#jus lemme hold onto him longer

[malsmind]

"exactly, and then ass."

chris sturniolo x reader

summary: chris made a comment on stream after chat asked 'ass or tits' let's just say, he didn't lie when he answered with 'ass'.

warnings: smut, unprotected sex, p in v, doggy, dirty talk, pet names (ma, baby), slapping, hair pulling, cutesy aftercare!

author's note: writing this lowk made me switch from tits to ass oop. anyway when is it my turn for this kinda aftercare…

wc: 668

english is not my first language!

"fuck." chris breathed out, his hips snapping forward, meeting yours at a painfully fast pace, your ass jiggling with every thrust. your face was burried in his pillows, holding onto the fabric of his bedsheets like your life depended on it, biting down on his pillow to suppress your moans.

chris's hand came down on your ass cheek, a red mark forming on the soft skin. "yeah, you love that, huh? you love when i fuck you like that." chris groaned, his hand finding your hair, yanking it back to pull your face out of the pillows. your moans echoed trough the room along with the sound of skin slapping against skin. "god..." chris huffed, watching the way your ass slapped back against him with the movements of his hips fucking into you. "fuckin' love that ass." a low groan left his lips, his free hand kneading the flesh. "y'know i do. was thinkin’ of you when i answered... fuck..-" another slap landed on your ass, "when i answered that question..."

chris picked up the speed, pounding into you harder and faster. your eyes squeezed shut, back arching, pressing yourself onto his dick that pistoned in and out of your tight pussy, walls hugging him tightly.

with the way you were clenching around him, your pornographic moans and your ass just looking too good to be true while he was fucking you from behind, chris wouldn’t last much longer.

“where do you want me ma?” he panted, gently slapping your hip to get your attention. “anywhere, fuck, please..” you moaned, too lost in the moment to give a fuck about where you want him to cum.

chris nodded, fucking into you harder to help you chase your own high, and it didn’t take long, your orgasm approaching faster than you expected. you clenched around him, back arching harder as your face flopped down into his pillows, moaning out his name, your hands gripping the sheets impossibly tighter.

chris felt his dick twitch, watching you make a mess around him. he moaned, brows knitting together in pure pleasure as he watched your ass bounce so perfectly with every single thrust of his hips. he gave you a few more hard, deep thrusts before pulling out, stroking himself while breathy moans and pants left his lips. his free hand came down to knead the flesh of your ass again, biting his lip and placing another smack on it. his breath became shaky and white drops of cum painted your skin. he watched the way his release dripped down your backside, smiling to himself, admiring it like he was an artist looking at his best piece of art.

“lemme get you cleaned up baby” he panted, getting up from the bed and grabbing a napkin, gently dabbing off the remains of the of the incredible backshots you’d just received, his other hand rubbing the red marks on your ass he left soothingly. as soon as he was done, you flopped down flatly on your stomach, chris following suit, laying down next to you after cleaning himself up too.

“you really love ass huh?” you breathed out a chuckle. he smiled, laying on his side, his fingers tapping your hip, “lay on your side?” his voice soft. you turned to your side, his body instantly cuddling up to yours from behind, his face nuzzling into your neck. “we’re not going for round two, are we?” you laughed, earning a chuckle from him. “nooo, jus’ wanna cuddle” he mumbled into your neck. his hand came down to your ass cheek, kneading it, then moving it up and down in his hand, making it jiggle.

“then what’s that?” you chuckled, grabbing his hand to stop him, a disapproving grumble leaving his lips as he smacked your hand away and continued. “i can play with it.” he protested. you couldn’t help but chuckle again, “chris i’m tired” but chris didn’t budge, his hands continuing to play with your ass, whining out, “but it’s so soft”

dividers by @adornedwithlight !

@middlepartmatt @emely9274 @impossiblecollectorcat @staargazr @sllutty-sturniolo @shadowthesim237 @sturns-mermaid @courta13 @grace-sturnz @sofia-is-a-sturniolo-triplet-fan @ncm9696 @rcklessheavn

[erwinsvow]

would rafe ever let reader wear his rings? idk that’s just so hot and i feel like rafe would be the type 😭

godd pussy started doing jumping jacks!! your brain>>

curled up next to rafe, still sweaty and sticky all over but not even close to tired, you trace patterns on his skin with your fingers. it's quiet in tannyhill except for the two of you breathing.

you thought rafe must be deep in thought the way he's gone so quiet, but when you look up from your position to see what he's doing or if, unsurprisingly, he's fallen asleep, you catch him staring right at you.

flustered, face warm, you press back against his chest, blinking fast. your fingers continue their path, now on his forearm, drawing little hearts and hoping he doesn't realize. you go further, all the way to his hand, and though you've been in this position a million times, do this or something similar almost every night, it feels different for some reason.

you run your fingers down the back of his land, looping around his fingers. they catch around his rings, and you move your own hand away when rafe stops you, grabbing your hand and keeping it in place.

"sorry," you let out quietly, wondering if he decided he didn't like the feeling. though you're still held in place against his body, you don't need to see him in order to know he's staring down at you, the way he always does, with the look that makes your heart thud so fast you can hear it in your ears.

"stop apologizin'," he murmurs, pressing a warm kiss to your forehead. he keeps your hand next to his, and you can't help yourself, pressing your palm flat against his.

"your hands are big," you comment, liking the way the two of you are touching everywhere right now—legs entangled and palms together. he doesn't say anything, doesn't have to. rafe moves your hand, holding it next to his, using his other to slip his rings off.

without any words at all, he slips one of them, his golden signet, onto your ring finger. helplessly big, it falls down to the knuckle. if you move an inch, it would fall off. the other ring falls onto your index finger. you extend your hand, admiring how they look on you.

"too big, rafe," you say it with a laugh, not able to hold it back any longer.

"shit. lemme see." rafe takes your hand, holding it a little out and then closer. "jus' a little bit. looks good on you though."

"all your stuff looks good on me," you breathe out, suddenly feeling like there's no air left in your lungs. rafe just slipped his own ring onto your ring finger, your left ring finger. words and thoughts leave you, focused on nothing but rafe.

"that's right. don't worry, kid, i'll get you one that fits soon enough."

your heart beats even faster, realizing what he means. you smile up at him.

"i don't want a new one. i just want yours."

the next morning, there's a pretty chain and his golden ring waiting for you on the nightstand. both of you know that once you put it on, it's never coming off.

[killxio]

no good | onyankopon

word count: 520 [2 min read] | ✪ content warning: fingering, cum eating, clit slapping, slight manhandling, established relationship

onyankopon x reader / boyfriend!onyankopon x reader

✭ boyfriend! ony fingers you on his lap and slaps your clit.

your boyfriend onyakopon is back to the headboard and you’re ontop off him, getting the sonic coins finger-fucked out of you and holding onto your orgasm for dear life as per threatening demand.

“oooohh shhhitt,” you mewl, pushing yourself up by grabbing his thighs and trying to escape his fingers.

ony lands a swift slap to your clit and wraps his free hand around your neck, “stay fuckin’ still. you’n wanna know what i’ll do t’you if i gotta cuff you mama.”

the stinging sensation halts your movements and has you back on his lap, ass jiggling over his hard dick.

you’re left wondering what you could’ve possibly done today to deserve this, and truthfully you’ve been on your best behavior, ony just wanted to fuck you real good tonight and he couldn’t do that if you kept squirming away.

you kick your feet out, thrashing slightly until his grasp on your neck tightens and his legs push yours down.

but the issue here is ony wasn’t just prepping you- he was teasing. torturing, even. telling you to hold onto your orgasm so you’d squirt on him. he wanted you messy tonight without the wait of making you cum a bunch of times over, he just wanted you to wet up his dick.

“pa- daddy ohmygoddd please jus wanna cummmm, please please please please” ony smirks at your sudden switch to daddy instead of papa, knowing he’s pushing you further into submission.

“if i let you cum you gon’ squirt on me, baby? make it real wet princess or you gotta keep holding it.” he asks, pausing between the question and the sentence to start kissing your neck and the valley between it and your shoulder.

“hahhh- yes baby, m’finna squirt for you jus lemme- please i…” you’re cutting yourself off, loosing your train of thought as your wetness runs down his knuckles and between his fingers.

he releases your neck and instead moves to rub your dripping pussy, massaging your clit. the added stimulation of the bud sends you into your orgasm, arching your back off of him as he rains down praise upon you.

“let it out, that’s my good girl. such a good fuckin’ girl for me, huh?” he asks, knowing you’re not going to answer him, you can’t answer him.

his and your sleep clothes have been long discarded— so your wetness is wets the sheets, his dick and a little of his lower abdomen. mostly his hands and tattooed, veiny forearms that he’s yet to remove from your cunt.

he continues penetrating you through your orgasm, eventually slowing down along with the circles his fingers are making around your clit, no longer being able to keep the tight circles he was making as your orgasm was making it too slippery.

you spasm once or twice, taking harsh and heaving breaths, as he slips his fingers out of you and slides them into his mouth, choking you lightly in the process.

“tastes so fuckin’ good…” he pops them out and his lips are now glossed, “now let’s get you to do it on my dick.”

[mrschristensen]

Sam + Scott as Twins...

I know I haven't posted before, so... Hi! I wanted to possibly start writing on here, and see if anyone liked it. However, I will start by saying I don't write for specific people, I usually just write without "reader" or I write with my OC. I thought I'd just give it a try and see where it goes. So I hope you enjoy! <3

WARNINGS: female (the person who's getting fucked; not "y/n" or "reader" but you can imagine it), porn w no plot, no "established" relationship (until the end), incest (ish?), p in v, oral (m receiving), heavy mentions of breeding (+ birth control mentioned), creampie, degradation/dirty talk, praise, spanking/impact play, slight nipple play, backshots, pet names (baby, princess, honey, slut), aftercare, lmk if I missed any!

WC: 1,069 (haha 69)

"So you really are into both of us," SAM taunts as he drills into her from behind, making her lose his brother's dick from her mouth. He smirks victoriously as SCOTT grunts in frustration, yanking her upper body closer to him. His twin doesn't let that slide, however, gripping her hips even tighter and basically slamming her into him. Her cries of both pleasure and pain were music to his ears, smacking her ass and kneading it to watch it jiggle.

"Jus' lemme at least get the fucking tip in," SCOTT says with a hint of irritation, having to move forward himself now to get closer to her oh so heavenly face.

"How do her tits look?" Sam asks as he relentlessly continues his assault on her cunt, completely ignoring his brother's complaints. He was blinded by his drive for release and pure lust.

"Can't really see 'em from this angle," he replies, tapping her cheek with his throbbing cock head, signaling her to open her mouth.

SAM smacks her ass even harder, making her whine loudly at the feeling of the cold rings on his fingers colliding with her skin. "Arch your back more, slut," he commands, "wanna let him see those gorgeous tits all on display, hm?"

She does as she's told, holding onto SCOTT for dear life now. Her breasts bounced with each erratic thrust, taking at least half of his length as he moved forward a tad bit more, his eyes glued to her.

"That's it, good girl," he groans in praise, his hands tangling in her hair. "Make me feel so good."

"Look at you," SAM growls in her ear, bending down to her current position as he continues to pound her, "so pretty, all for us. Who knew you were such a naughty girl? Taking both of us at the same time..."

"And doing a damn good job at it," SCOTT pants, thrusting into her mouth at the same pace as his brother. Tears started to well up in her eyes, too far gone in pleasure to care.

"Fuck, I'm gonna cum," SCOTT warns, his movements becoming sloppier and more desperate.

"Hold on, 'm almost there," SAM says quickly, increasing his pace impossibly faster, making her moan and create noises of pleasure around his brother's cock. The vibrations got him even closer, knowing he can't hold on for much longer.

"She's close too, can feel it," SAM laughs, grabbing one of her tits and rolling the nipple between his fingers, "taking my cock so good. You gonna milk it, baby? Milk it for all my cum?"

She nods frantically, kissing SCOTT'S tip a few quick times before he shoves his member back into her mouth.

"Gonna be so full, huh?" SCOTT chimes in, smirking a bit.

"Fuck yeah she is," his brother replies, pounding her cunt even harder, "wish she didn't take that stupid birth control. Coulda made her a mommy."

Her walls clench at his dirty words, and he notices quite quickly. "You want that, huh? You want me to get you pregnant with my baby?" he chides, feeling on the brink of release. He could cum from just the thought. "Yeah you do, grippin' me like a fuckin' vice." He looks up at SCOTT. "She prolly wants to get swollen with our baby."

They both smirk at each other, keeping it in mind for another time.

"C'mon, princess," SCOTT encourages, "we're cumming together."

They both keep a fast pace as her muffled mewls are barely heard around his dick, and all three of them climax at the same time, both her pussy and her throat getting pumped with seed.

"Yes!" SAM grunts, both boys tilting their heads back in pleasure, slowly continuing to thrust.

After they come down from their highs, they look down at their girl below them, and the absolute mess her cunt made. Her and SAM'S thighs and some of his abdomen was drenched, as was the floor below. She definitely squirted. Just the simple fact that they brought her that pleasure just made them want to have a round two. But not now.

"Fuck, that was better than I thought it'd be," SCOTT pants, pulling out of her mouth gently and tilting her head up, her teary eyes meeting his blue. "You okay, love?"

She nods slowly, dazed by her intense orgasm, "Yeah... 'm okay."

He smiles a bit, leaning down to kiss her, tasting a slight it of his cum in her mouth.

Reluctantly, SAM pulls out and spreads her cheeks with his thumbs, watching his cum drip from her insides. The sight turned him on even more.

