#his rings and places it on will's ring finger. will gives him a Look and mike is jus like 0:^) wht

[nezuscribe]

you should be here.

you really shouldn’t be here.

but you were a good friend, maybe too good a friend one would argue, and one of your girls heard about this underground gig (boxing, fighting?) going on and roped you into going.

and knowing you, this was way out of your comfort range. she was shocked you agreed to it, but you were tired of being perceived as the sheltered on and decided to bite the bullet and tag along.

but now you realize that you should’ve just stayed home and rewatched some stupid show.

because this place was giving you all sorts of signals to just get out.

it was in what seemed like a dingy warehouse that could only be accessed through some sketchy alley. you truly have no idea how she found this place and your betting that it wasn’t some ad she told you she saw on someone’s story.

the vast room was barely lit, with only a few lights flickering as they struggled to stay on. you felt like you’d catch an undiscovered disease if you sat anywhere and opted to stand, but that was another issue.

despite how destitute this place seemed to be, it was packed.

there were so many people standing near the ring, everybody yelling praises or shouts of anger as somebody took a punch. you could hear skin hitting skin, could hear the breaking of tissues and bones even from where you were.

your friend dragged you by the arm, seeming as if there was no worry about this place, and it was too late to go back even though the alarms in your head were going off.

fuck, you start thinking, what is this place? what if you bump into someone weird? what if the cops come? what if the location gets leaked? what would happen to you two? what if….

your mind trails off as your friend wiggles her way through an empty spot, bringing the two of you closer to the ring.

you look at the fighters, mouth going dry at the sight.

one of the fighters, the one facing you, seemed bloodied to no return. his eye was black and weeks shut, nose dripping with blood. his face was salted with bruises, his body sagging as the other fighter, the one with his back to you, took another fighting stance.

“he’s who i wanted to see,” bri mutters excitedly, pointing her finger to the fighter with white hair, “i’ve heard he’s really good,”

you nod slowly, looking around in a skittish way. you knew you should’ve said no, but you really cleave no choice but to support her and her dangerous side quests.

he plants another fist to the injured one’s face, making him stumble back as the white haired fighter angles his body sideways, letting you two get a look at his side profile.

he seemed fine, a little bruising on the cheek but nowhere near the damage of the other guy. he must be as good as bri says you guess.

the people around you hoot and holler, pushing you further into on of the poles as you wince in discomfort, your face twisting in pain a little as some of the men behind you push forward with no concept of personal space.

you look over at bri but she’s just as engaged, shouting for the white haired guy to continue beating the other man up in ways that could only be described as primal and very, very illegal.

it’s only a few more minutes before the match is ended and the two fighters are pulled away from each other, the battered one looking like he was one punch away from becoming limp.

the yells around you grow louder and louder, the sound rattling around in your head. you wince, trying to smile for bri as she jumps up and down. you know this is only the beginning of the night and can’t afford to bring the energy down.

the white haired one turns around, raising his hands as he asks for the noise to grow louder, a smile on his face as his bandaged hands curl into fists, one pumped victoriously in the air.

but that’s not what takes you by surprise.

your eyes widen in shock when you see his face, mouth dropping almost comically when you realize this isn’t a random street fighter,

but the nerdy boy who sits next to you in your neuroanatomy class.

and judging by the way gojo looks around until he sees you, the proud smile on his face faltering for a second before his eyes cloud with utter confusion,

he wasn’t expecting to see you here either.

[jamminvroomvroom]

get to work.

LN x leclerc!reader

a sequel of sorts to as sick as it sounds, i loved you first - part 1 - part 2

in which lando starts the life with you that he’s always wanted

hi! me again - obsessed with these two soooo much so best believe i had to write (and will continue to write) more for them! thank you so much for continuing to read my work, ilysm and also huuuuuge shoutout to my brainrot bestie @lavenderlando because i truly could not do any of this without her xoxox lemme know what you think, likes and reblogs are aaaalways so so appreciated!

warnings: 18+!! minors dni!!! this one is kinda filthy hehe. smut, fluff, highkey breeding kink, brief switch!lando and switch!r, unprotected p in v, general sex acts in silly places, charles still having it out for lando lmao, mentions of pregnancy/family planning

7.2k words

you stare up at him, breathless, awestruck, leaning further into his touch. he’s swaying you gently to the music, ignorant to all the eyes of your nearest and dearest family and friends. fairy lights cast a warm hue over his face, leaving him golden and sparkling, gleaming with his love for you.

lando’s still pristine, suit unwrinkled, dress shirt crisp, tie straight, not yet wrecked by the party that will undoubtedly overflow all around you both as the night progresses. your dress flows out around you, fanning out in intricate layers of sharp white lace. your newly acquired wedding bands feel foreign on your fingers, but perfect nonetheless. you’re more used to it than him, though, having hauled around the giant rock of an engagement ring he’d presented you with just a few months before.

martin had been called on to be a groomsman, but he’d vouched for the DJ who’s inviting the rest of the party to join you and your husband on the dance floor. people swirl all around you, blowing kisses, squeezing your arms affectionately, but lando can’t keep his eyes off of you.

your husband.

your husband your husband your husband.

it felt just as delicious to think of him with that title as it is to say it. you say it anyway.

“my husband.” you hum, content, pressing your head to his chest, looking up at him through your eyelashes.

“my wife.” he coos down at you, pressing a lasting kiss to your hairline, cautious not to mess up your carefully crafted hair.

but it’s your wedding night, and you want to kiss him properly! you figure you’ve earned the right to kiss him anywhere, anytime, whenever, so you tilt your head back and drop his hands, pulling him down. his hands find your cheeks, cupping them ever so softly as your lips meet, loving and tender. you smile into it, and he mirrors you.

“can’t wait for everything.” you sigh, blissed out from the adoration rolling off of him in waves.

“everything?” he laughs, forehead resting on yours.

“life, with you. always.”

“i’ll give you everything you want, baby.” he promises.

you wholeheartedly believe him.

-

“better make this quick, norris.” you giggle, backing up towards the marble counter.

lando stalks towards you, grinning hungrily, and hoists you up onto the sink top, making sure not to damage your dress - not that it would be the first time he’d ruined a white dress of yours. wasn’t that how you’d both ended up here, anyway?

“sue me for wanting to fuck my wife, norris.” he mocks, mouthing at the skin of your neck. you flush. mrs norris.

“no marks.” you breathe, trying to convey a tone of warning, but it comes out needy and weak, and would have fallen on deaf ears regardless.

“but you’re all mine now, honey. forever.” lando murmurs against your jaw, and your head falls back to let him run ruin across your delicate skin. “want everyone to know it.”

you don’t protest again, spreading your legs as he ruches the material of your dress so that it bunches around your hips. his hand skates below the material, blindly feeling the satin and lace of your panties. he groans as he traces over a damp patch, sinking his teeth into the junction between your neck and your shoulder.

“soaked for me, baby. been wanting me? just had to ask.” he rambles, tugging your underwear to the side. “can have my cock whenever you want it, you know? it’s all yours.”

lando smears your wetness around with a swipe of his thumb, switching rapidly between messy circles around your clit and teasing dips into your cunt, shallow enough to make you squirm for more.

“just fuck me.” you pant, rutting your hips into his hand.

“the mouth on you, baby. filthy.” he scolds teasingly, but adheres, belt clinking and slacks dropping just enough to free himself.

he drags your hips even closer to the edge of the counter and you feel the warmth of him, hot and throbbing, ghosting over the seam of your pussy. you feel the tip of him press firmly against where you’re leaking, and a roll of his hips sheathes him deep into you smoothly.

“shit, we don’t have a condom.” his eyes fly open, finding yours. you just smirk up at him.

an earnest and vulnerable conversation in the weeks leading up to your wedding had you deciding to abandon your birth control, but you’d been using condoms ever since, not wanting any accidents in the run up to your nuptials.

“you said you wanted to get to work once we got married.” you clench around him for dramatic affect. your desire for flair makes sweat bead in his hairline. “so get to work.” you bite your lip, gazing up at him through lustful, hooded eyes.

“you’re gonna kill me, i swear.” he growls, finding a wild rhythm that makes you writhe into him.

slaps of skin echo through the bathroom, whines and cries of satisfaction and his name bouncing between the cream walls. he can’t take his eyes off of you, beautiful and spent beneath him, rutting your hips to meet his.

“i love you, lando, love you like this, mon amour.” you whimper, clinging to him. his shirt hangs wrinkled, tie loose and brushing against the skin of your chest that your dress doesn’t cover.

“i love you, too, baby. so fucking perfect for me.” lando groans, pressing a messy, open mouthed kiss to your lips. it’s all tongue and teeth, raw desire as you lick into each other. “you want me to put a baby in you already, huh? ready for me to fuck you nice and full and we’ve only be married, what, six hours?” he taunts.

“i want it, please.” you beg, softening your eyes and pouting your lips.

“my wife is such a needy slut for me, yeah, baby? gonna make me a daddy?”

a few more thrusts, and you’re undone, coating him as he stutters, fills you up. you pant into the intimate space between you both, satiated as you giggle, kiss him. you rake your hands through his sweat slicked locks, holding him close.

“we better get back.” he whispers.

“you’re dripping down my thigh.” you deadpan and he cackles, neck flexing as it does. you lick your lips subconsciously, anxious to mark the taut, tanned skin up when you have him all to yourself again.

“don’t worry, honey, i’ll clean it all up later.” he winks, and you slap his shoulder.

and when you’re curled into his side, cry laughing at max’s speech, recounting the unhinged DM you’d sent him once upon a time in qatar, you work overtime to keep your thighs clenched tight.

-

it’s 3am when you finally reach the villa, tucked away somewhere in sardinia, secluded and gorgeous. you creep around exploring while he drops your bags in the master suite, finding yourself on the back deck. from there, you can see the garden, green and ornate, bursting with flowers in shades of pinks and white. then, there’s the sea, waves crashing softly onto the white sand of your private beach. the privacy stretches on for miles in both directions, faint lights far away down the coastline.

you sigh, content, tears pricking your eyes. lando had picked this out, just for you, and his choices made it clear just how well he knows you. that’s how he finds you, wiping a stray tear, and he wraps you in his arms, his head perching on your shoulder. he breathes you in, and you feel him smile against the skin of your neck. open mouthed kisses are dotted over your shoulder and you relax fully into him, eyes fluttering shut.

“it’s so gorgeous, amour. thank you so much.” you whisper, turning your head and awaiting a kiss that quickly comes.

“don’t thank me, baby. this is the least you deserve.” he murmurs, resuming a soft suckle at your neck. you roll your eyes at his generosity. he’s so selfless sometimes that he forgets that he deserves this every bit as much as he thinks you do.

“can we go down to the shore? i’m too excited to sleep.” you giggle, and he hums into the hickey he’s leaving.

“course, honey. we have plenty of time to sleep.”

the plan was, after all, to eat, sleep, fuck, repeat. and swim, of course.

you walk down to the water hand in hand, taking your time through the gardens. he picks you a flower, tucks it sweetly behind your ear.

you ditch your shoes, sighing as your feet sink into the cool sand, damp from the push and pull of the waves. the stars are out, clear as day, and you play dot to dot, pointing out constellations to lando.

“do you have any idea how happy i am?” lando asks when you’re both sat in the sand. he pulls you into his side, your head tucking below his chin.

“if you’re as happy as i am then i’d guess pretty fucking happy.” you reply.

“the wedding was… god. i was kinda nervous about the whole event but as soon as i saw you walking down that aisle…” he trails off, scoffing in disbelief. “you’re a fucking angel.”

“i wasn’t even sure that charles was gonna let me go, you know?” you chuckle, gazing up into his watery eyes.

“i did have to pry him off.” lando laughs along with you, shaking his head.

“and then his speech.” you slap a hand over your mouth, stifling laughter. lando throws his head back in faux agony.

the speech in question had started with “to my sweet, dear baby sister and… lando”, and had ended with “and if you choose, for whatever reason, to make her unhappy, they will never find your body.”

“don’t think he’s ever gonna like me.” lando shrugs, tightening his arm around you, like someone might come and take you away.

“oh, shut up, he likes you! he just… likes to torture you more.” you grin cheekily up at him, and he can’t help but lean down and kiss you urgently.

“you are so beautiful.” he mumbles against your lips. “‘m so fucking in love with you.”

“je t’aime pour toujours.” you coo, licking into his mouth. i love you forever.

something urgent and guttural sounds from deep within him and you smooth your hands through his hair. he pulls away breathless, something wild in his eyes.

“we never talked about what happened in the bathroom.” lando rasps, eyes darkening.

“we got to work.” you smirk, echoing your previous words.

“but last time we spoke about it, you weren’t one hundred percent sure about the timing.” lando furrows his eyebrows, searching your face. your smirk relaxes into a smile, genuine with excitement.

“as soon as we said our vows, i knew i was ready. those things you said about family, about us having our own family… god, lando i would have let you have me right there at the alter.”

you are the light of my life. you make me happier than i ever thought i could be, and i will spend every day trying to make you feel the same way. from the moment i saw you, i was yours and i’ll stay yours until my last breath. my greatest joy so far is getting you call you my wife, and i can’t wait to call you the mother of my children. there’s no one else on this earth that i’d want to live my life with, raise a family with, come home to. you make me whole, baby.

safe to say, you’d said your own vows through a chorus of sobs.

“are you sure you’re ready?” lando whispers.

“i want a family with you, amour. let’s make one.” you raise an eyebrow, an invitation.

“i say we start right here.” lando beams, lunging towards you.

you fall back into the sand, laughing against his lips as he kisses you deeply, mouthing down your jaw. he wastes very little time, pulling at the strap of your camisole, licking over your bare flesh as he drags it down your arm.

“here? in the sand?”

“i said what i said.”

he peels off your top, nips at your bare chest as he pushes your sweats down, just enough to get his hand beneath your panties. you gasp wetly, eyes fluttering shut as he teases your folds with his fingers. he moans into the skin of your breast, hardening at the pooling wetness he’s discovered. a few calculated swipes of his fingers and he’s sinking them deep, your sweat pants restricting his movements. he adapts, rutting his fingers into you in a slow grind, thumb bumping your clit. your nipples peak, the ocean breeze and the cold sand under your back causing you to arch violently into him.

“you’re so wet for me, baby.” lando pants, before he closes his lips around your breast, swirling his tongue around your nipple. you’re sensitive, clenching around his fingers.

“want you inside of me.” you whine, bucking your hips to meet each grind of his digits.

“i am.” he flashes you a devilish grin, punctuating his words with a harder thrust.

“lando!” you growl, warning him.

“anything for my wife.”

he pulls his fingers out of you, the sound of the action obscene, and makes a show of sucking them clean while he strips himself bare. you huff, wriggling your sweats off so that you’re naked too, your thighs falling open on cue. he settles between them, brushing your hair out of your face as he settles on top of you.

you can feel him, throbbing and hot between your legs, small drops of him hitting your bare cunt. you keen into him, rolling your hips up to meet his.

“now, baby, please.” you beg.

“never get used to this, you know?” landos chest heaves as he pushes into you. “always feels as good as the first time.”

he sinks all the way in, taking note of every minuscule movement of your face. his breathing stutters at the warmth and wetness that envelops him whole, his tummy tight. you’re no better, lip caught between your teeth as you watch him hungrily.

“you remember our first time, baby? how good we were together, even then?” lando rasps, pulling out of you the tiniest bit, just to slam his hips right back against yours. it makes electricity shoot up your spine to the top of your head, leaving you hot all over.

“of course, amour, i think about it all the time.” you breathe, eyes rolling back as he sets his pace, slow yet so deliciously brutal.

“did you think then that we’d be doing this forever? that you’d be all mine, begging me to get you pregnant?” he teases, fingers digging into the plush of your hips.

“i used to think about it then, if we’d make it. knew we would. wanted you forever from the very first time.” you choke out, meaning it. “‘m so fucking happy lando.” you gasp, grabbing at every part of him that you can.

your hands smooth over his bronze skin, bound to get even richer from all of the sun kisses the rest of your honeymoon would bring. you zone out, honing in on the sound of the waves dancing against the shoreline, eyes staring up at the moon just behind his head. you can’t believe that you’re his, here, that this is real life and that you share a last name with a man that glows like the sun. a head of chocolate frosted curls obscures your vision, and you realise that you’re crying.

“baby? you with me?” lando draws you back to him, hips still.

“i’m here, ‘m sorry, it’s perfect. you’re so perfect.”

you pull him down, so desperate to taste him, moans muffled. your tears trail down his cheeks as well, so close and intertwined. he’s gentler now, pawing at your sides attentively, pulling your body along with his.

“gonna give you everything you want, pretty girl. my beautiful, beautiful girl.” lando coos.

“come with me.” you plead, nerve endings set alight by the overstimulating way his cock drags against your walls.

“you gonna take it all for me, mama?” and your vision goes white. he’s evil for that, playing you like a fool, but it makes you quiver around him, thighs shaking where they’re locked around his waist.

you chant his name, blasphemy, and words of absolute adoration as you let go, coating him in waves of your very own creation. he tries his best to ride through it, but one look at your twisted face, of your quaking body, and he’s dumb with pleasure, crashing down on top of you like a heated blanket.

the sun rises in the east when he carries you to bed, your eyes drooping as you loop your arms around his neck.

“get some sleep for me, angel. we have a baby to make.”

-

“do you ever wonder about trying new things?” lando asks, hand linked loosely with yours.

sea water rushes over your feet up to your ankles, the sun warming the skin of your backs as you stroll lazily along the coastline. it’s been three days of nothing but each other, a big, peaceful house and endless sunshine.

you sigh, rolling your eyes.

“lando, for the fourteenth fucking time, i promise i’ll play tarkov with you when we get home, but it’s just not really my thing-“ you whine, but his louder than life laugh cuts you off, slicing through the serenity of the beach.

“not what i meant, baby.” he chuckles, utterly fond of the way your face wrinkles with confusion.

“what, then?”

“in the bedroom.” lando smirks, and your eyes go wide.

“like… like what?” you squeak, slightly lost.

your sex life was nothing short of adventurous, to say the least.

“like maybe…” he hums teasingly. “you take control?” lando raises his eyebrows suggestively, and you feel yourself flush.

“me? i thought you liked taking charge?”

lando stops, pulling you into his body. water splatters higher up your legs, cooling you down the slightest amount. his hands cup your cheeks, tilting your head up to look at him.

“i love watching you.” he states simply. “and i wanna watch you push yourself.”

“okay.” you inhale shakily. “okay.” you repeat with more conviction. an idea pops into your head. you can’t resist the smirk that pulls at the corner of your lips, and lando grins at the glimmer in your eyes.

“go back to the house. wait for me in our room.”

“naked?” he quips cheekily.

“what do you think?” you tease. lando kisses you quickly, but you push him back. “go.” you command.

he turns to walk away, repeatedly turning back to you, as if he wants to make sure he hasn’t imagined your entire existence. you just turn your back, staring out to sea. the sky is awash with streaks of purple and orange, and you feel your skin prickle with excitement. you take your time walking back, actively trying to slow yourself down. when you reach the door to the master suite, your breath hitches in your throat.

your husband looks fucking ethereal, stretched out across the off-white linen on the king sized mattress. he’s elongated by the way his head is thrown back, bathed in the lamp light as his muscles flex, taut from the way he’s gripping himself, working himself from base to tip. a faint sheen of sweat coats his bronzer-still skin and your mouth runs dry.

“couldn’t wait?” you rasp, low and dangerous. his eyes flutter open, and the bastard has the audacity to beam at you.

“took too long.” he shrugs, resuming without a care in the world. you hear him pant, teeth gritted from the pleasure.

“hands off, lando.” you slowly undress, untying your sarong and letting it flutter to the floor. your bikini quickly follows, landing in a colourful heap on the floor. you stalk towards him and watch him swallow hard when you perch on your knees at the end of the bed. “you asked for this, amour, and you couldn’t even wait to enjoy it properly.”

you’re pouting at him, feigning sadness. he picks up on it, eyes locked on you, trailing shamelessly over your breasts.

“was thinking about how pretty you looked out there.” lando rasps, fisting the duvet beneath him. you tilt your head to the side, raking your eyes over his frame.

“bad boys don’t get the real thing.”

you smooth your hand up his thigh towards his hipbone, and you notice the way he twitches, cock stood tall and waiting. he’s leaking, desperate and aching, but he plays along, needy for it. you grin lazily, wriggling up the bed until you’re close enough, throwing your leg over one of his until you’re straddling his thigh, the skin warm against your bare cunt.

“baby…” he breathes, bringing up a hand to graze your thigh, but you bat it away.

“no touching.” you scold. “i’m gonna take what i want and,” you pause, thoughtfully. “then, maybe, i’ll give you something.”

lando pouts up at you, slowly retreating his hand until it’s back at his side. his jaw is tight as he fights to keep his mouth shut, trying to be content with just watching. after all, you are quite the sight.

you roll your hips experimentally, gasping at the way your clit grazes his skin. your head falls back, out of it as you find a rhythm that works. you drag yourself backwards and forwards, panting as you go, your wetness smearing across his flexed thigh.

“it’s so good, lando,” you moan. “wish you could touch me, but you don’t behave.” you tut, smirking down at him.

“i’ll be good, baby.” he chokes, and your eyes fly open. you rake you eyes over the shape of him, the tense dips of each of his abs, the way his hip bone pulses, leading all the way down to where he’s throbbing.

“looks painful.” you bite your lip. “want me to help?”

“please.” he coos, reaching out for you again before he thinks better of it, twisting his fingers back into the sheets until his knuckles are white.

you grip the base of his cock, loose at first, squeezing tight a few times. his mouth falls open, a deep, unhinged groan rumbling through his chest. you almost lose yourself in how gorgeous he looks but you remain focused, fucking your hand up and down on him a few times, experimenting.

“you gotta wait, amour.” you warn, thumbing at the tip, smearing beads of pre cum over the head. lando whines, squeezing his eyes shut, teeth gritting so hard that his jawline pops, defining it even more than usual. you grin. he’s wrapped so tight around your finger.

“don’t tease me.” he begs, bucking his hips into your hand.

“but you gotta keep it all in for me, amour. save it all so you can fill me up whenever i want.” your voice drips all over him like honey, making him shiver violently.

“you can’t just say that-“

“i can, lando. i can,” you giggle, evil. “and you’re gonna take it.” it’s a promise and a threat and he’s seconds away from blowing his load all over you.

“jesus, i’ve created a fucking monster.” lando hisses, gasping with every slow rub of your hands over his cock.

“and now you’re gonna deal with the consequences, sweetheart.” you purr. “you wanna fuck me?”

his eyes shoot wide open, and he nods desperately, his gaze boyish and needy.

“so wet for you, lando, think i’ll just sink right…” you trail off, manoeuvring yourself so that you’re hovering over his length, red and swollen. “down.” you moan, filling yourself up with ease.

lando cries out, a broken man of his own design, and you pant, rocking yourself backwards and forward as you adjust to the intrusion.

“we feel so good together.” you breathe, peering down at where he’s splitting you open.

“so good.” lando affirms. “can i touch you?” he whines, the veins in his arms protruding through his skin. they remind you how powerful he is, how easily he could flip you over and pound into you like a madman, but he’s letting you destroy him and he’s loving every second. you clamp down around him at the thought, a gush of your slick dripping down around him.

“touch me.” you comply, and he springs from the mattress, sitting unsupported in the middle of the bed as his hands snake around your waist. you anchor him though, holding him close as he holds you tight against him, rutting up into you so deliciously that you cry out his name wetly, face buried in his hair. “so good for me.” you whisper.

your hands cup his face, pulling back from his frizzy curls enough to press your lips to his, swallowing each-others moans.

“gonna come, baby.” lando mumbles into your lips, eyes glazed over with panic, scared you’re gonna deny him.

“that’s okay, amour, you saved it all for me.” you kiss the words against the corner of his mouth, eyes fluttering shut as your own orgasm tightens your belly to the point of no return. “good boy, lando, fill me up now, sweetheart.”

the grunt he lets out heightens into a whine, lost to the crook of your neck as he releases, grinding into you as he lets go. it sends a rush of heat up your spine, a flame to gunpowder, and you thrash in his arms, meeting your own end seconds later.

you come down in his embrace, pulling away to meet his wide eyes, awestruck and glossy.

“thank you, baby.” he mutters, hugging you tight for just a moment, before rolling you onto your back.

“love you.” you whisper, confused as to where he’s going when he starts to move down the bed.

you don’t have to wonder for long, watching as he settles his head against your thigh, licking his lips as he finds his release dripping out of you. two fingers run through your folds, teasing each and every overstimulated nerve. your teeth sink into your bottom lip right when his fingers sink into your cunt. lando’s in a daze, watching the way everything seeps out of you.

“keep it in for me.” lando slurs, transfixed on every clench of your spent cunt around his thick fingers. your eyes roll back in your head.

-

you roll over in the bed, the sunlight streaming through the linen curtains rousing you from your slumber. you push your hair from your face, reaching blindly for your husband but your hand lands on cold sheets, thudding dully against the mattress. you wrinkle your nose, sitting up and scanning the bedroom. you don’t find him, confused. he never wakes up first. your feet meet the cool tiles of the floor and you pad into the en-suite to freshen up, pulling a loose robe on before you make your way downstairs. you can smell eggs, toast and something floral, and you grin giddily, already anticipating what awaits.

you find lando in the middle of the kitchen, sleepy eyed and smiling at you like you’re the centre of the universe, sent to earth just for him. he’s surrounded, surrounded, by flowers, all kinds of varieties, and they flood the space, every surface covered by bouquets and arrangements. behind him, nestled amongst the sea of pinks, yellow and whites, the table is laid out with a delicious spread, and you feel a pang of hunger at the sight of fresh pastries and juices.

“mon dieu.” you sigh dreamily, grazing a hand over flower petals as you make your way through the jungle towards lando. “all of this for me? how the fuck did you manage this?” you swoon, wrapping your arms around his neck. he leans down, kisses you sweet and slow.

“rumour has it, there are no flowers left on the island.” he chuckles into your neck, and you giggle, leaning up to kiss him again.

“you’re insane.” you reply, awestruck. how did you get so lucky?

“ready for the day?” lando asks, toying with the ends of your hair.

“as long as i get to eat my body weight in sfogliatella first.” you tell him, eyeing the table behind him hungrily.

-

droplets of water sparkle in the sunlight, dripping slowly down his lean back, flexing with every shake of his head.

lando had crawled out the pool, and right between your legs, where he now resides, mouthing at the crotch of your bikini bottoms. he snaps the band of them against your waist, and you arch further into him every time his nose bumps your clothed clit.

“you’re being mean.” you whine, head falling back against the sun lounger. your book has fallen to the stone paved floor, your place surely lost, but you couldn’t care less. every time you pick the damn thing up, your husband has found a new, unique, way to entice you out of actually reading it, usually with his tongue.

“you want my mouth, baby? just say please.” he smirks up at you, wet curls falling over his eyes. water droplets drip over your thighs, cold against your warm skin and you shiver.

“please.” you growl, not really meaning it, but it’s the thought that counts, right?

“polite.” lando tuts, but he relents, twisting the ties that hold the bottoms together until they come undone. he tugs the material away, throws it blindly, and the quiet splash that sounds from behind him tells you both that they’d landed in the pool. he looks up at you, sheepish, and you glare at him.

