#i’m overstimulated and just wanted to come home to rest and peace but i can never have that when she’s fucking here

[blueberrisoup]

i can’t wait for the day i can come home to peace and quiet and not an inconsiderate bitch for a roommate that has people over at all hours of the night blasting shit in the living room on the tv when she has her own fucking room & tv to be using but no, she’s rather be a loud as fuck like she’s the only one who lives here!!!

[demensrage]

c for creampie fantasy ⚊ •. with toji fushiguro

summary: between drinks and fun with your best friend in your apartment, the truths come to light. he is willing to help you with each of your fantasies, you just have to be a good girl for him.

cw: bestfriend!toji, unprotected, praise kink, nipple play, overstimulation, mating press, big dick!toji, fingering, oral (f receiving), mutual masturbation, 69 position, hickeys.

wordcount: 8.6k

note: english is not my firts lenguage so please forgive me for the grammatical errors I may commit

© demensrage 2024. do not plagiarize, copy, repost, feed to ai, or translate my works to any other platforms.

The doorbell to your apartment rang insistently; you sighed in stress, all you wanted was a moment of peace. To eat something delicious, take a relaxing bath, and stroll around your house naked.

But whoever was interrupting at that moment had other plans. It wasn’t enough for them to just press the doorbell; they also started banging on the door insistently.

“Wait a damn moment!” you exclaimed angrily. You took off your apron, wrinkling it in your hands before throwing it on the kitchen counter.

But the doorbell kept ringing, and the knocking was starting to pound in your head. Tired, you opened the door, and there he was, with that sly smile, still pressing the doorbell.

“Finally, you have the decency to open the door for me, darling.” Toji didn’t wait for you to invite him in; no, he had self-proclaimed himself the second owner of your house. He walked in, leaving you standing there, mouth agape.

You looked at the wall clock in your living room and said, “What the hell are you doing at my place at 9 PM?” You closed the door, which made a loud thud. You didn’t even wait for a response from him; after all, he wasn’t planning to give one.

He left the two boxes of sake on the coffee table in the living room, settling them on the huge L-shaped furniture. He was utterly shameless, having taken over your space while insisting on having a copy of the key to your apartment.

“Stop looking at me with that pretty face of yours and sit with me,” he said, looking at you, studying the outfit you were wearing.

You had known Toji for several years through a mutual friend. Since then, as you got to know him better, you realized that no matter what clothes you wore, he would always manage to make a lewd comment about how you looked.You were certainly used to that, so you didn’t even care about how much clothing you had on. But that night was different; you were barely wearing enough fabric—shorts that barely covered your backside and a loose, short top that only hid your breasts.

He couldn’t judge you; you were at home on a Saturday night, and the last thing you expected was visitors. Much less his presence.

“This is supposed to be my night,” you complained as you walked toward the kitchen. “You can’t just take over my life for existing.” Toji seemed amused by your response; his deep, hearty laugh filled the space you lived in. “Because I can, that’s why I’m doing it,” he replied.

You could hear his footsteps approaching the kitchen, and when you turned around, he was leaning against the counter.

You were unaware of the mixed feelings he had for you. You had always seen him as someone very open about things, which included his midnight conquests. Toji didn’t commit; you repeated that constantly—not for yourself, but for the women who sought your advice as the closest female to him.

But there he was with you, as he had been for the past four months,waking you up with a good morning text. Goodnight texts before sleeping, unexpected outings, and visits. As unexpected as tonight.

His strong arms wrapped around your shoulders, resting his chin on your head. Toji was big—in every sense of the word. You admired his physique; he didn’t work out much, but somehow he had achieved that wall of muscles.

“That smells delicious; did you really think you were going to eat that all by yourself?” His husky voice caressed every part of your system, making heat rise up your neck and settle in your now-blushing cheeks. “Uhm, did your tongue get eaten or something?” he asked when he saw that you weren’t responding.

Shamelessly, he brought the bottle of sake to your lips so you could take a sip. Obediently, you did, savoring the sweetness of the drink and feeling it refresh your system.

“Since you’re here, I have no choice but to share with you,” you said resignedly, slipping out of his arms to continue with your work.

If anyone saw you both like that, they would say you were a couple, that you had been together for years. That’s not true; Toji was a sweet talker, or so you thought. Even though you had been friends for years, you didn’t know all his facets.

On his part, he had found fascination in holding your body in his arms; you were soft in comparison to him. Everything about you was a counterpart to himself, and he loved that.

Yes, he loved, because Toji loved many things about you: your sarcasm, your intellect, your kindness, your breasts, and your smile. He realized that at the least expected moment when you were at a friend’s house, who had invited you both for dinner. You looked beautiful in that pastel pink dress that hugged your body perfectly; he was unable to take his eyes off you.

At that moment, he wasn’t even looking at a friend; he was looking at you as if you were something much more than that. He knew it when his friend pointed out that he looked like a lovesick idiot when he was staring at you.

Now, after four months since that incident, he feels like a true lovesick idiot. One who is lovesick and confused, because even though you give him obvious signals, you keep unconsciously dodging them.

“The best night of all will be this one. Alcohol, food, and a lovely little kitty just for me.” You only laughed at his comment; he always had you all to himself. After all, among the entire group of friends, you two spent the most time together.

You were already on your fifth bottle of sake and felt like you couldn’t stop laughing. The TV was on; Toji had put on that comedy show he loved to watch in his free time. But as a bad drinker, you weren’t measuring the constant intake you were having. Your body was hot; you didn’t know if it was because of the alcohol in your system—though the percentage was lower than regular sake—or if it was due to the caresses of your companion.

Your legs rested on his lap; at this point, you didn’t care about anything—literally, anything. The way he kneaded the flesh of your thighs and then alternated with soft touches made you slide more onto his lap, and he showed no resistance in holding you.

"You’ll be my downfall, kitty," he murmured as if you wouldn’t be able to hear him, but you did, and now you were curious about why he said that. You leaned forward a bit, your body more relaxed than you thought due to the warmth of the drink and Toji’s attentions. Your half-closed eyes looked at him, trying to focus your mind through the alcohol haze enveloping you.

"Why do you say that?" you asked, your voice somewhat softer and more hesitant than usual. Toji looked up, his dark eyes meeting yours for a moment before a lopsided smile crept onto his face. His fingers continued tracing slow, deliberate circles on your skin, as if he never wanted to stop.

"Because you drive me crazy," he replied in that deep, raspy voice that sent shivers down your spine. "Look at you… How do you expect me to control myself when you’re like this, all for me?"

His words ignited something in you. You didn’t know if it was the alcohol or the intensity of his gaze, but you felt a growing desire to know how far his words and actions would go.

“I don’t plan to be another one of your fleeting conquests,” you denied, setting the sake bottle aside. “That would ruin our friendship.”

You were oblivious to what he felt for you. Toji had stopped treating you like a friend a long time ago, but you kept insisting that you were just best friends and nothing more. He slid his hands a little further up your thighs, massaging and caressing.

Leaning in enough to brush your nose with his, he whispered, “No, not at all. That would strengthen our friendship; it would go to a more… deep level.” His warm breath caressed your face, and for a second, you wondered if it tasted the same as what you were drinking. You slightly shook your head to clear the lewd thoughts from your mind.

“You always want to go deeper with every woman you meet,” you said, looking him in the eyes, pulling your face a little away from his. They were too close for your sanity, for how quickly your mind was wandering.

Toji let out a low, rumbling laugh, his hands never leaving your thighs, deliberately stroking your skin as if he were tracing every inch of your body in his memory. "Not with everyone," he replied, his voice laden with a tone you hadn’t heard before. "You’re not just any woman, kitty."

His words made you frown slightly. There was something different in his tone, something that sparked a mix of unease and curiosity in you. You didn’t know if it was the alcohol, the situation, or just Toji, but your heart raced, your thoughts clouding with the closeness of his body and the heat of his hands.

“We’re friends, Toji,” you insisted, though your voice didn’t sound as firm as you wanted. “I don’t want to ruin that for something that might mean nothing tomorrow.”

His eyes sparkled with something you couldn’t quite identify, as if he were debating something internally. He leaned in a little closer, his nose brushing against yours once more while his hands tightened softly on your thighs. “That’s what you don’t understand… This does mean something. You mean something. And I won’t let you keep thinking otherwise.”

The silence between you was so thick you could almost cut it. You were caught between what you knew was safe—the friendship you had built with Toji—and the uncertainty he presented with every touch and every word. You knew that if you took one more step, there would be no turning back.

“It’s just the alcohol talking for you.” You preferred to deny it, to deny what you didn’t see at first but that he had confessed to you at that moment. But even so, you didn’t yield; you remained still by his side, the edge of your backside brushing against the soft fabric of his sweatpants.

You ran both hands through your hair, pushing aside the rebellious strands that had fallen over your face. You had consumed every part of him with that simple act. His eyes devoured you, savoring every part of you until they once again stopped at the breasts he longed to have in his mouth.

A strip of surrounding skin was exposed for his delight; he could feel himself getting hard in his pants, all because of you. "It's not the alcohol, babe. I've been wanting you for way too long, long before this bottle." His hoarse voice was laden with a raw sincerity that made you shiver, while his intense gaze continued to explore every corner of your body, especially that skin you had unwittingly left exposed.

You swallowed, trying to maintain your composure. You knew your words weren’t stopping him, but you also didn’t want to admit how each touch and each of his words was melting your will. You felt trapped in the tension that was growing between you, as if the air in the room were heavier, laden with unconfessed desires.

He didn’t move much, but you could feel him against you, his erection pressing lightly against the edge of your rear. It was impossible to ignore. "You don’t have to keep denying it," Toji murmured, his lips barely brushing the edge of your ear, sending a chill down your body. "You know as well as I do that this isn't just a whim. I'm not a man of whims... not with you."

Your hands remained tangled in your hair, trying to find some kind of distraction while Toji's words penetrated you, eroding the barrier you had built. You played with your hands, searching for the right words. “You know I'm not open to anything right now,” you murmured, turning your face to look at him, his gaze holding yours. “Uhm, I have to…”

His hands slid a little higher up your thighs, firm but not aggressive, as if he were testing you, gauging your reaction. You bit your lip, your mind trying to organize itself amid the chaos he had unleashed within you. You knew Toji had always been direct, but this moment was different. The intensity in his eyes, the firmness of his touch, the way his words seemed so definitive... it all made you feel an internal vertigo you couldn't ignore.

"You have to... what?" Toji asked softly, leaning in until his lips almost brushed against yours but didn't touch. He was waiting for a sign from you, a confirmation, though every fiber of his being seemed on the verge of losing patience.

“I’m a hard person to please, uhm, you know that.” You lied, trying to form an excuse at all costs.

Toji raised an eyebrow, his smile twisting into a gesture of pure disbelief, almost amused. "Hard to please?" he repeated, his tone low and teasing. "Don’t lie, kitty. You know I can make you feel things you haven’t even dared to imagine." His hand slid higher up your thigh, almost daring you to keep denying it.

You felt a knot form in your stomach, a mix of nerves and anticipation. You were playing a dangerous game with someone who knew your limits too well but also how to push you beyond them. The air around you felt denser, almost suffocating, as if it were waiting for you to make the decision that you both knew you would come to, sooner or later.

"It's not about what you think you are," Toji continued, leaning in closer until his lips barely grazed the edge of your ear, the warmth of his breath making you shiver. "It's about what you need... And I can give you everything you desire. You just have to be a good girl for me."

The very idea of Toji, of having him to yourself, of letting go, made you feel a heat between your legs that you couldn’t ignore. You bit your lip, trying to suppress what was happening to you, but the wetness in your panties betrayed you.

Toji noticed, of course he did. His gaze dropped to your bitten lips, and then his eyes roamed your body with a hunger that made your skin burn even more. "Ah, I see..." he murmured, his voice rich with a low, dark tone that made you tremble. "You don’t have to say anything. Your body has already told me everything."

You bit your lip harder, trying to hold back, but Toji wasn't going to let you escape so easily. "You don’t need to search for more excuses. I know you feel it, that you want it... Just admit it, kitty," he whispered, his face getting closer and closer to yours.

His fingers slid up your thigh, stopping dangerously close to the edge of your panties, his touch sending an electric current throughout your body.

"Tell me what you want; I won't judge you. I know the idiots you date don’t fuck you right. Damn, a cute little slut like you should be fucked until there's nothing left to give," he whispered in your ear, settling you on his lap, your thighs on either side of his hips.

"Don’t play the good girl and be a naughty for me."

His words, raw and straightforward, made you shudder. The heat built up inside you, and while you tried to cling to the idea that you needed to stand firm, the way he looked at you made everything crumble. The way his voice resonated in your mind, making you envision a scenario where you existed solely to please him, unleashed every fantasy you had tried to hide.

Your body responded to him, to the desire that was beginning to grow uncontrollably. It was an internal struggle: on one side, the resistance of reason, and on the other, the primal urge to surrender to what he offered you. You felt trapped between desire and fear, and Toji knew it.

"Tell me. What would you like to do with me?" As his index finger glided over your exposed abdomen until it touched the edge of the piece of fabric you had as a top, he gently lifted it, revealing your breasts, firm and round. Toji was sure they fit perfectly in his hands, and the way his eyes darkened as he looked at you made you feel even more exposed.

"Come on, kitty, I need to hear your voice. Tell me what you desire," he insisted, his gaze fixed on you, as if every word that came from your lips were the only permission he needed to proceed. There was a mix of urgency and patience in his voice, a palpable tension in the air.

You bit your lip, struggling between the need to fulfill his desire and the fear of what that meant. The way he touched you, the warmth of his hand, and the desire emanating from him made you question everything you had believed about yourself. You knew he was willing to take you to a place you had never been before, but only if you dared to take the first step.

"Don't play games," he whispered, pressing a little more, his fingers barely touching the skin of your breasts. "I need you to be honest with me. Tell me what you really want." His voice had a tone of authority that made you feel trapped in his game, and the desire he had ignited in you seemed to flare even more.

And you had dreamed of it. Several nights you had closed your eyes and imagined Toji between your legs, turning you into a mess, immersing you in the pleasure you craved so much. You had seen yourself, lost in the whirlwind of his caresses, filling yourself with him until you felt him spill out of you, as if you couldn't contain it.

The intensity of those dreams had left you with a mix of longing and frustration. You woke up with heat coursing through your body and the feeling of emptiness between your legs, wishing those nocturnal visions would become reality. Now, in this situation, so close to him, that desire was more alive than ever, pushing you to cross the line you had been trying to maintain.

The idea of being completely vulnerable before him, of letting him take you to the brink of ecstasy, was starting to seem more and more tempting. "I want you to fill me," you managed to murmur, feeling how shame and desire intertwined in your chest.

Toji smiled, satisfied, as if he knew he had won. "That's all I needed to hear," he said, his gaze fixed on you, before smashing his mouth against yours in a disorganized, wet kiss. Toji leaned closer, his eyes filled with desire. His tongue claimed your mouth, exploring every corner, while you could only gasp against his lips, letting pleasure overwhelm you. You felt his fingers move firmly, pinching and rolling your nipples, pulling them with an intensity that made you arch your back.

The kiss grew more passionate, more ravenous, and every brush of his hands intensified the fire within you. His body pressed against yours, and in that instant, the world around you faded away. There was nothing else but him, the taste of his mouth, and the sensation of his hands, making you lose yourself in a spiral of pleasure.

"That's it, kitten," he murmured between kisses, his voice filled with an undeniable desire. "Let go." His hands continued to play with your body, and every movement made it feel more real, more intense.

Toji left your mouth, leaving a trail of desire on your lips as he began planting wet, short kisses along your jawline, quickly descending towards your neck. His lips were demanding, as if each kiss claimed your skin as his own. When he reached your neck, he began sucking with force, leaving hickeys that marked your skin, evidencing his possessiveness.

"You’re so delicious," he murmured against your skin, while his hands moved with determination, exploring your breasts with a firmness that made you shiver. His touch was possessive, overwhelming, and each tug of his fingers on your nipples sent electricity coursing through your body.

With a swift motion, he pulled your top, leaving you exposed before him. "Look how you react," he said, watching you with a satisfied smile as his lips devoured your nipples, alternating between sucking and biting, not caring about how you might feel. The hickeys were raw, marked by the intensity of his desire, as if each one was a promise of what he was willing to do to you.

“Tell me,” he ordered, his dark eyes fixed on you, filled with hunger. “Do you like it?” The tone of his voice was dominant, and there was a certainty in his gaze that made you feel as if you were completely at his mercy. The line between pleasure and pain blurred, and all you could do was let yourself be swept away by the intensity of his control, wishing it wouldn't stop.

You nodded immediately, tangling your fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck and pulling him toward you, pressing him against your breasts. “Suck them, please,” you whispered, feeling the mix of desire and urgency flowing between you.

Toji smiled, pleased, before pressing his lips in a possessive gesture against your skin. The pleading in your voice ignited him even more. His mouth closed around one of your nipples, sucking hard, while his eyes remained fixed on you, watching every reaction.

“I like it like this,” he murmured between kisses, leaving fiery marks that would tell the story of his possession. His tongue played with the tip of your nipple, swirling and teasing, while his hands seized your hips, holding you exactly where he wanted.

Each pull of his mouth and each flick of his tongue made you gasp, and the pressure in your abdomen intensified. Toji was making sure you understood who was in charge, and every moment of pleasure he gave you was a reminder that he had claimed you.

Your hands began to explore eagerly, traveling over his covered chest until they slipped between the folds of his shirt, searching for the warmth of his skin. As you brushed against his muscles, you felt the firmness and hardness of his abdomen, sculpted to perfection. Every line and curve of his torso was a work of art, and the desire to see and feel every inch of him intensified.

You needed more. To see the body you had secretly admired for so long. The mere thought made you burn inside, and now, with Toji latched onto your breasts, sucking and claiming every part of you, you couldn’t help but feel completely hooked.

His body was exquisite, and it entrapped you just as much as he did you. As you caressed him, every contraction of his muscles beneath your fingers only fueled your need. Your mind was filled with images of him above you, filling you in ways you had only dreamed of, and now you had him here, his dominance palpable in every movement.

His hands cupped your ass firmly, pushing you against his hard cock, and the gesture didn’t let your surprise go unnoticed. Toji was big, too big. You could feel his size even through the clothes, pressing against you, and the moisture in your panties was undeniable, soaking the fabric that separated you from him.

The friction of his body against yours heightened every sensation, making you aware of what was to come. Every movement he made, every squeeze on your hips, was a reminder that he knew exactly what he was doing.

Toji effortlessly lifted you off his lap, settling into the armchair while you remained completely open for him. He knelt between your legs, keeping them apart with that strength and dominance that left you breathless. His large hands slowly traveled up your inner thighs, rising with caresses that seemed to ignite your skin.

When his thumb finally reached your pussy, still covered by fabric, he began to massage your clitoris with firm, controlled movements. The friction, even through the cloth, made you shudder, and each of his caresses seemed to mock the barrier that still separated you from him.

“Look how I have you,” he whispered, his tone filled with twisted flattery. “You’re perfect, getting wet just for me. I haven’t even touched you properly and you’re already soaked, little cat. This is what you needed, right? Someone to fuck you like you deserve.”

You nodded at each of his words as your hips pressed against his thumb, chasing a release he was willing to give you, to see you tremble with pleasure until you could no longer bear it.

His finger slowly left your pussy, leaving you with a sense of emptiness, only to grab the edge of your pants and panties, sliding them down in one swift motion. In an instant, he left you completely exposed to him, vulnerable under his intense and dominant gaze. A searing heat coursed through your body, and the urge to close your legs overwhelmed you, wanting to hide from the way he devoured you with his eyes.

But he wouldn’t allow it.

His broad shoulders blocked your escape, firm and confident, preventing any attempts to pull away. Toji pressed his large hands against your thighs, forcing you to stay open, displaying you as he wanted, with no possible resistance. “Don’t hide from me, precious,” he growled in a low voice thick with desire. “You’re going to let me see all of you... you’re going to let me devour you like the good girl you are.”

His fingers slowly glided over your pussy, expertly parting your folds while his eyes feasted on every detail. He watched in fascination as your skin glistened, wet and slippery under his touch. Toji’s intense gaze was fixed on you, as if he were etching every second of your vulnerability, of how soaked you were just for him, into his memory.

“Look how you drip,” he murmured, his words laden with lust.

His fingers traveled to your hole, collecting your juices with a torturous slowness, as if he wanted to prolong your agony. Then, with the same calmness, he spread the moisture all over your pussy, smearing your own fluids in every corner, making you feel even more exposed. “You’re perfect… so ready for me. Do you know how much I love seeing you like this?”

He didn’t need to spit on your pussy to lubricate you, not with you. You were so incredibly wet that his middle finger slipped in effortlessly, gliding into your depths, causing a muffled moan to escape you. The feeling of his finger inside you was intense, but not enough.

“Toji... three, please,” you whispered with a trembling voice, your cheeks burning with embarrassment, but desire dominated you. One wasn’t enough; you needed more, and he knew it.

“Three, huh? What an ambitious little slut.” Toji smirked, clearly pleased with your request. Without hesitation, he added two more fingers, sliding them in with the same ease as the first, feeling how your walls adjusted to his size as your hips arched, seeking more friction, more depth. “You’re going to beg me for more before I’m done with you. I promise you that.”

His fingers felt incredibly good inside you, making it impossible not to clench around them, wishing he would never stop. The lewd sound of your wetness filled the air, each movement resonating like a symphony of desire and pleasure.

But Toji didn’t stop there. He knew you needed more. His fingers deepened their rhythm, moving with a perfect blend of rawness and delicacy, just as his tongue joined the party. It slipped between your folds, enveloping your hard bud with insatiable voracity. “You’re so sweet,” he murmured against your skin before beginning to suck and lick your clitoris, playing with it as if it were his favorite toy.

Toji nibbled gently, alternating between sucking and teasing, making you tremble under his dominance. Every touch, every movement of his tongue pushed you closer to the edge, filling your entire being with a pleasure so raw and intense that it was impossible to maintain control.

You mewled in pleasure, one of your hands tangled in his hair, pushing him against your pussy, as you rolled your hips against his mouth in desperation. His fingers curled inside you, searching for that sweet spot that would bring you to the edge of ecstasy, making you delirious with pleasure. “Ah, ah!” Your cries filled the space, echoing in the room and encouraging him to continue, to take you even further.

Toji reveled in your response, increasing the intensity of his movements. His tongue moved fast and agile, dancing over your clit as his fingers penetrated you, finding the perfect rhythm that made your entire body tremble. “Fucking sweet, she has a delicious pussy sweetness,” he whispered between licks, his voice heavy with desire and lust. You felt completely at his mercy, becoming more lost in the sensation, wanting more than he could give you.

Before you could process the moment, Toji pulled away from you, bringing two of his glistening fingers up to your lips. “Open that pretty little mouth for me,” he commanded, his voice deep and commanding, making it clear that there was no room for resistance.

Without hesitation, you opened your mouth, feeling your full lips envelop his fingers, tasting your own desire on his skin. Toji watched, fascinated by the sight you offered. The sheen of your saliva on his fingers made him want to fuck your mouth, a desire that intensified with every second.

As he continued to devour your pussy, his pace became more frantic, and his gaze was fixed on you. “That’s it, kitten, feel how I want you,” he said, pushing his fingers deeper into your mouth, filling it with his essence as his tongue continued to lick at your clit.

He left one last kiss on your pussy, a soft caress that made you shudder before he stood up, admiring the scene before him. You looked so fucking hot; your flushed cheeks and bright eyes of desire gave you away. You were completely open for him, pussy glistening with your wetness, while your tits and neck were marked by bites and hickeys, traces of his hunger.

Toji took a moment to enjoy the sight, knowing that he had driven you to the edge of madness and that he wanted you like never before. “You look perfect like this,” he murmured, a sly smile revealing his satisfaction. He moved closer, letting his hands roam over your body, feeling the warmth of your skin and the softness of your curves as he gave you one last look full of promise. “It’s time for us to play some more, kitten.”

That hint of mischief in his eyes was unmistakable as he dropped his pants and boxers to the floor, revealing his fat cock, a sight that made you hold your breath. You hadn’t been wrong to think he was big; he was more than you had imagined.

Precum glistened on his bubblegum pink tip, and his heavy, full balls were ready for you, as if they knew they were meant to satisfy your darkest desires. The skin of his cock, the same milky hue as his abdomen, was an exquisite sight, and you couldn’t help but lick your lips at the sight, an instinctive response that betrayed your growing need.

“Like what you see, sweetness?” he asked, his voice deep and teasing, as he took a step closer, daring you to give in to temptation. Toji grabbed your hips, lowering you against his mouth, giving a playful lick. “Fuck the view is even better from here.” and without a second thought, he forced your hips to crush his mouth, opening it to devour you.

You mewled in pleasure once more, resting your hands on his abdomen. You were so turned on, you hadn't cum once and yet the feeling of pleasure was so good you wanted to stop time to feel it forever.

You rocked your hips with him, but Toji tightened his grip, immobilizing you as he plunged his tongue into your dripping hole. You wrapped your fingers around it, feeling like your hands weren't enough to cover it completely. Toji's growl ripped through your nerve endings, causing a shiver to run through your body.

Meanwhile, his hands slid down to your ass, spreading your ass cheeks to continue enjoying you. The combination of his mouth and his attention was driving you to the edge of madness, every caress and every lick making you want more.

You felt desire run through your body, an intense burning that wouldn't leave you. His words, soft but firm, confirmed what you longed for. "Do it, let me feel that pretty mouth of yours on my cock," he murmured, as two of his fingers slid inside you, intensifying the pleasure that was already consuming you.

Your lips curved into a mischievous smile as you moved closer to him, feeling the electricity in the air. With one hand, you stroked the length of his p0ll4, enjoying the soft, warm texture between your fingers. His muscles tensed, a soft growl escaping his lips as you enveloped him with your mouth, wetting every inch of his skin with your tongue.

“Fuck, that feels amazing,” Toji whispered, his raspy voice filled with desire. You gave in to lust, making slow movements at first, enjoying every moan that escaped his mouth. His breath grew heavier, each sigh turning you on more.

Your head bobbed up and down, taking more of him into your mouth.

His fingers tangled in your hair, gently guiding you as your lips worked at his base. “That’s it, baby. Keep going,” he said, his voice filled with need. You felt his cock grow harder in your mouth, the pressure of his desire making you want more.

You struggled to keep up, matching the pleasure of his cock with your tongue, teasing the tip of his member, causing his body to shiver. But when his mouth returned to your pussy you moaned around him.

As your lips slid along his length, you began to play with his balls, stroking them with your fingers and massaging gently, feeling the tension build in his abdomen. The mix of pleasure you shared was almost palpable, and it filled you with desire to know you were bringing him to the edge. His balls were ready to empty, and you knew you wanted to feel him completely, flooding you with him.

