#as if he had a choice???? he MADE his choice

[gojonanami]

❝ 𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐀 𝐅𝐔𝐂𝐊 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐘𝐎𝐔, 𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐌𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐔𝐏 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐘𝐎𝐔 !! ❞

❝ WHEN YOUR EX HUSBAND FINDS OUT YOU'RE DATING AGAIN, HOW DO YOU END UP FUCKING HIM IN YOUR BED ?? ❞

✧ pairing: ex-husband!satoru gojo x f!reader

✧ summary: satoru gojo is the man everyone wants, except you -- well you married him and you wanted him, but when he pushed you away after you had your daughter, you had no choice but to divorce him. so what happens when he comes to pick up your daughter for his weekend, and he finds you ready for a date? and how is it you always end up under him?

✧ warnings: 18+, nsfw, so much smut, exes to lovers, modern au! (no curses), gojo is a CEO of a company, gojo has a daughter with you, divorced, some angst, switch! gojo, nipple play, oral (f + m), fingering (f! receiving), handjob (m! receiving), semi public sex (near entryway), semi exhibitionism, sex (p in v), creampie, swearing,

✧ wc: 8,271

“You were supposed to be here at 6:00 PM,” 

Satoru Gojo stood in your doorway, as opposed to splashed on the covers of magazines and countless front page articles — you would think it would be business magazines, but you would only be partially correct — he made the covers of business, fashion, health, entertainment, and even a few women’s magazines. 

And what every single one had made apparent in their colorful print was that Satoru Gojo was anyone’s ideal man — the CEO of the wildly successful Six Eyes Corp, a philanthropist in his free time spent mentoring children and teenagers through establishing proper programs, and he was flawlessly beautiful — ocean blue eyes you could drown in, porcelain skin seemingly without a blemish or scar, and pretty lips that were a weapon when curled in a smirk. 

Just as they were now. 

“Well,” he smirks, leaning against your door frame, “I’m sure it’s 6:00 PM somewhere,” 

“Well, I’m not concerned with somewhere else since you daughter exists here, not elsewhere,” your words lacked their usual bite, only tinged with annoyance rather than cutting anger, “but good thing I told you to be here an hour and half earlier than I needed you,” 

Needed him as just as you did before you had divorced — just as you asked him to be. But he only grew more distant by the day — and soon he was already out the door when you had served him with divorce papers. 

And now, you can almost forget how it used to be — your eyes catch sight of the picture on your mantle of the two of you with your daughter, Satoru’s lips pressed to your cheeks as yours were pressed to your little angel — almost. 

He gapes at you as you walk inside, as he follows behind you, the click of the door closing overshadowed by the sound of his voice. 

“How could you lie to me, sweetheart? Thought we had a bond of trust,” you don’t have to look back at him to know he has a pout on his lips that would quickly melt into a grin if you conceded. 

“Bond of trust ended when you showed up two hours late to pick up our daughter,” and he grumbles, cheeks tinged with pink. 

“That was one time! I’m never that late. And it’s only on a Fridays when I have—“ 

“Meetings all day,” you finish with a sigh, “I know, Gojo, I know it’s not on purpose — but I know you’re always late on Fridays so I found a solution,” your lips curl, “anyway, our girl is napping still, so give her a bit before you wake her, but you can stay here until she does,” you’re shrugging off your bathrobe, littered with flecks of makeup, only to have a gorgeous black dress underneath. 

One that he very much hadn’t seen before — and he would know, he’s explored every centimeter very intimately of each one of your dresses, but this is new. His eyes skim down the exposed skin of your thighs — very new, but very familiar. 

He’s running fingers through his hair, not bothering to hide how his gaze rakes over his body, “Special occasion? Don’t tell me your birthday suddenly moved months, or I forgot our anniversary,” 

You scoff, as you pick out earrings from your jewelry box,  “Does an anniversary count when you’re divorced?” you can’t hide the hint of bitterness in your voice, and he’s stepping closer as you look in your vanity to put your earrings on, only to meet his gaze in the mirror, deep blue sucking you in as it always does. 

“But you’ll always be mine,” and you roll your eyes, expecting a cheeky grin, but find genuine longing in his expression, before it's hidden away behind a frown, “but you still haven’t told me where you’re going, sweetheart,” 

A sigh stuck in your throat, ignoring the use of your usual pet name that he had lost the rights when the ink dried on your divorce, as your teeth graze your bottom lip, “I have a date tonight,” 

He tilts his head, “A date?” and you can already hear it in his voice — ice creeping over usually still waters, “who’s the lucky guy? And do I get to meet him?” 

“And have you scare him off?” And he only grins in reply, hands slipping into his pockets. 

“If he’s intimidated by me, isn’t that more on him than me, sweetheart?” His footsteps only grow closer, as you turn to look at him, his hand on the wood of your vanity, nearly caging you in on side, “after all, he may be your date, but I’ll always be your husband, and the father of our daughter,” 

You didn’t know whether you wanted to kiss him or slap him — slapping him was self explanatory, but the want to kiss him was a lingering feeling, one that you couldn’t shed — no matter how much time passed. But that was the thing about Satoru Gojo — it was easy to fall in love with him, but even harder to fall out. 

And a part of you could never admit to yourself that you never did. 

No matter how hard you try.

“You haven’t been my husband for a year and half now, Gojo — a year legally now,” 

And he’s changing tactics, “You still haven’t answered my question, who are you going on a date with?” And you already can feel the beginning of a headache throbbing in your forehead, and you know why no one could say no to Satoru Gojo — because you’re sure he’s never understood it. 

“Why do you need to know?” And he's tilting his head, a small scoff parting his lips. 

“I need to know who you're potentially bringing home, don’t I?” and he’s far too close, and you don’t know why you’re not pulling away — his breath warming your skin, as he drags a finger down your cheek, “The man who might step foot in our home, might meet our daughter,” and his thumb brushes over your lips, “might kiss my wife—“ 

“Gojo—“ 

“Satoru,” he corrects you. 

You rub at your temples — yup, you definitely have a headache now. You brush past him, heading to the living room to pick up some of the mess, hoping your ex would somehow fall and hit his head on the doorframe and forget this conversation.

“And this dress?” Ah, no such luck, “did you buy it for the date?” 

“Do you keep a catalog of my wardrobe?” you scowl as you pick up the strewn about toys and things to collect into your daughter’s toy bin, and he’s bending down too to pick up your daughter’s things in his hundred thousand yen suit. 

“So you didn’t deny it,” and you sigh again, but grit your teeth all the same, his sharp words finely grating on your nerves. 

“This isn’t a business negotiation, you don’t win just because you use my words against me,” you stand up after picking up the last of the things, “yes it’s a new dress, and yes I bought it for the date since this is my first date in years, happy?” 

“Thrilled,” he says flatly, and you know it’s not the end of the discussion, “remember our first date?” 

And how could you forget? But you decide to humor him, if only for a break from the interrogation. 

“Which one? Because one was a date, and the other—“ 

He raises an eyebrow, “It was a date too, I asked you out—“ 

“You asked me to hang out—“ 

“And we kissed—“ 

“Only because I told you how I felt first—“ and he smirks again and you know you’ve dug yourself into a hole, cheeks burning at his stupidly smug face, “shut up,” 

“And what did you say again?” He slips the things you have in your hands into the toy box, his fingers brushing yours, and his touch is the same as you remember, even the barest brush was enough for your traitorous soul to yearn for more. 

“You know what I said,” his lips curl, the same smile he had given you all those years ago that made you fall for him in the first place, but his raise of his brow tells you he’s not going to let it go until you say it, “I told you that I liked you for a long time, and I was tired of waiting for you to make the first move. Because maybe by then it would be too late,” and his fingers brush against your cheek, featherlight — just as the bunches of butterflies that bloom in your stomach. 

“And you say that wasn’t a date,” and you scoff, biting back the small smile on your lips, “will any other first date compare to that?” 

“Gojo—“ 

“Satoru,” he corrects, and you know his brow is furrowed without having to look at him, “do you have to call me by my last name—“ 

“I do, because Satoru was my husband, and Gojo is my ex—“ 

“I’m still your husband—“ and you give a bitter chuckle. 

“In what world? We’re divorced, it’s over,“ 

“It doesn’t have to be,” 

“But it does. This isn’t me confessing to you on a movie night curled up on my twin bed. This is my ex-husband asking me to give him another chance far too late,” you slip past him, but he follows behind anyway, as you stand near the entryway to your home,  “it’s time to move on,” and you’re stepping from your bedroom and only reach the doorway when he speaks. 

“How can I move on when I never wanted to?” You still yourself in your tracks, fingers curling into a fist. 

Not this right now. Not now. “Gojo—“ you sigh. 

You’re so tired. You were hoping you wouldn’t have to have this conversation. You never had expected to have this conversation, not when you wanted to only marry one man your entire life was the one to break your heart. 

“It's almost two years too late for this conversation,” you willed your voice not to break — not when your heart was long broken by him, and you wouldn’t allow him to do it again, “you should have had it with me before I filed. When I asked you to spend your time with us, when I asked you to take time off, when I asked you to be present in our lives—“ 

“Sweetheart-“ and you snap. 

“Don’t call me that,” your quiet words hang in the silence, the wedding bells he heard in his head were nothing more than the sounds of bells drowning out the mourners screams, “don’t call me that when you don’t get to anymore,” 

“I’ll always be yours, sweetheart, a few papers don’t change that,” and he’s stepping towards you, but you’re rooted to your spot, and you want to say it’s stubbornness, but you know what it really is —weakness, because Satoru Gojo was your one and only weakness. And even now, walls raised and erected against him came tumbling down with one touch. 

Because he knew exactly where to touch and what to say. 

“Do you think any other man could please you the way I can? I know every place, every sound, every inch of you — inside and out,” he’s nearly against your back now, “are you going to let a stranger do that? Let them learn how to please you, but knowing your husband knows how to do it better,” 

“Ex-husband,” and he’s leaning down to press a kiss to your bare shoulder, “we shouldn’t—“ 

“And yet you’re letting me,” his nose brushes against the soft skin of your neck, warm breath sending a shiver down to the tips of your toes, and his words sending a wave of need right to your core, “because you know it’s true,” his hands tentatively brush against your hips and when you don’t resist, he squeezes, drawing a gasp from you, lips curled in a smirk, “more sensitive than usual, Princess? Been too long?” 

“I swear to god—“ he’s cutting you off with a bruising kiss, a rubber band snapping back against your skin, and now it’s taut against you, ensnaring you in its grasp. And yet, his kiss is so sweet, affection dripping from the slide of lips to the caress of his fingers against your cheek, and it reminds you of just why you don’t want to let go. 

“You don’t have to swear yourself to me, but I’d appreciate it, Princess,” and his mouth reminds you of the reason you (and that you don’t). 

“Gojo—“ and he’s placing more kisses along your jaw now. 

“Shouldn’t you at least call me Satoru now that we’ve kissed?” 

“You’re impossible—“ 

“And yet I’m here,” his teeth nibbles at the juncture of your neck and shoulder, tongue flicking over the blooming love bite, “almost forgot how sweet you taste,” he’s humming, as he kisses along your shoulder before he toys with the strap of your dress, “almost,” his large palms slide down your body, skimming your bare thighs as he’s pressing you against the walls, “but your skin isn’t what I want to taste,” 

You gasp, “we can’t—“ but why were you letting him? Irritation overrode by lust, and he knew the spots to make you bend to him, his hands squeezing your hips, “fuck you,” you wonder if his touch are phantoms engraved against your skin and muscles, forced to repeat the same patterns again and again — and a hand slides back up to cup your cheek. 

“That’s what I’m trying to do, sweetheart,” his lips find yours again, his tongue dragging against the seam of your lips, before slipping inside. His hand is lifting your thigh around his waist, as his lips part from your own, eyes raking over your pretty, bitten red lips, “do you know how much I missed you?” 

“No, I don’t,” and his smile slips from his lips, as he cups your chin, “Satoru—“ 

“Even all the days I was gone, there wasn’t a second I didn’t think of you,” you waver a moment at the sadness rippling through his gaze, “I know I wasn’t there—“ his lips press a kiss to your forehead. 

“Why weren’t you?” 

And that’s when there’s a knock at the door that makes your heads snap over to stare at the door a good four or five feet from you, the shadow of feet visible through the crack at the bottom of the door, and you were sure it was your date. 

“Fuck,” you whsiper under your breath, “you have to go—“ your palms pressed flat against his chest, but Satoru doesn’t budge, “please, I have to get the—“ 

And his hand is slipping up and under your dress, hiking the material higher, “do you really want to go on your date like this, sweetheart?” His fingers graze your soaked panties, a gasp pulled from your lips, lithe fingers rubbing and pinching your clit through the thin fabric, “gonna go see him when you’re this wet?”

“Please—“ and his fingers snap the elastic of your underwear against your skin, drawing a squeal from your mouth, “fuck—“ 

“Any louder, Princess, and he might hear us,” he’s leaning down to press his forehead to yours, forcing your gaze to meet yours, “but maybe I should let him, let him know who’s the only one who can make you feel this good,” his words only make your cunt flutter, as if your body was in agreement, even if your mind was still in denial, “you’re much more honest down here, Princess, but you always were,”

Another knock as your attention is being tugged only for him to yank it back as his finger slips inside you. You’re burying your face in the crook of his neck to stifle your moans — his fingers were so much longer than yours, reaching places you could only have dreamed of — when you had dreamed of him. 

His finger squelches as he fucks you open, walls squeezing around him as your molten insides cling to his touch desperately. Small whines and pants are muffled against your hand as you clamp it over, your phone vibrating uselessly with your date’s messages inside your purse. 

“Please, Satoru let me—“ and he’s ripping your underwear, as he’s forcing your dress higher, “I have to tell him—“ 

“Tell him what?” His eyes are nearly glowing in the dim light of the fluorescents leaking in from the living room, “tell him you’d go on your date with him but you’re too busy being finger fucked by your husband?” And he’s sinking another finger into you, making your head loll back against the wall, “tell him that you’d let him fuck you in our bed, but you’re too busy letting me?” 

“Sa-toru—“ you’re biting back your whines, glancing at the door, but he’s forcing your gaze back to him, his thumb pressed against your chin, “just let me—“ 

And he’s turning you in front of the mirror near the entryway, forcing you to look at yourself — your lips kiss bitten and ruined, your dress hiked up and mussed, and underwear tugged down to your ankles. 

“Do you want him to see you like this?” His breath is hot in your ear, a soft murmur that makes your knees nearly buckle, “want him to see you how much of a mess I’ve made you?” His fingers sink into you again, a third finger with the other two. The lewd squelch of your cunt rings in your ears, your eyes catching sight of your own moans and pants in the mirror, your walls squeezing around them, “I’m the only one who gets to see you like this, sweetheart, and now you can watch too,” he’s guiding your gaze back to watch yourself, watching him knuckle deep in your sweet cunt, “gonna make you watch your tight pussy break my fingers,” he spreads his fingers inside you, letting you watch your slice drip down his fingers and wrist and splatter on the floor.

And your head falls back against his shoulder — he’s thrusting into you faster, your walls working deeper and deeper into you — fingers curling against your molten insides, until he’s finding that one spot that has your lips falling open, “I’m so—” your voice is a broken whisper, and he’s pressing a kiss to your jaw, “Please—“ 

“Cum f’me baby,” his thumb rubs at your clit, and you do, walls clamping down as you cum, his fingers relentless as they fuck you through your orgasm, a wordless moan of his name on your lips. He’s holding you up as he does, your body buckling under the pleasure, blood roaring in your ears that slowly ebbs away, as his fingers slow, and you’re shuddering under his touch, “good girl,” and your walls flutter as he pulls out as if they want him to stay, and he’s tilting your gaze, “watch,” your eyes open reluctantly, a small moan on your lips as you watch him carefully each one of his fingers clean, pink tongue darting out to lick at the trails of your juices that had dripped down his palm and wrist, “still the sweetest thing I’ve had, princess,” 

And there’s another knock, as he clicks his tongue, “Doesn’t give up does he?” and he’s pressing a kiss to your neck, “must have really done a number on him and he’s willing to wait this long for you, huh?” he hums, nuzzling the hollow of your throat, “but I can relate. So, should I let him down for you?” 

Your eyes fly open, meeting his cheeky gaze with a glare, “Don’t you fucking dare,” 

“What? You still want to go out with him? Be my guest, but,” and he’s pulling at your ruined underwear until they rip under his touch, “can’t wear these, can you?” you gape at him as he pockets the ruined panties with a shit eating grin, “for later,” and you’re scoffing, and you hear a call of your name through the door. 

And you take a better look at yourself — completely disheveled and marked up along your neck from his kisses and nips, your skin shiny with a sheen of sweat, and your lips obviously bruised and bitten from his treatment. 

“Fuck,” you can’t go out like this — it looks as if you’d spent the morning before getting ravished, panic sets in as you hear his voice through the door. 

“Want me to send him on his way?” Satoru’s hands curl around your waist, “our angel’s still fast asleep, and that means we can spend some time together—“ 

“Fuck off,” you hiss, walking over to the door, “Atsuya, I’m sorry I can’t go out today. I’m not feeling well,” 

“Eh? Are you okay? Do you need anything?” And Satoru steps forward to speak but you cover his mouth with his hand. 

“No, I’m fine, but I have the flu and I’m still contagious, so I don’t want to get you—“ Satoru drags his tongue between your fingers — this fucker, “sick,” 

“Are you sure you don’t want me to stay and take care of you?” Satoru’s hands are dragging over your sides, squeezing your far too sensitive hips. 

“Hear that?” Satoru’s whispering to you between the gaps of your fingers, “He wants to take care of you. Should you let him? Maybe he could fuck you better in the home we bought together and in the bed we shared,” 

“No, I’m fine, really, I-I—“ and Satoru’s sucking at your finger, tongue curling around the digit, and you grit your teeth, “I’m going to rest. I’ll text you later, I’m sorry—“ and you don’t get to hear the rest of what he says, as Satoru’s pulling your hand away, and finding your lips in another kiss. 

You hate how good this man is at kissing, his lips and touch must have the ability to leech sense from your brain, and leave lust in its place. 

“What’s wrong with you?” you mumble against his lips, as his lips burn a trail of kisses down your jaw, a smirk against your skin. 

“Nothing’s wrong with me, except that I love you,” he’s pouting again, “you think that guy could please you the way I could?” 

“No, but maybe he would actually be there,” you bite back and his kisses pause, smirk slipping into a frown. 

“I know I’ve made mistakes—“ 

You give a bitter chuckle, “Mistakes? You left us,” 

He opens and closes his mouth, “you’re right I did, and I’m sorry,” his words are slow, but so is the anger building inside you, “but I’m asking for a second chance, begging for one more chance—“ 

You finally turn to face him, and you can only hope the tears welling in your eyes weren’t noticeable, “You don’t get to beg, when I already did,” your voice finally breaks, as your clenched fist shakes, “where were you? After our daughter was born, you were gone. You kept saying you would make time for us, you would be there for us, but you just busier and busier, and the only time I’d see you were the nights you made it home to crawl into bed,” 

“I—“ 

“No, I’m tired, I’m tired of waiting and being upset, I’m so done—“ and he’s pulling you into his arms, and the familiarity of his grasp is nearly enough for your defenses to crumble, but you can’t, “Satoru” 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I know I did wrong. I know I don’t deserve you or our baby, not after all I did,” he’s murmuring, “but it was never because of you or her,” 

Tears spill from your eyes, streaming down your cheeks, “I used to cry, thinking that not only that I wasn’t enough, but your daughter wasn’t enough either—“ 

“You weren’t the ones that wasn’t enough,” he cuts you off, “I am,” the last words come out a whisper, as he runs fingers through his hair, “I’m the one who wasn’t good enough,” 

You stare at him, “What do you mean?” 

He’s scrubbing a hand down his face, “I don’t know how to be a husband, much less a father. I didn’t think I even wanted to be either, until I met you,” his voice softens, “and then I wanted it all if it was with you,” 

“Satoru—“ and he’s shaking his head. 

“I thought I could handle it — but when I saw you two — the two most important people in my life — how much you were counting on me, how much you needed me to not fail — I threw myself into work,” he’s swallowing, “I thought if I could support you both, things would get better. But it only made things worse because I pushed myself away,” 

“Why?”

“Because I thought I’d mess it up — I don’t know how to be a father. I didn’t even know I wanted to be a husband until we got married,” and you swallow, “I thought I never would after watching my dad neglect and abuse me and my mom,” you knit your brow together, “and there were so many nights when you were sleeping, I got so frustrated with our angel. She wouldn’t sleep, she screamed for hours, and I just felt like I had failed her. And I would just fail you too,” he scrubbed a hand down his face, “so—“  

“So you ran away,” you finish, voice caught in your throat. 

He gives a curt nod, “And when you filed, I knew it was coming, but I thought you both would be better off. I thought even if I was miserable, it would be worth it to see you two happy—“ 

“Satoru, do you think I would be happy without my husband?” Your sigh stuck in your throat as your fingers find his cheek, featherlight, but he crumbles and melts against it, as if he was a statue made to wait for your touch, “you’re nothing like your father. I see you with Satomi, I see how much you love her — you dote on her, you know what she likes — she gets a cut and you’re panicking,” you chuckle as he huffs, a cute blush settling over his cheeks, “and you were a good husband, when you talked to me and didn’t run away,” 

“I know,” and the question unspoken hangs in the air, “can I be again? Your husband,” and your instinct is to pull him into your arms, where you wanted him to be, where you always wanted to be, but your instinct is tangled in fear, barbed wire dragging you down and digging into your skin. 

“I want you to be,” his eyes light up, hope flicking across his gaze like a comet tail, until it burns out with your next words, “but I’m scared,” you swallow, arms crossed, hoping if you physically hold yourself maybe you could hold yourself together, “I don’t want to get hurt again,” 

“I won’t, I promise,” he’s cupping your cheek again, and you find yourself leaning into his touch, “every night I only thought of you and Satomi — there’s no one else that matters,” he’s drawing closer again, it makes you want nothing more than his touch again — it had been too long — too long without him. 

And your lips find his again, it’s a chaste kiss at first, a breath shared a centimeter apart, as his eyes find yours, brow furrowed, “We have a lot to talk about,” you murmur, as your lips graze his again, and he’s chasing your lips, “but it’s going to take time,” God, you want to kiss his knowing pout away, as you drag a thumb down his lips, “a lot of making up to me and our angel,” He’s nodding obediently, a complete puppy under your touch, as he shivers as your fingers run through his hair before tugging, “are you ready for that?” 

“Yes, baby,” he’s biting his lip, fingers twitching wanting to touch you. 

Your lips curl, “Good boy.” 

“All that big talk and now look at you, Toru,” Satoru’s white knuckled fingers fisted at the sheets of your shared bed, as your own fingers teased the head of his leaking cock through his boxers, “such a mess for me,” 

You kneel at the foot of your bed, settled between his thighs, and though you were on your knees, you were the one who held the power. Fingers tracing the trigger right within your grasp, his cock twitching against your hand. 

“Please, sweetheart, fuck,” he’s hissing when your lips lean down to press a kiss to his clothes weeping slit, the wet heat of your mouth seeps through, making him twitch against your touch — a spark of need that burns against his skin and boils his blood underneath with need, “please, don’t tease me,” 

“Well that’s not fair,” you hum, as your fingers toy with the elastic of his boxers, snapping the elastic against your skin, sending a shiver up his body along with an ache that reaches his bones — and he wondered how he had let your grip on him grow this deep — and how he had ever let it go when it felt this good, “when you’re being teased I’m supposed to relent, even though you made me cum downstairs in my entryway?” 

And he’s swallowing thickly, Adam’s apple bobbing just as anticipatory as the rest of his body, a bow string drawn tight just waiting for you to release it. But you wished to toy with the arrow more. 

“I have half a mind to make you clean my cum off the floor with your tongue,” you click your own tongue as a taunt, but that only makes him squirm, “but maybe I’ll spare you since you’re being so good for me,” you’re dragging your fingers down his boxers, freeing his cock— already far too hard, flushed and dripping with precum as it slaps against his stomach, the flared head nearly begging you to touch it, “tell me what you want,” his cock is far too gorgeous, you thought that from the first time you saw it  — long and curved, and the veins that ran along it were so pretty— just like the man himself. 

And a whimper escapes his lips, “sweetheart, please, touch me—“ 

“With what?” you thumb his tip lightly, smearing the cum down his shaft, “my fingers? Or my mouth,” and your lips lick the pre that clings to your thumb clean, dragging your thumb down the flat of your tongue. 

