#but this is so broad n vague i'm like !?!?!?

[inkykeiji]

clari do u have touya-nii crumbs to spare pls 🥹🥹

what flavour of crumbs would u like anon bb??? <3

[norikuna]

ACCIDENTALLY YOURS! — jujutsu kaisen

prologue. → some not so meet-cutes 😁 who said love was easy?

pairings. jjk x gn!reader choso, toji, geto, nanami, sukuna, gojo.

warnings+. no curse/jujutsu au, slightly suggestive for toji's. attempted vehicular injuries but gojo's fine w/ it as long as he gets your number. some alcohol mentions. someone has a nosebleed.

word count. 6k! song inspiration. let me in (20 cube) — enhypen

a/n. this is saur silly, and i wrote this super quickly so it's not proofread.

CHOSO KAMO ✶ just trust me bro ... ?!

there's a man in your apartment.

at first, your brain short-circuits with options. scream, call the police, throw your used dinner dishes. why not all three in rapid succession?

it's nine at night, and all you wanted was to collapse into bed with a cozy throw and a criminal minds marathon. instead, fate or your carelessness in leaving the door unlocked, has gifted you with this stranger who just walked in.

this man didn't sneak in, mind you. no, this stranger barrelled through the door, let out a soft groan as he ran into your dining table. he then muttered a soft and polite 'excuse me' before plopping himself down onto your couch like he'd paid three months of rent.

and now? he's sitting there, hunched forward with his elbows on his knees and his head bowed. like he's contemplating the futility of existence, or whether he left the stove on at home. you can't quite see his face yet, just the curtain of messy chestnut hair falling over it.

what you can see is that he's wearing an oversized violet sweatshirt that's swallowing him whole, and right over dark cargo pants and scuffed combat boots.

well, now what?

your heart is hammering as you edge closer, gripping a fork behind your back like it's king arthur's sword. he's muttering something, no. a name?

you lean slightly, straining to hear.

"...yuuji, when i c-catch you."

but finally, the stranger looks up at you, as if he's searching your face for this 'yuuji.'

big hazel eyes stare up at you, bleary and glassy, and his lips are pouting, pale pink and peeled raw from where teeth have gnawed into them. his cheeks are slightly flushed, and he smells faintly of cheap alcohol.

great, the strange man in your living room is also drunk. you wonder where your phone is.

"uh, hey. are you one of yuuji's friends?" and the stranger's voice is absurdly deep, but incredibly shy, "can you get him? is he in his room?"

your brows furrow, "huh, who's yuuji? what room?"

the man blinks slowly, and he hiccups. a tiny, almost cute sound — and then he frowns, "yuuji? my little brother? lives here, obviously?" he gestures broad hands around vaguely, loosely.

"no. i live here."

his wide eyes scan the room. your glossy magazine on the table, a cup of hot chocolate next to your laptop which still glows with the not-so-legal streaming site. but you can see the very moment that the stranger's face freezes, like he's just been slapped in the face, "oh."

"yeah."

the stranger groans, dragging his hands down his flushed face and this only makes his clingy strands stick up in strange places, "oh no. oh, man. i — uh, think i'm in the wrong apartment."

"you think?"

"i was just tryna' find yuuji's place," he mutters, his words slurred but earnest, "we live, like, two floors down. but it's all the same, right? like...layout-wise?"

you open your mouth to argue, then close it. technically, he’s not wrong about the layout, but that’s hardly the point. "why didn’t you check the apartment number?"

"because i’m…" he pauses, thick brows knitting together like they’re searching for answers his brain won’t provide. finally, he lands on, "tipsy. yeah, tipsy. i actually really hate drinking, by the way. it was some stupid bet with my little brother."

you lift the fork a little higher, its tines gleaming under the dim overhead light. "so you broke into my apartment."

"hey, i didn’t break in!" he protests, his voice thick with indignation that doesn’t quite match the circumstances, "your door was open."

"unlocked," you grind out, ignoring the mildly adorable pout on his flushed lips,"not an invitation."

the man has the decency to look sheepish, one hand reaching up to scratch at his neck. "uh… yeah. my bad."

his bad? that’s the best he’s got? not a sorry for terrifying you! or a sorry for making you think you’re about to feature in a criminal minds special! but before you can really get going on the lecture building on your tongue, there’s a soft thud.

you glance down. your cat, the fluffy little traitor, is rubbing affectionately against the leg of this random man, purring like an old motorbike. meanwhile, the stranger just lights up, crouching down to scratch behind your cat’s ears with absurd gentleness.

"hey, buddy," he says softly, a crooked smile tugging at his mouth. and damn it, he’s got dimples.

"what’s wrong with you? traitor," you hiss at your cat, who just looks far too content in the man's arms.

the stranger looks back up at you with those wide, hazel eyes, his head tilting to the side. "i’m choso, by the way."

"i didn’t ask."

"you’re holding a weapon," choso observes, eyes flicking to your hand.

"it’s a fork," you snap. "and you’re in my apartment."

"touché," he mutters, slouching back into your couch like it’s his own. he looks too tired to argue before he starts rambling, words tumbling out in uneven waves, "look, i’ll leave, okay? sorry for...uhm, being here. it’s just been a rough day, y’know? my brother — he's my little brother, he dared me to drink, and i hate drinking. then the cab driver tried to scam me, and i kinda gave up on the bet and wanted to go home. i don’t even know how i ended up here."

he waves a hand around like the universe itself is to blame for the situation.

you should still be mad. and you are. sort of. but it’s hard to stay furious when the guy in your living room is practically drowning in a sweatshirt two sizes too big, cradling your cat like it’s a lifeline. there’s something weirdly endearing about him, even if your fight-or-flight response still has a foot on the gas.

"fine," you sigh. "but if you've left anything drunk and gross on my couch, you’re coming back tomorrow to clean it."

choso’s face brightens like you just granted him parole. "i didn’t, swear i didn't, but yeah. deal. you’re cool. what’s your name?"

you hesitate, fork still in hand. "why?"

"so i know who to thank when i hopefully sober up. i’m really sorry for scaring you."

"alright, choso." you point to the door. "out. and if i catch you here again uninvited, i’m calling the cops."

he staggers to his feet, towering but unsteady, still cradling your cat. "uh, can i…"

"no," you interrupt. "put mr pickles down."

he pouts but complies, setting the cat down like he’s handling precious cargo. as he shuffles to the door, he glances back, scratching the back of his head, "thanks for not stabbing me with the fork."

"yet, choso," you deadpan.

with that, he stumbles into the hallway, and you slam the door shut before finally locking it properly this time. it’s only then that you notice the little silver bracelet lying on the couch.

maybe when he's also sober, you’ll find him two floors down. not because you’re curious about him or anything. it’s just the responsible thing to do.

probably.

TOJI FUSHIGURO ✶ got a mean laugh, huh ?

you'd just wanted a burger. greasy, cheesy, unapologetically unhealthy — a perfect antidote to a day of endless meetings and passive-aggressive emails from your annoying boss.

what you didn’t want was to make an absolute spectacle of yourself in the middle of a restaurant.

but here you were, ever the universe's favourite clown and plaything.

it started innocently enough: you’d been sitting behind him in this faux-american diner, cheap enough that it didn't break your last paycheck.

minding your business and just sitting behind some two loud-talking men, one of them broad and terrifyingly large in a too-tight black gym shirt and the kind of wide-legged pants only men with way too much confidence could pull off.

then he started making strange noises.

at first, you tried to ignore it. who were you to interfere? but then it got louder — a gruff, guttural wheezing that sounded suspiciously like a man choking on his fries. your heroic instincts (and latent secondhand embarrassment) kicked in.

what can you say? you were a natural born avenger. you didn’t think. you acted.

scrambling out of your booth, you darted behind him, arms awkwardly looping around his absurdly muscular torso. it took more than one attempt — why was he built like a human brick wall?

but you managed to start the worst heimlich maneuver known to mankind, trying to remember your hazy first aid training from high school.

"hold still, man!" you grunted, struggling for leverage, and trying not to collapse backwards. "i got this!"

except he didn’t hold still. he started laughing. loud, throaty, barking laughs that only made the situation worse.

"stop squirming, you’re gonna end up choking even more —oh my god, are you fuckin' laughing?!"

"hey, i’m —" the stranger wheezed between gasps, not choking, just laughing so hard his voice cracked, "i’m not choking!"

you froze, mortified, arms still awkwardly wrapped around his incredibly chiselled torso. "you’re...not?"

"tch, nah." his voice was deep, almost lazy, as he twisted his head back to smirk at you, sharp green eyes gleaming with amusement. "but yer' real determined. if i was choking, i’d probably survive. maybe."

you stumbled back, cheeks flaming, trying to pretend the floor might swallow you whole. trying to pretend that someone didn't pull out their phone to record you.

the expensive-looking guy sitting across from him — a man in a sharp, well-pressed brown suit who clearly didn’t belong in a place with laminated menus and sticky booths, just sipped his coffee with an air of quiet disdain.

"i always said you got an ugly-ass laugh, toji," the man sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, "could ya not traumatise strangers for five minutes?"

"hey, it’s not my fault i got jumped," toji said, shrugging lazily, and the motion made his shirt ride up just enough to reveal a scar slicing across his ridiculously defined abs. "not that i’m complaining. i got humped by someone gorgeous in public. call that a good day, hah."

your brain short-circuited, trying not to stare at the light dusting of hair over his abdomen, "i wasn’t - humping, oh my god, i thought you were choking! i was just trying to be be a good samaritan."

you backed away slowly, trying to act like the horrifyingly awkward scene behind you had not just happened. you didn’t even spare toji a glance, though the smugness radiating off his gorgeous, stupidly muscular frame was practically tangible.

you grabbed your milkshake, your only ally in this tragedy, and downed it with all the dignity of a medieval knight trying to poison themselves with wolfsbane. the cold, creamy sweetness slid down your throat, like you were trying to drown yourself in the sugary oblivion. which you were.

"well," you muttered bitterly, setting the empty glass down with a clink, "i'm gonna disappear from here forever. just gonna...vanish." you made the universal gesture of disappearing: both hands dramatically flailing as if you were casting an invisibility spell.

"wait, hey, give me your number!"

the voice, deep and annoyingly gravelly, floated over the booth like a warm breeze. you stopped dead in your tracks, eyes narrowing in disbelief. no way. no freaking way.

"you’re joking." you turned slowly to glance back at him, at this toji. the guy in the suit across from him — who had been watching this whole disaster unfold with the kind of expression you’d imagine someone gets when they’re asked to hold a million-dollar briefcase during a hostage situation, was now doing the mental equivalent of sinking into his booth like a man deeply embarrassed.

"swear 'm not," toji insisted, leaning back in his own seat, "what if i really do choke and i need ya to save me?"

SUGURU GETO ✶ love at first nosebleed !

you were exactly where you needed to be: right in the thick of the mosh pit at one of your favourite festivals of the year. one that you had scrounged together enough dollars for an overpriced ticket out, all perfect to spend a night out in the cool, desert night air.

the mosh pit was packed. like wall-to-wall bodies, as though you were wading through a sea of waving limbs.

without any warning, the crowd surged forward in a wave of bodies, just as the lead singer of this band threw a rose into the crowd and you squealed. throwing your arms up to steady yourself, and of course, you managed to send your elbow directly into the guy standing behind you.

at first, there's a sharp grunt of surprise, swiftly followed by a:

"hey, what the fuck!"

you turned around in a panic, your breath caught in your throat as you saw the aftermath of your unfortunate swing. oh, blood. it wasn’t just a little trickle, either. it was a full-on fountain.

the stranger's hands were pressed to his face, but you could already see the crimson streaks spilling through his fingers. and as much as your brain screamed oh my god, what have you done?, your first thought was also, holy shit, this guy is gorgeous.

tall. broad. jawline that could cut glass. his hair was jet-black, falling messily to his shoulders, and when he looked up at you, you saw it. his eyes, pretty.

they were a pale, unnatural shade of purple, sharp and disarming, the kind of thing you only saw in movies. or at least, you thought you only saw them in movies, because now you were staring into them, and the moral compass on your shoulder stomped some sense back into you.

"oh god, i’m so, so sorry," you stammer, your hands flying up in a panic. you just didn't know whether to offer him a napkin or your life savings, so you just stand there like a deer caught in headlights, doing the world’s most unhelpful impression of a living, breathing human being, "i didn’t mean to, i didn’t, oh, that's a lotta blood —"

he waves you off nonchalantly, and you immediately thought, what kind of person is so chill about being impaled in the face?

"don’t worry about it,” he said, voice smooth as butter, if a bit nasally, considering the massive nosebleed that makes you feel a bit faint. the kind of nonchalant tone that should not be coming from someone who had blood pouring from his nose like an open tap, "not your fault, really."

"i...i don’t know what to do," you mutter, your hands still flailing around awkwardly. you didn’t have a napkin, or a first aid kit, or any idea what you were doing. hell, you weren’t even sure if the guy was okay without medical attention.

"nah, seriously, chill," the man says with a chuckle, wiping his nose with the back of his hand like it was no big deal, "relax, i’m fine. it’s just blood. it happens."

just blood. just blood. you stare at him for a beat, trying to wrap your brain around the fact that he was genuinely not bothered. if you had a nosebleed like this, you’d be on the ground, crying for your mother and your entire bloodline, but here this guy was, an absolute unit of a man, all broad shoulders and muscular thighs — bleeding out in front of you, and acting like it was the most mundane thing in the world.

"are you sure?" you ask, your voice pitched too high from nerves. "i mean, i feel like — i don’t know, i feel like i should at least be doing something to... help? like, i can — oh! i can find you something!"

you start rifling through your bag in a panicked frenzy. who carries band-aids to a concert? not you. who carries tissues to a concert? definitely not you. all you could offer was a packet of gum, a half-melted candy bar, and some lip balm. great. you were the epitome of preparedness.

you frown, "fuck, i'm really so sorry, i was just kinda, -" and you wave your arms around in the air as a half-hearted impression, as he tentatively takes a step back. probably worried you're gonna bazooka his chin next, and leave him with a busted lip.

"hah, i get it," he says with a shrug, as if his nose was nothing more than a minor inconvenience, "practically an expected hazard of being in the mosh pit."

you looked at him, genuinely unsure whether he was joking or just that calm about it, "you’re really okay? i'd really rip part of my sleeve, i don't know, if that would help," but you tug the sheer fabric, "but this is kind of tough elastane. oh my god, what am i even saying?"

"eh, i’ve had worse." the stranger gives you a grin that only made the situation feel more surreal. he was smiling, smiling — despite the fact that he was actively leaking blood like he’d been in a fight with a giant squid.

damn, you kinda like your men when they look a bit unhinged.

“look, just —" he cuts you off, “i'm flattered someone this cute is flustered over me. kinda nice, hah."

your face goes scarlet. "i am not cute, i should be terrifying," you gasp, mortified. “i just broke your nose in a mosh pit, and i —"

and that’s when it clicked. your brain finally registered the fact that this guy wasn’t some random concert-goer. no, this was geto—the suguru geto, the lead guitarist of the band that was headlining the festival tonight. you’d been a fan for years, practically worshipping the man’s guitar solos and smooth stage presence. and now...now you had broken his nose.

god help you when stan twitter got their hands on you.

you stare at him, wide-eyed, and he must’ve noticed the shift in your expression because he raised a pierced brow, "oh, i see it now. you, uh, a fan?"

"uhm," you squeak, still too mortified to speak normally, and trying to lower your voice to sound chill and unbothered. but it's just not working. "of course i recognise you! you’re — geto!"

suguru geto bashfully grins, as if pleased with your sudden realisation, though the blood dripping from his nose didn’t exactly lend him the aura of mystery he was used to, "i gotta say, you’re the first person to recognise me looking like this." he pauses, glancing at his nose with a casual flick.

you let out an awkward, nervous laugh. hoping that the divine powers have some pity for you, and you actually don't mess this up further, "i’m so sorry again. i really didn’t mean to —"

"seriously,” geto said, cutting you off again, "you don’t need to keep apologising. i get it, you're real sweet." then, after a pause, he tilted his head, his purple eyes glinting. "but, hey, next time i’m on stage? i’ll make sure to look for you in the crowd. you won’t be able to miss me. i’ll be the guy with the broken nose."

and just like that, it hit you. he wasn’t just being cool about the situation. he was flirting with you. the man was literally bleeding from his face, and he was flirting with you.

you open your mouth to say something, anything — but before you could form the words, geto flashes a wink, that same mischievous grin never leaving his face, "just gonna have to go and get this looked at. manager's gonna lose his shit, but see you around, yeah?"

NANAMI KENTO ✶ is it too late to turn this plane around ?

the plane shuddered just slightly as it levelled out, and you gripped the armrest as if your life depended on it, trying to pretend that you weren't ready to hurl the contents of your empty stomach over economy class.

it didn’t help that your armrest companion, sharply dressed, annoyingly calm, and with a face that could have been carved from marble — seemed utterly unbothered by the subtle turbulence. he didn’t even glance up from his boring ass magazine.

you had been stealing glances at him since he sat down. the suit caught your attention first, impeccably tailored, so he was probably some finance guy. his tie, a speckled shade of banana yellow that somehow still looked elegant, was loosened just enough to suggest this wasn’t his first flight today, though not so much as to appear disheveled.

well, just your luck that you were seated next to someone who looked like they could be a stone-faced nordstrom model.

his face, though. well, damn! it was the face that made him hard to look away from. angular features, strong jawline, and a slight furrow in his brow that gave him a perpetually exasperated look. the kind of face that probably made people think twice before asking him for directions.

you, however, were not most people.

"so," you began, forcing your voice to sound light and casual, even though your heartbeat felt like it was trying to escape your chest. "do you think we’re supposed to hear that sound?"

he finally looked at you, glancing up from his magazine with the slow precision of someone who was already regretting their decision to acknowledge you.

"which sound?" he asks, his voice calm but carrying a hint of weariness. his blonde hair was neatly slicked back, though a single strand had rebelliously fallen onto his forehead.

"uhm, you know. that sound," you said, gesturing vaguely toward the overhead compartments as if that explained anything.

his gaze followed your hand, and his brow furrowed further, not in alarm but in what looked like mild irritation. “the plane engine or the luggage settling. perfectly normal." his tone is clipped, curt.

"are you sure? i watched a tiktok that said that there was a one in a thirteen million chance of being a plane crash. that's like...too much for me," you press, trying to ignore the mild rattle of the window.

he sighs softly, the kind of sigh that said he was already dreading the rest of the flight. "yes. i’m sure. i would not trust...short videos made by attention desparate people on the internet."

“okay, but what if it’s not normal? like, what if it’s—”

"it’s not the plane falling apart," he interrupted, his tone polite but firm. "i promise you."

you blink at him, momentarily silenced by the sheer certainty in his voice. "well, that’s reassuring, i think," you say finally, "thanks, uh…" you glanced at the seat tag clipped to his bag. "nanami kento. i mean, just nanami, right? don't wanna full name you..."

he inclines his head slightly, acknowledging the unspoken introduction, then returned to his magazine. it didn’t escape your notice that he turns the page with the kind of precision you’d expect from a surgeon.

you sit back in your seat, trying to focus on anything other than the fact that you were currently hurtling through the air in a metal tube. but the silence didn’t last long.

"so, what are you reading?" you asks, craning your neck slightly to get a better look at the magazine in his hands.

nanami hesitates, like he was debating whether to humour you or not. finally, he said, "an article on japan’s economic trends."

you blink. "oh. thrilling."

the corner of his stern mouth twitches, just barely, as if he was fighting back an amused smile, "i find it...informative."

"sure, but informative and thrilling are two very different things," you point out.

nanami turns another page, still exuding that same infuriating calm, "you seemed like you needed a distraction," he says, almost reluctantly. "would you prefer i explain it to you?"

you tilt your head, surprised by the offer. "you’d...explain the economy to me? as a distraction?"

"you were the one asking about plane sounds, and you look as though you're going to pass out. i'm not keen on doing first aid if it can be avoided," nanami says, with a tone so dry that it grates over you.

"fair point," you admit, "okay, hit me. tell me something i don’t know about japan’s economy."

he adjusts his glasses, his expression unreadable as he snaps his magazine straight in front of him, reading off the page, "the yen has been under significant pressure lately, largely due to increased government spending and concerns over inflation. it’s a precarious balance, on one hand, stimulus is necessary to sustain growth —"

nanami gives you a stern glare as you stifle back a yawn but continues, "but on the other, it weakens the currency against global competitors. the nikkei index reflects this uncertainty, fluctuating in response to external factors like american monetary policy and global market trends.”

you stared at him, trying to process the flood of information. frankly, you've never given a fuck about economics, and you had been more busy staring at his smooth lips, "so.. don’t buy yen?"

nanami's mouth twitches again, and this time you were certain it was kinder. "that’s one takeaway."

"wow," you said, leaning back in your seat, "you really know how to distract someone."

"was it helpful?" nanami asks, his tone suggesting he wasn’t entirely sure himself.

you considered that for a moment, "actually, yeah. i mean, i don’t understand half of what you just said, but it was so boring i forgot about the plane noises. uh, i hate planes. in case, you couldn't tell."

his eyes soften ever so slightly behind his glasses, "i could tell. glad to be of service."

you found yourself smiling despite your nerves. there was something unexpectedly charming about his awkward attempt to engage you, even if it involved the driest topic imaginable.

"you know," you say, "you don’t seem like the kind of guy who enjoys small talk."

"not in the slightest," nanami admits.

"so why are you humouring me?"

he glances at you, "didn't want you to throw up over my jacket."

the plane lurches, and you look at him with panicked eyes, "i wouldn't be so relaxed yet! oh, fuck, pass me that plastic bag, wouldya?"

RYOMEN SUKUNA ✶ retail's worst nightmare !

working retail was a game of holy patience, and holy fuck, you were losing.

it wasn't just the holiday rush or the fluorescent lights buzzing ominously as spotify worked through the most overplayed songs of the year.

it was him.

the man who was always camped out in your section of the store, for at least thirty minutes. for each of your shifts, rifling through stacks of neatly folded shirts like a bored bear rooting through a cooler. you watched, jaw grinding, as he unfurled yet another oversized graphic tee. flattening it against his broad frame, against the washed denim of his thick jeans. holding it up like he was considering buying it.

only to toss it back onto the table in a rumpled heap.

occasionally, he'd slide down his red headphones and you'd watch him flex wide arms, tattoos crawling out of the neckline of his shirt as he huffed.

you hated this innocuous customer. hated how ridiculously good-looking he was, in a way that screamed danger. what, with the mess of blush-pink hair and deep, russet eyes. hated how little he seemed to care about the destruction he was wreaking on your display, and most of all, you hated how he smiled whenever you sighed audibly.

making eye contact with you as he tossed yet another tee into the ruined pile.

"are you gonna keep unfolding those shirts?" you snap finally, "or are you actually planning to buy something?"

the man turns, slow and deliberate, and his gaze slides down to your name tag before sharp teeth unfurl from the corners of a rosy mouth, "relax," he drawls, "i'm just browsing."

browsing. right. you stare at the disaster zone that he's created, the meticulously folded rows of band-tees now reduced to a chaotic mound of cotton.

"this isn't a library," you shoot back, hands on your hips, "either decide or move on."

he arches a brow, clearly enjoying himself, "why so tense? isn't this your job?"

you let out a cool breath through your nose, clenching your teeth to fine dust, "yeah. my job isn't babysitting grown men who can't pick a shirt size."

the stranger blinks, pink lashes fluttering over sharp, dark eyes. as though he's genuinely considering this. then, with an absolutely maddening level of confidence, he grabs another shirt.

a hideous neon green monstrosity, with some kind of skull prints, and he shakes it out right in front of you. letting the creases fall out, dangling it like a flag of triumph.

"this one's nice, heh," he says.

"if you ruin one more folded pile, i'm gonna stuff that shirt down your big-ass neck."

his laugh is sudden and loud, echoing through the department. a couple of shoppers turn to look, but he seems to not care in the slightest, "ya can't say that to me. but you got guts, i'll give you that."

"and you’ve got about five seconds to put that shirt down before i make you refold this entire table," you shoot back.

he doesn't move. instead, he holds your gaze, clearly testing your patience. his wolf's smile was now edged with something sharper, something that dared you to follow through on your threat.

"you’re serious, aren'tcha?" he asks, almost impressed.

"deadly," you replied.

for a moment, you thought he might actually comply. but then, with the same deliberate slowness, he dropped the neon green shirt onto the pile he’d already decimated.

you stared at it. then at him. you think you're trying to pour gasoline on him, and blow him up in your mind.

"what's your name?" you ask flatly.

"sukuna."

"i hope a thousand evil little bugs descend on your house tonight, sukuna. i hope they invade your dreams so you know i'm wishing a curse upon you."

"that's kinda hot," he replies, without missing a beat and turning to leave.

"you can’t just walk away!" you called after him, but he was already halfway to the escalator, hands shoved in his pockets like he didn’t have a care in the world, and already pulling his crimson headphones back up.

you groaned, grabbing the nearest shirt to start refolding the mess he’d left behind.

then, out of the corner of your eye, you saw sukuna pause at the top of the escalator. he turned, just enough to make eye contact, and called out:

"when's your lunch break? let's go out!"

GOJO SATORU ✶ you charge my particles :D

the emergency department smelled like antiseptic and awful syringes. you were perched on the edge of a very uncomfortable chair, hands clenched in your shaking lap. staring at the guy you had, accidentally, thank you very much, run over in a parking lot.

his leg was propped up, wrapped up in plenty of gauze and a ice-pack, and he also looked oddly serene for someone with a pretty nasty, bruised up limb.

when you had first gotten there, you had been sick with guilt and worry that this poor stranger had been knocked unconscious by the rear of your car. but to your absolute bewilderment, he was actually just...sleeping? dozing off, sprawled back with a soft and peaceful smile on his face like he was just happy to catch a good snooze. the most absurd shade of ice-white hair mussed around his head.

that was, until his eyes fluttered open.

