#it takes almost a week for swelling like that to really go down so I don’t buy that she was fine the next day

[nyaagolor]

Satoko panel redraw bc I’m reading through the Higurashi manga atm

[tonycries]

R U Mine?

Synopsis. Does he really count as an éx if he’s fúcking you this good?

Pairings. [SEPARATE] Gojo x Reader, Sukuna x Reader, Choso x Reader, Geto x Reader, Nanami x Reader, Toji x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, éxes, mating press, they’re REALLY down bad, jealousy (Nanami’s, Sukuna’s), bréeding, marathon séx, recording (Sukuna’s), creampíe, cúmplay, pússytalking, possessíve boys, oraI (fem receiving), thígh ríding, fíngering, proposals, HEINOUS things, pet names, swearing.

Word count. 5.2k

A/N. I love men groveling hehe. Hope y’all have a great week!

♡ TOJI FUSHIGURO - 1 week

Oh, it’s around the fourth orgasm when Toji can’t think - can’t even breathe.

Can’t do anything but spit out little profanities into your swollen lips while he rams his messy cock deeper into your sloppy entrance. Body moving before his mind to savor the sweet sweet cunt that’s been plaguing his mind all week.

Again. And again. And again and again and-

“A week.” you hear that familiar mantra from behind you, whirling your teary eyes to stare over your shoulder at your utterly wrecked ex-husband. Gaze glassy, cheeks flushed, lips sagging open as he pants, “A whole week, n’ you’re sure she didn’t m-miss me, doll? Didn’t crave me fillin’ her up?” 

And Toji takes your pitiful little whine as enough of an answer, reaching down below to thumb apart your folds greedily - all puffy and sensitive where he swipes at the seed trickling down your poor, overfilled slit. “Or do I just hafta prove it to ya?”

So mean with the way he’s shoving each and every thick spurt of his cum back inside your gummy walls. Sloppier. Languid, as the exhaustion sets in - and honestly, Toji doesn’t even know if he can cum again despite the long, calculated strokes into your snug cunt. 

But he has to, even if it fucking kills him. 

Moaning messily, your knees weaken at his renewed vigor, “T-Toji I-” Laying your body limply over the lewd little pool of cum below you, you claw at the damp sheets. “D-didn’t-”

But he doesn’t hear - doesn’t even care when he brings up his shaky fingers -  glossy, and covered in the mess of your juices and his cum - up to your swollen lips. 

“Ah ah-” he tuts, pushing the pads of his thick fingers between them amusedly. Dick swelling up further inside you at the way that smart mouth of yours sucks on the salty taste like such a slut. “These mm- sheets were expensive since ya ngh- threw out all mine, y’know. C’mere, come to your husband.”

And in a split second, two, strong hands are pulling you back up by your forearms. Arching your body back like such a slut, bending you in half against Toji’s sculpted front. And fuck this new angle makes you keen. 

He’s pressing a chaste kiss into your quivering shoulders, “Or- we could just mm fuck- share the same ones again?”

That only makes your hips fuck back against his, messily trying to meet his ruthless tempo - one that has you depending on Toji holding you up like some ragdoll. One that has him pistoning his hips faster, more purposeful, so infuriatingly familiar with the way he glides his aching tip along your ravaged g-spot. 

“Y-you’re too much-” you meet his amused, half-lidded gaze. Letting him lick and kiss at the big fat tears rolling down your cheeks, grazing your lips against that tiny scar of his. “Should’ve ngh- never-”

“No.” a groan bursts from his lips. Fingers tightening - sure leave marks around your arms, using the gravity to bounce your body deeper into his cock. “No no no no- was a- fuuuck stop squeezin’ me s’tight- was a joke, doll. Already waited a week, don’t go takin’ this ah- pussy away from me again.” 

For all his cockiness, Toji sounded worried - so genuinely concerned as he drags his sensitive length along your plushy walls. Tears pricking behind his eyes with each painful squeeze of his twitching balls, smacking your skin with each rough, depraved thrust inside

Scoffing, “Wh-what if I mmpf- do?”

And he’s slamming his hips into you so mean that you could almost feel the overabundance of cum sloshing inside you, claiming you from the inside out. Hips sloppy in a way that told he’s lost whatever sanity he had left.

“Said m’sorry, right? C’mooon-” Dancing an open palm up to press down on your lower stomach, hard. Letting Toji’s cum ooze down his length, pooling at his heavy balls. “She missed me too- look how much she’s ngh- takin’. How much more she wants.”

Toji’s free hand comes up to squish your cheeks together in an embarrassing pout, forcing your head down just enough to look at the heavenly sight below. And what you’re met with has you mewling out his name embarrassingly louder. 

Your poor pussy stuffed to the brim, just bulging with the struggle to take your ex-husband. 

But still trying so needily to milk him as much as possible, clenching and quivering every time his fat head kisses all your sensitive spots. 

And despite all that, you still stupidly lie, “Didn’t- didn’t miss you.”

It’s like he expected that - was waiting for it even, as an excuse to go harder.

“Well then…” a slow, dangerous smirk spreads across Toji’s features - one that definitely didn’t bode well for you. He presses a hot peck against your wobbly lips, cock twitching knowingly against your g-spot. “Guess I’ve gotta f-fill her up again to prove it.”

♡ NANAMI KENTO - 3 weeks

“Look at me.” you hear from above you, two long fingers gently tilting your head up to meet Nanami’s hardened gaze. “Look at who’s fucking you, my love.”

You squirm, thighs trying to clamp around where he was positioned between them. “K-Ken–”

“Yeah, that’s it.” Nanami hushes you gently - the exact opposite of those languid, heavy grinds of his aching cock into your already-stuffed cunt. Shoving you further and further up those silky sheets of his with each smack of his hips, “S’me. I hah- I got you, darling. Finally, I got you.”

It’s been a whole three weeks without your pretty touch, without those sweet sweet moans spilling from your lips. Without you - sprawled out all prettily like this on Nanami’s king-sized bed, being fucked into the mattress by him like you deserve. 

And he’ll be sure to make up for those three weeks.

Nanami pushes away the bouquet of roses he’d gotten you earlier today, throwing your legs over his sculpted shoulders to bend you into such a mean mating press. 

He’s murmuring against the underside of your jaw, “I missed you, my love. Missed my cute cunt.”  Rolling his hips deeper into yours, fat head kissing at your poor g-spot with each little movement. Nosing down the sweet spots on your pulse, “Missed those sweet noises for me. Missed-” Biting down on the crook of your neck, hard. Enough to break skin if Nanami really wanted to. “-this. This one’s for that douche at the club.”

You’re gasping at those neat little indents on your skin, fingers twitching upwards to feel the deep, purposeful mark. Never has Nanami acted this feral. Never has he left embarrassing marks to admire for later. 

“Ken- what-” you whine - but you don’t get very far with that dazed little sentence. 

No, because Nanami’s dragging his lips so searingly across the print, hips stuttering forwards while he kisses away the dredges of pain. Only to turn his head to the other side of your neck and give you a sinful, matching mark on the other side. 

Murmuring into your skin, “That one’s for the hah- cashier that looked at you wrong. N’ this one’s-” Pretty lips sucking a tiny mark right above, “-for the security guard that was too nice to ya.”

Fuck.

No sooner are you actually realizing what is happening, Nanami’s pulling out with a pained grunt - like it killed him to be apart. Even if it was just for all of the two seconds it took for him to flip you onto your stomach like some ragdoll, strong arms supporting your weight. 

And if you were in any better state of mind you’d have questions. Literally anything but those fucked-out little moans he was dragging out of you, rock-hard cock molding your walls to him with each mean, possessive stroke. 

“This one-” Nanami kisses up your curved spine, biceps bulging as he wraps them around your middle. Biting down on the small of your back, “-s’for Higurama a-asking for your ngh- number.” Onto your shoulder, tough. Meaner than the rest, in fact, “N’ this one’s for Gojo.”

Fuck, and he won’t stop - can’t. Leaving you utterly wrecked like you’d been thrown to the wolves. But no, it’s just Nanami Kento.

“Nghh- Ken.” you blabber when he doesn’t ease up on colliding his thick tip against your g-spot. And as if that wasn’t enough, he’s snaking down a hand to draw tight, urgent little circles on your clit. “But m’yours! N-no need to be so…”

A low chuckle sounds in your ear, “What, my love?” And Nanami pistons his hips even harder, bouncing you onto the fresh mattress. “Mean? Jealous? Possessive?” 

Each little description is rattled off with a harsh pattern on your clit, sending white-hot pleasure down your poor, marked-up body - all the way down to your stuffed pussy. Bulging and stuttering with each harsh thrust.

You turn your head around to meet an uncharacteristically disheveled Nanami, familiar blue button-up pulled open, stray strands of blond sticking to his forehead, that furrow in his brow softening at the sight of your fucked-out expression. 

Through those hard, taxing rams of his hips against yours, Nanami manages to whisper out a ragged, “You’re jus’ too perfect, my girl. Too irresistible.” Hot tongue licking all over those bruises he so proudly made, “Can’t help but ngh- wan’ you for myself. Want to write my name on you.” 

“W-write your- hngh- Didn’t think you’d be so-” You’re cut off by Nanami’s fingers moving sloppier - faster. Those messy little circles forming- oh. Fuck. 

Your eyes widen, blinking up tearily at Nanami’s loving grin that told you he knew what he was doing. Fingers deftly rolling against your sensitive nub to draw out a persistent little K-E-N-T-O-K-E-N-T-O-K-E-N-T-O-K-E-N-T

“This one…” He trails off, pulling your back flush against the ridges and curves of his toned front. So tight it almost hurt. Making it easy to dip his head down and suck on your syrupy addictive lips, “This one’s all f’me.”

♡ GETO SUGURU - 1 month

It’d been a nice, long month without any noise complaints from your neighbors. A month of being left with nothing but the thought of you and whatever disappointing rebound sex you’d been having to make up for it. 

And to Geto Suguru, that was a month too long. 

Which is why he was currently snaking your shaky legs to lock around his neck, hot breath ghosting over your soaked panties as he hums. “Oh how I missed this view.”

You let out an embarrassed whine, cheeks burning at the way that Geto’s hooded eyes were just devouring the sight of your dripping wet cunt. Greedily pulling aside the flimsy fabric to eye the way your pretty pussy was glistening and winking up needily at him. 

“Did anyone else treat you like ya deserve?”

“Wha- oh!”

Geto doesn’t waste any time, flattening his hot tongue to drag it along your sloppy slit - too impatient, too starved to go without a taste any longer. Hell, he already waited a month for this. And he wasn’t going to wait any longer. “Mmm-” Dewy eyes rolling to the back of his head, “Even sweeter than I remembered, gorgeous.”

Diving in so deep between your legs that his nose was pressing up so sinfully against your throbbing clit, chin grinding against your skin. Like he couldn’t care - would love it - in fact if he could suffocate buried right here in his favorite place. 

“Mmm,” he smacks his lips against your puffy ones, teasingly circling right around the sweet spot of your clit. “Bet the neighbors missed me, huh? Missed the way I had you screamin’ on my mouth?”

You click your tongue, bucking your hips up - partially because you needed Geto to make out with your cunt the way you knew he wanted to, partially because you really needed him to shut up right now. “M-maybe.” you mutter.

Geto’s eyes are widening in mock-surprise, “Maybe?” Hooking a finger underneath that familiar little hair tie on his wrist to easily tie back those long, inky locks. Oh. Fuck. You were so fucked. “‘Maybe’ she says, hah. Well, here’s a little reminder, gorgeous.”

And it’s all you can do to bring a hand up to your mouth, trying not to scream when Geto presses a hot, open-mouthed kiss on your needy pussy. Pretty pink lips wrapping around your sensitive nub to suck - harsh. Peering smugly at you through his long lashes when you thrash and buck closer. 

“Yeah?” Geto slurs into your cunt, one hand pushing down your reckless hips. The other rolling your ravaged clit between two fingers. “Remembered?”

It was true - none of your past hookups have ever been this dizzyingly good. 

Your mouth sags open, letting out a broken whine that makes Geto throw his head back and laugh - laugh. Long tongue darting out again, circling your sloppy entrance, pressing in. “Not yet, I think.”

And oh while you were desperately trying to keep quiet, he was trying his very best to do the exact opposite. 

Tongue bullying past your puffy lips to map out all those sweet spots against your gummy walls, brows furrowing in concentration when he picks up an intense, maddeningly little tempo.

And yet, the only thing ringing in Geto’s ears were those fucking obscene squelches from below. Well, that won’t do. 

“Oh!” you yelp at the feeling of two long fingers pumping past that first ring of muscle. “Ngh- fuck you- Sugu!”

Hitting the bullseye of your g-spot straight on. Making you let out a slutty little ah! ah! ah! as his finger pads drag against every sopping nook and cranny of your plushy walls. “Lemme know how good it feels, gorgeous.”

Unapologetic. Unrelenting, as Geto plays with you on his fingers. On his mouth lapping at your syrupy sweet juices, rolling his tongue so mean against your ravaged clit. Your sloppy entrance. Fuck, even those sensitive areas on your thighs. Anywhere and everywhere that Geto Suguru could reach because shit, it’s been too long. And he’s drunk, so fucking drunk on his girl’s pussy. 

Your eyes snap open, and shit the sight is so pretty that it makes you clamp down sinfully on his fingers. Hair falling out of his sloppy bun, framing Geto’s pretty flushed face. As pink as those lips meshing messily with yours. Eyes dazed, miles away, your slick dripping down his face, down, down, down all the way to the curve of his jaw. 

You manage to let out a disbelieving mutter of, “Y-your girl?” And when that doesn’t rouse Geto, you tug familiarly on his disheveled hair. Having to fucking pull him back to repeat, “Your girl?” 

Fuck, did he say that out loud?

Oh, well - he wasn’t entirely wrong, was he?

And he tells you that - involuntarily, of course, high off your sweet taste and your cute moans. Loud. Movements only speeding up. 

“S’true.” You feel his lips form a fucked-out smile against your pussy, “This pretty pussy is mine, right? S’mine to ruin.” Giving your poor, abused clit a lingering, chaste peck - one that if you didn’t know any better, you’d consider to be apologetic. “Mine to make you scream.”

So it only makes sense that you do when you cum. 

“Hngh- oh my god oh my god, Sugu I’m- m’cumming m’cumming hah-” Your thighs tighten around Geto’s frenzied head, vision blurry while he laps away content at your pussy. Difficult, almost, with the way you were clenching and milking his face. Until your voice was hoarse, “I’m- oh”

Your hips drag along his pretty face, and he eases you into it. “Yeahh, that’s it.” Giving your ass a gentle smack, “Jus’ like that. Let ‘em know. Let everyone know there’s no one that knows this pussy as good as me.” 

“Y-you’re so- ngh”

“Shhh shhh, I know I know, gorgeous. But save your voice-” Geto rock-hard cock twitches needily at the thought of how fucking pissed everyone in this apartment building was about to be. “-cuz you’re about to lose it, soon.”

♡ CHOSO KAMO - 4 days

Choso feels hot - he feels like he’s burning from the inside out when you slide your slutty excuse of your panties to the side. Spreading your legs to flash him a glimpse of your dripping wet cunt, “So do it then, if you’re so sorry.”

And oh was Choso sorry. 

Sorry he couldn’t move faster with the way he was immediately sidling up right next to you, shaky fingers trembling on that belt of his until his red, angry cock springs free. Smearing a lewd streak of precum down his abs.

Sorry he couldn’t even pretend to want this any less when he’s immediately sliding his fat, leaky tip between your pretty folds. Sliding up and down up and down up and-

“Oh.” you jaw falls slack when he presses in, stretching that first, feeble ring of resistance around Choso’s thick tip. Hips stuttering in protest, “Fuck- forgot how- ngh, big you are, Cho.”

“S-sorry-” he gasps into your open mouth, moving in shallow, slow grinds to squeeze inside. Catching your lips with his in a messy kiss, “Sorry m’sorry- m- hah-” And whatever coherent thoughts are fucked out of Choso’s mind when he finally sinks in all the way, “Ohhh m’sorry.”

Sorry it took him a whole four days until he was buried to the hilt inside your syrupy sweet pussy again. 

He squeezes the fat of your ass between two hands, pulling your tight pussy impossibly deeper down his length. All the way until you could feel the thump! thump! thump! of his racing veins again your gummy walls. “M’yours again, right?”

And despite his question, Choso doesn’t even think about giving you the time to answer - immediately shoving his swollen cock inside until he could feel the plush of your cervix. Fucking you into your couch so ruthlessly, so depraved. 

Making up for those four days - twofold.

“Ngh- f-fuck, Cho, where did ngh- where did this all come from?” you whine, biting down on his wobbly lower lip. “What’s got you so-”

One arm wraps around your middle, the other snaking down to cut you off with one, hard roll of his thumb against your throbbing clit. “You.” Is all he manages to get out, before looping that same thumb around your flimsy panties. Once - hard. 

Rip!

Looking right into your bleary eyes as he shreds them clean off your waist.

And you can only watch - lips dropping into a soft oh! of disbelief as Choso brings the sodden, tattered fabric up, up, up to his face. Breathing in your essence, “F-fuuck, n’ this pretty pussy, of course.” 

Immediately, he’s smashing into your sensitive spot. Sloppy. Animalistically. 

So depraved - not even pulling all the way out until his weeping tip is circling your entrance like usual. Instead, fucking into you in just quick, jagged thrusts like he was addicted to the feeling of your cunt, addicted to each pretty moan pulled out from you when he brushes up against your g-spot. 

“S’too good, Cho.” you mewl at the way you’re being shoved higher and higher up your couch with your ex-boyfriend’s rough cadence. “S’too- oh-” Scrambling at the cushions, the coffee-table, anything and everything to keep whatever’s left of your sanity. 

So much so that you almost miss the gentle hand placing your trembling ones over Choso’s broad shoulders, whispering out a strained, “M’sorry. Fuck- m’sorry.”  

You didn’t even know what he was apologizing for at this point, but you circle your hands around his neck to pull him closer. Letting Choso place his teary eyes on your mouth, tentatively sucking on your bottom lip, “M’yours, right?” Abusing your poor sweet spots, fingers taking their place back to toy with your pulsing clit. Rolling and circling the sensitive nub against his thick fingers, “Lemme be yours, baby- can’t ngh- can’t live without your sweet pussy. Without you.” 

“Y-yeah?” you let out a wet murmur.

And Choso’s giving you a barely-lucid nod, each drag of his cock along your gummy walls makes him grow louder. Pulling you along with him, closer and closer. 

“Mhm, wanna be yours-” Utterly wrecked little strangled gasps of your name escaping him, “M’gonna die- ya feel too good. Too- hah- mine. Oh, baby m’sorry I’m-”

It’s all it takes for him to send you over the end, with one harsh collision of his thick head against your g-spot. And suddenly you’re seeing stars behind your eyes, feeling Choso’s cock twitch wildly as he fucks you through your high. 

Once. Twice.

With absolutely no rhythm or rhyme - just running on the fumes of you milking him so fucking tight and an orgasm so hard it has tears pricking behind his lids. Cumming in thick, hot ropes of his seed that coat your walls white - again and again and- Choso can’t stop. Doesn’t want to stop. 

“M’sorry- ngh” Doesn’t want to do anything other than push your legs so far apart it burned, eyeing the creamy ring of white around his base as he whispers, “I’ve still got four days to make up for.”

♡ RYOMEN SUKUNA - 13 days

“Ya think he’s really gonna like this, brat?” Sukuna breathes hotly against your ear above the thumping bass. Sharp canines grazing along the outer shell, “Think hell like how pretty you look whining on my lap like this?”

You huff in frustration, eyes screwed up against the harsh flashlight shining down on your precarious position. Hands still urgently tugging down your ex-boyfriend tight boxers, skirt hiking up where you were sat so sluttily across his muscled thighs. 

Honestly, you didn’t know that all it’d take for Sukuna to snap was a risky little dance with some cute guy at this party. Eyes hardening, all but dragging your smug self into the nearest unlocked bedroom. 

But, hell, you weren’t complaining about it, either.

“Maybe.” you flash him a devilish grin, batting your lashes up so devilishly innocently at the phone camera pointed at you. Perfectly catching the way your bare cunt was just drooling and glistening all over him, “Or maybe he’ll just wonder why your dick’s so sm-”

Whatever insult dies on the tip of your tongue when Sukuna pulls down his boxers just enough for his swollen cock to hit his toned front. 

Rock-hard and beading angry precum at his fat head, running down, down, down his long length to pool at his heavy balls. So unfairly big that it made your thighs quiver - fuck, it’s been too long. 

And Sukuna notices - of course he does. 

“What were ya sayin’, brat?” he hums, dick twitching ever-so-slightly at the flustered shake of your head. “No no no,” Sukuna raises his knee so that gravity slides you closer down his thigh, his free hand reaching out to squish your cheeks together. Possessive. Demanding. You gasp as he starts up a steady, methodical bobbing of his leg to the music outside. “-use your words. My dick’s so what?”

Sukuna knew the answer - and you did, too. 

And it certainly wasn’t wrapping your swollen lips around that large thumb of his on your face, sucking softly as you rock your hips back to meet his cadence. 

“Nothing, Kuna.” you smile, syrupy sweet. Letting your cunt form a lewd little wet patch that helps you slide easier. “Just talking about-” Sukuna’s breath hitches in his broad chest when you wrap your soft palm around the base of his cock, squeezing. “-how much I missed your dick.”

The camera shakes in his hand, “You little minx.”

Maybe you were an idiot - maybe you were a genius.