“Y-Your mouth,” and you’re smiling, your lips curling as his pretty gaze pleads with you, “please,” 

“Imagine your subordinates saw you like this, begging your ex-wife to blow you, nearly ready to blow your load already just from fingering me,” your fingers toy with his balls, while you leans down to trace the tip of his tongue up the bottom of his cock, “what do you think they’d say?” And your lips part to let his engorged tip enter, as his head falls back with a groan, the wet and warm mouth, as you start to bob your head up and down his length. 

“Fuuuuck, pretty,” and you’re pausing as you wait for a reply to your question, his own tongue tying itself in knots, “think I’m down bad for my wife,” he’s grunting, the words ‘my wife’ and his groans sending white hot arousal to your needy cunt, “think I’d let her fuck me anyway she wants and they would be right, sweets. I’d let you use me,” your tongue is wrapped around his length, as his dick sinks deeper into your mouth, nose brushing against his pubes, his hips held taut as he forces himself not to face fuck you. 

And his eyes flutter down to meet yours, only to find your eyes drowning in lust, molten with need that nearly burned him with want, lips sloppy and dripping with a mix of precum and your spit out of the corners of your mouth, and your fingers —buried deep in your cunt as you sucked him off. 

Fuck. 

With the nasty way you slurped at his length, the noise ringing in his ear as your fingers begin to squeeze and stroke his balls, he wasn’t going to last much longer. His hips bucked against your mouth, and he’s muttering apologies but you let him, moaning as his tip hits the back of your throat. 

“I’m close—where—“ and you’re sucking hard, tongue flicking against his slit and when he fucks your mouth once, twice — he’s gone. He’s cumming down your throat, hot spurts of cum painting your lips and mouth, his head falls back, fingers gripping the sheets as his eyes flutter open. And he watches you pull away from his cock, sticky strings of cum and saliva connecting you to his length still, “fuck, sweetheart,” his softening dick already twitching at the sight of you — your pretty tongue darting out to lick his cum from your lips. 

“You taste as good as I remember, Toru — always so sweet,” and you’re pulling your own fingers from inside your tight pussy, and he snaps. 

You’re on your back on the bed now, flopped down against the mattress as his hand closes around your wrist of the hand that was just inside you. Your words are lodged in your throat but come out a shiver when he brings your soaked fingers to his lips, he kisses each one before sucking and licking them clean. 

“Toru—“ and he pulls away from the last finger with a pop, eyes clouded with need, “I—“ 

“And you say I taste good?” he’s humming, as he leans over you, “wait until you taste yourself, Princess,” and his mouth is insistent on giving you an entire course of your taste on his tongue, mapping out a detailed cartography of very crook and crevice of your mouth, “aren’t you so much sweeter?” He’s pulling away from your bitten red lips, spit connecting your lips still, “and that taste is all mine, just like you, wifey,” 

The pet name sends a fresh wave of desire coursing through your veins, stoking the burning need already threatening to consume you both, “Toru—“ and he’s already stripping your dress away, pulled away up and over your head, thrown away like every thought of why this was a bad idea. Your nipples perk in the cool air of your bedroom and under his hot gaze, standing at attention as if they’re begging for his attention. And he’s more than happy to oblige. 

His fingers toy with the buds, rolling between your forefinger and thumb, until he’s bending down to take one in his mouth, and you’re arching into his touch, your fingers finding purchase on his shoulders. 

“Bet Atsuya would love to see you like this, huh?” He’s switching to the other side, teeth dragging against your nipple to draw a gasp from your lips, “Would love to see you such a mess like this, spread out and needy,” and he’s spreading you with warm palms, his half hard cock brushing against your thigh, “Were you gonna let him fuck you on this bed? Our bed?” 

He doesn’t allow you an answer as his fingers spread your dripping walls, “Gonna let him taste you like this?” His lips warm your fluttering pussy, nearly begging for his touch and to swallow you whole, “when I already said this pretty cunt was mine,” he clicks his tongue far too close, making you whine, “g’nna have to answer my question first, Princess,” 

“No, I wouldn’t,” and he presses a chaste kiss to your dripping pussy, making you whimper, your walls spasming around nothing, “Toru,” 

“Remember when we moved into this home?” his lips are teasing your inner thigh, teeth dragging against your hot skin, “we broke the bed in all night long,” he’s looking up through half lidded eyes, “think he could please you like that? Make you moan his name?” 

And you’re growing desperate as his lips draw close to your clit, tongue dragging against it, only to pull away to your thighs again, “no, no, only you, Toru, please—“ 

“Only I what?” oh you know he’s goading you, but your want is drawn taut like a stringed instrument, tweaking your strings when you’re dying for him to play you — “c’mon sweetheart,” 

“Only you make me feel this good — fuck, Toru, I swear to god—“ your head falls back into the pillow as his face buries itself in your cunt, his laugh vibrates against your walls, pleasure rising faster than smoke from a burning building. His fingers dig into your hips as he holds you in place now, settled between your legs. 

“You swear to me what?” and you swear his god complex gets worse and worse, and the way you moaned with his head between your legs wasn’t helping, “sorry, Princess, I have my mouth full,” and his tongue as silver as his words were, parting your folds with ease, as his lips slurped at your folds messily. 

Fuck, he was too good at it, and he knew it, smirk on his lips as the wet, nasty noises of his mouth wrapped around your cunt and your bordering pornographic moans filled the silence. Pleasure ribboned up your body, mixing with the sharpness of his fingers pressed against your plush thighs to keep you in place. 

“Gonna make me cum before I even fuck you, Princess,” and you hear the telltale squelch of his hand around his weeping dick — the shudder of your groan making him moan all the same, “taste so fucking good, never gonna go a night without tasting you again,” he murmurs far too reverently with his tongue dipping back into your folds for more of your juices, “you know how many times I fucked my fist to the thought of eating you out again? Never gonna spend a second without burying myself in this cunt,” 

“Toru, I’m close—“ and you are, greedy tongue flitting over your clit, his nose bumping against his folds, and the practiced ease of his touch — he knew just what to do to make you cum. And he did, his mouth closing around your clit, before sucking harshly. 

You cum on his face, swallowing your slick with the thrust of a desert weary man, his eagerness apparent on his soaked face, as you finally came down your high. He doesn’t waste a drop, only pulling away with a pop when your orgasm ebbs away, licking his lips clean of your juices. 

“Still dripping even after I licked you clean?” He clicks his tongue as he watches your slick soak the sheet, “gonna have to find another way, maybe you need something bigger,” he hums in fake contemplation, “what can we use?” 

“I have some sex toys that might do the trick,” and he scoffs, as he kisses up your body, before pressing his hard erection against your thigh. 

“Don’t think any toy you have compares to me,” and you’re gasping as he drags the head of his cock against your puffy clit, “nothing can fill you up like I can,” and he groans as he watches your releases mix, “just for that, g’nna make you beg for it,” 

“Toru,” you’re whining, but he’s only teasing your entrance with the head of his dick, your walls fluttering, already begging for him to sink into you, but he’s waiting for your mouth to do the same, “please, fuck me, I need you inside—“ 

He grins, “Well how can I deny my pretty wife when she asks so nicely?” And he’s splitting you open with his thick cock, balls deep with only a thrust of his hips. Your hands are grasping at him for purchase, needing to hold onto him as his cock stretches your walls out. It’s as if you remember him, walls sliding to accommodate him as they always did, but clinging to him desperately, a grunt parting his lips, as if they never wanted him to leave again. And you didn’t. 

“So fucking tight, Princess,” he’s groaning in your ear, a swallow roll of his hips drawing a chorus of moans from both of you, “don’t have to break my dick off to keep it — I’ll take you anytime you want,” and he’s pressing your thighs forward, slinging one over his shoulder, as he presses himself even deeper. 

A whine leaves the back of your throat, “too deep, Toru,” and his cock twitches inside you at that, “fuck,” and it takes everything in him not to blow his load there and then, 

“You love it when I fuck you like this, Princess, or do I have to remind you?” And he does, beginning to piston in and out, the lewd slaps of skin and moans filling the air of your bedroom, “be careful or our daughter might wake from the sounds of her mommy getting fucked,” he clicks his tongue, “maybe we should give her another sibling?” He’s watching the way your cunt eagerly welcomes his cock, sinking in and out with ease, “fuck another baby into you, hm? Would you like that princess?” 

“Toru, ngh,” your walls flutter at the thought of a kid, of his seed filling you up, “please—more—“ 

He gives a chuckle, “I’ll give you everything, sweetheart — fuck you so full that you’ll be dripping with my seed for days,” he’s grunting, legs trembling as his thrusts grow more sloppy as his orgasm begins to build, “fuck, you feel so good for me, “gonna give you another baby, make sure everyone knows you’re mine, my wife—“ 

“G’nna cum, Toru,” you’re falling back against the mattress, as he bends down to press a messy kiss to your lips, all tongue and teeth, before his fingers reach down to rub at your clit. Your eyes finding his, face flushed a pretty pink, eyes shrouded in a deep lust that was reserved only for you, and as he bucks into you even deeper, he brushes against that spongy spot that has the taut string snapping as you fall apart. 

“Cum on my cock, sweetheart,” he’s grunting, as he grazes teeth along your neck before biting. And you cum hard, toes curling as your mouth falls open with only moans of his name on your lips. The way your walls squeeze around him has him only rutting into you harder, deeper, messier — as he watches the ring of cum pool around the base of his cock, fucking you through your orgasm, “g’nna cum—“ and you’re pulling him into another kiss, legs wrapped around him as he falls over the edge with you. Hot cum spills in ropes inside your walls, his hips rolling as he does, if only to fuck his cum deeper inside you. 

“Toru, s’good, I—“ you’re incoherent nearly under him, soft kisses pressed along your jaw as you both come down from your highs, cock softening inside you only him to pull out, another groan of your name on his lips when he watches his cum drip from inside you, staining your thighs along with the sheets. 

And you whimper when he’s gathering his spilled cum on two fingers only to push it back inside, “can’t let you waste a drop, can we, sweetheart?” 

He’s finally pulling away, his other hand cupping your cheek, as he finds your lips in a lazy but far too sweet kiss, “Toru,” you mumble, “I never stopped loving you, because I don’t think I ever could,” 

His eyes grow glassy, his fingers finding the back of your neck, “I know nothing I’ll do will make up for what I did — to you and Satomi, but,” he presses his forehead to yours, “if you both let me, I’ll spend the rest of my life trying to make it up to you,” 

And tears burn at the corners of your eyes, “Just stay with us, and promise to never leave — that’s enough,” and your lips brush his, “you’re more than enough for us, Satoru,” and he kisses you again and again and again, nearly climbing on top of you again, when you both hear a tiny gasp from the door. 

Your heads both snap over to your baby daughter leaning against the door, badly hidden behind it, as she pokes her head in, “did mommy and daddy make up?” 

Your cheeks burn as you cover your face — you both had checked on Satomi before but she was fast asleep still, and now — you checked the time — 9:30 PM, you were sure she’d be up all night. 

“Yes baby, mommy and daddy had some stuff to talk about,” Satoru grabs your robe for you, handing it over as he pulls his discarded boxers on under the sheets, “come here,” and she squeals as she runs into her daddy’s arms, Satoru scoops her up before pressing kisses all over her face, her giggles and his grin nearly too much for you. 

“Now she’s gonna be up all night,” you murmur to Satoru, and he’s smiling. 

“I can tire her out,” he grins, and then he adds with a whisper, “and then I’ll tire you out,” and you flush, shoving him playfully, “come on, my love, let’s go play for a while and let mama rest,” and he’s sliding out of bed, carrying her out of the bedroom, and you watch him, lying on your side, with a smile on your lips.  

Maybe it wasn’t so bad having a husband — especially when it was Satoru Gojo. 

Satoru lets you and Satomi sleep in the next morning, making a smoothie for himself, as he starts to prepare breakfast. He did tire you both out last night, especially you — and you did some exhausting of your own, his fingers running over the hickies you left all over his neck and collarbone with a slight hum. He tied your apron on himself, only boxers and a sleeveless tee on. 

He started to crack eggs into a bowl with one hand. He wouldn’t make the same mistakes again — he meant what he said. He would make it up to you, or at least he would try — and he would spend the rest of his life treasuring you and his kid — and maybe another if you let him have his way, he thought, biting back a grin. 

You had turned him down last night when he asked, 

“Don’t you think it’s time we try for another one?” His arms are winding around you, half hard erection already pressing into you, as the two of you stood right outside your daughter’s doorway, watching the angel sleep, “we did do well with the first one,” 

“Toru, we just got back together, we’re not having another kid,” and he’s already pouting, you know without looking at him, “but that would be nice — for our daughter to have a sibling,” and god, it made him to take right there (which he did), but he couldn’t wait until all three of you were ready. Because he wouldn’t dare to miss a second of it — never again. 

And then a knock at the door pulls him from his thoughts, and his brow furrows. Who could it be this early?

He walks over, checking through the peephole, a grin growing on his lips, oh, perfect timing. Satoru opens the door, leaning against the doorframe, “Yes?” 

Atsuya Kusakabe frowns, jaw nearly dropping as he attempts not to gape at Satoru Gojo standing in his date’s doorway, nearly dropping the bag of medicine and soup he had packed up for you, “Uh, sorry, I was looking for—“ 

“My wife?” He raises a brow, and Kusakabe’s face blanches, as Satoru only smiles with a shrug, “sorry I should say ex-wife, we did get a divorce,” and Kusakabe’s mouth opens and closes, “but you know, she never stopped being mine,” 

Kusakabe clears his throat, rubbing the back of his neck, “where is—“ 

“She’s sleeping still,” Satoru’s lips curl, as he sighs, “she wasn’t feeling well yesterday, but I think I made her feel better last night,” and he’s rubbing the back of his neck, movement drawing his attention to your marks littering his body. 

A flush crawls up his neck and ears and he clears his throat, “I-I see,” he thrusts the bag into Satoru’s hands, “could you please give this to her and let her know—“ and he’s shaking his head, rubbing at his temples, “tell her whatever you want.” 

And he’s gone, door slamming behind him, click of the lock. He holds the bag behind him, only to walk forward to see you peeking from the bedroom, his button up shirt thrown over your head, as you rub your eyes,  “who was it?” 

He only smiles at you, dropping the bag in the trash, “No one important,” and he’s finding his way to your side, arms winding around your waist, “I made us breakfast,” 

“Oh really?” You hum, as he buries his face in the crook of your neck, pressing sweet kisses that only makes you sigh contently, “what’s the occasion?” 

“Oh, just the first day of the rest of our lives, nothing too big,” he hums, and you laugh, his favorite noise that only makes him fall deeper in love with you, if that was even possible, “have to treat you right don’t I, wifey?” 

“Yes, you do,” and your lips find his again, “my husband,” and the word sticks in his chest, a missing piece that fits right back into place, and fixes a hole that had been aching for far too long, “should we go wake up our daughter?” 

He presses a kiss to your forehead, “Together.” 

✧ a/n: so i didn't think i'd finish this week with being at my sister's and having a con this weekend but i found the time! i hope you enjoyed this one. this is my reality for gojo i'm living in :) fun fact, satomi and satoru both mean enlightenment! :)

✧ taglist: @jasminelee324 , @forest-hashira , @spider-fan72 ,, @rougebrainsludge , @theshylittleelfgirl , @ririchurl , @johannakhalafalla , @hanlay , @fawnlikelore , @vickkysthings , @dead-kats , @hantaslittlearsonist t , @being-me-is-not-a-sin , @augustwinesworld , @forest-fruits-jam , @kirashuu , @catsgomurp , @daddytojji , @notgoodforlife , @hyori2 , @shrimpy109 , @goddess-ofthe-godless , @i-spilt-ink-on-my-phone , @sunamatic , @rougebrainsludge , @redmangotango , , @psychxbby , @nakariabnrb , @mua-for-now @dazailover1900 , @alwaysfreakingout , @yamaguccitadashi , @equikaz , @gojosatorubrainrot

#sab [mlist] #satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo fanfiction #satoru gojo smut #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru fanfiction #gojo x reader #gojo fanfiction #jjk x reader #jjk fanfiction #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen fanfiction #gojo satoru smut #jjk x you #jjk fanfic #jjk gojo

[bluerosefox]

Another Sibling Danny and Jason idea!!

"Are you Jason Peter Todd?!" demanded a deep and commanding tone from the strange glowing being in front of them.

All the Bats stiffened and tensed, no doubt gearing up for a fight against the being that somehow knew Red Hood's full name.

Jason, Red Hood, decided to put on a brave front despite no doubt cursing in his head and wondering how the heck did this thing know his full freaking name.

"Whose asking." he snarled out, his hands twitching for his gun when the huge glowing knight with purple flames coming out of his helmet and cape, who was riding on a nightmare looking horse while they all had been in the cave going over tonight's patrol.

The Knight didn't seemed bothered by his response nor did he even seem to care or flinch when Batman made his own demand on 'Why was he there and who was he' or when Damian unsheathed his sword and pointed it towards him. Instead the strange glowing Knight reached to it side and pulled out... A glowing scroll? Huh. (Also he completely unnerved everyone in the room when the Knight didn't even react when Batman had tossed a Baterang when he reached for his side)

The Knight opened the scroll and spoke clearly with purpose.

"Jason Peter Todd,

You are hereby invited as a special guest of honor to the crowning of our future King of the Infinite Realms.

Daniel Phantom, once Daniel Jackson Fenton, and once Daniel Austen Todd.

Prince of the Infinite Realms, the Keeper of Balance, The Peacekeeping Halfa, the Defeater of the Tyrant King Pariah Dark, The Great One, Youngest of the Ancients, Ancient of Space, The Bridge between Life and Death.

You, the half-brother of our King, have been given the highest of honors for your past actions and will be given housing and food in the Realms and Phantom's Keep, for the week long event. Personal servants and attendants will be at your disposable and a seamstress will be on hand to tailor make your attire for the Coronation.

Signed: Clockwork. Ancient of Time. Watcher of the Infinite Timeline. Kronos. Mentor and Adviser.

PS: I shall have Fright Knight ("Me" the Knight bluntly said for a second) leave this scroll along with a personal one for you from Daniel to read over and once you make up your mind sign the bottom of the scroll.

I do hope in time you will pick the right choice Jason Todd, we of the Infinite Realms would like to reward you for your actions. After all, if you hadn't gotten young Daniel away from your father that night all those years ago, we would never had gained our Prince nor be free from our once Tyrant King.

Ah, one more thing.

The Infinite Realms will always favor you Jason."

Jason felt like he couldn't breath as Fright Knight? Rolled up the scroll, pulled a letter from his side, and held out the two items for him to take.

#danny phantom #danny fenton #crossover #dp x dc #blue rambles #danny phantom dc #writing ideas #random idea #dpxdc #Danny and Jason are half brothers #Fright Knight #Clockwork mention #Jason saved baby Danny when Willias came home drunk one night and their mom was out of her mind at the moment #Danny had been crying for food and Willias was getting annoyed #Jason managed to run off with baby Danny to a few towns over and put him in a baby box before getting caught a few other towns over by cops #and was shipped back to Gotham #kept his mouth shut about where he put his brother and took any punishment that came afterwords #It set up the timeline where Danny is going to become the Infinite Realms new King #Hence why the kinda sentient Realms 'rewarded' Jason later on when he died aka bringing him back to life #I love the idea of a kinda sentient Realms tbh #it loves Danny because he's been helping rebuild and mend the Realms #Danny is its fav King thus favors those related to him #well everyone but Willias #he's in Walkers prison btw #I want Jason to go tbh and see how every ghost is getting everything ready for the coronation #its chaotic yet organized somehow #I want more Danny's coronation stories #Like I love already King or just finding out Prince Danny but we need more coronation ones tbh

[undertheorangetree]

Tantrum

Summary- Art’s girlfriend sucks at tennis. He helps her feel better.

Warnings- MDNI 18+ NSFW. Female reader. Stanford era Art. Exhibitionism. Body worship. Cunnilingus. Wee bit of fingering. P in V sex. Riding. The fluffiest giggliest sex you've ever seen. Me not knowing a damn thing about tennis.

Author's Note- Hi idk if you noticed but i have Challengers brain rot rn specifically for Art Donaldson :// As a theatre kid I simply had no choice it was always gonna be him. Read the full fic on AO3.

When Art had looked up at her with big pleading eyes, all but begging her to allow him to teach her the basics of tennis, she was in no position to refuse. It had been sweet, how badly he wanted to share his passion with her, the kisses he had peppered across her neck and chest in order to entice her into it, and she couldn’t so much as imagine denying him. Forget the fact that she had never held a racket in her life, that her strengths had always been rooted in academia rather than athletics.  If allowing him to teach her would make him happy, she would do it.

Though not without complaint.

She lets out a frustrated grunt as the ball hits the net- again- before turning her head up to glare at Art when he barely manages to stifle his laugh. He smothers it immediately when he catches sight of her glower, hand coming up to rub at his mouth as if he can physically wipe away his smile and she feels her teeth grind together.

“You can’t laugh. You’re the one who wanted me to do this so you’re not allowed to make fun of me,” she complains, her voice half petulance half hurt and immediately his face morphs into something more apologetic.

“I’m sorry baby.” He makes his way closer but she simply rolls her eyes, turning her nose up when he reaches out to her. He takes it in stride. “I’m not laughing at you, you’re doing very well. It’s just funny to see you so frustrated.”

It’s her turn to laugh, though it is little more than a humourless bark. “I am not doing very well. I suck.”

He makes a sympathetic noise as he attempts to reach for her again. She allows it begrudgingly, resisting the urge to roll her eyes as his hands close around her elbows, face dropping into her neck to press a kiss there. She thinks that he’s about to praise her further, try to coax her back into committing herself to the game, but he stays silent, continuing to lavish her with silent kisses.

She’s happy for the odd hour they decided to come here, the tennis court completely devoid of any other life. It’s a colder night than it should be for mid spring, the floodlights and moon the only two things to provide them with any light, and she’s grateful finals have chased everyone else away. She’s glad to have this time alone with him, despite her frustration. To feel like they are the only two people in the world.

“You’re just hitting the ball too hard,” he explains, face still half buried in her throat. “And you aren’t even attempting to aim. Putting everything you have behind the hit doesn’t make it a good one if you don’t know where you’re sending it. There’s more to tennis than just force, you have to be smart about it.”

She scoffs, reaching up to press her palm against his forehead and shove him away, ignoring the shit eating grin that’s made itself known on his face. “Just go over there and hit the damn ball. Before I leave you here by yourself.”

The grin doesn’t fade, his amusement more than clear, but he does as she asks, returning to his side of the court. She lets out another aggravated sigh as she returns to the position he had told her to wait in, knees bent as she waits for him to serve, realizing more and more that she prefers to watch him play tennis rather than do it with him. She finds far more joy watching him from the stands as he chases after the ball, sweat dripping from his curls and grunts echoing in her ears. Here, where she is the one chasing the ball like a damn dog and failing to send it sailing over the net when she does manage to catch it, there is no time to admire Art in his element.

She almost feels bad for her poor attitude, wishing she was less competitive so that she could simply enjoy this quality time with him, but every failure does nothing but enrage her further, sending her spiralling further into frustration.

Read the rest here :)

#art Donaldson x reader #art donaldson x female reader #art Donaldson smut #art Donaldson Fic #art Donaldson imagine #art Donaldson fanfiction #art Donaldson #challengers x reader #challengers smut #challengers fic #challengers fanfiction #challengers #challengers x you #art Donaldson x you #Mike faist smut #challengers film #challengers movie #challengers 2024

[jyoongim]

Alastor loves his mother, he protected her from his father and went on a killing spree on all horrible men.

So it only makes sense that he falls in love with single mother reader yeah? Like she killed her husband to protect her child and they both ended up in hell? And Alastor just obsessing with mother reader and her child.

I haven’t written anything in a while so this might be a little wonky but i hope i did ok

———————————————————————————

Alastor hated men that treated good women terribly.

Especially if there were children in the home.

He had lived with his mother, who put up with his father’s abuse for his sake.

Until Alastor had had enough of seeing the woman he loved abused by her husband.

Despite his mother's protests.

His mother always loved his father despite how he treated them.

Love works in mysterious ways Is what his mother use to say.

He didn’t understand what that meant…

Until he met you.

The pretty doll with a tot.

From the grapevine he learned that no one had seen a husband around or a band on your finger. 