"oh my god, you're awake!" you blurted, leaning forward, with regret pouring out of you, "are you okay? does your leg hurt? what am i saying, of course it does! i am so sorry —"

he turns his head to you, blinking slowly. his eyes were a ridiculous, striking shade of blue. like glacier water caught in the sun. and then he grinned, voice still a little rough from his nap.

"hey, cutie."

you stare, utterly thrown, "excuse me?"

"what's up, gorgeous? don't worry, i forgive you for attempted vehicular manslaughter."

"good god," you muttered, "i hit his head too."

the stranger stretches his arms above his head, and you try not to track your stare to ridiculously, circus-long legs that sprawl over the crumpled sheets of the wheeled bed. way too tall, lean and far too good-looking for someone who had just been brought via ambulance to the hospital.

"it's fine, i swear," the man says, waving a scraped hand dismissively, "i needed a day off, so you did me a favour."

"a favour," you repeat, utterly incredulous, "you're in the emergency department. i backed up my car into you!"

the stranger shrugs, wincing at the stretch. and utterly unbothered by your fluttering worries, "yeah. but think 'bout it. if you hadn't hit me, i'd be stuck in a lecture hall. i don't wanna explain newtonian mechanics to a bunch of half-asleep undergrads."

you stare at him, suspiciously, "you're a professor?"

"mhm, physics."

"you don't look old enough to be a professor," and you're squinting at white lashes that ring impossibly large eyes. he looks more like a famous actor that you can't quite place, or someone's beautiful sugar baby.

no, focus.

he smirks, pale and glossy lips quirking upwards, "saying i look too good to be stuck in academia?"

"what? no," you say quickly, worried that he's gonna think you're a freak who hits on their victims, "that's not what i meant."

"you can say it," the man interrupted, still grinning, "i get it a lot. oh, satoru, you're too handsome to be explaining thermodynamics. satoru, you should be on the big screen, not teaching string theory. it's a bit of a curse."

you rub your temples, trying to block out the nonsense coming out of his fast-moving mouth, "you're kinda...weird. satoru."

"you hit me with a car," he points out cheerfully.

before you can retort, or ask him if he has private health insurance, a nurse clicks over, a clipboard in her hand as she's tapping her pen impatiently.

"mr gojo? we're ready to take you back for another x-ray? we just want to make sure that we also get a good picture at some soft tissues, so an mri as well."

your poor wallet.

"great," satoru says, and then to your utter horror, he adds, "i'll just leave my stuff with my partner, right?"

the nurse raises an eyebrow, glancing between the two of you. you feel your tongue go dry, "i'm not —" but satoru cuts you off, with a voice like silk.

"so shy, right?" and he's flashing the nurse a charming smile that makes your nose crinkle, "but i'm just so glad that they're here through this difficult situation."

the nurse looks mildly skeptical, and you can feel your face heat up as she sighs, and stares at you.

"i...yeah. gotta be there for my sugar pumpkin snookums, right?"

it's satisfying that the tips of satoru's ears turn an awful shade of pink as he glares at you now, "such a sweetheart," and he pats your hand.

the nurse seems more inclined to roll her eyes, clearly over what she assumes are the antics of a medicine-doped boyfriend, "right. let's get that leg checked out."

as she wheels him away, satoru winks at you over his shoulder, "don't go anywhere, pretty!"

what a fiend. grinning like he's having the time of his life.

[milla-frenchy]

Dance with me, darlin'

3k6 | Joel Miller x fem reader | ao3 | masterlist Summary: You go to a club and want to fuck. So does Joel Warnings: 18+ mdni. age gap (reader is in her 20s, Joel in his early 40s), Joel is a menace, Tommy’s in the club too, no mention of Sarah. Pet names (darlin’, sweetheart, baby), pussy and dick pronouns, masturbation (f), oral (m/f), dirty talk, praise kink, size kink, soft dom!Joel, piv, creampie. Pic for mood only. Reader has no specific physical descriptions

a/n:  this is written for @sp00kymulderr 's dick pronoun fic challenge | masterlist thank you for the challenge, Gideon 🙏❤️ (I'm so late I'm sorry 😳) Thank you @aurorawritestoescape for beta-ing 😘💕 @/saradika-graphics for the dividers 🙏

Saturday night, finally. You had a tough week at work, and you were looking forward to this night, wishing to forget your worries. You had planned to go to a club with your two friends, Maddie and Anna, drink a few shots and let loose on the dance floor.

The place was already packed when the three of you arrived, and you headed to the bar and ordered a shot of tequila that you downed immediately.

“Just what I needed,” you told your friends, sighing in relief, as you felt some of your troubles disappear- at least temporarily, when the strong alcohol flowed down your throat.

You set the glass down, before turning toward the dance floor and placing your elbows on the counter. “Come on, let’s dance,” Anna said, motioning for Maddie and you to follow her. 

You danced and sang, your awful week finally behind you, and then headed back to the bar.

“Good evening, ladies.” All three of you turned around when you heard a masculine voice.

“Good evening yourself,” Maddie replied, smiling at the man. He was handsome, seemed to be in his late 30s, with dark hair and brown eyes, a moustache and a short beard. He was tall, his broad shoulders stretching his white t-shirt, its already short sleeves were rolled up around his biceps. His hair was tied back with a rubber band.

“I’m Tommy. Can I offer you drinks?”

The three of you looked at each other and agreed.

“Wanna join me and my brother? Over there,” he added, nodding toward a booth. Shamelessly manspreading,  the man sitting there gave you and your friends a vague nod with his chin. He was wearing sunglasses, which you found strange in this place, but his attitude was hot and you didn’t want to turn down a drink. Neither did your friends.

“Hi, Tommy’s brother,” you said loudly over the music as you sat down.

“Hey darlin’, I’m Joel. What did you order?”

“Tequila,” you replied, trying not to react to the pet name he already gave you, despite the giggles of your friends.

“Nice,” he said, scratching his beard with his thumb, as the corner of his lip lifted slightly. This man was exactly what you needed tonight: a hot menace.

Tommy came back with the shots, all emptied as quickly as the first ones you’d had after your arrival. He started to chat with your friends and you looked at Joel more closely. He was wearing a gray t-shirt, so tight that his biceps seemed to be begging for release.

He probably noticed you were checking him out and not paying attention to the conversation at all, considering the smirk he gave you.

“Dance with me, darlin’,” he said, standing up right away, as if he already knew you wouldn't say no. He held out his hand to you, while pushing his glasses up on his head. You stood up and met a pair of beautiful brown eyes. His flirty smirk didn’t go unnoticed either- he was full of confidence, and you liked it. 

He took your hand in his and you tried to stay focused on the music, the noises around, even though you felt like you were in a velvet box that muffled everything around you, since the moment his fingers touched you.

You started to dance and he was good at it, hips moving sensually. He rested his hands on your hips once or twice, and checked if you were ok with the way he was touching you. Feeling confident, you wrapped your arms around his shoulders while you were dancing, and resisted the urge to press your body closer to his.

When a second song started, you started to spin around to the rhythm of the music, swaying your hips lascively, and stopped when two hands settled on your hips.

“Already showing me your ass, baby? Lookin’ for trouble?” he said in a low voice, his mouth so close to your ear that his beard brushed your skin. His lips slid towards your pulse point and he kissed it, making you shiver.

You turned your face to look at him and held your breath. His stare, like yours probably, exuded sex. “Maybe I am, yeah. The good kind,” you replied finally, trying to keep a confident voice. 

“Always the good kind with me, sweetheart,” he replied, leaning against you slightly, but enough for you to feel the bulge in his jeans. Another shiver ran through your body filled with arousal.

You turned around, and Joel kept his hands on your hips, pulling you gently towards him, determinedly, and you faced him. Two motionless bodies in the middle of the dance floor, while everybody was dancing around you. It was like time stopped for a moment. 

He took your chin between his fingers, slowly tilting it left and then right. As if he was scrutinizing you.

“What? You’re gonna ask my age?”

“No. You’re over 21, that’s enough for me,” he said, and you started to dance again.

“Looks like you’re a damn menace, Joel…” you smirked.

He chuckled but didn’t answer.

A couple songs later, you excused yourself to go freshen up in the bathroom. You looked at yourself in the mirror, trying to slow down your heartbeat, to take your time before going back. Trying to stop yourself from asking him to join you in the bathroom so you could fuck him there.

When you came back, Joel was no longer dancing, or at the booth. You stopped dead in your tracks, disappointed. You obviously had been mistaken, thinking he was interested in you. You told your friends that you would call an Uber and go home.

When you walked out of the club, Joel was facing the exit, leaning against a truck.

“I was waiting for you,” he said, ogling your body from head to toe, with your dress not covering much, his lips curved in a confident smile.

“And you just left? I could have met another man and completely forgotten about you," you said, half teasing half provoking him, as you were walking towards him.

“No, you wouldn’t,” he replied, the confidence in his voice making your knees weaken. He pulled you towards him, his scent invading your nostrils again. You were drawn to him like a moth to a flame.

“Could almost hear that little pussy clench on nothin’, while we were dancin’,” he murmured against your ear while his hands grabbed your ass, pressing you against his bulge. You bit your lip, trying not to moan.

“Am I right? Coulda fucked you in the bathroom, but I wanna take my time with you.”

“So you want to fuck me in your car?”

“No. Not with my dick, at least,” he smirked.

“Shit,” you breathed. No one had ever spoken to you like that before, and heat rushed over your whole body. 

“Wanna come to my place, darlin’?”

“For ‘good kind of trouble’, like you offered? Yes… yeah.”

“‘Course you do,” he added, cockily. 

He grabbed your arms and spun you around, caging you with his broad body, your back against the truck door, his wide thigh between yours. Pressing against your throbbing pussy.

“Is she purin’, baby? This little cunt? She wants to be mine all night, doesn't she?”

“Fuck… yeah.” 

He brushed his nose against your cheeks and ear, then kissed your neck, his hands sliding from your ass to your waist.

You wanted to kiss him, but he seemed to enjoy playing with you. Tease you.

“That’s my girl. Get in the truck, sweetheart,” he said, moving away just enough to open the door.

“Oh, you’re a gentleman?”

He tilted his head to the side and gave you a look that seemed to mean “for now”, then he closed the door. 

“Fuck,” you mumbled. He was so hot and confident that you felt yourself drooling like never before.

“So you’re a contractor?” you said as he sat down, trying to cool off the atmosphere a bit.  “Miller bros,” written on your truck? It explains the arms.”

“You checked out my arms, darlin’?”

“Yeah, like you checked out my ass,” you teased. So much for the cool off.

“I sure did,” he chuckled. “Yeah, Tommy and I are contractors.”

He put his hand on your bare thigh while he was driving. As if you were his. His possessiveness made your core throb and you squeezed your thighs together, trying in vain to ease the tension you were feeling.

“Oh, baby… need it bad, uh? Don't worry, my place ain’t far. Now, be a good girl, and put your hand between your legs.”

You looked at him, surprised and even more aroused.

“You need some release, don’t you?”

You nodded and did as he said, you were here for it after all, and his soft dominant tone was exactly what you craved. You slid your hand between your thighs, down to your soaked panties.

“Two fingers. You can take them easily, I know you're droolin’.”

You bit your lip when you heard him, and slid your hand under the fabric.

That’s a good girl,” he praised. “Now lemme hear her.”

He watched you each time he could- at every red light, every stop, when it was safe.  

You were turned on by the fact that he was there, next to you, this man you had just met. Imagining how he would fuck you, aware that you were already under his control in some way. Under his spell, or whatever you called it. You brushed your folds then pushed two fingers in to let him hear how wet you were.

“Christ, that’s it, darlin’. Ruin my seat.”

You whined, keeping two fingers buried in your cunt, and brought your other hand in your panties to play with your clit and release the tension that was clenching your stomach.

“Oh shit, that’s it baby, two hands,” he said again. “Keep goin’, come in my damn car.”

“Yeah, I’m… I’m gonna come, fuck,” you whimpered, when your climax rushed over you, back arched, pussy clenching on your fingers, clit pulsing under your digit. You felt your wetness flow down to his seat.

“Shit,” he said, grabbing his bulge in his big hand, trying to ease his own tension now, before putting his hand on your thigh again. He didn’t release you until he pulled into his driveway. Then he got out of his truck and walked around to open the door, took your hand in his and led you to his house.

He slammed the door behind you and you finally kissed, your lips crashing against each other. There was no restraint, no reserve, just hunger for more. You moaned in his mouth, while growls were roaring from his throat. Bodies pressed in an impatient and greedy embrace, four hands roaming two bodies.

You pulled back to catch your breath, his hands not letting go of your waist, his eyes fixed on yours, full of desire. His lips found yours again, as he led you backwards to the table against which he leaned you. One hand still on your waist, the other on the back of your neck, he kissed you, holding you tight against him, his tongue brushing yours. 

Unable to hold back any longer, you slid your hand down to his crotch, just to touch him there, to feel its weight. Your breath stopped for a second and he wrapped his hand around yours, pressing it harder against his manhood, licking your tongue and lips.

“Take off your clothes, and show me that pussy, darlin’. Been teasin’ me for too damn long.”

He stepped aside, leaving you in charge of giving him a show that you gladly offered. You removed your dress, revealing your lingerie. The way he was looking at you took away any shyness or nervousness. You paused for a moment and he didn't hurry you, clearly enjoying it. You lost patience first and unhooked your bra then let it fall. You didn’t give yourself time to think about it and pushed your panties to the side, running your finger along your wet folds. Eyes still fixed on him, you brought your digit to your mouth and sucked it slowly.

“You're a naughty little thing,” he said in a husky voice, and you tried not to moan at this word, and kept teasing him. “You like it?” you asked playfully, feeling your wetness flowing down your folds.

He smirked, before adding “lie down on the table, sweetheart.”

You obliged happily as he walked towards you, and grabbed the hem of your panties, sliding them down your trembling legs then off the ankles. He spread your thighs as he stood between them, and brushed your folds with his thumbs, touching you there for the first time, eyes fixed on your glistening pussy.

“A naughty thing, with a really pretty cunt… looks like you’re gonna ruin more than my truck seat.”

“Fuck,” you murmured, and he leant down, hands clamped on your thighs, once again he didn’t wait and lapped at your cunt with one long stripe. His eyes fixed on you.

“Fuck me… you taste so good,” he growled before going back to eating you out, making you moan against the back of your hand. The emotion and the pleasure felt were so strong that your thighs tried to close instinctively. Growling, he spread them with his warm and firm hands, holding you open on the table.

“Joel,” you whined, feeling another climax already rising. His tongue left your folds, quickly replaced by two thick fingers, an she began fucking you with them as his lips surrounded your swollen and sensitive clit. The tip of his tongue played with it, teased it, before sucking on it, making you groan until you came on his tongue and squeezed his face between your thighs, whining his name.

He straightened up when you stopped shaking, pressed his crotch against your cunt, and wiped his glistening beard and moustache with the back of his hand.

You sat on the edge of the table, thighs spread around Joel’s thighs. His large, strong body took its place almost with authority as if it needed it, but every pore of your skin was more than ready to welcome him. 

Eager to return the favor, you unzipped his jeans and knelt down. 

“Needy girl,” he said, as if he wasn’t greedy too, his voice almost a growl of impatience.

You grabbed his jeans and boxers, struggling to free his cock that you felt hammering against the rough fabric of his clothes. You pulled them just below his balls and his cock sprang free, hard, and slapped against his lower belly.

He took your chin between his fingers, eyes full of confidence and how could he not be, given your inability to tear your eyes away from his fat tip, his thick shaft, and his heavy balls?

“I really love the way you look at my cock, but I’d like to see these lips around it, darlin’, if you want too. Before I fuck her.”

Your pussy was drooling again, calling for you to let him fuck her already, but you were craving of having your mouth and throat full of his cock.

“Needy boy,” you said, teasing him, and making him smile. “Yeah, I’m gonna suck him.”

“Him?” he asked, surprised.

“You called my pussy “her”, right?”

“Right”, he chuckled. “So, you’re gonna blow this big boy, baby?”

“You’re still talking about your dick? Or about you?” you asked mischievously, licking his shaft just to hear him growl.

“Darlin’, shit... Both I guess,” he replied, caressing your cheek with his thick thumb.

You grabbed his jeans and boxers, still mid-thigh, and with a sharp tug you pulled them down. Your thumb spread the precum over his tip then tasted it on your tongue, sucking your digit, head raised towards him. He growled, hand tightening on your cheek.

You placed your lips around his tip and started to suck it. His taste, his size, all of him made you moan, and he throbbed even bigger.

“Damn, baby…”, he said in a low voice, before you began jerking him off, your tongue sliding down his shaft towards his balls that you licked too and took in your mouth to feel their weight on your tongue. You sucked them and licked the thin skin behind them. Just to make him shiver, grunt. Just to make him think that you were a menace too.

“Shit, shit… darlin’...”

You took him back in your mouth, deeper and deeper, until his tip brushed the back of your throat. His grunts turned into the most greedy moans you had ever heard.

“Alright, alright, shit, baby… You’re way too good at this, c’mere,” he added, grabbing your elbow to help you up.

Then he spun you around, making you face the table. One hand on your shoulder, he growled “bend down for me, sweetheart.”

His voice was needy, much less in control than earlier in the evening, and you liked feeling him lose his chill.

“You're gonna let me fuck this little cunt, darlin’? Yeah? You’re gonna let me ruin you?”

“Or maybe I’ll ruin you, who knows?” you answered, head towards him. Hoping that he would only hear confidence in your voice, and not the need to welcome him inside you, mixed with the apprehension of wondering if you could welcome him.

“You’re a little menace, you know that?” he chuckled, nestling his cock between your thighs, and you leaned down, placing your cheek and hands on the table.

“Spread wide for me, baby,” he said in a low voice, “and let me in.”

He pushed in and then stopped, just the tip in, grabbed the back of your knee and propped it over the table to open your core. It was the hottest thing you had ever experienced, and your juices flooded his tip.

“We gotta get her used to him, right?” he said, his hand tightening on your shoulder. You could barely hear his words, waiting for him to sink in, to feel him completely.

“Fuck me, Joel. Please, fuck me,” you whined.

Slowly, he thrust in, leaving you breathless for a moment. 

“Oh my god…” you whimpered finally, as his tip, his shaft, were spreading your folds in a mix of delight and light pain.

“Shit, you got such a tight cunt. Tryin’ to swallow me whole.”

He didn't stop, pushing in until he bottomed out and you whimpered. His hand still on your shoulder, he pulled back leaving only his tip in your cunt, before pushing in again. He did this two or three times, to let you get used to him. 

“You’re ready, baby? Because he… wants to fuck, now,” he said, voice low, needy. 

“Yes, Joel,” you replied, and he began pounding into you, his hands clinging to your hips. Fucking you faster, harder, now that your folds had given way under his thickness, helped by your wetness that didn’t stop flowing from his shaft to his balls.

“Damn you’re so fuckin’ tight…”

“Told you…” you panted, “that I’d ruin you.”

He tried to chuckle, but it got cut in his throat. So he tried to calm his breathing, slowing down the pace, fucking you slower but deeper. 

“You’re doing so good, darlin’,” he said between two hip thrusts. “Takin’ me so well.”

You moaned, hands gripping the edge of the table, trying to keep yourself in position, your moans filling the room.

“You’re gonna come again, darlin’?” he growled, one of his hands running down your back from your shoulder to your waist, making you shiver. “Wanna come on my dick?”

“Yes,” you whined. You wanted to soak him, to make him lose his mind just like you knew you would lose yours.

He slid his hand up to your mouth for you to suck on his finger before sliding it over your clit. Stroking it perfectly, he pulled away slightly to watch his cock sink into you.

“Fuck, you’re perfect baby. Keep takin’ it, just like that.”

All you wanted was to keep taking it. Keep feeling him inside you. But soon your climax hit your core and you shook, clit pulsing.

“Oh shit,” he said, when your cunt clenched on him, and squeezed his shaft. 

Teeth gritted, he tried to hold on as much as possible, letting the heat of your pussy drive him crazy. You squeezed his hand in yours, saying “come inside Joel. Inside, please. I’m clean, and I’m on the pill.”

“Can’t do that sweetheart,” he panted.

“Please, Joel, wanna feel you… need you to fill me up,” you insisted, hand tight on his.

“Damn sweetheart,” he growled, still pounding you, as if he didn’t want it to end, just before he filled your cunt with his warmth, breaking the promise he had made to himself years ago for the first time. Unable to resist your hot, tight pussy, your moans, your pleas. He came inside, sending spurt after spurt of cum deep inside you, until he covered your back with his chest, and kissed your shoulder. 

“Darlin’,” he breathed finally, “you’re dangerous, you know that?” he almost laughed against your skin.

A few minutes later, you were watching him zip up his jeans, leaving them unbuttoned, while you were putting on your dress. 

“Can I have your phone, darlin’?”

You handed it to him, watched his thumb dance on it before handing it back to you.

“Now you have my number. I’d be glad if you called me.”

You looked at your phone and smiled, when you saw that he saved his number as Joel (menace).

“It reminds me that you didn’t ask my name once tonight,” you told him.

“Darlin’ suits you well,” he smiled. “But you’re right. What’s your name, darlin’?”

You asked for his phone, and added your contact before giving it back to him.

After your first name, there was “darlin’” in parentheses.

You smiled at each other, his cheek dimpled and your heart stopped for a moment.

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[wolverigrl]

Party (1)

Hugh Jackman x reader (actress)

A/N: Sooo this part was written right after clubbing, and I may got carried away, which why I divided it into two parts. The next part should be online on Monday or Tuesday! So stay tuned! :)

Warnings: smut (not completely detailed), unprotected p in v (wrap it up!), mentions of alcohol, some swearing, mentions of pregnancy

Not proofread!

Enjoy!

Previous Part

---------------------------------------------------

It's happening. I'm officially a year older today. Honestly, I don't even feel the change. Except for maybe the overwhelming sense of everything right now - the music, the laughter, the champagne that seems to be in my hand all the time - and him. Especially him. Hugh.

The night feels like a dream, but it's real - my birthday, my party. I rented this entire club for the occasion, and it's filled to the brim with friends, the people I care about, the ones who've been there through everything. Some are people I used to only see on screens, in magazines, but now they're real, they're here, and they're celebrating me. It's surreal.

The cast of The Greatest Showman showed up early, and I've barely had amoment to myself. Zac and Zendaya are dancing like they don't have a care in the world. Keala's by the bar, harmonizing with the DJ's set like only she can. Everywhere I turn, someone new is pulling me in for a hug, giving me a gift, toasting to me and wishing me all the best.

"Happy birthday, y/n!" Another friend comes up to me - one of the faces I vaguely recognize through the blur of champagne and flashing lights. They hand me a beautifully wrapped gift, and I accept it with a smile, although my mind is elsewhere. I'm grateful, of course, but the attention, the noise, the constant flow of people - it's overwhelming.

But my eyes always drift back to him. Hugh.

I catch a glimpse of him near the bar, his tall, broad frame leaning casually as he sips martini, talking to Ryan. The way the dim lights catch his features - sharp jawline, eyes that sparkle with a mischievous glint - it's like time slows down when I see him. My heart speeds up, a familiar heat spreading through me. It's not the alcohol. It's him.

I can't stop thinking about him, not tonight. There's something about the way he looks, how he moves in that perfectly tailored suit that drives me crazy. Maybe it's because I've had one too many glasses of champagne, or maybe it's just that he's Hugh and he's everything I want right now. I'm feeling it, that hormonal pull that still won't quit. It's like I'm on fire, and he's the only one who can put it out.

Our eyes meet across the room. A slow, easy smile spreads across his lips, and I feel a rush of heat flood through me. God, he's gorgeous. I feel myself gravitating toward him before I even realize what I'm doing weaving through the crowd.

"Enjoying your party, love?" His voice is low when I reach him, the deep itmbre sending shivers down my spine. He leans in, his breath warm against my ear, and I inhale the familiar scent of him - something earthy, masculine, mixed with the faintest hint of martini.

"I would be enjoying it a lot more if you weren't all the way over here." I murmur, my fingers finding the lapels of his jacket, tugging him closer.

Hugh laughs softly, his hand sliding around my waist with such ease it feels like second nature.

"Oh, I see. Is the birthday girl feeling a little. neglected?"

"Maybe." I tease, but the truth is, it's not just that. It's everything. I feel wound up, my body buzzing from the alcohol, the excitement, and from him. The way his hand rests so possessively on my waist. The way his eyes darken just a bit when I lean in closer and my chest brushing against his.

He's trying to play it cool, but I know him too well. He feels it too, this spark between us that's been burning hotter as the night goes on. And right now, I can't think of anything but us.

I press my body against his, my lips just grazing his ear as I whisper.

"You know, I've been thinking about you all night."

His grip tightens on my waist, his thumb brushing my hip in a way that makes me bite my lip.

"Oh is that so?" His voice is teasing, but there's an edge to it now, something darker and more primal.

"Mmhmm" I hum, letting my hands drift up his chest, feeling the firmness of his body beneath the thin fabric of his shirt. My fingers toy with his collar, brushing against his skin.

"I can't stop thinking about how good you look in this suit."

He chuckles, a low, rumbling sound hat vibrates through my body.

"You're playing with fire, baby."

"Oh I like the burn." I grin.

For a moment, we're just standing here, locked in this invisible dance of tension and desire, the noise of he party fading into the background. My fingers slip into his hair, tugging lightly, and I can feel the way his breath catches in response. He doesn't move, just looks at me with that slow smoldering gaze that makes my knees feel weak.

"Y/n.." he murmurs, his voice a little rough now, like he's barely holding himself back. "We're at your birthday party. You do realize that?"

I grin, pressing my hips against him as I lean up to whisper in his ear, "And what do you wanna do about that?"

His hand grips my waist tighter pulling me even closer, his mouth so close to mine I can feel his breath against my lips.

"You're trouble, you know that?"

"Only for you, baby."

Before I can say anything else, the music changes, and I feel the beat thrum through my body, pulling me onto the dance floor. Hugh follows, his hands on my hips as we move together.

