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# hmm how bout ALL
wellthatschaotic · 1 year
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i hate our menstrual cycle
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louebel · 8 months
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— [ 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐅𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 . . . 𝟐 .ᐟ ]
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𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: sanji, zoro, mihawk, buggy × gn!reader 𝐢𝐧𝐟𝐨/𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: not proofread and rushed,, it's not as wholesome as the first and more calm + horny my bad, lowercase, gets a bit explicit with sanji and buggy at the end... i am deeply sorry not. rest is sfw, fluff, and... fluff. usage of "baby, sweetness, honey, good boy" (and... others? i forgot) in all of them except zoro's, lots of caresses and kisses! these are rather short,, anddd dripping divider by @ benkeibear :) 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: you couldn't help but share the sudden warmth you felt with them, resulting in... a lot of kisses! ... and more. part one is here!! though idk should i repost it? since it's in my archived blog— eh idk maybe not.
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— 𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐌𝐎𝐊𝐄 𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐉𝐈, wc. 699
"sanji... honey..."
a very pleasant smell engulfed the kitchen. sweet and homely, a dish that piqued your appetite. seagulls could be heard outside the sunny, the sun rising slowly to greet all those who continued their lives.
and then there were you two, already awake. sanji always got up earlier, and so you did too, wanting to keep him company at such early hours. you could still hear sanji's wails and the rivers of tears plopping onto the wood at your kind gestures, and you swore you saw the sunny sweatdrop that day. (you were definitely not imagining things...)
"hmm? yes, love?"
his voice was your greatest weakness. freshly awake, groggy with sleep... if only you could both rest right now — what you'd do to feel him tend to your scalp, brushing his treasured fingers upon you, perhaps humming a tune in your ears. you remembered his words: "because my love for you is so profound, i can't contain it" and now, every time he murmurs, you melt a little more, thinking of what he said. of course, not all the time, sometimes he just does it.
sadly, however, you couldn't go back to sleep. he had to cook, and he was going to treat you with the most delicious, mouthwatering breakfast ever, but you'd still be disappointed since what you wanted was... something else. you were so spoiled...
"i think i could get something else for breakfast... it's fine, right?"
now, you know sanji despised wasting food. it wouldn't really be a problem considering luffy, but... why didn't you say anything?
he glanced at you from his shoulder, a bit perplexed. he felt his heart flutter as you approached him, wrapping your arms around his waist, pressing your face on his tender nape.
"sweetness?"
"... those are definitely sweet," you pointed at the pancakes, already smiling, "but i think you're sweeter."
it was only morning, damnit. and yet here he was, already blushing, cheeks tinted a lovely shade of pink. a small chuckle rumbled from his chest, the cook lowering the heat as the first batch was ready, before turning to you and pressing a tender kiss upon your forehead.
"you do, love?"
"mhm. and, you know, i'd really like if you gave me some of your love right now. i think that's the most sweet... 'm thinking about just sitting here and kissing you all over while telling you "i love you, i love you, i love you" ," you brought his hand to your chest, smiling at how his visible eye softened. "feels really warm right here, just thinking 'bout it..." you were so wonderful that sanji might just die on the spot.
"oh, love... you can't just say those things so early..."
"hmm? and why not?"
"... m—might faint."
fainting in your arms didn't sound so bad though, he thought dreamily.
"ppff... if you faint, i won't shower you with kisses."
"i won't faint."
you giggled at his suddenly determined tone. tenderly brushing your lips around the side of his neck, you nudged his jaw, sliding your hands under his shirt, feeling him tense beneath your skimming fingers. his flesh felt firmer to the touch, lineaments of his abdomen and torso defined with each part you mapped.
"hmm... i love you so much, sanji. really love you, hon."
"... a—ah, getting handsy, aren't you?"
you loved how he got so flustered with just a couple of touches. he shuddered as you placed your hand on the crook of his neck, pulse quickening beneath your thumb. he was rather sensitive, there, too...
"you— you know, i, hnngh, think you're the sweetest..." he whimpered, his slender fingers finding your tantalizing ones.
"hmmm? is that so, honey?"
"y—yes — ohh... love..."
you were gliding dangerously lower...
"mmm... you're so hard, sanji." oh... "i think you should relax a bit before cooking..." oh my... "it's so early... you need proper rest." ba-dump.
"... i—i do, don't i? heh... hehe..."
"yeah, you do. come on... i'll show you just how sweet i am. will give you all my love. you want that, baby?"
"oh, ooh please... goodness, don't—don't hold back, mon ange..."
"mhm... good boy. relax..."
and soft moans soon filled the piquant kitchen — followed by smooches, wet sounds, and declarations of love from both ends.
you truly were the sweetest in his eyes.
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— 𝐑𝐎𝐑𝐎𝐍𝐎𝐀 𝐙𝐎𝐑𝐎, wc. 388
"zoro... your face looks pretty kissable today."
sometimes, zoro had no idea what went through your head. you've both been sitting on the deck, zoro against the mast and you lying your head on his lap. he was going to take a nap but it seemed you were feeling chatty, so he decided to entertain you for a little while before he dozed off.
he had no idea what you were thinking, but he liked it.
"does it?" he mumbled, gazing down at you to see you shift in his lap, eyebrow raising as you got up and cuddled to his side, chin on his shoulder. he tilted his head slightly, seeing your pupils dilating at the sight of him; already quite big as the sun was setting. he smirked, though the expression on your face only made his heart beat faster.
you looked completely smitten.
"yep. very."
"hmm..."
smooch. smooch. smooch.
"oi..."
and he probably did, too, in his own way. he couldn't see it, but you did. how he relaxed, how he so softly sighed. you smiled, realizing just how much he laid himself bare to you. it wasn't the same trust he shared with luffy, no. it was something more intimate. something... sweeter. and with each osculate to his neck and jaw, zoro loosened just a bit further, his consciousness slowly slipping away.
"hm. thought you said my face." yet, he still taunted you, with that stupid smug grin on his lips. you rolled your eyes, continuing to pamper him with love.
"shut up. mm..."
smooch.
"love you, zoro. so much."
you slowly pushed him down on the floor, the swordsman tensing a little before following your silent command. you lay on his body, his arms splayed on the wood, eye closed as you kissed his eyelid, brow, and nose. a reddish hue colored his cheeks, chuckling as your tiny, adoring pecks tickled his skin.
so lovely.
" 'that so..?"
"yeah."
your eyes mitigated further, noting the corners of his mouth curve up more. you were lucky...
"mhh... y'know, i think you look pretty kissable today, too."
he'll rearrange his naps, just for you. with a kiss to your lips, he sealed the unspoken "i love you" with his tender actions — his heart all yours.
and he'd care for your own... like one of his swords.
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— 𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐔𝐋𝐄 𝐌𝐈𝐇𝐀𝐖𝐊, wc. 338
perona was speechless. she knew, she knew. she knew that you were dracule's lover...
"miiiiihaaawk... will you look at me?"
but what she witnessed was as surprising as the first time you told her that.
you grinned at the sighing warlord, shutting his book as you've been pestering him for minutes. arms wrapped around him, kisses to his neck — he wasn't a man easily swayed, even by you. the armchair leaned back as he finally eased, your form against his soft.
"... do you have nothing to do?" he huffed, rather tired of your games. interrupting him was almost sin; perona had no idea how you lived. were these the privileges of being dracule mihawk's partner? he treated you so differently... how could you even fall for someone as brooding as him? every time she did something nice, like give him pastries or clean the castle as she had nothing to do, he'd ignore her completely. (though he appreciated it.)
"i do. i'm loving you." yet here he was, letting you speak and do as you wished with a faint smile on his face. he looked like a big cat.
"something other than that."
"hmm... no. i wanna love you right now."
the longer she watched from her little corner, the more her mind crumbled.
"... you're impossible."
"but you love me too. like how i love you. i love you a lot."
you were so... mushy. something that did not connect to mihawk at all — unless you were around. his actions conveyed what he felt, even if they were scarce at the moment.
"you..."
"like, a looot. you know? a lot. i really do."
but... no words would topple from his mouth, perona was sure of that.
"i reciprocate." incredibly sure.
"c'mon, say it." there was no way.
"... i love you too."
"there you go. good boy."
he could only sigh at your antics — though inside he felt as warm as a star. after that, perona left her hiding spot and dragged her jaw that sat on the floor.
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— 𝐁𝐔𝐆𝐆𝐘 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐍, wc. 426
buggy was not happy.
he was not happy you gave him a kiss, in front of his whole crew, completely unbothered as you pretty much established he was yours. he did not like it. at all.
"just..! what do you think you're doing?! kissing me out of nowhere? they have no idea we're together! what if someone took a photo!—"
"did i tell you?"
"—tell me what?"
you chuckled while he blinked. it was always funny how simple it was to make him stop; one word and he'd immediately listen to you. it was as if his own temporarily had no weight, just to hear your own thoughts, only to slander them later or actually agree with them.
most of the time, he ended up stuttering. you loved how much he hated you teasing him; it became your favorite pastime.
"you look incredibly cute." your grin always meant trouble.
"my nose looks redder than usual??"
your chuckle the last sound he heard,
"no. you, look, cute. cute. adorable. precious." and your words forever his downfall.
you could see his cheeks gaining color, a pretty rouge that matched his lipstick and nose, mirth decorating your face at the view. he was just so, so so cute. but when he snorted and flailed his hands around with parts of his body floating at the use of his devil fruit... that's when he got even cuter.
"y—you say that all the time!" he squeaked and pointed at you, stomping closer to you to somehow look "threatening". in reality, he was just a cub. you kept on smiling, looking at him with an adoring gaze that managed to make his poor heart stop — your affection a treat he relished.
"i mean it." plus, when your voice had that adoring tone... he could do nothing but take what you said. maybe he was just making a big deal out of things...
"w—well! of course you mean it, hahaha! i'm... buggy the... aah..."
his eyes almost popped out of his sockets as you got closer to him; wrapping your arms around his waist, teeth nibbling his neck. a tiny, soft moan that made you shudder left buggy's lips, already trembling.
oh...
"... mm... love you so much, baby. 'm sure they don't mind the kiss... come here."
he could barely get a word in, before his squeals and whimpers reached even those outside, as all of his skin got caressed by your lips. soon, he was screaming "i love you too!" and your stunt was the last thing he thought about.
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rafeysdoll · 19 days
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Reader finding a little kitten somewhere and begging rafe to keep it ♡
i struggled soooo much with this request i have no idea why when i literally thought of something similar to this a few days ago >.<. i hope you enjoy it though, struggled the most with the ending ^_^
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“it’s reallll hot ray,” you comment rather obviously as rafe leads you down the street, making sure you stay on the side where cars don’t pass by placing his large hand at the small of your back, directing you. 
“know that baby, we’ll get you some water in a bit, alright?” he promises, making you nod compliantly, about to take another step before you hear a soft meow— your heart practically skipping a beat when you look down to find a small kitten besides your new baby pink heels. 
“oh my god!” you squeal, quickly reaching for the lovely animal, lips tugged into a bright big smile. 
before you can pick the kitty up, rafe grabs your wrist, pulling it back quickly. “could have rabies and shit, should know we don’t touch strays. it’s not hygienic, baby.”
you can only thrash your hands against him, melting as the kitten starts rubbing their head against your ankle, purring lightly. “ohhh, look how cute!!” you chirp, quickly grabbing the undomesticated kitten into your arms as soon as you escape rafe’s tight hold. 
“can’t just leave—” you pause, lifting the kitten up to examine the gender. “—her here! she’ll never survive the poor thing..” you sympathize, petting her soft fluffy fur.
rafe could only roll his eyes, shaking his head. 
“thought i told you not to touch it- her. probably has fleas and ticks crawling up all over her body.” he scolds, rubbing the side of his forehead in frustration. 
you don’t even pay much attention to him now, too distracted at the way the small kitten purrs and meows. “oh you’re just the cutest girl ever, aren’t you? what should we name you, hmm?” you ask the kitten as if she could speak back to you. 
“hey! ‘m talking to you, you hear me? d-don’t know why you’re talking ‘bout naming her. we’ll drop her off at a clinic but you should know we’re not bringing her home with us.” 
“w-what? but rafe! look at her.. she’s perfect. it has to be fate! she even came up to us! we can’t abandon her to random strangers,” you beg, hugging her close to your chest. 
“promise i’ll take care of feeding her and cleaning up after her, please let’s take her back home!” you continue, staring up at him with those wide and glossy doe eyes. 
he stays silent for awhile, chewing at the side of his cheek. “.. gotta promise me—,” 
“oh thank you!” you squeal, your eyes burning with what could only be happy tears. “i love you so muchhh!” you rant, kissing all over rafe’s cheek. 
you return back home with your new kitty, who you sweetly named, ‘luna’, as it so read in her shiny pink collar you and rafe picked out while she was receiving a proper de-flea treatment as well as a few necessary shots, rafe squeezing that time to remind you of all the things he wanted you to take care of with your new responsibility. 
and as as the night settled in and luna laid sound asleep in her soft bed, you dolled yourself up in the restroom—changing to a soft white lingerie set, approaching rafe with a cheeky smile. 
“think its time for me to give you your proper thank you, now.. right?” 
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nymphany · 9 months
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COD X PUPPY HYBRID! READER
Masterlist
MINORS DNI
WARNING:CONTAINS SEMI DARK THEMES DO NOT READ IF YOURE NOT INTRESTED
Fic contains: taboo / dark content please read this warning if you are triggered by any of this material
Reader info:
Referred with: she/her/girl/you
British! Pan! Short! Afab! Feminine! Reader
Coming soon: cat, bunny, mouse, deer, bear, cow, lamb and bird version
♡ callsign: cadaver!
♡ oh where to start with this little ball of energy!!!
♡ shes so dumb </3 but she's good at her job so that's all that matters
♡ it was a surprise to 141 to be presented with the least intimidating hybrid as their newest addition to the team
♡ this bubbly little thing who was practically shaking in excitement, her tail wagging so hard it looked like it was about to fly off
♡ naturally the men were disappointed that they're newest member wasnt some unbeatable tank but instead a tiny thing who was fueled by praise and treats
♡ speaking of praises and treats gaz cant help but spoil you!! Price tells him not to
"she wont listen if you give her so many treats"
"shes a good girl she always listens"
• hes right you do always listen, you're very obedient maybe too obedient
♡ despite his denial of your treats, your favourite man is obviously price <3 something about puppies and grumpy old men is a match made in heaven !!
♡ you like his ear scratches the best especially when you're in his office with your head on his lap
♡ he says he only likes you for your work but everyone knows that's a lie especially when he pays extra attention to you during lunch. Hes just making sure you eat all your food so you're big and strong
♡ you know how some dads pet their dogs my giving their back a good smack and rub? that's what hed do to you <3
♡ he has a wide selection of beef jerky in his office but you only eat it when someone feeds it to you <3 they're not allowed to hand it to you or place it infront of you they must feed it to you directly!! Makes you happy (you try your best not to nip at their fingers when they feed you but you just get so happy you cant help it)
♡ ghost can never be sarcastic around you your dumb brain cant handle it :( "go count every grain of rice in the kitchens if you're so bothered 'bout the numbers" and you do!!! he feels horrible because he knows you suck at counting :(( it must of took you ages to even get to 50
♡ its okay because it gives soap and gaz an excuse to pamper you!! You dont exactly understand why you're being pampered (must be because you're such a good girl for counting all that rice) but you accept it. It does make ghost feel so much worse for making you do things he didnt mean </3
"You're such a good puppy! You're so good at listening and you're so pretty!"
"Gaz that's enough I already said sorry"
"Aw come on Lt you made the poor thing count every grain of rice cant expect us to not rub it in can ya"
♡ ghost does make it up to you eventually, he takes you on walks around the base and points out secrets and tells you their stories
"Oi pup Do you see that dent in the wall?"
"Yes!"
"Johnny came back after a night out and rammed himself into it thinking his shadow was an intruder"
♡ they always have atleast one of your chew toys on them at all times after they noticed you chewing the inside of your mouth, your fingers, their sleeves or just anything you could fit in your mouth
♡ SCENTING!!!!
♡ your team must smell like you all the time, always, forever !!!! Whenever you get them alone youre immediately licking them!! Sometimes you bite but you're working on it <3
♡ if they come back from somewhere you have to smell them, what if they smell like another hybrid hmm?!?! >:((
♡ which is why you hate baths.
♡ they wipe away all your hard work I mean come on it's not easy to get the scent of your four favourite men nor is it easy to scent them!!! They're constantly around other people >:(((((
♡ luckily you arent the smartest so it's easy to trap and lure you in with kisses <3
♡ some one HAS to be in the bath/shower/ room with you
1. you cant be trusted not to eat the soap (smell nice ≠ taste nice)
2. Its scary in there
3. You get distracted and forget to even get in the bath/shower
♡ they treat you so well though !!! your ears and tail are always so soft when you let gaz wash them, he takes such good care of the soft fur and he never ever let's the bubbles  stay in your ears and he spends a good long time near your tail but you have no idea why <3
♡ soap likes washing your body! He loves watching you relax as he takes his time to make sure you're clean, he loves letting you lean against him as he washes your back and loves watching the suds run down your body. hes so sweet that he makes sure to pay extra attention to your sensitive areas <3
♡ price is the one tasked to dry you off, you seem to only listen to him anyway (of course you do, your dumb doggy brain has to listen to the leader of your pack)
♡ he pulls you against him using your towel as leverage, he so graciously put it in the dryer to warm up so you're all toasty and warm. You sit in his lap while he rubs your body dry whispering praises about your "bravery" to even go into the bath/shower
♡ Which leaves ghost in charge of your skin care!! This big scary man lathering your body in lotions and creams so you're all soft and smooth. He loves the moans and whimpers when he presses down on your weak spots <3
"Oi mutt stop licking the moisturiser"
"No no nooo :((( Say the thing :((("
"....Simons says stop licking the moisturiser"
♡ you never wear clothes after your bath/shower, they're lucky to get underwear on you, you need to be as open to they're scents as possible!! Maybe you'll wear their clothes but only maybe
♡ our puppy wasn't meant to meet Alejandro and Rudy until the mission was over but she said her nose could be put to good use and laswell couldnt help but agree (puppy definitely didn't bribe her or anything puppy hugs do wonders)
♡ at first alejandro didnt even see the girl behind the mountain sized men, assuming it's only ghost and soap coming along
"This is cadaver, our k9 unit she'll be coming along with us"
"Hello!"
"Ah un perro! you'll be very useful"
♡ it was a tight squeeze in the backseat, two military men left little room but it's okay you enjoy sitting on their laps so it's not much different
"So they call you cadaver?"
"Yes sir!"
"You good at hunting corpses?"
"Uh huh! very good! The best!"
"Good because we're looking for a dead man walking"
":00?? A zombie :((("
♡ overall you got on very well with alejandro and Rudy <3 whenever they passed you they always gave a light scratch to your ear
♡ you dont understand the language but you like the attention and that's all that matters, they're so nice and help you cool off in the sun,  you just need to get naked so they can help cool you off just let them help dont even worry about it
♡ you liked graves when you met him he got so hyped up on missions the energy traveled to you
♡ although he definitely tries to make you loyal to him and him only (mmm yummy dark! Graves <3<3) hes always been a fan of hybrids especially the vulnerable ones. Hes best at love bombing you, filling you with treats, pets and roaming hands. Hes a sucker for puppy girls
♡ valeria made you cry when you met her :(( well it was actually rudy but he didnt mean to he felt awful :(((
"Perro estúpido, solo eres una perra reproductora, ¿no? no hay pensamientos en esa linda cabeza tuya"
"Thank you :D"
"Dont thank her shes insulting you"
":(((("
• he gave you so many hugs, treats and kisses after he apologized profusely he forgot how sensitive you are he just didnt want you to thank her for insulting you :((
♡ mommy valeria tho so shes easily forgiven with a few fake compliments.
