#what if you're a couple and one of you wants a firm mattress and the other a soft one???? do you just fucking die?

[binch-i-might-be]

just saw a tiktok of an american saying it's weird how in germany a double bed has two separate mattresses and duvets to which I would like to counter: what kind of fucked in the head lunatic WANTS to share ONE MASSIVE DUVET with a SECOND LIVE PERSON ?

[shotmrmiller]

whenever simon needs a lay, he doesn't go for girls like you: all snarky attitude and self-assuredness in that hole-in-the-wall bar with the peeling wallpaper, dim lighting, and sagging ceiling tiles. he wants those insecure things; the soft, quiet ones who've been recently dumped and are drinking away their woes. the ones who'll take him to theirs in a drunken haze and wake up startled, kicking him out of the front door without their number and an embarrassed forget this ever happened.

can do, sweetheart. (see ya never.)

but you've caught his interest. maybe it was the way your face was bare— pockmarks on your cheeks and eyebrows untamed—yet you exuded confidence not even that loud bimbo with the fake lashes and vibrant ruby lipstick could ever recreate. maybe it was the way you held your own against that drunken man who attempted to grab a handful of arse over your faded, torn jeans, catching his pathetic bollocks and giving them a gnarly twist.

who knows. who cares.

what matters is that you've caught him by complete surprise.

he figured you were the type to want a firm hand. a couple of harsh slaps to your cheeks (both top and bottom), a fistful of your hair in his grip to pull, and to fuck you into the mattress until your body was imprinted on it.

wrong.

the moment he pulled your hair taut, you'd immediately tangled your clever fingers into his chest hair. "i'm no horse, brit. my hair isn't reins for you to lead me around with."

then he tried to bend you over his knee. proper brat like you needs to be put in'er place.

also wrong. "not that either. not yet anyway."

and then he's wrong a third time because you're no passive participant.

he sloppily eats your cunt like it's his first meal since coming back from urzikstan— warm tongue, thick fingers, and the occasional pinch of his crooked teeth on your swollen bundle of nerves. when he tries to pull away, your entrance more than slick enough to take him without much discomfort, you fervently dig your heels into the scarred tissue of his strong back., stopping him in his tracks.

"you stop 'til i finish and not a moment sooner." his whiskey breath is warm between your legs when he huffs out, "affirm." you're fluttering around his hand in minutes when you start to direct him on how you like it, which he supposes is fortunate for you since he's real good at taking orders and even better at obeying them.

your climax is sweet in his mouth with a subtle hint of brine. the exact opposite of you, he finds. simon doesn't even get the chance to tell you to say anything because you're flipping onto your knees and shoving his rigid length into your mouth. he can't help the strangled sound that escapes him when the tip of him touches the back of your throat, constricting when you gag.

bloody hell.

you look up at him; wide, glassy eyes and sunken cheeks and it's pathetic how he can already feel himself on the precipice of ecstasy and he hasn't even gotten to the good part.

when he watches you place a condom in your mouth and roll it on his cock without hands, simon had to squeeze his eyes shut and think of england to stop the fire that threatened to light him ablaze.

alrigh', enough. on your back.

"no. get on yours."

your small hands push against his barrel chest, gesturing he lie back— today preferably.

impatient bint.

you ignore that quip, opting to wrap your fingers around his thick base and sink onto him in one smooth motion.

slow, don't want ya hurtin' ya'self.

he gnaws on his tongue painfully— almost cutting it open with his canine— to keep from finishing because, bloody fuckin' hell, do you feel like the heaven he'll never see.

simon's hands curl and tighten around the swell of your hips— his blunt, square nails digging into your sensitive skin. "easy," you hiss, "i bruise like a peach."

taste like it, too.

you look so sweet, so pliant while being split open on his cock, hot cunt sodden with your earlier release— it sends mind-numbing arousal tingling up his spine, feeling it at the base of his skull. simon grunts when you begin to move, a languid up and down, gentle but firm. spots dance in his vision when you take all of him, his bollocks flush against your arse.

pretty thing with fire in your eyes taking him so well even though others have needed breaks to work up to it. muscle memory takes over then, his callused fingers automatically searching for your swollen clit, but you slap them away. "too sensitive, i'd only be uncomfortable."

yes ma'am.

you chuckle at that, pussy fluttering as you do and simon hisses through his clenched teeth.

keep tha' up 'nd i'll be done before the fun even starts.

this time you clamp down on purpose, your cunt squeezing his cock like a silken fist. "wouldn't that just be a shame. old man like yourself only got one in you?" the playful taunt sinks its teeth into the ego he's never cared about— leaving behind a mark that stings and lingers— and the lieutenant rears his head, if only for a moment.

watch it.

your eyes widen fractionally but your lips curl at the corners in amusement. "sorry, sir." minx.

his thoughts dissolve like sugar in hot tea once your hips began to rise and fall again, this time a much quicker pace. he surrenders to your unsatiable passion-- a hungry beast, feeding on want, on need-- with only his obsidian-black mask as witness.

for the first time in months (since price bent him over his desk post-op that one time) he's the one getting fucked.

and when you plant your feet by his sides, when your hips cant at the slightest of angles, his flared head presses against something firm and his world ceases to exist, the intensity of now reaching its peak.

when he comes to, your sweat-slick body trembles with effort, your pretty cunt still stuffed to the brim with his softening length. but he's not done with you yet, not by a long shot. now it's his turn.

in a quick movement, you find yourself on your back, looking up at simon, and the mewl that falls from your lips bounces off of the spartan white walls when he hooks your legs over his broad shoulders, and claims you again.

he plans on leaving a delicious ache between your legs that won't let you forget this night-- at least not for the next few days. (not like you could, i mean look at him. plus, he's going to magically forget his gloves here, maybe his pack of cigarettes. he's also definitely jotting down his phone number somewhere.)

forgive me i'm tired now so i lost some air at the end hehehe

[dilfl0v3rss]

smart mouth

"you know better, but still choose to end up like this" with the last word of his sentence ony made sure to feed each and every inch of him down your throat, spit trickling down your chin as you gagged around his wide dick. your panties were soaked with your arousal, big brown eyes filled with hot, wet tears as you kept your sights on him alone. "gotta smart ass mouth on you, but daddy gon fix that real quick, aint he mama?" he said, his deep voice causing his chest to rumble as he continued moving your head back and forth onto him. he gave you a couple more strokes before pulling your mouth off of him completely, smirking as he watched you intake as much air as you could before exhaling over and over again, your lungs in a hurry to get familiar with the air its been denied.

you nodded at his previous question, giving him a mindless 'mhm' before moving hungrily towards is dick in efforts to reconnect the two of you, but ony was quick to stop you. he wrapped an inked hand into your hair, pulling your head back as he stared down at you condescendingly. "such a greedy girl, i got sum for you tho c'mere" his other hand found your throat, pulling your face up towards his until you were standing right in front of him before he pushed you flat on the bed. each of your thighs grabbed by dark, tatted hands as he pushed your legs towards your chest. the fabric of your panties began to tighten the closer your knees got to your face, giving ony the perfect view of your pussy through your bright pink thong.

he freed one of your thighs, lightly teasing your clit through your underwear with his thumb to draw those pretty moans he loved so much from your lips. "sound so sexy, makes me forget how dirty y'mouth could be." you ignored his words, eyes rolling to the back of your head as your body fought with ony's other hand to arch off of the bed. of course you were of no success, bottom half practically glued to the bed by the strength of ony's one hand on your thigh. just the thought of it made you want him even more, your hands moving towards his abdomen to caress the inked skin. "unt uh mama no hands today, you been bad remember?" oh yea, this is a punishment. you're not sure how the thought slipped you or even what you did to end up here, but it was far too late to try to plead with him now.

you obediently moved your hand away, putting each of them over your head where they claimed a tight grip on the sheets. ony nodded at your compliance, seeing it as progress. his hand reclaimed its spot on your other thigh, pushing it down towards your chest as well before he slowly moved his dick towards your clothed heat, lightly rubbing his length up and down your center. you moaned at the contact, your grip on the sheets tightening as you chanted his name over and over. "i know ma." he continued his movements, moving a little rougher at times to keep you on edge, you were losing your mind under him. "p-papa please" you whined, his firm grip on your thighs still giving you no way to move to get any more than what he's giving you.

ony could tell what you wanted just by the look in your eyes, a devilish smirk spreading towards his lips as he played dumb. he tilted his head up towards you with a deep 'hmm'. "w-want you inside" you were in no position to make demands right now given that he was upset with you and literally had you pressed down into the mattress, but you thought it'd be worth a try. "want me in your tummy?" his voice was full of faux sympathy and you knew it, but your desperation outweighed your common sense, so you begged. "yes please please please daddy. want you t'fuck me now" ony chuckled at your neediness, rubbing even harder into you before bringing his lips down towards your neck. he completely ignored what you said as he sloppily kissed down your body, leaving small bites in some places until he were face to face with your clothed pussy. "m'not fuckin you t'night princess"

the whine you let out was less than a second before ony gave you a sharp tap to your heat, the wet patch in the fabric only growing as he left small kisses on your clit right after, stroking himself slowly as he teased you. the difference in affection made your head spin as you watching him slowly outstretch his tongue towards where he knew your entrance was, dark brown eyes staying trained on yours as he slowly dragged the muscle up up your center before sloppily eating you out through your panties. his tongue moved skillfully over the fabric, still licking and sucking you to the point where your legs shook. "fuck baby" you moaned into the air, back arching off the bed as you tried to grind your pussy onto his tongue. ony didn't give you the chance to, moving back just enough so you were met with nothing but air. a chuckle escaped his lips as he watched you huff and puff above him.

ony abruptly stood up in front of you, his hand still wrapped firmly around his dick as he stroked himself slowly above you. each of his groans only made you wetter as you watching him pleasure himself to the sight of you. "you so pretty ma, jus need you t'act right" your eyes followed his hand, his pace slow and steady. you were so desperate for him, but you knew not to move again since it was likely that he'll cuff you this time. "i-i will daddy, promise" his groans made you want him more and more, his broad chest rising and falling steadily as he looked at you needily. "gon stop talking back t'me n start being the good girl you know i want you to be?" he stroked himself faster, moving his thumb down towards your clit where he began to rub in quick, small circles. you moaned into the air, legs acquiring a slight shake as you nodded along to his words. "y-yes! whatever you want pa, p-promise t'be better" your release was approaching quickly and he knew that, moving his thumb faster to push you closer to the edge. you could tell he was close as well, his hand moving at a quick pace as his hips bucked every so often. at this rate he was going to make the both of you come at the same time, his hands working wonders for the both of you as he pushed you to the brink of your release. "okay, i hear you baby" a relieved sigh left your lips but that relief didn't last long. at the same time you noticed that ony was no longer pleasuring you. his other had was by his side as he alone met his release.

"but when i actually start seeing that attitude change then ill touch you how i know you want me to."

[satomatto]

. //ALL BOYS | hybrid au.

ch: cat hybrids!gojo satoru, okkotsu yuuta, ryomen sukuna, choso; dog hybrids!geto suguru, itadori yuji, fushiguro megumi, fushiguro toji; snake hybrid!naoya zenin; dolphin hybrid!inumaki toge; parrot hybrid!mahito; fox hybrids!nanami kento, noritoshi kamo.

cw: concept of hybrids; heat/rut.

tw: breeding kink; hickeys/bites; overstimulation/overexcitement; somnophilia; maybe they all have some yandere-isms; delaying orgasm; multiple orgasms; naoya is as scummy as ever; voyeurism; maybe!non-con; rough sex; who even reads tags; cunnilingus; slit play; submissive!inumaki, yuji; mirror sex; is big dick a warning? big dicks; creampie; pour yourself a warm cuppa, don't be like author; dirty talk; tender sex; size difference.

cw: 6.6k

GETŌ SUGURU

Geto is a nice guy, he won't push you over the top excessively, well able to handle the rut on his own. But it's so boring! In fact, you might not even notice how more and more translucent, wet smudges appear on your mattress every night. He'll even go so far as to use your thighs to recreate the illusion that he's fucking you when the sheets and his hand are no longer enough for self-satisfaction.

Oh, he clearly understands where the boundaries are, firm and unconditional. It's unlikely you'll realize there's something wrong with him before it's too late to do anything about it - he's already struggling to contain himself throughout the day, patiently waiting for the moment when he can touch you with impunity, but if his overall arousal rises even the slightest bit, he'll just short-circuit.

Not in the sense of nonstop, wild fucking - nope, really; his affection and the sweet desire that had overwhelmed him would come out in one solid, warm lump. He'll literally cling to you - he'll wallow in bed with you, wrapped in the sheets, cradling you and sucking on your shoulders and neck, needing attention and stubbornly ignoring your pleas for it to stop, he might even growl at you if you try to break free of his grip. Even though you won't succeed without it - Suguru will still get rougher with you if you offer any resistance. But even so, you probably won't be able to figure out what's exactly going on with him - it's more like a typical bout of tenderness, which he gets quite often because he loves you.

From now on, anything he's done in secret before will no longer be. And you're gonna have to accept that - you should know by now what a piece of shit he really is. This man will do the same thing to you, only now and when you're awake. Oh, don't worry, he won't touch you unless you beg for it. And you will. He likes the way you taste. You can be sure he won't disappoint you; his nimble, harsh tongue sure is capable of a lot - how long do you think he will let you go? I hope you know that his stamina increases a lot during the rut.

You'll probably wake up one day to the unearthly sensation of his tongue in your hole as Suguru moans into your pussy, obviously touching himself down there, making you cum for the umpteenth time in a row. Or from the way he, decides to take advantage of your hips while you sleep peacefully in the, now shared, bed. Sly dark eyes look completely innocent - like he's picking out a bun for his breakfast - oh, baby, he's not doing anything wrong, so you don't have to forgive him!

"Nah, nah, nah, calm down, honey. It's no big deal." Someday, that sly squint will drive you crazy.

GOJŌ SATORU

An already very insolent creature turns into an absolute asshole whose meanness is elevated to an absolute. Oh, do you really want to trade him in for your useless, boring job? Sweetie, you're so naive to believe he'll let you out of bed for a couple hours. You'd better take the weekends off, for the duration of his rut, because he won't be thinking about secondary things like your general busyness. When mating season starts - all you have to worry is him. Your only concern, to whom you'll have to give all your free (and not) time, one way or another.

This guy remains a teaser even when he himself is panting with desire. He has the stamina, frankly, to taunt you despite his aching cock, even in moments of complete shutdown of any self-consciousness - it's like his second nature. One of his favorite tricks is to pump you as much as he can into you, making sure your eyes roll back as hard as they can and your throat makes those sweet sounds of pleasure just for him, turning your poor, already fucked-up brain into a fucking mess.

Gojo always demands a lot of your attention, but then again, almost all of the unpleasant aspects of his personality are more pronounced when mating season begins. His favorite thing to do during this time is to make you almost cry with pleasure while you squeeze his cock so sweetly. His stamina on such days is just off the charts, if on normal days you passed out from overexcitement and fatigue, what do you think will happen then when he wants to fuck you for hours on end? Nothing good, that's for sure. It'll be a half dream and half vision for you - you might pass out during the process and then suddenly start screaming, probably from the pain in your tortured pussy when you wake up - if he's already on instinct, he'll cum in you over and over again, squeezing your thighs until he passes out, or until the obsession wears off.

Satoru even can help you take a shower, though he has a negative attitude toward it, rather than a tolerant one. In fact, you really need his help, because even standing up afterwards can be a bit difficult. I strongly recommend not to refuse it - during his animal outbursts, you better not argue with him (yes, he cares about you purely on instinct). A man will prefer you to complain less and listen to him more - even if all he can utter is inarticulate mooing and scraps of simple words, which is highly expected at the peak of his rut. Along with that, he's soothed by the sound of your voice-even if sometimes his brains are so cluttered that he has no idea what you're saying, able to recognize only intonation and subtly sensing any change in your speech.

"Mm, sweetie, I don't think…" Even after half an hour this sentence was still not finished. Well, he really doesn't think.

NAOYA ZEN'IN

This naga really annoys you. In fact, Naoya thinks you owe him a debt. To be grateful or not is up to you, but his opinion is the only constant: you were chosen by him, so you belong to him now, and you should be grateful that he treats you that way. He will make you say those words over and over again, delaying orgasms, or covering your body with love bites (careful, he's poisonous, but you might say you're lucky - there's an aphrodisiac flowing in his fangs right now, thank him for that <3). Maybe that's not enough? Don't worry, he'll go to the lengths of hurting you for real too, mere spanking and pinching will seem like child's play compared to what he'll do if you don't satisfy him and his sick fantasies.

Fortunately or miserably, this bastard is perfectly in control of himself during the breeding season. Even if he's pounding and shaking at times, if you see him curled up in some dark and warm corner, know that there's no cause for concern - it doesn't hurt him much, just his body doesn't know where to put all that energy. However, Naoya himself perfectly knows where he can use it. If you hear a soft crackling sound from somewhere behind the door, don't be in a hurry to take off your clothes - you can change later, but if the crackling sound is accompanied by a hiss, you'd better turn into a docile and submissive slut and spread out on the bed, throwing your new outfit as far away as possible.

As said above, the naga is perfectly self-controlled, so don't be surprised if you feel the tip of his tail between your legs, playfully stroking your thigh and pressing against your heat through your clothes. Yes, Naoya does it on purpose - just to watch your reaction. It gives him a kind of… Voyeuristic satisfaction - sort of the same nature as those rare occasions of watching you from behind closed doors while he tries to touch himself as quietly as possible, drilling you with the stare of narrow, golden eyes while you unsuspectingly pull off your clothes and wiggle your hips ever so brazenly. He could go further - he knows you won't stop him, but he won't, torturing himself and even you, who've been guessing a little about his fascination lately, with the agonizing wait, only to be left with nothing.

Of the good (and partly even sad): just because he wants you to carry his children doesn't mean nature agrees with him. His body is incapable of forming "proper" embryos inside the eggs - they're all somehow, in their own way, but defective; most likely this has come about as a result of long and not very skilled breeding, as well as frequent incest, but either way, the fact remains. So, after these sessions, they usually just turn into nothing. Well, really, don't say anything about it. For better or for worse, both are insulting and offensive to him in their own way (you're not going to be well, just trust me).

"What idiotic problem do you have this time? Well, let's solve it together… " A dangerous clicking sounded behind you. Don't turn around.

INUMAKI TOGE

So obedient and endlessly tender boy. While his slit is oozing with lubricant - he tries to continue helping you with the cooking, gradually losing his head more and more. Light, quiet trills come out of his mouth, getting more like a squeak from literally your any movement. You can play with him a little - so vulnerable in this state. For example, you could accidentally spill water on him or knock over a bowl of cream, and then start rubbing the wet, sticky apron, pressing and rubbing the spot as if by accident.

Inumaki wouldn't be able to tolerate this for long. Literally in a matter of hours, he would be completely and utterly transformed into a lustful, needy mess. If he has to beg for your attention, you should know, he will Sharp little teeth will nibble at your skin, leaving light marks on it, and a heavy, husky sniffle will tickle your ear for just as long as it takes. Anticipating your question: no, he won't be able to handle it on his own - his brains were already mush the moment he looked at you.

You can put your fingers in his slit and he'll squirm and moan just from the feel of your fingers in his crotch, but if you push them in a little deeper and massage what's inside… He'll go crazy - you just have to run your fingers over what you might call the underside of his cock; the guy will only whimper and beg you to continue, lifting his hips and moving them to meet your hand. If you don't want him to finish so soon, take your fingers out of his hole and wiggle your fingers around a bit, applying pressure and running them downward. Once his dick slips out, unable to stay there because of the copious amounts of natural lubrication - no matter how much Inumaki wants you to, you can do whatever you want with the guy - he won't resist He just can't.

He always makes that lustful yet totally innocent, angelic face when you touch him. He's happy to let you ride him, during a hot period, he's just not in control of himself (as he's basically always been - a guy can hardly be aware of his actions when he's aroused. You can make him perform the most idiotic action time after time - he won't suspect a thing. Here's the truth, though, that doesn't mean that after Toge cools off a bit, he won't blush and run off somewhere far away from you; don't be unkind). But, if you're starting to think he's a snot, he's not so much submissive as horny, and in that state of mind, easier to hand over the reins of control to someone who's not completely out of his head and capable of doing the right thing.

Just drag him into the bathtub - you'll be instantly pinned to the wall, because he's no longer in control of his transformation, at a time when even his thoughts are flowing sluggishly, with great difficulty - barely. Caress his thighs, the place where the human part of him touches his tail. His belly will turn pink and his slit will begin to ooze lubrication. His chirping will softly caress your ears, and his naughty fingers will find your warm spot pretty quickly. Seeing you enter a state like his makes Inumaki bite his lip. Careful with that, though - the teeth, which aren't large, are all razor sharp.

"Hn-n," the guy moans, followed immediately by a short, loud and awkward trill, cutting himself short. But why, such a sweet sound isn't something to be embarrassed about.

ITADORI YUJI

This guy is actually obsessed with your butt. The enthusiasm with which he moves his hips into you and digs his hands into your plump ass every time, kneading it like dough - real dedication, any way you look at it. He doesn't usually have this kind of eagerness, but right now, it looks almost desperate - the occasional thrusts and the subtle whimpers continuously emanating from his throat are so turned on. Despite the fog in his head, he's still trying to hold himself back for you - it's so sweet, don't you think?

Itadori will try so hard for both of you - so hard that you'll have to force him to let you go so you don't both die of dehydration and you stop getting a hellish cramp in your hips with every thrust he makes. He'll use your holes around the clock if you let him - but he's a good boy, so he'll stop if you ask him to. In other, don't expect any indulgences, he has almost low control over himself, being at the mercy of his instincts and hellish, unbridled arousal all day long - poor Yuji himself is waiting for it all to end, it exhausts him almost to the point of insanity.

He loves making you cum at the same time as him; at the same time, he's always hungry for your praise - he literally melts from it, go ahead. You can gently touch your belly as you sit on his knot, push a little on the protruding outline of his cock - this boy already whimpers every time you squeeze him, hell yeah he'll go crazy Yuji just can't help himself and will start licking your face like a real puppy, and please - please (!), touch it, touch it lower…

It might be safer for you to wait it out, but I'm afraid that if you do, Yuji won't be able to forgive himself or you. He'll be able to let you go, he won't hold you back, but his trust in you will be shattered. Okay, if it happens in the beginning, before the guy even touches you, but if you disappear a couple days later, or even near the end, Itadori will be very worried about it. Yeah, he'll be freaking out - what if he did something wrong? Did he hurt you? Or maybe you just stopped liking him? No, no. For a creature who only seeks your approval, this would equate to a simple ditching - you'd break his heart.

"P-mg-please…!" Itadori is rendered speechless by how skillfully you saddle his hips. Don't slow down.

MAHITO

Mahito is crazy on his own - the heat has almost no effect on him unless he wants it himself. If you think he doesn't normally touch you - you are sorely mistaken. He may spend nights exploring your body out of pure interest, Mahito won't hold back his curiosity even if you catch him doing it - in fact, it will only encourage him to continue, even with more fervor, roughly touching everything he can reach with his fingers.

The guy will spread your legs, playing with your hole and rubbing your wretched clit until you start gasping from overexcitement and inability to cum. Oh, this guy is cunning - he'll use every trick in his arsenal to bring you to the point of exhaustion. You may be wondering why you can't cum. It's simple really, Mahito just won't let you do it until he's played with you. You're wondering "how"? Well, speaking of his tricks, some manipulation of your soul results in this - you'll start feeling his touch everywhere, by the end of your adulteries, there won't be a place on your body that this pervert hasn't touched; indeed, inside you too.

He'll let you play with the feathers on his wings. In truth, he looks more like a particularly fluffy bat than a bird. They're actually very soft, but you don't want to touch them for too long - just look at his eyes at that moment and you'll understand. If suddenly he grabs you and presses you against him, burying his nose in your neck, don't twitch, and certainly don't try to break free. Relax and sit like that for a few minutes - settle on his hips, make yourself as comfortable as you like, fidget as much as you like - the guy's like Ken in there, so you don't have to worry about that, but you don't want to provoke his irritation.

On average, it's still not that bad. If only Mahito didn't clean out your fridge daily, things would still be exactly as they should be. But, of course, the weirdness doesn't end there - one day he might just come along and screw your ass - it's up to you to decide what to do about it. Hopefully you know how a prostate massage is done, it will probably be enough for him - at the very least just play with his hole, oh it will throb so violently every time you hit some point deep inside the guy. After all, this creature better not be denied too harshly.