"Don't think I've ever came that much in my life," he comments with a deep chuckle, looking at his brother, "grab a plug from the drawer."

When she heard his words, her eyes widened slightly, but she didn't oppose it. She was on birth control, after all.

SCOTT grabbed a plug, one with a nice, shiny gem on it, and tossed it to SAM, who used his fingers to scoop up and fuck the cum back into her hole.

Still sensitive, she whined and bucked her hips, but he kept her in place, and SCOTT returned right in front of her, bringing her face up once more to keep her bent over for his brother.

"Shh, it's okay," he shushed, tracing her jawline as SAM finished his work and slowly inserted the plug into her pussy.

"You probably feel so good right now," he says with a snicker, bringing her up so now her back is against his chest. "Took us like a champ."

She hummed in content with a small, tired smile, resting her head on his chest as well. He leaned down and kissed her passionately, and SCOTT came in and lifted her by the legs, causing her to yelp.

The two of them just held her there for a few moments, basking in the afterglow together before laying down on the bed with her.

SAM massages her hips as she clings onto him, and SCOTT embraces her from behind, stroking her hair, all while they both give her kisses along her body.

"Wish this could last forever," she says quietly, sighing. The two boys then look at each other, and nod; they knew they wanted this too.

They lean in a bit more, their lips brushing against her ears. "Then let's make it last forever."

(sorry if this was bad!)

[anystalker707]

'missed you

Pairing: Rosinante "Corazón" Donquixote x [gn, amab] Reader Kinktober prompt: Over a desk Tags: bottom Cora / gets fucked during a call / he's whiny as hell / penetration, mainly

KINKTOBER LIST MASTERLIST

          “Mmph, y’know, I— I’ve a call to make—” Corazón could barely speak, gasping as he felt your lips on his neck, sucking and nibbling on his sweet spot while your hands slipped under his shirt. He couldn’t help it, melting under your touches and hugging you close despite his complaints. The great admiral Corazón didn’t expect a little visit from his favorite officer after a long while like that, but he wasn’t going to lose that opportunity either; he just wished the timing had been different.

You didn’t answer. Corazón knew you wouldn’t, in the first place, but there was an attempt. He wished he could just sit at his desk and let himself be pampered by you, feeling your hands trail up his torso while you nipped on his collarbones. He whimpered a little, loosening his grip around you lightly to make opening his shirt easier.

“I missed this so much,” you whispered, looking at Corazón. His lipstick was all smudged, meaning your lips were smudged as well; they’d even stained the collar of his shirt at some point. “Were you waiting for me, Cora? Were you looking forward to me visiting you again? Were you receiving my reports and looking at pictures of me?” You smiled as his cheeks burned brighter red, and you gave his cheek a playful bite. “Were you touching yourself at thoughts of me?” Your words whispered into his ear like that made Corazón moan as he pressed closer against you, wordlessly looking for more of your touches.

“No need to be so shy, Cora,” you chuckled, kissing down his jaw, his neck, and eventually reaching his chest. His skin rose in shivers under your touches as you caressed his torso, letting your fingers linger on his chest for a little longer. “Tell me.”

“(Y/n),” Cora sighed, holding on to the back of your neck, and pressing his nose to yours. “You’ll be the death of me.”

“Don’t you love that?” A chuckle escaped your lips, but he silenced you with another kiss, groaning when your thumbs rubbed circles into his hips. “Low waist jeans? Were you waiting for me?” You teased, tugging on his bottom lip with your teeth—his eyes narrowed as he glared at you.

“No, I was waiting for the cute officer who just got transferred,” Corazón said, just to be cut off by a moan the moment you squeezed him through his jeans. You glared back at him while unbuttoning his pants, gaze sharpening at how he chuckled at you. He cupped your cheek and brought you for another kiss, opening his lips to let your tongue slip into his mouth; it made him groan softly, letting out another sound when your hand slipped into his boxers.

Your hand was tight around Corazón’s cock, pumping it up and down slowly, making his thighs quiver every time your hand neared his tip. He whimpered with it, melting a little until he gasped and widened his eyes. He looked over to the clock on the wall.

“Fuck, I jus’ got a few minutes,” Cora mumbled as he held tightly onto your shoulders. “Let— Lemme—” He gasped again when your thumb pressed to his tip, smearing the pre-cum all over his tip.

“Relax,” you whispered to him. He looked at those lips of yours, swollen from the kissing and smudged with his lipstick. How was he supposed to resist it?

Sometimes, all it took was some sweet words and the right touches to make Corazón go along with what you wanted; despite the soft complaints, he eventually let you remove his pants and boxers, and he still kept the lube in the same corner of the same drawer of his desk. He leaned back on his elbows and put a foot on the corner of the wooden surface, not minding the papers on the way—he just wanted you to touch him, improving his shitty week considerably.

Corazón’s eyes followed you carefully, observing you lube your fingers before they were pressing to his hole, only tracing it at first, feeling it flutter under your fingertips before the first finger sunk in. A whimper escaped his lips as his fingers curled around the edge of the desk. He really had missed this.

“Heh,” you muttered, eyes fixed between his legs. “Been having fun while I’m away?”

“Am I supposed to wait while you’re away for weeks?” Cora retorted in the same tone, but he was cut off by his own hiss when your finger curled up inside him, grazing right against his prostate. “Cruel,” he whispered.

You breathed a chuckle, pushing in a second finger and scissoring inside him. “I mean, you deserved to be treated worse, but I’m in a good mood today.”

Corazón scoffed, shaking his head a little, but he couldn’t keep up the posture for long, moaning and arching his back a little. His fingers could never do such a great job, reaching so deep inside him, pressing to all the right spots. “Mmph, (y/n),” he breathed, gulping. “‘Feels so good,” he whispered.

“I know.” Your free hand caressed the smooth skin on the inside of his thigh, kneading a little on it.

A little whine of complaint came from Cora, with the feeling of emptiness that replaced your fingers. He blinked a couple of times and looked at you, eyes widening a little once he saw you were pumping your cock this time, lubing it up. It made him shift in anticipation.

One hand held on to his hip while the other guided your cock into Cora, but you were soon holding both of his hips for leverage to slowly push inside him. Cora was very vocal, of course—he’d always been, ever since you’d fucked him for the very first time, being a whiny mess—, spilling moans already as you pushed inside him and his knuckles turned white around the edges of the table. You felt so good inside him, making him feel so full, so good.

Your name came from Corazón in broken moans once you started to move, pulling out until just the tip was in before you slowly pushed into him again—you did a few more times, pouring some more lube on your cock once, before finally picking up a good pace. Corazón moaned, biting on his lip as he watched you. Your grip switched from his hips to the underside of his thighs so that you could press them back against his torso; he gasped at the new angle, eyebrows knitting together as his mouth fell open.

“Fuck,” Cora let out a long moan, shifting his hips a little. It felt so good having you fuck him, so nice and good, again.

Your fingers tightened around his thighs, sinking into the pale skin, and your grip didn’t falter even when Cora gasped and tensed up at the sound of the den den mushi ringing.

“I forgot!” He gulped and looked at you, eyes wide. “Mmph, (y/n), I gotta— I gotta answer this, please…!”

“Well then, answer it.” You scoffed, chuckling a little at the way his eyes widened in desperation because you just didn’t stop fucking him. The pace wasn’t fast, but it wasn’t exactly slow either.

“Please,” Cora groaned, squirming a little. “Please, (y/n), I really have to.”

“Just do it, Cora,” you said as you thrusted a little harsher, making him gasp and whimper. He really had no choice.

Cora uselessly tried to take deep breaths, biting his lip as he grabbed the mouthpiece. “Hello,” he said, voice tight.

“Rosinante,” the voice said from the other side. Was that Sengoku? Well, it didn’t matter to you. “Is everything alright?”

A breathless, awkward chuckle came from Cora as his eyes averted to you; your gaze remained the same, eyeing him challengingly as you never stopped fucking him. He fucking sucked at keeping his noises to himself—ironically—, and you knew that. He hated you so much for it, but he couldn’t hide the fact it somehow turned him on, making him clench around your cock so deliciously as he tried to think about an excuse.

“Fire,” Corazón said, breath hitching in his throat for a moment. “The cigarette fell in the trashcan.”

Sengoku started giving Cora a lecture about not giving him copies of documents if he burned them again, but you didn’t know how it ended. It didn’t matter, their talk turning into unimportant background noises as you looked down, watching your cock disappear into Cora’s tight ass. He was probably observing you; he got tighter, and his cock twitched, leaking more against his lower stomach. There was a small pool of pre-cum there already. He was so needy and easy that it was pathetic.

Despite how hard it could be, you did your best to keep your own moans to yourself, holding your breath or biting your lip whenever one threatened to escape.

Corazón’s leg was heavy over your shoulder, hanging on it so that you could free one of your hands while still having him wide open for you. You wanted to touch his cock, and give his flushed tip some much-deserved attention. Who were you to deny all the pleasure possible to your man?

Your lips left soft kisses on Corazón’s leg as you finally wrapped your hand around him, only giving him a couple of experimental strokes at first. Maybe you were as cruel as Cora had claimed you were, but it still wasn’t that much—look, you were even being careful with his cock, only jerking him off slowly as you pushed your own inside him repeatedly, all while he was on the phone. He deserved such a good treatment.

It was nice to fuck him while he was on the phone, but you still wanted to hear his moans openly and have a vocal reference of how good you were fucking him. At the same time, you couldn’t have waited. You were already inside him when the den den rang, and it was certain Cora wouldn’t enjoy the idea of interrupting it all either. His complaints were just a silly act.

“I—I really gotta go,” Cora said into the mouthpiece, and the new higher-pitched tone caught your attention again. His blonde strands stuck to his forehead and his neck, his eyes hanging half-lidded as he spoke. Some of his blue makeup started to smudge as well. He was fucking wrecked, and it was your job. “I, um, I’ll tell you if anything happens.”

Sengoku’s last words were left ignored, carrying a tone of anger, and soon silenced by the sound of the den den mushi hanging up.

“I hate you!” Cora moaned first thing, once it was just the two of you again. He ran a hand through his hair before he returned his grip to the edge of the desk. “I’d told you that— Mmph…”

“No need to complain, Cora, it’s already happened,” you mumbled, grinning, and your thrusts started gaining a faster pace. It was hard to hold yourself back, so you weren’t exactly careful when changing the speed, which had Corazón whimpering more. “Do you feel good, Cora? Am I good enough? Do I please you?” A moan escaped your lips as you tightened your grip around his cock to pump it according to your thrusts. “Mm, tell me, Cora.”

“Y—Yes,” he gasped, just giving up on holding himself up and letting his back meet the papers on the desk instead. His back arched as he pressed his eyes shut, and you could feel his cock twitching in your hand. “Y’make me feel so, so good,” he babbled, only coming to a stop when your thumb pressed to that spot under his tip—he hissed and cursed, toes curling at how good it felt. “Mm, ‘m close, please,” he gasped, voice growing whiny. So cute.

Who were you to deny that? That familiar feeling had already started to build in your lower stomach a while ago, so you just kept thrusting into him with the same intensity, seeking for your high as your hand kept working around his cock.

Cora kept pleading, whiny moans spilling from his lips one after the other according to how close he got. “Fuck,” he said, voice breathy and shaky, as he spilled all over your hand and over his torso as well—his cum was thick, and there was a lot of it. The sight of it, summed up by how he clenched around you do deliciously, had you cumming as well. You gasped, squeezing his thigh tightly as you kept thrusting until you rode out your high, making sure not to drive Corazón into overstimulation—at least yet.

Both of you breathed heavily, trying to ground yourselves back to reality properly, slowly coming out of your bubble. Your hand let go of his cock, and you caressed his thigh again, rubbing soothing circles into it with your thumb.

“‘Missed you,” you whispered, kissing his thigh softly.

.𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟.

[fbfh]

please please please, i can NEVER find any good Magnus Chase smut, you’re the only ones who’s really even dabbled in it and it was amazing so please feed me in the world with little to no good Magnus chase smut 😭

as with ALL nsfw works all characters are aged up to 18+

OOOOOH BITCH YES. again I don't do a ton of Magnus cause I don't wanna mischaracterize him but yall are so sweet with your feedback so lemme throw this out there for your consideration. (also all feedback on characterization is welcome jus pls be specific lol)

Magnus fucks you like it feeds him. He fucks you like he's relieved and hungry and even though his fat cock is stuffed inside you hitting every spot that makes your head spin, it's like you're the one that fills him up. Magnus really wants to be the type of guy who holds onto you, who caresses your face and touches you all cute and soft and lovey dovey but GOD he devolves so quickly. He's gripping the sheets, he's shaking and grunting and panting, he's swearing up a storm that would make a sailor blush because you feel so goddamn good, you're so safe and soft and familiar. You feel like home. And tragically for your ability to walk the next day, he is fucking INSATIABLE. he's gonna be using his mouth and hands all over you until you practically have rug burn from his stubble tickling your thighs. hand cramps??? who's that???? this bitch will practically rewire his brain to stop sending cramp signals if it means he gets to touch you a little longer. once he's finally finally finally done (which again will take quite a WHILE) he flops on top of you completely spent. he lets out the biggest, rumbliest sigh and falls asleep on top of you like a bear in hibernation. Magnus is your personal weighted blanket, and will make you forget that sex toys even exist. Magnus fucks you so good, so much that you will literally forget how to get yourself off without him. it's a real problem when he's away killing monsters and saving the world and running from the cops, but he just finds it so fucking adorable. he sends kisses and promises to make it up to you as soon as he's back.