“make it up to me.” you mutter, bucking your hips into his face.

lando complies, closing his mouth over your clit, sucking softly at the bud. you’re throbbing for him, writhing in the heat of the sun at his electric touch.

two fingers slither between your folds, and he groans into your cunt at the slickness that he finds there, laving his tongue through your slit to savour your taste before his fingers sink inside of you. as he builds a rhythm, fingertips bumping that special spot, you cry out, melting completely into the lounger.

“can feel us from earlier,” lando slurs, lips bumping your clit as he speaks. you shiver, the wet squelch between you quivering thighs leaving you utterly breathless. “so good for me, keeping it all in.”

you let go a few seconds later, grinning languidly as you watch him lick his fingers clean through your sunglasses. he kisses you cheekily, leaving you with your taste on your tongue, and he throws himself back into the pool.

“get my bikini bottoms!” you call, flustered by the way the low sun hits him, paints his golden and shiny.

“but i prefer the view without them.” he winks, but dives under the water to retrieve them nonetheless.

-

“‘m so, so in love with you.” lando rasps into your ear, mouthing at the skin of your flushed cheeks.

you’re chest to chest, eyes locked as he grinds into you, deeper and deeper somehow with every thrust. he leaves you dizzy, tingling and weightless with every stroke, hips brushing yours.

“lando,” you sigh dreamily, threading your fingers through his curls. they’re loosening from the humidity, the heat burning between you both, no longer perfectly coiled like they had been during your dinner date.

lando had hired out a small italian restaurant overlooking the sea, soft fairy lights strung over your heads as you’d sipped wine, hands loosely clasped together. he’d toyed with your wedding band the whole time, eyes rarely leaving yours. it was a perfect end to a perfect honeymoon, and as he’d driven you back to your villa, the tension had simmered.

he had you on your back quickly, but he was careful with you, lazily revealing more and more skin as he slowly undressed you. he’d tried to slide between your thighs, eyes lit up with longing, but you’d refused him. you needed him against you, buried so deep, intertwined. lando hadn’t fought you much, pouting at the deprivation of getting a taste, but when he’d slid his cock through your folds, easy because of your glistening slick, his eyes had rolled back and he’d gotten over the disappointment.

“you’re so perfect.” you pant, leaning up to kiss him. it’s sweet, full of passion, leaves you wanting. “i love you.” you whisper when he pulls away, his forehead resting intimately against yours. warm breaths mingle, rapid and needy from the intensity of it all.

when you fall apart under him, a string of jumbled french rolls off of your tongue, your eyes squeezed shut at the pure inferno of ecstasy that washes over you. you’re both damp with sweat, his curls falling in a mess over his forehead, framing pretty eyes that roll back in his head when he burrows deep and reaches his own release.

once you’re untangled, you lay facing each other and his fingertips ghost over the curve of your bare waist. you watch one another, utterly content with the silence, bathing in the warmth of the bedside lamp and the pale moonlight that filters in through the open balcony doors. the cool nighttime breeze grazes over your naked bodies, pulling you out of the unrelenting heat of the moment and into something serene, peaceful.

“i can’t wait to spend my life with you.” lando whispers, his words soft in the quiet of the room. you let them wash over you, tuned in to the waves rippling against the shore in the distance. you grin coyly back at him, grabbing the hand that he’s stroking you with. you pull it to your lips, kiss it sweetly.

you fall asleep with his arms wrapped around you, your back to his chest, loose curls tickling the skin of your neck. one of his hands rests gently over your lower belly, covered with one of yours.

your bags wait by the door, packed and ready to go home, where the rest of your life with him begins.

-

“i like this colour better, i think.” you muse, flicking between paint swatches. violet white and apple moon have caught your attention, but you wonder if a colder undertone would work best. you’ve taken on the task of redoing a guest room, a little end of summer project.

lando wrinkles his nose and you roll your eyes playfully.

you’re lounged across your sofa, the sun slowly dipping behind the horizon and you watch it through the open balcony doors. the room is tinged orange, glowing, painting your husband angelic.

“don’t you think something… warmer would work better?” he asks, leaning closer to have another look.

“not everyone loves fluorescent yellow.” you tease, and he wraps an arm around your shoulder, pulling you into his side.

“okay, not that.” he laughs. “what about,” he scans the other swatches on the coffee table, reaching for one. “this one?”

he hands you honey beam, and you toy with the small card.

“i think it’s too pink.” you say.

“it’s cute! i just think we should paint it something soft, just in case…” he trails off, leaning forward and immersing himself in the samples. you lean in, too, chasing him. he has this small smile on his lips, lost in thought.

“hey, ‘in case’ what?” you ask.

lando turns to you, just stares for a second. the low sun makes your eyes sparkle, and he melts.

“in case we get pregnant.” he says quietly.

“oh.” you coo, grinning up at him. “i suppose you have a point.”

“yeah?” he breathes, excited in a way you can only compare to a sweet, innocent puppy.

“yeah.”

“like, baby, i love your eye for design but i don’t want our baby to grow up in a a pretentious, grey, prison-“ lando teases you, and you shut him up by wrestling him back onto the sofa.

“ve te faire foutre.” you scold, kissing over his cheeks.

“i love you and i love our house.” lando murmurs sincerely.

the paint swatches are forgotten as you laugh together and kiss him sweetly into the sofa.

-

lando relaxes into the seat, waiting for the plane to take off. oscar sits across from him, already falling asleep, hoodie pulled tight around his head. charles and alexandra are supposed to be joining them on the flight back to nice. he wonders where they are - he wants nothing more than to get home, curl into his wife’s side. lando snaps a picture of his dozing teammate, smirking at the screen, but before he can upload it to his instagram story, your contact photo fills the screen. he accepts the facetime, beaming as your tired eyes meet his through the screen.

“hey baby.” lando coos, sticking his tongue out at you.

“mon amour,” you greet, grinning at him lazily. “have you taken off yet?” you ask softly. you’re on your side in bed, blankets cocooning you, and lando aches to be there with you.

“soon, waiting for your brother and alex.” lando rolls his eyes jokingly, and you tut.

“i’ll tell them off.” you frown, unserious.

“god, don’t do that! i’m already terrified of that man.” lando shivers, and your laugh fills his ears, warms the blood flowing through his cheeks. “are you okay, though, baby? you look tired.”

“yeah, think it’s just sugar crash,” you half shrug. “i’ve been really tired for the last few days, it’s nothing.”

“sugar?” lando’s eyebrows furrow. you’re not one for sugary things, supplementing it with your body weight in snacks. you’re a savoury girl, through and through.

“yeah, i’m all kinder-d out.” you giggle, sheepish. his eyes go wide.

“my kinder?” lando gasps, feigning hurt. he sees it, then, the pile of wrappers on the nightstand behind you.

“whoops? don’t even know what came over me, but your entire stash is gone.”

“how am i ever gonna forgive you for this?” lando shakes his head, smirking at the screen.

“just get more on the way back? please?” you plead, giving him the eyes that he’d die for.

“course, baby.” he promises, but he’s mulling it all over in his head. “you’re not getting sick, are you?”

cravings. overly tired. all you had to say next was that you were nauseous and he’d be buying a crib. he kept his mouth shut, though, because it clearly hasn’t dawned on you yet.

“not sure, i’ve been fine mostly.” you shrug again, and lando can’t help but smile like a fool. “what?” you ask, noticing his untamed expression.

“nothing, i just love you. okay, baby, i’m gonna call charles and see where he is. i’ll be home in a few hours.”

“don’t forget my kinder!” you call, blowing him a kiss. “have a good flight, amour, i love you.”

lando can’t quieten his mind, too overwhelmed with the possibility that you’re about to expand your family, something he’s imagined since before he’d even proposed.

when charles steps onto the small plane, met with the sight of his brother in law grinning like an idiot at absolutely nothing, he wonders, yet again, what kind of joke god was playing on him.

-

you hear the front door open, the soft thud of bags dropping to the floor, and you spring from the mattress. you ignore the way your tummy turns uncomfortably, and speed down the hallway to meet him.

“hey baby.” lando murmurs, holding you tight when you jump into his arms. you never get used to him being gone.

“missed you.” you whisper, breathing in the familiar scent of him, warm and spicy, and even better than usual. “i’m so proud of you.”

lando was leading the championship, but he couldn’t get too comfortable. charles and lewis were looming in the near distance, and oscar was creeping towards the party at a rate of knots. but lando was on a streak of race wins, and he couldn’t deny that your praise made him giddy. after all, these days it was all for you.

“yeah?” lando asks, pressing his forehead against yours. you hum in agreement, leaning in for a kiss. it’s sweet, tender, silent confirmation of just how much you’ve missed one another.

“did you pick up my chocolate?” you pout, fingers intertwined as you walk to the sofa. you drop down, curling up and lando sits next to you.

“i did, and i also got you something else.” lando smiles coyly, unzipping his bag. your eyebrows furrow in confusion.

first, he hands you the kinder chocolate. then, he hands you a pregnancy test.

seeing the two items together makes it dawn on you, and you slap your hands over your face.

“mon dieu!” you gasp. “how did i not realise?” when you lower your hands, lando sees how your eyes glimmer with tears, your lips stretched into a nervous smile.

“so i’m not crazy for thinking it, right?” lando laughs, cupping your cheeks with warm, shaking hands.

“you’re not. should i take it now?”

“i might die if you don’t.” lando’s dead serious, the tension between you palpable.

you stand from the sofa, speed towards the bathroom, and lando watches you go. he sighs, rubbing his eyes, overcome with jitters and excitement.

time seems to stand still as he waits, eyes locked on the door that you’d gone through, waiting for any movement. five minutes must have passed, but if you’d told him it had been five years, he would have believed it. the door handle makes him jump to his feet, and he walks towards you tentatively. your expression is unreadable and he wants to scream.

“so? are you- are we?” lando pleads, only a few steps away from you now.

your neutral expression morphs into one of pure joy, the tears you’d been holding back streaming in a free-for-all.

“all that work we put in must have paid off.” you whisper, and lando surges towards you. your feet leave the ground, held so tight as he spins you around.

“we’re having a baby?” lando breathes, placing you back on the ground carefully.

“you’re gonna be a dad.” you manage through tears.

“my god,” his voice is laced with disbelief, utterly enamoured with you. “i can’t even believe it.” his face is buried in the crook of your neck, and you feel his wet, hot tears pooling there.

“i’m pregnant.” you say it slowly, tasting it on your tongue, feeling the weight of it. your husband clings to you, and your hands rake through his hair, soothing him with your dull nails across his scalp, as you ground yourself in the ecstasy of the moment.

“we did it!” lando cheers, flushed red, his watery eyes shining like the sun hitting the sea. you’re shaking, fingertips grazing your sweatshirt covered belly. his fingers lace with yours, rubbing gentle circles over the fabric.

“we did.” your voice wobbles, cheeks aching from your unshakable smile. “what the hell do we do now?”

“we plan a really elaborate hiding spot so that charles never finds me. you and the baby can visit.” lando replies earnestly, bursting into giggles when you swat his arm.

he pulls you into a kiss, so slow and gentle that the whole house melts away around you; all that’s left is you and him, and something so beautiful that you’ve created together.

“thank you.” lando mumbles against your lips.

“i’m just glad you convinced me not to paint the spare room grey.”

-

taglist

(lemme know if you wanna be added or removed. tags that don’t work will be removed)

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[ateezscupid]

─── FEB FILTH FEST: Call Out My Name - DOM & SUB ♡

SUMMARY / You woke up needy, and Hongjoong helped.

warnings ✩ PORN LINK, SMUT, DOM/SUB dynamics, soft!dom hongjoong, fem!reader, sub!reader, vanilla sex, daddy kink, praise, not really ddlg (the lg part weirds me out) so it's kind of just dd, oral (f), unprotected sex

word count ✩ 1,95k

tags ✩@desirehorizon @tangerineastronaut @felixs-voice-makes-me-wanna @starillusion13 @mingitheskzstan @bbdeongi @dawn-iscozy @xh01bri @mallielovssyou @clxssy1997 @soreberry

ATEEZ MASTERLIST / REQUEST / FEB FILTH FEST

NOTE !! None!

"Harder…" you mumble in your sleep, your fists clenched tightly under the blankets. The room is silent except for the rhythmic ticking of the clock on the wall. It's 8 AM, but the curtains are drawn, keeping the light at bay.

You whimper, your body jerking itself awake. You looked around and scoot closer to Hongjoong, feeling embarrassed for disturbing him. The digital clock beside the bed glows 8:03 AM, the red digits pulsing steadily like a silent alarm. The room is small, cluttered with the remnants of last night's study session: textbooks, empty cups of coffee, and crumpled papers litter the floor and desk. The air is stale, a testament to the lack of open windows and fresh air.

"Joong…" you shook him a bit. His eyes snapped open, and he sat up with a start, scanning the room with a wild gaze. Recognizing the safety of his own space, he relaxed slightly.

"You okay?" he whispered, his voice thick with sleep.

You shook your head, pushing the covers off of you and crawling on top of you. "No," you tugged at your shirt. "I need you…"

Hongjoong's eyes softened, and he reached out to pull you closer into his arms. "Yeah? How bad?" His question was gentle, his voice a soothing balm to your ringing head.

"Really bad," you tugged at your shirt. "P-Please. Just….u-use your mouth or something." You felt your cheeks flushing hot with embarrassment. You had never been this vulnerable with him before.

"Aw, is my baby needy?" he teased, trying to ease the tension, but the tremble in your voice didn't go unnoticed. He could feel the urgency in your touch. With a sigh, he rolled onto his back, giving you access to his bare chest. "Do whatever you need to feel better," he said, his eyes searching yours for reassurance that this was really what you wanted.

"N-No, I need-" you tear your shirt off. "I need this." The fabric was sticky with cold sweat and it was suffocating you.

"Yeah?" he runs his fingers up and down your waist. "Okay… lay down."

You nod and plop onto the other side of the bed, laying on your back, the cool air from the air conditioner a welcome relief on your bare skin. Hongjoong sits up, the sheets falling away from his chest as he hovers over you, spreading your legs.

He pulled your pajama shorts down to your thighs, exposing your most intimate parts to the coolness of the room. His warm breath tickled your skin as he leaned in, placing a gentle kiss on the inside of your left thigh. You felt a shiver run up your spine, the anticipation building like a crescendo in a symphony. The touch was light and feathery, his tongue tracing patterns that made you squirm with pleasure. He moved closer, his nose brushing against your core, and you could feel the heat from his breath.

"Joongie~," you mewl as his mouth finds the right spot, his tongue swirling and pressing down, sending waves of pleasure through your body. His eyes meet yours, filled with hunger and affection as he continues to explore your wetness with tender strokes. Your back arches off the bed, pushing your pelvis closer to his face, desperately seeking more.

"R-Right there, right there-" you run your fingers through his hair, guiding him as his mouth works its magic. Each flick of his tongue sends shockwaves of pleasure through your core, making it impossible to hold back the moans that spill from your lips. He hums in response, the vibrations adding another layer to the sensations.

You could feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge, your breaths coming out in ragged gasps. Hongjoong's tongue moved in a steady rhythm, lapping up your wetness as if he was afraid he might miss a single drop. His eyes never left yours, and you could see the determination in them to bring you to climax.

"R-Right TH--FUCK!" You cry out. "D-Don't stop!"

Hongjoong smirks, the vibration from his voice adding to the pleasure. He knows exactly what you need. He flattens his tongue and presses it firmly against your clit, the pressure and speed increasing as you get closer to the peak of pleasure. Your fingers tighten in his hair, tugging gently as your body tenses. You're panting now, each breath shallower than the last.

"H-Hongjoong!" you moan, your eyes rolling back as the pleasure intensifies. Your legs quiver and tighten around his neck as you feel yourself approaching the brink of your climax. His tongue never falters, lapping at you with an urgency that matches the racing of your heart. You can feel your muscles tense up, the heat within you building like a volcano ready to erupt.

With a final, desperate push, you come apart in his mouth, your body spasming as the orgasm washes over you. The room fades away, leaving only the sensation of his tongue and the sound of your own cries of pleasure. He continues to lick and suck gently, riding out the waves with you until they subside, leaving you trembling and breathless on the bed.

When you open your eyes again, the room is a hazy blur of shadows and early morning light. Hongjoong wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, a smug look on his face. "Feel better?" he asks, his voice low and smoky.

"Mhm…" you mumble, your voice a mix of satisfaction and exhaustion as your body relaxes into the mattress. You can feel your heart rate slowly returning to normal, the throb between your legs echoing the beat of your pulse.

Hongjoong pushed his boxers down a bit, just enough for his cock to come out. It was hard, standing tall and demanding attention. You could see the precum glistening at the tip, a testament to his own need. "Now, let me take care of this," he murmured, his eyes locked on yours as he positioned himself between your legs.

He gently pushed your legs further apart, and you felt the tip of his erection brush against your sensitive skin. Your breath hitched, the remnants of your orgasm still pulsing through your body as you anticipate his next move. With a firm grip on his shaft, he guided it to your entrance, pausing for a moment to appreciate the view. Your eyes locked onto his, filled with a mix of lust and love as he pushed inside you.

"You feel that?" he whispered, his voice a seductive purr as he began to rock his hips, his cock inching deeper into you. The sensation was exquisite, filling you up completely, stretching you around him. You nodded, unable to form coherent words, your eyes fluttering shut as he claimed you with a gentle but firm strokes.

"Spread your legs a little more for me, pretty girl," Hongjoong instructed, his voice a seductive whisper that sent shivers down your spine. You obeyed, opening yourself up to him completely, and he took full advantage of the invitation. With a gentle push, he sank deeper, his cock sliding in and out of you with a slick sound that filled the room.

His movements grew more deliberate, his hips rolling into yours in a slow, steady rhythm that had you squirming with pleasure. The friction was perfect, his length hitting all the right spots and sending sparks of pleasure through your body with every thrust. You could feel yourself clenching around him, trying to hold onto the feeling of fullness as he began to quicken his pace.

"Joong…" you moaned, your hips rising to meet his, eager for more. His eyes darkened with desire as he watched your reaction, his own need growing with every whimper and gasp you made. He leaned down to kiss you, his tongue delving into your mouth as his cock drove deeper into you. The kiss was as passionate as it was possessive, a silent declaration of his love and desire.

"God, you feel so fucking good," he groaned against your lips, his teeth grazing your bottom lip before he bit down gently, claiming it as his own. Your hands gripped the bedsheets, your nails digging into the fabric as you tried to hold on to the sensations threatening to overwhelm you.

His rhythm grew faster, his cock pistoning in and out of you with increasing urgency. Each thrust sent a shock of pleasure through your core, and your legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer, deeper. You could feel the tension building again, your body begging for release.

"F-Faster," you whimper, your voice barely above a whisper. The words seemed to spur Hongjoong on, his hips snapping against yours with a newfound fervor. The slap of skin on skin filled the air, punctuating the quietude of the early morning. His eyes never left yours, the intensity of his gaze sending shivers down your spine.

"Oh my god," you shudder, nails digging into the pillow under your head. You pull it over your face and close your thighs, trying to muffle the sounds escaping you. His chuckle is muffled by your skin, sending vibrations through your core.

"It's okay, baby. I got you," he grabs your hips, not stopping his pace, his movements becoming more demanding. You can feel his muscles tensing, his breaths growing more ragged. The bed creaks under the weight of your passionate dance, the sound only adding to the intensity of the moment.

"Cmon, give it to me baby," he moans, your voice muffled by the pillow as your body arches off the bed. The pleasure is unbearable, a sweet agony that has you writhing under him. He's so deep inside you, filling you up in a way that nothing else ever could. Your toes curl, your nails dig into the mattress as he hits that spot inside you that makes you see stars.

"D-Daddy, I-I'm-"

"Let it out, baby," he growled, his own need clear in his voice. He grabbed your thighs, pushing them apart wider as he drove into you with a ferocity that sent you spiraling over the edge. Your orgasm crashed over you like a wave, your body trembling and shaking with the force of it. Your muffled screams filled the room, the pillow doing little to hide the raw passion of the moment.

As the intensity of your climax began to subside, you felt him tense above you, his breath coming in ragged gasps. His eyes searched yours, looking for permission, for the green light to let go of his own control. You nodded, your body still pulsing with pleasure.

"Good girl," he murmured before pulling the pillow from your face and capturing your mouth in a bruising kiss. His tongue invaded yours, mimicking the rhythm of his hips as he thrust into you one last time, his cock swelling and spilling his hot seed deep within your quivering walls. The feeling of him filling you up was almost too much to handle, but it only served to heighten the aftershocks of your orgasm.

When he finally pulled out, you felt empty and exposed, your body still sensitive from the intense pleasure. He leaned over to kiss your neck, his teeth grazing the tender flesh as his hand found your clit, sending a jolt through your system. "You're so beautiful when you come," he whispered, his voice hoarse with his own release.

"T-Thank you…" you managed to murmur, your voice still shaky from the intensity of your orgasm. Hongjoong pulled out of you gently, his cock leaving you with a feeling of emptiness that was almost painful. He collapsed beside you, his chest heaving with exertion, his body glistening with a sheen of sweat.

"Let's go clean you up."

[kisssukuna33]

HusbandSukuna! Who's never been the one to understand today's relationships. 50/50? No, his woman will never touch a single bill with her delicate fingers as long as he's alive and well.

HusbandSukuna! Who never understood the whole "giving your relationship time before proposing" thing. You aren't a real man if you drag out your relationship and take what you have for granted, Atleast that must have been what he was thinking when he put a big rock on your finger after dating for only 7 months.

HusbandSukuna! Who takes his role as your fiancé VERY seriously. He asked you to move in with him just right after he proposed. He does everything in he can to make sure you feel comfortable in his house. He even went as far to renovate half of the house to your liking despite your much protesting that it's not needed.

HusbandSukuna! Who checks everyday to see if you are wearing the ring he put on you. it almost become a habbit for him to kiss the ring in your finger every single morning. Not just in the morning, whenever you two hangout in the public he intentionally kisses it to give other people the signal that his girl is strictly taken.

HusbandSukuna! Who wants to get married as soon as possible but he respect your time and choices. He doesn't want you to get overwhelmed by this at all, so he waits patiently ( had to restraint himself from asking like 5 times)

HusbandSukuna! Who gets so freaking happy when you finally confront him about being ready for marriage. The moment those words slip from your mouth his hands instantly go to your waist to pull you closer, closer till your foreheads are touching, He places a warm kiss on your temple and the next thing you hear makes your heart warm and fuzzy.

"You are the best thing that ever happened to me, I promise to be the best husband and I swear on my life I will take care of you and protect you till I die, I love you"

HusbandSukuna! Who jumps straight into the wedding planning. He hears from his married friends how stressful wedding planning was to them and he determines to not make you experience any bit of the stress, He tries everything in his power to make things go smooth as possible.

HusbandSukuna! Who breakdown in tears the moment he saw you walking the aisle to everyone's shock. The grumpy tatted 6'4 scary big guy who has given them nothing but attitude crying over seeing the love of his life walking down aisle? Who would have thought.

HusbandSukuna! Who immediately intertwine your fingers with his as he looks into your eyes like he sees nothing but the whole world in them and wait no minute to whisper "The prettiest, mine"

HusbandSukuna! who finally breaks free from his staring as the wedding officiant clears his throat to let him know that there's a whole wedding left to finish.

Everyone expect him to do a short vow and get done with it. Sukuna isn't known as the most expressive guy after all, but to everyone's surprise the vow lasted whole 15 minutes!! It was filled with nothing but love and appreciation for you and the little grin plastered in his mouth at the end of the vow makes it obvious how proud he was of himself ( I mean practicing this costed him a years worth friend too, after he suggested Sukuna to add some dirty degrading sex joke about you in the vows he ended up punching the guy as a result, so hell yeah he's proud of this!)

HusbandSukuna! Who keeps the honeymoon destination as a surprise till last minute, and your heart fills with joy as you realize he took you back to the beach you two first met, a place special to you both.

He booked the hotel room with the best view to the beach as expected.

HusbandSukuna! Who's heart feel warm all of a sudden, it's only a year ago he believed himself to be someone who's unable to be loved. Oh how much have changed since then.

HusbandSukuna! Who takes your hand and drags you to the balcony for a dance.

The smell of the beach, evening lightening, sounds of the ocean..All adds to the atmosphere as you two get lost in yourselves.

HusbandSukuna! Who takes a glance at the beach and sees a young family, not much older than both of you playing in the sand with their little girl.

HusbandSukuna! Who has a small smile tugged at his lips as he mentally promises to himself that he will return here again after you two finally complete your own little family.

No grammar checks, forgive me I'm too lazy

What do we think about part 2?

[ariestrxsh]

dealer!chris

💸 content warning: smut/angst, masturbation, mentions of hard drugs and guns, enemies to lovers, slow burn

💸 summary: literally just a really hot blurb about dealer!chris smoking a joint on a roof while jerking off to the thought of you

WHEN SPARKS FLY

chapters: | intro | 1 | 2 | 3 |

Chris found himself up on the rooftop of his girlfriend, Daisy's house after you'd dropped him off and gotten home safely, a lit joint dangling from his pouty lips, and his right hand below his waist, fiddling with his belt. Daisy had been soundly sleeping when he arrived, and he took the opportunity to take care of something that had been nagging him off and on all night.

He unstrapped his gun from his hip and laid it on the rooftop beside him. He unzipped his jeans, undid his button, and reached into his waistband. He couldn't set his cock free quickly enough. He started methodically stroking it, immediately feeling the relief of his own long-awaited touch accompanied by the cool metal of his rings.

He loved nights like this. He cherished the time he spent on rooftops, whether it was with music and a joint, with deliberating thoughts, or even just a late-night masturbation session. He loved the risky element of it, but how private it was at the same time.

The clouds were slowly parting to reveal the starry sky beneath them, the rain had stopped, and the wind was still gently blowing, adding to the intimate moment he was having with himself. "Oh, fuck," he softly moaned as a bit of precum pooled at his slit.

He gently squeezed his cock, the clear fluid beginning to leak down his perfect, mushroom-shaped head as he pumped it in his hand. The cool air rushed over his tip, causing him to shiver in delight as a layer of goosebumps traveled across his skin.

He took a long drag, the ember of the joint glowing in the dark. He gently ran his thumb over his shiny cockhead, sending waves of pleasure through his body. He bit back a groan at the incredible sensation.

He wasn't fantasizing about anything in particular, just basking in the moonlight and letting all the thoughts from the day go, exhaling them with the smoke that escaped his lips. His eyes fluttered shut, and he tossed his head back as he relaxed into the beautiful feeling.

The sounds of the night were soothing, the wind rustling through the trees, the distant music of windchimes clanking together, and Chris' occasional moans of delight. He took another puff from the nearly-spent joint, burning his lips on the roach as he pulled from it.

His chest rose and fell at a quickening pace, and his calm, slow breaths turned into a fervent panting as he started to approach the edge. His mind began to wander to places he'd been trying to avoid. You. He secretly loved your crass personality, your dry sense of humor, and how sexy you were.

He remembered the way your legs looked in that dress you wore earlier. He remembered the perfect curve of your back, imagining how it would look arched in front of him. A coy smile played into his expression when he recalled the way you'd stammered your way through your sentence when he accused you of thinking about him doing this very thing.