He thought it was impossible; you were a catch!

Why was a sweet thing like you without a husband?

“Would you care to stay for dinner my dear?” Alastor asked as you got up ready to go home. You had came over to give him a fruit basket, a welcome gift as you were his neighbor.

You looked at the time surprised at how long you had stayed chatting.

”Oh Al i would hate to intrude and its past this one’s bedtime” you said gesturing to the child, who had fell asleep in your arms.

Alastor hummed. He had grown quite attached to you and the little one, he had hoped you would take his invitation and stay the night.

Soon. 

You gave him a soft smile and went home.

Alastor was the most eligible bachelor in town. All the ladies swooned after him, though he never cared for the attention, but it was different with you.

He went about his evening routine when the sound of shouting could be heard.

interesting.

From the window of his kitchen, he had a perfect view into your home.

A man was standing in your living room, hands moving animatedly.

He scowled. Ah that must be your estranged husband.

You had told Alastor a bit about the man you were married to and how much of a bastard he was.

You were frowning and standing between him and your child.

The man advanced and Alastor thought to go over but to his surprise you gestured for the child to go to their room and got in the man’s face.

The two of you exchanged words and the man raised his hand and hit you. You stumbled back, seemingly shock and looked at him with disbelief and something else.

You grabbed a nearby by lamp and smashed it against his head. The man went down and you jumped on top of him, slamming the lamp down over and over until you stood back up and there was blood on your clothes.

You covered your mouth, panic set in and you ran from the room.

Alastor’s lips turned into a smile and he made his way over.

He knocked at the door, basically bouncing on the balls of his feet in excitement.

You opened the door, now cleaned “A-Al? What are you-”

He feigned concern “Heard a ruckus and came to make sure you and the tot were ok” You looked back into the house and then back at him.

”We-we’re ok” you whispered.

His brows quirked, head tilting “You sure Cher?”

You bit at your lip before opening the door to let him in.

Alastor’s eyes landed on the battered body of your husband and turned to you.

You were obviously distressed “Al he-he threatened me and then hit me and I didn’t know what else to do” you approached him,  almost pleading

”Please don’t report me. Pretend you saw nothing and keep. This between us”

Alastor approached the body. He nugded it with his shoe and smiled “Oh my dear I would never.  In fact, why not leave this mess to me hm? You look worn for wear ”

You nodded and sat on your couch and had a meltdown.

You just killed a man.

Your husband.

But you had no choice.

———————————————————————————-

“So you’re telling me that you been with Smiles ever since” Angel asked shocked.

You smiled “I mean it ain’t every day a man takes care of your dead body. I knew from that moment that he was the one for me”

After the death of your husband, you and Alastor started seeing each other more intimately. 

He had let you in on his true identity and the bond between the two of you had grown stronger.

He was an excellent father to your child. The little tot had even started calling him daddy.

But fate was cruel and after many years you died, ending up in Hell for the murder of your husband.

You had found Alastor and reunited, he led you to the hotel, where the two of you lived as a couple.

”She’s full of surprises I assure you” a radio-like voice said and you turned to see Alastor entering the lobby with your child in tow.

Yes. Full of surprises. 

For he would have killed the man himself if you didn’t.

it was only right that you were now his

#hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #alastor #hazbin hotel fanfiction #jyoongim #alastor x reader #alastor x y/n #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor the radio demon

[rowarn]

THEE DEARLY WED !

kyle 'gaz' garrick/reader | MDNI

tags: noble!reader, noble!kyle, arranged marriage (not to each other), forbidden love

cw: technically infidelity (kyle and reader cheat with each other despite both being engaged), loss of virginity, cunnilingus, wet and messy, body worship elements, consent, soft!kyle, piv, soft sex, simultaneous orgasms

a/n: thank u to everyone in the silly discord server for helping me decide on this one LMAOOOO i never woulda done it without you. also!!! don't expect any kind of accuracy on this, it is merely a work of fiction!

; it was decided when you were young that you would get married to someone you didn't even love. your heart belonged to the electrifying Lord Kyle Garrick despite him being in the same boat as you.

8.1k words

From the time you were a child, you had been fated to marry someone chosen by your parents. It was a silly, annoying custom among nobility and one you simply didn’t get a choice on. He was decided for you the moment you were born.

It’s all you’ve ever known. Your betrothed, Owen Knightly, was someone of high standing. It would be remarkably good for your family to marry into his. 

You may have even been content with the life you were given if he had never come into your life. Maybe it wouldn’t have been so bad if you weren’t in love with someone you simply couldn’t have. 

You met when you were children. You were barely five years old and he was a few years older than you. It was one of your fondest memories, one that always brings a smile to your face when you reminisce.

“This is Lord Kyle Garrick,” your mother had crooned as she introduced you to the young boy who knelt upon one knee and gingerly kissed your hand. It was a sweet, innocent display of affection that had you swooning right then and there.

Your families ran in the same circles, the Garricks were on equal social standing as your own family. Every party and gala that the two of you were invited to, you managed to gravitate towards each other. Both of you knew how wrong it was – how it would ruin both yours and your families lives if you stepped one foot out of line. But the draw between you two was undeniable. You could see it in his eyes when he stared at you from across ballrooms, the longing that you experienced just the same.

Fate was incredibly cruel and fickle. You watched as Kyle grew to be a handsome man, desired by aristocratic families from all over the country. He was handsome, well bred, and so kind. You’d have to be blind to not see how incredible of a man he was.

Anyone would be lucky to be his betrothed. 

You just wish it was you.

Unfortunately, the lucky person he was engaged to was chosen for him from the time of his own birth, someone whose status would benefit his family. The two of you were never fated to be together. It was a painful, irrefutable fact.

Still, that didn’t stop the two of you from making eyes at one another every time you saw each other at aristocratic gatherings. 

He was the only thing that made a long, boring gathering interesting. Every time you received an invitation to a gala or a ball, you felt the excitement of being able to see him again.

Even if you were with your own fiance and he was with his.

“Good evening, Your Grace,” Kyle greeted, bowing down to place a kiss to the top of your hand. 

“Hello to you, My Lord,” you smile, meeting his gaze for an electrifying moment. 

The two of you break eye contact quickly, all too worried about raising suspicion. 

Your gaze met his fiance’s who stood off to the side, nursing a glass of wine. She seemed completely disinterested in the conversation going on, instead glancing around the room. 

“Our wedding is coming up awfully fast,” your fiance mused, placing his arm around your shoulders affectionately, “Isn’t that right, darling?”

It made your skin crawl but you mustered up a proper, practiced smile to shoot him, “Yes, it’s just a few weeks away. Oh, My Lord, you’ll surely be attending, correct?”

“Oh come now,” your fiance chided, “Lord Garrick is surely preparing for his own upcoming wedding. He’ll be much too busy to attend ours. What a silly question for you to ask.”

“Nonsense,” Kyle smiled, a sight that made your heart race despite the irritation you feel towards your fiance’s condescension. His dark eyes flitted to you, dropping to your lips before meeting your husband’s gaze again, “I wouldn’t miss such a blessed union.”

“You flatter us, My Lord,” you breathe, biting your lip. Hearing the man you love praise your upcoming wedding, even if it was a charade he put on, made your heart ache terribly in your chest.

“My love,” Kyle’s fiance wraps her arm around his arm, making your heart seize up in jealousy.

Kyle barely glances at her, instead keeping those deep brown eyes on your, “Yes?”

“Can we dance?” she asks, pointing in the direction of all the couples currently dancing in the center of the room.

“Of course,” he agrees easily, bowing gracefully at you and your fiance, “Please excuse us.”

“I say we should have a dance as well,” your fiance says, taking your hand, without even bothering to see if you wanted to in his, to lead you to the group of dancing people. 

You fight back a sigh as he pulls your close against him, your chest pressed against his. One of his arms wraps around your waist, holding your other hand in the air while you rest your free hand on his shoulder. It was a practiced pose you’d learned all your life but it still made you want to curl your lip in disgust at being so close to this man.

The two of you begin to sway across the dance floor in time to the gentle rhythm of the music playing through the room. You stare over your fiance’s shoulder at all the people scattered around the ballroom. You find this entire endeavor to be rather dull, just high society people sucking up to one another in an endless cycle. 

“Isn’t that right, darling?” your fiance’s voice grates in your ear, drawing you out of your daydreams.

“What?” you ask, meeting his gaze, “I didn’t hear you.”

“You’re so cute,” he gushes, clicking his tongue, “Always zoning out. Don’t need to think about anything when you’ve got your fiance here.”

You bite your tongue, feeling your eyes twitch at his continued condescension, “I was just admiring the beautiful ballroom.”

“Indeed,” he hums as he spins you around the dancefloor, “As I was saying, however, that Lord Garrick is an incredibly refined man, is he not?”

“Of course,” you agree, wishing so badly you could look around the room to find the mentioned man just to catch a glimpse of his handsome face, “His family is held in such high regard, after all. It’s only natural.”

“Indeed,” your fiance agrees, “And his upcoming union will only increase their status.”

There’s a lapse in the conversation as you both continue to dance. The mention of your beloved’s wedding tastes bitter on your tongue, sullying your mood even more. You zone out until the music slowly comes to a stop, slowing your steps to a complete stop.

The music starts up again, another song beginning to play immediately. Your fiance opens his mouth to say something but stops short.

“Excuse me,” a familiar, smooth voice interrupts the two of you.

You turn to see Kyle standing there in all his glory, smiling kindly, “If you would be so kind as to let me have the next dance.”

“I was just about to go get myself some refreshments anyway,” your fiance grunts, passing Kyle your hand. 

He takes it gently, treating you like the finest, most delicate glass. It sends shivers down your spines, just feeling his skin against yours. 

“I thank you,” Kyle bows politely before leading you deeper into the crowd of dancing couples. 

Once hidden away from the prying eyes of your fiance, Kyle tugs you snuggly against him, assuming the same position you had before. His spicy, floral scent invades your senses and makes your eyes flutter at how nice it smells.

“Where did your fiance go?” you find yourself asking, though you don’t particularly care about her whereabouts.

“Not sure,” he responds, “Said she wanted to go talk with some friends.”

“I see,” you hum, eyes drifting to your hand clasped in his. His thumb occasionally strokes over the soft skin atop your hand.

“I’ve been dying to have a single moment alone with you this whole evening,” he confesses, keeping his voice low so no one nearby could hear the adulteress confessions coming from his lips.

“My Lord,” you breathe, your heart picking up as you meet his soft gaze. He looks at you in a way you’ve never seen him look at anyone else and it makes you flustered, “I was so happy to learn that you were also going to be here.”

“As was I,” he agrees, squeezing your hand in his, “I wish so desperately the two of us could slip away unseen.”

“It wouldn’t be the first time we’ve found ourselves alone,” you muse, chuckling to yourself.

“There will be a rather gaudy announcement shortly,” he says, “If you can slip away during it, I’m sure that no one will miss either of us so long as we’re back in time for the desert to be served.”

“Where shall we meet?” you ask, all too aware that this song was winding down.

“There’s a balcony overlooking the back gardens,” he says, the two of you slowly coming to a stop.

“I’ll be there,” he smiles at that, carefully dropping your hand to your side despite the fact neither of you want to let go of the other.

You miss his touch as soon as it’s gone but you know that you can’t maintain physical contact with him without gossip and speculation filling the hall. It’s already a dangerous game the both of you play with the way you’ve spent secretive moments alone despite your engagements. You crave so desperately to be able to love him publicly like other couples.

“I know you will,” he bows, kissing the top of your hand before turning on his heel and vanishing into the crowd on the other side of the room. 

You have no choice but to find your fiance afterwards, despite the way dread fills your stomach when you lay your eyes upon him. He’s standing among noblemen, chattering away.

When you come into view he beams, “There is my beloved betrothed,” he says, “Such a sweet little thing, no?”

“Ah yes,” one of the other men hum, looking you up and down in a way that makes you cringe internally, “You are a lucky man, Owen.”

“Aren’t I?” your fiance wraps his arm around your waist, tucking you firmly against him, “Such a lovely doll all for me. Not the sharpest tool in the shed, as expected, but such a pretty face. Anyone would be envious of a man like me in my position with a beautiful fiance on his arm.”

You want so badly to roll your eyes at his insults and pompous attitude. Instead, you tune out the conversation and choose to look out over the party hall where all sorts of people mingle. 

Your gaze finds Kyle from across the room. His fiance is on his arm and that prickly sensation of jealousy fills your chest but quickly vanishes when he looks away from the people he’s talking with to smile at you. 

The melodic sound of a bell ringing across the room gets everyone’s attention. It falls completely silent as the host approaches the top of the stairs, dressed extravagantly to the nines. As she begins to address the crowd, you catch Kyle slipping out.

You turn to your fiance, “I’m afraid I must go to the washroom.”

“Take your time,” he nods, “Do return before the cake is served.”

“Of course,” you smile and carefully follow Kyle’s lead and slip out into a side hall.

The labyrinth of halls were easy to navigate since they were all too similar to your own manor. The music and chatter from the party quickly faded the further into the manor you got until you were finally at the doors leading to the balcony. You push it open, slipping through the opening before letting them softly close behind you.

Kyle stood, leaning against the balcony, staring off into the gardens. He was beautifully illuminated by the full moon and it made you breathless.

He turns to look at you, smiling, “I knew you’d make it.”

“I always do,” you whisper, taking his outstretched hand when he offers it. 

“You look absolutely marvelous,” he breathes, pulling you close to him just like when you were dancing. Only this time, he spins and presses you back against the railing of the balcony. He crowds himself around you, leaning in to brush his lips against yours but not quite sealing you in a kiss. Your breath stutters in your chest, your noses grazing together from the proximity. 

“You look handsome yourself,” you whisper against his lips, “I wished so badly to be the one on your arm this evening.”

“You’re all I’ve thought about this whole time,” he assures, hands gripping your waist, pressing himself even closer to you until his hips meet yours, “Every time I look at her, all I can think about is you. I wish it was you I was marrying.”

“Me too,” you whimper, “Owen is such a pig. All he does is talk down to me. He thinks me nothing but stupid.”

Kyle clicks his tongue, “That idiot has no idea what he has. He has everything that I desire and he doesn’t even know how to appreciate the life handed to him.”

He reaches up and cups your cheeks, hands warm and soft against your skin. He smells so good and the dark look in his eyes, illuminated by the moonlight, makes your heart race. 

He can’t seem to help himself anymore, surging forward to press his lips completely against yours. You gasp into the kiss, winding your arms around his neck to pull him even closer. One of his arms winds around your waist, pulling you up onto your tiptoes so your chest is pressed completely against his. 

“I adore you,” he breathes before kissing you again, unwilling to break the kiss for more than a second as he talks, “I’ve never wanted anyone in my life more than you.”

As you’re hidden away on this balcony, secretly kissing the man you truly love while your betrothed is waiting for you to return back to him just down the hall, you feel tears pricking your eyes. You sniffle and Kyle pulls back, eyes softening at the sight of your tears.

“What is it, my heart?” he asks, thumbing your tears away despite the way more takes their place.

“I love you, Kyle,” you confess. 

“And I love you,” he smiles but it only makes you cry harder.

You pull him snug against you, hugging him as tightly as you can. He hums, winding his own arms around you to return the hug. His large hand rubs your back until you’re left just sniffling and hiccuping.

“I hate this,” you whimper, “I wish I could marry you.”

“I know, my heart,” he sighs, pulling back to cup your cheeks again, “These cards we’ve been dealt in this life are so unfair.”

“How am I supposed to marry that man when you’re all I want?” you ask, taking his hand in yours.

He nods his head, “I feel the same. I know for a fact you’re who I’m meant to be with.”

A silence lulls between the two of you as you both lament the lives you’ve been given. While you both had everything materialistic one could want, neither of you could have what you really, truly desired. 

With you still tucked against him, he whispers in your hair, “We should be getting back before anyone misses us.”

“I don’t want to,” you whine, “I want to stay here with you forever.”

“I know, my heart,” he mutters, “I wish that were possible.”

You sigh and haphazardly straighten your clothes out, “Let’s get the rest of this evening over with.”

“You head in first,” he urges you to the door with a hand on your back, “We don’t want anyone to see us come back together.”

You turn around and lean up, pressing one final, fleeting kiss against his lips before you turn and disappear through the doors. Leaving him behind makes your heart feel like a lead weight in your chest but you push through it and force one foot in front of the other down the winding halls.

You follow the sounds of the party still going, music and bustle of people getting louder and louder the closer you get. Stepping back inside, you notice everyone’s chatting happily and eating cake. Your eyes scan the crowd before falling on your fiance who is still chatting away with the same noblemen as before. You take a sharp breath, steeling yourself as you approach him, plastering a practiced, fake smile on your face.

“Ah, there you are!” he greets with a broad grin, “I’m sorry I didn’t get you a piece of cake. I didn’t quite feel like holding it.”

You suppress the urge to roll your eyes and instead shrug your shoulders, “That’s quite okay. I didn’t want any anyway.”

Your fiance nods, “Probably a good idea. Don’t want my betrothed putting on weight before the wedding!”

He and his friends laugh and anger flushes through you. Your jaw hurts from how hard you clench it shut so you don’t snap at your fiance. You catch movement out of the corner of your eye and turn to see Kyle’s fiance rushing up to him. He catches her as she throws herself into his arms and you once again feel the sting of jealousy. 

You avert your gaze and tune in and out of the boring conversation your fiance is engaged in. 

“Say, have you been crying, darling?” he asks, finally taking note of your red-rimmed eyes.

“Oh, no,” you laugh softly, “I’m afraid I’ve been struck down with a nasty case of allergies. All these roses must be emitting some dreary amounts of pollen.”

“Ah,” he nods, taking a bite of his cake as he looks around at the array of roses decorating the ballroom. “That makes sense. They are quite beautiful though. Perhaps we should have some planted once we’re married.”

You plaster on a fake smile again, “Maybe.”

He sends a smile to you in return before turning his attention back to the other men. You promptly tune out and let your eyes glance across the hall, hoping this entire ordeal will be over soon. 

Before long, the party begins winding down and people begin to leave, bidding goodbye to one another.

“Oh, Lord Garrick,” your fiance greets as said man comes up to the two of you.

“Hello,” Kyle smiles, “I just thought I’d come and say goodbye.”

“Oh yes, goodbye, My Lord,” Owen bows.

Kyle turns his gaze to you and lifts your hand to his lips, giving you one last kiss goodbye. You wish so badly you could feel his lips press against yours again but you know that won’t be happening again for a terribly long time.

“I believe the next time we’ll meet will be your upcoming wedding,” Kyle said as he straightened up.

“Most likely,” you nod, “Unless someone plans to have another party again.”

Kyle huffs a laugh, “I wouldn’t hold my breath.”

You smile at the sound of his laugh. His fiance tugs on his arm, bidding both you and Owen goodbye before they’re off.

“I guess we should head off as well,” he says, much to your relief.

Your bed sounds absolutely heavenly right about now. And you, quite honestly, just want to get away from your pig of a fiance and put this night behind you. 

Before you know it, the wedding is just a few days away and anxiety practically consumes you. It seems like the days pass all too quickly. The apprehension of a wedding you want no part of seemingly making it creep up faster. 

Your days are filled with wedding preparations. You and Owen spend your time sampling food to decide the wedding menu and signing invitations that are to be sent out as soon as possible. It’s a rather dreary time.

One weekend, you finally have a chance to escape the anxiety-inducing manor. You make your way into town, intent on doing a little shopping for yourself.

You’re wandering from shop to shop – thankful that you’ve managed to get out without any of the help on your tail. It was all hands on deck as the manor was prepared for the wedding and after-party, except for you, that is. 

You’re busy looking at an array of expensive, imported fabrics when someone calls your name from behind. You whip your head around and find Kyle standing there, pretty, brown eyes wide and sparkling.

“Kyle,” you whisper.

He says your name again, taking a few, long strides over to you until he’s standing in front of you, “I was passing by and I swore I saw you in here.”

“It’s me,” you smile, already feeling your heart race at having him so close to you once again. 

“I see that,” he laughs, raking his gaze down your body before finding your eyes once again, “You look lovely as always.”

“Thank you,” you feel your cheeks flush at the compliment, “What are you doing in town?”

“I had some errands to run,” he explains with a shrug, “What about you? I’m surprised to see you out and about with the wedding preparations.”

You huff, crossing your arms over your chest, “I managed to find an opportunity to get out of there while everyone was preparing the venue for the wedding. You should see the place, it’s a frightful vision with all the decorations and flowers.”

“Ah, of course,” he hides his laugh behind his hand, “The wedding is awfully close now isn’t it?”

Your smile fades and you hum, anxiously turning to look at the fabrics again, “3 days away, I’m afraid.”

Kyle falls silent behind you, watching as you comb through the materials. Your shoulders seem so heavy and there are dark circles under your eyes that no amount of powder on your face could hide. 

He reaches forward and snags your hand up in his, “Come with me.”

“Where?” you ask but eagerly follow behind him as he leads you out of the store. He could lead you to the end of the world and you’d follow him.

The streets are noisy and bustling, thousands of people going about their day and lives. It feels nice to not be tailed by your servants because this way you can just feel like a normal person in society. With your hand tucked within Kyle’s, you almost feel like a regular couple going about your day together. 

Kyle leads you through the maze of the streets before the two of you find your way to his carriage. The horses idly lift their hooves and step back down, clearly antsy to get going.

“Where’s your driver?” you ask when he opens the door for you.

“Left him at home,” Kyle answers easily, “Don’t worry I’m an excellent driver. You’re in good hands.”

“I’m not worried,” you giggle, sitting back when he slams it shut for you. 

The spicy, floral scent that seems to always waft off him still lingers in the cabin. The carriage rocks as Kyle hoists himself up into the driver’s seat, taking the reins for the horses before setting off. 

The hustle and bustle of town is left behind as the two of you make your way to a destination you don’t know. You look out the window, admiring the view of nature. With the gentle lull of the carriage and the soft sound of the horse’s hooves on the ground, you realize just how sleepy you are. The wedding preparations were apparently more exhausting than you realized.

Your name sweetly being called is what roused you. A soft hand cups your cheek and you open your eyes to see the handsome face of Kyle.

“We’re here,” he coos, taking your hands to help you stumble out of the carriage.

You look around, finding yourself standing in front of an imposing manor.

“Where’s here?” you mumble, rubbing the sleep from your eyes.

“Another manor that my family owns,” he says, slamming the door. 

“I see,” you hum, taking a look around. It’s a lovely place with neatly trimmed hedges and a fountain in the center of the circle driveway. 

“What about the servants here?” you ask, allowing him to lead you up to the grand doors.

“There aren’t any here at the moment,” he assures, “All the servants are currently occupied with my own wedding preparations. You don’t have to worry, we’re alone here.”

“That’s lucky,” you laugh, sharing a soft look with him.

Once the two of you are inside, you take in the beautiful manor. There’s a beautiful staircase and the walls are adorned with expensive paintings, some of which you recognize yourself despite not being too knowledgeable on art. 

“This was to be my home after my marriage,” he explains, waving for you to follow him up the stairs to the next story.

“I see…” you hum, trailing your fingertips over the beautiful wood banister but then pause, “What do you mean ‘was’?”

He stops in front of a door and pushes it open with a soft creak. You peek inside and discover a lavishly decorated bedroom. Being alone inside of a bedroom with a man who is not your fiance was incredibly improper. But Kyle is the man you love so you step inside with your heart racing in your chest. It feels so wrong, this rule was implemented in you your whole life being broken like this.

“I mean,” he hums, “If you’ll hear me out on what I have to say then the wedding will no longer be on. Neither will yours.”

Your heart lurches up into your chest as he leads you to take a seat beside him on the edge of the bed. He takes your hand in both of his, cupping it in his lap, stroking his thumb across your knuckles.

“What are you saying?” you ask, voice tight.

“I’ve been thinking about it for a long time,” he explains, “I want you. I don’t want to see you married off to that pig of a man they’ve set you up with. I don’t think I can live a life married to someone else when all I can think about every single day is you.”

“Kyle…” you whisper, squeezing his hand tightly, “Are you saying you want to call off the weddings? Our families wouldn’t–”

“No,” he grumbles, “I don’t want to call off the weddings. I want to marry you. Our families would never allow it but,” he takes a deep breath, “If we’re not under their charge anymore then what can they possibly do?”

“You want to run away?” you gasp, anxiety filling your chest when he nods, “But that-!”