"You must think twice as hard with that brain of yours"
"Oh no! I dont even think once! :D"
♡ you entertain her, although she does wonder how it would feel to live in your head for a day
"Even the dogs in Las almas know not to bark at me"
"Oh no silly! We're in a shipping container"
"Yes in Las almas"
"Since when"
♡ thinking about how puppy got to keep valeria company while the big strong men go fight, guard dog duties !! Dont ask her how she got naked... and why valerias fingers are pruned... that's not important and you should mind your business
♡ cadaver has a muzzle and harness <3 !!! If you've ever been checked for harness safety you'll understand the feeling of being tugged around and how easy it is to want to jump someones bones
♡ ZOOMIES!!!
♡ always at odd hours too but you cant help it !! you have a lot of energy and you're too dumb to put that energy to good use :(( so it's only natural you jump on everyone and everything <3
♡ nesting with all of their clothes and belongings and they cant stop you or they'll get viciously attacked (you will cry)
♡ sticker collection (scented ones are the best) + mask decorating with ghost !!!!!
♡ konig is a scary big giant man whose just a silly guy at heart but jesus christ he needs to shrink
♡ the first time you met him you actually didnt see him, assuming the sun had exploded and the solid black mass that obscured your vision was the end of the world only to be corrected by an apology from the wall itself
"ah I'm so sorry I didnt see you there"
"Me neither :D"
♡ so big and scary but so warm and protective!! Ghost doesn't like you near konig he doesnt like sharing his toys with kortac
♡ you still hang out with him whenever you get the chance!! <3 friendship bracelets for all!! You did however underestimate how big these mens wrists were and cried when they wouldnt fit
༺*:゚・✧・:*:゚・♡ NSFW ♡・゚:*:・✧・゚:*༻
♡ oral fixation all the way !!
♡ mouth cockwarming!!!! Below prices desk? Yes!! Feeling sleepy and need to suck on something?? Soap is your guy!! Want to learn about the human anatomy? Rudy is there to help
♡ sweaty balls in my mouf
♡ slobbering on them until they scrunch up like raisins, suck the man juice out of them
♡ our puppy has a leash and collar so it's only natural they use it on you, held back by the neck as one of them is pounding into you
♡ puppy likes scent and prefers sex before
and after a work out
♡ listen... piss kink
♡ I just feel like they'd be in a meeting and she tries so so sooo hard to tell someone she needs to pee but they keep telling her to hold it (graves) but she just cant price made sure to keep her hydrated during lunch :(( it's too much and her bladder isnt big enough
♡ whimpers fill the air the sound of dripping water accompanying it their heads turning to face her as sobs bubble out of her mouth along with apologise while she so desperately cover her face to avoid the embarrassment. Her thighs clenched desperately to stop the stream but her attempts were In vain
♡ the first to realise what had happened was soap the fact that he was sitting next to her and had perfect view access to her entire body
"Aw pet don' cry its jus' an accident, happens to the best of us"
♡ :(((( shes so upset but our boys dont mind shes usually so well behaved and she obviously didn't mean to do it on purpose
"Oh puppy you tried so hard to tell us and we completely ignored you didnt we?"
"Uh huh"
"Yeah? And we didnt listen when you said you couldnt hold it did we"
"No i- but I- I did try to hold I really tried hard b-but I couldnt an- and now I've made a mess"
♡ they cant ignore the arousal they get from seeing her soaked and sobbing <3 they know it's wrong, shes upset and embarrassed but they just cant help it
♡ graves is a gross man who looks like fix it felix but dont let that fool you he 100% loves the control he gets from a piss kink especially for our puppy, he likes making you hold it and then mocks you in a high pitched voice but your dumb little brain thinks hes comforting you
♡ I think simon is more one for fucking you until you pee, he usually does it in the shower so he can wash off but he doesnt mind getting dirty, he likes the feeling of your cunt squeezing and gushing around him especially if you try to tell him to stop. Youre gonna pee? Yeah? Do it
♡ gaz is someone who likes to watch you pee he loves the view <3 the fluttering of your cunt draws him in road trip side of road
♡ Johnny, similar to his L.T, is someone who teases you until you pee. Rubbing your clit until its puffy and sore and you cant hold yourself up right let alone your bladder
♡ alejandro and Rudy like watching you wiggle they'll purposefully fill you with liquid and press on your tummy just to watch you squirm, they have bets on who can make you loose it first
♡ price pees in you
♡ theres a reason hes your favourite
♡ you know how I talked about scenting??... I hate to break it to you but she has definitely peed on them/their stuff at some point
♡ you mostly pee on price
♡ "what are you doing"
"Nothin"
"Where are you pants"
"I dont know"
"You're not gonna pee on the floor are you"
"No"
"That's right you're not because that would be bad"
"bad"
"Thats right bad"
"..."
"..."
"..."
"...."
"Just a little"
"No-"
♡ heats are always a pain for you :(( so horny and so wet desperate for someone to fill you with the pups you need. You drive the team crazy with your whimpers and cries but they know you cant help it, you're just achey :(((
♡ bullet vibrators are your best bet as they obviously cant fuck you 24/7 so that small buzzing of pleasure keeps you satiated until they can get their hands on you, the first time you had your heat you couldnt get the small thing out :(( your fingers were too small and it was so slippery you couldnt grasp it :((( you're so lucky your captain is kind enough to help you <3 dont think about his fingers wiggling inside you hes just trying extra hard to get it out that's why hes pumping them in and out of you
♡ sometimes they have to keep you in a cage because you wont stop begging to be stuffed, they dont want a rookie to think that they're allowed to overstep their place just because your in heat
♡ you hump everything!!!! Nothing is safe they take their shirt off for one second and it's on a pillow being jumped by no other than you!! You absolute fiend!!!
♡ you follow them around everywhere you love being around you favourite men!!!
♡ when 141 go on a mission you're left with Rudy and alejandro who always give in to you whines and begs <3 they treat you so well always stuffing you full when you need it, letting you have as much cum as you please, it makes the 141 so jealous that they have to fuck you as soon as they get back!
♡ graves probably pimps out puppy to his shadows there I said it
♡ konig isnt to slick with his touches either, he may think hes going undetected but that's only by our dumb mutt the other men are fuming with him. He let's you sit in his lap, his bear like hands inbetween your thighs rubbing along your most intimate areas you dont exactly connect what hes doing and hes completely okay with that just grind yourself back on him.
♡ he probably asks horangi to help him out, probably stretching you to prepare for the brute of the man
♡ definitely think gangbangs are a big part of your heat, vibrators, plugs, rope and muzzles are all items your familiar with. I like to think they just come and go when fucking you it's almost like a brothel
♡ they definitely finger fuck you while doing mindless tasks, brushing their teeth? You're bent over the sink pushing yourself back onto them, doing paperwork? Being cockwarmed by your snug lil cunt, lifting weights? You're bouncing on their cock weighing them down
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illusioninfnty · 6 months
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day 23 ; virginity loss
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↠ bo sinclair x reader
fandom: house of wax word count: 2.8k warnings: nsfw 18+, bimbo!reader, reader has shitty friends, coercion, corruption, dubconish, fingering, blowjob, cum swallowing, dirty talk, kind of semi-public sex, unprotected sex, creampie, pervy!Bo, allusion to murder, the plot is like a bad porno but i promise this is good guys
kinktober m.list || read on ao3
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“God, did you forget to fill the tank again?”
You lean over from the backseat to take a look at the fuel gauge, and see the arrow is nearing empty. You furrow your eyebrows. “I was sure it filled up all the way,” you murmur. You try to recall when you all last stopped at a gas station, and how your friends delegated you to fill up the car while they went into the shop and bought snacks.
“Well it obviously didn’t, you idiot!” Your friend jerks the wheel and pulls over on the side of the desolate road. “This is why we never like to go anywhere with you.” 
You bite your lip, holding back tears. It wasn’t your fault that you were so forgetful sometimes, always getting distracted and lost in your thoughts.
This was supposed to be a fun road trip with your three closest friends, celebrating your college graduation nearing. But after a car karaoke session that went on for too long made you guys miss an exit, you’d been stranded on empty roads with nothing but trees surrounding you for quite a few miles now.
Your friend sitting in the backseat with you turns to face you, her arms crossed against her chest. “You should be the one to go find a gas station,” she protests. “It’s your fault we got stuck out here anyway.”
Your two friends in the front row look back at you and then at each other before nodding in agreement.
You crane your neck to look at the journey that would be ahead of you. It looked as though it continued to stretch for miles and miles with no end in sight, only the empty road and dying trees.
“By myself?” you ask hesitantly.
All three nod in unison.
You huff in defeat, unbuckling your seatbelt and stepping out of the vehicle.
“I’ll try to be back—”
They slam the door in your face before you can answer.
“—Soon,” you finish before sighing and starting the long walk, hoping to find some destination before it got too dark.
~
Bo was not expecting to see a pretty little thing like you around Ambrose when it was nearing dusk, especially all alone. You had your arms wrapped around your bare midsection, and even from his spot inside the gas station he could see that you were shivering from the cool air as the sun set. You were looking around frantically, and he could tell immediately that you were lost and looking for help.
He smirks. Oh, he’d help you, alright. Bo took that as his cue to reveal himself to you. He wipes his hands with a dirty rag and tosses it aside, exiting the station.
You hear the ringing of the bell as Bo opens the door, and you turn your head towards the source of the sound. You scurry on over, seeing Bo in his mechanic’s uniform.
“Sir! Hi!” you start, fumbling over your words. “You work here, right? Do you have some gas? My car—well, it’s my friend’s—but it’s, like, miles back there and we ran out.” 
Your eyes then shift to the side and he could tell you were embarrassed. “It’s kind of my fault.”
Hmm. Sir. He liked hearing that come from your pouty lips.
Bo gives you a toothy grin. “Don’t gotta worry your head ‘bout it, sweetheart. I’ll get ya all settled. Come with me.” He slides his hand across your lower back, just barely grazing your ass. You gasp under your breath at the feeling, and Bo can’t help it when his cock stirs at the sound.
As you walk into the gas station, Bo scans you up and down. He notices that you have nothing on your person but your clothes, and even then it’s just little scraps of a skimpy top and skirt—which means you must’ve forgotten a wallet, too. His grin widens even more.
Reaching behind him without you noticing, he cranks the thermostat down. The air gets cooler within seconds, and Bo revels in seeing your nipples harden as they poke through your top.
He goes to find a can of gas, rolling up his sleeves as he plucks it from a top shelf. He notices when you gulp and stare at his muscles as he flexes them subtly.
You were such a cute little doll. He was going to have fun with you.
He plops the can on the counter. You go to reach for it, but he holds a hand out. “Ten bucks, little lady.”
Your eyes bulge almost comically and it takes all of Bo’s strength not to laugh at your expression.
“Wow, that’s a lot more than I thought it would be,” you say nervously, shifting on the balls of your feet.
Bo exaggerates a sigh. “Times are tough out here, owning a small business like this. We don’t get many customers out here.” He opens his hands to motion to you the desolate town of Ambrose.
You completely buy into his bullshit excuse, nodding your head in complete understanding. “Oh my god, that sucks, like, a lot.” Patting down your lame excuse for a shirt, you look up at Bo with wide eyes, jaw dropped in surprise. “I forgot to bring my wallet!”
You were such a dumb little thing. What were your sorry excuses of friends thinking, sending you off all alone?
“I’m so sorry, sir!” You clasp your hands in front of you in a pleading manner, looking up at him with big, watery eyes. Bo holds back a groan. Jesus, those eyes could make a man cream his pants if he wasn’t too careful. “Please, is there anything I can do to pay you back? I’ll do anything!”
Bo pretends as if he’s thinking long and hard. Oh, he knew exactly what you were going to do as payment.
“You know, I get lonely sometimes,” Bo starts, a mock frown on his face. “A cute lady like you could really help a man like me out.” He shuffles up to you, and palms your ass under that sorry excuse for a skirt.
“Oh!” You gasp, grabbing onto his arm. “That’s really sad, sir.” You look lost in thought for a moment before continuing. “I don’t know if I can do that for you though.” You bite your lip, looking unsure of yourself.
“Aw, you gotta be kidding,” Bo clicks his tongue, rubbing his hand around the plumpness of your behind. “I bet you’ve helped lotsa guys out, huh?”
“A-actually,” you look down in shame. “I’m a—” you lower your voice to barely over a whisper, “—virgin.”
Bo blinks. That wasn’t a response he was expecting from you. So the slutty clothes were just for show, was it?
“Oh really?”
You nod, blatant regret all over your face. “I don’t think it’ll be good for you, ya’know, since I haven’t really had any practice and all that.”
He puts a smile back on, laughing gleefully and patting you on the shoulder, rubbing a thumb between the groove of your collarbone. “Well, that’s no problem for me, sweetheart. I can teach ya!”
Your eyes lighten up. “You can?”
“Sure I can!” He starts to undo his belt, throwing it aside on the counter. “Just need you to get on your knees for me and I can show you what to do.”
His cock jumps in anticipation, looking forward to seeing your juicy, plump lips wrapped around—
“Wait a minute!” you cry out, interrupting his fantasies.
Bo pauses in his movements, his jaw ticking at your interruption. “Yes?” he askes, concealing his frustration.
“What’s your name? I don’t wanna do this without knowing it.”
He sighs and points to the nametag on his jacket. “I’m Bo.”
You slap a palm across your forehead and nervously giggle. “Oh jeez, I should’ve known to look first!”
“That’s okay, sweetheart,” Bo mutters through his teeth impatiently. “Now lemme help you out, alright?” “Oh! Yeah, sorry!” You—finally—drop to your knees in front of him. “What do I need to do?”
The sight of you in front of him like that, so eager and pliant, had his cock jumping in his pants.
Bo lowers his jeans and boxers, his hard cock now revealed to you. He wraps a hand around the base stroking his full length as it puts it on display for you.
“That’s…big,” you murmur. You look up at him, concern plastered across your features. “I dunno if it’s gonna fit.” Your eyebrows crease together and those damn pouty lips of yours come out again.
Bo bites his cheek to conceal his smirk. This was gonna be a lot more fun than he thought. “I told you, that’s what I’m helping you with, ain’t I?”
You nod.
“Great. Now open those pretty lips up for me.”
You open your mouth as wide as you can, giving Bo a perfect hole to stick his cock into. He guides himself inside you, hissing as the warmth of your mouth envelops his length.
“Good girl,” he praises. He begins to thrust his hips slowly, your lips latching onto him as he does so. “You gotta let me move, sweetheart.”
“Sorry,” you mumble around him, and he groans at the vibrations that travel up his cock.
Your lips loosen and you start to suck on his cock, the suction of your lips making shivers of pleasure run down his spine. He grips the back of your head, controlling the pace of his thrusts.
“Fuck, look at you,” Bo hisses. You look so pretty and innocent with his cock stuffed down your throat, gags escaping your lips. “You’re a natural. Sure you haven’t done this before?”
“I told you—!”
Bo slaps your cheek, shushing you. “Stop talking.”
You nod obediently, the action making him pulse inside of your mouth. His grip on your hair tightens as his thrusts become harder, more primal. He fucks your mouth with vigor, ignoring your gags and the way your nails dig into the skin of his thighs.
He cums faster than he’s ever had before, groaning as his hot release coats the back of your throat. You cough around his cock, spurts of liquid splashing against your cheeks.
“Swallow it,” Bo commands.
You gulp harshly, your lips still secured around his cock. The extra pressure has him bucking his hips and like a good girl you swallow all of his cum. He pulls his cock out of your mouth, and you begin to cough and sputter as you regain your breath.
“Is that it?” you question him.
“Baby, I still gotta get rid of that virginity of yours.”
“Oh.” You giggle behind your hand. “Right.” You start to strip, only taking a couple of seconds since you’re practically naked already. “What do I do now?”
Bo’s cock hardens back to life at your nude form in front of him. Your nipples are hard, attached to your perky breasts that bounce up and down right in front of his eyes. He stares lecherously, licking his lips. “Now that you got my cock all wet,” Bo rubs his length, now slick with his cum and your saliva, “I can stick it in your pussy.” You bite the inside of your cheek and nod, your eyes flicking between his face and his cock. “I know I asked before,” you begin, and Bo moves to place your hand over his cock, “but will it really fit?”
Lord, he was really starting to understand why your friends let you go alone.
“Yeah, I told you, I’ll make it fit.” He lifts you from the back of your legs and places you on top of the counter. He brings his thick fingers to your pussy, sticking a fingertip inside.
You gasp and arch your body into him, throwing your arms around his broad back. Your bare breasts brush up against his chest and he relishes in the contact. 
“That feels really good, Bo!” you cry out. He adds a second finger inside of you, pushing the digits in deeper. He can feel how wet you are and the way you clench around him so desperately. Your hips jerk into him unsteadily, chasing the pleasure his fingers bring you.
He chuckles. “It’ll feel even better when I stick my cock in you.”
Bo removes his fingers, basking in the way you whine as he pulls them out, leaving you pulsing and desperate to be around him. He lines his throbbing cock with your entrance and pushes himself in without hesitation.
“Bo!” You scream, nails digging into his back. Little gasps leave your mouth as he begins to thrust in and out of you. Your pussy grips him like a vice, and it’s difficult for him to move inside you with you so needy for him.
He shushes you, gripping your cheeks and watching as tears leave your eyes.
“It hurts,” you whine to him. Your nails grip onto him as if your life depended on it.
He shoves his face into the crevice of your neck, placing kisses upon it. “Gotta relax a bit for me, okay?” he coos into your ear. “Or it won’t feel good for you.”
“You promise?” you ask through glassy eyes.
He nods, and feels as you unclench just a tad around him. Bo is able to rut himself into you harder now, and he can’t help but be more forceful with his thrusts as it causes your breasts to bounce right in front of him.
“Look at that.” He motions towards where the two of you are connected, his cock pulsing at the way your blood and juices coat the base. “Look at how we're connected now.”
Oh wow,” you gasp in awe. “That’s kinda romantic, huh?”
Bo doesn’t respond. If you wanted to put it that way, he wouldn’t stop you. He ignores the way his heart stutters in his chest.
His hips continue to pound into you, your body bouncing along with the power of his thrusts. The whines that come out of your mouth sound so angelic, and Bo has to fight the urge to kiss you.
“I—I think I’m gonna cum,” you moan out, your head thrown back and your eyes are scrunched up in pleasure.
Bo didn’t need you to tell him that. Your pussy goes back to clenching down on him, your walls tightening around his cock, fitting themselves to the shape of him. He curses quietly into your neck. He never wanted to leave the warmth of your pussy.
“That’s it, baby,” Bo coaxes you. He moves a finger to your clit, enjoying the way you jolt at the newfound sensation as he rubs circles on the bead. “Cum around my cock.”
“Cumming!” Your voice is squeaky as your legs come up to wrap around his backside, and you finally reach your peak. Your pussy tightens around Bo even more, and he can’t help it when he cums for a second time as you squeeze every last drop out of him.
You pant heavily as you come down from your orgasm, sweat rolling down your temples despite the cold air of the station that surrounds the two of you.
Bo’s own breathing is heavy, something he’s not used to much. You squirm out from beneath him as you drop from the counter, legs still shaking from the aftermath of your orgasm. You bend down to gather your scraps of clothing, and Bo has to take all of his strength to conceal his groan as he watches his cum slowly leak out of your pussy.
“Leaving so soon?” Bo didn’t know what compelled him to say that. You were just some cute college kid passing through that was a chance to get his dick wet. Yet there was something about you that drew him to you, like a moth to a flame.
You shimmy back into your clothing, and he notices how you ignore the trail of his cum that runs down your thigh. “My friends’ll be mad at me if I take too long getting back.” You pause in your movements. “I can take the gas now, right?”
Bo’s heart drops in his stomach. He realizes quickly that no, he wasn’t going to let you take the gas. In fact, he wasn’t going to let you leave at all. He wanted you—needed you—here with him. He couldn’t let a pretty little thing like you just pass by him like that.
He glances outside quickly. The sky's already turned to a pitch black hue, and he knows there’s no streetlights on your way back to where your friends wait for you. He turns back to you as you stand awaiting his answer.
“It’s pretty dark out there, little lady.” You peek over his shoulder, and your eyes widen as you realize just how late it had gotten. “It ain’t safe for you ta’ be out walkin’ all alone. Why don’t you stay over at my place for the night?”