[svweetbro]

god i miss him

[lalunanymph]

having some deep 💭 about ex-husband!reiner... ft. fem!reader

ex-husband!Reiner regrets letting the demons of his past come in between him and the love of his life, causing him to lose out on the person he cares for the most.

ex-husband!Reiner sees you looking happier in your instagram posts, the apples of your cheeks healthier and glowing.

ex-husband!Reiner drinks too much and shows up at your door, completely slurring his words, begging for you to let him back into your life.

ex-husband!Reiner apologises over and over again for the shit he put you through and promises 'jus lemme come back home, sweetheart, and i'll be a better man—i swear.'

ex-husband!Reiner falls into your embrace when you give a teary, little nod and brings you to his chest, hiccuping about how much he loves you.

ex-husband!Reiner gets down on his knees and starts eating you out soft 'n' slow, worshipping your pretty pussy like the goddess you are in his eyes.

ex-husband!Reiner whispers how much he wants you as he's pumping his thick cock in and out of your slick walls, small puffs of his breath hitting the sensitive strip of your neck, moaning about how much you turn him on.

ex-husband!Reiner promises to finish inside of you—to give you the family you always wanted and he was initially afraid of having—because he wants nothing more than to have you back; to see you pretty and plump with his babies.

ex-husband!Reiner folds you into a mating press and lovingly kisses your tears away even as he destroys your pussy, coaxing you to the edge of your third orgasm.

ex-husband!Reiner holds you close to his chest again, where you fit like the missing puzzle piece against his jagged edges, and he promises that he'll be here the next morning.

ex-husband!Reiner sneakily slips your wedding ring back onto your finger as you're asleep, and when you wake up to the glorious sight of his messy blonde hair and hopeful eyes, he barely asks you if you want to do this again when you pull him in for a breathless kiss.

ex-husband!Reiner who's no longer your ex-husband and your husband once more—who watches with fond eyes as you curve a hand around your swollen belly, glowing with health as you lift up two different pantone colour strips for the nursery wall, your wedding band glinting from the calming rays of a hopeful morning as you ask him: 'which shade d'ya think is perfect for baby bert?'

© lalunanymph. do not copy and repost. rbs are appreciated!

[saetoshis]

[‹ SMOKING OUT THE WINDOW! ›]

[‹ WITH ›] aki hayakawa!

[‹ SUMMARY ›] aki can't help how turned on he gets when you smoke with him!

[‹ MATURE CONTENT WARNINGS ›]

afab!reader, smoking/cigarettes, dry humping, shotgun kissing, riding, pet names [baby, angel], creampie, soft dom!aki

it's like he's inviting you in.

his thighs spread out on the plush chair, the unruliness of his hair against his shoulders, his head craned back with a cigarette hanging carelessly between his lips - you barely process how instinctively you move to nuzzle in his lap, fingers dancing over the loosened tie hanging from the collar of his shirt.

"need somethin'?" aki rasps out against his cigarette, a hand slithering around your lower back to drag smooth touches under the hem of your shirt. he takes a slow drag, the embers glowing orange as his eyes flutter shut.

"mm, no," you quip back, two fingers snatching the pleasure of his inhalation to take a lethargic drag from it yourself. aki's eyebrow twitches, but it doesn't take long until his expression turns into one of pleasant surprise when your lips press against his to blow the hazy smoke into his open mouth. "jus' wanted a hit."

"mm, yea? then why do i feel you twitchin' in my lap down there?" aki mutters nonchalantly, one hand snaking into your hair and grasping the roots as the other holds the cigarette to your lips. his grip tightens in your hair, tilting your head back to look up at him as you huff a shallow inhale. "you wanted a hit, c'mon... take it for me."

it doesn't take much longer of aki's tantalizing teasing until you're restlessly wiggling your hips in his lap, the sting of smoke tickling your throat. after an unceremonious flick of the cigarette butt to the floor, his hands are gripping your hips and helping you grind against the bulge in his pants.

"shit... got me all hard, angel," aki murmurs out as he leans back, eyes flittering along your hips swirling in his lap. after minutes of his hips grinding up to meet yours with breathy groans and impatient sighs, he's finally slipping his cock out of his pants with a rasp of "wanna see you fuckin' ride it."

you can't hide the greedy smirk on your face from how conspicuously worked up aki is, his cock twitching in your fist as you let your hips slip down his shaft. even though it feels like you have all the power, his grip on your waist bouncing your body on his cock just the way he wants tells you another story.

"s-shit," the unrelenting sensual grinds and slaps of his hips against yours make your breath hitch, breathlessness sitting deep in your lungs as you whine and whimper. the pretty grunts spilling out of his mouth make your cunt tighten around him, tingles slithering through your body as he fucks you just how he knows you like it.

"'s what you wanted, hm? just like this, yeah?" aki groans out breathily, thumb circling along your clit as he rocks his hips up into yours faster. as much as he adores the look in your eyes when you're drowning in blankness on his heavy cock, he can't help the twitch of his climbing orgasm as he grinds you in his lap more desperately. "mm- gonna fuckin' make me cum when you feel like that..."

"fuck- wanna feel you cum inside, aki," you whimper as you rock down onto him, his cock poking up into the hilt of your pussy with every lewd smack. your hands shudder against his chest as he ruts into you faster, eyebrows furrowed and mouth gaped open as you both chase your highs together. "need to cum with you..."

"myeah? gonna cum all over me, baby? c'mon, lemme see it," aki grunts between panted breaths, lip tucked between his teeth as he feels your slick burgeon along his shaft. "fuckin' cum for me..."

"hah- shit, c-cumming for you," you whimper as your voice cracks and lilts, the drag of his heavy cock against a sensitive spot leaving you shuddering and falling into euphoria as you tense and throb around him. he doesn't dare slow down, fucking you with grunts spilling through gritted teeth as he helps you ride it out. "wan' you to cum for me, too..."

"mm- shit, yeah... gonna cum inside so hard, mhm," aki groans out with shallow moans, hips snapping into yours like a man possessed as his cock twitches and pressure coils in his shaft. it's with a crack in his voice and his hips rutted up to bottom out that he finally cums, ribbons seeping between your walls and painting a white circle around his shaft.

"fuck- should steal my cigarettes more often, baby..."

2022 SAETOSHIS.

taggin : @saneminx @enishis @donvampiro @youronlygirl-riri @b-achiras @aveegrex @boyfrwenz @garoujo @bvnnichuu

[amor-immortalem]

Mammon’s sick day part 2

Previous

Warning: illness

As they were nearing the House, Mammon reached up and pressed the switch that controlled the garage door to his room. Once they were there, he went a head and clicked it again to shut it. Slowly, the demon gets out of the car before another nasty fit of mucsey coughs took a hold of him once again. It almost sounded like he was starting to choke on all the built up flem.

She looked at him with concern in her eyes. “Here, go lie down. Where do you keep your medicine at?”

“It’s in my bathroom in the cabinet behind the mirror. I’m gonna change outta my uniform so lemme know when yer comin’ down the stairs…” the demon mumbles as he makes his was down his stairs, swaying slightly as he walked.

In the bathroom, she was shocked to see what must’ve been seven or eight empty bottles of cough syrup lining the counter top. Either Mammon had been sick far longer than he let on or he was overdosing himself on the syrup.

When she opened the medicine cabinet, there had to have been another 10 bottles stored in there. The pink haired succubus grabbed a bottle and left the bathroom.

“Hey, I’m coming down the stairs now, are you decent?”

“I got pants on if that’s what yer askin’,” Mammon calls as he walks out of his giant walk-in closet.

“You’re morally decent for a demon too, you know…” she deadpanned, “but yes I meant were you changed out of your uniform?”

He’s dressed in at least three layers possibly more as he collapses down in his bed, pulling the heavy covers over his shivering body.

“I got your medicine…. Mams, how long have you been sick?”

“Don’t remember… a while…” he sits up, the covers still draped over shoulders as he took the cough syrup and popped off the cap, taking a large swig of the liquid straight from the bottle like it it was a water bottle instead.

“Mammon! Don’t take so much at one time. That’s not safe.”

“I’ll be fine,” the Greed demon dismisses her worries. “Gotta get over this as fast as possible.”

Addin only sighed, “do you want me to make you some soup or something?”

“No, no, I’m fine,” he says as he lays back down. “I jus’ need ta sleep it off. Plus all the soup was already spoken for by my brothers. I don’t wanna take from them anymore than I already do and I got my ramen anyway if I need somethin’ hot ta eat. If ya wanna go back ta school, I don’t mind. I’m used ta dealin’ with this type a thing on my own.”

“Not with me around you’re won’t be. I’m staying at least until one of your brothers gets home.”

“Ya really don’t have to. None of ‘em really believe that I’m as sick as I am so if they find the two a us alone like this, they’re gonna think we were up ta somethin’.”

“Then let them think that.” She huffs, “I couldn’t give a damn what they think and it doesn’t matter anyway because we know it’s not true.” She takes a seat beside the Avatar of Greed. “Just go to sleep and let me worry about them. You just focus on recovering, ‘kay?” She started to gently brushing her fingers through his hair.

“‘Kay,” the white haired demon mumbles as he started to fall into the clutches as sleep.

——————

Who would have known the Avatar of Greed could be so clingy in his sleep? So seemly touch-starved that almost as soon as he had fallen asleep he was clinging onto Addin’s waist.

In a way, the pink haired demoness isn’t so much as surprised as she is sorrowful. She knew Mammon’s home life wasn’t that great and his relationship with his brothers wasn’t the best- but to be so starved for affection- platonic or otherwise- was just horrible. She remembers back to when they first met a few years after he’d fallen from the Celestial Realm and had first transferred into RAD. How it hadn’t taken much to gain his favor and become his friend- only a few kind words and actions.

That was thousands of years ago at this point and Addin often wonders what their respective lives would be like had she not taken that seat next to him on the first day of that term but she’s glad she did.

As Mammon started to stir, he moved away while another horrible fit of coughing overtook him and she pat his back carefully. The way she could feel his skin burning through the three layers of shirts he had on, something that worried her.

Making up her mind, she was able to extricate herself from his grasp as she moved up his stairs quietly to his bathroom where she’s quickly able to locate a dry wash cloth. The succubus drenches it in ice cold water, wringing out the excess before returning to her ailing friend.

She somehow manages to flip him over onto his back and pushes back his bangs to place the cold washcloth over his feverish forehead. That’s when she heard a bang follows by:

“MAAAAAAAAAAAMMMMMMOOOOOONNNN!!! Where are you?!”

“Guess it must’ve got back to him that we cut class…” Addin mumbles under her breath.

“Addin, go.” Mammon groans as he sits up, “Lucifer sounds like he’s absolutely pissed and I don’t want ya getting’ hurt over a piece a scum like me.”

“No, I’m not scared of Lucifer and don’t you dare say that about yourself ever again. Just lay back down.”

Mammon looks like he wants to argue but before he can respond, his bedroom door is thrown open and there’s a very angry Avatar of Pride stomping down the stairs toward them.

“Mammon I thought I-” Lucifer starts to yell but cuts himself off after seeing the shape his brother is in and the glare he’s receiving from the female demon. “What’s going on here?”

“You’re brother is incredibly sick so I brought him home so he could rest.” She locks eyes with the black-to-red eyed demon. “Or are you too blind to see how pale his complexion has gotten and how flushed his face is? Or how he’s shivering from chills caused by a high-grade fever?”

“Who are you to even speak to me in that fashion?” The first-born asks pointedly.

“Someone who actually cares about Mammon’s well-being.” She growls as she holds Lucifer’s gaze. “When apparently none of you do.”

“I beg your pardon-“

“Then beg.” Both Avatars stare at her in shock, jaws slightly agape at the female’s boldness.

The silence is broken once more by Mammon’s violent coughing but this time he can’t even catch his breath, wheezing and coughing so hard both demons are worried he may collapse a lung.

“Get up, Mammon.” Lucifer says, holding a finger up to Addin as she opens her mouth to protest in fear he may Mammon to go back to school, “I’m taking you to see a doctor. And you,” he turns to Addin, “you had better be out of my house by time we get back.”

“That’s fine by me,” she huffs, “I was only staying to make sure my friend was okay.” Addin then turns to Mammon, “Feel better, okay? I’ll text you later to see how you’re doing and I’ll bring your coursework by so you don’t fall too far behind. Love you..” She gives him a hug goodbye as she gets up and leaves.

“Love ya too.” Mammon says as he crawls out of bed and goes to retrieve a heavy hoodie, his winter coat, and some shoes while Lucifer waits.

Once Mammon’s all bundled up and ready to go, Lucifer escorts him to the top of the stairs.

——————

The car ride to the urgent care clinic is filled with silence. Lucifer keeps giving Mammon the side eye while also keeping his eyes on the road ahead.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t believe you, Mammon. I thought you were just lying to get out of school so you could pull off another one of your money-making schemes. How long have you been sick like this?”

“I dunno… a month, maybe two? It wasn’t all that bad when it started- thought I just had a cold…”

“Why did you hide it? Had you shown me how truly sick you were this morning, I would have let you stay home no questions asked- in fact you’re always doing this when you get sick however infrequently that may be.”

“I dunno, guess I didn’t want ta worry ya guys or somethin’…”

“I don’t want you hiding sickness from me ever again. If you had let this go on any longer, you could’ve died. We can’t have that.”

“Why? Cuz its an embarrassment?”

“No, it’s because, despite how we may pick on you, we really do care. But when you cry wolf all the time about feeling sick to skip your classes, it makes it harder for me or any of us to know when you’re actually ill.” He says as the car comes to a stop. “We’re here now. Promise me no more of this hiding things from me nonsense.”