"Ha-ha-ha!" The guy laughs loudly as you burrow your fingers into his feathers. Just, don't yank those overly hard.

NANAMI KENTO

Nanami is a sufficiently mature man to sit down with you before all of this and discuss some of the details of the coming period. Along with that, you have to decide what to do about it - he'll ask you a few times if you're ready for it before settling down and leaving you to mull over what's going on. The fox has enough control over his state of mind that, if anything, he'll be able to stop in time and not hurt you much - at most, it'll be bruises on the wrists he likes to hold above your head so much. Usually, he tries to finish as quickly as he can, but sometimes he'll catch on.

You might regret allowing yourself the idea that sex with him is boring when the man continues to lazily thrust into you after two hours, not wanting to stop and shoving his cock into your tortured holes no matter what. But judging by the fact that even in this state, Kento continues to care about more than just his own pleasure - you're bound to cum next. Probably more than once. A man likes it when you beg him and call him daddy. He has no idea why, but it makes him fuck you rougher, counting to sparks from your eyes and buckling legs, possibly affecting your ability to sit up properly or even stand without bending over from the pain in your stomach and ass… It's sure to be worse than your period.

Kento is a responsible man, he will definitely take care of his partner afterwards, because he knows very well what state you're in right now. He'll help you get to the bathroom if you don't mind - he'll even wash you with a nice bit of warm water, and in the morning you'll have breakfast waiting right in bed. After all, like a true gentleman, he should take care of you, no matter how tired he is; after all, you also took care of him. The only exception is when you make him jealous. In those cases, he is unable to even clean himself up, let alone do anything else. And, you're already wondering how to do it.

After this ambiguous period, Nanami will lose a lot of weight because his body can no longer consume food in the same quantities as it did during the rut. At times, he will simply forget to eat, due to his poor condition - frequent dizziness and general weakness, he will be immensely pleased if you show care towards him. It is better to ventilate the apartment more often - low temperatures man tolerates better than heat - and already tired of this condition, the man will want only normal rest. In addition, it is worth specifying the fact that he has a very sensitive sense of smell. Sharp odors irritate him, be careful with this.

"Are you alright?" A slightly hitched, loud breath comes out of the man's chest with a slight whoosh.

NORITOSHI KAMO

Noritoshi is a pretty darling dude, he's embarrassed enough to talk to you about it, but he'll definitely give you a couple words of warning so it's not a total surprise. Sweetness, he just doesn't know what to make of it. It's just as unfamiliar to him as it is to you - feeling his own body in this way is obviously new to the boy. So, he will definitely ask for your help in solving this problem.

During the rut, the guy stays calm and even seems a bit sleepy, and that's actually true - if he could, he'd be asleep all day long, but alas, it will not be possible to just lay this thing off - no matter how much he wants to. If the fox seems a little grumpy to you at first, that's normal. Aggression in the first couple of days is natural for his species, and even though he tries his best to keep it to a minimum, his fluffy tail will still rise up every time he sees you. Massage his head, especially near his ears, and play with his hair a bit - you can comb it with a coarse-toothed comb to relax him.

The guy is as calm as a boa constrictor during this process - he has only one goal, to release tension; mostly his own, but you can work with that - the guy just doesn't know what to do with you, guide him a little, help him understand exactly what you want from him and he will pick it up immediately - he learns quickly. After all, Camo is well aware that there's not much you can do alone - he's at your pleasure, especially when he's blown away. The pace stays the same, darling, you probably won't even notice it, because you'll be blacking out just a couple minutes after the guy enters this state - most likely neither you nor he will understand why it happened; he - because he doesn't remember anything that happened to him during this state, you - for obvious reasons, just can't know it. Only the marks on your body and neck will be any hint of what happened.

Noritoshi is trying to take care of you - he's not a stupid person and realizes that you need follow-up care, even if you seem quite alert. He will gently but insistently guide you to the bathroom and put you to bed, perhaps he can also stretch your stiff legs if he notices that you can't find a comfortable position. You can ask him for help at any time - his fluffy ears will instantly turn in your direction, and he'll listen to your every word.

"Lay still, you need to rest." To the question: "do you?" the guy only lets out a slight, barely elusive chuckle and sighs deeply.

OKKOTSU YUTA

It's not so clear-cut with him. You can't be fully prepared for your furbaby's heat, no matter what you do before it. No one knows what will suddenly click in his poor head and what he will do to fulfill his desires. You don't have to worry, though - he treats you like a princess, carries you around on his arm and makes you stay close to him; even if you don't like it very much, I highly recommend listening to him. Well, if it makes you feel any better - Yuta will always be more dangerous to others than to you.

Oh, his flushed face is so inviting. Press your lips against his - bite them, kiss them like it's your last time, and he'll return the favor. Yuta usually moves at a relatively slow pace, letting you relax and get used to him - to fully experience the process. The tingles rushing across your skin like electric shocks, something brackish on your lips, the cool air from the room contrasting so sharply with the heavy, hot breath that mingles with your languid moans caressing your ears.

Okkotsu likes it when you're on top. No, you still don't have complete control - Yuta is like a caring, overprotective parent, sort of letting his baby have all the fun he wants, but ready to interrupt and take over at a moment's notice. In fact, he really does treat you like a baby. Despite the external insecurity, the guy is really aware of what he is doing and what consequences can come out of all this - he has plenty of responsibility, but sometimes it's hard to take him seriously. Ah, yes, in spite of that, you still have to deal with a little bit of guardianship from his side, although it should be the other way around, but that's another story.

This cutie is hungry for affection - you can touch him everywhere, from his soft (slightly greasy) ears to the tip of his tail. His reaction will probably be the most adequate - he likes to be touched, but he is calm about it, without much passion, like a normal cat, even when he is constantly in a state of slight excitement. Unless your actions become a little more intense. A little more pressure, a slight pull, a soft and rhythmic massage, lower… This will already be perceived as a signal for action. But don't worry, you can touch him at any time without any problems - he even encourages it. In his own way, with a short lick on the cheek or a playful nibble on the neck, but he's really pleased that you're taking such initiative.

"Hey-hey-hey-hey, sparkle, that's not the point-you shouldn't be walking around like that after being so overwhelmed!" The guy turns around to see you, awakened by the delicious aroma coming from the kitchen and now frozen in the doorway, wagging your tail unhappily as the oil in the pan sizzles and shoots upwards. Oops, looks like you accidentally ruined the surprise.

RYŌMEN SUKUNA

Do you think he's possessive? Well, I'll stop you in your tracks - more like yandere on steroids. You'll have to take a day off work - better a vacation right away, because Sukuna will not tolerate other people's scent on you at any stage of his rut - none at all, except his own. Be sure that you have enough food at home, because heaven forbid you should bring even that slight residue of perfume from the elevator on you… It won't be good for you or the unfortunate person whose cologne was left hanging in the air before it settled on your clothes.

Sukuna treats you like a sex slave, a fuck toy, an inferior being, even with his four arms around your frail body and his cocks deep inside your insides and his dry lips whispering dirty words in your ear. His attitude won't change, darling, but you'd better always stay within the confines of the same room with him and obediently spread your legs whenever he demands it. In fact, you can initiate intercourse yourself - he won't stop you from pleasuring him, but know that even after that, he'll be sure to fuck you properly.

His favorite spot is the windowsill; pressing you against the glass, knowing full well that someone might notice you… There's something about it. For some reason, a man especially likes to bend you roughly over right in front of him, making you rest your hands on the frame and shiver with each of his thrusts, while all his hands move slowly all over your body - stroking every curve, your swollen tummy, the waist so perfectly suitable for him to place one pair of his hands on it, your sweet titties bouncing with the rest of your body, while down below, your womb making the loudest, most shameful sounds just for him - Ryomen loves you whole and entire, even if he will never admit it to you or to himself. Oh, if you can ever forget him (which is impossible in itself), the feeling of his cock in your pussy will not be erased from your memory. He is the master in your relationship, rather than you. And he likes to pamper his pet.

Sukuna has a very sensitive tail. If you ever want to touch it, ask permission, and then treat it as if it might fall apart at the slightest gust of wind. Under no circumstances, God forbid, do not sit on it. Never, ever. Ryomen will not look at your relationship or your affection and empty, stale feelings as his heart. He might not kill you, but he'll maim you for sure. In fact, he'll like you all he wants, but you're not likely to bounce back quickly - and the scars on your body will be an eternal reminder of your small but painful misstep and how dangerous he can be. During sexual intercourse, you can lightly massage the very base of his back - where the fur meets the human part of his back - your actions will definitely be met by his approving purr, which may well pass for a growl, only slightly muffled (only for you!). The only thing - make sure that your hands are dry, and the fur does not stick to them (and it is better to touch only human skin around. That area is also sensitive, but he'll probably like it better).

"So pretty, little slut… Come on, come on, get your hand away from your face - I want to see your adorable face!" Mockingly mutters Ryomen, continuing to move, and making you bite your lip as both of his cocks pierce your holes - too much? You beg him to stop.

FUSHIGURO MEGUMI

Even if Megumi is collected and calm at first, eventually even he'll start to waver. His seemingly stable state will become a trap - he'll be ready to tear you apart if you get too close, because he doesn't know what to do with his new state yet. It's hard for him; try to talk to him from a distance, offer your help - we are responsible for those we tame. If you can make a deal with him, he'll reluctantly get up and follow you into the bedroom, but if Fushiguro starts turning away from you and snorting, looking away and down, stop trying, it's not going to get you anywhere. Of course, I won't stop you from trying, but who knows what he'll do if you keep seducing him.

The guy will bite you. Back of the neck, almost behind the ear - you know. It's not his bad whim (although it's hard to be responsible for that anymore), it's more of an instinct. Is it so hard to wait for him to tag his beautiful mate? He eventually gets used to all this and starts to take a lot more initiative, sometimes grunting tiredly into your neck and wagging his tail, he still doesn't like his condition, but over time the guy becomes more tolerant of it all - taking it for granted, which isn't great, but anyhow better than a complete refusal to deal with it.

Megumi is a smart boy, he knows exactly what happens if you overdo it, so he always picks a pace that is comfortable for both of you. For some reason, Fushiguro likes sex facing a reflection. He often moves that big full-length mirror in the corner of the room to your bed and spreads your legs in front of it, playing with your wet hole for long periods of time, making you squirm in his arms and beg for his cock, occasionally praising you and mumbling what a good girl you are - so obedient in his arms. It really turns him on, his flushed cheeks and eyes twitching with pure delight - what you'll see in that very mirror, if you can do it, while his fingers are so deep inside you, caressing places you didn't even know existed - you just have to wonder, "How?" he manages to do that with just his hands?

He loves it when you cook his food - your cooking basically. You can spend half a day in the kitchen, be sure your labors will not go unnoticed, he will eat everything and thank you. If suddenly, you're wondering about the reward - don't worry, he's very generous, especially when he's fed and satisfied. Megumi is damn fascinated by the way you try to please him - no matter how he's feeling at the moment, he'll always be mesmerized by the movements of your hands as if under hypnosis. Stroke his head, and once you're free, massage his ears, and he'll be completely at your mercy, his eyes at that moment just something filled with boundless devotion and delight.

"Ha-ah, honey, you're just adorable," Megumi kisses you loudly on the top of your head, caressing your thighs with joy in his gaze and pulling you to him. Ah, yes, the sudden bursts of joy and mood swings were worth getting used to.

FUSHIGURO TOJI

Absolute Asshole 2.0. He knows how much you enjoy riding his cock and takes full advantage of it. Toji teases you on purpose - accidentally miss when he seemed ready to be inside you? Slow down at the most inopportune moment? Oh, along with that, he also enjoys watching you melt, literally fall apart on his cock like a trained slut.

Fushiguro prefers to take turns using your holes, making sure both are filled. It's exhausting - but this man is relentless. With him, you're sure to have a hard time. After two days, there won't be a surface in your house that he hasn't fucked you on. Not to mention he'll snap on the first day - ask him to tie himself up and don't expect fair play. And if he does make the knots tight enough, you'll have to voluntarily do to him what he does to you on your own - not without that, alas.

You'll have to force him into the shower - he'll be completely neglected the moment he decides he doesn't need it. In fact, he does - and even if he doesn't normally smell, during the rut the whole house smells of that disgusting musky odor. Relax, though: you'll eventually stop paying attention to him. Fun fact: in this state, Toji just hates the smell of cherries. If you decide to take a bath, use anything that doesn't have a cherry scent.

At times, Fushiguro will just come up to you and grab you like a teddy bear - twirling you around in his arms until you wrap your arms around him with tears in your eyes. There's something about. The way his big hands hold you up in the air and onto his cock with such ease. Hold on tight, it's really wild. After that, Toji really works up an appetite. A vicious appetite. Even if a man doesn't normally deny himself a refill, now he's just going to clean out your fridge, your cupboards, all the food in the house. You're gonna have to use a delivery guy. Use his credit card for that and don't be afraid.

"Baby, I think that smell is disgusting."

CHOSO

Choso will continue to take care of you even when you're in heat. The only problem is that this time his guardianship will increase many times over. Also, the guy is freezing all the time, and with that comes a panicky fear of water, especially cold water. That's why you'll have to sit with him in a thousand blankets and not the best odor coming from this pile, in which, he also rolled before it. He's a cat with a dog's demeanor.

He doesn't really need sexual stimulation, it's just a supplement. His mind is also consumed by instincts, but they are more about protecting his partner and something like nesting attracts him much more than a rude fuck. Of course, that doesn't mean he doesn't need sexual stimulation at all. You'll also have to spread your legs in front of him on a regular basis, but he'll be much softer, still capable of not completely losing control of yourself or the situation - you can totally relax, he'll do it all. If you're not ready for something more, he'll also accept that you just jerk him off - your hands are much nicer than his, covered with rough skin and calluses. Thighs are also an option - he can handle that part of his rut on his own (relatively), but it's up to you to figure out what to do with the rest.

For some reason, Choso really likes to bite you. Every bit of your body that he can reach, your neck will be covered in multiple painful bites and red marks. I'm afraid it's far from the most pleasant thing that's ever happened to you, but really, you're still lucky that it only takes him out in moments of obsession. Otherwise, you wouldn't have been able to tolerate it so successfully. If your neck is inaccessible - wrapped in bandages, or you've treated it with bitter medication - he might start doing the same thing to your wrists, or hips.

Guy loves when you talk to him - read him a bedtime story, he'll definitely enjoy it. Sometimes, Choso wakes up completely disoriented, as if he's forgotten where he is and what's going on. At such times, all he has to do is hug you and cuddle as tightly as he can, drawing in air and letting your scent fill his lungs completely. Because of this, Choso is often sticky with you, but he flat out refuses to go outside. At least a moment of peace (but don't stay out there longer than usual - otherwise he'll get anxious and might even follow you. This is especially unacceptable because Choso's spatial awareness is abysmal).

"Please don't move. Let's just lie like this… Just a little longer." The dude clearly doesn't notice the sweat dripping off you. He doesn't notice the sweat dripping off you, either, but he not only ignores it, he purrs low and low, burrowing deeper into the blanket.

mm-m, let's talk about… (ask box is open)

[georgeclarkewifey]

Inconvenience | g. clarke

Chapter 1 - Moving out

Word Count: 1.2K

summary: time for Noa to get out of her apartment, with the assistance of Mr Christopher Dixon

Warnings: extremely mild angst / sad undertones

noamurphy

liked by chrismd10, arthurtv and 10,373 others

noamurphy no bc why is packing the worst

comments open

chrismd10 you haven’t finished packing?

⮑ noamurphy perhaps not

arthurtv you’re moving in an hour you do realise?

⮑ noamurphy yes very aware thank you. and it’s more like in five minutes and not 1 hour

⮑ arthurtv so stop replying and get packing

fan1 omg is she moving in with the boys??

⮑ noamurphy never they’re too messy x

⮑ arthurtv I refute this comment

⮑ noamurphy okay lawyer

⮑ glambyflo god i can't wait for you to be here xx

⮑ noamurphy can't wait to see you!!

fan2 praying this means more Noa content with the boys

⮑ fan3 please!!! just having her occasionally appear in Chris’ videos isn’t enough

gkbarry_ everyone shut up my girl is moving to London

⮑ noamurphy all for you babe x

maxbalegde I need to meet you immediately as soon as you’ve moved in

⮑ noamurphy consider it done x

Noa felt on the verge of crying. On the one hand, she knew this was exactly what she wanted, moving out of her cramped apartment and away from her tormenting job, to a significantly better apartment and a small position at her dream architecture firm. Still, it was all very terrifying.

The move from Jersey to Edinburgh for university was hard enough, followed by a slightly rushed decision to do a masters in Cambridge meant that Noa never really felt settled wherever she went. So, when an apartment in the same building in which her childhood friends Arthur and Chris lived became available, she jumped at the chance. It wasn’t that her apartment was bad, it just didn’t feel like home - as hard as she tried, her room felt more like a dorm and office rolled into one, with plans and building ideas scattered around.

She rubbed her face, trying to stave of the feelings of exhaustion as more books were piled into one of the many half filled moving boxes. Regretting the four hours of sleep the night before, Noa reached to the side to grab her can of Monster, cursing when she found it empty.

"Knock knock! It's you're favourite person!" a voice called in the hallway, followed by the small pitter-patter of hobbit feet.

Noa rolled her eyes and stood up, grimacing at how her joints cracked as she stretched. "Either Arthur has dramatically shrunk, or something isn't right here."

Chris chuckled as he pulled Noa in for a hug, his eyebrows raising as he took in her state. "I see you've had an ample amount of sleep."

She chuckled, turning away from him to start closing the lids on the packing boxes. "You know I thrive off practically no sleep. That's how I did A Levels. And most of university." Noa shrugged.

"I'm aware. So how much packing have you got left to do? Because I'd preferably want to be on the road before it gets too busy." Chris asked, nervously glancing at his watch.

"Calm your tits Dixie we’ll be fine.” Noa grinned, walking into her cardboard box of a bedroom to grab her last couple of things. “But thank you though, I appreciate the help.”

Chris smiled, as he began stacking boxes in the hallway. “You’re welcome Noa, plus now that we’re living in the same building, I can just borrow all your stuff. And your food.”

“I thought the four of you were good at cooking? At least, when you have the right utensils and ingredients.”

“You weren’t the one who had to try those pizzas.” Chris shivered, trying to suppress the memories. “So it’s just these boxes yeah?”

“Sure is!” Noa called, emerging from the bedroom with a backpack and duffel bag. “One of the pros of renting a furnished place, don’t have to move all the furniture when you leave.”

“Are you gonna miss it?”

“Jesus no the mattress was horrible.”

“Not the furniture you idiot, the place in general.”

Noa shrugged as she did one last sweep of the kitchen, checking that she hadn’t left anything behind. “It was nice, but it just felt like the right time to move on.”

Chris nodded, picking up one of the lighter looking boxes, helping Noa ferry them into the hall.

As he grabbed the last box from the living room, curiosity got the better of him and he had a quick peek inside (Noa had written a note on the box telling him to specifically not look). His heart tightened at the sight of the blue football boots inside, mud streaks and grass stains still evident across soles and laces. The leather was deeply creased and the colour was worn around the eyelets of the laces, they used to be used frequently, but the small layer of dust that had collected on them proved that they’d been hidden away for a while.

Rifling around in the box more, he found the matching shin pads, as well as a collection of dog eared photos. Chris smiled fondly, holding the Polaroid up to the light so he could clearing see the people in the image.

It was himself, Noa and Arthur as kids - all grinning at each other. Noa’s hair was pulled up into a ponytail, which was once probably neat, but in the moment it was a mess, flyaways everywhere and her baby hairs sticking to her forehead. Arthur and Chris looked significantly younger, baby faces prominent, with a definitive lack of facial hair. Chris felt his eyes water with emotion, remembering the ecstasy of the moment. Even as an adult, the unbridled joy of seeing someone you cared for win their football league was contagious.

Though he couldn’t help but sigh sadly, knowing how much everything had changed.

“Christopher! I specifically wrote a note on that box for you not to rummage through that!” Noa sighed, taking it from his hands and repacking it quickly.

“Why not?”

“Because you’d get all like…this.” She replied, gesturing her arms up and down at him.

“You just gestured to all of me.” Chris said indignantly, screwing his face up in confusion.

“I’m aware.” Noa answered, pulling the front door open with a grunt, pushing some boxes with her left foot to hold it open. “Now let’s get this show on the road yeah?”

“You’re not even gonna acknowledge it?”

“Acknowledge what Chris?”

“Don’t do this Noa, c’mon.” He sighed, moving to block her view of the boxes that she was busying herself with. “You’ve still got those boots.”

“Sure do.” She replied shortly, piling a small valuables box on top of one marked ‘kitchen - don’t drop’. “Got all my football stuff in there.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Noa huffed. “What’s left to talk about? We’ve talked about it many times, I think we’ve covered everything. And it was five years ago Chris.”

Chris raised his eyebrows, not convinced. “Okay, okay, but if you want to talk, me and Arthur are here.”

“Very aware of that, thanks.”

author speaks: welcome to the first proper chapter! Hope you enjoyed it :)

[fsuna]

MODERN LOVE SONGS

⊹ ⋆˚ 𓏲 – minors dni. fem!reader. heavy smut. cucking. cheating. slight voyeurism. daddy kink. unprotected sex. oral (m & f). pussy talking. fingers in a-hole. consensual recording. not proofread. just random song lyrics + hq boys <3 masterlist. tokyo rev version otw.

wakatoshi. bokuto. osamu. atsumu. sakusa. suna. kenma. kuroo.

WAKATOSHI

"never thought i'd leave my kids until i left them in her mouth,"

toshis above you trailing breathless curses as he watches you suck him off threw his lashes- jaw painfully aching as you blow his big dick while he keeps a hand on the back of your head, fingertips coiling within your loose hair. a pinkish hue blushes across his cheeks while your mouth slowly invites his whole length in your throat, the button of your nose nuzzling against his pubs.

your eyes are watery from the countless times his swollen tip had poked at the back of your mouth, spit escaping out from the corners of your lips to run down to his balls. a laugh so sinful that can make you cum untouched from beneath your panties exits from toshi once he notices your signature glittery lip gloss smeared all over the base of his cock and your pigmented mascara plastered past your under eyes.

“such a doll, suckin’ my dick so motherfuckin’ good- missed getting your faced fucked, didn’t you?”

his cock begins to twitch against the walls of your tight throat, panting and swearing nonstop till he’s cumming all up in your mouth, warm semen brimming over to both your lips and chin giving him the best fucking sight he has ever seen.

BOKUTO

"yeah i heard she got surgery, still wanna clap from the back just to see if her ass soft,"

raw dogs pussy from the back like it's the first time he's in one since the day he came out of one every. fucking. time. bo has your kneecaps dug deep in his king sized mattress- the tainted sounds of skin smacking plug your ears as he keeps a strong hand latched on your hip, rocking your lower back and forward against his pungent thrust. he's a tease too, you know- placing his two thumbs over your asshole to maul the nub just so he can feel your wet pussy clench and throb, his fat heavy balls slapping off your ass.

he’s the biggest you’ve ever taken. gosh his dicks so fucking huge, it’s like he gets even bigger every time you see him, but it makes you so wet. so wet you don’t even need to use any form of lubricant for him to stuff you up.

and now he's fucked you so damn stupid that the strength to talk has vanished for you- firm hands setting painful slaps on your naked ass before squeezing it sorely, making sure you'll be able to feel the flaming sensation his gigantic palms left on your bum for the next few days whenever you try to sit. you love it though- in love with how he stretches you out, making you feel so fucking full.

“yeah, you love that, don’t ya, pretty baby? ‘bouta fill this pussy up cause daddy knows that’s what ya want,”

SAKUSA

"you can call her phone and i'll probably answer,”

to him, the timing of this phone call couldn't have been more perfect- knowing you're so so close by the way your velvety walls pulsate against his hard cock on repeat.

“pick it up, baby. your man's callin' you. don't wanna ignore him now do we?”

a real meanie. takes it upon himself to answer your boyfriends phone call, picking up your phone before pressing the speaker button so you talk to the poor guy while he continues to fuck the literal living breathing shit right out of you. right on top of the shared bed with your boyfriend.

god he wants to laugh so freaking badly- pulling out of your messy hole dangerously slow only to pound back inside you with no word other then a sinning grin while he gives your tits a paining smack loud enough for your boyfriend to catch it crystal clear.

"we'll then, pretty? go head and tell him how kiyoomi fuckin' sakusas made you his bitch and you're about to cum all over his big cock, or i'm tellin' him myself."

couple seconds later he’s got you creaming all on his length as your boyfriend from the other line hears you have the most phenomenal, toe curling, life changing, spine tingling orgasm you've ever faced.