“B-but what about my friends?” A pout overtakes your face and you look up at Bo with puzzled eyes.
Bo smirks, holding you close to his chest and running a hand over your hair. “Don’t need ta’ worry about them, sweetheart. My brother’ll come an’ fetch ‘em.”
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Sequel to Good People - The fic in wherein Wayne doesn't like Steve and overheard a conversation he shouldn't have. Here's the aftermath of that :3
Part One🦇Part Two🦇Final Part
-
Wayne had stayed in his bedroom long after he heard the boys leave. Eddie had knocked on his door to let him know he'd be staying at Steve's and to not expect him back until late tomorrow, a courtesy he'd never shown until after he'd been the victim of a manhunt back in spring. Wayne never asked him to do that but he thinks Eddie picked up on how worried Wayne would get if he were gone for any amount of time.
Eddie's always been good at reading people when he bothers to pay attention to them. Maybe that should have been enough reason for him to give pause to his dislike of the Harrington boy, instead of needing to overhear the boy crying about how he thinks there's something rotten deep within him that only Wayne can sense.
He'd been so sure he knew what kind of person Steve Harrington was. Eddie had been hung up on boys just like him pert-near his whole life, Wayne thinks, and it's never ended differently.
It's a Tuesday night and his friends usually gather at the bar on Friday nights, but Wayne needs to get out of the trailer to think. A beer might help. So, he grabs his keys and heads out.
He's been a regular at this bar since before he was even old enough to drink. Used to come with his pa, may he rest in peace, just to get out of the house. He's been a patron longer than any of the staff have worked there, he realizes.
"Hello Linda," Wayne greets as he takes a seat at the bar instead of at his usual table. He'd done a cursory glace when he came in and confirmed none of his drinking buddies were in before choosing the bar.
"This isn't your usual day," Linda says, leaning a hip on the counter, "but it's always a pleasure to see you."
"I got some thinkin' to do," Wayne replies and Linda nods and moves away, returning soon with a bottle of his usual beer. She picks up the bottle open and removes the cap before setting the drink down in front of him.
"Need a sounding board, hun?" She asks.
Wayne does a quick survey of the bar again but it's pretty quiet so he returns his gave to Linda and says, "if you wouldn't mind too much hearin' about how an old man might have messed up."
Linda laughs. "You aren't even half a decade older than me, so you best not be sprouting that 'old man' nonsense around me, 'cause I am not some old lady."
"Terribly sorry, Linda. I'm just really feelin' like an old fool."
A small frown comes to Linda's face then. "Now what could you have possibly done?"
"Well, I guess I'm tryin' to figure out if I did mess up. Eddie's got a friend and I don't trust 'im. Thought I had good reason not to, but, well, I overheard somethin' I wasn't supposed ta and now I'm not sure."
Linda hums, "hmm, that doesn't sound like you, judging someone unrightly. You are usually a good read about people."
"I'll admit, I haven't bothered to spend enough time with the boy to, uhh, judge him."
"Wayne Munson," Linda scolds, "you best not be telling me you judged that boy because of other people."
Judging by Linda's raising brow line, he thinks his guilt must be clear on his face. "You know Eddie, and how people have treated him. And with what he just went through- I just want 'im safe. Sure, his new friend graduated last year, but he was on the basketball team his whole career. And I'm jus' supposed ta believe this one boy didn't side with the group who started the manhunt?"
"Unless you've got evidence otherwise, yes," Linda says, brows furrowed.
Wayne sighs. "I ain't got proof. I got a lot of people sayin' he's good, actually. But it's the Harrington boy. The same boy Eddie would come home and complain 'bout. Harrington, Hagan, Hargrove, though I shouldn't speak ill of the dead. All them boys treatin' Eddie like he wasn't worth nothin' until they wanted somethin' form him."
Linda's mouth is almost a perfectly straight line with how much she's pursed her lips the more he talks, but she doesn't interrupt and no customer calls for her, so he continues.
"And you know what Richard Harrington was like. I know y'all only shared one school year together, but Janice wasn't any better, and she was your year, wasn't she?" Linda gives him one nod in response. "That boy's a product of them. I- You can't fault me for thinkin' differently."
"So, when do you expect Eddie to end up in prison?"
The question throws Wayne and fills him with anger at the same time. "Now, Linda, I ain't likin' what you are implyin'."
"I ain't implyin' nothing," she says, using the same tone with him that he did with her. "I'm applying your logic. Eddie's a product of his parents, ain't he? Al's in prison, and his mama's long gone, bless her soul. And since Eddie ain't sick, last I heard, he must be following after his daddy."
The anger leaves him then, and all he's left with is shame. "Point made. And if I'm bein' fully honest with ya, I don't even need ya to defend that boy. That thing I overheard. That what's eatin' at me. He called me good people."
Linda softens, shoulders dropping, "you are good people, hun."
"That boy told my Eddie that I'm 'good people', and that his parents are bad ones, and I. I don't know what to do about that."
"He thinks his own parents are bad?"
Wayne nods, "is what he said. Thinks I can somehow sense he's also rotten just by association."
"There's nothing to it, then," Linda says, like they've already talked out the tangled mess that is Wayne's thoughts on Steve Harrington and have reached a conclusion. Well, perhaps Linda already has. She's always been bright, and she's usually right. "You, Wayne Robert Munson, need to apologize to that boy. The guilt and shame's gonna put you into your cups otherwise."
Wayne nods slowly, though he isn't even sure if he agrees or is just acknowledging what she said before he takes a long pull from his bottle before lowering both his arms to rest on the counter as he replies, "You're right as usual, Linda my dear. I just gotta let go of the fact he's Richard Harrington's son and try and see just Steve."
"Damn right. Eddie might be Al's by birth, but you raised him and he turned out alright. Maybe Steve got the same treatment. Had his own Wayne around to raise him right."
There might be a bit of truth to that. He's heard enough talk about Steve Harrington over the years to think that. One of his drinking buddies used to be Jim Hopper. He's heard about the amount of parties he'd had to go shut down at the Harrington's house, with no parents to be seen. (Always Jim's biggest gripe back then. "Where's this kids goddamn parents!?) Wayne always assumed their kid just took advantage every time his parents were gone, but maybe it's the opposite. Maybe they were always gone, and Steve had parties to not be alone in his house.
Linda's right. There is nothing to it. He needs to talk to Steve, properly apologize, and go from there.
"It ain't an easy thing, admittin' you might be wrong," Wayne sighs.
Linda reaches across the counter and places a hand on Wayne's arm just below his wrist. Wayne looks up from where he'd ended up staring at his bottle, making eye contact with her. "If your boy is friends with this boy, it's for a reason. Just give him a chance. You are one of the good ones, but even we can have a lapse in judgment now and then. Doesn't make you bad, makes you human."
"Ain't no one perfect but the good Lord," Wayne says and Linda nods in agreement.
"Alright. I'll leave you to your beer and your thoughts for now, but you best keep me updated on your situation. I wanna know how it goes," Linda retracts her hand and heads down the counter to check on the few other people sitting about nursing drinks.
Wayne sits in his thoughts more than he drinks, so by the time he's done with the beer it's warm but that's fine. He will talk to the Harrington kid, but he wants to talk to Eddie first. He owes his nephew that much, and he does recall Eddie saying something to the effect of 'he'll come around' to Steve, and Wayne wants to tell Eddie he'll try.
Also he doesn't want to just corner the boy after he's been somewhat intimidating intentionally. He's going to get Eddie to ask if Steve'll talk to him.
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True to his word, Eddie returns home late the next day. The clock says it's almost 6 when Eddie finally comes through the front door. If he's surprised to see Wayne awake, he doesn't show it. He does work the graveyard shift, and he's got a shift at 10 tonight, usually wakes up two hours before his shift. He'd wanted to make sure he caught Eddie, though, so he's been up since three.
"Eddie, you got a minute?" Wayne says.
"Sure. What's up?" Eddie says as he pulls off his jacket, depositing it on the nearest surface before plopping sideways on the couch so he's facing Wayne.
"I gotta come clean. I overheard some of what you and Steve were talkin' about," Wayne says, because he's a man of his word and he's always been good at doing the hard thing if it also turns out to be the right thing. He's got to be honest with Eddie, so he can be honest with himself. "Heard Harr- Steve talkin' 'bout how he thinks I'm a good person, and his parents aren't."
Eddie's quiet for a moment, blinking owlishly back at him while he thinks. "Oh. Umm. Sorry. I just- I think this is the first time I've heard you say Steve's name."
"Not the part I thought you'd focus on," Wayne huffs a laugh, "but I owe your boy an apology and I was hopin' you could help me make it happen."
"My boy- what is happening," Eddie drops his voice to whisper the question to himself.
"What's happening is I'm doin' the thing I always told you ta do. Taking accountability and fixin' my mistake."
"Oh. Oh!" Eddie narrows his eyes at Wayne, "you've made an ass out of me. All those times I assured Steve you were just being standoffish and you were- what were you doing?"
"Intentionally keepin' the boy at a distance 'cause I thought he was gonna hurt you. I sure as hell ain't been friendly. I been judging him because I knew his parents, thinkin' about how an apple don't fall far from the tree," Wayne stops, giving pause to see if Eddie will speak but he isn't. He's just staring at Wayne like he's a puzzle. "It was brought to my attention that it's mighty unfair to judge someone 'cause of how their parents act."
Eddie's brow furrows and his lips purse. It makes him think of Linda. She'd made the exact same face. "I- Jesus fuck this is weird, but I. I think I'm mad at you. Disappointed."
Eddie doesn't say it with an angry tone, and his face still looks more puzzled than mad, but the sentence feels like a kick to the chest anyway. Eddie and he have never been mad at each other, not in the eight years Eddie's lived here with him. They've been worried and scared for each other that, or mad at someone or something else that they take out on each other, but never mad at each other.
"You've every right to be."
Eddie stands from the couch, paces down the hallway, and Wayne thinks this might be the end of any conversation tonight, but instead Eddie comes storming back up the hall. "So, what, did you take me in expecting me to be my dad!?"
"No. He mighta contributed to your birth, but we both know that man ain't nurtured you a day in his life."
"Yeah, well, Steve's parents didn't raise him either, so all this has been bullshit! You made Steve think he's, he's broken and a bad person! And," Eddie's eyes are wet and he's angry but also about to cry. Wayne hasn't seen him like this in a long time. Not since the day they learned Al was in prison, fifteen years with a chance for parole if he's on his best behavior. Eddie had been so angry, and sad, and hurt by the news. Eddie's like that now, worked up so much he's repeating himself as he hiccups his words out around the lump in this throat, "And, and you made me help him feel that way! Because I didn't take him serious when he said, said you didn't like him! I thought you were being, being a dad, all fake gruff to intimidate the guy I like but it's- you were- FUCK!"
Wayne lets him yell. He deserves it, and Eddie needs it. Eddie's not saying anything untrue. He takes in what Eddie is yelling at him; Steve's parents didn't raise him, and how Wayne's cold shoulder must have added to whatever else Steve has going on in his life.
"I, I h-held him while he b-bawled into my shirt last night! He, he thinks- and you, you didn't even trust me! T-trust my own j-judgment of, of Steve! I, I need- I can't-" Eddie doesn't finish the sentence. He turns on his heel and storms back down the hall, the slamming of his door finalizing this conversation.
To say that Wayne feels terrible is inadequate. He's hurt his boy, and he's hurt his boy's boy, and he's got no one to blame but himself.
Now he's got two apologies to make.
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I tried to tag as many people as I could remember that expressed interest in a follow up fic. I am SO sorry if I missed you. Please let me know if you want to be tagged in the final part. I will only be tagging people who ask to be tagged going forward 'cause it's a lot of people to remember and my memory is garbage.
@i-less-than-three-you @nburkhardt @afewproblems @skepsiss @unclewaynemunson @itsthestrangestthings @emofratboy @devondespresso @finntheehumaneater @loopholesinmydreams @yourmom-isgay @wrenisflying @emsgoodthinkin @messrs-weasley @madigoround @jackiemonroe5512 @gutterflower77 @zerokrox-blog @eriquin @samyuck @lunarmaruna @mugloversonly @kaij-basil-lionelli88
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saetoru · 1 year
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✩ ‧₊˚ ✩。NUMBER — SHIDOU RYUSEI.
✩ — contents ⋮ barista! reader, fluff, very annoying yet very sweet boyfriend shidou agenda <3 he’s so romantic in the most vein popping way <3
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shidou loves to bother you at work, it must be his favorite pastime, you think—except now it’s starting to get everyone else at work invested too.
“oh. my. gosh,” you coworker whispers, swatting your arm excitedly, “there’s a guy asking for you—says you made his drink last time.”
“i make a lot of guys drinks,” you shrug.
“yeah but not for guys this cute,” she huffs, “i’m jealous. this is your chance, so don’t ruin it! maybe he’s good in bed too,” she wriggles her brows at you, making you scowl as you roll your eyes.
and then you see it—that mop of blonde hair with those pink ends, and you sigh in exasperation as you walk up to the register.
of course, it’s him.
“hello sir, what can i get for you?” you say monotonously.
“hmm,” shidou grins, tapping his chin as if he’s deeply in thought, “i was just thinking i’d get a drink from a pretty little barista. maybe even a number.”
from the distance, you can see your coworkers stop whatever they’re doing to stare—it’s not like it’s every day that someone this attractive comes in to flirt with a fellow employee. you can just about make out the jealousy in some of their faces and amusement in the others. one thing they all have in common, however, is awe—which you’re not too shocked at, shidou’s admittedly a handsome guy….if you look past how obnoxious he can be, that is.
“what drink would you like?”
“any is fine with me as long as i can get your number as an add on,” he grins, and it’s a wicked grin, really. it’s wide and smug and almost makes him look psychotic. you purse your lips as you shake your head, and distantly, you can hear your earlier coworker groan at your lack of enthusiasm for what you’re sure she’ll later go on to describe as the luckiest experience you’ll ever get.
“that’s not an option we carry here,” you squint, “you must be getting our menu confused for another coffee shop. maybe you should look somewhere else.”
“i don’t know,” he smirks, “i don’t think i’d confuse a pretty face like yours so easily.”
if anyone were to tell you, they’d say shidou ryusei is insufferable. you come to learn this is very true with every possible encounter you have with him, including this one. but there’s something a bit endearing about him, something that’s…dare you say, adorable, despite the way his words are sometimes crass and far from proper. and if the way he’s so persistent for your attention is of any proof, you’d say he’s a pretty determined guy—but you like to see how long you can keep him on his toes.
“i’m sure you say that to all the pretty faces you come across,” you say sarcastically, eyeing him as his smile widens and his eyes glint with amusement.
“nope,” he pops the p as he speaks, “you’re the only one. why, you jealous?”
“you wish,” you snort. “and i can’t give you my number, actually,” you say—and this time, it’s you with a smug grin, catching the eyes of your coworkers as they tilt their heads in confusion, “i have a boyfriend. so i’m afraid it’s simply not possible.”
“oh?” shidou drawls with a raise of his brow, “i bet he’s a loser. bet i could take him in a fight easily. if i win against him, you gotta let me move in with you—how ‘bout that?”
“he is a bit of a loser,” you grin, and anyone could make out the fondness seeping into your voice as your eyes soften at the idea of whoever’s got your heart. “but he’s my loser, so i’m afraid the answers still no.”
“sounds like you love him,” he presses, eyeing you expectantly.
“i don’t know about that one,” you giggle, “he’s still got to prove himself a bit more.”
“that’s harsh,” he hums, “maybe if you gave me your number, i’d prove to be better.”
“sorry, no can do—”
“just give him your number, already!” your coworker cuts you off and huffs, stomping her way over to where you stand. shidou’s got a cheshire grin on his face, eyeing her with that same look of amusement that makes you pinch your nose as you sigh. “you and i both know good and well you don’t have a boyfriend so do yourself a favor and just—”
“and how can you be so sure there’s no boyfriend?” shidou raises his brow.
you try, you really do—but you can’t help but finally crack. it’s a small giggle at first, and then it’s a fit of laughter that makes his eyes soften and his lips quirk into a lopsided beam that’s nothing short of lovesick.
“if you do seem to think there’s a boyfriend in the equation, why pursue someone then?” you coworker raises a brow, arms crossed as she challenges him, “that makes you a jackass, don’t you think?”
“easy,” shidou cackles, leaning in and pressing one, two, three soft pecks to your lips, making everyone gasp as you roll your eyes affectionately, “i’m the boyfriend. sometimes i like to keep the romance alive and fight myself every once in a while.”
“wha—” she’s left speechless, staring at him as she tries to comprehend what he’s just said with her mouth hung. shidou only mocks her opened mouth, and you reach over and swat his shoulder, making him snicker.
“that’s enough, ryu,” you warn—though you don’t sound all that serious. “i’ll be off in ten. are you gonna order anything or just stand there?”
“aw, c’mon baby. ‘course i am,” he pulls out his card, handing it to you, “i’ll take your favorite. you keep it though,” he winks.
“god you’re so annoying,” you mumble, but still, you don’t pull away when he leans for another peck on the lips, even as your coworkers chant a chorus of get a room from the back.
“see you in ten, baby,” he calls over his shoulder, walking off to find himself a seat as he waits for you.
yeah, you think, your coworkers are really going to be invested in this one.
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he’s like…so very sweet and in love but in a very annoying and odd way. like he’d vandalize a building to spray paint your initials together in a heart or something
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jyoongim · 17 days
Note
This is more of an idea (feel free to not respond btw)
But what if married reader gets knocked up with Alastors fawn and the husband divorced her once he realizes the baby isn’t his? You can bet your ass that the deer daddy is already trying to ensnare the reader in his grasp lol
Hehehe i have never written a Part 2 so fast !
Part 1
————————————————————————
“Oh my Satan dear! Look at you! Ya look like you’re bout to pop!” Rosie exclaimed when you walked in her shop.
’Pop’ was an understatement.
You were very near the end of your pregnancy and it had not been kind to you.
You never told your husband about the incident with Alastor.
Would he had even believed you?
Alastor was A LOT of things, but the two of you were friends…your husband would think call you insane….
Your eyes widened seeing the very cause of your discomfort.
Alastor.
You wanted to dash out the door, run back home and hide.
The red Overlord turned around, hearing Rosie’s voice, you froze seeing his eyes look you over, you instinctively placed a hand over your stomach when his lips stretched into a smile.
You heard Rosie excuse herself to go get some appetizers but you were too focused to acknowledge her.
You were alone.
With him.
You took a shaky breath as memories from several months ago flashed across your mind, but you shook your head lightly to discard those thoughts.
”My my look at you” he purred approaching until he towered over you, beaming like a Cheshire cat “You really do make a fine mother” his large hand caressed the swell of your belly, smile softening when he felt movement.
”j-just leave me be please” you whispered, wincing when he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into his chest.
Alastor chuckled ”leave you be? Oh ma cherie no can do!” 
He bent his head, his lips grazing the shell of your ear, voice dropping to a whisper “especially since you’re about to give birth to my baby?”
You pushed him away, putting distance between the two of you. Your face was flushed, eyes narrowed “I am NOT having your baby! I am having my husband’s baby!” You defended.
But there was a sliver of doubt you always felt when it came to the little soul nestled within you.
Alastor’s smile never wavered “Hmm you sure? Because i remember vividly filling your cunt with my seed until it dripped down your legs” 
You froze.
”You took me so well I was positive you would be pregnant”
He took small steps towards you
”Did you tell your husband?” 
Your snarl fell at his words and he knew he had you.
”T-there’s n-nothing to tell” you said turning around, ready to leave. 
You didnt have to take this.
He hummed coming up behind you. “Nothing to tell?” He chuckled darkly as his lanky arms wrapped around you, cradling your swollen belly. He leaned his head on top of yours.
”Oooh darlin I’m hurt! You didnt tell your loving husband how you milked my cock? How I tasted the cunt that belonged to him? How I claimed you for myself? That I sent you home filled with my cum?”
You were shaking.
”How unfaithful you were? Could the poor man tell another man’s cum was inside you while he fucked you?”