“Fine,” the Avatar of Greed opens the door and gets out and the pair walk inside together.

——————

Next

[thisisgonnafuxkinkillme]

Don’t Call Me That Anymore

Toshinori Yagi  x Reader 

Warnings:

Angst, body insecurity, big sad 

Alcohol

SPOILER UNDER THE CUT!

(Post Retirement All might)

You walked alongside your boyfriend, your hand being loosley connected to his via your pinky. You dragged him to your favorite thrift shop, where you often liked to try on fancy abandoned ball gowns and take photos. Or, on days where you felt a little more casual, you’d search for some interesting clothes to wear.

Everything was fine, the little outing going along as usual. He’d generally stay by your side, his eyes wandering from the dull clothes you often would pick through. 

It was when you heard a small gasp that you knew something was wrong. You glanced at the direction of his gaze, seeing an abandoned All Might figure laying on the floor, the price tag displaying proudly that it was 75% off. 

“Even to be on sale at a thrift store, eh?” he mumbled to himself. His hand clutched his chest, trying to physically push the pain down and out of his frail body. You tried to pretend like you didn’t notice, and guided him to another aisle. Silently, you planned to leave as soon as possible.

---------------------------------------days later---------------------------------

You scrolled through your phone mindlessly, not really caring about the outside world this very moment. All that mattered right now was your loving boyfriend, who was sitting on the other side of the couch. He was mindlessly scrolling through the tv channels.

Suddenly, he paused. You didn’t notice it, that subtle shift in his attitude, the slight tension that grew within him, and the tiny hitched breath.

He clicked on it, and on screen was...him. 

“So, All Might, what’s an average day like for you?” some well dressed reporter asked him. He flashed that crowd pleasing grin as he thought.

He had just finished fighting a villian, and had a small droplet of blood dripping down his forehead, threatening to drop into his intense yet amiable eyes.

“Well, I guess it’s like anyone else’s,” he said thoughtfully, “I just get up, drink some coffee, and-” the man on screen dissapeared, being replaced by a woman showing us the weekly weather. Again, Toshi said nothing, but his eyes were dark and his jaw was clenched. You grasped for his hand as he stood up. His knees popped and his back cracked, only reminding further that he was getting older and weaker. He clenched his fist and dissapeared into the bathroom.

You didnt know what to say or do, knowing that the wrong thing will only make things worse. Your heart ached deeply for him, but how could you help? Could you help?

That night, Toshi came home with something he usually never played with: alcohol. By this time, you had already forgotten about the incidents earlier.

“What’re you gonna do with that?” you teased. He smiled back weakly. Internally, his heart dropped. He’d been caught.

“You want some?” he offered nonchalantly. You nodded, taking a small shot. You never drank either, unlike other people your age, so when the alcohol passed your lips and slid down your throat, you couldn’t help yourself from sputtering and coughing. He patted your back gently.

“You alright there?” 

You nod, smiling a little. If you’re honest, things like that were always so embarrasing. You hated him see you act your age. 

He took a shot, too, smooth and quick. He noticed you stare, and grinned.

“I used to...a little, when I was younger.” 

After the last two words, his eyes grew dark again.

when I was younger.

He poured himself another shot, swigging it down like nothing. You still felt the burning warmth of the shot you’d taken. You couldn’t stop yourself from worrying about how he’d probably be feeling right about now.

“Hey, uh, Toshi... don’t drink too much too fast or you’re gonna get sick,” you gently suggested.

“I will be fine...don’t you worry about me,” he reassured. You nodded, but didn’t really believe him. Is he fine anyway?

You relaxed on the couch, playing a video game on the switch as Toshi occupied himself with the tv and a deck of cards. He loved to play solitaire, even after being mocked by the students at UA when he’d bust out his worn deck during breaks. 

Time passed, swiftly yet gently, but the silence got the better of you.

“Hey, Toshi, lemme get another shot of that stuff”

He didn’t respond. You looked up from the game to see that his cards were all mixed up, reds being on reds and the kings on top of the queens. He had his head gently resting on the cold, wooden table, eyes only staring at the tv blankly.

It’d been quite a few hours since he’d had his first shot, and it definately has worn in. Not too far from his card playing set up was a glass, 1/4 full of what you just assumed was orange juice. You now were suspicious, quietly taking it and giving it a sniff. 

It certainly was orange juice, but there was something mixed with it. The alcohol smell burned your nose. 

Your heart dropped, knowing that that orange juice was to the brim when he brought it in. 

“Toshi...”

He flinched at his name, but still didn’t say anything. His eyes, though glazed over and pitiful, were focused on something. You glanced up at the screen, where an All Might documentary played. 

You bent down to Toshi’s level, where he was sitting on the floor in front of the table, combing your fingers through his hair. 

“Toshi, look at me.”

His eyes lazily found your face. He brought up his hand to your cheek.

“I-I’m ffine, dea-darlin..g..” he stumbled out, his speech slurred and laborious. 

“Let’s get to bed, honey. I can help walk you there,” you offered. He protested futilely, as you pulled his arm over your shoulder and supported his weight with yours. He was mostly deadwight, making his 160 pounds feel more like thousands. You guided him down the hall, slowly but steadily, each step taking exponentially longer than a sober one would. He kept one hand on the wall.

His fingers grazed the frame of a photo. He looked at it.

It was All Might, proudly standing with a group of kids. 

Toshi couldn’t hold it in anymore. He stood up, shakily but on his own, and pulled his fist back, swinging at it. Glass landed everywhere, and a small hole in the wall stared back at him. 

He spit at the now broken photo at his feet.

“yo-you’re not e-ven real...n-no-not any...not anymore...I hate you...” he mumbled drunkenly. His hand fell limp to his side, scarlet blood shining against his pale, white skin. And dripping onto the floor.

You tried your best to hide your shock and you directed him into the bathroom, where the first aid kit was. He laid on the floor, pressing his face into the comforting coolness of the linoleom. You wanted to scream at him to knock it out, and to just get up, but you knew that even if he desperately wanted to, he wouldn’t be sober until the next morning. 

You looked down at his small, skinny form, that lay breathing on the bathroom tile. You'd never seen Toshi, in any form, look as weak as he did now. Your heart ached. This wasn’t him.

Suddenly, he shot up and lurched towards the toilet, emptying the contents of his stomach. You rushed over to his side, moving his forelocks away from his face. He was pale, white as a sheet. The bags under his eyes were deeper and darker, and his usually bright blue eyes were dulled down to a muted navy. Tears pooled down his sunken cheekbones.

"n-no...go- get awa...y"

You said nothing, but ran cold water through a washrag, soaking it throughly. He remained hovering over the toilet, violently retching.

The alcohol was attacking his skinnied, sick body more than he thought it would. As you approached him with the rag in hand, he returned to the chilled floor.

You placed the rag on his sweaty forehead gently, rubbing his arm. He pushed you away as best as he could, still crying silently.

"p..ple-please, y/n...d-don't look at me...n-not like...not like this..." He choked out in-between sobs.

"I'm not going anywhere, babyboy. I'm sorry." You apologize, getting out some first aid supplies for his knuckles.

"...please...jus-just..."

You hushed him, gently taking his bloodied hand. He tried pulling away weakly, but to no avail.

"...let me...let me jus...take care of it...I can..." He mumbled. You paid him no mind as you quickly but effectively wrapped him up.

As soon as you were finished, he was back in front of the toilet again. Not much more was coming up, but the sickening retches and sobs still shook within his frail chest.

You bent down next to him, rubbing his back, whispering small words of praise and encouragement. He began to calm down a little as he sat against the wall of the bathroom. He started off into the distance.

"I...why can't I be like...like him anymore?" He muttered,

For a split second, you were confused.

“Like who, baby?”

His eyes stared into you, harsh enough to scald you. Realization hit.

“All Might?” You quietly asked, your hand moving towards his. He slapped it away half heartedly.

“n-no... that’s-he’s not- I-I’m not-“

He began to rip at his hair, his sobs getting louder and more violent. Fear grew inside of you, not knowing how to contain this small man that was so engulfed in despair and grief that he couldn’t see how wonderful he is as a person, not just as a hero.

Toshi got his worth from what he could do for others. He doesn’t feel like he deserves love, especially if he’s not giving it to someone else in just the right way. If he’s not helping anyone, what good is he? And in his smaller form, how could he help anyone?

You grabbed his wrists, making sure he couldn’t hurt himself anymore than he already has.

“Toshinori, please listen to me!” You begged. He went limp. He couldn’t catch his breath, and he was definitely hyperventilating.

“Take some nice, deep breaths for me, okay, sweetie?” You firmly yet sweetly ordered. You set the pace and he followed, his breaths shaky and labored. He calmed down quite a bit, and you loosened your grip on his wrists.

“Do you really love me?” He whimpered quietly.

“Oh, honey... of course I love you. I’ve always loved you, even before I knew who you were. Who you are.”

“You...you were right the first time. Were.”

“No, baby. When you go out in public, people still know you’re All Might, and-“

“Don’t... don’t call me... that name... please, not anymore.”

You didn’t even know how to respond to that. Your heart ached at his pitiful tone.

“Y/n... you don’t know what people... what they say about me now. They laugh and say that I’m just a toothpick. They... they whisper about how I don’t look so good, and about...” he began to cry again. This time, quietly, privately. He curled up into himself, tucking himself away from you and the rest of the world.

“Well, of course people will say things like that,” you began, “did you ever consider that there were some people who criticized All Might, too?”

“...what?”

“Listen, honeybee, people are always going to be saying bullshit like that. No matter who you are. But guess what? There’s always, always going to be more people who are excited to see you, who will always accept you, and who will always see every beautiful gift you have to offer to this world. I know how hard it’s been for you, but you need to know that you’re still so loved, so wanted, so needed in so many people’s lives.”

“Like who? Who could possibly...who could need someone like me?”

“Me. Toshi, I need you here. I love you. We met when you were in this form, in this very body. Don’t you remember?”

He nodded. You wiped away a tear gently.

“I loved you for who you are, not who you were or what you’ve done. For you.”

Shakily, he whispered, “I... I love you, too.”

For the first time that night, he clutched you closer to him. You pulled his head into your chest, as he nestled into you. You couldn’t help but spare a few tears, but he never knew that.

“Are you ready to go to bed?”

He nodded, his grip tightening around your shirt. You helped stand him up on his shakey, baby deer like legs. You led him down the hall, and he paused at the broken photo.

He gestured towards it, mumbling something.

“No, baby, don’t worry about that. I’m going to clean it all up.”

Finally, you arrived at the bed. You pulled back the duvet, readying it for him.

He laid into the soft mattress, sighing in relief.

You tucked him in, standing up. He reached his hand out, begging, “please...don’t leave...me...”

“I’m coming right back, honeydew. I just need to clean up the picture and turn everything off. Okay? Do you need a glass of water or anything?”

He shook his head. “Let... let me clean it up tomorrow, please.”

You ignored all of his pleas for you to leave him be earlier, but something told you that despite his drunken stupor, he really meant this one. You washed your face and tidied up the bathroom, quickly turning off the tv and getting his cards put up, and finally dumping the orange juice cocktail down the sink, along with the rest of the alcohol. Your heart panged, noting the tiny amount remaining in the crystal clear bottle.

Despite him denying his need for water, you brought him a tall glass of ice water along with a smaller glass of ginger ale, as well as a new chilled washcloth.

He was nearly asleep when you got back, but perked up at the sound of your footsteps.

You urged him to drink just a tiny bit of the water, and he obliged. You praised him heavily, placing a kiss on his cheek, before climbing into bed. He turned to face you, pulling you close to him. He kissed you on your forehead before drifting off into a deep, restful sleep.

The next morning, you woke up to an empty bed. You scrambled to get up and rushed into the kitchen, where you found Toshi sipping a modest cup of coffee, the photo of All Might placed in a brand new frame, proudly displayed on the kitchen table.

“Oh, Toshi! You scared me when you weren’t in the bed.”

He looked out the window, sighing deeply. He smiled at you, saying,

“Don’t worry... I am here.”

[tobesolonely]

never have i ever

summary: y/n and harry go on a camping trip, but things don’t go according to plan

a/n: thank u for reading! please reblog/leave feedback if you enjoy! its very encouraging to me :’)

warnings: smut <33 18+ please! mentions of alcohol/drinking as well

word count: ~4k

my ko-fi! thank you :)

Never in your life did you think you'd ever agree to do something as outdoorsy as camping, yet all it took was Harry asking you very sweetly one time, and you immediately agreed. You'd never been one to spend an excessive amount of time with nature. You loved a good sunrise and sunset, just like most people. Sometimes you'd even wake up early and go on a sunrise hike with Harry if he promised to make you breakfast once you were finished. Occasionally, you'd go on walks and runs with him, and spend some time down at the beach. That was the extent of the outdoor activities you'd partake in, though. However, Harry had the grand idea to go camping for the weekend as he had a bit of time off, and this was something he'd been talking about wanting to do for a while.

"Don't you wanna be one with nature? Help me pitch a tent? Get your hands a lil' dirty?" He asked you when you started having second thoughts about going with him, the idea of sleeping on the hard ground inside a small tent a major turn off.

"I mean, I can think of better ways to spend my weekend," you tell him, stirring the pot of soup you were making on the stove. It's the night before you were supposed to leave, and Harry already had the car packed, way too excited to wait any longer. "You know I always get the worst bug bites."

"That's what bug spray is for!" he tells you cheerily, snaking his arms around your waist and placing a wet kiss to your neck. "C'mon, Y/N. I promise it'll be worth it."