Before he could decide whether it was wrong or not to be entertaining a fantasy about you while his girlfriend was asleep in her room beneath him, he started picturing you in some skimpy lingerie sprawled out on your bed. In his imagination, he was on top of you, parting your legs with his knee and running his fingers across your soft skin.

"Chris," he imagined the sound of the wind whistling faintly was you hissing his name between your teeth. He fantasized about the way you'd moan into his mouth as he kisses you and how your body would tighten and squirm as you take what he gives you.

Your name passed through his lips as the motion of his hand sped up, stroking his sensitive cock at an ungodly pace as he pictured you letting go beneath him, your whole being trembling under his touch.

He felt it in his stomach first - that familiar ache, the building tension, and finally the release.

"Fuck," he lustfully whispered to himself. His eyes rolled back in his head, and he pulled his eyebrows together in a look of pure gratification. His cock twitched in his grasp, squirting his pearly white substance all over his exposed stomach and his hand.

He let the sensation overtake him, pleasure rippling through his core and flooding his brain with pure, unfiltered satisfaction as he drained himself. He left his body, becoming one with the stars, one with the moon, and one with the night all before his consciousness floated back down like a feather. He felt at peace.

He felt the joint he pinched in his grasp start to burn the pads of his fingers before he finally put it out. He tucked himself back into his jeans, buttoning them up, and fastening his belt. He stuck his glock back into his waistband, the cool metal contrasting against his warm skin.

He laid in silence for a few moments, enjoying the thrill of being high and the post-orgasmic bliss that lingered in his body for several minutes after. He felt his whole being buzzing with dopamine and adrenaline, two things that didn't come to him as easily since living the fast life.

The thoughts he'd had about you in the midst of his climax almost surprised him. It was the first time he'd allowed his mind to go there without shutting the thought down before it had a chance to play out.

Once his breath returned to normal and he felt like he could stand again, he found his way from the roof to the cinderblock wall on the side of the house and finally, his converse hit the grass beneath him.

He climbed out of his damp clothes that he had sweat in and that had been rained on throughout the night and crawled into bed next to his girlfriend. He was careful not to wake her, shifting around meticulously as he glanced over at her pretty face glowing in the moonlight.

He knew that you were right, that he had to tell Daisy what he was really doing for work, but in that moment when he looked at her, he had a sinking feeling in his stomach. He just knew she wouldn't stay if she found out, and he knew that she certainly wouldn't stay if she'd known about what he'd just done while thinking about another woman.

Guilt kept him awake, staring at the ceiling fan for the next hour or so until exhaustion took its place, finally allowing him to drift off to sleep.

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[andy-15-07]

Say Yes to Forever

PAIRING:Pedro Pascal x reader

WORD COUNT: 1697| requests are open (send requests, I will gladly answer them all)

Pedro Pascal Masterlist

Warning: smut.

The restaurant hummed with quiet elegance, the dim candlelight flickering against the polished wood of the intimate booth Pedro had reserved. A soft jazz tune played in the background, mingling with the quiet murmur of other diners, but for Pedro, the world had shrunk down to the woman sitting across from him. Y/N. Seven years together, and still, looking at her made his heart stutter like it had the first time.

She was laughing softly at something he had said, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. The warmth of her gaze, the ease in the way she leaned toward him—it all felt like home. Pedro curled his fingers around his glass of wine, hiding the slight tremor in his hands. He had played warriors, kings, lovers, and villains, but nothing had ever made him as nervous as the tiny velvet box tucked inside his jacket pocket.

“You’re being weird,” Y/N said suddenly, narrowing her eyes at him with an amused smile. “You keep staring at me like I’m about to disappear.”

Pedro let out a soft chuckle, tilting his head as he considered her. “Can’t a man admire his beautiful girlfriend?”

She rolled her eyes but couldn’t quite hide the pleased flush creeping up her neck. “That’s not admiration, that’s—” She squinted at him playfully. “That’s plotting. What’s going on, Pascal?”

Damn, she knew him too well.

He cleared his throat, trying to play it off. “Maybe I just want to soak in the moment. Seven years, cariño.” His voice softened. “Do you remember our first date?”

Y/N’s expression shifted into something more tender, her eyes glimmering in the candlelight. “Of course I do. You were late.”

Pedro groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “Are you ever going to let that go?”

“Nope.” She grinned. “You were twenty minutes late, and I was convinced you had ghosted me.”

“I was filming, and you know it.”

“Yeah, yeah,” she teased, lifting her wine glass to take a sip. “But then you showed up, all flustered and apologetic, and I decided to give you a chance.”

He smirked. “Lucky me.”

She reached across the table, lacing her fingers with his. “Yeah. Lucky us.”

Pedro felt his throat tighten. Seven years of stolen mornings, late-night conversations, endless laughter, and the kind of love that made him believe in forever. And tonight, he was going to ask her for exactly that.

His hand brushed against the ring box in his pocket, his pulse kicking up a notch.

It was time.

He took a steadying breath and smiled at her, his thumb brushing over her knuckles. "You know, I still can't believe you said yes to that second date."

Y/N chuckled, squeezing his hand. "You were persistent. And charming. And maybe a little bit of a mess."

"A little?" Pedro laughed, shaking his head. "I was a total mess. But you stuck around."

"Of course I did," she murmured, tilting her head. "You're my person, Pedro."

His heart swelled. "And you're mine."

The waiter approached with their dessert, a beautifully plated chocolate soufflé, but Pedro barely noticed. His focus was on her, on the love shining in her eyes. He inhaled deeply, shifting in his seat.

"Actually, there's something I've been meaning to ask you," he started, his voice thick with emotion. His fingers slid into his pocket, closing around the velvet box. "Something really important."

Y/N arched a brow, setting her fork down. "Oh?"

Pedro exhaled a shaky breath and slowly pulled out the box, placing it between them on the table. The world seemed to still around them, everything fading except for the two of them and the moment that had been seven years in the making.

Her eyes widened, her lips parting slightly. "Pedro..."

He pushed the box toward her, then slid off his seat and onto one knee, right there in the middle of the restaurant. A hush fell over the surrounding tables, but Pedro only saw her.

"Y/N," he began, his voice raw with emotion. "For seven years, you've been my best friend, my safe place, my greatest love. I can't imagine my life without you. I don't want to imagine it."

Tears welled in her eyes, a soft, disbelieving laugh escaping her lips.

He flipped open the box, revealing the delicate ring he'd spent months choosing, making sure it was perfect for her. "Marry me, cariño?"

For a moment, she was utterly still. Then, a radiant smile broke across her face, tears slipping down her cheeks. She let out a shaky laugh, nodding fervently. "Yes! Yes, Pedro, of course!"

The restaurant erupted in quiet applause, but Pedro barely heard it. He slid the ring onto her finger, hands trembling, before pulling her into his arms. Their lips met in a kiss, warm and full of promise, sealing the moment forever.

As they pulled away, Y/N cupped his face, eyes shining. "I love you, Pedro."

He grinned, pressing his forehead against hers. "I love you more. Always."

The drive home was quiet, filled with lingering glances and intertwined fingers resting on Pedro’s lap. The streetlights painted golden streaks across Y/N’s skin, her engagement ring catching the glow every time she moved. He kept sneaking looks at her, grinning like a fool, his heart impossibly full.

As soon as they stepped into their home, Pedro reached for her, pulling her close. Music played softly from a speaker in the corner, something slow and familiar. He didn’t say a word, just took her hand and led her into the living room, swaying with her in the dim light.

Y/N rested her head against his chest, her arms wrapping around his shoulders. “You’re really romantic when you want to be,” she murmured, her voice thick with emotion.

Pedro chuckled, pressing a kiss to her temple. “Only for you.”

They danced like that for a while, lost in each other. Every touch, every breath, every whispered ‘I love you’ was a promise of forever. And when he finally lifted her into his arms, carrying her upstairs, the night took on a different kind of tenderness.

In their bedroom, under the soft glow of the bedside lamp, Pedro traced his fingers along her skin, memorizing every inch of her. There was no rush, only devotion in the way he touched her, kissed her, loved her. He unbuttoned her dress slowly, his eyes never leaving hers. The fabric whispered to the floor, revealing her delicate lace bra. He paused, his breath catching in his throat, and gently unclasped it. Y/N reached up and unbuttoned his shirt, her fingers tracing the line of his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart beneath his skin.

He pulled her close, their bodies flush against each other. His lips found hers in a slow, lingering kiss that deepened with every passing moment, a silent conversation of love and desire. He moved his hand down her back, cupping her bottom and pulling her closer still, their bodies molding together. She moaned softly against his lips, her fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him closer. He lifted her onto the bed, following her down, his gaze never breaking hers. He kissed her neck, his breath warm against her skin, then moved lower, his lips tracing a path down her chest, igniting a fire within her. She arched into him, meeting his gaze with a look of pure desire.

Pedro took his time, savoring every inch of her as if he were memorizing her all over again. His lips ghosted over her collarbone, down the valley between her breasts, before he took one hardened peak into his mouth, his tongue circling, teasing. She gasped, her back arching as his hands roamed lower, gripping her thighs, pulling them apart as he settled between them. His kisses grew more fervent, more insistent as he traced a path lower, his mouth exploring her in ways that made her whimper, her fingers digging into the sheets.

“You taste so sweet,” he murmured against her skin, his voice husky. “I could stay here all night, making you fall apart over and over again.”

She moaned, her breath shaky. “Pedro… please.”

He smirked against her thigh, his fingers teasing her, making her hips lift instinctively. “Tell me what you want, querida.”

“I want you,” she gasped. “Inside me. Now.”

He moved back up, kissing her deeply, letting her taste herself on his lips. “You want me to fill you up?” he whispered against her mouth, his hands gripping her thighs, pressing her into the mattress. “You want me to fuck you so good you won’t be able to think straight?”

“Yes,” she moaned, her nails raking down his back. “I need you, Pedro.”

“You have me,” he growled, lining himself up with her. “Always.”

He entered her slowly, savoring the moment, their eyes locked, a silent exchange of love and longing. She gasped, her nails digging into his back, her legs wrapping around his waist, pulling him deeper. He began to move, slowly at first, then faster, their bodies moving together in a rhythm as old as time, a dance of passion and surrender. Moans filled the room, mingling with the soft music playing in the background, a symphony of desire. He kissed her deeply, his hand stroking her hair, his touch both tender and demanding.

“God, you feel so good,” he groaned, his pace quickening, pushing deeper, hitting all the right places. “So perfect for me.”

She cried out, her hands gripping his shoulders. “Harder, Pedro.”

His jaw clenched, his movements becoming rougher, more desperate, chasing both of their highs. “You’re mine, baby,” he gritted out. “All mine.”

“Yes,” she gasped, her body arching as pleasure overwhelmed her. “Yours.”

The sensations intensified, wave after wave washing over them, building to a crescendo, a moment of pure ecstasy, a shared release. He held her tightly as they both shattered, clinging to each other, their breaths mingling in the quiet aftermath.

When they finally lay tangled together, breathless and content, the silence was filled with unspoken words, with the weight of their love and commitment. Pedro kissed her bare shoulder, whispering, “Forever.”

Y/N smiled sleepily, pressing a kiss to his chest. “Forever.”

[blueberrisdove-sideblog]

༄.°🧅. BOXER MYDEI HEADCANONS

𝓼𝔂𝓷𝓸𝓹𝓼𝓲𝓼 : After a brutal, sweat-drenched match that left his knuckles sore and his opponent crumpled on the mat, Mydei stood victorious, the roar of the crowd fading into the pounding of your heart. His body, still tense with adrenaline, radiated heat as he pulled you into the dimly lit locker room, his gaze heavy with something far more intense than the fight he just won. The scent of sweat and leather clung to his skin as he pressed you against the cool metal lockers, hands rough yet deliberate, claiming you with the same relentless force that secured his victory in the ring.

𝔀𝓪𝓻𝓷𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓼 : nsfw/smut [MDNI], vaginal, cum cum…balls….big dick Mydei, p*ssy slapping, size kink, f*cking in the locker room, p*ssy eating, crying during s*x, after-care, holding orgasm, spanking, breeding kink & other stuff.

Boxer!Mydei Who is incredibly disciplined in the ring, his body a perfect blend of muscle and agility. Every punch, every movement, calculated with the precision of someone who’s been trained for years. Despite the brutality of his sport, he’s all focus, a determined look always in his eyes as he secures another victory.

Boxer!Mydei Who is quiet and reserved outside the ring, the kind of person who enjoys the calm after a storm. Once the fight is over, he seeks you out, a rare, genuine smile breaking through his usual stoic demeanor. His victories are never as sweet without you to share them with, and his touch is soft as he pulls you into his arms. “You’re so cute baby.” He mutters as he rests his chin your your head.

Boxer!Mydei Who isn’t shy about his needs once he’s alone with you. After winning a tough match, he’s not one for small talk—he’d rather show you how much he missed you during those hours spent fighting. His hands are rough, but when they’re on you, they’re steady and gentle, slowly undressing you as his eyes never leave yours.

Boxer!Mydei Who spreads your thighs while you both are in the locker room, eating you out. His tongue swirls around your clit, as you gasped softly. While he entered one of his fingers in your pussy.

Boxer!Mydei who forces you to hold your Orgasm and not allow you to cum, making tears streamed down your cheeks and beg for release.

Boxer!Mydei who finally lets you cum all over his fingers, giving a sharp slap on your pussy with your hand. Takes our fingers and slowly slides his cock in your entrance. His hips slapping against your ass, as your eyes rolls back. “Feels so good, doesn’t doll-face? Look at your face all fucked up just for me. And only for me.”

Boxer!Mydei Who loses all self-control when he's deep inside you, the heat of the fight still burning in his veins. His hands grip your hips possessively, holding you in place as he thrusts into you, his voice rough with a mix of love and pure, unfiltered desire. "You'd look so perfect carrying my child," he murmurs, pressing kisses along your jaw as he moves faster, deeper, desperate to fill you completelv.

Boxer!Mydei Who gets impossibly turned on at the thought of you swollen with his child, the idea making him snap-his movements growing more deliberate, more intense. "Gonna make sure you're mine in every way," he groans, pressing a hand against your lower stomach, as if he's already imagining the life he wants to put inside you.

Boxer!Mydei Who groans when he sees the way your body takes him so perfectly, his hands pressing firmly against your hips to keep you in place. His eyes darken as he leans down, his breath warm against your ear. "You want it too, don't you?" His voice is teasing, but there's a deeper need behind it. He watches your reaction closely, and the second you whimper his name, his control shatters-his pace becoming rougher, more deliberate, as he chases the thought of filling you up completely.

Boxer!Mydei Who, after the release, holds you close in the aftermath. He runs his fingers through your hair, whispering sweet words of praise in your ear. "I’ll always fight for you." Even if he’s a fighter in the ring, it’s you he’s fighting for, and when he pulls you in for a final kiss, it’s full of softness and devotion.

Boxer!Mydei Who whispers in your ear while still catching his breath, his voice husky from both the fight and what he just did to you. “You take care of me better than any championship ever could.” His fingers trace lazy circles on your skin, his body still warm from the adrenaline, refusing to let you go even as exhaustion starts to settle in.

© 2024-2025 blueberrisdove-sideblog all rights reserved. pretty please, do not steal my dividers, translate and plagiarize any of my works, or either repost my works in any other platform without asking, thank you!

[wqnwoos]

cw — alcohol mentions, reader wears makeup

you’re drunk and you’re annoyed, which is never a good combination, because it makes it that much harder for jeonghan to take you home. 

more specifically, you’re annoyed with him, which you’d told him through slightly slurred words and a finger to his chest the moment you saw him at seungcheol’s birthday party.

(“i’m really pissed,” you’d announced, and clarified, “at you. yoon jeonghan.” and then had returned to the party like you didn’t just make his heart sink to his stomach.)

jeonghan can think of two reasons why you’d be annoyed at him. one — you’ve worked out that he was the one who ate your favourite snack during movie night with your friends last week. or two — you’re mad about what happened yesterday.

to be honest, he knows which one it is, because there’s no way you worked out he ate your sour patch kids. he planted the evidence on seungkwan. but more than that, he’s focussed on trying to get you through the door of your apartment, so he stores the thought for later, and grabs your flailing arm to walk you inside.

“i’m not drunk,” you say, the moment your front door is shut. you scowl at him. “so you can go home now.”

jeonghan only sighs a little, reaching to take your bag from you. 

“no!” you pull away, still frowning, but you pull away. you’ve never pulled away from him, not like that, and it leaves jeonghan speechless for a moment. pricks him in a place where it hurts.

“i’m mad at you,” you remind him, shaking off your shoes. 

“you pulled away,” jeonghan says dumbly, still rooted to the spot. 

for some reason, that makes you scoff, and you turn on your heel, marching towards your room, calling over your shoulder — “well, you’d know all about pulling away, wouldn’t you, yoon jeonghan?”

well. if he hadn’t been sure before, he’d be sure now. he can’t do much else other than sigh and follow you, watching in silence as you fish out your pyjamas and shut yourself in the bathroom to change. 

he gives in when you come out, just as you start taking off your jewellery with excessive force. “okay, why don’t you just tell me why you’re mad?”

you cast him a dirty look through the mirror of your dresser. “you know why.” you take off your rings, placing them on the wood a little too hard — “or is that just what we do now? making out and never talking about it?” another ring comes off as you force a bitter kind of cheeriness into your tone. “because that’s great! that’s absolutely fucking fine!”

jeonghan leans against the wall, his face dropping into a frown as he watches you. “i’m sorry.”

“sorry for what? since we’re not talking about it.” you’re taking off your makeup now, running the wipes harshly over your face — too harshly, so jeonghan comes over and takes it out your hand before you can stop him.

carefully, slowly, jeonghan wipes over your forehead, across your cheeks and over the bridge of your nose. he tries to be gentle, and you don’t say anything, just blink at him owlishly — all your anger dissipated, at least for the moment. 

“jeonghan,” you say quietly, and suddenly your eyes are wet, and he’s reminded that you’re not completely sober. “what are you doing?”

“hey,” he says, suddenly alarmed, hand cupping your cheek, setting the makeup wipe down, “don’t cry. why are you — ”

“i’m not crying! my eyes are just wet, okay?”

there’s a long moment where he stands with his hand on your cheek, you leaning into his touch, and then you’re asking again, soft — “jeonghan, what are you doing?”

“apologising,” he breathes, and then he’s running a thumb over your cheek. “i’m sorry. about yesterday. about leaving right after — after we kissed.”

your lips protrude in what he can only call a pout. “you didn’t even text.”

“i know,” he murmurs. “i wanted to. i thought — ”

“am i a bad kisser or something?” you demand through a yawn, and then you’re rambling again, a mixture of nervousness and alcohol. “because you kind of caught me by surprise, you know, and i wasn’t really ready and i just — i didn’t know if you were kissing me for the same reason i was kissing you — or if you were just… bored.”

somehow, jeonghan manages a laugh. “___, i don’t kiss people because i’m bored. i kiss them when i like them.”

“so then…” you trail off before you ask the actual question, but jeonghan can see it in your eyes, and he thinks he can see something else too. something that makes his heart do a funny little swoop, makes him crack the slightest of smiles. the weight that’s been pressing into his ribs since yesterday is gone, because one look into your eyes and jeonghan suddenly knows what he couldn’t tell yesterday.

“exactly what you’re thinking,” he says, letting go of your face when he observes your drooping eyes. “but maybe we should talk about this in the morning. if you still remember.”

you don’t say anything, but your eyes sparkle with sudden clarity, like you’ve realised the same thing he’s realised, and you wrap your arms around him for the briefest, sweetest moment.

and then you’re pulling away, but this time jeonghan doesn’t mind as much, because you look him in the eyes and give him a smile that could very well be a piece of heaven.

“i’ll remember,” you promise. “as long as you don’t run away again, i’ll remember.”

prompt from this prompt list !!!

an / guys honestly this may be incoherent because i’m so sleepy and i had motivation to write this but nowhere near enough motivation to proofread. it might not even make any sense. in fact i apologise for this piece because i don’t think it’s worth reading but if you’re reading the author’s note at the bottom i’m going to assume you’ve already read it. sorry

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[beef-brisket]

Adam sat still, not knowing what to do. He's never been good at comforting people. And the last time Lucifer was angry, it didn't end well for his face.

Lucifer: After everything... Everything I did for her...

-

Charlie went to see her father and Adam in the recording room, but she hadn't heard from him, and she usually does when Heaven contacts him.

When she saw Adam outside leaning against the wall, she knew something was wrong.

Charlie: Adam?

Adam looked up: Hey, kid.

Charlie: Uh... is dad in there-?

Adam: Yeah, you might want to wait a minute, he's raging.

Charlie's eyes widen: Raging?! About what-? Heaven?

Adam: Uh... kind of? Look, he wouldn't want you to see him like that, so... maybe give him an hour.

Suddenly, a chair got thrown through the door, breaking it off the hinges, making Charlie scream.

Adam: Okay, make that a couple of hours.

Charlie: W-What happened?

Adam: Uh... he should probably tell you, kid. It's not my place.

Charlie sighed. Just when everything was going great, something had to happen to send her father off the deepend.

Charlie: Wait- He didn't hurt you, did he?

Adam laughed: Nah, babe. I wasn't the one who pissed him off. I uh... just don't know how to comfort people very well, so it's better I just leave him to it.

When Lucifer walked out of the room, he straightened his suit. But when he saw Charlie, he jumped.

Lucifer: Charlie?! Oh- hi, sweetie! Uh- Adam-.

Adam: I told her to go, man. But she's worried about you.

Lucifer: A-About me? Oh, Char! Everything is fine! I swear! Just uh... some news came to light.

Charlie: News? What news?

Getting that uncomfortable feeling, Adam excused himself and went back into the recording room and started to clean up the mess. He hates cleaning, but he hates awkward conversations more.

Lucifer sighed and held Charlie's hands: Charlie... that letter was from your mother.

Charlie: Mom?! Really-?! What did she say?

Lucifer: ...H-here.

Digging into his jacket, Lucifer pulled out Lilith's ring. Only then did Charlie see Lucifer's bare finger.

Charlie: Oh... oh, dad. I'm so sorry.

The Hotel Yard

Adam: So, Lucifer hadn't heard this yet but there is an AI version of our show already.

Lucifer: Shit, okay.

AI Lucifer: Hello everyone I'm with my co-host Adam. And might I say you look like you've escaped from a mental institution.

Adam: So already you start off with insulting me

Lucifer: Yeah but we take turns

Adam: Giving blows to each other

Lucifer: Yeah we take turns blowing each other.

Adam: HAHAHA!!

AI Adam: That's not nice Lu

AI Lucifer: No, but you want to know something else? We're gay for each other.

Lucifer: What!? Hahaha!

Adam: Fucking Jesus hahaha!

I love these goobers so much 😂

AI Adam: We love recording this podcast. But our fathers hate us.

Lucifer and Adam nearly die if laughing.

Lucifer: W-What the fuck?!

Adam: It's not fucking wrong, dude!

[a-not-so-clean-blog]

Nu carnival markings ♦️

Yakumo

You'll have to ask a few times before you'll do anything. The only stipulation is no biting. He's so afraid his teeth will be too sharp. That he'll hurt you. That you'll hate him for it. So he leaves soft hisses until you give him those big puppy eyes he's weak to. Then he'll give you hickeys. Tiny ones that last maybe 3 days, and peppers them all over. He makes them easy to hide if you want, but he blushes every time he sees one.

Edmond

You have to BEG him to mark you. Eventually he will give in. You don't even have to be in the bedroom when your nagging finally makes him snap. He grabs your forearm tight, and brings your wrists up. Chomping down to leave a mean looking mark right on your pulse point. He sounds angry, scolding you for harassing a knight on duty, but you can see the slight pink on his ears as he suppresses a blush.

Olivine

Any marks he leaves on you are completely accidental. Mostly bruises from his fingertips. He's so strong that sometimes in the heat of the moment he can't help but grab a little too hard. If he sees the marks while you're still fucking he'll mumble dumbly about how beautiful they look on you. His voice reverent. Though if he notices them after, his post nut clarity will make him feel so guilty. He will kiss each one to make them feel better.

Quincy

He doesn't usually let himself get carried away enough to mark you. However, on the rare occasion that he does, you're going to have a massive bite mark on your throat. Not the meaty parts. I mean throat. One set of teeth on either jugular, with your windpipe in between. He loves it. You look so good bearing his mark. Like it fulfills something so primal and pure inside him. He'll leave bites in other places too. Convenient places where he doesn't get a chance to think before chomping down. Your shoulder, maybe your leg as it's hooked over his shoulder, your hand that was resting on his shoulder a moment ago…

Kuya

He will be that jerk who leaves a hickey right under your jawline. Super visible and impossible to hide. He does it to annoy you mostly. Now, if somehow he gives in to that urge to mark an actual claim on you, you won't notice him bite the base of your nape, but you'll feel it every time you move your head. A constant reminder, subtle as it is. He'll deny it means anything. Unfortunately the only ones who will know what it really means are Quincy and Karu, so he's a little cautious when they come around. Not that you notice the slight edge he gets because he hides it so well. He can't have you knowing just how much you mean to him.

Blade

He read in a book that people bite the crux of the neck and shoulder. So he does. Not hard, but with shark teeth like his it really doesn't take much to leave a deep mark. He likes watching hickeys turn colors on your skin. Says it's so pretty! And that the sounds you make are so cute! Of course he thinks it's cute. This is still Blade we're talking about.

Garu

Scratches all down your back. His teeth ache to sink into you, but he's so scared to hurt you. Instead leaving thin red marks like rivers on the landscape of your back. Maybe some on your chest. Or really anywhere that he grabs for purchase.

Karu

Anywhere he can. Seriously. It's part of his wolf nature to want to mark and claim his mate. Lots of bites of varying depth and location. Some are even hard enough to draw blood. He'll lick the wounds clean later, or at least Garu will. He's so proud when you walk around with his bites visible, and gets mad when you try to cover them up. Seriously, don't try to cover all of them unless you want him jealous and giving you more in spots you can't hide.

Dante

He won't leave any marks on you until he is smitten, but of course he will never admit it. So one day when he's sucking your fingers so he can watch you prep yourself, he just gives a little nibble. Okay, maybe not little. Hard enough to leave a deep imprint of his teeth around the base of your ring finger. He claims it means nothing, but every time he looks at it his stomach twists with the words he wishes he could say.

Rei

He doesn't really have a preference where he marks you. So for a while he'll mark multiple spots. See where you like it best. Eventually he does enjoy it. The way it makes you gasp and squirm. The way your fingers ghost over the marks for days after. Who would have thought something so small could get so many interesting reactions.

Eiden

Can't go wrong with a classic hickey on the collar bone! He's respectful enough to ask before leaving anything in a visible location, but once he gets permission he gets that fucking smirk on his face. He's so teasing with it. Licking and asking if this is where you want the next one. Going so agonizingly slow. Afterwards he massages the areas so it doesn't hurt as much. He likes the action of marking rather than the marks themselves.