“That’s it, sweetness,” Toji said, his voice a whisper laden with need. “Don’t stop.” His words were like fuel to your fire, and you pushed yourself to make him feel as good as possible, intent on leaving him completely satisfied.

Toji’s tongue began to move faster against you, forcing you to let him moan. The sounds coming out of your mouth mixed with the rhythm of his tongue, a symphony of pleasure and need. Each lick was a wave of sensations that coursed through your body, driving you to the edge.

“Ah, Toji!” you gasped, unable to hold back your moans as your hips bucked involuntarily, seeking more of his touch. The way his tongue teased your clit made you lose control, and your hands gripped his thighs, pushing your pussy closer, wanting to feel every part of him.

With each flick of his tongue, your moans became louder, filling the space with the echo of your pleasure. Desire and need intertwined in a crescendo, bringing you ever closer to the edge.

“Toji, don’t stop,” you begged, feeling the tension building inside you, preparing to erupt in a wave of pleasure.

You flicked your tongue out to lick the tip that was squirting his precum, eyes closed and wet from the overstimulation, you closed your lips against the head of his cock and sucked hard. Hearing him growl as he pushed his hips into your face. One last lick was enough to make you come undone in his mouth. You bit your lips hard before crying out in pleasure.

Toji softly asked you to get off of him, and so you did, feeling the need and anticipation coursing through you. You were more than ready to be fucked. He settled himself on top of you, and you felt his tip press against your hole, dripping with desire.

He claimed your lips again, the kiss fierce and demanding, as his hands slid down to hold your knees, pulling your legs tight to your chest. “Keep your legs up for me,” he ordered, his voice a soft whisper laden with authority.

You let yourself go, obeying without hesitation. The feeling of vulnerability turned you on, and your eyes met his, filled with desire and determination. Toji positioned himself, and you could feel the heat of his body against yours, the tension palpable in the air.

“Ready?” he asked, his voice a low growl that made you shiver. You nodded, knowing what was coming next would be the culmination of all that anticipation, the connection you so craved.

With a teasing movement, he let the tip enter your hole, and that alone was enough to make you roll your eyes and rethink whether his entire thickness would fit. “It’s not going in, you’re big,” you whispered, your gaze fixed on that spot that joined you. “You’ll get used to it; if I have to fuck you every day to get you to do it, I will.”

He went in a little further, just a little further, then back out. He was teasing you, enjoying the desperate look on your face, the way your pussy was throbbing to be filled by him.

“Please, Toji,” you begged, like a desperate, lustful whore for his cock. “Don’t leave me like this, I need more.”

His lips curved into a teasing smile as he reveled in your desperation. “So you like being treated this way, huh?” he muttered, as he thrust again, this time a little deeper.

Your body reacted instantly, a moan escaping your lips at the feeling of that warm, dirty pressure. “Give me more,” you insisted, feeling your desire grow, the need for his thickness filling every corner of your being.

“I just want you to get used to it,” he said in a deep voice, almost a growl, as he pressed a little harder, making your body arch, wanting to take him in completely. The way he laughed at you only fueled the lust burning inside you.

“That’s it, hold on,” he ordered, taking your legs firmly and holding them up. He moved slowly at first, enjoying the ride, milking out every inch of pleasure before pulling back and thrusting back in. “This is how it’s done.”

“What a greedy cunt,” Toji said, his deep voice filled with mockery as he watched your cunt swallow him, clenching around him as if it didn’t want to let him go. The way your body wanted him turned him on even more.

“I’m sorry, I know I can take it. I don’t need to get used to it, Toji, please,” you whimpered in pleasure, your eyes shining with the tears that threatened to fall, every movement of his sending waves of satisfaction through you.

Toji smirked mischievously, feeling your body react to his thickness. “So you’re ready for what’s next?” he said, picking up the pace, driving deeper into you with each thrust. “Let me hear those moans, baby.”

His hips moved hard, thrusting deeper and deeper, as his hand settled on your hip, holding you firmly in place. Each thrust was a reminder of who was in charge, and you welcomed it, giving yourself over to the intensity of each moment.

You cried out in pleasure, each thrust of Toji sending electric shocks through your body. You were so full, so drunk with pleasure, that the outside world faded away with each stroke. His thickness filled every corner of you, and every movement had you writhing and moaning, unable to contain the cries of satisfaction that escaped your lips.

“Toji, more… give me more!” you pleaded, the words spilling out of your mouth like a mantra. Your body arched against his, wanting to feel him even deeper, wanting to lose yourself in the madness of this moment.

“You like it, baby?” he murmured, a teasing smirk on his face as he quickened his pace, making the sound of his skin slapping against yours echo through the air. Each thrust was a shock of pleasure, making you feel more and more eager, more desirous.

Toji wouldn’t stop, and you knew he would enjoy every moment of your surrender, every moan that escaped your mouth. You were completely at his mercy, and you loved it.

One of his hands traveled to your tit, squeezing it firmly as his fingers rolled around your nipple, pulling on it in a precise motion that made you arch your back. The overstimulation made you moan even more, each touch of his fingers stoking the fire inside you. Your tits swayed with each thrust, his slaps against your body echoing in the room, resonating with the sound of sloshing that filled the air. You could feel his balls slapping against your ass with each movement, adding an extra sensation that made you lose your sanity.

“Toji… yes! Don’t stop,” you cried out, feeling the pleasure building up in your abdomen. You were caught in a storm of sensations, unable to think of anything but him, his body against yours, and the desire that consumed you. The pace intensified, and with each thrust, he made sure to take you further, to a point where there was no turning back.

The curve of his cock was so perfect that each thrust hit your sweet spot, sending waves of pleasure through your body. Toji growled in pleasure, his expression a mix of concentration and delight as he watched you, enjoying how your body responded to every movement.

“You’re a fucking dream,” he muttered under his breath, his eyes locked on you as he increased the pace making you feel every inch of his thickness. The sound of his skin slapping against yours mixed with your moans.

“You’re so tight, so perfect,” Toji said, his voice low and heavy with desire. His gaze intensified as he focused on you, enjoying the show you put on. “I'm going to make you forget about everything else.”

Moans escaped your lips, each one louder than the last as he dug deeper, searching for that spot that would make you lose control. The pressure in your abdomen built, and you knew you were close to exploding.

“Toji, don’t stop,” you begged, feeling the combination of his thickness and steady pace drive you to the edge. “I can’t… I can’t take it anymore.”

With a teasing smile, he looked into your eyes. “Don’t worry, baby. I’m here to make you feel good,” he said as his hips slammed into you harder, each thrust a direct hit to your pleasure.

You clung to his back, dragging him towards you as you bit his neck to silence your cries of pleasure. Each thrust from Toji was like a jolt of electricity running through your body, and the need to hold back those moans became more and more difficult. His skin was hot under your lips, and the mix of his sweat and yours created an intoxicating sensation.

“Toji,” you gasped through your teeth, feeling the pressure build up inside you. Every time his hips slammed into yours, the friction drove you closer to the edge of insanity. His hands were firmly gripped onto your hips, guiding you to move to the rhythm he set.

“You like it like this?” he asked in a playful tone, his breath hot on your ear. “Because I can make it harder.” His voice was a whisper filled with defiance and lust, and you couldn’t help but smile at the way he made you feel: completely his.

You nodded, unable to form words as you looked up at him, eyes filled with desire. “Yes, please…” you pleaded, feeling the tension inside you begin to boil over.

He complied, increasing the speed and depth of his thrusts, each stroke echoing in the air as your bodies came together. The combination of his pace and the way he looked at you, full of confidence, sent you over the edge of euphoria.

“This is just the beginning,” he murmured as he thrust into you harder, the sound of his skin clashing with yours filling the room. “Get ready for what’s next.”

The words excited him as much as they did you, and your body reacted instantly, feeling like you were about to fall into an abyss of pleasure.

His hand slid between you, searching for that spot that would make you lose control. With an expert move, his fingers found your clit, applying perfect pressure that made your body shudder. You clung to his back tighter, feeling each brush of his fingers add to the intensity of his penetration.

“See?” “I can make you feel so much better,” he said, a teasing smile revealing his satisfaction at watching you lose yourself in the mix of pleasure. His fingers worked in circles, as his cock continued to hit that sweet spot inside you, taking you beyond any limits you had ever known.

Your moans became louder, unable to be suppressed as he made you experience waves of pleasure. “Toji, I can’t… I’m close,” you managed to say, the pressure building up, taking you to the edge of ecstasy.

“That’s what I want, baby,” he murmured, increasing the speed of his fingers as his hips continued their intense dance. “I want you to melt for me.”

You felt like a whirlwind of sensations, and each thrust along with his caresses made you lose track of time. The room was filled with whispers, moans, and the sound of skin colliding, creating a symphony of pleasure that only he could orchestrate.

With every movement of his hand, the pressure inside you grew, and you knew you were close to exploding. “Yes… please…” you begged, feeling the need consume you.

“I’m going to cream you so good,” he said, his voice deep and confident, as his hand and cock worked together to bring you to the top. “Fuck, I want to see my cum dripping out of that pretty pussy of yours.” And when you finally came, the climax washed over you like a wave, leaving you breathless as the pleasure engulfed you completely.

You felt Toji tense up on you, his breathing becoming faster, almost like a warning of what was to come. Each thrust was more intense, and that spark of pent-up desire that had grown between you was about to burst. His hands gripped your hips tightly, making sure there was no escape as he lost himself in the pleasure.

“I’m going to…” he murmured, his voice husky and full of desire. “I’m going to fill you up.” His eyes shone with a mix of lust and satisfaction, as if every movement brought him closer to the edge of that abyss of pleasure. Your heartbeat echoed in your ears as he gave himself over completely, the muscles in his body tensing as you felt his cock grow even harder inside you.

With one last deep thrust, Toji let out a growl, a primal sound that filled the room. The world around you faded away as he reached his climax, filling you with his seed, letting his desire flow inside you, mixing with your own ecstasy. You could feel it staining your rubbery walls, the warmth of his cum inside you,

You clung to his body, feeling every wave of pleasure wash over him, every spasm sending waves of satisfaction across his skin. His eyes closed for a moment, letting out a heavy exhale, as if releasing all the tension built up inside him.

Toji leaned forward, his eyes locked on you, watching every little movement. He wanted to see it, he wanted to witness how everything he had given you flowed out of you, that moment when his desire mixed with yours. The look on his face was a mix of possessiveness and satisfaction, almost as if he was enjoying the show you were putting on for him.

“I want to see,” he murmured, his voice low and heavy with desire. With one hand, he took your chin, forcing you to keep your gaze on his eyes, while his other hand slid between your bodies.

Feeling vulnerable and exposed, a wave of pleasure and excitement ran through your body as you watched his liquid slowly slide out, dripping from your pussy, leaving a visible trail connecting it to you.

“That’s right, baby,” he said in a teasing tone, enjoying the sight. “Watch it slip away. You’re so greedy, swallowing everything I have for you.”

An involuntary moan escaped your lips as the feeling of his cum dripping down your body caused you a mix of shame and arousal. The sight of his body still shaking in pleasure, the glistening drops sliding down your skin, and the way he looked at you, it was all a heady combination that kept you in a state of pure ecstasy.

Toji smirked, his eyes fixed on you as he scooped up some of his cum with two fingers, making sure not a drop was wasted. The way he looked at you made you feel like you were the center of his universe, and the mix of shame and desire sent a shiver through your body.

“Save it for me,” he said in an orderly tone, as his fingers slowly slid down your body, right where you wanted him most.

He looked at you with an expression that made it clear he knew exactly what he was doing. With one precise movement, he brought his fingers to your pussy, carefully inserting them while maintaining eye contact. The combination of his scent and the touch of his fingers made you moan, forcing you to feel every inch of his presence.

“Ready to go?” he asked, his voice low and full of mischief, knowing exactly the effect he had on you.

With a slight movement, he withdrew his fingers, leaving a void that made you moan for more. The air between you was thick with tension, and you couldn’t help it: desire took over you, wanting him to fill you again, wanting every inch of him.

“Yes, please,” you replied, your voice cracking, feeling your body preparing to receive him again. You clung to his torso, your legs shaking in anticipation, as he settled himself better on top of you.

Toji leaned in, pressing his forehead against yours as his lips curved into a provocative smile. “Then get ready, because this only gets better.”

Without further warning, he guided his cock into you, pressing the tip against your pussy. With a firm motion, he began to enter you slowly, enjoying the way your body received him, eagerly absorbing him.

“Ah, that’s it,” he murmured, feeling your body take him in as he began to pump in a controlled but intense rhythm. Each thrust was like a wave of pleasure that spilled over between you, driving you closer to madness.

The sensations intensified, the sound of your bodies colliding, filling the room as your moans and his grunts blended together, creating a symphony of shared desire.

“You’re perfect,” Toji said, increasing the pace. “I can’t get enough of you.”

[eringobragh420]

🖤 Pairing — Damian Priest ♥︎ f!Reader 🖤 Summary — Damian’s girlfriend and Rhea have a deep hatred for one another, leaving Damian in the middle to referee. 🖤 Word Count — 1.5k 🛑 Warnings — NSFW. Overstimulation, unprotected p in v, cum 18+ 🖤 Notes — Spanish translations are at the end of the story provided by Google Translate. Thank you so much to @miss-kuki-nz for being my muse. 🖤 Taglist — In the comments. If you’d like to be added, please click here! 🖤 Requested By — @twistedprincess-92. Hope you enjoy! 🖤 MASTERLIST, KINK LIST

“I am so tired of this bullshit,” Damian complained, unlocking the front door to his and his girlfriend’s home. He shoved it open, and no matter how angry he was, the man never forgot his manners, so he motioned for the tiny woman beside him to enter ahead of him.

Had she not been absolutely livid at the moment, she’d have swooned, as she was prone to doing, but as the situation stood, there would definitely be no swooning this time. “You and me both, babe,” she hissed as she passed him.

Damian slammed the door and locked it before stomping after her into the living room. He watched as she kicked her heels off and doffed her leather jacket, tossing it carelessly to the couch. She crossed her arms, and he knew it was going to be a long night. “You’re acting like you’re the one that should be mad right now,” he said, motioning in her direction.

“Are you saying I’m not?” she asked evenly, brows in her hairline, and it was that perfectly held-together tone that gave Damian an ominous chill down his spine.

“Yeah, I’m saying you’re not. I’m the one that has to referee his girlfriend and his best friend every damn time we go out somewhere.”

“Oh, poor you,” his girlfriend spat. “At least you’re not the one getting called a golddigger!”

“She did not call you a golddigger.”

“Wait, no, you’re right. What she said was you’re just like all the rest. Like the girl you dated before me who spent all your money.”

“She’s just looking out for me.”

“Well, Damian, which is it? Did she not say it or is she protecting a six-foot-five grown ass man who can take care of himself?”

Damian’s hands came to his head but they dropped quickly. “You both literally want the same thing. I don’t understand any of this.”

“Maybe we do want the same thing, but she’s the one being a bitch about it.”

“Oh, great. Next you’re gonna tell me she’s the one that started it.”

“Actually, she did.”

Damian’s eyes went to the ceiling. He couldn’t believe they were having this argument again. It had been almost a year since he’d introduced the love of his life to his best friend, and ever since that day, he hadn’t had a moment’s peace. Maybe the two women were simply too alike and would consequently never get along. So where did that leave him? He refused to choose between them, and he refused to allow them to bully him into choosing between them. Had they reached an impasse? Was this just supposed to be his life now? And when the couple inevitably got married, was Rhea not going to be invited?

“And what if I just say I’m done with it?” he suddenly asked, turning his head to look at his girlfriend.

She stared at him. “What does that mean?”

Damian sighed. “Never mind.”

“You wanna be done with me?”

“I didn’t say—“

“The hell you didn’t. I’m not in Rhea’s cool book, so you’re just gonna toss me aside?”

“You’re not lis—”

“Fuck you, Damian.”

His brows rose and he nodded. “Fuck me?”

“Fuck you.”

She stomped past him, glaring the whole way, and it was clear she didn’t want to be followed, nor did he particularly want to follow her. He knew the door slam was coming, but he still jumped just the same as he removed his jacket, dropping it over the back of the couch before he fell onto the cushions with a heavy sigh. He scrubbed his hands over his face, grabbed the remote, and turned on the television knowing full well he wasn’t interested in watching anything.

He was all threats, and she knew it. He wasn’t going to break up with her, and he wasn’t going to sever ties with Rhea, either. He would live with it, he supposed, like he had been, spending the rest of his life hoping things would change. In the meantime, he’d have to keep them separated. Like children.

“Damian?”

Damian stirred, clearing his throat, and his eyes slowly blinked open. He must have fallen asleep at some point as he was now prone on the couch, one boot on the cushion, the other on the floor. Had he heard his name in a dream? He sat up, yawning, and arched his back to work out the kinks.

“Papí?” his girlfriend called again from upstairs.

“Yeah, babe?” he replied, looking over his shoulder toward the staircase.

“Will you please come to bed?”

He smirked. Yeah, he was gonna live with it. He loved her too damn much. “I’m on my way.” He pulled his phone from his pocket to check the time, discovering a message from Rhea.

I love you, twin. I’m sorry. I’ll try to do better.

Damian’s smile only grew and his heart swelled, but then realized his girlfriend hadn’t been the first one to apologize. Did that bother him? Did it really matter? He could build on this. Light at the end of the tunnel. He turned the TV off before climbing the stairs and made his way down the corridor toward their bedroom. The door was open and the lights were off save for the nightlight near the bed on her side—she’d never admitted to it, but she had at least a slight fear of the dark. She was in bed, under the blankets, facing him, the azure hue from the nightlight painting her face in blues and shadows. Damian took his clothes off and crawled under the blankets behind her, pulling her naked body to his. That distended heart of his promised to pop, as his girlfriend cuddled back into him, rubbing her ass against his cock, moaning when his arms wrapped around her.

“I’m sorry, baby,” she mumbled. “You’re right. I’ve been a jerk. Rhea and I can figure this out.”

Damian’s grin could have lit up the entire room. They are just alike. He kissed her neck softly, attacking her spots as his hand drifted along her body. She squirmed when he cupped her breast, rocking her hips against his. “I know you will,” he growled, omitting the text from Rhea. “Because you’re wonderful.” He pinched an already hard nipple, ripping a groan from deep in her throat. “And you’re perfect.” His stiffening cock thrust against the crack of her ass, and she reached back to clutch his hip over the blankets. “And you’re so fucking sexy.”

She giggled. “You sweet-talker.”

“Mhmmm,” Damian mumbled, nibbling on her earlobe. His warm hand slid from her breast, the pads of his fingers skating along her abdomen, and she lifted her leg so those fingers could slip into her dampening pussy.

“Fuck,” she whined, tightening her thighs around his hand as she rode his digits. “Shouldn’t this be the other way around?” she breathed. “I’m the one that screwed up.”

“That makes me right,” Damian boasted, “which means I get what I want. And this is what I want.” His middle finger slid inside her, her hips bucking to accept and bring him deeper. “I’m gonna make you cum at least three times before I even fuck that pussy.”

And he made good on his word, working her over with his fingers until she was trembling beside him not once, not twice, but three times, and by the third time, his girlfriend was a sobbing, quivering, begging-for-mercy mess. She almost protested when Damian began to slide his stiff manhood inside her, and maybe she did a little, but her objection was weak and unconvincing. His hand on her thigh lifted her leg in the air, she pivoted her hips, and her pussy sucked him deeper within her, Damian groaning.

“God, I can’t,” she all but wept, “I can’t, I can’t.” She repeated the words in time with Damian’s pumps, and he nuzzled her neck with tender kisses.

“Yes, you can,” Damian panted. “You’re doing so good. You can take just a little bit more.” He placed her leg gently on top of its twin, tightening her already impossibly tight cunt, and he squeezed her hip before thrusting into her. “That’s it,” he whispered, watching with wild eyes as his girlfriend fisted the sheets and bit down on the pillowcase, “take it for Papí.”

His girlfriend lurched, strangled sounds escaping her lips as her pussy pulsed around him. And that was enough to send Damian over the edge. He pressed his face to her hair and emptied himself inside her, his hips stuttering, pounding, pausing, thrusting again. After several moments, he tried to pull out, but she grabbed hold of him anyway she could, and that’s where he stayed.

“Don’t even think about moving for at least the next five to seven hours.”

Damian chuckled. “Little sensitive?”

His girlfriend scoffed. “You would be too if you just came three times in a row.”

“Oh, you didn’t cum while we were fucking? Let me fix that.”

Her grip on him tightened. “Don’t even think about it. I swear, I don’t even know what Rhea and I are fighting about. I’m the one that needs protection from you.”

Damian laughed again. “I love you, mi vida.”

“I love you … jerk.”

જ⁀➴°⋆ Papí — Daddy જ⁀➴°⋆ Mi vida — My life

[milkywaydrabbles]

AHHHH!! all your rindou drabbles for kinktober are amazinggg , but that hanma shuji was the best one so far 😩!! can i request a #8,#17, and #37 with my man shuji 🙏🙏!

A/N: I'm posting this from the spirit realm please do not perceive me and the monster of a 4k fic I made for him I didn't mean to ;A; I like him a normal amount I promise. Anyways here's the fic I hope you like mwuahh. I also did the alternate universe of Hanma I'm sure that's not what you were exactly expecting but I wanted to keep it out of the realm of gangs just this once! I still tried to keep him a little mean hehe

Virginity/Orgasm denial/overstimulation x Hanma Shuji

You met Hanma when you went to the same school years ago, and being the shit head that he was, always picked on you for fun. It was never malicious the way it was when he was actively picking fights with other boys in gangs, but it was so fucking annoying you couldn’t help but cry with how frustrated you felt. He’d poke fun at you more, looming over you with how tall he was and just tease you until you stormed off. You remember that well, and definitely not fondly. Eventually you saw him less and less at school, and then he stopped coming altogether. The wave of relief that you felt when you were able to just go about your days in peace and quiet was immeasurable. Over time, and over the years, you thought of him less and less and forget him all the same, graduating high school, going to college, finding a job--Hanma was no longer a presence in your life.

Not until adulthood.

You were on your way home, feet dragging with how exhausted you had been feeling at the end of the week--work was hell, but you were grateful for the next two days off. You just needed to make it home in one piece. Of course that was asking for too much, because when you turned the corner your phone went flying out of your hand when you crashed into a brick of a body in front of you with a gasp. “Oh, shit” You hissed, scrambling to grab your phone with a flurry of apologies spewing out of your mouth. The body didn’t seem to acknowledge you, or so you thought, until you heard your name come out of a foreign mouth in a whisper. You paused, actually terrified now to look at who you bumped into, but looked up anyways--to someone you couldn’t recognize. 

“Shit, it is you.” He breathed out with a laugh, smile appearing on his face. You frowned, brows burrowing up in confusion. “I’m sorry, do I know you?” You tried not to be defensive, you really did, but life had turned sour on you at a young age and you didn’t trust any men these days anyways. So you crossed your arms and stood your ground, looking like you were ready to fight at any given moment. The man couldn’t help but cackle, it was like life had slapped him in the face--you weren’t the shy skittish little girl he remembered anymore. You had grown up, fended for yourself, obviously not afraid to get into arguments with men you supposedly didn’t know. He feigned hurt after his laugh, pressing a hand to his chest and jutted his lips in a pout. “Come on, you really don’t remember me? You threw your backpack on me real hard in middle school you know. I think I still have a scar from your book.” Ready to turn away with a middle finger you barely acknowledged what he said, “No I don’t remember....you...” He could practically see the gears in your head turning. “Oh...oh my god--Hanma?” He flashed you a dazzling smile, “In the flesh.”

“Oh fuck off.” You tried storming away, there was no way you had just ran into your middle school bully and he thinks he can just smile at you like you had been besties. You weren’t going to even think about it for the rest of the night, you just needed to get home. Hell maybe he changed, but you weren’t gonna sit there and find out. Not willingly at least, because it turns out he wasn’t ready to end the conversation. “Woah, hey! Come on let’s just talk real quick doll face--” “Excuse me?” The shrill in your voice blatantly told him you were not having it. “Sorry. I’m sorry. Can we talk?” You stopped to look at him--really look at him and holy shit did he grow up. His hair was long to his shoulders, blonde money pieces nicely framing his face--one that was no longer grinning like a snarky piece of shit that you remembered, but soft--eyes almost pleading with you to just give him a chance for the night. And fucking tall--standing taller than six foot you craned your head to look up. You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose before answering. “Come on, there’s a bar along the way.”

-

“You’re....so different.” you commented.

He laughed, rubbing the back of his neck in embarrassment. You learned he left the gang life behind years ago, and that he was a freelance photographer. You also learned that he made lots of friends from his old gang life that actually stuck, and that one of them recently got married. He told you about his travels, about the time he was in juvie (more than once), about what he did after he left school.

And he told you about how he never quite stopped thinking about you. 

That made you pause your commentary at each remark, unable to take a breath in after the admission. Then you scowled. “You were an asshole Hanma. You know that? You were so fucking mean to me. And you’re saying you thought about me all these years? Ha, thought about what, how funny it was to torment me?” You let your anger flow freely with the help of the beer that was now warmed on the table top. He let you vent, getting out all your frustrations that you were never able to when you were a kid--to scared to know what he would do in retaliation. You thought this was better than therapy (and cheaper too.) When you finished your monologue of how much of a dick he was, you threw back the rest of the beer (gross) and looked at the sticky table. He made no moves to get up, which you were surprised over, instead you peeked up at him through your lashes and saw a man that looked as if he’d been slapped across the face. “I’m...wow. Yeah. I was the worst, wasn’t I?” A humorless laugh left his lips. “I didn’t...and listen, this isn’t an excuse, really it’s not, but I didn’t know how to act. You were the cutest girl in school and I just...I was a prick. Life was shitty growing up, and everyone always said ‘if you like a girl pick on her’. I guess it was too much, huh..” Another laugh. “I’m sorry, I really am. I thought I’d never see you again and now you’re here and I don’t--fuck, I’m sorry pretty girl.” Hanma hung his head in shame, playing with the emptied beer bottle in front of him riddled with anxiety. 

There was too much to unpack in one night. You couldn’t believe half of the things he had even said to you tonight. So you decided to sit with it for a while. You excused yourself quietly, after (attempting and failing) to pay for your drink. “I...I have to go, Hanma.” He sighed, understanding enough anyways--it was a long shot for you to ever forgive  him. But then your phone appeared in his line of sight, opened up to a new contact page with his name already up. His eyes shot up at you, hopeful, and took your phone without a pause to write in his number, he might have also changed his name just a bit, adding a heart at the end of ‘Hanma’ , so dry. You rolled your eyes at that, mumbling ‘don’t push your luck’, but kept it anyways. 