You sink into Harry's kisses, feeling wobbly in your knees as it was one of your most sensitive spots— and he knew that. "I suppose it'd be nice to get out of the city for a bit. Jus' me and you, yeah?" You didn't want anyone else to see how out of your element you were in the outdoors as you found it to be a little embarrassing. Harry hums, placing more open mouth kisses on your skin.

"Just me," he pauses to kiss you. "You," another kiss. "And the birds ‘n the bees." You blush, choosing to ignore his sexual innuendo.

"I guess it's too late to back out now, especially since you already took it upon yourself to pack a suitcase for me," you tell him, rolling your eyes and turning off the stove. "I'll give it a try, Harry. Besides, it's only a weekend, yeah? What could possibly go wrong?"

⋆⋆⋆

As it turns out, many, many things could go wrong during a weekend-long camping trip.

Harry told you that you didn't need to pull up directions because he knew where he was going, but you quickly realized that your stubborn boyfriend was hopelessly lost. "I don't think we're heading in the right direction, darling," you informed him from the passenger seat, opening up the Maps app on your phone. "You're positive you don't want me to give you directions? No shame in admitting you're lost."

Harry mutters under his breath, squinting his eyes to look at the freeway signs. He sighs, tightening his grip on the steering wheel. "Think I missed m'bloody exit," he tells you, clearly growing frustrated. "Can yeh tell me where 'm supposed to be, love? I think once I figure out the exit, we'll be good."

You and Harry were choosing to not venture too far out of Los Angeles, but far enough so you would be able to enjoy your time together without prying paparazzi. For this reason, he settled on a spot known to be a little more remote, about 50 miles north of downtown. Once you pull up the directions on your phone, your suspicions are confirmed. Harry was headed in the complete opposite direction, and he missed the exit nearly ten miles back. "Yeah, you're gonna need to take the next exit you see, and then we have to go back in the opposite direction. Just about ten miles too far."

"Ten miles? Lemme see tha'," he holds his hand out for your phone and pulls the car over on the freeway's side, turning on his hazards. "Huh, you're right. How'd we miss that, babe?"

"We missed it because you insisted you didn't need directions," you remind him, exasperated. "I'm from here, and I don't even know how we're supposed to get there!" Harry laughs, re-emerging onto the freeway.

"I guess I should've just let you read me the directions, huh? Don't worry, we'll be there soon. S'what? Ten miles? We'll be there in twenty minutes."

However, twenty minutes quickly turned into forty when you found yourselves stuck in the morning commute traffic. Harry fiddles with the radio as you go 5 miles per hour (on the freeway!), trying not to let the infamous Los Angeles traffic get him down. Although you were a bit behind the schedule he'd created, it was still only 7:30 am. You had the whole day ahead of you, and he couldn't wait to get you out in the wilderness and teach you how to pitch a tent and make the perfect s'more."

Eventually, you make it to the campgrounds. You had to admit that it was absolutely beautiful— tall, looming pine trees, snow-capped mountains, picnic tables, patches of even ground you figured would be perfect to set up the tent on, and even a couple outhouses. Harry gives you a smug look when he sees your awestruck face, glad that he was the first to show you something from your own city.

"It's beautiful up here, innit? So peaceful. Looks like we're here by ourselves too," he gestures towards the empty campgrounds. "Nice and private."

You nod, unbuckling your seatbelt as Harry puts the car in park. "I'm already feelin' more relaxed," you joke, opening the door and stepping out to stretch your stiff limbs. "Should we walk around and take a peek at everything before we get ourselves set up?"

"Yeah, s'good idea," he gets out of the car himself and walks around to you, grabbing your hand. "Maybe we can go hiking later? Hear there's a nice little waterfall somewhere around here. Would love to see that." You hum in agreement, walking along the dry ground, leaves crunching under your feet.

"That sounds nice. I can't believe I've never been here," you tell him incredulously, swinging your hands. "It's so gorgeous. And is it just me, or is the air here like, super crisp?" Harry chuckles, nodding in agreement.

"I don't think it's just you, poppet. We're finally away from all that L.A. smog, can take some nice, deep breaths. This will be great for m'asthma." You laugh, and a comfortable silence falls between you. Occasionally, Harry will say, "Look at tha' bird!" or "That's the biggest tree 've seen in my life!" but you walk in silence, for the most part, enjoying each other's company.

"Do you think we should turn back?" you ask your boyfriend, stopping to look back in the direction you came from. "We've been walkin' for a minute. I don't think we should venture too far from the car." You were starting to grow tired and weren't in the right shoes for walking much longer.

"Yeah, let's get back and get that tent set up. Also gettin' kind of hungry," Harry tells you, turning you back around in the direction you'd come from. "How's tea and eggs sound?"

⋆⋆⋆

"Harry, you've got to be fuckin' kidding me!"

"Y/N, I swear I packed it! It has to be somewhere in here!"

"We've emptied out the entire car, Harry!"

Upon returning to the campsite, your boyfriend was excited to get the tent out of the car, so you could "really get this camping trip started," as he said. Yet, when he went in the trunk of his car to retrieve the tent, it was nowhere to be found. Neither one of you panicked at first, figuring he might've squeezed it in the backseat instead, as the trunk was pretty full. It wasn't there, either. Now, your suitcases and cooler was laid out around the car, but the tent was nowhere to be found. He runs his fingers in frustration through his hair, tapping his foot while he contemplates calling one of his assistants and asking her to bring it to him.

"Harry, don't make her do that. You already told her she could have the weekend off. It's not her fault you forgot it," you scold, digging your shoe's toe into the dirt. "We can just sleep in the car."

"That's so uncomfortable," he mewls, placing your suitcases back into the car. "Maybe we should just go home. We're not off to a very good start, maybe it's a sign?"

"No way, H. I've already called off work to come here with you, we're staying," you insist, reaching back into the car to grab the electric tea kettle you've bought. "Let's get a little breakfast in our stomachs and then go see that waterfall, how's that sound?" Harry gives you a reluctant look but agrees, reaching in the cooler to grab the carton of eggs you've brought along. He grabs the small skillet, albeit your favorite one that you told him not to bring here, and grabs a small charcoal bag to light the grill.

"Have yeh got a lighter on ya?" Harry asks, walking over to the small grill beside the picnic table. You raise your eyebrows at him.

"Me? You didn't ask me to bring it! Are you telling me we can't even light the grill now?" You couldn't believe everything that could go wrong on your camping trip was going wrong, but now it seemed like you wouldn't even be able to prepare hot meals for the next two days.

"Yes, I did, Y/N," Harry argues back calmly, not wanting to raise his voice. "Remember? I bought that long one so it would be easier to use. Said, 'Babe, make sure yeh grab the lighter off the counter.'" You think for a moment and then shake your head, sure Harry did, in fact, not tell you to grab the lighter, and he was just trying to push the blame to you.

"Now what? We can't cook the meat or vegetables all because you couldn't remember to bring the lighter," you tell him sharply, feeling yourself growing more annoyed by the second. You were incredibly frustrated because you weren't keen on the idea of camping in the first place, but you came along anyway, not expecting so many things to go wrong.

Harry closes his eyes for a moment and takes a deep breath, a thing he does every time things start getting heated between the two of you because he hates fighting. "Well, it's at home, and there's not much we can do about it, so 'm sorry for pointin' fingers at you. Did we bring anything we can snack on that doesn't require cooking?" You rummage around in the cooler and find a box of cheese, some cold cuts, a loaf of french bread, and a couple bottles of wine.

"Hows some cheese, bread, and meat sound? We can make little sandwiches," you tell him, pulling out the food. "Maybe some wine?"

Harry chuckles, walking over to you. "Y/N, it's not even 10 am."

"We're on vacation, aren't we?"

He shrugs, walking over to you to grab the bottle of wine. You grab plates, napkins, and a sheet you bought to double as a tablecloth, laying it out atop the picnic table. "'M actually starving," he calls to you from beside the car, reaching to grab two wine glasses. "Can't wait to eat this."

You cut into the loaf of french bread and cheese and add slices of salami and ham, quickly assembling mini sandwiches for you and Harry. "These look good, don't they?" you ask him, half teasing, half-serious. You hand him his sandwich, and he grins, grabbing it from you.

"Looks delicious, Y/N, thank you. Cheers," he gently taps his sandwich against yours, and you both take big bites, moaning at your first taste of food all day. "Want some wine now?" He asks, pouring you each full glasses. He slides the glass in front of you and you grab it, taking a long sip.

"S'good. Where'd you get this one from?" you question, taking another bite from your sandwich.

"Italy," he responds sheepishly, tasting it himself. "I know how to pick a bottle of wine, don't I?"

You giggle at your boyfriend's subtle bragging, continuing to eat your breakfast. You realized that there was no way you and Harry could comfortably spend the whole weekend here camping. You'd most likely have to call it quits before it got dark. However, you were still glad you'd get to spend time with your boyfriend outdoors, eating "emergency sandwiches" and sipping on a 500 dollar bottle of wine.

⋆⋆⋆

"Never have I ever had a one night stand," you say loudly, giggling in the process. You and Harry were both absolutely plastered, having already finished one bottle of wine and working on the second. You've decided to play a good old fashioned game of Never Have I Ever, and it was getting more raunchy the drunker the two of you became. Harry narrows his eyes at you and takes a swig out of the bottle of wine, shaking his head.

"You already know 've had one because I've told yeh about it before, yeh lil' cheater," he exclaims, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "Here's one. Never have I ever shagged in the backseat of a car." You choke on your wine, widening your eyes at him.

"You actually think I've done that? How kinky do you think I am?" you smack him on his arm, laughing at his ridiculous statement. Harry doesn't say anything, running his finger along the rim of his wine glass.

"Here's a more specific one," he leans closer to you, and you can smell the wine on his warm breath. "Never have I ever shagged in the back of my car, in the middle of the woods, while on a camping trip with my girlfriend." His hand goes to rest on your thigh, and you swallow thickly.

"Thought you wanted to go see that waterfall?" you ask him, your words jumbling together slightly. Harry turns to face you, so his legs are on either side of the bench, and he pulls you closer to him by your waist.

"Don't care much for the waterfall when 've got a beautiful woman sat in front of me," he blurts, sucking on the underside of your jaw.

"What d'you want then?" you challenge, tilting your head slightly, so Harry is better positioned to place kisses to your jaw.

"Want you," he responds simply, grabbing your hand and placing it over his growing bulge. "Y'know how wine gets me goin', love." You hum in agreement, palming him through his trousers.

"I know," you respond breathlessly, pulling away from him to down the rest of your wine. "Why don't we go to the car then?" Harry gives you a surprised look, a dopey smile on his face.

"So we're really doin' this then?" He asks, standing up from the picnic table and holding his hand out for you to grab.

"No one's around, why not?" You knew that your sexual boldness came from all the wine you'd consumed, but at that moment, you didn't think there was anything you wanted more in the world than your boyfriend's cock down your throat. "Need to taste you." Harry groans, leading you hastily toward the car. You both stumble to get there in your intoxicated stupor but make it in one piece, giggling and clinging onto one another.

"After you, m' lady," he opens the backseat and curtsies, causing you to both erupt into a fit of giggles. You clamber into the backseat, scooting all the way to the other side so Harry could climb in after you. He shuts the door, and you sit in silence for a minute, catching your breaths. "Tight squeeze back here, yeah?"

"Yeah," you readjust your body, so your back is against the door, and your legs are over Harry's lap. "How are we gonna do this?"

Harry's quirks an eyebrow at you, undoing the button on his pants. "Yeh really wanna just straight into it, don't yeh, minx?" You nod, readjusting your position, so you're now on your knees, having to crane your neck slightly, so you're not hitting the car's roof.

"Let me taste you," you offer, seeing his hard cock straining to get out the confines of his tight clothing. He wordlessly nods and lifts his hips, tugging his pants down to his mid-thigh. He's not as hard as he can get, maybe due to the amount of wine he's consumed, but you know he's nearly there. You reach over to grab him, hands shaking slightly. "Can't believe we're doing this in the middle of the woods. Makes it even hotter, though."

Harry's head falls against the back seat's headrest as you flick your tongue out to capture the drop of pre-cum that was beginning to run down the side of his head. "Take me in y' mouth, Y/N. What are yeh waiting for?"

You place your hands on his thighs and lower your mouth onto his cock, taking him almost entirely in your warm mouth. Harry lets out a loud groan, not even bothering to quiet his sounds of pleasure since he knew no one was anywhere nearby. You come back up for air and lick your lips, giving him a sultry look. "You mean like that?" Harry grips the back of your head and roughly pushes you back down onto him, not in the mood for your teasing.

"Don't be cheeky now, lovie," he warns, bucking his hips up roughly to fuck your mouth. "Yeh want me to help you cum later, don't yeh?" You moan around his cock, not wanting to answer him, so you don't break the rhythm you were going at. As your sex life with Harry grew more adventurous throughout your relationship, you've only gotten better at deepthroating him, able to get him close to his orgasm in minutes. You always joked between the two of you that giving him head was one of your greatest talents, and of course, he never disagreed with that sentiment. You come up from his cock to take another breath, inhaling deeply through your nostrils. Harry immediately pushes you back down onto him without saying anything. He begins thrusting into you with even more vigor than before, and you know he's almost there. "Y/N, 'm gonna cum—"

You pull off Harry's mouth with a loud plop!, lifting up your dress and shoving your underwear to the side. "Can I ride you?" you ask sweetly, already situating yourself over him. Your boyfriend nods, completely flustered from being pushed so close to his orgasm, and then denied the opportunity to cum.