Aster

Bites on the neck? I mean, yeah. That kinda comes with the territory of being a vampire. He's less territorial than some of the others, and says he doesn't care if you cover up his marks. While it's true he may not be as possessive as say Dante, Kuya, or Karu, he still gets fussy when you intentionally cover his bites. Makes him feel like you're rejecting him in an intimate way that he doesn't really understand or want to confront.

Morvay

He LOVES leaving hickeys on your upper inner thighs, and your lower stomach. Framing his favorite part of your body. He likes being the only one to see all the marks, but he also loves when your shirt rides up and he, and others, just get a tiny peek at the marks he left on you.

[kaiyunsim]

best lover —

pairing : bf!taesan x gn!reader

summary : after taesan works hard for the newest comeback you wanted to get him a gift... something perfect. but you don't know what exactly to get him so you get help from his roommate.

warnings : fluff, angst (just a little bit), tense confrontation, some music references, taesan gets kinda jealous, kind of a continuation of this fic

a/n : this lowkey made me relapse into the emo/punk genre and now i'm actively listening to them again ! taesan so silly here.

queueing : best lover - bibi, and july - heize + dean

[requested]

— wc : 4.8k — not proof read —

you’ve always known taesan was cool.

not in the tryhard way, not in the way people force an image to seem untouchable. no, he’s effortlessly cool. the kind of cool that comes from simply existing, from being so unapologetically himself that it draws people in.

his aesthetic is proof of that—dark clothes, silver rings, an ever-growing collection of band tees that he claims aren’t a collection but still seem to multiply every time you see him. his playlists are filled with gritty guitar riffs and melancholic lyrics, songs that feel like they belong in a coming-of-age film.

you love it. you love the way he leans against walls like a movie character, the way his fingers tap out drum beats on tables when he’s lost in thought. the way his voice gets softer when he talks about music, when he lets his guard down just enough for you to see the warmth underneath.

so, when their comeback is finally announced, when you see the hours of training, late-night rehearsals, and exhaustion culminate into something incredible, you know you need to do something. something that says, i see you. i see how hard you’ve worked, and i’m proud of you.

but what do you get someone like taesan?

he’s never been the type to want extravagant gifts. he shrugs off praise, mumbles “it’s nothing” when people tell him he’s done well. but you know he keeps every little note fans give him, that he still has the random trinkets the members bought him over the years.

so it has to be something personal. something that actually means something.

you think about it for days, running through ideas in your head. clothes? no, too easy. he already has everything he likes. accessories? maybe, but he’s picky, and you don’t trust yourself to pick out something he’d actually wear.

and then it hits you.

vinyls.

taesan loves music in a way that’s deeper than just listening. he collects records, always talking about how certain albums sound different on vinyl, how the warmth and crackle make it feel more alive. you’ve seen the way he runs his fingers over the covers, the way he carefully places them on his turntable like he’s handling something sacred.

but you don’t know enough about it.

you know the bands he listens to, sure, but not the specific pressings, not which editions are worth having, not which ones he’s been searching for. you need help.

so, you text the only person who would know and would be the most help.

sungho.

—

you: hey, random question, but do you think you could help me with something?

he replies almost immediately.

sungho: depends. am i gonna regret saying yes?

you snort. typical.

you: no, it’s for taesan. i wanna get him some vinyls, but i don’t know which ones he’d actually want.

a pause. then—

sungho: oh. you’re going ot make him a happy boyfriend for sure. sungho: yeah, i can help. you free tomorrow?

relief washes over you.

you: yeah. thanks, sungho. seriously.

sungho: don’t thank me yet. wait till we actually find something good.

you smile, pocketing your phone.

this is a good plan. a perfect plan.

now, you just have to keep it a secret.

the next morning, you wake up with a nervous excitement buzzing under your skin.

taesan is still half-asleep when you see him, his hair messy from sleep, the collar of his oversized shirt slipping down one shoulder. he looks soft like this, different from his usual sharp edges and guarded expressions.

“morning,” you say, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek before he can grumble in protest.

he mumbles something incoherent, eyes still closed, before reaching out and lazily wrapping an arm around your waist, pulling you closer.

you laugh, poking his side. “i have to go out for a bit.”

that wakes him up a little. his eyes blink open, groggy but alert. “where?”

you freeze for half a second before forcing yourself to play it cool. “just running errands.”

his brow furrows slightly, but he doesn’t question it. instead, he just tightens his grip around you for a moment before letting go.

“be safe,” he mumbles, voice still thick with sleep.

your heart squeezes at that.

you brush his hair out of his face, letting your fingers linger for a second longer than necessary. “always.”

—

meeting up with sungho feels like a mission.

he’s already waiting outside the taesan's dorm room, dressed casually but still effortlessly put together, a stark contrast to the slightly chaotic energy you’re bringing with you.

“you look nervous,” he says, amused.

“because i am.”

he raises an eyebrow. “it’s just vinyl shopping.”

“yeah, but it’s for taesan,” you stress. “i can’t mess this up. i need to find something perfect.”

sungho rolls his eyes but leads the way inside the vinyl store, hidden in the corners of the busy streets.

the moment you step in, you’re overwhelmed.

rows and rows of records stretch out in front of you, organized into sections you barely understand. the store smells like old paper and something nostalgic, a quiet hum of music playing from the speakers.

sungho glances at you. “you know what bands he likes, right?”

you nod. “yeah, but i don’t know what he already has.”

“then we start with the basics.”

he guides you through the aisles, pointing out albums that fit taesan’s taste. some are obvious bands you’ve seen on his playlists, artists you recognize from the posters in his room. others, not so much.

“this one’s a classic,” sungho says, pulling out a worn-looking album. “he’s mentioned it before, i think he even has a t-shirt of them.”

it was the black parade by my chemical romance

you take it from him, running your fingers over the cover. “do you think he already has the vinyl?”

sungho shakes his head. “nah, he would’ve bragged about it if he did.”

you smile at that. taesan isn’t the bragging type, not really, but when it comes to things he loves, he can’t help but share them with you. you can already picture the way his eyes will light up when he sees the gift, the way he’ll trace the album cover with careful fingers before hugging you in that quiet, deliberate way of his.

this is good. this is exactly what you wanted.

you glance at sungho. “i think we’re on the right track.”

he smirks. “told you.”

you roll your eyes but can’t hide your grin.

this is going to be perfect.

if you can keep it a secret long enough.

you flip through the stacks carefully, the plastic sleeves crinkling under your fingertips as you skim the selection. rows of album covers stare back at you, some bold and vibrant, others muted and mysterious, each one a different piece of someone’s story.

sungho stands beside you, already pulling out records with ease, flipping them over to check editions and pressings like it’s second nature.

“how do you even know all this?” you ask, watching as he inspects a black-and-white cover, his eyes narrowing slightly before he shakes his head and puts it back.

he smirks. “taesan’s not the only one with taste, you know.”

you roll your eyes. “yeah, but you act like this is your second home.”

he hums, running his fingers along the edge of a shelf. “it kinda is. when i first moved into the dorms, i’d come to places like this just to kill time. got to know a lot about music that way.”

that makes sense. sungho has that effortless, older-brother energy, the kind that makes you feel like he’s always been one step ahead of everyone else. but even so, you know there’s more to it. something about the way he says it, like music was a comfort rather than just a hobby.

you glance down at the album in your hands. the artwork is dramatic, painted in deep reds and blacks, the kind of thing you could easily imagine taesan leaving out on his desk just because it looks cool. it was titled a fever you can’t sweat out this time, by panic at the disco

you hesitate. “what about this one?”

sungho looks over, and to your relief, he nods in approval. “solid pick. taesan likes them. they have that whole raw, gritty sound he’s into.”

you exhale, setting it aside in the growing pile of vinyls you’ve picked out. “good. i was kinda guessing.”

sungho snickers. “if you were completely guessing, you would’ve picked something embarrassing.”

you give him a flat look. “i wouldn’t do that.”

“you sure? no boyband vinyls hidden in that stack?”

“why are you acting like that would be a crime?”

he laughs, shaking his head. “nah, but taesan would probably combust.”

you grin at the thought. he probably would. his whole tough, brooding image crumbling the second someone dared to associate him with anything remotely bright and upbeat. you’ve teased him about it before, played pop songs in his presence just to watch him pretend he wasn’t listening.

but this isn’t about teasing him. this is about him.

you glance around the store, taking in the dim lighting, the faint sound of a record spinning in the background. a few other customers linger nearby, flipping through vinyls with the same careful reverence, but none of them seem rushed. it’s the kind of place taesan would get lost in, taking his time with every shelf, soaking in the atmosphere.

you wish he was here.

you shake the thought away before it can settle too deep.

“okay,” you say, straightening up. “i think i need at least one more.”

sungho scans the shelves before reaching over and pulling out a record without hesitation.

“this.”

you take it from him, studying the cover. it’s striking… american idiot by greenday.

“he’s been looking for this one,” sungho explains. “i remember him complaining about how it’s always out of stock.”

your chest warms. “then that’s perfect.”

sungho grins. “congrats, you officially have a good gift… or multiple”

you roll your eyes but can’t help but smile. “thanks for the approval.”

“anytime.”

you head to the counter, placing the records down carefully as the cashier rings them up. the prices make you wince a little. vinyl collecting is not cheap. but you don’t hesitate. taesan is worth it.

when you step back outside, the air feels cooler, a slight breeze brushing against your skin. sungho stretches beside you, squinting up at the sky.

“so,” he says. “how are you planning to give it to him?”

you blink. “uh. just... give it to him?”

he gives you a flat look. “you’re really bad at this.”

“excuse me?”

“c’mon,” he says. “you go through all this trouble, sneak around just to surprise him, and you’re just gonna hand it to him like it’s a bag of chips?”

you frown. “what am i supposed to do? make a scavenger hunt?”

“i mean, that would be funny.”

“sungho.”

he chuckles. “fine, fine. but at least make it a moment, you know? like, put them in a nice box or something. set the mood a little.”

you consider that. he’s right. you don’t just want this to be a casual exchange. you want taesan to feel how much this means.

“okay,” you say slowly. “i’ll think of something.”

sungho pats your shoulder. “good. because if you don’t, i’m telling him i helped.”

you gasp. “you wouldn’t.”

his grin is downright evil. “try me.”

you groan, shoving him lightly as he laughs.

but despite the teasing, there’s a warmth in your chest that wasn’t there before. because for all the effort, all the second-guessing, all the overthinking. you know this is the right thing to do.

you just hope taesan sees it that way, too.

you and sungho are now wandering the streets, bags in hand, the weight of them a constant reminder of what you're keeping from taesan. there's a knot in your stomach, anxiety creeping in at the thought of what will happen once you return to the dorm.

sungho notices you fidgeting with your phone, eyes flicking between your screen and the road ahead. "you've been checking your messages like every two seconds," he says with a knowing smile. "taesan giving you trouble?"

"i... i don’t know," you mutter, glancing at your phone again. "he hasn’t texted yet. i think he’s mad."

sungho snorts. "he’s always mad."

you roll your eyes but can't help the tension building inside you. it's not like taesan to be suspicious like this. sure, he's possessive at times, but you’ve always been upfront with him. today, though, everything feels off. you know he’s probably wondering where you are, especially after leaving so abruptly.

after a few more moments of walking, your phone buzzes in your hand. it’s a message from taesan.

you open it quickly, your heart dropping when you read the text.

taesan: where are you?

you can almost hear the frustration in his words, even though they’re so short. you hesitate for a moment, trying to figure out how to respond. the last thing you want is to reveal anything.

“everything okay?” sungho asks, glancing at you with a raised eyebrow.

“yeah,” you say quickly, typing back a response. "just... running… errands…"

you: just out. why?

you hit send and try to push the worry away. but it doesn’t help when your phone buzzes again, another message from taesan.

taesan: are you by yourself?

your stomach tightens. it feels like he’s fishing for something, trying to confirm his suspicions. you swallow hard. taesan doesn’t know you’re out with sungho. he probably thinks you’re just alone, maybe out with someone else. the thought of him jumping to conclusions makes you tense up.

“you need to tell him the truth, man,” sungho says, half-joking but still serious. “it’s gonna be hard to keep it up much longer.”

you bite your lip, looking at the text again. taesan doesn’t like being kept in the dark. but if you tell him you're out with sungho, there's no way you can keep the surprise a secret.

you: yeah, just me. out by myself.

you send the message quickly, almost immediately regretting it. the lie feels wrong in your gut, but you can’t risk ruining the surprise.

as soon as you hit send, another text from taesan comes through.

taesan: you didn’t tell me where you went. it’s weird, you know. don’t lie to me.

your heart sinks. this is exactly what you were afraid of. you can feel his frustration radiating through the words, even though they’re brief. taesan might not say it outright, but you know he’s pissed.

“is he mad?” sungho asks, eyes narrowing as he watches you.

“yeah,” you say quietly, looking at the screen again. “he thinks i’m lying.”

sungho tilts his head, his expression softening. “well, you kind of are...”

you groan, feeling guilty. “yeah, but if i tell him the truth, he’ll know what we’re really doing.”

sungho sighs but doesn’t press. “you’ve got to be careful, though. taesan can’t stand being lied to. he might feel like you’re hiding something else.”

you take a deep breath, trying to push the anxiety aside. “he’s just overthinking it. i’ll deal with it when we get back.”

you walk in silence for a bit longer, and the weight of the lie is starting to feel unbearable. but then your phone buzzes again. it’s from taesan.

taesan: riwoo just told me you’re out with sungho. why didn’t you say that?

your heart stops. it feels like everything is crashing down around you. of course, taesan would hear from riwoo. he always does. but you didn’t think it would happen so soon.

sungho laughs lightly, though it’s more nervous than anything else. “i mean, it’s not like you didn’t want him to find out.”

you stare at the message, feeling a mix of guilt and frustration. “he’s so mad now...”

“you better fix it,” sungho says with a small chuckle. “he’s gonna blow up on you if you keep avoiding the truth.”

you sigh, rubbing your eyes. “i don’t know how to fix it. i’ve already lied twice.”

“well,” sungho says, “maybe you just gotta... tell him the truth at this point. no more hiding.”

but you’re not ready to do that. not yet. the surprise is too important to mess up now.

you type out a message, your hands shaking a little as you try to keep it steady.

you: i’m sorry. we just bumped into eachothee

you press send, waiting for taesan’s response with bated breath.

it takes a while, but finally, your phone buzzes.

taesan: it was a coincidence?

you let out a sigh of relief. it's not as bad as it could have been, but you still feel like you’ve messed up.

you: yeah, i went out to grab some stuff, and boom, sungho was there getting some stuff for the dorm too

you wait for a reply, and when it comes, it’s still not as angry as you expected, but you can hear the frustration in taesan’s words.

taesan: you know, you could’ve just told me. i don’t like when you hide stuff from me.

your heart drops, and you feel guilty again. you want to explain yourself, but you’re afraid it’ll make everything worse.

“he’s really pissed now,” you say quietly to sungho, who nods sympathetically.

“you should’ve just told him earlier,” he says, though his tone is more playful than critical. “now you gotta go back and fix it.”

you take a deep breath, realizing sungho’s right. you’re going to have to deal with the fallout when you get back to the dorm.

you decide on sungho’s dorm since taesan is rooming with woonhak and jaehyun so it would be perfect to wrap his gift all together and put final touched on it.

but once you open the door, you stand frozen at the door of sungho’s dorm, heart hammering in your chest. the moment taesan walks in, everything about the room shifts. his presence fills the space, and even though he’s not saying anything yet, you feel the weight of his gaze.

“so, this is where you’ve been?” taesan’s voice cuts through the silence. it’s sharper than usual, colder too. he looks at you, then at sungho, his eyes narrowing. “i thought you said you were by yourself.”

you feel your breath catch in your throat. his words hit harder than expected, but you force a smile, trying to keep your cool. “i was… i mean, i am.”

taesan tilts his head, his eyes scanning you like he’s trying to figure out if you’re lying. you take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. “i just bumped into sungho, we were talking, and i guess riwoo saw us leave together.” you’re already regretting how this sounds, but you can’t back down now. you have to keep the lie intact.

“bumped into sungho?” taesan’s voice drips with suspicion. “so it’s just a coincidence you were both out together?”

you nod quickly, hoping he buys it. “yeah, we were just… talking, you know? nothing serious. i just didn’t want to bother you while you were busy.”

taesan crosses his arms, studying you with a sharp gaze. “that doesn’t sound right.”

the air between you two feels like it’s crackling with tension. you swallow hard, knowing you can’t let him get too suspicious. “it’s really nothing, taesan. you know i wouldn’t lie to you about this.”

“you wouldn’t, huh?” taesan says slowly, his tone soft but with a dangerous edge. “then why didn’t you just tell me? why go through all this just to cover up some… coincidence?”

you flinch slightly at his words, the guilt gnawing at you. but you won’t break. you can’t spoil the surprise now. not when everything is so close to being perfect.

“i didn’t want to bother you with the details,” you say, hoping he buys it. “i just figured i’d spend some time with sungho, that’s all.” you glance at sungho for a moment, but he’s standing still, like he’s unsure whether to step in.

taesan watches you for a long beat, and you can see the wheels turning in his mind. his expression hardens. “so you thought it’d be better to lie to me, to sneak around?”

your chest tightens, the weight of his words sinking in deeper than you expected. “taesan, it’s not like that.”

“really?” taesan’s voice rises, a hint of frustration creeping in. “because that’s exactly what it sounds like. i don’t know, it’s just hard to believe that you’re not hiding something. are you trying to cover something up?”

you feel your heart race. this is spiraling out of control, and you don’t know how to stop it. the last thing you want is for him to think you’re doing something behind his back.

“taesan, please,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper. “you’re overthinking this. i didn’t want to tell you because i didn’t want to make a big deal out of it.” you force yourself to look him in the eye, trying to convey sincerity. “it’s nothing, really.”

taesan doesn’t respond right away. he’s still standing there, arms crossed, eyes cold as he studies you. you feel like he’s dissecting every word you’ve said, trying to figure out if you’re being honest or not.

“so what, this is all just some coincidence?” taesan asks again, voice dripping with doubt. “you just happened to be with sungho, and riwoo just happened to see you leaving together?”

you nod quickly, trying to sound convincing. “yeah, that’s it. it’s just a coincidence, taesan.”

taesan lets out a long breath, his frustration simmering just under the surface. he doesn’t seem convinced, but he doesn’t push further. yet.

“you’re making this harder than it needs to be,” you say, trying to change the subject. “it’s nothing. seriously.”

taesan stays quiet, his eyes narrowing, still unconvinced. “i don’t know if i believe you, but fine. if you say so.”

there’s a moment of silence between you two, and you can almost feel the distance growing between you. you want to tell him the truth, but you can’t risk it. not yet.

“you didn’t need to lie to me, you know,” taesan says softly, his gaze softer but still guarded. “you could’ve just told me where you were. there wouldn’t have been any problem.”

“i know,” you say, your heart sinking. “but i didn’t want to ruin the surprise.”

the moment you say it, you regret it. taesan’s eyes flash with confusion, but he doesn’t say anything. he just watches you, waiting.

“what surprise?” taesan asks, the suspicion back in his voice.

you hesitate, panic rising. you can’t tell him, not yet. not when you’re this close.

“it’s nothing,” you say quickly, forcing a smile. “i just didn’t want to make a big deal out of it.”

taesan’s gaze sharpens again. “you’re lying. i can tell.”

you want to scream, to tell him the truth, but you stay silent, your heart heavy with the pressure of it all.

“you’ve been hiding something from me, haven’t you?” taesan asks, his voice quiet now, as if he’s piecing everything together.

you look away, unable to meet his eyes. you can’t keep lying, but you can’t give in either. not yet.

“taesan, please,” you whisper. “just trust me. i don’t want to hurt you.”

he sighs, his expression softening just a little. “i trust you, but it’s hard when you keep lying to me. i just don’t get why you couldn’t tell me what was going on.”

you open your mouth to say something, but nothing comes out. your throat feels tight, and your mind is racing, trying to figure out how to get yourself out of this mess.

“i’m sorry,” you finally say, your voice barely audible. “i didn’t mean for any of this to happen.”

taesan looks at you for a long moment, his face softening a bit. “it’s fine,” he says quietly. “but next time, just tell me. no more lies.”

you nod, relieved but still filled with guilt.

there’s a long silence, and then you finally reach into your bag and pull out the vinyl and the trinkets you picked out for him. you hold them out to him, your hands shaking.

“here,” you say softly, voice full of apology. “i got these for you. i… i thought you’d like them.”

taesan takes the items slowly, his expression unreadable. after a few moments, he looks up at you. “you didn’t have to do this,” he says, his voice softening. “but… thanks.”

you smile weakly, still feeling the weight of everything. “i’m sorry for making you mad.”

taesan sighs, stepping closer to you. “it’s okay. just promise me no more lies, alright?”

“promise,” you say quietly.

and for the first time in what feels like forever, the tension begins to melt away. taesan pulls you into a hug, and you let yourself relax, knowing that you’ll have to make things right.

but for now, you’re just grateful that he’s still here.

taesan is silent for a long time, just staring at the vinyls in his hands. his fingers trace over the covers, his expression unreadable.

you shift nervously, waiting for some kind of reaction. was this too much? was this not what he would’ve liked? sungho had assured you it was a good choice, but now, standing here with taesan’s gaze locked onto the gift, doubt creeps in.

“you really did all this for me?” taesan finally asks, voice quieter now.

you nod quickly. “of course i did. you just had a comeback, and i wanted to get you something that actually fit your taste. something you’d really like.”

he exhales slowly, his grip tightening around the vinyls for a second before he looks up at you. his expression has softened completely, the cold edge gone. instead, there’s something else… something warmer.

“you’re an idiot,” he mutters, but there’s no bite to his words. in fact, his lips twitch slightly, like he’s trying not to smile. “you could’ve just told me.”

“and ruin the surprise?” you huff, crossing your arms. “not a chance.”

taesan sighs, shaking his head. “you made me worry for nothing.”

“i didn’t mean to,” you mumble, guilt creeping back in.

he looks at you for another long second before stepping forward, wrapping his arms around you. his hold is firm, secure, like he’s grounding himself in your presence.

you blink, surprised at the sudden affection, but quickly melt into the embrace. his scent is familiar, and the warmth of his body makes all the stress from earlier fade.

“don’t do that again,” he mutters into your hair. “just tell me next time.”

you nod against his chest. “okay. i promise.”

he pulls back slightly, just enough to look at you, his dark eyes still holding a bit of lingering frustration. but it’s different now. less about suspicion, more about the fact that you worried him.

his eyes flicker to sungho, and his warmth disappears just slightly as he levels a glare at him. “and you,” he says, narrowing his eyes.

sungho raises his hands defensively. “hey, don’t look at me like that. i was just helping.”

“helping,” taesan repeats, clearly not convinced. “spending hours alone with y/n, keeping secrets, sneaking around.”

sungho rolls his eyes. “yeah, yeah, i get it. i’d be mad too. but it’s not like that.”

“doesn’t matter,” taesan grumbles, still glaring. “you still got too comfortable.”

you groan, tugging at his sleeve. “taesan, please. it’s not like we were on a date or something.”

taesan clicks his tongue but lets it go, instead looking back at the items in his hands. now that he’s actually processing it, his expression shifts, like he’s finally realizing what you got him, without the worry of why you were lying.

“wait,” he mutters, flipping it over. “this album… where did you find this?”

you grin. “special store sungho knew about. he helped me find the best ones.”

taesan pauses for a moment, then looks at you again, softer this time. “you really went through all this trouble just to get me something i’d like?”

you scoff. “of course i did. i love you, you idiot.”

his ears turn red. it’s subtle, but you notice it. he looks away, clearing his throat. “you’re the idiot,” he mumbles, gripping the vinyls like it’s the most precious thing in the world. “but… thanks.”

he pulls you into another hug, holding you tight, like he doesn’t want to let go.

and just like that, everything feels right again.

[crowsofdarkness]

A Fight For Darkness: Chapter Two

-gif not mine. credit to owners-

Pairings: Eric Draven(Bill Skarsgard) x Female!Reader.

Content Warnings: language, violence, mentions of murder, mentions of taking own life, black mail, blood, smoking, drinking, mentions of drug use, arranged marriage, 18+ smut that I will mention at the beginning of the chapter.

Summary: An unknown text and a list full of questions for what happened to your sister leads you down to the underground fight ring that belongs to none other than Eric Draven, The Crow. Once he captures your eyes with his, the web you were desperate to untangle suddenly tightens.

Authors Note: This is not cannon to The Crow(2024). Shelly nor her and Eric's love story exist in this series. Eric does have his fast ability to heal thought. Tags are open for this series as well!

A Fight For Darkness Masterlist

“I’m only going to ask one more time, Y/N. How the hell did you get into the club tonight?” 

Eric’s voice fell on my deaf ears as I continued to stare straight ahead at the peeling paint on the wall, almost in a near catatonic state. My body couldn’t move no matter how hard I tried; not even my toes that were still covered in blood since I kicked them off before my run from those two men. 

I blinked before gazing up towards Eric, who was leaning against the door of the room with his arms crossed over his bare chest. Even in my current state, I looked over the variety of weird tattoos that covered his skin and could feel something inside of me twinge with disgust. 

No, not disgust. Something new for me. 

Arousal?

Typically I wasn't attracted to those kinds of men, my type more on the preppier side. The ones that wore polos and spent their Sunday afternoons at the golf course. 

So why was I currently staring at the hard v-line of his hips, practically drooling over this man? This stranger?  

It’s the shock, I told myself. It had to be the shock of the last ten minutes. I’m not thinking clearly. 

I racked my brain trying to think of an excuse, not wanting to give him the real reason why I was here tonight all the while trying to prove my innocence that I had nothing to do with the two dead bodies in that room. 

One with a slit throat and the other with a bullet hole in their head. 

Blinking away those images, I ran a dry tongue over my lips and let out a staggering breath. 

“I was looking for someone,” I did my best to ignore how shaky my voice sounded. 

Eric raised a brow. “Who?” 

“No one of importance,” my eyes flicked down at my hands, stained with blood. 

I began scratching away at it, opening to rid myself of what I saw.

“How’d you get in tonight?” Eric continued to lean against the door. “I haven’t set out any new invitations in months and this is the first time I’ve seen you here.” 

“Wait,” I looked up at him. “This is your place?” 

“Don’t change the subject. How did you get an invite?” Eric asked again through thin slits of his eyes. 

“Uh,” I began rubbing my palms on my bare thighs, hoping maybe that action would wipe away the dry blood. “Someone sent it to me.” 

It wasn’t a complete lie. 

I was still telling the truth while not divulging too much into my true motives for showing up tonight. That should keep Eric happy enough to let me go. 

“Who?” His deep voice questioned. 

Shit. 

“I don’t know,” I sighed, still rubbing my palms on my thighs. 

Up and down. 

Up. 

Down. 

Just as Eric was about to ask yet another question, there was a rapid knocking on the door. 

“Not now!” He called back. 

“Boss! You need to come see this!” A worried voice said. 

Eric grumbled a spew of curses under his breath before taking three wide strides over towards me, yanking my body off of the couch. His grip on my elbow was fierce, his fingers digging into my skin. 

“What are you doing?” I demanded, my heart nearly bursting out of my chest in fear so I dug my feet into the ground. “Let me go!” 