-

For the next few weeks (months?) Hanma had integrated himself heavily into your life. You texted him every day, called just as much, and even met up with him for food or drinks a handful of times as your schedules permit. It was odd, having this bond form with someone you used to despise. But it’s not healthy to hold onto grudges like that. Especially from such a young age, and you knew he was really sorry, especially since he admitted to you night one that he had a crazy crush on you. So you let it go over time, and started seeing Hanma shine with his annoying personality again. And once he came out of his shell, really, he acted almost the same. Snarky, making faces, overly cocky like he couldn’t be beat. But he was softer now, and you found it endearing, especially when he’d come to your rescue. You’d be waiting for him to show up at your usual bar spot and be cornered by a man who was too drunk to look at you properly but was still in your face. “Come on, pretty. What’s your name huh?” You scoffed, leaning away from him as you grabbed your drink and covered the top. “Fuck off, dude. Not here for you.” You’d hear the drunkard grumble something about you being a bitch and before you were able to turn to look at him again and tell him off, you saw a tattooed hand grip his shoulder. “What was that?” Hanma leaned down to get in his face, toothpick in between his teeth as he waited. 

“Fucking--nothing, dude, get off me.” Before you knew it the drunk was knocked on his ass on the floor and Hanma was shrugging it off, telling the bartender “He’s too drunk to be here, can we get him out?” with a shrug and a smirk when he was dragged off by security (as if Hanma wasn’t the one to shove him). You breathed out a giggle and smiled, thanking him for the save--and silently calming yourself down. He looked...good, turning back into his intimidating self when it wasn’t directed towards you. You wouldn’t mind seeing him like this more often, especially to your defense. You shake off the feeling and continue on with your conversation as you always do, though you’re distracted with the way he pushes his hand back, and how his veins in his hands look, and how--

“Hey, you good?” 

You blink, startled and looking like a deer caught in the headlights. Unfortunately for you, Hanma has been getting too comfortable around you now. “What, see something you like?” He cooed, dipping his head lower to meet your eyes, voice now to a whisper. You fidget away, drink long forgotten as you try to remember how to breathe again, furrowing your brows. "I don't think I want to be here anymore." It was his turn to frown. "Hey no I'm sorry, I was joking—" "I'm hungry. Do you...wanna just grab takeout and go to my place?" Silently he nodded, dumbfounded that you had invited him over. It felt like an unspoken rule–he wouldn't ask if he could go over, knowing the answer would be 'no.' You weren't ready for him to invade your space like that. But after all this time, after close to six months of non stop talking and relearning each other it felt like the most natural thing in the world for you to ask. Even if you were a little nervous about it. And so you (he) paid your tab and left.

–

The two of you sat comfortably on the floor of your living room, eating from shared plates and having mindless movies on in the background as conversation continued. "Thanks for letting me over, doll–not gonna lie I was getting tired of always going out to a bar." He teased, laughing when he felt you shove him a little with your shoulder. "Be grateful, Hanma." You rebutted with a smile. 

"Shuji."

....

"What?"

"Come on, we’ve been talking for months now. You can’t just call me Shuji? Not just once?” 

You placed your chopsticks down, that fuzzy feeling coming back into your stomach the same as when you stared at him earlier. Could you call him Shuji? Did you think you were close enough to do that? He was so different than the Hanma you knew all those years ago, but somehow the same–still poking fun but now it felt good, the teasing and the taunting was reciprocated–maybe even building up to something else, that you had refused to unlock. “Come on pretty girl,” the name made your head spin and your face get hot, and him leaning in closer to you didn’t help. Hanma brushed your cheek, thumbing at your skin when he cupped your face, “just once. Just call me Shuji, please.” Your breathing hitched, eyes dropping down to look at his lips, and when you looked back up at him you noticed he’d done the same thing. “...You’re being so stupid, Shuji.” Your voice was barely heard above the sound of the TV. He chuckled, lips brushing against yours, “yeah well, you know what they say–love makes you stupid.” You closed the gap that barely existed to begin with, hands latching on to the front of his shirt as Hanma invaded your senses. 

The kiss was dizzying, overwhelming, too much– everything and everywhere all at once. But you couldn’t find it in you to care, not when Hanma had been such a constant in your life recently, not when he admitted to loving you. You could practically feel the cockiness come flooding back, Hanma smiling into the kiss and nipping at your lower lip, easily slipping his tongue in after you granted him access. He’d taken over quickly, hand on your cheek pressing the back of your head deeper into him and the other trailing around your waist to pull you close. He had you straddling him, and you still were trying to keep up with the kiss. “Sh-Shuji, wait, h-hold on.” You broke free enough to speak if only for a moment, but he continued with the kisses down your jaw, and neck, and nipping at the juncture of your shoulder. “What’s wrong, pretty girl?” Fuck, his voice dipped low–the gravely sound was shooting straight down to between your legs. It was hard to breathe, he wasn’t letting up enough for you to tell him, but you needed to, you needed to–

“I’m a virgin.”

Hanma immediately stopped his ministrations, the sound of the TV turning more into white noise than whatever was going on. When he didn’t speak, you felt the need to explain. “I just, I don’t know–don’t fucking laugh, I don’t know what’s going on in your head.” You huffed, embarrassed. “I just...was never interested in hookups. And everyone fucking sucked, so I never...”You trailed off, looking away when Hanma tried to meet your eyes. He cupped your face so sweetly, small smile on his lips as he did so. “Look at me, baby.” His fucking petnames were going to kill you. But you listened anyways. “We can stop, or we can just make out–doesn’t matter to me as long as I have my hands on you.” He snickered and you wanted to smack him. You thought about it too, but you don’t think you’d find anyone better than Hanma.

You loved him, too.

“I don’t want to stop, Shuji.”

He didn’t need anything else after that.

–

“Aah, fuck, Shuji y-you’re being mean again.” You whimpered, tears pricking the corners of your eyes. Hanma had your legs open around his waist, working his fingers deep into your virgin hole. It’s already been twenty minutes of him slowly working you open, curling two of his fingers in your cunt and pushing up against that squishy part of your walls that had you climbing up to your orgasm–only for it to never come. Hanma kept fucking stopping. He’d feel how your walls started to clench and twitch around his long fingers, and the absolute bastard would only snicker and pull them out, slapping them lightly against your clit. “Aw, sorry baby–Just can’t get enough of how you look.” He teased, devil horns practically growing on his skull. This was the Hanma you remembered from middle school, and it seems his sadistic torture moved from taunting you at school to taunting you in your own bed. But you don’t think you cared too much, not now. Not when you saw the love in his eyes. Slowly, Hanma pushed in a third finger, a hand coming down to push you into the mattress and keeping you still. “Gotta prep you, doll–don’t want it to hurt, right?” And you don’t think it would, you had toys, it wasn’t unknown territory, but you kept your mouth shut anyways when he looked at you like that, eyes devouring you. His pace quickened, pumping his thick fingers in and out, in and out, until he saw your nose scrunch up and your mouth open–whining and crying out as you climbed closer and closer and closer to your impending orgasm. You could feel it, and you spread your legs just a bit more to give him more space, eyes rolling to the back of your head–

And then he pulled out.

“Shuji!” You were so frustrated, tears flowing freely now with how angry you were feeling. You were ready to start telling him off, until he grabbed your jaw and loomed over you with such authority it made your skin crawl. “If you don’t stop me now, baby doll, I’ll never be able to keep my hands off you again.” His aggressive tendencies never really went away it seemed, even after leaving the gang life behind you had such a grip on him it made him crazy. “Tell me no, and we’ll stop.” He waited a beat, squeezing a bit more at your jaw expectantly. You simply stared at him, stars in your eyes as you looked up at the man. 

“Keep going.” 

Throwing caution to the wind, Hanma kept the hand tightly on your jaw as his messy fingers slipped back into your weeping cunt, finger fucking into you harder and faster than before, all three curling up back into that gummy part and not letting up this time. Your mouth hung open with the pressure he kept on you, moans flowing freely out–you babbled, repeating his name until it all just jumbled together in messy cries. You tried to keep your eyes open but the pressure building up so fast was dizzying. Your eyes rolled back, bordering screaming as he fucked into you. He said nothing, just kept staring at your face of pleasure as you finally descended into your orgasm, crashing over you in waves and not stopping. Your juicy pussy was splashing him, fingers slipping over to rub over your clit just as quickly. Your orgasm hit you like a fucking train, lower body spasming as he kept you at that high. “Too much, too much Shu–too much!” your legs were aching to close, and he let up just enough to let you get away, smacking your pussy twice before. 

Hanma leaned down kissing your throat after letting go of your jaw, whispering against you “First it was not enough, now it’s too much.” He taunted, nipping at your skin before kissing up to your lips again. Even when he was being mean again, he pet your head and wiped away your tears. “You sure you wanna keep goin’ pretty?” You hiccupped, taking the time he’s graciously given you to take a breather, and nodded. He smiled like the devil himself and planted a harsh smooch right on your lips before moving back, lining his cock against your wet folds. “Y’ready, baby doll?” Another nod. He pushed in.

“Ah fuck, Shuji–s’big.” you gasped, arching your back in the pleasure and slight pain you felt. You couldn’t stop yourself–he was big, though you knew you were feeding his ego when you heard a laugh tumble from his lips–deep in his chest. “You’re okay, baby–gonna stretch you out nice on my dick.” He started moving slow, and you swore you could feel each vein as his cock stretched your walls around him. His movement was deliberate, passionate, like he was making sure your pussy would be molded to only take his cock for the rest of your life. Though even if he told you so, you’d openly admit you’d never be able to be with another man after him. As he felt you loosen enough to move freely, he fucked into you faster, leaning over onto his forearms–dropping his forehead to yours, hair forming a curtain around the two of you. “You waited for me, baby? Waited so I could take your virginity, right?” He spoke nonsense and you both knew it. But fuck, he felt so good inside of you, you couldn’t help but let him hear exactly what he wanted. “Waited for you, Shuji–wanted to give it to you.” You were able to barely get your words out before he groaned above you, humping you like a dog in heat. “Fuck, baby doll–pussy’s so fucking tight.” His jaw tightened as he got the words out, angling himself to feel you cum around him again. “Wanna feel you cum, baby, come on, give it to me.” his hips slammed against yours, wicked pace stealing your breath. Silent screams escaped you, gasping and crying when you came around him again, and he relished in the feeling of your abused cunt clenching and twitching around him. “There we go” He breathed out a laugh, kissing your tears as they fell. 

Hanma only let up enough to get his hands on the backs of your thighs and push them up to your chest. He was fully over you now, continuing to pound into your swollen pussy. “Shujiii” You whined, nails clawing at his wrists but unable to move him. At this angle he kept hitting all the right spots and you needed him to slow down. Yet the only word that would spill from your mouth was his name, like a silent prayer or mantra. Your third orgasm of the night came quickly, messier than the first two–your juices splashing on his thighs as he kept fucking into you. Folding in half you had no power to stop him, only able to take the pleasure that was bordering on painful with how quickly he was making you cum with no breaks. “Come on, pretty girl, come on.” Hanma was far gone, pupils blown out with lust–mumbling to himself more than to you, bed creaking underneath you with his strength. 

He maneuvered your thighs to be pressed against your chest with one arm, his now free hand finding your swollen clit and pinching– your screams and moans filling the room as your fourth orgasm felt like a house of bricks being dropped on you. You covered him in your juices, his cock now covered in a frothy white layer that webbed and stuck to the both of you. Even as he let go of your clit, Hanma was still chasing that high–so close to getting off. He wrapped his free hand around your jaw, covering your throat and shoving his thumb into your mouth. “Look at me baby.” He ground out, just to see your fucked out face eyes all teary and glassy. Your mouth was upturned in a slight smile, completely cockdrunk. It was enough to push him over the edge and still deep inside you, shooting his thick load in your abused hole. 

Silence filled the air, and slowly Hanma let go of your face and your legs, pulling out and hissing when he felt his cum dribble out with him. “Fuck..don’t think I’ll ever stop dreaming about that.” He laughed, and laughed harder when your weak hand slapped his shoulder. He dropped his weight next to you, collecting you in his arms with a kiss to your temple. “How you feelin’ baby doll?” He whispered, and you hummed, snuggling deeper into him. “Good. Sore. Always so mean to me.” You teased, feeling yourself off into sleep. He smiled at your temple and let you drift into slumber, at least for now–he’d have to clean you up. 

Until then, he reached over to your phone and finally changed his name in your phone, keeping the heart but replacing his surname with ‘Shuji’.

[erebusbabylon]

'90 millennial here with a request if you have the time

I'm struggling w overstimulation and depression and anxiety today (ok, tbh it's most days) and would love to read about Celebrimbor helping his love deal with such issues

Also 你的中文怎么样？

Yay! A fellow not quite elder, not quite younger, Millennial!

I am in the same boat most days as well! I live in a perpetual state of overstimulation. Living in China as a foreigner is not for the faint of heart. I looooved writing this! It was very therapeutic for me haha! Thanks for the idea! I hope you like it <3

我的中文还可以。我在中国已经六年了。我需要多学习!

Calm Within the Chaos (RoP! Celebrimbor x F! Wife)

Celebrimbor sat at his desk, poring over dispatches from other Elven lords. The papers were filled with updates on the affairs of Middle-earth, but his mind wandered far from the matters at hand. He sensed a heaviness in the atmosphere of their home, one that had settled over the past few weeks. His wife, once vibrant and filled with laughter, had grown quieter, her spirit dimmed by an unseen weight.

As he turned his focus back to his work, he cast a glance toward her. She was curled up in a corner of the room, lost in her thoughts, her gaze distant. The gentle flicker of the lanterns illuminated her features, but Celebrimbor could see the shadows lurking in her eyes.

“Beloved,” he called softly, setting his quill aside. “Would you join me for a moment?”

She looked up, her expression a mix of surprise and reluctance. “I— I’m fine,” she replied, though the tremor in her voice betrayed her.

“Please,” he urged gently. “Come. Sit.” he said patting his lap.

She quietly approached and settled into his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck. The warmth of his presence brought a small comfort, but she was still tense. He set the dispatches aside, turning his full attention to her. “You don’t have to carry this alone,” he said softly, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “Talk to me.”

She hesitated, her eyes flickering to the floor. “It’s just everything… I feel overwhelmed. The endless flow of meetings, the tasks, people always requiring more of my time… I can’t seem to find peace.”

Celebrimbor nodded, his heart aching for her. “Oh, my darling! Being the Lady of Eregion is a demanding position, and you take on more than your fair share of duties while I work in the forge. You deserve rest."

He pulled her closer, wrapping his arms around her tightly. “Let’s find a way to lighten the load. You deserve moments of quiet, of joy—away from all the responsibilities.”

She looked up at him, her expression softening. “I want that, but it feels impossible sometimes. Even now, I can hear the echoes of the forge and the voices of our people.”

“Let us escape the noise together. What if we took a walk down to the river? The beauty of nature often brings peace, and I would love to spend that time with you.”

A small smile began to break through her worries. “That sounds lovely. But what about your work?”

“Let it wait,” he replied firmly, his gaze steady. “You are my priority. The dispatches can wait until tomorrow. Right now, I want to focus on you.”

As they walked hand in hand down the winding path toward the river, the soothing sounds of nature enveloped them. The air was filled with the gentle rustle of leaves and the distant song of birds, a welcome contrast to the tension that had clouded her spirit.

However, their peaceful moment was interrupted when a herald approached, his expression serious as he bowed slightly. “My Lord, My Lady,” he said, breathless from his hurried pace. “I have urgent letters that require your attention.” he said looking at her.

Celebrimbor’s brow furrowed, and he stepped protectively in front of his wife. “Leave them in my study,” he replied firmly. “I will take care of them.”

The herald hesitated, glancing at her. “But, My Lord, these letters are specifically for the Lady of Eregion.”

With a raised eyebrow and a hint of sass, Celebrimbor crossed his arms. “I am the Lord of Eregion, and whoever is demanding her time will have to go through me first to get it.” His tone was light, but the protectiveness in his posture was unmistakable.

The herald looked taken aback but quickly regained his composure. “Yes, My Lord. I will leave them in your study.”

“Thank you,” Celebrimbor said, waving the messenger away. As the herald retreated, he turned back to his wife, a playful smirk dancing on his lips. “See? You are not to be burdened with such trivialities today.”

She chuckled softly, appreciating his fierce loyalty.

As they continued walking, the gentle sound of flowing water grew louder, promising a moment of tranquility that they both desperately needed.

As they reached the riverbank, the gentle flow of water sparkled under the warm sunlight. Celebrimbor scanned the area, searching for the perfect spot. He spotted a patch of soft grass nestled beneath the shade of a willow tree, its branches swaying lightly in the breeze.

“This looks perfect,” he said, guiding her toward it. They settled down, and she immediately lay her head in his lap, feeling the coolness of the grass beneath her and the warm sun above.

Celebrimbor smiled down at her, his fingers instinctively finding their way into her hair. He began to play with it gently, weaving his fingers through the strands, creating soothing patterns. The rhythmic motion felt like a balm against the worries that had plagued her.

She closed her eyes, allowing herself to sink into the moment. The warmth of the sun kissed her skin, and she focused on the sensations—the gentle tug of his fingers in her hair, the soft rustle of the willow branches, and the distant songs of birds flitting about.

In that serene space, the weight of her responsibilities began to fade, replaced by a profound sense of peace. “This is perfect,” she murmured, a small smile gracing her lips.

Celebrimbor looked down at her, his heart swelling with affection. “I could stay here forever,” he replied softly. “Just you and me, away from all the demands of the world.”

Celebrimbor leaned down, his lips brushing softly against her forehead before lingering there for a moment. The warmth of his kiss enveloped her, and she felt a surge of comfort wash over her.

“Whenever you feel overwhelmed,” he whispered, pulling back slightly to look into her eyes, “come to me. No matter what I’m doing, I promise I will stop everything to care for you. You are more important to me than anything else in this world.”

His gaze was earnest, filled with a depth of love that made her heart swell. “You don’t have to carry your burdens alone. I’m here for you, always.”

She smiled, feeling a sense of safety in his words. “Thank you, my love. That means more to me than you know.”

[stevenssacrab]

Meet The Parents

⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ✧ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ*

Summary: You bring Jake home to meet your parents and expect a peaceful night's rest after a successful dinner, but even with your parents sleeping right next door, Jake can't help himself.

Rating: 18+ smut (minors, do not interact)

Warnings: Decent amount of Spanish dirty talk, oral sex (male and female receiving), sneaky sex, fingering, p in v, unprotected sex, overstimulation, cream pie, aftercare

Word Count: 2.0k

a/n: The dirty talk has changed me as a woman, I will never be the same lmao, may or may not have fantasized about this exact situation, but I can neither confirm nor deny, translations are at the end :D

⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ✧ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ*

“Here you go, Mom.” handing your mother a stack of dirty plates.

“Thank you, angel,” she says lovingly as she submerges the plates in the soapy water, the sound of the evening news filling the cool air; you sigh in relief; the hard part is over, bringing someone home to meet your parents is always so nerve-racking, but Jake did so well, what with being able to speak to your father and mother in their native tongue; that will always win you some extra brownie points.

“I like him,” your mother says contentedly, moving clean dishes over for you to rinse.

“Yeah? I knew you would,” you giggle lightly, hugging her softly; your smile has not left your face since you got home.

“He makes you happy, and that’s all I could ever want for you, angel.” She smiles brightly at you; you suddenly hear a loud boom of laughter coming from your living room; you beam, relieved that you had built it all up in your head; of course, Jake is doing well; he’s the most charming man you’ve ever met, he could charm absolutely anyone.

“Smart move getting one that speaks Spanish,” she elbows you gingerly and smirks to herself.

“I know!” You laugh easily, carefully rinsing dishes and placing them in the drying rack.

“He’s just the sweetest thing, and he treats me so well, mama,” you said with delight laced in every word; you leaned against the counter, sighing happily, savoring this moment, every emotion, every thought, for years to come.

“I’m glad, angel,” she says, caressing your arm tenderly. “Let’s join them,” she said excitedly, pulling you into the living room. You spend the next few hours discussing how you met and everything in between before heading off to bed.

“Que tengas buenas noches” Jake says, shaking your dad’s hand.

“Y que tengas buenas noches señora,” he says enchantingly to your mother, kissing her hand gently; your mother giggles and playfully slaps his arm.

“Por favor, Llámame mamá,” she says, squeezing his hand tightly.

“Goodnight, Mom,” you whisper in her ear as you hug her, walking back to Jake with a smile. You reach out to him, and he smoothly captures your hand, interlacing your fingers, and smiles back at you; you lead him into your childhood room and gently close the door behind you. You squeal excitedly, jumping into Jake's arms; he catches you, laughing with you.

"That went so well!" You cheer happily; Jake captures your lips with a smile as he roams his hands all over you; you whimper into the kiss, wrapping your arms around his neck, getting lost in the feeling. Jake caresses your neck, tugging you into a deeper, hungrier kiss, his tongue begging to enter your mouth; you part your lips; you've never been one to deny him; he messily walks you back into your dresser.

"Jake," you whine between kisses; he holds you in place, hunger growing with each passing second

"We can't; my parents are next door," you say feebly; Jake kisses down your face and leaves a trail of wet kisses down your neck, stopping only to suck harshly in all your sweet spots; you close your eyes and let out a quiet, breathy moan, Jake grips your hips and lifts you onto the dresser, slotting himself between your legs, lips still abusing your sensitive neck. You place your hands on Jake's chest and try to push him back; he growls and grips your wrists tightly, pinning them to your side.

"I don't care; you've been testing me all day today; you looked so domestic, and fuck, it was so sexy," he says lustfully; taking your lips in his, you surrender to the growing ache between your thighs and feverishly kiss him back as if you're trying to steal the air from his lungs, you grip his shirt tightly and wrap your legs around his waist, drawing him closer, he groans lowly. He slides you to the edge of the dresser, grinding into you agonizingly slow, desperate for any friction; the room fills with your panting and suppressed moans. Jake growls and picks you up effortlessly, moving you to the bed and gently setting you down; the room feeling sticky and hot, you reach for him and pull him closer by the belt loops; you slowly undo his belt, staring intensely into Jake's eyes, pupils dilated with lust and hunger, you know you shouldn't do this, but you want this just as much as he does, maybe even more, you tug his pants down, pooling it at his ankles, your mouth salivating at the imprint of Jake's hard cock through his underwear, you lean in and gently kiss the tip of his cock, locking eyes as you hum from the taste precum leaking from his tip. You lift your hand and rub his shaft up and down slowly, licking your lips; you pull his underwear down, whimper at the size; it stands tall, the tip red and leaking, suddenly aware of how much saliva you have in your mouth you swallow, sticking your tongue out you lick a low streak from the base to the tip wrapping your lips around the head, and suck gently, just enough to feel good, but not sufficient to satisfy; you close your eyes at the taste, losing yourself in the soft groans Jake lets out, he buries his hand in your hair, guiding your mouth down his cock, he hums with a satisfied groan, throwing his head back, slowly fucking your mouth.

"God, you're perfect," he says breathlessly, watching how easily you take his cock; cock deep in your throat, you moan at the praise, gritting his teeth, he suddenly buried his other hand in your hair, pushing down his cock, he holds you there for second before pulling away to let you breathe, you gasps and cough slightly, a string of saliva connecting you to his dick, eager to please you swallow his cock again, hitting the back of your throat, you focus on not gagging and moan around his cock, Jake groans and snaps his hips in and out of your mouth, punishing the back of your throat, his eyes closed, face contorted in bliss, wholly engrossed in your mouth.

"Fuck baby, asi," he moans quietly; you can only moan, devouring his long cock, mascara running down your face.

“Que hermosa te ves asi,” he whispers, gently wiping your tears away.

"You like me fucking your mouth like this?" he whispers lowly, panting faintly, gripping your hair tightly; you whimper all over his cock, nodding slightly.

"With your parents in the next room? Dirty girl," he says sensuously; you whimper quietly, grinding your aching pussy into the mattress, whining hushedly.

"So close, baby," he breathes, picking up the pace, brutally fucking your mouth; you feel his cock twitch you know he's almost there; you lift your hands and softly cup his balls; Jake grits his teeth and holds your head down as he cums down your throat, you swallow everything he gives you.

"Fuck" he says, pulling you off him; you whimper, lightly rubbing the base of your throat.

"Lo siento, cariño," he coos, caressing your cheek, leaning down to kiss your lips gently; you smile up at him.

"Lay down for me, cariño," he says affectionately; you follow his directions and lay back, and he crawls onto the bed, slowly kissing up your legs, then the insides of your thighs. You shiver, and he laughs softly, letting his hands roam.

"Relax baby, let me take care of you," he assures you; he gently pulls down your pants and underwear, groaning softly, he kitten licks your swollen clit, and you gasp louder than you meant to.

"Shh, tranquila mi vida," he whispers softly to you, kissing your inner thigh soothingly, gradually kissing up to your pussy, and placing light kisses on your clit.

"Jake, please," you say, grinding into the air, desperate for anything he'd give you; Jake laughs lightly to himself; he licks from your entrance to your clit, and you whine louder than expected; you quickly cover your mouth with your hand, eyes widen in fear.

“It's okay, mi vida, they’re sleeping, don’t worry,” he says reassuringly, his calloused finger massaging your clit in painfully slow circles, watching your face twist in pleasure.

“Fuck, Jake,” you sigh breathlessly, bucking your hips lightly; Jake gently caresses your clit, his tongue teasing your hole before tenderly sliding inside, savoring your taste with a low moan.

“Mmm,” you keen quietly, biting your lips harshly to suppress your moans. Jake fucking your pussy with his tongue, rubbing your swollen clit.

“Más, por favor,” you utter. Jake groans loudly; he loves it when you speak Spanish to him, especially if it’s during sex; he plunges two fingers into your tight hole without warning, your mouth dropping open in a silent scream, chest rising and falling rapidly, your eyebrows knitted together as you watch Jake mercilessly fuck your wet pussy.

“Oh fuck, Jake,” you whisper harshly, hand covering your mouth; Jake wraps his lips around your inflated clit, sucking gingerly even as he abuses your taut hole with his long rough fingers, eyes locked on yours, you feel that familiar burning in the pit of your stomach, you bury your hand in Jake’s hair, grinding yourself against his buttery tongue.

“Dámelo todo,” you whimper impatiently; Jake growls loudly, smacking your hand away; he shoves a third finger inside, hitting your sweet spot perfectly; you whine muffledly, panting loudly; Jake sucks brutally at your clit; you can do nothing but take it all, selfishly; you pull your legs back for better access, watching Jake eat your pussy like a starving man.

"Jake, I'm so close," you mewl, gasping for air; Jake moans against your clit, adding a whole new sensation; you cum around his fingers with a quiet wail, legs shaking violently, even still, Jake doesn't relent, sucking your sensitive bud cruelly.