He kissed your neck
”I can’t wait to meet our little fawn”
Your baby kicked causing him to smile.
————————————————————————-
Pain.
Thats all you felt as you tried to breath through your contraction.
”You got this honey! You’re doing great” your husband soothed as you wailed.
”One more push maam the baby’s almost here” the nurse reassured you.
Almost? It felt like you been pushing forever
”I cant” you panted.
Everything burned.
Your husband dabbed at your sweaty forehead, pressing a kiss to it “You got this baby. C’mon just one more push and then it’ll all be over”
Your eyes clenched and with a scream you pushed.
”Aaahh!”
Relief and then the shrill cry of a baby.
The nurses cooed “Ooh a healthy boy!”
she cleaned up the baby and you sighed as you slumped against the bed.
Finally.
”Ok mama” you felt a small weight on your chest.
Soft noises had you look down and you felt your heart break and bloom.
Red tufts of hair curled on the babe’s head and he looked at you with big red eyes.
He looked like you; round cheeks and a cute nose.
He looked nothing like your husband.
And every bit like…
”what the fuck” you heard your husband say. You turned to him, eyes wide.
He was staring at the baby.
”I-Its n-not what you think dear j-just let me-”
”You fucked Alastor” he was frowning, standing up from the bed.
You shook your head, tears swelling
”N-no that’s…I didnt i swear”
”I am looking at his exact copy. The damn brat looks nothing like me!”
You couldnt move “Honey p-please”
The man backed away. He was angry.
The baby began to cry, you tried to rock the poor soul, but your attention was on your husband
”Honey-”
”I should have known” he hissed lowly, pacing.
”I should have known by the way he acted. How you flirted with each other! The fucking radio demon!? Tsk!”
He turned to look at you.
”I dont want some bitch who takes me for a fool. Hope it was worth it you fucking slut” he turned to walk out.
tears ran down your face, your heart was racing “W-What? Honey no it wasn’t like that..it-it was never-”
”I want a divorce. You are dead to me”
and like that he was gone.
You sat there stunned.
Your husband just…left.
He left you and he didn’t even let you explain, tell him how or why all this was happening.
The baby cooed and you looked down at him.
You wanted to be angry, you had every right to be, but looking at this sweet soul…he didnt deserve your anger.
You were a mother now. You would do your best to love your child.
Even if you had to do it alone.
————————————————————————————-
“What a fine mother you make indeed my dear”
He smiled watching the little fawn latch to your chest and stare back at him with vermillion eyes.
You hissed at him, earning a quirked brow “haven’t you done enough?”
Soft static buzzed through the air as the Overlord approached you. You took a step back, as he extended a hand to the babe and rubbed his chubby cheek.
Alastor ignored your question ”How are you feeling love?” He asked as the baby nuzzled into your neck.
How were you feeling?
You were divorced, a single mother, and living with Rosie.
Shunned.
All because of him.
”Like hell but I know you’re not here to ask about my well being”
Alastor ignored your jab.
”I do care for you darlin and its only right that I provide for you and our fawn”
You went to growl, threaten him to die, but your baby reached out to the red demon.
Alastor’s face light up and he grabbed the fawn, cooing and tickling the baby.
Your son squealed and giggled, trying to grab at his claws.
”Let’s make a deal dearest”
You straightened at his words. A deal with Alastor was dangerous.
But you were at rock bottom.
”What kind of deal?” You asked cautiously.
”Marry me. Marry me and you’ll have nothing to be worried about. You’ll be protected, cared for, and have anything you desire.”
The baby was gumming at his collar.
”Be mine”
You bit your lip. What did you have to loose?
You sighed, taking your son.
You looked at the tall demon, green magic swirling around him.
”Do we have a deal?” he extend his hand.
You looked at your baby and then back at Alastor.
”I hate you” you said taking his hand,
You winced as your hand burned and watched a gold ring appear on your finger.
Radio static buzzed and then a soft humming. Alastor purred, smiling, fixing his jacket.
“Oh my dear” His arm looped around your waist, bringing you close to him as he chuckled “Such a good girl”
“Now! I think I have the perfect place for us to raise our fawn”
—————————————————————————————
“Uggghh Al you got a little something…” Charlie said nervously as she watch Alastor sip his coffee.
The little red fawn was hanging on his antlers, happily gnawing at the appendages. Alastor looked up, smiling “Oh he’s fine”
”Alastor have you seen…” your voice floated into his ears as you entered the lobby, stopping when you saw your son among his father’s antlers.
Alastor let out a grunt as the baby pulled at his ears “Hes right here dear”
Your baby babbled as you approached, squealing when you plucked him from his father.
You scowled the Overlord, placing the baby on your hip.
”How many times have I told you not to just let him hang-”
”da-”
You froze.
“Da…da” your son babbled, squirming in your arms.
Charlie cooed and Alastor smirked as the fawn’s eyes welled with tears as he reached for his father. Alastor walked towards you, scooping the baby from you.
You pouted as the baby happily chirped, nuzzling in his father’s neck.
Alastor sneaked a soft kiss to your lips 
“See he’s fine”
You sighed, rolling your eyes, arms crossing.
”Oh smile my dear. Maybe the next one will say mama first” he laughed, eyes settling on your round belly.
”After all you’re a great mother”
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toxicanonymity · 2 months
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3.6k, Joel x virgin f!reader x Uncle Tommy SUMMARY: You lose your virginity to Joel with Tommy’s emotional and physical support and his horny, reassuring presence.  WARNINGS: I8+ ONE SHOT PWP, mild dubcon (coaxing) virginity loss, very soft, unsafe piv, creampie, dirty talk, light degradation, self-pleasure, daddy kink, MFM-ish but no holes for Tommy, unspecified legal age gap, innocence kink, use of she/her for vag, happy reader but not a healthy relationship w/ clear boundaries. A/N: happy valentine's day! 🖤 FIC RECS at the end.
Miller bros. sharing masterlist
Joel was out for the day, and you were taking a nap with Tommy. He was spooning you under a soft blanket on top of the bed. When you woke up, you felt it again–the hardness pressed against you, through his boxers. His massive belt buckle had been hurting you, so he took his jeans off altogether.  He took yours off while he was at it. 
When you began to stir awake, Tommy sighed as he pulled you back against him with a subtle push of his hips, which sent a rush of blood to your loins. When you fully woke up, Tommy’s hand was resting on your hip, and your panties were dripping wet. That’s supposed to be for Joel. You scooched your hips forward a little, and Tommy propped himself up with an elbow. 
“What’s wrong, beautiful?” His fingers drew light, aimless circles on your shirt, over your tummy.  
“Nothing,” you mumbled with your body tense. 
“Relax, baby,” He murmured, and dipped his head. He pressed a slow kiss onto your cheek.
You tried to relax. “Sometimes, when you get really close, I feel like I feel with Daddy”
“How’s that, baby?”
“Don’t make me say it,” you whined. 
“Nothin’ to be ashamed of.”
You sighed. “Wet. Tingly. Like I want him to get home.” 
“Mmm hmm,” Tommy nodded.
“That’s s’posed to be for him," you whispered. 
“It’s natural, baby. Don’t you worry ‘bout that.” 
He gently rested a hand on your panties. "How ya feel down here. . ." his fingers trailed up your tummy, up your sternum, between your breasts. “Got nothin’ to do with how ya feel here,” he whispered and tapped his fingers on your chest. “Just how our bodies work, sugar.” He caressed your chest, and his breath was humid on your ear. “That sweet lil pussy don’t care whose cock this is.” The stiff shape nudged your back side. “She knows it’s big, and hard, and ready for her. ‘S’all she cares about.” His hand slid up and gently cupped your breast. His crude words made you twitch.
“He’s gonna put it in soon,” you told Tommy.
“Yeah,” he whispered and rested his head, nestling your head under his chin. “Think you’re ready for it?” 
“I think so,” you answered, “but I’m nervous.” 
“'bout what, baby doll?”
“Is it gonna hurt?” 
Tommy scooted back and nudged you so your back was flat on the bed. He propped up his head, read your face, and wet his lips. “Prolly a little, yeah.” 
“What’s it gonna be like?” 
“Oh, baby. You're gonna love it. You're gonna want it all the time."
"What's the hurt gonna be like?"
Tommy hesitated, then asked, "Gave ya the tip already?” 
You nodded. 
He lightly dangled his hand over your hip so his fingertips grazed your panties. He let his fingers wander down the cotton until you opened your thighs. 
“Good girl,” he whispered with a smile as two fingers slid over your clit, making you throb. His middle finger reached the damp crotch of your panties. “Mmm, baby. You’re gonna be just fine.”  He prodded at the wettest spot and inhaled sharply as the fabric dipped into you. “Well, he’s gonna put it here again.”
His two fingers slid up, pausing to ghost your clit for a few seconds, making you whimper. “Shhh, I’ll come back for ya,” he cooed, and pressed a light kiss to your temple. Then his hand continued up your mound. “But this time,” Tommy said, “He’s gonna keep pushin’.” His fingers slowly trailed up, nudging under the hem of your worn, cotton shirt, until his middle finger dipped into your belly button. “He’s gonna be all the way up here, baby.” 
You squirmed under his light touch. “And it’s gonna hurt?” 
“Not too bad,” he reassured you. “Know why?” 
“Why.” 
“Cause ya want it real bad. Makes your pussy get real wet.” 
Your face burned. 
“She’ll burn a little. She’s gotta stretch for Daddy Joel.” 
“How much?”
“Oh, baby,” Tommy’s voice dropped, and his hard cock grazed your thigh. “She’ll stretch real good. She’s gotta.” 
"How do you know I can do it?"
"Trust me, sweet girl." You looked at him skeptically.
"Tell ya what. . .if I'm wrong, you can braid my hair, how's that?"
You silently laughed and nodded.
"Don't get too excited about my hair, now," he smiled. "Cause you're gonna take that cock real good."
Tommy slid his hand down, out from under your top, and made a loose fist. “One day, she’ll prolly fit this.” Your heart skipped a beat. No way. He looked at his fist and wet his lips, then glanced at your face and a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Whatcha think, baby?” he brought his fist down to your panties and began to graze your most sensitive place with his knuckles, taking slow, heavy breaths. His eyes were hazy with desire. His wouldn't even fit between your legs unless you were spread wide.
“Too big,” you answered with your heart rate picking up. 
“Shhh, it’s okay,” Tommy whispered. “One day. . . not yet. Daddy Joel ain’t that big. You can take him.” 
“But he’s big,” you protested. 
“Yeah, baby. He’s big. But you’ll be alright.” He uncurled his fist and laid his massive hand on your mound. “I’ll be right there with ya.” 
“You will?” you perked up. You loved Joel, wouldn't change a thing about him. No one compared to Joel -- his presence, his touch. But Tommy had a way with words, and Joel wasn't much of a talker.
“Sure, baby. We’ll be real careful. Alright?” 
“Okay,” you answered with a hint of hesitation. Tommy ghosted your clit through your panties again, then slid down and tapped the soaked fabric. “Know what this hole’s made for?” 
“What?”
He brought his lips to the shell of your ear and whispered, “Takin’ dick and pushin’ out babies." You twitched and bit your lip.  
You squirmed and throbbed.
“Want me to take care’a this?” He asked and ran two fingers up and down the wet cotton covering your seam, making you ache with need. “Mmm,” he thrust against your hip. 
You shook your head no. But feeling like you could burst, you slid your own hand down your panties. Tommy pulled his hand out of the way, watching in wonder. He adjusted himself and you moaned softly at the push of his cotton-clad arousal.
“Fuck,” he whispered as you closed your eyes. 
You felt your breast with your other hand. “Mmm,” you moaned. You squeezed your thighs together and touched yourself. It took less than a minute for your whole body to flex as you came undone, with Tommy breathing heavily and slowly rutting against your hip. You opened your eyes as you finished coming and his face was spellbound. 
“Do me a favor, baby,” he breathed. “Lemme borrow some’a that juice.” 
Your face burned, but you slid your hand down your panties compliantly, making Tommy groan. He took his stiff cock out, and your upper body heated up. He held his erection for you, and you wiped your slick on it as unsexy as you could. 
“Good girl,” he whispered. 
“I don’t wanna-”
“Don’t gotta do nothin’, baby. Don’t gotta look.” 
You closed your eyes and listened to his hand squishing around his cock under his grunts and sighs until he came with a shudder. You kept your eyes closed, but you could smell his cum and it made your mouth water.  
—----
In the following days, whenever Joel touched you, you wanted him inside. But when he fucked your thighs and you felt the heft of his cock sliding against your folds, the girth of him scared you. you remembered Tommy's fist, and somehow, that made you tingle and relax.
Joel told you he was going to make a special day for you to show you how much he loved you. He said Tommy would be there, too, and you knew that would be the day. Throughout the week, Tommy kept checking in and reassuring you, “You’re gonna take it so good, baby.” If you had any doubts, he’d say, “I’m gonna be right there,” affectionately stroking your cheek. You talked more about what to expect. "Prolly won't come the first few times. That's okay, that's normal."
-
When the day came, they woke you up with a special breakfast and a bouquet of wildflowers. Joel helped you put on a dress you didn’t have before. It was comfy, with elbow-length sleeves and a sweetheart neckline. It was a little tight on your breasts, but he and Tommy liked it that way. You could tell by the way their eyes lingered.
Tommy made dinner while Joel set the table with flowers and candles. You ate a light meal in the candlelight and took half a glass of wine. While you and Joel finished your wine, Tommy retired to the bedroom. At the table, Joel looked at you adoringly and held your hand. His eyes were soft, and his beard sparkled in the candlelight. “No one like you, baby.” He kissed your hand, your lips, and pulled you into his lap.
Tommy returned and gave Joel a nod. Joel blew out the candles.
“Ready, princess?” Joel asked. You nodded and asked to use the restroom. He took your hand and led you into the bedroom. There were candles and flowers--so much lavendar. When it filled your nostrils, you felt soothed. 
-
When you were ready, you came out from the bathroom and sat down on the bed. Joel knelt before you and kissed his way down your body before removing your dress, leaving you in your bra and panties. Tommy propped up some pillows and took off his jeans and shirt before reclining on the pillows and spreading his legs. 
“Go ‘head, baby,” Joel coaxed, caressing your thigh. “Uncle Tommy’s got ya.”  
You laid back against Tommy’s bare, barrel chest, and his skin was warm against yours. “Let’s get comfortable,” Tommy murmured and put your hands on his thighs. He lightly rubbed your arms as you laid your head back against him, your head resting in the crook of his neck. You leaned your temple against his jaw, and he kissed your head.
Joel undressed, and the bulge in his boxer briefs made your breath hitch. You pulled your eyes up to where the waistband dug into his soft tummy. He palmed himself, slowly rubbing the outline as he knelt on the bed and looked at you like he could swallow you whole. 
“So gorgeous,” Joel whispered, eyes traveling up and down your body between Tommy’s knees. Joel started at your feet. He gently massaged your calves as he laid soft kisses onto the delicate skin of your feet, then your ankles. He gently spread your legs. 
“Little more, baby,” Tommy whispered, and you spread them wider, knees up in the air. “Good girl."
Joel was on all fours between your legs. He slowly made his way up your body, leaving open-mouthed kisses up your legs until he reached your inner thighs. He sat up and palmed his growing bulge, looking at you hungrily. Joel hooked his fingers into the waistband of your panties and backed his way down the bed as he pulled them off. Tommy’s chest nudged you forward so he could unclasp your bra. You let it fall off, and Tommy put it aside. You relaxed back into him, and he kissed you on the crown of your head.
Joel returned between your legs, lowered his body, and gave your thighs some attention. He kissed them with tongue, lightly sucking, barely nibbling. He breathed through his nose, and you could see him growing hungrier as he approached your cunt. 
“Gonna make ya come first,” Tommy whispered. He held one of your hands and stroked your other arm, which had a calming effect. "It'll help ya stretch."
Joel got down on his elbows and hooked his hands under your legs to rest atop your thighs. His pinkies rested in the creases where your thighs met your hips. “Love you, baby,” Joel’s eyes sparkled as he looked up at you.
He took a few deep breaths and lowered his hips flat against the bed. You tilted your hips, and he dragged his nose up your dripping cunt, inhaling through his nose. “Oh, baby,” he breathed. He lapped at your cunt, and you moaned. He brought one hand to your entrance and rested his other hand on your lower abdomen. He slid a thick finger inside, then, after a few, slow pumps in and out, he carefully added a second digit, making you gasp softly.
You watched Joel's ass flex, his hips pressing into the mattress as he devoured your pussy, lapping up every drop. Tommy whispered in your ear, "Feelin' good, sugar? Feel her gettin' ready?" He circled your bare nipples with his light touch while Joel’s mouth stayed on your throbbing clit with his fingers inside. Joel added a third digit, and you felt so full. "Mm," you moaned, and Tommy gave a low whistle. "Look at you takin' all those fingers. Hungry, ain't she?"
Joel groaned into you as you took his three fat fingers. This time it was easier than ever. Tommy cupped your bare breasts, and Joel worked your clit with his tongue, leaving his fingers inside. Joel's massive hand on your mound held you steady when you began to squirm.
You whimpered, and Tommy said, “Let it happen, sugar.” 
Joel moaned deeper, louder into the apex of your folds, and his hips dug deeper into the mattress. 
“Squeeze his fingers,” Tommy urged you. 
You closed your eyes, took a deep breath, and let the climax seize you. You whimpered, "daddy," and clenched around Joel’s fingers. As your orgasm waned, Tommy slid his hands off your breasts to lightly rub your arms again.  
When your eyes fluttered open, Joel cupped your cheek, his beard shiny with your slick. “That was good, baby." He kissed you deeply, and you tasted yourself. When your lips broke apart, he whispered, “you’re gonna do so good." He kissed down your cheek, to your chin, then your neck. He dragged his lips down your chest to your breasts. He swirled his tongue around your nipple, then sucked, humming “Mmm,” as it further sharpened under his tongue. He did the same with the other nipple, then kissed you on the mouth again. He leaned his forehead against yours for a moment, then pulled back and asked, “You ready, baby?” 
You nodded. Joel pulled down his boxer briefs, and his cock sprang free, stiff and commanding. "Look at that," Tommy whispered, his lips brushing the top of your ear. "She's gonna swallow it up, baby."
Even with Joel's boxer briefs off, a slight indentation remained where they were, just below the tanner, pudgier skin of his lower tummy. He idly ran his fingers through the trail of hair below his belly button. Then he lined himself up.
"Gonna be just fine," Tommy reassured you. Your heart was racing as Joel's leaking tip grazed your wet, needy hole. You flinched and Joel pulled back, making his cock spring up. He leaned over you and kissed you one more time. You reached for his chest and smoothed his chest hair. “Love you so much,” he whispered. "You okay?" You nodded.
Joel’s hand returned to his stiff, veiny cock. The swollen tip dragged against your clit as he brought it down to your tight, wet hole and notched it just inside. Tommy was getting hard against your back, and you had hardly noticed until it twitched at the sight of Joel ready for entry. 
Joel pushed slightly forward. The stretch was already starting, with just the tip. You took a deep breath and held onto Tommy’s knees, petting his soft leg hair with your thumbs. Your breaths became shallow as Joel began to slowly push into you.  
“Breathe, baby,” Tommy reminded you. You breathed in the lavender and felt yourself relax.  "Yeah." Tommy shifted under you, and his erection pressed harder against your back.
“Good girl,” Joel murmured and looked you in the eyes. 
“Daddy,” you whispered.
“Yeah, babydoll.” 
“I love you.” 
“Love you too, baby.” 
With less than two inches inside, Joel's chest was heaving like he was holding back. 
He moved his hips slightly forward. It burned, and your eyes burned a little. You pinched Tommy's knee hair and he flinched. You remembered to blink.
"Shhh, it's okay, baby. The burn ain't forever," Tommy reminded you. "She needs a second," he told Joel.
Joel paused for your body to catch up, until the burn began to fade. You relaxed against Tommy again.
“You good?” Tommy whispered in your ear. You nodded. "Look at her stretchin' 'round daddy's fat cock." You kicked your lips and braced for more. "Loves it, don't she?" Tommy whispered. "That pussy looooves cock."