“I don’t know who you are or why you were here in the first place. Do you really think I’d let you walk around my club unsupervised?” Eric whirled his head towards me with dark eyes. “For all I know, you could have killed those two people.” 

“I didn’t!” I said, shaking my head violently with wide eyes. “I promise! I just walked into the room by accident. I was trying to find the way out!” 

Eric cocked his head to the side with an assessing gaze. It lingered over my face for longer than I deemed necessary yet when his eyes watched the way my throat bobbed, something fluttered deep within my gut. 

“Was that before or after you killed someone?” 

Before I could protest again, someone pounded on the door causing Eric to continue dragging me out of the room. It was so fast, I hadn't had time to see if the man that was leading us through the now empty fight club was the same man I’d run into before; the one that was chasing me. 

People were working on cleaning up the fight cage, scrubbing out the blood from the mat, while others were sweeping up the trash that littered the floor. It felt sticky under my bare feet and internally I cringed at how gross this entire place was. 

Surely there was no way my sister would be involved in some place like this. 

The second we stepped, well more like Eric dragged me through the threshold of the room, I took in sight of the two dead bodies now in better light. My stomach dropped out of my ass and bile rising in my throat. 

It was so much worse than I thought. 

The woman who had her throat slit also had bruises covering her body while the man on the floor not only had the bullet hole in his head but all of his fingertips were cut off. 

“Oh god,” I ripped myself from Eric's grasp to hunch over on my knees, emptying my stomach all over the floor. 

Eric made a noise that sounded a mix between disgust and annoyance as he watched me continue to lose my stomach contents. Eventually when all I could throw up was air, he let out a sigh. 

“I’m going to guess that you didn’t kill these two.” 

I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand before slowly rising back to full height. “What gave it away?” 

Something like a smile pulled at his lips but he refused to let it show and instead, motioned towards the two bodies behind me. 

“Do you know them?” 

Refusing to look, I shook my head. “No. I’ve never seen them before. I stumbled in here when I was looking for the way out.”

“Did anyone see you in here?” Eric asked. 

My lips parted but I hesitated, not knowing if it was a good idea to let him know. 

“Don’t bother lying. When you barged into my office it looked like you were running from something,” he noted. 

Letting out a shaky breath, I nodded. “Two guys but I didn’t get a good look at their faces because of how dark it was in here. The only light that was one was the one above the bed.” 

Now, there was a brighter light on, illuminating the entire space. 

Eric scratched at his bare chest, staring at me for a long moment, and I felt myself becoming small underneath his intense gaze. But it wasn’t only that. I found myself feeling that unknown feeling again, like earlier. Something fluttered low in my gut, a warmth spreading through my veins, and I shifted on my bare feet when they stuck to the nasty floor. 

He must have noticed how not only gross I looked but the mess surrounding us as well because he turned to one of the guys in the room with us; one of his guards. 

“Did we get an I.D on these two?” 

The shorter one nodded towards the girl. “Some hooker.” 

I sliced my eyes into him. “That’s not nice.” 

“If you expect me to care about some drugged up hooker, you’re fucking crazy,” the guard took a step towards me. 

Eric was quick to step in his path, blocking him from me. “Watch it, Greg.” 

The guard, Greg, clenched his jaw. “You don’t know who this broad is, Eric. She shows up in your office covered in blood. For all we know, she could have killed these two.”

“Did you not see me throw up all over the place?” I pointed to the ground. 

“That doesn’t mean-.” 

Greg began but Eric held up a hand to silence him, the muscles in his back tensing. 

“Who is the guy?” He asked, changing the subject. 

“That’s where shit gets interesting,” Greg ran a hand over his jaw. “Alexi Sokolov.” 

Eric somehow even went more tense in the shoulders as his head snapped over towards me. “You’ve never seen these two before?” 

“I already told you, no,” I shook my head with narrowed eyes. “Should I?” 

“Alexi is, well was the leader of the Russian mob here in the city. He frequented my fight club a few times,” Eric ran a hand through his short hair. “And that doesnt help narrow down the list on who killed these two.” 

My blood ran cold and skin clammy as I thought back to the two men I ran from. Could I have stumbled into something more than just a simple murder while looking for my sister? Could the Russians be involved in my sister's disappearance?

The task of finding my sister was becoming more daunting and I suddenly questioned if I could do it on my own. 

“I need to get out of here,” I muttered more so to myself. 

I made it all of two steps before Eric’s large frame blocked the doorway. 

“You’re not leaving until I know for a fact you’re not linked to these two,” he crossed his arms over his chest. 

Scolding myself for letting my gaze linger on his thick arms, I narrowed my eyes up at him. 

“I already told you. I don’t know them,” I said through gritted teeth. 

“Until my guys finish running a background check on you, you’re not going anywhere. Especially like that,” Eric nodded towards the dried blood covering me. 

“Did you say you’re running a background check on me?” I nearly yelled. 

He shrugged. “I don’t know you and you still won’t tell me how you got in tonight. So you could save us all the trouble and just tell the truth.”

“Are you going to let me go if I do?” 

Even though my head was held high and eyes were narrowed at him, my voice shook with undeniable fear. 

Eric’s eyes raked over my body, a smug smile on his face. “Depends on what you tell me.”

Gnawing on my bottom lip, I glanced around the room at Eric’s guards who were busy cleaning up; dragging the bodies away and scrubbing the floor with bleach. The severity of what exactly happened tonight was beginning to bury itself deep inside of my bones, the fear making me sick to my stomach again. I could feel the bile rising in my throat again so I swallowed a few times in an effort to keep it down. 

“I don’t know you,” I finally spoke while looking back at Eric. “How do I know you won’t kill me?”

“If I wanted to, you would have been dropped dead on the floor the second you stepped foot into my office,” Eric answered without an ounce of remorse. 

I blinked, mouth agape. “You-you kill people?” 

Eric stood unmoving in front of me, a thick wall of muscles, and his silence was the answer to my question. My palms began to sweat and I took a step away from him, all the blood draining from my veins. 

“I’m leaving,” my voice was meek. 

“No you’re not. Not until you tell me what you were doing in my club,” Eric grunted. 

Not even giving me more than a few seconds, his grip was tight around my elbow as he all but dragged me out of the room and towards his office. 

“Let me go!” I yelled while digging my heels into the ground. 

“And have you run off? I don’t think so,” Eric snorted. 

As we neared his office, he was about to toss me inside when someone else appeared in the doorway making Eric curse and putting me behind him. Due to his height, I couldn’t see over his shoulder so I peered around his shoulder to see a leggy blonde leaning against the doorframe, dark red lips pulled up in a smile. 

“There you are! I’ve been looking everywhere for you for our celebratory fuck because of your win tonight!” 

I internally frowned at the feeling that festered low in my gut. It was unfamiliar but began to burn when she took a step towards Eric, which in turn made him take one away, bringing me along with him. 

“How’d you get in, Lindsey? I have you blacklisted ” He said, voice clipped. 

The blonde rolled her eyes. “I can’t believe you blacklisted me over a misunderstanding.”

“A misunderstanding?” Eric’s shoulders tensed. “I caught you snooping through my computer and you proceeded to lie to me when I confronted you about it.”

“You think you saw me,” Lindsey held up a finger. 

“I have you on video surveillance,” he replied bluntly.

That seemed to shut her up as Lindsey crossed her arms over her chest. “Well, I wanted to see you. So what do you say when we head back to my place?” 

Eric’s grip had loosened around my elbow while he was talking so I took it as my opportunity to quietly slip away, doing my best to ignore the stupid and annoying feeling stabbing my gut. 

Why the hell was I jealous? I had no right to be. I didn’t know her or Eric. 

I only made it a few steps before Eric’s hand shot out to grab at the nape of my neck, yanking me back to him. 

“Nice try,” he breathed against the shell of my ear. 

“You seem busy,” I said, ignoring the way my body ignited with a blaze from his grip on the back of my neck. “I don’t want to get in the way of your booty call.”

Something flickered in his dark eyes. “Are you jealous? Want me to bend you over and fuck your tight cunt instead?” 

I swallowed thickly when my core ached at his vulgar words. Never in my life had a man talked to me this way before. So why was I so turned on by it? 

“You’re disgusting,” I tried to fight against him which only made him tighten his grip on the back of my neck, yanking me towards his chest. 

I glanced up at him with my best pissed off expression as nipples brushed over his bare chest through the thin material of my dress. I bit the inside of my cheek at how good it felt, not wanting to let the moan slip from my clenched lips. 

“You didn’t say no,” he said with a smirk. 

“Did you want to?” I blurted. 

What the fuck? Why did I ask him that? I didn’t care to know if he wanted to fuck me or not.

Eric’s eyes flicked up and down over my body again. “Tempting. I must say, the dried blood on your skin is making my cock hard.”

“Can I please go home? I just want to leave,” I begged quietly, changing the subject away from the images of him bending over. 

Truth be told, I was exhausted. I had no idea what time it was and wanted nothing more than to crawl into my bed in hopes of forgetting everything that happened. Also, the earlier revelation that Eric may have killed people made me want to run far away, never looking back.

“Stop fucking asking that,” he muttered under his breath while dragging me back towards his office where Lindsey continued to lean against the doorway; her eyes flaring when she noticed me. 

“Who’s this?” 

“Get the fuck out of here, Lindsey,” Eric demanded and wrenched her out of the way. 

Her protests were hushed by him slamming the door in her face before he swung on his heels, pointing a finger at his couch. 

“Sit.” 

“Fuck you,” I snarled. 

Something flickered in Eric’s eyes as his upper lip twitched but instead of saying anything, he forced me to sit on the couch ignoring my protests. 

Like previously, I sat on the couch while he sat on the edge of the coffee table in front of me. His thighs were spread wide on either side of my closed legs, almost as if he was blocking me in. Eric was still shirtless and I forced myself to keep my eyes on his, not wanting to get caught taking in the sight of his abs. 

He doesn't have a six pack. That man has an eight pack. 

Scolding my inner thoughts, I played with the ends of my dirty dress. 

“So,” Eric’s deep voice broke through the quiet. “How did you get an invite to my fight club?” 

I chewed on the inside of my cheek, contemplating whether or not to lie to him but knew that in the end, the only way I was getting out of here was giving Eric what he wanted. 

Not everything. 

“Uh,” I cleared my throat while sitting up straighter. “Some unknown number texted me with the address and a picture of a bloody crow.” 

Eric hummed. “The Bloody Crow invite. Only specific people on the list get that invite.”

“Do you think you could figure out who sent it?” I asked. 

“The list is over two hundred people long.” 

Not knowing what to say, I nodded. I’d been curious as to who sent me the text earlier today. There were only two people who knew about my search for my sister and that was my dad who was dead; he killed himself shortly after my sister went missing so unless he was contacting me from beyond the grave, it wasn't him. The other was the detective assigned to my sister's case and something told me he wouldn’t be sending me somewhere where I could find out more info about the case than him. 

“Why did you come here tonight?” Eric asked. 

I hesitated for a beat, not knowing if I could trust him with my search. But maybe if I gave him a little bit of information, he could point me in the right direction. 

“My sister,” I said. 

“I don’t have any female fighters.” 

I shook my head with a sigh. “No, she’s missing. Has been for the last six months and I’ve been looking for answers.” 

Eric’s left brow rose. “Isn’t that a job for the police?” 

I snorted. “The police haven’t done shit. They gave up after a month. Everytime I try to get updates, I’m directed to voicemail after voicemail of cops who could care less. So it’s up to me to find out where she is.”

“What makes you think she’s still alive?” 

My heart sank at Eric’s words. I knew there was always the possibility that my sister would be dead, especially with how long she’s been missing, but I refused to think that. I would find her and when I did, she would be alive. 

“I don’t,” I answered honestly. “But I’m not going to stop looking for her.”

“You think she came here?” Eric asked. 

I let out a long sigh before easing back into the couch. “I doubt it. Illegal underground fighting rings wasn’t something she was into.” 

“Who said I run an illegal establishment?” He asked with a mock hurt tone but then his face turned serious. “Do you have a picture of her? Maybe I can recognize her.” 

My knee brushed up against his, a surge of static flowing through me, but I ignored it. 

“How can I trust you? You could lie to me just to throw me off course,” I said with furrowed brows. “I don’t even know you.”

Eric scratched at the tattoos on his chest and shrugged. “That’s right, you don’t. And I don’t know you. But you stumbled into my fightclub. Someone sent you an invite for a reason. Which means one of two things. Either it wasn’t meant for you or I have a mole inside my club.”

“The text said I could find answers for my missing sister here so I think it was meant for me.” 

“Well, then it looks like I have a mole,” Eric’s jaw clenched, a vein on the side of his forehead prominent with a deep shade of purple. 

I motioned to my purse that was still on the table next to Eric. “I have a picture of her in my wallet.” 

Once he rifled through my purse to find the picture, he stared at it for a long moment before shaking his head. 

“I’ve never seen her before.” 

“I’m starting to think this was a dead end. Whoever sent me that text did it to throw me off,” I said. 

Silence fell between us, our deep breathing echoing in the room, and I took in the sight of Eric’s office. It wasn’t big by any means, just a desk with a chair, a couch, and a punching bag in the corner. There was a closed door behind the desk to which I assumed was a closet. 

A rough knock sounded on the main door to his office and Eric called over his shoulder. “Come in!”

One of his guards peered his head inside, hesitating when he saw me sitting on the couch. Eric noticed but instead of kicking me out, he nodded towards the guard urging him on. 

“Uh, boss. We reviewed the tapes and we got something.” 

“What did you find?” Eric asked while rising to his feet. 

I didn’t bother to move, only slink further deep into the couch. 

“Ms. Y/L/N was telling the truth. She came alone and as soon as she saw you fighting in the cage, she tried to leave but ended up in the room with the two bodies. She was in there less than two minutes, not enough time to kill them.”

“Told you,” I grumbled under my breath while crossing my arms over my chest. 

Eric glanced down at me. “Did I disgust you that much during my fight?” 

No, not you. 

“I don’t like violence,” I stated with a shrug.

He hummed before looking back at his guard. “What else did you find out?”

“Whoever the two guys that caught here weren’t that slick. While they were chasing her, they ran into direct sight of the cameras. We got a good look at their faces.”

“And?” 

The guard shifted on his feet before running a hand over his face. “It’s bad.” 

“Worse than the head of the Russian mob being murdered in my club?” Eric retorted back. 

“Worse like they are Roeg’s men.”

A slew of curses fell from Eric’s mouth as he rested his hands low on his hips, the black gym shorts he still wore from his fight hanging even lower. He began pacing the length of his office and I watched with slight fear in my eyes, heart beating rapidly. 

“Who’s Roeg?” I dared ask. 

Eric ignored me, turning back to his guard. “How sure are we that they got a good look at, Y/N?”

“They didn’t get a good look at me,” I said. “The room was dark.” 

“Are you positive?” He directed towards me. 

My lips parted to speak but quickly I snapped them shut when I realized I wasn’t entirely sure if those two men actually saw me or not. 

Running a hand through his hair, Eric went over towards the other door in his office and opened it, pulling out a hoodie and a pair of sweats; him obviously keeping extra clothes in there. He tossed them to me with a pointed finger. 

“Get dressed. Leave your bloody clothes here so we can burn them.” 

“Why?” My voice shook as I held the clothes to my chest. “What are you going to do?” 

“Are we clear?” Eric asked his guard. 

“Yeah,” he nodded. “We did a full sweep of the building and the grounds outside. Roeg’s men are nowhere in sight. Jackson is reviewing the tapes from the backdoor to see how they got in.”

“Send me the footage as soon as you get it,” Eric said and then grabbed a shirt from the closet, throwing it on. “Didn’t I tell you to get dressed?” 

I slowly stood from the couch, still holding the hoodie and sweats close to my chest. “Why? What’s going on?” 

“You’re leaving. Go home and never come back here.” 

Eric’s words should have elated me, finally being able to go home, yet I continued to stand in front of him unmoving. Something in those bright eyes gave way that he was keeping secrets. 

Instead of arguing, I let out a long sigh and nodded. “Trust me, you’ll never see me here again.”

“Good. You can get dressed in here and one of my guards will walk you to your car.” 

He walked towards the open door of his office, muttering something to the guard, but my voice called after him. 

“What am I supposed to do if one of those guys shows up again?”

Eric paused for a moment, contemplating something in his mind, before stalking back over to his desk and ripped open a drawer. 

“If something happens, call me,” he handed me a card with his number on it but held it back before I could grab it. “This doesn’t mean you can text me asking me what I’m doing or what my favorite color is.” 

Narrowing my eyes, I snatched the card from his hand. “Trust me, Eric. You’re not even my type.” 

Liar. 

Ignoring the voice in my head yet again, I held his gaze for a solid three breaths before he let out an amused noise and turned swiftly on his heels, hating right in the doorway. 

“A piece of advice?” Eric called over his shoulder. “Stop looking into your sister's disappearance. You’re going to get yourself killed.”

[mydearviserra]

Affinity

╰┈➤ ❝ [ Aemond Targaryen x Helaena Targeryen ]

“It just felt like Helaena felt safer with Aemond than she did with Aegon and that they’ve got something, some affinity there.” - Phia Saban

Note: based on ep9 s1 just altered, bots will be made soon for each one shot:)

“If one possesses something a thing, the other will take it away” my voice gently interrupted the playful sounds of my children. When I raised my attention towards the maid and my children, the maid acknowledged me with a small smile

“Yes princess” she replied as she always did, yes my princess. Nothing more nothing less. I bobbled my head faintly then turning back towards my embroidery.

The other will take it away

“Helaena” his spoke with blank and cold tone as he entered the twins nursery. I raised my head again, our eyes meeting. His eye soften though his body continued to express other side. He stood tall at the doorway, head high and hands behind his back. His gaze turned towards the maid shooting her a glare to leave, she bowed her head toward me before she left the twins side and existing the room.

His shoulders lowered, his stern expression altered to a calm and almost peaceful look. Jaehaera the first to come up from the carpet ran to aemond with her doll, tugging and pulling him towards her as she babbled on her happiness to see him again

“Ah yes, she does look like you” aemond smirked as he shook the dolls hand, Jaehaera giggled as she continued to talk through aemond by the doll

Jaehaerys was next, coming beside his sister. He showed aemond his wooden dragon

“Father made this! It’s sunfyre!” He gushed happily, he raised his voice for aemond fo focus on him. He began going on about when aegon gifted him the toy while Jaehaera crossed her arms, her puffy cheeks made her expression more adorable as she pouted

placing my embroidery on my lap I watched in silence, seeing the twins argue and how aemond looks way over his head trying to deal with two fighting toddlers. After bribing them to be good by giving them more toys they quickly stopped then with a biggest smile they went back to the carpet to play. Aemond sighed as he made his way towards me, seeing next to me on the couch though he left enough space between us

“Aegon..he-“ he muttered low enough for me to hear before i stopped him. I hesitated for a moment as I looked at the hands on my lap, I began to twist the rings on my fingers

“I did” I admit quietly, though it was for the children to not hear I think I just didn’t want to hear myself to admit it. “He misses aegon so I..I just fibbed..just a little..” aemond watched as I began to sulk, it tore my heart to lie my boy. But he looked so happy. Aemond slowly raised his hand, he stopped mid way thinking of his actions before he travel toward my hands placing his hand onto of mine just leaving inch of space allowing our hands to graze at each other

“No need to fright my spider, it’s our secret” his eyes twinkled mischievously, his shoulder nudged mines a bit. I felt slightly better “wow what a great depiction of you- even not your long arms” he teased as he lifted his hand to point towards my embroidery of a spider, I rolled my eyes playfully

“This is a Castianeira crocata- or known as the red striped spider so this Castianeira” I smiled as I lifted the fabric to show aemond every detail I put into it, I continued on fact of this spider.

Without even knowing it aemond took in every information taking a mental note to search for this spider to add into her collection. His eyes were glued on hers, never looking way or dozing off. Just seeing the way her eyes light up with excitement expressing her knowledge made his heart skip a heart. Her pure, innocent excitement was enough to make him melt. The way she scrunched her eyebrows when she compared other spiders to each other then when she spoke of how she captured the details perfectly in the embroidery. How much she’s so content weaving her hands all day, then she switch to how her hands cramp all the time i didnt catch myself grabbing her hands and began rubbing them. My attention was kept on her face I could even realize I grab her hands

Seeing the blush against her cheeks i stopped, my eyes widened in a panic trying to scramble an excuse.

“N-no it’s fine..it feels nice” my voice was quite, looking away from aemond I turn to the children who was still quietly playing

Within that moment silence overcame us, comfortable silence. It wasn’t the kind where they stare strangely at me as they listen to my tales. With aemond our silence was always comforting, he listened he engaged in our conversation. It was never false affection, he cared about me. More than anyone has, not even from my husband. When our time spent together became my favorite part of the day, when he tells me his day and when I see the way he plays with my children and spoils them with treats.

When the space between us was closing, our touch lingered longer then it should.

Doomed

Oh how doomed we are

Oh aemond

“Spider I-“ his voice broke the silence, he was hesitant as he took a sharp breath trying to have the courage to continue

“I know” i whispered as I linked our hands together, my thumb rubbing his hand I took a sharp breath as I rested my head against his shoulder

Doomed

“Hm..” he mumbled, not continuing further. Together in our silence we watched the kids play, “have you told him yet?” His eyes lingering down at me then towards my stomach. For a few moments a small frown formed

“Not yet”

Doomed

“Clueless he is, he won’t know the truth my spider..” he kissed the top of my head, I could only grip his hand

The other will take it away

See what I did there👀

[screampied]

#BLOODLINE! s. ryōmen + c. kamo

☆ sum. when they’re both 10s but they’re also vampires. hungry blood-thirsty vampires who’ll stop at nothing to claim you. with how sweet you taste though, maybe humans aren’t so bad after all.

wc. 7.8k

warnings. fem! reader, thrēesomes, vampires! sukuna + choso, pwp, amateur's take on vampires, unprotected, cowgirl dp, manhandling, spīt-roasting, biting, dumbification, size kinks, fighting over you, brēeding kink, mentions of bloōd, implied marathons, fīngering, squīrting, pussydrunk men, cunnīlingus, hair pulling, choking, mistress kink, petnames.

➤ kinktober mlist!

this was crazy - no, this was insane.

not everyday do you have a century plus old vampire between your legs — a vampire who you were actually supposed to exterminate for a pricey reward that was held over his head. both heads. but oh, you were so screwed. not even three days in of getting your official vampire hunter license and you already failed.

rule number one stupid girl: never fuck the vampire. rule number two: never fuck the vampires, plural.

but, you had a scent on you. an alluring fresh scent that made the sukuna ryomen fall weak to his knees. the fragrant—whatever it was smelled very lush with a sprinkled spice of vanilla. it irked him badly, and what irked him the most was the simple fact that he was feeling quite . . parched.

he’s starved, and it’s been a while since he’s had a quenched thirst and satisfied appetite. vampires usually had it rough—especially sukuna, because he’d usually spend most of his years hibernating, and he could live without blood . . for a certain amount of years before he comes well, feral.

but that all changed until you came along, and long story short—here you were sprawled out over his throne with your legs wide open.

“woman,” he snarls, buried right between your thighs. sable honed claws gingerly caress against your skin before his long tongue drags itself out of your pudgy folds. “spread your cunt f’r me before i bite it off.”

“what if i’m into that?” you sheepishly hum, feeling a tear of sweat trickle down your quirked brow. but right as you let off your cheeky remark, a big hand swats at your sopping entrance hard, earning a whimper from your mouth. so wet, your squelches ring through his rusted victorian walls.

sukuna snarls at you, crimson ruby eyes boring into your soul practically before with a sobbing creak, his chamber door opens. the hinges were whining as it unbolts and peeked out was whom you assumed to the other vampire, kamo choso.

you did research on them both—especially choso.

even though both of them were classified as dangerous notorious special grades with huge bounties placed on each of their heads dead or alive, choso was worth far more. you always did want to know why though.

he’s even prettier than person. choso was dressed in nothing but dark toned yet elegant dim clothing. both of their styles were strictly victorian-esque. choso’s hair was slightly matted and down, flowing past his tense shoulders. as unkempt dark strands went through his eyes, it created an attractive a shaggy wolf cut look. “oh,” he timidly murmurs, his eyes averting toward sukuna then at you.

a human,

his heart started to race and he could feel the inside of his mouth salivate with a minuscule amount of water. choso openly stares for a lengthy amount of seconds before nibbling on his tongue with his fangs. with the way he scoffs under his breath and how his body language grows stiff — you can tell, he’s jealous.

“am i .. interrupting, sukuna?”

sukuna groans internally, his tongue still attached to your swollen clit. you were close—he knew it from the way your breathing patterns started to grow irregular and you were struggling to stay still. as your feeble fingers resume to spread your soddened folds further apart for him, he slurps you clean, making all sorts of sloppy noises leave from his think pink lips. “mhm,” and he gives his comrade a side eye. “c’mere, choso. greet our new meal—eh, special guest.”

choso’s gaze never leaves yours, and as he tucks his head underneath his cape, he kneels down beside sukuna. “h- hi,” he swallows thickly, trailing his bloodshot irises that dramatically dilated each second he spent staring at your body.

god, were you pretty.

“hi ch— fuck,” you moan, feeling sukuna’s fangs delicately brush near your cunt. it almost tickled but you weren’t laughing, and your thighs were on the verge of snapping shut. choso stands there, watching as his own whetted fangs dig into his pouty bottom lip. “choso, do you wanna try too?”

“can i?” he blurts eagerly, but he gets flustered the second he sees your lips curving into a soft smile. after all, embarrassment was always his best friend.

choso’s kneeled right beside sukuna and he has an almost scowl marinating against his facial features. with a grumpy glower, he’s watching his partner act so greedy. the pink haired vampire’s got a chin that’s just streaming with slick and he can’t help but pout.

it’s probably been decades since he—since they encountered a vampire hunter, and now you were here. not only that, but choso was the entire opposite of sukuna. he doesn’t know the first thing on how to please a woman. “i mean . . is it okay, miss?”

sukuna snickers, briefly breaking his lips away before strumming a fat thumb down your drooling slit. “tch. such a wuss,” and his reddened gaze meets yours as a sly smile twists across the crevices of his lips. “excuse him. he’s a bit, heh, inexperienced.”

“that’s not—” it was, and choso lets off a cute frustrated huff but his demeanor softens the moment you claw a hand through his slightly matted wolfcut. dozens of loose tresses twirl between your fingers and he lets off a quiet purr, leaning into your touch. “mhm,” and he looks up at you—then at your pretty swollen cunt that was just pulsing second after second.

so pretty, it almost looks like a flower. easily akin to a vanilla orchid—he found himself about to drool the more he stared. choso was just millimeters away from a single taste and he couldn’t help but moan once he abruptly got a strong whiff of your candied balmy scent.

“it’s okay,” you murmur, trailing your middle finger down his tender scalp. sukuna’s right beside him, rolling his eyes whilst licking his spit-slick lips. as you remain slouched on sukuna’s primeval throne—your legs sprawl out just a bit wider and you bite your lip. “give it a little kiss.”