"S'course," he answers with a shaky breath. "C'mere." He grabs your waist and guides you onto his length, helping you sink down slowly. You rest your head on his shoulder, feeling him deep within you. Every ridge, every pulse, the warmth— it makes you feel completely feral. "That's a good girl, Y/N. Takin' my cock like it's nothing, aren't yeh? This is easy for you, hmm?"

You nod against his shoulder, starting to bounce around slowly on him. "So easy, H. Fit inside me so well," you moan, squeezing your eyes shut. "Feels fuckin' incredible, stretchin' me out like this." Harry squeezes onto your sides, leaving bruises in the shapes of his fingers. Harry places a kiss against his lips, slipping his tongue into your mouth.

"You like tha', Y/N? Such a dirty girl, lettin' me fuck ya in the back of my car like this. Kinky lil' thing, you are, pet," he mutters, thrusting his hips up as you slam yourself down to meet him. You nod, moving your hips in a gyrating motion.

"Love it, H. Fuckin' into me so well, fuck," you let out a particularly loud cry when Harry repositions you slightly, hitting your g-spot int he new position he has you in. "Don't stop please, keep going." You urge your boyfriend, throwing your head back. It's incredibly hot in the car, and you realize that maybe you should've cracked open a few windows before starting, but there was no way you're going to stop now to tell him that, not when you were this close.

"Y/N, I'm gonna cum," he cries out, his breathing becoming labored. "Let me have yeh in another position, please, 'm so fuckin' close."

"There's no room," you choke out, squeezing down on him. Harry moans loudly, muttering a quiet "shit" under his breath. He lifts you off of him and lays you down across the backseat, bending your knees up to your chest while he situates himself in between your legs. It's cramped and uncomfortable and hot, but you're so close, just a few thrusts away from reaching your high.

"Put your legs over my shoulders," he demands, resting on hand on the car's headrest while the other grips your breast. You nod and place your legs on either side of his shoulders, now being able to feel him in a completely different way. He re-enters you, so much deeper than before, and you swear you see stars. "Fuckin' hell, Y/N. Love your tight pussy, babe. All fo' me, yeah?"

"All for you, baby," you cry, gripping onto his broad shoulders. "'M gonna cum now, let me cum." You're a begging, writhing mess beneath him, squeezing down on his cock.

"Do tha' again," he asks, his rhythm becoming sloppy and hurried, just wanting to get the two of you off. "I'm almost there too, babe, squeeze 'round my cock again like you just did."

You clench around Harry and he lets his head hang, squeezing onto your breast even harder. "'M cummin', Y/N," he announces immediately before releasing inside you, his warm load coating your spongy walls. Your bite your lip and squeeze around him again, the coil in your abdomen becoming tighter as you quickly approach your peak shortly after he reaches his. You know Harry is exhausted, but he doesn't stop, never wanting to leave you hanging. He reaches in between your bodies and rubs quick circles on your clit with the hand that's gripping the headrest and flicks your nipples with the other hand. "Come on, love. Can feel how close you are, I know you're nearly there."

Harry spanks your clit while increasing his speed, and your eyes roll into the back of your head, your vision going hazy. You feel like you're underwater— his voice sounds muffled and a little far away, and that's how you know the orgasm was good. Your eyes are still shut, and you feel him slowly pull out, trying not to get his seed all over the backseat of his car. After coming down from your high, you open your eyes, a blissed-out smile on your face. "That was incredible." You let out a quiet chuckle, wiping the beads of sweat from your forehead. "Can you open the door? I can hardly breathe in here."

Harry laughs and slowly sits up, opening the door and inhaling the cold morning air. The car's windows were completely fogged up, and you're happy no one was walking by because if they did, they'd definitely know what the two of you had gotten into. "Guess you can't say you've never fucked in the backseat of a car before anymore."

[erwinsvow]

𝐫𝐜 - 𝟏𝟏:𝟒𝟗𝐩𝐦

you roll your eyes—it’s instinct, since rafe is blaring his music again, probably waking up your neighbors and most certainly your parents. no matter how many times you ask him, he’ll never park a few houses away and turn his music down, so now the sound of the vibrating bass and whatever drake song fills the silent street. 

you close your window softly, running over to rafe’s truck as fast as you can to turn down his music. your parents have to know—the noise at this time of night is familiar to your entire block by now, but they don’t say anything. when you climb inside the passenger seat, your hand hovers over his volume knob, trying to lower it but rafe catches your wrist.

“leave it.” he says it sternly, and you understand quickly that it’s not a request, rather a demand. his own little test—how much do you care about everyone realizing you’re sneaking out with him right now instead of being tucked into bed like a good girl? the joke’s on him because you adjust the knob, making the music play even louder, so much so your seat and the windows are vibrating. you smile at him like you’ve just beat him at his own game and he takes off, turning the music down as soon as he turns off your street—eliciting another eyeroll.

he makes a few more turns, and the two of you end up on a quiet street along the beach—one of the many scenic lovers lanes on the island. 

“what’re you going to do if they actually wake up one time?” you question, playing with the strings of rafe’s hoodie that you’re wearing right now. 

“what’d you think i’m gonna do?” he asks, one big hand resting on your exposed thigh, rubbing the soft skin there.

“i don’t like to think about it,” you admit quietly, turning away to stare out the window at the waves. 

“why? y’think i’m gonna beat up your dad, or somethin’?” you laugh, shoving rafe’s arm.

“no, i just-”

“you just what?” you feel your face get hot. it’s easy to forget in moments like these, just the two of you alone and all the rest of the world ignored, that rafe is just that guy your friends hate, and you’re just the girl who sneaks out and lies to her family to see him. 

“i just think you’d drive away. but at least there wouldn’t be a witness, because they’d totally kill me.” you say it with a little laugh, but rafe grips your jaw and pulls you into a kiss—hard, like he’s proving something to you. rafe’s tongue finds its way into your mouth, everything feels hot and wet as you deepen the kiss and hold onto his shoulders. he pulls away to let you breathe, your chest heaving and his hands going underneath your—his—hoodie and pulling it off.

without words, without the need to speak at all except for your moans and rafe’s grunts, you end up folded in the backseat like always, knees hugging your chest, eyes rolling back, while rafe slams in and out of you. all you hear is rafe in your ear, murmuring low and quiet.

“lemme hear ya,” he encourages, and it’s easy to comply without the fear of someone hearing. “louder, baby, louder-” 

you’re not sure how much longer it is, but you somehow can’t avoid ending up like this—shaky limbs, sore throat, and eyes unable to stay open, focusing on the feeling of rafe’s cum spilling out of you and ruining his seats.

he eases you up, like he always does, leaning against his warm body while you try to even out your breaths. in the beginning he used to bring you back to your house, but now you almost always end up at tannyhill with him. your mind is somehow exhausted and overactive, thinking about how you’re gonna sneak back into your room in the broad daylight, since there’s no way you’re leaving tannyhill until after sunrise.

“what time is it?” you mumble against his chest, taking in how rafe strokes your hair. 

“doesn’t matter. go to bed.”

“gotta get back home-”

“i’ll get you home, kid. seriously. sleep, now.”

“g’night, rafe,” you sigh contently, ignoring a little ache in your heart that wishes you could stay here forever.

“and jus’ so you know, there’s nothin’ your parents could say to keep me away from you.”

[blessedlance]

[r18+]

[wc:] 3.3k

[cw:] sub!atsumu, softdom!reader, femdom, oral (f. receiving), mommy kink, puppy kink, minor dacryphilia, collar-play

! haikyuu manga timeskip spoilers. atsumu is 24. !

Honestly, you hadn’t even realized Atsumu was home.

 Work had been such utter shit all week. Every day a new client would find (and inevitably come to you) with some stupid, inane issue. Usually, you could maintain a decent work-life balance--able to leave the bullshit at the office door.

Apparently, not this week.

You’re dicing an onion for dinner… poorly, at that. It’s hardly got your attention--mind constantly circling back to work, work, work.

The whole team is so busy this week. Why the fuck did they think that meeting was so important today? It could have just been an email.

Why’d that client get so worked up over such a minor mistake… Bad for your health to be that angry all the time.

Oh, shit. Did I reply to that email??

I should probably log back in just to double check…

 Atsumu slinked in the front door silently (for once), wanting to surprise you since he’d gotten home from Jackals practice so early. He slipped off his sneakers, gingerly setting them down, and quietly dug into the outer pocket of his gym bag, searching for the pièce de résistance of his little surprise. His hand met leather, clutching the thin black collar you’d bought him a while back. After you had called him “puppy” for the first time: with his hands tied tight above his head because he just couldn’t behave like a good boy. Because--you had paused, tongue licking a long, fat stripe from the root to the tip of his cock, watching the way his big, muscular body pulled taught by the ropes shivered in response--a brat like him needed a little punishment here and there in order to learn how to be your good little puppy.

 He peered curiously around the entryway into the kitchen at the rhythmic sound of you chopping something. Eyes searching your face, he could see the way your brows were pinched, how you unconsciously worried your bottom lip between your teeth--the way you always did when you were deep in thought.

 Not… exactly the welcome he expected.

But Atsumu has always been good at thinking on his feet. He could work with this.

 And now,

 Atsumu’s looking up at you with those big brown eyes--blonde bangs partially obscuring his face. You’re seated on the edge of the mattress with Atsumu on his knees before you, hands clutching the sheets on either side of your hips. You cup his cheek, softly stroking with your thumb.

 “You look so pretty like this, ‘Tsumu.”

 He flushes at the praise, cheeks warm against your palm. Fingers move to trace the shell of his ear with a feather-light caress and his lower lip trembles--the thrill of your touch against the sensitive spot coursing through him like a shock.

 Your hand moves, sliding up against the short hairs of his undercut before threading themselves into the longer blonde locks atop his head. His eyes remain locked on you, basking in the pleased look on your face as you pull his bangs back, gently stroking the top of his head. 

 “Such a sweet boy, wearing this just for me.” You murmur, gently tracing where leather meets the soft skin of his neck. “You wanna be my good little puppy?”

With that, you meet his gaze--brown eyes glassy, lips slightly parted. The hand against his neck travels upward, thumb sliding across his bottom lip carefully. Atsumu feels himself harden and is forced to readjust--recentering his weight atop his knees before he nods.

 You grin at the reaction, bringing a leg up and resting it over his shoulder.

 “Then lick like one.”

 You go to tug him inward with the muscle of your calf, but Atsumu’s faster. In an instant, his face is pressed against your clothed cunt--eyes squeezed shut in concentration as he mouths against the fabric. You can’t help the small laugh that leaves you with a breath. Seeing him like this: so eager and desperate to please, fervently awaiting your every command. The polar opposite of the brash, self-assured Atsumu Miya the world sees on the court, through their TVs, in interviews…  It makes your chest warm, like the feeling of smooth liquor sliding down into your stomach, knowing that the very same Atsumu chooses to share and indulge in this deep, intimate part of himself with you and you alone.

It’s intoxicating.

 “You can take them off, ‘Tsumu.”

A quiet gasp leaves you, pleasantly surprised by his boldness.

 At the sound of his name, Atsumu’s eyelids flutter open and up to your face--black pupils blown out, engulfing brown. He brings a hand up near his mouth, and simply pulls your panties to the side, holding them there. His mouth seals itself against your bared cunt, tongue peeking out to toy with that sensitive little button near the top--

Atsumu is helpless to suppress the groan that tears itself from his chest.

 “'Tsumu--” You sigh, fingers intertwining with blonde locks. His face presses closer, letting out a pleased hum at the feel of your gentle tug on his hair. Your grip tightens, pulling the strands harder, to grind your slick heat against his mouth--

 “Yeah, you like that baby? Like when I use you to make myself feel good?”

 “Mmhmm…” Atsumu nods, doubling down on his efforts, alternating from licking to sucking and biting on your clit softly--increasing the speed, the intensity to just how he knows you like it.

 “You just wanna please me and make me cum on your mouth, don’t you sweet boy?” You tease between heavy breaths. To his credit, Atsumu’s working hard. He’s worked you up much faster than usual, and there’s something so fucking hot about how genuinely he’s lapping at your cunt. As if the way your sex drips at his actions is directly correlated to his own pleasure.

Just as with all things Atsumu does, his absolute dedication to giving his everything, even in this, is staggering. He has spent so much time studying your reactions to the varying strokes of his tongue against you. Cataloging each one. The way you keen when he takes his time, eating you open slowly, so slowly--like you are a flower awaiting the rains of spring before you will bloom for him. The way you subsequently shatter when he finally plunges those thick fingers inside. How your thighs tremble in his grip when you’re close and he finally seals his mouth over that sensitive clit, sucking hard to tip you over the edge. You wouldn’t dare insult his efforts by not reciprocating--by not giving him exactly what he wants, in turn.

His mouth moves down, circling your opening with his tongue, and then dips it inside--pressing the wet, wriggling muscle in as far as it will go. His brows knit together at the effort, nose pressed flush against you, and your head falls backward with an ungodly moan.

 “Off--Take them off, ‘Tsumu.” You command, (more frantically than you’d like to admit) as you grip the band of your underwear. His hands fly up, mouth reluctantly parting from your core, attached by a string of saliva as he pulls away. In one smooth motion, he’s slid the offending garment off your legs and tossed it who-fucking-cares-where. You catch yourself studying his face--the wet shine on his lips, the flush of his cheeks, the glossiness of his eyes as they turn upward to meet your own. Holding your gaze, he lets his tongue loll out of his mouth, leaning down to lave one long, flat lick from the bottom of your hole to the very top of your clit. Your breath flutters in your chest at the sight: how those coffee brown eyes kept themselves locked onto yours while he licked, watching for your approval--for your involuntary response to his efforts. So brazen and unashamed in his lewdness.