Dancing with him feels like the most natural thing in the world. Every sway of my hips, every turn, it's like our bodies are in sync, perfectly attuned to each other. I can feel the heat of his hands on my skin, even through the fabric of my dress, and it makes me ache for more.

I turn in his arms, pressing my back against his chest and grinding against him as the music pulses around us. His hands tighten on my hips pulling me back harder against him, and I can feel his breath on my neck, hot and heavy.

"Y/n.." he whispers in my ear, voice strained but playful.

"You're making it very hard to be a gentleman right now."

A wicked smile curves my lips. I glance over my shoulder, giving him a sultry look. "Who said I want you to be a gentleman?"

His eyes darken, the playful glint replaced by something more primal. He presses a kiss to my neck, just below my ear, sending goosebumps down my arms. I turn in his arms, facing him fully, and pull him into another kiss, this one deeper, more intense, oblivious to the crowd dancing around us

He groans softly into the kiss, his hands sliding down my sides and his fingers gripping my hips like he's trying to keep some semblance of control. But I can feel him losing it, just as much as I am. The way his body presses into mine, the heat between us - it's almost unbearable.

The music blurs into the background, and all I can think about is the feel of him behind me. His body moving with mine, the way his hands seem to leave trails of fire on my skin. I look up, our lips just inches apart.

"We should stop.." he murmurs though his grip on me doesn't loosen. If anything, he pulls me closer.

I tilt my head up, brushing my lips against his in the barest of touches, teasing.

"Do you really want to?"

He doesn't answer with words. Instead, his mouth crashes against mine, and I lose myself in the taste of him. My hands are in his hair, tugging him closer, and I can feel the way his body tenses against mine, like he's holding back everything he wants to do.

I know we're still in the middle of the dance floor, but I don't care. Right now, it's just him and me, lost in the heat of the moment. I deepen the kiss, letting my tongue slide against hus, and he groans into my mouth, pulling me even closer, if that's even possible.

After what feels like an eternity, we finally pull away from the dance floor. My head is spinning, but not only from the champagne. I grab his hand, pulling him toward the photobooth in the corner of the club.

"Come on, let's do something fun!" I say with a playful grin, tugging him inside.

He laughs, following me into the cramped space. The curtain closes pehind us, and I waste no time climbing onto his lap, my legs straddling his.

"Smile for the camera!" I say, sticking my tongue out at him just as the first flash goes off.

We make silly faces for the next few shots - sticking our tongues out crossing our eyes - but I can feel the tension building between us again. My body is still humming from the dancing, the closeness, the way his hands feel on my thighs, even through the fabric of my dress.

I lean in for the next shot, kissing his cheek, but it doesn't stop there. The kiss lingers, my lips trailing down to his jaw, his neck, and I can feel the way his breath hitches beneath me.

"Love.." he breathes, his hands sliding up my thighs, gripping them tightly. "You're really trying to drive me crazy tonight, aren't you?"

smile against his skin, my lips brushing his ear as I whisper, "Maybe."

The camera flashes again, but we're not paying attention anymore. My mouth finds his, and the kiss quickly turns heated, desperate. His hands slide up my sides, pulling me closer until there's no space left between us. I can feel him hard against me, and it only makes me want him more.

I grind against him, and he groans softly, his hands gripping my hips so tightly I know I'II have bruises tomorrow. But I don't care. All I care about is the feel of him beneath me, the way his mouth moves against mine and the way his hands are everywhere at once.

We're lost in each other, so caught in the heat of the moment that I barely register the curtain ripping open. It takes a second for reality to hit, but when it does, it's not subtle.

"Hey! No funny business in there!" a voice teases, giggling as it echoes in the small booth.

I freeze, still straddling Hugh, our lips inches apart, our breathing heavy. I look up and find Chris standing there with his brother Scott, both grinning like they've just caught us in the act - because, well, they pretty much have.

"Really, guys?" I groan, burying my face in Hugh's neck in a mixture of embarrassment and frustration. Hugh chuckles, his chest vibrating beneath me, still catching his breath.

Chris gives me an exaggerated wink. "What? Thought we'd come join the party. The booth's big enough for four, right?"

"Get out of here, man!" Hugh says with a laugh, shaking his head, though he's still holding onto me like he has no intention of letting go. His hands remain firm on my waist and his body warm beneath mine. Scott leans against the doorway of the booth, grinning. "You know, we're happy for you two, but maybe save the PDA for after the birthday cake?"

I roll my eyes and slide off Hugh's lap, standing up and adjusting my dress, trying not to look too flustered.

"Fine, fine. The booth is yours!"

Hugh stands up behind me, smoothing down his suit and running a hand through his hair. He's got that mischievous glint in his eyes, though one that tells me this is far from over.

"Have fun!" he says, stepping out of the booth, his hand slipping into mine as we head back toward the party. I squeeze his fingers, unable to hide the grin on my face. But as we walk away, I feel the heat between us still simmering beneath the surface. It's like every brush of his hand against mine, every glance he gives me, is charged with electricity. I don't think either of us is done with what we started.

We slip into a quieter area of the club, tucked away from the noise of the party.

There's a small storage room just off the side of the main hallway, dimly lit, the perfect place to catch our breath and maybe finish what we started.

Inside the storage room, it's cramped and cluttered, a stark contrast to the opulent club just outside. The air smells faintly of cleaning products and dust. Shelves ine the walls, stacked with supplies - boxes, extra bottles of liquor, random equipment that looks untouched for months. There's a small, rickety table in the corner, just big enough for me to sit on, though it Iooks like it could collapse at any moment.

Hugh's hands are on me the second the door clicks shut. His lips find mine in a fierce, hungry kiss, and the world around us fades into a blur of heat and need. His fingers grip my tips, pulling me against him, and can feel the hardness of him through his pants, pressing insistently against me, The urgency between us is undeniable, like we've been holding back all night and can't wait another second.

He guides me backward, and stumble slightly as my back hits the edge of the small table, my breath catching. His mouth leaves a scorching trail along my neck, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin where my shoulder meets my collarbone. I shiver, my hands tangling in his hair, pulling him closer.

"I need you." I whisper, my voice breathy and desperate.

His response is a low growl vibrating against my skin. "God, y/n.. I need you too. I've needed you all night."

With one swift motion, he lifts me onto the table, my legs wrapping around his waist instinctively. The table creaks beneath me, unsteady from our combined weight, but neither of us cares. His hands slide up my thighs, pushing my dress higher, bunching it around my hips.

"You have no idea what you're doing to me." he murmurs against my ear, his voice thick with desire. His nands grip my waist, and his lips brush my neck again, leaving a trail of heat wherever he touches.

"I've been thinking about you.. imagining this.. every second of tonight."

A soft moan escapes my lips as his fingers tease the edge of my panties, and I arch my back, pressing against him. "Hugh please.."

Hugh's mouth crashes back onto mine swallowing my words. He fumbles with his belt, the leather slipping through the loops with a soft hiss, and the sound alone makes my pulse race. I can feel the tension in his body, the way his hands shake slightly with need, and it drives me wild.

He pulls my panties to the side, and I gasp as his fingers slide against me, teasingly testing.

"Fuck. You're so wet." he whispers, his voice hoarse. His fingers dip inside me briefly, making me gasp.

"And all for me?"

"Only for you baby.." I manage to say parely able to form the words through the haze of desire.

I need you, Hugh. Now."

With a groan, he frees himself from his pants, and I feel the hot, hard length of him pressing against my thigh. His fingers dig into my hips as he positions himself at my entrance, and I bite my lip, already rembling with anticipation.

"Tell me what you want." he murmurs, his lips brushing my ear. "Say it."

"I want you." I breathe, my voice shaking with need.

"I want you to fuck me."

He pushes inside me slowly, inch by inch, and my head falls back as a moan escapes my lips. The sensation of him filling me is overwhelming, a mix of pleasure and pain as he stretches me and takes me.

"Fucking hell, y/n." he groans, his forehead pressed against mine as he bottoms out inside me.

"You feel...so fucking good."

The table creaks beneath us, swaying slightly from our movements, but I barely notice. My legs tighten around his waist, pulling him deeper, and he begins to move slow at first, then harder, faster, until the rhythm of his thrusts matches the beat of the music still thudding through the walls. With every movement, I feel the tension building inside me, winding tighter and tighter until l'm on the verge of breaking. Hugh's hands roam my body, gripping my thighs my hips, sliding up to cup my breasts through my dress. His lips find mine again, his tongue tangling with mine as he thrusts into me with a desperation that mirrors my own.

"You make me feel so good.." I whimper, my nails digging into his shoulders.

"Don't stop... please, don't stop.."

His hand slides down to grip my ass pulling me harder against him as he thrusts deeper, his breath coming in ragged gasps.

"I love you, y/n." he groans, his voice rough with need. "I fucking love you."

"I love you, Hugh." I whisper, my body trembling as I hold onto him for dear life.

"I love you so much."

We're completely lost in each other now, the world around us disappearing as we move together and the table creaking loudly beneath us.

At one point, I hear something fall - a bottle or maybe a box knocked off one of the shelves - but neither of us cares. We're too far gone, too wrapped up in the heat of the moment to think about anything else.

His thrusts become more erratic, harder, faster, and I feel the tension inside me snap.

My climax crashes through me, sending waves of pleasure rippling through every nerve in my body. I cry out, my nails raking down his back as I hold on, riding the wave of ecstasy.

Hugh groans loudly as he follows me over the edge, his body tensing as he thrusts one last time, his release hot and deep inside me. We're both shaking, breathless, our bodies pressed so tightly together it's like we're one.

For at few moments, we - just stay like that, holding each other with our foreheads pressed together as we try to catch our breath. The room is silent now, save for the sound of our breathing, the faint thump of music still vibrating through the walls.

After a long moment, Hugh pulls back slightly, his eyes dark and intense as he looks at me. He leans down, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to my lips.

"You're amazing." he whispers, his voice thick with emotion.

I smile, my heart still racing. "So are you."

He kisses me again, but this time slower and sweeter, like he's savoring the moment. Then, with a soft laugh he pulls back and reaches into his pocket, pulling out a handkerchief.

"Here, love." he says with a grin, his back pocket and pulling out a handkerchief. It's such a gentlemanly gesture, one that makes me laugh softly. He helps me clean up, his touch careful and respectful, and I can't help but feel a rush of affection for him in that moment.

"Always prepared, huh?" I tease, running a hand through his tousled hair, which is still slightly damp with sweat from our heated encounter.

"I like to think so." he replies with a wink, adjusting his pants and redoing his belt.

He then wrapped his arms around me and pulled me closer while kissing softly my forehead.

"You okay?" he murmurs, his voice soft.

smile, my heart still pounding 'More than okay.

He chuckles, pressing a kiss to my forehead before slowly puling away and helping me straighten out my dress. We both fumble with our clothes trying to make ourselves look at least somewhat presentable, but I can't stop myself from smoothing his shirt, adjusting his tie, and brushing a hand through his hair.

"You're fussing." He says with a lazy smile while his hands find my waist again. "They're going to know we've been up to something."

"I don't care!" I laugh softly, though I can feel my cheeks flushing. I tug on his shirt collar one last time, making sure everything is back in place.

Then, he looks at me with that familiar softness in his eyes, the intensity from earlier replaced with something deeper. His hand cups my cheek, his thumb brushing my skin, and for a moment, we just stand there in the dim light, staring at each other like the rest of the world doesn't exist.

"What if you were pregnant?"

...

- to be continued -

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@spectorrrhgf @tinawantstobeadoll @appetencyfortacos @weskerussy @kellyxo1 @larkkyoris @shukirschtein14 @corvusmorte @carefree-flowerchild @rexmeshlasblog @melmel-fandom @needz1nk @nonamevenus @morganlolitta @angelofthorr @pickuptruck01 @inlovewithcharmers @gaulty74 @mega-kittyglitter-1 @sylviavf @bethexo07

Next part

[phyrestartr]

Icarus Drabbles (Pt.3) | Sukuna x M!Reader

W/C: 3k #NSFW, Modern AU, ABO dynamics, bottom!reader, top!sukuna, Mob Boss!Sukuna, Alpha!Sukuna, Street Doctor!Reader, Omega!Reader, toxic relationships, age gap, sukuna is mid 30s, yuuji gang and reader are mid 20s, sukuna and yuuji are brothers, fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, blowies are received and given, mentions of character death

tags: @kamote-kuneho @prettorett @better-imagination-9 @flowersatwork @tr4nniez

Done Deal

“You let me fuck you, and I'll give you anything you want.” That was his proposition. No more flirting, no more attempts to seduce you, just his obsessive pining resulting in a deal. 

But you didn't seem too bothered sitting across the desk from none other than Ryoumen Sukuna, who lounged comfortably, puffing on a cigar like he didn't just offer to pay you for sex. Granted, it wasn't just the sex he wanted. It was more than that. 

You took a moment before speaking. “I thought you were the kind of guy who'd take without asking.” 

“Who, me? Come on, sweetheart, I'm a gentleman.” Sukuna grinned and watched you wave the coils of smoke out of your face. 

You looked him over, not betraying your thoughts. “And if I refuse?” 

Sukuna's smile simmered down, unamused with the mere concept of rejection. “I'll still get what I want. And you'll leave here penniless.” His men locked the doors loudly at the other end of the vast office, making their point. “So? What’ll it be?” 

You took a slow breath. “I want a condo. In Tokyo.” 

“That's it?” 

“Paid in full.” 

“Now you’re talkin'.” 

You stood from your chair and walked around the desk as you unzipped your jacket. “And my name's going on title.” 

Sukuna undressed you with his eyes like the millions of times he'd done so prior. “Ho? You wanna be the one to pay all the taxes, huh?” He turned his chair to you as you approached. Sukuna spread his legs wider to make room for you to stand between, but you instead boldly straddled his lap. He knew he liked you for a reason. 

“I can forward them to you.”

“You think I'll pay them?” One of his broad palms groped at your ass. His stomach coiled with excitement; he was going to enjoy ripping you apart. 

“I know you will,” you hummed. Sweetly, you tilted Sukuna's chin up to get a good look at his handsome face. 

“Oh?” 

“Mhm.”

“‘N why's that?” Sukuna whispered. 

“Because you want to.” Your hands slipped down his neck, down to his shoulders. “Because you think I'll come back for more.”

“I know you'll come back for more.” 

“If you live long enough,” you sighed before plucking the cigar from his fingers and snuffing it out. “These things'll kill you, you know.” 

Sukuna fucked you on his desk moments after. His men stayed in the room all the while, watching and shifting with unease or simmering urges of his own. He vaguely recalled taking a phone call, too. 

So how the hell did we end up here? He had to wonder; back then, he bribed you for your affection, paid you handsomely but purposefully left you wanting more and more and more. He wanted to provide for you, in a weird, twisted way, and that was his method since, well, he wasn't ever sure he'd really get you to stay. 

Yet there he was, waking up in a house with his husband next to him and his daughter in the crib beside you. It felt so…bizarrely natural. Normal. Almost like he met a need he didn't even know he had. 

He hardly spent his nights at his casino, Malevolent Shrine, any longer. He didn't wander the floors looking for liars and easy targets for his dealers. He didn't head up to his penthouse at the crack of dawn with a new dame on his arm every night; he wanted to come here, to the home he had built to house his new family. Sukuna wanted to collapse into this bed, hear you bitch and moan about Gojo or Geto or whatever idiot employed you that day, spend time with his little pup and listen to her yip and babble about nothing and everything. He wanted these moments. He wanted to cherish the little sparks of light in his life before the universe snuffed them out like– 

Gramps is dead, Yuuji had said, voice quivering on the other end of the line. What do we do? 

Sukuna closed his eyes and rubbed his face, willing away the memory. He hadn't had to act like a big brother in so long, but the instinct came rushing back to him the second he heard his little brother in tears. It was all handled swiftly, everything from the cremation, to probate, to settling the estate–but the weight of death and finality clung to the air like petrichor after a storm. 

Sukuna looked to your sleeping face for respite. It helped to see you, to be reminded that you'd chosen to stay with him through thick and thin. Still, he couldn't help but remember what his grandfather asked him the day he met Touka. 

Where does this end, kid? 

This. The gang life. The life that's too unrefined and brutal to be considered yakuza. Because Sukuna didn't deal in honour. He dealt in violence, drugs and money–that voice spoke louder than honour and family. 

But didn't he reclaim his family? Didn't he honour you with change? 

Where does this end, kid?

Maybe with honour and family. 

“I can feel you having a crisis,” your scratchy voice mumbled through the static in Sukuna's mind. Your eyes opened a crack to find his own crimson set before you wriggled up to him and half-laid on his chest. “What's wrong?”

“Your bony-ass chin’s digging into my tit.” 

“Mmmh.” 

“You like money more, or me?” He asked. 

You snorted. “I like you and your money equally.” You let your head loll to the side to press your cheek against his chest. “But I like you more, I guess.” 

“You guess?” 

“I'm kidding, idiot. If I cared about money, I would've married into the Zenin family.” You sat up and looked down at your partner with bleary eyes. “Where's this coming from anyway?”

Sukuna huffed and scowled at the ceiling. “Nowhere. It's nothing. Forget it.” 

“Don't be a little bitch. Just tell me.” And when he didn't budge, you added, “Suku. Come on.” And when he still refused to cooperate, you resorted to, “Alpha, please?” 

His eyes snapped to you so fucking fast it made his face burst into flames. You grinned, so stupidly enthralled and in love with how the gross, domestic pet name fucked him up and--fucking hell, it was so cute but so annoying. 

“Fuck you.” 

“N'awe, you're such a cutie sometimes.” You purred in delight and nuzzled all over his face. “My cute, sweet, broody alpha that I love so, so, so much.” 

“Shut up,” he snarled before viciously nuzzling back and attacking you with puppy nips and rude licks to your face. “Fucking omega. You're such a pain in the ass, you know that?” 

“So are you. That's why we work well together, right?” You held his face still and planted a proper kiss on his lips. “We'll be fine. No matter what happens.” 

Your alpha took a deep breath while he looked up at you, and sighed. You looked so calm and collected about the whole thing, so relaxed in the jaws of a shark that could eat you whole and leave nothing behind. Guess that was why he was so enamored with you. Only petty things, like the shitty little fish that nipped at toes, wore you down. Not the big, bad, unknown depths of the ocean. 

“You believe me?” You asked as you pinched his nose. 

Sukuna grimaced and tugged your hand away from his nose. “Fuckin’–yeah, I believe you.” He bit your fingers in revenge. 

It was your turn to make a face. “Disgusting.” 

“You wuv id,” Sukuna managed around your digits, grinning like an idiot. 

“I have bad taste in men.” You yanked your fingers free when you heard your little one coo and shuffle in her crib. Sukuna always found himself impressed with how fast your omega responded to the littlest of noises, always automatically cooing and trilling back to your baby like you'd done it your whole life. 

“But you sure you're alright?” You asked as you scooped up the little one. 

Sukuna sat up and leaned back against the headboard as you settled down beside him again. “‘M fine. Just…thinking.” 

“About your grandfather?” 

“Guess so.” 

You nodded and leaned into him, chest purring with comfortable vibrato as his heavy arm looped around you and pulled you close. 

“He was a good man. Lived a good life. Long one, too.” 

“Guess you’re not wrong. Don’t seem too torn up about it,” Sukuna grumbled, vaguely aware he was on the precipice of starting an early-morning argument. 

“People die,” you said, looking down at your babe. “He was old as fuck. I’d talked to him about life and death a thousand times anyway. His point of view on things helped me see things differently.”

“Oh?” Sukuna’s attention snapped down to your little one as her cherry-red eyes sleepily blinked open. “‘N what the hell did the old fart tell you, huh?” 

You smiled as Touka screeched happily, reaching up for her father and wiggling around in your lap until she could slug her way over to him (with much help from your guiding hands, of course). Sukuna, the fraidy cat that he was, awkwardly tried to aid his baby girl with crawling onto his lap, too. You kind of understood why–his hand was about as big as her body. He was probably afraid of smooshing her. 

“He told me energy can never be destroyed. It can only change shape and form. It’s the same with our souls.” 

“The fuck does that mean?” Sukuna grumbled as his daughter determinedly tried to stand to reach his face. You moved to help her stand, but he huffed and took over, uttering a grumpy ‘I got it’ as he carefully, carefully held her up onto her feet like one would a kitten. 

You smiled, so horribly smitten. “It means our bodies die, but our spirits can’t. They just change form before coming back and living life all over again.” 

“Hmph. Sounds stupid as–” Sukuna paused as a tiny hand landed on his mouth. 

“Bah!” Touka chirped. 

You pursed your lips and melted into your partner, a happy, summer scent pooling around the three of you. 

“Mhm, daddy’s a cranky little bitch, huh, baby?” 

“Big bitch,” Sukuna corrected, words muffled by the tiny overlord. He opened his mouth wide, lightly chomping on her pudgy little hand with the gentlest pibble nibbles he could manage. Judging by her squealing laughter, he was doing an okay job.

“Cranky big bitch–my bad.” You rolled your eyes and exhaled deeply. “But yeah, that’s basically it. Mentioned some stuff about soulmates–platonic or romantic or otherwise–tending to find each other in their next lives too. So, technically, you could be holding your grandfather reincarnated right now–”

“Babe, don’t make this fucking weird,” Your husband groaned. 

You laughed, loud and brash, before nuzzling him. “Sorry, sorry. Can’t help myself.” 

Sukuna scoffed, furrowed brow only easing as Touka assaulted him with little pats all over his face. 

“You’re a nightmare.” He leaned in and nuzzled his baby’s round cheeks with playful growls. “You’re a smaller fucking nightmare. Spitting image of your mum. How the fuck is that fair, huh?” 

“Well, you better get used to it,” you taunted. “She’s the only one you’re getting.”

Wait. What?

--

Devour

It’d been a while since Sukuna had handled an interrogation. He’d stepped away from doing it himself when you’d both gotten back together officially, thinking you’d be upset if you found out he was still beating the fuck out of rats and cheats wandering through his casino–but the opposite turned out to be true. 

You didn’t really care. You didn’t mind it at all, actually. You only requested he kept that sort of business away from the curious gaze of the little girl you both doted on incessantly. 

So, he took it to the basement of Malevolent Shrine. 

“Y'know, I really needed this,” Sukuna sighed, loosening his tie a bit more before he leaned against the table of lethal instruments and wiped the blood from his split knuckles. “Kid keeps me up all night. Wife's always bitching ‘bout being tired. ‘N then I got dipshits like you sneaking in, trying to access restricted floors.” 

The man he regarded scoffed, probably unable to catch his breath to clap back or, well, breathe. The sight had Sukuna grinning, pure delight and satisfaction coiling in his chest. 

“Got somethin’ to say?” 

The man coughed and tried to pull himself up from where he lay splayed on the floor. Sukuna never tied up his guests, no no, he always gave them a fair, fighting chance, stating they could go free if they could get past him. None ever did. 

“Y-you do this to that omega you stole?” The stranger managed as soon as he got on his knees. “Lock ‘im in a room, make them fight their way out?” 

Sukuna quirked a brow and crossed his arms over his broad chest. “Only omega I've had in here is the wife.” 

“Bullshit,” he spat. “You stole one that was sold to my benefactor.” 

The mob boss sighed and scratched the back of his head. “That's what you're here for? An omega that I never had?” Sukuna pushed off the table. “Well, that makes shit boring. You're here on a delusion.” 

“It's not–”

“Then who do you work for?” 

As expected, the idiot clammed up. Sukuna tutted. Why did all these bastards have to play hard to get? 

Ah, but then he had an epiphany--hadn't you mentioned marrying into the Zenin family? You brought it up not too long ago, back when Sukuna first started spiraling about life and death, about where his world of chaos would take him in the end. 

If I cared about money, I would've married into the Zenin family. 

Right. That's what you said. 

“Zenin Naoya,” Sukuna guessed. The heir was a rampant misogynistic piece of shit, wanting nothing to do with women on any level--but you? A man who could bear children, albeit through difficult means? That'd be invaluable to someone like Naoya. He could have his cake and eat it too. 

And by the way the crook's body tensed, Sukuna figured he hit the nail on the head. 

“No shit. That little freak’s really outdoing himself this time.” Sukuna laughed wildly, enthralled that he managed to piss off the Zenin heir by taking his bitch and knocking him up. God, the damage this would do to Naoya's ego.

“I'll let ya in on a little secret,” Sukuna sang, turning to the table and grabbing a set of pliers. “I wifed up that omega. Knocked him up already. Hopin’ he'll let up on the ‘one pup only’ policy. He's been real fuckin’ strict on the birth control, lemme tell ya.” 

“He won't forgive this,” the crook bit out. “He won't just–” 

Thwack. Sukuna cracked him upside the head and knelt on his chest, jamming the tool into his mouth and breaking a few teeth on the way in. 

“Fucker can try,” Sukuna murmured, voice growing thick with malice. His ruby eyes gleamed with predatory promise. “Killing him's at the top of my bucket list.” 

–

You were definitely possessed. 

How could you not be? You'd just seen your baby daddy (your very cut, handsome, snarky baby daddy) beat the shit out of one of your tormentor's grunts 

“Babe,” Sukuna moaned as you swallowed him down your throat again. You'd taken him hostage in the elevator the second he was done his deeds downstairs. It proved to be…somewhat problematic as people continued to open the doors, but eventually Sukuna hit the emergency stop button, nearly shattering the console. 

You hummed around him, pressing your tongue against thick, pulsing veins and squeezing at his base and sacks intermittently while your head bobbed to the beat of whatever tinny jazz played in the elevator. You kind of liked the tune. It sparked the idea of playing music next time Sukuna bedded you–

Bedded you. Ah. That seemed like a good next step. 

You pulled back with a disgusting pop and fought to catch your breath between leaving wet kisses and hickeys along his stiff length. Your hand worked him firm and fast, eager to get him to fall apart under your feverish, hypnotic touch. 