Because no sooner are the words out of his mouth before Sukuna’s bucking into your hips, dragging your sloppy cunt along the dips and curves of his thigh muscles. Having him fuck your fist at the same frenzied tempo.

Muffled around his fingers, “Kuna-” 

“Shut up.” he hisses, resting your pretty pussy on that tattooed band on his leg. “Couldn’t even last two weeks. If you hah- missed my dick so bad then y’can get off on this, too, hm?” 

And shit you forgot how mean Sukuna was with his little movements. 

Bouncing his legs to grind your dripping cunt along his thigh, making you ride it so hard that your throbbing clit is catching on his muscles. All the way from near his knee down the sinful trail to where you could almost meet his aching cock.

He pushes the phone closer to catch the way your eyes roll to the back of your head, lips sagging open stupidly. “Answer me. Answer the camera, tell him how much you missed me.” 

The blurry camera alternates between the way you’re pumping your hand - all shaky and soaked in precum - up and down his cock. And the way Sukuna’s dipping a large hand down to help spread your swollen pussy lips, toying with your sensitive nub in the process.

“Ngh-” you squeal when he places that same hand back on your hips, taking control to bully your hips harder and harder down his thigh. Flashlight illuminating that obscene trail of sweet sweet juices you’ve left behind. “M-missed this-”

Sloppier. More desperate. 

And, usually, he’d tease you a little for being so pliant, for humping him like a bitch in heat - but fuck Sukuna can’t even speak when your thumb teases nimbly underneath his sensitive tip - just the way he liked.

“O-oh-” he��s letting out a guttural groan, eyes rolling to the back of his head at the familiar touch. “Heh, that needy? You ngh- wanted this that much ya had to dance with a loser to fuuuck- make me jealous?”

And yet for all Sukuna’s talk, he’s only fucking his hips up into your fist. Recording the way he was furiously twitching in your hands, so needy. So depraved. 

Fingers jolting to leave little crescent marks on your hips as they tighten. Words strained, “Wan’ed to ride my thigh like before? To leave your lil’ mark on me? After all, I did get this thigh tattoo in honor of you, y’know.” 

It’s all you can do to sob out, hips stuttering messily. “K-Kuna- m’close- ah-” Messily dragging your lips across his, “Gonna cum mmpf- gonna cum gonna-”

But oh you should’ve known. Should’ve gotten an inkling that your dear ex-boyfriend wouldn’t let you off that easy. 

Because in a split-second, you’re being plucked off Sukuna’s thigh so easily, the camera set up in some corner of the bed to capture the way he sandwiches his swollen cock between your puffy folds. Kneading at your ass to slobber your syrupy juices all over him. 

Mouth quirking up into a cruel little smile at your disappointed little whine, “You really think m’getting ya for the first time in almost two weeks n’ letting you cum on anything but my cock?” And an even crueler laugh, “Better get workin’ before I send this video to that new boytoy of yours, brat.”

♡ GOJO SATORU - 6 hours

“New shoes, new purses, new nails-” Gojo has his face buried into the crook of your neck, swollen lips bursting with new, broken little moans each passing second, “-a new car- fuck- five new cars. I don’t care, sweetheart. Jus’- jus’ a bit more-”

“Six hours…”

“Six hours too fuckin’ long, thought m’gonna die without this sweet sweet cunt.”

And oh then two large hands of his are shoving up that silky new dress he’d bought for you just a few hours before. Spreading your shaky legs further apart to piston his cock faster - deeper - into your heavenly cunt. 

“Hngh- T-Toru–” you whine, your new heels digging into the skin of Gojo’s toned hips. Jeweled bracelets clanging together as you drag your nails down his milky back - absolutely ruining the smooth canvas. “You’re just b-bribing me.”

“So?” Gojo sounds genuinely confused, raising his pussydrunk eyes to focus on yours, “What’s wrong with ohh fuck jus’ like that- spoiling my girl?”

You give him an eye roll - which only makes your ex-boyfriend let out a stuttering gasp. Head dropping back as his cock twitches wildly, massaging those hidden sweet spots along your gummy walls in a way that only he can.

“The- the problem is- ngh m’not your girl.”

For the entirety of six hours, that is. And the great Gojo Satoru wasn’t about to let that last for a minute longer. 

“Fuuuck don’t say that, sweetheart.” Gojo groans, two fingers making their way downwards to toy with your poor clit, twirling and brushing the pads of his fingers against the sensitive nub. “You’re my girl, always my girl, right? Or do I h-hafta ngh- buy ya another house to prove it?”

You’re gasping at the sight of Gojo reaching for wherever his phone had been thrown off, well and fully intent on calling Tokyo’s best contractor right now. “No!” Pinning his hand down with yours, “Don’t- don’t need another house, Toru.”

Gojo’s pretty pink lips fall into a stubborn pout, and yet his hips never stop. Fucking you into the mattress of this overpriced hotel suite so hard you were sure it would leave marks. 

His heavy balls on your ass, thighs against your own, fingers on your waist - just itching, aching to rip this flimsy dress off of you and fuck you all over again in a whole new one from the stacks of bags on the floor. 

“Then what.” he moans, words hitching upwards with each sloppy smack of his hips against yours. Shuddering out a heavy breath against your lips, “Anything- haaah anything for you. Anything n’ I jus’ want you- fuck fuck fuck jus’ want you.” 

It’s a ragged, dizzying little mantra that he kept spitting into your open mouth. Only growing louder and louder with each drag of Gojo’s massive length against your dripping cunt. Stretching you out, molding you, drawing you back to him.

You choke out, “Wan’- want- ngh-” 

But fuck it was so difficult to speak with how needily Gojo was playing with your pretty pussy. Just ravaging your gaping hole with his unforgiving cock, molding you against each ride and curve of his dick. Fingers so firm on your clit, “Mhm? Tell me- ngh anything.”

“Wan’ you-” you’re letting out an embarrassed pant. Lips crashing against his stunned ones, “Wanna cum- want you- fuck- wanna cum, Toru, so bad.”

“Then cum.” It’s all you can make out through the blood roaring in your ears, your orgasm so close that it almost hurt. Or maybe that’s just how hard that Gojo was pushing into your cervix, your g-spot, everywhere and anywhere. “Cum f’me, my girl.”

And then you are - your entire body jolting into Gojo’s as he fucks you messily through your high. Over and over and-

Barely even making it three, mean thrusts before the way your tight pussy was milking him gets too much. Before he can’t help but spill all into your gummy walls, painting then a creamy little white that was so sinful. So his.

Gojo’s free hand crushes you even closer to his body, pinning you down with his weight to make sure you take every single drop of his seed. All of it. 

“Ohh fuck- you’re right.” he grits out, the pleasure too much that his eyes are blown, jaw falling slack, veins popping out from the side of his neck. “Ngh- this is the best- fuck, you’re the best. The- oh m’gonna give ya everything for the rest of m’life-”

And in the haze of it all, you barely even register the cold, metallic band being slipped gently onto your finger. And despite your blurry, unfocused vision, you could pick apart the ridiculously large diamond winking at you under the dim-lighting. Gojo’s voice sounding way too-pleased as he hums, “Jus’ a lil’ something I bought extra.”

A/N. Reader in Gojo’s is too nice idc I’d be asking for that new house. 

Plagiarism not authorized.

[g0dlyunsub]

don't pretend.

spencer can see through all of your lies, including the bruises you’re hiding behind makeup.

pairing :: spencer x fem bau!reader

warnings :: mentions of prisons, physical violence, bruises, reader gets injured, patching up, fluff

word count :: 1.6k

author’s note :: oh, looks like i’ve spawned another hurt/comfort fic yet again…

accompanying song :: who hurt you by role model

you’re an ambitious profiler. 

you’re such an ambitious profiler that you interview offenders with the most extensive list of records whenever you have time. you want to understand more than just the simple question of why they did it. you want to explore the how’s and what if’s.

and you’re soft-hearted, so much so that you jeopardize your own safety. 

things should’ve gone smoothly with your fifth and last inmate of the week, had you been a little more aware of your surroundings.

but you placed too much faith on your ability to make peace with the man who unyieldingly worshiped violence.

that was your only mistake, but it was a costly one. 

you had kindly asked the guard to release the handcuffs, even though he insisted that they stay on. 

it’s alright, you told him with the wave of your hand. 

but you should’ve noticed the look of challenge on the inmate’s face. it was like he was taunting you, almost as if to say, do you really feel safe being in the same room as me?

it was your soft-heartedness that almost got you severely injured. 

he managed to land punches to your left cheek and scratched his nails into the flesh of your leg as he fell, right as he was tackled to the ground. 

he laughed when he saw you holding your hand against your throbbing cheek.

you arrive at the office as early as you can, a layer of makeup thicker than usual coating the bruise swelling your left cheek. 

you pretend to bury your head in the case file that you retrieved from your desk when the rest of the team started to flood into the room.

when spencer arrives, he gives you a nod and gleefully chirps good morning as he takes his seat beside you. 

spencer knows your routine like the back of his palm – he knows you’re busy with interviews at the federal prison on saturdays and sundays, and he knows you always need a caffeine boost the next morning. you gladly accept the cup of coffee that he sets in front of your hands with a small smile.

as hotch is debriefing the case with garcia, however, you can’t help but feel his eyes drilling into the side of your face, as if he can see through your cover. 

your makeup can’t be that obvious, right?

your thoughts are interrupted when hotch closes the cover of his case file, stands, and announces wheels up in 20. 

you lift yourself with the support of the table and wait for everyone else to exit before you follow, doing your best to disguise the limp in your walk.

---

“alright. jj and prentiss, go to the morgue. morgan and reid, go to the crime scene. dave, you and l/n can set up with the local p.d. i’ll go talk to the victims’ families.”

as hotch assigns roles to the team, everyone nods when their names are called out. but spencer raises his hand slightly and clears his throat.

“actually, hotch, do you mind if i switch with rossi and set up with l/n and the locals instead?”

hotch hesitates for a second, but nods slowly. 

“sure. dave, you okay with that?”

the italian agent cocks up a questioning eyebrow but gives a warm smile. “i don’t see why not.”

you’ve never heard spencer contest hotch’s orders before, so you’re stumped as to why he’s suggesting an alternative role this time. but you soon brush off the thought, and decide to occupy your time re-reading the case files before the jet lands.

you sink into your seat with a heavy sigh, forcing your eyes shut as pain travels down your legs. you’re thankful that hotch assigned you to set up at the local p.d., since it doesn’t require much locomotion and spares you the struggle of getting up constantly. you watch as spencer spreads the corners of the map and sticks push pins into the corkboard. 

“how did your interviews go yesterday?” spencer breaks the silence first and moves to grab a red marker. with his practiced hand, he quickly circles the areas of the crime scenes on the map.

you gulp.

“they went pretty well, you know, nothing out of the ordinary.”

spencer caps the tip, and a click sounds as the plastic edges meet. he nods, wets his lips with his tongue, and turns to look at you. you meet his gaze for a brief second before you look away, pretending to busy yourself with the m.e. reports that jj sent over.

“green neutralizes red.”

his sudden remark startles you. you drop the papers in your hands and look up. “i’m sorry?”

“green contains the wavelengths that are missing in red light, so when they mix, the colors neutralize each other. that’s why concealers with a green base are better at covering up more reddish bruising,” spencer elaborates, and starts to match up the photos of the crime scenes to the locations marked on the map.

you blink. oh.

there’s no way he’s talking about you, right?

“um, yeah, green’s a common color corrector,” you mutter as you nervously tap your fingers against the wooden table. “but there weren’t any bruises or marks of assault on the victims.” 

spencer scoffs as you finish your sentence.

“it’s not about the victims. you. i’m talking about you.” 

you swallow slowly. 

“i-i don’t know what you’re talking about,” you try, a fake smile plastered over your face as you shake your head left and right. 

spencer studies you with a scrutinizing stare, eyes boring into yours like he’s counting the number of times you blink.

“could you grab that for me?” he asks at last, pointing to the book that’s two tables away, the one titled florida’s topography and bathymetry. without thinking, you nod and stand.

fuck.

what a clever way to set you up. now you have to somehow mask the limp in your steps and pretend like the pain coursing through your legs is nonexistent.

you do your best to walk normally, but it’s hard to tell if you’re doing a good job from his unreadable stare. you hold the book out with a bemused smile, hoping it’s enough to cover your pained expression.

he doesn’t look convinced. 

“that,” spencer points to your leg with an accusatory gaze, “why are you walking like that?” 

he swiftly takes the book from you, and your hand instinctively grips the side of the table for support.

“like what?” 

you’re going to make him pry the confession out of you. 

“like you’re hurting,” spencer utters quietly. his last word catches your breath completely.

“is that why you asked rossi to switch with you? so you could interrogate me?” 

“who hurt you?” spencer ignores your question, setting the book aside and leaning over the table to get a closer look at your face. 

instinctively, you retreat and look down, but he walks around the table and kneels in front of you. your brain buzzes with the words he’s just declared. it’s not what did you do, or what happened to you. instead, it’s who hurt you. 

“i… it’s nothing.” you shift in your chair, but he stops the seat from turning completely by laying a hand on the headrest.

“tell me. please.” 

you can’t fake it anymore, especially when he’s already hammered the nail into the hole perfectly.

you rub your sweaty palms on your lap. “one of them tried to hurt me during the interview. i-it was my fault, i asked the guards to take off the cuffs. i thought they’d be more willing to cooperate that way.”

spencer’s expression mellows as you speak, but he doesn’t return a comment. somehow, this makes you even more nervous.

a second after, he lifts his hand and slides a finger along the slightly swollen area of your cheek. he hesitates when you start to wince in pain.

tapping his knee with his index finger, he instructs, “let me take a look at your leg.”

you comply.

when you lift your leg, spencer’s hand slips between the wedge of your platform's heel, and gracefully sets your foot on his knee. 

you observe him gently push the thin fabric of your trousers upwards. you hold your breath when he leans in to inspect closely, and you almost shudder when the vapor of his warm breath tickles the gash on your flared shin. 

spencer steps back to retrieve a first-aid kit lying nearby and rolls up the sleeves of his shirt. without saying a single word, he pulls a cotton pad and a gauze roll from the bag.

as he wraps your leg with the gauze, he looks up to meet your lowered gaze.

“tell me his name.”

you bite your lip.

“it’s fine. you should focus on the geo-profile instead.” you exhale as spencer unfolds the rolls on the hem of your trousers to cover your leg again.

“you do know that it won’t take me long to go through every incident report,” he retorts back with a challenging glint in his eye. your cheeks heat up with a hot flush of red.

goddamnit, spencer reid. 

you hastily brush yourself away from him.

“what are you going to do?”

he pauses, every second of silence only feeding your suspicions. you watch the corner of his lips tug into a smirk.

“you know, nothing out of the ordinary.”

you huff.

“don’t use my words against me.” 

he shrugs with an indifferent expression, but chuckles before standing back up.

“his name. or do we want to do this the hard way?”

[tinydefector]

Do you think cybertronians ever get a bit freaked out on how tough we are? Yes they can break us like toothpicks but humans seem to be able to take a good beating as well with adrenaline helping. Even our own body and oxygen trys kills us and yet we stick around like roaches. We're fragile in some reasonable and dumb ways and then resilient in the most dumbest ways.

Oh definitely, alot of the bots are very off put by how fragile humans are just in general and tend to avoid them.

But then there's the moments like Ratchet working a late shift and a small knock on the door alerts him someone's there, he turns around expecting it to be Rodimus or Whirl who he's about to scold but instead it's one of the humans and they look worse for wear. After fussing over them for a moment, detailed scans relay fractured ribs, a broken collar bone, and a heap of bruises and yet the humans just like. "Can I have some Panadol, Nurophen, and a glass of water?" Because they don't know what else to do its what they would get. Most of the times they ended up in the hospital. Ratchet is losing his God dawn mind as he rushes around looking for the best painkillers he can find for orgaincs in the smallest dosage he can give, hoping to primus it doesn't shut their heart down. In the end, they end up on a medication that makes them extremely drowsy, almost like the green whistle/ Weed.

Ratchet ends up doing alot of study on the human body and realises just how fucked up little monsters we are. We literally need oxygen to survive but he we have to much pure oxygen it will kill us. Water, we need a certain amount of it, if we don't have enough we will get dehydrated and die, if we have to much we will get water poisoning, intoxication, or a disruption of brain function. This happens when there's too much water in our cells, such as the brain and blood cells, causing them to swell. When the cells in the brain swell, they cause pressure in the brain, resulting in death. The issue is that it can become an addiction to drinking too much water for the effect it has on the body. Same with nearly everything we consume, it can kill us, but we need a lot of it in moderation.

Human: "I just need some basic pain killers and a nap"

Bot: "No, you need full surgery, sedations, and 3 weeks of recovery!"

Human: "nah she'll be fine!"

Bot: "Absolutely Not, bed now before I cuff you"

____________

Following that imagine a first contact AU where Cybertronians and humans are just slowly getting to know how the other works and next thing a human is kneeling over in horrific pain and it send the bots all into panic mode trying to help them, wondering what's happening and thinking they are dying. And the human after about ten minutes some pain killers still looking rather pale and unhealthy just go. "Sorry about that fuck I hate, Cramps/palpitations/ phantom pains/ and such" and the bots are just looking at them horrified like.

Bot: NOT NORMAL!!!"

Human: what you talking about?

Bot: everything that just happened you literally just short circuited!

Human: nah that's causal wait till you see the really funky shit.

______________

Human pet AU

Cybertronian's keeping humans as pets is like humans keeping hamsters. Humans are some of the most homicidal, suicidal and just deranged creatures that Cybertronian's could keep as pets. It's gotten to the point that they are a luxury/ exotic pet because if you do not feed them the right stuff, give them the right amount of light and socialising, and they will just die. There are so many Cybertronian's who take their human into clinics worried as and its just the human being a little bustard because they didn't get the treat they wanted 2 weeks ago and are still holding that grudge. Not to mention, we are prone to causing as much trouble and issue. We are like cats.

But we are also very easily sick and primus forbid a human gets sick because to a bot they think it's a death sentence for their sweet little spitfire of a human who they have had now for ages. And the human looks ready to die, and the next day, they are up and about like nothing ever happened.

Human: if you don't feed me the meals I want I'm going to pretend to die. If you do feed me what I want I might actually die because I shouldn't be eating it.

Panicked bot: "MY HUMAN HAS GOTTEN SICK. HELP!?!"

Human: totally worth it.

_________

In conclusion, the cybertronians are rather wary/ concerned about how resilient humans really are.

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[greenglowinspooks]

(DCxDP) The obligations of a rogue versus those of a parent

—

Tw: vivisection mention (not in detail), bad Fenton parents

Will be crossposted to AO3 eventually

(Pt. 2 here) (Pt. 3 here)

(Masterlist/subscription post)

—

It was a dark, cold, miserable night, and Scarecrow, Jonathan Crane, wanted nothing more than to be home, covered in blankets with the heater set to max as he worked on his most recent strain of fear toxin.

Instead he was at the docks, standing in as backup for the Penguin as he made a deal with some sleaze-bag smugglers. Something about some sort of body armor for his hired help. Crane hadn’t really paid much attention to the Penguin’s words, only caring enough to show up because of the reward.

But honestly, he couldn’t care less about the money at this point.

He was cold, and miserable, and his leg hurt something fierce (he’d had chronic pains ever since being mauled by Killer Croc some time ago), and he was so, so close to a breakthrough with his new toxin, and he really couldn’t stand the Penguin anyways. The only thing keeping him there was his reputation as a rogue.

Just as Crane was deciding that the whole ordeal wasn’t worth it, he heard the sound of a chase a few blocks down. With a deep, heavy sigh, he moved from the wall he had been leaning against, looming in the alleyway as he waited for the potential threat to reveal itself.

A few moments later, a boy came careening into the alleyway, sliding to a stop when he noticed the Scarecrow, his eyes growing impossibly wide. Beneath the mask, Jonathan grinned.

The boy swore, loudly, glancing between Scarecrow and the exit of the alleyway. As the echoing sound of footsteps grew closer, he chose to face the way he came, turning his back to Scarecrow.

What an idiotic way to get killed. Either the boy was a complete and utter fool, or there was something out there worse (to him, at least) than the Scarecrow.

Jonathan Crane tilted his head slowly, considering. He could just cut his losses and leave, Penguin be damned, or he could stay and see what had the boy so spooked.

Eventually, unfortunately enough, his curiosity won out. He shifted, bringing a hand to his side where he kept several canisters of fear toxin.

Crane had to bite back a groan when the boy’s pursuers entered the alleyway.

It was those damned idiots in white suits.

They had been tailing him for weeks now. They were easy enough to fight, but they were annoyingly persistent, and always seemed to have a way to find him. (Not to mention, the Riddler had strong opinions on their outfits, and if he had to hear the white-suit-in-Gotham rant one more time he was going to throttle him.)

Led by the men in white was a woman in a teal hazmat suit. Jonathan had seen her around, too, though less frequently than the others. He had honestly assumed that she was just a new C-tier rogue and avoided her like the plague.

Her eyes went wide as saucers when she saw Jonathan standing a few feet from the boy. No one moved a muscle.

“Danny,” the woman spoke softly. The boy, Danny, flinched, glancing between her and Scarecrow, “come on, we can talk about this. Your father and I only want to help you.”

He was running from his mother?

Scarecrow paused after that revelation, choosing to fully take in the boy’s appearance.

He was lean, almost gaunt, and wearing clothes several sizes too big for him, probably stolen. His entire body shook, from fear and cold both, and he clutched his stomach with one hand. At first, Scarecrow assumed that it was due to being out of breath, but as he looked closer he could see blood staining the dark fabric of the boy’s shirt.