"Otra vez," he says possessively, curling his fingers inside, hitting that familiar spot; it's all too much. You're cumming again, body shaking vigorously; Jake slips his fingers out of you; he sucks your cum off his fingers with a groan, eyes closing, fully enthralled in your taste; he grabs you by your throat, pulling you to his mouth, he kisses you possessively, sliding his tongue inside, you moan lightly, tasting your cum on his tongue, he bites your bottom lips harshly, before uttering.

"Think you can handle one more baby?" he coos, thumbs caressing your lips; you say nothing, just nod slowly, scooting further back on the bed, pulling him along by his shirt; he kisses you with a smile; he knows you can take everything he gives you and more, settling between your legs, wrapping them around his waist, he slides in with ease, you both groan softly, entranced by the way your velvet walls pull him in, silently begging for more, he brutally snaps his hips forward, burying his cock deep inside you, your jaw falling slack, pants falling roughly out your mouth, you look down, watching his cock disappear in you, Jake grabs your right leg and flings it over his shoulder, pounding viciously into you, you open your mouth to moan, but Jake catches your lips silencing you, Jake picks up the pace, sadistically flicking his hips into you, you grip his arms tightly, nails digging into his skin, he hiss, enjoying the pain, he's always had a sadistic side to him, you maneuver your hand to your clit, expertly rubbing circles, Jake smacks your hand away, and replaces it with his thumb, flicking over your frail bud, you whine behind pursed lips, your walls pulsating around his cock, Jake growls lowly, his hips stuttering.

"Cum inside," you choke out, wrapping your legs around his waist, locking him in; Jake growls, fucking you savagely.

"Fuck fuck fuck" he pants, gripping your hips brutally; he cums deep inside with a stifled groan, you following right behind him; after a while, he pulls out of your leaking hole, gritting his teeth, he swiftly lifts off the bed, are strides to the bathroom, he comes out with a moist hand towel.

"Relájate, déjame ayudarte," he says warmly, carefully wiping up the mess; being extra cautious around your more sensitive parts, he gently massages the bruises forming on your hips, kissing them delicately, kissing his way up your torso, across your neck, and stopping on your lips, kissing you affectionately, he smoothly pulls the covers over you both and give you one last kiss.

"Te amo, mi alma"

⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ✧ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ*

Translations:

Que tengas buenas noches = Have a good night Señora = Ma'am Por favor, Llámame mamá = Please call me mom Asi = Just like that Que hermosa te ves asi = How beautiful you look like this Cariño = Dear Lo siento = I'm sorry Tranquila mi vida = Calm down, my life Más, por favor = More, please Dámelo todo = Give me everything Otra vez = Again Relájate, déjame ayudarte = Relax, let me help you Te amo, mi alma = I love you, my soul

[bleue-flora]

Wait I actually love how Sam and Quackity are Dream's safe people in the playdate au :[ 'cuz when he's feeling bad Sam will keep people away and Quackity knows how to keep company while being quiet so he doesn't get worse :[[[

Idk why but I keep imagining the kids somehow showing up on the real dsmp and the shock on everyone when all the kids immediately want Dream (because Dream is safe and he doesn't let people be unfair. Even when he's a stick in the mud he's safe)

(Sorry really really spinning them in my head. Baby Quackity hiding on C!Dream's cape and on his head C!Dream is just chanting "Don't flinch form the baby don't flinch from the baby don't flinch from the baby dont-")

Rude how can you forget Punz, Dream’s bff lol XD. But I mean safe people may be a bit of a stretch. Sam is also autistic (wait did I mention Dream is autistic? Oops yea that’s why he is often seen as weird by the other kids and manages to kinda get isolated even amongst people as a result) so he also understands and respects the need for peace and quiet from people. He can often just go home when he gets too overstimulated but Dream doesn’t really get that option (since Vik and Lazar take naps in his room), hence why he hides in the slide, so Sam often keeps him company and keeps people away when he’s having a meltdown. Sam is also a peacekeeper as well as the one helping everyone with their creations and stuff whether they need help tying their shoes, help blowing up a floaty, sewing one of Michael’s eyes back on after Sapnap was a little too rough with him, or fetch the water for Foolish’s sand castle.

Quackity on the other hand is very competitive and devious. Like the boy who’s always playfully fighting with other boys and making everything a competition. He’s also the - I learned this new cuss word our parents don’t want us to use and I saw these older kids playing this game of two truths and lie where if you get it wrong you get slapped (or something I don’t know… hopefully you know that kid I’m talking about). He’s also the one to throw out insults and start fights easily. He often ends up having to come apologize to Dream later and check if he’s okay and tries to cheer him up with some new game he learned.

Now that’s an insane idea, though the dsmp is far too explicit for them lol. (No babies btw just kids some pretty young like Lazar, Vik, Schlatt, George and Jack, with Slimecicle as the youngest but he still walks and talks and plays with his older brother, Quackity, before his oldest brother, Purpled, puts him down for a nap.) They all just huddle behind c!Dream, scared of the other members. And Dream is just trying to remind himself that the kids behind him are not trying to stab him in the back. They just want to go home to the real world or get food or whatever and their Dream was always the one to go to. C!Dream is definitely not bitter by this btw nope, definitely not, not sure what you’re talking about, he is absolutely 100% not jealous of everyone being kid Dream’s friend…

Imagine they come to the dsmp when c!Dream is still in prison and they break him out (get c!Techno to break him out like he does in canon) because - Dream is the safe one who usually has all the answers surely he knows how to get us back to our world… When c!Techno shows back up to the audience of anxious kids waiting inside his house with c!Dream hidden in the cape in his arms, c!Philza rushes all the younger ones over to his house so they don’t see the bloodied and injured shape he is in. They tell them c!Dream just needs a bath and rest instead of that he was tortured and needs medical attention. C!Techno and c!Philza being the bad parents they are (they did not sign up for this!) don’t push back against the oldest kids being stubborn and demanding what’s going on. They ended up proving to be helpful hands at least… When c!Dream is healed and wakes up, the kids pounce on him asking numerous questions in excitement and apprehension. On one hand he hasn’t had positive human touch in ages and welcomes it, on the other there are too many hands everywhere and he can’t watch them all. They think the scars are really cool, poking at the sensitive tissue and asking where they’re from, he’s forced to make up wild stories of adventure, pretending their trophies of long ago and not torture from a month ago. He tries not to flinch everytime someone refers to one of the kids as Quackity…

[rosemariiaa]

here we go!

Colorado Sprinds, 2019

This is the game where Azzi tears her ACL

wow okayyy so lowkey traumatic.

She could stop this. She should stop this.

oh my gosh i’m already stressed.

The pop is sickening.

wow so the imagery is there. i can’t like PAIGE what didn’t you stop it??!!

…She could’ve stopped it. But she froze. And now the damage is done.

gosh dammit!!! she really had to witness that again😣

He had cried for four days . He had nearly gotten sick when he called back.

awww omg timmmm🥺, he loves his baby girl so bad

..staring at another blank wall while Azzi fought to keep from breaking in front of everyone.

please protect the princess at all cost!!

Azzi swallows hard. When she finally looks at Paige, her eyes are glassy, her voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to do now.”

oh my heart 😢

“No.” Paige shakes her head, firm. “You’re still the hardest worker I know. You’re still Azzi.”

Azzi’s jaw clenches. “You say that like it’s enough.”

Paige meets her gaze. “It is enough, I promise”

well that promise was broken wasn’t it paige madison??!!!

Few weeks later (2019)

I, on the other hand, am suffering. Because Azzi is ignoring me. And I can’t let that slide.

here comes yapper bueckers

The point is, I don’t like being ignored.

of course you don’t 🙄

I scoot closer. “Azziii.”

needy and clingy what a combo

please paige, let the girl recover in peace!

She groans, sinking deeper into the couch like she can escape me. She can’t.

now you know damn well—

who the hell is jake?!!!

dude just cannot take the hint huh?

Yeah cus you know.

exactly let him know paige. stand on business

He pauses, glancing between the two of us, and then his smirk turns downright evil. “Just… try not to get too cozy down here, alright?” He wags his eyebrows. “I know how you two get.”

not jose clocking their tea?! lmaoo jose is a menace too huh??? must run in the family

“I’m just saying! If it were me, I wouldn’t trust myself alone in a basement with someone I—”

just nosy and instigating

Her smirk grows. “You sure? You look kinda—”

azzi wasted no time flustering paige

I barely register whatever drama’s happening on screen because I’m too busy staring at her.

oh she’s down bad your honor. guilty of falling in love with her bsf

“Paigey,” she murmurs, her lips quirking up as she glances down at me. “You want me to pause the show? Seems like you’re real focused on something else.”

let her know azzi

I roll my eyes, playing it cool. “Please. I wasn’t even lookin at you.

she really expects azzi not notice her bright ass irises directed towards her???

“You wanna tell me what you were looking at, then?”

oh HERE WE GO

“I was trying to watch, but someone keeps distracting me.”

i see that accountability isn’t part of her vocab yet

Close enough that I can feel her breath ghost across my lips, close enough that I could close the space between us in one second if I wanted to— And I do.

but full send is.. there ya go paige

It’s not rushed, not something we’ll pretend didn’t happen in the morning. We didn’t, we woke up that morning doing the same thing for 15 minutes, I counted.

according to evidence 1722727. i rest my case, guilty of being down bad. counting the amount and duration of the make out sesh is crazy

…And as much as I love sleeping next to Azzi like this every night, I desperately wish I was home now.

wish you were home??.. to an empty house paige??! remember why you’re reliving these past events

sorry this was a long reaction. but i loved it!! as always. but now that you’ve given us fluff, i fear the next one might shred my heart🫣

-🗑️ anon (mentioned alumni weekend and said they were gonna react to it later)

yayyy my favorite time!!

- paige stronger than me i couldn’t go through that TWICE is insane (the clock is out to get blondie)

-all paige does is break promises, that’s why azzi-

- azzi has sooo much patience for paige and i could t because i would get overstimulated so fast, duct tape on her mouth next chapter because me and azzi have had enough!!

-LMFAO SHE TAKES ACCOUNTABILITY FOR NOTHING

-she needs to go home she got shit to fix (her dumb self) if she don’t Azzi gon get her i fear 😓

can’t wait till post next chapter for ur live react!!

[fandomobbsessedb]

Wally Darling x Sleepy Reader

These are just some pretty basic head cannons for how I think Wally acts with a sleepy reader bc today I am a very sleepy person.

AN: I’ve taken so many naps today I just figured why not. Also I’m obsessed with this silly little yellow sentient puppet

Warnings: Slightly possessive Wally but that’s about it.

⚫️🔴🟠🟡🟢🔵🟣⚪️⚫️🔴🟠🟡🟢🔵🟣⚪️⚫️

💤- Wally is a very cuddly person, he never wants to be without you, if your sleeping he’ll just lay there and hold you or if you had a hard day, he’ll most likely rub your back/shoulders. Like this boi can just tell from looking at you your holding in a lot of tension.

( that’s probably how you got sleepy in the first place, came home, took off your shoes, let out a slightly loud sigh, and he came rushing over and starts applying pressure to your upper back muscles and boom, your out like a light.)

💤- I imagine that while you sleep he likes to stare at you and all his thoughts are consumed by you and how peaceful you look sleeping. You shift even a little bit in your sleep and his hand immediately comes up to your face and starts to lightly pet where your hairline meets your forehead, just gentle loving little brushes of his hands to help you back to sleep.

💤- if you wake up randomly in the night and get super thirsty all of a sudden, before you can even roll over to see if you got a water before going to bed, Wally’s standing there holding a tall glass of ice water and his soft tired smile.

💤- if you run cold at night he’s got so many comforters for all kinds of seasons that he lets you use. He’ll even wrap you up and bundle you together in a blanket burrito before laying you down so you can sleep comfortably. He’ll hold you all tight and comfy so that you keep warm.

💤- if you run hot he’s got a little stool on your side of the bed that has a lighter form of pajama wear than what you already had on so that you can just slip them on and take your old ones off and go right back to being comfy. He’s also learned to be content with just laying to the side and watching you drift off to dreamland so that you don’t get to warm with him cuddling into you.

💤- if you run on both and your body goes either way, he’s prepared for everything, he mostly just lays next to you admiring you and occasionally saying some (possessive??) things out loud that he couldn’t admit to your face just yet. Mans is just there whenever you need something, too hot? He’ll throw the blankets off of you and grab some water with a LOT of ice. suddenly freezing cold? he has blankets folded up on the bottom edge of the bed so you can control what is on your body and what’s not. He’ll even hold your feet to warm them up faster. Anything to keep you asleep so that he can see you in that relaxed state.

💤- Get overstimulated when it comes to trying to fall asleep/be asleep in general? He has a white noise sort of machine with all kinds of sounds, or big fluffy earmuffs that drown out everything. He’s got your pajama drawer organized by texture so that if you suddenly become irritated you can change out of those quickly. Got to many thoughts running in your brain? He’ll let you ramble and go on and on till you get it all out/he’s got a pen and paper right by your bed for you to quick jot your thoughts down. And you better believe he’s got weighted blankets in all your favorite colors! The minute your out he remembers to take it off but will help compensate by half laying on you to help you stay asleep.

💤- if you have a really bad time falling asleep, he’s got a bin next to his record player labeled “y/n’s sleep remedy” and he’ll put on the gentle music and even hum or sing some of it so that you can rest your head on his chest, and focus on the vibrations coming off his chest to help you sleep.

💤- there’s not much that goes on around the neighborhood, no real rush to do things, and Wally knows your schedule and routine by heart (even if you can’t remember it 100% of the time HE does) so in order to make sure that your in top health he won’t even let you leave the bedroom until you’ve gotten the proper amount of sleep. (In your sleep he tells Home to not let you out of the room till you’ve gotten enough sleep) He helps you keep a consistent bedtime schedule so that you can fall asleep at the same time each night but if you wake up earlier than normal he’ll do everything he can to help you back to sleep. (He can’t have you going out at night, nobody goes out at night…)

💤-And on the opposite end of that, if your not wanting to wake up just yet, or your still really tried, he doesn’t mind the two of you staying in bed for a while longer. Just gives him more time to admire you. However if it starts going on 1 or 2pm he starts to get worried and urges you to start the (end?) of the day.

💤- overall he cares VERY much about your health in regards to sleep, and loves to help you stay calm and relaxed in such a quiet vulnerable time of day. He feels like it’s the only time you’ll let any walls you have down and just be open with him. (When your sleeping though it’s the only time he’s completely open with you, all the things he wishes he could tell you in the day time. All his secrets, his own hopes and dreams to be with you forever, and never EVER have to let anyone else in) after all, it’s just like his favorite song to sing while he holds you in your sleep.

“Just the two of us…”

[l0vergirlwrites]

love & back rubs ; matthew murdock

warnings: slight angst + tooth rotting fluff

update: i've added an "ask" section on my profile, so if you want to submit a request or just ask me a question, feel free to!

it was a new part of your routine. sitting on your couch with a small pillow on your lap, matthew’s head resting on top of it as he laid across the other half of the couch, his eyes closed & breathing slowly while you comfort him.

it started after he opened up to you about his vigilante activities, telling you about his overstimulated senses & outstanding combat abilities you couldn’t wrap your mind around. matthew came to you all bloodied & bruised, in need of whatever you could give him so he wouldn’t have to bother claire for the millionth time.

so you sat with him on the same couch you were on now, cleaning your tired boyfriend with no questions asked, knowing he’d answer them later. matthew would always apologize profusely, the guilt in his chest eating him up until you’d kiss his temple, your hands caressing his face carefully & your voice filled with honey as you’d tell him, “it’s what i’m here for. don’t be sorry”.

it’s what started him coming to you after his patrols, not caring that he had to go to the office the next morning or if he should’ve gone straight home to work on a case. he’d come to you for comfort, especially on nights where he felt as if he was nothing.

so here you were, wearing matthews columbia hoodie & sweats while he wore a similar set, his head on the pillow in your lap with his knuckles freshly wrapped in sterile bandages, no smears of blood present on his face or body & luckily, no new stitches. you raked your hands through his dark brown hair, matthew sighing & mumbling something incoherent.

“what is it, matt?” you asked quietly, pausing your movements when you saw him readjust his position, moving his body closer to you so he could feel your warmth.

“can you rub my back?” he sounded so fragile, so delicate as he laid on you.

“of course” you told him sweetly, pressing a kiss to his hair before moving your left hand to his back, lifting his sweater up, knowing he preferred it this way.

your fingers rubbed the skin of his back up & down, the soft scratches making matthew pur into you, the stimulation spreading through his body making him feel at peace, making him feel good. your nails were the perfect length, not long but not short, just a little bit of length to give the best rubs.

matthews eyes were still closed & his ribs still ached from being punched too much hours ago, but what he was feeling now made up for it. you couldn’t help but smile at him as he continued to let out little noises of content as your fingers worked their magic.

“that feel good?” you mused, seeing him nod his head & let out a hum of satisfaction.

“good” pressing a kiss to matthew’s cheek, you saw a small smile form on his lips at the action.

you continued to press little kisses on his face around his eyes, nose, temple once more, jawline & his neck, your lips feeling feathery & soft when they touched his skin.

“thank you for taking care of me” he said, too tired to say more but he wanted to.

he wanted to go into depth about how kind you’ve been to him, how you always made room for him in your life despite his causing yours slight chaos. you treated him with such care, putting him first & making him feel loved, important, & most of all: happy. he wanted to show you with actions of how much he appreciated & loved you, but with how sore his muscles were, he’d have to do it another night.

“i feel like i don’t deserve how good you treat me sometimes…” he said a bit raspy, his left hand slipping under the cushion his head was on so he could touch your thigh, resting his hand there.

tutting at his words, you stopped rubbing his back & moved your hand to his shoulder, squeezing it. “you deserve me” you told him, your tone leaving no room for further debate. you knew he had a lot of self doubt, despite the large ego & amount of confidence he had. matthew was a softy at heart, a sensitive man who loved loudly.

“you’ll always deserve to be treated good, no matter what” you told him again, kissing his head again & feeling him struggle to turn onto his back.

looking up at you now, his unfocused eyes landing in your direction, he gave you a sad smile, grasping to hold one of your hands in one of his wrapped ones, the material of the bandage rubbing against your skin. kissing your knuckles, his slightly busted lip pressing into your skin, he said something that made your heart flip in circles.

“i love you”.

matthew was not used to saying those three words much, but they felt so right in this moment.

you.

the way you smiled & laughed. your aroma of coca butter & blueberry muffins. the warmth of your skin, soft with its beautiful irregularities that matthew loved to touch. your whimsical hair & clothes that felt perfect under the pads of his fingers. your amazing cooking & organization. your voice, the sounds you’d make when he’d touch you in the right places. your golden heart, your memory of small, meaningful details. everything about you made matthew love you.

looking down at him with a warm heart, nothing but adoration in your eyes despite all the obstacles you’ve faced with him in your arms, you just smiled. you smiled until your felt your face hurt.

"i love you too".

[sashi-ya]

For the mini nsfw event, Ichiji using his germa 66 genetics on you. Rough and hard that ended up with you overstimulated, squirting and even pissing all over him. Some more kinks I would like is size kink and belly bulge🥵🤤

Hiii my sinful anon, here I am with your request! I chose to write this fic as maybe a continuation of my first Ichiji fic! You can read it even if you haven't read the first one tho! I hope you enjoy 😈💖 ~

😈💜Sashi's Dark Corner💜😈

NSFW ~ Vinsmoke Ichiji x F! Reader ~ The Prince Is Back

tw: NSFW. Rough sex. Overstimulation. Squirting and pissing all over the damn Vinsmoke. Size kink. Belly bulge. Oral. Face fuck. Gag. Vag. Kinda cute ending?

a/n: you can read this fic as the second part of this one or by its own ~

wc: 2.9K (heh)

Like this event? masterlist ~

A slow morning that soon turns to afternoon finds you in complete peace. The sun is setting over the horizon and the breeze of the Grandline plays with your hair. Living in the castle, as his personal… bitch, as he likes to call you, has been a really good experience. You are still a servant, but not like the others. You are his “woman”.

Ichiji has changed since he met you. At first you were supposed to be just a semen container, an incubator for the next prince, but he found something in you he had never felt before… Is not that he suddenly became like his brother Sanji, so delicate and lovely, but for a Germa prince to sleep with the same woman on his bed every night is a lot.

In the distance, while you look through the balcony of your lover’s -owner- room, you can see the flying flag with the double 6 on it. Ichiji is coming back, the next King will be received with pompous canticles from the army of clones but he won’t mind, and instead he will come straight to your room… and for that you should get ready; the adrenaline of fighting and slaughtering enemies makes him extremely aroused and horny.

It is not that you are not anxious, in fact you are, your body is. They have told you not to fall in love with him, that he won’t feel love for you, because he can’t. But what do they know? They know nothing. And the exhilaration on your bowels at the anticipation of him taking you is everything you are focusing on now…

You are completely naked, just like he wants you. He doesn’t like to waste time undressing you -ripping apart your clothes-. He likes you waiting for him kneeling in front of the door, with the perfume of roses he specifically asked them to prepare for you. For some reason, that special rose oil turns him on like crazy… maybe it has to do with the fact that you were the “girl of the red roses” when he first saw you around the castle…

or maybe it is not that romantic.

And you wait, kneeling over the red velvet carpet, pressing your core against your heels, moving side to side to ease the anxiety of Ichiji coming home.

A loud bump on the door opens it in front of you, revealing him still wearing his crimson raid suit. White cape, so different from the rest of his brothers, his face a little stained in blood. Blood you are not sure whether comes from him, or from his enemies -most likely from others-.

“Where is my bitch?”

“Here I am, Ichiji-sama ❤ ~”

“Come here, bitch ~”

Sparking Red lifts you up with just one hand, so strong, body hard like steel. A yellow glove around your naked waist, tickling your flesh with the half leathery half cold feeling of them. You take off his glasses and throw them to the ground. You are the only one allowed, because he has specially granted you the privilege to do so.

Sky blue, deep like the ocean, so full of lust, eyes fix on yours. “I’m gonna fuck you so hard, bitch… so fucking hard. Today I wanna keep the suit…” he says, with that classic smirk, paralyzing yet sexy, announcing how sore you will be tonight.

The white cape that covers his neck ends up on the floor, there is no need for him to use it here, the hardness of his skin and especially his dick is enough density for the time.

You fly to the bed as he throws you like you were made out of air. “Spread!” he commands, just like the first time, he always wants you spreading your legs for him. “Gonna ruin that little slit right there…” he laughs, taking off his special belt and sticking his tongue out. A little string of saliva from his mouth falls over your entrance, making your squirm at the warm touch of it.

“Let me see…” he says, taking one of his gloves off his hand and passing his thumb up and down your sex. “So wet, bitch… have you been playing without me, hhm?” he asks, always smirking, never mad at your arousal.

“I… I was a little horny while waiting for you, my Prince” you confess, biting your lower lip and pressing your knees together as you balance yourself from side to side. “Oh… you did? I should leave you tied next time so you don’t touch yourself waiting for my dick” he perversely communicates to you what he is probably doing next time. “In fact, I think I wanna tie you now, too…”

Ichiji passes his hand through his hair, undoing his fancy hairdo. Red longer strands fall over his shoulders giving the prince an extra wild look. Beast so horny for you, unties the red fine scarf around his neck and pounds over you. While his pulpy lips linger over yours and desperate pants warm the reddish tone of your smile, he ties your wrists over your head with his bandana. The tightness that you can definitely feel in your skin, the silky material sharply leaving marks on it as he pulls more and more from it to constrict it.

“There, there is no way that you could touch yourself now. I am the only owner of this pussy and I get to choose whatever I wanna do with it”

You moan at his supremacy statement; you are nothing but his cum doll and you love it since the very first time…

Ichiji-sama sticks, not subtly but ferally, his middle and ring finger inside you. Pressing your lower belly, a little too hard, he goes in and out with beckoning motion. He hits that special part, the heavenly pressure inside you that makes you squirm and moan louder. “M-more” you whine. “What? This? You like...this?” he smirks, going in and out faster and rougher. “Y-yes… my prince I…”

The red haired demon has just started touching you and you are already on the verge of tears, pleasure tears. He knows how to make you tremble, and he always wants you to lose control, complete and total control of your own body. As a ruler, as a future king with clear royal ideals there is nothing he likes more than to be the maestro of your body orchestra to make you play the most beautiful melody with your moans.

You, on the verge of climax, can only moan and let him do as he pleases. And even if you wished you could touch him, the knot of the bandana around your wrists it’s too tight for you to free yourself from it.

He sticks his fingers out, playing with the strings of your arousal elixirs. Always smirking as he inspects the wetness that covers them up, so proud of being the one to make you so horny and needy. “Taste test, heh” he mumbles, and takes his hand to his mouth. He devours his own fingers, tasting your fluids’ ambrosia, closing eyes in delight.

“I’m kinda hungry…” he says, and flops into bed with his face in between your legs. He does not wait a single second, and uses his whole tongue over your sex, making you scream at his initial touch. “Ooff, bitch you are wetter than ever. Did you miss me?” he asks, muzzled by your throbbing anatomy. “I did… baby… my prince…” you moan, slipping a sweet “baby” in the middle, realizing you have probably committed a huge mistake…

You hear him laugh, whether sarcastically or for real you don’t know, but definitely you will face the consequences of such a cute nickname. “Baby?” he asks, cleaning the mess of your sex on his chin with his forearm. “I… I’m so sorry, Ichij-sam-” you mumble, but he is not mad, and instead kisses you with salty lips.

“You love me, don’t you?” he asks, burying his nails on your cheeks. “Tell me you love me, come on…” he insists, eyes on fire and perhaps with a special sparkle behind. “I… I do. I love you, my prince” you mumble, sad because you know deep inside, he is asking because he think his worth only comes for how good he is when fucking you… damn Judge, raising monsters that believe the only love they deserve is given if they don’t fail…

He smirks, once again. A huge grin, in between perversity and relief. You wouldn’t expect for him to be insecure, but he is, and he needs constant reassurance. “I love you so much” you dare to repeat, just to make the idea settle into his brain.

“Good girl” he grunts, and you hear the zipper of his red pants go down. And you tremble, oh you do… you don’t know if it’s just part of his normal body or because of the genetic modifications, but he is huge. Really huge. And you, compared to him, look like a little nymph.

Ichiji’s length now rests over your belly, he gets ready to fuck you and you know that means feeling you are being ripped apart. His Germa powers make him extremely strong and resistant, and also fast. His hips are fast, his hips move mercilessly in and out every time he takes you… and today it won’t be different.

His pants finally fall to the ground as he stands next to the bed. You, so ready for it, wait for him to finally attack. His hard, long, sex barely covered by the long upper part of his suit, drips precum into the floor. Your mouth gets watery, but you want him fully undressed. His body is a perfect work of art to be covered by clothes.

The prince looks at you up and down, ocean eyes scanning your naked body. He spits on his hand and takes it to his dick, while pulling his red shirt up with the other. “Come here, kneel on the edge of the bed” he commands, and that means just one thing; first, you will be faced fuck, then he will destroy your insides.