AKAASHI

“she callin’ me daddy, i’m somebodies father,”

keijis got your wimpy legs draped over his shoulders, his sweat lined forehead kissing your own as he watches your pretty face expressions shift while your pussy hustles to lure in every inch of his big dick in.

but now he's just as fucked out as you are- hips rutting against yours with more desperation each time- moans becoming more winded once he’s sure he's close to filing you up to the brim. he’s fucked you so good your brains turned into mush, little yelps slipping from your parted lips as you feel every last ragged vein located on his dick draw against your delicate walls.

“fuck- love your cock so much, daddy! don’t want you to stop!

your holding onto his biceps, the tips of your acrylics jagged in his bare flesh as he reaches all of your sensitive points till your poor ol’ cunt milks him dry, womb filling up with his cum before he’s fucking another one in you right after.

“and i fucking love this cunt, angel. want you to be a good girl and take daddys cock one more round for me,”

SUNA

"she came for me twice, i didn't even nut for her once, you know i'm a pleaser,”

the perfect mixture of sweetheart and asshole during sex. when he finds the need, he’ll be a fucking sadist. but he knows how to please you the right way.

rintarōs number one concern is for you to cum. and if he can make it happen more then once before he’s shooting his own load in either one of your holes, then he will.

he looses it once he feels your dripping cunt squeeze him in, hips bucking up and rocking in you harder and harder. just after two orgasms you were awfully cum drunk, eyes crossing ‘n rolling back while he’s got your tits bouncing back and forth as your almost exploding-grip on his varsity team t-shirt tightens.

sunas dragging dreamy moans and whimpers from you as he sinks in his cock deep in your tummy. he cant tear his gaze off the way your puffy folds are sprawled around his dick, sticky body stiffening once his stomach coils from the familiar feeling of his orgasm edging him.

but he doesn’t wanna give in just yet. especially since he’s sure you’re not far yourself from reaching your high once more.

“shit- ‘got the tightest little pussy. think you can cum for me jus’ one more time, angel? c’mon, know you got it in ya, wanna see you cream on me again,”

KUROO

"we gon' make a movie like ray jay and kim kardash,"

bouncing in his strong lap, kuroos iphone’s blocking half of his face as he focuses on recording his pretty girl getting herself off on his cock- filming how desperate you are for his cum while he words the dirtiest things known to man behind that phone of his.

gives your tits a couple smacks before he’s toying with your nipples, wet cunt pulsating around his length once you feel his cold fingertips on your skin. it felt like your pussy was being slip into half- your little hole always striving to compromise to his monstrous size no matter how many times it’s been fucked by his cock.

“soo pretty- my girl wanted to ride me on camera tonight. ‘missed this cute cunt, baby. all fucking mine,”

your sore hips are grinding on his dick, teary eyes closed tightly as you feel all those inches he’s packing inside what really felt like your literal gut. he was near to pulling your first orgasm of that night, cocktip piercing your cervix once you seat back down nice and slow on him one last time till your cums caking his throbbing length- phone getting inches close to your messy cunt that was sparkling from your sweet arousal.

“god look at that shit. f-fucking hell- you gonna make me cum, sweetheart, wanna fill you up so badly,”

OSAMU & ATSUMU

"that p get devoured, told my brother she ours,”

the heavy weight of osamus cock stretches your suffering pussy out, spasming walls never failing to make his dick feel blissed out inside your wet cunt. he can't take his eyes away from it either, watching how his mesmerizing pussy takes all of him in in one piece, your finger nails embellishing his firm back with pigmented scratches.

"look at you, taking ‘samu like a fuckin' champ. wet ass pussy leakin' all over the place. been that desperate for a cock up in you, huh?"

his hips grind up into your cunt, brushing over your cervix as you beg him to keep fucking you harder and harder- to which your wish becomes granted, skin slapping being the only thing heard as he coils your insides till you're completely slurring your words.

the blonde twins got his fingers invading your drooling mouth, chocking your small throat roughly with his middle and index, spit dribbling down your chin while the other twins hips thrust upwards uncontrollably- his tip scarping the sore point inside you.

his cocks so deep inside you it almost burns, making you feel so full. osamus emphasizing each and every praise he voices with a savage thrust, his sweaty abdomen tensing up from your pretty cunt pulsating.

your mouth's falling open dramatically once he lines your hole livid white, squealing noises of your sloppy pussy drowning in his ears while he fucks into you as his slit clears out his cum.

"such a needy slut for my cock. goin' all dumb after a quick fuck. now get up 'n let ‘tsumu fuck all this cum back in ya,"

KENMA

"then you'll end up sittin' all over my bottom lip, baby,"

eats you slowly cause he's sooo in love with your pussy. always savoring your aroma with each kiss and lick he plants on your fluttering folds. loves whispering praises sweet as candy knowing it only gets you wetter and wetter. his pink tongue swirls over your clit, slurping up your addictive arousal as you pull at his two toned strands from above, his hungry moans buzzing against your precious folds.

"holy shit you’re so wet, i make you feel good huh, princess? mmm- taste so fucking good, could eat this cute pussy every single day,”

converses directly with your pussy cause duh? she's got lips too yk- watching your glossy slick spill to your weakened thighs whenever he says something absolutely vile as his head stays buried between your two legs.

groans against your pounding sex as his finger travels to your clit, circulating at it to draw you closer to your orgasm- and you know his gamer fingers are fucking peerless. nothing will ever compare to the way he fucks up into your small hole with them, the tips trailing against your walls as his versed thumb rubs at your clit till he's got you pulling a picasso- painting his pretty fucking face with your cum before he gives you the same treatment back in return.

© FSUNA

[iloveaustinelvisandmannymore]

Forbidden affair.

Pairing: Toji fushiguro x chubby reader.

Warning: Cheating, Toxic love affair, Jealousy, Gaslighting, Pregnancy, Arguments, Possessive Toji, Passionate sex, fingering, Oral (Fem), Pregnancy sex, Breastfeeding, wall sex, Ausgt.

Summary: it was supposed to be the same, help a happy couple, help create their future but one look in his eyes and you were doomed.

A/n: Fanart, not mine.

Verdant, like glistening emeralds, was a dangerous temptation, such desire, was the telltale of your doom. Sounds of impatient foot-tapping still rings in your ear each time you think of him.

The words of the doctor and his wife faded once you glazed upon him, what a bewitching beauty. Onyx hair, like that of coal, hangs in front of those green memorizing jewels that he was fortunate to call his a build that heavyweights envy and strive for and a scar down the right side of his lip. He was beautiful.

You moved in a couple of weeks after of course once the doctor had confirmed you were with child. The house was pretty and traditional, even cozy. Many mornings were spent cocking your breakfast and bitterly listening to Kimkio's sobs of pleasure as Toji no doubt showed no mercy on his small wife and you could not help but be envious of her luck, happiness, looks, and otherwise perfect life.

Each time they came out of their room to eat she'd always smile so sweetly and greet you while she barely stood straight you had to push those petty feelings down and smile. So stuck in pretending to be nice you failed to notice the animalistic, want glint Toji's glaze as he skillfully watches you move around, without seeming he wasn't paying attention to you at all, a perk from his job if you will. You were delectable, simply pretty there was something gorgeous about your portly form, the small jiggle of your breasts, stomach, and thighs that drove him crazy with want and Toji fushiguro always got what he wanted, rather if people liked it or not.

You groaned and walked to the kitchen with items that would surely be on your craving wants.

"you're home." Toji hiccuped, taking a swig of Asahi Super Dry and leaning against the wall. "Tojj are you drunk?" you frowned, and stopped putting away the groceries. " 'm not." he slurred which answered that question. "Come on, let's get you to bed." you shook your head and strolled to him. Surprisingly he didn't put up a fight as you took his hand and led the way to his bed. "there you go." you smiled gently, moving a lock of hair away from his closed lids. You couldn't help but wonder if he did this every time Kimiko left on a business trip.

You gasped when a firm griped your wrist once you stood up and pulled you onto Toji, who quickly pinned you to the bed he bed "Where ya goin'?" toji slurred, pushing both your wrists to the mattress and weaved in between your legs. Your heart skips a beat, Toji was as handsome as he always was. His bedroom prasine orbs held lust you haven't seen before and his ebony hair acted like a curtain more that he leaned closer to your lips "Well?". "I-I thought you were asleep." you stuttered, heart racing inside your ears.

No words were exchanged but the pressing of lips, and the swirling of tongues wasn't far behind, his kisses were mind-numbing, and a lingering pleasure. Blurrs of clothes being taken off and thrown impatiently barely registered within the carnal lust. His hips rocked against your ass, thrusting his cock into your tight, slick, and saliva-covered cunt "Damn fuckin' perfect thighs." Toji groaned, his grip on your jiggling thighs tightening "And this stomach." Toji growled as he dragged his tongue up your bouncing pudgy belly to your breasts. "just my type." he slurred with hooded eyes, sucking and licking your nipple, his hand rolling the other between his thick digits. You gasped, his strong arms grabbed hold of your middle and pulled you onto his lap as he sat back "Gonna ride me yeah?" Toji's words spread a fire through your core "You can do it pretty girl." He cooed, his hands now holding your rear. Kissing him passionately, you lifted your hips before completely slamming down his member "Goddamn pretty girl." Toji choked out and used your ass as leverage to pump into you from below, every push in and out you felt each vein, his bulbous tip hit your cervix and gspot in one that made your toes curl as he fucked you like it was the end of the world. The squelching of the pairing of your soaked cunt and his glistening cock was inching your climax closer, causing your poor pussy to pulse "Cum, fuckin' come on this fat cock!" Toji growled, attacking your neck with kisses. "Fuck!" you screamed, your hips stuttering from your overwhelming orgasm.

Toji groaned, pouring his seed within your clamped pussy, milking his balls dry. Gently Toji laid you back on the bed and pulled out, chuckling at your tired whine as he did and pulled you into his warm embrace, his chest supporting your head, his arm snuggling you into his side "Sleep," he mumbled into your hair "I'll be here." your soft sores followed and a sinister smirk graced his lips, damn he should make a career in acting.

"She's my wife! Just because 'm fuckin' you, doesn't mean you're special!" Toji got into your face "Get that through that thick skull" he said harshly as he tapped your head with two of his fingers. You glared at him and slapped his digits away "Fuck off prick." you hissed and walked into the bathroom. "Don't walk away f'me." Toji spat and grabbed your arm, his hold was hard, so rough you knew a bruise would arise. "I do whatever I want to do. Why don't you find a whore to fuck!" you yelled, yanking and failing to free your trapped arm. "Maybe I fuckin' will." Toji growled, letting go of your forearm and walked away.

The slamming of the front door, informed you he truly left.

You sank onto the toilet as silent tears began to fall that soon turned into sobs. Maybe you deserved this, nothing good comes from falling for a married man, especially a man like Toji but you delused that he was different..he was so sweet to you after that night, and the continuous nights that followed now you see you were just a fool.

Days passed and he hadn't returned. Sleeping became more hard to come by, so used to his body next to you as you slept and craving came like a hurricane.

The baby however continues to grow, and the baby bump finally more noticeable past your rotund stomach. TV played some trashy show in which you barely paid any attention as you scooped more of the chocolate ice cream and swallowed it from the spoon. 'I hate him. I hate him. I hat-' your bitter thoughts stopped abruptly, quickly you paused the show and pushed yourself off the loveseat as the sound of a door being unlocked.

"Toj-Oh Mrs. Fushiguro, Welcome home!" you greet her feigning cheerfulness. "I'm glad to be back," Kimiko smiled and put her shoes, coat, and bag in their respective places "How are you, and the baby?" she asked, laying her hands on your baby bump. "We're good." you forced a smile, feeling all but comfortable by her touch. "Where's Toji by the way? I didn't see his car in the driveway" she questioned and took her hands off your stomach. "Oh, he left to hang out with a friend for a while. Don't know when he'll be back," you replied. "Okay..."Kimiko trailed off, a look akin to anger on her pretty pale face.

Toji still hasn't returned, and it's been a week. You could barely stand being in the same room as Kimiko, the remainder that you had fucked her husband more than once hit hard so you tried to get out as much as you could that's when you met Aoto, a sweet and considerate man that you quickly became friends. Today you both decided to go to a popular cafe, the weather was warm and sunny, the perfect day to sit outside. You laughed at a joke that Aoto said, and in the corner of your eyes you noticed a man coming your way, he seemed angry.

"Who's this?" Toji spat, glaring at the small man, a glint brimmed with murderous intent. "Oh, umm this is Aoto Tanaka, my friend," you piped nervously, Toji didn't even look at you. "Who do you think you are?" Toki questioned, placing his hands on the table and leaning closer to Aoto's face "Ya want to fuck her huh?" Toji accused. "W-what? No! It's not like that!" Aoto tried to plead his case as he looked anywhere besides You and Toji. "Bullshit," Toji growled and picked up your friend by his shirt and throw him to the hard concrete. Your eyes widened in horror, you were unable to move as you watched Toji drop to his knees on top of Aoto and punch him in the face, the blow causing blood to flow out of his nose, Toji continued to bash Aoto.

The screams around you broke you from your state and you hurried to try to help, "Toji, Stop!" you cried as you tugged at his arm, "Please, you're scaring me!". Toji breathed heavily and stood up, "She's mine, bitch." Toji spat on Aoto's face for good measure and grabbed your arm, and your purse pulled you along. "Why the fuck did ya let some bitch close to you!" Toji pushed you into an ally way and trapped you against the brick wall, making you drop said purse. "You're mine.". "I'm nobody's to own! I'm my own person!" you hissed and attempted to wiggle free. "Like hell!" you flinched as he yelled, a sharp pain in your stomach caused you to hold your baby bump and almost fall, luckily Toji quickly caught you. "Baby?!" Toji shook you as you gained and lost consciousness.

Groaning you opened your eyes, the sound of peeping and a sterile smell surrounded you. "Oh, honey you're awake." a woman, who you assumed was your assigned was designated nurse. "How long was I out?" you asked, your voice raspy, a groan followed after as a strong headache rang through.

"A week," she replied as she checked your vitals, "Your baby boy is just fine, congratulations by the way." She turned around and smiled, her hand resting on yours, "If you wish in a few hours you can go home, do you have a ride?" you shook your head. "Oh," She frowned "Well then don't worry, we can call a taxi to take you home," she reassured, patting your hand, and left the room to continue her job. You were released three hours later, the ride home was silent, a true blessing. Once he pulled up the driveway, you thanked the driver and got out, your purse on your shoulder, and keys in hand. You have never been so grateful to be home, by yourself than you are now,.

Walking inside you placed your keys on the rack, take off your shoes, and throw your purse onto the couch as you walk past the furniture and to your bedroom, plopping down on the soft bed, "Fuck me." you groaned, you were being so foolish, nothing good came from fucking married men yet something about Toji was addicting, enchanting.

You need a few days by yourself.

That didn't even last two days, you already texted Kimiko about wanting some time alone, and she immediately texted, a little hesitant and worried, although she still understood your point and said that if you needed anything to let hurt know. However, Toji didn't, on the second day heavy, rapid knocks sang within your house, yelling and shouting following suit, it went on for hours before he gave up and went home, the third day he continued to disturb the neighborly peace, and you continued to ignore him. In time he stopped bothering you and you took that as a chance to get out for fresh air and a snack.

You smiled as you waved at a friendly neighbor and unlocked the door, the house was dark except for a dimly lit light that shined from the living room, which was on when you left. Your breath hitched as you moved as silently as you could to your kitchen and grabbed a knife from the wood block, slowly you approached the living room, hiding behind the hall wall, and peaked over the wall.

"Good, you're home," Toji said nonchalantly, his head resting against his knock as his ankle lay on his thigh as he sat on your loveseat. "What are you doing here?" your eyebrows frowned as watched as he got up from the loveseat and woke backward when he began to stroll towards you. "You've been ignoring me, what other way to get ya attention?" Toji griped your jaw in his hand once he backed you against the wall, his other running up and down your tubby sides. "You.." you trailed off as his hand slid down your stomach into your pants and underwear, his fingers parting your folds and rubbing your slit. "you what? Why don't you let me take care of ya huh? Let me make it up to you." Toji whispers before licking your neck, nipping, and suckin', as his digits now rolls your nub between them. "Please," you begged even though everything told you not to let him. You mewled, Toji's kiss muffed every whimper and moan, he slipped his finger in your slimy, stick opening, his palm jerking up your clit. Your juices overflowed his hand, no part of his hand wasn't coated in your slick.

Toji away from your heat kiss, a sting of saliva snapped as he pulled away, "You're mine, you fuckin' got me" Toji snarled and lifted you into his capable arms when you simply nodded, eyes glossed over with lust and followed your directions to your bedroom. You let a loud whoa as he pushed you upon the wall, and sat you down to tear your pants and everything with it, "You got me fucked up, thinkin' you ain't mine." his eyes a darker green than before, working off his clothes he slaps your one of thick thighs, you knew what that meant and you spread them.

"You'll always be and don't forget it." he said as he picked you up, his cock lay heavy upon your sticky folds "Do you understand?" he glared at you. "Yes! Yes, please!" you cried "Want you bad! Fuck me!" you whined, bucking your hips, his dick sliding up your lips as you did so. "alright I tortured you enough." Toji smirked smugly, without any shame. His fat cockhead jabbed into your pussy, not hard to hurt but it certainly made your eyes roll," Feel good baby?" Toji cooed mockingly. You open your mouth to reply, and the only thing that leaves your lips is a yelp as he tore through your last remaining clothing, he begins to suckie on your nipple drawing your warm breast milk, gulping down heaps of it as his cock rolled and pounded your cunt, "Damn the kid is lucky." Toji slurred as his rhythm sped up. Your eyes closed from the pleasure as your form buzzed, every part felt hot. Your eyes snapped open as a gasp was heard that wasn't from you, right there in the door frames was Kimiko, a hand over her mouth as she looked on the way Toji became one with you, tears that sat borderline of her orbs.

Toji slowed to a stop, his dick still lodged within your walls as he looked over his shoulder, his expression falling when he saw his wife. Without thinking he let you go, your body hit the floor, and a sharp pain shocked your body however before you could ask for help, Toji ran after Kimiko. You gritted your teeth as you crawled to your unlocked door and knocked over your purse rack, searching for your phone hectically and called 119, you waited as you felt like you were growing underwater "Hello, how may I help you?" a kind-sounding woman asked. "I'm pregnant a-and I fall. Please help me!" you said shakily. "Okay, ma'am im tracking your phone and the paramedics will be there soon. Just stay with me," she spoke as you heard fast typing on a keyboard, her calm voice helped lessen your fear. However, it was too hard to stay awoke and you gave into unconsciousness.

You jolted up from the piercing cry of a baby. Your baby was okay, you smiled as the doctors lifted him in the air, he looked exactly like his father, and you thought they would immediately lay him on your chest instead they handed your baby boy, Kimkio and Toji walked into the delivery room. Happy smiles on their faces as they strolled towards the door. "N-no, wait!" you choked out, tears falling freely down your cheeks as the nurse attended to you.

You were doomed from the start.

@yeonieess ,@archiviste0o0 , @xxmaddhatter39xx ,@hachrinnen, @tojishugetiddies ,@wrldtups ,@bblkesh, @ilovekeiarah, @tepes-wife ,@444ctrl ,@tqd4455 @myst

A/n: sorry my beautiful doves, midway I had lost motivation and I wanted to work on another things but I didn't want to not post it. So here it is, I hope you enjoyed it.

[the-fiction-witch]

My Turn

Media The Artful Dodger

Character Jack Dawkins

Couple Jack X Reader

Rating SMUT!

I woke as I often seem to find myself these days, my body laid in the cotton nightie I had worn to bid my mother and father goodnight, I'm honestly a little surprised it was still on me. I was warm and cosy, with a sweet cotton sheet over me, the mattress I laid on firm and functional with a metal bed frame which wasn't the best thing for secrecy as it tended to whine and squeak with every movement in the bed but I get this feeling in my stomach that was somewhat intentional. I laid on my back having turned there in my half awake state as I tended to sleep on my side or even my stomach sometimes, with a strong but slender arm draped over my waist, another I wasn't sure where, his warm body filled the other half of the single bed keeping things toasty and cozy for me, his grip lazier then it began from the tossing and turning and general relaxedness of sleep, I couldn't help but smile to realize I had woken up here again instead of my bed at home.

It may not creak, it may be double the size and may have more blankets then a girl will ever need but it doesn't have Jack. And this one does. Which makes me feel so very happy indeed. 

I began to stir more which seemed to have aroused him too as he began to stir with me until we found each other at the tip of the others nose 

“Good morning” I whispered

“morning, you don't have to whisper you know” he yawned 

“Walls have ears jack.”

“Do they know?” He chuckled “humm I think if these walls could listen, and of course then talk about what they listened, they might have some very interesting stories to tell” he smirked taking my hand intertwined our fingers together and peppering kisses on the top of my hand 

“I don't think those stories would be appropriate for children.” I giggled

“Absolutely not.” He smirked “I think many infact would fine some of them … highly deplorable” 

“Well your a deplorable boy” I giggled 

“Am I now?” He smirked “I'm sure the walls would have a good pile of stories that, if anyone was to hear about such a… innocent young lady, I'm sure they'd find you even more deplorable.” 

“I'm sure of it. Utterly despicable behavior” 

“Humm you're my despicable little darling aren't you?” He smirked finally connecting our lips immediately I tugged on his neck to pull him even closer as his arms wrapped tightly around me leaving me utterly in his grasp and rather unable to escape even if I wanted too, but I couldn't imagine a reason to want to, till he moved down to kiss my jaw, and then down my neck 

“I don't feel my actions would even reach the top twenty of the sortas of deplorable things these walls would speak of” 

“Don't you? Need I remind you, what my little angel was doing to me last night? Or will the meer suggestion of bouncing, bed creaking and … silk scarfs enough to jog your memory?” He smirked stroking his fingers across what little exposed skin I had in this nightie

“I'd hardly call that deplorable?”

“I don't know, a pretty little young lady creeping into a doctor's bedroom, for her to tie his hands to the bed with a silk scarf, strip naked and ride him like your personal  stallion. I don't know if I'd call it deplorable persay”

“What would you call it then?’ I giggled playing with his hair 

“Umm sexy as fuck -” he growled pulling me back to our kiss each kiss now getting more and more intense

“Humm I suppose you could call it that, but then if thats sexy as fuck, then what would we call a certain doctor who brought a young lady into his bed and kept her ankles above his shoulders for an hour and a half”

“i'd call it, a pretty tame Tuesday night” he growled stroking my cheek and kissing me intensely

“I need to go jack, I don't we could get in trouble.”

“We could, in so much trouble.” He growled pulling me back to a kiss and picking up my thigh to wrap it around his hip “tell me you don't want me, and I'll let you go” he smirked pushing up my nightie to stroke my bare leg 

“You know I can't do that” 

“Humm” he smirked “tell me you don't need me, and I'll let you slink on back to that big bed of yours.”

“That's not fair”

“Why not?”

“Because you know I can't” 

“No shame playing a game you know you win” he smirked moving his hand higher and higher “umm you had to wear that nightie didn't you? You know what it does to me darling, seeing you all… buttoned up and hidden away knowing what's under it. Knowing this big tent of a nightie hides the body that makes me cum” he whispered between his harsh kisses down my jaw and neck nibbling with his teeth a little as he tugged at me nightie which was enough for the top of it to get pulled down opening up where the buttons where undone and sitting just off my shoulders “ummm don't tease me” he growled kissing down my neck and now across my exposed chest gently moaning as he did until his hand found the tie of my nightie that would let it drop “there it is.” He gasped 

“No. I need to get back remember’ I told him stopping him from tugging at it 

“I don't recall this conversation” he lied

“Jack I want to stay you know I do but my parents come to look for me and I'm not there all hell will break loose” 

“I know, but…”

“But?”

“You can't just, leave me like this.” He whined “you wound me up so tight last night, you have to let me go, or I might snap” 

“Snap?”

“Humm like last time” he smirked 

“You became some evil little creature” I giggled

“You came here and sucked my dick almost to completion every day for two weeks straight. I'm surprised I didn't crack sooner! You wound me up far to tight darling, I had to let it out somehow.” He smirked “not my fault you wore that little blue dress, you know how good it m akes your … ummmmm” he growled staring at my breasts “and an hour long carriage ride with those things bouncing up and down in that little blue dress, how was I meant to do anything other then what I did”

“Pulling us over and making us two hours late arriving and I lacked a dress”

“You got a new dress didn't you?”