He was injured, underweight, and running from his parents.

Something that felt a lot like rage swelled in Jonathan’s heart.

“Danny, you don’t get it! We’re so close now. We can fix you, and then we can go home, and everything can go back to normal,” she said, smiling in a way that was clearly supposed to be reassuring. She took a few steps forward, the men behind her clearly readying their weapons.

The boy backed away from his mother, inadvertently coming closer to Scarecrow.

He glanced up at Crane again, his blue eyes shining in fear, but not of him.

Sickening. Sickening.

In one fluid motion, Jonathan grabbed the boy by the wrist, pulling him behind him, and threw a large canister of fear gas into the group who had been chasing him.

The liquid in the container turned to gas as soon as it broke open, billowing out and filling half of the alleyway with a thick yellow smog.

The boy gasped, pulling his shirt over his face in a pathetic attempt to filter out the toxin. It would have to do, though, Scarecrow thought, rushing forward to force the boy’s aggressors to breathe in the gas.

The fight that the men put up was pitiful. The few individuals who didn’t breathe in the toxin immediately were clearly unused to fighting hand-to-hand, and dropped like flies in Scarecrow’s wake.

Just as the men began to spasm and shout in their terror, as if on cue, the familiar wail of police sirens reached the Scarecrow’s ears.

He heaved a heavy, irritated sigh, fingers twitching for a cigarette. He was trying to quit as of late, but he felt that after today, he might deserve one.

Though now was not the time to be thinking of cigarettes.

Jonathan approached the boy, mindful of any signs he might run off.

The boy didn’t seem to notice his approach in the slightest, just staring at the woman in the jumpsuit as she writhed on the ground.

Right. That would most likely be traumatic for a child to see, wouldn’t it?

Scarecrow moved in front of the boy, blocking his line of sight. The boy looked up at him now, his face completely blank.

“The police are on their way,” Scarecrow spoke, his voice low. The boy didn’t acknowledge him in any way.

“You don’t want to be here when they arrive, do you?”

After several moments pause, the boy shook his head slowly. He looked numb.

Dissociation, most likely.

“You’ll come with me, then.”

It was a statement, not a question, but he waited for the boy’s response regardless. As soon as he nodded in agreement, Jonathan lifted him up, carrying him out of the cold, miserable alleyway.

Scarecrow paused briefly to warn the Penguin of the incoming officers through the comm he had been given, and then he was off, weaving through the streets and alleyways towards his getaway car.

…

The drive back to his safe house was quiet. The boy didn’t look over at him once, instead opting to stare out ahead of him.

…

Luckily, they were able to make it back without detection. Jonathan ushered the boy into his small apartment, sitting him down on the dingy couch that had come with the lease.

“Wait here, alright?” Jonathan said, the boy nodding once in response.

With that, he retreated into the small kitchen, looking for some sort of warm beverage.

It was nearly three in the morning now, so coffee was out of the question. He was completely out of the hot chocolate he had bought for whenever Eddie or Harley came over for a visit, so that was out too.

He supposed the only option was his chamomile tea. Did teenagers like tea? He supposed it didn’t really matter, the kid was on the run from his parents in the house of a Gotham rogue. Surely he had bigger things to worry about.

Jonathan made the drinks quickly, leaving the kitchen with two mugs in hand. He gave one to the boy, who looked up at him in surprise, before settling into his own seat.

It was an incredibly comfortable old leather armchair that he had gotten some years ago and stubbornly held onto ever since. He usually had one of the rogues he was at least somewhat friendly with pick it up when he entered Arkham.

Whenever Eddie and Harley were over, they would call it his old man chair, and he would tell them to leave.

The two of them sat quietly for a while, drinking their tea slowly. It was clear that the boy was leaving whatever headspace he had slipped into, becoming more alert (and uncomfortable) by the second.

“So,” Crane began, pausing before speaking more quietly when he saw the boy flinch, “you knew them.”

It was not a question.

The boy nodded, curling in on himself. He held the mug close to his chest, no doubt soothed by the warmth.

“They’ve been following me around for some time now,” Crane continued, “and you’re going to tell me why.”

The boy looked up at him, a pained expression written all over his face.

“You won’t believe me,” he murmured, curling up even further.

His clothes were soaked. Jonathan should have put down a towel before letting him sit down.

“Sure I will,” he said, ignoring the blood and water seeping into his furniture.

The landlord would not be happy.

“It’s gonna sound crazy.”

“I’ve been to Arkham.”

The boy paused, before mumbling something quietly.

“Again? I couldn’t hear you.”

“I said,” the boy huffed, quickly changing his tone when he remembered who he was talking to, “they…think you’re a ghost.”

“A ghost,” Crane repeated flatly.

“I told you it was gonna sound crazy!” The boy protested, before wrapping his arms around himself.

“Well,” Jonathan hummed, “it’s not the strangest thing I’ve heard in Gotham. Explain it to me.”

The boy paused, glancing up at his face, no doubt looking for some sign of mockery. He found none.

Then, he opened his mouth, and explained everything he could.

Ghosts, the portal to another world, the GiW, his parents. It was all incredibly far-fetched, but also far too consistent to be made up on the spot, and Crane could tell that the boy genuinely believed what he was saying.

“…but, if you don’t believe me, fine. I know it probably sounds stupid and fake,” he mumbled, looking away.

“I’ll believe you for now,” Crane said. The boy whipped his head up, staring at him in shock.

“If I do trust that what you’re saying is true, though, then why do I show up on their equipment as a ghost? I’m not dead, and never have been.”

“Um,” the boy hummed, looking somewhat nervous. Understandable, really.

“Well, have you by any chance been involved in any lab accidents recently..?”

Jonathan Crane froze, his face dropping. The boy noticed his change in demeanor, flinching slightly.

“Penguin,” he hissed out, his voice slightly inhuman. “Cobblepot, that motherfucker.”

“Wait—calm down! The angrier you get, the easier you’ll show up on the radar!”

Crane glared down at the boy, seething with rage. He once again flinched, looking away from him. With an extraordinary amount of effort, Jonathan slumped back down in his chair, breathing deeply in an effort to calm himself.

When he cracked his eyes back open, the boy was openly staring at him, curiosity written all over his face.

As soon as he noticed Crane looking back at him, he glanced away, straightening in his seat.

“Well, you’ve given me a lot to think about. In the morning, we’re going to discuss this in a lot more detail,” he said, standing up with slow movements. The boy stood as well, hands clasped together.

“For now, though, you’re going to let me take a look at that wound of yours, and then you’re going to take a shower and go to bed.”

The rest of the night went rather quickly.

The boy was rather hesitant to show him his wound, instead assuring him that it had been properly sewn up and that he was fine. Crane was having none of it, though, and gave him a once-over just in case.

It was, very clearly, the kind of cut used during an autopsy. Danny didn’t offer any information, so Crane had to assume that he was either back from the dead, or he had been vivisected. Either was possible in Gotham.

At the very least, Danny hadn’t lied about the stitches, and the wound was already beginning to heal.

With that, Danny showered quickly (he leapt out with a shriek the moment the hot water ran out), and went to bed in borrowed clothes without much complaint.

Thus, Jonathan was left with cold water for his shower, and slept on the still-damp couch so that the boy could have a bed to sleep in. Somehow, he found that he didn’t mind as much as he thought he would.

[besuggestion]

After searching for a long time, your girlfriend finally brings you something that can make your chest bigger! You've always been a little insecure about your chest, and finding something that could grow it naturally felt like a miracle.

"Take one of these every day. Hehe. How about I feed it to you?"

It sounds like fun, so you accept. Every day, your girlfriend feeds you a pill.

For the first few days, you don't feel any difference. Your nipples seem a little puffier, but your boobs haven't changed.

The next few days after that, your chest starts feeling really...sensitive. Even your clothes brushing against your nipples makes you turned on, and once you even got hard in public. It doesn't take long at all before your A cup bras don't fit.

And then...almost as if some floodgates have been opened, on the second week your chest grows. Your girlfriend feeds your daily pill, and watches as your chest gets bigger, growing tight against your shift until she pulls it off, watching as your heavy tits bounce around from being released.

It feels so heavy, and hard to move, almost like your chest is filled to the brim. Your girlfriend gropes you, enjoying as you moan and whine with every squeeze.

"Maybe today, we can do two pills?"

Before you can answer, your girlfriend stuffs the pill in your mouth and forces it closed.

*gulp*

Instantly, your body feels like it's burning up. You start moaning as your chest swells, growing bigger, each tit pressing against the other one as the pressure builds, until you're barely hanging on to your sanity...

"Hehe. I knew you were ready."

"R - ready? What do you mean?"

In lieu of a reply, your girlfriend sits down and pulls you into her lap, reaching around and grabbing your tits with both hands, and squeezing - hard. Something seems to be coming out from your nipples...!

You moan, arching your back.

"I mean...those pills weren't just to make your chest bigger. I also wanted you to be...full of milk...so full of milk..."

You open your mouth to reply, but only a moan comes out as she freely plays with your chest, more and more milk dribbling down your tits, spilling all over your lap with such a mess.

"God, you're such a mess," she says with a giggle. One of her hands reaches down, tracing down your stomach, lower down, until she touches the top of your crotch.

"Your cock's making a cute little tent," she murmurs, giving a nibble at your ear. "Let me milk this, too~"

Slowly, agonizingly, she unzips your pants, slides her hand underneath your underwear, and lightly traces her fingers up and down your cock, teasing your tip.

You whimper, and her other hand grabs at your nipple, pinching hard. Milk sprays out, and you tilt your head back, moaning again.

She wraps her hand around your cock, and your breath stops. And then, she strokes it, as your breast milk spills all over, milking and stroking and milking and stroking until you can't take it, until your hips buck uselessly at nothing -

Until you finally cum into her hand.

"What's this? You're still hard? Oh nooo, it looks like I can't stop...!"

"W-wait-!" you manage to get out, but -

You whimper. She's not going easy on you - in fact, she's not stopping at all. Milk and cum spill around your thighs as she keeps jerking you, keeps milking you, even leaning in to bite your neck as she keeps milking you, milking milking milking -

"Nnnngg!" you moan as you cum again, but for whatever reason, you're still hard, and your girlfriend isn't letting up any time soon...you feel like she's splintering your mind into pieces, it feels so good - !

"I wonder how many times I'll have to do this?" she says, but her voice betrays her excitement, and her hands keep moving, as both your legs get covered in your milk and cum, more and more and more...

[onelittlespiral]

I’ve been looking for a fraternity to join at my new college, but none of them have really been letting me in. The only one left seems to be full of horny jocks that are dumber than a bag of bricks. Think you could help me… fit in?

FML: In

As you laid it all out in front of your friend, your plans, your goals, your desires, he just kind of shook his head in disbelief:

“I know that I’ve only known you for a few weeks, but damn that’s disappointing.”

“What’s so wrong about wanting to pledge?” you replied, “It would just make getting connected the university so much easier. Plus, the parties are legendary.”

“No I get it,” he scowled, “but really? Pi Kappa Epsilon?”

“Listen, they weren’t my first choice either. I would have preferred a group a little less… dim.” I knew he wouldn’t leave it there.

“Dim? Dim still implies some light on upstairs. You can just call them what they are: brainless frat bros. They think with their dicks and muscle their way through academics. I can’t believe you’re asking me to use my power for this.” He began walking towards the door.

I called after, “Look, I’ve seen you do crazier shit than this. You turned the guy upstairs into a dog for a week.”

He stopped in the door frame for a minute to chuckle, “If he was going to call the RA a bitch he may as well get first hand experience.”

“Please dude.” I stared at him.

After a moment he relented, “Fine. But are you sure you want this? You want to change for this? A frat?”

“Yes. And I promise I’ll get you into any party you want!”

“Fine. Give me a bit. But remember, you asked for it.”

He returned in a bit and tossed me a necklace from across the room, “Here’s your frat solution. Wear this to your next thing with them at their house.”

You inspected it. It looked like a basic chain necklace like you had seen other guys wear around “And do what? What does it do?”

He rolled his eyes, “And do nothing. It will help you fit into the frat, I promise.”

“No magic words or anything?” I asked.

He grinned, “Oh come on, think of me as better than needing all that crap. Now put it on so you don’t lose it.”

It fits well around your neck, “I’m headed over there tonight, I think it is the last event before they drop everyone. You sure this will work?”

“Trust me,” he says, “You want in the frat? You will be in the frat.”

When you arrive at the frat house, you do feel the necklace almost pulling you inside. It feels warm against your chest as you wander around, talking with some brothers and checking in with your fellow pledges. You get a sense of magnetism from it, like the necklace is pulling the frat house around it towards you. As the party kicks into gear, you focus less on the chain and more on socializing. But whatever it’s effect, it seems to be working. Brothers and other pledges are seeming to stumble over themselves trying to talk with you. Even the pledge master gives a knowing glance and tilts his head in approval. In a little under two hours, you begin to feel more at home in the house, more comfortable in the crowd. Maybe for the first time you feel a sense of brotherhood. So it is a shock when you step into the bathroom to take a piss and take a look in the mirror.

You don’t recognize the face that stared back. You blinked in confusion, assuming you had too much to drink. But no. The stranger in the mirror stared back into your eyes, copying your every move as you tilted your head and inspected your face in awe. The trance broke as you glanced down and saw the truth. Your polo shirt stretched against your chest as two pectorals firmly pushed out, flexing with each breath. Your pants had grown tight around my quads, now a good few inches short. They hugged your ass so tightly you were surprised they hadn’t ripped. Tattoos flowed down your arms, newly ripped and well toned. You noticed for the first time the power you felt coursing through your veins. You could almost feel your skin taut against your muscles as they slowly swelled. You pulled your top off to get a better look at the action.

‘Damn I look good’ you think as you admire the new cum gutters and still developing 6-pack. You try out a few poses in the mirror, just to see the muscles move. The necklace is no joke. No way PKE would drop you now, you looked like you fit right in. But, at the same time, you figured it may be time to get the necklace off. You didn’t want to change too much, and no telling how far it would go. You go for the back of your neck and and start to fiddle with the clasp when the necklace suddenly starts to warm up.

You feel the odd magnetism is no longer subtle. It feels as though the necklace is pulling against the frat house you, drawing it’s very essence towards you. At the same time, the growth within your body stops as the necklace channels all its energy towards your head. The sudden spike hits like a migraine, as you let go of the necklace and go to hold your temples. The necklace wants to finish its work. Your senses are sharpened to a point, as you feel the heat of the bros downstairs, taste cheap beer and seltzers, hear every footstep, see every muscle and bulge, and smell 100 horny men all at once. You feel the pure energy of the fraternity pull through your body as it shapes you. Beneath the pressure, your mind buckles as false memories push their way in. Memories of watching college football on TV. Working out during the summer to become a fucking stud. Playing the field as soon as you got to college. Meeting up with some brothers to get a foot in the door. Getting called a fuckboi for the first time on Tinder. Wearing it like a badge of pride.

Your brain throbbed as the energy reshaped your memories and personality, but your balls churned as it began to adjust your libido. They ached as they swelled to the size of golf balls. Your cock was rigid at attention as you grabbed it with both meaty hands and started to pump. Your body writhed as every stroke only makes the pleasure more intense. You are soon hot with the effort. An aura of testosterone and sweat formed around you as a frat funk sets in deep: a mixture of booze, yesterday’s workout, and cheap cologne. The smell only drives you more wild, and you start to feel your brain short circuit. Your mind, consumed by pleasure, gave into the pressure and lost any remaining will to resist. The necklace pulsed in time with your throbbing cock as it buried the old you. As you reached climax, you knew there was no going back. As you shot your load across the room, a new you was released. A dumb, horny frat bro ready to pledge PKE.

And then the door behind you opened.

The pledge master, apparently worried by how long you had been in here, walked in on your afterglow as you tucked your cock back into your pants.

“Hey man, you okay?” he asked before recoiling a step. You watched as he smelled your rank funk and nearly gagged. You took a step closer.

“Yeah bro, better than ever. What about you? You look like you’re about to vomit.” you said, leaning in a bit closer. You flex your muscles and let your pit stench join the lingering cloud. You feel yourself start to harden again as he tried not to react.

“Bro, you are fucking rank. You smell like a… like a-”

“Like a frat house should?” you taunted. He had stopped recoiling and seemed now to be fighting a different urge.

“I don’t know bro, you should get- get that looked at.”

His eyes were focused on your muscles as you slowly flexed them rhythmically to the music downstairs. I felt the necklace pulling him closer as he fought the urges he is having. Fuck, you remembered that feeling, that pull towards desire. You knew how to help him out though. You grabbed the back of his head and pulled his lips to your pecs. As his lips connected with your flesh and tasted the beads of sweat that rolled down your chest, he wrapped his arms around you and began worshiping your muscles. As he kissed and licked every inch of your chest and washboard abs, he gently rubbed against your rigid cock. It wasn’t long before he was licking at the fabric separating his mouth from his prize. But as he reached for the elastic band around your waist, you grabbed his hair and pulled him up.

Your mind reveled in in the power you held in your hands and the pleasure your new frat bro could cause with his mouth. But you only had one thing left on you mind:

“I wanna be in the frat bro.” You said.

He mumbled as his mouth still searched for your flesh, “Yeah man, sure thing. I’ll make it happen. You can be a frat bro. Just please let me suck on your-“

“No,” you boomed. You pulled him out of the bathroom and into the nearest bedroom, locking the door behind you. You grabbed his ass as he grew limp in your hands, “I want to be in the frat bro.” You slip your hand beneath his gym shorts and begin slowly finger fucking his tight, straight hole.

He understood his place as he slipped off his shorts and underwear, leaving his cheeks on full display.

He moaned like he was in heat, “Yeah bro. Please. I would be so honored.”

You bent him over and spat in his quivering hole before you pressed your cock against him. You didn’t wait for him to relax as you slammed your cock as deep as you could and watched him yelp in surprise. As you slowly sped up and heard him start to moan, you felt the necklace once again start to warm against my chest as its power flowed through your cock and into the bro beneath you. He too began to sweat with the funk of the frat as was remade in its image under your guidance. He was going to become just as unified with PKE as you were.

[bouncybongfairy]

SugarFreeze

Felix Catton x Fem Reader

Summary: With finals coming up in the next couple of weeks, your relationship with Oliver was falling apart. After spending 5 hours in the library, you run into Felix; who has a dangerous amount of jealousy over your relationship with Oliver. Needing to take this anger out on something, he decides your pussy is the best option.

Word Count: 2.0k

T/W: Hate fucking, Sadism kink, Blood kink. Shout out to @kaionyx who's blog I used as reference!

<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3

Finals were only a couple weeks away and everyone was feeling the stress. Things with Oliver have been stressful and depleting to say the least. He’s been secluding himself due to the stress of finals. You’d been reaching out but it’s like trying to save someone while drowning yourself. Lacking the energy to fight for proper communication the relationship needed to thrive, you’d given up. Taking up the mindset of ‘if he wanted to, he would’ was helping you cope… kinda, not really. You've been studying in the library for almost five hours now, the only reason you stopped is because the librarian locking up for the night. The sun began setting but there was still light outside. You were currently re-reading the Ernesto Quiñonez novel that you’d be analyzing in your English class for the final. Annotating along the way, sticky notes poking out in every direction. Looking back, walking while having your nose buried into a book wasn’t the best idea. Which led to accidentally bumping into someone, sending you stumbling back and the book dropping into a puddle. Scrambling to pick it up, you open the pages and examine the now ruined sticky notes. The pen ink immediately starts to bleed, your eyes swell with tears. Devastated by hours of work, subject to water damage and having no control over it. You looked up to see who was responsible for ruining your day and saw none other than Felix. 

“Sorry about that,” he said, taking a drag off his cigarette.

“It’s whatever,” you huffed, holding back your resentment and anger. 

You did not like Felix, you’d never confront Oliver about this but you were sure they had some type of sexual tension between them. That wasn’t what irritated you, if they had a thing in the past that’s completely fine. However, there were times when you felt like Felix was trying to send you a message. Like when they would get drunk and fight, he would make direct eye contact with you. Sometimes you’d catch them cuddling on the couch or Felix would make sly comments in a ‘joking’ way. He offered you a drag and after the day you had accepted it. Both your dorms were in the same direction and as much as you hated him, it was safer walking back with the company. This led to small talk along the way.

“I don’t know how you’re so relaxed with finals coming up, my minds been in the gutter lately,” you said, taking off your glasses and cleaning them.

“This helps,” he said, pulling out a 12 oz bottle of Everclear 190-proof. 

He offered you a drink and at first you declined. Then you looked back down at your book, looking at the notes that were only getting harder to decipher. Grabbing the bottle you took three confident swings and immediately regretted it as your throat and chest began to burn. Not being a big drinker,  you felt like the wind got knocked out of you. He of course laughed at you for reacting so outwardly, 

“You could barely handle three sips, I'll be taking that,” he said, going to reach for the bottle. 

This made you feel like he underestimated you so of course you took a couple more sips. Shivering at the taste and feeling of the alcohol run down your throat. While you grimaced at the taste and stinging sensation, he took a single swig and then capped the bottle. Putting it in the front pocket of his shorts. The only thing you had for breakfast was coffee and a half a bagel and you were starting to regret that. The liquor began to take its effect, that warm feeling in your stomach was starting to spread throughout your body. By the time you got to your dorm, you were giggling and swaying a bit. Felix helps you maintain balance by holding onto your upper arm and letting you lean against him as you walk. Immediately noticing that his grip was tight, like hurting you a bit. Due to you becoming increasingly more intoxicated you didn’t think it was that deep. He was probably just making sure you didn’t lose balance. 