“Our lives would be infinitely harder,” he smiles ruefully, “We wouldn’t have any of the comforts we have now. Our families wouldn’t support us. We’ll be disgraced by society and our friends. It’ll be hard but it would mean we can be together like we desire.”

“Kyle…” you whisper, eyes wide as you stare at him. 

“I understand it’s daunting. And if you choose to tell me no then I will do as you wish and continue to live my life this way,” he breathes, “I will continue to live with the agony of only getting to see you in secret, if that’s what you wish. But…” he reaches forward and cups your cheek in one big hand, “If you say yes then I will kiss you right now and I will show you just how much I love you and how much I need you to be mine.”

Your lips are parting before you can even make heads or tails of your own thoughts, “Yes, Kyle.”

Just as he promised, he surges forward and presses his soft lips against yours. The kiss is desperate and heated with one of his hands moving to cup the back of your head, keeping your lips firmly planted on his. 

You whimper into the kiss, the euphoria of having your love’s lips once again too much to bear. You feel the bedding beneath you as he pushes you down, holding his own weight above you with one hand to avoid crushing you. But you crave to feel his body against yours. 

You wrap one arm around his waist and pull him closer so his chest is flush with yours. Despite the layers of clothes separating the two of you, you can feel his body heat permeating through to you. 

That spicy, floral scent that wafts off of him is all around you. Your heart flutters in your chest and your hands tremble like leaves in the wind as you desperately grasp at him. He doesn’t break the kiss, even as you feel the hardened press of his member between your thighs. 

The air feels thick with every inhale, a foggy haze settling over your mind the deeper the kiss gets. After a moment, he finally breaks the kiss only to dive down to press his lips to your neck. His hands flutter around your clothes, working the buttons and ties open so the fabric can easily be pulled away from your body.

With every inch of bare skin exposed, his lips touch upon it and goosebumps rise in response. Your trembling fingers grip the expensive fabric of his shirt, needing to feel grounded to him as his lips wrap around one of your nipples.

You whine, back arching when his hand comes up to roll and pinch your other nipple between his fingers. You’d never been touched like his before and it felt electrifying, each swirl of his hot tongue making your thighs twitch where they rest around his lithe hips. 

“Kyle,” you gasp, “C-Can you–?”

“What?” he asks, barely separating from your breast to ask.

“T-Take off your shirt,” you request, cheeks feeling impossibly hot from the new stimulating pleasure your body is receiving. 

He chuckles, parting from the torture he’s inflicting on your nipple to sit up on his heels. He pulled off his suit coat, letting it fall to the floor. You watch with wide eyes as he pulls his tie free from around his neck before his fingers drift to his waistcoat to pull the buttons apart. You follow those long, pretty fingers as they meticulously undo his shirt button by button until the smooth expanse of his chest is exposed to your greedy eyes.

You reach up and slide your hands up his chest, pushing the articles of clothing off of his shoulder until he lets them drop to the floor to join his jacket. 

He’s on top of you again in seconds, large hands gripping your waist, your skin dimpling under the grip he has on you. You whimper when he cups your breasts, thumbing over your nipples as you sigh in pleasure. 

“Will you let me undress you completely, my heart?” he whispers, sounding breathless. 

“Yes, please, Kyle,” you nod, eagerly lifting your hips so he can free your lower half of the last bit of clothes that cover your body. 

He sucks in a deep breath when your pretty form is fully exposed to his gaze for the first time. He knew you were beautiful but like this, with shy hands over your bare breasts and smooth thighs clenched tightly together to hide the most intimate part from his greedy, prying eyes.

“You’re magnificent,” he whispers as if any louder would break the sanctity the two of you have cultivated together in this bedroom, “Why do you hide from me?”

“I-I don’t know,” you respond, cheeks burning hot as you avoid his gaze, “I feel so shy like this.”

He smiles, pretty teeth on full display, eyes crinkle up when he does. Gentle hands cupping your knees, he tenderly strokes your skin, “There’s no reason to be shy around me. I adore every inch of you and your body. Won’t you let me admire you like you deserve?”

His gaze is so soft and kind that you feel your body relax at his assurance. Your arms fall to your sides, letting him see those pretty tits again. His mouth waters at the sight of your perked nipples. 

But then you let your thighs fall open and the prettiest little cunt he ever could have imagined opens up to his greedy eyes. Your folds are shiny with a layer of slick and his tongue suddenly feels much drier than it did a second ago.

He realizes, in that moment, that he needs nothing more than to quench this apparent thirst right there between your legs. 

You gasp when he grips beneath your knees and spread you open even wider. Your hands fly to cover your face, unable to take the embarrassment that floods through you when his face gets closer and closer to your pussy. 

Two fingers dip into your folds, a loud, sticky noise sounding when he parts them. Your clit is puffy and swollen while your little hole twitches and drools messily at the contact. Slowly, almost painfully so, his tongue falls from his mouth to lick a wide strip over your cunt. You practically wail when his tongue drags over your clit, the little bud hard and twitchy against his muscle. 

His lashes flutter at the sound. It encourages him to lick over the bud again. It earns him another sound, like a little reward for every correct touch he gives you.

He focuses there, pinning your hips down when you start twitching and wiggling beneath him. His tongue swirls and swirls around your clit, drool and slick coating his chin and dripping down to the bed. He doesn’t care, the mess isn’t even on his radar. He’;s too lost in the sweet taste of you dancing on taste buds. You taste better than the most exquisitely crafted meal he’s ever had in his life. 

Your hands slam down to grab the bedding, fisting it desperately until the fabric creaks under your grip. The feeling of his tongue swirling and licking your clit is too much, you feel like you can’t take a breath deep enough. He moans and sighs softly into your cunt with every sweet little sound you gift to him.

One of his fingers finds your entrance, the little hole clenching pathetically around nothing. 

He detaches his lips from your clit, swallowing the sweet slick filling his mouth before asking, “Have you ever touched yourself here before?”

Your cheeks flush unbearably hot at the question but find yourself shaking your head, “N-No.”

He sweetly smiles at you, “I’ll be gentle.”

He hums thoughtfully and after a second, he begins sliding one of his fingers into you. It burns, even that minute stretch and his heart aches at the wince on your face. He leans forward and lets his tongue find your clit again, slurping it into his mouth so he can wrap his lips around it. The feeling makes your entire body tremble, your jaw falling open but no sounds actually come out. 

He doesn’t let you think too much about this feeling, using your relaxed, almost brainless state to introduce a second finger. It finally makes a whine break through from your chest, back arching and eyes rolling back into your head once he sinks them to the last knuckle. 

You never would have thought that something like this could feel so good. Your brain feels hazy, like no coherent thoughts can form. All you can focus on is how wonderful it feels to have Kyle’s thick fingers stuffed inside you while his pretty lips suckle on your sensitive clit. 

“K-Kyle!” you wail, feeling a hot ball swell up in your tummy.

“What is it, my heart?” he coos, looking up at you through his lashes. 

“I-Is it supposed to feel like this?” you meekly ask, lips swollen from biting them through your pleasure.

“Like what?” he asks, slowly moving his fingers snug inside your walls, careful not to hurt you. You’re coating them in sweet, syrupy slick and it’s a marvelous sight.

You twitch when he does that, your head falling back against the pillows, “Good.”

“You deserve nothing but pleasure, my heart,” he coos, eyes locking back onto the sight of his fingers stuffed inside your cunt. 

When he pulls them back, they’re coating in a milky white sheen. The sight makes him moan under his breath, carefully fucking you with them in preparation for something bigger. He keeps the pace slow, not wanting to overwhelm you with pleasure. His fingers crook upwards, hitting that gooey little spot inside that makes your hips buck up. Your cheeks burn when you hear the filthy, wet, sticky noises that come from where he’s fucking you open on his fingers.

He can’t believe he gets to see you like this; open and exposed for him. Any ounce of shyness has completely evaporated, allowing him full view of you in your basest, dirtiest state. 

“I’m a lucky man,” he huffs to himself, still fucking his fingers into that perfect spot in your cunt. You’re making the sweetest sounds and twitching so cutely on the bed from how good he’s making you feel on just his fingers alone.

You can’t even bring yourself to answer, too consumed with how fucking good it feels being fucked with his fingers. While you’re too dizzy to even think straight, he brings a third finger to your hole. 

It burns when he pushes it in but he brings his thumb up to rub your clit. You relax again, pain and pleasure mixing intoxicatingly, allowing the third digit to easily slide in alongside the others. 

He has you worked open on his three fingers, fuller than you’ve ever been in your life. You’re so hot and wet inside that it feels like his skin is burning, he can’t wait to know what it feels like to have you speared on his cock. 

“K-Kyle, wait!” you wail, reaching down to grip his wrist.

He freezes, letting you push his hand away. His fingers slide out of your cunt, your little hole clenching around nothing now that it was empty.

“What is it?” he asks, panic gripping his throat, “Did I hurt you?”

“N-No, I just…” you’re panting as you clumsily sit up, “I-I just wanted a break. It was…a lot.”

His anxiety melts off of him and he smiles, “Alright.”

“Can I…” you look down at his own pants where you can see the bulge of his cock against his thigh. Even clothed, it’s intimidatingly big. You swallow down the anxiety at the sigh and reach out to palm at him.

“Oh, let me undress,” he pants, quickly shedding the last few layers until he’s as naked as you are. 

His cock is long, thick and pretty. It’s hard, twitching against his stomach as it drools precum down the shaft. You lick your lips and reach your hand out, glancing at his face to make sure that he’s okay with it before your hand wraps around him. He sighs, shoulders relaxing where he stands at the first bit of pleasure on his neglected cock.

He reaches down to guide your hand, showing you how he likes to be stroked. Your movements are clumsy and your grip is unsure but the sight of his fat cock wrapped up in your pretty hand is enough to make his cock drool messily all over himself.

“Can I…” you look up at him, pretty eyes sparkling, “Can I use my mouth like you did for me?”

His cock twitches at the question, imagining what it would feel like to have his cock buried in your tight, hot throat. But he finds himself shaking his head despite how badly he wants it, reaching out to run his thumb over the seam of your lips. 

“It’s dirty, sweetheart,” he coos, “You don’t need to do that.”

“But you did it for me,” you argue, pouting at his words.

He smiles, “It’s different. I live only to give something as divine as you pleasure, my heart. You don’t need to degrade yourself for me like that,” you open your mouth to argue but he pushes you back onto the bed, “Besides, I want to get to the main event.”

“This isn’t over,” you pout but settle into the pillows, letting him arrange your legs so they’re situated around his hips. 

“Yes, I’m sure,” he laughs, “You are quite stubborn.”

“I’m glad you noticed,” you giggle, feeling incredibly at ease despite the imposing image of his monstrous cock resting on your stomach, showing you just how deep he’s going to reach when he’s inside you.

He leans down, letting his weight rest on one arm above your head. You feel safe, protected under his body like this and can’t help but wind your arms around his neck when you have him so close. 

“Can you just relax for me, my heart?” he asks, lips brushing against your ear as he uses his free hand to direct his cockhead to your drooling entrance, “Just relax…that’s it. So good for me.”

You’re so wet and slippery as he slides the head between your folds that it’s embarrassing. Your body twitches beneath his when he slips the head over your clit before pressing against your entrance again. Your jaw falls open as he pushes inside ever so slowly, centimeter by centimeter.

Your nails bite into his shoulders but he ignores it. He knows it has to burn, has to hurt with how tight your precious little cunt is around his big, fat cock. He forgives you for clawing up his back like this because it’s the least he deserves for bringing your divine body any kind of pain. But he knows it will all be worth it when he’s finally balls deep. 

You’re making the sweetest sounds as he works you open, sinking himself deeper and deeper with every passing second. Before long, he balls are pressing against your ass and his pelvis meets your clit. Your walls seize around him at the pleasure, a moan of his own breaking from his chest. There’s a deep ache from the way the tip prods against your cervix but even that still feels good.

You can’t keep quiet even if you wanted to as he begins slowly and gently working his hips back and forth. You have this delirious look in your eyes, they’re sparkling with your pupils blown wide and you stare at him like he’s a god. This pleasure you’re feeling for the first time is hypnotic, addictive.

“You can’t ever marry anyone else now, my heart,” he coos, gripping your chin so you look at him, “No man will ever be able to satisfy you like I can.”

You shake your head, “Don’t want anyone else, Kyle,” your words are slurred as you speak them, “Only want you. I only love you.”

“That’s right,” he whispers, sweat beginning to bead along his forehead, “Only me. You’re all mine, I won’t ever share you again.”

He pulls back to look between your bodies, seeing the way you’re creaming messily around his cock. It aids in the movements, makes them smoother and deeper. He prods against the gooey, tender little spot deep inside of you that makes your moans pitch higher and your pretty eyes roll back into your head. You’re the vision of sin. 

One of his hands finds yours, threading his fingers between your own as he pins it to the bed. He uses it as leverage to work his cock in and out of you. His hips slap against yours over and over again. 

He hits that tender, sweet little spot inside you that makes lights explode behind your eyelids. You eagerly spread your legs for him, wanting to feel him more and deeper. You’re gasping, moans being punched out of your lungs every time he sinks completely inside you. 

You’re making a mess around his cock, thick strings of sticky cum connecting his hips to yours. Filthy, sticky, wet noises of your cunt being fucked just like it deserves fills the room.

“Kyle,” you huff, jaw falling open as your eyes widen, “I-It feels…”

He knows. God, does he know. He feels the way your walls seize around him, clenching and spasming as the orgasm builds inside of you. His balls draw up, his own orgasm brewing inside him.

“Hold on for me, my heart,” he pants, “I want us to cum together.”

“Wh-What do you mean?” you manage to stumble out, eyes fighting to roll back into your head but you want to see him.

He looks beautiful, sweat coating his skin. The sun is dipping beneath the horizon outside, painting the room in beautiful shades of orange that only make him look ethereal. The light coming in from the window behind him gives him a halo, he looks positively enchanting and you find your mouth suddenly feels dry. 

This man is yours, all yours. He’s yours to hold and to keep. No one can keep you apart anymore. He’s here with you in this bed, sealing his own fate to be with you for the rest of his life because he loves you like he’s never loved anyone else in his life. 

From the day you were born, you were told you were to be with someone else. But you knew, in this moment, that you were truly destined to be with Kyle. You were put on this Earth for the sole purpose of finding him and loving him for the rest of your life. 

You squeeze his hand in his when he leans down, pressing his forehead against yours. You’re both panting and gasping into each other's mouths. 

“Look at me, my heart,” he whispers, cock aching and twitching within the tight, snug, grasp of your precious little cunt, “Don’t look away.”

You wouldn’t be able to look away even if you wanted to. He has you hypnotized, big, pretty eyes are deep pools of black. His pupils are blown impossibly wide and his lashes flutter with every wave of pleasure he feels within your pussy. 

Your body seizes up as that tight thread of pleasure suddenly snaps, “Kyle-!”

His lips meet yours, sealing you into a kiss as his brows furrow. The blissful clenching of your cunt brings him to his own end. He grunts as he spills inside you, rocking his hips to work both of you through the electrifying, dizzying high that you share together for the first time. 

You’re whimpering and whining into his ear as he works the two of you down with lazy, messy humps of his hips. His cock is softening, coated in a hot, sticky layer of your cum and his. It’s a filthy mess, dribbles from his length when he pulls out. Your cunt still clenches through the aftershocks, spilling out onto the bed – not that he cares.

Your arms wind around his waist and you pull him flush against you again. You don’t want him to go anywhere, you crave having his body close to yours as you catch your breath and wait for your heart to stop pounding like a scared rabbit. 

He lays on his side beside you, curling himself around your body as he tucks himself protectively into his chest. There’s a comfortable, soft silence between the two of you. You can hear the birds outside as they chirp and you can hear Kyle’s soft breaths and beating heart.

“We’ll stay here for a few days,” he suddenly says, “After that, everyone will begin looking for us. We’ll  have to leave town by then.”

“Where will we go?” you ask, affectionately kissing his chin so he’ll look down at you.

He smiles, brushing some stray hairs out of your face, thumbing over the soft skin of your cheeks where they’re still flushed hot from your activities. You kiss his thumb when he rubs it over your lips, “I’m not sure. Somewhere that no one will recognize us – where we can start a new life.”

“Anywhere will be a good life as long as I have you, Kyle,” you assure, leaning up to peck his cheek this time.

“I feel the same, my beautiful,” he kisses your forehead, “magnificent,” he kisses your nose, “betrothed to be.”

He seals those words with a sweet, soft kiss to your lips. 

this work belongs to rowarn. do not modify or repost to other websites. reblogs OK!

#kyle garrick smut #kyle garrick x reader #gaz x reader #gaz smut #kyle gaz garrick x reader #kyle gaz garrick smut #kyle gaz x reader #kyle gaz smut #cod x reader #cod smut

[eddieandbird]

Home to you—

Eddie comes home drunk to you.

A/N: missed you guys so much! sorry for dipping in and out so often, but i’ve been really into bridgerton lately and i’ve been only wanting to talk about that. howerver i did conjure up this h*rny little story for eddie, so i hope yall enjoy! -Bird

tags/warnings: 2.7k words | f!reader | boyfriend!eddie | drunk sex | consent checks | f*ngering | pinv | praise kink + nicknames

—

You heard keys jingle at your front door just a few feet outside the bedroom. Your boyfriend was finally home

“Guess who’s back,” Eddie teasingly whispered, trying not to wake you if you were already asleep.

“Is it Eddie?” You deeply inhaled and stretched your arms, your voice was low and sleepy.

Eddie fell into bed with you, his whole weight causing to shake it. You gave a delirious laugh, still waking up.

“You guessed right, sweetheart,” He said before wrapping his arms around you, pulling you in from behind.

“You’re such a smart girl,” Eddie cooed in your ear before running his hands on your stomach and along the waistband of your panties.

“Someone sounds like they had a good time at Gareth’s birthday party,”

Eddie smiled, burying his face in your hair and laughing a bit at the comment.

“I did,” Eddie pulled you closer and nuzzled into your neck, softly kissing as he spoke. “But I’m glad to have my girl back in bed with me.”

You hummed before you pulled up his hand to kiss his palm.

“Mm. Happy you’re home too baby. I don’t know if I’m totally thrilled that you’re hammered, but-“

“Relax, I got a ride home,” Eddie mumbled. His small kisses along your neck was driving you wild.

“Okay, good. At least you made some responsible choices,” You joked.

“I am responsible,” Eddie grinned, his breath warm against your skin.

As you two spoke, Eddie's hand began to trail lower and lower down your stomach. He stopped once he reached your thighs before he gently gripped the soft flesh.

"I can't believe you weren't out with me,” Eddie muttered against your neck.

“I couldn’t help but think about you all night” He whispered.

The tone of his voice sounded sweet in your ear despite his alcohol-fueled state.

“Is that right?” You giggled. “What were you thinking about?” Your voice was quiet but lustful.

Eddie’s fingers slowly teased the lace on your skin, lightly tracing the outline of your thong. His touch was already turning you into mush. Your heat radiated through the thong you wore, the more his fingers trailed around it, Eddie smirked, enjoying the way it made you shiver.

“I was thinking about-” he began as he pulled your body closer to him until you could feel the heat of his breath along your ear.

“The way you sound when I’m on top of you. The way your skin tastes when I kiss every part of you,” He growled.

You let out a soft moan as he repeatedly kissed along your jaw, catching a couple kisses on your lips in the process of turning back to him.

“You sure you’re up for this, baby? It sounded like you stumbled into the room. You might be too drunk,” You said with slight concern, but you also knew what he wanted and you were not in the mood to turn him down.

Eddie laughed a bit. “I’m not too drunk, baby. I've missed you,” he slurred.

He could feel himself getting worked up just being next to you. You could feel him pressing up against your backside.

“You feel that,” he whispered, his voice thick with lust.

Your breathing hitched as you felt his length through the denim of his jeans. He pressed it right against the curve of your ass.

“Of course I feel it,” you scoffed, jokingly.

“That’s all for you,” Eddie started to grind himself against you, his hips slowly rolling into you. “Want you so bad,” He started to breathe heavily against you.

The way he slurred his words would typically annoy you, but they were so endearing when he was whispering dirty nothings into your ear.

“You gonna be a good girl for me? You gonna give me what I want?” He huffed as he worked at you.

“Mhm. Whatever you want, baby,” You said with desire.

Eddie gently rolled you onto your back so he could hover over you.

“That’s what I like to hear,” he whispered, taking a quick second to admire your body. “So gorgeous,” he added as he started to run his hands up and down your thighs.

“You going to be a good girl then? Give me.. a show,” he teased.

“What else do you wanna see?” Your eyes twinkled at him as you pushed one strap off your shoulder.

Your perspective lit flames on your skin. You saw nothing but his big, dark eyes surrounded in his black curls falling down towards you. Eddie watched hungrily as you bared more of your skin for him to look at. His eyes were hazy as he stared back at yours.

Your soft, but quickened breaths filled the air as took the hem of your tank top and lifted it over your head, putting your chest on display for him.

“My pretty, pretty girl,” Eddie groaned, starting to run one of his hands up your legs. He started to run one of his hands up your leg. He could feel the heat of your skin through the silk of your panties as he placed his thumb over it

“Eddie,” You gasped as you felt him tracing around your clit.

“Such a sweet girl,” His finger continued to rub over you, feeling the way your skin got hotter as he applied more pressure. “Missed me that badly?” He whispered before pressing his thumb harder against the spot of wetness. He could feel himself growing harder just listening to the sounds you made. His eyes flicked from your face, to your chest and your shaking legs as he slowly pressed his thumb harder. He could feel how worked up you were, but he still wanted you to hold on and wait for it.

“You’re so needy,” he muttered in your ear with a smirk while rubbing his thumb in small circles over your sensitive bundle of nerves. His dark eyes continued to drink in the sight of you.

“Isn’t that what you wanted when you came in?” You smiled wide, your eyelids heavy as you bucked your hips up into his touch. The fabric now heavily soaked now as he rolled over your aching center. Eddie groaned in response to watching you writhe under him, his eyes still taking in the sight of you while holding you firmly in place with one of his broad hands.

“Maybe a little,” Eddie admitted with a lustful grin. “You want more don’t you?” He teased before leaning down to place open mouthed kisses on your neck, his hot tongue running along your skin.

You shuddered against him, trying your hardest to let him lead you. His pace was torturous but it’s just how you liked it.

“Mhm… I need it,” You nodded and smiled wickedly, your voice stuttering.

“That’s what I like to hear,” Eddie groaned.

He let his thumb go, the absence of the touch making you feel even more strung out.

His hands gripped your underwear and started to pull them down painfully slowly as his dark eyes watched you.

“You’re so goddamn pretty,” he exhaled shakily.

You felt his warm breath surround your legs and your aching center as he dragged the silk underwear down your legs. Your eyes were wide with anticipation as he pawed at your legs.

You couldn’t help but squirm under his touch, desperately wanting more friction between you two. He sat up and spread your legs apart, giving him a full view of you in the moonlight.

“So eager for me,” he teased, the corner of his lip tugging up in a smirk as he ran his hand up your thigh and towards your heat. “Tell me that’s all for me,” He muttered.

“It’s all for you, babe. I’m all yours,” You whispered back, your hips involuntarily lifting as you felt his fingers dragging upwards toward your core. Your hands were placed down at your sides, clawing at your bedsheets.

“That’s my girl,” he groaned as he teased with a smirk before finally running his thumb down between your slit.

He felt the heat and the wetness against his skin, your reaction making him groan louder than he intended to.

“So wet for me,” Eddie muttered before leaning down and placing gentle kisses on your inner thighs. His eyes flicking between watching your face twisted in pleasure

“All yours, Eddie,” You mused.

Your breaths would rise and fall with his touches. The further his touch was from your sensitive button, the softer the moans, only growing with intensity as he got closer. You can feel yourself growing impatient, but you knew to claim the prize, you had to play his game.

You curiously put a hand on his, seeing if he’d let you control the pace of things.

Eddie couldn’t help but laugh as your hand covered his, and let you push his fingers towards where you wanted them with a lazy grin.

“So impatient, baby,” he teased, watching the hand under his, move with it as he reached the spot you desperately wanted him to touch.

You looked up at him, trying to keep your eyes open as you led his hand to rub in just the way you liked. You could tell he wanted to stare back at you, but all he was looking at was how inviting your pussy was, now spilling out love onto the sheets. Watching you make yourself feel good by guiding his touch had him mesmerized.

“My pretty girl. So desperate to be touched,” he breathed, his smirk turning into a mischievous grin as his fingers started to move a bit quicker, rubbing your sensitive bundle of nerves in tight circles.