“After my first was torn utterly to shreds” 

“I can't help that you wind me up so much” he smirked his hand moving up to grab my ass “ummm fuck-”

“Jack I have to go, five minutes then I really need to go”

“Five minutes?’ he smirked “one can do an awful lot in five minutes”

“Can you?”

“You know I can” he growled “fine. Five minutes. Which would you rather? Repeating the deplorable conduct of last night, or something quick and loud?”

‘quick”

“Perfect’ he smirked slapping my ass before he pulled me into a heavy kiss till he pulled back ‘you know how this works, be nice and loud for me darling pompous twats in the office today”

“And we're right above him”

‘oh yes we are, so nice and loud for me give him something to be pouty in surgery later” he winked moving down kissing down mt nightie till he met my hips where he quickly grabbed my thighs and forced them apart, he didn't waste a second kissing my inner thigh until he my clit, which he clamped on to and sucked only breaking to kiss and lick leaving me an utter moaning mess gripping the pillow tightly I didn't hold back letting my moans and squeals fall from my lips reacting to his every tongue flick 

“Uhhhhh! Jack please -” I gasped knowing how close I was and already knowing five minutes was out the window I couldn't make him stop not now and even if I asked I doubt he would 

“What's the matter darling? This not despicable enough for you?” He growled before slipping his fingers inside me as he ate me out causing my thighs to clamp on his head and my hand to grab his hair tugging on his hair like crazy 

“Ahhhhhhhhh! Uhhh- jack- please - please!” I begged and he obliged speeding both up which was enough to tip me over “Uhhhh yes! Yes! YES! AHHHHHHH!” I squealed feeling pleasured wash over me he let me ride it out before he pulled back and loomed over me with an amused smile as he saw me sweaty, gasping my breasts almost popped out my nightie, the hem around my stomach, my legs still open and my juices leaking out of me onto his bed he slowly licked his fingers clean then wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and then licking that up too 

“Why do you do that?’ I giggled as he got himself a drink of water from the side 

“Why would I wanna waste what tastes so good,” he smirked before he moved to sit on his knees leaning his back against the metal footboard of the bed he opened his knees wide and leant his elbows on the metal frame for the first time this morning I saw his fully naked form seeing just how hard he was “my turn” he smirked 

And I giggled moving to my knees fixing my nightie to expose more of me and crawling over to him 

[helaelaemond]

To Take Pleasure

Pairing: Osferth x female reader

Word count: 2.1k

Summary: You share a lazy and passionate morning with Osferth. Oneshot pwp, established relationship.

Content warning(s): light edging, mild elements of very soft dom!Osferth, mentions of faith

Rating: E

Requests open

tagging: @sylas-the-grim / @myfandomprompts / @arcielee

small note: thank you so much for the encouragement and kind words on my last Osferth piece, it honestly means the world to me, thank you so so so so much. I read every tag and comment multiple times giggling and kicking my feet!

The morning is quiet. It is raining outside and the noise of it is comforting. It feels like home. Inside the bed chamber, only two creatures move. In the small bedroom, atop the warm bed, Oseferth winds his hand into your hair.

You lay under him and your whole body moves with the rhythm of your coupling. One leg is pulled up at your side on the firm mattress, allowing him to fill you from behind. He lays atop you, his back arched, and thrusts into you at a steady pace. Osferth gently pulls on your hair, and you lift your head up with a quiet moan.

“Oh, my lady,” he whispers against your ear. “Yes, just like that.”

You sigh and grind your hips against the bed in time with his movements. “Touch me,” you breathe.

“Aren’t I touching you enough?” he asks with a smile, and to illustrate his point, he lets go of your hair and runs a flat palm down your side.

Laughter catches in your throat and turns into another sigh of delight when he presses his hand under your chest and teases your nipple between his fingers. “Not there.”

His lips are still at your ear. “Tell me where, my lady. I’d like to hear you say it.”

When Osferth slows his movements to an intolerably slow pace, you swear quietly. “You know where I want you.” You drop your weight onto the bed and turn your head to the side, but it isn’t enough to see him. Your breathing begins to calm in this moment of respite.

“I do.” Osferth pulls out of you carefully and rests his cock on the crease of your backside. He is slick from you, and he moves against you. It makes his eyes roll back. “But I want this to last longer. You’re too close for that.”

You bite your lip. You prop yourself up on your forearms, and you raise your hips in an invitation. Osferth rises to his knees behind you and slips himself along your cunt. You both make noises of approval when his tip glides over your clit. Reaching between your legs, you press him between your folds and run his tip in circles where you want him. The tension in your lower stomach grows, and there are noises in the back of your throat with every breath.

“Easy, love,” Osferth soothes with a smile. Your pleasure is enough to have him crashing, but he means what he said. He wants it to last longer.

You let him go with a sigh.

“Are you ready?” he asks as he guides himself back to your entrance. He presses gently.

You whimper and nod, and you reach back a hand to find him. He weaves your fingers together and slides back inside you. “Oh God,” Osferth swears. The delight of it forces his eyes shut. “You feel so wonderful, my love. Oh, yes, you’re so good.”

You push yourself up, so you're both kneeling, his chest at your back, and you wind the hand you hold around you until his arm embraces you tightly. “Please don’t stop again,” you beg between gasping moans. “I’ll die!”

He chuckles, and the noise is broken by his own moans. “Then I won’t. Oh, love.”

With one hand still in yours, Osferth runs the other up to your neck, and he carefully grasps it, and he turns your head until he can kiss you. You part your lips eagerly, and you swallow his noises of delight and run your tongue over his as you fuck.

“Touch me,” you beg after a while. The only noises that sing above the rain outside are that of your coupling that has become more desperate. “Please, Osferth! I’m so close.”

He slams into you once, twice more, and suddenly pulls out from you with a groan. You fall forward onto the bed with a shout of frustration, and Osferth flips you onto your back before you can find release with your own hand. He drags you until your legs hang off the side of the bed, and then he is on his knees in front of you and his tongue is trailing up the inside of your thigh. “Don’t misbehave,” he tells you with a chuckle.

The frustration of your denied orgasm has your muscles tensing and releasing, and tears prick your eyes. But you like this game. You ask for it. You fling your arm over your eyes and nod, thighs twitching.

Osferth kisses up to your hip and then back down to your cunt, where he tastes the salt that has pooled to welcome him. He glances up at you and raises his head as he smiles. “My good lady.”

"My good Osferth." Your reply is strained, but it makes your heart leap to see how brightly it makes him smile. You run your fingers through his hair, and when you gently press the back of his head, he follows where you lead. His soft lips press between your legs and you sigh.

It makes your toes curl as he licks a long line from your clit down to your entrance; he uses the flat of his tongue to apply pressure, before ghosting the tip against you again and again. You hear his quiet gasp of need, and it's followed by the sensation of his tongue pressing inside you. He keeps his lips over his teeth as his tongue sinks deeper, and surely he can feel your heartbeat against his chin. On his tongue, you feel yourself getting fucked. He tilts his sharp jaw up, and you grind down to meet him, and there, yes, there, his pretty nose catches your clit.

"Fuck!" The word escapes you before you can stop it. Osferth is not one to use profane language. But he does not seem to be one to take a woman on his tongue, yet here he is.

Your legs press against his ears, and you manage to look down to see how proudly he wears your thighs as his crown. A bastard son of a king, looking so pretty, anointed by your cunt on his lips. His tongue is firmer now, and he presses it over your slit and to your clit. It makes your back arch. It makes your head thrash from side to side. He's good, he's so good to you, it makes you feel holy-

"You're perfect," you whine between gasps and moans. "Look at me!"

Without needing to ask twice, his eyes open and burn into you. He beholds you as he devours you, eyes round and blue, worshipful. Your brow furrows as pleasure mounts and mounts, and your mouth opens in laughter and delight. "Don't stop!"

Suddenly he's sucking around you and humming lowly, and it's almost enough to push you over the edge.

"Don't stop, don't stop, don't-!"

And he does. Just as he brings you to the brink, he pulls off you with a pop, his mouth wet and cheeks and chin glistening. It makes you twist and turn in frustration, and your eyes stream in frustration.

"Fuck you!"

He chuckles lowly and lies on top of you, his whole weight pressing you into the little bed. "This is what you asked for," he reminds you. Your legs are clamped shut under him, and so you can feel his hard cock, hot and throbbing, trapped between his stomach and yours.

You look up at him with watering eyes and defiance. But his expression is so soft and sweet, so delighted, that it soothes you. After a moment, you return his smile, although you can't stop yourself from whining slightly with every breath. "I did. You're right. But please... I need you."

"You have me, my lady."

In this brief pause, tenderness mingles with absolute desire, and you can see the deep affection he holds for you. You kiss him, and he welcomes your hungry tongue into his mouth with a strong hand on your cheek. There is a warm wetness against your stomach. He's so wound up for you, he's leaking and desperate. But he has more composure than you - he always does.

"Finish me," you beg against his lips. "Finish us."

Your words make him groan. He runs his hand from your cheek and down your side, squeezing your waist. "Onto your side, my lady."

He lifts himself up from the bed and watches you do as he asks, and then he settles behind you. Your back presses against his chest, and your head drops to the side when he kisses your neck adoringly. With a sure touch, he hooks his hand under the back of your knee, and he lifts it to give him the room to slide back inside of you.

"Ah, my lady." He moans against your ear as he finds himself home in you again. You like it when he moans. You told him this once, and it took him a while to get used to. It took practice. But now, although it's quiet, he gives you those noises. His mouth is against your ear, and his sighs and grunts and moans fill your senses. Between your legs, his cock fills you, too.

He winds his arm further around your leg to keep it lifted as his fingers touch your cunt again. They ghost over where your bodies join, and they catch your wetness and rub firm circles over your clit.

"Yes," you whine. "There."

The bed creaks under you as his pace quickens. The noises of his skin slapping against yours are obscene, and the groans of your name from Osferth mingle with them. He groans your name again and again like a prayer, like it's sacred. To him, perhaps it is. To him, you are sacred.

You fling your hand back to press against his slender hip as together, you climb higher and higher, and he reaches his peak first. He presses his cheek against yours where you lay, and the gesture itself feels as intimate as anything else you have shared. His whole body tightens closer to yours as his hips stutter and his eyes roll back and he pulls out just in time. Against your backside he grinds, and you feel his seed shoot hot up your back. His fingers still work you hard and fast, and as he comes down from his peak, you reach yours.

Your whole body jerks as you finally find your orgasm. Your legs clamp shut around his hand but he doesn't release you - his fingers dig into you and massage you until you whimper and squirm, until finally all the tension is released. His hand remains there, but it stops moving. As your cunt twitches in aftershocks, he holds it firm, keeping you stable, keeping you comfortable.

"Oh, Osferth," you pant. He sighs your name in reply. When your body begins to cool, and you return to yourself a little more, you roll onto your stomach and pull his pillow under your head. Your eyes close in bliss.

He gets up from the bed but returns before you have much of a chance to miss him. You feel him wipe a damp cloth over your back. It makes goosebumps appear on your skin. He always looks after you so well. "Thank you."

A few more moments pass, and then the mattress sinks next to you, and you feel him lie next to you. A gentle touch traces up your spine. He begins drawing shapes on your skin with a single finger. Eyes still closed, you smile. A kiss is pressed against your shoulder. Then, to your neck, and your cheek. Finally, Osferth leaves a tender kiss on your lips.

"You are very dear to me," he murmurs.

Your eyes open slowly, and you meet his blue gaze. "You're very dear to me, too."

He whispers your name, and kisses you gently again. "I didn't know..."

"What, Osferth?"

He mulls his words over before speaking them. He runs his knuckles along your cheek tenderly. "I didn't know that pleasure could feel like this."

"Like what?" you ask, smiling slightly.

"Like holiness."

You glance at his lips. How pretty they look when he whispers, and how pretty they look now as he licks them, waiting nervously for your answer. You can't stop yourself from kissing them before replying. "You make me feel holy, Osferth."

"As you do me." He murmurs your name, and strokes your hair. "I don't want to leave this room. I want to stay with you today."

"Then stay." Your voice is quiet, as sleep is calling you. "Don't leave me. Please don't ever leave me."

He smiles and kisses your cheek. "I'll do my best, my lady. I'll do my best to always be yours."

[reallygroovyninja]

Here's a fluffy prompt. Omega Lexa is sore, cranky, and stressed from her pregnancy so Alpha Clarke decides to take care of Lexa and help her relax

Lexa eased herself onto the couch, a soft groan escaping her lips as she struggled to find a comfortable position. At 32 weeks pregnant, everything felt sore and awkward. She rubbed her swollen belly, feeling the baby kick in response. "I know, little one," she murmured. "We're both ready for this to be over."

Clarke emerged from the kitchen, two mugs of tea in hand. She set them down on the coffee table and sat beside Lexa, her brow furrowed with concern. "Rough day?" she asked, tucking a stray curl behind Lexa's ear.

Lexa leaned into the touch, savoring the moment of tenderness. "I just feel so useless," she admitted. "I can't do anything without getting tired or sore. And I'm scared, Clarke. What if I'm not ready to be a mom?"

Clarke wrapped her arms around Lexa, pulling her close. "Hey, you're not useless. You're growing our baby, and that's the most amazing thing in the world." She pressed a kiss to Lexa's temple. "And you're going to be a fantastic mom. We're in this together, remember?"

Lexa nodded, blinking back tears. "I don't know what I'd do without you."

"Well, you'll never have to find out," Clarke declared. "Now, how about we get you more comfortable? I have an idea."

Clarke led Lexa to their bedroom, where the familiar scent of lavender and clean linen enveloped them. She helped Lexa undress, her fingers lovingly caressing the taut skin of her omega's belly. "Lie down," Clarke instructed, arranging pillows to support Lexa's body.

Lexa sighed as she sank into the mattress, the cool sheets a balm against her skin. Clarke climbed in beside her, a bottle of lavender oil in hand. "Remember when we went to that couples massage class?" she asked, a playful glint in her eye.

Lexa laughed, the sound warm and rich. "How could I forget? You nearly fell off the table trying to copy the instructor."

Clarke grinned, pouring a bit of oil into her palm. "Well, I've been practicing." She rubbed her hands together, the soothing scent of lavender filling the air. "Just relax, baby. Let me take care of you."

Clarke's hands were warm and sure as they glided over Lexa's skin, kneading away the knots and tension. She started at Lexa's shoulders, working down her back with firm, even pressure. Lexa felt herself melting into the mattress, the stress of the day fading away.

As Clarke's hands moved lower, Lexa let out a contented hum. "You're really good at this," she murmured, her words slightly slurred with relaxation.

Clarke chuckled. "I told you, I've been practicing." She leaned down, pressing a kiss to Lexa's back. "I want to be able to do this for you whenever you need it, especially once the baby comes."

Lexa felt a surge of love and gratitude wash over her. She reached for Clarke's hand, lacing their fingers together. "I can't wait to meet our little girl," she whispered. "To see you hold her for the first time."

Clarke squeezed Lexa's hand, her eyes shining with unshed tears. "Me too, baby. Me too."

They stayed like that for a while, Clarke's hands soothing away the aches and pains of pregnancy, Lexa drifting in a haze of contentment. When Clarke finished, she curled around Lexa, one hand resting protectively on her belly.

"Thank you," Lexa murmured, her voice heavy with sleep. "For everything."

Clarke smiled against Lexa's shoulder. "Always," she promised. "I love you, Lexa. More than anything."

[little-miss-dilf-lover]

Hiii sweetheart 💕

for some reason I've having a lot of unholy thoughts of Matty

Okay so hear me out, what if reader tops matt after they got in a fight but matt is being a brat so reader fucks the attitude out of him til the point he cums so hard that he goes into head space and reader helps him out and all fluff in the end.

Alicia baby please do me the honor of writing a fic of this for me and if you do I'll take you out on a date 💋

hiii pumpkin!!!! you’re always having unholy thoughts of matt😏 SO SORRY this has taken so long!!! I guess you now owe me a date🤭 thank you for requesting, hope you like it💌

headspace

Matt Murdock x f reader

wc || 1009

warnings || 18+ only sexually explicit content (what’s in the ask) minors dni

sorry it’s been so long since a matt fic !!

masterlist + rules

taglist

Matt's stubborn, his mind often firmly set on an idea or thought, rarely budging. Always the last one to crack. 

Recently things with Matt have been a little difficult, and frequently it would cause disagreements within your relationship, making your dynamic strenuous. It would always be something so small and petty. Something so minuscule that it would create these full-blown rows. Tiny disagreements that got blown out of proportion.

Even if things resolved, Matt would still be in a foul mood afterwards, a mood that you've grown to know pretty well these past couple of weeks. More often than not, the only way to pry him out of his grumpy and somewhat bratty mood would be the more intimate route.

He wasn't one to be submissive, but during times like these, he failed to turn down your efforts. So now, after another row, he was laid underneath you, his bare back flush to the mattress, his sweat sticking to the sheets as he squirmed in anticipation. 

"Getting desperate, huh?" you playfully patronise, lowering to his ear. "You want me to put you back in?" you whisper, nipping his earlobe with your lips. 

"Just-" he starts, his hands firm on your waist, silently begging and guiding you to put him back in. "Please?" he whispers, his speech broken by a soft groan, desperate for the release you're not allowing him.

"Yeah? Then tell me... tell me how bad you want me. Tell me that you'll get rid of that attitude," you say softly, your tone speckled with tender authority. You linger a delicate kiss on his lips, gently speaking against them as you brush a light finger over his cock, teasing his swollen head, featherlight touch as you circle over his slit. "Tell me what you want, Matt," 

"You," he murmurs, his eyes screwing shut, looking like he was struggling with all the overwhelming sensations. "Please?" he repeats, his cadence more urgent than before, more desperate.

"Soon," you tease, peppering his throat in slow, sloppy kisses, trailing your palm over his achingly hard cock. "Not yet, pretty boy," you smirk into the crook of his neck. "Not yet,"

You couldn't help but love Matt's desperate pleas. How he'd beg and whine for his release made you uncomfortably aroused, his blubbering noises underneath you tested your strength in being dominant. You wanted to give in. You really did. You missed the full-feeling of his cock buried in you, the stretch, the warmth, everything, but you didn't want to crack. He's pissed you off for the last time, and you want to feel the control for once. However, you knew you couldn't play this game for long. You've been edging one another for the last hour now, so your joint release was imminent, practically right there. 

You cave in, taking his throbbing cock in hand, guiding him back to where you desperately need. Inside of you. Slipping him past your slick-coated folds and into you in one swift motion, finally taking him back in, the whole of him back in. You slowly rock over him, leisurely massaging his cock with your walls, dragging yourself over him with every wind of your hips. Teasing him just a bit more.

Matt's breathing grows more strangled, more desperate, his chest rising and falling at a somewhat alarming pace. "You doing okay?" you pant, checking in on him. 

He nods, his eyes screwing shut before his unexpected release. Coating the inside of your pussy in a thick layer of come, his fingers kneading into your thighs as he mutters your name between broken curses. 

"Matt?" you whisper, looking down to notice an unfamiliar expression. Usually post-climax, he'd have a gleeful look on his face, one full of bliss, but not this time. This time, he looked still, blank. "Matt?" you repeat, cupping his cheeks.

He was uncharacteristically quiet, and it scared you. You were always worried for Matt, but not like this. It felt like your fault, like you had hurt him, pushed too far. 

You crawl from his lap, allowing his dick to slip from you as you make your way up the mattress to him, sitting on your knees beside his chest. "Hey Matt?" you try again, opening his eyes with your thumb and index. "Honey?" you whisper, your tone frantic and troubled as you check his pulse.

"Sweetheart?" he says quietly, his eyes darting across the ceiling as he extends his hand, searching for yours. "Where are you?"

"Here, right here," you whisper, squeezing his panicked hand. "What happened- where'd you go?" you ask, your cadence littered with guilt and fear. 

"I don't know," he whispers, clutching over his chest with his spare hand, almost as if he was steadying his heart.

"I'm so sorry- I pushed you too hard. Matt- I'm so so sorry," you ramble, cupping his jaw and brushing your thumb over his cheek. "What can I get you? What do you need- God, I'm so sorry, Matt,"

"It's okay," he reassures, stroking over your hand like he was calming you, soothing you.

"No, Matt. I should be helping you, not-"

"Sweetheart," he interrupts, his words tender yet firm. "See? I'm okay, look. I'm fine," he softly smiles, sitting up from the mattress to pull you towards him. "Please don't beat yourself up, okay?" he whispers, cupping your face before his warm arms wrap around you, tightly embracing you.

"That was so scary," you mumble into the nape of his neck. "I thought I... I thought I killed you,"

He lightly laughs, stroking over your bare lower back. "Could you imagine... death by pussy," he chuckles, humouring his poor attempt at lightening the mood.

You pull away, head tilting to the side, clearing displeased. "Too soon,"

"Sorry, darling," he grins sheepishly, kissing your cheek as he pulls you back to him, flopping you both back and into the mattress. "Please don't worry your pretty little head, sweetheart. I promise I'm okay,"

"I love you," you whisper, draping your arm over his chest as you nuzzle into him.

"I love you."

@hailey-murdock @slasher-sequels-suck @ashlynhasmanyhyperfixations @idontknowwhattohaveasmyuser @redecoratestan @kpopgirlbtssvt @scarletsloveletter @princess-pebbles-things @messymissy @schneeflocky @readerhead @thegreengoop @charmedkim @queerponcho @selfryed

[sassykattery]

Losses and Gains, Pt. 2

It's getting hot in here~

CW: MC is afab, uses she/her pronouns. MC is a demon and poly. *Smut scene: piv, creampie, more romance focused sex. Praise kink.

Themes: Romance. LuciferxMC. Amnesia. Smut. Some angst.

Characters: MC="you", Lucifer

Minors and ageless blogs DNI

18+ only

Enjoy

You couldn't help but look up at him again, the haze of desire clouding your thoughts. "Can you tell me more about you? About... us?" You asked.

Lucifer chuckled again and finally found his seat beside you, an arm slithering around your waist to rest his hand on your hip.

"Well, you and I have quite a bit of history," he stated. "We dated once before and broke it off. After some time, we came back together, and just a couple months ago I proposed to you."

"Why did we break up?" You became quiet.

"I was not good to you. I did not treat you well," he replied with a sigh, knowing you deserved full honesty. "I often took out my jealousy on you or ignored you completely."

"Well, if we're now engaged, then I suppose we ended up working things out, and it's different now, yes?" You asked hopefully. Lucifer smiled and nodded, dipping his head down.

"Indeed, dove," he agreed.

"So now, about you."

"What do you want to know?"

"Tell me something only I would know," you requested.

"Hmm..." he hummed in thought. "That could entail a number of things. You're the only one who knows how to make my coffee. You know when I'm so tired that staying up late to work serves no point, so you're able to take me to bed. You know how to work around my pride when I'm stubborn," he offered to you. His voice lowered, "There's the more intimate things, like you know just how to tease me, get me riled up. You know exactly what to say and do to get me off."

Your blush dusted your cheeks, neck, and chest at his words, and you looked away in embarrassment. "That's what you meant by lots of things," you whispered.

"I also know quite a bit about you, being your first," he whispered into your ear, his warm breath tickling the hairs on your scalp and neck.

"My... first?" You blinked a few times, processing it.

"Mhm," he hummed in reply. "You told me that night that you trusted me, and that I was special to you," he stated.

Sharply, you turned to look at him, burning with arousal.

"And I know when you look at me like that, you want me to take you into my arms and make love to you," he said quietly.

You were silent, just for a moment, trying to decide what to do. Lust won out.

"Please..." you whispered.

"You have to tell me exactly what you want," he said, inching closer. "I don't want you to think I'm taking advantage of you, nor do I want to."

"I want this. I want you," you pleaded. "I want you to make love to me, show me what we have."

"Gladly," Lucifer whispered, dipping down to kiss you softly. His lips felt just a little bit needier now, and you're sure you probably felt the same to him. "Shall I take the lead?" He muttered against your lips.

"Yes."

He climbed back over you, and you shuffled down to lie flat on the mattress, looking up at your presumed lover. You two kissed once more, and you finally felt brave in letting your hands roam his body over his clothes. He was firm and muscular from what you could tell, and it intrigued you to know more. When he started to unbutton your shirt, you watched with wide, nervous eyes.

"You can tell me to stop if you want," he said, seeing your expression, his hand hovering over the last button. You simply shook your head.