“Do you like uh- maybe wanna come in or something?” you asked, trying your very best to sound slightly sober. 

“Are you sure?” he asked, still holding your arm as you unlocked the door. His voice sounded sickeningly sweet, leaning up against the door looking down at you. Feeling his breath hit the top of your head made you shiver.

“Yeah is that w-wrong or?” you said starting to feel a bit insecure. 

“Oh no, I just want to make sure you’re comfortable,” you just nodded your head in agreement and opened the door; the fact that he sounded so coherent made you nervous. 

“I’m gonna use the bathroom and change, do you need or can- are you okay waiting for a second?” you asked, throwing your book onto the desk.

“Take your time, no worries,” a weird feeling began to bubble in your stomach. He was never this nice to you, and his tone almost came off as passive aggressive because of how nice it sounded. 

It was when you began to change that you noticed truly how drunk you were. Barely being able to keep balance as you undress. You put on an oversize tee-shirt but as you went to put underwear on, you hesitated. Obviously due to the recent tension in you and Oliver’s relationship, you hadn’t fucked in weeks. You missed that form of stress relief and it was starting to bother you. As much as you disliked Felix, you couldn’t deny how attractive he was. Taking a deep breath you throw the panties into a pile with the rest of the clothes. Checking your appearance in the mirror before walking out. Felix was sitting on the bed, man spreading with his elbows sitting on his knees. When you saw him, your heart started to pound so hard you could feel it in your ears. After examining your appearance, he began to chuckle. This made your face burn from insecurity, you asked him what was so funny and he stood up from the bed before responding. 

“You’re a hypocrite,” he said, still laughing. 

“What..?” you asked, confused and laughing nervously.

“You’re a whore. Are you actually fooling yourself into believing you invited me in for a platonic visit?” he asked, lighting a joint. 

“I don’t- I didn’t..” This wiped the smile right off your face. Your mouth and throat were dry, and your brain couldn’t come up with any coherent sentences. He started walking forwards but you were frozen in place. 

“Look at you, half naked and drunk. You look scared, like a bunny about to be taken by a hawk,” he said, smirking while continuing towards you. 

“I’m not a whore,” you said, tears again starting to sting your eyes. Now feeling ashamed and intimidated. 

“Oh? Oliver has told me some stories that make me think differently. I mean you were just fully dressed and you came back in nothing but a tee-shirt. Flaunting yourself in front of me, in Oliver’s fucking tee-shirt. God you are a piece of work,” he said, at this point he’d backed you against the door. 

Every time he drew a breath in, his lower stomach would just barely touch yours. You looked up at him with tears running down your face. Internally panicking, unable to tell if he was angry or horny. The fact that you were turned on by this made you feel like he was right. Like you were too available but that was a nice way of putting it. Feeling extremely cornered you try and push him back with your shaking arm. He didn’t even sway, only chuckled and took the joint out of his mouth. He took the joint out of his mouth and brought it up against your lips.

“I’ve never..” you began to say but he put the crutch between your lips. You take a long drag, just to cough your lungs out after. He found this reaction very amusing, nearly doubling over in laughter. His reaction turned your insecurity and embarrassment into anger. 

“You can either fuck me or get the fuck out. Seriously you’re making- pissing me off, fuck do you think t-this is?” you asked, voice cracking a bit again unable to hold back your tears. The inability to hide your emotions was making you feel even more vulnerable. He stood up and walked over to where you were pressed against the door. 

“Not until I show you how Oliver should have treated you,” he said, picking you up by your waist and tossing you onto your bed. 

He jumped onto the bed and smashed his lips against yours. This might be shameless to admit but you no longer cared about Oliver or exams or anything else. There wasn’t anything that could take you out of this moment, even the indignity that was developing. The kiss was sloppy and wild, both of you nipping and biting at each other's lips. He started kissing down your neck, lifting your shirt above your head. He raked his nails down both of your sides, stopping at your hips where his nails were breaking skin. He sat up on his knees, practically towering over you. Unbuckling his belt and letting his pants fall just past his crotch, exposing himself. You were shaking with anticipation, the look in his eyes was so feral and primal that it scared you slightly. Blood was slowly trickling down your hips for how hard he was gripping. He runs his hands over the scraps, tracing blood up your sides and up to your chest. You were nervous but more excited, unable to control your trembling body. You’d never had a hookup that was so intense and you couldn’t wait for more. He wrapped his blood stained hands around your throat and brought his lips to your ear,

“Not even wearing panties, thinking with your cunt I see,” he growled, tightening his hands. Moving your arms up to his head and tangling your fingers through the strands. The harder you pulled the stronger his grip became, like it was a game. Your chest was starting to burn as black and white dots appeared in your vision. He didn’t release his grip until one of your hands dropped from his hair onto the mattress. As you were trying to catch your breath, he flipped you over so you were laying on your stomach. He crawled on top, rubbing his shaft against your ass, taking in a sharp gasp in, your pulse quickening. Arching your back, trying to press yourself against his length. He grabs a fist full of your hair, so he could whisper into your ear. 

“You stuck up little cock whore, tell me you don’t deserve him. I wanna hear you say it,” he grunted, rocking against you. Fat tears ran down your cheeks, you wanted to hang on to the last shred of dignity you had but that seemed to be far gone. You whispered it quietly, practically mumbling, In reaction to this he yanked your hair back further. Making you arch your back and an uncomfortable angle. 

“I know you’re fucking stupid but you can hear, I said say it, not whisper into your pillow,” he grunted, you let out a whine and gave into the domination. 

“I don’t fucking deserve him!” you cried out in anger and desperation. 

He then buried himself inside you. Instead of keeping you arched, he drops his body weight onto you. Using both hands to prop himself up on the mattress, one of them was still tangled in your hair. Keeping your head forced against the mattress. He was pounding into you relentlessly, it wasn’t a gradual build up of speed. Just pure animalistic force, his hip bones were piercing into you from how much passion was behind his thrusts. 

“I could tell you needed this, you’re so tight and needy,” he moaned. 

Your stomach was hot and all you could feel was burning pleasure against your walls. It felt so shameful to be enjoying being so overstimulated and degraded, at the same time you’d never felt pleasure in this way. He was breathing so heavily above you, it made your skin prickle with goosebumps. Finally letting go of your hair and using your head to prop himself up to his knees. Grabbing you by the hips so that you were in doggie style. He rubbed his hands over your sides again which stung due to the abrasions caused by his nails. Moving his blood covered hands from the hips to your ass. After smacking his cock against your dripping cunt, he lines himself up and presses into you. The immense pleasure coming from being filled made you go braindead. The only thing you could think about was chasing your orgasm. Like you were in an unbreakable trance. He grabs the roach from your bedside table and relights it while maintaining his brutal pace. Watching your ass smack against his thighs every time he bucked into you was driving him crazy. Keeping the joint in his mouth, he starts spanking the bloody handprints he’s left on you just moments before. He could tell you were getting close by how you were spasming around his length. Still keeping you somewhat on your knees, he reaches up with one hand and grabs both of your wrists. He then uses his shins to hold down your legs. After taking one last drag of the joint he presses the cherry into your lower back right as you begin to orgasm. Immediately you began to recoil in pain but even as bad as it burned, you still rode out the orgasm that you’d so desperately been chasing. Pushing your backside up in the air to meet his pounding as he came. After you are finished, let your body go limp as he rides out his climax. Once he was done, he climbed off you and gathered his clothes. By the time he’d made it out the door, you were already passed out. 

[repulsiveliquidation]

Thorn in My Side || Jessie Fleming

warnings : mentions of injury and surgeries. insinuations of cheating and false accusations. angst. happy ending and smut will be in part two.

summary : you get injured, its Jessie's fault. or so you thought.

a/n : as i type this, i think i've figured out how to incorporate the smut! i'll get to writing as soon as this is posted! i'm not sure if it makes much sense, here's to hoping. enjoy.

“for your UCLA Bruins, number 21, Jessie Fleming!”

Jessie steps forward and smiles, waving to the flood of Bruins fans in the stands cheering them on. You clap with a scowl on your face, watching as the girls in the stands ogle and fawn over her. You’re admittedly jealous of her for reasons unbeknownst to you, but seeing the 5’5’ Canadian made your blood boil.

She was good on the football pitch and was smart to go along with it. Jessie had it all. Being called up for most of her time in school and playing for her national team made her well-known in the soccer world from the moment she was here in America.

She was ferocious on the grass, a fearless midfielder who put everything out there.

The game was a close one, tied at the half 2-2. There were lots of contact, tackles, and battles that made it clear to anyone watching that there was tension between you and Jessie. One always found the other; if one had the ball, the other wanted it.

You had possession, running towards goal. There was a flash of blue and you were on the ground yelling in pain, hands clutching at your ankle. There was a loud pop and your ankle began to swell. The trainers came over and were hauling you off on a stretcher almost immediately, the ref showing Jessie a yellow for the unsafe tackle. It wasn’t a red card because really you fell a little weird and her studs were nowhere near your ankle.

She looked genuinely sorry, taking your hand in hers as you were stretchered off. You were in too much pain to care, shoving her hand out of yours and your teammates pulling her away from you.

A broken ankle was what they said. It was a clean break but you needed surgery and that meant no more soccer for the season.

Just great.

They put you in a wheelchair before you head to the hospital, your parents are already at the stadium to take you. You hear the final whistle blow and your teammate rolls you in, the girls all feeling sad when you tell them the news. There’s a little Bruins blue in the sea of Trojans in front of you and there’s a Canadian standing there digging her cleat into the grass, wanting to apologize.

Megan and Kasey stand beside you just in case things get a little heated. Jessie steps forward and looks more sorry for you when she sees the bandages and you in a wheelchair.

“Is it broken?” she asks genuinely, looking at your leg and then at you.

“No thanks to you,” you snide, rolling your eyes at her. “What do you want now, Fleming?”

“I wanted to apologize, I didn’t mean for this to happen,” she says sincerely but you’re too bitter to hear her take ownership of her actions.

“You knew what you were doing, Fleming. You’ve always been out to get me our entire college career and now in our final year you finally get what you want!”

You don’t know the tears were starting until they did, pouring down your face hot and fast. She looked a little mortified and pale, backing away and saying she was sorry over and over before a sea of Bruins pulled her away to celebrate their win.

The whole car ride to the hospital you spent weeping, thinking about how you’re not going to be able to play your senior year out like you had hoped. But more so of the look of pure horror on Jessie’s face when you accused her of hating you so much that she would purposely hurt you.

She looked on the verge of tears. Like hurting you scared her.  

You scared her.

||

“The break is clean, but rehab will take a while if you’re not careful,” said Dr. Jeff, the attending podiatrist.

“How long?”

“You’re looking at 14 to 16 weeks, kiddo. Two years if you’re stubborn like most of my patients are.”

“16 weeks sounds great.”

“Smart kid you got here,” the doctor tells your parents with a smile, “I’ll schedule you in for surgery today, you should be out of here by the end of the week.”

The doctor leaves and your mother begins to fuss, propping up pillows and getting your nurse to bring you more jello. Your father, on the other hand, has a look of all-knowing on his face.

“I’m sorry Dad,” you begin, head hanging low the moment your mother leaves the room.

“Don’t be sorry, peanut. These things happen. Better now than when you’re on a professional team, yeah?”

“She didn’t really make me break my ankle did she?” you ask, looking up at your dad who was rubbing your back as the tears filled your eyes again.

“It was the perfect tackle, kiddo. You just fell a little funny is all.”

“She looked so horrified when I said she did it on purpose,” you sob, leaning into your father’s stomach. He held you tight and cradled your head, your heart hurting more than your broken ankle, the face Jessie made when the words left your mouth etched behind your eyelids.

||

There are plenty of flowers in your room the moment you wake from surgery. Lots of cards and get well soon balloons hung from the ceiling. You were still groggy when your teammates visited, Megan was sure to bring lots of Sharpies to sign your cast with, all the girls leaving a nice note for you on it.

There was an hour left for visitations and your parents just left to wash up at home. You were mindlessly scrolling through the terrible TV channel selections while finishing your 5th Jello cup when there was a knock on the door.

“Come in!” you yell, thinking it was a nurse coming to check your vitals again. What you didn’t expect was to see a brunette Canadian poking her head through the door.

“Hi,” she said sheepishly, standing by the door unsure if you really would want her to come in.

“What are you doing here?” you ask as kindly as possible, eyes flickering towards the clock above the door, “it’s late, why aren’t you back at school?”

“Spring Break, my parents are down from Canada so I asked to see you before we drove back,” she says quietly, stepping in a little more. “Can I come in?”

You nod, unsure if your mouth would be polite enough. Anger still seethed in your bones but the look of sheer horror on her face was still fresh in your mind.

“How bad was it?” she begins, still standing near the now-closed door.

“Clean break, should take 16 weeks if I’m careful.”

“That’s good. The doctors here are great.”

“They are quite convincing, they know how to get a patient to stay on their medical plan.”

“Did you get Dr. Jeff?”

“He accused me of being stubborn.”

Jessie laughs and you smile, a light blush creeping up your cheeks. It’s an adorable sound and her face of laughter replaces the one of fear you had burned into your mind.

“I’m really sorry for all this,” she begins but you cut her off.

“It wasn’t your fault, my dad said it was a clean tackle. I just fell funny.”

You looked up at her and saw the relief on her face and she stepped forward, taking your hand in hers. You took a deep breath and reciprocated her ownership of her mistakes, feeling the weight lift off your shoulders the moment you looked her in the eyes.

“I shouldn’t have said what I said the other day Jessie, that was not fair to you.”

“Heat of the moment love, don’t worry about it.”

Your heart clenches hard when the pet name slips out of her lips and you smile, hoping she didn’t see your eyes dilate and feel your skin warm up. She nods and bids goodbye just as her phone rings which tells you her parents are waiting outside.

You sit there giddy and a little starstruck as she disappears out of view. Your hand is warm from her touch and you can still feel her hand holding yours. You thump your head back and curse loudly, before grabbing your leg in pain temporarily forgetting that you were actually hurt.

You giggle and bite your lip, shaking your head when your phone dings.

Maybe: Jessie Fleming.

“You look cute when you’re flustered.”

You clap a hand to your mouth and smile, face heating up with a dark blush.

“You did this, you better fix it.”

“I think we can make that happen, love.”

You don’t think you slept much that night, texting till the sun came up. Your parents came in to check on you in the morning and found you with your phone still on call with Jessie but you two were asleep. You woke up to your doctors talking to your parents and discussing your rehab plan. There was another text from Jessie, making your heart skip a beat.

“You’re also very cute when you’re sleeping.”

Over the next few weeks, you two talked constantly. Jessie kept you company when you were bored at rehab and you kept her company while she was training on her own. You called her every night before bed, giggling and laughing well into the night most nights.

“How is rehab coming along?” Jessie asked as you were lying back on the examination table to relax your ankle. She was in her bed, looking as stunning as you had been denying yourself the chance to admit.

“Good, looks like I can put pressure on it by next week if Tiff lets me,” you say, side-eyeing your trainer Tiffany who was doing cupping on another teammate’s back.  

“Girl, I will hold your papers hostage, don’t test me,” Tiffany jokes, waving the lit fire stick at you.

“Yes ma’am I’ll be super-duper extra careful!” you answer with a salute, making Jessie laugh so loud it rings through the room. Most of your teammates know the thing you’ve got going with her and think it’s cute.

All but one.  

Megan.

She stood at the door listening to you ramble on about Jessie this and Jessie that, her blood boiling at the thought of you being buddy-buddy with the girl she believed to be the one who hurt you.

Megan was a freshman who was from Florida. She was a great pick from her high school team, and the best defender on the East Coast. She made the team here at USC and to say the least, she fit right in.

There was homogeny that wasn’t there before she joined and the linkup between you and her helped you take her under your wing. She looked up to you and was so ecstatic to play with you after watching you on TV.

She felt that Jessie took away her only chance to play with you before you graduated.

Jessie needed to pay.

“Hey, weird question,” Jessie starts, one night while you two were tucked in bed and on the phone with each other.

“Yeah?” you ask, turning over onto your side. Jessie looked a little concerned but you shrugged it off, the girl was known to constantly look worried.

“Someone sent me this photo but it’s from an unknown number, I thought it was weird.”

Sent.

You looked at it in shock.

It was you. Kissing a girl on the basketball team.

“Jess this isn’t me.”

“I’m not blind you know, that’s you.”

“Jessie, I swear this was doctored! I’ve never talked to this girl, let alone fucking kissed her!”

“Then why did the fucking photo come with a text that said, “She’s not who you think she is,”?”

“I don’t know! No one else but the girls know about you and me! I promise Jessie please!”

“I need some time to think. Leave me alone.”

She hangs up.

The tears fill your eyes as you stare at this photo. You don’t even think you’ve crossed paths with this girl, having not been the biggest fan of basketball. But your face was clearly there and hers was too. Her lips were on yours and you looked like you were enjoying yourself.

You think and you think hard. You didn’t go to any parties lately with your leg and you haven’t been to any games of theirs. You stared at the photo for hours, wracking your brain for some kind of explanation.

An explanation as to why Jessie looked so hurt at the thought of you with someone else.

[grandline-fics]

I love love loooooove your work! If I may, I'd love to request a little friends to lovers scenario with Ace ❤️‍🔥 perhaps with a bit of meddling from the crew, perhaps with a hint of a drinking game/drunken flirting? No matter what, I'm sure I'll love whatever you write as much as I've loved everything else so far 🥰 Hope you have a wonderful day!

DESCRIPTION: Tired of you being 'just friends' some of the crew decide to interfere to get you both together

WARNINGS: Nothing, just the fluff that comes with the friends-to-lovers prompt

CHARACTERS: Ace

WORDS: 1,590

A/N: I honestly don't know where I was going with this half the time but I really hope it's to your liking and fits what you were looking for. Thank you for the request!

*REQUESTS ARE OPEN*

DIRECTORY | PROMPT LIST

———————

From the day you and Ace met on the deck of the Moby Dick, your friendship was instantaneous and unshakable. After a week the crew had made bets on when you two would finally get together. Sadly for all of them, they were all unable to cash in on their guesses because still after all this time the two of you had yet to see the obvious. As far as you and Ace were considered the two of you were best friends and absolutely failed to see how utterly perfect you both were for the other. It was infuriating for the crew to see both you and Ace hook up with people on evenings the ship docked at an island. It annoyed them even more so to see that neither you or Ace would become in anyway jealous of those evenings. It wasn’t long before a new bet began to circulate around the crew about how long it would take for you and Ace to finally see what everyone else saw. Some were beginning to believe it was a lost cause for you both. Others however weren’t going to let that happen.

One evening you were sat on the railing of the ship, your back against Ace’s side with your head relaxed against his shoulder as you stared out at the ocean. This was your usual spot with Ace, one neither of you questioning how intimate it seemed as to the both of you it was just comfortable. Besides Ace was a naturally affectionate person so it wasn’t out of the ordinary for him to do this with anyone in the crew, it was just coincidence that you were the one he sought out most of all because you two were practically joined at the hip. Keeping your eyes on the calm waves you wordlessly took the slice of apple as it was being held out to you on the tip of Ace’s knife. As you finished chewing, the ship hit a rogue swell of the wave and lurched forward. Because you weren’t expecting it you tumbled forward, almost being knocked overboard. Thankfully you were saved by Ace’s arm bracing around your waist and pulling you back to safety.

“My hero.” You grinned up at Ace playfully, swooning fully into his arms as his laughs joined yours.   Your moment together was interrupted when Marco called for Ace. You yelped when he adjusted his hold on you and hauled you up onto his shoulder as he stood on the railing before jumping down onto the deck. Ace approached Marco who stared at you both with a practiced neutral expression. He was one of the members of the crew who was waiting for you and Ace to get together. This arrangement wasn’t anything new for Marco so he brought Ace into a conversation about the individual Division tasks needed to be done when they docked at the next island. Through it all you merely continued to be draped on Ace’s shoulder, enjoying being carried about the place. Just as you were getting comfortable in the position Izou called your name. With a sigh you expertly disentangled yourself from Ace’s hold while Ace also helped you back onto your feet, maintaining eye contact and his conversation with Marco through it all, his actions practically as natural as breathing. The sickening display of synchronicity only furthered Marco’s resolve that enough was enough. 

“Um, excuse me?” Izou and Marco turned to see a woman approach them not long after they all settled into the tavern. “I don’t want to make a fool of myself but that man over there. Is he single  or is he-” She moved to love over her shoulder at Ace but stopped when she saw you were now at his table, pulled onto his lap due to a lack of seats. “Oh…never mind. They’re a cute couple.” Together Marco and Izou shared a look and grinned. 

“This next round is on the house in honour of the newlyweds!” A voice shouted out from the bar. You and Ace cheered out with the entire bar at the prospect of free drinks, looking up in happiness in hopes of seeing who the married couple were but you couldn’t see them. It was a large building and already filled with groups. When Marco and Izou appeared with the drinks you sat forward in Ace’s lap to reach for your mug only to be stopped when Marco leant in to you both. “Thanks for the free drink you two-yoi.” He grinned before taking his seat. 

“Wait…what?” You laughed out slightly, glancing over your shoulder to see the bar owner smiling at you and Ace. Quickly you forced yourself to smile back and quickly turn your head back to Marco while Ace looked just as bewildered. “What made him think we were married?”

“That’d be my doing.” Izou answered smoothly, hiding his disbelief that even with you literally in Ace’s lap with his arm around your waist that either of you would find someone believing you two to be a couple to be confusing. “Marco bet me that I couldn’t wrangle free drinks from the barman and well, who can resist a couple of newlyweds?” 