Joel pushed a smidgen further, and you felt his girth dividing your soft, wet walls as he went deeper.
“She’s doin’ so good,” Tommy gushed.
“Mmmm,” you sighed as Joel pushed further, splitting you apart. The stretch burned again, and you flinched.  
Joel paused, and you nodded, “It’s okay.” Tommy brought his hand between his body and yours, and when you were flush against him again, Tommy's warm, naked cock was pressed against your back. 
Joel pushed forward again. He was biting his lip, and his face was getting red as he inched into you. 
“Almost there,” Joel breathed. “Takin’ it so good, baby.” 
Knowing you were good at taking his cock made you beam with pride.
“You gonna take all of me, baby?" Joel looked down at your stomach and muttered, "Oh, God."
"I can do it," you nodded.
“I think you’re gonna do it," Joel nodded back. He made one final push, taking up all the space you had, then his body was flush with yours. “Oh, ffuu--Oh, God." Joel pinched his eyes shut. "Ohhh,” he moaned with his cock fully sheathed in your tight little hole. Your walls twitched and you felt your core getting even wetter as it settled around his girth.
"Baby, you feel--ohh, so good, baby-" It looked like Joel was shaking with pleasure. A sweat had broken out on his brow.
"Both gotta breathe," Tommy reminded you.
Joel took a deep breath, then dipped his head to kiss you. Tommy was rock hard against your lower back. 
“I love you inside me,” you whispered.
"Most beautiful place I ever been," Joel said.
Tommy stroked your arms, and you lifted a hand to tangle your fingers in Joel’s hair. Joel kissed your neck, then began to rock into you. Tommy’s hips subtly lifted in rhythm, grinding against your back. His breaths became heavy. 
Joel's face bore a look you'd never seen. “Oh, God, you feel good, baby–Ohh–so good.” Joel rocked in short pulses, and each passing moment, you felt a little more relaxed. His cock was huge inside you. It felt even bigger than you thought it could be.
“So wet for me,” Joel breathed. “Such a good girl.” He kissed you again, his lips pulling on yours. His cock stayed inside, gently rocking, keeping you full. Your insides felt snug around him.
“Fu—oh, baby–oh, shit,” Joel panted, agony spreading across his face. 
“You can do it,” you whispered. “I want it.” 
Joel nodded. “Ok, baby.” He let his hips rock a little faster, short little pushes, all the way inside. Then he took a deep breath and so did you. Tommy held onto your sides. 
“Ohh God, baby. Ohh–Unnggghhh,” Joel began to pulse inside, filling you with warmth. 
You moaned and sighed, and Tommy rutted against your lower back. 
As Joel finished emptying himself, he gave you one last kiss, long, deep, and slow, moaning into your mouth as the last of his seed topped off the rest. 
Joel was panting, and so were you. Tommy’s hips stilled against your back.
"I'm gonna pull out now, okay? Gonna make sure you're alright," Joel said. As Joel pulled out, Tommy reached between you to adjust himself, tucking his massive hard-on back into his boxers.
Joel's cock retreated, dragging between your walls, then it fell out with a heavy bob. You felt empty for a moment. "Good girl," Joel whispered as your body drew itself back together. He backed down the bed. You began to close your legs, not wanting to feel so empty, but Tommy said, "Keep'em open" and nudged your knees outward again.
Joel lowered his head to look at your cunt. "So pretty, baby. Just gorgeous." He spread you open with his thumbs. "Oh, baby, you did so good." He thumbed your clit and when you twitched, you felt some cum trickle out. "Oh, yeah," he whispered, and thumbed it back into you. "Wanna come again?" He began to lower his mouth.
"Mmm," you thought about it, and he paused. "Maybe later. I feel sticky."
"Ok, baby." He gave your cunt a kiss and let you close your legs.
---
Joel took you to the bathroom to get cleaned up, and he smiled to himself when you both heard Tommy moaning. Your face heated up, and Joel whispered, “Uncle Tommy’s gotta come, too.”
After cleaning you up, Joel sat down on the lid of the toilet seat, and you stood between his knees. He helped you onto his knee. Your gaze went down his body, over his strong chest and its salt and pepper hair, down his soft stomach, and the other hair, to his softer, but still chubby cock. Joel’s eyes sparkled as he looked at you. He kissed you again. Then Tommy groaned, and Joel broke the kiss with a chuckle.
You went to bed nestled between the two of them. 
-
-
Thank you for reading and tysm for your support 🖤
This was born when I got to thinking, what if uncle tommy was a virginity loss doula?
Same trio/AU:
Stuffing
Sweet little mess
Uncle Tommy Breeding fantasy drabble
There's a virgin section on my master list.
RECS: If you like these brothers sharing, a few of my faves include
I can be your pretty girl part 4 and part 5 (but the whole series) by @walkintotheriveranddisappear
Liquid Gold and its prequel Two Hands to Hold by @gasolinerainbowpuddles MY ROMAN EMPIRE
Smack my b*tch up a raider AU by @milla-frenchy.
To freeze or thaw, a raider AU by joelscruff.
Bad Blood, Step Uncle Joel and Stepdad Tommy by @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog
tag list - : @silkiers @eiviea @evyiione @queerly-anxious @chernayawidow @ambassadortotrilliusprime @fandomsfallnomore @djarinxore @blackvelveteen1339 @manazo @taeslarityy @str84pedro @lokanda  @kyloispunk @filthfairy @fieryglutenfreechickennoodles @harriedandharassed @moonlightdivine @worhols @fan-fiction-floozy @cutesyscreenname   @weddingfairy @pedropascal-whore @spideysimpossiblegirl @feministfanboi @prettypartyfavor @am-3-thyst @babeincolor @switchbladedreamz @within-the-depths @may-machin @sloanexx @paleidiot @yourmistysecret @bean-is-reading @rainstorms-library
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astralnymphh · 5 months
Note
okay hear me out right… horndog!farmellie thats so incredibly horny that she cums untouched in her boxers from you kissing her neck and sucking on her nipples 🤫
ughhh the usual horndog!ellie !! always so sensitive when the tables turn n she gets pleasured ౨ৎ MDNI !! very lovey dovey
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setting the scene, night time, both of you reclined supine into the cushy nature of your bed, crafting a little gully in the mattress with your combined weight. a thin sheet wisped over the curvature of your bodies, rippling the material perfectly across your thighs– neglecting the toss so it leaves your loins and torso exposed to tottering candlelight, every groove highlighted and cast in umbrage, she looked of a delectable nature, lying flat to your raised–elbow poise. your index, soft as a plume, rides the fleshy rise of her bare breast and merry–go–rounds her bumpy nipple. she seizes up a breath, indenting the skin between her ribs lightly, mouthing, "fuck.." at the sensations. on the contrary, she'd be the one rousing every bit of your body to her relentless touch– but not tonight. in these little hours, these little, loveable hours, her flesh and bone would rather lie rot to your touch, an all–consuming caress. beryl eyes move to and fro, shimmy side to side, trailing after your encircling fingertips. then, her pupils dart, and find sightly purchase on your lips. how they curve, and flush a streak of pigment when you bite down with those pretty teeth of yours. a shared idea seems to floodlight the dark cavern of both your heads because as soon as a gasp flows down her gullet, it catches. hitched, like a mouse in a trap. your mouth hollows over her perked nipple, suctioning the flimsy nub between squeezing lips. every interval, you suck, wrinkle your lips to a pucker, and pop with a wet smack. it tasted of nothing but skin, and that wasn't an issue. the natural tang of skin was enough for you, and a lot for her. a coil begins to slink tighter and tighter, tickling the lubricous, aroused walls of her vagina. the irk a throbbing clit brings, comprised decuple the volume of sting it ordinarily would. for that sting, she clenches, like a string had attempted to flip her cunt inside out, drawing wads of frothy clear precum to dribble cold along her perineum, and far between the vale of her ass. the chopped whinnies of els' pitching suffrage all but clogged your skull, egging you on as those little noises stain your susceptible impulses, especially, certain words of,
"fuckkk you, god–",
"don't be gentle, fuck, please..",
"you' trynna make me ruin m'boxers? mhh–",
to be gentle with her was an anathema. she harbored a love–hate relationship with tender touches. the time it takes to tilt your partner over a climax cliff with teasey–tricks, renders it slow and painful, painfully gratifying. a cold thumb tamps her opposing nipple down, flopping the bundle of skin on all sides. that move? oh, that move was a curse, in fact. the time given, she tilts that blurred line between a rising climax and wetting up her boxers like a spout. and so, she cracks. "uhhn– fuckfuckfuck, mh!" she squeaks, pushing her shaken thighs harsh into the spongy bed as she cums. a gush of sticky warmth runs past her tremoring hole in lacy serum ejections, simmering a dark–hued splotch, taking a heartly shape on the plateau of her boxers, inseam tightening her fat pussy lips apart. a leak of it dribbles downward and makes merry with her smushed asscrack, smearing skin as she wriggles. you coo, "hmm, so sensitive– are we pretty girl?" as your lips drag off her suffused, swollen nipple, glistening with your bubbly saliva. a grunt grizzles in her chest, prior to her gripe of, "d–don't, call me that.." cause nuh–uh, she's 'spose to call youuu that. you chuckle, lips curling nasal creases, "hah– okay, how 'bout handsome girl?" and she just tosses her eyes off bounds, partaking her focus in the dramatic swell and heave her chest breathes, too embarrassed to gaze upon you. a smack of your lips, a rise of your body, and a stuffing of your head to her cuddled neck gets her talking again, wincing at the sanguine bite left in your rein of loving torture. one last gasp, she shudders, "f–ffuck, swear to god,"
"you make me crazy babe."
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myysaints · 9 months
Note
Hi there! I have this silly idea where yuki is y/n (established - actress,singer etc) biggest fan and when lando and y/n officially confirmed their relationship, yuki on his quest to make sure that max will treat y/n right. Lando (borderline amused and annoyed) still try to prove himself to yuki bcs y/n is very fond of him (and provide great entertainment for her). I know this quite ridiculous and would understand if you declined it :)
°˖ ⊹ ꒰ LN4 ꒱ TREAT HER RIGHT─ LANDO NORRIS
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LANDO NORRIS x f!singer!reader
genre — fluff
notes — thank you so much for the request! it was not at all ridiculous, i absolutely love this dynamic between lando and yuki !!! ik your request mentioned max, not sure if that was a typo? hopefully i got it right by going with lando :> hope u enjoy this one !!! xx (edit: LOL just realised i called u anon when your user is there TT so sorry bout that!!!)
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landonorris
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Liked by yourusername, yukitsunoda0511, danielricciardo, and 7,118,249 others
🏷  yourusername
landonorris   the sweetest melody i've ever known ❤️
view all 3,741,822 comments
danielricciardo   congrats lovebirds 🎉���
yourusername   miss you already :(
yourusername   don't mind me, just appreciating the sweetest boy ever... ❤️❤️❤️
yourusername   can't wait to see you soon !!!
yourusername   gonna write a whole album about how much i love u
landonorris   I'd love that
mclaren   Can't wait to see you in the paddock, yourusername ;)
Liked by yourusername, landonorris
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If Lando had known this would happen, he’d have never made that Instagram post.
“YOU’RE DATING WHO?!”
The Japanese driver in front of him whirls around in his seat, eyes wide and mouth hung open in askance.
It’s rare that Yuki speaks to Lando; after all, their language and cultural barrier makes conversation difficult. But this is an entirely different situation altogether.
Lando grins sheepishly, casting a look towards Charles, who stands beside him. The Monegasque merely chuckles, leaning forward in his seat to peer at Yuki.
“So, do you know Y/N?” Charles asks with a cheeky smile.
“Do I know Y/N?!” Yuki is practically leaping out of his seat, his excitement causing the other drivers in the area to glance back at the commotion. “Of course I do! She’s the best singer of all time! I always listen to her songs!”
“Oh, are we talking about Y/N L/N?” Pierre, passing by, cuts in, “Yuki loves her. Has a huge crush on her and everything.”
Lando spreads his palms out, grinning. “Guess I’ll have to keep Yuki away from her when she comes to the paddock, hmm?”
The way Yuki’s eyes light up in glee doesn’t go unnoticed, the Alpha Tauri driver’s face breaking out into an uncontrollable grin.
“You’re bringing her! When? Where?!”
“Calm down, mate,” Lando laughs, leaning back in his seat. His heart flutters at the thought of you in McLaren colours, proudly representing him and his team in the paddock, for the world to see. He clears his throat, trying to stop the furious reddening of his cheeks. “You’ll see her at Suzuka. No rush.. I know my girlfriend's quite the catch - but so am I, right?”
At this, Yuki seemingly goes quiet.
Lando raises an eyebrow. “Yuki…? You okay there?”
A moment of silence passes before Yuki gets up, motioning for Lando to follow him. With a wary look towards an equally-confused Charles and Pierre, who both only shrug in response, Lando follows Yuki towards a quieter corner.
Once they reach a secluded spot, Yuki’s eyes darken, his smile dropping instantly. The shift in atmosphere is undeniable. Lando's never seen Yuki this serious, not even after the Spanish Grand Prix. In all honesty: It scares him.
“Lando,” Yuki says, his voice steeled and brows furrowed. “I like you. I think you’re funny, and you’re a good driver-”
“Hey, thanks man,” he jokes. The attempt at keeping the mood light, however, doesn’t work in the slightest.
“-But, look, listen, if you ever think of hurting her-”
“Sorry, are we talking about Y/N?” Lando’s head tilts in confusion.
“Yes, Y/N. If you ever hurt her,” Yuki continues, ignoring the shocked look on Lando’s face. “If you ever try to hurt her, just know that I will never forgive you. Ever. Do you understand?”
“I-” Lando shakes his head, his cheeks going pink. How do you even respond to that? “-Well, yeah, mate, of course. I only want the best for her. Really, I do.”
“Okay, good. 'Cause I’ll be watching you.” Yuki straightens up, a satisfied smile on his face. “Well, I’ll see you around, then! I will look forward to Suzuka.”
And, with a playful punch to the arm, Yuki is off, leaving Lando stunned at what just happened.
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So, when Suzuka rolls around, true to his word, Lando shows up to the paddock with you on his arm.
The sight has Yuki running over instantly, a large bashful smile on his face as he greets you enthusiastically.
“Hi! You must be Yuki,” you smile softly, quietly amused at his enthusiasm. “Lando’s told me all about you.”
That was true - Immediately after Lando’s little… altercation, as one might call it, with Yuki, he’d texted you in a frantic hurry. It was, in all honesty, endearing, and incredibly funny. You’d teased Lando about it relentlessly in the days after. Plus, you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t used the Alpha Tauri driver’s words as leverage; referencing Yuki’s threat to get Lando to pick up some cupcakes, to let you pick the movie for date nights, and so on.
Lando hums in response, watching with an amused smile as Yuki almost trips over his feet trying to shake your hand. “Y/N, this is Yuki. And Yuki, this is… Well, you already know who she is.”
Yuki’s eyes are blown wide in amazement as he shakes your hand, his grip firm and his smile bright. “Wow, it’s so cool that you’re here! I love your new song, it’s already one of my favourites!”
You share a smile with Lando, who squeezes your side in a playful ‘I-told-you-so’ motion.
“Thank you so much, Yuki, that’s so sweet of you! Tell you what - If you let Lando past in the race, I’ll send you a signed copy of my new album, free of charge, before it even drops. How 'bout that?”
Yuki lets out a loud laugh, shaking his head. "No way! Maybe if Lando lets me through in quali today."
You exchange a grin with your boyfriend, who shakes his head in amusement.
"Alright, it was great seeing you, Yuki. Good luck out there," Lando fist bumps the smaller driver, who waves at you before departing with a pep in his step.
Lando's hand finds yours as you walk back to the McLaren motorhome.
"So, that was Yuki..."
"Yep," he nods in response, popping the 'p'. "What'd you think of him?"
You smile cheekily. "You sure it was him who threatened you that time? He seems so sweet!"
Lando scoffs, shaking his head despite the amused smirk that sneaks up on his face. "You haven't seen him when he's angry. He's a menace on the track, I'll tell you that."
The bright laugh that leaves your lips makes Lando's heart skip a beat, heat rising to his face at the look of joy you send his way. You never cease to make his heart flutter.
"Well, finish in the points, and maybe I'll put in a good word to Yuki then, hmm?"
"Alright, muppet. You can count on that."
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"Well..."
You're lying on the bed in Lando's hotel room, his trophy sitting tall and proud on the dresser in front of you.
It's been a crazy past 24 hours. In just this one day, you've witnessed perhaps one of the greatest drives of Lando's career, and at your first ever race, on top of that.
Lando wraps you in his arms, flipping the both of you around so that you lie atop his chest.
You smile he gazes up at you, his chest rising and falling to the steady beating of his heart. You feel so at home in these moments, the in-between spaces of time where you have him all to yourself; no races to win, no cameras to look out for. Just you and him, and the spaces in between your fingers.
You laugh softly as he nudges his face into your neck. "Well, what?"
"Well, you still gotta thank Yuki," he replies, his voice muffled in the crook of your neck. "He let me by on the second last lap. Probably would've lost out on P3 if not for that."
You chuckle, instinctively reaching a hand up to play with his curls. Lando hums lowly, leaning into your touch.
"Thought you were scared of him?" you tease, a playful smile toying on your lips.
"Well, yeah," he mutters out, his tone of voice cheeky, a smile pressed against your skin. "Gotta stay on his good side."
That elicits a giggle from you, and he pulls away from your touch to look up at your smiling face. He cups a hand around your face and pulls you down into a kiss, the two of you breathless when you resurface for air.
"I'll send him a signed CD later," you mumble, leaning back down for another searing kiss. "But I don't wanna think 'bout him right now."
An appreciative hum leaves Lando's lips. "Why not?" he teases, pulling away with a knowing twinkle in his eye.
Your reply has his breath caught in his throat.
"'Cause all I wanna think about is you."
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flowercrowngods · 2 months
Text
“Baby?”
Steve lifts his head off the pillow to look at Eddie, his back arching in a much needed way after lying on his stomach for so long, and he ends up groaning appreciatively as he stretches his back a little more. It makes Eddie smile. All the small things do.
Overcome with sudden but gentle affection, Steve rolls over with a matching smile and comes to a stop lying halfway beneath Eddie, getting a glorious view of his deepening dimples.
“Yeah?”
“I’ve been thinking,” Eddie says, his hand coming up to brush Steve’s hair out of his forehead. Steve leans into his warmth a little further, feeling so incredibly loved when Eddie looks at him like that.
It’s infinite, what he feels for Eddie. What he feels with Eddie.
“Oh? ‘Bout what?”
Eddie leans down and brushes a kiss to the tip of Steve’s nose. “You,” he says. “Me. Us.”
Steve hums, wrapping himself in Eddie’s scent as he buries his face in his chest, his arms trapped between them. He can’t move. Can hardly breathe. It’s perfect, and Eddie always indulges his cat-like tendencies, as he calls it.
“Tell me about your thoughts?”
A hand weaves its way into his hair, scratching wonderfully along his scalp in lazy, soothing patterns.
“I’m gonna put pillows on the walls for you.”
“Hmm?”
“When we have our own place. I’m gonna put pillows on the walls for you. In the kitchen even, so you can sit on the floor and still be comfy. You can have a little nook for floor time with Robin. And it’s gonna be padded with pillows, but the ones that are still solid. Only a little soft. Still grounding.” Eddie mumbles, a little lost in thought like he’s still imagining it all unfold.
Steve melts, first rolling further into him and then back, so he can look up and meet those soft, soft eyes.
“That’s what you’re thinking about?”
“All the time. Never wanna tell you about it so I won’t ruin the surprise, but, I don’t know. Wanted to tell you. You’re gonna have bougie-ass wall pillows, angel.”
And Steve doesn’t know how to handle this. How to take it all, take everything Eddie gives him and live his life an unchanged man. His heart is going to burst one of these days. It’s gonna burst and it’s gonna go everywhere, remind the world for all eternity of the love they shared. Built. Shaped and reshaped in all the ways they needed.