Atsumu sighs out an exhale--his heat of his breath against your wetness making you squirm.

 Fuck. You’re crumbling.

 “Atsumu…” You sigh, letting yourself fall backward to lie on the mattress. Atsumu perks up, pulling himself away to sit up straight and push your legs apart and back--toward your chest.

 “Astumu..!” You say again, tone slightly stern in your surprise at his boldness.

 “Shhh…” His eyes drift to a close, long lashes tickling the sensitive skin of your inner thigh while he presses soft kisses there--slowly encroaching back in toward your slick heat. “Ya’ been working so much lately…” A kiss at the junction between your thigh and pelvis. “‘n I thought about the taste of this sweet cunt all day. Jus’ lemme enjoy it.”

 You feel yourself tremble, back arching at his lewd words. This--This is not how this was supposed to go. He’s being more disobedient than usual.

Actually, he’s always this disobedient.

You were being more lenient than usual--allowing yourself to succumb so quickly.

Were you really tired enough to just let it go like this? Sure, you’d been busier than usual lately…

Now that you think about it, you had probably worked more overtime in the last week alone than you had done over the past six months.

 Atsumu’s eyes are half-lidded when he looks back up at you, those golden brown eyes swimming in an almost predatory haze. “Wanna eat you open ‘til you cum.”

 Fuck. He’s good.

You huff out a breath, feigning frustration. “Th-then put that mouth of yours to good use.”

The glint in his eyes tells you he, unfortunately, did not miss that verbal stumble. Blessedly, he doesn’t comment on it and elects to resume his earlier efforts at full force instead. Air floods into your lungs with a sharp inhale when his mouth makes contact. Thick, calloused fingers circle the hole of your opening before sliding in without resistance.

 “Mmmh! ‘Tsumu!”

You can feel the cheshire grin curling across his lips. Then, those fingers are pressing in, in, in as deep as they’ll go before dragging themselves slowly back out. Twice--three times--four times he repeats the motion, making sure to take his sweet time with each one.

 “Faster.” You breathe, desperation creeping into your tone.

 “‘M savoring it.” Atsumu murmurs through the side of his mouth, still partially wrapped around your clit, the hum of his voice sending tingles straight to your core.

The other, deeper part of him relishes in the thought of simply acquiescing to your command. Revels in the relief of allowing himself to break down to his most base self, existing only to use that unyielding dedication of his to endlessly spoil and service the one he loves.

You abruptly sit up. A hand reaches out, and you curl your index finger through the o-ring of his collar in a flash. You inch your face closer, tugging him toward you.

"Good puppys do what they’re told.” You whisper. Atsumu’s eyes are wide, face flushed red at your sudden aggression. Part of him demands he bite back. Begs him to use his athlete strength to hold you down into the mattress and fuck you senseless. To give himself the relief his leaking cock is desperate for.

 “I thought you wanted to be my good puppy boy, ‘Tsumu.” You tease, yanking on his hair hard, bearing his neck to you. Astumu moans, eyes squeezed shut at the heady mix of pain and pleasure, and before he realizes it, he’s rubbing his hard, arching cock against the side of the bed.

 “Ohhh, what happened to wanting to savor it?” You reach down, wrapping a hand around the tip of him. Slowly, cruelly, your hand squeezes as it slides downward and back up. Pumping with careful, lethargic movements--mirroring the infuriatingly slow speed his fingers had maintained within you. Atsumu lets out a shuttering moan, abs trembling with the pleasure of your touch.

 “I can’t… I can’t wait--I can’t. Please.” He babbles, lost in the lust consuming him with every stroke of your soft, small hand.

 “Aww, you can’t? Need to feel this tight pussy around you?”

 He nods (or at least, he tries to, against the tight grip your fingers have in his hair). “Please. Please I wan’--wanna make ya feel so good baby. So good ‘round my cock. Please.” You can’t help but grin. It’s so cute, the way his dialect slips out more and more when he loses himself in the fog of lust like this.

 Your fingers relinquish their rough grip on his hair and flatten, stroking the top of his head gently while your other hand continues its repeated journey up and down his length. His breath has turned ragged, head falling forward against your shoulder while he indulges in your touch for just a moment more.

 “Then c’mere.” You fall backward, pulling his big body over yours. Atsumu comes to his feet--albeit a bit shakily--and your legs wrap themselves around his middle. His hips slot against you, cock resting atop your petal-soft folds. Carefully, your fingers drift down your body, spreading them apart with your middle and ring fingers to slide his length between, resting just near where he so desperately wants to be. Precum gathers at his tip and drips onto your skin and a shaky sigh trembles out of Atsumu’s chest--knuckles turning white with his grip on the sheets. Your free hand grasps one of his, bringing it to your breast.

 “Touch me.”

 His big palm squeezes, other hand coming to grasp at its twin. He stares with rapt attention, feeling the pillowy soft skin beneath his calloused setter fingertips. Fingers pinch and tug on too sensitive nipples and you keen, back arching off the mattress beneath you.

 “‘Tsumu---’Tsumu please.”

 It seems it’s your turn to beg.

 “Yeah--I got ya.” He whispers, leaning over to engulf your body beneath his larger build. He releases one breast and lines himself up with your opening, spread open and slick, waiting just for him.

And then, finally he’s within your velvet walls. You cry at the stretch, at the way this angle lets his length reach into your deepest recesses. He’s bent over, face buried in the crook of your neck breathing hot puffs of air through an open mouth.

 “So warm…” You barely hear him whisper. “Fuck you’re so wet…” Once he has comfortably bottomed out within you, his hips draw back and the searing hot drag of his cock against your walls makes you moan, shameless in the pleasure. Your hands grasp his cheeks, tugging his face to you to seal your lips against his.

 “Mmm…” With a dark, pleased hum Atsumu opens his mouth, tongue sliding against yours and fuck--you can taste yourself on him. With one hand still palming a breast, he carefully tugs your nipple, letting the pull bounce with your body as he fucks into you. The two of you break apart for a breath, and Atsumu’s gaze is almost pitiful--eyes swimming with unshed tears, brows turned upward, face flushed. He looks positively delirious.

 “Feels so good ‘Tsumu.” You sigh. “You’re so good for me. Filling me up so well--”

 The vulgarity of your praise serves its purpose, and Atsumu’s thrusts immediately turn hard and fast. His hands become restless and come to clutch the fat of your thighs, letting one leg rest on his shoulder and pressing the other back, even further in toward your chest. The angle so, so deep and pace bruising, causing your breasts to bounce viciously with every movement in and out of your stretched hole.

 “Yeah--yeah. Wanna make you cum baby. Wanna make you feel so good and feel you tighten around me. Fuck--” He’s fucking you in earnest, sweat sticking those blonde bangs to his forehead. You slide one hand down the taut muscle of his arm, your light-handed touch scorching against Atsumu’s skin as you trail your hand down--all the way from the blade of his shoulder to the hand grasping your hip so firmly you wonder if you’ll find faint bruises shaped like his fingertips in the mirror tomorrow. Your fingers wander inward to the junction between your thighs until they reach your clit, gently circling the soft, sensitive bud with practiced precision. Atsumu breathes out a curse, watching your movements, his hips becoming frantic--some deep, base part of him taking control.

 “FUCK--” He cries, head falling to rest on your shoulder, hair tickling your skin. "Feels so good… so good. Y’r so hot like this.”

 Your chest flutters at the praise and a smug grin slides across your lips. Gently, you trace your tongue along the shell of his ear and he physically shivers.

 “Yeah? You like when I let you take me like this baby?” The hand not currently occupied with your own pleasure slowly rises to rake your nails down Atsumu’s broad, strong back and he audibly whimpers.

“Baby… baby please I’m--I wanna feel you cum around me so bad. Please.” His head turns to lick and suck at the skin of your neck--sloppy and wet and desperate.

 You can feel yourself tightening, the burning heat within you coiled so tightly it threatens to snap. It feels as though you might never catch your breath, mouth hanging open while you moan and sigh out mindless words of pleasure in Atsumu’s ear.

 “You fuck me so good. I’m so close. I’m so--I’m gonna--” and with just a handful of frenzied circles around your clit, Atsumu buries himself to the hilt inside your core and you come undone--walls constricting and fluttering while your legs tremble with the force of it. Your eyes are shut tight in ecstasy, but you feel Atsumu pull himself upright again and know he’s watching you with the eyes of a hawk, drinking the sight of your body orgasming beneath him. His thrusts slow, giving you his entire length in gentle, long strokes while you ride out the all-consuming throes of pleasure.

 Atsumu wills himself to a halt, staring down at you with those dark eyes. The satisfaction of pleasing you--of feeling your spasms around him has whet his appetite and now he is ravenous, desperate to cum inside you. He bites his lip, the exhausted muscles in arms nearly shaking with the effort of holding himself back.

 You take a beat to catch your breath before reopening your eyes to peek up at him.

 “You’re too good to me, ‘Tsumu.” You whisper, grinding yourself against him. Those coffee brown eyes go wide and he slides himself out slowly, looking to you one more time for the OK to continue.

With eyes half-lidded, body fucked out and soft, you meet his gaze.

“Fuck me to make yourself come, puppy.”

 You tug him in close.

Atsumu grips your thighs, pressing them impossibly far back against your chest again, holding your wet, fucked open cunt wide. He groans at the sight, hips stuttering until he's reached his previous pace. Atsumu moans, something high-pitched and desperate. It feels as though there are smoldering, hot coals in his stomach, waiting to be set ablaze. The slightest flicker enough to ignite them. And then you’re reaching up, grabbing his face with one hand, the other looping a finger through the o-ring of his collar.

 “Come for mommy, baby boy.”

 Atsumu combusts. Stars smatter behind his eyes in the blinding white heat. Every sensation across his body is numb compared to the blaze roaring in his core as he spills himself inside you. Hips falter, arms giving way as his weight comes to rest upon you. You release your hold on his collar, instead moving to caress the top of his head while he comes down from the high.

 The room is startlingly silent compared to the obscene noises filling it just moments ago, while the two of you catch your breaths. Eventually, he stirs, those brown eyes of his radiating warmth and bliss and love.

 “Thank you, “Tsumu.” You murmur with a sigh, body buzzing in satisfaction and joy.

 He flashes a crooked smile, nuzzling his face against your neck before placing the gentlest kiss to the overheated skin there.

 “Anything for you.”

 Sometimes, Atsumu knows what you need better than you do.

[ahkaahshi]

priorities [miya atsumu x reader] (req)

anon: hello! how are you doing? i hope you're great and feeling well! may i request a one-shot for atsumu? like, atsumu dumps his s/o due to his other priorities (y'know like volleyball) 1-2 months later reader and atsumu encounters at a park. he tries to talk to her in a friendly way but reader avoids him bc she still loves him sm. whenever she sees him she gets an urge to kiss him and punch him at the same time shjsbjshskhks. happy ending please!! thanks in advance ♡♡♡ (i love your writing btw!!)

fran: hi anon :) I'm doing alright and I hope you’re doing well too! thanks for sending this in! I'm glad you said happy ending bc it’s atsumu and I want the best for him 🥺 I really appreciate your kind words! hope you enjoy :)

pairing: miya atsumu x fem reader

genre: angst with a fluffy ending

warning(s): a bit of swearing

word count: 1.3k (again, I swear I'll get my mini shots down to 1k and under LMAO a word count limit just never stopped me I guess!!)

With a long sigh, you slow your pace and take a few moments to walk off an annoying cramp that’s developed in your calf. The music you’d had blaring through your earbuds seems way too loud now given that you’re no longer running through the busy streets and have reached a quiet park instead, so you take your phone out of your pocket to turn it down. While you do some light stretches to alleviate the pain, a cool breeze floating through the air reminds you not only of how sweaty you are but of the time.

It’s early enough in the evening for the sun’s dying rays to linger in the sky for about a half an hour longer. The city streets are packed with the traffic of workers heading home for the day or venturing out in search of dinner. Though it’s a challenge weaving in amongst people going about their end of the day activities, being immersed in liveliness is enough to distract you from the somber mood you’d been stuck in for about two months now.

Breakups were never easy, but this one had been harder for you to shake off than the others, mostly because you’d been deeply in love with the man who’d shattered your heart. And, of course, being told you weren’t a priority had only added insult to injury.

You hadn’t expected yourself to be completely healed of your heartache in two months, but you also hadn't anticipated that you’d still be so broken up about it that you pined for him every moment your mind wasn’t occupied. It was torturous, and you wanted to move on from it.

Running was one way you could literally and figuratively escape from your problems, but you knew you could only avoid them for so long before they caught up to you. Now, as your mind idles once more, your thoughts return to you again in full force.

Another runner’s tall figure further down the path ahead captures your attention when you lift your head from inspecting your leg, and your heart instantly drops into your stomach. That unmistakable blonde head of hair painted a vibrant orange in the rays of the setting sun, a black jacket bearing the name of a professional volleyball team, and a body chiseled by the gods themselves were instant indicators of the man’s identity.

Shit, you think frantically, wracking your brain for different routes you can take to avoid crossing paths with him. But, it’s too late.

“(F/n)?” you hear him call out to you in between breaths, the pounding of his footsteps echoing closer and closer to you with each moment that passes.