“Yes, my prince” you diligently say and crawl closer to him with difficulty as you still have your wrists tied. “Call me baby, if you prefer” he whispers, looking at the side, and you could swear his cheeks tinted in red after that statement. “Sure, baby ~” you tell him, smiling sweetly. Step by step… he is learning the meaning of love.

His thumb plays with your lips, before commanding you to open your mouth and receive his sex inside. You do as he tells, feeling your cave stuffed. He is so big and even if the tip of his dick hits your throat repeatedly it is impossible for you to take it all inside. You gag, tears in the corner of your eyes, gasping for air, strings of his honeys form on your tongue. Your eyes fix on his head thrown back, and the way his sharp jaw pulls and tense his neck’s muscles.

With grunts, like a beast, he thrusts in your mouth while pulling from your hair. “Swallow” he orders, and you feel his gland get imprisoned by your throat flesh, making him moan with that sweet sexy voice tone he has. “Bab…Bitch, you do it so well… you were done for sucking my dick”

But the twist and pull of your nipples while he keeps fucking your mouth are not enough and you sincerely want him to fuck you… and call you baby.

“Stop, stop. Let me fuck you now, I wanna fill you up and I want you to moan loud enough for the whole castle to hear you, ok?” “Yes, baby”

He pushes you back, falling over the mattress with your back. But Ichiji won’t fuck you in a classic missionary position, of course not. “Turn around” he orders, helping you lay on your belly. You watch his reflection on the window next to bed, and before him taking off the long sleeved upper part of his suit, he takes a look at the orange sky. You know this man too well to notice there is more than lust in those eyes…

He flops over your back; his crushing weight makes your chest to barely and superficially move in order for you to get at least some gasp of air. Your wrists hurt; the bandana gets tighter every time you move your hands. Your arms rest over your head and you use your forearm to separate your face from bed.

“Let me take this out for you” he utters, placing first a kiss on your back that makes your skin go bumpy. His veiny hands skilfully untie the bandana revealing red marks around your wrists. “Auch” he giggles, grazing the marks with his index. But as much as the whole red marks situation is getting most of your attention, you can't ignore how his hand is now guiding his sex in between your legs.

Ichiji keeps your legs closed with his own, on each side and sits softly over the back part of your thighs. “It will feel tighter, you know? Bite my bandana” he warns and commands you, making you get the cloth inside your mouth. You close your eyes, and bite so eager to receive this man inside you. He slides inside you, slowly -torturing you, not to protect you from any pain-. Your walls stretch, as you feel him filling your cave. The position makes his dick’s subtle up curving form hit your g-spot and just when you thought he was completely inside you, he gives you a violent blow. Deep, so deep. You could swear you felt the tip on your stomach.

He grunts at your clenching, constricting walls around his length. You moan, shouting louder not because he has asked you for it, but because you genuinely feel the need to do so. “Ich… Ichiji…” you moan, biting the bandana, getting drunk with the scent of his skin. Classical, delicious, sweet like a treat, like a dessert.

Ichiji grunts, and annoyed pulls from your hair. His lips graze your cheek, and he whispers in between moans “Ichiji?”. “Baby…” you whine, so sorry for disrespecting your owner. “That’s. So. Much. Better” he says, each thrust pronouncing a word.

And he goes rough, rough, and hard. Huge palm open that sometimes squeezes and sometimes slaps your ass. You feel stuffed with his member inside you, sweating and out of breath, leaving you once again on the verge of climax, you are losing control of your own organic functions.

“Come here” he whispers and stops his hammering motion just to turn you around. You end up sitting over his crossed legs, Ichiji grabs your waist and pushes you against him. He goes even deeper now, and your eyes widen to see how the bulge in your belly shows every time he impales you. He doesn't need to make an effort, his hips move in and out of you quickly, hard, strong.

You rest your arms with sore wrists over his naked fair and wide shoulders, almost going limp, almost crying. The stimulus of his dick destroying your inside, the way he breathes into your mouth, panting, grunting, sometimes biting your lip, everything is making you ascend to heaven.

You feel a pressure so soon to be relieved, pressure that builds up on your lower belly, getting wet by increasing arousal fluids but also about to lose control even from your bladder.

"B-baby… I feel like I'm gonna pee myself here" you moan, desperately because you don't want to ruin the moment but you are desperately trying to regain consciousness on the administration of your own body parts.

"That means you are about to burst and come, do it" he moans, this time less serious and letting himself go into the upcoming orgasm that soon will hit him too. "But..." You whine, tears in your eyes from the overstimulation, from the incapacity of control yourself.

"Shut up and let it go...baby" he insists, kissing you, burying his nails into your ass so he could make you hump even faster over his dick.

Baby… baby… he called you baby…

You moan, he moans too and the pressure inside you releases. Squirting, letting your bladder do whatever he wants, wetting his lap, you come. This is the first time you are experiencing so freely to allow your body to do whatever it pleases, while fixing your eyes into his, feeling soon how Ichiji gets extremely aroused by your fluids lets himself go, filling you up with his warm release.

Messed sheets, kissing passionately like never before, his arms around your waist, caressing your back up and down in loving motions. "Baby…" he smiles, with his lips pressed against yours. He is happy, so happy to pronounce a sweet nickname to you, this is a new him, a free him.

Every time your bodies encounter, he takes a step further into understanding that what he feels for you might be something they say he is unable to experience; love…

"Come on, let's take a shower" he says, and even if you thought he was telling you to go get clean by your own, you were wrong. Ichiji carried you in his arms, and both enjoy the warm feeling of a soothing bath, together 💜~

[introloves]

Just thinking about being super Domestic with Aone! He starts thinking about what a great little wife you’d be and how sweet you are. One day you casually mention what a great father he’d be if you guys had children and it does something to him! 💓

papa! aone + housewife! reader + HEAVY BREEDING KINK + talk of pregnancy (no kids) + princess complex + pillow princess! reader + overly protective! aone + praise + mating press + squirting + size kink + overstimulation + dacryphilia + creampie + f! reader

— word count; approx 2k

you treat him so gentle- a big man like him coming home to you after a long day of work always brings out a near overwhelming need to take care of him, to be there at every beck and call, waiting for him so pretty, looking towards the door with every second coming closer to him coming how to you.

everything you do for him doesn’t go unnoticed, aone doesn’t say much, but he returns your sweet kisses with an equal amount of love and adoration for his sweet little wife.

you’re near ravenous when he finally comes home, shrugging off his coat, boots taken off at the door, handkerchief in hand to wipe any lingering dust and dirt from his hands- not wanting to dirty any surface you’d spent all day cleaning. he’s even apprehensive in giving you his coat- looking at you with pinched lips, grunting while gently placing it in your waiting hands.

he doesn’t touch you until he’s all showered, even when you insist that it’s okay, the dirt beneath his nails from working, from being outside all day makes him feel dirty, you’re his princess, his pretty baby- how could he ever think to lay a soiled finger onto your soft and well taken care of skin...

he usually relents to your whines, begrudgingly bending down to place a quick kiss to your pretty lips- puckered and waiting for his own to press onto yours. he makes a straight line to the bathroom, showering, rolling his shoulders back once he steps out- towel secured ‘round his hips, and once again walking in a practiced route to your shared room.

he doesn’t change, he can’t because as soon as he’s out, you’re sat on the bed. pillows, blankets- comforter fluffed daily in anticipation for him to fuck you.

eyes eagerly drinking in his every step, water running down rounded out muscle, not so defined- not anymore. the home cooked meals that you make for him has treated him well, form fluffed out with muscle that’s more fitted for his job, it’s dense and packed in, thick. it makes your pussy throb.

“how was work papa?” you question sweetly, legs spreading wide to receive his body, slick folds wetly (and loudly) parting for him while you pin your knees on either side of you, giggling at the way he sucks a breath in every time, eyes looking at the pussy he so adores, mouth salivating.

he loves coming home to you.

he loves how soft you are, warm- thinks there’s nothing better smelling and more comforting than sinking deep- so very deep into the tight and wet heat that is your pretty pussy.

letting the towel fall at the foot of the bed, his cock hangs in a thick curve over his heavy balls, pretty white pubes decorating his crotch, tummy clenching in anticipation, it’s a sight seeing him get hard, thick length bending with how big he is- even fully hard there’s a delicious curve, gravity not too kind to him.

“good... i missed you.” aone mumbles. huffing as his now cleaned, calloused- thick... such thick hands reach to finally touch, soothing up the expanse of your legs, wondering how someone so pretty- so beautiful is laid out beneath him, pussy drooling for a cock like his.

you purr, smiling, body twisting- pushing up as his hands press you down.

“missed you more... was thinking about you- ‘bout something in particular.” you mumble, lidded eyes wandering up to his neck. watching the pretty blooming blush roll down all the way to his chest- wanting to reach up and remark and fading hickies, fingertips ghosting along faded lines of your nails dug in the moment of overwhelming passion.

“hm.” he hums, giving you his whole attention as you speak- looking at your lips as you form every word, planting heavy hands to the apex of your legs, digging the pads of every finger into the giving flesh, encouraging you to continue with a nod, all while kneading and squishing your body.

“was just thinking what a good papa you are- was thinking if you’d give me a baby... to keep me company while you leave.” you breathe, pulse quickening at the thought- head spinning the second the last word tumbles free, all because you’re suddenly pulled down.

it’s near audible, a lowly groan spreading forth from the deepest parts of his chest while he huffs- pale chest rising and falling rapidly, cock visibly throbbing- balls clenching, there’s even a moment where he thinks he may cum.

“f-fuck- a baby?” he exhales, tipping his head back, the stutter making you look at him with a hint of curiosity.

blinking away the base need to shove his cock inside, blinking away the need to push your head into the bed and dump load after load of his cum inside you, all with the intent to make you round with his kid he pulls your legs up he comes down towards you.

all to make you fat and pretty and waddle around while he takes you hand in hand everywhere you need to go.

he doesn’t realizes his hips have instinctively rutted down into you- too caught up in the thought of holding you while fat with a baby the two of you made.

hands dimpling your soft skin- muscle memory carrying every action, already folding you down, knees nearly pressing against your chest, heavy cock slotted onto your cunt, squished between your bent legs.

“i’ll give you a baby. my princess wants a baby.” he grunts, gone dizzy. all of this taking place in mere seconds of you spilling the thought. he says it like it’s a command from you, tunnel vision suckering him in, barely able to see you in the absolute need to give his princess everything her pretty heart desires.

you don’t know where he’s gone, obviously lost in a heavy headspace- popping the head of his still throbbing cock into you, crying in suspense. this is all so exciting, he’s always so eager to bring you what you want, always willing to move the stars and moon for you and now he’s answering to the fantasy you built up all day.

“p-papa!” you squeal, sucking in a breath when he barrels into you with a near punishing thrust.

this is different, he’s different. he’s always cautious with every thrust, but there’s no regret or remorse while the second slam of his hips knock into you. kicking legs just barely able to squirm at all with the way they’re perched on his broad shoulders, you watch as they dangle, watch while he stares you down, his own body moving with intent- drilling into your sopping pussy.

“papa!” you yell this time, soft hands holding onto his arms, his large palms resting on either side of your face while he folds himself down, the creak, sway of the bed dangerously loud- sucking every breath from inside your lungs.

he’s never been this rough, never- and your lips curl with every open mouth yell.

he fucks into you like you’re not there, thick cock splitting you open- filling your cunt, bringing you so very early into a blinding orgasm.

it’s so wet- eyes wet, pussy wet while you squirt and gush, crying out tiny little whimpers of his name as every wave of orgasm takes you. it splatters all over his thighs, painting his tummy, dripping back down onto you hotly.

this is all he needs, needs you wet and messy, needs your pussy swollen and slicked with need and cum so you can take such a big cock easier- if you take it easier he can use every inch of strength he has to dig the swollen and still throbbing cockhead right up to your cervix. he can almost see the swollen ring so ready to take his cum, displacing your own weepy orgasm, making room to receive all of his own thick, milky orgasm.

“good girl- my good girl.” aone nearly chokes, unfocused eyes zoning down onto your bent form, pussy lips and folds sucked in and out in with each drag.

you’re melted, reduced to a babbling little baby under his large mass- doing so well, taking someone so strong and so big like him with nothing more than a few overstimulated tears. drool forming at the corner of your mouth, the only thing you can do is wait for his cum like the pretty princess you are.

“papa- ‘ts too much- too much.” you gasp, wandering eyes roaming up his neck, landing on hardened eyes.

“no- no it’s not. you want a baby. i’m giving you a baby.” he speaks- knowing this is hard on someone treated like a doll, soft hands digging into the veined arms of his, same hands that never work too hard for anything at all, all because he insists on treating you with any and everything.

and just like everything else, he knows he needs to cut this short- knows you’re tired and wanting to drift off onto a nap, so aone fucks you deeply.

he needs to bend further and kiss away the tears spilling down your soft and plush cheeks- heated with the exertion he’s putting your body under, gently apologizing. the high and heated coiled need to breed you slowly waning, now just needing to paint your pussy with his cum.

“it’s okay- it’s okay, papa loves you- you’re okay.”

the gentleness, lowly and grunted words truly bring you peace, trembling under him- hiccuping at the thrusts he gives you, exhaling heavy when he tips forward to an orgasm finally.

sealing hips down to your own, rutting with securely placed knees down onto the bed.

he pushes you up a good amount, crinkling the bedding around your limp body, pistoning shallow thrusts, each one stickier- messier, harder to deliver as he cums. thick cock pulsating in need, sinking into such silky gummy walls all shaped to the form of his large cock.

he huffs equally shallow breaths, tired- so tired from an intense fucking, balls squeezing up tight to his body, every contraction followed by a deep squish of him to you.

“fuck- fuck.” aone groans, his shaking form transferred down to you, slowly bringing your aching legs off the perch of his shoulders. he gathers the last bit of strength residing in his body to take care of you, once more- with a gentleness only found in someone who’s been cautious of their own strength their whole life, he places your legs onto the bed.

you’re still dizzy as he does so, unable to keep the seizing of your muscles down- body heated and sweaty with how he folded your form into his desired state, slowly blinking your eyes more and more open.

blurry gaze landing on him, watching with a slowly growing smile as he looks at you with a reserved guilt.

“it’s okay.” you whisper, only able to whisper for the time being- “i’m okay.”

but even with what you say, he brings a large palm to your tummy, holding it there- reminding himself that it was to give you what you wanted. you just look so broken now, limbs unmoving, all dead weight while he positions your body much more comfortably.

with a nod, he pushes down any worry to hold you tight- swollen muscle wrapping your precious body up. your giggles bringing forth a near exasperated smile from him- wondering how his sweet baby still can be so... sweet after being fucked like that.

sleepy face burying into the crook of his neck while he fights to keep his softened cock inside you, pulling his princess onto him, slotting the plushness of you against his body.

“pretty.” he mumbles once the two of you are relaxed, basking in the tiredness throbbing throughout two fucked out forms.

“pretty baby.” aone whispers, bringing down a large hand to your tummy.

you can’t lift your head off his chest to give him a sweet smile, instead giggling with how well your papa takes care of you, how well he loves and gives you everything your pretty pink heart wants.

[corrodedcoffinkid]

hurt/comfort autistic!eddie munson x steve where theyre at the store and its more crowded than usual, and the amount of people, noise, and bright lights overwhelm eddie too much?

people tend to ignore the fact that autism isnt just at home and it bothers me, sometimes you need to calm down right then and there. you dont choose when to have meltdowns it can happen anywhere and you cant just go find a quiet private place to calm down in a crowded store

i’m gonna be honest i’ve completely avoided writing eddie having a metldown in public because it reminds me of my own public meltdowns and i Don’t Like That

“Cereal, cereal, cereal,” Eddie says, following Steve down the isles of the grocery store. The word’s been stuck on his tongue for a while now. It sounds nice, doesn’t it? “Cereal, cereal, cereal.”

The repetition of the word… it feels nice to him- soothes him a bit. The lights buzzing in the grocery store are deafening today. Plus, it’s busy, and Eddie swears his brain is trying to process everyone���s conversations all at once.

“Eds?”

“Hm?“ Eddie hums, pausing his vocal stim.

“Are you okay?”

Eddie nods. “Fine.”

Liar, he thinks. Eddie knows he isn’t fine, but he doesn’t want to embarrass Steve. All he really wants to do is leave, go home, and enjoy complete silence. Meanwhile, he’s sure all Steve wants to do is have one peaceful outing for God’s sake.

Tears well up in Eddie’s eyes at the thought of embarrassing his boyfriend.

Then, it happens.

Somebody in another isle drops something. Eddie doesn’t know what. He hears the impact, then the shattering. Have the lights always been this loud? This bright?

“Eddie? Eddie?” Steve watches helplessly as his boyfriend covers his ears, and curls in on himself in the middle of the cereal isle. Thighs to chest, Eddie starts to rock himself back and forth.

It’s too loud, it’s too much. He can’t do this.

He’s crying now- crying to make it stop, out of embarrassment, out of sadness.

Steve realizes they’ve attracted a crowd. Eddie’s head is tucked into his legs now- too embarrassed to look up. Steve shoos the crowd away. “Nothing to see here- move along.”

Abandoning any and all intentions of getting groceries today, Steve crouches down next to Eddie. Still rocking himself, Eddie doesn’t look up. “Hey,” Steve says softly, “We’re going home, okay?”

“N-No, we-we need to get groceries! You said we needed to get groceries!”

Steve sighs. How could Eddie possibly be more worried about finishing shopping than his own well being? “I’ll come back later, it’s fine! I’m more worried about you than our produce!”

Sniffling, Eddie shakes his head. “No! I’m just- I’m just a freak! We can’t do anything without me acting like a fucking freak!”

Ignoring the hurtful words, Steve grabs Eddie and stands him up. Eddie whines, squeezing his eyes shut. Those lights are impossibly bright. Steve leads him to the car, ignoring Eddie’s protests. “I don’t care about the groceries, Eds. We’re going home.”

To Eddie’s surprise, Steve doesn’t sit him in the passenger’s seat. Instead, he piles them both in the back of the car. Steve lays Eddie down in the backseat, resting his head in his lap. “Deep breaths, baby.”

“I-I-I’m so-orry.”

“Shh, shh,” Steve coos. “Take a deep breath with me.”

Steve coaches Eddie’s breathing- careful in making sure he’s not hyperventilating. “Good job,” Steve says, “One more deep breath for me.”

Eddie does as told. Steve’s right, he does feel a little better now. The panic and overstimulation is easing up, but the embarrassment and sadness couldn’t be stronger. “I’m sorry,” Eddie says again.

“You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“I embarrass you!“ Eddie cries out. “We can’t go anywhere without me acting like a fr-”

“Eddie Munson.” Steve looks down, meets Eddie’s eyes. “Don’t you dare say that again. You. Are. Not. A. Freak.”

“Y-Yes I-I am!”

“Being overstimulated doesn’t make you a freak, Eds. Your brain just works differently- that’s all.” Steve thinks for a moment. “Besides, without that beautiful brain of your’s, you wouldn’t be able to do what you love.”

Eddie’s eyebrows furrow in confusion.

“Well, think about it. You feel things so intensely. Even if sometimes those feelings are bad… think about when they’re good! You’re so, so good at the guitar, Eds… better than anybody I’ve ever met. Plus, you know more about DnD than any guy I know!”

“E-Even Dustin?”

“Even Dustin.”

Eddie sighs, “Do you… Do you get embarrassed by me? Be honest.”

Almost instantly, Steve answers, “No. You could never make me embarrassed to love you, Eddie.”

“Promise?”

Steve wipes away a tear from Eddie’s cheek. “I promise.”

[notanotherreidgirl]

ok so imagine that u and virgin!baby boy Reid are roommates (you share an apartment and ur rooms are right next to eachother) and he can always hear u moan every night that you play with yourself, but he feels to guilty to do anything about his little ‘problem’. and suddenly one night he’s like super horny and jerks off, not knowing that you’re awake and can hear everything. you try to drown him out until you hear him moan your name, so you go to his room and slowly open the door so he doesn’t hear you and when he feels you on the bed he’s super apologetic but you’re like “it’s okay baby boy😏” and he’s like “please mommy let me make you feel good🥺” and even though its his first time hes so good and when you let him fuck you hes so whiny and needy 😩😩😩😩

We Shouldn't

Warnings: loss of virginity, masturbating, handjob, oral sex (male receiving), perv!spence, sub!spence, mommy kink, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, creampie

Word Count: 1444

A/N: I embellished a bit - apologies

Spencer made life or death decisions nearly every day. He had to carefully craft his words when talking down unsubs and be able to assess dangerous situations in seconds to decide whether or not to shoot someone but now, when faced with a relatively simple choice, he was completely stumped. He had been rooted to the spot for nearly 20 minutes, unable to process the sight before him.

In his defense, Spencer had very little experience with women’s underwear and certainly no experience with something like the lacy little number you had left in the dryer. At this point, he had spent so much time staring at you that he knew without a doubt that they were yours. He also knew that he most definitely should not be picking them up right now or putting them in his pocket or running out of the laundry room and back to his apartment without putting his clothes to dry. And he most definitely should not be stashing your panties in his bedside table. But, alas, should not is not the same as did not.

For example, he should not watch you from his window when you went off on your morning run clad in running shorts and a tank top. He also should not linger behind you in the stairwell, eyes glued to your ass as you bounded up the stairs. And he certainly should not listen to you get yourself off at night but he did, even going as far as to take down his framed map and press his ear up against the wall. Spencer’s only saving grace was that thus far he had managed not to touch himself thinking of you, the overwhelming guilt forcing him to take a cold shower instead. But tonight was different. Tonight the panties in his bedside table were beckoning him as he ate leftover takeout, calling his name as leafed through books he’d already memorized, burning a hole through the wooden drawer as he slipped under the covers and listened for you on the other side of the wall.

There’s no harm in just holding them, he reasoned. The next thing he knew the panties were out of the drawer and in his hand and his pants had somehow slipped to mid-thigh in the process. This could be fine. I’ll find a way to give them back tomorrow and no one will know.

And maybe, just maybe, if Spencer was a man of more restraint he would’ve gotten away with it but he was not. He could hear you getting ready for bed, singing quietly to yourself. It was oddly intoxicating to know that you were going about your business, completely unaware of him and convinced that you were operating within the privacy of your own home.

Except you weren’t ignorant of your next door neighbor. Thin walls worked both ways and you could hear his soft moans reverberating into your own bedroom. You sang a little louder to drown him out, guilt eclipsing your excitement. You had often wondered about the young doctor next door - always coming and going at odd hours, never meeting your eyes or bringing anyone back to his for the night. He was so nervous around you, it made you wonder if he’d ever been with a woman but you shook the thought from your head. I should not be thinking about my neighbor’s sex life or lack thereof.

Just as you resolved to go in the kitchen and leave him in peace you heard it. It was unmistakable. You stilled listening intently, half-convinced your imagination was playing tricks on you as it often did. But there it was again clear as day. “Fuck, Y/N”

You were an overthinker, always going over your options rationally and hardly ever comfortable with making spur of the moment decisions. But you were out of your apartment in seconds, using the spare key he had nervously entrusted you with weeks ago to slip into his place. A little voice in your head tried in vain to talk sense into you. You should not be breaking into an FBI agent’s apartment.

If only should not was the same as did not.

He had his back to you and you took the opportunity to perch yourself on the edge of his bed, the shift in the mattress finally alerting him to your presence. He whirled around in alarm and instinctively tried to hide himself and the stolen underwear, already soaked in precum and wrapped around his erection. You tilted your head slightly, trying your best to hide a smirk. “I thought I heard you calling for me”

“I-no-I can explain,” he flushed a deep scarlet, his futile attempts to conceal his predicament were only making it worse and there was no way he could come up with a plausible explanation with your eyes on him. The panic rising in his chest swelled - the feeling that he had ruined everything starting to trigger an overwhelming urge to cry. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry”

You softened your gaze, reaching out to place a reassuring hand on his thigh. “It’s ok, baby boy”

Just then, something changed. A switch flipped, a light came on, a natural dynamic fell into place. Very gently you took his hand, forcing him to uncover himself.

“Wouldn’t you rather the real thing?” With that you trailed his hand up your thigh and to your soaked core, letting him skim his fingers over the wetness between your legs and take in the notable lack of panties.

“I-uh-yes, but-” he stopped for a moment, searching deep within himself for a shred of courage before blurting out the rest. “I’m a virgin”

Much to his surprise, you didn’t even bat an eye, instead, you sunk down on your knees and ran your hands up his thighs. “Well then, we’d better make this extra special”

You replaced his hands, taking hold of his cock over the panties and setting in with a deliberate pace before running your tongue over his balls. You toyed with the soft flesh until you felt his thighs tremble and the whimpers he had been trying to suppress spilled from his lips. Once you were certain he had abandoned any sense of restraint you started to suck on his balls, relentlessly pulling him into your mouth and teasing him with your tongue. At this point he was incomprehensible, any words he might have said being carried away by the sobs working their way up his throat and the tears streaming down his face. Just when you were sure he’d come you retreated, pressing sloppy kisses down his thighs and removing your hands from his cock.

He whined. “Please, Mommy. Let me make you feel good.”

You pushed yourself up and into his lap, taking your shirt off in the process and cradling his face in your hands. “You think you can make Mommy come?”

He nodded into your chest, capturing a nipple into his mouth and instinctively sucking on it. You guided his hands to your waist and you lined yourself up with his tip, slowly sinking down and adjusting to his size. He gripped your waist tightly, willing himself not to come as he watched himself disappear into you. “All right then, let’s see if you can be a good boy.”

Spencer sprang into action, taking hold and bouncing you on his cock as he rutted into you. Simultaneously he continued to latch onto your breasts, littering your chest with marks. You dug your nails into his shoulders, feeling the tide of your release start to sweep you away. “Yes, just like that, baby. You’re being so good for me. So fucking good. My good boy.”

Just before you reached your peak, you threaded a hand in Spencer's hair and pulled him up to look at you. Those big brown eyes stared up at you, pupils dilated and vision hazy with lust. “I want you to come with me, baby. Right now.”

It was like nothing you had ever felt before, pure euphoria coursing through your veins and only amplifying when Spencer flooded you with his warm release. He gave a few more shallow thrusts, whimpering from the overstimulation before the two of you collapsed back onto the bed. You shifted slightly so you could hold him in your arms without separating, brushing his hair back behind his ear as he buried his face into your neck, now overcome with embarrassment over his actions. “I’m sorry, Mommy. I shouldn’t have taken your panties”

You tightened your embrace and pressed a kiss to the top of his head. “It’s ok, darling. I’m glad you did.”