Slowly, he opened up your shirt to reveal your bare torso. He moved down, pulling off your lounge pants, and when he returned to pull at your panties, your hand snatched his wrist.

"Sorry!" You replied quickly. "I don't know what's wrong with me."

"I will admit, you weren't quite this shy the first time," Lucifer chuckled. "I think perhaps we should take it a little slower, then," he suggested. Hopping off the bed, he went and locked your door, then he stood before you and slowly stripped away his clothes. Unable to help yourself, you sat up and watched with curiosity, much to his delight.

Once he was only in his underwear, he crawled back into the center of the bed, and then gestured you to come to him. Straddling his lap, you sat back onto your rear on his thighs. He brushed your shirt off your shoulders, helping you out of it and tossing it onto the floor.

"We can stay like this until you're comfortable," he stated, brushing your hair out of your face.

"You're very... patient," you observed. He chuckled at your response.

"I learned at one point in our relationship, pushing you into things you didn't want to do or weren't ready for was not in my best interest," he recalled.

"That's wise," you agreed.

His hands purchased your plush hips, thumbing over your soft skin. In return, your hands rested on his chest, feeling his firm muscles.

"Why are you attracted to me?" You asked suddenly and bluntly.

Lucifer's brows furrowed at your question. "Never once have you asked me that," he said.

"Really?" He nodded. "I suppose... I'm just curious. If I was a human and caused that much trouble in my first year, I would assume you'd be repulsed by me," you said.

"Repulsed?" He sounded offended. "No, even when you first came here, I found you rather intriguing, pleasing to look at. However, I wasn't going to allow myself to fall for someone that I'd end up losing in such a short time." He looked away. "I was the reason we lost out on a lot of time together. I am regretful of those actions, but I can't change them."

Your eyes widened. "Oh? Were you afraid of intimacy and being vulnerable with me?" You blurted out.

Lucifer stiffened at your question, not entirely fond of your current boldness, but it couldn't be helped, in his mind. "It's possible," he replied, slightly stubborn.

"I also asked my prior question because..." you trailed off, looking at his torso. There was some strange part of you that caused your brain to diverge into two thoughts. One said that you could finish the question, the other said it was preposterous, and you don't have to worry about such things. It felt as though someone placed a zipper on your mouth until you could work your way around one or both issues.

"What you're feeling is your sin," he stated, watching you have an internal confliction, feeling the sinful energy radiating off of you. "I assume you were going to say something about our appearances." You nodded. "My darling, as I said, the moment you arrived here in the Devildom, I struggled to keep myself under control around you. In every moment we were alone, all I could think about was the one hundred thousand ways I'd have you if you'd let me."

His hands left your hips and began to wander up and down your form, drinking you in. He gently kneaded the rolls, curves, valleys, and peaks of your body. "All of this is quite special, and I would be sorely remiss if I didn't make sure you knew that," he murmured. Sitting up, he kissed your lips again, and you finally melted into him.

"I love you dearly," he muttered against your lips. "And I'll remind you every day of it."

"Lucifer," you whined quietly.

He pulled away to look at you again.

"You... can have all of me," you whispered.

"Are you sure?"

"I'd like to try," you replied.

*He pulled your hips forward, your knees now on either side of his hips, and gently he pushed you onto your back. His hands found yours, bringing them up to rest on either side of your head and interlacing his fingers with yours. Your lips met with his again, this time a bit more feverish and needy. Both your bodies began to rub and grind against one another, feeling your mutual heats rising.

Abandoning your hands, he sat up, putting your legs on his shoulders as he slipped your panties off. He carefully laid your legs back, nestling himself in between them. Planting kisses along your jaw and neck, he had you mewling just as he knew how to, but to you it was foreign, yet there was no denying everything he did felt right, felt good.

Your hands wandered down his back, feeling more of his smooth skin and rippling muscles as he moved against you. But you merely felt teased, so you whimpered out, "Lucifer."

"Mm?" he hummed in reply.

"I need more."

"Tell me what you need, and I'll give it to you," he replied against the crook of your neck.

"I... I need you inside me," you whispered. You felt his lips upturn against your skin. "I need to feel more of you"

"With pleasure," he groaned. He shuffled his underwear off, and feeling brave you looked, to be met with the most gorgeous and large cock, and sharply inhaled.

His eyes locked with yours. "Sorry... I just... How are you so perfect?" You murmured, embarrassed.

"Mm, I do rather like hearing that," he replied lustfully. Between planting kisses on your chest, he continued, "Though, I must admit, it's you who looks like you were sculpted so magnificently, it'd make even the holiest beings weep in your presence." He did nothing to help your flushed state, nor was he going to.

His lips met yours once more. One of his arms slid under your back to hold you closer, and his other hand sought your thigh, holding it up around his hip. "Are you ready?" he asked against your lips, now his breathing was shallow, and he twitched with anticipation.

"I'm ready," you murmured.

As soon as you felt his cock prodding at your entrance, you gasped again. Though you were nervous, you were equally curious and ready to explore, wishing to feel what it was that you had felt before, what it was that bonded you to this demon above you.

Gently, he slid in, hissing at the sensation. A strangled moan left your lips, and it only drove both of you to feel even needier for one another. Instinctively, your hips bucked up, drawing more of him inside your aching walls.

"Ahh, Lucifer," you called out to him.

"I'm here, I've got you, dove," he replied, his forehead pressed against yours.

It felt like ages before he stopped moving, fully sheathed inside you. He began placing kisses and hickies along your chest and collarbone, to which your back arched into his mouth, aching for more.

"So perfect," he said to you, speaking between kisses. "So beautiful. All of you is just so delicious, and you're all mine."

Your body was set alight by his words and you gasped at how wet you felt by it.

"Mm, you do love it when I praise you," he informed you, looking up at you again. You watched in wonder.

"You're so adorable, looking at me like that. It was the same the first couple times we did this. What are you thinking?"

"You're just so... flawless and handsome, I can't believe you're mine. It's like you're exactly who I've always wanted," you replied breathlessly.

Now it was his turn for his cheeks to feel aflamed by your words, stiffening as his whole body coursed with pride. He smirked and came close to your mouth again.

"Mm, I feel the same. I've never wanted anything or anyone as badly as I've wanted you. I'll never again love someone as I have loved you."

Your arms looped around his neck, pulling him flush against you. With a slight roll of your hips, you moaned, telling him what you wanted. He smiled and kissed you sweetly. He gave a few slow, long thrusts, causing you to give breathy quiet moans. It was delicious, how his cock filled you up, and it only drove you further off the shores of reality with each graze of his cock against your clenching walls.

"Darling," he groaned. "You're so tight. You feel so good on my cock like this. Is this what you wanted?"

"It feels so good," you whined in reply, tears pricking the corners of your eyes. It was immensely pleasurable, and you wondered if it was always this good. "I was hoping my body would remember yours."

He pulled back to look at you, looking skeptical. "And?"

"It still feels brand new to me, but I trust you," you replied quietly.

Lucifer nodded and buried his face in your neck. His ministrations against your skin heightened your arousal, and your legs tightened around his, keeping him locked against you. Truly, you felt different to him as well, your maneuvers no longer the same and you moved as though you didn't know what you were doing. There was a hesitance in the way you touched him, like you didn't do this a hundred times before with him. Still, if there was any hope that you could remember, he'd hang on to it.

"Lucifer, I– oh please," you whimpered, feeling a tightening sensation in your abdomen.

"Talk to me, dove, tell me what you're feeling," he muttered to you.

"I-I feel... Oh no–" you tried to say. The tightening of your internal coil was too much, and it caused you to start squirming. He pulled away to look up at you, knowing what was happening.

"It's alright, dove, just let go. I've got you," he purred, and then lowered himself to your ear. "I'm here, you're safe with me. Just let go. Let me make you feel so good."

Your eyes flew open at his words, and a sharp gasp escaped your lips as the coils snapped. Heat traveled down your legs, your toes curled, and the crushing weight of your orgasm caused your chest to tighten.

"Lucifer!" You called out to him, squeezing his shoulders as your eyes screwed shut.

"That's it, darling, cum on me. I– oh fuck that feels good," he moaned as your walls tightened down on cock, milking him like it was the last thing you'd ever do.

"Don't stop," you cried, rocking your hips into your blissful pleasure, soaking up as much as you could of how amazing it felt.

Unable to hold back anymore, he railed into you, speeding up his thrusts to chase his own bliss as he watched you come undone beneath him. Your mindless screams of pleasure filled the room, and it drove him well-past the point of no return.

"MC," he grunted, holding onto you tightly as he gave a last few haphazard thrusts into you before stilling, tensing up as he filled you to the brim with all of him.

It was quiet again, the sounds of your panting the only noise either of you heard. After a couple moments, Lucifer pushed himself up to look at you.

*"Are you alright?" He asked softly.

Through exhausted, half-lidded eyes, you nodded. "I'm-I'm fine."

He leaned down and placed a tender kiss on your forehead before withdrawing from you and lying beside you, on his side to face you. You rolled over and started to reach out but hesitated.

"What?" He asked.

"I feel like I want to... cuddle with you?" You said in more of a question than a statement.

Lucifer chuckled. "That hasn't changed at least. Come here," he said. pulling you into his body. With some confidence, you curled up into his form, snuggling your head into his chest. He kissed the top of your head and relaxed.

"I missed this," Lucifer muttered to himself.

It was hard, in a way, for Lucifer. You were you, there wasn't a doubt about it, but there was something to be said for how conflicted he felt about you in this moment. You two had been through so much in your time together, and in an instant, it was all gone, and just hours ago you were shouting at him, terrified that he was going to hurt you.

I will fix this, he thought to himself. I refuse for you to never remember everything we've been through. Tears pricked his eyes, at the thought you'd never remember him proposing to you, or when you accepted him back into your life, or the first time he told you he loved you. There were too many other important life moments you needed to know about, because at the end of it all, our memories are all we have. Without our memories, without knowing our gains are losses, what are we? Shells of animals that only live to survive? Our memories give us so much, and without them, how are we to know we lived a full life?

---

Thanks for reading! <3

Post made by sassykattery. Do not repost. Reblogs and comments appreciated.

Tags: @delphi-dreamin @bite-sized-devil @itsmeninerz @themythicaldisaster @flemmingbamse @marvelous-maniac @dajitm @bontensbabygirl @obeymediasimp @frozengoldie

[coffeeghoulie]

Kinktober Day #22: Sexting

The Ghostober prompts were put together by @kroas-adtam, and divider made by @gothdaddyissues, thank you both so much!

Pairing: Swiss/Dew

Summary: Dew and Swiss's teams play on opposite sides of the country, but that won't stop them from getting up to their usual antics.

Takes place in a scene mentioned in chapter four of Five Minutes for Fighting, but if you don't want to read a 15k fic right now, Swiss and Dew are on opposing hockey teams and speedrunning an enemies to lovers arc. They're about 75% of the way there in this fic. I wasn't comfortable enough writing smut to write this scene out when I posted that chapter, but I am now. Tada!

Contains mutual masturbation, phone sex, and two idiots pining for each other.

Tagging @forlorn-crows, @nocturnalghoul, @askingforthesun, and @highdefinitions for hockey ghoul reasons <3 and a special thank you to @highdefinitions for helping me with Swiss's team's name.

Read under the cut or on AO3!

Dew flops down on the hotel mattress, a bit too firm for his taste, and grabs his phone off of the nightstand. In the time it took for him to wash the sweat from his hair and change into comfortable clothing, he's gotten a new message.

S: Saw the highlights from the Ghouls game tonight. A lot of those clips were you.

Dew preens, even though he knows the other man's just trying to butter him up. He did play well. When he really applies himself, when he gets in the zone, when he's not picking fights with Swiss for fun, he's one of the top scorers on the roster.

He runs through the game schedules in his mind, trying to remember the next time the Popestars, Swiss's team, and the Ghouls play. It's not for a couple of weeks, but Dew does remember that the Popestars were scheduled to play the Holy Hitters a few hours prior. Dew opens his phone, starts texting back.

D: Didn't you skate tonight? When the fuck did you have time to watch Ghouls highlights?

S: At the hotel now. You took some big hits tonight, spitfire

Dew groans at the reminder, sore ribs and shoulder lighting up. He had been checked pretty good, slammed into the plexiglass by defensemen almost twice his size trying to steal the puck away from him.

S: Got me all worked up, watching you get tossed around like a ragdoll.

D:Real subtle. You don't want to praise me for my good game, you just want to burn off that adrenaline.

S: So? What's the difference between me texting you and me railing your ass in your locker room shower?

Dew groans, even as his cock twitches in interest at the memories. He palms at himself through his sweatpants.

D: The difference is that you're on the other side of the fucking country and can't actually fuck me.

Dew can almost hear Swiss's chuckle as the text bubble pops up.

S: Oh, so you wouldn't mind if I texted you what I'd want us to be doing if we were in the same timezone?

Dew takes a deep breath through his nose, hair fanned out under his head. He presses the heel of his hand harder into his dick, groaning.

D: Fine. Yes. What would you want?

Dew turns his head to groan into the pillows as he palms himself, reading Swiss's reply.

S: I keep thinking about the night you snuck into my hotel room, the night your captain really fucked me up? The first night I got to have you in an actual bed. I want to do that again. Really take my time with you.

Dew fumbles one handed with the drawstrings on his sweatpants, texting back with his dominant hand. He pushes his hand down his sweats and boxers, palming himself with a groan.

D: You wanna take me apart again? You gonna be real sweet about it, like you were then, or do you want to push me around like in the showers?

S: I was thinking about how easy it would be to manhandle you, take you how I want. I know it's a bit of a sore point, but you're so much smaller than me. My hands nearly wrap all the way around your waist, spitfire. It makes you quick and hard to hit on the ice, but fuck, if it doesn't get me going. Wanna hold you down and make you take it.

Dew groans loudly. wrapping his hand around himself properly, his length beginning to spit precum. He shoves his sweats and underwear down, freeing himself, giving himself more room to work.

D: Yeah? you gonna make me take it rough, split me open on you? You want me to fight back or take it nice?

S: I don't think it was gonna be rough. Sure that's how we started, but I liked being sweet on you, making you feel good.

Even though there's no one there to see him blush, Dew turns his face into the pillows and whines, high and feminine. He steels himself and scowls, typing frantically.

D: Fucking sap.

S: You liked it. You were the one who asked to take our time to begin with.

D: Fine. You caught me.

S: I'm calling you. Pick up.

Dew freezes as his phone rings, blaring the Popestars' goal song. It had been a funny joke, assigning that song to Swiss's contact, but he's pavloved himself on the ice when they play against each other. He wants to hear it more than he wants Mountain to make the save.

He picks up, and the warm sound of Swiss's voice filters through, a little tinny from the speakers. "Hey, spitfire," he groans, and Dew's stomach flips as he hears the wet noise of Swiss touching himself.

"You get started without me?" Dew says, trying and failing to mock him.

Swiss laughs, the sound fading into a low groan. "You can't tell me you haven't started. I know how flustered you get when I talk dirty, spitfire."

Dew rolls his eyes, grateful Swiss can't actually see it. He presses the heel of his hand into his dick, biting back the resulting groan. "Yeah, and what about it?"

"You blush so pretty," Swiss says, and Dew can picture him, sprawled out on his hotel bed over the covers, his dirty clothes strewn in a pile on the bathroom floor, one hand wrapped around his cock, the other pressing his phone to his ear. "You turn cherry red from the tips of your ears all the way down to your nipples, makes your piercings really stand out. You know your dick turns the same color when you start to drip?"

Dew can't bite back his whimper, and he curses himself as he hears Swiss's hand falter on himself. "Shut up," he whines.

Swiss chuckles, and Dew privately, secretly, wishes he could record the sound, replay it whenever he wants. "You don't want me to shut up, spitfire. You want me to keep talking so you can get off to it."

Dew sets the phone down next to him on speaker, biting the heel of his hand hard as he starts jerking himself off again. "What- what about it?" He pants, trying to keep his cool as Swiss's voice makes his dick twitch.

"It's okay, spitfire, I know what gets you off, want to make you feel good even though I can't do it myself," Swiss coos, voice slightly tinny. "Jerk yourself off for me, want to hear how good you feel."

Dew can't help but obey, rubbing his thumb against the tip of his dick, watching fascinated as it drips precum down his shaft, easing the way for his hand. He knows there's a travel size bottle of lube in his go bag, but he can't be damned to get up and get it. He doesn't want to leave his phone behind, even though it's on speaker and he'll still be able to hear.

"Swiss," he whispers, scared one of his teammates will be able to hear on the other side of the wall, even though he's safe behind soundproof hotel walls. "Swiss, fuck, please."

"Yeah, spitfire?" Swiss replies, sounding entirely too collected as he strokes himself vigorously on the other line. "Tell me what you want."

"Wanna be with you, want it to be your hand on me, want to get my hands on you," Dew whispers, face hot and eyes squeezed shut as Swiss makes him describe his desires. He strokes himself faster, reaching down with his free hand to pull at his piercings. He keens, and he can hear Swiss's responding groan, the wet noises from the other end speeding up.

"Want to get my mouth on you again, spitfire," Swiss groans, and Dew speeds his own strokes up to match Swiss's pace. Swiss only lets the pleasure affect him when he's close, and Dew doesn't want to be too far behind when he cums. "You tasted so good, such a sweet mouthful for me."

Dew sobs, cock kicking in his hand as he pinches his nipple hard, pebbling the pink flesh. "Close," he whines, jerking himself off furiously, his cock weeping precum.

"Yeah, spitfire, baby?" Swiss moans. "You gonna cum for me? So far away from you but I'm still gonna make you cum, spitfire."

"Yeah, you are. Fuck," Dew whines, muffling the sound into his hand.

"Hand off of your mouth, baby. Need to hear it, Dew, need it so bad. Need you so bad," Swiss whines, and Dew can hear his breath hitch as his hand speeds up. "Gonna cum for you, princess, gonna make a mess just for you."

"Do it," Dew pants, "I'm gonna cum, Swiss, please cum with me."

Swiss shouts wordlessly, and the slightly-warped noise is all it takes to send Dew flying over the edge himself. He shoots ropes of hot, pearly cum over his knuckles, pooling in his happy trail, wailing the whole time he works himself through it.

"Good boy," Swiss groans, and Dew's seen him in the aftermath enough times to picture his face in perfect clarity, brows furrowed, eyes shut tight, chest heaving as he breathes heavily through his nose. The mental image is enough to make his dick kick valiantly between his legs, but he ignores it, still floating on the high.

"Fuck me, Swiss," Dew laughs, trying to catch his breath. "I just got out of the shower. Wouldn't have washed up if I knew you were just gonna make me make a mess again."

Swiss chuckles on the other end. He hears the rustle of him running a hand over his curls. "You wanna send me a picture, spitfire? I'd like to save that for later."

Dew groans, tilting his head back into the pillows. "Fuck, Swiss, you can't just say that."

"Well, I did," Swiss laughs, but Dew can still hear his heavy breathing. "How about this, you send me a picture of your mess, I'll send you one of mine. Deal?"

Dew moans at the thought, his cum still dripping from his fingers. "Yeah, I'll do it, give me a minute."

"No rush," Swiss says, voice evening out. "Just wanna see what I do to you. Bet you look real pretty, spitfire. It's a shame they're not my bruises on that pretty body."

"Possessive," Dew laughs, chest still heaving. "Give it a couple weeks, you can bruise me up all you want. Make me bleed, even."

There's a long silence, and Dew's suddenly unsure of the words he's just said.

"I don't think I want to make you bleed anymore, Dew," Swiss says, something strange in his tone. "Bruises, marks, sure. I don't think I want you to bleed."

"Huh," Dew says eloquently. "Okay. No bleeding, then. We can work with that."

Swiss sighs, and Dew can imagine him nodding. "Alright. I do mean it, Dew. You played well tonight."

"Thank you," Dew whispers. "I'll look for your highlights after I shower. After the picture, I mean."

Swiss chuckles. "Tonight wasn't my best game," he admits. "I didn't play nearly as well as you did, spitfire."

Dew cackles, wiping the sweat from his forehead with his clean hand. "I'll be the judge of that, Swiss. We play again in what, three weeks?"

"Yeah, think so," Swiss says.

"Think I'm gonna let you go in a bit," Dew says, hesitantly, trying not to show how clingy he wants to be. "I'll get you that picture, and then I'm going to run up this hotel's hot water bill. Got a bus ride in the morning and I hate sleeping on the bus. I'll see you at the next game?"

"Yeah, spitfire," Swiss says fondly, and his voice almost feels almost like a caress against his hot cheek. "I'll see you at the next game."

There will be no next game. Swiss gets traded to the Ghouls a week from this moment, but neither of them know that yet. How could they? For now, they bask in the afterglow, listening to each other breathe thousands of miles apart.

[bitchlessdino]

TPC: Seokmin's professional party hosting

Full series

Pairing: boyfie!seokmin x afab!reader

Genre: smut

Word count: 2.2k

tags: mentions of alcohol, reader with breasts, fondling of breasts, massages, neck kisses, face sitting, oral

Summary: A party host's work is never done, even with seokmin's help, and trust me, he's helping a lot.

author note: wrote this horny and on my period i need sex read bad

@iwouldbangchan @1uvlywon @just-here-to-read-01 @candidupped @minnie-mouser22

“Where the hell is Joshua with the beer? He should’ve been here an hour ago!”

You knew better than to trust your friend that admitted to going to a party the previous night before, but Joshua couldn’t have been this stupid. Oh, but he was.

It was a party, no big deal right? Wrong.

It was your party and you were hosting it along with your boyfriend and sibling who left to god knows where. You wanted to prove to other people and yourself that you can be more than a boring college student stuck in the history section of the library (but in your defense what was wrong with that if you were)? Fuck the one demensional mindset of the common college tropes that only really exist in YA novels and poorly written fanfiction.

You expel a frustrated breath out of your lungs and chug the cola in your solo cup, completely emptying it out to pour yourself another full one. Seokmin comes to your side reassuringly, taking care of his significant before they have a complete public freak out when things aren’t going their way by taking your non-cola-chugging hand and stroking the back of it with his thumb. If he could, he’d plan the event all by himself to spare you the unnecessary stress and elevated blood pressure but knowing you, you’d never let him.

“Everything is and will be fine. We still have a couple of cases ‘borrowed’ from Seungcheol’s party yesterday, and everyone is enjoying themselves. Let’s just do the same.”

Easy for him to say. Seokmin could have a good time anywhere. He was the light of every goddamn public event. Bouncing around every corner of every room like a golden retriever yoga ball concoction. You were the complete opposite, pessimistic at every given point, while he exuded a happy easy-going spirit. Maybe that’s why you like him so much. He makes things easy, or at least sounded easy, that you convinced yourself with him around it’d be just that. 

Unlikely because now you were scanning the room for any faces of resentment, broken furniture, and possibly Joshua at the front door with that goddamn beer already. You’re grumbling to yourself thinking maybe you should’ve assigned all the tasks to yourself, at least you can promise yourself you’d get it done. Some things were better off done by yourself, you’d say. Never trust a dumb frat boy to get party supplies, you remind yourself. They’re only thinking of themselves. He better be caught in a ditch somewhere or you’ll have his guitar-playing head ass on a stick.

You were not the only one to hear your bitter ramble amongst the unaware 20-something crowd and he’s forced to tug you away from the center of the room. You take notice and nudge back at him in annoyed confusion, quietly protesting in whispers, not trying to cause a scene, “Seokmin, what–”

“I’m getting you out of there you need a break.”

The clusters of party guests become a blur as he pushes past several shoulders and reaches your room at the end of a sparse hallway. The moment the door opens it’s shut once it’s clear you're alone in the comfort of your thoughts. Seokmin exhales in relief, padding away to your bed where he pushes you down in a sitting position.

You shut your eyes, running your brows in a furrow, and dramatically sighing for him to understand the predicament he’s putting you in. “Why are we here? We’re hosting remember?”

He takes a seat beside you, pulling you closer to the center of the mattress, and places himself behind you, hands coming down on your shoulders in a firm yet reassuring squeeze. “Just take a breather, you need this.”

“Should I? Every second I’m in here, it’s every second I’m not out there. Who knows what kind of shit could they be…” you sputter a breath of numbingly good relief as Seokmin worked in your knots, the balls of his palms digging to your back as if he’s kneading dough, “fucking…up…”

“That’s right, relax. That’s what I’m here for.” He presses kisses against the apples of your cheeks and slowly, sweetly trails down to the base of your neck. “Clear…your…mind.”