“Everything,” he says, his voice weak with the awe he feels, his own hand coming up to Eddie’s cheek.
“Hmm?” Eddie’s nuzzling the palm of his hand, brushing kiss over kiss to the centre.
“You’re— You’re everything. Can’t believe it sometimes.”
“Only sometimes?” Eddie teases, making Steve laugh for the first time in hours. It’s easy. God, it’s so easy.
“Don’t be so full of yourself.”
“Oh, I’m gonna be full of som—“
Laughing, Steve claps his hand over Eddie’s mouth, shutting him up and revelling in the giggle that follows before Eddie nips on his palm.
“I hate you,” Steve grins, wrapping his arms around Eddie’s middle.
“Yeah, well,” he hums, fond affection settling permanently on that pretty, pretty face. “‘M still gonna put pillows on the wall for you.”
Steve sighs, hoping to relieve some of the intensity he’s feeling. It’s overwhelming, even after all this time.
“I love you.”
“I love you,” Eddie whispers, hovering above him in an almost-kiss. “Endlessly.”
@puppy-steve i love you. i’d put pillows on the wall for you 🤍🌷
🤍 permanent tag list gang (i hope this is okay even though it’s only a tiny thing) (and maybe some reprieve from all my current angst): @skiddit @inklessletter @aringofsalt @hellion-child @stobin-cryptid @hotluncheddie @gutterflower77 @auroraplume @steddieonbigboy @n0-1-important @stevesjockstrap @brainvines @puppy-steve @izzy2210 @itsall-taken @mangoinacan13 @madigoround @pukner @i-amthepizzaman @swimmingbirdrunningrock @hammity-hammer (lmk if you want on or off)
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inkykeiji · 3 months
Text
what now?
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character: dabi | todoroki touya
genre: smut + angst
notes: eeeee happy birthday dabi!!! sorry i’m a day late, and sorry i keep writing angst for your birthday. this piece is set directly after dabi’s touya reveal, in that dingy little safe house he seems to love so much! please heed the warnings below and stay safe!
warnings: 18+ minors do not interact, rough sex, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, dom/sub dynamics, use of master/owner/sir, fem!reader, minimal prep, biting, branding, blood, the piece switches between both dabi and touya as names, size kink + size difference, spanking, objectification, degradation + dumbification, a lil bit of praise, dabi’s pretty mean when he’s fucking, dabi carries reader, toxic relationship, dacryphilia, choking
words: 8.8k
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It’s dark by the time he returns, reeking of charred flesh and ash. He had stashed you away in a decaying little safe house—a place no one else knew about, a place that was his and his alone—and had told you to wait for him. He had promised he’d return to you, no matter how long it took, no matter what happened, he’d be back, pinky swear.
Touya never breaks his pinky swears. Dabi might, though.
You had seen his video. You had been watching the news just like he told you to, anxious, waiting for any sign or indication of trouble, of terror, but the heat and the dust had been too much for the news cameras to penetrate, and there had been no reports of casualties on either side. 
Yet. 
It’s astonishing to think that the whole world knows his name now—his true name, the one buried in his blood and his bones, the one staining his soul, the one he can’t snuff out, no matter how hard he tries. You remember the first time he told it to you. 
“Touya.” 
He had said suddenly, randomly, while laying in bed with you one night back at the League’s hideout—back before all of this was set in motion, back when there was just the gentle clink of glass sounding beneath the floorboards, followed by a muddled curse and the rapid mashing of plastic buttons. 
It was muttered out in the dead of the night, when the wind was stagnant and the moonlight shimmered through grimy windows, brilliance of the beams diffused by the dirt, turning everything a hazy silver, glinting off his stitches.
“Hmm?”
“That’s my real name. Touya.”
“Touya,” you had murmured to yourself, rolling the letters around on your tongue, allowing them to seep into your flesh. “It’s beautiful.”
“Todoroki Touya.”
Oh.  
“It’s still beautiful,” you said softly, after several moments of silence, feeling Dabi melt beneath your words, tender yet resolute. “Even if the man who gave it to you isn’t.”
“Yeah,” he had responded, though his voice had sounded weird to his ears; odd, off, broken. “Fuck that guy.”
And that had been it. You hadn’t made a big deal about it, or pushed him to tell you more, or badgered him with questions and curiosities about his past. You had just accepted it and continued on. 
He had offered up shards of information over the next few months, always murmured out in the dead of night, always a piece and never a whole, always something too jagged to fit with any of the other pieces of his jigsaw he had gifted you. 
But it didn’t matter. Who he was, his past, the name he carries around and DNA twined inside his body—none of it mattered. He was, and will always be, the man you love, irregardless of the name he was born into, and the curse it bears.
The harsh unlatching of that decrepit painting startles you from your stewing thoughts, your gaze snapping toward the noise just in time to catch Dabi crawling through the trick window, entrance hidden behind the heavy gilded frame. 
Your legs toss themselves off the fraying couch the instant his gaze meets yours, heart kickstarting thick bouts of adrenaline to rush through your veins, footsteps keeping time with the tattered exhales each bang of your heart sends barrelling up your throat, body colliding into his only a moment later.
He catches you with ease, laughing loudly as he sweeps you from the floor, strong arms locked at the wrists around your lower back. Instinctively, your ankles hook together at the base of his spine, fingers immediately wandering into the dirty hair at the nape of his neck, whole body wound around his own.
He’s still laughing, bright and breathless and so, so beautiful, even as he crushes his lips to yours, even as your tongue pries past his teeth and slams against his own. It spills down your throat in warm vibrations and you swallow it readily, greedily, hands sinking further into tufts of ink-tinged ivory and twining the strands around your knuckles, desperate to tug him closer. 
The tang of death stings your tongue, earth and copper and smoke, so poignant you swear you can taste their screams, those who lost their lives to his flames and Machia’s feet and the rubble left in their wake, but you don’t care.
You don’t care, because he’s here, he’s home, he’s safe and back in your arms, with his teeth clacking against yours and his spit flooding your mouth and his unruly little giggles consistently breaking the flow of your lips. 
“Did you see it? Huh? Did you see it?” he hurls the words into your mouth, lips still mashed against your own but spread in a smile, sapphire eyes twinkling.
“I did,” you confirm with a nod, tips of your noses nudging. “I did, it was brilliant; you were brilliant, baby.”
“I know,” he snickers, foreheads knocking together, breath wafting in small, ragged pants across your face as his feet begin to move, unable to stand still. “It couldn’t have gone more perfect, I swear to fuckin’ Christ. It was—It was better than I could’ve ever imagined. I can’t even believe it.”
Words continue to tumble from his lips in excited gasps as he twirls in wide lopsided circles slow and careless around the decaying little safe house, his boots conjuring small puffs of dust beneath their soles.
“I wish you could’ve been there, baby, honest. I wish you could’ve seen that fucker’s face, it was fuckin’ priceless, and—Oh! Fuck, how could I forget the best part!” 
Halting his whirling, he pulls back to look at you more resolutely, as if he has to see the whole picture, sapphire darting around your face all wild and erratic, his smile spreading impossibly wider; uncanny, inhuman, eyes glowing with the thrill of the secret he’s about to spill.
“Shouto was there, too! How much happier could a coincidence get!” 
“Shouto?”
“I wasn’t expecting him to be there, but seriously, it was the cherry on top.” 
His feet begin to move again, resuming his impromptu dance number, adrenaline thrumming in his veins, overflowing from his orifices—smile stretching, chest swelling. 
“His presence is what really made it spectacular, you know? Sure, dad was broken, but Shouto…” Dabi shakes his head. “Little baby Shouto was knocked off his fucking feet.”
“Oh, I can only imagine…” 
…How horrifying of a realization it must’ve been; how terrifying it must’ve felt to encounter your father’s worst mistake in the breathing, bloodied flesh.
“I doubt he even remembers me—” Dabi continues, “he was only five or so when I died; he barely knew me at all.” He laughs, but it sounds tangled, caught on something buried in his throat. “Imagine that! Your big brother, only ever a ghost haunting your life, back from the grave!” 
“I’m sure he was very shocked,” you giggle, pressing your forehead to his again, fingers combing through the hair at the back of his skull. 
“Shocked? Baby, he was beyond shocked. He was—He was—I don’t even have a word for it!”
Another laugh spills from his lips, jagged and squeaky and full of razors. 
And, oh, how breathtakingly beautiful genuine happiness looks on him, even if it’s tinted with derangement—the edges of his smile a little too sharp, the glint in his eye a little too vicious.  
“The whole thing sounds magnificent,” you admit, soft and genuine, lips brushing his own. “I’m so happy it went so well.”
“It was perfect,” he gushes in a sigh. “The only way it could’ve been any more perfect is if mom, Yumi, and Natsu were there—but I’m sure they all caught the broadcast.”
You’re sure they did, too. That news programme had been playing on every major screen across the entirety of Japan; you’d have to be buried beneath a rock to have missed it.
He’s still babbling, feet still hopping and skipping around with you cradled tightly to his chest as the anticipation of his return finally wears off, clears from your system, and you take a real, good look at him. 
And your heart sinks.
New burns have bubbled up on his cheeks, leaving only a sliver of skin between them and the scars below his eyes. Staples have snapped in half, hanging precariously from chunks of dead flayed flesh, their broken edges tinged an ugly black, burnt by Todoroki flames. Speckles of crimson are splattered artfully across his hair—though whether they belong to him or someone else, it’s hard to tell—the small remaining patches of healthy skin marred by dried black dye. 
“Baby,” you breathe, struggling to keep your smile from trembling, struggling to keep concern from seeping into your voice. “You’re filthy.” 
“Yeah, you should’a saw the other guy!” he giggles at his own joke, strident and sticky in his throat, but his smile is still so bright.
“And you’re hurt.”
He blows a dismissive breath from between his lips. “Can barely feel a thing, though—and I’m not even rolling right now!” 
“Still,” you say, a frown beginning to weight the corners of your grin. “You should let me clean you up.”
“But it isn’t even painful.”
“Still,” you repeat, tender fingers brushing strands of white back from his forehead. “I want to clean you up.” 
Begrudgingly, he allows it, sat on the closed toilet lid and continuing to chatter on as you tend to his wounds, words bubbling up on breathless excitement, massive smile still slapped, almost uncomfortably so, across his face.
Oxygen keeps escaping him before he finishes his sentences, everything bouncy and enthusiastic, and it’s such a stark contrast to the Dabi you’re used to, with his languid apathetic drawl and unhurried, uninterested speech. 
And despite the subject matter, it’s nice, it’s cute. 
He tells you about his father’s paralyzation and the tears in Shouto’s eyes and the horrified panic coating their faces as careful fingers dab and wipe and smear, meticulous in their task, devoted to their cause, your head nodding along with his endless recounter, emitting the perfectly placed ooh’s and mhmm’s, asking questions when the opportunities present themselves.
And even though you love seeing him this way, full of pure joy and exhilaration, you can’t quite kill the question sprouting in the depths of your mind, chewing on the back of your brain.
What now?
It’s on the tip of your tongue, searing your tastebuds, begging to be spoken. You try to swallow it down, but it claws at the back of your tongue, clinging, curling up in your throat and refusing to be forgotten. 
What now? What’s going to happen now that Enji knows of his existence? What’s going to happen the next time he encounters his eldest child, swathed in the flames he once cherished so dearly, praised so hopefully, eating away at his boy as his hatred burns higher, blazes brighter, consumes his blood and flesh and bones and hopefully swallows down the monster that bred him in the process? 
Will there even be anything left at all? Of either of them?
Does Dabi even care? Does Touya? 
You know he’s still in there, despite the fact that his heart’s been corroded by the bitterness that’s been festering inside of him for eleven years—you’ve seen him. 
You’ve seen him, trailing along with Toga, causticity eating at his teeth as he spits that she’s fucking stupid, this is so fucking stupid, but allowing himself to be led anyway, zero resistance as her tiny hands tug him along behind her bouncing form, feet following willingly. 
You’ve seen him, meticulously picking through the glass bowls at the League’s small Halloween get together, checking and then double checking that everyone’s favourite candy is there, growling that he really doesn’t give a fuck, actually, he’s just looking for his own all the while, despite the fact that his fingers have skipped over that particular chocolate bar several times. 
You’ve seen him, on those nights where Tomura just can’t get to sleep, sprawled out on the couch in the early hours of the morning, dirty boots an inch from Tomura’s crossed legs, staring blankly at his phone and waving Kurogiri off with a go to bed already, old man. 
 So what now?
“He tried to cool me down.”
The sudden switch to a quiet, monotonous voice snaps you from your tangle of thoughts, eyes refocusing on Dabi’s face, realizing you’ve rubbed a streak of his cheek near raw. 
“What?”
“Shouto. He tried to cool me down. With his ice.” A pause, a drop of blood, balancing precariously on his lash line. “Like…Like how mom used to.” 
His Adams apple bobs with the heft of a thick swallow, his eyes blank and unblinking, staring at your shoulder. 
The blood in your veins runs frigid, hand held rigid and hovering over his wounds.
“During the fight?” 
His gaze stays fixed on that spot as he nods, slowly, just once. 
“I was overheating, and he…” 
Another beat of silence passes, the sound of your own breathing echoing in your ears, harsh and fast with the rapid beating of your heart. The blood collecting along his lashes finally overflows, escaping their confines to pool in the crinkles of dead skin and coat gold in crimson.
“Hey,” you murmur, so gentle, so soft it inspires a second wave of blood, dainty hands cupping his jaw and tilting his face to yours. 
Thumbs swipe through the thick streams of scarlet trickling down his cheeks, smearing bright strokes across healthy skin. His eyes, red and glazed but tearless, hold yours for a moment, his nostrils twitching twice. 
Beneath your palms, the hinges of his jaw flex with another dense swallow, warped smile wobbling a little.
“Whatever,” he says, voice less than an octave off from normal. “Doesn’t matter, not important.”
It does, you want to say. It is, you want to insist—
“All I want to do now is celebrate the best day of my life with the love of my life.”
Saliva pools beneath your tongue, the threat of tears thick in your throat.
“Touya…” your eyes search his face, worry woven into the wrinkles between your furrowed brow. “It—”
“Please,” he whispers, so quiet it’s barely more than a wisp of air, his eyes closing briefly for a moment as he gathers himself, lids lifting a second later. “Let me have this.” 
You want to, you so desperately want to—want to allow him this space to be happy, unfiltered and unadulterated, even in all of it’s unhinged, brainsick fervour. You don’t want to ruin this for him, the self-proclaimed Best Day of His Life, but…
What now?
It’s nipping at your lips, leaving them tingling and twitching, but you press your tongue to the roof of your mouth and suck, melting the question in the smothering heat. 
Now is not the time to ask. You will save this question, will fold it into a neat little shape and stash it away in your stomach, where it will rage and roar and demand to be spoken, where you will shove it down and stomp it into submission until it is time to be released.
You refuse to steal this moment from him.
“Okay,” you finally murmur, stroking his blood-slicked cheeks. “Okay.”
It’s hard to ignore the concern scraping at the walls of your skull, to disregard the talons tearing at your heart, to snuff out the flames licking at your lungs, but you’ll do it for him.
Always for him.
And for the first time tonight, his smile softens, sharp edges gone melty with love.
Large hands, hardened by blue fire and the ends of Marlboros, skim up your bare thighs, the callouses adorning his palms scraping roughly against sensitive skin, inspiring trails of chills in their wake. The hem of your dress pools around his wrists as his touch climbs higher, filthy fingers, with dirt caked beneath their nails and grime lining their cuticles, wiggling their way beneath a frilly pink waistband, curling almost protectively around your hips, tips digging into supple flesh just shy of too hard.
“A perfect day deserves a perfect end, don’t you think?” 
The question drips from his lips in a sultry murmur, stare heavily lidded as he tugs you down into his lap, a leering smirk smeared across his face. 
“Oh, yeah?” your arms wind around his neck, nose bumping against his own. “And what’s that?” 
“Stuffing my favourite girl full of my cum.” 
Lips trace along the edge of your jaw as he speaks, words leaving sloppy strokes of saliva as his mouth moves against you skin. 
“Over,” kiss, “And over,” kiss, “And over again, until it’s leaking out of her pretty little pussy, all over her pretty thighs, all over my pretty cock.”
“I think that—ah—I think that’s a great way to end the day.”
“Mm,” he hums, painting a flat, wide stroke of saliva up the column of your neck, the tip of his tongue tracing your cupids bow, nose bumping against your own. “It’s my favourite way to end the day.” 
His lips press to yours, tongues finding each other instantly, dragging across one another in crude, sloppy caresses, heavy and slow and firm as they grind, massaging together in little circles. It’s almost as if you’re trying to soak up his taste, to permanently imbue your tastebuds with it, to keep a little reminder of him—a single piece—with you forever. 
It’s messy, thick drool oozing from the seams of your conjoined mouths, but you don’t care, licking excess saliva from the corners of his mouth, sucking the dribble steadily collecting on his bottom lip, lapping up the foamy spit coating his chin staples, leaving them gleaming with you. 
Lips clash again, teeth gnawing their way into the warm, wet heat of mouths, desperate to devour any part of each another you possibly can, sucking gasps and mewls and laughs from one throat into another, inhaling shards of your souls and swallowing them down, burying them in pits of stomachs and depths of guts—keepsakes, kept safe.
You can taste his blood in your mouth, salty with the tears that can’t fall, trickling from the edges of his eyes. Unfurling from your mouth, the tip of your tongue licks a thin strip up his ragged cheeks, over dead skin and warm bumpy metal, sopping up crimson sadness and consuming it. 
You hold it for him, extract it from him, bear it with him, letting it soak into your heart where it can stay, for as long as he needs it to.
But that isn’t enough for him, because he wants something in return; he wants your blood, too.
Sharp teeth sink into your bottom lip, sucked taut and pressed tight to his tongue, a muted chuckle vibrating in his chest at your responding yelp. The strong hinges of his jaw flex, burrowing ivory deep, deep, deeper into your flesh, until the barrier snaps and copper explodes on his tongue, sticky and potent and so, so much. 
He refuses to release you, ribs rattling with a growl when you try in vain to tug your lip free from its captors, a sob hitching in your throat, followed by a wheezy whine. 
“Stay put, goddamn it,” he mumbles the words through his occupied teeth, tongue stroking your lip in the process. “M’not finished.” 
Your squirming stops almost instantly, body deflating into his own, and he huffs out a snort, hot against your face. 
The grip of his teeth loosens marginally, the tip of his tongue laving over the steadily weeping wound in firm, thorough strokes, tracing every indent his teeth left behind, dips rapidly swelling and filling with watered down blood, a mold of six teeth carved into your flesh. 
The strength of his suction increases, siphoning fresh blood from the tiny gashes, and he moans a little, eyes rolling back in his skull as fluttery lashes frame the whites, his hips twitching up. 
Sicko. 
His cock is already hard, rutting into your core in irregular little movements, the lace of your panties so delicate you swear you can feel it throbbing, his motions molding the dainty fabric to your soaking folds with every slight jerk upward.
Slim fingers flex, grip on your hips tightening and further burying his nails in your flesh as he forces you to begin rocking in his lap, grinding down to meet each roll up.
His lips have left your own again, his mouth streaked with your blood, a pretty pink shimmer glazing the bottom half of his face. Blood is still trickling from the six tiny slashes his teeth left, overflowing from the seam of your mouth and flowing down your chin in unbroken streams. 
Swiping a thumb through the thin floods, he smears sticky crimson across your skin, collecting a healthy swap of the substance on the pad of his finger—so much so it begins dripping down the curve to settle in the lines of his knuckle and his palm.
“Beautiful,” he whispers, repeating the action, painting you in messy shades of yourself. “Just beautiful.” 
A whimper slips through your lips, eager tongue catching his thumb and curling around the appendage—protective, possessive—drawing it into the heat of your mouth. 
He lets you guide him willingly, watches with lust-blown pupils as your lips pucker around the second knuckle, slick tongue cradling his thumb as it sucks it to the roof of your mouth, pools of saliva washing your blood from his skin. 