The lie came from the Division Commander so cleanly and with such ease that you and Ace couldn’t even find anything in his demeanour to make you doubt his words. Together you and Ace shared a look, momentarily tense as you now really noticed your seating arrangement. Unable to help himself, Izou added more fuel to the fire. “I hope you two can convince him you’re actually a couple otherwise we could find ourselves in trouble. Remember we promised Pops we’d be on our best behaviour tonight.”

“Please,” you scoffed leaning back to settled against Ace’s chest and reached back to lightly cup Ace’s jaw while Ace tightened his hold around you, leaning into your touch. The both of your met Izou’s stare with mirrored confident smirks, never backing down from a dare. “There’s no way he’ll doubt us. Right sweetheart?”

“You got that right babe.” He chuckled before quickly pecking a kiss against your cheek making you laugh. Grinning, Ace placed another kiss against your cheek to draw another laugh out of you, finding this game to be enjoyable. He paused however when someone started to chant ‘Kiss’ at you both, drawing more and more voices into the chant until it was all you two could hear. 

Clearing your throat you turned in Ace’s hold until you were properly facing him, your hand remaining against his jaw while your other hand settled on his shoulder. You both met each other’s stare evenly and filled with trust and playfulness. To you both this was just a skilful ruse to avoid the owner of the bar from getting suspicious that you were both merely friends. Leaning in you let your breath ghost over his lips for just another brief enticing moment before the distance was closed and your lips met to the sound of whooping and whistles of the excited patrons. Not that either you or Ace were paying attention to the outside noise. 

All you two could focus on was the magnetic pull of each other, the kiss too dizzying and intoxicating to just stop right away but slowly and reluctantly you both parted. Sheepishly you both smiled at the other, eyes flickering down to the lips you couldn’t help but want to taste again. Both you and Ace didn’t truly know what to make of what had just happened but you knew something certainly had happened. Something that while it had been started because of a silly game, was something very real. Smiling softly, you turned in his hold to grab your drink and pass Ace his too, settling against him once more. Regardless of the kiss you felt no different in his arms, it still felt like security and home. A small smile played on your lips as you felt Ace’s hand remain on your hip and let his cheek rest against your head, showing he too didn’t feel uncomfortable with what just happened. 

When the crew began to scatter about the bar you felt Ace’s nose lightly nudge your cheek to get your attention and you turned your head slightly to meet his stare. Even with the alcohol in his system he still held a bright sharpness in his gaze. “I don’t know about you but that was one of the best kisses of my life…”

“Well it’s because of my kisses that you proposed, surely?” You teased before settling your hand on his arm that kept you anchored against him. “But seriously…yeah. One hell of a kiss.”

“I feel like if I ask for another it definitely wouldn’t be because we need to convince someone we’re together. It’ll be because I want us to be together.”

“So we’d have gotten married first, had our first kiss second, and now start dating third? A pretty weird order to do things.” You laughed, sitting up to wrap your arms around Ace’s neck and let your lips inch closer to his. “But you know what? It doesn’t feel weird at all.”

Ace nodded in agreement before eagerly closing the space against you once more to kiss you insistently and more heated than the previous kiss. 

Against the bar, Marco slid the large bundle of money over to the bar owner to cover the round of drinks that had been claimed as ‘free.’ “Worth every penny-yoi.”

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

TAG LIST (If I've missed anyone or if you want to be added just let me know) @3v37773, @tsaaps , @i-am-all-love-puns-and-lazy , @sanemisnonexistenteyebrow , @fiery-captain-spider-santa @kabloswrld , @atanukileaf

[1427]

something to prove pt 2

Daryl Dixon x Reader

Summary: Every time your mom goes down to the city with Merle she lets Daryl stay behind and watch TV.  

Warnings: Very vaguely implied drug use, age-gap (reader is 20, Daryl is mid30s), smut, voyeurism/exhibitionism, masturbation (both m & f), hand stuff, squirting. 

Word Count: 2k

A/n: sorry this isn’t as spicy as the first one but. Idk. I also feel like y’all are gonna kill me if I don’t make a part that has Daryl actually get some. But. Idk.

17+ mdni

\\part 1\\

masterlist

You touch yourself in front of Daryl almost every time he comes over and your mom leaves the house. Finding him in the same spot, the remote on his knee, waiting for you. Head turned to the side as he chews at his thumb, looking at you out of the corner of his eye. His other knee anxiously bouncing. Sometimes he’s smoking, other times he’s not. 

You notice all of these things because you notice everything in those moments right before you play with yourself for him. Every time you’re alone in your room you’d wish you had the courage to actually talk to him. Maybe touch him? Anything. Everything about him made you burn. And yet you kept an aching distance. Three feet away, and on the floor. Never any closer. 

Eventually Daryl and Merle lose whatever living arrangements they’d had and your mom invites them to crash in the living room. 

This doesn’t change anything between you and Daryl. There’s more lingering stares exchanged but you still don’t really speak. Especially in front of your mom and Merle. They never seem to notice the tension that’s wrapped itself around the two of you, hanging in the air. This very dirty secret you and Daryl indulged in every time they leave. 

Luckily you didn’t share the space with them often. Only ever escaping your room to eat, leave the house, or put on a show for Daryl when they’d inevitably travel to the city every few days. 

You’ve been gearing yourself up to do something more, but what? It takes you a week to decide and then another week to actually work up the nerve to do it.

You wait for Daryl to fall asleep. For some reason you know if he watches you come down the stairs, observes you walking up to him, you’d end up wimping out. So you wait for him to be asleep, 3am should do it, and then you wait a little longer. 

With every step down the stairs your heart beats harder. You feel out of your body, just barely there as your feet make small but deliberate steps toward Daryl, asleep sitting up in the arm chair. Until suddenly you’re back in your body, standing over him. 

You use your leg to jostle against his, causing him to stir. Waiting until his sleepy eyes open and meet yours. Too late to back out now, basically on top of him. But you’re frozen in place, you can’t make your mouth say the words that you’d practiced a hundred times. The words screaming in your head. 

You’re both just staring at each other. Daryl’s obviously waiting for you to speak, or do something. But he doesn’t mind just staring at you. He doesn’t mind the waiting. After all, his favorite times are when you’re in front of him - and you’re in front of him now.

He doesn’t usually get to see this side of you. The front. Your face. The light of the TV is all blues and pinks and something inside Daryl swells. A warm gush of longing from his chest into his throat. Prickling at his skin. Not just longing to touch you, but something more. Something else. He doesn’t even want to speak, he’s enjoying just watching the colors dance across your cheeks and nose and the almost tangible warmth of the moment. 

You’re out of your body again, but you hear yourself say it, “Will you touch me this time?” 

Daryl’s been waiting for this. He’s thought about it so many times, in so many different ways. Wondering, seemingly ever free second of the day, when you were going to take it further. And how. He’s grateful that this is what you’d asked for, instead of maybe asking him to fuck you. He couldn’t do that. He could, but he doesn’t think he’d be able to. Doesn’t think he’d be able to even pull his cock out in front of you without passing away, and going to hell. 

He swallows and nods while still looking up at you. His eyes move along with his fingertips, his right hand grabbing your left wrist and moving you to sit back in his lap. 

You perch on him. Leaning back to place your feet on either one of his knees. Spreading your legs like this felt more lewd than you’d imagined it would, but because he’s behind you you’re not embarrassed by it, and you’re not shy about it. It snares something deep inside you, that even though your t-shirt is mostly covering your wet heat you're still so very out in the open. 

Daryl snakes one arm around your waist and the other between your legs, but he doesn’t touch you there yet. He wants to feel all the way up your leg from the knee. To see how much and how far you’d dripped down your thighs while you were standing there staring at him. 

His fingers get slick about halfway up your leg and it takes everything in him not to put them in his mouth immediately. He’s been dying to taste you since that day. The first one. You never wipe your hand on him like the first time and he wants you to so badly, every time. And every time his voice gets caught in his throat and he doesn’t. 

And now your sweet tangy mess was coating his fingertips. Your muscles are tense, the feeling of his digits slowly creeping closer to your center. Your chest rises and falls rapidly, “Please. Help.. me.” You whine, edging your hips forward just a little, using your feet to leverage. But the arm he has wrapped around your waist pulls you back flush against him. That’s when you feel him for the first time. Hard and digging into your ass cheek. A low groan escapes his lips, and he holds you even tighter. 

Daryl leans his forehead against the back of your shoulder, trying to pull himself together a little bit. You asked for his help, for him to touch you. But he’s so nervous, what if he does it wrong? He’s watched you so many times that even if he hadn’t known how to get a woman off before, he certainly knew how to get you off now. Still, he worries. Afraid he’s going to fuck it up. 

Finally, his middle finger slides down the center of your arousal. Running over your clit, down to your hole, and back. You can feel the nervousness in his touch, the anticipation that’d been building up in him for months. You whimper, looking down your body to watch his hand as it gets acquainted with your cunt. God, is this what you looked like when he watched you? Your pussy swollen with desire, sopping wet, and visibly trembling? It was so deliciously vulgar. 

His fingers slip around your folds, like yours do when you’re too wet like this. You whine, even though he’s touching you it’s not enough. Or, rather, it’s only making it worse without the pressure to accompany such touches. He gives up on trying to spread your lips to delicately and masterfully work your clit, the way he’s watched you do, and instead rubs your whole messy pussy with three of his fingers. Pressing against your mound hard. This elicits a deep groan from you, one that you can already feel building into a scream. Nothing you’ve ever experienced has felt like this.

He rubs around in the mess while you still watch from above. It doesn’t take long for your hips to start shaking uncontrollably. Whimpering and groaning you start to feel that hunger again. The insatiable one, needing something inside of you. He waits until you say, “P-please.” Your hips trying to move into his hand, but he keeps his grip on you so tight that your stuck in place. On his lap and at his mercy. 

Daryl wants to make you wait, wants to ask you to say please again. Wants to hear you beg in every language so that he’d have more words to remember falling out of your mouth like this. But he can’t control himself either. He’s been imagining what your walls would feel like contracting around his fingers for so long. It’s all he fuckin’ thinks about anymore. 

White hot. You feel his fingers all the way up to the knot in your throat and you choke on it. Each time he curls his two fingers, you feel it like a pang in your lungs, knocking the wind out of you. Daryl can’t stop, pressing into that spot of you, your breath hitching in your throat over and over. Your pussy clenches every time, he scissors his fingers as he pulls them out of you, to see those juicy lips stretch out around them. He needs more. Wants to fill you up until you burst. “More?” Is all he can manage to ask. 

You nod feverishly, your muscles moving against every pressure, your hips practically vibrating on top of him. Daryl swallows and readies a third finger, shoving all three thick digits into your greedy cunt without any hesitation. 

“Sh-shit.” You choke out, completely overwhelmed by the feeling. Daryl has to hold onto you so tightly, that one arm isn’t enough.  With three fingers deep inside you, he closes his palm tight to your mound and holds onto you like that. Like the inside of you is a handle he’s latched his fingers into to lock you on top of him. And the way your ass slides back over his cock is too much. He has to do it again. 

He rocks you back and forth. Pushing you down by your pelvic bone with him hooked inside you and over his clothed rage. It’s amazing. The way his palm pushes and rubs against your clit again and again, the way he’s moving your body against him. Pushing you and pulling over his hard cock by your cunt. He’s afraid maybe he’s hurting you, but your body tells him that he’s not. He’s never seen someone so let go from their inhibitions before. No one’s ever shown them this side of themselves for him. He loves it. 

You think you're about to orgasm, the sight alone is enough, but it doesn’t come. It just keeps building. Deep in your stomach, all the way up your spine. Down to your toes curling into his thighs. And it keeps building. You’ve never experienced something like this, it almost scares you. 

Daryl can tell that you’re close, every single muscle is strained against him. He’s using everything he’s got to keep you on his lap, his arm muscles taut and rigid around your writhing body. 

Your orgasm pushes out of you in a scream, your pussy gushing. Warm squirt jetting out from your body and all over Daryl’s hand. All over the floor. Your legs shake, your feet bouncing into the air and spasming completely out of control. 

He just holds you for a moment, his muscles still flexed around you. He keeps his fingers inside. Relishing in and memorizing each time your pussy pulsates around him, until it stops. Finally he loosens his grip and pulls away. 

The emptiness almost makes you want to cry, especially after such an orgasm. You’d never done that before. You didn’t know you could. You don’t want Daryl to see you cry, to get the wrong idea. Plus, what? Were you guys going to talk afterward? You never had before. No… it was over. And you had to go lest winding up a sobbing mess on the floor in front of him. On top of your own cum. 

So you leave him. Falling away from his body delicately. Feeling the cold air on your legs makes you feel even emptier. You still bounce away, jogging up the stairs like you always do. 

And Daryl watches you go, no wiser to the fact that you were somehow upset. Not upset, overwhelmed. Over sensitive. Over… everything. Every emotion was too much. 

His hand that’s covered in you has been hanging off the side of the arm chair, waiting for you to disappear. He’s been trying to decide if he wants to lick every drop from his hand while he jerks off with the other, or to use your juice as lubricant. He decides to do the former. Savoring every tangy morsel he can until there’s nothing left; even though he came when he was on the second finger. 

A/n: actually nah, there’s gonna be another part prob. 

[javierpena-inatacvest]

Kicking

Summary: The past few weeks of your pregnancy, Baby Peña number 2 has been kicking you non-stop. Javi tries his best to help you relax and give you some relief.

Word Count: 3.4K

Pairing: Dad!Javier Peña x Wife!reader (Reader's nickname is Osita, no use of y/n)

Warnings: SMUT (18+) unprotected p in v sex, pregnancy sex, vaginal fingering, oral (f receiving) creampie, praise kink, breeding kink (give this man a football team), pregnancy hormones, Javi being the best dad/husband (idk what to tell you guys, he is truly the best)

A/N: This was inspired by an ask I got from an anon a while back, and the Dad!Javi brainrot has been unstoppable the past few days and I missed our sweet little family so here we are again 🤪 I love the Peña's more than life itself!!! Thank you @endlessthxxghts for proofreading and letting me harass you with my endless Dad!Javi thots ILY 😩💕

Series Masterlist Never Too Late Masterlist

“Ouch, that one hurt. You are relentless, aren’t you?” You whispered down to your belly, setting down the dishes you were washing down next to the sink as you rubbed at your slowly swelling stomach. While you had very quickly remembered all the strange and painful sensations of growing a tiny human inside you throughout your second pregnancy, baby number two was definitely giving you a run for your money. Lucy had been easy- The occasional kick or bump, her movement enough to make you feel relieved and excited, but never enough to make you feel miserable. Even though you were still only 6 months pregnant, you were convinced that Baby Two was going to come out as a triple threat soccer star, football kicker and boxer, because their movement day in and day out for the last few weeks had been constant. 

“You okay, Hermosa?” With your daughter Lucy hoisted on his hip, Javi paused from helping you to put away the rest of the dishes to turn around towards you, his brow scrunching in concern at the pained look growing across your face as you rested your hand on your stomach. 

“Otay Mommy?” Lucy asked, mimicking Javi, making the two of you let out a little laugh, enough to ease you back to washing the dishes you had set down before Baby Peña had started their 15th boxing round of the day in your stomach. 

“I’m okay.” You smiled up at Javi, who had made his way behind you, wrapping his free arm around your waist as you stood at the sink, still holding Lucy in the other. “Baby Tutu really likes to kick Mommy’s belly a lot.” You sighed, responding to your daughter, even though the comment was more intended for Javi. 

“Baby Tutu!” Lucy beamed at the new nickname she had given her baby sibling, after you and Javi had been referring to them as “Baby Two”, which had quickly turned into “Baby Tutu”, after Lucy had begun babbling it around the house. 

Javi frowned, rubbing his hand along the small of your back before leaning down to kiss you on the forehead, feeling guilty at how uncomfortable you had been recently, despite how hard you had tried to power through it. “Mama and Baby Tutu are gonna go lay down and me and you are gonna finish the dishes and get ready for bed, Lil Miss.” It was now Javi’s turn to reply, talking to you through Lucy to try and insist that you go take a break before you pushed yourself too hard and felt even worse. 

“Jav, it’s fine, you made dinner and I-” 

“Lucy Goosey and I are more than capable of cleaning up and getting ready for bedtime while Mommy gets some well deserved relaxing time, aren’t we, Lucy?” Javi smiled, giving Lucy a little raspberry on her belly, making her squeal and grin in delight as she flapped her arms in Javi’s grasp. “I’ve got her, don’t worry.” Giving your hip a little squeeze, Javi gave you a reassuring nod, almost insisting that you go give yourself a break to at least soothe Baby Two’s fight club antics in the comfort of your bed. 

“Thank you, Jav.” You smiled, letting out a relieved sigh, your pregnancy hormones causing your eyes to well with thankful tears for your amazing and understanding husband. 

“Of course, Osita. We’re gonna say goodnight to Momma, okay Lucy? Can you say, goodnight Momma, we love you?” Javi cooed at Lucy, prompting her to give you a little wave goodbye as you reached up to pepper a few kisses across her rosy cheeks as she giggled. 

“Night night, Momma. Wuv you!” Lucy babbled, reaching out towards you for a hug as you sandwiched her between you and Javi, giving her and Javi one last kiss before you trudged your way across the house and up the stairs towards your bedroom. 

Even though you were thankful for Javi taking care of Lucy’s bedtime routine for the night, it hadn’t eased Baby Peña’s soccer tournament in your stomach in the slightest. Even after slipping on one of Javi’s oversized shirts and your pajama shorts, tucking yourself into bed and throwing on the TV to watch the Dallas Stars game that had just started, you could not get anywhere close to comfortable, tossing and turning in your bed, trying your best not to curse in frustration at your incredibly active baby. 

“How ya doin’, Momma?” Javi asked, gently closing the bedroom door behind him seemingly finished with putting Lucy down for bed as he began to strip out of his work clothes and into his cotton sleep shorts, tossing the dirty items in the hamper before crawling into bed next to you. 

“Your child better grow up to be the next David Beckham.” You groaned, sitting up on your pillows to look over at Javi, with a sympathetic smile spread across his face. 

“My kid, huh?” Javi chuckled, laying his hand over your stomach, gently rubbing circles with his thumb against the worn fabric of his shirt you were wearing. “If my kid grows up to be the next David Beckham, I will gladly take all the credit.” 

The two of you laughed as you gave Javi a playful shove, rolling your eyes at his joke only to be interrupted by another sharp kick to your side, making you wince uncomfortably. “Ugh, yes, you can get all the credit if you can convince your child to stop bruising my internal organs.” You half grumbled, half laughed, as you readjusted yourself to lay down on your side, now face to face with Javi. “Lucy was never this active, especially this early. I have a feeling we’re gonna have our hands full with this one.” 

“A handful just like her Momma.” Javi smiled, snaking his hand under the hem of your shirt to rest his palm against your skin, running his hand back and forth over your belly. 

“I don’t know, Jav. I really think this one is a boy.” You huffed, bracing yourself again as another punch landed underneath Javi’s hand, making his face light up, always enamored to feel the baby moving in your stomach, even though you weren’t quite feeling the same. 

“I’ll be happy with whatever they are, but I’ll be even happier if they stop trying to hurt their mamá, huh bebito (little baby)?” Javi cooed, leaning over to press a soft kiss on your stomach. “Déjela relajarse, por favor mi amorcito (Let her relax, please my little love).” 

Even though this pregnancy didn’t have as much in common with your first one as you would have hoped, if there was one similarity they shared, it was that something about hearing Javi’s voice made your babies relax instantly. Not only did it make your heart absolutely melt every single time, but you also couldn’t have been more thankful that Javi’s sweet sounds were able to bring you some much needed relief.  

“Nosotros te amamos mucho Chiquitita, pero su papá necesito ayudar a su mamá relajarse también. (We love you so much, little one, but your dad needs to help your mom relax too). And I would prefer it if you weren’t kicking her while I did it.” Javi smirked, slowly trailing his hands and kisses down your stomach, shooting you a quick wink. 

“Javi!” You playfully scolded, giving him a little shove as he scooted his body down the bed, coming face to face with your heat as he ran his hands up and down the soft skin of your thighs, his fingers tugging at the waistband of your sleep shorts. 

“You gonna let me help you relax, Hermosa?” Javi mewled, placing languid kisses along the inside of your legs, carefully helping to raise your hips to pull your shorts and underwear off your hips, tossing them to the floor. You let out a content sigh as you leaned your head back against your pillow, feeling Javi’s fingers slide through your folds, collecting the arousal that had already been pooling between your legs since the moment Javi had laid down next to you. 

You had gotten to the point in your pregnancy where you were insatiably horny all the time and much to Javi’s delight, he was more than happy to help you with your problem however and whenever he could, even though you had to be a little more strategic (and quiet) this time around with Lucy in the house. Despite the constant kicking that had quite literally been a pain in your side the past few weeks, it was almost like Javi could sense how worked up and needy you were and couldn’t help but feel a little satisfied that he was the only thing that could cure the constant ache between your legs. 

Javi nudged your knees open, letting them fall to the sides as he pressed the pads of his fingers against your clit, the sensation making you let out a whimper you tried your best to silence by biting down on your lip. “So wet for me, sweet girl. Gonna take good care of you, Momma. You deserve it. Gotta keep quiet for me though, okay?” 

You nodded frantically as Javi easily slid two fingers into your dripping heat, slowly pumping in and out of you as you felt the heat of his breath hovering over your cunt before he licked a long, broad strip through your folds, already making you instinctively buck your hips towards his face. 

Javi hooked his free arm around one of your thighs, holding you in place as he began to lap you up, each stroke of his tongue slow and methodical as his fingers began to curl inside you, pressing into the sweet spot that he knew all too well would make you fall apart around him. 