“You’re so hot like this,” he let out a deep growl as he watched you and continued to work on undoing you while his other hand grabbed at your hip to keep you still.

“Look at you, making such a mess,” Eddie groaned in your ear, his pace increasing slightly, desperate to see you fall apart.

“You see how much I need you?” Your words were ladened with desire between small gasps.

You knew you were getting close to a peak. You gripped around his wrist, making him hold his pace as you were reaching climax.

“I see it, baby,” Eddie mimicked your tone, his gaze never leaving you as he watched you get closer and closer to the edge.

He could see how close you were, the way your body was tensing and you were desperately biting down on your lip.

His pace stayed steady as he watched you, his heart racing from the thought of pleasing you.

“Let go for me, pretty girl,” he muttered, groaning just thinking about it.

“Shit!” You hissed.

With one great thrust of your hips you climaxed against his rough fingers. The once quiet room now echoed back your moan as you came, riding out on his fingers as you went back down.

You laid there in front of him, slightly limp and completely helpless. You giggled briefly before catching your breath.

“Thank you, baby,” You took his hand in yours and kissed his knuckles, looking up at him in adoration.

“Of course, baby,” he cooed, his dark eyes looking down at you.

He moved on top of you, his hands going down to the denim on his hips as he started to unbutton them. “You ready for more?”

“Do you even need to ask?” You laughed some more, your eyes following him as he took off his clothes.

Your breath hitched to see just how hard he was, practically springing out as he shoved off his boxers.

“Oh god, I need you,” You whispered almost inaudibly.

He couldn’t keep the grin off his face as he heard you.

“Say that again,” Eddie muttered, his voice quiet as he hovered above you, his body pressed into yours.

His eyes searched yours as he settled in between your thighs, placing one hand by your head as the other started to trace down your body. “Tell me what you need, baby.”

“I need you inside me,” You shivered, feeling his hands run over your curves.

The heat between both of your legs couldn’t be ignored. You could feel him twitch against your soft entrance, just waiting for him to slip it in. Eddie groaned and closed his eyes as he listened to you, already breathless from the anticipation. His hips buckled against you a bit and he shuddered as he felt the heat between your legs against the tip of him.

“Don’t need to tell me twice,” he groaned before kissing you again.

You moaned back into his mouth, your nails digging into his back as you felt him enter you. He went at an achingly slow pace, but the sensations were too good to complain. His strokes would go all the way out before pumping fast and deep inside you. It drove you mad.

“It-You… You feel good,” You struggled to even comment.

Your eyes were rolling back into your head with each thrust. Eddie grinned at the small compliments, his eyes staying locked on yours as he continued to thrust into you. He watched as your eyes grew heavy and you almost lost your words.

“Can’t even talk anymore, baby?” Eddie’s eyes clenched shut for a moment as your legs surrounded his waist. He groaned at the words that came out of your mouth but he had no intentions on stopping.

He leaned down to kiss you again, the kiss was sloppy and wet as his pace began to quicken. His hand grabbed your thigh, keeping it against him as he picked up the pace.

“You’re such a good girl, taking it all for me,” Eddie said frantically between grunts. His quickened pace only meant one thing. He was going to finish soon.

“Where do you want me to come?” He asked in a trembling breath.

“Where do you want to come? I want you to have what you want,” You said before kissing his forehead, a small moment of affection during the rough, heightened experience. It was as if he could feel himself growing closer with each word and breath that came out of your mouth.

“Inside you,” He declared in a grunt. “I wanna fill you,” The words left his lips before he could even think it through, but the sight of you beneath him, breathless and all

“Go ahead, baby. You can do it,” You said with lustful encouragement.

Your legs wrapped around him tighter as he was rutting against you. Your hand brought his head down to you and brushed away his messy curls. Once you saw his neck you started to suck at the sensitive area right below his jaw. He shuddered at the touch of your lips on his sensitive skin, breathing in deeply as you sucked.

“Fuck,” he moaned, his head tilting back as his breathing became heavier. His body was tensing up, desperate to come undone, but he waited just a moment longer. “You going to come too?” He said, breathless.

“Uh huh,” You mimicked his volume, as you tugged lightly at his hair. He pinned you down pretty well, but there was still space for you to roll your hips up into him and so you did it, knowing it’d be the end of him. Eddie couldn’t keep himself together any longer as he felt your hips roll up into him.

His breath hitched and caught in the back of his throat as his pace slowed, his body tensing up just a little bit more.

Then, after one more roll of your hips, he finally caved. He buried his head against you as you both came, groaning loudly as his hips gave a few sharp thrusts, riding his way through it.

He tried to catch his breath as he laid on top of you, taking a few moments before he pulled away to look at you while panting slightly.

“You okay, pretty girl?” He asked, affectionately running his hand along your jaw.

“Oh everything is perfect,” You exhaled happily.

Eddie let a goofy smile take over his face, and laid down next to you, pulling you into his side as he settled in next to you. Soon you were off back to sleep.

#i deeply apologize for this one i am in heat #eddie munson #stranger things #eddie munson imagine #eddie x reader #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things fanfic

[konigsblog]

König taking care of his pregnant captive...just beign soft and cuddly preparing for arrival of their baby while maus is completely terrified :3

tw/cw; forced pregnancy, kidnapping. 🔞

könig's desire for a loving family grows by the day and has only intensified after finally capturing the woman of his dreams. you're exactly what he needs; a little fuck toy, a breeding mate to take his offspring.

you're distraught, hyperventilating and having panic attacks on the daily over your sudden pregnancy. it wasn't a choice you had made consensually, you didn't want this, not one bit. or at least, you didn't want it to be your kidnapper's babies; you wanted it to be with someone you could trust, love, and depend on.

you plead with könig for a different outcome, for an abortion, but your pleas are ignored and silenced by könig. he'll either silence you by pressing his scarred lips against yours, making out with you despite the way you wiggle and squirm pathetically, attempting to pull away and free yourself from the rope binding your limbs. other days, he tapes your mouth shut and cradles you despite your wails and mortified sobs, attempting to soothe your emotions with his "loving" touch.

if könig's touch is loving and careful, then you're afraid of what his touch is like when he's punishing you, what it's like when könig decides to use pain and torture to silence your sobs for mercy and freedom.

every single day, könig admires your growing, pregnant stomach. könig hesitates allowing you out from the basement after a couple months into your pregnancy, so that you're not in constant fear and terror, worrying about what's out there, hiding in the dark room. he worries that it's too dusty and filthy down there, that you'll inevitably get sick if he doesn't take you from the chamber, allowing you to relax into his large, soft bed while he kisses your large, swollen stomach.

don't worry, maus. once you finally give birth to his twin babies, he'll take tender and gentle care of his beloved captive, the mother to his babies. you'll never see the basement against, ever face a horrible and horrendous punishment that leaves your rear bruised and your cervix in agony.

if you aren't interested in the idea of pregnancy and children, then könig will guilt trip you into loving your twin newborns even if you resent them. he'll do this by forcing them into your arms despite the way you sob out painfully, coming to the realisation that your life will never be the same, forced to accept your fate and role as a mother.

#orla speaks #könig x you #könig x reader #konig x reader #konig x female reader #konig x reader smut #konig cod #konig call of duty #konig mw2 #konig modern warfare #konig mwii #könig fanfiction #könig call of duty #konig fluff #konig headcanons #konig #konig smut #cod konig #konig x you #könig cod #könig #könig mw2

[bunnysbrainrot]

Friendly Competition

Relationship: Joel Miller x f!Reader

Content: Explicit sexual acts, Jackson!AU, no use of y/n, jealousy and angst, mentions of alcohol consumption/intoxication, kissing, fingering, dirty talk, praise kink, soft dom Joel (lowkey)

Summary: It was difficult, but Joel had to set a boundary, one he's having trouble adhering to. And back in Jackson, things aren't any easier. When an old friend comes around, it muddies the waters. Joel tries his best to assure you that it's not what it looks like, but you won't be easily swayed.

Word Count: 5.4k +

Looking for the other chapters? Click here to find them on my masterlist

The ride back to Jackson was much brighter than your journey out. Fluttering in your chest kept you on edge, buzzing down to your fingertips, coursing through you like small bursts of lightning. All over one simple kiss.

Though it had been anything but.

Twenty minutes ago, Joel had you pinned on the wooden fence, moving his lips in tandem with yours, shattering your plaguing tension. Joel wasn't sure when, or if, he'd have made a move if he didn't seize that opportunity. He would've cursed himself if he hadn't tried.

And to his surprise, you had given him everything in return. You accepted his kiss with a dying thirst, and the passion had been for him. Someone, knowing so little of his sins, of his regrets, would give their love so freely. Someone wanted him.

His hands gripped the reins as the edge of Jackson came into view. He had a thousand things to say but didn't know where to begin.

He detested that it had to start here.

He spoke up finally, breaking the calm silence, "Listen, I think we should talk."

It didn't take you by any surprise. Even still, your heart sank.

You made the daunting choice to face him, inviting the conversation. You were asking for the dagger of newfound love to pierce your chest, for it to carve you open.

"Okay," you replied, coaxing your voice into neutrality.

The effort was in vain. There was a tightness in your throat that couldn't be shaken. Your voice shrank, barely coming out as a squeak. The sudden shift didn't go unnoticed by him. What expression of joy that had been there before had been replaced with worry. Joel's eyes averted to the ground. He hated this. Knowing that he spurred on this whole... situation, and worse, that he'd be the one to shatter the hope.

And fuck, the look on your face.

Joel made himself bear it. This was his punishment.

He sighed, "This... what happened back there.." He gestured between you, his words failing him.

The birds chirped happily around you, the only sound filling stagnant space. His half-dead sentence hung with his head. With aching pain in your chest, you finish it for him. You stilled your expression and resolved yourself to turn away. The words feel distant as you say them. They weren't yours - borrowed from the times you'd been through this before.

"It was a mistake."

He was thankful you weren't able to see him wince. Joel digested the words, but showed no agreement to them. He refused to let that be the truth. His breath came out slowly, exasperated.

"You got a habit of finishin' people's sentences, y'know that?"

The jab would've made you laugh were it not for the hole in your chest. And despite the effort made to lighten the mood, the pang of regret in Joel's chest grew.

He continued, voice terse, "If you think it was a mistake, then we can forget it. But, regardless-" he stopped himself, searching for the gentlest words. A way to make this painless.

"It can't happen again."

Telling yourself it was a mistake had not made it true, and had not prepared you for those final words. They were a death sentence.

You still held the lead, but you no longer feel his stare, the occasional glance. You were thankful for the distance, for the small amount of privacy it gave you to let welling tears fall. Jackson loomed even closer, just minutes away if Belle were to go at full speed. A frantic urge tore at you to race ahead, like breaking away would erase what happened - like it would take back what was already said and done.

There were a million things to say, but you knew it wouldn't change his stance. You mustered a small, simple nod. Joel didn't expect much after a blow this low. He understood the silence, for whatever reason you needed it - he anticipated anger, hoped for it, even. Welcomed it. It would give him closure after the shitshow he created.

If you left, forgot about all this trouble he caused, Joel could shift his focus elsewhere. It had been a futile effort since you came to town. You were a distraction. The worst kind.

It was enough justification, Joel thought, to be okay with this. To let things between you go stale. Untouched.

Dismounting Belle back at the ranch relieved your body, but your mind and heart were different matters. Joel dropped from his horse without a word, already started on the process of unloading his gear. You watched him as he's turned, noting a lower slump to his shoulders.

You shifted your attention back to Belle, mindlessly disassembling her gear. Your fingers fumbled dumbly with the buckles of her saddle, new tears blurring your vision. The silence between you and Joel this morning had been uncomfortable, but this....

Silence like this was far too heavy. It held too many unspoken words, and even more questions.

The quiet was no longer an issue when a new voice rung around the stables, cheery and bright.

"Joel!" It was the voice of a woman, "Oh my gosh, back already?"

You peered around Belle just in time to see her arms wrapping around Joel's neck, giving him a close hug. The stranger let out a delighted giggle before she nestled her face into the crook of his neck. Joel murmured something inaudible that broke the embrace.

Her small talk was empty save for obvious flirtations, her voice turning whiny and playful as she spoke. You couldn't help but cringe at her sickly sweet tone, the incessant pushing. Joel said very little, but that stupid grin never fell from her face. Her wide, green eyes drank him in. As if you weren't even there, ten feet away, privy to it all.

Bitch.

With an undetected sneer, you finish unloading and take Belle's lead in hand. You settle your rage to simmer beneath the surface while you lead Belle out of the stables.

--

This was the last thing he needed right now. But here she was, thrown around his neck unashamedly, as if she'd been waiting so impatiently for his return. A slap in the face, compared to the situation he'd put you in an hour ago. You had truly been waiting for him. It had to be some sort of cosmic joke.

Joel placed a hand on her shoulder and gave a wry smile.

"Wasn't gone that long, Georgia."

Her eyes brighten hearing her name on his lips. The smile she wore was a stab to the gut. It shouldn't be her that was beaming, welcoming him, showing concern for his safety. Hers was not the face he wanted to fantasize about throughout his day. To come home to.

He patted her shoulder, hiding his contempt with a softer, weary smile, "Pretty tired after today, sorry. Not really feelin' it."

This wasn't the first time Georgia had been this doting. But the openness of it irked him, especially with the present company.

"Hmmm.... Sounds like someone needs to unwind," she suggested, lips tugging into a smirk. A serpentine look with her eyes crinkling proudly while a greedy smile formed. She always had a deeper motivation. He saw that spark igniting in her mind.

In the past, they had shared their need for intimacy - they fulfilled that need many times. She was a nice enough girl, he supposed. Joel thought it would be simple. No strings attached.

If he didn't turn her away soon, there was no telling how this evening would go. His need for a distraction almost tempted him into agreeing, but a flare of guilt in his chest instantly washed away the idea. It was unfathomable to think of this woman when you were so close by. And not when he was trying to still the feelings you'd brought about for him.

He stiffened, crossing his arms over his chest, "Tonight's not the best night. Gotta do a raincheck this time."

Even still, her smile didn't falter. If there was one thing she was worst at, it was taking a damn hint.

Georgia's eyes dart to the horse that started to leave the stables. She covered her mouth to stifle a giggle, her eyes wide in amusement. She whispered to him, pointing to the horse and who was guiding it outside.

"Uh oh, apparently we had company~"

Joel knew of said 'company'. Glaringly so.

He steeled himself as he joined Georgia in watching you leave. He noted how she watched you go with satisfaction, how her smile grew once you rounded the corner. Her joy was in such stark contrast to the anguish that flooded through him, seeping into his bones.

You didn't look back as you left.

I'm lost in admiration Could I need you this much? Oh, you're wasting my time- "You're just - just- just wastin' time-" you sang out, the lyrics slurring together. You refused to let yourself wallow, so you opted for the best way to forget. Alcohol.

It was better than dealing with stupid Joel and his stupid rules.

Plus, it detached the meaning of the lyrics, the ones about being overwhelmingly in love, being completely enamored with someone, unable to be without them. The cassette tapes you had collected were few, but Tears for Fears were a classic you played the most often.

"Something happens and I'm head over heels-" you sang out, swaying your hips with the beat. A brief fantasy flashed in your mind of Joel joining in from behind, holding you while you danced and sang. You envisioned him singing along, his voice low and gentle, even though you'd never heard him do so.

Yet the lyrics carried you away alone. You closed your eyes, letting the rhythm take you, a cup of mead in hand. Granted, it was probably a poor decision for Pete to give you a whole bottle to yourself, probably worse for you to have downed two glasses. But you felt free right now, blissfully ignorant to the outside world.

Until it came, quite literally, knocking at your door.

The rapping broke you out of your dancing. You panted softly as you paused the cassette player, the room growing uncomfortably still in the silence. Perhaps you kept the neighbors awake with your singing. Frosted glass on the front door revealed a familiar silhouette, making you freeze. Heat coursed through you as you reached for the handle, pulling the door open just enough to see your visitor.

Joel stood at the top of the steps to the house. He wore his usual serious expression, though it eased at the sight of you.

Whatever confidence the mead gave you earlier had vanished - the sudden appearance was sobering enough on its own. Your flushed cheeks were clear evidence of how you were dealing with this afternoon, that you wanted to forget what happened. Joel clenched his jaw, remorseful yet again. He was causing this, but had been desperately searching for a solution, in his own way. Unfortunately, 'his way' hadn't earned him many favors in the past. Joel knew that his abrasiveness would wear you down, your bright spirit, that light in your soul. If that didn't, then learning of his past certainly would - the heinous things he'd done to survive, the lives he'd ruined. They hadn't all been guilty, either, so the validity of 'survival' was in question. Those years held the most regret. Now he stood on your doorstep, carrying this invisible burden. He straightened his spine and squared out his shoulders, shifting nervously on his feet.

Maybe seeing you was the worse option. Maybe he was rubbing salt in the wound.

You straightened, frantically building your composure. Blush crept onto your cheeks as you greeted him in your bedclothes, glass of mead still in hand. Your oversized shirt and sleep shorts did little to help you look presentable and ready for the unexpected company.

"Hi," you greeted softly.

The smile you were longing to see was back. A rare softness had returned to Joel's features. He placed his hands on his hips.

Joel smiled down at you, his gaze tender, "Evening."

His damned voice could get you drunk on its own. That intoxicating Southern accent was as sweet and deep as whiskey.

The hair on the nape of your neck stood on end. This was the exact opposite of what you wanted. You needed the space and freedom to forget about Joel, and he landed at your doorstep.

He'd changed out of his old clothes, his hair tidier than before. Though he wasn't close enough to tell, you swore you caught a brief whiff of cologne. And here you were, in your pajamas, hair loose and unbrushed, completely unprepared.

You stammered, "Do- uhm... do you want to come in?"

Affection shone in his eyes at your flustered state; he gave you a once over, chuckling slightly. Joel prepared himself for this - truly prepared himself, in ways he hadn't done in months. Hell, he even found himself putting on cologne. He'd just gone to change his shirt, but the thought of seeing you after the fiasco from earlier had him fully prepared. Fully presentable.

There was a beat of silence that let Joel's eyes wander over your form. His gaze burned through your thin sleep shirt, roving over your bare legs with a greed that slipped through the cracks in his composure.

You stood in front of him with wide eyes, holding yourself around the waist, a new type of vulnerability you hadn't yet shown. He eyed the way you bit your lip, his focus whisked away by desire. Your outfit didn't help suppress Joel's imagination, either - it was the most exposed you'd been in front of him. He found himself selfishly taking you in, fully and properly.

Those shorts did no favors in hiding the curves of your thighs; your shirt did even more disservice to his willpower. It was thin, too thin. It hung off one shoulder to reveal your collarbone to him, hanging loosely at your chest, displaying your nipples poking against the fabric.

He snapped back to attention, clearing his throat before making his way inside, "Sure, thanks."

The door snapped shut behind you, keeping you and Joel in the new stifling proximity. You motioned generally to the space.

"Make yourself at home," you told him, the awkwardness slowly easing away. You made for the kitchen sink to return your half-downed glass of mead, breathing away your nerves. Joel took the cue in his own way, finding himself leaned comfortably against the kitchen counter, feet away from you.

His stare had hardened. You braced for another lecture.

"What happened back at the stables, I-"

Reintroducing the events erupted jealousy in your chest, and the residual buzz from the mead aired it out. You snapped, though the hurt was still evident in your cracked voice. There was no time for small talk. There could be no casual 'how was your day?' after what happened.

"Who was she?" Your demand struck him. He knew this would come.

Joel pressed his lips into a thin line before answering.

"Her name's Georgia. We've been friends for a while." He hooked his thumbs in his belt loops, avoiding your stare. He didn't want to confront the reality of his words, how they would pain you.

The words were chosen carefully, cherrypicked to be as vague as possible. He didn't want to explain Georgia when all he wanted was to dissolve her from his memory. Didn't want to see the hurt in your eyes, searching to understand.

It wasn't enough for you. It was a bullshit answer.

"Friends is the right term for it?" You pressed. Joel's eyes dart to yours before he pinched the bridge of his nose, sighing.

The term was empty as Joel's feelings for the other woman. He didn't spend much casual time with Georgia; he didn't enjoy her company. In truth, she was irritating - her only humor was harsh jokes, she was too invested in drama. But she was available at the time.

He should've waited. He didn't want to believe anyone else would come along, let alone as alluring as you. If Joel knew Georgia would've become such a pain, he wouldn't have entertained her to begin with.

His eyebrows knit together, "Do we really have to do this right now?"

"Yes, Joel," you hissed, "You're not gonna bullshit me - I already know. I know she's not a friend. People who are 'just friends' don't... act like that." You quote the words in the air. The anger had bubbled over the surface, just as Joel had anticipated.

In contrast to your outburst, Joel stood unyielding in his story.

He began, "We have history, alright?"

Your face flashed to frustration, but he continued, raising a hand to stop you. "It's been over a year. She had it out with her fiancé couple weeks back - she's just... dealing with it in her own way."

You scoffed, "So, you're fucking someone else's fiancée. Nice, Joel."

Joel's features hardened. His morals had been perpetually grayscale, so he didn't pay mind to the consequences of his choices. Georgia had been his escape, his secret, and now his biggest mistake.

"Was. Was fucking."

You countered, "Like that makes it better."

Joel doesn't expect his correction to change your feelings, but it's something. You snapped your mouth shut, exhaling deeply as you followed his suit, leaning against the kitchen counter. You took a deep breath before carrying on.

"So, what changed?"

It could've been a one word answer if Joel had the balls to admit it right then. His efforts had been to avoid complication. But he knew what he said next could shape everything.

So he opted for honesty. A vulnerable admission. The slight numbing in his fingers and pounding heart made him feel young again, in a way. He hadn't felt this jittery in decades. Joel wrung his hands together, nodding once. He'd made his choice.

"You came to Jackson."

Joel recalled the day you approached the massive gate, hobbling from a sprained ankle that wouldn't heal properly. He took watch from the wall, observing Jackson's newcomer from the vantage point, watching you depart with Maria. Despite your obvious injury, you kept a smile on your face, being grateful to have found safety.

It wasn't until your first group patrol that he saw you again. That time you were closer, and he was finally able to make out your features. Your wide eyes and a growing blush gave him a warm confidence. None of the other newbies had looked at him like that before. But, that time as well, he turned away.

He would be a fool to do it again.

"Things changed when you showed up, and I've been doing my best to keep things normal. I wanted to think that, at first, it was just some... y'know, mild flirting. And I liked that, I really did," Joel slowly inched closer as he continued. "I tried tellin' myself that it was nothing, but I can't find truth to that anymore."

Your legs turned to lead, unable to move, unable to deny him. Each nearing step heated your stomach, flipped it over itself, and shot your heart to your throat. Joel now stood inches away, pinning you against the counter like he'd done at the fence.

"I tried convincing myself a lot of things. That you wouldn't feel the same, that maybe I was misreading things, or maybe it was all just- just some dumb crush, or whatever." It felt stupid to say it, but that was the feeling. A crush.

It was laughable, an old man like him feeling that young love again. Yet, here was someone who could consume his full attention with a single smile. You had a depth of feeling and care that he couldn't measure up to, not in a lifetime. There was no undoing his damage.

You didn't share that belief.

Your eyes flickered to his as you raised a hand to his cheek. The scruff of his beard itched into your palm, your fingers carding into the salt-and-pepper hair. His skin was weathered and warm, tanned from years under the Texas sun. The crinkles around his eyes displayed both his age and his affection. They tightened a certain way when he smiled - you wondered if he knew that about himself, the simple beauties of him. Subtle details that only one in love would notice.

You lowered your voice to a whisper, "Well, do you think you have it figured out now?"

His stare lingered on your lips too long. As good as his poker face was, Joel's eyes gave his desire away. Your gentle touch thawed out his hardened look. He sighed softly.

Joel knew that his answer would seal his fate. He would have to accept any 'complications' that followed.

Wordlessly, Joel dipped his head lower, brushing his lips tentatively over yours. Your hand slipped behind his head to draw him in, to take those last few millimeters and shove them aside, to take it all.

You released a wanton moan past Joel's parting lips. He took it on with his own low groan - a deep, possessing noise that pooled heat between your legs. It was Joel's body pressing you to the counter that kept you stable, but his adventurous hands did you no favors. He broke his mouth from yours, panting.

"Do you have any idea how hard this's been for me?" His breath was hot against your neck, slowly creeping to your ear. "With all your damn teasin', it's been hard to hold myself back. Shit, I tried."