“y- yes, miss,” choso utters, and your eyes flicker down toward his lips. perfectly shaped—they have somewhat of an almost natural pout as they purse together—rosy pink and quivering in anticipation.

as he moves his face closer between your legs, you let off a gasp once his plump wet lips gradually smooch against your clit. “hng,” he groans, the sap of your own slick stringing against his mouth. choso can’t help but sneak his tongue down your pulsating clit for a better taste and oh, the way his eyes rolled back. “s- so good.”

sukuna clicks his tongue, growing impatient as his sharpened claws dig into the thin wooly fabric of his burgundy-black cloak.

“that’s it—good, yeah,” you softly coo out, tightening your grip against his head just a little.

choso had no clue what he was doing and it was adorable. his tongue was just as long as sukuna’s, mirroring the same forked-like shape. the softly spiky texture makes you squirm and writhe, feeling pleasurable twinges surge all throughout every inch of your body.

“fuuckk,” you gasp, feeling him suck against your clit. it’s overly sensitive, and he moans, feeling you throb right in his mouth. “mhm, suck there. right there, baby.”

baby, he wasn’t used to such words of affection. petnames, what you might call it. choso’s pointed ears cutely twitch and his nose wrinkles the second his sucking steadily intensifies. “mpmh,” and you can feel him taking a few seconds to sniff against your cunt once more.

“he gets off to being praised,” sukuna huskily jabbers, watching choso turn absolutely pussy drunk within seconds. you could tell just from his expressions alone. that sly yet sleazy grin compressing near the corners of his mouth, hooded eyes and drooling profusely from the sides of his mouth—

yeah, he was entirely weak. weak for you.

as his tongue slowly massages its way between the cracked slit of your pussy, he feels your grip in his hair tighten. “does he?” you utter, and you can hear a shuddering breath leave from choso’s mouth.

he swallows thickly again, wondering when the part was gonna come. the part where you’d finish your job, your mission—out of all the vampire hunters he’s stumbled across, he’s never been between one’s legs . . let alone being spared.

but he wasn’t complaining, not at all.

“mhm,” the older vampire sukuna grumbles, teasingly wrapping a hand around choso’s broad neck. choso moans from his touch too, and sukuna brushes a thumb down the valley of his sensitive scalp. “he can’t help it. praise him once and he’ll finish right on the spo—”

“s.. sukuna,” choso glares, still having a mouth full of your cunt.

the squelches you made from each succulent suckle was quite loud, constantly reverberating through the ancient chamber walls. but oh, your taste was simply divine. unlike any cuisine he’s ever tried. choso would rate your pussy five stars if he could.

you’re so wet — sopping a pretty cascading stream that flows down his chiseled chin to where he’s literally just drowning in your cunt. choso was a quick learner though, despite having little to no experience.

a raw breath rips out of your lungs once you feel your thighs grow weak. his tongue extends a bit inside of your cunt, curling it’s way around and in zigzags to make your toes curl in surprising rapture.

“f- fuck, like that,” you whimper out, and suddenly a dark silhouette overshadows you. slowly, your eyes look up to see sukuna standing right over you with a cunning toothy leer.

your eyes rove down his dark cloak that covers his body entirely, although you couldn’t help but want to see more.

like mentioned before—you’ve done your research about them both. as a vampire hunter, it was well, required.

sukuna had to be over a few thousand years old with choso not that far from behind. “silly, silly woman,” he tsks with a taunting head shake.

sukuna cups your chin and you moan once choso’s hooked nose starts to brush up and down against your clit.

you meet the eyes of a blood-thirsty vampire who’s got the most smuggest grin you’ve ever seen. “you know,” his voice seductively pitches low, and the rough bass that smooths underneath his tone makes you feel a wave of butterflies swarm near the pit of your stomach. a thumb swipes against your glossed lips before he bends, getting right close to your face level. “usually, this is the part where you kill us, you know that, right?”

“i—know,” and for a second, you nearly let off a mewl once you feel choso’s fangs softly nip against your tender cunt.

you were throbbing heavily, and he’s just slobbering all over your entrance just to lap it right back up back with his tongue like the feral animal he was.

it was cute how conflicted you were — your eyes didn’t know where to look, whom to focus on, nothing. .

even so, as your back remains reclined back against the timber-made throne, your brows furrow. he’s right, moments ago you should have pulled out your stake or firearm, getting rid of them and collecting quite a delicious sum of bounty for both of their heads - dead or alive.

but, as the thought struck you — why, why didn’t you finish them off. what’s stopping you?

you didn’t know, and quite frankly, you didn’t care.

besides, it was technically only the first few days of your new job and something internally was screaming at you that this probably wasn’t your right field of expertise anyway.

and the fact that the ‘target’ you were supposed to eliminate was propped up between your legs was . . something.

hell, maybe it was even a sign.

“oh, i see,” sukuna huffs, sliding a thumb across your pursed lips, wanting your pout crease more. cute. “you want more, that right, stupid girl?” a rough voice purrs out to you, and he can see the pout starting to form over your lips once you give him a slow nod. “yeah, yeah you do,” and he looks down at choso who’s got his pretty flapping lashes closed, sliding a hand inside of his cloak.

he’s groaning against your cunt, stroking himself off and whimpering against your folds that sobbed for more. sukuna cups your chin, pressing your lips together. “i don’t speak nod. use those words, tell me what you want.”

“y.. you both,” and it comes out like a lewd broken whisper. by this point, you were shameless. it’s almost as if you were in a dream—maybe even a fan fiction.

as those fatal words leave from your lips, your eyes roll back once choso’s continuing to slurp against your cunt - savoring each honeyed drop of your juices. he’s still on his knees as his pointed ears twitch from each whine and mewl that pours away from your lips.

sukuna groans under his breath, feeling himself get hard as he takes a few occasional glances.

choso’s face was right up against your pussy, and he made sure to run and trace his tongue in every single spot that would make you sing out pretty ‘ooh’ and ‘ah’'s for him. he’s craved a good meal for the longest and the meal between your thighs was all that he really needed.

“greedy girl,” sukuna grouses, lightly squeezing your chin, making you give him your attention back. ruby red eyes flicker toward your exposed nude neck — such precious skin all out and on display, a vampire’s favorite part of the body.

the thoughts of imagining what you tasted like from just a single bite clogged his entire brain. just a single drink of you - just one would have him probably at your mercy - no, he had to focus.

sukuna shakes his head with an annoyed grunt, pressing his head against yours as you lied back. “both, huh? can you really handle that, princess?”

“yes—”

“look at me when you speak, girl,” and you feel an overwhelming increase of thumps in your heart once he’s only inches away from pressing his lips against yours.

the eye contact was brutal - sensual.

his eyes lock onto yours and it’s as if you’re staring directly at a pool of bloody scarlet jewels. you could honestly get lost in sukuna’s eyes. such irises never leave yours and you gulp, looking him right in the eye before watching choso starting to bite near your thighs. “repeat yourself, go on.”

with a shaky voice, you drag choso’s head closer between your thighs before whining once he glides his forked tongue against your throbbing pearly nub. “i want you both. p.. please, wan’ you both.”

and the last thing you’d expect was for them to be eating you out — at the same damn time.

both vampires were propped up between your legs as you’re spread open with the cutest expression plastered on your face.

god, this was fucked.

as two forked tongues flick and swipe against your clit, nibbling on your tender gummy flesh, you let off the most melodic whine. it rips straight out of your throat, bouncing off the century old walls. the texture of both tongues — you felt the plush spikes that run against their tastebuds, feeling sukuna hold your nub hostage with choso trapping his your pretty clit with his fangs.

“fuck, ‘m so c- close,” you’d whine out, staring at them both as they’re between your legs with hazy blown pupils. both of your hands fish through their hair, gasping heavily once they start to slurp nearly everything out of you at such at maddened pace.

it was one thing with teeth — but they had fangs, and they both made sure you felt the keen edges against your sopping cunt every single time.

“mmph,” choso mewls out, wrapping his mouth around your slick entrance. sukuna’s only a few kilometers apart, and the older vampire grunts once he tries to push him away. with pouty glossed lips, choso gives your clit a kiss before briefly departing. “ ‘kuna,” he huffs cutely, and you watch as his chin has an even shiner coat of your arousal racing down. “you’re bein’ greedy..”

“good,” sukuna jibes, and you whimper loudly once his long tongue trails further down. it stops right once it reaches your winking hole. it was so long, it located places you didn’t even know could be reached. a fluttering feeling settled inside the very pits of your stomach before he spits on your cunt.

it’s a rude ‘pft’ and you watch as a syrupy strand dribbles down onto your heat. choso’s lip quivers as he stares too, going back to touching himself.

he rarely touched himself — but when he did, it always felt heavenly. “cho,” he grouses, smearing a fat thumb against your cunt that’s soaking up the dribbling saliva. “clean her off for me.”

choso’s eyes widen. but he was too feral to reply, and as if his lips had a mind of it’s own, he leans in and let’s his mouth do the rest of the talking.

honey, your taste was almost equivalent to honey. choso whines against your clit as he drinks you clean, the soddened pure taste of you never departing from his tastebuds. he shamelessly laps up sukuna’s saliva that pours down your pudgy wet folds before softly thrusting his tongue in and out of your cunt.

“fuck,” you moan, feeling your legs starting to spasm. sukuna goes back between and they’re both latching their pink pointed tongues against your tender muscle. you even watch as their tongues touch, getting tangled together and all. choso grows flustered and sukuna’s for the same sly smile on his lips, teasingly licking near choso’s bottom lip before going back to your pussy.

squelch, you were so wet . . profusely drooling. with how wet you were, you were putting faucets to unruly shame.

your thighs were covered in various marks and as they both shared the same pussy drunk grin, that’s when you finally snap.

right when the tip of sukuna’s forked tongue rudely thwacks against your sweetened g-spot, you end up gushing out right away. it creeps up on you like a jump scare, hitting you like a truck, an inevitable wave that came crashing down without warning.

“fuck, ngh oh my god!” and as you’re coming undone on their tongues, you were holding in a breath you didn’t even know you had.

seconds later as you gradually let go, your tummy’s continuing to heave from each exhilarated pant leaving from your lungs. with hooded eyelids fluttering, you end up spraying a sweet amount of sap onto the bottoms of their chins. sukuna snickers and choso quietly gasps—

“my my,” sukuna hums, licking his tongue underneath his bottom lip, savoring the taste. “so the human’s a squirter also, interesting,” and you couldn’t my stop panting.

your orgasm was loud, and it rang through each of the ancient walls that were so old that they were on the verge of crumbling down after centuries of standing tall. your own voice nearly shatters the victorian mirrors as you leisurely succumb into awaited pleasure, releasing your grip from their heads. you glance down and see sukuna already staring at you, giving your cunt one final kiss. “cute, think i’ll take my time with you, princess.”

choso pouts, panting himself as his tongue licks near the crevice of his lips. “y.. you mean us, ‘kuna.”

sukuna rolls his eyes with a grimacing scowl. “eh, right.”

many moments later — once you’re lightly thrown on sukuna’s king sized bed, you gulp.

now you were fucked.

they were more hungrier than ever, especially choso. the taste of your sweet cunt still lingers and his mouth, on his tongue—and he only imagined how sweeter your sacred blood must be.

“choso, watch me,” sukuna gruffs, and you let him flip your body over. landing into the cushions with a soft ‘oof’ your cheek gets pressed against a velvet pillow. “humans are fragile, so you don’t wanna break ‘em too bad,” and you moan once his hand swats against your bare ass. the recoil makes your entire body tense and you chew on your lip, quietly wishing he’d spank you again.

you weren’t really wearing anything except for maybe a black skirt that was now torn to practical shreds and a blouse that was halfway raised toward the top. as sukuna shuffles a bit, he springs out his thick cock and oh, you could tell he was big just from hearing the stroking sounds from behind you.

he grunts, giving his veiny shaft a few ample pumps before aligning himself against your swollen entrance. “look at herrrr,” he purrs, spreading your cunt apart with two fingers as your ass arched upward.

you were still drenched with your panties clinging toward the gummed crevices of your thighs. right as he toys with your dilating clit, he can hear the sloshing sounds make it’s return before darkly chuckling. “eager, isn’t she choso? her pretty pussy’s tryin’ to talk back. how quaint.”

“sukuna,” choso pouts, pushing him off. “let me, i know how to—” and he pauses, his eyes intently gazing at your pulsing cunt.

he was still so hungry. he just wanted another taste. just one more slurp of your slick and he’ll be satisfied. his thirst would be quenched. choso shakes his head, letting off a shaky sigh. “i know how t- to fuck.”

“he doesn’t,” sukuna mouths to you in a cocky manner, getting in front of you.

the pink haired vampire stands near the edge of the bed, a hand cupping underneath your chin. “it’s okay, you can look,” he smugly says, feeling your eyes burn into his weighty length that’s standing tall.

the shadow that’s underneath it makes it appear even bigger, and oh, it’s not just big - it’s huge.

sukuna’s very thick with insane amounts of girth for days, and your eyes slowly flicker toward his pretty tip that’s swollen. spurts of pre-cum seeping from his frenulum and you can’t help but give his tip a few greeting kisses. he sucks his teeth at the audacity, wide jaw tightening at your tender touch. the more you stare, you notice he’s got a bit of pink hair that curls it way around his fat base, almost forming a bush.

it’s unintentionally attractive, and you even found yourself gawking at his shaggy happy trail too. “touch me more, woman,” he utters, as if he read your mind. his rough tone getting a bit softer. “go ‘head.”

as you wrap a hand around his cock, you can hear choso’s sweet whimpers in the background. “oh, my,” and his sweltering hot tip’s just ghosting against your yearning slick entrance. you let off a hum, teasingly wriggling your ass a bit just to get a reaction out of him and you did. “ugh,” he moans with an needy hiss following, sliding his flushed crownhead against your swallowing cunt. “kuna she’s gonna m- make me cum.”

“thought you said you knew how to fuck?” sukuna titters, ogling as you slowly bring your plump lips up to his shaft.

with a grumble, choso kisses his teeth. “shut up,” and as his dick aligns itself between your swollen folds, he lets off a breathy sigh. “fuuuck,” he could feel you wholly trying to swallow him as he eases his way inside.

right there, choso felt a chill run down his spine. you were warm inside, and it makes him gnaw a fang down his quivering lip once his lengthy inches rummages farther. “hng, ‘s so good, she’s so wet, ‘kuna,” he murmurs in a soft tone, his words that slide past his lips shaking from each breath.

hearing your own moans leave from your lips makes him harder. sukuna grunts, watching as you press another chaste kiss against his mushroomy tip.

lustrous strands of pre-cum stick against your lips and he groans, tight abs that hid within the inside of his cloak tensing right away. “that’s it, ‘s all yours, princess,” and a hand of his paws it’s way onto the top of your head. once his dick starts to slowly disappear in your mouth, he lets off a near growl. whitened fangs poke from the outer parts of his lip before he feels your moan vibrate against his shaft. “mhm, atta girl. get it wet, spit on it.”

“hah, ‘m not gonna last,” choso breathlessly huffs, and with his hands gripping on both sides of your waist, he’s starting up a pace. it’s a slow pace that you could keep up with in terms of rhythm, but fuck was he big too.

choso had just as much of girth as sukuna did, maybe even more.

he’s stretching you out with just a few beginning thrusts and your eyes already widen. “mpmh,” and as your mouth’s full, cheeks all puffed from storing sukuna’s cock inside, you pull it out to allow a bit of drool pout from your lips and onto his tip.

the vampire flashes you a wolffish smile as his fingers softly massage down your scalp, his claws gingerly stroking against your tresses. your back was arched to a sudden with your body slightly raised, facing sukuna whilst your rear was focusing purely on choso.

sukuna studies your body, your pretty face, your fluttering flapping lashes, your tight tight throat that’s making lewd noises every once in and while, but most importantly, he studies you.

it doesn’t take long before his fat cockhead starts to create ‘love’ taps against your uvula. your eyes widen and you let off a tiny gargle at feeling him reach the roof of your mouth within no time, clawing your own hands into his beefy thighs.

“such a tight ‘lil throat for a pretty human,” he grunts, feeling you pop out his cock to lap up the remnants of your saliva.

choso’s still plummeting into you from behind, giving you soft sensual strokes yet they soon turn rigorous and deep once he feels your ass slam into him. once your skin goes back against him, that was merely all it took for him to lose it. it makes his ears twitch even more—and he whimpers, falling on love with your cunt right away.

it’s sloppy. already, you’re starting to stick and glue against his chiseled pelvis each time you rut back into him. choso’s hips were downright filthy, and it only takes him a few minutes before he’s meticulously drilling into you at full speed. his cock’s precise, making sure to hunt and search through every part of your cunt with his aching tip.

“fuck,” he hisses, a sweaty palm of his giving your right ass cheek a squeeze. as he grabs a nice chunk of your ass, he can’t help but spank it.

but he feels bad afterwards so the sting shortly goes away once his palm caresses a few circles against your hot temple.

the recoil of your skin always mesmerized him - he found himself in a trance every time. simply put, you had him enticed.

choso moans again, feeling your warm body rock back into his at such an unsteady pace to where he’s stammering over his words. “s. . so pretty.”

“the inside of her mouth’s even prettier,” sukuna sneers, and with a loud ‘pop’, he removes his dick from out of your throat.

you pout, lolling out your tongue without him having to say anything and he hums in patent amusement. “ain’t that right, princess?” and with a whack, his fat meaty tip slaps against your pink tongue.

you moan, and he slaps his flushed cock against your tongue three more times just to hear you whine for him to finish. “fuckin’ hungry, are ya, ‘lil hunter? you didn’t care about bounties, you just cared about gettin’ your sloppy cunt wet, huh.”

“mmph—sukuna,” you mumble, your words nearly inaudible once he rubs his leaky tip against your lips. his tip’s so fat and swollen as a rosé color shades over it from top to bottom. just a few seconds of him being out of your mouth and you were already drooling for more - literally.

choso’s breathing starts to pick up the longer he’s giving you such rough pivotal thrusts. you could feel him practically humping his weak hips into you, and he’s sniffling because he can’t believe humans felt this good inside.

“aw, are you mad, little human?” sukuna gruffly mocks, tracing a thumb over your arched brow.

the scowl that indents between the corners of your lips was adorable. “heh, how spoiled you must be. fine. open your mouth again,” and he views as you quickly comply, sticking out your tongue with your hands grabbing your neglected breasts that hid beneath your bra. “good girl.”

this merely lasts for a century — not really, but it felt like it.

lightning like veins ran down sukuna’s cock and you felt them prod against your tongue, meanwhile choso’s almost hysterical once he ends up dumping ribbons of cum into you. early at that, and he’s never been more embarrassed.

choso fucks you for a long while, and it’s until his thrusts against you becomes insignificantly sloppy and he’s overflowed your cunt with ropes of searing hot cum. it’s so much that it dribbles down your thighs, spritzing all on your clit and gluing against your skin like paste.

“ngh, f- forgive me,” he’d whine, peering as sukuna’s finishing up himself.

with a feral growl, he’s fisting his cock just a few more times before it’s his turn to finish now. you got filled in both ways, and once the bitterly sweet taste of his seed mists into your mouth, you let off a moan. “good . . good girl,” choso rubs the back of his neck, trying to mimic sukuna’s praises he did on you earlier.

you’re still on all fours and your eyelashes flutter as he’s continuing to spill out such slimy amounts of cum. the taste has a bit of a sugary tang that makes your nose crinkle. “swallow,” the older vampire murmurs, a long black claw of his softly caressing the edge of your lip.

a few droplets dribble from the corners of your lips once you obey, moaning once you feel choso unhurriedly pull out. he’s slow, feeling his chest heave out with a heavy sigh as your cunt let’s out a loud ‘pop’ after he gradually takes it out of you.

his tip was throbbing, and as he stared at his own cum oozing out of your swollen pussy, he can’t help but run a finger down it. you feel yourself clenching around nothing now and you can’t help but pout.

“tch. where’s your manners, woman,” sukuna raises a pink slit brow, grabbing your chin. your lips still remain pouty due to how much he’s squeezing against your plump lips together and you let off a whimper.

crisp air sets against your bare ass and skin as you meet his carmine-red gaze. “you’re supposed to say ‘thank you’ for the meal. go on.”

“t . . thank you, ‘kuna,” you softly snivel, feeling yourself pulse the more choso runs his finger down your flabby folds. he’s touchy, his fingers felt hot and shocking like static - and the more he maneuvers tiny circles around your clit, the more you felt your knees starting to grow weaker again.

“hn.” is all he replies with, and just when you thought they were finished — they weren’t.

you said you wanted both of them, not just one but two. and you know what they always say, the more the merrier . . right?

but it’s a bit different when the ‘merrier’ involves two ancient cocks.

to say you got stretched to the very fullest was merely an understatement. they each took turns with you, round after round after fucking round . .

your legs felt practically nonexistent, and every time they’d dump a knot into your sweet cunt, you’d feel like you were about to burst. round after round after round, they’d coax out orgasms out of you like it was nothing—especially sukuna.

choso was the one whining in your ear, whining even louder than you sometimes. he couldn’t help it, especially with how good your pussy wrapped around his dick so freely. it was a feeling he doesn’t think he’s ever experienced—and if he did, it was a long long time ago anyway.

but now, you were preparing to take them both at the same time. the thrill of the thought alone makes your thighs shudder as sukuna’s sinking his thick cock into you. already, he feels you gaping and you can’t help but moan at the elastic stretch unfurling wider and wider. .

the pink haired vampire was propped behind you while choso’s lying flat back against the sofa. it’s a pretty view, and choso’s staring right into your eyes. your pretty eyes—he’s never been one to lust over a mere human, but it was just something about you. with you, it was different.

sukuna on the the other hand—he couldn’t really care less. he’s centuries old and it’s been what, a decades since he’s got laid? it was just who he was - but he wouldn’t mind keeping you around for a while.

for centuries, the two of them lived their tedious lives inside of what appeared to be some kind of abandoned castle—you actually ended up stumbling upon it in the forest by accident while looking for them. the vampires you were supposed to kill, and yet here you were, about to be double stuffed by both of them.

“nice ‘n easy you two. biiiig fuckin’ stretch,” sukuna gruffs, wrapping a big hand around his hardened cock.

it’s flushed and veiny from the rigid sides, florid from the crowned tip with a ruby shade as he’s still getting over his recent orgasm. you’re sopping, your cunt’s crying for more and the sloshes that sang out from your folds only grew louder the more he’s burying himself inside of your gummy pasty walls. “choso, you’re not gonna faint again, are ya?”

“s- shut up,” choso grumbles, a rosy tiny spraying a half part of his face. as choso aligns himself between your entrance also, he let’s off a low sigh at the welcoming squelch your pussy make.

‘pop’ and fuck, could he listen to that all day. just the sloppy noises you made—to him, that was music in itself. “god, ‘m still so sensitive, m- mistress.”

with a sheepish hum, you cup both sides of his face, speaking in a teasing tone. “mistress?”

“i—” choso pauses, a vermillion flush spraying over his entire face. fuck, his words slipped, and he’s felt that wave of embarrassed returning right away.

it was adorable though, and as you continue to bare around both of their cocks, he can’t help but lean into your tender touch. “i mean-”

“no, it’s okay,” you reassure him, moaning once your bare ass gets a swift rude swat from sukuna’s palm. within no time, you’re starting to move your hips again, feeling yourself get stuffed in all orifices.

your sheeny-slicked lips part into a gasping ‘o’ once you feel sukuna then rub a hand against your clit. “fuck,” you whine, and sukuna hisses himself once he feels your clingy grip around his cock tighten. his hips were sharp, and it doesn’t take long before you start to match his deranged rhythm. averting your eyes back toward choso who’s laid back so prettily on the bed underneath you, speak in a soft voice. “ ‘s okay, you can call me that.”

“yeah, cho. call the pretty girl ‘mistress’, heh.” sukuna derides.

with a cute grouse, choso glares at sukuna—but his expression quickly falters once you fall into his chest, slumping into his body. his tight sculptured abs that resembled a greek god peeks through his victorian inky cloak ghost against you and a bit of hair from his happy trail tickles against your tummy.

“shut . . up,” he grumbles at sukuna, but now it’s his turn to cup your face. “m- mistress,” and a thumb of his runs against your cheek.

sukuna groans from behind you both as he’s fucking you from behind—his deep pivotal strokes slowly weakening due to how sensitive he was. it almost stings, but with the way your cunt’s holding him hostage for all its worth, he just couldn’t stop.

“hm,” your eyes meet the dark haired vampire and his bottom lip quivers. just your stare alone was enough to drive him up the first street of insanity.

you’ve done quite your fair share amount of research on these two and what the media reports about them in the papers always shocks you. they typically always describe them as the ‘blood-thirsty duo’ monsters who would mercilessly tear limb from limb off of anyone who dares cross their path.

funnily enough, they said the most heinous things about choso in particular—but now that you were quite literally being filled with them both in each hole, choso was more sweet than anything. the papers described him as a ruthless blood-sucking vampire but he was the sweetest—especially whenever he’s overstimmed and whiny.

and sukuna . . he’s sukuna.

but you were still alive—so that was something, right?

“can . . may i,” and it takes you a moment to realize what he’s asking for.

choso wants to kiss you, and you can tell by the way his big wide eyes continue to flicker toward your own eyes, then back toward your glossed plump lips. he wanted a taste, he needed it.

“y- yeah,” you moan, feeling sukuna’s heavy cock reach an even deeper angle inside of you. you’re taking them both, feeling your entire legs get weaker by the second but that feeling suddenly disintegrates once choso presses his lips onto yours.

it’s a sultry hot kiss. a kiss that he’s been longing to do ever since he walked in on you and sukuna. choso’s forked tongue delves more into your mouth as you’re riding him with sukuna guiding your hips in place.

it’s sloppy, and he’s been pathetically aching for more of a taste from you for the longest. choso wasn’t fond of sharing you with sukuna—he wished it was you and him, but he couldn’t complain. at least he wasn’t going to complain yet.

“mmh,” you moan into his mouth, feeling his scarred hands softly caress near your breasts that poke through your bra. choso whines, nipping at your tongue with his serrated-sharp fangs before he lets off a gasp.

“ngh, oh fuck,” choso whimpers between your lips and deprived kisses. his arms end up enveloping around your waist, holding you close as sukuna’s driving his cock into you as such a crazed speed from behind.

as your lashes stick together briefly — they flutter shut before opening again. glancing up with droopy eyes, you watch as choso’s currently grabbing onto the wooden creaking headboard, a plethora of veins bulging down his swole biceps.

sukuna grunts behind your ear and within seconds later, he’s taking a playful harmless chomp out of your left shoulder blade.

your skin - so sweet, and his pronged tongue swirls its way around the fang marks that starts to form before choso ends up cumming early again.

“fuck, fuck,” choso whines, feeling his chest tighten. your pussy had them both weak, especially with choso more than anything, because he fills you up with another knot that exudes its way deep inside. it shoots out fast, pouring into you before a few remnants trickle down the crevices of your inner thighs.

your deadened legs struggle to stay open and he brings another needy wet kiss to your lips before he starts panting. “i- i need, need more,” and his eyes stare at your neck. “please, just a taste.”

