didn't care about it whether you use him or not. He wanted to prove himself that you are worth to be love. This man made your heart flutter in a way that your husband once gave you before the marriage.

"I-I love what happened last night, my mistress." He whispered bashfully, his pretty swollen lower lip,you bitten hard last night, went to reach his eyes giving you a wide smile. The sun kissed his tan face adding a charming look. His neck has full of bites and bruises from you. His cheeks become a little darker shade from blushing, he must have reminisced something last night.

Now, you made him your lover. Though not completely in love with Everett. You also shower him with items or materials that most commoners would love to have but it doesn't seem like this man is materialistic. He just wants you.

You didn't hide Everett to your husband.

What's the use of hiding your fling to Theodore when he was the first one to cheat on this marriage?

Despite being loyal to that man you loved. He had the audacity to tell you that you shouldn't pry on his private his life after you confronted him with a newly hired maid going out. "Our marriage contract states that the two parties should not meddle one another's private life else this contract shall be annuled."

So all of his flexing his love for you was nothing but a hoax? A show? A lure for you to agree to marry him?

Though, your marriage with him was for the politcial marriage. You once fell in love with Theodore. The same man who gave you flowers everytime you two date, the same man who kissed in your cheeks after he walk you home, the same man who always writes poems about his devotion to you. Did he pursuade you to continue this marriage by making you love him so that the two duchy became one? It may seem like you wanted this marriage at first. You didn't, your family wanted it and they have asked you—no annoyingly, they plead you to marry him, because your parents and his parents signed a contract that their children will reunite the two duchy.

"Your ladyship, the duke asked for your audience to join him in the breakfast." Your butler from the other side of your room, outside the door, knocked and speaks after. You frown upon hearing it, looking at the closed door, what does he want?

You feel strange about your husband nowadays. He had been asking for your presence this past few days. Never once he called for you after your wedding with him.

You clicked your tongue and turn to look at your lover. You notice Everett's face was frowning too. "Tell the duke that I will be there in a moment." You announced to the butler outside the room expecting the old man to gear you through it. You look back at the man leaning his weight on you. You tap the curly haired lover to let you go from his hold yet he didn't budge after moving yourself to sit up instead you heard yourself going 'oomfh!' and finding your lips were on his again. You groaned while he moaned weakly. He pushed you down on the bed, his lips never leaving yours until you were out of breath. A string of saliva trailed between your mouths. Everett was smiling before diving his lips into your skin, to one of your chest, fondling the other. You feel a little ticklish and panting at his stimulation. "Eve—! Wait! Ah..." Your voices went unheard, The male's mewling, sucking on to your flesh like thirsty man who hadn't had a drink.

Your hand went to tug his hair as you moaned out his name. "Shi—Eve... Oh! S-stop... Ah.."

His other hand goes to put one of legs above his back and parted the other leg, accessing himself between you even more."m-mistress!"

You groaned when you felt him grind between you. He looked at you with a pleading eyes, he look like he will cry again, the tears filling up yo the side from his eyes. "M-mistress." He whined his mouth was already in another mound. You feel his hardness between. "p-please? I'll be good! Please... huff..I'll make y-you feel good!"

Your eyes are hazy from the pleasure. "You want.. hah... it?" His eyes getting filled again with tears. You tug him by the hair not enough to hurt him. You landed your lips on his ears. Panting and breathless when you felt his hands is still fondling your body. "You got..ngh... to earn it, pretty boy." You murmurs made him whimpered. "You have to be my good boy... Are you my good boy?"

He nod, a tear fell down to his cheeks, he leaned down to your lips, murmuring, i-am-your-good-boys, thank-yous and I-love-yous.

The room filled with noises that could make anyone flustered and uncomfortable. You didn't realize from your high you are feeling that the butler is coughing uncomfortably behind the door excusing himself as he will inform the duke what you told him earlier.

You went down the stairs with a difficulty, aching between your thighs. You can't find any dress to cover the one hickey on your neck, Everett apologize and helped you cover it with a foundation but it failed horribly from covering seeing that the foundation wasn't blend well and you do not want your maids do it for you. Not when you found out that almost all of them had already been with your husband. You were planning to replace them sooner.

You stopped at the closed door leading to the dinning room. The butler from earlier straightened his posture, clearing his throat after he saw you. He announced your presence behind the door opening the door for you."My lord, your ladyship is here."