You couldn’t help but feel your bottom half squirm against your sheets, reaching down to tug at the dark curls of Javi’s hair, trying to find any sort of relief to keep from being a loud, moaning and whimpering mess as his tongue worked along your cunt, lapping you up like a man starved. His mouth latched along your clit, sucking at your sensitive bundle of nerves as his fingers pumped inside you, making the tingle at the base of your spine already begin to build in a needy desperation. 

“Javi, holy fuck- oh my god baby, don’t stop, please don’t stop.” You whimpered, somehow managing to keep your voice just above a whisper as Javi pulled away to respond, still keeping a steady pace with his hand as he felt your pussy start to flutter around his fingers. 

“I won’t stop baby, you can let go for me, Osita. I’ve got you.” 

With that, he was back between your legs, relentlessly working along your heat with his mouth as the the coil in your belly wound so tightly, you were on the brink of snapping. 

“Javi, Javi, Javi, oh shit- Fuck, fuck, I’m gonnaahhhhhhhhh.” 

With that, your orgasm flooded through your body, pleasure spreading through every inch of you as you clenched around Javi’s fingers, soaking his hand and face with your arousal as you came, using every fiber of your being to keep from screaming out his name as you reached your high. 

“Shhhhhh, that’s it, Hermosa.” Javi smirked, squeezing his fingers into the meat of your thigh as you rode out your orgasm, trying to help you keep quiet. Javi peeked his head back up as your breathing began to even out, your chest rising and falling in satisfaction as his kisses began to travel back up your body, stopping at your neck to take extra time to nip along your jawline, his teeth tugging at your earlobe as his voice rasped against your skin. 

“Such a good girl for me, Osita. So fucking wet. Fuck, I need to feel you, baby. Can I?” 

You nodded rapidly, feeling how hard he already was under his sleep shorts, his erection tenting the cotton fabric and staining it with his precum. “Yes, oh my god, please.” You moaned under your breath, pulling him in for an electric kiss, your mouths meeting with a passionate intensity. 

“How do you want me, Hermosa?” He asked, breaking from your kiss. You had gotten to the point in your pregnancy that you were limited on options, which was never a problem since Javi had no problem making you feel incredible however the two of you fucked. Even with how horny you were, and any position would have been fine, Javi was always adamant that you being comfortable was the most important, and would let you call the shots. 

“Can you spoon me? I’m not gonna lie, being punched in the gut all day has me exhausted, I’m too tired to get on top. Sorry, that is like, the most unsexy thing to say but-” 

“Hey, I’ll do whatever you want, Osita. And it is fucking sexy because you’re growing our future soccer star.” He teased, cradling your face in his hand, pressing a soft kiss on your lips as you laughed, rolling your eyes. 

“They better be a star after all the grief they’ve caused me.” 

“I’m being serious though, baby. You know I think you are the most beautiful woman on the face of this earth, but seeing you all gorgeous and pregnant? Carrying our baby again? Fuck me, that’s the sexiest fucking thing I’ve ever seen.” Javi beamed, peppering kisses down your body as he helped you to lay down on your side, gently lifting your legs to put one of his pillows under your knees to prop them up. Javi shuffled his shorts down his legs, kicking them off the side of the bed before scooting behind you on his side, reaching down to stroke himself a few times as he lined up with your entrance, running his cock through your folds and collecting your slick as he caged his chest against your back. “You gonna let me prove to you how fucking perfect you are? Show you how much I love my beautiful fucking wife?” 

You could feel his tip begin to slowly press inside your heat, easily sliding in from how wet you were, working his way deeper, taking his time as he buried himself in your cunt inch by inch until he bottomed out, the sweet sting of his fullness making you moan with no regard for your volume. 

“Shhhhhhh, I know baby, I know. You gotta keep quiet for me. Don’t wanna wake up Lucy.” Javi rasped in your ear, draping his arm over your body, letting his hand run up and down your side to try and soothe you before he kept going. “Promise you’re gonna be a good girl and keep quiet?” 

“Mhhmmmm, please, I promise, I need you Javi.” You whimpered, grinding your bottom half back into Javi, desperate for him to keep going. 

“Jesus Christ- fuck, I need you too, Hermosa.” Javi grunted through gritted teeth, slowly pulling out before pressing back into your pussy, taking his sweet time as he savored every stroke. “So fucking wet for me, Osita.” 

So wet, that all you could hear in your room was the lewd noises of Javi thrusting in and out of you over your muted moans you were trying to keep contained as you bit down on your tongue. 

Each snap of his hips felt deeper than the last, the sweet sting of his stretch making you absolutely lose your mind as he punched against your g-spot at a slow and savory pace, pressing languid kisses along your neck and shoulder as the hot breath of his words hit your skin. 

“I love you so fucking much, Osita. I’m so fucking lucky. You’re so perfect. Perfect wife, perfect mom to our daughter, perfect all pregnant and carrying our baby. Can’t wait until I can fuck another baby into you.” As if him whispering into your ear as he fucked into with an intensity and passion that had you reeling, Javi reached his hand around your front, the pads of his fingers meeting your throbbing clit, making you lose all control as a ragged moan escaped from your lips. 

Javi’s hand immediately shot up to your mouth, carefully covering it before you got any louder, now trying his best to keep from groaning as he tried to keep you quiet. “I know Hermosa, fuck- fuck, we gotta stay quiet, baby.” Javi convincing himself just as much as he was convincing you, his grunts becoming louder and louder as they rumbled in his chest, feeling your cunt beginning to clench tighter around his cock. 

You knew that despite how hard you tried, with how good you felt, and how quickly the heat in your belly was starting to bloom once again, there was no way you were going to be able to stop yourself from keeping quiet. Giving in to the fact that Javi was going to have no choice but to cover your mouth, you wrapped your hand over his, pushing his thumb into your mouth, letting your tongue swirl and suck over it as Javi continued to thrust into you, his pace now starting to quicken as he felt your pussy fluttering around him. 

“Fuck- oh fuck me.” Javi groaned, punching deeper and harder against the spot inside you that made you crumble, needing to make you cum again before he fell apart just as quickly as you were. “Touch yourself, baby. I’m not gonna- shit- I’m not gonna last much longer. Need you to cum again. Need you to- fuck- soak my cock before I fuck you full of me.” 

You let your hands drop down, reaching between your legs to rub your clit, barely needing any pressure at all before your second orgasm came crashing through you, moaning into Javi’s broad palm wrapped over your mouth as pleasure radiated through every inch of your body. 

As Javi felt you fall apart, his thrusts became faster and sloppier, quickly following suit,  spilling deep inside you after only a few more pumps, groaning through gritted teeth as he milked himself of every last drop. Resting his forehead against the back of your shoulder, you could feel Javi’s damp curls sticking to your skin as both your chests heaved deeply, trying to catch your breath as you came down from your highs. As Javi lifted his head up, you could feel his lips pressing soft kisses against your back, his fingertips tracing gentle circles on your skin, keeping his chest pressed to yours. 

“You okay, Hermosa?” Javi cooed, letting the tips of his fingers dance along your soft skin as he let out a soft hiss, pulling out of your heat, feeling the mix of your spend dripping down your thighs, planting one more kiss on your shoulder before heading off to the bathroom, returning with a warm washcloth. 

“Okay? I’m amazing. You finally got the munchkin to stop kicking and you made me cum so hard, holy shit, this is the best I have felt all day.” You laughed, shaking your head in blissed out satisfaction as Javi gently wiped you up, tossing the washcloth into the hamper as you turned over to face him, cupping his face as your lips met in a tender kiss, a soft smile peeking out the corners of both of your lips. “Thank you.” 

“For what, Osita?” Javi questioned, his brow slightly scrunching in confusion as his sweet brown eyes stared back at you, brushing a stray piece of hair from your face. 

“For being so amazing. For taking such good care of me, for being such a great dad, I don’t know, I’m so lucky to have you, Javi. I love you.” You smiled, letting tears flow down your cheeks, quickly trying to wipe them away in embarrassment. “Sorry, hormones.” You shrugged, letting out a little laugh as Javi’s thumb gently swiped across your wet face, drying your tears. 

“You deserve everything, Osita. Eres mi amor, mi vida, mi todo. Te amo mucho. (You are my love, my life, my everything. I love you so much.)” Javi beamed, pulling you closer to lay against his chest, resting his hand on your stomach, gently rubbing it back and forth. “Mi familia es perfecto. Mi hermosa esposa, mi hermosa mija, mi hermosa futbolista (My family is perfect. My beautiful wife, my beautiful daughter, my beautiful soccer player)." The two of you laughed, looking down at your belly for a moment before letting out a little “oof” as you felt a tiny kick underneath where Javi’s hand was placed. 

“Tell your little soccer star they can wait to practice until the morning.” 

Taglist:

@cool-iguana @rhoorl @whyjuliaaa @bbiophiliaa @pertinentpostmortem @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @pedrobaby @fatima-marisa @beboldbebravethings @poodlebae @kittenlittle24 @3sriracha @jungchloee @perennialdoll247 @prettyinpunk85 @partyofone3413 @harriedandharassed @pedrohoe04 @theorganasolo @endlessthxxghts @beware-my-thorns @missladym1981 @messinadress @milly-louise @jay-zzle @the-one-with-the-grey-color @persephone-girl @bitchesuntitled @pedropascallvr @millennial-teenybopper @nastiasnow @vee-bees-blog @hopplessilse @mxtokko

[cythena]

SHE'S NOT YOUR GIRLFRIEND RIGHT?

ꨄ︎ synopsis . yuta okkotsu and maki zenin were never official no matter how much flirting you watched and it irked you to no end. yuta was so precious and had no clue maki was playing him. but they're not dating right, so it's okay for him to mess around.

warnings . semi-cheating if you wanna count it, mean!maki, breeding, unsafe sex, pnv, porn with plot, marking, praise, soft at the end, not a lot but minor angst, reader and maki don't get along, manipulation, unrequited love

word count . 2k words

notes . maki is super ooc in here but it's just for plot and not proofread

sitting on his lap, toying with his hair, and tight hugs, maki zenin was so touchy with your close friend yuta. every time she entered a room, a boyish grin tugged at his lips while his eyes shimmered at her. he was eager to bring her close to his side in a group setting. from your distance, you could see her emotionless eyes looking straight through him. affection surged through his veins and every action he made. even without her presence, yuta was love struck and you were forced to watch it.

on outings with just the two of you, he'd barrage you with questions about what she would like. he wanted girl advice from you. then he'd follow up your answers with "you're such a good friend y/n!" which you would prefer rika ripping you apart than hearing again. you would side with the curse who seemed hyper aware of maki's intentions. she was also smart enough to warn yuta and do what she could to stop him. it seemed everyone was doing what they could. inumaki tried his best to communicate his worries about their mutual friend. it would take a village to keep yuta away from her unfortunately.

still no one was as upset and jealous as you were. yuta was the sweetest boy you've ever met and seeing him put his all into her was heartbreaking. he showered her with gifts and compliments. she'd respond gratefully sometimes then shun him others.

like the one time, he bought her a necklace. you mentioned it from outside of a window and he bought it for her. she wore it all the time, which made you really think she appreciated it. she tricked you and yuta as within two weeks she ripped it off and replaced it with a new one — one that she claimed was from another friend. of course yuta didn't do much. it was obvious it hurt his feelings to see his thoughtful gift tossed to the side, quite literally when you found it outside on the field. so you kept it.

the necklace was hidden under the neck of your uniform. it felt good to know it was truly appreciated. yuta didn't deserve maki. she took advantage of his kindness and made him weak. she took every part of his soul and stripped it away from him and put it back just to repeat. it was almost numbing to watch.

almost like it was now, watching maki dig her claws into some guy at the party while yuta went to refill her drink. he wrapped his hand around her waist while she giggled into his ears. yuta returned with her cup in his hand and maki pushed herself off of the other boy. he sat down next to you while she made herself comfortable on his lap.

she rubbed her nose against his neck, whispering something to make his cheeks go red. she pulled away to look at you, her eyes flickered over your appareance. then they narrowed at your collarbone.

"hey...that's mine," she hissed and reached towards it. yuta's eyes widened when he realized it too. you covered the charm with your palm and rolled your eyes.

"not like you cared about it anyways," you said and gestured to the one she wore now. "i found it on the field."

"it fell off while training."

"no it didn't. i've worn it for weeks and it's never failed on me." you glared back at her.

yuta glanced back and forth between you and maki. he felt his heart swell when he realized you kept it. but he pushed it down, it was maki's necklace.

"well i want it back."

"now you want it, so you can dispose of it properly?"

"i want it because yuta gave it to me."

"you replaced it in an instant with some cheap thing from your new boy toy," you scoffed.

maki's chest heaved as she grew angrier. "your keeping my scraps. i can see your upset yuta chose me over you."

"kiss my ass."

you stood up. maki too soon after, but hesitated to follow you through the crowd. you made your way to the kitchen for a drink yourself. you fit yourself in your own little corner to think about it. maki and that same guy from earlier crossed your field of vision. it snapped you out of your thoughts enough to pay attention to them.

was worrrying about yuta even necessary? it was when maki and some guy were leaving together and yuta was clueless. so you went back to find him. he was waiting by the stairs.

"y/n! i'm sorry to ask you after your argument with maki but have you seen her?"

your blood boiled. you glanced to the door like you should tell him but instead you-

"follow me."

you pulled him upstairs. he followed you intently into a bedroom where you shut the door and locked it behind him. he looked around the dark room until he found a lamp. it dimly lit up your surroundings. it smelled of jasmine and other flowers.

you invited yuta to sit on the bed with you. your thigh pressed against his. he shifted uncomfortably, tugging at his collar at the sight of your thighs in your short dress. he couldn't help but look at your figure. he would be lying if he said he'd never noticed — admired — it. and your face. he always thought you were so pretty and had a great smile. his heart fell when he realized he didn't get to see it as much recently.

"yuta..." you started, "y'know, i've liked you since we were first years. i always thought you were really sweet."

he almost choked on his words. but why were you confessing to him now? you placed your hand on his upper thigh, dragging it higher with a sly grin on your face. you looked up into his eyes, staring into them, not through.

"you liked me? i-"

you nodded along with his words, basking in his flustered state. he tripped over his words as he tried to form another sentence but ultimately let himself fall short. you didn't mind. instead, you let brought your hand to the back of his neck. he leaned into your touch before putting his own hand on your wrist.

"no, we shouldn't- maki, it's wrong," he rambled. your grin went lazy. your thigh crossed his as your legs spread further. his arm dropped now.

"she's not your girlfriend, right?"

he shook his head.

"so we don't have to worry about her."

he nodded.

you muttered a yeah before letting your lips touch. months of stress lifted off your shoulders. yuta held your hips and shifted you onto his lap to deepen your kiss. he wanted to taste everything you had to offer in this moment. your tongues danced with each other while your hands grabbed everything they could. they squeezed each other and yanked on clothes until they were off. you sucked a deep purple bruise onto his neck, one he wouldn't be able to hide.

"yuta!" he grinded you against his bulge, black eyes losing all light and filling with lust. your nails dug further into his shoulder as he flipped you over so you were underneath him. he finished pulling off his own pants. "did you two ever-"

he shook his head. "no," he said in between kisses. your panties were tossed to the side. you had no where to look but at him. "i need you so bad, not her, i need you y/n."

his rubbed his hand against your sopping cunt. he brought his two fingers against into his mouth to savor you. he moaned at the intoxicating taste on his tongue then pressed them into your mouth for a taste. he kissed you again in hopes of tasting it again. within his foggy brain, he knew he wanted to taste more but he needed to feel you and his cock throbbed.

"put it in."

you wrapped your hand around his shaft. he silently praised you as you guided his tip to the entrance of your hole. you tilted your head up while he pushed into you. your lips parted in a sweet gasp, one that yuta swallowed with a kiss. you let him completely slide into your hole and fill you.

yuta chuckled. "i'm impatient, i couldn't wait-" he smacked his hips against yours, "anymore." he inhaled your perfume that settled on your collarbone right beside the necklace. he clenched the charm in his other fist, holding it tightly while he fucked into you. you arched your back into his chest.

"o-oh my...yuta," you sighed. "i'm gonna-"

"yeah? wanna cum?"

you nodded. drool began to slip from the corner of your lips.

"words please?" he whispered, "i wanna hear you say it." he slowed down to focus attention on your clit. your eyes fluttered from the circles he rubbed. his cock still filled every part of you. he used his other hand to hold the back of your head and look into your eyes.

"...please yuta...please make me cum." you smiled. "i love you so much."

the words slipped from you and you wished you could take them back. he hungrily sucked marks along your neck and peppered your skin with kisses until he reached your ear. "i love you too, always have."

the walls of your pussy spasmed around him. he felt you pulling his deeper than he thought he could go. the feeling in your gut released. yuta admired the way your eyes widened. your cute expressions were uncontrollable. in blissful heat, your body shuddered. yuta toyed with your breasts now, moving down to kiss them.

"i- can i cum in-"

you cut him off. "inside yes! i need it yuta!" you begged him. your head sank deeper into the pillows. he thrusts became desperate to fill you up now. a whimper of your name spilled from his tongue. he didn't bother trying to hold back anything now. moans and curses filled the room as he tingled with excitement. he sank as deep as he could inside you while he emptied himself.

you bit your lip and gazed at his flushed face. he helped you sit up while he ran to the bathroom. yuta returned with a towel and water bottle. her wiped you off while you sat in silence. he helped you drink water before closing the cap and sitting beside you. he cuddled up against your side with his head nuzzled in your neck.

"y...yuta," you mumbled.

"yes?"

"what do you mean you always loved me?"

he pulled away from you to look you in the eye. he cupped your cheeks. his thumbs stoked your skin soothingly. he gave you a soft smile and a peck on the lips.

"i mean that i've always loved you. sorry i didn't show you, i was scared you didn't feel the same. but i wanna make it right now, so i'd like to be your boyfriend."

"officially?"

"yes. i want to be yours."

yuta reached over and undid your necklace, tossing it somewhere in the dark room. he shushed you before you could protest or get up to find it. he pulled you back into his chest, silencing your worries, "i have one just for you. no need for that one anymore."

[leahrintarou]

hii i saw some of your works and i adore the way you write, so whenever you had time, could you write an asahi x reader? possibly nsfw , and the reader being older than asahi, and you do the rest! thank you if you do it :)))

✩₊˚.⋆ REDESIGN - asahi azumane

CW: reader has female anatomy, mentions of lingerie, fem reader, nsfw, penetration, unprotected sex, usage of the petname "baby" & "beautiful", she calls him 'sahi' as a nickname lol. (i hope this reflects what you requested, anon! :)

Word Count: 1.8k

"oh wait, i need to visit one last store." y/n caught the wrist of her boyfriend, gently pulling him towards the entrance of a clothing boutique. "there’s no hurry, beautiful. i wouldn’t mind if you decided to visit every store in this mall." his smile was warm, comforting, and y/n couldn’t help but feel her heart swell with a gentle heat. asahi followed her to the back, where the lingerie awaited in soft, delicate folds.

"oh?" his eyes widened in surprise as he realized where they stood. she hadn’t mentioned what they were looking for, so the revelation caught him off-guard. "didn’t you just buy like ten different sets a week ago?" he asked, as she released his wrist, now lost in browsing through the selections. "all of which you tore apart, beyond repair," she replied, rolling her eyes as she held up a piece, considered it, then shook her head and put it back.

"oops…" he rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, and y/n nudged him playfully with her shoulder. "not that i’m really complaining," she added.

"well, complain or not, just saying, i’m totally not at fault for your broken sets." he raised his hands in mock defense. y/n’s eyes narrowed at his feigned innocence. "i don’t know, sahi," she deadpanned, "but i’m fairly certain that you yanking the piece fabric off me has everything to do with you."

asahi let out a soft laugh. "not my fault the material is garbage despite being ridiculously overpriced." he shrugged. y/n didn’t seem to hear him, already captivated by a new black set that had caught her eye. "this one is so cute!" she exclaimed, holding it up for him to see. "it is," he replied, smiling faintly.

she arched an eyebrow at his dry response, prompting him to elaborate. after a pause, he shrugged, hesitant. she nudged him again, impatient. "i’m just saying," he began, "i could make something like that. better quality, too, and for free, might i add."

"oh, really?" she replied, dripping with sarcasm. asahi was a talented designer, no doubt, but lingerie was far outside his usual realm. still, his confidence was almost convincing, even to her.

"definitely. we can stop by the fabric store before heading home."

"so, you’re really going to make me custom lingerie because store-bought doesn’t live up to your standards?"

"yup. seems like a perfectly valid reason to me."

"whatever you say." she sighed, setting the set back reluctantly. "wait," asahi stopped her, taking the lingerie from her hands. "we’re still buying these for tonight. might be poorly made, but you’ll make it look perfect. besides, you won’t be wearing it for long." his grin widened, and y/n shook her head, following him to the checkout.

---

"beautiful?" asahi’s voice reached her as she lay half-asleep on the couch. it had been a long, exhausting week, and the fatigue was winning. blinking away sleep, she turned the TV’s volume down with the remote in her hand. "hm?" she called, glancing at him as he descended the stairs and came around to stand behind the couch.

"i’ve got a surprise for you."

"sahi, it’s eleven at night. what kind of surprise is this?" she smiled faintly. he revealed a small box, wrapped neatly with a bow, and handed it to her. "what’s this?" she asked, taking the box, her curiosity piqued. there wasn’t any special occasion coming up, but asahi’s love language was undeniably gift-giving.

he took a seat beside her, urging her to open it. y/n lifted the lid, peeling back the layers of tissue paper, and there, resting beneath, was lace. rich, deep red lace overlaying black, intricately woven and delicate. she pulled it out, admiring the craftsmanship, and looked at him, eyes soft with adoration.