---

Taglist: @thatsonezesty13 @rosienie @newyorkaqua @coldlilheart @spencerreider @newgirlinhell @ssa-natalya-reid @lauryn-need-help @spencerscumrag @gublerzwhore @beepbooptoop @stylesstreet @zoeygraygubler @deiondraaa​ @Nct-nyny @optimisticcloudmoon @centiaaa​ @ifvckedurmom @6r4cie @dontcallmekittens​ @subbyspencereid​ @kuolonsyoja​ @reid-me-a-story​ @spencerreidsmommy @aharvey979​ @lunajoyce3 @kaz_2y567​​ @mystical-and-modern-marauder @marrymespencerrei @idk @blayneve @heymxparker @crypticcorvidinacottage @youabitchhhh @samaraaaaa @spencerreid-mgg @woodstock-14 @eatourart @everyonesfavoritepipecleaner @iilwsr @indigotheshyboy @whytf2457 @spencerreid-187 @spencerreidsmommy @ready-for-spencie

Click here to join a taglist and here to tell me what you thought of this one!

[duskholland]

Stuck With(out) You - Mob!Tom Smut

tom was having a really nice day until the metropolitan police decided to crash his date.            or, when the law finally catches up to london’s most notorious mobster, tom learns that nothing is fair in love and war.

word count ↠ 15k. warnings ↠ angst with a happy ending, alcohol, a car chase, extensive depictions of prison, violence (very minor injury detail), tattooing, pregnancy, bad language, smut! there are extended nsfw warnings below the cut but this is 18+ so minors please do not interact.  a/n ↠ this is a work of fiction and is not meant to be taken 100% seriously! similarly to every other fic I’ve written about mob!tom, I don’t condone any of the actions shown in this story and all depictions of the mob and prison are entirely fictional. please do not date members of the mafia even if they are tom holland !!!!! + this fic was conceptualised before the release of cherry, and there are no purposeful links to the content of that film! the image from esquire that I’ve used is what led me down this path lmfao...esquire I love/hate you. ++ the biggest thank you ever to the wonderful @uglypastels​ for helping me with the initial brainstorm on this one, and for just generally being so supportive as I’ve struggled with writers block :’) I wouldn’t have ever been able to think this up let alone have the motivation to write this without you, so thank you and ily z <3  +++ there is a pov change halfway through this fic! it is intentional and you should be able to see it pretty easily but I’m just flagging it so you don’t think I lost it halfway through ahahha. enjoy!

nsfw warnings ↠ car sex, soft!dom!tom ft minor sir kink, oral and fingering (fem-receiving), multiple orgasms with brief refs to overstimulation, minor pregnancy kink, unprotected sex ft cumshot. 

✧ *:･ﾟStuck With(out) You･ﾟ:*✧

There’s something wrong with you, and Tom can’t quite put his finger on it.

He wonders if it’s the wine. He’d spent hours debating the type of grape and ideal bitterness, scouring his memory in search of the perfect blend to share with you on your date. Eventually, he’d settled on the same deep red that he’d shared with you the first time he’d visited your flat, back when your love was just a small spark. Three years have passed since then, the nerves of early romance melted away and replaced by knowing and love, but the wine has recurred each time one of you has decided to treat the other, so what better blend to bring along to the picnic that Tom had so meticulously planned?

You haven’t touched your glass, and Tom—for all his confidence and charm—is deeply unsettled by this.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” he asks for what feels like the tenth time, with brows furrowed so tightly his forehead aches. Tom reaches across the gingham blanket to join your fingers together, surprised to feel the clamminess of your skin as you gently squeeze his hand.

You hum. “I’m fine,” you say, voice devoid of any intense emotion. You sigh softly before bringing your eyes to meet Tom’s, and the man feels his heart constrict in his chest. You’re perfect, even with your hair messy from the light spring wind and the nerves that sit across your face. When you squeeze his hand again, and Tom glances down to see the engagement ring on your fourth finger, the ache in his heart sharpens.

He never knew love could be this fulfilling, nor so easy. Breathing is harder than it is to love you.

“Okay,” he replies. “Do you want to go home?”

You’ve been so quiet for the entire date, which is strange because usually, you match his energy effortlessly. Tom has been away for a few weeks doing business in Liverpool, and this date by the river is the first time you’ve been properly alone since he returned. He’d really expected you to enjoy the date—or, on a very basic level, at least look like you want to be here. With your quiet answers, avoidance, and nervous stares, he can’t confidently say that you do.

You shake your head. “No, no.” You fiddle with some of his rings before pulling your hand away from his. As you sit up a little straighter, you turn away from Tom to stare instead at the River Thames.

The river behind you is lit by the mid-afternoon sun and flooded with boats. It’s such a lovely day that Tom almost doesn’t notice the horrible brown tinge to the water. Lining the bank are small groups of people—families, friends, couples, tourists. They all stay clear of the two of you, undoubtedly wary of the security guards lingering near their boss. He rarely goes out so obviously like this, but you’ve always loved London, and he’d wanted to treat you. He’d wanted this to be a nice day.

“You know you can talk to me, don’t you?” he checks, voice catching slightly.

Your eyes snap up to his quickly. “Tom,” you say, voice wrapped endearingly around his name. Moving easily, you slip closer to him, carefully shifting around the food and the glasses until you’re close enough to reach out and touch his cheek. “I love you.”

Tom’s teeth graze his lower lip as he feels you pad your thumb across his jaw. “I know,” he murmurs, dropping his gaze. “I love you too.” He pauses for a few moments, savouring the closeness and the scent of your rosy spritz. He’d missed you so much that it almost hurts to have you so close again. “I know you have something on your mind, darling… Can you tell me what it is? I want to help you.”

“I…” A breathy exhalation follows. You bring your hand away from his cheek and rest it on the red silk material covering his shoulder. He’s in a loose designer shirt, the top two buttons unbuttoned and showing off the silver-linked chain he has hanging from his neck. “Tom, I just…”

“What?”

A small smile twitches at your lips. “Not here,” you seem to decide, voice a little stronger. “I have something I need to show you.”

“At home?”

“Yeah.”

Tom feels the weight rolls from his shoulders. It’s fine—everything is fine. You want to let him in, want to trust him with the cause of your anxieties. You still want him.

“Let’s go, then,” he decides, knowing he’s far too impatient to spend another hour laying by the river. Tom offers you a hand, and you take it. He tugs you away from the picnic setup with ease. He doesn’t need to bother with putting the things away—someone else will do it. Just one of the perks of his job.

“I missed you,” you say, smoothing your thumb over the back of his hand as you walk together towards the car. “It gets lonely without you in the house. Our bed is ridiculously huge without two people in it.”

Tom chuckles. “Good job I’m back now then, eh?”

The noise you release is stacked full of so much relief it makes Tom feel guilty for ever leaving to begin with. As he watches the bright, genuine smile flow across your face when you meet his eyes, he resolves to never leave for business again. Never. Not without you.

“A very good job,” you clarify. When you reach the car together, Tom holds the door open for you, ushering you in dramatically until you’re laughing and making fun of him for fussing. The only way he can stop you from your jovial whines is by leaning across the dashboard and pressing his lips to yours, so really he can’t complain. “This car is stupid, too,” you decide.

“Oh, that’s too fucking far,” Tom murmurs, glancing in the rear mirror as he peels away from the pavement. He’s glad the air between you has lightened. You seem happier now you’ve decided to spill your secrets. He rests his hand on the back of your headrest as he twists in his seat, eyes on the road as he reverses. “This car is a beauty.”

“This car is confusing,” you say, and Tom feels you staring at the flex of his bicep. “I tried driving it when you were gone.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Mmm. Couldn’t even get it up the drive.”

“Well, not to be rude, darling, but it’s hardly fair to blame my beautiful car for the fact that you’re an atrocious driver.”

If looks could kill, Tom knows he’d be six feet under.

“Fuck you, Tom,” you seethe, but your voice is charged with laughter. “I take it back. I didn’t miss you at all. Go back to Liverpool, see if I care.”

Tom cackles. “Maybe I will,” he teases, “just to see how long it takes you to start begging for me to come back again.”

You grumble something incoherent at that, then the words between you lull into a comfortable silence. After a few moments, you shift your palm to rest on his thigh, your hand gentle, warm. Your fingertips trace tiny love hearts over his slacks.

“Don’t,” you say eventually, voice quieter. “Stay this time.”

Tom risks a quick glance to you, growing breathless in the depths of your eyes. “Of course,” he says, voice thick. Tom returns his gaze to the road, his chest feeling tight. “I’m never leaving you again.”

“I mean, you can leave sometimes if you want—”

“No. Never.” Tom’s cheeks ache. “I’m never leaving your side.”

“Alright, Tom.” You sigh lightly, feigning exasperation. “I guess there are worse things than being stuck with you.”

“I’m charmed, darling. So relieved you like spending time with your fiancé.”

You shift in your seat at that, and Tom doesn’t have to look at you to know you’re flustered. You’re always shyer around him when he mentions the fact that your futures are intertwined, almost unbelieving that he’d slipped that ring onto your finger. It doesn’t matter how many times Tom tells you that he cherishes you—you never quite make peace with the fact that he wants to chase the moon with you. That doesn’t mean he’ll stop telling you, though. You hang the stars in his sky.

“I love spending time with you, Tom,” you mumble. “And I hope that what I’m about to tell you doesn’t change how you feel about me.”

His eyebrows raise. “Wait— what?” Tom scrunches the tip of his nose up as he squints in your direction. “Y/N, what—” He pauses, concentrating on keeping his voice level. “Angel, nothing you could ever do would change the way I feel about you. Nothing.”

You smile quietly. “It’s not a bad thing,” you add, almost sensing his unease. “I think you’ll like it.”

“Perfect.” Tom sits a little straighter in his seat. “Then there’s nothing to worry about—”

Sirens cut into his words. Tom startles, glancing in the mirror to see a police car with a whirring blue siren perched atop the grimy vehicle.

“Tom,” you say slowly, voice filling with dread. Your tone sends shivers down his spine. “Did you do something?”

Tom bites his lip.

He’s been trying his best to stay above the law recently, but… Liverpool had been messy. Very messy. He hadn’t intended on things going quite as terribly as they had, but one thing had led to another, and he’d had to fuck a few things up. The crime is nothing as intense as he’s been booked for in the past, but he’d had to write a few irregularities into his taxes and business agreements to smooth over the waters. It’s not as bad as murder, but it’s tax fraud nonetheless.

Tom had thought he’d been fine. Apparently not. He’s been a hot target for the Metropolitan Police for years, and they’ve consistently unearthed every tiny discrepancy he’s tried to get away with. He should’ve been more fucking careful.

“Shit,” Tom mutters. As he brings his eyes back to the road in front of him, he realises the police car behind you has been joined by another two, closing in from side streets and boxing him in amongst the traffic. He swallows thickly. “I messed up.”

You curse. “Idiot,” you mutter. You sit forwards in the seat and start to point to a gap in the traffic, right across the square. “Go there,” you say, voice pitching higher. “If you go fast, you’ll make it.”

He could book it. Tom’s run away before, in situations of peril where the alternative had been the law and escaping would give him the chance to alter some books and clear his name. It would be easy to slam his foot on the accelerator and dive down side streets, dodging the thick London traffic.

“Tom!” you say again, voice stressed with desperation. “Tom, go!”

The gap in the traffic is narrowly closing, the window of time Tom has to zoom through and get to safety shrinking before his very eyes. If he was alone, he’d do it without a second thought, but you’re here.

You’re here, and that means he can’t be selfish. Tom couldn’t ever risk you, not with such a treacherous manoeuvre like the one that you’re suggesting, nor with the repercussions you’d face if he books it. You’d either have to come on the run with him, or you’d end up captured and grilled by the Met, and neither of those options is the types of things he’d ever bring willingly upon you. You would never deserve that, and he refuses to make it a possibility.

Tom slows down the car.

“Tom,” you say, shock filling your voice. “What are you doing? They’ll get you.”

He nods. “I want you to listen to me, very carefully,” he says quickly.

“But—”

“—Darling, please. Please.” Tom stops the car abruptly. He calculates he has mere seconds before the officers ditch their vehicles and start storming across the traffic to haul him from his seat. “Don’t say anything to them. They want me, not you.” He turns off the engine and grabs your hands, holding them close as he stares into your eyes. “Call Harrison. Whatever shit they’re bringing me in for won’t hold up for long. They’ve— they’ve done this before. They never win. We have backup plans for this crap.”

“Tom,” you whisper, eyes welling with tears, “but they—”

“I know. I know, baby. I know.” He presses quick kisses to your knuckles, clinging so tightly to your fingers it’s like he’ll drift away without your touch. “I’m sorry. I am so bloody sorry. I love you so much.”

His throat hurts. The sight of the pain in your eyes makes him hate himself for ever bringing you into this faithless way of life. He doesn’t give a fuck that he’s destined for a cell—Tom cares that he’s hurt you.

“I love you too,” you say. You lean closer, undoing your seatbelt and popping his too as you reach up to cup Tom’s cheeks in your shaky hands. “It’ll be okay,” you stress. “I’ll get you out of there, baby.”

You lean in closer to kiss him, and Tom aches. The scent of your perfume is overwhelming, and he feels fragile beneath the hold you have on his face. The kindness in your eyes makes it hurt even more. It’d be easier if you’d let fury consume you and spend these last sacred moments denouncing him instead of loving him, but of course, you’re not like that.

The car door opens, and Tom is hauled from the car the moment his lips touch yours. Before he can process it, he’s being pushed up against his car, stiff arms keeping him pinned in place. He closes his eyes, firming up his face and shoving down his feelings as he forces himself to dry up, become stoic. He won’t show weakness now he’s outside.

Tom hears you exit the vehicle a few moments later, the crash of the door coupled with a few scuffles. He drowns out the words of the officers whilst they reel off a list of fabricated crimes, smugness evident in their voices. Good for fucking them.

When they eventually release him, he’s cuffed and weaponless, his spirit bent in two. The metal of his car had hurt his face, but nothing breaks Tom’s heart more than the sight of you being held back by two officers, tears streaming down your face. You bring your hands into the shaky outline of a heart, and it’s the last thing he sees before he’s pushed into the back of a van.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Tom’s day goes from bad to worse.

It’s clear that everyone at the station has been waiting for him to fuck up. He’s met with sly smiles and teasing comments as he’s reacquainted with some of his most despised wardens and guards. He’s held in a temporary cell for almost a day and quizzed on the shreds of ‘evidence’ they’d procured from his house during a raid, and though Tom declines to answer every single question they throw at him, their smugness never fades.

He walks into the trial already knowing he’s going to be locked up, and not even the sight of you beside Harrison and Harry on the benches soothes him.

Five years. He’s charged with five years.

Now, Tom isn’t worried. He knows he won’t actually be held in a cell for that long. He’s already had correspondence with Harrison, who’s assured him that he’s working on it, and there’s really nothing much to worry about. Tom has been in this situation twice before, and on both occasions, he’d been released in less than a month. The connections he’s built from his years heading up the mob are reliant and unwavering, and he knows he won’t have to serve even a fifth of his sentence.

The only difference between the times before and now is you, and Tom can only fucking pray that you don’t despise him for dirtying your name with his crimes. You’d been normal before him—a waitress, aspiring painter, an innocent. Despite your insistence that you love him with all strings attached, his guilt weighs him down. He doesn’t give a fuck about the law and whatever twisted loopholes the jury had bought, but he does care about you and what you think of him. That’s the hardest part.

Two weeks pass achingly slowly.

Prison isn’t that bad for Tom. He’s pretty fucking lucky, all things considered. He has friends here—blokes he’d met around town, most of whom are willing to welcome him in. A few of his old guys are locked behind bars with him, unwavering in their loyalty and more than happy to absorb him as members of their group. Those who don’t know Tom know of him. His reputation as a murderous, cold-hearted killer follows him inside, regardless of its falsity. Tom hasn’t taken a life in three years, but these men don’t need to know that.

“Holland! Get the fuck up. You’re in the gym.”

Tom glances up. He’s lying on top of his bed, one hand propped behind his head, the other holding open a book. He isn’t an avid reader like you, but you’d sent him a copy of your favourite book with scribbled annotations in the margins, and he’s been spending every hour since its arrival clinging to the pages.

He sighs as he puts the book down and stands from the lower bunk. He’s in with a young lad, Ollie, booked on a minor drugs charge. Why they’d paired someone on such a minimal sentence with a member of the mob, Tom will never understand, but the fear in the lad’s eyes every time he looks at him is enough to keep his wavering ego bobbing just above the waterline.

“Step away from the door.”

Tom does as instructed. A moment later, there’s a loud buzzer followed by the swinging of the heavy metal door.

In walks Luther, Tom’s archnemesis. If the inmates fear him, the guards despise him, and to be fair, Tom understands why. He’s a bit of a dick when he’s behind bars. Usually, when he’s free, he operates with a level of poise and charm that comes with his position as leader. He speaks to his men with a firm but kind hand, respects everyone he deems his equal and commands supreme authority without becoming a tyrant. However, when he has his freedom stripped away, and he has to bend to fit the system’s will, his attitude becomes… problematic.

“Holland,” Luther barks. A moment later, he appears in the doorway, coughing loudly, cheeks flushed a ruddy red. He snarls at Tom, his voice like jagged glass. “Come on.”

“You alright, mate?” Tom asks. “You sound fucking terrible.” He looks it, too, with a dripping nose and red-rimmed eyes. He looks ill.

Luther’s features sharpen. “Get over here now.”

“Yes, sir.”

Tom swaggers to the door and dodges a little as Luther cuffs him, the man digging the metal into his skin with extra ferocity. They start to march down the long, grey corridor towards the fitness suite, Luther prodding Tom forward with a hand digging into his back.

“How’s your wife?” Tom tries, tired of the echoing footsteps.

Luther sighs. “How’s yours?”

“She’s doing very well, thank you.”

The guard tuts. “Does she like having a criminal for a husband?”

“Does yours like being married to such a wanker— hey!”

Luther pushes him down the corridor with haste. “Quiet, Holland,” he mutters. “I’ve had enough of you.”

“Well, then it’s too bad you’re stuck with me,” Tom replies. “Did you know that if me being here annoys you so much, you could always let me go? That would sort out your problem.”

He barks a laugh. “Yeah? Let London’s most wanted convict escape?”

Tom raises a brow. “London’s most wanted?” he echoes. “Wow.” Pride seeps into his voice. “That’s an accomplishment.”

“Not a positive one. Self-absorbed bastard.”

It’s easy to laugh. Letting the comments bounce off his back is easier than admitting the jibe about you has irked him. Do you like having a criminal for a partner? Even Tom, for all the world has jaded him, knows no sane person would rest well with the knowledge that their significant other has lied, stolen, and killed. It doesn’t lie well with him, and he was born into this.

They reach the gym.

Tom sticks to the same workout regime he has at home. He does his cardio for twenty minutes on the wobbling treadmill, then sits around on the bench press and does curls with a few of the guys. He keeps quiet, his mind loud, only adding a few comments when necessary. His sullenness adds to his image, and he’s busy with thoughts of you. By the time he’s finished, he feels arguably worse than before. The endorphins from his workout are overshadowed by the guilt Tom feels, clawing at his heart, heavy and persistent in its certainty that he’s a lousy partner.

He can handle being a bad guy, but a bad man? A bad brother, bad friend, or bad lover? The opinions of the guards mean nothing to him, and neither does the law, but when it comes to the people he cares about, their opinions mean everything. Tom has let Luther get into his head, and whilst he knows that was the guard’s intention, the seed of doubt has been planted. As he pumps iron, he feels it grow, taking root, blooming taller.

“Holland. Time to go.”

He grunts as he stands. Sweaty and sore, Tom hobbles to the doorway, feeling considerably smaller than he had when he’d left his cell. The cuffs hurt his wrists as his hands are clasped back together, and the walk back feels even longer than before.

“You had a parcel delivered,” Luther says, breaking the silence. “It arrived last week.”

Tom’s eyebrows pull together. “Last week?”

“I thought I should hold it back until you’d settled in,” comes the patronising response. “I didn’t want to overwhelm you with too many new experiences, Thomas. Not that being in here is anything out of the ordinary for you, though.”

He feels his jaw twitch. He flexes his hand, knuckles burning for movement. Not yet, not yet. He has to wait, has to play the long game.

“You’re a dick,” Tom decides. He doesn’t care that he gets thrown roughly into the cell. He trips over the floor and barely manages to scrape himself to his feet, but he throws out a smirking “fuck you,” before the door slams shut. He’d follow it up with more snide remarks, but he becomes distracted by the sight of the parcel sitting on his bed.

It’s neat, despite the obvious intrusion into its contents by the guards. He flops onto his lower bunk, glad his cellmate is absent as it allows him to drop the ruse. Lips sagging into a frown, Tom rips open the package.

He releases a fragile sound as the contents pour across his duvet. Polaroids fall across the sheets, glistening slightly, neat and pristine. A lump comes to the back of his throat as he shuffles through them, finding images of you, Harry, Sam, Tess… The list carries on. For every person he can think of, there’s an image captured perfectly in time. He even appears in a few of them, with his hand around Haz’s shoulder or his lips pressed to your temple.

He finds a note attached at the bottom.

Tom, I thought you’d want some reminders of home while you’re away. We’re all looking forward until the day you can come home to us. Love you forever, Y/N <3

As Tom traces the edge of his nail along the outline of your face, his eyes well with hot tears. You always know what he needs, even when he doesn’t. You know him, inside out, and you’re continuing to support him, despite it all. He is indebted to you, and he knows already that as soon as he’s let out, he’ll spend every second of his life trying to repay that.

The seed of doubt burns away.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Two weeks later, Tom finally gets to see you again.

The prison visiting room is fucking grim. Toned in sludgy shades of grey and brown, it’s about as ugly as it could be. There are window slits pressed high into the walls, but the primary source of light is from the musky bulbs set above each table. The chairs are uncomfortable, and the decor lacks inspiration. Tom often wonders if the room was designed to be as revolting as possible.

Despite this, as Tom shuffles into the room that smells suspiciously of plasticine, he couldn’t be happier. It doesn’t matter that his wrists ache from the cuffs, nor that the garish shade of orange clashes horrendously against his skin: you’re here, and that makes everything better.

You’re sitting at the table in the corner of the room, drumming your fingers pensively over the surface. His eyes catch on the glinting ring wrapped around your fourth finger, and the sense of longing that had settled in the hollowness of his chest is quickly burnt away. Sensing his movements, you glance up, and when your eyes meet with his, Tom feels his heart come home.

You raise a hand in greeting, smiling shyly, and he tries to look as non-threatening as possible. He knows the new buzzcut and the stupid get-up probably don’t help, but you don’t look at him like he’s any different.

As he draws nearer, Tom finds himself blinking a few times, questioning how long you’ve been separated. The version of you he has holed up in his memories pales in comparison to the woman that he sees before him now, but he can’t quite pinpoint why. You seem fuller somehow—vibrant, glowing, alive, your face doused in a heavenly glow and your skin bright with health. Your figure has changed slightly, and Tom can’t stop himself from running his eyes all over you, trying to memorise every tiny detail his memory had blurred away. You look so beautiful, every single part of your form enhanced and bright, and your chest—

Fuck, it’s been a long time.

“Y/N,” he exhales the moment he’s been pushed into his seat. His guard unclasps his cuffs, and Tom immediately reaches out across the table, almost moaning from relief when you wrap your fingers around his. Your skin is so warm.

“Tom,” you whisper. Emotion seeps into your voice, and he feels his chest crack as tears pool in your eyes. “Are you okay? I— I missed you.”

He hums, biting his lip. “I’m fine, baby. I’m okay. Are you?”

You nod quickly. “I’m okay too,” you say. “Things are strange without you, but we’re working around the clock to get you out of here.” You drop your voice slightly. “I think we’re near a breakthrough.”

Tom’s teeth brush his lower lip. “Good, good,” he says. “How’s Tess? And Harry, and the others? Are they looking out for you?”

“Yeah,” you say. You squeeze Tom’s hands tightly. “They’re all okay. Mainly just worried about you.”

He shrugs, trying to lessen the furrow in your brow. “‘M all good, darling,” he promises. “Don’t worry about me.”

Your eyes skate across his face. “I like your hair,” you say gently. For a moment, Tom thinks you’re going to try and reach out to touch the buzzed fuzz, but you seem to remember that anything beyond handholding is prohibited. You have to settle for a slightly suggestive smile. “It looks good on you.”

“Thanks, lovie.”

Your smile is sad but it’s still hopeful. Whatever emotions you’re feeling, it’s clear that you’re trying to smooth them away and keep them to yourself. “There’s something I wanted to tell you,” you say, easing into the words with difficulty. Tom watches as you look away, doubt casting across your face.

“What is it?” Vaguely, Tom remembers how skittish you’d been the day he’d been taken away, the memory distorted from the noise of everything else that had happened. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, yeah.” You bite your lower lip. “Uh, just first… how are you holding up in here? Like, actually. Don’t bullshit me and play the tough guy.” Your eyes are wide and persistent. “How are you actually doing?”

Tom blinks a few times. “Fine,” he shoots immediately. He clenches your fingers tightly in his, clinging on for a moment until he exhales. “I wish I could be here for you properly, though. It worries me that I don’t know what’s happening on the outside…” He hates being left out in the dark, but it isn’t your fault. It’s his. “I wish I could be a better boyfriend to you.”

“Fiancé,” you correct, the word soft like it’d left your mouth without thought. “You’re already a good boyfriend, Tom. I knew what I was signing up for. I wanted this back then, and I still do now.”

“Still,” he grumbles. He tries to even out the heaviness of the conversation with a smile. “I think about you all the time, baby. And the others too, but… mostly you. I just hate that I’m missing out on our life together.” He has to stop for a moment as he recollects his thoughts. “I’m sorry that I did this to us, and I’m sorry I let you down.”

You crack a wry smile. “You can’t change the past, Tom. You can only affect the future.” You pause, your expression hardening. “I need to know that you’ll go slower when you get out. I know this is your life, but some things need to change. We— I need you to stay out of trouble. Do you understand?”

He nods his head immediately. “Of course, of course. I don’t ever want to get arrested again, darling.”

You drop your voice. “I’m not saying you need to quit everything, just… get better safeguards and be smarter. I love who you are, Tom, but this…” You break off to gesture around, pointing vaguely at his cuffs, the jumpsuit, and the guards. “This isn’t good for you or for me. And I love you, but I won’t stay if you don’t try.”

It’s hard to hear, but he knows it’s what he deserves to hear. He knows you deserve to stand your ground.

“I know,” Tom says gently. “I’ll get clean when I’m out, Y/N. I promise. I’ll be a good man by you.”

You squeeze his fingers tighter. “You already are,” you promise, “and I love you so much, even when you’re being an idiot.”

He laughs breathlessly. “Thank you, darling.” Tom tilts his head to the side. “What was it you wanted to say?”

Conflict briefly colours your face, manifesting itself in the arch of your eyebrow and the biting of your lower lip. You inhale sharply, only to exhale again a moment later.