And he was close. You could tell by the way his hand held the back of your head, fingernails digging into your scalp every time you did something so, so right and so, so unbelievably good for the big bad mob boss you'd tricked into staying faithful to you. You figured you'd reward him for being such a good boy. It's what he deserved for sacrificing his freedom for you, and, quite frankly, you thought you'd been slacking on the praise. 

“Gonna cum?” You hummed, looking up at your partner through wet lashes. “Hm?”

Sukuna groaned. His fangs bit into his lip as he stared down at you, pupils blown wide, eclipsing the red of his iris. 

You smiled politely. “Mmh. I'll take that as a yes.” You kissed along his skin until reaching his weeping tip and giving it a gentle peck. “Where do you want it? On my face? In my mouth? Down my throat?” 

He bucked forward, jamming his tip between your lips and hissing when he felt the scratch of teeth against him. You sighed like he was such a nuisance, and opened up wide again, whining as he gripped your hair up into a messy, shitty ponytail before fucking into your mouth with reckless abandon. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck–” His body shuddered and he slammed inside one more time, squeezing his thick knot into your strained mouth and locking it behind your teeth as he rutted against your face, spilling down your throat. 

Your soft gags and chokes only made it better. He pulled your head closer, pressing your cute nose against the hazy line of his happy trail in a dizzy attempt to ground himself through the aftershocks of such a sudden turn of events. Going from beating the shit out of a sniveling sod to this was–

Your frantic smacking against his arm signaled your tap out. Sukuna cursed under his breath and worked in tandem with you to wiggle free the stiff problem stuffing your mouth and throat full. 

You gasped for breath. Drool and tears poured down your face as you coughed and swallowed whatever didn't have the chance to slip out of your aching mouth, and you wiped your mouth half-heartedly with the back of your hand. Sukuna hadn't seen a sight like that in a long, long while. Something so reminiscent of the early days of being bribed and paid for your services. 

“Christ,” Sukuna breathed as he brushed your hair out of your pretty face. “How much do I owe ya for that, huh?” 

You laughed between coughs before kissing his clothed thigh. “Just don't think I've appreciated you enough lately, you know?” You cleaned him up best you could before tucking your man away and standing to loop your arms around his shoulders. 

Sukuna caught your scent then; you smelled sweeter than usual. Warmer, too. Fuller. Something that reminded him of dough in the oven, billowing all around him and filling his senses with sinful sweetness. 

Your heat was on the horizon.

Sukuna smirked and switched the key holding the elevator closed and inoperable on the ground floor, and it started on its journey up, up, up. Time to get you back in bed. 

“Not appreciatin’ me enough, huh. Well, I was gonna mention it–” 

“Shut up. Don't be stupid right now.” 

Sukuna's grin grew. He leaned down, leaving soft kisses and nips along your neck, being sure to pay special attention to the scars he'd left behind. 

“You love when I talk shit.”

“You're free to believe that.”

“Oh? Then tell me what you've been appreciating about me, sweetheart. I'm all ears.” 

The doors opened to the penthouse floor, and you fought to drag the other out first.

“Your ass,” you replied, nearly exploding inside as Sukuna kicked the (unlocked) door in. Damn, how come he could do that so easily? 

“What else?” Sukuna's lips found yours time after time as you both fumbled your way toward the bedroom. 

You yelped as he threw you onto the bed. “J-Jesus–how strong you are.” 

“Yeah?” Sukuna kicked his dress shoes off and yanked your kicks off, too, before you had a chance to complain about shoes being on in the house. “Tell me more.”

“That's about it.” A sweet laugh bubbled out of you as he slipped in between your legs and kissed you like this was some highschool romcom.

“Oh? Lying now, aren't we?” 

“I think I need to examine you a little to remember, you know?” 

With all the strength you could muster, you turned the tables and flipped Sukuna onto his back, straddling his waist and running your hands up and down his chest. He still couldn't tell how you did it, but you flicked open every button of his dress shirt with unfathomable finesse before tracing the dips and curves of his defined muscles with teasing fingertips. 

“Hmmm…this is nice,” you murmured, taking your time to drink in the scar-riddled expanse of glowing, bronze skin. You scooted back, down his legs, to be able to plant soft kisses around his navel. 

Sukuna watched you with blown-out eyes; you were always good at teasing, at making sex electric and better than just cramming his cock into a hole. Secretly, he liked being pushed to the brink of insanity. Soft touches, whispered kisses, silent praise–it was all so your brand.

“What else?” Sukuna rasped as you left cheeky marks around his happy trail. 

“Hm. I wonder.” You took your time sidling up on his lap again, your hands taking charge and leading you up, up, up to his cut jawline and striking cheekbones. “This is nice, too.”

Sukuna licked his lips. “Yeah?” He Asked as he held your waist. 

“Mhm.” Your thumb stroked against his bottom lip thoughtfully before hooking inside and yanking his mouth open like a fish on a line. “This is a problem, though.” 

Your mate's heart thrummed like thunder. Rarely would he ever admit to liking being used, but when it came to you, his precious little trophy, Sukuna found himself far too eager to please. Too eager to consume. Too eager to be consumed. He could only hope you'd wreck him with whatever you wanted to do with that mouth of his. 

“Oh?” Sukuna breathed. Christ, his slacks were too fucking tight again. “The fuck you gonna do about it?” 

You sighed and shook your head. “God's work, I guess.” And you almost seemed burdened by what you ‘had to do’ as you loosened your waistband and wriggled up until you were straddling his broad chest with your weeping tip pressing against his lips. 

Sukuna grinned. “You think I'm gonna–” but he was more prepared for your rude push into his mouth than he let on–or he thought he was, anyway. He'd never really given head before, not really, but he'd given you a couple of handjobs in the past. Still, you were bigger than he remembered. Not as comically, ridiculously, stupidly big as Sukuna’s third leg, but you could probably stuff someone to the point of tears if you really felt the need. 

And, well, you were leaving tears in Sukuna's eyes, so theory confirmed.

“You're really bad at this,” you laughed. You held onto the headboard as you pushed into his mouth, letting him get used to it and adjust as a good mate should (maybe Sukuna should've taken notes). Thankfully, the man was a quick learner and a keener. He got used to the feeling of your length nudging against his throat, and posed himself a challenge to push it further. 

His hand grabbed at your ass and he pulled you closer, drowning in the sound of your warbled gasp mixing with a surprised yelp. Sukuna's other hand brute-forced his slacks open and fisted around his pulsing hard-on to the rhythm of your greedy thrusts into his mouth, down his tight, inexperienced throat. 

Your hips jolted and stuttered. Your hips stayed plastered to his face with weaker and weaker thrusts. Your forehead clunked against the rim of the headboard as your breathing got faster and faster, laced with tiny ah-ah-ah-s until–until–

“Shit–” you tried to pull away from him, tried to save him the grief of having to swallow down a load of cum (first time was always a terrible, terrible experience), but he wouldn't let you yank your hips away; his broad palm pressed against the small of your back and forced you flush against him, his nose pressing against skin as he swallowed and moaned around you like he'd been deepthroating cock his whole career. 

Somewhere in the haze of lightning and sparks, you felt him shudder and jolt under you, too. Then, like you'd done not so long ago, a swift tapping on your leg signaling, tap out, tap out! 

“Oh–fuck, sorry,” you babbled, hurriedly pulling yourself back and out of his mouth to let him breathe. “You're kind of a natural. I'm shocked.”

Sukuna was too busy coughing and fighting to catch his breath to snap back at you, though, and you couldn't help but laugh. 

“Shut it,” he scolded with a swift spank. “Spunk tastes like shit.” 

“But you’re not a spitter nor a quitter. You should be proud.” You smiled like the cheeky little shit you were before shimmying off your joggers and tossing them aside. “You did pretty well. Colour me impressed.”

“‘Course I did, who the fuck do you think I am?” He brought his other hand out of his pants and held them up to you, sticky with his own spend. “Deal with this.”

You whistled, and the heat in your face increased tenfold. “I guess you liked it. Good to know,” you said before holding his hand by the wrist and licking up.

“I'd be a freak if I didn't wanna make my bitch cum. ‘Specially when he's in heat ‘n primed to reopen the baby-making factory.” 

You looked at him, eyes round and owlish, before abandoning the mess on his hand in favour of kissing him. 

“The factory's open,” you assured, no doubt temporarily hypnotized by your body's desire to make your stupid alpha happy.

Sukuna rumbled a purr deep in his chest as he smirked. He'd gladly seize the moment.

“Let’s clock in and get to work, then.” 

–

Five is Better Than Three

Sukuna paced back and forth outside the bathroom door, impatient and anxious, waiting for you to just fucking tell me what the hell the deal was.

But Sukuna was anything but a patient man.

“Babe,” he growled, knocking on the door incessantly. “How long does It take to piss on a stick?” 

You scoffed. “I'm just--I'm trying to double check, you dumb bitch, shut up.” Your voice quivered the slightest bit, a soft sniffle or two barely making it above the radar. 

Sukuna sucked his teeth. He ran his hands through his hair and growled to himself, trying trying trying to stay patient, stay calm, stay–

“Sukuna,” you snapped when the door flung open. You were standing at the counter, an array of different pregnancy tests laid out before you neatly with you lording over them, face hot and eyes shimmering with…grief? Relief? Happiness? Sukuna didn't know, he didn't know. 

“Kept me waiting long enough, you fucking brat,” he came up behind you and stared down, clearing your noggin with ease and ignoring your grouchy quips and pinches. 

“I was–I just needed a minute, you stupid fuck, I'm--it's a lot!” You tried to push him away but, well, the man was an immovable object, and you were far from an unstoppable force. In the realm of physicality, at least. 

“Sukuna–” 

“This shit is like hieroglyphics,” he complained, picking up a test and squinting at it. His other hand held your waist to stop you from running away to hide. 

“It, uh. It means–well, I still need to get checked out officially but, uh, y'know. It's a yes. For now. Tentatively. All the tests are positive.” 

Sukuna exploded with happy puppy scent. He threw down the test and wrapped his arms around you, picking your smaller form up and swinging you around like a shotty romcom man should. 

And you laughed through your tears. You hugged him back once he put you down, and exploded into choked laugh-sobs as you pressed your face into his chest. His nice, strong, muscular chest that looked so good in that black tank top. 

“Oi, oi, what're the damn waterworks for, huh?” Sukuna asked through a wolfish grin. 

“I don't know, okay, just shut up.” You snuffled a few more times before sighing. “Maybe I'm just relieved that an old man like you still has a sperm count.”

“Hah. Big talk from a whore usin’ birth control and making me use a fucking condom ‘just in case.’” He nuzzled at your neck and purred deep in his chest. “Even then, my goods slipped through the cracks, huh? Doubt even getting your tubes tied could stop me from knockin’ your pretty little ass up, sweetheart.” 

You bit his tit while he cackled like a madman. “You're fucking gross and I hate you.” 

“N'awe. Would creaming on my cock make you feel better?” 

“No. Well, maybe later. But coffee and breakfast might subdue me right now.”

[talaok]

Drooling

Pairing: Joel Miller x reader

Summary: You find a lake and convince Ellie and Joel to take a swim, according to Ellie, giving Joel the perfect opportunity to confess his feelings for you.

warnings: just fluff

"Hey it's warm!" you shouted, waving at them as your fingers grazed the small lake's water.

"no fucking way!" Ellie shouted running towards you as Joel stayed behind.

"oh my god it's true" she looked up at you, eyes wide with excitement "Joel come here!" she shouted too now, waving at Joel, who reluctantly, started down towards you.

"so what do we do?" Ellie asked, ecstatic

"We go in" you immediately suggested

"wait" Joel interrupted "we don't know if it's safe"

You glared at him "c'mon Joel how long has it been since you showered?"

Ellie chuckled "yeah dude, seriously" she pinched her nose, joking.

"very funny" he sighed " it's not safe" he looked at you

"Well then how about I go in..." you said, taking off your backpack and jacket "and tell you if there's anything wrong..." you continued, taking off your shoes "and if there isn't, you can just join me?" you asked, "how's that sound?"

"no y/n-" Joel tried to talk

"it sounds very good to me, how 'bout you Elllie?"

"sounds great" 

"perfect then" you grinned, not giving Joel time to protest before turning towards the lake and taking off your shirt, only your white tank top left beneath as you eagerly entered the water.

Joel's heart forgot for a moment how to work,

Wow

God, it felt good.

You hadn't taken a bath in so long that you had forgotten how good it actually felt, especially in warm water, something unimaginable in the QZ.

"fuck" Joel breathed out at the sight, and Ellie just glanced at him, smirking amusedly.

"I think you can come in now, nothing's happened to me!" you shouted, smiling as you let your body rest in the water 

Ellie looked at Joel a moment for approval, and once he unenthusiastically nodded, Ellie was in the lake with you in no time, splashing around and laughing mindlessly at the precious feeling.

"this is so great!" she smiled

"I know" you nodded "I've missed this," you confessed, trailing off as your eyes caught Joel's figure, standing still on the edge of the lake, but looking the other way.

"Joel!" you called for him, and when he didn't turn you got closer, ending up right below him "Joel!" you called again, splashing some water onto him.

He turned now 

"what are you doing? get in"

"Someone had to keep guard"

"oh please no one's here" you rolled your eyes "get inside right now Joel"

"I-" he opened his mouth to say something but stopped midway.

"c'mon, just five minutes" you pouted, and once again, his heart took a toll. He could never say no to you, not when you were looking at him like that.

"fine" he sighed, and you smiled happily, as he warily got in.

"it feels good doesn't it?"

He glanced at you, sunkissed, happy, and as much as he fought it, he couldn't help but smile.

"yeah" he agreed "yeah it does"

"see" you smacked his shoulder playfully "you should listen to me more"

"I listen to you y/n" 

"oh you do?" you cocked an eyebrow

"yes, just not when it's about survival"

"What?" you gasped, "you think you're better at it than me?"

"well I do vaguely remember a time you almost shot me in the leg by mistake" he tilted his head, making you laugh, and god, did that sound sweet to his ears.

"That was one time" you complained

"and it was enough" he chuckled

"fine" you surrendered, moving to his side to peek at Ellie, who looked busy testing her apnea skills.

"Thanks for doing this" you rested your head on his shoulder, "I know you don't like to waste time"

Joel wasn't sure if he was dreaming or not, just like every time you touched him.

You looked up at him once he didn't answer, and he had to force himself quickly out of his trance.

"It's fine," he said, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible "I like this"

"I'm glad" you smiled, nestling a bit more onto his broad chest, as you closed your eyes.

The five minutes eventually mutated into an hour, an hour Joel spent pretending not to be staring at you as you rested on him, the warm water drowning out his thoughts as he finally put his arms around you.

he didn't know what he had done to deserve this, but whatever it was, he was gonna agree to all your suggestions from now on.

You opened your eyes, and as you did, you pretended not to notice Joel looking away.

"how long has it been?" you asked, your voice a bit tired.

"an hour I think"

"oh" you breathed "we should go"

"why didn't you tell me?"

Fuck

I didn't want you to move away from me,

I want you this close forever.

"I didn't wanna disturb you"

you smiled "you're cute" 

He didn't know what to say

"uh-thanks?"

Your smile only widened and you called for Ellie, telling her it was time to go.

"We should dry up," you told him, and he nodded, following you as you got out of the water.

His eyes never left you.

As you were busy drying your hair with one of your shirts, he let his glare wander all over you, from the bottom lip you were caging between your teeth, to the cheeks the sun had reddened, and, as much as he tried to refrain, his eyes couldn't stop wandering to the now see-trough tank top stuck to your body, that was granting him a visual of your bra, and of what it couldn't cover.

You always looked beautiful, but now, now a bit too much for Joel's poor heart.

"If you don't close your mouth you're gonna drool"

what?

He looked to his right to see Ellie grinning smugly at him.

He just grunted, going back to dry himself.

"y'know, I gave you some alone time there before, but you wasted it" she shook her head, as if disappointed.

He frowned at her.

"you could have made your move, dude!" she raised her eyebrows "it was the perfect moment!"

He glanced at you to make sure you weren't listening, but still didn't answer, not wanting to give Ellie the satisfaction.

"Listen if you want my advice”

“I didn’t ask for your advide”

She scowled at him“well anyway, I think you should just tell her" she shrugged "I mean, it's not like she doesn't already know "she laughed softly "you're really not good at hiding it"

"shut up" he grumbled, putting on his jacket

"what? it's true Joel, you look like a fucking serial killer" she chuckled "always staring at her and shit" 

He wanted to fight back, but she was kind of right on that one, he had noticed it too.

"Fine" she sighed "maybe I should just tell her then "

“no-Ellie-" He abruptly turned to her

"so you are admitting it!" she smiled "you like her"

"no-" he let out a frustrated sigh "I'm not admitting anything, just don't say shit ok?"

Ellie nodded, still a smug smile on her lips "fine"

"but at one point, you're gonna have to"

[detroit-become-hurt]

Baby I'm Down Bad For You

Hi. Okay. Sevika fic because I have brain rot I tell you, brain rot! Also I haven't watched S2 of Arcane yet, I don't have my netflix sub anymore. But I've seen stuff on tiktok so I have a vague idea what happens. Modern AU Sevika x Reader

Sevika sighed as she peered around the bar, glass of whiskey in hand as she thoughtfully wondered if it was too late to back out now and go home. She had begrudgingly agreed to a stupid blind date, why? she wasn’t quite sure herself. Maybe she was tired of being lonely, tired of being disappointed by shallow and self centered women who wanted to get close to her for the sake of money. So when a colleague at work offered to set her up on a blind date, she thought to hell with it.

But now, as she sat in the bar overlooking the inhabitants, she wondered if this was a good idea. She didn’t want to admit that she really wanted this to turn into something good. She was tired of seeing couples around her, lovey dovey and shit. Though she never showed or voiced it, Sevika ached for companionship. Someone to come home to at the end of the day, and curl up on the couch with.

Downing the rest of the alcohol she pulls out a cigarette, lighting it and taking a deep drag. She much preferred cigars, but in places and times like these, cigarettes would work. How much longer would she have to wait? She had no clue what you looked liked, so how was she supposed to know when you were here?

Almost as if hearing her thoughts, you make your way into the crowded bar. The music is loud, too loud really. And there’s too many people for your liking. Why couldn’t your friend suggest someplace more chill for a blind date? Your eyes scan the crowd, searching for the figure that matched the description your friend had given you.

“I’ll try not to give too much away. But she’s quite tall, broad shoulders, and muscular.” She adds, waggling her eyebrows in your direction. “Also, you can’t miss her with that shiny ass prosthetic she has.” This had caught your attention, and when asking about it your friend simply stated it wasn’t her place to say. “You can ask her about it, but I wouldn’t open the conversation with that.” She advised you. You can’t help but roll your eyes, like you would be rude and insensitive enough to ask that.

The dress you wore clung to your body, and it was hard not to feel self conscious even though no one had even spared you a second glance. You rarely dressed like this, opting for looser fitting clothes as you weren’t exactly skinny. You prayed that your date wouldn’t be so self centered to care about your physique. 

As you made your way farther into the bar, you finally caught a glimpse of someone who matched your friend's description. The light reflecting off her prosthetic gave her away, and it felt like the air had been sucked out of you. She was beautiful, definitely muscular and broad shouldered. Her nose curved downwards, face framed by dark locks pulled into a half assed bun. The most stunning thing about her though was her eyes, a steely gray that seemed to reflect light. God you were down bad for someone you haven’t even met yet.

‘Just stay calm.’ Is all you can think as you slowly make your way over to the bar. “Um…Sevika?” You asked and she turned to face you, looking down after a moment of realizing how short you were compared to her. She hasn't said anything yet, so you decided to continue talking. “I’m y/n. And I’m uh, your blind date hehe.” you can’t help but let out a nervous laugh, rubbing the back of your neck as your chest up to your face flushes red from embarrassment. You don’t know that Sevika thinks it’s cute.

You also don’t know that for once, Sevika feels excitement upon seeing you. She feels hopeful, already getting the vibe that you weren’t like the other women she’s talked to in the past. To her, you’re absolutely stunning, and she can’t help but rake her eyes over the curves of your hips to the swell of your tummy as the dress clings to it. It makes her absolutely feral.

Adorning a cocky smirk she straightens up to her full height, and you have to crane your neck back a bit to keep eye contact. “Pleasure to meet you,” her gravelly voice sends a wave of warmth to your core and it takes everything in you to not turn around and run out of this damn place. “Can I buy you a drink?” She asks, pulling a stool out for you.

Hopping onto the seat you shyly admit you don’t drink very often, asking her what’s good. Sevika lets out a boisterous laugh, asking if you prefer something sweet to something stronger. “Definitely sweet.” you confirm, nose wrinkling at the thought of straight liquor, and Sev can’t help but think how cute that is. 

Drinks ordered you both sit in a comfortable silence for a moment til Sevika spoke up, “I’m going to be honest,” Oh no. here it comes. The “you seem pretty great and all but you’re not really my type” speech. Sevika takes a sip of her second glass of whiskey, hoping it will give her the courage to remain confident, and honest. “I’m not very good at these kinds of things. Dating has never been my…forte. So I apologize if I make you uncomfortable in any way.”

Oh. That’s not what you expected at all. 

“Dating has never been my strong suit either…” you admit sipping on your own drink. You miss the look of shock on Sevika’s face. To her, she can’t believe that you’re even single. 

“Perhaps then this is a chance for both of us…”She states sincerely. You look at her and give her a warm smile that causes her stomach to summersault. Throughout the rest of the evening the two of you chatted about anything and everything, divulging secrets here and there. You felt comfortable with Sevika, like you had known her a long time despite it being your first time meeting her now. Eventually the two of you were kicked out as the bar had to close down.

Sevika walked you to your car, rubbing the back of her neck sheepishly. “Didn’t mean to keep you out so late doll.” her voice is low and gravelly, and god you could scream at how fine this woman was. 

“S’kay. I don’t mind. I had a great time tonight. Could I get your number?” You felt emboldened by the several drinks you had, normally you wouldn’t ask such a thing. Swapping contact info the two of you are then left in a comfortable silence, just admiring one another. “Well, I suppose we should part ways.” You finally break the silence. With your heart pounding in your chest you take a step closer to Sevika, and she watches your every move, wondering what you’re going to do next. Standing on your tiptoes you lean in and give a gentle kiss to Sevika’s cheek, both of your faces burning. 

“Goodnight doll. I’ll see you around.” Sevika smirks despite her face flushed red as you get into your car. You can’t help but spare her one last glance before pulling away, at which she gives you a small wave. 

If Sevika was sure of anything, she had it bad for you.

[covetyou]

stupid cupid

ao3 ⋆ main masterlist ⋆ series masterlist

pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader rating: Explicit (18+ only!) warnings: oral sex (f receiving), unprotected P in V, a few ass slaps, sex toys (butt plug and a dp dildo), anal play, anal sex (with a dildo), double penetration, creampie, vague fluff and emerging feelings (gross), the wings stay ON. word count: 5.2k summary: Joel makes a return to your home, this time with another gift to give. Will you be his Valentine?

A/N: he's here. he's back. baubles joel, big bawl joel, the holiday king himself. and yes, yet again something that probably shouldn't be a series is becoming a loose-fit series because I just can't quit.

I guess you can all be my Valentine's if you'd like and we can smooch and hold hands and stuff, idk (I love you 💛) gorgeous V day divider by @saradika-graphics

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You didn't expect to scream the moment you entered your bedroom after a long day at work.

Of course, you had wanted to scream all day. First, when you spent the morning fighting with a piece of software that just did not want to work. Then, when you watched your colleagues trickle out of the building well before 5pm, all on their way to romantic dates, while you were stuck in your seat making up for your - and their - lost time this morning. And when you finally stumbled from the building at 8pm, only to sit in traffic for another fucking hour? You may just have let a furious squeal escape your throat as you gripped the steering wheel.

As you finally pulled into your driveway, the only things on your mind were a hot shower and takeout food.

The first part had gone without a hitch. Mostly.

Stripping off your work clothes before you'd even got to the bathroom, you hadn't noticed a single thing different about your home. As you tossed your clothes into the hamper, nothing was amiss. Stepping under the hot stream of water, you felt totally at peace for the first time that day. There was a kind of serenity to be found in your own bathroom that didn't exist anywhere else. No, nothing was unusual at all.

And then you'd loosely wrapped a towel around you, not bothering to dry yourself, and crossed the short distance across the hall to your bedroom. You weren't to know you never closed the door this morning when you left - that was 14 hours ago, afterall. Sunset had long since been and gone, so how were you to see anything, or anyone, where it shouldn't be until you sleepily flicked the light on after closing the door behind you.

So, naturally, when your brain finally registered DANGER - INTRUDER you screamed, almost dropping your towel in the process.

And that's where you still are, locked to the spot, fight or flight truly fucking off from your mind entirely, as you stare straight ahead.

There's a man on your bed. A very familiar man. His hulking figure splayed across it like some kind of fucking renaissance painting, naked as the day he was born, except for the fairy wings strapped to his back with elastic and... is that a bow and arrow? And a pacifier?

"Santa Joel?"

Joel rolls his eyes, pulling the pacifier from his mouth with a pop.

"I ain't Santa. Does this look like Santa to you?" he says, with a sweeping broad gesture down his body. He decidedly does not look like Santa. You're not sure what he looks like, and you're not sure you care when you can't help but notice he's at half mast already. Dragging your eyes from his crotch, you look at his face, somehow sweet and angelic even with his dick out.

"Okay, well... what are you?"

Looking at you in disbelief, he slaps the pacifier down onto the bed before swinging his legs over the edge to sit upright. Only, now you're not so sure it's a pacifier. It looks like a - but why was he sucking on it?

"Ain't it Valentine's Day? I'm Cupid, stupid."

"Cupid Joel?"

"Cupid Joel. It really that difficult to work out?" With a lopsided grin he picks up the bow, miming shooting you, before resting his elbows on his knees. The soft trickle of water down your body feels more and more like you're melting by the second. A practical stranger like Joel shouldn't have been able to do this to you the first time, but the fact he was here again, charming and suave, despite the nudity and criminal activity, told you all you needed to know. You were painfully and woefully attracted to him and you would do just about anything to have a night with him again.