Not knowing what else to do, you decide to pretend like you don’t hear him, turn on your heels, and start jogging in the opposite direction. You know it’s lame to be running away from your ex-boyfriend, but it’s the only option you can think of to avoid having contact with him. However, your fatigue quickly catches up with you, and the pain in your calf makes it hard to escape as gracefully as you’d like.

“(F/n)!”

When you hear his voice again, he’s right beside you, touching your shoulder to grab your attention, as if you hadn’t just seen him and tried but failed to avoid a conversation with him. With a sigh, you surrender, bringing yourself to a halt and taking your earbuds out. The pain surging through your irritated calf muscle makes you grumble softly and avert your eyes from his curious gaze to examine it once more.

“Hey, are ya okay?” he wonders, dark amber gaze traveling to where your fingers are kneading into the back of your leg.

With a dismissive wave of the hand, you lie, “I’m fine.” 

When your eyes finally meet, you feel all the emotions you’ve been holding back threaten to boil over. All the love you still felt for him as well as the disdain you’d been harboring towards him since your breakup floods your thoughts. You can’t decide if you want to kiss him or punch him in the face, but, since neither’s acceptable at the moment, you place your hands in your pockets and let out a slow exhale.

“So, how are ya?” he wonders, removing his own pair of earbuds and brushing a few, shining droplets of sweat away from his forehead.

“What are you doing here?” you ask curtly.

His thick eyebrows furrow in confusion as he responds, “Whaddya mean? Why can’t I enjoy a brisk, evenin’ run through a public park?”

Narrowing your eyes at him and shifting your weight off your injured leg, you state, “You can. It’s just that this park isn’t exactly in your area.” His lips settle into a deep frown, and he remains silent for a beat. “Seriously, Atsumu, what do you want? I’m trying to move on like you told me to.”

“Okay,” he grumbles, breaking eye contact to look anywhere but at you as he admits, “Maybe I’ve been comin’ through here every now n’ then on my runs hopin’ that I’d bump into you.”

The vulnerability in his tone and demeanor sends a pang of sadness rippling through your body. You voice is nearly inaudible as you whisper, “Why?”

“Because I wanna talk to ya, (f/n).” His answer is instantaneous--spoken without a hint of hesitation despite how embarrassed you’d assumed he would be to confess anything that he thought would make him look weak or desperate.

His hand extends towards you, as if requesting that you remove yours from your pocket so he can hold it. You deny him this access with a shake of the head, though it makes your eyes sting ever so slightly to reject him. “About what?” is your next inquiry.

There’s a much longer pause as he summons his courage with a deep breath and finally turns his face toward you so your eyes can meet. “I fucked up, okay? I shoulda never treated ya like you were just livin’ yer life in my world. I shoulda never been stupid enough to think that volleyball was more important my own girlfriend, ‘nd that I had to choose between that ‘nd you. Never. I shoulda never made ya feel as if you were second best. I won’t forgive myself for doin’ that to ya.”

You dig your thumb into the cuff of your jacket and raise it to your cheek to wipe away a few, stray tears that had escaped without warning. Judging by the look of yearning in his eyes, he probably wants more than anything to embrace you and litter your skin with gentle apologies in the form of kisses. Keeping the distance between the two of you is painful, but you know how susceptible you are to him since your wounds never had time to heal.

“I’m literally so in love with ya, (f/n). So in love with ya that I don’t care that I'm here, puttin’ my pride aside to admit that I royally fucked up ‘nd tell ya that I wantcha back. These past couple of months without ya have been hell.”

“’Tsumu,” you whimper softly with a sniffle, willing yourself to regain your composure so you didn’t turn into a sobbing mess in such a public place.

Upon hearing his nickname leave your mouth, a small smile creeps onto his lips before he asks, “Will ya give me another shot ‘nd lemme treat ya to dinner?”

In the scenarios you’d imagined in your head for this very moment, you acted tougher--reminding him that you deserve more and acting cold and indifferent toward him. But, now, in this moment, after the sincerity of the apology he’s given, all you can do is nod and say, “It’s going to take a bit of time, but I’m open to trying again.”

A grin graces his handsome features as he offers, “I can tell yer leg’s hurtin’ ya, so I’ll give ya a piggyback ride to any restaurant of yer choice in exchange for a drive home. Jus’ pick a place nearby, would ya?”

“Okay,” you accept and wipe away any tears left on your face. He brushes a few strands of your hair away from your face in a tender gesture before turning around so you can climb onto his back and let him cart you off to get a much-needed meal as a first step towards rebuilding a better relationship with him.

[themagicalmysticalboy]

John and Paul had a big argument about Brian, Paul still cant forget about Spain. It's a very cold and raining night, after very intensing session of drinking John appears under Paul's house, but Paul isnt inside...The next morning Macca finds frozen wet and limp figure curled at his doorsteps.

a/n: this has lit been in my inbox for so long and i feel awful. So sorry anon. hope you’re still around to see it <3

Three minutes. 

That’s all it took for John to have Paul fuming. When the phone rang throughout the house he had half the mind to not answer at all, figuring it would be John. But now he was stuck on the line with a drunk and poorly apologizing Lennon. In reality, he was so incoherent that Paul wasn’t even sure if there was an actual apology buried in his mumbling. On the contrary, he seemed to be blaming Paul, if anything.

“Lemme jus- I’ll come… come over, yeah.” John hiccuped through his words.

“Don’t, alright? I’d rather not deal with you now.” He almost told John he wouldn’t be home, anyway, but that wouldn’t be clever. So, he kept his lips sealed on the topic. 

“It didn’t mean a thing, Paul. Brian was just there.” He said it as if it explained everything. 

Paul pinched the bridge of his nose, his other hand tightening around the phone with a death grip. “I don’t want to hear how it happened.” His voice almost didn’t sound like his own. “I don’t want to hear you blame Brian if that’s what you’re at.” John tried to interrupt but Paul only raised his voice higher. “He doesn’t even know we were together!” Paul’s eyes widened as his mouth snapped shut. Would John catch it? Or was he too drunk to comprehend it?

Deafening silence made Paul’s heartbeat in his ears. “You said ‘were.’” John’s words came out slow and almost sober. “Were together, Macca.”

Paul swallowed down the lump in his throat, his eyes stinging with tears he wouldn’t let slip. There was no going back now. “Yes. We were together.”

He slammed the phone to the receiver just in time to clamp his hands over his mouth, holding in a sob. Rained poured down outside his window as tears slipped down his cheeks. All he could do was stare at the raging storm and wonder if there was any way to fix what was now so painfully broken. He thought of calling off his plans with Mal and just staying by the phone for another call from John. But that was pathetic. He had promised to watch the football match with Mal a week in advance. There wasn’t a good reason- or at least one he could say out loud- to cancel. There was also the issue of not being able to move. Paul seemed immobilized with sadness and fear, quiet sobs escaping him as he stared into the haze outside his window. 

He stayed by the phone for a while until a crack of thunder jolted him to life and he hurriedly wiped his cheeks free of tears. With some much-needed washing up in the bathroom, he was ready to go, wanting to leave before the storm became too much and he would be stuck in his house with only his thoughts. The idea of that terrified him into rushing through the house and hurriedly leashing Martha. She helped him in his hurry, not letting him think twice before tugging him along and to his car. 

They made it into the car, assaulted by the frigid rain, shivering. Paul cranked up the heat as soon as the car was running, rubbing at his arms. The car ride wasn’t long enough for him to get lost in his thoughts, thankfully, and when he arrived at Mal’s the man kept them busy with snacks and other guests and drinks. Paul easily dropped into social mode and left his strife with John in the back of his mind. He knew it would rear up as soon as he was home, maybe even just in his car, but he wouldn’t ruin Mal and everyone else’s fun while he was there. 

Whether it was the knowledge of having to face his own actions or the still-raging storm keeping him, Paul didn’t leave Mal’s house until very late into the night. Mal had suggested they play a board game to sober everyone up and it drug on until almost five in the morning. The rain was at a drizzle when Paul put his car into park. 

He wanted to wait just a bit longer for it to come to a halt but Martha was wiggling around like mad, whining and pawing at his arm. He sighed, letting his forehead hit the steering wheel. “Fine,” he breathed.

She shot anxious glances between him and the door until he undid his seatbelt to lean over and pop the passenger door open. She shot out of the car and into the darkness with a happy wag in her tail the instant she could, leaving Paul to stare after her. Exhaustion mingled with dread, making him unwilling to go to his house. He sluggishly got out of the car. As he leaned back in to grab his wallet, Martha began to bark.

He dragged out a long sight, head dropping, before snapping back up and yelling out for her. She only barked louder, followed by a pained whimper. The pitiful sound shot a spike of alertness into Paul’s core. He yelled out again as he ran but the dog had gone quiet. Fear was shoving his senses into full throttle and he bolted to his doorstep.

When he finally arrived, he was struck still. The droplets of water now moved in slow motion, the biting cold a distant memory. His dread filled the void left by his other senses.

A figure was curled up on his doorstep, Martha nudging gently. With a rough nudge and a nip at the hair, the figure's head tilted into the dim porchlight. The aquiline nose and auburn hair of his John was illuminated. His mouth just barely open, eyes softly closed.

All Paul could do was stare in shock and horror. The world was thrown out of pause when a trickle of water sent a shiver down his spine. He was suddenly aware the rain had picked back up and the cold was whirled up with a nasty wind.

Words were leaving his lips but he didn't know what he was saying or why he was talking. All he knew was that he had to get John inside. Martha, bless her, was ahead of Paul, biting on to John’s collar and pulling him towards the door.

In a flurry of movement, the door was thrown open and John was dragged across the threshold. With a deep huff of breath, Paul lifted John into his arms. “John? Johnny, come on, please!”

He continued to plead as he rushed to the nearest couch. Once laid out, John let out a groan before curling into a ball again. He was shivering like mad, nearly vibrating off the couch. 

“Hey, you’re alright,” Paul cooed softly as he stripped John of his soaking wet clothes. “Can you talk to me?”

“Where- wherewereyou.” His words rushed together in an airy gust before his teeth began to chatter.

Snatching up every blanket in eyesight, Paul wrapped him up into a tight bundle. “Do you need an ambulance? Should I call-”

“‘S fine.” His eyes cautiously opened, lulling around the room until they found Paul. “Where were you?”

“I’m phoning the ambulance,” Paul decided. He moved to leave John’s side but felt a strangely strong grip pull him back. He fell onto the cushion, sitting by John’s hip.

“I’m fine.” The words came out with a startling levelness, only to be followed by more chattering of his teeth.

Paul studied him, their eyes locked in battle. With a hum, Paul narrowed his gaze, “I’m getting you a warm washcloth.”

“Alright.”

Once a basin of hot water was filled and the fire was lit, Paul began his nursing. He fused over John as neither man uttered a word. Grabbing more covers and some pillows, Paul tucked him in tight and lifted his head to put down the pillows. All the while, Martha sat wearily at John’s feet.

Now thoroughly bundled, he ran fingertips along John’s temple and down to his jaw. “Sure you're alright?”

“I waited for you,” John said with malice, only to be betrayed by a faltering voice. Paul had not noticed the lingering smell of alcohol on his breath until just then. He was obviously no longer drunk, only sad and cold, but it must have taken a lot to pass out in the freezing storm.

“I was a Mal’s, love. Do you want a cup of tea? Or I could run a ba-”

“Stop!” John pushed at his mountain of covers and forced himself upright. “Get-” 

Paul grabbed him by the shoulders to steady him only to be pushed away. They both tumbled from the couch, hitting the hardwood with two distinct thuds. Martha let out a bark but didn’t move. 

Paul made to speak but as soon as he opened his mouth, John spat out, “Shut your bleeding trap and listen to me.”

His mouth was still hung open so he snapped it shut and gulped through a strained throat. John’s eyes danced viciously between his.

“I’m sorry! Alright? I’m sorry and I know I can never take it back but I am. I-” Tears were welling in his eyes. “It was so stupid. Stupid of me to try to shift the blame. Stupid of me to do it at all. But,” John’s hands were in his damp hair, tears streaming down his cheeks. “I love you.”

 John was breathing hard and Paul felt he wasn't breathing at all. There was a delicate sheet of glass creeping between them. A single mistake could shatter it to the ground and leave them bleeding. 

Much softer, slower, and steadier, John said, “You don’t have to forgive me. I don’t deserve it. Sure as hell don’t deserve you.” When Paul didn’t respond, John continued. “I was drunk when I came. Was quite intent on telling you off- maybe break a vase or two.” Paul huffed a pained laugh. “But I’m sober as I can be now. I just want you to… You should know how much I mean it when I say that I’m sorry. If you don’t want me any longer, that’s fine.”

The sheet of glass dissolved on the spot, melting into the wood and warming the space. There was a vague awareness of the short bursts of nervous laughter leaving his lips. All he could do was stare at the half-naked man on his floor that had just poured his heart out. He had no clue how much the thought of them being over had weighed on him until the moment the worry lifted away. Gathering himself for the sake of the confused Lennon, Paul scooted towards him and threw a cover over his shoulders. Biting hard on his own lip, Paul cupped John’s face with both hands. 

“You’re the stupidest man I have ever met.” He smiled with all the sincerity and adoration in his body.

“I’m what?”

Paul laughed again, nerves completely drained from it, his hands moving to John’s shoulder and head falling into his chest. He breathed in the man, pulling him between his legs to hug him tightly. His skin was still cold, his body still trembling. “First of all, that’s all you had to ever say. Second, I’m just glad you didn’t kill yourself in the cold.”

John nuzzled his nose into the crook of Paul’s neck. “I’m slightly offended that me not dying was your second point.”

Paul only held him closer. “I hate you so much. But you’ll always be the love of my life.”