“I’ll tell you when you’re out,” you say softly.

Tom scowls. There’s no anger there, just confusion. “What are you talking about? What’s going on?”

You shake your head. “I… Pretend I never said anything,” you say. You follow it up with a quick, “if I thought you needed to know, I’d tell you.”

He doesn’t want to push it, so Tom lets the topic slip away. You sit together silently for a few minutes. It’s hard to talk, difficult to express how much he misses you, how much he’s sorry. He knows that you understand—you always do, and you have similar tears wobbling across your eyes. Talking can come afterwards when he’s out and he’s free. All he needs now is the feeling of your hand back in his.

The visit is over far too soon.

Leaving you is difficult. Tom isn’t allowed to hug you or go any nearer than the linked hands on the table, but you tug at his fingers until he feels the imprint of your engagement ring rubbing against his skin. He even manages to kiss your knuckles a few times before he’s pulled up from the table and cuffed again.

“Be on your best behaviour,” you say, soft with your parting words. “The lawyer says the better you are, the easier it’ll be to get you out early.”

Tom has a bit of his spark back. Even as he’s pulled back, he manages a devious smirk. “When am I ever not on my best behaviour, darling?”

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

A few days later, Tom snaps.

To be fair, it isn’t really his fault. He’s pushed to the very verge of insanity, prodded at and provoked beyond the point of return.

It happens when he’s in the barber, huddled in the back corner of the room as he gets a new tattoo. Tom is used to the pain of the burning needles as he already has a few pieces on his arms and his hands, so he’s able to take the fresh marks to his knuckles as the ink stains black against his skin. However, he’s a bit on edge from the sharp buzzing, which is perhaps why he responds so negatively to the taunting he starts to receive. It comes from Toni and the rest of his snivelling gang. They’re all members of the East London mob, ruled over by Tom’s nemesis Gordy. Most of the time, they stick to their side and Tom sticks to his, but they’ve caught him in a vulnerable position, and Toni never seems to know how to pick his timing.

It’s basic teasing, instilled with a brutal hard edge that would phase him if Tom cared enough about their opinions of him. It doesn’t hurt him when people attack his character or his honour—Tom knows the truth about his life, and he couldn’t give two shits about an outsider’s opinion of him. However, he finds it a lot harder to grin and bear it when the man changes angle.

“Word is, a couple of our guys saw your missus out with Haz the other day,” Toni taunts. “He said they were getting real close if you know what I mean.”

Tom’s jaw flexes. The action is minute, but it doesn’t go undetected. Toni smirks.

“Eh, you don’t like that, do you?” The man steps a little closer and Tom tries to ignore him by looking down at the needle pressing into his fingers. “Don’t like the idea of your best friend hanging around your wife. Can you even trust them?” He breaks off, laughing coolly. “They think you’re so stupid, did you know that? You’ll get out of here, and they’ll have cut you out of everything—”

“Shut the fuck up,” Tom murmurs. He flexes his right hand, shaking out his knuckles. With every passing day, he’s felt tetchier. He can feel his anger burning, churning deep within his stomach, growing brighter, harder. He knows he shouldn’t lean into it, but… He wants to. He craves that rush of the fight, selfishly so.

“But she’s not your wife, is she? You aren’t actually married. Have you ever thought that maybe she’s just using you? Maybe they all are? Look at you, Tom.” Toni breaks off to throw a disdainful hand in Tom’s direction. “You are so weak in here… How are any of your guys going to respect you when their leader can’t even stay out the slammer?”

The guy tattooing Tom’s hand finally pulls away, glancing up at him with knowing in his eyes. “You’re done,” he says. “Don’t do anything with that hand, though.”

“Thanks, man.”

Tom stands up, Toni mirroring him. The man looms in front of him, 6’2 and stocky. He’s larger than Tom in every respect, but he’ll never be the bigger man.

“Get out of my way,” Tom sneers.

“Make me, twat.” Toni smirks. “Or are you too much of a pussy to follow through on that as well?”

Tom sees red. Acting on the edge of adrenaline, he pounces, rushing the man and jumping with so much unexpected force that the larger man goes tumbling to the floor. Tom hears the shouts of the guards, but they pale in comparison to his need to straddle the man’s chest and make him pay. With each meeting of his fist with Toni’s face, Tom feels better. He’s never been an excessively violent person, but old habits die hard, and it’s so, so, so fucking easy to pummel the guy who dared breath an uncomplimentary word in his family’s direction. Tom would put the whole city six feet under if they so much as breathed wrong around his loved ones, so really, Toni had it coming.

The prison guards don’t agree.

He ends up in solitary, and when he’s put back into the normal population, Tom is given restrictions. He isn’t allowed visitors for a fortnight, and his calls are reduced to once a week. All other privileges he’d had are taken away again, and he’s relegated to the very bottom of the pecking order.

It’s still worth it.

When he’s finally allowed visitors again, Tom is surprised to learn that his next meeting isn’t with you or his lawyer. Things only make sense when he shuffles into the meeting room and sees his right-hand man settled in the corner, and if Tom had found the room drab before, it appears even more depressing with the addition of the blond man sitting in it. Harrison sucks the life from the room, any hints of happiness at being reunited with his friend overshadowed by the pinched expression on his face.

The guards don’t let Tom take off his cuffs. He has to sidle into the chair, falling into the heavy silence as he places his hands on the table. Metal links click, and Harrison just stares. He stares, and stares, and stares, his blue eyes almost black.

“So,” Tom eventually says. “Hello.”

Harrison’s jaw twitches. He brings his hands to rest on the top of the table, flexing them as he takes a moment to find the right words. “Tom,” he says, speaking very slowly. “You are a twat.”

He blinks. “Wow,” Tom mutters, chuckling slightly. “Okay. Good to see you too, mate.”

“Do you…” Harrison breaks off, groaning. His forehead develops angry ripples. “Do you understand how detrimental this has been to your case?”

Tom bites his lip, shaking his head slightly.

“You’ve been pushed to the bottom of the pile,” Harrison says, voice controlled but simmering with unspoken anger. “We were about to get your appeal passed for early release.” He sits back, crossing his arms as he shakes his head. “There’s been a penalty applied due to your stint in solitary. Your case won’t be assessed until it’s lifted.”

Tom feels his stomach drop. “Shit,” he mutters. “That’s not ideal.”

“No. No, it’s not.” Harrison sits forward, leaning on his hands. “You are a bloody idiot. Stop acting like a child… Why… Why did you even attack him? You must have known this would happen. Are you stupid?”

He doesn’t like the patronisation in his tone. Tom’s already beat himself up enough about this in solitary. He doesn’t need Harrison questioning his judgements, doesn’t appreciate his friend breathing down his neck so obviously.

“He deserved it,” Tom says firmly. “I would do it again.”

“You can’t. You absolutely cannot.”

“I think you’ll find that I can, Harrison.” There’s a stupid smirk on his lips now. Tom’s missed being a little shit to his friends. He knows it’s not the time, but he’s vibrating. The callous concoction of shame, anger and isolation make him volatile and abrasive. “I’m pretty sure I can do whatever the fuck I want, actually.”

The expression that mars Harrison’s face looks very out of place against his demeanour. The man is in a long black trench coat with a tight grey turtleneck layered beneath it. He has a few pendants hanging from his neck, the gold metal bringing out the warm tones in his curls, mussed in a way that screams of old charm and perfect romance. Harrison’s illusion of control falters only under the pressure of the anger that manifests itself so clearly on his face.

“Tom.” Harrison bangs his fist on the table. The ring wrapped around his pinky clangs against the wood. “You can’t keep this up. If you do, the case gets pushed further, and that is unacceptable.”

Tom scowls. “Well, Haz, last time I checked, I was the one who has to deal with the consequences of my actions. Not you.” He can’t stand the expression of condescension hanging over Harrison’s face. “If I want to throw a few punches, I bloody well will. You have no idea what it’s like in here. No idea at all.”

Harrison’s angered expression fades a little, but only for a moment. When Tom hardens the curve of his eyebrow, Harrison devolves into irritation again, almost snarling as he narrows his eyes. “Your actions affect everyone in your life,” he snaps. “Stop pretending you’re the only one paying for the things that you’ve done.”

“I’m the one with the cuffs, Harrison. I’d say I’m paying considerably more than anyone else.”

He shakes his head. “Yeah? Tell that to the men who had their property searched and their possessions seized. Tell that to your family, who continue to be pulled in for questioning. Tell that to Y/N, who—” he breaks off awfully quickly, cheeks flushing slightly. “Nevermind.”

Tom’s blood goes cold. “Y/N?” he repeats sharply. “What about Y/N?”

“Nothing.”

He sits up straighter. “What about Y/N, Harrison?”

“Nothing.”

Tom is angry now. “Tell me right now or god help me, I will find a way to kill you.”

Harrison rolls his eyes, then covers the movement with a sigh. “I can’t. It isn’t my place.” He seems regretful as he jumps in to add, “she’s fine. She just needs you. We all do.”

The guilt returns. It falls over Tom like a wet blanket, extinguishing his frustration and leaving him cold. “Does she… Does she hate me?” He’s looking down at his cuffs.

“What— no. No, Tom.” Harrison looks guilty for the first time, but at least he isn’t confirming Tom’s deepest insecurities. “Nothing like that at all. Just… Listen to me, alright? You need to behave. I know it’s hard in here, I know that, and I understand it must be frustrating. You just… You can’t let that rule you, Tom. You have to look at the bigger picture. You need to come home, and the sooner the better.”

It’s easier said than done, but he knows Harrison is earnest with it.

“Fine,” Tom grumbles. “I’ll behave.”

Harrison nods. “Thanks, mate,” he mutters. “We all miss you, myself included.” He glances up at him, eyes finally back to the cool blue tones Tom grew up beside. “It isn’t the same without you around.”

Tom manages a tight smile. “I miss you too.”

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

IT’S BEEN THREE MONTHS since Tom was taken away, and you are miserable.

Every day has been the same. You wake up, nauseous and alone, always on Tom’s side of the bed despite forcing yourself to fall asleep on your own. The mornings are a blur of paperwork and phone calls that follow you into the afternoon. You work around the clock, Harrison, Harry and Sam at your side as you go over Tom’s case, again and again, only stopping when night falls, and one of you throws in the towel.

You had been so close to springing him until he’d gone and got himself demoted to solitary, and there’s not a morning that you don’t think about that. You’d submitted the appeal, stacked full of so much evidence that there was no way the judge would deny him freedom, only for Tom to get into a fistfight the day before the hearing. Just like that, the floor had vanished from beneath your feet.

You’d taken it badly, the others too. Losing Tom to the judge’s gavel had been hard enough, but for his escape to be taken away by his own actions hurt a thousand times worse. You know it’s worse for him, being alone in a cell, but that doesn’t stop the bitterness seeping into your mouth every time you think about the lost chance. Harry and Sam had been incensed, their anger fuelled by the void of a missing brother, and you know Harrison’s frustration comes from similar veins.

Even now that Tom’s served his time in solitary, the frustration lingers on, manifesting itself in the way none of you could decide who should go and visit him first. Under normal conditions, you would’ve been there in a heartbeat, but… Things have been complicated, even without recent events, more so than they’d been when you’d visited two months ago. When Harrison had bitten the bullet and volunteered himself, all of you had been more than happy to let him go.

He’d left this morning, and the house has been quiet ever since.

You’re sitting up in one of the spare rooms as you wait for Harrison to return, your back aching and your mind spinning. You twirl the rings on your fingers as you think, taking turns alternating between your engagement ring and the silver signet rings you’d taken from Tom’s dresser. Keeping him close makes everything easier. You’d take any reminder of him you could get, be that his rings, his shirts, his cologne, or…

The baby.

You shift a hand down to sit on the swell of your belly. Tears prick your eyes as you let them close, a frustrated sigh tumbling past your lips.

You’re four months pregnant, and that throws a spanner in the works.

Sure, you would’ve tried equally as hard to get Tom released under normal conditions, but the biological countdown that has now been sprinkled into the mix has only given everything an air of desperation. Even if it isn’t you vocalising what everyone else is thinking, the fervour to get Tom out before it’s too late is there. You can see it in the way Harrison never lets you go anywhere unaccompanied, and Harry and Sam have been working nonstop to get their brother’s freedom. Everyone around you is aware of how vital Tom’s release is, even when the man himself remains oblivious.

Exhaling gently, you shift around on the cosy armchair. The nursery smells of fading paint, and as you move around, you glance at the messy borders of the walls. The sex of your baby is still a mystery to you, but a few days ago, the twins had freshened up the room with a shade of light green whilst you and Harrison were in court. Neither of them is particularly artistically inclined, but they’d done a pretty decent job, all things considered.

Tom’s family have all been good to you—very kind. You haven’t felt alone, even with half your heart locked away in the outskirts of London. It just hasn’t been the idyllic pregnancy you’d dreamt about with your fiancé.

Guilt falls across you as you look down at the rising swell of your belly.

It’s been hard trying to decide whether or not to tell Tom what you’d tried to come clean about three months ago, down by the Thames. You’d wanted to tell him when you’d gone to visit him, but you couldn’t find the heart to come clean and admit that he’s missing out on the one thing he’s waited for his entire life. Telling him would hurt him immensely, and he’s already hurting being away from you. You don’t want to tell him until he can be part of it, and with that uncertainty present, you’ve kept your lips sealed.

Visiting him today in place of Harrison is all you really wanted to do, but you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. You’re vulnerable and explosive, and you want to come clean to Tom when the situation is better. There would be nothing worse than storming into that dingy meeting room, flaunting your obvious pregnancy but being too distracted by your anger at your fiancé to explain everything else. You won’t hurt him like that by taunting him with the one thing he wants but can’t have. You refuse to.

All you can do is hope that he forgives you for holding the information back, pray that he understands your motivations, and, above all, hold onto the hope that he’s there when your child comes into the world.

“Y/N? Where are you?”

Blinking yourself from your reverie, you look up through the open door.

“In here, Sam.”

A moment later, Tom’s younger brother appears in the doorway. The man looks as exhausted as you feel, deep shadows hanging beneath his hazel eyes. When he sees you, his mouth pulls into a small smile and he lifts his hand in greeting, and you can tell that he’s trying. You try to match him by sitting up a little straighter and smiling back.

“Hey,” he says. “I was just… bored, I guess. Thought I’d come and check on you.” Doubt briefly flickers across his face. “Is that okay? Are you busy?”

“I’m bored too,” you admit. You stand from the armchair and groan as you stretch your arms, your stiff back aching. “Do you want to do something?”

Sam grins. “Fuck yeah,” he says. “Can we try the mural?”

Wincing, you manage a smile. “Okay… But if it looks terrible, I will paint over it.”

“As if. I’m the artistic one here, Y/N. Just be glad Harry’s still away.”

“Did someone mention me?” Harry’s voice rings through the air, startling you. With a hand clutching your heart, you look to your side in time to see Sam’s twin taking his place at your side. Where Sam is in a shirt and tie, Harry is clad in a pair of deep denim dungarees. He offers you a rusty smile. “We’re just filling in these lines, yeah?”

Sam’s the one to nod. He gestures at the wall and you notice the faint outlines, scratched in pencil. “Be precise,” he informs, “it took me bloody ages sketching it.”

Harry rolls his eyes, shooting you a silent smirk. “Yes, sir,” he mutters. “Anything you want, sir.”

“Fuck off.”

Harry pulls a face. “Well,” he says, looking at you pointedly, “I hope you’re keeping a record of how many times Sam is swearing around the baby, Y/N.”

Brows furrowing, you pick up a paintbrush. “Why would I be doing that?”

The ginger grins. “Just betters my case for being the better uncle,” he says.

“Oh, what? Don’t you mean the boring uncle?” Sam chides, bristling beside you.

Harry laughs. “I will be the favourite uncle. I don’t care what you say, Sammy. Both of us know it.”

Rolling your eyes at the argument you’ve heard a thousand times before, you give them both a nudge. “Shh,” you plead. “Paint, don’t fight.”

Sam shoots you a soft smile. “Yes, ma’am.”

With a smile lingering on your lips, you watch as Harry puts on one of his playlists, then relax as the three of you get to work. None of you say anything, but the air is full enough—tickled to life with Sam’s quiet whistling and the sound of paintbrushes thick against the wall. You concentrate on the intricate details of the mural, like the outlines of the clouds and the spirals of the grass, and marvel at how wonderful it is to be so content in silence. It’s indicative of how tight your bond has grown, you think.

No longer despising solitude, you’ve found a comfortable middle ground around the men. You and Tom’s inner circle have learned to work together well, stringing together complex case files as you’ve organised accounts. Nothing you’ve been doing recently is legal, but you would’ve left a long time ago if you genuinely cared about the law. You can stomach a few fixed accounts if it means Tom gets to walk free—you can stomach a whole lot more than that, actually, for Tom. You’d set the whole world on fire just to see him smile.

Like the splotchy mural covering the walls, your team has got the job done. Your case for the court is watertight, if a little messy, but you know it’ll be enough to spring Tom. It has to be. You need him, and your child needs him. Everyone in the house needs him.

“Guys? Where are you?” Harrison’s voice joins the mix just as you’re stretching up to flick a few rays of gold into the sun. Harry is at your feet, crouching on the balls of his feet as he tries to paint a few red flowers to the sprigs of grass.

“Nursery,” Harry calls out.

A few moments later, Harrison joins you. You fail to meet his eyes as the focused man sweeps into the room, billowing coat swirling around his feet. His expression is terse as he jerks off his jacket and grabs a paintbrush, dipping the tip in a bit of sky blue paint before standing at the end. You don’t rush him. He’s vibrating with something, his face flushed and his eyes dark, so you give him space.

A few minutes pass, illustrated by Harry’s playlist and the colours of the rainbow. Just when you’re beginning to worry, Harrison speaks.

“Tom is an idiot,” he states, drawing a laugh from one of the twins.

You bite your lip. “Did you explain?” you ask.

Harrison nods. He glances at you, and you note the fleck of purple paint pressed into the pale arc of his cheek. “He said he wouldn’t do it again,” he tells you. “He was angry, though. I think he’s having a bad time.”

Harry hums. “It’s hard in there,” he mumbles. “Was he still himself?”

The blond nods. “Yeah,” he says. “As snarky as ever.”

Sam smirks. “That’s Tom, alright.”

“Good news, though,” Harrison adds. “I went to the courthouse on my way back.”

“Oh?” You look away from your cloud, your heart skipping a beat. “And?”

“And,” Harrison continues, a semblance of a smile twitching across his lips, “I submitted the appeal again. They said they’d probably process it next week. So, if things go according to plan this time, he might be out by next Friday.”

You almost drop your paintbrush. Eyes widening, you turn to face him properly. “Wait, really?”

Harrison’s expression softens. “Yeah.” He puts his paintbrush down, tugging yours from your fingers as if he can tell you’re close to dropping it. “He’s almost out, Y/N.”

Relief spills across you, uncontrollable and overwhelming. Closing your eyes before those easy tears can fall down your cheeks, you step closer and push your way into Harrison’s embrace. He’s ready and waiting for the action, eager to comfort his friend.

“Thank you,” you whisper. Harrison’s chest is warm, and though his hugs aren’t as good as Tom’s, you’ve come to rely on them. You’ve come to rely on all of them. “That’s amazing news.”

“Mhmm.” He squeezes you. “This nightmare is almost over.”

“Thanks, man,” Harry speaks up. You pull away from Harrison’s hold when you hear the quivering tones in his voice, quickly glancing to the man to find him glassy-eyed and flushed. Biting your lip, you extend a hand towards him.

A group hug unfolds, as it’s had the tendency to do since Tom was taken away. The first time had been stoic and cool, with frozen elbows and embarrassed shuffling, but slowly, each one of them has loosened. They’re tough men, burdened and hard, but love ties them to you, and at your request, you know they’d do anything for you. You also know that they all enjoy the physical comfort more than they’d ever let on.

It’s been hard without Tom, and you’d do anything to have him back, but if there’s anything his absence has taught you, it’s that his brothers have become your brothers as his best friend has become your own, and you’ve never really been alone.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Tom’s release day comes quickly, hidden behind the retrial and the quick-paced days in court. It’s busy at the trial, and spaces are limited, so Harry and Sam attend in place of you and Harrison. You get them to take in a few letters for Tom and pass on your condolences for your absence, but you don’t allow yourself to get too hung up on it. When Tom’s release is announced, the weight that rolls from your shoulders is immediate.

As you wait outside the prison, you try to find solace in the rays of the mid-afternoon sun. It’s quiet in the car park, allowing you to ruminate in peace, and though you’re comfortable resting against the bonnet of Tom’s car, your thoughts are far from restful.

Anxiety weighs heavily in your chest, mixing with your excitement and creating a volatile concoction. You find yourself pacing, biting back your nerves as you try to reason with yourself. Draped around your shoulders is a long coat that obscures your bump, chosen as you’ve decided you don’t want to overwhelm Tom with too many things at once. You hope it does the job. The coat twitches in the wind as you walk, noisy and obnoxious.

Things around you are still until there’s a sudden, loud buzzing noise from the prison compound. You jerk your head around to see two men leaving the main building, small in the distance but gradually growing larger. They’re still enclosed in the fenced courtyard, but they’re on their way to the exit, and every rational thought you have flies from your mind as you see him. Tom. Your Tom.

He’s in the clothes he’d been arrested in—red shirt, black slacks, shiny shoes. Looped around his hands is his Rolex and his rings. Tom seems almost identical to how he’d been on that cursed day, just his head is buzzed and he looks a little smaller. He’s carrying himself with confidence, though, and when he looks fervently around the car park and spots you, his entire face swells with happiness. The sight of that large, lovely smile hanging from his lips brings immediate warmth to your eyes.

Every breath is easier now you have him in your sights. Overwhelming love gluts your insides, warm and emotive, choking you up. It takes everything in you to stay still as you wait for Tom to finish talking with his guard, a tall man you recognise from all of his stories, Luther. Tom’s smirking in a way that’s obviously infuriating, and the guard doesn’t hesitate to give him a light punch as your boyfriend saunters out of prison, leaving the compound with a swagger to his stride and a smile the size of Saturn.

The sight of Tom jogging towards you breaks you from your reverie, and you push yourself away from the car to meet him somewhere in the middle. Nothing matters until you’re colliding with his front, finding warmth in his arms, feeling his entire body shake as his tears fall into your hair. Nothing matters unless it’s him.

“I missed you so much,” you whisper. Your grip on the back of Tom’s shirt is hard, a violent sprawling across your knuckles, but you won’t let go. You’re giddy with love. “Fuck, Tom, I missed you so, so much.”

You pull away from his chest and look into his eyes, your lower lip wobbling as you note the fresh tears on his face. You use your thumbs to brush beneath his cheeks, flicking away the tears as you clean up his handsomeness.

“I missed you so much more,” he promises. Tom brings a hand to rest on the back of your head, breath hitching as he meets your eyes. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

He kisses you, and it’s so intense you end up pressed against the side of the car. Tom moans with relief as he strokes his fingers over the side of your face, delicately reacquainting his lips with yours as they meet again and again. You keep your hands gliding over his back, his arms, his shoulders, letting your tongues come together as tears flow down your cheeks. The kiss is everything and nothing, familiar and new. The kiss says I missed you. It says I thought about you every day. It says I would wait a thousand dawns if it meant I got to wake up beside you again, but thank fucking god you’re here right now because I missed you more than I ever thought was possible.

“Baby,” Tom murmurs. He pulls away but keeps your foreheads pressed together, the cool tip of his nose brushing yours. “You’re so perfect. I missed you so much that it hurt me.”

He tries to move closer, but you become aware of the pressure to your belly, so bring a gentle hand to push his shoulder away. Hurt immediately floods to his eyes, his expression twitching as Tom takes a few steps back.

“Tom,” you say, voice soft. “I need to tell you something.”

Tom’s jaw twitches. “What is it?” he whispers.

“A good thing,” you clarify. You reach up to wipe the residue of your tears away, then bring your hands down to the tie of your jacket. Biting your lip, you take a steadying breath. “I hope you aren’t angry that I didn’t tell you sooner,” you preface, “but I did it for you.”

Tom nods intensely. “Okay,” he says. “It’s okay. Whatever it is, it’s fine. I’m… I’m here, okay? For anything. It’s me and you. Just… me and you forever.”

A smile flickers across your face. “Me and you, and…” You gently open the front of your coat, then reach out for Tom’s hands. Guiding them slowly, you bring the warmth of his palms to rest on the rise of your bump.

“Wait…” Tom shifts his hands around your belly before staring up at you, slack-jawed. He doesn’t try to hide the obvious tears in his eyes. “You’re…?”

Nodding your head is easier than trying to speak.

“Oh god.” Tom sniffles. “What?” He immediately drops to his knees in front of you, his fancy dress trousers getting dirty in the dust. “How— how far along?”

“Almost five months,” you whisper. “I found out right before you got back from Liverpool. I was going to tell you when we went on that date, but…”

“But I fucked up.” Tom sounds wrecked, his aching eyes fixed on the curve of your belly. “I fucked everything up. I… I left you alone for this entire time, and you had to do this all without me.” He rests his forehead against your bump, very, very gently, and you see him close his eyes. “I am a terrible partner.”

Rolling your fingers over the scruff of his hair, you guide him up to look at you. It’s second nature as you roll a thumb over his cheekbone, trying to instil the action with love and reassurance.

“I’m not angry,” you tell him. “You didn’t know, and you didn’t get arrested on purpose. If anything, you should be angry at me for keeping this a secret.” Your teeth catch your lower lip. “I didn’t want to hurt you, but I thought telling you would only make things worse. I’m sorry.”

Tom shakes his head. “No, no. Don’t apologise.” He rests a hand on your leg, the other still on the curve of your front. “I’m sorry.” He drops his voice and looks at the bump. “And I’m sorry to you too, little one.” He nudges his mouth forward and deposits a soft kiss to your stomach. “I love you too.”

Digging one of your hands into your coat pocket, you pull out a photo. “Here,” you urge, handing it to your boyfriend. Tom takes it after a moment, his eyes slow to move away from your front.

He releases a noise somewhere between an exclamation and a choke, nimble fingers gripping the image from your ultrasound. His cheeks flush a brilliant rose.

“When was this?” he whispers.

“At three months,” you reply. You continue to run your hand over the top of his head, trying to soothe him as he absorbs so much information at once. “I went with my mum and Haz.”

“Haz?”

You nod. “Harry and Sam lost a bet.”

Tom hums. He looks between the photo and your bump, then nudges forward to kiss the rise again. His lips are so warm you can feel them through the material of your dress. “Have they been looking after you well enough?”

A light laugh slips past your lips. “Yeah,” you promise. “They helped so much, Tom. It was hard at first… Really hard. Especially when we thought you’d be in there for five years, but… Things worked out.” You have to pause to gather your thoughts. “We converted one of the rooms into a nursery. There’s still stuff left to do, and we can do that together, of course, but… They were all really helpful.”