His words melted your core. You shifted your thighs together to find the evidence of your desire, just how wet you'd gotten.

A warm, open kiss landed under your jaw, making you shudder. A small moan left you involuntarily. Such a bright, mystifying, intoxicating sound that had Joel breathless against your skin. His hands found your waist, gaining purchase on the fabric of your shirt, tugging desperately at its hem.

You bucked your hips forward, only to find a growing bulge in Joel's worn jeans, firm and warm against your belly. Drool pooled in your mouth at the feeling of him, and your hands itched to reach downward.

Joel's hands cupped under your ass, kneading into the soft flesh before he hoisted you up and onto the kitchen counter. The biting cold of it pressed into your legs, quickly replaced with Joel's warmth gliding over skin, each shuddering breath coursing through you.

His mouth worked down to your collarbone, his sentences were broken between kisses laid along your collarbone.

"You knew it, too, didn't you, sweetheart?" Kiss. Joel's hands still idly toyed with the hem of your shirt, slowly inching his fingers under it. You throw your head back against the cabinet, rolling your hips forward as invitation.

"You knew what you were doin', flirting with me like you've been-" He lowered himself down, kissing over the fabric of your shirt, letting it stand between you for now.

Greedy hands crept up your thighs, igniting your skin along the way. Tightness grew in your abdomen while he moved along, planting hot kisses across your chest. Joel worked meticulously to deny you and keep you waiting for more. His mouth landed kisses below a nipple, then on the right, then on the left, before repeating the moves on the other breast.

He didn't leave you unattended. Joel cupped your neglected tit, working it slowly in his hand, reaching for your perk nipple. His fingers work it thoroughly, pinching and twisting, listening to your beautiful noises.

"Joel," you cried out, your hands finding his broad shoulders. His muscles flexed and stretched under your fingers, his chest rising and falling in time with your hurried breaths.

This is what he'd been wanting to hear: you saying his name. Not from Georgia, not from anyone else's lips. And now you laid here beneath him, uttering it like it was holy.

It was music to his ears.

Joel hummed lowly, the sensation reverberating through your entire being. A teasing warmth played with your nipple - Joel's tongue had come out to play. He laid it flat against the sensitive bud, still through your thin shirt, but it gave little barrier. You could still feel his tongue circling your nipple before lapping slowly, drawing out a new shuddering moan. He groaned beneath you with great satisfaction.

"That's it, sweetheart," Joel murmured, "lemme hear you. Tell me how good it feels, baby."

With your senses alight, you couldn't form words. Instead, you let out another cry as Joel caught your nipple between his teeth. He chuckled softly at your noise, replying with a gentle smack on your ass. This was far more tender than how he'd normally be. It would be his biggest lesson with you - restraint. Until you told him otherwise, he'd tread carefully.

Your hips widened to invite him closer, yet Joel left the distance as it was, taking the opportunity to bring his hand to your front. His mouth found yours once more with great desperation, as if the only clean air was what you shared. His teeth tugged at your lower lip, pulling away just enough for you to start to whine.

"Joel," you whimpered weakly, "Joel, I need more."

The request lit a fire in him. It was more than just permission, you were just as deprived as he was.

"More?" repeated Joel. You nodded quickly. He leisurely stood with a wide smirk, towering over you, his hand gliding lazily along your inner thigh. Joel mirrored himself on the other side, working his hands up the inside of your legs, so close to finding home. It's hardly enough, and yet too much. Your legs splayed out on either side, quivering, as you look up at Joel.

The neediness of your expression would've had Joel undressed in seconds, but he needed to take his time.

His gaze stripped you bare. He met your eyes as one of his hands meandered up your thigh, securing its spot at the waistband of your shorts.

Joel spoke idly while he hooked his rough, calloused fingers at the band, "Needy lil' thing, aren't ya?"

There was no time or breath to reply. Your breaths began to shudder as Joel used both hands to work your shorts down. The seconds feel like hours, but neither of you are willing to rush this. After holding back and stifling your feelings, this is what you deserved.

Quickly, Joel's lips wander down your neck, just as he helped you shift your legs out of your sleep shorts, slowly but surely. You kicked them off, letting them fall at Joel's feet, baring you before him.

He didn't know how to place it, but keeping your shirt on added to the seduction, still having part of you hidden from him until later. Another surprise would be waiting for him. For now, there was work to do.

"Don't worry, honey, I'll give you watcha need. I'll take good care of you," cooed Joel, who now led his index finger further up your thigh. It wasn't until he broke away that the praise began to flow.

Holding your thighs splayed out, Joel hissed through his teeth. Your pussy was on full display for his viewing, bare and dripping. He dropped to his knees before you, leveling himself at your entrance, his parted lips inches away from your needy hole.

He exhaled, parting your slit with a thumb. You were beyond what he imagined. Your pussy pathetically clenched down on nothing, desperate to be filled.

"Ain't that a pretty sight," Joel teased, suddenly running circles on your clit with his tumb. You whimpered into your palm, trying to stifle your sounds.

Pleasure coiled persistently in your stomach, creeping up your spine. Joel eyed your cunt as it trembled under his touch, smiling in awe - he'd never seen a body so beautiful.

Joel observed your writhing under his touch, memorizing every movement, burning them into his memory. Which touches made you arch your back, which ones made your thighs tremble. Your body, all on its own, ached and throbbed for him. He was the luckiest man alive.

And that desperate, pleading look on your face... God damn him.

This was far beyond what he had anticipated for this visit. If he had a lick of sense in him, Joel would've stayed at his own place. But even as he sat on his couch with his guitar on his knee, you wormed your way into his train of thought. Hell, you were the damn conductor of it. It wasn't until the sixth slip-up that Joel resolved himself to do something. The thought of you infiltrated everything - his work, his hobbies, his sleep.

Sleep had been most difficult, given that Joel pictured you there, too.

He couldn't have predicted this outcome, though. Joel leaned closer to your needy pussy, hovering his mouth over your swollen clit, relishing in the small moans you produced. His hands found your waist and gripped securely, testing the security of your position.

"Joel, please," you begged softly, "I can't take this anymore."

Your whining brought out a low chuckle from him, to add to your frustration. You groaned, bucking your hips forward. If he wasn't going to give you what you needed, you'd do your best to take it.

The grip on your waist tightened. A warning.

You looked down to find his stare intently on yours, his eyes overcast with lust. Speechless at the scene before you it was impossible to move, to look away. Joel kept your stare as he parted his lips to reveal his tongue, dipping lower and pressing it flat against your clit. The warmth was an instant, white-hot pleasure that drew your body into him.

"Oh, fuck-" you gasped. Joel hummed happily against your clit in response, swirling his tongue gingerly. He tested your waters once again, switching directions and rhythm, slipping his tongue around the entrance of your cunt.

He broke away with much protest on your end. Before you could utter a complaint he melted you once more.

"You sound so goddamn beautiful," muttered Joel. "You have no idea how many times I thought about this, pretty girl."

You mewled at the praise as Joel introduced a finger at your entrance, tending to your deprived hole as he showered you again.

"The number of times I pictured this moment... it's almost shameful. But I just couldn't help myself," he inched his finger deeper with each pause, drawing out your hissing breath. "And believe me, I tried to fight it back, but then I'd see you again, and it started all over."

With that, Joel curled his finger to greet your sweet spot. Crying out, you bit into your hand.

"Awh, what's wrong, sweetheart? You feelin' shy?" Joel teased darkly, "Don't want the neighbors to hear how good I'm making you feel?"

He savored the sound that fell from your lips, and he added a second finger. Curling masterfully like before, you were slowly stretched around him, walls fluttering as the coil in your belly tightened. Joel worked his fingers dutifully, angling deeper, he needed to hear you again - fuck the neighbors, let them find out. They'd get a good show, that's for sure.

His fingers' occupied state let Joel stand again, his lips and mustache glossy from your slick. A sly, devilish smile was your only sign to prepare yourself. Joel watched your face contort as he found a quickening pace. There was an obscene harmony filling the room - your sweet noises, and the sound of Joel's fingers plunging into your pussy.

"Hah.... hah... fffuck... Joel-"

"I know, pretty girl, keep it up. You can do it."

"I can't... I think I-I'm gonna... hah... I'm gonna-"

He commanded, "Give it to me, sweetheart. Show me whatcha look like when you fall apart."

You were pushed to the edge, and Joel sent you tumbling over it. Your climax slammed through you with a barrage of stars scattered across your vision. The world around you muffled, and while you couldn't make out what Joel said, you could see the satisfaction on his face.

Slowly, the world came back, and your breath began to slow. A satisfied grin plastered on your face, your body sated and languid. Joel tilted his head, smirking. The question begs an answer.

"Oh, honey, what am I gonna do with you?"

Y'all.

All honesty, this chapter took SO long to finish, my brain is now oatmeal. But the gremlin in my brain has been ITCHING to write smut, and we're FINALLY HERE RAHHHHH

(I'm sorry I stopped it here, but to be fair it's not the first cliffhanger I've done. Nor will it be the last. The next part will be out asap my loves!)

And if you liked this chapter, be sure to read the others! My masterlist is linked in the top of this post :)

xoxo, Bunny

#bunny writes #tlou #the last of us #tlou2 #the last of us 2 #joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #fanfiction #fic writing #smut writing #tlou smut #pedro pascal joel miller

[monstersflashlight]

Imagine werewolf bf x werebunny(?) with a predator/prey kink and werewolf bf chases her in the woods and it’s just total smut and filth.

Hope that makes sense

Hi! <3 I hope you like this, it turned out to be a bit more fluffy than expected.

Little rabbit, bad wolf

Werewolf x fem!werebunny || predator/prey kink, chasing, dirty talk, knotting

It started as a bet. If he caught you, you were supposed to be his bunny maid for a week, costume included. But if he didn’t, he would build you a nice burrow for your heat. It was a good deal, and you were sure you could outsmart him. He gave you a head start, just a few minutes, but you thought it would be enough. So you took off your clothes and ran. You ran as fast as you could and found the perfect little spot to hide your quivering body.

When you agreed to play this with him, you weren’t expecting to be so fucking turned on. You thought it would be fun, but the heat pooling on your lower abdomen, and the slickness between your thighs were a new development. The idea of him running after you, him chasing you… it was driving you insane.

A thousand and one ideas were running around your mind as you hide. What would he do when he found you? Would the big bad wolf eat you? Would he go feral for you? Would he grab you by the hair and pull you to his cock? Would he make you get on all fours and ride you until you were panting and drooling over the forest floor? So many possibilities that were only making your breath faster, harder. You needed to calm down if you wanted him to lose.

He had to look for you for more than ten minutes if you wanted to win, just ten minutes and then you won a new burrow. At least five minutes have already passed when you heard a sound close by.

“Come out, come out, wherever you are…” You could hear his rapid breathing and his joking tone as you hid. “You can’t hide from me, little bunny, I can smell you.” You tried to be quiet, covering your mouth to stop the whimper that wanted to come out, his harsh voice making your pussy tingle.

You thought your hiding spot was perfect, but you didn’t think about your rapid heartbeat, so fast and so loud in your ears that you were worried he was going to find you soon. You didn’t think about your smell, and how good werewolf noses really were. You saw him pass a few meters away, thanking whoever it was up there that he didn’t see you. He kept walking and you lost sight of him, breathing a sign of relief.

Feeling in danger of being caught, you ran again. Bad choice, you realized instantly. You could hear him running behind you. The fire in your veins and the heat in your pussy was making your body push itself beyond anything you thought possible. He was fast, but you were a bunny on a mission. You wanted that damn burrow. But you wanted to get caught so badly, you wanted him to ravish you completely. But you kept running. You wouldn’t lose against a dumb predator, you might be the prey, but you were faster. Or so you thought.

At some point, you stopped to listen, your big ears twitching. You couldn’t hear him anywhere, the forest completely quiet. You should have guessed that was a bad sign. “Here you are!” An arm darted towards your body, you tried to escape but failed. He grabbed you by your fluffy tail and pulled you to him, making you scream. You could feel the heat pooling down on your abdomen. “I caught you. Now I get to eat you, bunny.” His voice was predatory, and you had no doubt you were going to enjoy whatever eating he did of you.

He didn’t give you time to react before you were on your back and his head was buried between your legs. He made out with your pussy messily, all drool and eagerness, pulling on your tail every once in a while. He was so good at that, he ate pussy like a champ and you could only moan as he did so, your mind going blank with pleasure.

You came twice before he growled and launched at you. He manhandled you into your stomach, his big body covered your back, pulling at your hips as he pushed your torso down. You were face down, ass up, when he pounded into you, fast and hard. You were the bunny in the relationship, but he was the one fucking you like a piston, so fast and so hard you couldn’t even scream, your throat raw, your mouth open in a silent scream, drool falling off as you panted.

“Are you going to be a good maid bunny for me?” He asked, you could feel the smirk on his voice. “I bet you will. And you’ll like it. You like to be my little servant, don’t you? You like when I order you around and make you do whatever I want. I bet I could make you suck my cock every evening when I get home. I think I’ll do that. I’ll have you kneeling on the floor and you’ll suck my big fat cock as soon as I get in.” Your pussy twitched around his hardness at that. “I felt that. You like the idea, don’t you? You like the idea of me having total control of you…” You whimpered, his words affecting you more than you thought.

He kept telling you every little detail of all the things he was going to make you do when you were his bunny maid. His words so filthy against your ear, his dick so hard as he pushed into you over and over that you lost your mind completely. He was hitting all your erogenous zones at once and you couldn’t hold back the noises you were making. When his knot started to stretch you out, you screamed. He chuckled and pushed deeper. Grinding his knot against your G-spot. You didn’t see stars, you saw whole galaxies as he made you come over and over. When he finished, he came so deep you could feel it in your sternum.

When he pulled out you felt his cum leaking out, your pussy slick with the mixed juices. “Look at that. Your pussy looks so good all messy with my cum.” You groaned, his words making some aftershocks ran through your body. “Looks like the big bad wolf caught the little rabbit at the end.” He chuckled at his own joke and you moaned, too tired to say anything. “Come on, bunny, let’s go home.” He picked you up and cradled you against his furry chest.

He made good on his promise and you had to suck his cock every day as soon as he got home. He also built you a good burrow so he could fuck you properly during your heat, claiming it was more for him than for you, but you knew better. Your boyfriend liked to chase you down like he was going to eat you, but he was infuriated with you. As you were with him.

#monster #monster fucker #monster imagine #teratophillia #monster boyfriend #terato #request #werebunny #werewolf #werebunny x werewolf #monster x monster #monster x reader

[redflagshipwriter]

batmom cass: reveal

masterpost

Oh. Fuck. He was invisible. A flood of genuine fear washed through him. He was discovered again, he was away from any allies, he had to get away-

Danny went intangible out of sheer survival instinct and lurched downwards. Bruce made a punched-out sound and lunged to grab him. He actually got his hand around Danny’s wrist and clenched despite Danny being invisible to human eyes. It was no use. Danny slipped through his grip, the chair, and then the floor.

He caught himself there and paused, hovering in the flooring. He could see the weird joints underneath the kitchen, a dark crawl space with way more spiders than Alfred could possibly know about. One of them reared up and waved its front legs at him in what was either a threat or a greeting. Danny shuddered involuntarily and pulled back a little to give the arachnid personal space.

“Danny?” Cass’s voice was muffled but calm. “Sit in your chair, please.”

She made it sound so sensible.

He blinked rapidly. “Right. Right, okay.” He floated back up through the floor and avoided eye contact as he settled back into place and the visible spectrum. He stole a glance around the room. Cass and Damian looked unaffected. Bruce’s face said the same, but the pulse point was jumping rapidly in his throat. His hand was pressed firmly against his thigh as if to remind him that it was a physical thing that existed.

“This GIW is harmful to you?” Damian asked, sensible and unaffected. He pushed his empty yoghurt away a few inches on the tabletop. “I gather from the acronym that we are dealing with an organization rather than an individual.”

“....Yeah.” Danny gripped his knees under the table and clung to the hint of normalcy. If they were going to act like that hadn’t been weird, then maybe he was okay. “I think they’re government affiliated. They say they are. They, uh.” He cleared his throat. “They’re the Ghost Investigation Ward, but I call them the Guys in White.”

“And they are a problem because?” Damian asked crisply. Cass was watching with the full force of her formidable attention, but it wasn’t a heavy gaze. 

Danny forced himself to stop fidgeting. “Well, I might have died a little.” It came out as a question. “And they’re not sure it’s me- at least, they weren’t, but I guess that they are now.” Oof, that was hard to internalize. Of course they did. Now that they knew about Vlad, they had all the pieces to put it together. His parents had definitely put it together. The look on Mom’s face when she saw him hauling Vlad out of the lab…

He felt cold. Danny rubbed at his thighs as if that would help. 

There hadn’t been another choice. It ate at him a little bit that Danny had thrown his life away for someone he didn’t even like, but what else could he have done? Vlad was Vlad, yeah, but Danny couldn’t have left anyone there. 

Bruce had a look that Danny had never seen on him before. Intense. Focused. Dangerous. Danny instinctively pulled away from it, sitting all the way up in his chair. 

Bruce wiped it away, but the memory still sent Danny’s blood rushing. Ecto gathered in his mouth like saliva, his body readying to fight for his life. He swallowed it down with difficulty. 

“As you said,” Cass interjected. She scooted her chair a little closer to him and laid an arm along his shoulders. “Like Jason.” She rubbed at his upper arm. He leaned into her touch. 

“Like Jason,” Bruce echoed. His tone was hollow.

Danny ducked his head and missed the meaningful look that Cass shot her BatDad. 

“What are their capabilities?” Damian pushed. His dark eyes glittered when Danny looked back at him. “You clearly have invisibility and density shifting. Are they able to counter you?”

“Yeah, something like that.” Danny blinked rapidly to try to force himself to focus. This was… so weird. Someone had found out about him and he wasn’t fighting for his life. Even his friends had found out when he was actively under fire from a ghost. His nervous system didn’t know what to do with this. He cleared his throat. “They have a lot of tech, uh.” He flexed his hands. “From my parents.” He stared at the woodgrain on the table. It was probably real wood and not the heavy duty polymer that the Fenton table was made out of. “They’re not exactly competent, but there’s a lot of them, and they have had some success.”

His stomach lurched. He swallowed hard on bile. He didn’t think about what he’d found when he went after Vlad. He didn’t think about Vlad in his human form, strapped down and incisions pinned open, literal pins holding open his torso and skin layers on his arms. He didn’t think about the quietly despairing hums coming from rows of ghost cores on a shelf, neatly labeled with specimen numbers. 

“Let’s walk.” Cass hustled him up and muscled him down the hall without letting go of her comforting grip. Danny went along with it numbly. But she was kinda right. Moving shook him out of his head. The walls were changing around him, curtains and windows and framed portraits and some of Tim’s photography. They passed a room he had never seen before. Cass pushed the door open, let him look around, and then tugged him down the hall before he’d had time to do more than catalogue the novelty. 

She did that at the next door, too. Oh. An impromptu tour. The novelty of seeing new things started to drag him back to the real world, right now, which was not exactly a fight for his life.

At the third door, Danny managed, “Does anyone play that piano?”

Cass made a mysterious hum. It took her a while to unstick her tongue. “Damian can. Jason, if you ask with big eyes.” 

Danny nodded at this information. Damian did seem like the kind of person who would hone a few classic artistic skills. And Jason was manipulable, good information.

…Not that Danny would need much help there. He felt a little sheepish at how threatened he’d felt earlier when he remembered the sincerity and protectiveness he could sense from both Cass and Jason.  

“What should we do about GIW?” Cass broached the topic, as if she knew that he felt better. She probably did know. “Investigate cautiously? Destroy?” She held up two fingers to count off the ‘destroy the GIW’ options. “Horde of lawyers descend from Wayne Enterprises jet, or Justice League?”

Danny snorted. It turned into a laugh, hysterical and too long. He wiped tears away from his eyes. “Personally, I like the idea of blowing up their base,” he admitted. “But someone should rescue the test subjects first.”

“Oh?”

Cass was so weirdly easy to talk to. He leaned a little harder against her. She wasn’t a big woman, but there was something so solid about her anyway. It must be a Black Bat thing. “I left because I was getting someone out,” he admitted. “They were a lot more captives than I knew about.” He squeezed his free hand to ground himself. “I grabbed as many as I could and tossed them through the portal, but I don’t know if that was everyone or if just being home let them heal up.” 

Hell, maybe someone had come along and eaten all the helpless cores. Danny shied away from the horror of that thought. His intuition had identified the helpless ghost cores as viable ectoplasm, healing and delicious. They were scared at his approach because they sensed him, they knew they were helpless shells to crack open and lick out the sweet marrow–

Ah. Yup. He stopped in his tracks and heaved his snack onto the carpet.

#batmom cass #red mama bat #dp x dc #dc x dp

[deonsx]

If They Take Aphrodisiacs

Feat: Dazai, Chuuya, Fyodor

Content: Nsfw, Smut

Dazai Osamu

The nights you spent with your boyfriend always made you very happy. Whether it was the way he always cherished you, the gentleness and the sensual feelings he gave you... the words that made you beg him all the time, you always loved these, but have you ever thought about the possibility of him begging? Wouldn't you like it if he begged you with a sexual hunger just like you? Since you started thinking about this, the direction of your desires changed and you decided to make plans

He is an intelligent man, it is only a matter of time before he realizes what he is drinking, but since he would not expect such boldness from you, everything became simpler. You gave him a heavy aphrodisiac syrup mixed with the drink you gave him that night, and he made a grimace when he first drank it. "It was sour than I thought, shouldn't it be spoiled?" You replied, taking a sip of your own drink. "I don't think so, it's Chuuya-san's choice." You cleared the doubt in his mind by saying so. "Ahhh Chuuya?? It's definitely poisonous then"

Dazai went to sleep half an hour later because he wanted to go to bed early tonight and you couldn't escape the idea of ​​wearing something nice. You went forward wearing sensual dresses. Dazai looked very calm, which made you suspicious... When you approached him, you saw that he was sweating slightly "My love..Are you okay, it looks like you have a fever" " you spoke, placing your hand on the brunette's forehead "Ahm..I don't know, I feel weird"

You grinned slightly "Is my boy really tired today" you played with his curls and placed kisses on his forehead which made him suddenly pull away from your arms and lay on top of you "I thought you were tired Osamu" He barely smiled "Hah...I-I feel warm" you gently cupped his cheek and kissed him. holding his arms, you changed your places and now you were on top, you sat on his tent and lightly rubbed him "uhhh..Love please..I need you"

"Really darling? Let me hear you beg for more" brown eyes looked at you sharply from under their long eyelashes and then their lips let out a deep breath "I need you..I want you my love..please don't turn me away" you slowly unzipped his pants and they were already sewn. You revealed his tent

"Now I see more clearly how much you need me, my love"

Chuuya Nakahara

It was an ordinary day at work. PM days had never been this tiring. You weren't sure if it was the duties or the new blonde girl that was tiring your mind. Are you jealous of your boyfriend from that girl? But she won't betray you, you trust her... But it seems like that girl is trying to use Chuuya's kindness. It's been 2 months since that girl came, but you were bored now, something was happening every day and she was visiting your boyfriend's office, files? enemies? information? boast? she was really trying to seduce him

Every time you tried to talk about this with your boyfriend, he denied it and said that the girl was just immature and was just trying to reinforce things with questions. No matter how angry you got, you couldn't do much. Instead of focusing on these, you thought of focusing on your relationship... something that would make him listen to you, something that would make everything sprout again. well..a few drops of aphrodisiac

You changed the same boring day at work completely. Chuuya wanted his usual morning coffee in his office, but he didn't know who made the coffee. When he entered his office with a coffee in his hand, his eyes narrowed with a warm smile. "My love..Did you make coffee for me?" you nodded slightly and placed the coffee in front of his desk "It was stupid to argue with you about that girl last night dear" chuuya bowed his head slightly and took a sip of his coffee "it's okay from now on I'll make sure he doesn't come into this room that often I promise"

While you were talking, chuuya started to sweat and his breaths became faster. "It was hot.." You blinked your eyes as if you didn't know. "oh? are you sure about that..that you weren't the one who was actually hot...?" his eyes quickly found you, "Did you give me an aphrodisiac, darling, I didn't think you would do this at work" you stood up and walked towards the chair your lover was sitting on and sat on his lap "my love, you were so busy with work these days, I wanted you to give your mind to me"

you covered him with your kisses you left bruises on his neck and gently unbuttoned his shirt "You are so naughty s/o..." you giggled and just rubbed on his lap which made him moan "nghh~ don't make fun of me dear" a knock on the door stopped you both but the voice was the person you wanted to hear "Chuuya-san Can I come in?" That high pitched and affectionate girl's voice, Chuuya couldn't even answer as he was out of breath, but the girl already wanted to enter so he opened the door quickly "Chuuya-...." When you turned your head back you saw the girl's disappointed expression

"Leave me and my girlfriend alone intern"

Fyodor Dostoyevski

Your boyfriend literally doesn't have time for you and this isn't just a 1-2 week thing, it's been 2 months, he can't take his mind off his plans to beat the detective agency and his mind games with Dazai, he doesn't even look at you. You even tried to tell him this "Fyodor... I know you're on the job but "I missed you." He frowned slightly and turned his head from the computer to you. "When the time comes, I will make you forgive me for this indifference." In the second attempt, you prepared a meal for him, but he did not leave his room. In the third attempt, you fought with him and unfortunately, you argued and you tripped without taking a step back. He didn't try to forgive

Finally, one day, an idea came to your mind, you knew he would get angry with you, but you still thought it would solve the problem between you, and now you were upset with him. Normally, you were always the one to hold people back, so this time, you were going to use it. You went home, Fyodor hadn't arrived yet, you prepared a meal and put a lot of your syrup into it. , time has passed. Finally, your lover came home, his eyes looked at the already prepared dinner table, then he looked at you. "Dinner?" He knew you were upset with him, normally he wouldn't eat dinner, but this time he sat at the table for you both.