"you actually made this?" her voice was filled with disbelief.

asahi shrugged, a small smile tugging at his lips. she couldn’t help but pull him into a hug, pressing a kiss to his lips, lingering for a moment before he pulled back to speak. "go try it on. i need to see if it fits—I made it all from memory." he chuckled as y/n quickly stood and made her way to their bedroom.

this was what he’d been working on all week in his office. she had nearly forgotten about his promise to make her a custom set. quickly slipping out of her clothes, she donned the pieces he had designed for her, amazed at how perfectly they fit. it seemed impossible, but then again, his hands had memorized every curve of her body.

emerging from the bathroom, she walked towards him with quiet, deliberate steps. the soft glow of the TV flickered across the room, casting faint shadows as she approached. "sahi," she called softly, a shy smile tugging at her lips. she suddenly felt self-conscious under his intense gaze as his eyes traced her form from head to toe.

"say something," she groaned, crossing her arms in mock frustration.

asahi stood, closing the distance between them, his hands finding their way to her hips. "you look stunning," he whispered against her lips. "you did an amazing job," she complimented him with a smile, but he shook his head, pulling her closer until their bodies pressed together.

"yeah, but," he murmured, brushing his lips against hers for a fleeting moment before pulling back, "you make it look ten times better."

his hands traveled to the small of her back, drawing her nearer, his voice a quiet promise against her skin. "now, let’s see how durable it is."

he pressed a kiss against y/n's lips, firm and unyielding, and without hesitation, y/n parted hers in response. his tongue brushed lightly against her own, and she sighed into his mouth, a sound that sent a tremor through him, compelling his hand to find her waist. there was a hunger in his gaze, one reserved solely for her. he guided her to the couch, took his seat, and motioned for her to straddle his lap.

the more he tasted her, the more insatiable his desire became. a groan escaped him when she shifted against his lap, and the sound mirrored his growing need. y/n seemed to sense it, teasingly pressing the strained fabric of his sweatpants, drawing a deep moan from him. "i'm grateful you made this for me, sahi," she murmured softly.

he hummed in response, a low, knowing sound. "mhm and i never ask for anything in return... but..." his voice trailed off as he pulled back slightly, but the unspoken request in his eyes was unmistakable. y/n smiled, and in one smooth motion, she ground her hips against his clothed arousal, her movement deliberate. he threw his head back, groaning deeply.

"too much?" she asked, almost teasingly.

"not enough," he rasped, as her lips found his neck, leaving delicate kisses along his skin. with a swift movement, he pulled at the string of his sweatpants, freeing himself from the layers of fabric that restrained him. y/n took him into her grasp, and a sigh of relief slipped past his lips, though it was tainted by the greed simmering beneath his skin. no matter how much she gave him, it was never enough. "i need you so badly right now, beautiful," he groaned, his body shuddering as she stroked him.

y/n, her own desire mounting, ground herself against his thigh this time. asahi shook his head, laughing softly through the haze of lust. "if you're that needy, use me, beautiful. I'm right here and i need you just as much." her frustration was evident, her body trembling with the need to have him, to feel him entirely. it was as if time slowed, her patience thinning, and the urge to claim him overwhelming her. and he, too, couldn't deny the hunger in his veins, the way his body already responded to her touch.

with his assistance, y/n lifted her hips, and soon the barrier between them vanished. slowly, he helped her sink down onto his length, and their combined moans filled the room. "you feel so good," he breathed, the sensation of her warmth enveloping him nearly tipping him into oblivion. despite his need, he remained gentle, his hands gripping her waist with a tender firmness, guiding her movements as she rose and fell against him. every meeting of their hips brought a fresh wave of pleasure.

but he could sense her fatigue, the way her rhythm faltered. "need my help, beautiful?" he asked, his voice rough with desire.

she nodded, a soft whimper of "please" escaping her lips. with ease, he shifted them both, laying her on her back as he positioned himself between her thighs. his movements became more frantic, more desperate, as he plunged into her, groaning hoarsely with each thrust. y/ n's hands found his wrist, and when he applied a gentle pressure to her abdomen, her moans became more urgent.

he quickened his pace, sensing the edge of ecstasy looming before them both. with one hand, he massaged her in swift, precise circles, his thumb finding her most sensitive spot. y/n bit her lip, her breathless whimpers filling the space between them. "you're almost there, baby," he panted, ignoring the ache in his own body, focusing only on her.

her body trembled beneath him, tension building until it reached its peak. he glanced down at her, the lace of her lingerie a beautiful contrast against her skin, his breath catching in his throat at the sight of her. when she called his name, her voice laced with desperation, he unraveled completely. he pulled out of her, continuing the movements against her bud as her body jolted from the intensity of the sensation.

it didn't take long before her climax hit, her body arching under his touch. to him, it was the most exquisite sight. he gripped his length, pleasuring himself just enough to teeter on the edge of release, and y/n, noticing his need, took over. her hand wrapped around him, her strokes deliberate, and the fact that it was her touch that undid him pushed him over. spurts of his release spilled over her hand and dripped onto her bare abdomen, and asahi let out a long, pleasure-filled moan, his body still trembling as she continued to draw out his high.

slowly, her movements ceased, and asahi leaned down, his breath mingling with hers as they shared a soft kiss, a silent promise of contentment between them.

"sahi?" her voice broke the silence.

"yes, beautiful?" he whispered, brushing his lips against hers once more.

"can you make me one in blue?" she asked with a playful smile.

he chuckled softly, pressing a kiss to her lips. "anything you want, baby," he murmured, his laughter lingering in the air as they lay together, lost in each other's warmth and dimming lust.

heyyyy :)

this is my first time writing for asahi so i hope he's not hella ooc 😭hope you enjoyed tho! leave a like to support <3

got a request? send it in and i'll write it :D

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[suuuupernovaaa]

The Book Seller - Azriel x f!OC (Part 3/3)

Summary: Azriel’s mate decides whether she wants to accept the mating bond, or if it’s all too much.

Content Warning: Adult, 18+, mentions of death and trauma, sexual content

Part 1, Part 2

The next day, Azriel came and fixed the door to my apartment. While he was there, he noticed a few cabinets askew, and fixed those as well.

Afterwards, we made our way down to sit outside the storefront and enjoy lunch by the river, and he noticed a wiggling floorboard, and a crooked bookshelf.

He fixed those, as well.

My heart swelled to watch him pouring energy into the small bookshop that had been my life for so long. It felt quite right, to see him wipe sweat from his brow as he aligned the book shelf just so, and the satisfied smile that crossed his face was enough to make my heart stop when he turned to me.

I laid awake all the previous night, thinking of the bits of information he’d shared with me. His childhood and the pain he’d endured. The way he found his brothers, Cassian and Rhysand. All the wars and trials they’d been through since then. The killing and the torture. The way the peaceful times we were living in now felt like a dream to him.

It had been hard to part ways with just a chaste kiss to his cheek, but I wasn’t sure how fast or slow we were going to move. Some mates took their time, and some took no time at all. I knew at least that he’d be back the next day, to fix the door and so much more.

I set a tray of food in front of us as we sat down to enjoy one of the last warm days we’d see for a while. The food was ordered from a cafe around the corner, as I knew the significance of preparing a meal for the man before me. Preparing and offering a meal was a sign of accepting the bond.

“Thank you for fixing all of that. My brother, I’ve asked him so many times, but he has a little one at home and not much time to help.”

He took a bite of his sandwich and nodded. “You can ask me now,” he said, and a fist squeezed around my heart.

“It’s a little funny that…” I trailed off, unsure how to finish the sentence.

“Go on,” he said, setting his food down.

“We don’t really know each other, do we? We met last night but it feels, almost, like I could rely on you. If I decided to.”

The corners of his lips turned up in a small smile, and that was his only response.

—

Azriel stopped by every day over the next week. Sometimes when the store was open, just to quickly say hi, and twice after to take a walk along the chilly river and talk, hands or arms clasped together. His company was becoming easy, comforting, and I was growing accustomed to him so quickly.

I wondered, was it because we were mates, or would we have found ourselves drawn to each other otherwise?

Despite the ease and excitement, something loomed over me. Azriel was not a normal fae, not a carpenter or a tradesman, not someone I met down the street or at a bar. He was the Shadowsinger, at the hand of our High Lord, and there were parts of his life I was not sure I would ever be privy to. Would that be a true partnership, if part of himself was kept hidden away?

If our era of peace ended, he’d have to put himself in danger. What did being a Shadowsinger truly entail? Would his duties take him away from time to time?We never talked about it, because I didn’t ask.

I was too afraid to. What if he told me he couldn’t share that? What if he told me something I didn’t want to hear? What if he thought it was too soon for me to ask?

When he stopped in the following Saturday, early in the morning with a tea in hand for me, my father was in the shop.

My family joined for dinner together every Wednesday night at my parents house, and my eldest sister had been quick to announce I’d met my mate this past family dinner.

Though they had all insisted on meeting him, I’d not yet broached the topic with Azriel. My family was loud, boisterous, always in each other’s business, and fiercely loving but sometimes overwhelming. Azriel was quiet, and I was nervous that he wouldn’t appreciate them.

My father, a tall man but still a dwarf compared to the Shadowsinger, did not balk when Azriel entered and strode to my desk, handing me the tea.

“Good morning. I came to tell you -“

“Is this him?” father interrupted, and I chided him with a tisk.

“Father!” I hissed, and Azriel straightened. It occurred to me then that truly, Azriel was older than my parents, but fatherhood had made my father mature in a way that only being a parent can, and he looked at Azriel through those eyes.

The tension grew in the air quickly as the two men stared at each other until my father, who had never been described as intimidating a day in his life, grabbed Azriel’s hand in his and shook it violently up and down.

“Great to meet you, son,” my father said to Azriel, the High Lord’s Shadowsinger, his elder by 100 years, as if he was any other man on the street.

To his credit, Azriel returned the shake with enthusiasm, and tipped his head as a sign of respect. “You as well, sir,” he replied.

Father waved his hand to dismiss the title. “No formalities in family. Will you join us for dinner this week?”

Azriel looked to me, and I tried to communicate my apologies with my expression.

He cleared his throat. “Actually, I came to tell you, Holly, I leave tonight and will be gone about a week.”

I gripped my tea in my hands as my father wisely made some mumbled excuse to leave us alone at my desk. I stood from my chair and came around to meet Azriel, perching on the edge of my desk.

“Oh. Um, work?”

He nodded.

“I wanted to ask… how much I might be allowed to know. In the future.”

His face grew dark and serious. “I would tell you anything you want to know, though some of it you may not want to hear. It is not always pleasant, extracting secrets.”

I nodded gravely. “Oh. Right.”

“Which brings me to another point… being my mate, it could land you in trouble. One day. Soon or in the distant future. I’d feel better if you could defend yourself.”

“Fight?” I asked, glancing around at the book store to make sure no one was listening.

“I’ll do everything in my power to make sure you never have to, but I would feel more at ease if I knew you could defend yourself. If need be.”

I wrapped my arms around myself. This was exactly what I’d been afraid of - the danger that came with the man in front of me. It only took a week to bubble to the surface.

“Cassian and Nesta have offered to train you.”

“Why not you?”

A small smile crossed his lips. “Just this week, while I’m gone. I’ll join once I return. I thought you’d be more comfortable, with Nesta there.”

Nervous, I reached out and grabbed his hand. He held mine fiercely.

“Will you be safe? Are you going somewhere dangerous?”

He shook his head, stepping closer to me. “No, no one will even know I’m there,” he replied quietly, and pressed his forehead to mind. I closed my eyes, breathing in his scent.

“Do you promise?” I whispered.

To my shock, Azriel’s lips found mine then. For the first time. Soft, warm, and all enveloping, I pressed my body flush to his and opened my mouth to allow him entry, a soft sigh escaping.

I had been waiting, every moment since we’d met, for him to kiss me. Stealing glances at his lips, kissing his cheek with every departure, it wasn’t enough.

He snaked his arms around my waist, and I held his beautifully sculpted face in my hands as his tongue explored.

Every single part of me was on fire in a way I had never imagined possible. I could feel sparks shooting from my toes and the ends of my hair. Azriel groaned quietly as he pressed me tighter to him, and I wrapped my arms around his neck to hold him in place.

He tasted like mint tea and I wove my hands through his silky, dark hair, desperate for more.

Too fast, too suddenly, Azriel pulled away and smiled down at me. Only a moment later, I heard my father approaching.

He must have heard him first.

I removed my hands from his hair and smoothed it, removing any traces that I had been there, as we continued to smile at each other.

“Cassian will fetch you at 6am tomorrow, and have you back in time to open at 10,” he said, and my face fell.

“Azriel, 6am? You cannot be serious.”

He was laughing as he walked out the door.

—

The next week was grueling. Every morning, I met Cassian outside at 6am so he could prove to me how weak I truly was. I had no strength, no skill, no balance.

Nesta assured me she had been the same before Cassian had forced her to train, but it was hard to believe, watching her move with such grace and strength now.

Not only was the training draining me, but I missed Azriel. It felt strange to admit it. Two weeks ago, I had only known him by reputation. Now, a day without him was painful.

Near the end of the week, I’d asked the girls to run the shop for me for the day so I could rest, and Nesta invited me to join her for breakfast after training, just the two of us.

Sweaty and tired, I slumped at the table and asked the house for some water and tea. It appeared magically, delighting me as it had every time this past week.

“Can I ask you something a little personal?” I asked once I’d drank the entire glass of water, and Nesta nodded warily.

Though I did consider us friends, Nesta was still guarded, and I wanted to tread carefully.

“Is it hard, to be Cassian’s mate?”

She surprised me by laughing. “In what sense? He is very annoying.”

“I mean, him being who he is. The position he holds.”

“Ah,” she said, nodding. “I don’t know if I can say. I was human before, and all I’ve known of being fae is these people, this life,” she gestured to the grand home around us, and I understood.

Her ushering into this life had been straight into grandeur. She had not lived life as a normal high fae, only royalty.

“I asked you to come here last week because I wanted you to meet Azriel. Something felt right, when I thought of you two together. I can’t explain it. I almost knew. Once the idea occurred to me, of you two together, I couldn’t shake it. It nagged at me until I brought you here.”

Though I had suspected, she hadn’t confirmed it before.

I pursed my lips and looked down at the full plated breakfast before me.

“He seems worth it, to me. Worth whatever… trouble, it could bring. To be his,” I said finally, picking up my fork. “I don’t know if I’m worthy of him.”

Nesta reached over and grabbed my arm. “You are. I would not trouble with you, if you weren’t.” She spoke plainly, stating a fact with no emotion behind it, and nodded in return.

—

I returned home early in the afternoon, greeted my employees, and headed up for a long bath and possibly a nap.

After soaking for a very long time to remove all the sweat and grime, I dressed in a simple tan dress, and pulled a book from my night stand. The bath had rejuvenated me enough to no longer need to sleep, so I sat next to the window to read.

Only ten minutes later, I closed the book, unable to focus on the words on the page. They danced around, always spelling Azriel in my mind.

A scary but not entirely unwelcome thought greeted me then: I was in love with the shadowsinger. With his soft smiles and tight expressions. His attention to detail and need to care and fix. His past and present and hopefully, his future.

I wasn’t just falling in love with him because the living bond between us brought us together, but for who he was. I would have loved him without this bond. Would have been struck by his beauty and grace. The quiet assuredness with which he moved through the world.

As I got lost deeper and deeper into my own thoughts, a knock came at the door. Probably Aurelia or Jessiminda, needing something for the store. I placed my book on the shelf before crossing my small apartment to pull open the door.

Neither girl stood there, but instead, Azriel barreled in, sweeping me into his arms in a warm embrace that I eagerly returned.

“You’re back!” I exclaimed, breathing him in. How fully I missed him really hit me then, as I held him safely in my arms. It was as if something had been wrong the last week, something missing from me, a part of my soul, and here it was, returned.

“I came back as soon as I could,” he said, his face in my hair. The unspoken part of that sentence seemed to be, to get back to you.

“How was training?” he asked as he pulled away, just a few inches to look at me, and I could not stop myself from rolling my eyes.

“I’m sore everywhere. I could not kick anyone’s ass.”

He laughed, a low chuckle. “Give it time.”

“I have been thinking… Jessaminda wants more hours, and the store is doing well. I could have her open every morning for me, so I only work afternoons.”

His smile grew. “You don’t want to train at six am.”

“Of course not. But also, it would mean more time for me.”

For us.

Through the bond, I felt a ripple of joy. Only once or twice before had I felt what I thought were Azriel’s emotions - we wouldn’t truly be able to feel each other until I accepted the bond, and we hadn’t discussed that yet.

“Good idea,” was his full reply, and I beamed at him.

“Are you hungry? I could make a stew.”

He raised his eyebrow. “Are you offering to cook for me? Now?”

I sauntered away from him into the kitchen, gathering the supplies I needed and lighting the stove.

“Sit, and tell me about your trip,” I instructed as I began chopping. He sat at my small dining table, looking as nervous as he was capable of after centuries of skillfully hiding his emotions, and told me of his trip. Simple fact finding and information gathering in the autumn court, where he’d also met up with some old friends. I asked questions, and he readily answered, giving me any information I wanted to know, which brought comfort to my heart.

When the stew was done, I filled two bowls, and turned to him.

“Before I give this to you, I want you to know… I think you’re the most incredible man I’ve ever met. If you weren’t my mate, I would still find you as handsome, as impressive, as captivating, as awe-inspiring as I do now. I don’t care that we’ve only just met or there’s so much we have to learn about each other. I’m greatly looking forward to that.”

I sat down across from him, and wondered if my family would be upset that we’d done this in private. Many fae made a ceremony of this moment, but I couldn’t imagine that was something Azriel would want, and I didn’t really either.

There was a look in his eyes that I thought might be wonder, or awe, I set the bowl and spoon down in front of Azriel, and waited.

He lifted the spoon and stared at me with such intensity that it made my stomach churn with nerves.

“I have waited 500 years for you. Had I known what I was waiting for, I would have agreed to wait 500 more.” His voice trembled with emotion, and tears pricked at the corners of my eyes.

We were silent as he took his first bite, and finished the bowl in mere minutes. I hadn’t even touched mine, I realized, and took my first bite as he took his last.

We stared at each other then, the air charged, and I felt it. The bond strengthening, solidifying between us, and I closed my eyes and listened.

I could feel him so clearly. His pain, his joy, and drowning everything else out, how badly Azriel wanted me in that moment. How desperate he was to touch me, and the thread he was using to hold himself back until he got a signal from me.

When I opened my dark eyes, his golden eyes bore into mine, passion sparking behind them.

“Yes,” was all I said, and all he needed, to sweep the table aside and pull me into his sturdy, waiting arms.

His mouth found mine eagerly, and his hands roamed my body. I found myself beyond glad I’d had time to bathe before he arrived.

He lifted me up by the shelf of my rear, and I wrapped my legs around his waist. He walked the few steps over to my bed and without breaking the kiss, lay me on my soft green bedding, kneeling between my spread legs.

“Azriel,” I moaned, and I felt how badly he wanted me as he pressed himself into me. I arched my back, searching for more friction.

He reached down, pulling at the hem of my dress slowly, pushing it up over my thighs, his fingers trailing over my stomach, and I sat up so he could pull it over my head.

I made quick work of the buttons of his shirt, revealing his broad golden chest and firm abs.

“Gods,” I hissed as he tossed the shirt across the room. This sculpted angel before me was enough to send me into a spiral. He pushed me back onto the bed, and looked down at me as something to devour.

“I need to taste you,” he said, his voice all breath and gravel, and I nodded eagerly.

He started at my neck with lazy, languid kisses, running his warm tongue over my skin, and then down. Over my chest, he stopped to take my nipple into his mouth, biting and sucking gently. I arched my back, pressing myself into his mouth, and we groaned together.

Down, further down he went, trailing his tongue over my naval until he reached the apex of my thighs, and did not waste any time teasing me.

He pulled my sensitive bud between his lips and sucked. I was so swollen, so sensitive, and so desperate for him. I moaned his name and put my hands into his hair, guiding him as he truly devoured me. He slowed and sped, and stuck his tongue deep inside me, causing another loud moan to escape my chest.

“Good girl,” he murmured, and I nearly came at the sound of it.

“I need you,” I replied.

“Need me where, baby?”

“Inside me. Please. Now,” I panted.

He stood up slowly, torturing me, and removed the buckle from his pants, and slid them down over taught, muscular thighs.

The bulge in his underwear was obscenely large, and I wondered how on earth it was going to fit. He removed his underwear and sprang free, and my mouth watered.

He was on top of me once more, his fingers dragging through my wet folds, circling my clit, as I moaned into his mouth.

I spread my legs as wide as they would go, and reached down to grip his considerable length, and place it at my entrance.

“Please,” I breathed, and my mate’s eyes met mine. I felt him, his love and his admiration and his lust, surging through the bond. “Azriel.”

“Holly,” he whispered, reverently, worshipping my name as he worshipped my body, and slid slowly inside me.

“Gods!” I exclaimed, and dug my nails into his back.

He groaned, stopping to allow me to adjust to his size. “Good girl. You can take it all. Be a good girl for me,” he whispered in my ear.

When he was finally fully seated in me, to the hilt, he stilled again. I felt impossibly full but gods, so good, and I wiggled, encouraging him to move.

He chuckled and placed a rough kiss on my mouth before beginning to move. Slowly, carefully at first.

“More. I won’t break.”