"Well, Cupid Joel, you broke into my house. Again."

He ignores you, lounging back on your bed and spreading his knees wide, picking up the - yep, that's definitely a butt plug - again and sucking it into his mouth. Removing it with a flourish, he looks you up and down, a question in his eyes before looking to his own cock, now much harder than it was a moment ago.

"Different guy, you said that was Santa Joel." You can see him holding back a laugh, and you'd be tempted to wipe the smirk from his face if you weren't rooted to the spot. "Anyway, that guy told me he didn't see any pictures when he was here, guessed you didn't have a Valentine. Figure everyone deserves some lovin' on the big day," he says with a shrug and a quirk of his mouth. "So, here I am. Your very own Cupid, if you'll have me, 'course. Don't gotta stay, I can leave if you want me to."

You didn't want him to leave. He'd broken into your house again, and you were exhausted, but seeing him lie there, naked in your bed with the evidence of his little dress up game strewn around him, stirred things in you. If he was willing to give you some lovin' then who were you to turn that down. You're only human, after all, and it is Valentine's Day.

So, you do the only logical thing in that moment and drop your towel without another thought.

"'Atta girl," Joel chuckles patting the bed beside him. "C'mere, got you a present."

Incredible, if slightly strange, sex with a stranger, and he bought you a present? Suddenly the day isn't feeling quite as shit as it was an hour ago, and damp and naked, you approach your bed. You're close enough to him now that you can smell him again, that soft oaky smell throwing you back to the twinkling lights of Christmas Eve. You didn't know any more about him now than you did that night, really. Though, truth be told, you hadn't tried too hard to find him. You had a good time, and the soft lit fantasy of Santa Joel was something you enjoyed exactly as it was. Unveil the man, and you threatened to ruin that fantasy. But a night with Cupid Joel? That could be a new fantasy altogether.

"S'not Christmas any more, don't remember ever having to sit on Cupid's knee to get a Valentine," you murmur, sitting back on your heels as Joel's large hand slides up your thigh. You watch as it moves from your knee to your hip and back again, fingers gently teasing your sensitive inner thigh on the way down. The only hands that had touched you since Christmas were your own, though you had spent night after night imagining his all over you. You were starting to think you'd fallen asleep at the wheel and this was all some wonderful stress dream.

But then he presses a soft kiss to your knee, the scratch of his facial hair rubbing just enough to let you know this is all very, very real and you'd very much like more of it.

"Ain't gonna make you sit on my knee for it. Might want you to sit on somethin' else though."

You laugh, rolling your eyes. "Real smooth, Cupid."

And then he's smiling up at you as he leans forward to kiss your thigh, then your belly, pushing you back with one large hand until you're laying beneath him, spread bare and open as he makes his way back down to your thighs.

It's so easy to get lost in it. The soft scratch of the scruff on his chin, rough fingertips moving gently across your thighs, soft lips pressing and sucking delicately on you, catching the last specks of water from your skin with each pass of his mouth. Your eyes drift closed just as his breath ghosts across your mound, another soft kiss soon following, and another, and another.

Until, blissfully, his soft mouth connects with your clit, tongue peaking out to swipe across the sensitive bud. It had been so long since anyone had gone down on you, long before you made the move to Texas last year, you'd almost forgotten what it felt like. Stuttering for a while, you're about to feebly mumble how good it feels, but all thoughts grind to a halt when he sucks your clit into his mouth, moaning before softly releasing. You had never had a man moan eating your cunt before, and now here you were, fairly certain angels were real and you'd gone to heaven, taken there by Cupid Joel and his wings.

"You always this late home, or did you have a date that went to shit?" he mumbles around your clit. It's a small sneaky way that he asks, wanting clarification on something he was almost certain of but you had yet to confirm. There were no pictures in your house, but that didn't mean there wasn't anyone in the picture.

Shaking your head, you gasp out a response. "Work - work went to shit. Ohh."

"Bad day?"

"Yeah, it - fuck, Joel."

It's then that you take your first opportunity to look down and see him between your legs. His hair looks even fluffier, his hands pushing your thighs open while his fingers pull you apart at the seams. His eyes closed, lashes fanned against his cheek, tongue softly lapping against your center, gusts of his hot breath billowing against your mound. He's beautiful.

And he's still in the fucking fairy wings.

A laugh primes itself, ready to explode out of you, but another firm lick sends you reeling, head hitting the mattress with a thud. Whatever he's doing to you, whatever this fucking day has done to you, you're going to come, and fast.

"Cu-Cupid Joel. Don't fucking stop."

Joel stops mid-lick, earning a frustrated moan from you, eyes widening from where he looks up between your thighs. "Already?" he asks in disbelief, noticing how quickly your legs and cunt have started to twitch.

"Stupid fucking cupid, don't stop, please."

His mouth finds your clit again and he's devouring you, lapping quickly against your cunt as your squirm into him, hips rocking your cunt against his tongue. Another day you'll wonder if it was his tongue or your movement that got you there, but right now all you know is the thick syrupy feeling in your veins as an orgasm quickly rockets through you, a strangled moan leaving your throat as you fist your sheets in your hands. You've muffled him, your thighs clamping around his head as he pushes further forward, tongue buried in your folds until you can't take it any more and you're desperately pulling away from him.

When you release your grip on his head, he gasps, cursing into the plushness of your thighs. Sitting up, he looks down at you, the bedroom light illuminating him from behind, making the wings glow on his back like your very own heavenly creature.

"Wanna see your present now?"

The fog in your head has barely cleared, your ears still fuzzy as you take in his words. Somehow a tongue on your pussy wasn't your Valentine's gift from Cupid?

"Wha - that wasn't it?"

"Nope."

"Is that it," you say, letting a thread of hope feed into your voice while you nod to where his cock hangs heavy between his legs.

"Not exactly, but you can have that too if you want it, darlin'."

You don't know what you expect, but Joel reaches over and picks the butt plug from where he'd discarded it on your bed earlier, and holds it out to you.

"Don't know if you're into it but," he holds the plug out to you, base first. The pink glass looks so delicate in his fingers, and it takes a twist of his hand for you to see it, but the heart shaped base of the plug soon becomes clear to you, brain foggy as it is, and you laugh, the sound bubbling out of your lips as your head tips back, laughing so hard you can feel your tits shake.

"You had that in your mouth."

Joel shrugs. "Better now than after it's been in your ass."

"Why're you so sure it's goin' into my ass?"

Got him, flashes through your mind when you watch his face drop. You don't let him suffer for long.

"I'm fucking with you. You're tellin' me you broke into my house but didn't go through my shit? I got three in the drawer over there."

"Three?!" he says in faux shock, rolling you over onto your front and grabbing at your ass cheeks. He pulls them apart, the cool glass in his hand pushing into your cheek as he tugs you open.

You shriek, swatting behind you as you laugh again. "Joel- what the fuck are you doing!?"

"Checkin' where you keep these three assholes."

"I'm lookin' at one asshole right now."

Now it's his turn to laugh, a deep rich sound that has your toes curling and your pulse sky rocketing, pulling you out of it with a gasp when he slaps a hand down on your ass only to watch it ripple with the impact.

"So, do you want it in?"

"Mhm, I have lube in the bedside table."

A rummage later, you wait, kicking your feet in the air, resting your chin in the cup of your palm. When he turns again, he sees you waving your ass from side to side, ready for him. Slick is coating your pussy, your upper thighs glossy with it too.

"That a present all for me?"

Pulling your cheeks apart again, he kisses each one, lightly nipping on the soft flesh as he does. And then, without much warning, he burries his tongue between your spread legs, licking a thick stripe from your clit to your asshole, groaning with every lick over your tight ring. Fisting the sheets, you press your face into the mattress. If he's going to keep doing this before he even fucks you, you're going to come again and fall asleep before he can get inside you.

"I thought this was a present for me, you're acting mighty excited back there."

"It is. Never said I wouldn't get anythin' outta it though."

A cool trickle of lube drizzles into your crack, quickly spread by Joel's large finger. He teases for a moment, circling your tight hole a little before gently pushing in.

"Fuck."

Moaning in agreement, you almost speak to agree, but then his finger is gently fucking your asshole and all words fail you. Coming just a moment ago did nothing to stop the need you had for this man, the feeling in your core growing tenfold as each moment passed.

"Fuck, Joel, put it in my ass and fuck me already."

The strangled noise from behind you startles you, and you look back for a second to see Joel's eyes pinched together and his head thrown back as his hand grips tightly around the base of his cock, wings falling forward over his shoulders as he desperately tries to relax himself.

"You can't say shit like that to me, darlin'."

"Then stick it in me, stupid."

Fingers slick with lube, he strokes the plug, before sliding the cold tip across your hole.

"Wanted go slow. Wanna watch you take it."

With a soft push, he presses the tip forward, watching as your hole accepts the cold tip with ease. This was always something you loved, even playing with your plugs by yourself when the feeling took you. It had been too long since anyone else had played with your ass, and you can't say you were too mad about Joel being the first to touch you there in so long.

The stretch is soft, and soon the bulb of the head pushes past your tight ring, making Joel hiss behind you as he watches you take it. He fucks you with it once, then twice, before pushing firmly, letting your ass take the entire length of the plug. Twisting it, he sits the heart upright, before leaning forward to kiss it. It's not often you get a man's face buried in your ass so, figuring it's karmic justice for the species, you push back into him, holding back a laugh when a small oomph escapes his lips when your ass collides with his face.

"Gonna tell Santa Joel you did that. No nice list for you."

"Then if I'm already on the naughty list, fuck me already. You promised me lovin'."

Wiggling your ass, you arch your back to expose your pussy to him even more. He hasn't so much as put a finger in you yet, and part of you is glad for it. You want to feel his cock pull you apart as it fills you, pushing past the ridge of the plug lodged in your ass. You want to feel stretched and full and ruined.

Joel seems to be on the same page, shuffling forward, dick in hand, sliding the tip through your slick folds. Catching on your entrance, he runs the tip of his dick across the plug where it's nestled inside you before pushing down, slipping into your empty hole.

And fuck is it tight. If it feels this good for you, the half-filled and stretched wide feeling of his cock in one hole and the plug in the other, you wonder how it must feel on his dick. You're wet, dripping really, soaking his cock and letting him in with ease, but there's the solid lump of the plug dragging along the top side of his cock as he pushes in.

Deciding he's going too fucking slow, too tentative when all you want is to be filled, you push back. In one swift rock you take him to the root, gasping and hitting the bed with your fists as he bottoms out, his own fingers digging into you flesh harshly.

"Sh-fuck, fuck."

Stopping, you almost pull away, worried you might have hurt him, but his grip stops you. Before you can turn or question him, he's pulling back, slamming in hard again, groaning when you take him completely.

If Santa Joel destroyed you, Cupid Joel is going to wreck you entirely. And you welcome it.

He's fucking you steadily in no time, relishing in the sound of your moans getting higher and higher in pitch with each pound.

Your knees buckle first, planting you face first in your sheets. Joel tries to pull you up, but his own knees are slipping, dragged down by the grip of your cunt on his cock. Giving in, he crowds over you, pumping deep into you despite the tangle of limbs you've become in the last few seconds. Somewhere in the scuffle you've kicked the bow and arrow, listening as they clatter to the floor just as tangled as the two of you are.

He's warm, and sweaty, and heavy above you, holding just enough of his weight on his elbows to let you breathe. Making a few more shallow thrusts, he suddenly stills, nose breathing deep into your hair.

"Shit. Can't come yet. I got one more surprise for you," he pants into your ear, offering you a soft kiss to your shoulder before his weight shifts.

You want to grab him and hold him to you, beg him to come in you already, but he has other ideas and he's pulling out before you can grab him. "Ugh."

"Gimme a sec," he grunts from behind you. "Can't - hmfph - get it over - god damn it - my balls. There. Got it. Snug but, damn, look at that."

Looking behind you, you watch as he sways from side to side, looking down where his cock bobs between his legs. He's mesmerized, and soon so are you.

He's strapped another cock just below his own, the tapered black dildo just shorter than he is. It sits flush to his full balls, anchored to them by a thick ring, another wrapped around his length. Even with the sounds of his struggle, you're amazed he got it on so quickly.

"Don't have to take both but," and he shrugs - fucking shrugs all coy and uncertain as if he hasn't reached into the depths of your brain and pulled out your most desperate fantasy of taking two cocks at once.

"Didn't wanna spook you, but given you like gettin' your asshole played with," he says with a press to the plug still sat in your ass. "Worth finding out if you're into ass fuckin' too."

You were. Fuck yes, you were. You had your own collection of toys and plugs for a reason, but it had been a criminally long time since anyone had really fucked you there. Other than Joel, it had been a criminally long time since anyone had fucked you anywhere.

"If I say yes, what else are you gonna pull out from back there? You got a bag of tricks around here somewhere."

Joel gives you a toothy grin, stroking his hand over his slicked cock before sliding two fingers straight into you. "Tool bag is downstairs, but ain't got anythin' in there I'd like to put in here darlin', don't worry."

Fingers slipping slick and wet inside you, pressing firmly upward with help of the plug still lodged in your ass, you're rendered speechless again. Reaching out for him you hold his hand in place, fucking yourself on his fingers for a moment before reaching further toward him.

Joel gasps when your hand gently cups around his balls, the thick rings of the toy strapped around them making them seem even fuller with the press of the dildo into them. You roll reach one beneath your fingers, catching the dark look in his eyes.

"You like 'em, huh? Know you liked havin' 'em in here."

"Fuck. Thought about it so much since. Dreamed of you coming back to fuck me with them again."

"Tsk, ain't disappointing you, am I?"

"Joel, you have two cocks and you're threatening me with a good time. You couldn't disappoint me right now even if you tried. And you broke into my house. Again. Now, if you don't fuck my ass with either of the cocks you have there soon I'm going to do it myself," you say, fingers stilling on his balls, before you think again and add, "Please."

"Since you asked so nicely, sweetheart. C'mon now, lemme take this out. Can put it back in this needy hole after. That's it."

It's surreal, looking up at him as he gently tugs the plug out of your ass, offering you sweet murmurs of encouragement. You know nothing about him, save for his first name and penchant for dress up games. And yet, the desire you have for him is steadily creeping upward as time ticks on. Truthfully, you didn't even really remember what he looked like when you thought about him, fingers toying with your clit as you came to memories of Christmas eve. Low light and mind melting orgasms will do that to you. All you knew was his voice and the soft filthy way he fucked you. Now, getting a proper look at him without the shield of twinkling lights and that red jacket, you can truly appreciate him. He's fit, though you suspect he's never stepped foot in a gym a day in his life. He's soft too, in the way that strong sturdy things are soft. You want nothing more than to pull him into you, to press his softness against your own as he ruts into your holes, but that's decidedly not what this is. Whatever this is, between the mild crime and fucking, it isn't that sort of soft sweet thing.

You don't know how he's going to do it, which cock is going to take which hole, but you decide you don't care when he's leaning over you to press a soft kiss to your lips. When your legs wrap around him of their own accord it's all but decided, and he takes his cock in hand - his real one - and lines up with your dripping slit, pushing in slightly before fumbling below for the other. It takes a moment - the lubed up dildo slipping from his grasp as he huffs and tries, but fails, to slot it against you. Briefly tangling your fingers with his, you take over, positioning the toy at your ass, feeling it slip in a little already as he grinds his hips forward, desperate to be balls deep in you again. With both cocks poised and ready you moan, quivering and clamping your eyes shut at merely the thought of being fucked in both holes at once.

With one more press forward, Joel slides in, the glide of lube easing the dildo into your ass as his cock reclaims its place inside your pussy.

And fuck, you have never been so full, and Joel has never fucked something so damn tight. The space his cock would normally make is taken up by the dildo, fighting for position inside of you as he rocks gently, sliding in and out of you with gradually deeper movements. The deeper he presses, the more desperate your moans become, and you catch the hesitation in his face before he can move.

"Don't you fuckin' dare stop."

This time he doesn't, wordlessly pushing into you and filling both your holes to the brim as sweat trickles down his face. You want to lick it off him, to sink your nails into his back, wings be damned, to lick the salt from his skin and bite down into the the firm flesh at his neck. But the only thing you can do before he's fucking you in earnest is grab hold, careful to avoid snapping the elastic of his wings against his shoulders as he pounds forward. There's no candlelight and rose petals here, just the raw sound of skin slapping against skin, grunts heaving into the air as you pull yourselves into each other.

"Tell me how it feels," you rasp into his ear, watching the flap of wings over his shoulder. "Tell me how it feels fucking me with both of your cocks."

"Oh, shit, it's good. So good, baby. Someone's definitely goin' on the naughty list next Christmas. You likin' this? You likin' being fucked in both holes?"

A frantic nod is all you can manage as he starts hitting a spot in you you didn't know existed, building pressure in your cunt like never before.

"I know. You're just so full, ain't you. Take two dicks so well. Pulling me in so good."

Hoisting your legs over Joel's hips, you grip around him, a loud moan bursting out of your chest as he fucks back down, deeper now at the new angle. This is it. This is how you die, you're sure of it.

"How close - How close are you. I think I'm gonna - fuck - die -AH!"

He stops grunting for a moment to force out a breathless "Am I hurtin'?"

It only takes one look at you for Joel to realize he's not hurting you at all. There you are, fucked all the way to oblivion and back, a chorus of angels screaming in your ears with each snap of his hips. You're going to come again, clit untouched and holes filled, a way you've never managed to before. You don't even know how it's happening, all you know is that suddenly your soul feels like it's being pulled straight from your bones, through the middle of you and out through your cunt and asshole at the hands of Cupid Joel himself. And then you're gushing, mind and pussy totally detached as you come, soaking his cock and your sheets.

"Yeah that's it," he grunts, his weight surrounding you once more as he pushes into your spasming holes over and over, chasing his own release. If it wasn't for the damn tight rings around his cock and balls he would've come already, but your moans in his ear and your fingers gripping his shoulders spur him forward.

"Joel."

"Gonna come. Gonna fuckin' - uh - come in your tight fuckin' pussy."

"Yes, yes, come in me, please, I can't, I'm gonna -"

Joel stiffens, hips stuttering as he gives you a few hard, shallow thrusts, before he explodes inside you, groaning so loud it makes your ears ring and cunt make one last attempt to clench around him. As much as you soaked him, he's just filled your cunt, cum pushing deep inside you with each spurt, locked in place by the fullness of the two cocks inside you. You collapse back, your ears still ringing and your limbs feeling soft and heavy.

This time you're certain black out for a moment.

But when you peel open your eyes, Cupid Joel is above you again, halo'd by the bright yellow light on your bedroom ceiling. His hair is damp, wet even, from sweat, a bead trickling down his neck and glittering in the light. And in his eyes there's concern, a worried pinch in his brow as he searches your face.

"You passed out -"

"- You're still here."

He rolls his eyes. "Way to make a guy feel special, sweetheart," he says with a cocky smile. "Just checkin' on you, but I can get goin' as long as you're okay."

You nod, the movement feeling as slurred as your speech. "You left. Last time. Saw you walkin'. Jus' wonderin'."

"Wait... you saw that? Shit, I thought you were asleep."

"No, wasn't 'sleep."

"You gonna sleep now?"

"No," you murmur with a nod, closing your eyes as you feel the last sweep of his hand down your neck, pulling a sheet over your limp form, just for you to mumble one last thing before the soft darkness takes you. "Balls... next time... please."

"You got it, darlin'."

It's an arduous journey to the bathroom when you wake up in the dead of night, remnants of cum trickling down your legs and thighs sticking together. Quickly cleaning yourself up, you check the house for signs of him, already knowing that he's long gone. You wonder how he left this time, whether he kept the wings on, whether he still had a second cock strapped to his own as he escaped into the darkness. For all you know, your cupid could have flown away on glittered fairy wings.

And then you're crawling back into bed, takeout long forgotten, any hunger you had satisfied in a different way than you expected. Somehow there's comfort in the wet patch you curl yourself around. Cupid Joel is gone from your house, but there are still traces of him here. The cum on the sheets, the ache between your legs and, as you reach to turn the light off and let darkness take you, the butt plug on your bedside table. Between the Christmas decorations stashed in a box in your closet and this plug, you were slowly amassing pieces of a man you didn't really know - gifts from a stranger that made you feel more at home in this place you'd moved to than anything else had managed to in ten months.

Tracing the outline of the heart with your finger, you stretch and snuggle back down into bed, letting exhaustion take hold and when you dream, you dream of flying.

next part

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[gureumz]

oh, you're the girl?

like a freak, like a g [installment 2]

rating: explicit

member: heeseung

premise: news travels fast in the frat house. and so do your bedroom noises, apparently. if you wanna sleep your way through the frat, it might be best to keep it down. or don't.

notes: fem!reader, greek life!au, university!au, dom!heeseung, unprotected sex, dirty talk, degradation, breeding, slight begging, mentions of stealing reader from jake, mentions of drugs

a/n: second installment of the 'sleeping around the frat house' series! and so the drama begins. don't worry if jake's installment is shorter than this, he will be coming back in the future installments heh. in the meantime, enjoy your stay with heeseung ;) *divider by cafekitsune

it's fucking horrendous how much the frat house reeks of weed tonight. you're surprised cops aren't banging the door down at this very moment as you're sure the stench has at least a 1-kilometer radius from its point of origin.

the music rings loud in your ears as you shuffle through the crowd of people hollering at the beer pong game in the living room. you bite your tongue when you feel a girl jam her elbow into your side, not even an apology or at least an apologetic glance given your way.

you sigh, trudging on, eyes scanning the faces of the people around you.

jake did say there was going to be a party tonight and that you're welcome to seek refuge in his room while people rage downstairs. but you have needs and one of those is food, and while you would prefer to not have the smell of cannabis sticking to your clothes, you are hungry. the last meal you had was the lunch jake ordered for the two of you nearly twelve hours ago.

you vaguely remember jake getting up to shower roughly an hour after the two of you finished what must have been your third round. that's when he told you about the party. you hummed dismissively, planning to leave even before the party starts.

but apparently, jake must have fucked you real good, because you knocked out for hours after you drifted off to sleep at the sound of jake's soft humming in the shower.

so here you are, scouring the party for your technically-not-boyfriend, wanting nothing more than to see a familiar face.

you reach the kitchen. no jake.

you peek through the window to look at the front yard. still no sign of jake.

you stumble out into the backyard and see that of course, it's a pool party, with about fifteen people crowding inside the water, spilling beer everywhere. because drunk and high college students around bodies of water are totally safe and fine.

you're about to storm back inside the house when you feel a warm presence materialize behind you.

you squeak in surprise when you find yourself face to face with one of jake's friends, his broad frame seemingly shrinking you in comparison as he eyes you down. you've seen him a few times before as his room is next to jake's. but you cannot for the life of you remember his name.

"are you okay?" he asks. his voice is smooth and clear, indicating that he's probably not as inebriated as everyone else.

"yeah, i'm just looking for jake," you explain. "you don't happen to know where he is, do you?"

the friend smiles, eyes flicking up and down briefly over your body.

"oh, you're that girl. the one jake fucks around with," he says, as if stating a well-known fact and not a semi-personal detail of your life.

your cheeks heat up as you nervously glance around to see if anyone's close enough to overhear.

jake's friend laughs, nudging your arm playfully.

"i don't know how to tell you this but there's no point in keeping it a secret. everyone in the house is well-acquainted with your...noises," he says, winking.

you huff, crossing your arms over your chest.

"yeah, well, do you know where jake is?" you press on, trying to steer the conversation elsewhere.

"he's off buying more booze," the friend states. "he just left, actually."

a twinge of annoyance tugs at your chest. he leaves you in his room and not even a text to tell you where he's going?

"you can stay with me for a bit," the friend offers. you study his face and he smiles, raising his eyebrows expectantly.

"we can crash in my room," he adds, thumb jerking upward towards the direction of the house's second story.

you sigh, the beginnings of a headache creeping up behind your eyes.

"sure, yeah, i guess."

he smiles holding his hand out to you. you take it and let him lead you through the party. as you exit the kitchen and re-enter the living room, it seems as if the number of people have doubled, jostling you about and nearly knocking you off your feet. you feel jake's friend wrap an arm protectively around your waist, tugging you along towards the stairs.

he doesn't let go until you're right in front of his door.

the name 'heeseung' is spelled out in those small felt letters, the ones used for scrapbooking, stuck smack dab in the middle of the door.

'cute,' you think as you chuckle quietly to yourself.

"what's so funny?" heeseung asks, a playful look on his face. he swings the door open and motions for you to enter.

you shake your head. "nothing. the name on the door is just very middle school."

heeseung laughs, following you as you step inside the dimly lit room. a sunset lamp is turned on in the corner, casting faint shades of yellow, orange, and hints of purple and pink on the walls.

"it helps when the others drunkenly drag girls up here during these parties," heeseung explains. "you'd be surprised at how they forget which room is even theirs when they've had enough to drink."

you giggle, plopping yourself down on heeseung's bed.

"wait—are you the one that i'm hearing about lately? the girl that's trying to sleep her way around the frat?"

your smile fades as you remember the conversation you've had a week ago with jake. or more appropriately, the challenge jake sprung up on you that you so recklessly accepted.

"uh...," you begin, avoiding heeseung's eyes.

"yeah," you finish simply, shrugging. what else is there to say?

heeseung grins, clearly amused. he keeps his eyes on you as he empties his jean pockets of things, setting them down on his desk. keys, a wallet, a square foil wrapper—oh, wait—two square foil wrappers and—

"why do you have so many condoms?" you ask in mild disbelief.

"i'm director of operations, which just means i manage the house and make sure no one comes home one day with a baby," heeseung rattles off, picking up one of the condoms and brandishing it at you.

"hence, the condoms."

he points to a drawer in his desk. "there are two more boxes there. no frat babies on my watch."

you afford yourself a laugh. heeseung smiles along, stretching his lithe body out. your eyes observe the shift of his muscles under his shirt, the curve of his ass in his jeans, and the way his hair falls messily into his eyes.

heeseung groans in satisfaction and you rip your eyes away from his pecs.