His kiss leaves a hot trail of awareness on every patch of skin he makes contact with. Your head falls back in savoring it, a low hum vibrating throughout your throat and leaking out the small crack of your lips. Your eyes shuttering to a close and your shoulders slumping, you focus on the warmth Seokmin radiates onto you that only enhances the relief he’s spreading to your sore, tired limbs. You nod your head in a daze, physically melting into a puddle.

“Mmm, better?”

You hum in confirmation, feeling more than just your muscles loosen. Your once clenched legs part from one another and you feel the threat of your arousal as it makes it past your folds, staining your underwear. You would stop him at this point before it went too far knowing about the hordes of people behind that very door, but his hands felt magical, and in no way did you want it to end.

“Mmm, Seokmin…”

The kind man smiles against your skin, letting his teeth graze your neck and let his hands fall to roam against your sides, still placing pressure, digging his digits hard into your flesh. His teeth climb up and up, reaching your ear lobe, a exhale leaving his nostrils that pebble goosebumps on your arms and neck. “You’ve worked so hard for weeks. You need a reminder that you should be enjoying this party too.”

You gasp as his tongue licks a patch of skin and his hands come together up the front of your chest, handfuls of your breasts in his hands with the fabric of your clothes and bra as a barrier. His deep chuckles burn your skin, collecting you in his heavy-handed grasp, collecting bundles of your flesh like he means to massage the entirety of your body. No inch of your body would go untouched. “Shouldn’t we be outside for that to work…?”

You were aware you were slurring your words, but Seokmin being the expert easily translates the jumble in his head and he pressed his firm chest deeper against your back to the point to can trace the outline of every nipple, every pec, every muscle packed ab in the lean yet toned fixture of his torso. “I can’t be in public for what’s about to transpire in this bedroom unless that’s what you’re looking forward to?”

“Seokmin!” you exclaim, turning your head but he captures his lips the moment you do, swallowing the moan that impulsively escapes you. He pushes you into the cushion of the sheets and freely holds you, embraces you, and touches you, anywhere he wanted to.

He licks your bottom lip, squeezing it between his lips, and with squeeze the cups the curve of your ass, and he’s able to taste the coke zero you decided to drink instead of alcohol on your tongue. Your fingers curl up his hair, panting against his mouth, deepening the kiss as his hips meet yours in a blind horny haze.

“Should I make you relax? Should I do the thing you like?”

You whimper hearing his offer and your sex-filled head soars great heights at thought of it. The dark shift of his eyes, his hair was a sexy ragged mess, and his arms–god his arms–bulging as they flex in view. The image had you grinding up into his erection, your back coming up in a perfect arch, and before your logical tendencies came up, you’re whispering anguished, “Yes, god yes…”

He smiles again, now only more sinister, “Alright. Come on. Sit on my face.”

You jump up on your knees gingerly and watch as he gets into a relaxed position. Meanwhile, your hands are finding the clasp of your pants, tugging them off of you with your underwear quick to follow. You move over to him, taking short excited breaths before one knee meets the other side of his head. You glisten a gorgeous sheen, one that’d glossy, vicious, knowingly delectable in his mouth. Seokmin sighs in contentment, licking at his lips in anticipation.

“I’ll never get over how pretty you look with your pussy right in my face.”

You hold up your flustered cheeks in your hands, shutting your eyes as you internally squeal.

“Don’t do that. Your face is part of the view.”

A loud pound to your chest. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be. Now come here.”

You let your hips fall naturally, hovering over his mouth, meeting your hot, wet slit as he steady your thighs with his reliable hands. His eyes stay open as they lock with yours, ensuring you watch as he engulfs in your scent, your taste, your god-gifted warmth that you have bestowed upon him that makes him feel like he’s on top of god damn fucking world. Your folds hug his wet, pink muscle, and you could feel yourself already squirm as he makes his rounds, sweeping it over inside and outside every sensitive part of your core.

His name is delicious in your mouth, drool escaping out of the corner of your lips, your hands run in the tufs of his hair, staring down at this wonderful man that knew just what you needed at just the right time. His arms come around your legs–incoming the fat and strong flex of his arms (god fuck)–lowering on him, latching himself on your pussy in an aching attempt to taste deeper inside you. Like a rope attached to your chest, your torso pulls forward. Your eyes flutter at the pure carnal movement of his lips and you groan, your hips moving against his mouth in rhythm to him.

“Fuck…Seokmin, your mouth…”

You can’t form real sentences when it came to this side of Seokmin, but it’s not like he was listening. The nectar that seeps out of you was impossibly addictive, mind-numbing, and trance-inducing. He’d inhale you like oxygen, lost in the divide that separates himself from any other men you’d interact with. 

This pussy was his and only his.

He lowers the surface of his face and you feel the structure of his infamous nose, dragging the perfect tip over your clit and digging through your folds much like his tongue. He presses his face up against you, willingly suffocating himself to appreciate you to his highest capabilities with no fear of consequence. He doesn’t care if he loses sight. He doesn’t work about the strain in his neck after lifting his head up to meet your walls. Nor does he care who’s listening or possibly watching. This was his time–your time. 

Oh fuck it. He wanted this. And knowing you, you’d enjoy it.

His moans vibrate between your walls, your name like a spell enters you like you’re being fucked with the thought of his worship. Your legs grow weak, feeling ready to come down at any moment. You were already so close. Moisture escaping your legs, you shake in confirmation, waves of euphoria hitting you over and over again. You rasp his name in the air and finally, it's something he can hear, and he can tell it’s happening with the taste shifts.

What’s essentially clear, almost like nothing, gets savory in his mouth and it’s exactly what he’s been waiting for. He laps in you harder, firmer, clutching your legs around him like safety bars, nodding into you, in demand for more. So much more.

Your face contorts in pleasure, that familiar tension in your stomach comes back its about time to end, but your body yells at you otherwise. “S-Seokmin…I came…”

“One more…for me…take it…for me…”

Harsh stripes lick up anxiously over you, his fingers coming down on your clit to rub swirls into the bead. Your moans get only louder in response, the sensitivity from coming once mere seconds ago not dissipating. You grind down harder, faster, even bouncing on his tongue for a more stimulating second round, and Seokmin drinks in every second, every minute until you’re doubling over again saying his name in the incomprehensive way you do. 

You flood his mouth once more. His nose, his face, his chin, his neck is covered in a layer of thick, gorgeous release and you finally pull away from him, witnessing the pussy drunken smile stretched over his face from having the best goddamn meal of a lifetime. He’s sweating all over despite having only the job of laying flat on the bed while he devours you. His chest comes up and down rhythmically catching his breath, but it’s not long before he pulls you down, having you taste how he made you feel on his tongue. 

His arms and legs cocoon around you, locking you in his embrace as he defiles your face with the mess he’s made. You chuckle into his kiss, somewhat tired, yet completely at peace. He always knew what to do. You don’t appreciate that enough.

“Thank you,” you say in a hushed voice.

A low groan escapes him. “Anytime. I’ll eat your pussy anywhere and anytime for you. Just remember to relax. Or I’ll be forced to show you more of a good time, and it won’t matter what room we’re in.”

[persephonesfill]

choke on me—chapter ten

breathe me in (prequel fic)

like smoke rings in the air (steve's pov)

chapter nine

a/n: after five thousand years,,,it's finally here. i'm almost free,,,

rating: there's some swearing but nothing too explicit this time

warning(s): just tony being an idiot 💖

—————

When exhaustion finally starts to take a toll on him, Tony decides to crawl out of his workshop and brave the trek to his bedroom. As comfortable as his couch is, it's no match for a real bed. Tony's getting older; he needs the firmness of his mattress lest his back starts screaming at him. And the couch…the couch holds too many memories. Not that his bedroom is any better. Steve had fucked him on his couch but what they had done in his bed…was something else. Something raw. 

He catches a glimpse of himself in the chrome of the elevator and nearly falters. Dark circles, messy hair, and a pinched expression gaze back at him. He looks a little thin in the face, but that doesn't make sense. Hadn't he only been in his workshop for a couple of days? Tony closes his eyes and leans back against the wall. The metal is pleasantly cool to the touch. His stomach clenches, almost as if in protest but, Tony can eat later when he's not dead on his feet. Besides, the kitchen is full of ghosts too.

A part of him knows he can't run anymore. There wasn't anywhere in this tower, anywhere on this earth, that wouldn't remind him of Steve Rogers. Tony was hopelessly, irrevocably changed like shattered glass. Even if you repaired it, painstakingly fitting every piece back together, the cracks would still be there. 

When Tony finally opens his eyes, it's not his penthouse suite, dark and lonely, waiting for him. It's Steve. Steve, who he had run off. Steve, who had stayed, anyway. 

The deja vu hits him hard and all he can think of is the first time Steve hunted him down. His heart jackrabbits in his chest and all he wants to do is run, run, run.

"I just want to talk," Steve says roughly. "Please."

"We talked," Tony says, attempting to shoulder past Steve. All he has to do is make it to his bedroom, then he can lock the door, and—

"That wasn't a talk," Steve says. "Tony, please."

Steve grabs at his arm and Tony lets him because he's weak. He can't, won't look Steve in the face. One look, and he'll crack, and who will be left to pick up the pieces? 

"Fine," Tony says, willing his voice not to tremble. 

"Can you...can you at least look at me? Am I that awful?"

"You're not awful," Tony mutters, still averting his gaze.

"Then why won't you look at me?" Steve squeezed lightly at Tony's arm. His other reached to cup Tony's face, tilting it gently until they were eye to eye and, oh. 

Tony was right. It's too much, looking at Steve this close. His eyes are red and swollen, and Tony is wracked by another pang of guilt. The whole point of this was to save Steve. 

"You're not awful," Tony finds himself repeating, just to get that look off of Steve's face. 

"Then why did you run?" Steve shakes him ever so slightly but it's enough to have Tony gasping. "What are you afraid of?"

Steve leans in and for a moment, Tony thinks he's going to kiss him but all he does is press their foreheads together. His touch burns.

"I thought we were good. I thought..."

Steve trails off and Tony can hear his heartbeat in his ears.

"You left me in the dark, sweetheart."

It's the 'sweetheart' that does Tony in. A kick in the teeth would hurt less. He's shattering again and Steve is picking at the shards with bloodied hands. 

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm —"

Steve shushes him, a strong hand stroking Tony's hair, the way you'd pet a distressed animal. Maybe Tony is an animal, stupid and relying purely on instinct. Instincts that tell him to lean into Steve's touch while he can. Tony's an animal and Steve is his shepherd and he'd follow him off a cliff if Steve asked him to. 

"We're okay? Made a promise, remember? We're okay." 

Tony wakes up with a sob lodged in his throat. Steve? Where was Steve? And why couldn't he breathe? He throws back his sheets, hot and sweaty as they are and if he could, he'd claw his skin off too. 

He wags his head from side to side, once, twice, like a dog. It helps a little, like he's done a factory reset on his brain and he starts to come back to himself. And so does the pain. 

"Jarvis," he croaks. "J?"

"I'm here, sir." 

Jarvis's smooth, dulcet voice is like a balm to his soul. Tony blinks away the wetness gathered in the wells of his eyes. It was a dream. A terrible fantasy his stupid brain had manufactured as soon as he had closed his eyes. Like Steve would touch him, hold him...

"...Would you like for me to send for Captain Rogers, sir?"

Really? Again? Why would Jarvis suggest that after Tony had made himself clear the first time? Unless...

"Jarvis...have you done that before?"

Jarvis has no body. He is circuitry and code, one of Tony's first creations and there's nothing he could keep from Tony, but as his AI speaks, Tony swears he would be bowing his head in embarrassment. 

Jarvis speaks and a few things make sense to Tony in that moment, particularly the way Steve was always able to find him in those early days. The first night they had truly connected outside the physical. Steve, with his sleep-tousled hair and bunny slippers like he had just gotten out of bed. 

Tony thinks of hot cocoa kisses and red-gold hand-in-hand with blue-white and he wants to jump off of a fucking cliff—

"No. I don't...I don't need him, J. I don't want him." 

What a joke. 

"If you say so, sir."

Tony's made the right decision. He and Steve, it's a bad idea. A ticking time bomb that would have gotten them both killed if Tony hadn't put his foot down. 

Howard, bastard that he was, had had the right of it. Stark men weren't made for love, for a life of softness. That wasn't their legacy. It was blood and iron and an early grave. 

Tony could at least spare Steve the same fate.

***

The next night, Tony makes sure to go to bed early. Surely, it's the sleep deprivation doing him in, making him dream up, stupid, impossible things. He goes to sleep like a normal human being and wakes up screaming because tonight's dream is even worse. It's him and Steve but as they were before. Lost in each other. Happy. And completely blind to the danger around them. They're lying in his bed, bodies and souls so intertwined, Tony doesn't even notice the intruder in his tower until they're kicking down his door, a gun aimed right for Steve's head. 

The night after next, it's Steve falling from the helicarrier with the sea rising to swallow him. 

Every night, Tony goes to bed and every night, he loses Steve in every way imaginable.

The night terrors do him in and eventually, even hiding in the workshop is no option. Going back would be a waste of time, at least while he was running on fumes. Sleep deprivation and mechanical engineering surprisingly didn’t mix well. Instead, he does what he can on his StarkPad, just to keep himself busy. It’s fine. It’s not the first time he’s pulled an all-nighter and surely won’t be the last. Countless sleepless nights at MIT had prepared him for this very moment. 

But…he had had Rhodey then. To be fair, he still had Rhodey. He just wasn’t talking to him right now. Or any of the Avengers. 

It was nothing they did, and part of Tony does feel guilty for leaving them in the dark the way he did—

"You left me in the dark, sweetheart."

Tony flinches, and therein lies the problem. He can’t see Rhodey, or the rest of the Avengers, because then he would have to see Steve, and that’s something he just can’t handle right now. Not when he knows that whenever he was struggling, Jarvis would take it upon himself to contact Steve and Steve would always answer. Like Tony was another mission. A burden. 

Tony goes five more days in full isolation. He doesn't necessarily spend them in bliss. Bliss would imply a sense of peace and he felt anything but peaceful these days. Tony survives on a steady diet of coffee, barely sleeps, and when he does, nightmares of all sorts plague his mind. The Avengers and Rhodey have stopped asking Jarvis about him, Pepper's finally stopped calling, and Steve...Steve hasn't sought him out once. 

It's fine. That's what Tony had wanted. Still, it's hard not to seek Steve out. Tony doesn't even realize he's looking for him some days until he's pulling out two coffee mugs instead of one in the morning or rolling to the right side of his bed to make space for the body that isn't there. The memory of Steve clings to him like cigarette smoke; inescapable and everywhere all at once. 

Tony had forgotten how heavy, how utterly encompassing loneliness had felt. His limbs were stiff with it, his tongue heavy from disuse. And underneath it all, the slow lurching beat of his heart still pumping away. Still, he endured.

On the sixth day, Tony is lured out of his self-imposed exile when Jarvis alerts him of a Code Green. Not the most creative of emergency codes but it got its point across, point being that Bruce was seconds away from hulking out and going on a rampage. 

So far in the six months that they've all been living in the tower, they've never had a Code Green, until now. As much as Bruce may not trust himself, he still had impeccable control. Whatever had triggered a Code Green must have been serious. 

A thousand scenarios each worse than the last cycle through Tony's brain and everything else melts away. The bone-deep exhaustion, the soul-devouring loneliness, none of it matters, not when someone he loves is at stake. And he loves Bruce, loves him like a brother, loves him like he loves Rhodey, and Tony will be damned if he sees him hurt. 

Tony takes the stairs to Bruce's floor—the elevator would be too slow— in what feels like record time and it helps drive away the rest of the mindless fugue he had languished in for the past week. There was a mission to complete and nothing else. 

When he had first renovated the tower after the Chitauri invasion, Tony had created personal floors for each of the Avengers on a whim. On the off chance that they needed a place to retreat to when the expectations of their world got to be too much. He had never thought—never hoped—that it would be permanent. That they would call his tower home. 

As Tony looks around, Bruce has done just that. Bruce's personal floor is bright and airy, sky blues and light woods, and...perfectly intact. Bookcases lined neatly against the wall, pictures safe in their frames, and no sign of a Hulk-out anywhere. 

"I'm sorry,” Bruce says softly, stepping into Tony’s way and Tony understands. 

It’s another betrayal. One he definitely would have seen coming under different circumstances. He doesn’t even have it in him to blow up. He’s too sleep-deprived for that and right now two Bruce Banners are staring at him in concern. He blinks until the other Bruce disappears.

“You’re sorry?” Tony says and he hates how the words come out, all rough and stilted like he’s just learned how to speak. “For what, lying to me? Don’t worry about it, all my friends have at some point.” 

It’s a low jab, Tony knows it is, but Bruce’s responding flinch hurts just as much. 

“We didn’t know what else to do. One second, everything was fine, and we were…we were happy. Then you went ghost on us, Tony. God, we didn’t even know if you were still alive.”

“You thought I was dead? You thought I would do that to you? To all of you?”

“We didn’t want to assume the worse but you left us in the dark,” Bruce says and he might as well have yanked the proverbial arc reactor out of Tony’s chest. Tony lets out a sharp gasp like he’s been punched, but Bruce is still talking, scrubbing a hand through his hair. Tony’s seen him do it countless times, usually when he’s stressed and this time is no different.

“And Steve was about as forthright as you are before he left—“

“Steve left?” 

“He’s been gone since yesterday morning,” Bruce says quietly and Tony—Tony falters. Steve had never come to see him because he hadn’t been there in the first place and that…it bothers him. 

Bruce steadies him with ease, two surprisingly strong hands securing Tony by his arm. He lets Bruce lead him to a nearby chair and collapses into it like a puppet whose strings have been cut. 

“Easy, Tony, easy,” Bruce says softly, rubbing circles into Tony’s back. His hand is an anchor to the physical world, and not the melancholia Tony has constructed for himself. 

Still, the nagging thought that Steve was gone—had left—because of him, was persistent. 

“Steve’s going to come back,” Bruce says firmly. “And we’re going to be alright. But we can’t do any of this without you. Both of you.”

Bruce pulls out a chair beside Tony and sits so they're face to face. This close, Tony can see the gray coming in Bruce’s sea of curls, the dark, pronounced circles underneath his eyes. He looks as ragged as Tony feels. 

Here Bruce was, trying to comfort Tony, and Tony could barely stand to look him in the eye. Yinsen had told him not to waste his life and here Tony was, doing just that. 

"Come back to us," Bruce whispers clutching at Tony's wrists like they were his lifeline. "Come back to me."

Maybe it's the lack of sleep and proper sustenance or both, but Tony finds himself saying something he would never admit in a million years under any other circumstances. "I don't deserve it. I don't deserve your—" 

"It's not about whether or not you deserve it," Bruce snaps, sharp as a whip, and cutting Tony off in the process. 

"I'm rotten, Bruce," Tony says and he can taste the rot on his tongue, the dark, worthless part of him that's been with him since birth. What good was he, really? What good was Tony Stark after all the dirt he had dealt? What good was Iron Man? 

"Then so am I," Bruce says and firmly cuts Tony off before he can even protest. "You're so quick to defend me, but won't give yourself the same courtesy. Why?" 

His words cut deep down to the marrow. It's hard to shake them away, and Bruce latches onto the opening in Tony's walls while he can. 

"What is it about you that makes you think you're so awful? That you don't deserve love—"

"Because it's me, Bruce! Because I'm Tony fucking Stark and I was born with blood on my hands. That's my legacy. Nothing I do will ever change that—"

"Then why bother? Why bother with any of this if you don't think it matters?"

"I don't—I—"

"Don't say you don't know," Bruce says. "You're too smart for that. You know what I think?"

Bruce doesn't even give him time to answer. "I think your heart's too big for your body." 

Tony had been called heartless more times than he could count, but his heart too big for his body? Some would say it didn't even exist. 

Bruce reaches out, slowly, carefully, like Tony's going to bite him. He reaches until his palm connects with Tony's sternum. His heart lurches to life then and it hurts, God, does it hurt, like it's trying to leap right out of his chest.

"Yes, you're Tony Stark, and you have blood on your hands, but you also have love in your heart. I know it. I've seen it."

Tony’s eyes sting. He blinks away the tears before they fall but it doesn’t matter; Bruce has already seen them. 

“Your heart is too big for your body, and that scares you. You try to run from it, but Tony you can’t outrun yourself. You can lie to yourself all you want. You can say you’re rotten and you don’t deserve love, but I know the truth.” 

“…And what’s the truth?”

“Agent Romanoff has issued a call to assemble,” JARVIS says, startling them both. Bruce removes his hand from Tony’s chest and Tony feels like he can breathe again. 

“Is this another trick?”

“No,” Bruce winces but shakes his head. “This is real.”

“Then let’s go,” Tony says, rising out of his seat and already headed for the door. 

“Tony—“

Tony freezes in the doorway, and it takes everything in him not to tremble. 

“What?” He bites out. 

“…We’ve got your back. Always.”

***

Tony and Bruce are the last to enter the war room, all eyes immediately hone in on them. Natasha stands at the head of the table, level-headed and alert, Thor and Clint flanking her in their respective seats. Steve is nowhere to be found and it's fine. They'll get through it. He doesn't miss the way their eyes linger on Bruce or the subtle shake of Bruce's head as they take their seats.

He wants to say something, wants to mention the lies, the deceit, but his pride won’t allow it. If he talks then it means that they got to him, that Bruce got to him and he won’t give the others the satisfaction.

“What do we got?” Tony says, in lieu of a greeting and Natasha is, thankfully, business as usual. 

“Larissa, Greece,” she says. “We think it’s one of the old bases they've made home.”

Tony thinks of everything he knows about Larissa. It's inland, but not too far from the coast of Greece…and one of the most populated cities in the Thessaly region. “You think or you know?”

“Same signs as the one in the Alps,” Natasha purses her lips. “Residents going missing, ties to HYDRA’s glory days and…” Her eyes flicker over to Bruce.

“And what?”

“Gamma rays. Lots of ‘em.” 

That had been one of their breakthroughs. The scepter emitted gamma rays to the likes of which Tony had never seen, aside from the Tesseract. He has the strangest feeling that those two things are connected, but the Tesseract is long gone, back on Asgard where it belongs. He could look at Howard's old research notes, see if anything might help them get any closer to locating the scepter. 

It helps, to have a threat to focus on, somewhere to channel his anger and frustration. "You think the scepter is emitting gamma rays to that capacity? And the EPA isn't on top of that?"

Bruce raises a hand. "Well, technically it wouldn't be the EPA. It's the Hellenic Ministry of—"

"Not the time for semantics, dude," Clint says. Tony can already feel the migraine coming on.

"Or maybe it is." 

Tony's throat closes at the sight of Steve, sweeping through the door, right in the middle of their meeting.

It's been too long since he's seen Steve's face and he doesn't know whether to look away or stare dead on.

He's still handsome, outrageously so even with the heavy bags underneath his eyes and messy, windswept hair. He's clearly just come back from wherever he fucked off to, clad in a brown leather jacket and blue jeans that have no right to look as good on him as they do. His eyes rove over Steve obsessively, checking for the wounds that aren't there, that only make themselves known in dreams. A thousand questions come to Tony then: why did Steve leave, why did he come back, why didn't he stay, but all that comes out is "Why?" and maybe he's asking every question at once. 

Steve shifts his attention entirely to Tony and it's overwhelming. The full heat of Steve's gaze is enough to make his ears pop like he's standing at a cliff's edge. "You're the genius," Steve says coolly. "Don't you know everything?" He takes a seat next to Bruce…and right across from Tony.

“You think the government’s in on it,” Tony says, answering one of his questions. 

“It would explain the lack of interference, it being an inside job.” 

“And if it is, what’s the plan here, Steve? Look, we got lucky last time. That base was sequestered away in the middle of the fucking Alps. Larissa’s a city and cities mean civilians—“

“I know the risk, Tony. Don't you think I've thought of that? Just like you? God—"

“Does anyone else feel like they’re missing something?” Thor mutters none too subtly and it takes all of Tony’s willpower not to scream.

“All the time, buddy,” Clint says.

“That’s enough,” Natasha snaps, commanding their attention back to her. It’s not the first time he’s been subjected to her glare, nor will it be the last but it still makes Tony feel like he’s some dumb little kid.

“HYDRA won’t have to send anyone after us,” she continues, looking each one of them in the eye. “We’re doing a bang-up job tearing ourselves apart.”

Her voice cracks like a whip and it’s enough to make all of them flinch. Shame boils inside him and his stomach roils like he’s going to vomit. That, coupled with the ever-building headache behind his eyelids has him ready to keel over. 