It was a quiet dinner, as you'd expect, and no sound was heard leaving him. After the meal, the usual work change went on, nothing happened yet, you didn't see any reaction, did it go wrong? Didn't it show aphrodisiac performance? Was the amount not enough? Everything was empty, you took steps towards your room and you were passing by your boyfriend's study, you stood as still as possible until the rapid breathing became louder, very light moaning sounds, it was easy to hear his sounds in the quiet house.

It was fun to listen to your voices. Only the lights were illuminating the dark room. You slowly opened the door, but I guess Fyodor didn't hear it. The voices continued in the same tone. You looked into the room with your eyes and saw your boyfriend, who had thrown his head back and grasped his dick with his hands.. He was trying to help himself.. How sad..." Does someone need my help?" purple eyes opened like they were shining in the dark and they turned directly to you "What did you put in that food...haah.." as the light moans continued he removed his hands from his cock and tried to cover himself, you directed your steps towards him "What does it matter...I just wanted you to understand your mistake dear." fyodor's eyes narrowed in disdain "I don't need any help-" you slowly sat down on your boyfriend's lap, who was sitting on the chair, and felt his cock start to get wet under his pants. "nnnghh stop it...don't make fun of me"

“If you tell me your wishes, I will not hesitate to give them all to you, my love”

Enjoy!

We are 800 people, thank you everyone for supporting what I wrote^^

#bsd #bungou stray dogs #dazai #dazai osamu #dazai x reader #dazai x you #bsd dazai #dazai smut #dazai x y/n #dazaibsd #chuuya x fem!reader #chuuya x y/n #chuuya smut #chuuyabsd #chuuya x reader #chuuya nakahara #fyodor smut #fyodor headcanons #fyodor x y/n #fyodor x you #fyodor x reader #fyodor dostoevsky #bungou stray dogs fyodor #fypツ #fypシ゚viral #fypシ #bsd smut #bsd x reader

[mariasont]

you should do more aaron hotchner x reader but they get drunk together and they just have a make out session or something 🤫🤫

Strawberry Wine - A.H

a/n: i took this the bimbo reader route because i'm slightly obsessed with them lately so i hope you don't mind <3

thank you so much for requesting xoxo

masterlist

₊˚ ✩°｡⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆｡°✩˚₊‧

pairings: aaron hotchner x bimbo!assistant!reader

summary: hotch is a lot more flirty when he's got some alcohol in him

warnings: kind of suggestive?, flirty hotch, making out, mutual pining

wc: 0.9k

You were vaguely aware of the dizzy sensation taking hold, your steps a little unsteady, cheeks a little more flushed. Penelope's voice, usually so clear, now sound like she was yelling from afar, her excitement over a new cooking show barely registering with you. It all faded into the background as your focus narrowed on one person alone--your boss.

Concentrating on something else was the logical choice, but logic seemed to falter in the face of such distraction. I mean, you had eyes after all.

He looked exceptionally good tonight. Jeans. He was wearing jeans and a zip up. His casual look held an irresistibility about it that you rarely got to appreciate, and now it's all you can dwell on. You could easily blame your preoccupation on a few drinks, but in all honesty, you'd be just as enthralled sober.

Your name was floating through the air, and as you turned, you saw Morgan. His grin was wide, the kind that told you he'd been trying to catch your attention for longer than you'd realized.

His eyebrows lifted, bumping against you with a shoulder as he waggled those same eyebrows. So childish. You knew what he was referring to. He was the first one to catch on to your little crush, but despite his behavior you knew he'd never divulge your secret. 

You nudged him back, not realizing your own strength until you were almost toppling over. You only found your footing when you felt hands on your waist. You leaned back, assuming it was Morgan. You were wrong. 

"You okay?" His voice was soft and low, a soothing sound that tempted you to both lean into him and step back in a fluster.

You glanced around, only to realize that Morgan had disappeared, leaving you with Hotch. You clamped your lips together, fighting the urge to let a stupid smile spread across your face, but the wine's influence made it challenging.

"Yes."

The room spun just a tad more as you tried to focus on Hotch, his usually sharp gaze softened just a bit more tonight. 

He chuckled--a rare, perfect sound that made you tingly all over--and leaned closer. "The wine seems to be doing its job. How many glasses in are we?"

You giggled, but the sound was more like a hiccup. "I should be asking you that," you said with a lopsided smile. "But then again, I guess I mean glasses of scotch, right? You seem like a scotch over wine kind of guy."

"Do I?" His voice was rich and warm. He stepped forward, his eyes briefly flickering to where the rest of the team congregated in Rossi's kitchen. However, they seemed miles away. "You smell good."

His compliment threw you off guard, you blinked, cheeks heating up as you swayed slightly towards him, voice a bubbly stream of words you couldn't control. "You think so? It's actually this new perfume--I got it on sale, can you believe it? And the bottle is just the cutest thing, all pink and pretty."

"I bet." He was smirking. Smirking. You were pretty sure you had stumbled into an alternate reality where Hotch was not just your boss, but someone who was relaxed, almost flirtatious? 

"Here," you said, pointing to the middle of your chest. You were a little breathless, "this is where I spray it."

He gave a low hum, almost inaudible, stepping in until you were toe to toe. You caught the hint of scotch on his breath--just as you had suspected--and it made the room spin a little more. 

His face moved down toward your chest, and you couldn't hardly believe that he couldn't hear your heart pounding against your ribs. 

You inhaled sharply, the valley of your breasts rising to graze against his nose, so lightly that it might have gone unnoticed if not for your intense focus on him. 

"What do you think--?" you started to ask, but as he raised his head, your noses were nearly touching, and the rest of your sentence dissolved.

The realization of how easy it would be to kiss him struck you, tempting and terrifying all at one, and you hesitated, knowing that was one line you shouldn't cross.

But you didn't need to cross it because he obliterated the line with a kiss that thundered against your lips before you could even blink. A smile bloomed against his mouth, and you returned it full force.

It was as if you were tingly from head to toe, like fireworks were exploding all around you, like you were floating on a cloud.

You looped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer, as if the space between you could vanish entirely. You felt his broad hands sweep and down your spine, your tongues vying for dominance, the rich, smoky taste of that scotch lingering in your mouth, as if you were absorbing its essence through every five senses.

It was as if you were back in high school, making out under the bleachers, hiding from the rest of your classmates. You didn't want it to end, but reality intruded like a dream dispelled.

The click of a camera snapped you back to the present, his arms still wrapped around you protectively, hands on the damning evidence.

Gathered at the window there the team was, Garcia's fingers curled around her phone, its lens aimed squarely at you. Your surprised came out as a high-pitched squeal mingled with their distance laughter and cheers. You pressed your face into the fabric of Hotch's zip up, silently pleading for the earth to open up and swallow you whole.

"Next time, we'll opt for the bathroom. Less room for an audience."

taglist: @hotchhner @khxna

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x bimbo reader #aaron hotchner x fem reader #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x bimbo!reader #aaron hotchner fluff #criminal minds fluff #criminal minds fic #criminal minds

[fanaticsnail]

Snail important question;

Of any line-up of characters of your choice-

Who do you think is attracted to competency,

Who is attracted to stupidity,

Who can go either way,

And who is attracted to both at the same time (imagine;

Reader: sorry I'm late I had to fight off two different ships

Them: is that how you got that bruise on your face?

Reader: oh... Actually, I wasn't looking and pulled a push door off its' hinges into my face

Them, kicking off their pants: god you're so fucking stupid, sit on my face

)

Also, I feel like there are different versions of competency and stupidity. Street smarts vs social obliviousness. Book smarts vs functionally illiterate. Strategic/battle smarts vs what-do-you-mean-flashing-the-enemy-isn't-a-valid-distraction?

(Zoro is completely math smart and dumb in every other way)

I could imagine Luffy would be attracted to hyper specific competency. If you're really into a specific thing and good at it and it's your dream he would absolutely love it even if it sounds like you're speaking gibberish to him. He wouldn't even think of it as weird - I mean, no more weird than any other dream he doesn't personally understand - he's certainly not the type to judge based on societal norms. You could talk his ear off about the reproductive habits of different animals and he wouldn't get why everyone else doesn't like to hear it when they're eating but hey more food for him.

Snail. Your asks always know how to get the better of me. Have a series of little drabbles, dear.

Competency, Stupidity, Duality

Masterlist here

Word Count: 410+, 510+, 580+

Synopsis: They can't help what attracted them to you. No matter what you did, they simply couldn't get enough of you. Their emotions finally catch up with them, and they confess their adoration for you.

Themes: variety x gn!reader, feelings, injury, mentions of battles, finally giving in, all different 'reader' inserts, confessions of love, kid x reader, zoro x reader, killer x reader, angst, fluff, sweetness.

Notes: I wasn't expecting to write this today, but I've been thinking about the big boys lately and I needed to give them some love. Something about trios lately.

Tag List: @sordidmusings @nerium-lil @feral-artistry @since-im-already-here @writingmysanity @indydonuts @gingernut1314 @i-am-vita @carrotsunshine @mfreedomstuff @daydreamer-in-training

Competency: Eustass Kid

When Eustass Kid noticed how quick and sharp you were to react in life or death circumstances, he was immediately smitten with you. Being a Straw-Hat, your ambitions and dreams were fostered by your playful captain as you sailed aboard the Thousand Sunny. Your ability to interact flawlessly by balancing the combined efforts of the three crews had him intrigued by your charisma. 

Fighting by your side was something he didn’t expect to affect him so much. The way you researched the strengths and weaknesses of all three crews sailing and fighting together was admirable. Asserting yourself by asking Law to push and pull you closer to the fight with the Ope-Ope no Mi ability, while fighting side-by-side with Massacre Soldier Killer in close quarters, had him left wordless.

After the battle finishes, he watched as you hastily aided your crew of their injuries while disregarding your own; putting others first while adding pressure to your hand-gash, hovering it over your head to slow the bleeding. He couldn’t get enough of you. 

He needed you to know how he felt about you, but being in the presence of Luffy and Law always seemed to bring out the more juvenile side of attitude. His simple attraction and infatuation with you had to be revealed to you in due time, but he couldn’t risk sounding like an idiot in front of you. He would have to simply wait until you were alone and unoccupied before he made his move to take care of you after taking care of others. 

Slowly approaching you as you sat down against the tangerine grove aboard the Thousand Sunny, his shadow shrouded your form and prompted you to gaze up into his scarred, sheepish face. Your smile caused his heart to beat harder and his head to swirl with a variety of "what-ifs". Gulping back his insecurities, he knelt down in front of you.

“Let me take care of that for you,” he offered with a soft smirk, “You’ve done so much for others, and I think your hand needs some seeing to.” 

“If you say so, Captain Kid,” you shrug, offering your injured hand delicately to him and listening to his every instruction as he treats you, “I wasn’t aware you had any medical training.” He straps your hand in a bandage, placing down the final ties before holding your injured hand in his.

“I don’t,” he shrugged with a smile atop his painted lips, “But I’ve lost an arm before, and I don’t want to see that happen to you.” 

“You’re-...” he stuttered over his words, gazing at your hand before softly drifting his tired eyes up, “...-You amaze me. Truly, amaze me.�� You place your other hand on his, never once removing your eyes from his face as he offers you such kindness. 

“Thank you, sir,” you nod to him with a soft smile, “You amaze me, too.”

Stupidity: Roronoa Zoro

“Why would you do that?” Zoro roared at you, hovering his body over yours and caging your face-down body within a shield of his own. The gashes on your back were deep, your body weeping out the red essence and staining your clothes with it.

“C-Couldn’t risk yours,” you stuttered out with a soft smile, “H’was gonna g-get yours. Didn’t want you to wear the shame.” His eyes widened, filling with a steam of glossy tears that threatened to spill over the moment you stuttered out your confession. “That’s what you said, wasn’t it? Mark on the back is a swordsman’s greatest shame?” 

Drip. 

Drip.

Drip.

One after one, soft tears spilt down his cheeks and mixed with the fluids pooling at your back. He leaned down towards you, the heat of battle dying down with the swift, flaming kick of the blonde cook and giggling chuckles of your captain, Luffy. 

“You’re a fucking idiot,” he sniffed his sobs back as he leaned down to cage you, “Can’t you see? None of that fucking matters without you here.” He softly, tenderly moved you from your position on the floor to not disturb your wounds. He sat you up, cradling you against his broad chest and openly sobbed for you. 

“When you get better,” he growled into your shoulder, “I will repay you for this. I will pay my debt to you.” His sobs got more desperate, not halting in the slightest when Trafalgar D Water-Law approached the two of you in your embrace. 

“Let me get ‘em to the infirmary,” Law offered, gesturing for Bepo to ready the aid kit, “I’ll treat the wounds there-.” 

“-I won’t leave them,” Zoro barked over your shoulder, your soft smile tugging at your cheeks in your hazy daze. “Let me go with you, Traffy. I won’t say a damn word to distract you, on my honor.” Law nods, raising his hand and spreading his fingers and offers the two words to switch positions within the infirmary: “Room, Shambles.” 

As you drifted in and out of consciousness, you laughed each time Zoro chastised you for your stupidity. Echos of: “There were so many other things you could’ve done instead,” and “You stumbled into that blade like a moron and took that hit for me, idiot.” You giggled through the pain, barely feeling it as Law worked to stitch you together again. 

Upon regaining consciousness, you looked to your moss-haired crewmate and offered out your hand to his bicep. His head was bowed, arms crossed over his chest, and was assumed to be napping by your bedside. Feeling your touch, he was roused from his sleep and immediately leaned forward to bring his face beside yours. 

“You’re a fucking moron,” he huffed, smiling in a melancholy grin. You laughed at his insult, squeezing his muscle before retracting your hand. As you nearly drew it away to your side, he caught your hand and brought your palm up to his lips. 

“My fucking moron,” he confirmed, placing a soft kiss to your palm before using it to cup his face. “I love you.”

Duality: Massacre Soldier Killer

Staring up into your face while remaining silent, resting his masked face on the heel of his palm, he listened to your recount of a very specific childhood injury that left you with an interesting scar on your thigh. Killer’s eyes never left your face, his cheeks beginning to glow warm and vibrant beneath the shroud of his mask.

“So, let me get this straight,” Captain Eustass Kid held his hand in front of his face and gave it a gentle wave to halt your words, “That sick-looking scar wasn’t from any time you served with Luffy, but because you set off a fucking harpoon and speared yourself in the leg with it?” 

Killer felt himself swoon at the melody your laugh thrust into the atmosphere. He was ever thankful his blue and white mask disguised how much he was smiling beneath the shroud. 

“Yep,” you popped the ‘P’ afterwards, nodding in confirmation as you sat beside Usopp and drew your tankard up to your lips, “But I learnt from it, and it hasn’t happened since.” Killer sighed, his voice almost coming out in a soft moan to reveal his growing infatuation for you. Kid barked out a harsh gaggle of laughter, clapping you on the shoulder with his right hand and gestured for you to reveal it to them.

“Let me see it again, go on,” he chuckled, removing his hand and sitting back on his seat, “Use Killer’s thigh as a prop so we can see it properly. You don’t mind do you, big guy?” Killer absentmindedly and slowly shook his head, tapping his thigh twice with his hand for you to reveal your injury to the captain of the Victoria Punk, himself and your crewmate beside you. 

“Alright,” you shrugged, standing beside Usopp and Killer and gently placed your foot atop Killer’s thigh and began hiking up your shorts to your hip, “Feast your eyes, Captain.” Sure enough, an interesting looking scar was revealed on your inner thigh, clear as day and sure as the sea is salty. 

“Oh, fucking hells!” Kid gave you a hearty laugh, “You seeing this, big guy?” Kid turned his attention to his first mate, his smile only growing as he noticed the angle of Killer’s mask never left your face. Surprise was immediately thrust into Kid’s eyes, noticing the unwavering resolve in Killer’s posture. 

You turned your attention down to the silent and broody first-mate, your face puzzled and eyes searching his mask for any further thought or action. He slowly drew his hands up to clasp around your ankle and calf, holding it firmly as he leaned forward. 

“You’re perfect,” he offered in a breathy whisper, stroking your leg and gazing lovingly into your face, “Don’t let anyone ever tell you otherwise.” 

Your face flushed with a warmth at his words, eyes widening and looking down at his large hands as they held you so tenderly and delicately within his grasp. Smiling, you leaned forwards and placed your hand over his scarred left forearm with mischief in your eyes, asking him a simple question with a suggestive tone. 

“Like what you see then, big guy?” At your question, Usopp nearly choked on his drink. You had never been this bold before, and this came as a shock to your crew’s skilled sniper. He covered his choking with a soft cough, turning away with a downturned smile and stifling his growing laugh. 

“So much,” Killer confirmed, gently caressing your calf and looking up at you through half-hooded blonde lashes beneath his mask, “So, so much.”

#one piece #x reader #roronoa zoro #eustass kid #massacre soldier killer #one piece drabbles #gn!reader #kid x reader #zoro x reader #killer x reader #op drabbles #one piece x reader #op x reader #one piece x you #one piece fluff #ask snail #snail answers

[mawofthemagnetar]

Scar Talks.

(This is a prequel to another tumblr fic I wrote. Check it out!)

“…As I was saying, Scar,” Doc chuckled evilly, “we have ways of making you talk.”

“Really?” Scar said incredulously. He pulled on the restraints tying his arm to the chair, “I mean, Doc, I’ve been in a lot of interrogations before. You don’t have the chops.”

Scar glanced across the room, to where Keralis was leaning against a suspiciously-blank wall. Apart from Keralis’ perch, the chamber was empty, and Scar decided to ignore it for now. He had far more pressing concerns, like the awful sartorial choices of his fellow Hermits.

Both of them were wearing matching white suits with black ties and dress shoes, which Scar thought made them look very silly. He’d humor them for awhile (and make fun of them for sure), and then he was making for the door. 

Speaking of the door… His wheelchair was still parked beside him. Not that it was much help, because the door was still locked. Great. Well, never hurt to try some honeyed words…

“By the way, this is the most accessible interrogation room I’ve ever been in. No sills, nice flat hallways, big doors. Top three for sure. Thanks for that.” Scar said warmly.

Doc sniffed, doing his best to hide his smile.

“Of course. What do you take me for? Anyway. We’re getting off-topic, Scar. Like I said, we have ways of making you talk. And you’re going to tell us everything you know.”

“I don’t think so. You two don’t have deep enough pockets for that.” Scar chuckled.  

“But Sweetface,” Keralis said, batting his eyes, “I need to know! I need to! It’s important!” 

“Well, what do you want to know? Maybe we can work something out,” Scar said smoothly, “make all of this unnecessary.”  

“Oh, I’ll tell you. You know where Etho keeps his computer, yes? And his keyboard. And his tissue box. I just want to give him better things.” Keralis said, pressing his hands to his chest, “You just have to tell us where he keeps these things. It isn’t that hard.” 

Scar shook his head. 

“So that’s what you’re after…Well, no can do, Keralis. Etho swore me to secrecy. And is paying me handsomely.” 

Keralis shrugged. 

“Suit yourself. Doc? Take it away.” 

Doc stepped in front of Scar with an evil smile. 

“One chance. Tell us where Etho keeps that keyboard, and you can leave.” 

Scar smirked. 

“This ain’t my first rodeo, Doc. I’m not telling you anything.”

Doc just shrugged, and punched a button on the wall. 

Scar spared a glance at Keralis, who was smiling benevolently. 

A slimestone flying machine slid up, revealing a well-lit room on the other side of a tinted glass wall. In that room, Iskall and Gem sat on either sides of a table, chatting away with big smiles on their faces. 

“That’s your method? Chitchat?” Scar raised an eyebrow, “This is pathetic.”

Doc leaned in, eyes blazing with menace. 

“I wouldn’t be so cocky,” he said softly, “this glass is completely soundproof. They can’t hear a word we’re saying in there. But there’s speakers in the walls. You’ll be able to hear everything.”

Scar frowned. 

“How’s that going to help?”

Doc grinned, and tapped a button on his wrist. 

“Gem? Iskall? Time for you to earn your pay. If you’re both ready…we can begin.”

Both hermits craned their necks up to look at the ceiling. They both shrugged, and then they started to talk. 

The speakers kicked on, and-

“No, that’s not right.” Gem said, “See, that Anakin guy was the bounty hunter, right? With the friend who’s dressed as a bear?”

“Oh, yeah, right. My bad. And then the guy in the like, blue and white trashcan, he’s…?” Iskall scratched his head and started to write something on a piece of paper. 

Scar’s eyes bugged out. 

“Doc. How long are they going to do this?” Scar said, beads of sweat staring to form on his forehead. His smile was gone. 

“That’s up to you.” Doc said with a vicious smile.

“-Okay, I think I got this worked out,” Gem said, “so that Obiwobi guy fought off the Death Star with a sword?”

Scar screamed. 

“Yeah, now you’re getting it. And then that Luke guy was all, “I am your father!” to, uh, what was her name again?” Iskall scratched his head. 

“I think it was Lilo?” Gem said, “Yeah, definitely Lilo.” 

Scar threw his head back and screamed.

“I’L TALK! I’LL TALK! MAKE IT STOOOOOOPPPPPP!!!”

#magnetar writes #Hermitfic #GoodtimeswithScar #Silly #IDK man I was just having fun with it

[gglitch1dd]

Us & You Pt4

DILF Kirishima Eijirou x Teacher Reader

Context: Kirishima Eijiro has done everything to forget Bakugou Katsuki in his life and just focus on his daughter, his amazing and loving daughter. The light of his eye. Due to an incident, Eijiro meets you, a teacher at his daughter school who he can’t help but fall for. However, as his daughter grows older and questions start being asked, it feels like the peace he tried to cultivate is slipping through his fingers.

Note: Pretty chilled chapter.

PLEASE NOTE BEFORE READING THIS SHORT SERIES: There will be some deep discussions about morality, children, abortion arguments pertaining to Pro life vs Pro choice as well as the father’s role in raising a child/conceiving a child. It also deals with the struggles of being a single parent. It’s very messy and very much real life. Katsuki is Trans in this story (mostly cause I couldn’t find another character to be Sachiko’s mom and you’ll see why).

[PART 2] [AO3 Link] [PART 3]

The charity derby was in full swing with people wearing brands so expensive that you didn’t know the names of, crowded around you, sipping on fancy bubbly drinks walking around in the sun before the derby would take place. You stayed glued to Eijiro’s side as he led you and Sachiko forward. This was a very important day for you and you tried not to get too nervous at the realisation of that.

Today was not only the day that Eijiro would be out with you with people he knew closely outside of work, but also the day you would meet his family. You found that rather nerve wrecking. Sachiko had told you about how nice her family was and how they were all basically like each other so if you met Sachiko and Eijiro, you’d get along with everyone. However, you weren’t entirely sure if that was true considering she was their family.