“Good.” Tom looks up at you, still kneeling, and your hand slips down to cup his face. “I’m sorry,” he adds. “I wish I could’ve been here for all of this.”

Shrugging gently, you squeeze his face. “You can be here for the rest of it,” you promise. “And, I guess… If we have another one, you’ll be there for all of that, right?”

“Of course, darling.” You smile as Tom tilts his lips to knock against the side of your palm.

“So it’s okay.”

“Are you sure?”

Chuckling softly, you nod. “Yes,” you promise. “I love you, and I’m so happy this has happened for us, even if the timing was difficult.” Feeling yourself well up, you exhale slowly. “We’re going to be parents, Tom. Isn’t that crazy?”

“It’s brilliant.” Tom’s eyes sparkle. “I’m going to be a father.” He blinks. “What the fuck.”

Laughing, you move your hands to the crown of his head. “Yeah, it’ll take a while to get used to that.”

“I’ll get there,” he states. Tom returns his attention to the bump. “Hey, little one,” he coos, voice all silk and amber tones, “it’s going to be the biggest honour of my life being your dad.”

Tom spends a while at your feet, speaking softly to you and your bump, and you keep your hand resting on the back of his head. He’s weary when he finally climbs to his feet but regains some of that spark when you step forward to kiss him. You don’t mean to make it as heated as you do, but it hasn’t only been your heart that’s missed Tom. You’ve craved him, constantly, during every single lonely night, and now that he’s here, you’re willing to take everything you can get.

“I love you,” you say, hushed against his mouth.

Tom’s teeth brush over your lower lip, and you moan when he tugs. There’s a fervour to it, hot lust burning through sensitive emotions. He releases your lip and pulls back to stare at you, his eyes rippling darker.

“I love you too,” he murmurs. He brings his hands to your waist, pulling you closer. “I love everything about you.”

Your mouths come back together, and it’s messier than before, your lips wettening as your kisses become wilder. Tongues dance and teeth clash as your body temperature starts to rise. Now you’ve moved through the emotional reunion, you’re left with an underlying pulse—a heat throbbing persistently between your legs. The fire builds as you hear Tom’s grunts and feel the desperation in his hands when they grab at your sides and jerk you closer, his mouth devouring yours until your lips are puffy and tender. You’re greedy, chasing more, desiring everything you’ve missed out on in the months you’ve been apart from your lover.

“Darling,” Tom murmurs, breaking the kiss to whisper hotly against your lips, “I missed you, but if you keep this up, we’re not going to get home.”

Desire takes hold of you. “Who said I wanted to go home?” You push in closer, shifting slightly until you’re able to feel the hardness of his crotch pressing up against your thigh. The familiarity of it all makes you inhale sharply. You drop your tone, trying to seem coy as you speak, “I don’t think you understand how badly I needed you whilst you were away, Tom. I missed you.”

The tips of his teeth glint as he arches his brows. “Well…” Tom mumbles. “I owe you about four months of lost opportunities.” He swallows, briefly breaking from the lust-filled headspace to look guilty. You smooth it away by reaching down to squeeze at his hands. “If my radiantly stunning fiancé decides she wants me to start repenting for that now, then who am I to stop her?”

Rolling your eyes, you step away from the car. “You’re a suck-up,” you taunt. You plant a light kiss to his lips. “C’mon,” you urge. “The car.”

He wiggles his eyebrows. “The backseat?” he teases. “Shit, angel. You must be desperate.”

Warmth tickles your face. “Shut up.”

Tom smirks deviously. “It’s okay,” he soothes. He darts forward to open the car door for you, resting his hand on your lower back as you step forward. “I’m just as desperate as you, baby.”

“I hate you,” you murmur. Tom follows you into the car, shutting the door behind you both. You wait for him to sit before straddling his lap, your legs stretching until you have a shin planted on either side of his thighs. The position is comfortable, with enough space between your bump and his chest for you to breath, and you whimper as Tom bends nearer to ghost his lips over yours.

“No, you don’t,” he murmurs.

You want to tease him, but you couldn’t even if you wanted to. You’re alright with too much adoration to even think about pressing it down.

“I really don’t,” you agree.

Tom makes a soft noise of vindication, the tip of his nose brushing yours for just a moment until he’s bearing down and bringing your lips together. You sigh, reaching up and urging him closer. His lips are lovely, and you enjoy kissing them for a while, but then you find yourself distracted by the open expanse of his neck. With his hair buzzed, you’re keenly aware of his throat, pale and sensitive, and if there’s one thing you remember about your boyfriend, it’s his affinity for lovebites.

You bring your lips to the side of his neck, nuzzling your mouth against the long, pale stretch of his throat. Smirking against his skin, you start to suckle deep hickeys against the side of his neck, revelling in the throaty gasps Tom deposits into the air in response.

“Fuck, darling,” Tom whines. He has a hand on your back, urging you closer. When you graze the tips of your teeth against his skin, he whimpers. “Shit. More.”

“More?” you tease. “Forgotten all your manners, Tom?”

He growls. The hand on your back shifts to the back of your head, and he jerks you ever closer. He’s still mindful, especially of the bump laying between you, but he knows just as well as you that you aren’t a piece of porcelain; you like being tugged around. You’ve missed it.

“Give me what I want, and maybe I’ll return the favour.” He says it like you’re oblivious to the desperation in his words. You decide to oblige him.

“Okay,” you murmur. You look up to meet his gaze, his honey-brown eyes full of appreciation. For a moment, it knocks you off balance. It’s so strange readjusting to having Tom back—almost overwhelming to be able to touch someone who had existed only in your memories for so many weeks. You drop your head and give him what he wants.

Tom’s skin tastes clean, and it smells distantly of pinecones. He groans, fisting at your hair and holding you close as you kiss and suck along his skin, drawing deep hues to the surface of his neck. He shifts in his seat, basking in the pain and whining every time you soothe a fresh mark with the warmth of your tongue. You keep your hand resting on his hair, the cropped length of his buzz prickly and coarse beneath the pads of your fingertips.

“Oh god yeah,” he murmurs, voice mingling with the wet noises coming from your lips. “Your mouth is so fucking good, baby. I missed it.” Grunting, he brings a hand to your waist, squeezing the flesh of your hips hard. “I thought about you all the time in there.”

Tom releases his hold on your hair and begins to stroke his hands over your back. As you continue to mark his neck, he starts to tease you, gradually dropping the heat of his palms lower and lower. You can’t stop yourself from bucking down into his hold, moaning against his neck as he grabs handfuls of your ass.

“Tom,” you break off to whimper, panting softly. You feel dizzy on the taste of his skin. “You’re being mean.”

“Mean?” you can hear the smirk in his voice. “How am I being mean?” Tom squeezes the curves of your figure, his slender fingers warm against your skin. You’re in a dress, the material thin, and he doesn’t hesitate to curve his hands beneath the hem and bring them to rest over your panties. “You’re the one who wanted to come in here and get your hands all over me… I’m doing what you asked.” He breaks off, chuckling darkly. “That’s not how things usually work, though, is it?”

The air between you shifts.

You pull away from Tom’s neck, your mouth inflamed and throbbing. You have to dig your teeth into your lower lip to muffle your whimper when Tom brings a hand to the front of your legs, gently brushing two of his long fingers over the front of your panties. He’s teasing with it, eyes alight with deviousness, jaw set in a determined line.

“I don’t know,” you whisper. “Maybe I want to be in charge this time.”

Tom laughs gently. “Oh, yeah?” He rubs your cunt a little faster, causing you to suck in a sharp breath as you feel the delicate pressure on your clit. The contact makes your passage clench, growing wet enough to dampen the front of your panties. “So you don’t like this, hmm? You don’t want me to follow through on everything I have planned for you?”

“What have you got planned?”

He tuts. “Oh, I’m not going to tell you, angel. That’d be too easy. Either you want me to be in charge, or you decide to call the shots.” Tom smirks as he feels you buck down against his hand. Maybe if the circumstances were different, you’d find the strength to push back, but you don’t. It’s been so long, and your cunt is weeping already just from the husky tones in his voice.

“You’re in charge,” you whisper. The vindicated smirk he flashes in response is enough to send shivers down your spine.

“Damn right, baby.” Tom moves his hands away, pressing them to your waist instead. “Can you lay down for me, please?”

You shuffle across the car seat as instructed, Tom shifting until he’s kneeling in the footwell of the backseats. It’s a good thing the car is obscenely huge, otherwise, the already-cramped fit would be unworkable.

Draping your legs over Tom’s shoulders, he pushes the hem of your dress up, bunching it just above your bump. The hungry fire in his eyes fades slightly.

“Is this okay? Are you comfy?”

“It’s fine,” you soothe. “Are you okay down there?”

Tom nods. The scruff of his buzzed head scratches against your inner thighs. “I’m bloody perfect,” he responds. “Can I touch you?”

“Please do.”

The tip of his nose nuzzles against your covered clit. “Perfect,” Tom purrs, his breath hot against your panties. “I think it’s time I remind you who owns this fucking pussy… As hot as it was when you were trying to tell me what to do, it’s not on.” He brings his mouth away from your core, and you whimper as his tongue laps gently across your thigh, the muscle deliciously slippery. “I’m the one calling the shots.”

You’re throbbing, every inch of you aching for his touch. The burn is visceral—pulsing, wet. “Yes, sir,” you return. Tom’s eyes snap to yours. “Do whatever you want.”

“Say please.”

Swallowing the dryness in your throat, you add, “please.”

“Good, baby. You sound so pretty begging for me.” Tom easily pulls your panties down your legs, returning to push your thighs further apart. He brings both of his thumbs to your sensitive lips, humming when you whimper. Using the pads of his fingers, he gently parts your centre, groaning softly at the sight. “Say it,” he murmurs, entranced by the paradise between your legs. “Tell how badly you want me.”

He’s incredibly infuriating, but you play right into his hand. “Please, Tom,” you whine. “Please touch me.”

He hums. “Of course, lovie,” he murmurs. He glances up at you. “All you had to do was ask.”

The first touch of his tongue against your slit makes your eyes roll back. A breathless whine slips past your lips as his mouth envelops your clit, the strong tip of his tongue nuzzling over your sensitive skin in a way you’ve only dreamed of. You’ve been able to get off in his absence, but nothing can simulate the sizzling heat of his mouth and his tongue, nor the scratching of his short hair against your fleshy inner thighs.

The way he unravels you is obscene, toned with the sounds of spit and lazy lips, the sensations of desperation. Tom devours you, using his elbows to push your thighs apart as he buries his face as close to your centre as possible. You can barely see him over the rise of your belly, but you can certainly feel him. When you start to grind down against his face, things only escalate, your eyes fluttering shut as your spine arches in response to his feverish movements.

“Oh god,” he murmurs, voice thick as it vibrates across you. “Missed this… Tastes so fucking good, sweetheart.”

Your high rolls over you suddenly and without warning, manifesting itself in a silent cry as your body goes rigid. You hear Tom hum in surprise, then feel his hands lock around your thighs, holding back your legs as they shake in the face of absolute pleasure.

“Sorry,” you pant, recovering gradually, “I didn’t know that was going to happen then.”

Tom runs his tongue over your slit, still sensitive and throbbing. “‘S okay, lovie,” he replies, voice warm. He nuzzles in closer and brings two slender fingers to push against your entrance. Your hole is hot and pulsing, pooled with your arousal. You hear it pucker as he gently presses against your cunt, teasing your entrance with his fingertips. “I’m not done making it up to you, though. Is that okay?”

Exhaling, you nod quickly. “Fuck yeah,” you say, struggling to think. “Oh.”

He slips two fingers into you, your eager walls parting and welcoming him in. Tom removes his mouth from your heat and replaces his tongue with the pad of a thumb, and when you release a loud noise of strangled enjoyment, he begins to crook his fingers into you. He strokes his digits against your walls with poise and elegance, nudging up against your g-spot and stroking, again and again, chasing the noises you release.

“So pretty,” he coos. “My pretty baby. Making all those beautiful noises.” Tom smiles almost proudly. His chin is wet with your arousal. “I love your cunt… Look at how well it's taking me.” To prove his point, he feeds a third finger alongside the others. “So greedy for me, eh? Greedy little pussy. So hot. So wet. God…”

Tom drops his head again, disappearing from your sight of vision. You moan, body jerking as you feel his tongue move around his fingers, catching the arousal that seeps from your pussy as he works you open. He releases an obscene moan before dragging his mouth to your clit, stimulating you with his hands and tongue in tandem.

“Holy fuck,” you whimper. You feel hot in the best way, your skin becoming sweaty as you writhe over the leather seat. “Feels so good, Tommy.” It feels like heaven—especially when he bends his fingers and the tips of them stroke up against your sensitive spot. “‘M gonna cum again.”

“Already?”

“Yeah.”

Tom chuckles. “I’m so good at this,” he murmurs. “Go on, angel. Don’t hold back on my account… You’re so pretty when you cum.”

The tide breaks, and your climax rolls across you, legs trembling as Tom holds you in place. You writhe as you bask in the heat, your knuckles losing blood as you clench your hands into hard fists. The press of your nails against the soft flesh of your palms hurts, but you don’t care. It feels far too good to think about anything beyond Tom.

You ride it out, and Tom eventually draws his face away from your clit. He kisses along your inner thighs as you gasp for air, only removing his fingers when you start to whimper. As good as the climaxes have felt, panting for breath on the backseat, it isn’t enough. It isn’t enough by far.

“Get up here,” you say breathlessly.

Tom chuckles as he appears from between your legs. He gives your thighs a little tap before he closes your legs, wriggling out of the footwell as you sit up. Easily, like you’ve done a thousand times before, you swing a leg over Tom’s lap, straddling him when he sits with his back against the car seat.

“Are you okay up there?” he checks, bringing his clean hand to rest on the curve of your stomach. When you nod, his brown eyes darken. “Perfect…” he hums. “Clean off my fingers, will you?”

You nod, opening your mouth expectantly and moaning as Tom slips three of his fingers between your lips. Fighting your smirk, you maintain eye contact with him, your pride swelling as you see his cheeks darken. He gently fucks his fingers into your mouth, making you moan at the movements and the taste of your heat as it spreads across your tongue. He’s messy with it, and you feel your lips and chin grow heavy from spittle.

“Pretty,” he coos, “so, so pretty.”

Tom goes to move his fingers from your mouth, only for a detail to make you pause. Eyes straining, you reach up to catch his wrist, holding his hand in place just as his fingers pull away from your lips.

“What’s this?” you query, narrowing your eyes. You drag Tom’s left hand nearer your face, gasping softly as you take note of a new tattoo resting at the bottom of his ring finger.

“Oh.” Tom shifts around slightly, biting at his lower lip. “I got your initials tattooed… When we get married, the ring will cover them, but I wanted you with me—I want you with me—all the time, even without a bit of metal.” He hesitates. “Is that okay?”

You press a delicate kiss across the letters. “Yes,” you say. You feel shy as you meet the eyes of the man who loves you so immensely. “That’s really, really sweet, Tom.” You bite your lip as you look up at him. “Gone soft on me, baby?”

“‘M always soft on you,” he says gruffly, guiding a hand to your face. He brings you closer, encouraging you to lean higher on your knees. “Love of my life, angel. You know that… My wife.”

You shift on his lap, smiling bashfully. “I’m not your wife yet.”

“Soon, soon, soon,” he whispers.

Both of you come together, no words needing to be exchanged for you to know what to do. Tom loses his clothes as you sit up a little straighter, one of your hands curling around the headrest of a seat as Tom angles himself slightly. With the rise of your bump between you, you aren’t able to be flushed together like times before, but the man beneath you is quick to readjust so he’s laying further back, giving you plenty of room to move in a way that’s comfortable. He kisses over your knuckles as you run his hard cock through your slit, his interested eyes fixed firmly on the sight of his length as you finally begin to move down.

The moment the head of his cock pushes into you feels indescribable. The ache of the stretch falls away as relief pours over you, the closeness satisfying far more than just your arousal.

“Gentle, gentle,” Tom murmurs, hand resting on your belly. “Be careful.”

You chuckle, beginning to move but only slowly. “It’s okay,” you reassure him, “it won’t hurt them.” Your eyes roll back slightly as you bring your hand down to rest on Tom’s shoulder, moaning quietly. “You can move too… Please, move.”

“Okay, darling.” Tom gently starts to move his hips. He groans as he slumps back against the seat, beautiful face coloured light pink. You’d missed the expressions he makes, how emotive the slants of his features can be. His nostrils flare and his jaw tenses as you ride him, your cunt so wet the movements are almost effortless. “That feels… so good.” His voice is hollow, gutless. “I can’t tell you how long I’ve been thinking about you. You, and your hot cunt.” He moans again, unable to sit around the words. Tom ruts into you a little harder, guiding you to move faster with the hand on your hip. “Taking me so well, darling. So fucking well. I’m not going to last at all.”

“That’s okay,” you murmur. “I won’t either.”

Tom manages a lazy smirk. He opens his eyes as he brings a hand to your clit, teasing the sensitive bud with his thumb. You jerk a little at the stimulation but start to ease into it, basking in the pleasure from the bud and Tom’s cock. He’s buried deep within you, pressing your walls apart, the curved tip of his head brushing deeper than you’ve felt in months.

“So tight,” he murmurs. Tom leans back, clearly enjoying the sight of you riding him. “My darling. You look so beautiful like this… I swear your tits are bigger, too.” The hand on your belly gently caresses the bump, Tom’s tongue briefly wandering out to wet his lower lip. “Look at how beautiful you are… I can’t wait to knock you up again.”

Stifling a moan, it takes everything in you to focus on your movements. “You feel so good, Tom,” you whimper, unable to hold back the praise he loves to hear. “I missed this so much.”

“I know, baby. I missed this too… Come on, now.” His voice hardens slightly. “I’m about to cum, but I don’t want to unless you’re right here beside me. So… will you be a good girl and finish with me? Please?”

Heat flushes through your system as you bounce your head quickly. Your eyes close, breath hitching as you feel your climax rise. It starts in the pit of your stomach, a coil pulling tighter and tighter until it bends and snaps, bursting wide and spilling pleasure across your body in warm waves of enjoyment. You cry out as you fall apart, holding Tom’s shoulder tightly as his hand clamps around your waist. You feel him mirror you, hear his loud groan as his cock pulses inside you, your movements unceasing as you ride it out together.

It ends, but you stay joined. Tom sits up, the distance put between you by your belly requiring him to stretch closer and seize your lips in a smouldering kiss. His hand returns to your cheek, yours to his, and the look in his eyes is dizzying.

“I love you so much,” he speaks, words soft like a promise. “Everything I do from here on out is for you, and…” He glances back at your stomach. “And our child.” Words thickening, you see Tom’s eyes well with tears again. He chuckles, cheeks flushing red. “Sorry,” he adds. “I get a bit choked up thinking about it.”

You stroke your fingers over the back of his hair, spiky strands smooth against your hand. “Don’t apologise for expressing your emotions, baby,” you whisper. “It’s been a very long day.”

Tom nods. “Love you,” he murmurs again. He nuzzles his head into the palm of your hand, his eyes closing.

“I love you too,” you say, words truer than they’ve ever been before. You bend down to kiss his forehead. “Do you want to go home now?”

He hums. “Y/N,” he whispers. Tom blinks up at you, eyes soft. He catches the palm of your hand with a few kisses as he sits up a little straighter. “I’m already home.”

Teeth grazing your lower lip, you hold back your smile as you marvel at how clichéd he’s become. You bend down and kiss him very gently. “Sap,” you murmur. “Love you, though.”

Tom pulls a face. He rolls his eyes, but there’s no malice—only love. “Love you too,” he says. “Yes, though,” he adds, “I would love to go home.”

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

finis

yay

that’s probably a wrap on mob!tom ! i don’t have any more fic ideas for him :( that being said, this was a lot of fun to write, and i really, really hope you liked it :D ik the theme isn’t everyone’s cup of tea, so if you read it all, i love you very very much

please let me know if you have any thoughts!!

masterlist through the link in my bio <3

[smutmommy]

Sexual Healing.

Warnings: NSFW, daddy kink, overstimulation, painful induced pleasure, blood kink kinda lol.. 18+

Summary: After an altercation on the beach, Michael has an idea on what can make him feel better.

This is my first fic so bare with me, I’m not a professional writer so it’s not perfect.

————

Long walks on the beach together always relieved any tension you and Michael had in your depressing lives. The sound of the waves brushing upon the shore while the sand crunched below your feet always seemed to bring some peace of mind.

The two of you rested on a blanket, taking in the beautiful sight of the beach when an angry man suddenly approached, immediately yelling about how you were in his spot. You quickly apologized to the man and grabbed Michael’s hand suggesting to leave it alone, you didn’t want to ruin the relaxing day or waste time fighting with some random guy.

You had hoped after you informed the man you were leaving he would calm down, but instead he continued to curse at the two of you as you grabbed the rest of your things.

Growing tired of the man’s insults, Michael snapped and punched him across the face. Michael then, grabbed your arm and began dragging you away when suddenly the man came charging back at Michael with a knife.

Tears began flooding down your cheeks while your heart was practically beating out of your chest, “I’m calling 9-1-1,” you said pulling out your phone but Michael stopped you.

“I’ll be fine, it’s just a deep cut.” He says, examining the fresh wound on his torso. He stood up, casually brushing the sand off of his pants then placed his hand out for you to take it, “Let’s go home. You scrunched your eyebrows together completely shocked at his response, although you wanted to call the police or at least an ambulance, you listened to him and nervously followed him the way back to the murder house with his arm leaning around your shoulder.

Once the two of you made it into the house you quickly called for Ben who came rushing down stairs, “What happened?” He said noticing your hands stained with blood. Shakily explaining what happened Ben ran back upstairs, shortly coming back with Gladys; one of the nurses and a first aid kit in his hands. “Yea, luckily he didn’t stab you, just a deep cut.” Ben explained whilst Glady’s cleaned and and stitched Michael up.

Michael grunted as you helped him lay on his bed, you popped a pain pill in his mouth before shoving some water in his face. “Okay,” You whispered, “I know you already said you aren’t hungry but is there anything else I can do for you?”

Michael grabbed your head and pulled you close enough just to rub his nose against yours, “Y/n, I’m okay. I promise.”

“I just want to make you feel better.” You replied disappointingly.

Michael stayed silent for a couple of seconds looking in your eyes before a smirk appeared on his face, “Well…there is this one thing that will make me feel better.” He says, dragging his finger up the bottom of your skirt. Chills formed on your skin at the feeling of his delicate touch. As much as you wanted to entertain Michael’s thought, you pushed his hand away and closed your legs.

“Michael, no. I don’t want to hurt you,” You watched his snarky grin turn into a frown, “Think about it, we can rip your stitches…you need to sleep.”

“You know pain is my guilty pleasure, now open up those legs and get positioned for daddy.” He demanded.

Hearing the serious tone in his voice, you obeyed and plopped yourself on top of him, in a placement as if you were about the ride him, you spread your legs and dug your your head into his shoulder for comfort. Michael eagerly pulled down your skirt then stretched his long arms back down in between your thighs.

Since you didn’t have any panties on, his cold fingers instantly made contact with your wet skin and he gasped with excitement. “Easy access.” He sarcastically mumbled before sticking a finger in your warm cunt, “Fuck y/n, you’re already so wet for me.” He added while shoving a second finger in, you felt his fingers curl inside of you and immediately relaxed into his arms.

Michael kept his pace slow as he consistently reached your sweet spot, wanting to tease you with every second, “Michael please, faster, harder.” You whined, the swift feeling of his fingers softly pumping in and out of your cunt wasn’t enough, you needed more but you knew this was Michael’s way of pleasing himself, he loved to hear your heavy breathing along with your small whimpers and begs for more.

“What did you say?” He whispered into your ear sending chills down your spine.

“Please Michael, faster, harder.” You moaned before sloppily kissing on his neck. Michael let out a soft moan and slightly turned his head so you could dig yourself deeper into his neck. Now with the sweet feeling of your mouth sucking against his skin he shoved a third finger in and without hesitation, he began aggressively pumping his long fingers in and out of your dripping cunt. You began moaning even louder into his ears while bouncing up and down on his fingers, the two of you both going at a perfect synchronized pace.

Suddenly, your legs began shaking and that warm and fuzzy feeling began traveling up your body. You grabbed onto his shirt, accidentally squeezing at his fresh wound and not even realizing him painfully grunting with satisfaction as you melted into his hands finally releasing that warm intense pleasure that had been building up. “Yes, cum for daddy. Let it all out baby.” Michael cooed while shoving his fingers even deeper inside, your juices completely drenching his hands. You bit Michael’s shoulder in attempt to muffle the loud pleasurable moans as you took in every ounce of that euphoric release.

“O-okay, M-Michael enough!” You screamed, Michael cockily chucked to himself as he slowly pulled his fingers out and sucked any remaining liquids off of his fingers. You rested on top of him, still in the same position trying to gather yourself from the amazing orgasm you just experienced.

“What’re you doing?” You lazily questioned at the sound of Michael’s belt unraveling, before you could say anything else Michael slammed you down onto his hard erection and began pounding into you creating a strong feeling of overstimulation. You were certain the whole house could hear your screams, but as embarrassed as you were, you couldn’t hold them in, not anymore now that Michael was pushing you towards another intense orgasm.

The tingly feeling over oversensitivity finally faded and you pulled yourself up and began grinding your hips against his. Michael’s hand traveled up your body and to your breasts before ripping your blouse open which sent the buttons from your shirt flying and lightly tapping against the ground. “Michael!”You spat, he chuckled quickly before dropping his attention back to your breasts and softly sucking on sensitive nipples.

Still angered at your now ruined top, you dug your fingers into Michael’s stitches as you continued riding his throbbing erection. Michael grunted in pain and began biting down harder onto your breasts causing you to also grunt in agony. His grip on your ass was growing even tighter and his nails were painfully digging through your skin, signaling he was close.

Michael couldn’t help but feel helpless and vulnerable as all his limbs went weak and his core practically turned to honey. His breathing hitched and his grunts were now loud moans as his warm seed practically exploded inside of you.

That feeling of needing to release followed shortly after. Tears of joy began streaming down your face as you reached your second orgasm, a mixture of yours and Michael’s juices began dripping out of your abused cunt.

“Fuck y/n.” He heavily breathed out.

Being the concerned girlfriend you are, you lifted his shirt to check on his stitches, and as predicted the wound was now bleeding all over again from the little event that just occurred. “Fuck Michael, we shouldn’t of had sex, I told you it was going to rip the stitches.”

“You seemed to be enjoying it when you were pressing down on them as you rode my dick.” He mumbled.

“Well you shouldn’t of ripped my favorite shirt!” You spat.

“I’ll get you a new one,” He said leaning in for a kiss, “anyways, you up for a round two?”