“The longer we sit here tearing each other down, that’s another minute the scepter is in HYDRA’s hands. That’s one more person they’re poking and prodding at like a fucking rat. That’s what matters.” 

The scepter is and perhaps always will be a dark shadow looming over Tony’s head. Natasha's reminder is enough to bring him back down to earth. He thinks of Elena Senn burnt beyond recognition and swears he can taste smoke.

"I'm calling a recess," Natasha says, closing her eyes and pinching the bridge of her forehead. "We clearly need it." 

Slowly the others file out of the room casting lingering glances at both Steve and Tony on their way out, until it was just them and Natasha who remained. Bruce's gaze was especially pointed. Tony tries his best to ignore it. 

"Get your shit together," Natasha says quietly but her words are still deafening in their sincerity. "Or I do it for you." She leaves purposefully shutting the door behind her.

It's just him and Steve, on opposite sides of the table. It might as well be a canyon; Tony has never been further away from Steve. Neither of them makes a move to leave, but what is there to be said between them? Tony had let Steve go and he had no choice but to make his peace with it.

 "I'm sorry," Steve says roughly, all of the combativeness and snark from earlier leaving him as quickly as it came. 

"For what?" Tony says, maybe a bit too harshly judging by the way Steve flinches. "You haven't done anything to me. Hell, according to Bruce, you haven't even been here." And that didn't sound bitter and accusatory at all. 

Steve had left and Tony had been alone and a part of him that he tries to smother to death can't help but wonder, "Why didn't he come for me?" 

Steve Rogers was notoriously stubborn, Tony was more than familiar with that now, so why did he just let Tony call the shots? Why didn't he fight? Why didn't he stay—

"Can you fucking blame me? One minute things were fine. It wasn't perfect, but…we were good. We were so good, Tony, and then…" Steve's voice cracks but he doesn't need to finish his sentence. Tony already knows what he's going to say. After six months, it feels like he knows Steve better than he knows himself some days. 

"I just…I never thought you would run," Tony whispers, mostly to himself, but Steve hears him anyway. 

"It didn't help," Steve says quietly. "I saw you everywhere." 

Tony crosses his arms in front of his chest, but that won't stop him from breaking apart. Not after an admission like that. Steve had haunted Tony all this time, and it looked like Tony had done the same. What did it mean? Tony wasn't the type to believe in curses or destiny, but sometimes, Steve felt like both. Like something sent from the gods to lead him into sin or absolution.

"I don't know what it was like for you," Steve says, locking eyes with Tony. "But I couldn't shake you. No matter how much I tried I—"

"Don't," Tony blurts out, interrupting him. "I can't hear this."

"Why not? It's how I feel. I can't tell you how I feel?"

Tony shakes his head hard. "You shouldn't—you shouldn't feel anything about me."

Steve's rising out of his seat and in seconds he's in Tony's face. Tony plants his feet, stands solid like a tree, and hopes he seems more steadfast than he feels. But God, having Steve this close nearly makes him shiver, after the days, weeks without. There's fire in Steve's eyes, and a part of Tony is desperate to burn. 

"It's not me, is it?" Steve says, and the way he says it, Tony knows it's not a question and for the second time today, someone is seeing past every single mask he's donned and clawing the truth out of him. "It's you. You don't think you deserve it, do you?"

Tony says nothing, but his face must betray him. Steve's face twists into a grimace and he's like an animal, lashing out with the intent to kill.

"God, is that what you think? That you have to fucking earn love like an animal? Like a goddamn dog? Sit, roll over, play dead and someone will throw you a bone?" 

The words hurt, like a kick in the teeth. They hurt because they ring with the truth, and a fever seizes Tony. A bitter burning thing that leaves him seething. How dare he? How dare he throw Tony’s feelings in his face like he was stupid for having them? 

"What else am I supposed to do? This?" Tony gestures between the both of them, poking Steve hard in the chest, in the process. "This is a fucking transaction. I give and people take, Steve. They take and they take and take until I have nothing left. That's how this goes. That's how it's always been. One day I won't be able to give you anything, or—or you won't want it, but either way I'm the one left empty.” Tony blinks, surprised to feel the telltale wetness of tears clumping his lashes together. He hadn’t cried in years, not since his parents had died and all the goodness in his life had died with them. He doesn't bother wiping them. Steve's already seen, the anger seeping through his very pores dying in an instant. The anger leaves Tony too and all he’s left with is a bone-deep exhaustion and of course, the ever-present shame. What was he ashamed of? It’d be easier to list the things he took pride in.

"No," Steve says. He's shaking and fuck, Tony wants to touch him. He wants to be the one who takes, wants to have Steve completely to himself but that would go against everything he had sworn not to do when he broke things off.

"No," Steve says again, more firm this time. "You don't get it, do you?" 

"Get what? There's nothing to 'get'. We both knew this was a horrible idea and—"

All this time, with them shouting at each other, Tony hadn't even noticed them inching closer until he and Steve were damn near nose to nose. He sees the moment Steve snaps, the way his eyes darken, and next thing Tony knows, Steve is seizing him around the waist and it’s like all the times before. Before Tony had known he was in love, before they had fallen apart and it's so. fucking. Easy. It's so easy, Tony could fucking cry at the relief of Steve's hands on him, hot and possessive and exactly what he needs.

"You don't get it," Steve growls, pushing them backwards, until Tony's flush with the table.

Steve kisses him then, until Tony’s breathless, gasping into his mouth like that’ll help him breathe. Like every kiss isn’t killing him. 

Steve slips his tongue into Tony's mouth like it belongs there like Tony was a fool for ever shutting him out. Tony lets him do what he wants. Digs his fingers into Steve's hair, tugging at the short strands, just the way Steve likes. Steve grabs him by the thighs, and lifts so Tony's sitting on the table and Steve's stepping into the v of his legs, spread open as they are. 

He's dying or he's being reborn, but either way, Steve's at the center of it all, beautiful, terrible, Steve Rogers, kissing his lips, his nose, his neck. 

Tony's vision swims and it could be the lack of sleep, or Steve's teeth on his neck, or both at this point, but he finds it hard to care. He breaths in the scent of leather and Steve's cologne, that fucking lemon and pepper and sycamore, and it might as well be a line of cocaine. He's as good as an addict right now, high off every bit of Steve that he can get. Until it all comes crashing down.

"I love you," Steve whispers against his skin.

Every muscle in Tony's body seizes like someone's slammed their foot on the brakes, except it's his brain going ninety miles an hour. Steve withdraws, sensing his discomfort and Tony wants to punch him for it. Sometimes, he hates that Steve can read him so well, can see how close he is to falling apart. He wants to yank Steve back in for yet another kiss and he wants to push him away for the sake of his own sanity.

"I love you," Steve says again and it might as well be a knife, a sharp and precise hit to Tony's guts. How could he say that? How could…how could Steve believe that?

"Don't," Tony whispers. 

"Why not? I'm stating a fact." 

"What?" Tony slides off the table, and just barely stands on shaky legs. "God, Steve, that's not a fact. That's—that's an opinion if anything, and an incorrect one at that."

"If it's an opinion, how can it be incorrect?" Steve asks and the utter audacity of him has Tony sputtering. 

"That's why it's a fact. Water is wet, the sky is blue, I fucking love you." 

Tony shakes his head again and again like that will make the words go away, like it will make Steve go away, but of course that infamous Rogers stubbornness is making itself known. 

"Either way, you're wrong," Tony says. 

"Is this what we're doing?" 

"Yes, because you're an idiot."

"That's what love does, Tony." 

"Please, stop," Tony says, taking a shuddering breath. "Stop saying that word."

Steve cups Tony's face with both hands, until Tony has no choice but to look at him, and bear witness to his confession. His pupils are blown, the blue of his eyes nothing but a thin ring. Steve's lips are pink and kiss-swollen. Tony can't help but commit the sight to memory. 

"Can you look me in the eyes, Tony? Can you look me in the eyes, and say that you don't love me? That I'm fucking crazy, and this thing between us is all in my head?" 

And for the life of him, Tony can't. He can't because it doesn't make any sense, that someone like Steve could possibly love the likes of Tony fucking Stark. It goes against everything Tony's ever known, ever heard. Tony is a man of facts and numbers and all the facts tell him that Steve Rogers is a good man and Tony…Tony isn't. They're incongruent. Two puzzle pieces that will never fit together no matter how much they try to slot into each other's lives. Steve can fuck him but he can't love him. No one can. 

Instead of saying that, Tony closes his eyes. It's enough of an answer.

Steve laughs and it's a bitter thing. Nothing at all like the golden timber Tony is used to. "You're a lot of things, Tony. I didn't think you were a coward." 

He lets go of Tony's face and when he opens his eyes, Steve's leaving the war room, the door closing behind him with a resounding slam.

“Your heart’s too big for your body,” Bruce had said. Tony wants to claw it out.

[albatmobile]

The Art of Rehabilitating Snowbirds Chapter 9

𓅪 After not hearing from Roy or Jason for five years, you suddenly find yourself taking in extra income as a babysitter for Roy and Jason's child.

𓅪 Rated: E | TW: masturbation | 7.8k includes: Waking up w Jayroy, masturbation, break-ins, forced cohabitation, trying to clear the air w Damian

fem!Reader x Jason Todd x Roy Harper [masterlist]

Chapter Nine: What You Know | ao3 - wattpad

You wake up in what you assume to be Roy and Jason’s bed. 

Old habits die hard, right? 

It’s still early as you hear domestic sounds from the kitchen. Your stomach uncomfortably clenches at the reminder that they're really together. It means you’re merely a visitor in their world. You don’t want to overstay your welcome.

You rub the sleep from your eyes, stretching across their mattress before sitting up. You take a moment in the daylight to look around the simplicity of their room, noticing how they’ve conveniently shut the door. 

The room is mainly devoid of any personal memorabilia, much like the rest of their apartment, though they do have one photo. You notice Roy's nightstand holds a picture of him and Lian on a boat somewhere with Jason in the background, flipping the camera off.

You roll your eyes; the photo captured their essence entirely. 

Chaotic and sweet. 

You triple-check the door's shut before burying your nose first into Roy’s pillow, then into Jason’s, inhaling their respective scents with a dreamy sigh. 

So fucking creepy, you berate yourself in your hypnotized state, but definitely worth it.

You bite your lip at the heavy scent of sleep coupled with their own personal musk as you fight the urge to touch yourself. Your hand, however, has a mind of its own. It begins to wander tantalizingly slow down the expanse of your body, imagining what it’d be like for them to still be in bed with you. 

What it’d be like for them to want you in this way.  

You lay on your stomach and smother your face in between their pillows as you situate your arm underneath yourself in a way that allows you to slip your fingers into Jason’s boxers to cup you. You apply slight pressure with your hand before grinding into it with a shaky exhale. 

You can picture it now.    

Roy would still be in bed, spooning you from behind, lightly tracing his fingers up and down your sides, tickling you as he lifted your shirt up slowly. Maybe he’d even hush you as he slipped his warm fingers down into the waistband of his boyfriend’s boxers that you're wearing to tease around the outside of your lips long enough. He’d tease long enough to leave you frustratedly arching into his strained cock. 

Roy would make you moan louder than you ever had before. 

Your hand hesitates parting your lips as guilt washes over you from what comes next. 

Jason would wake up to see you panting and moaning by his boyfriend's hand alone, finally having indulged you with actual touch. He would slip his index finger in between your lips slowly, all while grinning wickedly at Jason, who wouldn’t be able to keep his eyes off of the two of you. You imagined him only being upset about the fact that you started without him. Once he got over it, Jason would have no choice but to palm himself at the sight of Roy plunging in and out of your squelching cunt at a firm, tantalizing pace that would leave you withering lewdly in his strong grasp for more.

Jason would then force his entire length inside your open, drooling mouth. You would only last mere seconds before you’d desperately grind down into Roy’s thrust with a shuddering sigh that chokes out from around Jason’s wicked thickness and come.

You want to stop thrusting into yourself, but you don’t. You can't. 

The whole fantasy is so fucked up. You would quite literally be coming between their relationship, panting mess and all. 

This whole situation is so fucked up. They could walk in at any moment to see your pathetic form spilling your wetness onto the same sheets they fuck on. The thought leaves you a whimpering mess. 

You inadvertently moan, immediately shoving your face into Jason’s pillow to muffle any further noises. You move to circle teasingly around your aching clit, wishing you would just come already. It smells just like the body wash you keep getting whiffs of whenever he passes by. You bask in his intimate scent, though you can't deny how your stomach twinges when you realize this is as close as you’ll get to having sex with either of them.

Forcibly pushing the thought away, you once again focus on the building pressure in your lower abdomen. 

What if they did walk in?

Would they leave you? Would they hesitate?

Maybe they’d even share one of those dumb mind-reading looks they always seemed to share, then look back to you before joining you on the bed. 

You quickly unraveled into the new fantasy, imagining Jason being the one to take charge with Roy following his lead. You bite your lip and flip onto your back, feeling your orgasm grow close. 

You want to give them a show.

You lazily take off the boxers and shove them into your mouth, spreading your legs apart to rub your clit at a shaky, edging pace. Thinking back to all those years ago to your drunken dream of Jason’s erection poking into your stomach when you’d leaned across him to kiss Roy, you imagined recreating it with them right here. You finally feel stretched enough to add another finger and moan immediately into the fabric of the boxers at the obscene squelch that follows. 

It's hard not to imagine what they'd look like completely naked. You'd seen them both shirtless, for sure, but everything else... not so much. In your wanton state, you realize with a hint of amusement that Roy most definitely has a case of fire crotch.

You wonder what the coolness of Roy’s prosthetic would feel like inside of you.

Fuck. 

You whimper against the fabric, imagining Jason being the one who fucks you while Roy fucked Jason into you at a toe-curling pace that would leave you absolutely wrecked on their bed. You would watch as they got lost in each other’s bodies and be slightly jealous that you didn’t know them as well as they obviously did. Jason would know just when to back into Roy’s thrust and Roy would know just when to pull his hand away from Jason’s cock to prevent him from coming.

Out of all the things to orgasm to, you’re embarrassed to admit that the imagery of them fucking is what ultimately takes you over the edge, but it does.

Your hips twitch as you release onto the sheets below, rendering you a panting mess once the trembling ceased. A sultry hiss escapes your makeshift gag when your retreating hand accidentally come in contact with your overly sensitive clit.  

You spit out the gag with a low curse, “Shit.” You hold your breath and focus on the noises coming from outside the room

It’s only then that you realize not only do you not have any pants to change into, but the boxer's you'd been planning to wear now sport a noticeable wet spot from your drool.

Great. 

It seems like the shirt Jason gave you is long enough to cover the dampness and you didn’t dare go through their drawers, but damn... You really should’ve thought this out better.

You use their restroom to wipe yourself up and to give yourself a chance to stop shaking before tugging down the shirt as much as far down as it'll go. 

All that's left to do is face them, so you open their door to brave the kitchen. 

You know you hadn’t been loud, but somehow it feels like they know what you’ve done. Shame simmers in the pit of your stomach as you force yourself to say a casual good morning, hoping that the shirt will conceal the spot of saliva and slick. 

They both look you over, then look at each other. They can't know... There's no way. They don't know... Fuck. You regret everything. You're getting really tired of their psychic conversations with each other, especially when you're right here in front of them. 

Once you stop being paranoid, you eventually chalk up the look being more about your bizarre sleeping arrangements last night than your steamy morning adventures.

“What?” you ask, daring either of them to say anything, especially with Lian right there cutting bananas for the pancakes Jason's making.

“Nothing. You look like you slept well.”

“I did.” You sit down on the stool at the kitchen island, reaching over to sweep the bananas into a pile on the side of the cutting board to give Lian more room to cut. “Roy kept me nice and warm throughout the night.” 

“Woah, hey," Roy jokes, "I’m supposed to be the one flirting with you, princess.”

“You’re not supposed to be flirting with pretty girls, anyway. Right, my love?” Jason sticks his tongue out, which Roy easily sucks into his mouth with an intimate moan.

You watch greedily while they share a brief, sloppy kiss that ends with Jason nibbling at Roy’s wet, chapped lower lip. The vivid imagery from your earlier escapade, the erotic kiss in front of you, coupled with Jason calling you pretty? It's enough to make you wet again.

Abort, abort, abort. 

“I’m not flirting,” you say, attempting to steer the conversation back toward PG level and shift uncomfortably in your seat. “You’re like a fucking furnace or something.”

Roy dumps sausage duty on Jason in favor of limping over to sit next to you. “What?” Roy asks teasingly. Jason merely pours another pancake into the pan, glare never once leaving his boyfriend. “You did say you wanted to cook more, did you not?”

“So, this is how Alfred must feel,” Jason jokes. Your giggle causes Jason to do a double-take at the endearing sound. 

You wipe at your face as if you have something on it. “What?”

He gives you a constipated look before swiftly returning his attention back to the stove. “Shut up.”

You narrow your eyes, preparing a witty retort, but Roy grabs your chin to quite literally pull your attention his way. Your eyes are wide, lips slightly parted in surprise. The boyish smirk you're met with renders you speechless.

“What’s the matter, baby?" Roy purrs. "Personally, I want to hear more about your sleepover experience.”

You stutter slightly and curse yourself for it when Roy notices how much his attention affects you. “You’re just warm’s all,” you try again.

“Even with this bad boy?” He wiggles his bionic fingers in front of your face. You blush as you imagine them milking your arousal out of you with each and every slick pump into your tight heat.

Yeah, definitely not the best time to be thinking about this.

“I like it,” you say honestly. Roy's face cracks for a second at your response before he’s able to control it again. “What? Did I say something wrong?”

“No.” It sounds choked. 

Jason saves Roy from further response by placing loaded plates of breakfast in front of both of you. Jason gives you an unreadable look, leaving you to once again wish for the ability to understand what it means. Was he silently telling you to stop flirting with his boyfriend?

All he ends up saying is, “I do want to start cooking again.”

You're left to shake your head at this abrupt shift in conversation, but you humor Jason anyway. “You should. Lian loves to cook with me.” You look around for where she’s disappeared off to, but she isn’t in any of her usual spots.

“So we’ve noticed.” 

Roy snorts, “Any time I go to microwave a Hot Pocket, she asks to do it.”

It’s nice to hear Lian really does like spending time with you and how you’ve had a small, yet apparent, impact on her.

“Good,” you say, smiling lightly. “Maybe she and Jason can both teach you how to cook.” 

“You can teach me, too.” Roy seems to be back in functioning order, but you don’t want to chance another one of their shared looks for whatever reason.

You decide to chance a look at Jason, but he simply nods before saying, “Family cooking day, then.”

Your words catch in your throat at the unexpected statement. 

Last night, you'd told them they were your family, but to hear them say it back means everything. Your heart feels like it's going to burst with warmth.

“I’d like that.” You blush, feeling their heavy gazes on you, but choose to ignore them. You clear your throat, effectively killing the line of conversation. “As much as I’d like to stick around here for another day, permanently sleep between the two of you and adopt your daughter, I really do need to shower. I need to give my skin the nutrients it’s been waiting on for,” you check your phone for the time, “over 24 hours now.”

“You are more than welcome to do all of the above and more here, princess.” 

Your eyes widen as your face heats up. You subconsciously look over to Jason for his approval, but he seems to be in complete agreement. 

About the shower, of course. 

Regardless of Roy’s flirty response to your dumb joke, that's all they're talking about. Don’t kid yourself. 

"I remember how high maintenance your routine was," Jason says as he grabs a pen and pad of paper and leans on the counter across from you. “Just write down whatever you need and we'll get it stocked over here.”

Him remembering little things about you was cute. You couldn’t help but be reminded of how close they’d been back to high school, seeming to know everything about each other and how you, on the other hand, always felt like an outsider. Now, you can see how it’s shifting. Maybe they really are trying to let you in. 

You shrug and write out a two-page list that they both end up scoffing at.

“If I wrote down a brand, make sure you get the brand.” Your meticulous skincare couldn’t be skipped every other night like it has been with your unanticipated sleepovers over here. 

You watch Lian scurry from her room and over to the couch to sit in front of the TV, watching some Cartoon Network show and go to give her a hug. She beams at you and tries to lead you to the kitchen (which is what she usually does when she wants you to make her something), so you try to fix her a plate of pancakes with bananas, but she refuses. 

Jason leans tiredly against the counter while Roy dozes off on the kitchen stool. 

“She’s become such a picky eater over the past few days,” Jason bemoans. “Even when I make stuff from scratch, all she wants to eat are your leftovers.” 

 “With Roy serving up that carbonara shit, I don’t blame her.” You stand upright with a quick apology, bending down to her level to make her promise not to repeat what you said. 

“You say lots of bad words.” 

You blush at the little girl’s accusation, reaching into the freezer to pull out the two quiches you’d made yesterday with Lian and preheat the oven. 

“Only around your dad and daddy,” you say, looking over to where Jason is staring at you in amusement while Roy smirks, albeit sleepily. “Less than 20 minutes in the oven, or just wait until the cheese on top bubbles; why am I saying this? Jason, you know how to cool.”

Jason just laughs at your babbling in response.

“Don’t forget your stripper fit over the tub,” Roy reminds you with his emerald eyes gleaming with mischief. 

“You’re incorrigible, Roy,” you chastise him and shake your head in faux disappointment as you go to retrieve your dried bikini. “Jason, seriously. Control your boyfriend.”

“I’ll try.” He smiles tiredly at you.

Everything is so… domestic.

It makes your stomach flip a bit. You needed to leave, like, eight hours ago.

“Alright, I’m out.”

You hug Lian again and she makes you promise to return soon before you unlock the door to salute the two hulking men in the kitchen and leave. 

•••

You arrive back at your apartment only to find your door blown wide open and what little belongings you own scattered about the living room.  

You listen for any obvious sounds of movement, but when you hear none, you sigh. 

You can’t call Jason and Roy because you’d just left their place. The last thing you wanted to do was leave an injured Roy with Lian and be stuck dealing with Jason’s brooding ass alone.

That leaves only one person...

You give in and call Damian, who ignores your first two attempts to call him before answering curtly on the third.

“What?”

You’ve never felt like you couldn’t talk to Damian before, but even now, when you need help, you don’t know if you’re overstepping some sort of boundary. You haven’t stepped inside at all, being too afraid, so you muster up enough courage to break the thick ice between the two of you. 

“I’m scared,” you breathe into the phone as if afraid someone might hear you. 

You hear him shift around. “What’s going on?”

“My apartment got broken into,” you manage through a failed attempt to choke back the tears you hadn’t realized were brewing.

The past few days have been so intense, with hit after hit. You're starting to think the attacks might not be as random as you’d first thought.

“I’ll be over shortly,” he hangs up with a click, never being one to comfort or touch feelings with a mile-long pole. You have to admit that his awkwardness is almost comforting in a way, as his gruff attitude does manage to pull a small chuckle out of you.

He arrives in record time. Apparently, he still cares about you because if he’d wanted to, he could’ve left you waiting on him for hours. 

Upon arrival, he immediately brushes past you to survey the mess in front of you before immediately stalking into the kitchen where he picks something up with knitted brows. He looks down at whatever it is, then back up at you. 

His hazel eyes couldn’t contain the worry he felt, causing dread to flood your stomach.

“You need to stay with Jason and Roy.” 

You try to catch a glimpse of whatever shiny thing he’s holding in his hand, but he swiftly pockets it before you can inspect it any further.

“Oh, so now you’re on their side?” you ask petulantly.

He looks at you with an intensity you only remember from the night the Joker held you at knifepoint. “This is serious,” he hisses your name as he hastily begins to help you pick up salvagables. “We need to get out of here and fast.” 

Sensing the urgency, you quickly gather your bearings and things. It’s not like you have much to grab, anyway. Your whole life, as it turns out, fits perfectly into two suitcases. You tug them behind you with no help, mind you, from the tanned man next to you. 

You don’t care. 

He can be petty all he wants; you'll be stubborn right back. 

You’re passing by the kitchen one final time when Damian yells your name and tackles you out into the threshold of the hallway. His body covers your own just as a small explosion rocks your apartment. 

The two of you fall into the hallway in a heap while small rocks and foundation pelt at the parts of you that aren’t currently covered by Damian.

“What was that?!” you asked incredulously, looking over at the hole where your apartment had just been.

Damian gets off of you while wiping the dust and debris off his clothes. You wait for a hand up and roll your eyes when it never comes. 

You pull yourself up from the ground, wincing slightly at a slight tug you feel in your lower left rib.

“You tripped an explosive device,” Damian says it like it’s obvious. He grabs the one bag you’d managed to maintain throughout the ordeal and ushers you out of the building and into his blacked-out car below.