You tried your best to stay calm. You kept a smile on your face as you held onto Eijiro’s arm, wearing an outfit that he had bought you for the occasion (along with several others which you found unnecessary but he was rather insistent of having an excuse to spoil you).

“Daddy, daddy, daddy look!” Sachiko pointed to one of the large deep mahogany horses that were being led on the other side of the fence by a worker. “It’s a thoroughbred horse! Look at how strong he is.” She pointed over at the horse. “Can we bet on that one!”

Eijiro chuckled. “We’ll take a look at all the horses participating and see. What if Thunder is participating?”

Sachiko gasped before turning to you with bright eyes. “Thunder is a horse Daddy and I have been betting on for the past two years now!” She informed you. “He’s really good. I like him.”

You smiled. “Well we better go check if he’s participating today. You think he can still make it?”

She nodded her head raising her head. “I think so. He’s a strong one, but not as strong as my Clyde.” She stated proudly.

You looked to Eijiro with a confused look and a raised eyebrow. “Clyde is her horse. Ironically, he’s a Clydesdale. My father bought him for her.”

“And he’s the best boy ever!” Sachiko exclaimed as she looked around. “Hey, Daddy…” Sachiko furrowed her eyebrows as she swivelled her head left and right. “Where’s Baba?”

“Right behind you, sweetheart.”

Sachiko turned around and she lit up like a Christmas tree. “BABA!” She let out an excited squeal and raced into the arms of a large man. He let out a loud boisterous laugh as he pick up Sachi effortlessly and threw her up into the air. He caught her in his arms and kissed her face, keeping her giggling.

Your eyes widened in shock at the man in front of you. Standing there was a man who was the splitting image of your boyfriend. Albeit he looked older, with crows feet at his eyes showing how much he laughed and grey strands at the side of his head mixing in with deep black that made him look even more handsome. He looked just like your Eijiro. Just older.

He held up Sachiko with one arm like it was nothing as he looked up at her with a broad smile. “There’s my girl.” He said, adoringly as he stared up at her as if she was an actual angel. “How are you, my little star?”

Sachiko smiled. “I’m good, Baba.” She turned to look down to a shorter woman at the man’s side. “Morning, grandma!”

The older looking woman let out a soft chuckle. She had deep red hair that had strands of grey in it as well. She had the warmest pair of golden hazel eyes you had ever seen, with a gentle loving smile on her face. She was dressed chic too, in a pretty dress. She reached up and put a hand to Sachiko’s face. “Morning, Sachi.”

“I missed you, two so much!”

“I missed you too.” He assured her. “Blame your father, he’s always trying to hoard you away from me.”

That made Eijiro pause with an offended look on his face, which made you giggle. Before he could speak on that fact, Sachiko spoke instead. “Baba,” She then looked to you. “This is Ms Y/N. She’s daddy’s girlfriend.” She claimed boldly with a proud smile almost as if she was the one who orchestrated this whole debacle.

Eyes went to you, the couple assessing you for a moment once their granddaughter had pointed you out. You glanced at Eijiro. He gave you a supportive smile, giving your hand a comforting squeeze. You turned back to the two of them. You gave them a smile and bowed in front of them respectfully. “Good morning. My name is L/N Y/N, it’s an honour to meet you both.”

First was Eijiro’s mom to let out an impressed hum. She smiled. “It’s nice to meet you too, dear. I’m Kirishima Yua, and this big man over here,” She motioned to her right to the large man. “Is my husband, Kirishima Takeo.”

Takeo gave you a bit of a dead stare as he assessed you, making you feel as if you were under a microscope. He then smiled, and slowly that smile turned into a smirk. “So you’re the person my son has been obsessing over.” He let out amusedly.

Eijiro let out a cough as he glared at his father. “Dad.”

Takeo shrugged, making Sachi giggle. “I’m not lying.” He stated plainly. He looked back to you. “It’s nice to meet you, pumpkin.”

You looked to him and then to Eijiro. You looked between the two of them, trying to spot the differences. “Your son never told me he looked so much like you.”

“You never asked.” Eijiro stated with a fold of his arms.

Takeo let out a loud laugh, lifting up Sachiko and putting her up on his large broad shoulders making her giggle. “Yep, my only boy and my twin. Good thing he’s as handsome as his old man.” He boldly claimed with a broad grin on his face, making you giggle.

Yua rolled her eyes with a swat to his arm. “Don’t mind Takeo, all our children look like him. Kirishima genes are strong.”

“I can see it with Eijiro and Sachi.” You stated as you found a place beside her.

Eijiro nodded his head proudly, like Sachiko had done not too long ago. “Damn right.” He said.

Sachiko looked down at her grandfather, holding onto his head. “Where are we going?”

“To take you to say hi to your cousins and aunts. Then we can go betting.” Takeo revealed to her. She let out a celebratory ‘yes’ making him chuckle.

You watched quietly as Eijiro said hi to his parents and Sachiko sat talking to her grandfather, holding onto her grandfather’s hair. She waved her legs forward and back as she sat on his shoulders. You eventually met their very large family. There were so many of them and they all looked so much like each other. They were very much like each other and very warm and open hearted.

You had seen Akari again and met her sons and saw pictures of her newborn daughter. You were surprised to meet Akari’s identical twin, Ayah, who was a paediatrician. Considering today was a family day at the Derby, you got to meet a lot of them and heard that it wasn’t even all of them.

You held Sachiko’s hand as you, Takeo and Sachi moved to check one of the booths that stated which horses to bet on. You had a hat on your head, blocking out the sun from your face and on your head. The three of you finally reached the overhead shade of the booth but then Sachiko stopped.

You looked down to the girl who raced to hide behind you. She gasped as she tried not to be seen. You raised an eyebrow looking back at her and so did Takeo. He tilted his head. Sachiko ducked back. “Oh no.”

“What’s up Sachi?” You asked her, putting a hand on her head.

Sachiko looked up at you and then looked forward. “It’s Asahi.” She whispered up to you.

You looked forward to see a brunette boy in a wheelchair. He had a bright smile as he looked up at his father with gleaming green eyes and dimples on his face. He had freckles littered all over his cheeks. Your eyebrows raised. You knew that boy. He was in your maths class in a year above Sachiko. He perked up, turning to look at the three of you before smiling broadly. “Miss Y/N!” He waved a hand over to you as he turned himself around.

You chuckled as you smiled over to him, the three of you moving forward. “Hey there, Asahi.”

“Morning Miss Y/N. It’s so good to see you.” Asahi looked up to Takeo. “It’s great to see you too, Kirishima-san.”

Takeo chuckled as he ruffled the boy’s curly hair. “It’s good to see you, Asahi. You’re looking stronger.” He praised.

Asahi sent up one of his dimpled smiles. “I’ve been practising in the pool. My physio said I’m getting better and faster. Isn’t that right, dad?” He turned to loop up at the tall green haired man behind him.

“That’s right, buddy.” He praised before looking at you. He lifted up his dark sunglasses to reveal the same captivating emerald eyes. A smirk went to his face, a dimple in his right cheek. “Midoriya Izuku, tech-multi-millionaire genius philanthropist, or Asahi’s father.” He introduced himself confidently making you chuckle.

You raised an eyebrow. “Oh so which one is it?”

Midoriya smirked, his eyes looking you up and down quickly before settling on your eyes once more. “It can be anything you want it to be.”

You put a hand to your chest and bowed. “Forgive me. I’m Ms L/N Y/N, I teach your son maths.” You informed him, making his eyebrow twitch up.

“Sorry I missed school on Thursday and Friday, Ms Y/N.” He apologised with a bow of his head. “I was at the hospital, but I’m alright now. I promise I’ll finish all my work by Monday.”

You crouched down closer to him with a smile. “It’s no problem, Asahi. I know your trying to stand on your own two feet so it’s no problem at all. I just don’t want you falling behind, okay?” You pinched his cheek making a soft pink blush go to his face. His eyes widened and he nodded his head sincerely.

Izuku was quiet for a moment before turning to Takeo. “Girlfriend?” He asked inquisitively.

Takeo chuckled as he shook his head, folding his arms. “Nope. Eijiro’s.” Izuku hummed as he nodded his head looking back at you.

Asahi looking around you before looking back up at you. “Excuse me, Miss but did Sachiko come to today’s derby?” He asked.

You opened your mouth to reply when you realised that Sachiko wasn’t behind you. You furrowed your eyebrows as you slowly stood up looking around for the girl in a crimson red dress with short black hair. “Sachi?” You asked confused. Immediately Takeo looked around as well, noticing that the girl had disappeared as well. “Where is she? She was just here… Sachi!” You turned around trying to find her.

Eijiro trusted you with his daughter, he trusts you with Sachiko because he knew that Sachiko would be safe with you. And now you couldn’t even find her. How could you lose her? She was an eleven year old girl, Lord knows what could happen to her on her own.

You felt your breathing rapidly increase in fear as your heart started to beat out of your chest. You looked around. “Y/N… Y/N… Y/N.” Takeo took you by your shoulders, making you pause. He saw you start to panic, your hands together. Takeo had his back towards the Midoriya’s keeping your panic out of sight from Asahi. “Honey, breathe. Keep your eyes on me. Breathe for me. In…” You kept your eyes up on his ruby eyes, and took a deep breath. “And out…” You let out a breath. “Good girl.” You felt a warm hand on your face making you breath out again. Takeo smiled down at you, the large man calming you down as despite the fact that it was his granddaughter that was missing. “How about you and me go find her, okay?”

“We'll look as well.” Izuku stated with a nod of his head before looking down at Asahi. “Right, buddy?”

Asahi nodded his head fiercely with a smile on his face. He put his hands on his push rings. “Don't worry, Ms Y/N and Kirishima-san.”

Izuku hummed as Asahi began to push himself forward. He kept a careful eye on his son, not entirely worried. “You okay?”

“Yep.” Asahi voiced, wanting to push himself.

You kept a smile on your face, wiping at your eyes with a sigh. “I'm sorry. That wasn't very professional of me.”

Takeo shook his head as he took out a handkerchief his wife made him and handed it over to you. “No, it’s okay sweetheart. You are allowed to feel, it’s normal.” He reminded you as you wiped at your eyes. You handed back the handkerchief and smiled. Takeo offered his arm to you with a smile. “Come on, lets take a walk around. We can even talk, just you and I.”

You nodded your head as you held onto his large arm, the warmth of his skin going through the shirt he was wearing. You held onto him as Takeo led you along, his tall frame towered over you as you walked side by side.

“You and Eijiro met at Sachi's school?”

“Yes,” You responded. “Eijiro had been called to school due to an incident that happened concerning Sachiko and another learner. However, we only started talking a month later when we met again after school at a PA meeting.”

Takeo nodded his head, digesting that piece of information. “Does he treat you right?”

You were surprised to hear such a question from him. It was an odd thing that he was thinking about you when it was his son that was still in the equation. You felt a flush up your face but nodded. “Yes. He really does. A bit more than I deserve, if I were honest with you.” You expressed with a scratch to the back of your neck. “He spoils me too much. I honestly feel so bad for how much he does for me. I don't feel like I'm reciprocating in return.”

Takeo frowned as he looked down at you but less in anger and more in slight worry. The older man had a caring but strict way about him. It was almost strange. He was so large, domineering even, and clearly much more experienced in life than you but he never come off as condescending. “It's a man's job to take care of you, sweetheart. You shouldn't feel the need to take care of yourself. You deserve to be pampered, spoiled and respected. Relationships are like that. A man wouldn't feel the need to make your life easier if you didn't make being in a relationship with him worth it. Which means you make your relationship worth it.” He explained to you. You looked up at him, all your attention on him as you nodded to his words as he looked deep into your eyes so intently. “Tell me, Y/N… how do you feel about my son?”

The question was another one that had you shocked. You weren't entirely sure what to say but you knew that you couldn't think about the answer forever either. So you said the first thing that came out of your head. “Warm.” It was Takeo's turn to look surprised. You thought about it some more but you were sure about it now. You nodded your head. “Yes… I feel warm. He makes me feel warm and safe, but I also feel complimented when I'm with him. Not that I feel good about myself but that we compliment each other. He's silly, loud and snores sometimes, but he's loving and caring. His heart is so full and yet so scared. I love him. I really do and I pray that we can stand a lifetime.” You attempted to explain your feelings to Takeo.

Takeo was silent for a moment before looking forward as you walked past people. “My son is a sensitive thing. He's always been sensitive. More so than a lot of his sisters. He was always the first to shed a tear when he was younger, and his feelings were so intense and big often than not they confused me. But that's what makes him Eijiro. He's delicate but strong in his own way, even if he needs help some of the time.  I see how he looks at you, and I see and hear how much he loves you. I think you're good for my son.”

At that, you turn to look at him in surprise. “But… today is the first day you have met me.”

“Believe me, Y/N,” He let out with an amused scoff. “The eyes never lie. You can tell so much from one interaction at two people than you can from knowing a whole history of them. I can tell.” He winked down at you making you giggle. “I knew my wife for nine months before I proposed to her. When you know, you know. I’m not married for forty-five years for no reason.” He humbly flexed. “I'm more… hesitant about your views on us as his family. Although by now, I'm sure Eijiro has told you a lot.”

You tilted your head in confusion. “What do you mean?” You asked softly.

You watched the older man hesitate, eyebrows furrowing for a moment. “The Kirishimas… we're a pretty traditional family, to put it simply. I'm in politics myself and the views me and my family have are rather… well some would call them leaning to conservative. I'm pretty sure that Eijiro has explained to you how he got Sachi.” You nodded your head. “I'm just warning you that Eijiro's a family man and you have to be okay with us, to stay with Eijiro.”

Although Takeo was being as nice as he could about the matter, you understood it plain and simple. It made sense and was a sensible argument. You were actually pretty glad to hear that he was talking about this to you. You paused making Takeo pause too. He turned to look at you as you smiled up at him. “Mr Kirishima, in the time that I've known your son, anything and everything he has ever said was either for the good of his child or logical. Never once has Eijiro or Akari tried to enforce anything on me concerning your views on things. I am not bothered by them, nor would I try to change them. That is how you raised your family and that is okay.”

Takeo took a moment to think about what you said and smiled. “I'm glad, pumpkin.” You felt him pat your head, catching you by surprise. The look on your face made him laugh. Before he could say anything, you saw something catch his eye. His eyebrows furrowed as he took a step forward. “Is that… Sachi?”

You turned to look where he was looking. It was then that you caught sight of the black haired girl, but you also noticed she was talking to an adult. The person she was talking to had short puffy blond hair and stood in all black before her. “Who is she talking to?” You asked looking up at Takeo.

The man looked furious as he swallowed down hard. “Bakugou Katsuki.” He told you.

At the name, you turned stiff.

Takeo stepped forward. “Sachiko!” Immediately at the sound of her name, Sachiko jolted in surprise as she looked to see who was calling her. Her eyes landed on her grandfather and you. However, he wasn't smiling. He motioned for her to come over to him. “Come here, now.” The girl turned and bowed to the blond in goodbye before leaving towards Takeo. The blond man looked over to Takeo. He stiffened at the sight of the older Kirishima.  

Sachiko stood before the both of you with a smile. You turned to her putting a hand on her shoulder. “Where did you go, Sachi? You can't just disappear without saying anything.” You told her with a worried look on your face.

“Sorry, I went looking for Aunty Mina.” She told you. “I couldn't find her, but I found that man who knows her and-"

“Sachiko.” At the sound her name, Sachiko turned to look up at Takeo. Takeo had a frown on his face as he kept looking at the blond who now had another blond woman with him and a brunette man stand with him. “I don't want you ever talking to that man again without a family member present, do you understand me?”

Sachiko tilted her head confused; her eyebrows furrowed. “But Baba, I don't understand.”

“Ah, there you guys are.” Eijiro walked over to the three of you with a smile and a cupcake in hand. “The derby is about to start and turns out Thunder is in the race.” He spoke optimistically. Eijiro then noticed the mood of the space he had just walked in. He looked to his father. Eijiro's gaze then moved to the group of blonds and the brunette man that were slowly making their way here. You watched as Eijiro went pale as he froze.

Sachiko noticed this too, not liking the mood of who she was around. She put her hands on her father's free hand. “Daddy? Daddy, what's wrong?” She asked worriedly. Eijiro's pupils went small almost in fear, his hands slightly shaking.

The blond woman was gorgeous, she smirked with red lips and just as captivating eyes that were more of a brick red. She was dressed fashionably, everything complementing her body. She was a beautiful woman and by the look on her face, it was clear she knew it. “Well I'll be. Kirishima Takeo. It’s been a while.” She spoke. You watched her viperous eyes move up and down Takeo's figure. “You’re looking good.”

Takeo’s jaw tensed. “Mitsuki…” He looked to her husband who stood behind her with a gentle smile on her face. At the sight of him, Takeo seemed to ease slightly, not seeming to have any issues with him. “Masaru and Katsuki.” He briefly looked to their blond son before looking at Mitsuki again. “You're here.”

She chuckled. “Did you expect otherwise? The Bakugous are the top ranked fashion brand in Japan after all.” She reminded him.

You looked to Eijiro noticing his expression hadn't changed. You quickly put your hand over his, leaning over to whisper in his ear. “Eijiro…” At the sound of his name he turned to you. You gave him a worried look before his eyes moved to a worry Sachiko.

“Actually, we were meaning to talk to you or Akari, business never ends afterall. Might we enjoy the race with you?” Mitsuki suggested.

Takeo frowned at the thought. “No thank you. It’s a rare day for my family to all be out and about like this together.”

Mitsuki smirk only broadened. “Oh but on the contrary, Takeo, we are joined by blood aren't we… Eijiro?” The question made Takeo glare as Mitsuki only seemed firm in her statement.

“Daddy?” Sachiko spoke as she tugged on Eijiro's arm.

Immediately the Bakugous looked to her. Mitsuki’s eyebrows raised in surprise at the girl, Masaru’s gaze softened realising who she was. However, Katsuki turned pale as he froze at the sight of her. With Katsuki's eyes on his daughter, Eijiro snapped out of his daze.

He frowned. “Sachiko, go with Y/N and get cupcakes. Aunty Tamami is there, and she'll take you to the rest of the family.” He ordered simply. He glanced at you, and you nodded understandingly.

You took Sachiko's hand trying to lead her away from the rest of the adults. “Come on, Sachi.” You spoke softly.

“But-" She started off as she looked to her father again. “But Daddy are you-"

“Kirishima Sachiko, do not argue with me right now.”

She paused at his tone, strict, but at the same time almost pleading with her to leave. She hesitated as she glanced at the blond man once more, before bowing her head respectfully, in the way she was taught to behave especially in public. “Yes, Daddy.” You offered her your hand and she allowed you to take her away, heading to get cupcakes.

A hum came out of the blond woman as she watched Sachiko walk away. “Oh isn't she gorgeous?” Mitsuki commented as she folded her arms. “My pretty little grand-"

“What do you want, Mrs Bakugou?” Eijiro asked interrupting her as he frowned mimicking his father's defensive stance.

Mitsuki looked to Katsuki. Katsuki swallowed down hard before looking at Takeo instead. “A business proposal if you will. We would like to purchase some of your diamonds to start a jewellery line, to put it simply.”

Takeo hesitated but looked to Eijiro. “That's for Eijiro to decide whether it’s worth the business venture. That's his department.” He revealed, turning all eyes to Eijiro.

Eijiro looked to Katsuki, emotionlessly. “Send your proposal to my secretary. I'm not working today.” He dismissed.

“But it would be such a good venture, would it not?” Mitsuki asked with a raised eyebrow. “The Bakugou and Kirishima brand together, wouldn’t that be wonderful?”

Eijiro didn’t respond as he looked down at his watch. “Excuse us, but the race is about to start.”

-Glitch1d

#kirishima x reader #dad kirishima #eijiro kirishima #dilf kirishima #kirishima eijiro #eijiro kirishima x reader #kirishima eijirou x reader #kirishima eijiro x reader #kirishima eijirou #dilf kirishima x reader #eijiro x reader

[echobx]

Truth or Dare - Rafe Cameron × fem!reader

summary: Topper convinces Rafe to take part in a harmless game of Truth or Dare

warnings: none

word count: 872

author's note: I was trying to work on a prompt and it went sideways, so you get a blurb instead lol (still working on the prompts tho, my dudes)

“Why would I play a children's game on my own account?” Rafe scoffed but Topper kept grinning at him, his stupid Topper grin. “What? You look sick, dude.” 

“Y/n is playing,” Topper said and flashed his eyebrows. 

“So?” Rafe tried his best to seem not interested, taking another sip of his whiskey. 

“One game, come on. I'll pay double for your shit if you play,” Topper proposed and Rafe knew he couldn't let that deal flop. Barry was still on his neck from the last time, and he wanted to keep some cash for himself too for once. 

“Fine,” he grumbled and walked into the other room where you sat amongst your friends in a circle, playing Truth or Dare and giggling. 

There was something about you that Rafe couldn't quite catch, it was like you were always glowing. When he saw you at the beach or out with friends or studying at a Café in town, one he had just recently started visiting regularly because it was your favorite study spot. 

“Can we join?” Topper asked and you flashed him a bright smile. 

“The more, the better.” Your voice was like music, high notes bound together by an underlying sweet melody. Rafe had never thought to hear anything so sweet. 

He wasn't someone who fell for girls easily, he had never really fallen for anyone, but there was something about you that made him want you more than he had ever craved anybody. 

“I'm not sitting on the floor,” Rafe hissed under his breath, but Topper just pulled him down, and when he heard your soft giggle and caught you staring at him, he forgot why he was so against these games. Your light blushing and instantly turning your gaze away from him gave him an insurmountable boost of ego. 

“Truth or Dare,” someone asked and pointed at Topper, “I don't know your name, sorry.” 

“I'm Topper,” he introduced himself with a polite smile before slapping Rafe on the back. “And that's Rafe.” 

“Okay, Topper,” the girl who had asked chuckled, “what's your choice?” 

“Truth,” Topper grinned. 

“Why’d you wanna play?” 

“Playing is fun, we like games. Right? Rafe?” Topper looked at Rafe who had a hard time not gritting his teeth. 

“Yeah, fun,” Rafe muttered and took another drink. 

The game went on and Rafe was glad that he didn't get involved much, it gave him more time to look at you. You were sitting crisscrossed, your hair hung in soft waves over your shoulders. Your top was giving him a good view of your cleavage and the shorts were short enough to probably show half your ass, standing up. 

“Truth or Dare, Rafe,” Topper asked from next to him, and you watched them closely. 

You had noticed that Rafe couldn't keep his eyes off of you, and it felt nice to be admired for once, especially by a guy like him. 

“I don't care,” Rafe sighed, swinging his head from side to side. 

“Okay, dare it is. Kiss the prettiest girl in this room,” Topper grinned and Rafe wanted to strangle him on the spot. This was not how it was supposed to go. He had wanted to play the gentleman for once, woo you with his charm and newfound sweetness, but Topper didn't seem to think it a good idea. 

“That's gonna be unfair to the rest of the ladies in the room,” Rafe tried to get himself out of the Dare.

“I think the ladies will forgive you, right, ladies?” Top said with a light swing in his voice, he was way more drunk than Rafe had thought. 

You watched them argue silently before Rafe got up and downed his drink, putting the glass down on a side table behind him. Then he took a few steps towards you and held out his hand. 

You were hesitant to take it, your heart pounding as if it wanted to jump out of your chest. And when your skin touched his you felt a jolt of electricity go through your body, it was comfortable and warm and exhilarating. 

Rafe pulled you to your feet and held onto you. He smelled expensive, like the cologne your dad only ever used on special occasions. His eyes were of an electrifying blue and his lips looked soft, softer than you had ever imagined. 

“Are you sure?” he whispered, and you nodded, looking up at him. He was so tall compared to your soft and small physique. 

Rafe wet his lips, taking his hand up to cradle your jaw in his big hands. He leaned down and you up, meeting in a swift kiss. But once his lips had connected to yours he didn't want to let go again, and you didn't have any complaints about it either. You looped your arms around his neck, fingers raking through his hair at the nape of his neck. 

“I think that's more than enough,” you could hear Topper holler and broke away from the boy who had wanted to keep kissing you. 

“Uhm, I'm sorry,” you apologized and wanted to turn away again, but Rafe held onto your hand and pulled you back towards him, twirling you into his arms. 

“I'm not,” he whispered. 

please don't copy and/or post my work onto other platforms! ~e©ho

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#rafe cameron #rafe cameron fanfic #rafe cameron fluff #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron x you #~blurb #my writing #obx #outer banks #obx fanfiction