“wait your turn, choso,” sukuna snarls, pulling you back to sink his fangs further into your skin. oh, they were fighting over you. choso lets off a cute huff before ignoring sukuna, glancing at you.

his eyes and pouty quivering lips were telling you ‘please’, and as you continued to slowly jerk your hips against them both, you let off a soft bashful, “g. . go ahead.”

but choso’s still cumming too—his ropes of cum was so sweet and came out so smoothly that it’s like he was pouring molasses of syrupy ribbons into you.

within a blink of an eye, it pumps into you raw, and choso nearly loses it once his fangs pierce down into the right side of your neck. “ah,” he whimpers, hot breath fanning against your skin. softly, his sharp fangs delicately nip into your sweet toothsome skin and it feels like a tiny prick.

you moan as you’re barely moving anymore, but they’re both still very deep inside, keeping each sloppy aperture of yours very, very busy.

“so dramatic,” sukuna rolls his eyes, a feeling of jealousy washing over him. you’re squeezing around him tight and he groans, clawing a few fingers toward your chest and unclasping your bra.

with hungry claret eyes that favors the color of rich red wine, he openly gawks as your breasts spring free and he gingerly pinches one of your perked nipples. “look at these girls, so perfect,” and you moan at his touch.

choso on the other hand looked so pretty. he’s still enjoying his ‘meal’ and the second his fangs cut deep enough into your skin, he tastes that sprinkle of metallic sweetness before he ends up cumming again.

he’s cumming while he’s feeding off of you — drinking your lusciously appetizing blood, and he hasn’t had a fill as good as this in probably centuries.

it’s so good that his mouth was watering, and the vampire loses his momentum before slouching further back with his teeth still attached to your skin like velcro. a pout curls against his lips as he makes you grind back into him, feeling both cocks stretch you open even more. “mh,” he whimpers, honed edges of his fangs creating various marks. you couldn’t wait to look at it later.

sukuna’s still fondling your tits and cupping them with both side hands before he bites near the other side of your neck, showering the exposed part of your skin with a multitude of kisses.

“careful, princess. you’re gonna break him,” he whispers in a raspy tone, and a hand of his trails further down between your legs.

“s- shut up, suku— fuck,” choso whines, and it’s an even larger knot than before.

it’s hot before it pumps inside of you yet again, filling you to the very peak. creamy globs of it race down your thighs as his mouth’s still clinging onto your bare shoulder blade. your taste, it was so rich . . so succulent.

your taste was almost so overbearing that it makes the flustered vampire’s eyes roll all the back until it reaches his skull, and he’s now feeling his dick twitching sporadically inside of you. “mistress, fuck. i- ‘s so much inside of you, f . . forgive me.”

he ends up shooting a huge load inside that stirs the insides of your flittering tummy. you were sure some even reached deep into womb, you wouldn’t be surprised due to just how big they both were.

but even so, and you couldn’t help but ponder . . could vampires get humans pregnant?

you didn’t plan on it, but that reality of being stuffed full of each of them made your stomach churn with a pool of butterflies living inside, swarming all around and fluttering at just the lewd thought of it all. you were filled to the very max - the very brim, and it leaves you panting for more.

you all remain like that until sukuna finally pries you off of choso, crimson eyes gazing at the mess that spills between your thighs. “tsk. how filthy,” and you land on your back, staring up at the two vampires who share the same blood-lust gaze.

“spread ‘em again, princess. least we can do is clean ya up,” and he nudges choso who’s just lied flat against the bed, still in awe—starstruck.

your pussy probably did break him.

“choso. c’mere,” he snaps in his face, and the dark haired vampire blinks thrice, returning back to reality. he groans, sitting up with sheets of sweat racing down each sides of his face. “our girl need’s cleaning.”

“o- oh, right,” he quietly stammers, a bit of your blood from earlier staining his pink lips. a permanent pout remains on his mouth before he licks them clean, and he can’t help but lean in, giving you one more kiss.

your heart swoons, and as you return the embrace. milliseconds pass and you gradually start to feel sukuna spreading your legs, ogling at the mess they created, the mess that’s pumped into you fully.

velvety ribbons of cum racing down each of your thighs, you were still throbbing ferociously and you let off a moan once you swipe your tongue across choso’s lips, relishing in the taste of your own sweet irony blood.

as your tongues vigorously twirl around each, trying to assert dominance between each twisting muscle—you let off a whimper in choso’s mouth once you feel sukuna’s breath aerate against your clit.

without even batting an eye, he starts to lap the cum out between your puffy folds before he gives it one loooong suck. your chest automatically heaves in and out before your arms wrap around choso’s broad shoulders, tangling saliva strands together and creating lustrous sleek cobwebs.

but, as your lips were locked against choso, you feel something between your legs. sukuna gives your pussy one long sniff, then he does it again, and one more time before gifting it a pat. “oh. .”

choso nibbles at your bottom lip with his fangs before sukuna meanly spanks your cunt. a bit of your own slick sprays against his palm and he hums.

“choso,” he huskily says, teasingly pointing the end of his claw near your pulsating clit. it was hovering over your entrance . . and still, you let off a whimper at the sensitive feeling. “i think i know why our pretty girl smelled so good all this time.”

“huh,” the dark haired vampire briefly pulls away, panting heavily just as you. choso glances down at sukuna before feeling his chest cave in and out. “w . . why, sukuna?”

you look down at sukuna, your brows contorting into a curious look yourself.

sukuna gives your sopping cunt one long stare before giving it a kiss. “mwah,” and you moan, watching as wet strands peel away from your pudgy folds and glue back onto his mouth.

he’s sloppy, and he couldn’t care less. the vampire rubs a circle around your entrance before snickering darkly.

“because,” and he spanks your pussy once more time before playfully putting his fangs against your clit as if he was about to bite you. with a dull expression, sukuna leans in to smell between your legs one more time before whispering against your clit.

“—you’re ovulating, princess.”

[honey-tongued-devil]

▶[Arcane preference] reacting to you wearing their clothes [Jayce, Viktor, Ekko, Vander, Silco, Jinx, Vi, Caitlyn, Mel, Sevika, ]

If you know me, hello little deers, I'm back! If you don’t know me, welcome! Just a heads-up that I don’t use "Y/N," but rather the impersonal "you," and even though I talk about clothes, no sizes or weight are involved. Enjoy the read!

Jayce:

  - It’s not that rare when you’re together; he’s a real gentleman through and through. If it’s cold, he’ll give you his jacket, his scarf, anything to keep you warm  

  - But when you’re the one taking his clothes, it’s different  

  - When he sees you walking around the room in his shirt, just after waking up, something in his brain malfunctions  

  - It’s how it fits you, no matter how big or long it is, it seems like it was made just for you, to give you that look  

  - And to him, it feels like some kind of subliminal ad, as if the universe is making you so attractive in the simplicity of that gesture just to tell him he needs to hurry up and put a ring on your finger so he can enjoy that sight every day  

  - It’s hard for you to get anything done in the morning when he wakes up with those thoughts  

  - Those are the days when you stay in bed, cuddling under the covers, with him looking at you, hand on his cheek, getting more lost in you by the second  

Viktor:

  - For Viktor, the idea of a “little thief stealing his clothes” is an interesting one  

  - He’s never been a fan of tight-fitting clothes, plus, with his physique, it’s rare for anything to fit snugly anyway  

  - That’s why, except for his Academy uniform, the rest of his clothes are comfortable and at least two sizes too big for him, without mentioning Jayce's oversize ones in his closet  

  - What Viktor didn’t expect was that, once you started liking them, you’d just take them straight out of his drawer  

  - The first time he knocked on your door to ask if you’d seen his shirt —the very one you were wearing— he first stopped, confused, wondering how it had ended up on you  

  - And then, though he didn’t show it, he paused to notice with satisfaction how well it wrapped around your body  

  - Sometimes he pretends to forget his clothes at your place, just to see them on you, and to get them back with your scent on them  

  - For the nights when he feels lonelier  

Ekko: 

  - Communism  

  - There’s not really a strong sense of what belongs to whom at the Tree, although some clothes (jackets in particular) eventually get so personalized that no one dares to take them anymore  

  - The first time you grabbed Ekko’s jacket, it was simply because you were freezing, it was really cold, and he was resting, so he didn’t need it  

  - But when he saw you wearing it, his pupils dilated so much you could notice it despite his very dark eyes  

  - Ever since then, it’s him who gives it to you and insists that you wear it, because he likes it: there’s something extremely intimate and deeply personal about walking around with you in his jacket  

  - It’s like marking you as his, but really, also reminding himself of it  

  - And Ekko may be proud, but one thing you quickly and painfully learn in the alleys is to say ‘I love you’ before it’s too late, and that small possessive gesture makes him feel fulfilled because it’s like he’s telling everyone that he couldn’t live without you 

 

Vander:

  - Vander’s clothes have this super-secret ability to change depending on who’s wearing them. For example, what are shirts on him turn into dresses on you  

  - When you put them on, even just for the sake of convenience, you find yourself laughing in front of every mirror you pass by  

  - And if he notices, he can’t help but hug you from behind, leaning down to rub his nose against your neck, smiling against your skin  

  - “You know,” he says every single time, “it looks better on you than it does on me,” and no matter how false it might be, in his eyes, it’s truer than almost anything else  

  - After seeing you a few times in his grown-up man's clothes, he decided to dig through an old box to find the clothes from when he was younger and mend them before leaving them folded on your side of the bed, like a little gift  

Silco:

  - Silco’s strangest habit was the connection he had with his clothes: they looked like Piltover garments, except for the boots and the shirt under the velvet vest, yet they were torn, poorly mended, and worn out in several places  

  - Despite being the richest man in the undercity, he never changed them  

  - The only newer piece in his wardrobe that he used to wear was his coat, which was in perfect condition, scented with cologne, and lined with soft velvet that followed the direction of your fingers when you touched it  

  - Sure, there were ceremonial outfits, pajamas, and something comfortable yet always elegant, but he had worn them so little that they almost didn’t seem like his  

  - That’s why one day you simply decided you were bored, and while he was in a meeting, you could take the opportunity to try on the ones that fit you  

  - But that little fashion show from his wardrobe to the mirror probably took longer than expected, and definitely you were too focused, because you didn’t notice the tall figure watching you, leaning against the doorframe  

  - “Don’t take that off, I’ve got an idea or two,” his voice broke the silence, making you jump  

Jinx:

  - Her clothes are more like a flea market than a wardrobe: there are men’s clothes, women’s clothes, from Piltover and Zaun, intact, held together by metal staples, clean, splattered with paint, torn from explosions, some so small you wonder who they could even fit, and some so large that you and at least four of her father’s henchmen could comfortably fit in them with room to spare  

  - She’s the one who tells you to grab something from the pile the first time you ask to help her with her calculations and experiments, and in the end, you choose something comfortable rather than something intact or clean  

  - It took her a good half hour to notice, and then another hour to stop talking about it  

  - It was something she hadn’t done since she had a family, sharing clothes with someone else, and suddenly she realized just how much she missed it  

  - Every now and then, she’d give you oversized shirts on purpose, just to disappear under the fabric and snuggle up to you, where she felt sheltered enough to feel less vulnerable  

Vi:

  - Vi’s mentality was interesting because, by accident, if she noticed you were eyeing someone’s clothes with interest, somehow the next day those clothes would end up on your bed  

  - Vi would do anything for you; if it were up to her, you’d be dressed in pearls and gold, but neither the place nor her situation allowed it  

  - That’s why she never offered you her clothes: the older ones were tattered, barely definable as rags, which she stubbornly patched up every month  

  - The new ones were stolen, spoils from street fights, but they always came in looking battered and worn, or worse, stained with blood or strange substances, so they weren’t good for you  

  - When she saw you wearing a sweater from her wardrobe, stained and burned in spots, the first thing she felt was guilt  

  - She hated not being able to treat you the way she wanted to  

  - But from that day on, she made sure to at least wash her clothes before putting them away, and slowly she learned to love the clothes you stole a little more than the others  

  - That sweater, for example, she would defend it with her life  

Caitlyn:

  - Whenever you stayed over at her place, she always made sure to provide everything for you: slippers, socks, pajamas, anything you might need  

  - And it was always the highest quality you had ever seen  

  - So seeing you in her clothes wasn’t new, although she sometimes liked to have you try on things she didn’t wear anymore, partly because she couldn’t due to her important name, and partly because she spent half her time in uniform  

  - Those little fashion shows almost always ended with her on top of you, while you are very busy figuring out how to stay quiet so none of the servants, or worse, her parents, would catch you  

  - It didn’t matter if the clothes didn’t suit you, being able to see you in so many different lights made her fall even more in love with everything about you  

  - The final blow? One day she decided to look through the enforcers’ uniforms to find one that would fit you, and for the first time, she saw you in clothes that matched hers  

  - There was something about it that made her hope that uniform would change the chemistry of your brain too and make you join the force, just so she could spend more time with you, just so she could see you like that more often  

Mel:

  - For Mel, it wasn’t an event: she was used to everything, mastering her emotions, and seeing you wearing something of hers had only left her confused for a second, from which she quickly recovered, smiling at you  

  - “It looks really good on you, you know?” she had asked  

  - It didn’t bother her. Objectively, you seemed stupid borrowing those elegant clothes tailored exactly to her body  

  - It almost felt like heresy to wear the clothes of a goddess-like figure. But the goddess had sensed something, and she began buying and commissioning outfits for both you and her, matching, so you wouldn’t feel like you were missing something  

  - But there was one moment, a specific one, where seeing you in one of her dresses had left her speechless  

  - When you told her that the sweater was so beautiful it was almost a shame knowing she couldn’t wear it on the day you’d marry her  

  - And Mel Medarda came from a land of war, where it was hard to get attached to people, let alone objects  

  - Yet from that day, that piece of clothing became a constant for her, even if it meant layering or pulling it down to keep her shoulders bare  

  - Because it no longer just warmed her skin; it began to warm something deeper, something she hadn’t even realized she had  

Sevika:

  - Her clothes reflected her line of work: dirty, unpleasant, dangerous  

  - But despite that, she would drape them over you herself, no matter how worn they were: if she thought you might be cold, without a word, you’d find a sweater or hoodie on your shoulders  

  - And even though she’d glance at you from the corner of her eye, she wouldn’t stop watching you for a single moment when you wore something of hers  

  - It was a matter of homeland—there was no ownership in Zaun, not even last names, as even the family you belonged to was irrelevant compared to what you could do  

  - And the gangs, thugs, and troublemakers wouldn’t hesitate to steal what was yours  

  - But you were hers, and you couldn’t be stolen. And that shirt was hers, but she didn’t feel mutilated, like she normally would, when you wore it  

  - In fact, she loved it, opening her arms to invite you to snuggle up, holding you carefully so the prosthetic wouldn’t bother you, adjusting the clothing on you ten, a hundred times, almost unconsciously  

  - And when you wore her clothes, it felt like for a little while, you could wear her skin too, to understand her better, and she suddenly seemed more vulnerable  

[gojonanami]

❝ 𝐅𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐋 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐘𝐎𝐔 ! ❞

❝ THEY TOOK YOU. SO SATORU GOJO DID THE ONLY REASONABLE THING — HE TOOK THEIR LIVES ! ❞

✧ pairing: gojo satoru x sorcerer!reader

✧ summary: satoru gojo rarely loses his cool. except when it comes to you. so when you get taken and found hurt, he takes matters into his own hands to find out who did it and make them pay.

✧ warnings: 18+, nsfw, smut, canon compliant, feral gojo, acts of violence, reader gets kidnapped and attacked, gojo goes insane, gojo clan sucks, higher ups get asses best, yaga and Ijichi featured, dom!gojo, breeding kink, dirty talk, oral (f), fingering (f! receiving), sex (p in v), creampie, implied multiple rounds, swearing,

✧ w/c: 8,446

The worst mistake Satoru Gojo ever made that morning was to get out of bed.

If he had just stayed in bed that morning, turned his cellphone on silent, and basked in the warmth of the soft comforter you had picked out (even as you balked at the exorbitant price) and especially in the warmth of your embrace — the one place where it felt as if it was okay to be himself, just him.

And now it was just him.

Because you were gone.

When his phone rang that morning, your lips had been against his, indulging in a lazy morning tryst because for once, Satoru had been off duty — or he was supposed to be off duty. Your gaze had been the ones to stir him from sleep, as even in the embrace of sleep he couldn’t resist you or your adoring eyes — the very same he held more precious than his own.

“I didn’t even say anything, how did you wake up?” And his lips curl at your slight frown, his fingers brushing over the curve of your cheek.

“Thought my pretty wife was admiring my beauty while I slept so I had to wake up to the same,” and he’s leaning over to press lazy kisses along your jaw.

“Did you just call yourself beautiful?” You snort, and he grins, before falling into a playful pout.

“My own wife doesn’t think her husband’s beautiful?” And you’re rolling your eyes, before rolling over on top of him, your body only covered by the black t-shirt you had stolen from him last night, a small groan as he felt your very bare thighs brush against his boxers.

You were a goddess — your smile ethereal in the sunlight streaming in from the window as you leaned over him, and he was willing to worship all his life at your altar, if you would only give him a brush of your lips.

“Of course I think you’re beautiful, I’m the one always saying that anyway,” your lips brush his chastely, far too quick and teasing, “I was just imagining what Nanami would say if he heard that,”

“Oh? And what’s that, sweetheart?”

“He would say the size of your ego is becoming a threat to Earth’s atmosphere,” and Satoru raises an eyebrow.

“And my darling wife would disagree, right?” and you look away, biting back a smile, “eh? You’d let him say such heinous things about me?”

“It’s not heinous if it’s true—“ you gasp, and he’s flipped you on your back, pressing his lips to yours to swallow your words, along with your giggles, as you break free, “Toru! Ah—“ and he nibbles at your neck, “hey!”

“You have to pay for the consequences of your actions, baby, what kind of sensei would I be?” And you’re rolling your eyes.

“I’m not your student, ngh,” you’re gasping as his teeth sinks into your neck, “if anything, I’m the one reigning you in,”

“Well then,” he chuckled in his words, as his fingers trace your jaw, “I’ll have to show you how far your student has come then,” and his lips only brush yours, when his phone rings.

“Baby,” you sigh, and he’s glancing at the phone, a sigh on his lips, as he reaches for the phone, sneaking a glance at you, before he picks up.

You press sweet kisses to his chest as you hear the faint murmur of Yaga’s voice through the phone, hearing reports of the special grades they’ve been tracking, “Old man, this is the first day off I’ve taken off in so looooong,” and he holds the phone away from his ear until Yaga’s screams fade, “fine, fine, send Ijichi,” he hangs up while Yaga was still mid-yell, tossing his phone on the bedside table with a sigh, “sweetheart,”

“I know,” you cup his cheek, his lips in a pout not made for the strongest sorcerer, but for your Satoru, “I’ll be here when you come back — waiting very impatiently,” and he chuckles, his lips finding yours.

“How’d I get so lucky to have such an understanding wife?” And your lips curl.

“You annoyed her into falling in love,” and he gapes at you as you giggle, until he’s got you pinned underneath him yet again, “what? It’s true!”

“Then I’ll have to annoy you some more, just to make sure,” and he’s finding you in another kiss, until his devilish fingers run down your sides, beginning their assault on the spots that made you laugh the most.

You pulled your lips from his, squealing, “Nooooo! Satoru, stop!” you tried to push him off from tickling you, but he was the strongest for a reason—a reason you usually were very grateful for, but not right now. And finally he relented, as you gasped and chuckled still, lips in the most adorable pout, “you’ll pay for that,”

“Oh really? How’s that, wifey?” and you kiss his lips chastely, barely a brush, as you cross your arms, fighting back a smile.

“That’s the only goodbye kiss you get,” and he gasps, clutching his chest dramatically, before that smirk of his returns, “and you try to steal one and I’m making you sleep on the couch,” And he pouts, before you press a longer kiss to his lips, “you’re lucky I love you,”

Satoru grinned, “I know.”’

Yeah, he should have never gotten out of bed.

“Where is she?” For once, Satoru’s words were devoid of humor, the laughter and happiness sapped from his very essence the moment he had heard. The moment he had felt your cursed energy waver. All this time, Satoru’s eyes had been focused on the outline of your soul, no matter where he was, because you were always the one thing he wanted to come home to — that he needed to.

“I don’t know Satoru, that’s why I had called you,” Yaga runs his fingers through his hair, “goddamnit,” he swore, scrubbing a hand down his face, “the mission came from the higher ups, they wouldn’t give me the specifics, but they said it was confidential—“

“I don’t care for the details right now, do we know anything about where she is?” Satoru keeps his words carefully measured, muscles wound taut, the only thing keeping him from using blue to destroy Jujutsu Tech in one fell swoop was the thought of you, “did she tell you anything else—“

And Ijichi bursts in, brow furrowed, “Gojo, we have a lead.”

~~~

Was this how it would end?

You knew it was in your fate to die, eventually. A wretched cycle that all of you were forced to live. An endless baton pass that always ended with the last runner dying — nothing but a pile of corpses left behind and to look back on.

And it would almost be a relief, a blessing to finally be done — if it wasn’t for Satoru.

You knew he would blame himself for this. He always blamed himself. Blamed himself when he couldn’t beat Toji. Blamed himself when he couldn’t save Riko. Blamed himself when he couldn’t save Geto. Because he was the strongest, and that meant he should be able to solve everyone’s problems — do everything no one else can do, be everywhere at once, and never fail.

Never. And yet, that’s not what the sleepless nights he spent working told you. It only told you that jujutsu would take everything from him, if he let it, and he would let it, if only that meant he could do more good.

And he was so good. Even if he didn’t see it — you could almost feel the lingering warmth of his embrace this morning, the wide grin on his lips as he peppered kisses down your neck, and the soft gaze of blues made of affection just for you — you would always see it for him.

You don’t see the curse coming, your vision blurred from the last strike. The crack of your bones barely registers in your ears, the curse presses you into the wall, claws pressed to your throat, drawing blood to run down your neck.

“Now, now, we can’t kill her, at least not yet,” a voice calls out, “we were given strict orders to wait,”

The curse’s growl reverberated across your skin, a desperate growl deep in its chest, the string of control being pulled taut, as its black nails dig deeper into your side, until it dropped you onto the ground like a rag doll.

Your body ached only for moments before it was chased away by numbness. And you could only wonder if this was how they felt? Riko, Haibara, Geto, all the others you watched die — was this the pain they felt? The ache of muscles that they could no longer feel, the sticky wetness of blood that seeped from their unknowing bodies, and the cold thst crept up from the tips of your toes.

You wanted it to stop. You wanted to stop. But each time you felt the tug of the other side, you couldn’t let go. You couldn’t. Not when Satoru needed you.

Your eyes burn with tears. And you needed him.

~~~

“Where is she?” The same question was ringing in Satoru’s head over and over since he had heard.

Candle wicks trembled with fear, casting shadows on the wall that shivered in the presence of the man before them. The papered panels was all that stood between him and these old men — the very same that played with the lives of many day in and day out. It would be far too easy to kill them all — in fact, it would barely take any effort at all with his cursed technique.

But he wouldn’t allow them the warm embrace of an instant death.

“Such insolence — how dare you enter this place and speak—“

“You ought to be thanking me,” his power sparked in the glint of his eyes, the glow of the lit wicks catching in the hard blues, “for not bashing your skulls in and ripping your hearts from your chests from the moment I entered,”

A silence swept over the room, another voice speaking, “Gojo—“

“The next words out of your mouth better be an answer because I don’t want to ask again,” his voice fills the silence in the room, only broken by the sounds of the candles crackle, “where is she?”

“We cannot disclose where—“ there’s a loud crack, the splintering of wood and the wet squelch of flesh and blood, and a cold breeze swept through the room, the candles going out.

Satoru’s fingers dug into the soft flesh of his neck, forcing the broken floorboards digging into his wrinkled skin, “I said I want an answer, do you think I would think twice about killing any of you?”

There’s a pause and the silence is only filled by the sound of gore dripping down the paper screens and hitting the floor.

“The only reason I haven’t yet was there was no point to it — no meaning,” and he could see you this morning, his lips curled for you, a strangled choking noise leaving his throat as the pads of his fingers squeezed around his neck, “but now I have every reason to, so tell me before I lose my patience,”

A silence fills the room again, until one of them speaks, “Let him go, and we’ll tell you.”

~~~

“Who do you work for?” the words come out strangled, your fingers bunching up your soaked fabric and pressing it to the gash on your stomach, “why did you bring me here?” You force yourself not to give them the satisfaction of a flinch.

“Do you really think it would be that simple to get me to reveal the reason, jujutsu sorcerer?” you hear a distant laugh, “we have our reasons, isn’t that simple enough? Or rather—”

His footsteps clapped against the floor, your head wrenched upwards, as a small yelp escapes your lips, “does it matter when you’re going to die either way?”

And you grit your teeth, before spitting on his face, half blood, half saliva, “At least I don’t have to live a life as pathetic as yours,” his fingers squeeze at your chin, your jaw aching under his grasp.

“Pathetic?” He wipes his face with the sleeve of his shirt before, throwing you to the floor, body screaming in pain, but you refuse to show weakness, even as tears burn at your tear ducts, “And yet, I’m not the one bloodied and battered and two inches from death, bitch,” he scoffs, muttering, “I can see why they ordered us to kill you now, who would want someone like you around?”

“Now I’m listening, who gave you those orders?” Another voice says from behind him. The man freezes, while you lift your head, a small smile on your lips, “are you hard of hearing or just plain stupid? Well, I don’t really need to even ask that, do I?”

He was shrouded in shadow, but you didn’t need to see him to know it was him — especially as he tugged his blindfold down with two fingers, blue eyes devoid of any humor or joy, and instead only with hatred.

“Satoru Gojo,” the voice left the man’s lips slowly, but before he could react, the special grade curse that had held you was barreling towards him in a moment, before Satoru held it at bay with his infinity, the other curses following suit — how many did this curse user have in the room with him? Three? No more like five or six, but even so — you scoffed under your breath, it wouldn’t matter, “No, you idiots! Don’t—”

And in a moment, they are eviscerated — held back by his infinity, deep seeded growls and roars leaving their lips, “c’mon now, is this the best you can do? I was expecting more from those bold enough to take my wife, but I guess I expected too much,” he sighs, before he lifts one hand, “Cursed Technique Amplification, Blue,”

You barely can make out the screams from one another, the splatter of their essence raining down from above, until you hear footsteps rushing towards you, and you’re hauled to your feet, pressed against the cursed user, his hand around your neck.

“One more move, and I break her neck,” Satoru landed below with ease, his gaze raised until he met yours, and you saw it soften for you — a silent question of ‘are you okay?’ and your nod and a forced smile that told him you were okay enough.

“You can try,” his words were slow and measured, just as his steps towards you were, “but I don’t think you understand who you are dealing with,”

He tensed, fingers digging into your neck, “I know perfectly well who you are, Satoru Gojo, and I am not afraid to die by your hand for this,”

Satoru’s lips curled, “I wasn’t talking about me,”

The kidnapper’s eyes narrowed, “What?”

And you jabbed at his knee, the bone splintering under your force, but you barely hear the snap or his scream because of the blood roaring in your ears. You don’t spare a second before slamming your other hand into his head, nose breaking from your fist, blood splattering across your arm. You ready yourself for another move, before you felt him ripped away from you, a strong arm around you to steady you.

“It’s okay, I got you, sweetheart, it’s okay,” Satoru murmured, soft words meant to soothe you, as his body envelops your tense muscles, until you finally relax into his arms. Your eyes burned with tears, as you looked up at him, before your eyes slid to the kidnapper, Satoru’s hand around his throat.

“I knew you’d come for me, Toru,” you whispered, grasping onto the front of his jacket, “I knew you would,”

“I always will,” and his eyes turned to the man, voice even, “should I kill him once I’m done questioning him?”

You know he means it.

“I don’t know,” you reply, fingers curling as you pressed your face against his chest, “but I don’t want you to have blood on your hands, not for me,”

“It wouldn’t be for you. It would be for me,” he says softly, “but we can discuss it later,” and then others began to flood the scene, the sights and sounds feeling distant as your eyes drooped with exhaustion.

“Satoru, I’m—“ your voice broke, “I really tried—“

“Shh, you did great,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your head, as you finally succumbed to exhaustion, slumping over in his arms, “I’ll handle the rest.”