"so, director of operations...," you say, raising a brow at heeseung.

"ah, jake did mention you were narrowing your, er, conquest to the executive committee," heeseung muses as he makes his way to you.

you crane your neck up at him and from this angle, you can easily lean forward, undo his belt, unbutton his pants, and—

"that's five more people to go through, including me," heeseung says with a grin. "you sure you can handle that?"

you scoff, shaking your head. "i really hate it when people underestimate me."

"i'm not underestimating you, sweetheart," heeseung denies, holding his hands up as if in apology. "i'm just wondering if you know what you're getting into."

you cock your head to the side, eyebrows knit together.

"jake might be willing to share, but the others?" heeseung stops there, whistling lowly.

you think about it for a moment. six guys, some you haven't even met yet. unknown kinks and fantasies. uncharted territories. he's right. what have you gotten yourself into?

"also, just a side note, we get tested every three months," heeseung says, pulling you out of your thoughts. "it's an initiative i started. we just had our last test the other week and everyone was clean."

you nod along, admittedly impressed.

"you're very efficient as the director of operations, heeseung," you compliment. a bashful smile spreads on his lips.

"thank you," he says, shoving his hands in his pockets.

"i'm efficient in a lot of other things, too."

you swallow. you can see where this is going. you know heeseung locked the door earlier, and the show of condoms wasn't an accident, either. it's dark in this room but you know the look in heeseung's eyes.

your first actual conquest in your mission to see if you could sleep your way through the frat.

"really?" you ask, trying to stretch out the inevitable limbo, the in-between, the not-knowing of whether you're permitted to move to the next level.

"and what might those other things be?" you add.

heeseung laughs, sounding exasperated. he leans down and you back up, scooting further up his bed. heeseung plants one knee on the mattress, his arms on either side of your legs. he's not trapping you in. not yet, at least.

at this point, it's anyone's game.

"baby, let's just do what we came here to do."

that easy, huh?

turns out yes, it's that easy. because your legs are parting and heeseung is sinking between them, one hand reaching out to hold your face steady. his other arm braces against the headboard as he finally cages you in between the wall and his broad frame.

heeseung kisses you, rough and spontaneous and intense. you groan against his lips, your hands laying gently on his neck. you can feel his pulse and his heart is absolutely racing.

"come here," heeseung mutters, pulling you forward. he pulls you over himself as he sits back, your legs on either side of his thighs as you straddle him.

"say 'red' if you want to stop, okay?" heeseung whispers, a hand smoothing up your back.

you nod, perching yourself on heeseung's lap, resuming your assault on his lips. you bite down gently on his lower lip and he moans, nails digging into your sides.

you're about to lose your damn mind.

"fuck," you whisper as you feel heeseung roll his hips up against your core. he smirks, his mouth working its way down from your jaw to your neck.

"don't hold back on me now, baby," heesueng coos. he pulls back and looks at you, tucking your hair behind your ear. "i hear you every time you're next door in jake's room. wanna hear you do the same for me."

you bite your lip, your whole body heating up now that you're confronted with just how loud you are.

"come on," heeseung urges, pushing your shirt over your chest. you wordlessly put your hands up, letting heeseung tug the garment off you.

heeseung reaches behind you and snaps your bra open in a second. you shiver as you feel him pull your bra off.

he must have done this a thousand times before.

you let out a breath as heeseung dips his head, lips capturing one of your nipples in his mouth. his hair tickles at your chin and you can smell the faint scent of his shampoo. you smooth your fingers through his silver locks, tugging lightly when you feel him bite down.

"i'm not hearing you," heesueng mumbles between your mounds, leaving open-mouthed kisses on your skin. his fingers reach for your other nipple and he pinches down, hard.

that's when you let out a shriek of surprise, grip tightening in heeseung's hair. he hums, sucking on one spot right in the middle of your sternum.

no low necklines for you any time soon. or maybe you'll wear them, anyway. see what jake has to say about the hickey his friend left on you.

heeseung slides you off him, guiding you down onto his bed. he taps your hip.

"off," he says curtly, referring to your jeans. heeseung pulls back and gives you the space to tug off your pants, his own hands frantically pulling off his own clothing.

a minute later, the two of you are left in nothing but your underwear.

heeseung takes ahold of your thighs, spreading your legs wider. you hear him breathe in as he eyes your core.

"you're such a nasty whore," heeseung says abruptly, his hand coming down to slap your pussy. you gasp, lurching forward in surprise.

heeseung presses a hand on your stomach, applying the smallest amount of pressure. it's a warning. stay still.

"getting wet at the idea of fucking your boyfriend's friends," heeseung sneers, smacking your sensitive mound again over your panties. you whimper, shaking your head.

"n-not my boyfriend," you sniffle. "he's n-not."

"still," heeseung responds. another loud smack. harder this time.

"what kind of person lets a whole frat house slut them out? a dirty fucking whore, that's what."

you feel tears prickle at your eyes as heeseung lands a few more slaps on your aching pussy. you're drenched at this point, making a mess for sure on heeseung's sheets.

heeseung practically yanks your panties off, revealing your glistening cunt. he licks his lips, the pads of his fingers pushing lightly against the relative area of your clit.

your back arches slightly off the bed. your whole body seems to shake of oversensitivity.

heeseung hurriedly discards of his own boxers and your mouth instantly waters as you're greeted with the sight of his cock, long and girthy, tapering off perfectly toward the tip.

heeseung props your legs open, aligning himself with your entrance. your eyes meet and you look at him, confused.

"what happened to your whole 'director of operations and no frat babies under my watch' spiel?" you ask.

heeseung snickers. "i'm a bit of a hypocrite, baby."

he pauses, studying your expression and waiting for you to say something. the safe word. your teeth worry at your bottom lip but you nod.

"go ahead," you whisper.

heeseung nods as well, pressing himself against your leaking entrance. your mouth falls open as heeseung manages to squeeze in half of himself in you. he pauses, planting his hands firmly on your hips. he pushes all the way in, pulling you down on him at the same time.

you both gasp.

"oh fuck," heeseung curses. you clench down on him and he grunts.

heeseung starts to move, and if there's one thing you know about him by now, it's that he wastes no time. he's ramming into you relentlessly after only a minute, your head spinning as your mind tries to catch up with your body.

he feels good stretching you out like this, that's for sure. your pussy squelches each time heeseung pushes in, proof of just how wet you are for him.

you're moaning uncontrollably now, heeseung's hips snapping up against yours. looking at him, his forehead creased, eyes squeezed shut, it dawns on you what you've started.

if all the other guys on the executive committee would look just as good as heeseung does right at this moment, buried to the hilt in your cunt, then maybe you are a nasty whore.

"heeseung, heeseung, heseeung!" you cry out, unable to contain the pleasure coursing through your body.

heeseung leans down to press his lips messily onto yours. tongue and teeth and spit greet you as you kiss him back. you wrap your legs tightly around heeseung's hips and he lets his eyes roll into the back of his head.

"baby, oh god," he says, pressing his forehead against yours.

"you think jake will mind if i cum inside this pussy?" heeseung whispers, his breath ghosting over your face.

you can't help it. you moan out like a cockhungry slut at heeseung's words.

"please," you beg. "need your cum, need it inside me."

heeseung chuckles darkly, pulling away slightly. "you need it? gonna go around and tell my brothers that you need their cum too?"

you shake your head, though you're unsure why you're doing this because you know heeseung's right. maybe at this point, you've truly gone dumb over cock. heeseung's cock.

"no, no," you protest. "n-need your cum now. need it, want it so bad."

heeseung wraps his arms around you, pressing your bodies close together. he buries his face in your neck as he continues to fuck into you shallowly. your belly tightens as your own release approaches. the friction of heeseung's abs against your clit pushing you closer and closer.

"gonna cum," heeseung warns. "gonna cum inside this pussy, god—"

you feel heeseung twitch inside you and a final drag of his toned abdomen over your nub sends you over the edge. you tighten your hold around heeseung as you sob onto his shoulder.

the two of you lay still for a few moments, breathing heavily. you hold each other close for another minute before heeseung pushes himself off you, sweeping his sweaty hair back.

he grins down at you before kissing you lightly.

"i might need to steal you from jake after this," heeseung jokes as he slowly pulls out of you. he grabs a towel hanging off his desk chair, holding it between your legs.

you laugh weakly, your head lolling to one side as you feel exhaustion wash over you.

heeseung plops down beside you, arms automatically winding around your midsection. "you can stay here for tonight."

you hum in contentment, snuggling up to heeseung.

---

jake is frantic as his call is unanswered for the fifth time. where the fuck are you?

the party has mostly died down by now and he thought you probably had gone home. that's when he started calling. two missed calls. no problem. you weren't a phone call type of person, anyway.

he asked everyone who he thought might know you at this party about your whereabouts and if they saw you leave or not, but no one seemed to know where you wandered off.

hence, five more missed calls.

"you alright?"

jake looks up from his phone to see sunoo dragging a plastic bag behind him, halfheartedly picking up stray cups and chucking them into the bag.

"it's ______. she's not answering," jake complains, pressing the 'call' button once more.

"oh her," sunoo says with a knowing smile. "i saw her with heeseung a few hours ago. they haven't gone back down since."

jake pauses, immediately ending the call. he sighs, half wanting to laugh and half wanting to punch himself.

so, it's started. alright, then.

[wannab-urs]

Title: Harsher Than the Bark

Pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader

Summary: Javi makes you feel things you’ve never felt before, will never feel with anyone else, but he can’t – or won’t – love you. 

Tags: smoking, probably shit spanish, smut, angst, fingering, squirting, unprotected PiV, probably unrealistic amount of orgasms (like 4 idk it’s kinda vague, choking/breath play, Javi has dom vibes but it’s not like BDSM he’s just bossy, one “good girl,” begging, religious imagery because Javi makes you see god, biting, that one position from that one scene – you fucking know the one, excessive cursing because it’s me and I refuse to change, Javi is a cuddler, emotionally unavailable!Javi, references to past arguments/past hookups because this has been an ongoing thing and I love to start in the middle of a story. Based on 505 by Arctic Monkeys, (being annoying and posting at 5:05 am) No beta we die like Oberyn WC: 1.4k

A/N: I kind of wrote this in a fever dream, I literally don't even know if it's any good. It's sort of a planned three parter, but I'm not putting pressure on myself to finish it, so each part can stand completely alone. If I write all three, it'll be called In the A.M. as in In the Morning but also because they're all based on Arctic Monkeys songs. Hope you like it &lt;3

Series Masterlist | Javier Peña Masterlist | Main Masterlist | AO3 | Kofi

The knife twists at the thought that I should fall short of the mark Frightened by the bite, though it's no harsher than the bark

Javier Peña is probably the best fuck you’ve ever had in your life. Actually, scratch that. He’s definitely the best fuck you’ve ever had in your life. He makes you feel things you’ve never felt before. Coming three times in one night with him is the absolute bare minimum. He loves it when you scream for him. Does everything in his power to get you a noise complaint from your neighbors. 

And God is he gorgeous. Long and lean with strong arms, broad shoulders, a tiny waist, a perky ass. His nose looks like it was carved off a greek statue and placed on his face. He’s got these big sad brown eyes, full lips framed by a neatly trimmed mustache, and a jawline that could cut glass. You’re probably in love with him. 

You put out your cigarette when you hear the door open, lay back in the bed and stare at the ceiling. It’s five in the morning, but you never turn him away. No matter what time. 

“Shouldn’t leave the door unlocked, hermosa,” Javi’s deep drawl drifts across the room to you. 

“Knew you were coming. Didn’t wanna have to get up.” 

Javi drops his shirt on the floor and crawls up the bed, draping himself over you and pressing a kiss to your lips. “No es seguro, cariño. Anyone could walk in.” (It’s not safe, baby).

“Lo que sea, Javi.” (Whatever, Javi). You roll your eyes at him. “It’s locked now, no?” 

Javi drags his lips along your jaw, nips at your throat, drags a finger through your folds. “Wet already, baby? Were you thinking of me?” 

You were, but you kind of hate him for being right. “Fuck you, Jav–” his name drags out into a moan as he stuffs two thick fingers inside you. He pumps his fingers in and out a couple times before curling them up into the spongy spot inside you. You throw your head back in pleasure, back arching and hips thrusting so that you’re practically riding his fingers. 

He wraps the fingers of his free hand carefully around your throat. “Mírame.” (Look at me). You force your eyes open and he’s so close you could count the individual hairs in his mustache. You look into his eyes with so much adoration, so much love, he has to look away. He squeezes your throat tighter and you close your eyes again as your cunt tightens on his fingers. 

He rubs circles on your clit in time with the thrust of his fingers, feeling you wind tighter and tighter around him. His hand on your throat isn’t blocking air, but you still can’t catch your breath. When your body is so tense it feels like you’ll shatter into a million pieces, he releases the hand on your throat. You gasp in a big breath and fall apart in his hands. He works you through it with firm, slow strokes. 

Just as you feel yourself start to come down, he picks up the pace again. He places the hand that was on your throat on your pelvis, holding you down on the mattress and rubs his thumb in quick, hard circles on your clit. He pumps his fingers into you hard and fast. 

“Come for me, hermosa. Come all over my hand.” 

Your vision whites out and you let out a near agonized scream as you clench around his fingers and gush all over him. Javi pulls his fingers out of you and slips them into your mouth. You suck the taste of yourself off his fingers. 

“Good girl,” he growls in your ear. He stands up, leaving you panting on the bed, and strips his jeans off. He strokes himself as he gets back on the bed, hand still slick with your cum. He pulls your thighs over his and you wrap your legs around him. He drags his cock through your folds and watches you shudder. 

“You’re soaked… You want me to fuck you?” The bastard is teasing you. You whine his name. “Las palabras, cariño.” (Words, baby). 

“Need you, Javi. Please. I need you so bad,” you’re desperate, aching for him. He taps your clit with the head of his cock one more time before lining up with your entrance and pushing in. You let out an absolutely wrecked moan, voice breaking as he bottoms out. 

He leans forward, planting his hands on either side of your head and pulls out before plunging back down inside you. He has your hips tilted almost vertically, driving you down into the mattress with every thrust. You dig your nails into the meat of his shoulders and drag them down his back, making him groan into your neck. 

Fucking Javi is always a religious experience. You find salvation and damnation at once in his arms and you swear you see God himself when you come on his cock. 

Javi doesn’t slow down despite the way you clench around him. He often works out his frustrations in your body, tries to bury them and himself in you. 

He pulls out and flips you over by your hips, sheathing himself inside you the second you’re on your knees in front of him. He fists one hand in your hair and pulls your back to his chest, wrapping the other hand around your breast. 

You lay your head on his shoulder and let the pleasure wash over you, lose yourself in it completely. You only exist in this moment, the pleasure and pain melding to form something divine inside you. He bites down on your neck and you come on his cock again, and you think you scream. You aren’t quite sure. 

Javi groans as he slams into you one, two, three more times and collapses forward onto the bed, trapping you under him. He stays inside you for a few more moments, nuzzling your neck. His lips catch your ear lobe as he pulls himself out of you and falls to the bed beside you. He wraps his arms around you, curling his body around yours, and holds you close. 

You lie in silence for a long time, just listening to each other breathe. This has become routine. Javi has a bad day at work and takes it out on your body in this bed. He never talks about it, about why he needs such a frenzied release, but you can guess. 

Sometimes, though, he’ll talk about growing up in Laredo or about a nice dinner he had with Connie and Steve or about an op that went well. Sometimes he lets you see beneath his hardened exterior. 

The truth is that you’re definitely in love with him. But Javi won’t ever be with you, not in the way you want. Javi won’t commit to being with you because this, what you just did, is all he thinks he deserves and all he knows how to do. He loves making you feel good, takes pride in making you come over and over and over. He loves making you moan and whine and scream for him. He loves it when you tell him how good he feels, how perfect he is, how pretty his cock is. He just doesn’t love you.

He always curls up with you, snuggles you close, clings to you. But if you bring up wanting something more, something defined and committed, he fucking runs. He can give you himself physically, but he can’t let you near his heart because it is rotten and caving in and no good. And you? You are good. He can’t touch you with that. The dark and broken part of himself. He can’t infect your good with his bad.

You know this and yet… 

A tear slips from your lashes, trailing down your cheek and falling onto the arm tucked under your cheek. 

“Cariño, ¿por qué lloras? (Baby, why are you crying?) He sounds… fucking anguished. “¿Te lastimé?” (Did I hurt you?)

“It’s nothing, Jav.” 

Javi sits up, grabs your face in his hands and makes you look at him. “It’s something. Dime.” (Tell me). 

“If I tell you, you’ll just fucking leave again, Javi. I can’t do this right now. Just hold me, please? Be here when I wake up?” 

Javi searches your eyes for a moment. You aren’t sure what he sees there. Heartbreak? Resignation? Desperation? Whatever it is convinces him. 

“Sure, yeah. I can do that.” 

[itsphoenix0724]

Dancing With Shadows (Azriel x Reader)~Chapter 1

Summary: Living your life with a long-distance relationship has never bothered you before, but when you surprise Az with a plane ticket you finally get to see how it works in person.

Warnings: SMUT, phone sex, mutual masturbation?, toys

Word Count: 1.9k

A/N: Bad Phoenix for starting another series while still having an incomplete one. I'm sorry (I'm not)

The morning light is just starting to creep through the gap in your curtains as you roll groggily over to the other side of your mattress. The Facetime call crackles over the end of the receiver as the brightness of your phone blares 7:00 am into your still sensitive eyes. You can hear Azriel vaguely fumbling with something over the other end, followed by a curse and the line quickly muting itself. You laugh silently, opening the camera and calling a good morning. It’s around noon across the ocean, and your slow rainy Saturday seems chaotic for Az already.  

“Did I wake you?” He asks, face now lighting up your phone screen. You’re taken aback by his beauty for a second, hazel eyes boring into you through the camera. He’s wearing a tight compression top, and his black hair is slightly tousled and damp with sweat. He must’ve been working out. 

“No not at all. I heard a crash, are you okay?” you ask, voice still crackly with sleep. A delightful red color sweeps the highs of Azirel’s cheekbones. 

“I dropped a weight.” He supplies and you can see his shoulders move with a shrug. He sets you back down, now propping up the phone so you can watch him continue to lift. Your mouth almost waters, but you manage to reign yourself in. 

“I wish you would wait for Rhys or Cas.” You can’t see Azriel’s eyes while he’s reclined on the bench, but you’re sure they’re rolling at the mention of his roommates. You move about your own apartment, getting ready for the day. Changing into a comfy set of pajamas you settle in to read comfortably on your couch. 

You never minded the distance between the two of you.

Maybe that’s because it’s always been like this. You’d met Azriel on a dating app after you and your friend got wine-drunk one night and you switched the location to London. The two of you matched and it’s been the best six months of your life. He’s been kind, caring, and better than every guy you’d ever met in New York City.

Obviously, you want to be able to kiss and hold your boyfriend, hopefully, soon you can accomplish that. You bought Az a plane ticket so he’ll end up here for a week over Valentine’s Day. You just hope he’s able to make it, you did opt for a cancelable flight just in case he can’t get time off work, but he works in cyber security so he should be able to take it with him if needed.

You’ve finished your book, and Azriel is cooking dinner on his end of the line. The phone propped up against something on his counter, Cassian walks into the kitchen, clapping him on the shoulder before noticing you. 

“There she is!” Cas steals the phone focusing on his face as he greets you with a broad smile. “How are you, princess?” Azriel snatches the phone back, letting a jealous stream of curses spew out of his mouth. 

You can see him glaring at Cassian but as your laugh echoes back his eyes soften. 

“I’m good, how are you.” Cassian gives a noncommittal shrug, stealing a piece of something off the cutting board before calling his goodbyes. 

“He needs to learn to mind his business,” Azriel mutters but shines a bright smile when you laugh again. 

“You’re such a baby.” You reply, still trying to fight laughter down at his pouting. 

“I’m not a baby, I just don’t enjoy when Cassian flirts with you.” Az supplies moving about the kitchen. 

You enjoy watching him cook. 

You shamelessly ogle his back when he turns to the stove, loving the way the fabric of his shirt accentuates his broad shoulders.  He moves like smoke. Gracefully gliding around the kitchen, pulling different spices and chopping different ingredients for some kind of stirfry. 

Azriel being so good with a knife probably shouldn’t turn you on so much. 

He has to hang up the phone to eat dinner with his roommates, so you blow him a kiss as he promises to call you back when he can. This leaves you to get ready for the little surprise you have planned for him. 

You shower, styling your hair to perfection and applying some makeup before changing into the midnight blue lingerie set you picked out for him. You tie a barely-there black robe around yourself, make your bed, and light a few candles around the room to hopefully set the mood. A wicked idea flashes across your mind, so you make your way to the bathroom and slip a shoulder out of the robe snapping a picture quickly and sending it to Azriel’s contact. 

“A little surprise to unwrap later ;)” It says that the message has been read at the bottom of the screen. Dots line the bottom of your screen, and you bite your lip as you await his response, heat coiling in the pit of your stomach already. 

“What’re you trying to do to me, Sweetheart? I practically choked on my dinner” comes his response, and the previous heat turns practically boiling. A second text comes through a second later “I’ll be done in five minutes. Don’t you dare even think about touching yourself. Wait nice and pretty for me okay?” You double-check to make sure all your toys are charged, waiting patiently for Azriel’s Facetime call. 

You can practically feel yourself dripping down your thighs in anticipation.  

He calls four minutes later. Setting your phone up on your dresser you answer strutting over to the edge of the bed so he can see all of you. All you can hear is the sound of Az’s breathing and the lock on his door clicking shut. 

“Take it off,” he practically growls and you play with the tie before you pull it apart and let the black silk pool around you on the bed. “You look absolutely fucking beautiful.” His pupils blow wide as he looks at you feeling like a goddess with his attention. 

“Do you like it?” You tease, fluttering your eyelashes and sending him a sugar-sweet smile. 

“That’s a ridiculous fucking question, I want to devour you.” His voice is like midnight water, ripples feel like they’re caressing down your spine as you shiver. Even now, even over the phone, it thrums through your chest like guitar strings, reverberating and ricocheting around your rapidly beating heart. 

“Tell me what you want me to do Az,” you gasp out, waiting for him to give you some direction, eager to be obedient. Az takes a moment to admire how the blue lace clings to your skin, delicate gemstones glittering like you’d ripped the stars straight out of the sky. 

“Lay back on the bed.” He rumbles, shamefully stealing an eyeful of your ass as you turn to crawl up to your pillows. “And as much as I love this outfit, I need you to take it off. Right Now.” You strip yourself out of the lace set, tossing it onto the carpet. His eyes blow out as he admires your naked form. You hear Az settle himself on his own bed and the sound of his belt unbuckling makes your mouth water. You’ve seen his dick before, obviously, but you wish that you could wrap your mouth around him right now. 

“Are you touching yourself?” You mutter into the quiet, the sound like a bomb exploding around your buzzing anticipation.

“Not yet.” he grinds out. “I’m waiting for you.” his jeans and shirt hit the ground moments later. You eagerly drink in the dark ink you can see swirling around his collarbones.

“I wanna suck you off so bad.” Your brain goes into that empty fuzzy space that only happens when you and Az do something like this. A pained sort of noise falls out of his mouth, a mix between a whimper and a groan. 

“Are you wet for me?” He questions, quirking a dark brow. You hum your difference, shrugging a bare shoulder. “You don’t know? Why don’t you find out for me?” You skate your fingers down your body, gliding them through your center. Your fingers come away slick with your arousal, and you circle your clit once letting out a breathless moan that makes Azriel’s eyes roll.  

“I want you.” You mumble as you continue to toy with yourself and let your mind run wild. Images flash behind your eyelids, thoughts of Az between your thighs and him pounding you into the mattress so hard his hands leave bruises on your hips. 

“Get your vibrator.” He orders and you slip your hand into the drawer of your right nightstand. You find the pink bullet and flick it to the lowest setting. “Run it down your body, slowly.” Following his instructions you drag the toy down your body until you reach your center. You can hear Azriel’s labored breath as he exhibits self-restraint. He wants nothing more right now than to make you cry with pleasure instead of that toy. “Give me a show now, Sweetheart.” He kicks off his underwear, finally palming his rock-hard cock. 

You do exactly as he asks flicking the vibrator up another setting as you finally allow it to touch your clit. You throw your head back with a moan, fisting your other hand in your bed sheets. You imagine it’s his tongue or his fingers. A thousand fantasies flash in your brain as you push down a little harder, hips canting up to meet the toy, grinding yourself into it. Azriel jerks himself, his own fantasies playing on a loop. He keeps his eyes open though, refusing to take his eyes off of you for even one second. 

He doesn’t even think he’s blinked since the moment you answered his phone call. 

“Az, I wanna hear you cum. Please.” You beg, you need to hear him to get yourself there. Azriel bites back a guttural moan, he’s still having trouble wrapping his brain around the fact that you actually want to hear him be loud. He’s been quiet his whole life, not quite used to having someone who never wants him to stop talking. “Please,” you beg again and he snaps letting a whimper escape out of his lips. All of his moans slip out after that. It’s music to your ears as you turn the vibrator up another speed and slip a finger inside of you, curling your fingers so you can barely skim the spot that makes you see white. 

“I’m close,” he promises and that helps you push yourself toward a blazing crescendo right as Az explodes alongside you. You stand on shaking legs and collect your phone from the dresser before slumping back against the pillows. “You’re amazing,” He mutters into his pillow, eyelids drooping in his state of bliss. 

“I bought you a plane ticket.” you can’t control it as you blurt it out. “For over Valentine’s Day…if you want to come.” it tumbles out, suddenly insecure. 

“You what?” Azriel shoots up shock straight, looking at you with wild eyes. “Are you joking?” 

“No, I’m not joking. I’m sorry if it’s too forward–I can cancel it, I should’ve talked to you about it first.” You curse, already pulling up the airport's website to cancel the ticket. 