You walked in after thanking one of the male servant for pushing the seat for you once you sit across the lord of the household, your husband, the Duke.

The breakfast before you was served cold. If you have arrived earlier you could have eaten warm. You glance at your husband, surprised that his plate has not been finished and it looked like he didn't touched it. You noticed his eyes is trained on to you since you came in, yet his eyes isn't on you but to your neck and the way you walk earlier.

His grey eyes seemed to be narrowing, he scoffed. "You're late."

You glance away, picking one of the utensil, stabbing the meat, landing it to your mouth chewing it. You gulped it down before taking another bite. The marinated pork seems to be delicious even if the breakfast a little no warm.

"It seems you are enjoying with your toy a little too much." He added, there was anger rising beneath his voice.

Oh, the egg is a little bland but it is still edible nonetheless.

"There are more new reports about your speculated infidelity to the public. Do you know that?"

You looked at him after eating the last piece of the sunny side egg, smiling: finally acknowledging his presence."Yeah, what about it? It's not like it will ruin our marriage. After all, you had a numerous of headlines about your 'rumored' infidelity too. Did our contractwas nulled after that? It didn't right?"

"(Y/n)."

"Yes, husband?"

His eyes widened a little before going back on giving you death gaze. "Kick that slave away. I don't like him." He demanded. Though he wasn't shouting. You frowned, how dare he?

"Why would I? It's my decision whether I choose to throw him out or not."

"I do not want him near my property." He complained, gritting his teeth at the last word.

"This is my property as well!" You sternly answered back. Not leaving another room for an argument.

There was silence between the room.

"... I... don't want him near you." You heard him. You blinked at the sudden word that blurted in his mouth.

You scoff standing up, "I think I should finish my meal somewhere..." You starts walking back to where you enter the room.

"(Y/n)." Theodore called you. You didn't observe the way his eyes longed for you. You were focus on the anger within you. "Are we forgetting something, Theodore?" You questioned.

He pondered, those orb you used to love held a confusion.

"Meddling into your partner's private life will annul this marriage... Wasn't that written in our contract?" You bitterly told him. "Sounds familiar right? Do not dare demand me to throw away Everett." You added.

Finally waiting for this moment for this to happen. Guess he will get to taste his own medicine.

"... As long as we do our part in this household we will act as husband and wife. Is not that what you told me?"

"..."

"Now then, I will excuse myself. I have no longer desire to finish my breakfast here." With that, you leave him there.

When you reach the door, opening it, you were surprise to see Everett waiting outside. "What are you doing here?" You asked him. Your frowned face was replaced with a confusion look before giving him a small smile. The man infront of you return your smile with a small grin, placing one of his arm on your waist."W-well, I feel bored and alone in my own room. So I found myself waiting here w-with the butler. Besides I saw you walking wobbly earlier and I-I am concerned that you might have even more difficulty walking... So f-forgive me for not staying put." The look concern on his face adding the pout from his lips made him look cute.

"What are you a puppy?"You poke his nose giggling as you walk away with him, your eyes went back to talk to the butler. Telling him you want to continue your breakfast at your garden, asking him to make it for a two people. The butler bowing to your order before going to the kitchen area to order the maid.

Your husband on the other hand, loath with rage and jealousy mixing under his eyes. His eyes narrowed especially when the slave you brought in leaned on top of your head kissing at the crown part of your head, leaning to your ear to whisper something akin to sweet talks. The arm around your waist went to rub your back.

If only you glance again on Everett's face. You would have caught him giving your husband a smug smirk.

[toomanystoriessolittletime]

lunch break

Summary: Joel forgot his lunch at home. When you get to his work to bring it to him, he has you for lunch instead.

Pairing: Joel Miller x fem. reader

Wordcount: 1.1k

Raiting: E

Warnings: established relationship, no outbreak, breeding kink like woah, smut (unprotected sex, public sex, car sex) dirty talk, a little bit of exhibitionism, fluff too I guess

A/N: look, I don't know, this just happened, okay?

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Full Masterlist // Joel Miller Masterlist

This wasn’t supposed how you thought bringing lunch to Joel would end.

It was supposed to be a quick in and out to the job site, bringing him the lunch he had forgotten before getting back home in time for Sarah to get back from school and take her to the dentist. You had taken the whole day off especially for that because you knew how scared she was to go to the dentist and Joel couldn’t take the day off. 