His breath is coming out in hot, hard huffs, exhaled through parted lips as your mouth tightens, swallows his thumb down further. His pupils pulse, gnawing away at his irises as they try to devour you whole, blue so thin it’s scarcely an outline tracing gaping orbs of black.
Your hips are still gyrating against his in erratic little circles, a single palm still clasped around your waist guiding you, encouraging you as he bucks in response, straining cock rubbing along your cunt. 
It’s just barely catching your clit, nothing more than teasing little grazes, dense heat simmering in the pit of your tummy.
You need more.
“Dabi,” you whine a little, wriggling in his grasp, a desperate attempt to garner more friction. 
“Uh-huh?”
“Touya.”
“Yeah, baby,” he answers, the nonchalance in his tone contradicting the mischief glinting in his eye. “What is it?” 
Chrome chips your nails as you claw at the heavy buckle of his belt, leather squeaking against metal. His free hand captures your wrists easily, holding them together in one palm, hard enough that the bones grind together.
“You want something? Huh?” 
Brows knitting, you glare at him, bottom lip quivering a little, fighting the urge to jut into a full-blown pout, fighting the urge to spit out what do you think? 
“You know.”
He does, of course he does. 
But that doesn’t mean he’s just going to give it to you.
“C’mon, I wanna hear you say it,” he purrs as your chin puckers, your whole face scrunched up in a scowl. “C’mon, baby, c’mon, be a good little girl and ask for it.” 
Sapphire scathes your skin, almost as bright and burning as his flames, his unadulterated attention nearly too much to bear, confidence and brattiness withering beneath his scorching stare.
Lashes fluttering, your eyes flee his, tears forming to shield you from his heat, shoulders caving inward in an attempt to protect you from his unyielding scrutiny. 
“W-Want your cock.”
His tongue clicks in disapproval, a mocking frown slapped across his face barely suppressing his amusement, eyes shining, power flaring. 
“That’s not asking, sweetheart.” 
Swallowing thickly, you force your gaze to his, lids squinting a little beneath his brilliance.
“Can I please have your cock? Please?” 
“Please what?”
And although he’s acting unaffected, he can’t quite quell the spasming of his hips, jerking up in minuscule movements and grinding his cock into your sopping hole, panties clinging uncomfortably to your folds.
An eyebrow raises, a question of Well? I’m waiting… imbued in the subtle action. 
He isn’t going to give it to you unless you ask properly, like a good little girl is supposed to.
As expected.
“Please, Master,” you mewl, fingers curling over the edges of his belt and tugging, sharp leather biting into soft hands. “Please, please, let me ride your cock, Sir.”
Cavernous eyes observe you for a moment, scanning for dishonesty, grin growing when a whine vibrates in your throat, low and needy.
“Please?” you whimper, the leather of his belt creasing beneath your grip, squealing as it rubs together, a plead hitching in your chest. “Pl—Please, Sir.”
“Alright, alright,” he’s pacifying, acting as if he’s doing you some sort of favour, as if his cock isn’t jumping eagerly with each drool of pre-cum leaking from its slit. “Go on, then. Get it out.”
Words of thanks are pouring from your lips as your hands hastily undo his pants, yanking at the buckle, tugging at the zipper, shoving at the waistband, messy and urgent until his cock is finally released.
The stretch is nothing short of incredible, as it always is with him, little hole trembling as it swallows around his girth, drawing him in further and further, deeper and deeper, slow and steady until the head nudges your cervix, his hips twitching up twice, ensuring he’s hit the end, buried to the hilt with nowhere else to go, completely stuffing your cunt full. 
And despite the trademark ache, delicate flesh stinging as it splits into little fissures to accommodate him, your hips begin moving immediately, starved and raring, whimpering a little into his shoulder as you cling to him, every rotation of your hips radiating pricks of pain through your gut.
“God, you’re pathetic,” he snorts, but the insult is soft, edges dulled by love. “So fucking desperate for my cock, aren’t you?” 
“Can’t help it,” you murmur, rubbing your cheek along the curve of his neck, then his jaw, streaking your face with his sweat. “Missed you so much.” 
“I know, baby,” the tip of his tongue swipes through the blood still staining your chin. “Bet you missed my cock just as much, if not more.”
“Yes, yes, Sir,” you’re nodding in messy little motions, hips still rocking languidly against his own, clit gliding against his slick pubic bone in rhythmic strokes. “I did, I missed it s’much—”
A gasp slices through your slurred words, sharp air shoved from your chest as his hips begin snapping upward, rough and ruthless and without warning, the hands grasping your hips tightening around your flesh as he forces you to stay in place.
“Of course you did,” he grunts out, as if it’s preposterous to think otherwise. “I’m not at all surprised; my sweet lil slut can’t live without my cock, can she?” 
“Never, never, ne-never,” you babble out in confirmation, words stuttered harshly with the piston of his hips. 
Another laugh spills from his lips, airy and malicious in melody.
“No, never,” he rasps, ever-so-slightly breathless with the effort, dewdrops of sweat beginning to adorn his hairline. “Fuck, how would you ever get off without me, huh?” 
The question sends a pang searing through your heart, echoing a question you’ve been asking yourself often as of late—how would you ever survive without him? 
The thought stings your eyes, thick tears rushing to cloud your vision and rendering him nothing more than a watery blur of ivory and violet.
“I—I wouldn’t, Sir, I wouldn’t!” you cry out, rapid fluttering of your lids dislodging teardrops, streaming down your cheeks in glistening pairs. “I n-need you, I need you, always, always, al-always!” 
Your fingers curl against his shoulders, nails catching on staples, a hiss spit from the gaps of his teeth. They sink into grafted skin, dead and weathered and dusted in ash, and cling, knuckles locked and stiff as you try to pull yourself impossibly closer to him.
Gnarled flesh collects beneath the edges of your nails as your grip strengthens, chewing on his body and gathering it in your grasp, consuming whatever tiny slivers you can, a silent plead to stay.
“It’s okay, precious,” he hushes you, lips pushed into a mocking pout, contradicted by the smothering affection exuding from his eyes. “M’here, m’not going anywhere.”
God, you hope not. 
“Please, please—” 
And you drown yourself in it, drown yourself in him; his taste, spicy hickory and warm smoke, exhaled onto your hungry tongue, soaked up and swallowed down; his gaze, overflowing with adoration and intense attention, tying itself in a thick braided noose around your neck and tightening; his touch, stamping his prints into your flesh in blotchy bursts of blue, singeing his name with licks of sapphire that welt and wound, that crust and crater and scar. 
Your ribs squeeze, sucked inward by the voracious black hole your heart has morphed into—never sated, never filled, always vying for more—whole body curling beneath the strain.
But he’s right there to hold you, to steady you, to keep you intact, his hands the stitches you need to keep from unraveling.
“I know, I know,” he’s cooing as you choke on sobs, still scraping weakly at his back, “your Master’s gonna give you what you need.”
Slim fingers flex, soot-stuffed nails latching onto your flesh like tiny leeches, dug in nice and deep, using his grasp as leverage to control the speed and angle of your hips. 
Your feet skid against the chipped bathroom tile, the muscles in your legs tensing as you attempt to find stable purchase on the floor trying to aid in his movements, to fuck yourself on him.
It’s no use, though—it’s not like it matters, anyway, not when Dabi’s got complete domination over your body, over all of its movements and positions, manhandling you into whatever arrangement he pleases, reduced to nothing more than his favourite little plaything. 
“It’s real cute,” he’s telling you in that sugared condescension you’ve come to love so much, “that you’re trying so hard to help me.”
A whine escapes your lips, caught somewhere between apologetic and petulant, hips stammering as they begin to slow, and he laughs. 
“Aw, no, don’t stop,” his tongue clicks against his teeth. “Keep trying, it’s so precious.” 
And although his tone is taunting, full of characteristic derisive glee, his eyes are encouraging, begging you to keep going, for him. 
And so, you do, desperate to please him, the muscles in your thighs beginning to burn as you work in vain to pathetically hump away at him, hips knocking together irregularly as your footing continues to slip.
It doesn’t do much to assist him, but he’s happy anyway, a certain type of pride saturating his features, dulling the points of his wide smile, dimming the harsh brilliance in his eyes, turning his face into something a little softer, something a little sweeter.
Dabi keeps an iron grip on the pace—not that you’d ever expect anything different—forcing you to ride him hard and fast, bouncing you on his cock as his hips buck up in expert rhythm, completing your movements every time. The head drags over that engorged spot with each pound into you, sending a judder of scorching sparks to rush through your blood, each bout more intense than the last.
“God, look at you, you’re such a little slut for me, huh?” he pants out, rapacious eyes sweeping across your face, keen to soak up your expression. “Taking my cock like you were fuckin’ made for it.”
He’s really fucking into you now, jerking you on his cock like a toy, because you are—something that’s his to use whenever, wherever, and however he sees fit, something that’s his to own, to care for and splinter to bits and painstakingly piece back together, over and over and over again.
Tears of ecstasy are pouring from your eyes, cascading down your face in twin streams, excess dewdrops embedded in spiked lashes glittering with every rough pump of his hips.
It all hurts—always does, with Dabi, incapable of treating anything with any degree of gentleness; not a flaw, just a fact, oblivious to his own strength—but the pain only works to elevate the pleasure, pushing it higher and higher and higher until it’s choking you, smothering your lungs and stuffing your throat and spilling out your mouth in the form of messy, stringy sobs.
“S’been so long, Sir, so long,” you weep, nails burrowing further into his body, almost as if they’re desperate to reach his core—to pry past his ribs and claw into his heart and curl up in his soul. 
Because it has been so long, too long, most of Dabi’s attention soaked up by Paranormal Liberation duties and his own extensive planning as Shigaraki’s due date drew closer and closer, any scraps of time thrown your way whenever he had a spare moment to sneak off to this dilapidated safe house where he’d stashed you away, his visits sporadic and unpredictable. 
“You’re right,” he says, and there’s a tinge of melancholy to his breath. “It’s been way too long since your sweet cunt has been filled with your Owner’s cock, hasn’t it?”  
“It has, it has,” you’re nodding sloppily, tongue tangled in threads of spit.
“My poor lil pussy,” he pouts, and it’s so derisive. “Must be starving, it hasn’t been stuffed nice and full with my cum in forever.” 
“No, no, no,” you’re chanting in agreement, “feels so empty without you, Sir, feels s-so wrong.”
“Aw, don’t worry, sweetheart,” he crudely laps at the steady stream of tears, vicious bouncing causing his teeth to nick your cheek. “I’m gonna change that.”
Chapped lips find your ear, slicked with saliva, his voice dropping an octave as he continues. 
“Because tonight,” he breathes, sweltering against your ear, his tongue darting from between wet lips to trace along the curve. “I am going to stuff you so full of my cum that—ah, fu-fuck—that it’s going to flood your cute lil tummy, that it’s gonna seep into your organs, into your fucking blood, that it’s gonna be leaking out all over the fucking place.” 
“Oh, oh, please, Sir, please!” 
The pleads come out as a single string, melded together with drool and garbled on your tongue. Little jolts of fire shoot through your body with the constant ramming of his hips, flames licking at your veins as they sear through them, the sharp slap of your ass against his thighs complementing his harsh pants and your broken moans.
“Yeah, I know, my little cumslut wants that so badly, doesn’t she?”
Your brain struggles to stitch together a sentence longer than his name, your mind gone delirious for his seed—and it’s an aching, it’s an addiction, sick and depraved and downright uncontrollable—little uh-huh!’s mercilessly fucked from your throat, head bobbling along with the affirmations.
You can feel it, a taut pleasure building within your body, a fluttering that furls into a tight ball of sapphire flame in the pit of your belly, pulsing a little faster, a little harder, a little more with every drive of his cock. 
“Oh, Touya, Tou—Touya!”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah, say my name.” 
A growl rattles against his ribs, whole chest vibrating with the force of it, and his head dips down, slick tongue painting strokes of thick, shimmering saliva across your skin, an artist priming his favourite canvas.
“C’mon, tell me who’s making you feel this good—” and although it’s supposed to be a command, it comes out as a plead, voice tapering off into a low whine, muffled against your shoulder. “Tell me, tell me.”
“You, Touya,” you choke out, the name mangling itself in your throat. “You, you, you!” 
“You’re goddamn right, it’s me.” 
Sharp teeth bury themselves in your flesh, mouth clamped over the junction of your neck, harder and harder and harder until the barrier of your skin finally splits, syrupy copper erupting on his tongue. 
His name shatters on your lips, a dark chuckle soaking into the wound when you arch your neck, stretched and strained and offering him more room to work despite the squeal of pain sticking in your throat
It’s all so much, too much, his teeth in your flesh and his cock filling your cunt and—and—!
“Gonna—gonna—!” 
A large palm collides with your ass, sick slap echoing off the cracked walls. 
“Is that any way to ask your Master for permission?” Dabi spits, voice dripping with disappointment. “God,” he huffs out a laugh, incredulous, but the mirth shining in his eyes is so bright, so blazing it almost hurts to look at. “My cock must’ve really made you go fucking stupid, huh? Don’t you know this body belongs to me?” 
Another spank lands against your bottom, a yelp hitching in your chest with the ruthless jackhammer of his hips, his fingers sinking into the burning flesh in a bruising grip, amplifying the sting of the slap, digging it deep into your tissues. 
“This body is not allowed to cum unless I say so—so ask nicely, you little bitch.” 
“M’sorry!” you cry out, a fresh torrent of tears flooding your eyes. “M’sorry, m’so sorry, Master—”
“Yeah? Yeah?” 
His other hand snakes between your heaving, sweat-drenched bodies, thumb and forefinger clamping down on your clit and tweaking, hard enough to force a scream from your tongue, sending spikes of pain rushing through your veins. His fingers flatten against the engorged little nub a moment later, rubbing hard, quick circles into it, a malicious little giggle squeaking in his throat because it’s so swollen, baby and Christ, you must wanna cream all over his cock so badly! 
Sounds of affirmation spill uncontrollably from your lips, head nodding in frenetic little motions, whole face shimmering and sticky with salt, snot, sweat. 
“Uh-huh? Uh-huh?” 
He’s mocking you, chin tilted up in superiority, staring down the bridge of his nose to regard you in patronizing pity, eyebrows raised and imploring you to continue. 
“Apologies are not asking, baby,” his grip catches your slippery clit again, twisting it harder this time, your eyes scrunching shut as a cry shatters on your tongue, fingers scrabbling against his shoulders, tearing out staples. 
He’s right, you know he is, but he’s making it difficult to speak, difficult to ask, difficult to stitch together a single word at all, let alone a full thought, when he’s playing with your clit like that, alternating between pulsing pinches and gentle caresses, the calloused pads of his fingertips providing just the right amount of friction. 
Your whole body quivers with the effort of holding your orgasm back, muscles pulled tight and taut with the strain, and he laughs—beautiful, breathless, bona-fide—cock twitching inside of you. 
“Pl—Please, Sir,” you manage to gasp out, entreatment forced from your tongue in a single thin breath. “Please, let me cum, please, please, please!” 
The pleads melt into one gooey stream as they flow from your lips, slathered in drool and dripping from the corners of your mouth in thick cords. 
“Yeah? You want it? You wanna cum all over your Owner’s cock?” 
“Yes, yes!” you practically wail, pawing urgently at him. “Please, sir, let me cum, make me cum, I wanna—I wanna—”
“Alright, alright,” Dabi’s pacifying, but his actions don’t slow, hips merciless with their assault on your body. “Go ahead, sweetheart, make a pretty mess on me.” 
Never one to disobey a direct order from your Master, you do, almost instantly, entire body convulsing as your cunt pulses around his shaft, gushing so much slick that it floods his thighs and soaks the waistband of his pants.
The constant circles ground into your sensitive clit as you spasm around him only work to heighten the pleasure, brain gone numb with the shocks of ecstasy coursing through your body, another flurry of jolts sent through your veins with every run through the routine, skin rippling with the impact. 
He doesn’t stop his assault even after you cum, vehemently refusing to let up even as the clenching of your cunt fades into something faint and erratic, even as violent tremors loop through your veins, entire body quivering in his tight grasp, even as your fingers claw weakly at his wrist, crooking staples and scraping scarred flesh, blood rushing to fill the gouges left by your nails. 
No, he doesn’t stop until you’re teetering on the brink of passing out, wandering in and out of consciousness, his name leaving your lips in a near incomprehensible jumble, slurred and heavy with spit. 
Only then does he scoop you up in his arms, your legs dangling limply from his elbows as his palms firmly clutch your ass, hard cock still aching and buried deep inside of you, and carry your pliant body to that worn, fraying couch, with the puffs of white cotton leaking through the polyester and the exposed springs groaning beneath your weight.
You barely notice the change in scenery, though, still blissfully fucked out, nerves gnawed raw  by his overstimulation, a soft hiss slipping from between your teeth as the scratchy cushion rubs against your bare bottom, a raised imprint of Dabi’s palm and all five fingers still rapidly swelling. 
“It’s my turn now, angel,” Dabi’s words drift over your body in an indistinct haze, vision fuzzing at the edges, your head nodding instinctively. 
“Gonna—Gonna make good on your promise, Master?” 
“I always do, don’t I?” 
And then his hips are thrusting, cockhead repeatedly ramming your cervix with every harsh plunge forward, leaning down to catch fresh tears with his lips. The tip of his tongue traces their salty trajectory all the way to your bottom lashes, matted into wet little spikes, before sucking a hickey into your cheek, tiny capillaries bursting beneath his tongue, staining the thin skin with swiftly developing violet.
Tufts of ivory cling to his temples in damp clumps, dried black dye liquifying beneath his heat and running down his cheeks, leaving streaks along the line of his jaw and the curve of his neck. Sweat collects in the dips of his collarbones, shimmering gently in the flickering light spilling from the television set, a wavering news reporter recounting the tragic events of today, stuttered by static.
“God,” he nearly whines, voracious eyes sweeping across your face, desperate to soak up your twisted expression of pleasure-tinged pain—the way your lids keep drooping as you struggle to keep them pried open, eyes speckled with stars, lashes encrusted with tears; the way your tongue keeps lolling out to draw your slick lip back between your teeth, muffling your whimpers and mewls, and oh, no, he can’t have that, a gentle tut of his tongue clicking against his teeth as his thumb tugs it free from your mouth, drawing out a stringy whine in the process.
“You’re so fucking gorgeous when you go dumb from my cock.”
The words leave his lips in an airy gasp, as if he can hardly believe you’re real beneath him, as if he can hardly believe it’s his cock making you look this way, a hand leaving your waist to slide along your torso, taking the hem of your dress with it, rough palm tracing every curve and dip and bulge as it crawls to your collarbone. 
He takes his time to admire you—to appreciate the sensation of your skin beneath his touch, fingers gripping, kneading, scraping, gathering palmfuls of you in his grasp before letting go again in a stunned sort of marvel—hips slowing to an uneven rutting, unable to fully halt his fucking. 
Keeping a firm, steady grasp on your body and pinning you in place, his free hand continues to roam, hardened fingertips sinking into the pretty blue lace of your bra hard with enough force to elicit a yelp from your lips, amusement tugging at his lips. 
“So, so beautiful,” he pants, eyes skimming your now exposed body, his fiery gaze outlining every edge, dedicated in committing every contour to memory. “Fucking look at you.” 
In all the time you’ve been with him, your body has become a scrapbook of Dabi. It tells stories of him—what he’s done, how he’s felt, where he’s been, why he did it—stamped permanently into your flesh using his teeth and his tongue and his flames, in raised flesh and puckered craters and glittering scabs.
You can’t tear your stare from his face, though, too busy worshipping him, sapphire eyes gaping and glazed as they travel along your body, soft huffs of breath escaping his lips, pushed from his throat with the tender heaving of his chest, saliva glistening on his lips, smeared so prettily across the staples climbing his chin. 
Dainty fingers grope at the air, pathetic and yearning, clawing at nothing, and he laughs a little, nothing more than a smooth, deep vibration at the back of his tongue.