“Don’t cancel it.” Azriel cuts in, “Of course I want to come. I’ll be there, whatever it takes.”

[pfhwrittes]

hey p this is nobody you know but do you have thoughts about depot mouse seeing something they shouldn't have seen? 😇

hello friend! (who i definitely don't know, no siree) i waffled over this and my search results are now full of dubiously legal activities that i definitely haven't ever seen in practice, not even once mr/ms/mx GCHQ person checking online traffic. (i also got distracted by portakabin set ups, but that's a separate issue.) and then my brain spat this out for the tradieverse.

does it answer the prompt? eh, vaguely. but i hope you'll be pleased with it.

tags/tw: non-sexual semi-nudity, russian pet names (pchelka = little bee, myshka = mouse, milaya = darling/sweetie/dearest), light angst at the end, and a very brief mention of choking.

author's note: barely skimmed for typos and bad grammar as always and a patented (by @/391780) abrupt ending because i couldn't figure out how to end it and it was getting away from me.

at this point, you're certain nikolai thinks it's funny to have you running around after him. flitting from your office to the driver's "lounge" (another portakabin, this time outfitted with a row of lockers, a sagging sofa, a table and set of scattered chairs, and a small kitchenette area), you yank open the door and your waspish comments die on your tongue.

nikolai is leaning against the counter of the kitchenette. in his pants. in just his pants.

unbidden your eyes skate over his broad shoulders, down over a glimmering gold chain that is nestled in thick, dark hair that spreads wildly over his chest to a soft stomach, to land on the tightest pair of black briefs you've ever seen.

"hello, myshka." nik's voice snaps you out of your staring and you feel heat flooding your cheeks as you tear your gaze away from his... underwear to meet his amused brown eyes.

"i, um, i was looking for you." you absolutely do not let your eyes drop below his neck as nik redistributes his weight as he laughs.

"and now you have found me." nik grins, a flash of surprisingly white teeth considering the amount of black tea and cigarettes he imbibes.

"yes, i wanted to - sorry, but why exactly are you in your pants?" you blurt out.

nik shrugs his broad shoulders and you drag your gaze up to look just past his left ear where a damp lock of black hair curls lazily.

"my clothes are wet." he says simply, like that explains everything. it probably does, knowing the very little you do know about nik.

there's a beat of silence where nik continues to grin and you ignore the way your neck and face are blazing with heat.

"right." you clear your throat uncomfortably. "anyway, i need your receipts."

"it's no problem, i've already handed them to farah." nik waves your words off with a lazy flap of his hand.

"yes, it is a problem! you can't just hand your receipts off to the head of the company, nikolai!" you huff irritably and nikolai interrupts you with a loud boisterous laugh.

"ah, pchelka." he sighs fondly, "always so busy running around, you miss what's right in front of your nose."

that brings you up short and you scowl furiously at him. of course he would think that, all he has to worry about to getting from the depot to the job site and back again. he isn't having to chase wayward drivers around for scraps of paper, or answering the phone to a disgruntled jonathan price when he can't get hold of nikolai, or answering emails with the subject line "how much 4 hardcore??" that you hope to god have come from a bot and not some sad, lonely weirdo thinking that a haulage company offers pornography.

the grin on nik's face flickers slightly and you see his eyes are no longer amused, but soft, almost apologetic.

"sweetness, i'm sorry. i didn't mean to imply-"

"it's fine." you interrupt him, your tone has gone flat and professional despite the way frustration burns at your lungs, urging you to unload all of your irritation on the man. "i'll just go ask farah for the receipts."

nik takes a step towards you.

"milaya -"

"no, really nik." you turn away to push at the door, "thank you for your help as always." you shove open the door and stomp across the dirt to the office you share with farah, leaving nik behind you in his underpants.

(later in the afternoon, after you had emailed farah to send you copies of nikolai's receipts, you lean back in your chair and refuse to let your mind drift back to the glittering gold chain resting on nik's collarbone.

and if you do, it's only because you're thinking about wrapping it around your fist to strangle the insufferable man with it, honest. )

[hungermakesmonsters]

Catch Me If You Can

Chapter Eighteen

Plot summary : When your friend interviews for a position at Anvil, you have a chance encounter with Billy Russo. He takes you for coffee and, by the time you’re done, Billy decides he’s anything but done with you.

Pairing : Billy Russo x Reader

Story Rating : R 

Chapter Rating : PG

Warnings : [This is a fic for 18+ only, minors DNI] There's some dark stuff pertaining to an abusive past relationship, attempted murder, and vague details of a car crash. Please check the warnings on each chapter if you choose to follow this story. 

Word Count : ~4.4k

A/N : Set about a week after the last one! I'm honestly a little nervous about this chapter, I hope you like it! As always thanks so much for reading!

CHAPTER ONE | CHAPTER TWO | CHAPTER THREE | CHAPTER FOUR | CHAPTER FIVE | CHAPTER SIX | CHAPTER SEVEN | CHAPTER EIGHT | CHAPTER NINE | CHAPTER TEN | CHAPTER ELEVEN | CHAPTER TWELVE | CHAPTER THIRTEEN | CHAPTER FOURTEEN | CHAPTER FIFTEEN | CHAPTER SIXTEEN | CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Chapter Eighteen

The whole world came crashing down around you in a single moment. 

You didn’t realise until it was too late to stop it, until it was too late to change anything and avoid the inevitable consequences.

The private investigator took the envelope full of cash before sliding the file across the table to you, sparing you one last glance and a couple of words of warning before climbing out of the booth and heading towards the exit. Your gaze followed him out of the diner and onto the street, where he walked past -

Your heart stopped.

Frank.

He had his phone out, pointing right at you through the diner window, a mix of betrayal and disappointment on his face. It took a moment to figure out what was happening, for the penny to finally drop, but when it did, you felt your entire body fill with panic; he thought you were the security threat, the person who’d been digging into anvil over the last couple of months. 

Your heart started to race, knowing that he was going to tell Billy what he thought he’d seen, that he’d seen you paying off the PI who’d been snooping around Anvil. You scrambled out of the booth, almost tripping over your own feet, desperate to get to Frank and fix the situation before it spiralled out of control.

But he was already on the phone by the time you got outside. You kept the file clutched to your chest, holding it against you like a shield as you approached the imposing figure of Frank Castle, stomach knotting as you heard him speak.

“Yeah, Bill, I’ll deal with it,” his eyes fixed on you as you stopped in front of him. 

You waited in silence, for a moment thinking you could just about hear Billy’s voice on the other end of the phone before Frank hung up and dropped his phone into his pocket.

“I’m gonna need you to give me that,” Frank said, holding out his hand, expecting you to hand the file over. 

“I can’t.” Because, despite everything that was happening, you knew one thing for sure; you couldn’t let anyone see the file, couldn’t let them know about your past.

“Y’know, the crazy thing is that I thought Bill was gonna be the one to break your heart, not the other way around,” Frank shook his head.

“You don’t understand -”

“Pretty sure I do,” he interrupted, not willing to listen to your explanations, “you’ve had your PI lookin’ into Anvil and Bill for weeks now, so give it up.”

“No, that’s not -” but you could already tell that he wasn’t going to listen to you, that he’d made up his mind. “I need to see Billy, I have to explain this to him.”

“That’s great ‘cause he’s already waiting at Anvil for you.”

You stared at him for a moment before realising that you had a choice to make - he couldn’t very well bundle you into his car in broad daylight, but you were aware how bad it would look for you if you refused to go with him. You’d just given up every single dollar to your name for the file in your hand and, now, you needed to make sure that it hadn’t all been for nothing.

“Okay,” you relented, “take me to Billy.”

Frank gave a grunt and nodded towards his truck. You followed after him, climbing into the passenger seat and keeping your eyes fixed forward. Once he’d started the engine, you reached for your phone, hastily typing up a message to Karen, wanting to try and explain what was going on before Frank told her.

“Who you texting?” Frank asked suddenly, taking his eyes off the road.

“Karen, I -” he snatched your phone before you could finish, your thumb managing to hit send on the half finished message as he pulled it away from you. “What the fuck?”

“You’re not draggin’ Karen into this shit,” he told you, his eyes returning to the road just in time to keep from running a red light - a sharp stop that caused your anxiety to spike even more, reminding you of the accident years ago. You were so distracted that you only caught the last half of what Frank was saying, “- when Bill’s done with you.”

You didn’t argue, didn’t ask him to repeat himself. You just wanted him to concentrate on the road. So, you remained silent, clutching the file to your chest and watching out the windscreen. The way he drove across the city made your heart race and your chest tighten, practically jumping out of your skin with every screech of brakes or honk of a horn.

And, when you reached Anvil some fifteen minutes later, you were quick to scramble out of the truck, almost gasping for breath.

He gave another grunt, indicating that you should follow him and, stupidly, you did just that. You didn’t realise that anything was wrong until you were in the elevator and realised that you were being taken down to the basement level instead of up to Billy’s office.

“Why aren’t we going to Billy’s office?” You asked, dread already starting to coil in your stomach.

“Bill doesn’t want you in his office,” Frank answered as the doors slid open, revealing a cold and terrifying looking corridor.

“I want my phone back.” You told him, unable to stop the fear from filling your tone.

“Told you, you can have it back when Bill’s done with you,” he motioned for you to start moving and, with no other option, you did.

When the elevator doors slid shut, your thoughts started to spiral to dark places you didn’t want them to go, to memories of feeling trapped and powerless. A lump rose in your throat and tears were already starting to sting your eyes as your footsteps echoed down the long hallway. When Frank stopped and opened a door, you let him usher you inside before you realised your mistake.

The door closed behind you, leaving you trapped and alone in what appeared to be an interrogation room. Had your state of mind been better, you might have realised that the room was used for training new recruits and conducting interviews but, since you were panicking, all you could think was that you were going to be trapped there until you confessed to all of the things you hadn’t done.

You turned back to the door quickly, pulling at the handle. You weren’t surprised to find it locked, but it did nothing to stop the panic that was raging inside of you.

The room had a long metal table and two chairs, one on either side, but you didn’t move to sit. You couldn’t move at all, terror had you rooted in place, your fingers still tightly gripping the file against your chest. There was a camera blinking in the corner of the room and you felt your stomach drop; was Billy watching you right now, could he see the terror on your face? (And, if he could, why wasn’t he coming to help you?)

Minutes passed before Billy stepped into the room. You stayed frozen as he stepped around you and you waited - you waited for him to tell you that this was all some big mistake, that he knew you’d never do the things Frank had accused you of. But it never came. As he took a seat, your eyes closed tight, silently willing yourself to wake up from this nightmare.

Another minute passed in total silence, like he was waiting for you to speak first and dig your own grave, but you couldn’t even look at him, much less form the words you needed to explain all of this to him.

“Just give me the file,” he finally said.

“I can’t,” you shook your head, eyes still closed tight.

“Who are you working for?” There was something cold in his voice, something broken and full of pain and, despite everything he was putting you thought, some part of you longed to comfort him.

“No one, I’m not -”

“Don’t lie to me!” The sound of his open palm hitting the surface of the table caused you to flinch, your eyes opening as you took a step back and pressed yourself against the wall, needing to put as much distance between you and Billy as possible. “You paid someone to look into Anvil, into me.”

“No, that’s not what happened! You don’t understand -”

“What were you after; finances? Mission details? How much were you getting paid?” His tone got sharper with every word.

“I wasn’t after anything, that’s not what this is. It’s not about Anvil -” you tried desperately still, somehow, holding onto some small glimmer of hope that you could fix things before they got too broken.

 “Bullshit!”

“Please, Billy,” you struggled to find the words in your panic, “you promised that you’d trust me, that you’d -”

“I did trust you!”

His use of the past tense caused something to break inside of you, and you felt a sort of pain that you hadn’t felt in years, the sort of pain that could only be inflicted by someone you loved.

“Stop, please, Billy just -” you tried again, blinking back tears.

Everything was falling apart around you, the future you’d let yourself hope for was slipping away; you were going to move in with him, you were going to go work for The Bulletin, and you were finally going to start rebuilding your life after so many years of just existing and scraping a living. All your dreams were dying all at once, all because he wouldn’t listen to you, because he couldn’t trust you.

Some part of you knew that if you could just find the words, you’d be able to make him understand, but your panicked, racing mind couldn’t focus enough to say or do anything to help fix things.

“How long?” He asked coldly, ignoring your tears. “How long have you been lying to me, using me?”

“I wasn’t lying! Why won’t you listen to me? Why can’t you trust me?” You heard yourself begging desperately.

“Because you’ve been lying to me for months!” His voice got louder, sharper, and you no longer recognised the man in front of you. This wasn’t your Billy, this was someone else entirely. “You know, you really had me fooled, pretending to be this wounded little thing, acting like you wanted me, like we had something.”

“It wasn’t an act!” You managed to raise your voice to match him, desperate to make him listen, to convince him that you still cared, but Billy didn’t even seem to hear it. “Please, just - just let me explain. I can explain this.”

“Explain what? That none of this was real? That you tricked me into wanting you so you could get close enough to stab me in the back? Did you get paid extra to fuck me or was jumping into my bed just part of the game for you?” You could still hear the pain in his tone, but the moment Billy said those words to you, something inside of you snapped.

Your stomach continued to tie itself in knots. You hated every little thing about this, hated how he thought you were as bad as all of the other people who had used him and lied to him to get what they wanted. But your pain quickly started to turn to anger - he wasn’t the only one who’d ever been hurt, he wasn’t the only one who’d been lied to and used. As hurt as Billy obviously was by this whole situation, he’d broken his promises to you; he wouldn’t listen, wouldn’t hear you out, wouldn’t trust you.

You were being blamed for something you hadn’t done and you were going to lose everything because of it. Again.

“You think I jumped into bed with you?” Your tone turned sharper, colder, and more certain - because, in all of this, if you were certain of one thing, it was that you did not just jump into bed with him. Finally you had his attention, just in time for you to tell him; “falling in love with you is the hardest thing I’ve ever done, Billy. And you’ve just managed to prove why it was such a stupid idea.”

It was the first time you’d dared utter that you loved him aloud, but you were no longer scared of how he was going to react to the revelation or how vulnerable it would make you feel. It was too late to care about any of that. You’d come to Anvil hoping to save things with Billy but that dream was now over. 

And, for the first time since all of this began, you realised that the truth of your past couldn’t hurt you anymore. It didn’t matter if Billy knew because he’d already given up on you, whatever was between you was over now, and everything you’d done to try and preserve it had been for nothing.

“Fine,” you relented, forcing yourself to step away from the wall and towards the table. Once you were close enough you slammed the file down in front of him so hard that its contents spilled out across the table; photographs of you, notes about your work, your friends and your finances. 

Billy’s eyes dropped, quickly looking over it, starting to move things, rummaging through the paperwork, trying to make sense of it.

“It was never about you or Anvil. He was looking for me. And I just spent every penny I had paying him off so I wouldn’t have to leave New York, so I wouldn’t have to leave you. But I guess the jokes on me, because you don’t even care enough to keep your promises to me and just listen for five fucking minutes.” By the time you’d finished, you had to cover your mouth to try and suppress the sobs that were desperate to escape you.

Billy stayed silent, rifling through the pages and photographs in front of him, seeming to become more frantic with every passing second as he looked for something, anything, to prove that he hadn’t just destroyed your relationship for nothing.

You watched him for a second, knowing exactly what he’d find in the file, and knowing the questions he’d inevitably have for you when he found the details of your sister's death, and the car crash that had left you scarred. But it was too late for any of that now, he’d lost any right to ask anything about your past.

Moving back to the door, you gave the handle a sharp tug, even though you were pretty certain that the door was still locked.

“Wait -” his broken tone caused you to bristle. Where once you would have felt compassion, you now only felt anger.

“Let me out.”

“I don’t understand,” he told you, as he got to his feet and started to move towards you, his expression one of confusion instead of anger. You held up a hand, wanting him to keep his distance and Billy stopped. In his hand he was holding a copy of the photograph that he’d seen on your bedside table all those weeks ago, the photo of you and your siblings as children. “Please, help me understand this. I want to understand.”

“Which part, Billy? The part where you refused to listen, when you wouldn’t hear me out, when you wouldn’t trust me like you promised?” A hand scrubbed at your cheek, desperately trying to wipe away your tears, not wanting him to see just how much he’d wounded you. “Or the part where you thought so little of me that you thought I was fucking you just to get information on your company?”

“I didn’t know, I -”

“You wouldn’t let me explain!” You yelled and it was Billy’s turn to flinch at your tone. “I gave up everything I had to get that file, and now it doesn’t even matter. None of this matters anymore.”

“It matters, it -” he tried, obviously struggling for words, “- why didn’t you tell me?

“Why didn’t you believe me?” you threw back at him. ”Why is it so hard for you to trust me? Do you even trust anyone?”

“I’m sorry, I never -”

“Just - just stop. It’s too late.” You shook your head. It hurt too much and every word, every plea that left him only made the ache in your chest feel worse. “You promised me that you’d listen. I trusted you and you ruined it. You’ve ruined us.” 

“No... don’t say that. Please, don’t say that.” His voice continued to crack and break, and it was almost enough to make you want to back down, but you knew you couldn’t. Not after this. He’d broken his promise to you and left you feeling more wounded and alone than you’d ever felt. “I’m sorry, let me fix this, sweetheart, please.”

“Fix this?” You almost managed to laugh through the tears. “There is no fixing this, Billy. You’ve ruined it. You broke my heart.”

“No, no... please, I -” for a moment he looked at you like those three little words were on the tip of his tongue, like he was ready to confess his love, but you didn’t want to hear it.

“Just stop. You don’t get to fight for me, Billy. Not now. Not after this.” You told him angrily. “I told you I couldn’t do this if you didn’t trust me.”

“You said you fell in love with me,” the words came out so softly that you almost didn’t hear them.

You could see the thinly masked distress on his face, the pain and misery that you’d managed to cause with that one, silly admission. You hated yourself for blurting it out like that, like you were some character in a soap opera or some shitty romance novel. And, if he’d been anyone else, you might have been angrier at his obliviousness to your feelings - of course you’d fallen in love with him, it had been so fucking obvious - but Billy had always been honest with you; he didn’t know love, didn’t understand it. All the people who were supposed to love him and abandoned him.

But not you. That was not what this was. You weren’t abandoning him, he’s pushed you to breaking point. This time it was Billy’s fault.

“What did you think was gonna happen?” You dared to ask, not even bothering to try and hide your pain anymore. “I’m not like you, Billy, I can’t just turn off my emotions whenever things get difficult.”

“You love me?” He took a step closer, the look on his face suggesting that he still thought that there was some way that he could fix things.

“It doesn’t matter anymore.”

“It matters to me, please, I -”

The door opened and, before he could finish that thought, you were rushing back out into the hallway, trying to put as much distance between yourself and Billy as possible. He followed after, your name dying on his lips when he saw Karen and Frank standing there.

“Sorry, Bill, she -” Frank started, looking at Karen who was now holding your phone.

“You’re both assholes,” she stated and neither man dared argue with her. Obviously, thankfully, she’d managed to figure out what was going on and where you were just from the half of a text message that you’d managed to send before Frank had confiscated your phone. 

Her arm quickly pulled around your shoulders and she started to lead you towards the elevator while you tried to choke back tears. You didn’t dare look back until you were in the elevator; Billy looked heartbroken, following after you but keeping his distance.

“Please, I -” he tried.

“You’ve done enough, Billy. Just leave her alone.” Karen snapped as the doors slid shut and, a moment later, the floodgates opened and you started to sob uncontrollably, knowing that you’d lost everything.

TWO HOURS EARLIER.

Your heart was racing, thumping out a painful and uneven beat in your chest.

When Karen had told you that a private investigator had been asking around about you at The Bulletin, you’d put things together pretty quickly. You had her set up a meeting later that morning for you, hoping that you could fix things before they got out of control, even though your every instinct told you to pack a bag and get out of New York as quickly as you could.

You didn’t want to have to run, you didn’t want to leave the life that you were starting to build in the city. You didn’t want to leave the man that you loved.

Before heading to the diner to meet the PI, you stopped at the bank, withdrawing every penny that had, hoping that it would be enough, hoping that you could pay him off and fix everything before things spun out of control.

He was already waiting in the diner when you arrived, sitting in a booth by the window; a grizzled looking guy, well into his forties, who’d obviously been in the PI game for decades. As you slid into the seat opposite him, you felt your guts start to twist with a mix of anxiety and fear.

“If I’d known that this was the quickest way to get you out of hiding, I’d’ve done it weeks ago,” he stated before you’d even gotten comfortable. “I take it you wanted to meet to make me an offer?”

You took a breath, trying to steady your still-racing heart. “How much would it cost for you to go back to Florida and pretend you couldn’t find me?”

He almost seemed shocked that you knew where he was from for a second, but it was quickly hidden behind a lazy sort of smile.

“More than you’ve got,” he stated and your heart sank. “I’m a little surprised that you don’t seem surprised by any of this.”

“I’m not,” you offered, already feeling like you were wasting your time. “I knew it was only a matter of time before Scott started looking for me. Did he tell you why - did he tell you why he wants to find me?”

“No, and I didn’t bother to ask - usually don’t when the money’s this good.” He shrugged before sitting forward in his seat. “Go on then; what’d you do to this guy? I figured you either broke his heart or you took something of his. Must’ve been something big for you to spend these last few years running all up and down the country.”

“I didn’t do anything,” you voice cracked at how helpless you suddenly felt, “He tried to kill me, and that’s probably why he wants me back.”

That seemed to unsettle the PI and you decided to use it to your advantage.

“I take it you know about the accident?” You asked and the PI gave an awkward sort of nod, not knowing what point you were going to try to make. “It wasn’t an accident, he deliberately swerved the car off the road because I’d finally told him that I was leaving him.” Your voice continued to crack, threatening to break. “He pulled himself out of the car and left me there to die. I had to crawl through fire and broken glass to save myself,” you rolled up your sleeve, letting him see the scars, along with the sickening S that Scott had carved into your skin. “That’s why he wants to know where I am. He wants to finish the job.”

The PI let out a slow exhale and it was more than obvious from the way he shifted in his seat that he hadn’t been expecting that story, that he’d been lied to and used by Scott.

A trembling hand wiped at your eye, you were determined not to cry despite everything you’d just been forced to reveal.

“Look, I feel for you, but this is a big payday and -”

You reached into your purse and quickly placed the envelope on the table between you.

“That’s everything I have,” you told him, sniffing back tears, “you can have it all, just - please, give me the file and don’t tell him I’m here. I just want to be able to live my life. I don’t want to have to start over again.”

“You’d leave that rich boyfriend of yours?” He asked, like he almost didn’t believe what you were trying to tell him.

“If I had to. But I don’t want to. Scott has already stolen years of my life, please don’t help him take more. There’s just over fifteen grand in that envelope, I know it’s not a lot but -”

Your heart threatened to stop as he picked up the envelope and started thumbing through the stack of notes inside.

“This is everything you’ve got,” he stated with the certainty of someone who’d looked into your accounts. “You’re willing to give up everything just to make sure this guy doesn’t find you?”

“Yes...”

The moment that followed seemed to linger for an eternity; him looking at you like he was trying to decide what to do, while you stared back, silently praying to any god that might listen to you. 

There was no holding back the relieved sob that slipped from you when he finally put the envelope in his pocket and slid the file across the table to you.

“I’ll tell him I lost track of you after the six months you spent in Chicago.”

“Thank you.

He gave something of a grumble as he started to pull his coat on and got to his feet, ready to walk away, but something made him stop. “Y’know, that boyfriend of yours isn’t as squeaky clean as you think. I’d be careful if I were you - and, maybe, you should ask him where his mother is.”

He didn’t give you the chance to ask what he meant, before he turned and left the diner, your gaze following him out the door and onto the street, watching as walked right past Frank Castle, who was holding his phone and photographing the entire exchange. 

Chapter Nineteen

END NOTES : Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhh ok so this is probably the chapter than I've been most nervous about so I hope people enjoy the drama and angst! I know this probably wasn't what people were expecting from this chapter, but I won't say too much because I don't want to spoil anything for future chapters.

As always thanks so much for reading and sticking with this, it really does mean the world to me!

If you want adding/removing from the tag list let me know (I know it’s not working for everyone - if it’s not working and you don’t want to miss a chapter, I post every Friday around 7:30pm gmt)

TAG LIST

@lincerad @sweetserendipity65 @rafaelakelley  @slayerofthevampire 

@rensolodriver @lovelydoveval  @doloreschanal @damagelove @danzer8705  @unlikelystarlightcowboy @schlotzshewrote @bisexualbith  @uncontainedsmiles  @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes  @lilliesofmay @billyrussoslut @readingabouthim @arwensloanebarnes @scarlettrikstr

[strayflowersstarsandlove]

Baby are you drooling? (hanjisung)

Maybe if you looked away just in time he wouldn't notice. If you turned away with a quick snap of your neck he wouldn't realise you were ogling him like some maniac, nevermind the sound of your neck snapping from the fast movement. "Baby are you drooling?". Shit.

Jisung comes up to you with wide eyes and a not so much as a satisfied smirk but a genuinely surprised smile at your flustered expression and actual saliva droplets pooling at the sides of your mouth and beneath your bottom lip. You had seen him topless countless times, not even just in a sexual context too, it was just that your boyfriend would randomly walk around his apartment or yours with his shirt off just because.

This time was no different. He had just walked out of the shower and walked in your room, an off white colored towel wrapped tightly around his waist and another one he was using to dry his hair as he caught you staring at him in a slight trance. He was just so good looking you couldn't help it, no matter how many times you'd see him shirtless it hit you every time like the first one: abs. For days. An immaculate, perfectly toned, round, firm and sculpted broad chest. Abs. Biceps and triceps and fucking everything - ceps. Abs. Truly, you loved everything and anything about him and still couldn't quite grasp just how on earth you managed to pull someone like him, whose body proportions were absolutely perfect. It almost made you envious, what a perfect body he had.