He moaned again then, a sweet sound in my ears, and picked up the pace, sliding in and out of me faster and faster until he reached a punishing pace, and I was making noises in his ear I’d never made before.

“Come for me, mate,” he demanded in my ear, and I came apart around him with a blinding scream, clamping my legs around his waist and scratching my nails down his bag.

He groaned a moment later, finding his release, and collapsed on top of me.

I was thoroughly devoured.

—

We stayed in my apartment for four days together, learning and exploring each other, and I had never felt so blissfully happy.

Or so sore.

The frenzy. I’d heard of it before. It was a dangerous time for newly fated males, but Azriel and I stayed locked up together for the worst of it.

When we were not actively learning each other, we talked, or ate, or slept, or read together. I thought life like this forever might be okay, but of course, it couldn’t last.

On the fifth day, Azriel recommended we might emerge and let our friends and family know we had affirmed the bond, as if they didn’t know. I had sent word to my employees to run the store without me, to my family that I’d miss dinner, and I knew he’d sent word to his family too.

I had not known they’d planned a party, or else I would have insisted we stay locked away for much longer.

As we left through my apartment window, I already wished we were back inside, Azriel inside me and all around me, where nothing and no one else existed.

Sadly, we had responsibilities outside, and decisions to make.

Like where we would live. The thought of Azriel residing with me in my small apartment was cozy, but laughable. He spent most of his time at the House of Wind, but also had a room in the High Lord’s newest home, and his townhome central to the city.

I had suggested it might be nice to have a place all our own. Near the water, and my store, somewhere just for us.

Azriel had liked the idea so well, he’d taken me against the window as we looked out at the city, planning.

We arrived at the House of Wind as the sun was setting, entering through a door in the courtyard that I’d not yet seen. Azriel led me to his room, dark and quiet and without decoration, and I wondered what our new home would look like.

He opened his closet and from within, drew out a golden gown, the color of his eyes. It was beautiful, floor length with a plunging neck line, long adorned sleeves, and intricate bead work throughout.

“For you,” he said, bringing it over to me. “From Feyre.”

I reached out to touch the most lovely dress I’d ever seen. “I can’t accept this.”

He shrugged. “You can,” he replied simply. Money had not yet crossed my mind - what kind of salary did a Shadowsinger draw? Surely more than a book peddler.

I turned and allowed him to remove my dress, and once I stood nearly naked before him, I leaned over the black dresser in front of me, bearing myself to him as I stepped out of my shoes.

His breath hissed between his teeth, and I smiled. I turned and placed my hands on his shoulders, stepping into the dress. He drug it up my body, and stepped around me to zip it up. It fit perfectly, making curves where I’d thought I had none. I turned to look in the mirror, pushing my hair from my face, and decided on a simple, long braid, so as not to distract from the dress.

When I finished, Azriel grabbed my hand. “I also have this for you,” he said, holding out a ring. A thin gold band adorned with one shining purple jewel. Simple, and lovely, and I wordlessly spread my fingers so he could slide it on.

Two weeks ago, I was alone. I was lonely. Time is a funny thing.

—

I expected at most, a handful of people when we entered the dining room, but as we grew closer, the chatter of a crowd was hard to miss.

I gasped when we entered. The hall was decorated beautifully, in purple and gold everywhere, flowers and tapestries and other finery as far as the eye could see.

Everyone in my family was there. My parents, all three siblings and their spouses, and their children as well, five in total.

All mixed in with Azriel’s family, Rhysand and Feyre, Cassian and Nesta, Amren and Mor standing with a beautiful woman who had to be Feyre’s third sister, hanging on the arm of a stunning man with red hair.

“Oh gods!” I shouted.

“Surprise!” Cassian hollered, igniting a laugh through the small crowd.

“Aunt Holly!” my youngest nephew ran to me as I entered and continued taking in the scene, and I bent down to scoop him into my arms. Nearing five, I would soon be unable to pick him up and throw him around, and I relished in holding him when I could.

I turned to Azriel, who smiled at me with mischief in his eyes. “Did you know?”

He shrugged, confirming it. “It was Feyre’s idea.”

Well, my mate was nothing if not clever. He knew I could not be mad if it was my High Lady’s idea. She approached then, arms open to wrap me and my nephew wiggling in my arms in a tight hug.

“I don’t know how you feel about surprises, but it didn’t feel right not to celebrate a new family member.”

I tried hard, but couldn’t resist a small bow. “Thank you, My Lady.”

She tisked. “Enough of that today. Just Feyre.”

Aiken jumped from my arms and ran back to my family, and we spent the rest of the night laughing and drinking as our two families blended. The atmosphere in the room was light, joyful, and calm.

I knew it would not always be this way. There would be very hard times ahead, and times of even greater joy and celebration.

Azriel and I were just getting started. It was all so new and fresh, but I was so sure of it too. So sure of him. The mating bond flowed between us, steady and strong, and we felt when the other was ready to end the night. I saw my family off before Rhysand and Mor helped them all home, promising we’d be at every Wednesday dinner we could, and we bid Feyre and her sisters farewell.

We returned to Azriel’s room quietly, hands clasped together, and I wondered if someone could be too happy.

If it was dangerous, to be too content, so quickly. To have so much change come into your life and to be so incandescently happy with it.

Was I asking for something terrible? Was I inviting in chaos and danger, simply by being overjoyed?

If so, I would not have changed a thing. Would not have chosen another mate, another family, another life for all the coin on the continent.

Azriel wrapped me in his arms as we fell asleep a while later, and I listened to his heartbeat in his chest, counting them.

Thu-thump. Thu-thump. Thu-thump.

A beautiful sound. The sound of my mate, alive and well.

“What are you thinking of?” he asked, sensing my overwhelming emotions down the bond.

“That I love you,” I replied quietly, eyes still closed, heart beating wildly.

I heard his speed up, too.

A confusing mix of emotions came through the bond. Pain, longing, fear, lust, but there under all of that, there was love.

“I don’t deserve you. You are good and pure. You are kind. Faultless.” His gravely voice was strained, and I propped myself up to see his golden eyes shining.

“You deserve every happiness in the world, and I will see to it that you have them, my mate.”

He leaned up, pressing a chaste kiss to my lips.

“I love you, too,” he said, and shouted it down the bond as well.

We fell asleep intertwined in his dark sheets, only love enveloping us.

The book seller and the shadowsinger.

@rcarbo1

[sellenite]

cherry blossoms 05 pairing: virgin!Choso x fem!reader contents: virginity loss! (Choso), p in v, light choking (f! receiving), use of pet names (baby), friends to lovers, soft smut, cheesy ending warning (LOL) tw: blood - talked about, but not seen (in reference to Choso's cursed technique) word count: 3.3K MDNI | 18+

It had been a few weeks since you had kissed Choso, and the need you felt for one another had grown exponentially in the passing days. But you hadn’t gotten many moments of privacy since the movie night, opting instead to steal kisses and touches from one another when no one was looking.

Choso had been desperate to get his hands on you whenever he could—pressing you up against the walls of alleyways when you were on missions or pulling you into the bathroom with him when you were watching movies with Yuji at their apartment—just so he could taste your lips, even for a minute. And after weeks of sneaking around, you were finally granted another night of privacy.

As soon as you arrived at Choso’s apartment, your hands were all over each other. His touches had gotten bolder since your first kiss, his lips smoother and more confident in their movement against yours. You walked him backward towards his bedroom as you pulled pieces of clothing off, giddy and giggling like schoolchildren. You made out for a while on Choso’s bed, your hands tugging off one another’s clothes until you were left just in your undergarments, your body seated atop Choso’s broad frame.

“Are you nervous, Choso?” You gazed down at him as he lay beneath, meeting his gaze softly. Your palms were on his bare chest—fingers splayed over the strong plane of his pectorals—and your thighs straddled his waist, pressed pelvis to pelvis.

“Y-yeah, a little,” Choso admitted shyly. He returned your gaze tenderly, but you could feel his heart beating quickly under your palm. You gave him an easy smile as you traced a little heart into his skin with your index finger.

“What are you nervous about?” Your eyes were kind as they held his, and your voice soft, trying to coax him into relaxing.

“I– don’t wanna hurt you.” Choso’s voice was so gentle as he looked up at you, ironically contrasting the broad, muscular body you were sitting on top of.

You laughed affectionately, running your palms tenderly up and down his chest. “You’re not gonna hurt me, Cho… You’re going to do quite the opposite, really,” you assured him, giving him a cheeky smile.

Choso let out a sigh, his hands running over your hips, soothing himself by feeling your curves under his palms. Your smiles and laughter calmed him to some degree, but he was still stressed, anxious about the fact that the swelling bulge between his legs seemed so much larger than what he thought your body could take.

You could see the furrow of his brows lingering, so you leaned over him—one of your arms supporting your body next to his head and the other resting on his face—to stroke your thumb across his cheekbone. “Tell me what you want,” you cooed to him. Your eyes looked down at him with soft affection, your voice silken as you tried to calm his nerves.

“I want to make you feel good,” Choso pleaded. His eyes were wider than usual, more alert and insistent. His desire for you ran deep, swirling in the pools of his irises, but mixed with his desperation to satisfy you and his fears that he wouldn’t.

You shook your head at him with a gentle smile before you leaned forward to press your lips to his, trying to get him out of his head. Your lips lingered against his, your mouths moving slowly—almost languidly—calmer than when you first kissed him in his apartment. You pulled back once you felt his shoulders relax downward, some of the tension leaving his body.

“Don’t worry about me, Cho,” you said, your hand still resting tenderly on his cheek. “What do you want?” You emphasized to him with a sweet smile, kissing the curse mark that bloomed across the bridge of his nose.

“I… Want you to kiss me again,” Choso said softly, his features relaxing even more as he smiled up at you. His hands inched up your ribcage, tentatively stopping below the band of your bra.

“Yeah?” You said with a smile, teasingly nuzzling your nose against his as you ghosted your lips over his parted ones.

“Uh huh,” Choso nodded to you, his mouth following yours eagerly, desperate to catch your lips between his own. You caved with a giggle, leaning in to close the distance between you. Choso groaned softly as he poked his tongue out, the muscle readily sliding into your mouth to caress your bottom lip. You moaned back at the sensation, your fingers curling into his loose brown hair as you let your tongue meet his.

The kiss grew heated once again, Choso’s hands moving gently to cup your breasts over your bra, feeling the swell of your flesh under them. You could feel his bulge pressed against your thigh, and you rolled your hips over him teasingly, feeling his cock twitch beneath you. Choso groaned low in his throat, breaking the kiss as his hands traveled to the clasp of your bra.

“Can I take this off you?” He asked you breathlessly, searching your eyes for consent just like you did for him. You nodded to him with a soft smile, sitting up on his waist to help him undo the clasp. Choso’s fingertips found your shoulders, sliding the straps of your bra down until your breasts were freed, nipples perking up against the cool air.

“Fuck,” Choso’s voice came out in a throaty groan, his eyes flitting back and forth between both of your breasts. He swallowed hard and you laughed in response, fighting the urge to cover your chest from the way it felt like his eyes were burning holes through you.

“Well, don’t just stare, Cho,” you laughed to him, and he gave you a bashful smile in response, blinking a couple of times as if he were snapping himself out of a trance.

“Sorry, you’re just… Beautiful,” Choso sighed, letting his large palms push up your ribcage, tentatively cupping the bottom of your breasts.

“So, so beautiful,” he muttered to himself as his hands engulfed your soft skin, his thumbs instinctively finding the buds of your nipples. You sucked in a breath as he palmed at you tenderly, his lips parting in fascination as he watched your nipples harden under his touch, darkening and swelling. He groaned as he sat up, wanting to be closer to your skin, needing to feel you everywhere.

He pressed a kiss to your lips, hungrier than the last—sloppier, too. He traced his mouth down your jaw, your neck—wet and mostly tongue—his hands cradling and kneading your breasts with insatiable lust. You moaned as he made his way closer to the swell of your flesh, but his mouth stopped, his breath fanning out over your collarbone.

“Can I kiss you here?” His voice came out husky and desperate as if it took effort for him to hold himself back long enough to ask.

“Please,” you whined back to him, and Choso wasted no time bringing his lips to your breasts, latching his mouth around one of your nipples.

You let out a needy sound at the touch, grinding your hips into Choso’s lap to slide his tip back and forth against your clit. Choso groaned around your nipple, sucking harder before he pulled off of it with a pop just to move to the other. His hands stayed on the sides of your breasts, pushing them together and kneading the one he wasn’t sucking on.

Your fingers laced through his hair again while you rolled your hips into his cock, causing the wet patch on the front of his boxers to spread. Choso’s mouth devoured your skin, leaving you slick with his spit as he moaned into your chest, thrusting his hips back into yours.

“Want you so bad, baby, please,” he whined, his needy voice matching the twitching of his cock nestled against your cunt. Warmth flooded your core at his words, your fingers tightening their grip on his hair.

“I want you to,” you moaned back to him, tugging his head up gently by his hair to bring his lips to yours. You were both so pent-up, so desperate with want that you didn’t think you needed any more preparation for him, despite how big he was. You slid your hands down his chest, finding the elastic of his boxers and pulling them down his legs with his help. Choso followed suit quickly after, sliding you out of your panties and then letting you get situated over him again.

“Do you want to be on top, or would you like me to be?” You asked him, pausing to make sure he was comfortable.

“I want you on top,” Choso answered almost immediately with an excited smile. “I want to watch you like this,” he added, running his hands up and down your hips. You smiled at him, taking a minute to steep in the intimacy of the moment. There was so much trust between you, so much care. When he smiled back at you, warm and soft, something bloomed in your heart like the first cherry blossoms of spring.

You reached between your legs to take Choso’s length in your hand, stroking him slowly a few times before you lined him up with your entrance. You pressed a kiss to his lips, deep and lingering, before you pulled back.

 “Tell me if you need me to stop at any point, okay?” You asked him softly, looking into his eyes for any sign of hesitation or fear. But you were only greeted with warmth, his eyes gazing at you as if you were the sun itself.

“Okay,” Choso agreed, a somewhat boyish smile on his face.

You braced yourself on his shoulder with one hand as you held his length steady with the other and slowly started to let your hips drop into his. Choso’s tip breached your entrance, and you bit into your lip to hide your whimpers, not wanting to make him nervous by thinking that he was hurting you. You felt him open you up, stretching you out as your hips relaxed into him, his cock sinking into you inch by inch. Choso let out a groan, tipping his head back as he felt you slide down his length, engulfing him in your heat. The stretch of him stung, but it felt good, too; a dull ache soothed over by feeling so full of him.

“Tell me how it feels, baby,” you moaned, watching his face as he picked his head back up. He was propped upward on one arm, his other hand gripping tightly onto the plush of your hip like an anchor.

“Feels so… Small,” he said through gritted teeth. “So warm, so tight— F-feels really good.” Choso’s lips were parted open, his eyelids heavy with lust as he watched your point of connection, how your body enveloped every inch of him as you settled down to his hilt—bone to bone, skin to skin. The tip of his cock kissed your cervix, and you whimpered softly, your nails digging crescent moons into his broad shoulders.

Choso was in ecstasy. He could feel every inch of you as you pressed yourself against him, could feel the way you opened for him. He was acutely aware of the blood in your body, how it flowed and swelled in your cunt, pulsing around him, warming him. His head felt thick with need, a primal desire to consume you completely and to let you consume him.

You settled there for a moment, letting Choso feel you around him as you adjusted to his size before you moved; just a subtle rock of your hips—catching your clit on the bottom of his abdomen—before you eased back down. You both let out sighs of pleasure at the friction, and Choso’s hand slipped down your hip to grip the plush of your ass.

“Again, please,” he urged you, using his hand to rock you back into him, and you moaned into his mouth as you tangled your fingers through his hair, bringing him closer to you.

You obliged him, rolling your hips into his a little harder, lifting off of his cock a more so he could feel the way your walls dragged over him. He moaned into your mouth, needy and hungry as you repeated the motion.

Choso wasn’t a religious man. He had never understood why humans felt so compelled to worship higher beings. Until this moment. Until he felt you on top of him and suddenly realized that he had never felt more alive in his entire existence—had never felt so real, never felt so human. And you were a vision of beauty seat on top of him—lips slightly parted and lids heavy as you bounced your hips on his cock.

“Does it—does it feel good for you?” Choso asked you breathlessly, the tips of your noses brushing as you glided your hips over his.

“Feels really good for me, Choso,” you reassured him, bringing your mouth to his so you could swallow down his cries of pleasure.

You rode him gently, but not without need or want. You rolled your hips into his, took every moan and whine he gave you—with your lips melded to his and your fingers tangled in his hair—and gave back to him more. Choso’s fingers dug harshly into your skin to keep himself anchored as you enveloped him softly and sweetly, the way he deserved.

He was at a loss for words but not quiet about his pleasure. His eyelids fluttered as you rode him, whimpered breaths leaving his mouth and ghosting over your lips every time he felt your walls drag up and back down his cock. He moaned your name more than once, the hand he had on you always pressing you a little closer when he did, your nipples rubbing up against his chest as your lips meld to his.

Small utterances of praises left his mouth when your lips broke away for long enough, his eyes hazy and soft with lust when you pulled back far enough to see them. You pressed your lips to his jaw while your hips rolled to meet his so that you could hear the sounds he made in your ear. You could feel him getting closer, his voice getting needier, his fingertips clawing into your skin harder as his body started to tremble under you.

“Close, baby, I’m really close,” Choso whimpered against your ear, the arm he was propped up on faltering as his hips started jumping to meet yours, pushing his cock roughly into you as his movements became more desperate. You eased him down onto his back, your hands guiding his shoulders to the bed as he held your waist. Your body leaned over him, bare and beautiful in the evening light, as his deep purple eyes drank in your figure. His eyebrows were furrowed up in the pleasure, his hips twitching under you desperately.

“Don’t hold back, Cho. Want you to cum for me,” you urged him, sliding a hand between your legs to rub your clit while you dragged your hips up and down him—pulling all the way up so he could feel the way your walls hugged him when you sunk back down.

Choso’s hips rutted up into you compulsively now as he let out labored breaths and sobs of pleasure. You moved with him, encouraging him to take you as he wanted, as he needed. You leaned closer into his body once more, moaning back into his mouth as he came undone. Your name fell from his lips, heavy with the sounds of his breathing as he clung to your body.

“Cumming, cumming, please,” he sobbed to you, his fingers gripped so tight into your hips you knew he’d leave welts, but you were too far gone in your pleasure to care. Your hand worked faster circles into your heat, moaning with Choso as he came beneath you.

His hips stuttered, and his eyelids fluttered, his cock twitching inside of you as he climaxed. His moans were loud and heavy, his hips bucking to meet your hips with every spout of release that he gave you. You rode him through his high until you felt the burning pressure inside you reaching its peak.

You were about to vocalize your impending orgasm to him when you felt his hand snake to your throat, his thumb resting gently over your pulse point. Choso squeezed lightly, and you gasped at the unexpected pressure, your cunt fluttering around him. His half-lidded eyes watched your face as you moved above him, pleasuring yourself on his cock. He felt so connected to you, could feel how life flowed through your veins, weaving through your body until it pushed up through you, blossomed, and you came for him.

You climaxed with a whine, Choso’s hand on your throat making you feel dizzy with pleasure. Your cunt pulsed around him, the blood there heavy and full around the shape of him inside you, and Choso groaned along with you. Your hips rolled back against his—your mouth parted open in wordless ecstasy—and Choso whined from the over-stimulation, watching you with wonder until you settled gently on top of him. Your cheek rested against his chest, feeling his heartbeat under your ear while his fingers loosened around your neck and slid up to cradle your cheek.

You angled your head up to see him, bringing your own hand to his cheek so his eyes met yours. His breathing was settling down again, but his face was still flushed pink, soft and rosy. He was quiet, but his eyes were bright, with a lazy grin spread across his face that made you giggle in return.

“How did you know to do that?” You were still bewildered that he would think to choke you during his first time with you. Choso just shrugged in response, the smile on his face growing a little wider.

“It just felt right, I guess. I could feel your blood the whole time; I could feel it moving through you when you were getting closer. It felt comforting, to hold your pulse under my fingers.” His voice was gentle, his thumb brushing lightly back and forth over your cheekbone. You smiled at him.

“It felt really good for me, too,” you admitted with a smile, your fingers scratching soothingly into his scalp. “How was it for you?” You asked him tenderly. He was still inside of you, softening but reveling in the warmth of your body, in the feeling of being intertwined with you.

“I don’t think I’ve felt alive before today,” he replied softly. His eyes watched yours with adoration, all of your unspoken emotions laid out for each other without the need for words, bare like your bodies. You could feel warmth in your chest spreading, rising into your throat as your cheeks flushed, the words bubbling up to your tongue. But Choso beat you to it.

“I think I love you.” The words left his lips as if it were a simple fact, but you could see the emotion behind them painted into the purple of his eyes, warm like a sunset. A smile bloomed over your face, which Choso mirrored to you without hesitation.

“I think I love you, too,” you told him softly. You slid up his body to capture his lips with yours, feeling him smile into it. His knuckles trailed the length of your spine while your fingers tangled into the soft brown strands of his hair. Outside, two cherry blossom petals floated by, settling on the windowsill before they danced off into the breeze.

AN: thank you all for reading, and an extra thank you if you were one of the sweet souls who liked/reblogged/commented/followed along for the entire series — I APPRECIATE YOU SO MUCH 🫶 that being said, this is the last part of this series! I tried to get a little more poetic with this chapter so I hope it was well-received 😅 only time will tell. as always, any comments/interactions are greatly appreciated, so please do not feel shy to say hi <3