You reflect on your earlier conclusion: these attacks aren’t random. 

You're being targeted.

•••

You arrive back at their apartment approximately an hour after you’d left. 

“Back so soon?” Roy jests at your sudden arrival, then deadpans when he sees who’s right behind you. “Oh,” he says monotonously at Damian’s lurking presence, “you brought company.” Roy leaves the door open for you guys to come in before walking back to the couch, “Great.” 

You struggle with your bag, but Damian just continues to stare at you. He's definitely enjoying this way too much. 

His sarcastic reply leaves Damian to ‘tsk.’ “Like I want to be here to see your cracked-out ass, Harper.” 

Roy snorts humorlessly, “Whatever, Boy Wonder.” 

“You confuse me for someone else, Speedy,” it’s spat back in his face with the same malice you'd faced from him mere days ago. 

You’ve never heard these insults before. Maybe the occasional ‘baby bird,’ but not boy wonder. That's Robin... 

Your eyes squint between the two as you analyze their features and compare it to your memories of run-ins with the aforementioned sidekicks. You can practically see the similarities between Roy and the one time you saw Speedy, but you can’t be too sure. All of your remaining comic-related material had been trashed in the break-in, so you aren’t going to be able to able to fact-check yourself at all. 

Damian can see your mind running a mile a minute and swiftly cuts it off before you’re able to come to any conclusions, “I think it’d be better if we talked in private.” 

You narrow your eyes at him.

Traitor. 

“Whatever,” you say before plopping onto the couch next to Roy and Lian. “I’m gonna stick with the coolest person here, then.” 

“That’s me,” Lian says with a smirk that easily rivals Roy’s own. 

You nod. “Mhm.” 

Jason still stands in the kitchen behind Damian’s slightly smaller form. He’d definitely caught up to Jason’s muscular build over the years but was still far leaner.

“Not that you’re not welcome here anytime, babe-cess. Princess,” Roy says, then winces and looks at Jason, who’s already rolling his eyes, “but I thought you said you needed space.”

You sigh, feeling the weight of the past few days, no- hours, sink heavily on your shoulders. You wish Damian would catch them up on everything, but he seems more content to watch you squirm in front of his brother’s family.

“My place was broken into.” You conveniently leave out the part about it being bombed.

“Why didn’t you call us?”

“I’d just left, I didn’t want to disturb you guys. Plus, Roy’s injured and I know what a handful this chickie over here can be…” It’s a lame excuse and you know it. 

“So, if you called Damian, why are you here?” Roy’s voice borders on annoyance, but you're too drained to care. How their pissing match continued so strongly after all these years, you'll never know.

“That I don’t know.” You turn to Damian’s passive form. “Why can’t I just stay at your place, Damian?” You're so confused why it has to be Roy and Jason. Was it really just because of the small tiff on his yacht?

“Because I don’t want you there.” 

Out of all the years, you've known Damian to be crass, honest and just straight up a dick sometimes, but this? This is a whole other level. 

This hurt.

“Jeez, Dami,” it’s Jason who speaks first as he makes his way over toward you and Roy, “she’s your best friend.” 

“Yeah, well, it seems like you’re better friends now," he spits back at his brother. "I’m sure she’ll find the accommodations here just as comfortable.” 

You huff at his absurdity, “Is that what this is really about?” 

You, along with everyone else in the room, know it's not. 

“Whatever.” Damian spins on his heel before you can go off on him. “Call me when you need my yacht again.” 

You glare at his retreating back. “Stop kidding yourself, Damian;” he simply opens the door without looking at you as he leaves, “jealousy never suited you.” He ignores you in favor of loudly slamming the door shut behind him. “Fucking twerp,” you mutter at the closed door with crossed arms. When you turn back around, you find three sets of eyes fixed on you. “What?”

They all nonchalantly go back to watching whatever show had been on before you and Damian burst in. 

You sit down on the arm of the couch closest to Roy and focus on the screen while your mind races. You know you'll have to sleep on their couch, which, you admit, is a lot better than the shit hole you're used to sleeping on, but still. It leaves you no privacy and, especially right now, it isn’t exactly what you need. 

You zone out until you pass out, half standing, half sitting on the arm of the couch with your head lying against the wall. 

“That can’t be comfortable,” a deep voice booms.

“No way,” another responds. 

You shift a bit but ultimately fall back asleep. 

When you wake up, Roy, Lian and Jason are curled together in an adorable pile of cuteness. Your legs are killing, so you stand and move to sit next to the only remaining square left on the couch, which is next to Jason. When you sit, he stirs, but ultimately, his breathing evens back out by the time you get comfortable. 

You curl into yourself and fall back asleep to the sounds of cartoon fighting. 

•••

Never one to stand down from confrontation, you know you need to make an effort to at least have a civil conversation with your best friend. Not to mention the fact that it's been killing you that you haven’t been able to talk to Damian every day like you’ve been used to,

This is how you find yourself at Damian's penthouse that same night. 

When you arrive, you're surprised to find Jon's already here, but he doesn’t stick along much long after you step out of the elevator. 

“I’ll give you two some space.” 

“That’s not necessary,” you say at the same time Damian thanks him. 

You both glare at each other. Jon backs slowly toward the elevator and quickly jabs at the call button. It definitely seems like he wants to get out of here before the bloodshed starts.  

“I think you enjoy your predicament too much,” Damian begins, ignoring the fact that Jon still hasn’t left.

Two can play this game. 

“And what exactly is ‘my predicament’?” You add air quotes around the last part. 

“You like the chase too much.” 

“What the fuck ever that means, Damian.” You know he's hurt about whatever he thinks happened between you in the past, but, in your eyes, you’d just been kids messing around. You never put a label on anything aside from that one week or so during sophomore year. 

Sure, he’d gone through a hell of a lot more puberty since you’d messed around and he still wore the same dreamy cologne, but, ultimately, you could never get past the idea felt more like friends than anything. 

You’d given up a long time ago on trying to pin down the mind of Damian Wayne. 

“Even now,” he interrupts your train of thought with a calm yet cold tone. “You’re trying to win back what was never yours when you already had everything.” 

You sigh at his dumb, cryptic nonsense as you take a step closer to him. He lets you close the space with a clear warning in his hazel eyes.

“What is mine then?” 

He glares down at you like it’s obvious. “Figure it out and, in the meantime,” he ushers you to the elevator doors with a firm grip, “get out.” 

“Damian,” you plead with him, still in his grasp, “just talk to me.” It’s a desperate appeal to a stubborn man like him, but he hesitates just enough for you to remain planted to the ground. 

“I don’t have anything more to say.” He looks at you like you’re an incessant fly he’s swatting at. “Leave.”

It might completely mess everything up you have going for you, but you know it’s what he wants. 

“Kiss me.”

He chuckles darkly, “You really want to prove my point so quickly?”

“I don’t care,” you say, adjusting his grip on your arm to lay on your waist while you bring your arms to caress his cheeks. “Kiss me.” 

His gaze burns into your own as he pulls you into what can only be labeled as an aggressive mashing of lips. Your teeth clank against his in desperation that could only come after years of not having this kind of touch.

It's slightly familiar yet completely foreign at the same time. The features on his face are sharper, his grip firmer and his chest more defined. Sure, you’d kissed Damian as prepubescent kids, but now? Now you're kissing Damian as a man.

You moan breathily when he flicks his tongue upwards. He breaks away suddenly, only to pin you against the metal doors.

“Is this what you wanted?” You gulp at his question, studying his mature face. It had never been like this when you’d been together. It had always been sweet, bordering on unsure, careful. This is purely carnal. You gasp desperately as Damian teases you by placing his lips just above your own. “Answer me,” he demands.

You gaze up at him coquettishly through your lashes. “No,” he pulls back, shocked, but you follow him, drawing him close again, “I want more.”

He presses your forehead to his and growls aggressively, “Fuck you.”

“Yeah,” you say breathlessly as you search his vibrant eyes for any sign of hesitation. 

He groans and pushes away from your flushed form, seeming to contemplate his next move, but ultimately, none comes.

“That was a mistake,” he says finally, voice still dripping in obvious arousal. Boy, do you know it. To add salt to the wound, Damian leans in close again but only to call the elevator. “You’re not wanted here.” You nod, not knowing what to say as the realization of the situation settles over you. “I’ll be asking out Jon tonight. Just know this meant absolutely nothing to me.”

The words hit you like a brick. 

You force yourself to enter the elevator as normally as you can with the remaining shreds of pride you have left. You hit the button twice and dare to meet Damian’s fiery hazel eyes as you leave with your tail between your legs.

In the end, the kiss merely prolonged your time with him by a minute (if that) and cost you the last of your sanity.

What were you thinking?

You’ve gone back on everything you came to do and, at the same time, validated Damian’s harsh words. If you wanted to end things, why did you end up leading him on?

And now you're going back to sleep between Jason and Roy.

Your stomach sinks.

Is this what Damian had wanted you to see?

Is this what you needed to see for yourself?

•••

“Roy had an emergency,” Jason answers your unasked question as you enter and slip off your shoes. “Where did you go?”

“I had some unfinished business, I guess.”

“Damian.” You nod and move to sit beside him. “Any luck making up?”

You laugh bitterly, “His nickname's still hellspawn for a reason, right?”

"Well," Jason’s eyes crinkle slightly in amusement, “regardless of his asshole nature, you’re always welcome here.”

You hesitate slightly. “You sure?” 

“Of course,” he says before moving to rub your shoulders. It’s only in this moment that you realize how tense they've become. “Kind of jinxed it with what you said this morning about sleeping with us and adopting Lian, though.”

Is Jason joking around with you?

You smile lightly. “You’re right.”

You sit there in silence for a bit as the TV plays in the background. There aren’t many times where it’s just been you and Jason. This, coupled with your angsty relationship, means you aren’t used to not bickering with him. Today, you definitely don’t have the energy to, something he seems to understand as he easily gives you your space. 

It only lasts for so long, though, before you need to spill. 

“I shouldn’t have gone there. It didn’t help anything.” Jason doesn’t say anything but rather turns down the volume on the TV and shifts to face you. It’s such a dad thing to do. You refrain from rolling your eyes, but just barely. “He’s still upset with me.”

“About what?” he asks.

You sigh and tell him about the yacht fiasco, which you refer to by name, leaving Jason to mutter something about him being too rich. You chuckle in agreement. 

“So, what happened when you went over there?” It's a non-pointed question, but you feel under the gun as you blush at the wanton kiss you shared. “You fucked?”

You choke on your spit, leaving him to pat you on your back. 

“Fuck no.” Jason raises a skeptical eyebrow, but you wave him off. “We just kissed,” you trail off with embarrassment.

“Did you like it?”

“Jason!” You look at him in bewilderment. Why would he care?

“What? You brought it up,” he says with a shrug, leaving you to settle back down.

Did you like it? Sure. Did you want to kiss him and Roy more? Holy fuck yes.

“It was alright.”

“So,” he starts slowly like he was contemplating even saying it out loud, “did you guys ever end up dating after I left?” 

“Why do you care?” 

“I don’t!” he says a bit too quickly for you to believe. 

He’s nervous, but you don’t understand why. You gave him information about you and Damian in hopes that it might lead to him opening up with you, but it still seems like you’re just met with walls.

“We did.” 

He nods as if he expected it. “You were the only girl to ever put up with his stank-ass attitude.” 

You laugh, “We only dated for like a week.” You can’t help but shake your head fondly at the memory. “It was so weird, so we just went right back to being friends. We were just too young to know what we were doing... At least, that's how I felt.” 

Now it's Jason’s turn to raise his brow and call you on your bluff. “Just friends?” 

 “Shut up.” He sits up further, no longer feigning disinterest as he motions you to go on. This is the most you and Jason have spoken ever since high school. He seems to know it, too, because his eyes hold a certain saccharine nostalgia in them. “It was sophomore year and, well, you know what happened after the incident,” you say, absentmindedly tracing over your scar as you recount all those years prior.

“You mean you guys did end up fucking that night?�� His mouth upturns amicably, but you can see it's forced. “And poor Alfred probably had to hear the whole thing? Oh, man, that’s rich.” 

“Shut the fuck up,” you move closer to him to push his shoulder with your own, “and fuck you for bringing Alfred into this.”

You completely forgot about that awkward breakfast after your sleepover, suddenly remembering how the silence lingered heavier after the incident. You weren't exactly focused on staying quiet that night and after hearing Jason confirm the two of you had been heard. You wish the memory would get the fuck out of your head this instant. 

“I think that was you, babe.” 

You jolt back a bit at the nickname, not realizing how close you’d been getting.

He’d been getting more and more comfortable using it ever since you moved in with them and you couldn’t bring it upon yourself to hate it at all. If anything, it was the complete opposite. You ate it up and reveled in the familiarity you’d been lacking for so many years, desperately taking it in every chance you got.

Maybe Damian's right.

“Whatever.” You aren’t in the mood to reminisce anymore, but you feel the need to defend your past self. “We had our clothes on.” 

“Oh.” 

“Yeah,” you sigh. “We did eventually fuck, though.” You wait to see a reaction of some kind to the news.

“Oh?” He looks into your eyes with something you can actually place for once. 

Jealousy.

“Mhm.” You liked seeing Jason unsure and a bit uncomfortable, considering this is how they left you a lot of the time. It's pure payback. “He was my first kiss, after all.” Jason scrunches his face briefly before schooling it, but you’d already seen it. “What?!”

The library... It can't be real.

Damian was your first kiss.

The library was just a fucked up dream- nothing more.

“Nothing.” 

The way he shrugs is way too nonchalant for you to actually believe him. You push forward, feeling your mind race after his reaction until, eventually, anxiety settles over you.

You’ve always thought you might've kissed Jason and Roy in the library that one night but had always assumed it was just a dream after having drank way more than you should have. And smoked, you remind yourself.

“You can’t just not tell me.” You’re up in his face now with a glare. “Jason, tell me,” you demand.  

The door suddenly clicks open to reveal Roy and Lian walking in, complete with a bag of groceries. You bolt back to the other side of the couch, looking guiltily in Roy’s direction. You didn't realize how close your face had gotten to Jason's until you separated.  

“Woooah!” Roy exclaims and throws his covered-up prosthetic hand over her eyes. “In front of our child, Jason?” 

Jason just rolls his eyes. “She says Damian was her first kiss,” he says tonelessly, still not revealing anything. 

Roy snorts, lowering his arm to help Lian take off her coat. You anxiously await if he’ll divulge anymore, but he merely begins to put away the contents of the bag.

 “You’re funny,” Roy finally says. 

“Me?” You point to yourself, feeling like you're about to get ganged up on. Great, just like old times.

“Yeah you, princess.” 

You wish someone would just come out already and say it so you can bury yourself in a hole for the rest of... well, forever. 

“It’s not like I don’t remember anything.” You look between the two of them with uncharacteristic shyness. “So will one of you fu-dge monkeys,” you nod in Lian’s direction and she nods back, “just tell me what happened?” 

“Man, I wish I still drank,” Roy bemoans. “Jason, you want one? This seems like a tipsy convo.” Lian squeezes into the empty space between you and the arm of the couch while Roy flips down in between you and Jason, handing each of you a beer. “Gotta set the mood right.” 

“Who was I on top of?” You squint your eyes, not wanting them to drag this out any further. 

“Who weren’t you on top of?” Jason replies with a sly sip. 

You glare at both of them, waiting for one of them to say ‘sike.’ 

“Fine then, you just sorta…” He looks at Roy for support, but Roy's too busy giving both of you his biggest shit-eating grin to offer any. “Crawled towards us and -”

Roy cut him off with a wicked smirk, “Came to big pops first. Yeah, you knew what you wanted.” Roy gestures down his body obnoxiously, leaving you to groan in absolute agony. 

So, your dream hadn’t been a dream at all.

You choke, turning your head to Jason, “I- you…” 

It’s Jason’s turn to look flustered. “Yeah.”

You turn back to Roy. “So, who put the blanket on me?” 

He laughs, “Not us, that’s for sure.” 

“Fucking assholes.” Not just about the blanket thing, but the teasing, too.

Lian shoots up from beside you. “Hey!” she chastises.

“I’ll let you braid my hair if you promise not to say those words,” you glance between Roy and Jason before slyly adding the last part, “and candy.”  

“Deal.”

You shake on it and the pulling begins soon after. 

Roy picks up the conversation where it'd left off. “Bet it was Damian who put it on you. He was always such a simp for you,” Roy says, not understanding why you and Jason blush the way you do. “Wait- what’d I miss?” 

“Nothing?” you say, attempting to feign ignorance, but Roy refuses to let it go.

“So, you guys did kiss then.” He finally pieces it together.

“Well, it shouldn't be too much of a surprise when we already know you orgasmed on Roy the first chance you got.” You smack the shit out of Jason’s arm, leaving him to groan and rub at the spot. “What? I thought we all knew?” 

Roy is sent into a fit of laughter as you crumble to the floor.

“This is so much worse than when it was just Roy teasing me about it,” you groan. “Besides, you guys have nothing to worry about with Damian. He obviously hates me now,” you lament, but the last part seems to fall on deaf ears.

Roy ignores the last part of your statement to fluster you, “You know, if you’d been older, it definitely would’ve been hot.” 

You twist your head so fast in his direction you think it might fall off. 

Is that a blatant invitation? 

You are a lot older now, which is very clear with how they both kept eyeing you up and down in your revealing outfit. Still, some part of you fears they still only see you as Jason’s little brother’s friend. 

“Roy, what?” 

He looks dead serious. 

You turn to Jason, who's lightly chuckling at your beet-red blush. 

“Come on, we’re all adults here,” the redhead says your name with a wicked glint in his eye. “Shared a bed and everything, princess. You’re practically a member of the family; it’s settled.” It has to be the alcohol, you surmise. That's the only logical explanation for Roy coming on to you so blatantly in front of his boyfriend. Wait, but Roy doesn’t even drink, so that means he's not even… Wait what? “You know, if you’re still feeling confused about what happened that night in the library, we could always recreate it,” he continues to tease you. “Or, if you’re feeling particularly spicy, Jay still has a bike." He waggles his eyebrows obnoxiously.

You pretend to gag. “You’re still such a man whore, Roy; it’s crazy.” 

“Mmm, call me whore again, baby.” 

This is too much even for Jason, who cringes from the other side of Roy. “Too thick, dude.”

"Whatever, love," Roy sighs and flops his arms behind his head. “At least one of us has to try.”

“Try what?” you ask confused. To flirt with you? 

“It’s dumb;” Jason shakes his head as he glares at Roy, “he’s dumb.” 

You quickly come to his defense, “No, he’s not.” 

“You did all my homework for a whole year,” he says your name pointedly. 

“I did not!” you insist. “I just helped!” You're met with a deadpan stare. “You would’ve written the same things. We just… spruced it up, is all.”

More staring.

“Princess,” Roy says frankly. “You and Jay over there got me A’s on every paper,” You go to retort but are cut off by a long yawn that leaves Jason to yawn as well. “Aw, bedtime for babies?” Roy coos in an unironic babied voice. You and Jason smack him on the shoulder at the same time with the same disgusted look. “What?!” he exclaims in embarrassment, smacking you both back on the shoulders in retaliation.

“Nothing.” You smirk coyly at his pouting puppy-dog-face. “Just really shows how much of a dad you are now.”

“Don’t pretend you don’t like it, babe." Surprisingly, it's Jason who’s teasing you this time.

“Whatever,” you reply in lieu of an actual response. You're way too flustered to trust yourself to continue with this conversation. “I need to go see what survived the bomb.”

The mood shifts instantly as you get up and rifle through the last remaining suitcase of your things, only to see a majority of it being athleisure clothes and your lingerie. You quickly stuff the latter back inside. You sputter, turning around to see Jason and Roy straighten and face forward to act as nonchalant as possible, but you know they’ve seen every single lacy panty you own. 

You want to die. 

With the way things have been going, you might not have to hold your breath for long.

...Too morbid? Considering recent circumstances, maybe not.

“If you need some clothes, just let us know,” Jason’s voice is slightly clipped with what you take to mean embarrassment, considering his eyes remain forcibly locked onto the screen.

“Can I borrow some PJs again?” you ask while zipping your bag back up before following behind Jason to haul it into their room.

“You just keep finding excuses to wear our shit, huh?” Nonetheless, he retreats to the dresser in their room.

It’s then that you notice Lian beckoning you into her room.

“What’s up?” you ask, abandoning your heavy ass suitcase on the floor to follow after her.

She climbs onto her bed and motions toward her Superman book. “Will you read to me?”

“Please?” you prompt her lightly.

She yawns, “Please.” 

You smile and tuck her in before sitting on the edge, which was now where she preferred you to read as opposed to the floor. “Alright, but only because you have such good manners.”

“I’m always polite and I never curse.”

You laugh, “Yes, that’s good.” You open the book and she wiggles down in her sheets to smoosh her feet against your thigh. “Polite kids get bedtime stories every night.”

“Really?” she whispered excitedly.

“Mhm.” 

“Does this mean you don’t get bedtime stories?” She cocks her head at you quizzically.

“Lian!” you chastise with a gentle laugh. “Do you want me to read or not?” 

She huffs lightly, pulling the covers up over her mouth. You can’t help but chuckle at the sight. 

You finish reading to her, not realizing the two of you have an audience until she speaks over your head, “Is she going to be my mommy for every day now?”

“Huh?” You're confused for .2 seconds. That is, until you hear familiar chuckling coming from behind you say as Jason and Roy chuckle. You whip around with flushed cheeks, but Jason merely hands you another t-shirt and a set of boxers. “How long have you guys been here?”

“Since Lian called you out for cursing,” Jason answers with a wry smirk.

“Awesome.” You roll your eyes and set the book on her nightstand before flipping off her light. “Now, we need to shoo before the bedtime story atmosphere I’ve created gets ruined any further.” You shoot them a look that says, ‘do you really want to get your daughter riled up again?’

“Alright, come on then, babe.” 

Roy’s already disappeared, but Jason waits for you to walk past before shutting the door silently behind you with a final air kiss to Lian. You watch her catch it sleepily and catch yourself beaming.

You quickly wipe it from your face before Jason can see.

This is way too domestic.

Roy's already in bed, complete with... another long sleeve.

He really doesn't want you to see his arm, but why?

You quietly get dressed in the bathroom before finally confronting him.

“Do you always wear long sleeves to bed?” When what you actually wanted to ask was, ‘do you always wear long sleeves, or just when I'm around?’ You sincerely hope it's not the latter.

He stills for a brief moment as he considers his next words carefully, “It’s a me thing, if that makes sense.”

He's self-conscious around you. How could you misunderstand that?

You subconsciously touch the inverted triangle scar on your throat. “Yeah.”

Only problem is, you’ve never been self-conscious to show them your insecurities. On the other hand, it seems like all they've ever done is hide, well, everything from you. 

Jason’s the one who signals you over.

You lose your train of thought immediately as you crawl in between the two of them for the second night in a row. You can't help but blush, thinking back to your earlier activities on their bed. You hope neither of them notices, but know it’d be hard not to see your embarrassment when you're all currently this close.

Jason turns off the light but doesn’t move to face the wall this time. Your stomach flips when he elects to face you and Roy, watching with his unreadable emerald eyes as Roy pats at your hip for you to lie down, too. You oblige easily. 

Roy quickly wraps himself around you and hisses when his legs come into contact with your own, “Fucking reptiles, man, I swear.” 

Jason’s gaze hasn’t left yours since turning around, leaving you to shrink into Roy’s firm stomach self-consciously. It’s only as he’s wrapping his arms around you that you produce a shaky exhale under Jason’s continued scrutiny. 

If your visit with Damian taught you anything, it's that you need things to be clear.

Even though Roy's arms are around you, you want to be sure.

“Is this okay with you?” You don’t want any more miscommunications. After all, look what that's done for you over the years.

“Is that why you’re looking at me like I’m going to hit you?”

“Am not,” you gulp lightly at his question.

He sighs, “Of course it is, babe. We wouldn't offer otherwise. Now, get some sleep.”

He doesn’t shut his eyes, though, so you continue to stare back, not exactly sure of what's happening between the two of you. Not even a minute later, Roy begins to snore into your hair. 

You and Jason silently laugh, causing heat to bust across your cheeks at the intimacy of the situation. You don’t think you’ll ever get used to being spoiled like this, but god, are you enjoying every millisecond of it.

“Go to sleep,” Jason whispers your name.

Your heart flutters, but you do obey. You close your eyes and obey, stirring only slightly when he shifts closer so his breath gently fans across your forehead.

You get the best night of sleep you’ve ever had.

A/N: drops this and runs yall lmaooo

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