~~~

“You all must be wondering why I called this meeting,” Satoru said, standing at the head of the Gojo clan’s meeting room. It had been long since he had stood as the head, but far too short for his liking. He had discarded this part of his life as soon as he could, joining Jujutsu Tech without a second of hesitation, and continued to run the operations of his clan as an adult, behind the scenes.

But it seems he was too lax.

It had been a few weeks since the incident. You were asleep for a good day in and out while Shoko worked on you. She came out of your room, pulling off the surgical cap off her head, and Satoru got to his feet, as Shoko removed her gloves and mask, “She’s fine, Satoru,” and he sighs, scrubbing a hand down his face.

“How bad was it?” he asks, and she tilts her head, hands slipping into her pockets.

“Are you asking that to know how badly she was injured or so you can do worse to whoever did this?” Satoru shrugs, lips parting and she holds up a hand, “never mind, the less I know, the better,” she grabs your file and opens it, “most of her injuries related to cursed technique burn out — it seems whoever took her used curse spirits to attack her, she mentioned when she was conscious briefly that they didn’t control the curses, but they seemed to be able to work with them somehow,”

“More intelligent curses have been appearing since Yuji became Sukuna’s vessel,” Satoru murmured, but this wasn’t related to the asparagus special grade or volcano head. It was separate — it was personal.

“But all of this to take a first grade sorcerer, why?” and he shakes his head.

“It wasn’t for her — it was for me,” and that’s why they hadn’t killed you, “is she awake?”

Shoko sighed, “She should be waking up in a bit. She didn’t need much aside from some RCT treatment and stitches for the wounds she sustained,” she places a hand on his shoulder, “go see her, and try not to murder anyone until she wakes up,” she turns to leave, heels clicking.

“Wait,” Satoru stops her, and she pauses, “I need a favor.”

~~~

Satoru never liked hospitals. He hadn’t spent much time in them for actual injuries, because of his abilities. However, he spent far too much time inside medical facilities for the Gojo clan’s required medical check-ups. It was to ensure the future head’s health, he was told, but really, it was an excuse to make sure their cash cow would still give them milk.

Because that’s all he ever was — a pawn.

But he had long shed that role, tossed it from the board, when he had left for Jujutsu Tech. But even so, he lingered outside your room, some things still stuck. Especially when he had new memories — of seeing his comrades dead bodies laid on cold metal slabs.

And would you have been another if he hadn’t made it in time?

Satoru shakes his head of his thoughts, and opens the door. You were still asleep. Tucked into the hospital bed, you looked so small somehow, fragile — two things he never saw you as. How could he have? When you were the one on his first day to greet him and then slap him when he had something pretentious or childish (neither of you remembered but you had insisted it was one or the other).

And he had never let you go after that. But now…he couldn’t even hold you.

The sharp beeps of the machine monitoring your vitals, connected by the tubes and wires that ran all over your body. He reaches for his blindfold so he can look at you, really look at you, but he can’t. His fingers curled into fists at his sides, nails digging into the soft of his palms,

But you were alive. You were alive. You were alive.

That’s what he had to tell himself as he drew closer to your side — no matter how you looked now, you were okay. And that’s what was most important.

“Are you going to brood by my bedside all day?” his gaze snaps to you, your eyes fluttering open still, still drooping and exhausted, but a soft smile on your lips, “Because hospitals are depressing enough, Toru,”

He chuckles, forcing his tears back and his voice to be event, “Sorry, sweetheart, I forgot to pull out the stops for you this time,” and his fingers find yours, lacing as they always did, but they felt so cold, “next time I’ll bring confetti, balloons, streamers, and I’ll serenade you even—”

You snort, “You may be the best at everything, but I know you’ll sing offkey on purpose just to piss off Shoko or anyone else that visits me,” and he laughs shakily, a sigh stuck in his throat.

He presses his forehead to yours, “I love you, so much, y’know that, yeah?”

“I love you too, so much, Toru,” you cup his cheeks, turning your head to press your lips to his hand, “thank you for saving me,”

“You saved yourself, I just cleaned up a little,” his lips find yours in a soft kiss, and your brow furrowed, “what? Are my kissing skills that bad?”

You roll your eyes, “No, but are you okay?” and he scoffs softly, shaking his head.

“You’re the one who got kidnapped and hurt, and you’re asking me if I’m—”

“Satoru, you asked me if you should murder that guy,” you tilted your head, “I know you’re not against killing if it’s necessary or deserved, but the way you said it, I got worried,”

“I’m fine, I just—” he cut off, “I just need to figure out who did this,” you squeeze his hand, “I have to,”

“Satoru—“

“I know you’re okay, but you don’t know how afraid I was that you wouldn’t be—“ he cuts off, “and it’s not just that,” his fingers curl around yours tighter, “it’s not just us we’ll have to worry about in the future. We’re already a family, but what will happen if someone targets you and our future kids?” He takes a shaky breath at the thought,

“I have to make an example.”

Your gaze grows sad, pressing a kiss to his lips, if only to ground him for a moment, “I know,” but you frown all the same, “but promise me, you won’t do anything stupid, ok?”

But he was far from stupid — but the people before him were as close as anyone could get.

“You all are aware of my wife’s attack a few weeks ago,” he said in measured words, swallowing the lump in his throat, “I’m here to tell you that she has succumbed to her wounds,” his voice wavered, breaking, “she’s gone,”

There were whispers and murmurs that swept over the room, all were silenced by the lift of a hand — one of the Gojo Clan elders, the geezer leader as he liked to call him.

“I’m sorry for your loss, Satoru,” he said, lips twisted in a fake frown, “we heard that your beloved wife passed from her injuries a week ago,”

“And yet, I see you’ve brought someone for me to meet,” his eyes slide to the woman dressed for a wedding rather than a meeting, “to what do I owe the pleasure?”

The woman’s painted lips kept in a neutral expression, her body so rigid he could have mistaken her as a statue if not for his six eyes, and her eyes refused to meet his.

“Satoru, I understand you are mourning, but we have to think of the future of the Gojo clan, and our future place in the Jujutsu world is only as secure as the next heir—“

“And so you thought to disrespect my wife by trying to marry your choice?” but their brows furrow as he begins to laugh, one that sends shivers down their backs.

The elders all gape at him, sharing looks, before turning back to him as his laughter finally settles into a quiet chuckle, “Satoru, what is this?”

“It’s funny that you ever thought I’d fall for this bullshit,” he pulls off his sunglasses, cerulean eyes gleaming in the low light, “did you know my wife was never supposed to be sent on this mission? Or rather, there were no reports of cursed spirits in the area, but yet, orders came for her to report to where she was,”

A hush falls over the group, “And why are you telling us this?”

“Because I think you all have forgotten your place,” in a blink, he’s grasping the neck of the elder, the very same man who had taken him away from his parents at the age of two to ensure his training was done properly, “I am the strongest, not the Gojo clan. I’m the only Gojo needed for the clan to be prosperous,”

“You insolent child—“ Satoru squeezes around his neck, gasps and whimpers clawing their way out from his grip, veins bulging as he tried and failed to pull Satoru’s hands off. He had even let the old man penetrate his infinity and all he had managed was a scratch or two.

“You should be careful when you’re talking to the ‘child’ who has your life in his hands,” and he grows silent, “now, to get back to the point, where did those orders come from?”

A quiet washed over the room, the only sounds were the shaky gasps of the elder in his hand, “W-what are—“

“I had a chat with the higher ups — those rotten old geezers may not like me, but I know they like all their limbs intact,” he drops the elder and twists his arm behind his back, wrenching back until he heard a cracking noise, “and they told me the orders came from the Gojo clan, and I wondered why would my own clan send the wife of the head off to be executed,”

“Satoru—“ one of the elders spoke, and he tilted his head.

“If you want him to die, your excuses will only make this go faster,” and his mouth shuts, “I’ll take your silence as a confirmation that all of you had a hand in this,” he sighs, removing his sunglasses, running his fingers through his hair, “man, I’ve had conspiracies against me, but I never guessed you’d target the one person I value above everything else. But I knew you would fail her little test,”

He’s met with furrowed brows and gritted teeth, the elder looking up at him in fear, “W-what?”

“You see if I had it my way, I would have killed you all, no questions asked,” his fingers close over the top of his head, wrenching him backwards to meet his gaze, “But my wife, my very much alive wife,” he adds, with a glance to the woman looking increasingly faint with each second that passes, “she would want me to see if you’d come clean about the plan and whether some of you were innocent,” his lips curl, “but she doesn’t know the bloody history of the Gojo clan like we do,” and his fingers dig into the flesh of the elder, “so what’s a few more bloodstains?”

He tears off his head, screams ringing out as a rush of scarlet paints the walls, splattering across the other elders. The woman offered to be his wife rings over the others, her shrill shriek piercing their eardrums. It’s a dull thud as the lifeless corpse falls to the floor, as Satoru wiped the blood from his cheek, a cock of his head and eyes flashing with anger.

“You can’t do this! You—“ Satoru’s fist connects with his face, blood flooding his features.

“I can, because I’ve decided the Gojo clan needs to get rid of the tumors that infect it, and besides,” his body crumples to the floor as his foot slams into their stomach, a sick, wet noise that draws gasps and open mouthed silent screams from the others, “what are you going to do about it?”

“Please, please, she’s alive—” one of them begged, all of them falling to their knees, wrinkled faces contorted in fear, blown out eyes and faces wet with tears only making them more ugly than he thought was possible — he really couldn’t end up like these geezers, “we only wanted what was best—we wanted the next head of the clan to be even more powerful than you are—”

He laughs, not an ounce of mirth or levity, shivers running down the spines of the others who watched, as he stepped over the body of the elder, lips twisted into a wide grin, “And there’s your mistake,”

He loomed over the one who spoke, shadow cast over him, as his fingers curled around his arm, before breaking it off, spurts of blood splattering on his clothes, mixing with the other — some of it flecked across his face.

Satoru wiped his face with his forearm, tilting his head. He knew they were begging and pleading — lips moving, words forming, but it all fell on deaf ears. After all they had never bothered to listen to any sorcerer before, did they? Suguru’s face came to mind — flashes of the spring he would never get back — so why should he listen to theirs?

“You were too busy worrying about the next head, when you should’ve been worried about the current one.”

~~~~

You were asleep.

Moonlight gave way to your features in the pitch black room, your soft breaths warming his fingers that ran over your cheek. Shoko had discharged you yesterday, and he had brought you home — but even now with you home, he couldn’t sleep. It felt as if you’d disappear the moment he took his eyes off you, slipping from his grasp just as you almost did.

But you didn’t. You’re here.

It was the same words you had whispered to him every night when he had curled up beside you, “I’m not going anywhere, I’m here, aren’t I?”

But you could disappear.

You could if he wasn’t there with you — if he wasn’t fast enough. Because he couldn’t be everywhere at once, not even the strongest could accomplish that. But he wanted to keep you safe all the same. Would it be selfish to lock you up? Hide you away somewhere others could never find you? Keep you hidden if only to keep you safe.

But you never would be safe, not while you were with him.

“Toru?” Your voice breaks him from his thoughts, eyes fluttering open to meet his as your fingers reach for his cheek, “is that blood?”

And he’s pinned your hands in a blink of an eye, quickly and quietly, “it’s not mine,” his gaze glows in the dark, catching the moonlight streaming in, and he’s leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead.

“Toru, what happened?” And he kisses along your cheekbones, your jaw, your nose, your chin, “Satoru—“

“I killed them,” his fingers trace the folds of the satin robe he had helped you into, brushing against the bandages that hid your wounds from his sight, but he could see them all the same, “the people who did this,”

Your brow furrows, “Toru, what do you mean the people who—“

“Why do you stay with me?” He leans down to find your lips in a bruising kiss, lips sliding against yours as his fingers undo the knot of your robe, letting the fabric fall away from your bare body.

“What—“ his lips part from yours, strings of spit connecting your mouths.

“Why do you stay with me when I’m a monster?” and your eyes soften.

“You’re not—“ and he’s cutting you off with another kiss, as your hands struggle under his grip, the other grazing down your side, finding the swell of your hip only to squeeze.

“I’m the perfect weapon,” he kisses down the side of your neck, teeth grazing against your soft flesh harshly, drawing a gasp from your lips, “I could have killed them all, because I know they all knew—“

“Knew what?”

“My clan elders — they wanted to have you die on a mission, they wanted to stage it, so they could have me marry who they wanted,” he pauses, drawing a finger down the valley of your breasts, “create a perfect heir,”

“Satoru—“

He kisses you again, swallowing your words along with your thoughts, parting only to speak, “so I killed them, I didn’t use my cursed technique, I wanted them to feel the pain they gave you, wanted them to feel a fraction of what you did,”

You can’t find a second to speak, his fingers now sliding up your bare leg, as he presses himself closer, erection against your inner thigh, “Toru, you didn’t have to put yourself through that—“

“I wanted to,” he parts your thighs easily, large palm spread against your inner thigh, fingers toying with the edge of your panties, “wanted to tear them to shreds for what they did to you — and what they wanted to do—”

“I’m okay, Satoru, I’m—” a bitter laugh leaves his throat, as his fingers find your bandages again.

“Do you call coming home half dead okay now by jujutsu sorcerer standards?” he shakes his head, running his fingers through his hair, “I told you after Suguru that I would fix this rotten jujutsu world,” he presses kisses up your thigh, “and their deaths did fix one thing — no sorcerer will touch you or our future children again, especially when they speak to the woman the clan wanted to marry off to when your body wasn’t even cold yet,”

“You left her,” and he nods, eyes unable to meet yours.

“I only killed the elders I gathered, anyone else was spared — they didn’t dig their own graves,” his hand loosens around your wrists and you reach for his cheek, cupping his cheek, despite the blood, “I don’t regret it, I’d kill anyone who hurts you, but I didn’t want you to see me like this,”

“Like what?”

“Like a monster,” and you click your tongue, his eyes flitting to yours.

“You’re my Satoru, not a monster, you did what you did to protect me, protect our family,” you murmur, “that’s just about the most Satoru thing you could do,”

“But—“

“And if you are deemed a monster anyway?” You lean up, fingers smearing the blood against your own cheek, “then I’ll just become a monster with you,”

He crashes into you with a kiss, cupping your cheeks, as his tongue slips into your mouth, “can you really be a monster, sweetheart?”

He drags his lips down your neck, his teeth grazing your soft flesh along the hollow of your throat, “T-Toru—“ and his lips find the swell of your breasts, his tongue dragging over your pert nipple, while his fingers hook into the elastic of your panties, snapping it against your skin, “y’know I can be, I would be, for you,”

He peers up through half lidded eyelids, his thumb drags down your puffy bottom lip, “I can’t imagine someone so sweet like you as one,” he murmurs, as he pulls back, lips slick with spit, as he drags his fingers toying with the soaked fabric of your panties, “and I wouldn’t want to drag you down with me,”

Your fingers reach forward, propping yourself up on your other arm, “Drag me or not,” you cup his chin, “you’re stuck with me,”

“Can we make it a binding vow?” you roll your eyes, and his lips curl for the first time since he’s got here, “c’mon sweets, I have to get my reassurance somehow,”

You hold up the giant rock on your finger, the very diamond you had told Satoru was too much, “this wasn’t enough—” the last word is a bite back gasp, as he noses at the drenched crotch of your underwear, a deep inhale that has you squirming, “No, Toru—” but he’s pinned your thighs down, prying them open, as he gazes up at you.

“Uh-uh, princess, I don’t remember saying you could move, especially when you could reopen your wounds,” his nose bumps against your clothed clit, a wicked smile as he drags his tongue over the already wet fabric, “you still haven’t seen how much of a monster I can be.”

~~~

“Ngh, Toru, can’t, I can’t—” but you can — you know you can from the heat building in your sloppy cunt under already soaked through sheets, and he knows too well you can too, from the way your pussy flutters around his three fingers, knuckle deep as they piston in and out, while his mouth toys with your abused clit, “please—”

You lost track of how many times you had orgasmed — his fingers, his mouth, and sometimes both — he had pulled each one after the other, allowing small reprieves, only to bury himself back in. He had even had you ride his face at one point, and you were sure he’d suffocate under your drenched cunt, until he flipped you on your back again.

“Please what, sweets?” he slows his fingers, curling them a certain way that makes your lips fall open, “you’ll have to use your words,” he pulls back.

Chest heaving, chin glistening with your release, his tongue cleaned his lips off before he wiped the rest off, before pressing open mouthed kisses to your inner thighs. And soon enough, his fingers were sinking back into your messy pussy, splitting you open with his thick fingers.

“Didn’t you say you wanted this, sweetheart?” his words cut through the wet squelch of his digits fucking you open, “wanted to drag you down with you, wanted this—” and he sucks hard at your clit, tongue flicking over it, making your back arch, “wanted me to drag you down with me,” and he punctuates it with a thrust of his fingers, brushing against a spot that has you seeing spots, “gotta make good on your promise, and I have to erase all the pain they gave you,”

And you barely manage to latch onto the desperation in his voice, the way the facade flickers.

He fucks you ever so slightly deeper, and you cum hard, tearing through you as your body tenses, pleasure washing over you as it did every single other time, melding into the others, “Good girl,” he murmurs, as he works his fingers through your orgasm, the slick noises becoming white noise, until he finally pulls the digits from inside you.

Your eyes flutter open to the sight of him licking his digits clean one by one of your cum, his lips curled in a soft smile as they meet your gaze, his hand sliding up your thigh gently as it quaked, the very same fingers he had used to murder the people that hurt you, were so gentle when it was you — he was always so gentle when it was you.

But never himself.

You reach up for him, palm cupping his cheek, while the other finds his bare shoulder — clothes long discarded, “I love you,” and the cracks spread, spider webbing from the epicenter, “you know that right?”

His words seem caught in the back of his throat, “Even now?”

“Especially now,” and he’s pressing you against the mattress again, your thighs folded against your chest, legs slung over his shoulders, “you saved me,”

His gaze softened, “you saved me first,” and again and again, he couldn’t count the number of times you did, by just existing, pressing a kiss to the side of your thigh, “but if I’m too late next time?”

“You can’t be everywhere,” your fingers lace with his, “and I just need you,” and still in this situation, his ego can inflate at your praise — nosing at your thigh, a deep inhale, before dragging his tongue up the side of your leg, “only you.”

He drags his weeping erection over your soaked folds, leaking tip teasing your slit while he watched his pre mix with yours, “Think you need more than just me,” and when he lets the tip sink into you, your lips part with his name, just as your walls part for him, “want something else, wifey?”

“You’re the worst,” you look up at him, lips curling despite your pout, your fingers grasping at the sheets under you, as your cunt tries to swallow him whole, “Toru, how long are you going to tease me for?”

And he’s pulling out only to draw a groan from your lips, “If you’re such a monster, thought you could take it—“ and your hand reaches for him, tugging him close by his neck.

“I swear to god, if you don’t fuck me right now—“

He grins, “If you insist,”

Fuck.

He sinks into you all at once, all too fast and all too slow, balls deep as he bottoms out inside you, your walls fluttering only to pull him deeper, “fuck,” your head falls back as his tip brushes against your cervix, “too fucking big, I swear if you rip my stitches open—”

“You don’t think I cleared this before I decided to do this, baby?” He grunts, glancing down to see how your messy hole stretched open as he sunk into you, “can’t believe anyone thought I’d fuck anyone but you — you’re the only one for me, sweetheart,”

You couldn’t help but notice his eyes flicker to your pussy stuffed full with his huge dick, “You talking to me or my cunt—“ and he begins to fuck you, remark undercut by the moan that he pulled from your lips, “f-fucker—“

“That’s exactly what you wanted, isn’t it sweetheart?” the lewd sounds of skin slapping together filled the room, his soft grunts and your moans, “wanted me to fuck you open, yeah?” and he wanted this, needed this after this week — it had been too long since he felt you under him like this — real and alive, his name leaving your swollen, kiss bitten lips.

And you needed it just the same — needed his fingers to dig into the softness of your thighs, needed the way only he could fill every inch of you, needed the soft murmurs of how good you felt, how much he loved you.

“Fuck, Toru, so fast,” you whine, but how could slow down he when you felt so good — so wet and warm, you had joked he could cum just looking at you alone barely a fist around his dick, but it was true — and being inside you just made him unravel completely, all sense of himself lost and drowning in just you, “hngh, it’s so deep,” you babble, tears burning at the corners of your eyes.

“That’s right, sweetheart, gonna fuck you deep, gotta make sure you feel it don’t I?” he coos, and his hand snakes between your thighs, pressing his palm to the bulge in your stomach, making you gasp as your walls clench around him, drawing a grunt from his lips, “that’s it, good girl,”

You keen at his praise, the wet squelch of your cunt around his cock ringing in your ears, balls slapping against your pussy with a rhythm that echoes in your head, as your body arches into him, needing him deeper, harder, faster. He’s nearly rutting into you, his thrusts growing shallow as you clamp down on him, achingly close.

“Those old fucking geezers don’t know what they were talking about—“ he grunts, running his mouth all the same even as he sunk impossibly fucking deeper, “don’t know this is the only cunt I’d ever breed. The only one I’d ever breed. The only one I can. Know why?” And you only can whimper, as his fingers rub against your clit, “because this is the only one made for my cum,”

And his words push you over the edge, cumming hard and fast, head lolling back, as his tip bullies your womb, as he fucks you hard over and over through your orgasm, sending pleasure ripping up your spine. Satoru groans as he feels you spasm, soaking in him in your juices, as he watches a white ring of your cum form around the base of his dick, dripping onto the clean sheets with the evidence of your arousal.

He can’t hold back.

He rails into you, a moan of your name falling past your lips making you pull him close, shifting your legs around his back just so he can sink into you even a centimeter deeper—

“Fuck, g’nna cum,” he’s meeting your glazed over eyes, knowing “gonna fill you up, yeah? Get you nice and round with my baby,” he groans at the thought, the image of you carrying his kid, stomach swollen as you grow his child, “and they’ll know, all of them, that you’re the only one I’d cum in,” and he’s so close, dick twitching as your arms around his neck tug him close.

“Cum in me, Toru, give me our baby,” and that’s it, he’s spilling inside you, spurting his hot release inside, again and again, as he fucks it deeper, filling you up.

“That’s it, take every drop,” he’s relentless, until he finally eases from you, his release trickling out. A soft sigh parts your lips that grows into a sharp gasp as he’s already flipping you over onto your stomach.

“Toru—” you whine.

“Aw did you think we were done sweetheart?” a pillow cushions your still bandaged stomach, placed underneath to support you, a shudder down your body as he rubs his cock against you, as he leans down, hot words murmured against your ear with a grin, before he sinks back into you with one thrust, stuffing his spilling cum back inside, “One thing about monsters are that we also have monstrous stamina.”

~~~

It was early, but Satoru was already awake.

He always had trouble sleeping, but now? His eyes found your sleeping form beside him, under the covers and safe, just as he had left you that morning. He didn’t know if he’d ever sleep more than three hours now. He brushed the back of his knuckles over your cheek, but you needed sleep — one of three things you never could live without (food and himself being the other two). And you definitely needed it now, after he had kept you up — nearly all night.

You shifted in your sleep, revealing several blooming hickies and love bites he had littered your body with, lips curling at the sight, as he pulled the blanket back up around you.

He was selfish — he should have divorced you the moment he had gotten you back. Let you leave because it was the right thing to do — to let you live a life safe without him. But he couldn’t — because he couldn’t imagine waking another morning, spending another day without knowing where you were, how you were doing.

It was selfish. But you let him be — especially when it came to you.

And his phone vibrates on the nightstand, whirring again and again, as he picks it up with a sigh, Yaga’s name flashing on the display. He takes one last glance at you before slipping from bed, stepping into the living room.

“Sensei! To what—“ he hardly gets a word out before screams fill his ears. He rubs his chin, it was too early for this.

He makes out the words — Gojo clan, dead, scandal, murder (wasn’t sure if he meant if he was going to murder Gojo or he meant what happened to the elders).

“It was a clan dispute, there was no need to tell you,”

Satoru held the phone away from his ear, Yaga’s yelling told him everything he needed to know, “Yeah, yeah, I know, the higher ups know — or they probably do by now,” he almost chuckles at the thought, and how he would love to do the same to them — knuckles white as he grips his phone — love to make them feel the same pain the sorcerers cared nothing for felt, make them—

Arms curl around him from behind and he knows it’s you, his body relaxing into your touch with practiced ease, your face buried in his back. His fingers relax, finding yours, tracing over the back, as he lifts one hand to his lips.

—But it wasn’t the time for that.

“Fine, fine, no need to have a heart attack, old man — I’ll talk to them tomorrow,” Yaga was still speaking until Satoru hung up, turning to face yoy, your eyes half closed as his fingers found your cheek, “what are you doing awake, sweets?”

His lips curl as you lean into his touch, “you weren’t next to me when I woke up,” you murmur, nose brushing against his fingers as your eyes flutter open and closed, “how am I supposed to sleep when my pretty husband isn’t next to me?”

“Just pretty?” and you snort, as his arm sneaks around your waist, pulling you to his chest, your head right over his heart, a content sigh on your lips.

“Are you ever serious?”

“Always,” and you smile up at him, chin resting against him, “what is it? Do I got something on my face?”

“You think our baby will have your pretty face?” You hum, and his gaze softens at the thought, “I hope so,”

He grins, “You do huh? And here I thought my ego didn’t need more stroking,”

“It doesn’t, but my husband deserves every bit of praise he gets — because he doesn’t get enough,” you kiss him softly, nose bumping against his.

“You planning on showering me with your praise, sweetheart?” And your lips finds his again.

“Always,” and he’s leading you back towards the bedroom, “where are you—“ you squeal as he scoops you up into his arms and carries you back to bed, gently placing you down, a grin on his lips.

He drags his thumb down your kiss ruined lips, “Do you think I’m gonna let you leave this bed without breeding you right?” He clicks his tongue, “I’m far from done with you, wifey,”

You’re so beautiful, hair spread on the pillow like a halo, “So we’re not leaving until I’m pregnant?” Your fingers brush against his cheek, “we might be here a while,”

Satoru wouldn’t make the same mistake twice.

He kisses you again, long and languid, “There’s nothing I want more than to stay in bed with you.”

✧ a/n: sorry i've been gone for a bit!! i got super busy with work and got hella writer's block and right when i was feeling ready to write-- i got sick. but i'm doing much better now!!

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