"Are you still there? Earth to y/n? Baby? Babe? Hellooo?". Jisung quickly snaps his fingers in your face, trying to shake you from your trance like state, succeeding after a few tries, "yah! Sorry!! I'm sorry! I was kinda mesmerized there for a second!", you admit abashed, pointing vaguely to his torso and he chuckles, leaning in to peck your lips, "you are so cute", he breathes out, his voice a little raspy before he kisses you once or twice, "you're also pretty good at making me flustered, usually. I'm glad I could finally beat you to that", he adds then, chuckling at your still dazed state, "you know what you could also beat me to? A nice work out session".

Jisung stops rubbing the towel in his hair at that and looks at you half stunned half suspiciously for you never once mentioned ever doing any physical excersice ever since you started dating, "a work out session?" he repeats uncertain, hair falling in his face, eyebrows knitting in that confused cartoon like expression, "yeah! Or multiple ones! Maybe I should just come along with you and Channie and Binnie whenever you guys go to the gym, I mean if that's alright with you, I wouldn't want to impose",you offer, shrugging, and Jisung just nods at that, a still unsure expression plastered all over his face.

"Sure, you are welcome to come anytime you want and I can even ask Changbin hyung to come up with a structured work out plan for you if you'd like but … May I just ask why? Why do you suddenly want to start exercising? Have you been feeling unwell? Have you been feeling sick more frequently? I honestly don't even remember the last time you caught a cold", he asks all at once, making you giggle and shake your head no, "I'm fine! I'm absolutely fine. I just want to have nice abs like you, that's all! I'm okay with my weight I guess, I just wish I didn't have all these rolls", you admit frowning, pulling up your shirt to reveal the soft skin rolls barely overlapping on your tummy, poking at them with a disgusted look on your face.

At least until your boyfriend squats your hands away and falls on his knees right in front of you, grasping your sides very firmly, peppering kisses all over your tummy, "don't you dare do anything to my little pouch! This is mine, my pillow, my softest comfiest head rest, my belly to put babies in, my treasure!!", he exclaims dramatically, holding on to you so tight when you actually burst into laughs you can barely move from his grip and the shakes reverberate through his arms too.

"Hahaha babe, it's okay I just want to be healthier", you try and reassure both him and yourself, seeing how much of a reaction you elicited in him, "but you are healthy! You're so healthy! You have more stamina than I do most days and you always go on walks and never fall ill to anything, you're so so healthy!", he insists, looking at you with the biggest eyes, still not letting go of you, "then why do I have all this excess skin, mmh? Why do I have to physically tuck my belly in whenever I wear high waisted jeans, why do I look like I have a balloon underneath my shirt after every meal? I'm not sure I'm that healthy".

You frown once again, stubbornly poking at your belly button until Jisung removes your fingers from there and clasps them tightly in his hands: "you are healthy. Period. I might not had the chance to go to regular school when I was younger but I did graduate! I know organs need space! That is NOT excess skin that is a very normal amount of skin protecting your stomach and your intestines and allowing them to sit comfortably in there! You get bloated after you eat cause you mostly eat at work in very short breaks and don't have enough time to fully recover and digest! My brother's girlfriend went trough the same, the minute she started working from home and drinking more water and go on little walks shortly after her meals her tummy stopped bloating! Worked like magic".

As soon as he stops talking you do actually realise he might just be right: you do indeed always eat rather quickly at work, inhaling your food along with so much air while never leaving your desk, busying yourself with work even when you're supposed to take a breather and enjoy your break. You never really paid that much attention to it before, you only started noticing your inflated tummy and the way it made you feel insecure in your tighter clothes.

"Okay. You're right, you're actually very right about that. But.. I would like to have a little contouring here, just cause it looks so nice on you and maybe I can try and work out a little during my lunch break so I can train myself in taking better care of myself and do something other than work while I eat, and maybe also help my digestion along the way. I could like eat something lighter before work, have a little upper body session in the break room and then eat my lunch calmly, AWAY from my computer".

Jisung smiles so broadly at you and pecks your lips over and over, "that's my reasonable baby! If you still want to come along to the gym to learn a few new techniques, you absolutely can! Though I will ask you to work out away from me, you can enjoy your session with Chan and Changbin hyung", he adds, finally letting go of your fingers only for his hands to now roam free underneath your shirt that has hiked up your sides and your belly button, "why? Why can't I work out with you? Or even next to you?", you ask, and now it's you being the really confused one, "because", Jisung kisses your lips quite passionately, gently grazing them with his teeth, "I already know I won't be able to do shit with you around", he mumbles lowly, his mouth finding the sweet spot just beneath your ribcage. 

[melonsodypop]

*the anon who asked about kinks / cries happily in the corner* that was deliciously beautiful, thank you so much! ❤ Actually, if that's okay, maybe... yakuza men and... breeding kink? Tysm <3

EEEEEEEEE ANON YOU'RE WELCOME AND I'M SO HAPPY U ENJOYED IT!! as for ur request ... u r once again speaking my language >:)

yakuza men with breeding kinks !

ꕥ pairing -  kazuma kiryu, goro majima, taiga saejima, shun akiyama, y0!akira nishikiyama, daigo dojima, ryuji goda/afab!reader (all seperate)

ꕥ  tags -  nsfw, minors dni, bullet list headcanons, fem!gendered term used (mother/mama), br33ding/impregnation kink, penetrative s3x, unprotected s3x, multiple rounds/marathon s3x, dirty talk, creampie, mating press, aftercare, petnames (babe, slight angst/vague spoilers (majima), reader wears a skirt (daigo), degradation/rough s3x (ryuji)

ꕥ  a/n - i just realized that its a shame i can't write for ichiban yet (or any other chara from 6 onwards)!! i'm still in the process of playing 5 - i'll try to get to his games soon for all my ichiban likers out there <3 also i probably went a liiitle overboard w some of these,,

ꕥ kazuma kiryu 🐉

honestly, the thought of fathering his own children really never crossed his mind

between haruka, his kids at the orphanage and everything that seems to happen to him all the time, impregnating anybody is just not something he ever pictured himself doing

that is, until he started dating you

seeing how gentle you are with the morning glory kids, how supportive you are of haruka, the way your eyes light up and coo when you guys pass a baby on the streets - it makes kiryu's gut stir in a way that he's totally unfamiliar with

he's able to tamper down the thoughts for a while, but one day after he saw you cradling some random friend's baby in your arms, he just breaks

the second he gets you home he's on you, hardly making it past the entryway before he's needily kissing you up against the wall

usually he's so gentle with you, afraid of hurting you with his immeasurable strength - but right now, he's hungrily grabbing at you, his brow furrowed with the effort of holding back

kiryu can be a little hesitant about asking for what he wants in bed, but when you ask what in the world has gotten into him he looks into your eyes with such an intense fire behind his gaze that it leaves you breathless

"you look so good with a baby in your arms..."

ah, there it is. you've gotten good at picking up what he's feeling without him verbalizing much, so you don't need him to say anything else

he knows that he's absolutely ready to make you the mother of his kids, but he patiently waits until you explicitly tell him that you want him to impregnate you

it's at that moment that he's reaching behind your thighs to lift you up, a low groan leaving him as he rushes you to a bed

kisses and nips at your neck the entire way over, the shape of his arousal already becoming obvious in his grey slacks

his calloused palms knead at your tits, his jaw tightening as he imagines them swollen and dripping with milk - he didn’t even KNOW he could have thoughts like these

folds you in the tightest mating press, your legs slung over his broad shoulders and his forehead pressed into the pillow next to your own head

starts gentle but eventually loses himself at the thought of you round with a kid, his kid, rutting into you like a beast the more you beg and plead for him to fill you up

you swear he's trying to mold your insides to the shape of his cock with how firmly he's pressing down into you, his thick thighs flexing with every thrust he delivers

he thought he was gonna be able to stop after one round, but the way you keened when you felt him shoot ropes of his seed into your womb and the way it started to ooze out of you in globs when he pulls out... yeah, that's not happening

holds you so tightly in his arms once you're both finally satisfied that he's impregnated you, kissing your forehead and whispering sweet nothings to you and feeling a little bad about how rough he was

"you did so good - you're gonna be such a good mother. i promise i'm going to do everything i can to provide for us"

ꕥ goro majima 🐍

pregnancy is... kind of a sensitive topic for him

your entire relationship, he's faithfully used condoms whenever you've had sex - even going so far as sending poor nishida to the convenience store to fetch him more if he runs out mid-lovemaking session

it'll take him a long time to admit it to you, but he's terrified of messing his kid up with his own issues or the commitment of being a present father on top of the things that have happened to him in the past

so it'd take you being his lover for a long time and a lot of serious conversations before he's willing to even breach the mere possibility of getting you pregnant

but when you finally agree to it, the moment he sinks into you raw from behind for the first time, feeling the warmth of your walls hugging his cock and your slick dripping down the length of it and down to his balls without that thin latex barrier... yeah, he's gone

he has to grit his teeth, his good eye screwing shut as he tries not to cum on the spot

which only gets worse when you start moaning and whining for him to start moving

"christ, babe - i'm trying not ta bust immediately, and those pretty noises yer making aren't helpin' a damn bit"

finally calms himself down enough to move, languidly rolling his hips and letting out ragged pants as he savors the feeling of your slick walls wrapped around him trying to milk him dry

with every thrust of his cock deep into you and every pretty whimper you let out, the image of his seed spilling out of you starts to rile him up even worse, his pace becoming hurried and rough

wraps your arms around your waist and leans down so his front is pressed to your back, nuzzling his nose into your neck as he starts to fuck you in earnest

loves the way you twitch and squirm in his grasp, feeling every ridge and vein of his length rubbing against your walls in a way you've never been able to feel before

peppers your neck and cheek with kisses when you plead for him to cum inside - "gonna fill ya up, mama, promise - breed ya 'til ya can't take anymore, gonna fill ya with my kids jus' like ya wanted"

reaches around your bodies to rub at your swollen clit, distantly remembering some dirty magazine that told him that pregnancies are more likely if both parties cum

talks you both through your climaxes until he can't hold on anymore, his entire body shuddering with the hardest orgasm he thinks he's ever experienced, his cock throbbing and pumping a thick load of his cum into your belly

as soon as post-nut clarity sets in, majima has one thought and that it's that he's never fucking you with a condom again if he can help it

in fact, he's just going to have to do it a few more times that night -just to make sure his seed really takes, y'know?

ꕥ taiga saejima 🐅

saejima grew up expecting to be a father, back in the days when he thought he was going to be an elementary school teacher - but after joining the yakuza, he let go of any expectation of being able to have a normal family

he never really breaches the subject of having kids with you, assuming there was an unspoken mutual agreement that you both just had too much going on to think about children

despite this, you can't help but notice how soft the big lug gets around children - his eyes soften at the sight of children walking hand-in-hand with their parents, the way he crouches down to talk softly to crying lost kids on the street, how gently he holds babies when they're handed to him

soon enough, your brain starts to form images of him being the father to your own kids, the thought of him putting a baby in your belly the only thing you can think about

he's laying you down on a bed to fuck you one day, and he feels his gut lurch when you reach down between you to tug the condom on his cock off and press the tip against your entrance

his eyes widen when you shyly ask him if he'd want to have kids with you, the blush on your cheeks and the feeling of his raw tip pressing into your slick folds making his length twitch and his head light

holds your face in his hands as he starts to process what you just said to him, almost wondering if he needs to get his ears checked - "yer serious? ya want my kids? yer not fuckin' with me, are ya?"

you start to backpedal, telling him that you definitely want kids, but you didn't want to pressure him into anything he wasn't ready for

that is, until you feel his large hands grip the back of your thighs and fold you in half, exposing your slick pussy to his eyes

he looks absolutely feral, his breaths shaky, brow furrowed, his pupils blown wide as he tries not to lose it right then and there

"say it again. say you want me to breed this greedy pussy 'til it's pregnant"

as soon as you say yes, he buries himself in your pussy in one thrust, drawing out a pitchy whine from you as you feel his absurdly large dick all the way in your lungs, his tip kissing your cervix

keeps you pinned in a mating press as he brutally fucks you over and over again, his animalistic grunts and groans mixing with the sound of his balls heavy with seed slap against your ass

barely pauses after his first orgasm, his hips stuttering as he shoots rope after rope of his thick cum into your waiting womb with a throaty growl, before he's stirring his hips again

he can't stop himself, his brain muddled with the need to breed and see your tits swell with milk and your stomach grow taut and round

luckily, you're just as willing as he is, prettily pleading for him not to stop and keep feeding your greedy pussy his seed - and he happily obliges, fucking you again and again until you've milked every drop he has to give

you won't be able to walk the next day, or honestly a few days after that - but saejima carries you everywhere around your apartment, taking care of every one of your needs with an affectionate gleam in his eyes and his large hand protectively caressing your belly

mutters "gonna look so beautiful with a kid in ya, sweetheart" as he kisses the top of your head, a stark contrast to how brutally he railed you the night before

ꕥ shun akiyama 💵

yet another dude who never really expected to be a father, nor really thought that he wanted to be

it's not that he doesn't love you, and he's surely financially stable enough to support a kid or two - but man, he can barely take care of himself without being hounded to by somebody else, how could he ever hope to be responsible for raising a whole other human?

between his ex-fiancée dumping him and being homeless for as long as he was, any inkling he ever had of starting a family has just been kinda. erased

he uses protection pretty much any time the two of you have sex, and even when he's run out of condoms and you're both too desperate to pause and run to the nearest convenience store, his pullout game is immaculate, opting to just paint your stomach or ass with his cum

ever perceptive, he can't help but notice the slight disappointment on your face every time he pulls out - and as someone who loves to tease you and find new ways to rile you up, a devious little idea forms in his head for the next time he takes you to bed

he's thrusting up into you while you're in his lap, waiting for the perfect moment between your needy mewls and airy moans to strike

he leans into your ear and whispers lowly, "squeezin' on me so tightly, sweetheart - m'gonna have no choice fill you up if you keep clenching like that"

the rush of satisfaction he gets when he feels your walls tighten around his length and your eyes widen... oh god, he wishes he could do that for the first time over and over again

there's no actual risk of a pregnancy right now, a condom wrapped firmly around his length - but just his words are enough to make your face flush red and whine in embarrassment

he laughs as he cradles the back of your head, his suspicions confirmed - "so you do have a little breeding kink, huh? how cute"

he continues to weaponize it every time he fucks you, taunting you with promises of cumming inside and calling you 'mama' and reveling in the way it makes you whimper and whine

he notices that your whines and pleads for him to fill you up are starting to make him throb too, but he ignores it, the dirty talk only play when he has a condom on

that is, until he runs out of them one day, about to bury himself into you when he hurriedly opens the box and finds it empty, both of you too riled up to stop and go buy more

he thinks he'll be okay fucking you raw, telling himself he'll just pull out like he always does - until he hears your mewls, breathily asking him to fill you up with his seed

between the tears pooling in your eyes, the throb of his cock in response to it, and your pretty begs... ah, fuck it, akiyama thinks as he starts to pump his hips a little faster.

so what if he knocks you up? it's not like he doesn't have the money to give both you and his kid whatever you would want, anyways

plus, it's worth it just to see the blissed-out look on his lover's face after you orgasm together, finally satisfied with the feeling of his warm cum dripping out of your pussy

ꕥ akira nishikiyama 🎏

nishiki's solid in the fact that he's too young to be a dad, wanting to enjoy the freedom of being in his early 20s for a lot longer before he even thinks about fathering any kids

he thinks he much prefers his cum painted somewhere else on your body, marking you as his

but, alas, nishiki is young and dumb and a risktaker, so sometimes he's too worked up to go scramble for a condom before he fucks you and just takes you raw

he's good at pulling out, usually, but god, sometimes your slick pussy just clenches around him so deliciously that the primal part of his brain just wants to spill inside of you

the mere threads of his restraint snap, however, as soon as you respond to his question of where you want his cum with "inside, please"

did he hear you right? inside? god, you had never asked that before, and his hips stutter as his entire body reacts to your mewled plea like your pussy's electrocuting him

"baby, we can't-" he cuts himself off with a gasped moan, the way his cock throbs inside of you and his mind forcing images of your pussy leaking his cum into the edges of his vision testing his shaky resolve

buries his face in your shoulder as his balls draw up, the desire to cum bubbling up in his gut and his abs flexing with the effort of holding himself back

and yet, the images don't stop - your belly growing round, tits swelling with milk, everyone knowing it was him - only him that did that to you

every new thought stokes the possessive fire in him, his bottom lip trembling as he fights himself

what finally does him in is you looking over your shoulder, meeting his wet eyes with your own, pouting so cutely that nishiki thinks he could cry

"nishiki, why'd you stop?" you whimper, your voice so breathy and thick with need that all logic gets thrown out of his head

far be it from nishiki not to give you anything you want - if you want his cum in you, marking your pussy as his and his only, he's more than happy to oblige

you gasp as he starts to thrust into you again, a little faster and harder than he did before, a frustrated growl coming up from his throat as he starts to rub harsh circles onto your clit

"i'll fill you up, babe - gonna mark you as mine, everyone's gonna know that you're mine, yeah?"

his filthy words become nearly incoherent and his hips stutter as he gets closer to cumming, your sopping wet pussy milking him for all he's worth

he'll probably curse himself later if you actually end up knocked up with his baby - but for now, as he takes in the sight of your abused pussy, covered in his cum, he can't bring himself to care, pushing down on your back so it arches and he can enter you from behind again

he'll figure it out later, how to support you and a kid - but for now, he's starting to move inside you again, losing himself in the sounds of his hips slamming against your ass and your incessant moans

ꕥ daigo dojima ⚔️

ever since he was a kid, daigo's been hounded by people telling him that one day, he's going to continue the dojima bloodline, producing an heir with some pretty wife like every dojima before him

for a long time, he honestly resented the responsibility of continuing his father's shitty legacy being thrust onto him

finding somebody to marry and impregnate fell even further down his to-do list when he became chairman - there was just too much to take care of and too many mouths to feed in the tojo clan to even think about adding another in his home

but when you came along, a source of unconditional love and support that saw him as just daigo, not the sixth chairman or even a dojima, well... maybe a kid or two wouldn't be such a bad idea

ever the serious one, daigo's the one to bring up the idea of kids in your relationship first over dinner

he's honestly a little afraid of how you're going to react, but he's determined to accept your answer either way

he's delighted when you tell him that yes, you would want to have kids with him, a soft smile on his lips - he can't help but feel a rush of affection with the affirmation that you wanted to spend the future with him

daigo returns to his meal, satisfied with the progress made - but it's the next thing you say that makes him choke on the steak in his mouth

"so, do you want to get started?"

he sputters and coughs, hastily reaching for a napkin to wipe his lips with

you both were pretty good at communicating directly, it was what made your relationship so strong - but never had you been this blunt

he finally finishes coughing, looking across the table at you. "i beg your pardon?"

"i said, do you want to start trying for a baby," you state, your expression just as determined as before

daigo's not sure if it's how direct you are with your desires or the thought of impregnating you that makes his pants get tight, but either way he abandons his dinner to round the table and crash his lips onto yours

you end up with your front pressed against the nearest wall as daigo slams into you from behind, one hand firmly grasping your hip and the other possessively grasping your breast

both of your half-eaten dinners are forgotten about as the sound of skin smacking against skin fills the dining room

you both were too impatient to even undress properly - his pants are barely unzipped and your skirt is hastily pushed up over your hips, your panties haphazardly moved to the side

he's so worked up, the even-tempered man unable form any coherent thoughts other than making you bear his heirs

"s-shit - gonna cum in this pussy," he pants in your ear, his hand pressing down on your lower stomach and making you feel every inch of him sliding in and out of you. "gonna fill you with my babies, darling-"

after he's made an absolute mess out of both of you, his release stuffed into your pussy and his pants stained with your slick, he snaps your panties back in place so his seed stays inside and guides you back to your seat at the dinner table to finish your meal

"eat up, my dear - you're gonna need the strength," he chuckles, "i'm not done with you yet. not even close"

ꕥ ryuji goda 🐲

ryuji's never really bothered with condoms when it comes to sex with you

sure, he'll pull out if you ask him to, but if he cums inside, he's not even really worried about it

so what if he knocks you up? he has the resources to take care of both you and the little brat, no problem

he plans to be a present dad, too - he may be an asshole, but he knows what it feels like to have a parent abandon you and he'll never be able to call himself a real man if he ever makes his own flesh and blood feel that way

if you ever ask him to cum inside or tell him directly to get you pregnant, his eyes are gonna gleam with a feral hunger and that scar on his lips is gonna twist as he smirks widely

"what a needy ass slut, beggin' for my cum like a bitch in heat," he drawls, palming your tits and pinching your nipples to draw a cry out of you. "ya want my fuckin' kid? i'll give it to ya, doll - i'll give ya as many kids as you fuckin' want"

be prepared for his already rough thrusts to become even more pointed and sharp, the base instinct to breed you making his movements and his noises downright animalistic

his thick arms wrap around your midsection tightly, not letting you move an inch as he fucks you like a fleshlight

ryuji's not shy about letting you know how good fucking you raw feels, either, letting his growls and ragged pants out right next to your ear

one of his large hands grasps your chin and forces you to look at him, his lips hungrily claiming yours as he continues to piston his cock into your wet warmth

he loves the sounds of your pathetic moaning to muffle them for long, parting from you and feeling his balls draw up when he sees just how fucked out you look

"c'mon, doll, d'ya even want my baby?" he sneers, finding your drooling, glassy-eyed expression so hot that you can feel his cock jump inside you. "beg for it, beg for me to knock ya up"

growls out an "that's it, mama" when he's finally satisfied that you really, really do want his seed in your womb, thrusting his cock deeper and harder and surely bruising your cervix

ryuji finally bottoms out in you in a harsh, final thrust that has you squirting all over his length, his sweaty face twisting in a smirk as he pumps rope after rope of his release directly into your womb

when ryuji cums, he cums a lot - you swear that he holds you in place for damn near five minutes as his heavy balls continue to contract and ejaculate their contents into your pussy

"hah - i'll be damned if yer not pregnant after that," ryuji chuckles - he's always been proud of the amount of cum he's able to pump out

an arm wraps around your shoulders and pulling you into his chest as he lays back on the bed. his free hand comes up to rub your belly possessively, his cock still plugged in you so none of his seed escapes

"but if yer not... well, i was plannin' on fuckin' this slutty pussy some more anyways"

[multi-fandoms-posts]

Someday

X Men Masterlist

X Men Masterlist 2

Inspired by my favorite song: "Someday" (Meg Donnelly and Milo Manheim)

It’s a cozy evening on the grounds of Xavier’s School. Erik Lehnsherr and Y/N are walking through the garden, arms wrapped around each other. The stars twinkle in the sky, and there’s an unusual calmness in the air. Y/N hums softly to herself as she walks beside Erik, his arms protectively around her.

Suddenly, Erik stops, pulls Y/N closer, and begins to sing softly:

Erik: "I know it might be crazy, but did you hear the story?"

Y/N looks up at him, surprised but with a gentle smile. She softly sings back:

Y/N: "I think I heard it vaguely…"

Erik smiles, his gaze full of affection, and continues, singing the words with an ease that’s unusual for him:

Erik: "A girl and a mutant…"

Y/N chuckles softly and leans closer into him before singing her line:

Y/N: "Oh, tell me more, boy, sounds like a fantasy…"

They look deeply into each other’s eyes and sing together:

Both: "What could be so wrong with a girl and a mutant?"

Erik holds Y/N even tighter and sings the next line:

Erik: "You're from the perfect paradise, and I'm living on the dark side…"

Y/N gazes at him tenderly and sings back:

Y/N: "Oh, I've got a feeling, if you get to know me…"

Erik smiles lightly, his eyes shining as he continues:

Erik: "Right from the start, you caught my eye, something inside me came to life…"

Y/N sings softly, almost dreamily:

Y/N: "Ooh, I've got a feeling…"

Then they sing together, their voices harmonizing perfectly:

Both: "If you get to know me… Someday…"

Y/N looks into the distance and sings with a hint of hope:

Y/N: "This could be, this could be ordinary…"

Then they join together once more:

Both: "Someday…"

Y/N smiles lovingly at him and sings:

Y/N: "Could we be something extraordinary?"

Erik rests his forehead against hers as they continue singing:

Both: "You and me, side by side, out in the broad daylight… If they laugh, we'll say, 'We're gonna be someday.'"

In the background, far enough away not to be heard, Charles Xavier and Raven Darkholme observe the unusual duet. Raven tilts her head, a curious smile on her lips.

Raven smirks and whispers to Charles, "Tell me, have they taken something I don’t know about?"

Charles, looking equally amused, breaks into a warm laugh.

"I wish it were that simple to explain," he replies, still chuckling. "But no, Raven. That’s just… well, Erik, as you’ve never seen him before."

Raven raises an eyebrow, glancing back at Erik, who is now holding Y/N even closer as they hum softly together.

"Erik Lehnsherr," Raven says with mock seriousness, "the man who can control bridges and tear apart tanks, is singing a duet in the garden. Happily. This is definitely the strangest day of my life."

Charles laughs again and shakes his head lightly. "I admit, it’s unusual. But maybe it’s exactly what we all need."

Raven rolls her eyes and grins broadly. "You realize what this means, right? The next time I’m in the kitchen, and Erik starts singing… there’s really no going back."

Charles smiles, but then grows thoughtful. "Love changes people, Raven. Even someone like Erik."

Raven nudges Charles playfully with her elbow. "I get that. But honestly, I never thought ‘singing Erik’ would be part of that change."

Charles can’t hide the smile on his lips. "Just wait until he starts baking cookies."

Raven bursts out laughing and shakes her head in disbelief. "Erik Lehnsherr, singing and baking cookies? That’ll make history."

She takes one last look at Erik and Y/N, who still seem to be in their own little world, the music they share filling the air.

"Well, as long as they’re happy…," Raven finally says, still slightly amused.

Charles nods, his gaze thoughtful yet warm. "Yes. And if it helps us all find peace, then so be it."

With one last glance at the two, Charles and Raven turn and head back into the building.