The project Joel was currently working on was almost a 45 minute drive somewhere in the middle of nowhere. Apparently some billionaire had bought the whole land and was now building a luxury hotel, Miller constructions first big contract they had won. 

It were long and exhausting hours but Joel did it all with a smile. 

Sure, one on one time with him had gotten less and less but you were in it for the long haul with him. So long that you had moved into his place earlier in the year. So long that you had talked about having a baby together. 

Something that very much took the backroad since this project started a couple months ago. Or so you thought as you sucked your bottom lip between your teeth, Joel towering over you in the dusty bed of his truck as he pumped his thick cock into you with deep and long strokes, making it hard to keep quiet. 

You weren’t even sure how this happened. 

One moment you walked towards the three containers that had been set up for all the workers, walking towards Joel who was sitting with his back towards you, the next moment he had you under him in his truck bed, panties pushed to the side under the summer dress you had been wearing, making enough room for his cock to fill you, him not having even pulled off his jeans, only pushing it down far enough to free his cock.  

„Not gonna let me hear you, huh?“ He teased, voice low as he leaned in, his lips kissing up your neck, steadily thrusting his cock into you. 

„Don’t want your people to hear,“ you whimpered, one hand in his hair, to keep his mouth right where it was as he sucked softly on that one spot on your neck he knew drove you insane. You crossed your legs behind his back, moaning at the changed angle he was filling you. 

„So fucking sexy,“ he grunted, kissing down towards your collarbone, his fingers pulling at the front of your dress just so he could free one of your nipples, his lips closing around it immediately after, sucking harshly. 

Your mouth dropped open in a silent cry, head thrown back as you looked up into the blue sky above the tree his car was parked beneath. 

Joel was dirty and sweaty, the shirt he had left the house with this morning replaced by a white wife beater that was clinging to his sweaty body. Sweat was dripping down his neck and fuck you don’t think you have ever been more turned on. 

He nibbled on your nipple and you pulled at his hair. 

„Can’t wait till these are full of milk,“ he mumbled against your skin as he kissed himself up your body, nose brushing over your skin as his hips slapped against yours, shaking the whole truck. 

„Full of milk for the baby I’m gonna fuck into you,“ he said, eyes on you before he kissed you deeply, tongue diving into your mouth while he fucked you even deeper. 

You could hear some men laughing in the not so far distance, and you gasped as you remembered just where you were. Were you let Joel have his way with you. You clenched around his cock and he moaned against your lips. 

„Need you to cum for me, baby,“ his forehead came to rest against yours as he fucked into you. 

„Need you to cum so I can fuck my cum so deep inside of you, it’ll take. Gonna make you a mama,“ he murmured, and you gasped. 

„Fuck, Joel,“ you moaned. 

„You want that? Want me to keep you full of my cum?“ He groaned and you nodded.

„I want that. Want you inside me all the time,“ you whined and he groaned a low fuck against your ear as he buried his face against your neck. You wrapped your arms behind his back, one of your hands buried in his sweaty hair.

"Gonna look so good with my baby inside of you. Not gonna be able to keep my hands off of you once you start to show,“ he whispered against your ear and you shuddered. 

„Cum for me baby,“ he sucked on your earlobe. 

„Cum for me so I can pump you full of my cum. Full of my baby,“ he groaned and you clamped down on him, cumming hard. 

„Oh fuck,“ he groaned when he felt you come, following you almost immediately, moaning against your ear as he came, spilling inside of of you, pumping you full with his cum. 

Both out of breath you just stayed like this, for how long you didn’t know. Could be seconds, minutes or hours, you weren’t sure as you held him in your arms, feeling his warm breath against your neck as he laid on top of you. 

He knew how much you loved having him on top of you. 

You brushed your fingers through his hair, a content smile sneaking to your face. 

„Where did that come from?“ You asked after a while and he sat himself up a little so he could look at you. 

„I know you’re ovulating,“ he said and you raised one eyebrow, intrigued at him knowing that.  

„And I’m just really fucking horny for you,“ he said like it was the most normal thing, making you giggle. He chuckled, smiling widely at you before he kissed you softly. 

„Love you,“ you mumbled against his lips. 

„Love you more,“ he mumbled back. 

You were already driving back down the dirt road when Joel made his way back to the construction site, trying to glare at the very obvious smirks and winks he received from his colleagues. 

But who the fuck was he kidding?

He’d go through all the teasing in the world to have a lunch break like that every day. 

It was hours later that he realised, he never actually ate anything.