His touch finds the apex of your thighs again, nails dimpling flesh as he spreads your legs wide—so wide your muscles begin to burn, taut beneath the strain—a quiet groan rumbling in his chest as he stares at your stretched cunt. 
Two fingers press into your clit, still slick and swollen, grazing over it in slow caresses—back and forth, back and forth, gliding easily over the puffy nub and snorting a little at the way your hole flutters, eager and aching, squeezing his cock, sucking him in, begging for more. 
So cute. 
Eyes wide and unblinking, he plays with you in a trance, slowly but surely building up pleasure in you, pressure in you, fascinated by the way your body so readily reacts to his simple motions, grinding circles and rubbing strokes and pulsing fingertips. 
It enraptures him, puffs of hot air exhaled through slightly parted lips as he watches just his touch bring you to orgasm for the second time tonight, obsessed with the way your cunt trembles around his cock, a surge of your essence streaming from your hole, embracing him in a thick, wet heat.
Your cunt gorges on him—so fuckin’ greedy, even after cumming twice—fluttering a little around the base of his shaft, still oozing so much slick that it’s glazing your ass and his balls, steadily seeping past the tight seam of your hole. 
It’s so pretty, it’s so fuckin’ pretty, baby, he’s breathing, eyes hazy with awe, hips drawing back just a little to watch the way your body clings to his girth, sheathing his cock in a shimmering layer of arousal. 
A palm wraps around the base of his shaft, the head of his cock still buried an inch or two in your straining cunt, and he jerks himself hard and quick, sick wet slaps echoing out among the room as his hand slams between your cunt and his pelvis. 
“Fuck, f-fuck—” 
His hips start moving on their own accord, too impatient, his hand nothing compared to the sweltering ecstasy of your cunt, and he releases his cock, sticky hand collaring your throat, pinioning you to the couch, his thrusts so vicious they’re jostling your body up the cushions, the palm crushing your airway keeping you in place.
Lithe fingers flex as their grip on your neck tightens, coarse pads of his fingertips beginning to heat up, blood in your veins bubbling beneath his touch. 
Your flesh melts beneath his hold, melds itself to his grasp, desperate to stay in his hands forever. 
The sting is unlike anything you’ve ever felt before, his palm and all five of his fingers singed into your skin in the prettiest, most precious permanent necklace. You can barely breathe, exhales coming as weak little wheezes, and you swear his flames must be licking into your throat, down to your lungs and straight through your veins, incinerating your blood as your body goes numb, cunt clenching around his cock for the third time, wailing out shards of his name. 
But you don’t allow his hold to let up, to loosen at all, both of your hands placed firmly over his, holding it there harder, a loud moan escaping his lips, his hips stammering out of rhythm. 
“Brand me, Master, brand me, brand me,” you’re gasping out, voice wrecked and raw. “Make me yours, mark me as yours, forever!”
“Jesus Christ,” he nearly sobs, his thrusts turned brutal, primal, losing any semblance of finesse as he relentlessly fucks you, motions stuttering as he finally cums, a violent shudder coursing through his body before he collapses on top of you, drenched in sweat as his cock throbs, filling you to the brim with hot, thick cum. 
“More, Touya, more, more!” you’re crying out, scrabbling at his shoulders as you try to pull him closer, shivering legs latching around his waist as tight as you can manage as your hips roll up to meet his own, crudely humping him. “Gimme more!” 
A groan, dense and heavy, spills from his lips, his entire body rippling with hiccups as he ruts into you—automatic, instinctual, desperate to give his sweet girl what she wants, even if it hurts.
“Yeah, yeah, ye-yeah, Touya, Touya, fill me with y’r cum!” 
And so, he does, using your cunt to milk himself even as his form quivers with every rock of his hips, chills skidding across his flesh with every bump of his cockhead against your abused cervix. 
He keeps going, just like you begged him to, just like he promised he would, until your tummy is stuffed full and your cunt is leaking with his seed, until neither of you can take it anymore, bodies shuddering with every hump and drag and grind, deliquescing into one another, a puddle of limbs. 
You stay like that for a while, his body blanketing yours, breathing as one, being as one. Gentle fingertips trail up and down the column of his spine as his bones begin to fuse and harden again, tiptoeing over the trails of staples stitching dead skin to healthy flesh and evoking a mild shudder, pads of your fingers pressing into each golden suture, counting them lovingly, kissing every one. 
Eventually, after your fingers have traversed across all thirty-one, he shifts, manhandling you onto his chest as he shuffles himself beneath you, cradled between his thighs. 
“What now?”
You don’t mean to say it, don’t mean to shatter that delicate, post-orgasmic, precarious peace with two simple words, but they claw up your throat and pry past your teeth and gnaw on your lips, desperate to be vocalized, immortalized, heard.
What now? 
They’re uttered out softly enough, lips moving against his heart, warm breath seeping into his chest, the question worming its way beneath his skin. 
His muscles go rigid, his breath stalling in his lungs.
What happens now that his goal has been reached, Part One in his plan succeeded? What’s the next step, now that the world knows Todoroki Touya is alive and simmering in his hatred, fuelled by spite and ravenous with revenge?
What happens when he goes to face his father for the final time? And what happens if he never returns?
“Oh, I dunno,” he sighs out, but his voice trembles. “We could fix this place up, all nice and swanky, have a couple’a kids, get a golden retriever—y’know, real nuclear family type shit.” 
You laugh, but it comes out strangled, sounding strange to your ears, a distorted sob. 
“The dream, huh?” 
“Yeah,” he says, quiet, nostalgia for a time that has never happened, that will never come, aching in his words. “The dream.” 
A silence settles over the two of you, as tender as the edges of a festering wound.
“I have to do it,” he says after several moments have passed, and his voice is soft—softer than you’ve ever heard it before, softer than you ever thought him capable of—infused with apology.
He does.
You know he does. You understand why. That’s how the story ends, the final chapter he’s been drafting—you were never meant to be a part of this tale, written in between lines and margins, stuffed between words, twined throughout the pages nonetheless. But ultimately, this is his story—to write, to tell, to edit, to revise, to create, to conclude. 
You know.
But the acceptance sticks in your throat, furled into a tight, hard lump, so you nod instead, punctuating your affirmative with a kiss pressed to his chest, planted right over his heart. It soaks into his skin, burrows itself into pulsating muscle and finds salvation there, finds home there, a puzzle piece that snaps into perfect place—something that’s always been missing, now complete. Something he’ll take with him, when his pen leaves the page, when his book snaps shut.
You don’t dare look at him. You don’t need to. You can feel the stutter of his chest, hear the hitch of his breath tangling on hard truths to swallow, smell the copper streaming down his cheeks again.
And you hug him tighter. 
You know. And no matter how badly you wish to, you won’t stop him. 
598 notes · View notes
chuluoyi · 2 months
Note
omgomg y/n in love entries feeling insecure because she cant fit her clothes due to being pregnant and gojo reassures her 🥹🥹
in your later stages of pregnancy, you don’t feel pretty anymore—or more like not at all, and the feeling stabs you once again when you tried to wear your favorite jeans only for it to not fit your thighs anymore.
bouts of vertigo, aching spine and the way you should’ve grown out of your morning sickness by this point make it even worse. you still feel nauseous when accidentally moving too much, and satoru made it clear that you’re taking your maternity leave as soon as you hit the eight month mark. but staying home and being idle all day doesn’t really do you good aside from reflecting on your current physique.
you love your baby, but carrying him isn’t exactly a breeze. sometimes you just don’t want to wake up at all.
which is why on this particular night, you finally break down in tears, thinking that you just have to let it out to make yourself feel better.
what you don’t count on is that satoru will be back earlier than usual, and sees you in your sobbing mess. his heart sinks because you never really cry, not unless it’s a major problem.
“hey, sweetheart, why are you crying?” he gathers you in his arms and you look up to him in slight surprise.
“w-why are you back already? hic…”
he shushes you, wiping your tears with his thumb gently. “what upsets you? does the baby hurt you?”
“n-no… i just feel like… i’m getting so big…”
“hmm? of course you are. you’re growing our baby. if you don’t get big, i’ll feed you until you do.”
that actually stops your tears as you stare at him with a slight frown. “satoru… i’m mourning my figure here.“
“and i’m saying you don’t need to because you can take it easy,” he grins. “and i love you soft like this anyways. you feel like mochi.”
“…you don’t get turned off… by me?”
his clear eyes widens a bit, and in that very second, he knows he has to make his point loud and clear… and not in just words.
which is why you then find yourself on your back, biting back soft pants—the very generous mound of your belly laid bare as he trails soft kisses along it, before his lips proceed downwards—
—all to show you that he might actually have a thing with how you look with his baby inside you.
989 notes · View notes
aeth-supremacy · 1 year
Text
König - Projekt Amor
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Word count: 4.6k
Pairing: König x Reader
Summary: When the lab you're clearing with König has a hormonal weapon you didn't expect, you try your hardest to control yourself from him, but you can tell he's wanted this for a while.
Warnings: Smut, poorly translated German, some canon typical violence, and drug-induced sex.
Notes: I know many of you follow me for Ghost Band stuff, which I will continue to write!! I’m just gonna leave this here for my CoD enjoyers too <3
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“Hello, König!” You smiled, taking a seat across from him on the plane. You looked around for a moment, expecting to see more of the team. Surprisingly, it was just the two of you, plus a pilot. König wore what he always did, and you adorned your gear for more hands-on missions, as you normally opted to stay back and operate some of the computers back at base. Behind you, the door sealed and your pilot began procedures for liftoff.
“Hallo, süßes mädchen.” König said simply. You could tell his eyes creased slightly behind his hood. A small gesture that he was happy to see you. He fidgeted lightly with a sheathed knife, his leg bouncing as he thought. Despite not being able to see his face, he looked handsome. Maybe it was something in his eyes, or the way his shoulders rested on the seats of the small plane. You wouldn’t dare tell him, but you thought he looked gorgeous. As you were about to pipe up and talk to him, a voice rang in through your headpiece.
“Listen up, kids. We got something simple for you today, and I know it’s just the two of you. We’re dropping you by a small building near a forested area, it’s said to contain some bioweapons in a basement lab that we gotta take possession of. Do not split up at any time. Do you copy?”
“Copy, Captain.” You chimed.
“Copy.” König added.
“Alright. Trust each other, come back in one piece. I’ll have some folk in touch if you run into trouble. Out.” The radio buzzed out. You looked back to König again, his leg bouncing faster and his gloved fingers playing with the hem of his hood.
“Are you nervous, König?” You asked sweetly. You didn’t want to make fun of him, you never did. But you could see the fear in his eyes from what people had said before, his eyebrows shifting defensively before he remembered who he was talking to. You and König don’t go way far back, but you had known him for a few months and you had been nothing but kind. You’ve talked to him without minding his pauses to think, you’ve stayed up late to help him with paperwork or talk through his feelings, you’ve gone to lunch with him so he wouldn’t feel so lonely, in all honesty… you’ve done a lot for him. He had a deep appreciation for you that he never spoke about, but he knew it was there, and that it was possibly even something more than platonic gratitude.
“Hmm… not really.” He paused for a moment. “I have faith in our little team, very much so! I’d just hate for you to get hurt when only I can help you, kleine maus. I’m not very good at playing the medic.” He laughed nervously.
“I won’t get hurt, I promise.” Your eyes met König’s as you spoke, his gaze softening at your promise. You don’t have a clue, but he would do anything to protect you. “How far out?” You called to your pilot.
“Bout’ 25 minutes, ma’am!” He called back. You thanked him as you stood up, walking across the small gap to sit beside your teammate. He turned his head towards you, his hands dropping to his thighs and his leg calming. You made pleasant small conversation for the rest of the ride, both simply enjoying the presence of the other.
————
When you arrived at the site, you never would've expected it to be a place with biological weapons. In fact, you even wondered if you were dropped at the right location. From what you could see, the site was just a humble wooden house in the forest, almost like a cabin. Its yard and landscaping were neglected, the paths to the door becoming overgrown and the wildflowers taking over the areas beside the porch. König took the path in front of you, his rifle at his side and his large body pushing up to the door and opening it by force. The pilot and his plane took off behind you, leaving you and König to clear the building and search for information for a good while before he would return.
You marveled at the way that you and König could work together. König was a trailblazer, a spearhead. He pushed from room to room, opening doors by force and shooting first. He dropped bodies everywhere he walked, and it amazed you that the soft spoken, shy boy you knew from the plane was put on hold. It was his job, after all. König was working. You two pointed in different directions, backs nearly pressed together, becoming a beautiful dance of bullets and coming out practically unscathed.
With his knife in one hand and a heartbeat monitor in his other, König announced. “Clear!” A body dropping to the ground beside him as his knife returned to its sheath. You followed quickly behind him, holstering your pistol as you walked.
“The basement.” You reminded. “Where is it? Did you find the door?”
“Mmhmm.” He hummed. “Over here, liebling.” He nodded his head to his left. The lighting that emitted from under the door was different from the warm white of the house, almost a cool blue, like aggressive fluorescent lights. He hesitantly walked over to it, slowly turning the handle as you both got your guns out once more. The door creaked open eerily, “Me first.” König stated.
He ducked to get into the stairway, you following only steps behind him. He rounded the corner sharply, pointing his gun in the direction of any possible movement. There were only two people there, a woman and a white coat with her hands up in the air, and a man in all black gear with a gun pointed right at you. König didn’t think twice as he shot the man, his heavy body dropping to the floor with a thud. You and König moved forward to the woman.
“On the ground.” You prompted. She obeyed, getting on her knees with a wince and leaving her hands where they could be seen. König walked a few feet away to take a glance at one of the many computers set up in the room. He leaned down slightly, silently observing a laptop with a blue and white screen. Files illuminated its display, and König only grazed his eyes over them in curiosity. The computer work was your job, after all. You kept your gun pointed at the woman, only looking over at your partner for a few seconds to see what he was doing.
The woman saw her opportunity. She picked up an unmarked grenade off of the ground near her, pulled its pin and threw it at König as fast as possible. A guttural scream left your throat, a bullet instinctively blowing into her brain as you panicked with the most terrifying thoughts. König’s eyes widened as the grenade dropped to his feet. Rather than an explosion, the grenade simply leaked a pinkish substance from a few holes in its base, almost gas-like. As soon as he noticed it wasn’t going to explode, König picked it up and threw it up the stairs. The pink haze remained around him, his chest heaving as he attempted to calm himself down from his panicked thoughts of mortality.
“König, König!” You rushed over to him, a hand placing onto his chest as you pushed him into another room within the basement. He stumbled backward slightly, catching himself on a door frame as you backed him into the room and opened the door for him. It had no people, no gasses, it was just a simple single office. The lights were back to being a warm beige color. It had a few computers on one desk together, filing cabinets, a few desk chairs, a small fan in the corner, and a few little areas with bookshelves or plants. “It’s okay! I’m right here, you’re okay. I promise.” You assured König as you walked with him. You shut and locked the door behind you, placing your partner slowly down onto a plush desk chair across from the main desk. His wide eyes looked up at you, petrified.
“Oh Scheiße, was ist das? Was passiert mit mir Liebling?” He spoke quickly in his native tongue. You felt so horrible, letting something like that happen to him. You could tell how much his anxiety was beginning to affect him, his ability to speak English practically fleeting, and his words beginning to slur together ever so slightly. You attempted to give him space, but his hands flew to your waist as he panicked. “No! Don’t go-” The look in his eyes tugged at something in your heart. He looked miserable, like he was so helpless he could almost cry.
That’s when you knew something was very wrong, König was far from helpless. You’d seen him destroy foes moments ago and how his eyes were pooling at the sight of you.
“I’m not going anywhere, König. I just need to take a look at their files, okay? I need to figure out what they threw at you. I’ll be right here. I’ll never leave you.” You assure. He nodded, his breaths calming as he let go of you slowly. The lack of your body made him antsy, the feeling of your body heat in his hands mysteriously making his ache from the gas relieve. He shut his eyes and let his head drop, heavy breaths leaving his covered lips.
You moved to the other side of the desk, punching in an access code to their computers as you desperately searched their files. The screen illuminated with documents, hundreds of reports and tests written out in front of you. You scrolled past what your captain wanted you to find, your mind only being set on König. You needed to help him. He is what you cared about, fuck the mission.
“Will I die?” König muttered while staring down into his lap, almost too quiet for you to hear. Almost like he was asking himself.
“No! No, I will NOT let you die.” You typed furiously as you sifted through the files on all the lab's projects, past and future. Until you landed on one… Project Cupid. The title page included a blueprint and prototype of the exact grenade thrown at König. Your eyes sifted over the lab report, hoping for an idea of what he was going through.
“Es ist so heiß hier drin… it’s so hot-” He whined. He threw off his vest, rolled up his sleeves, and took off his helmet and gloves. His hands shook as he attempted to relieve himself of his discomfort, his sorry attempts proving useless to the crawling in his skin. “I can’t take it, maus… lass mich dich noch einmal berühren…” He begged from behind his hood, his hips shifting in the seat you had placed him in. His native tongue caused his voice to rasp, he was almost growling as he spoke. He threw his head back, his eyes tracing the lines of the ceiling.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I’m trying.” You urged. You read the symptoms, the outcomes, just anything that it could do to him. It was a sex bomb. A pheromonal gas. König was squirming and sweating out of his mind. Being this way wouldn’t kill him, but you could tell he was uncomfortable. His chest was heaving, his forearms were sticking to the chair, and as you suspected, a painfully prominent tent was in his pants. “Holy shit…” You whispered.
“What? What?” He asked as his view shot back to you. “What is it?” He looked at you with desperation, his eyes begging behind his hood.
“You… you won’t die, König. You’re being affected by a pheromonal gas. It’s gonna feel really hot, you’re gonna be pretty uncomfortable, and you’re probably pretty… aroused?” You attempted to explain. König groaned.
“Oh fuck-” He began. “I’m so sorry, maus. Fuck- I never should’ve let this happen. I’m so- ahhh- Es tut mir leid. I should've been more careful…” He moved his hips lazily as he spoke, the friction from his pants alone almost causing him to moan. You looked at him from across the desk, his eyes squeezing shut with every movement and his hands going white-knuckled on the arms of the chair. The reports told you exactly what you needed to know. You knew he was gonna be like this for a while, especially if you don't help him.
But you couldn't. Not when the reports explicitly told you he wouldn't be thinking straight soon.
“Everything is okay! We’ll get you through this, König. How about you lay down on the ground for a second? It’ll be colder down there.” You moved from your spot at the desk and placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. He tensed at the touch, his teeth clenching as he tried not to make a sound. Even a touch as small as that, a simple graze to his clothed shoulder, he wanted to tear your clothes off and fuck your brains out.
“O- of course. Yes… I’ll do that.” He got up slowly, his legs weakly carrying him as he made his way to lay in the middle of the room, his large body relaxing against the cool concrete floor. He was still breathing heavily, and you could still see that sweat was trailing down his forearms. His back relaxed against the floor, his face looking upwards at the ceiling. The lights danced in his vision, his mind hazed with lust.
You felt bad, so bad. But there wasn’t entirely anything you could do, you knew his headspace wasn’t entirely clear and he didn’t want to do anything that either of you would regret. “Is that better?” You asked. You stood a few feet away from him, looking down on him.
He trailed his big hands along the black athletic pullover that he always wore under his gear, quickly undoing the zipper and pulling it over his head. It took a bit of his hood with it, revealing his open mouth and a part of his nose. What you could see was stunning. Scattered stubble, soft lips, faded scars. Shockingly, König didn’t care that part of his face was showing, or maybe he didn’t even notice. His chest was bare and toned, the sweat and scars together making a gorgeous view. His stomach didn't present as all abs, he still cutely supported a soft belly. “So heiß…” He simply responded.
“What was that?” You asked.
“It’s so… fucking… hot.” He panted. You nodded, briskly walking over to the fan in the corner of the room and turning it onto high as a last resort. You looked around, looking for anything else that could help him. “Please… please help me, schöne taube. Let me touch you again.” He sat up from his position, his hood falling back down. He backed himself into a wall, the cool paint pressing onto his back and forcing a moan from his lips. You walked over to him, not quite understanding what he meant.
“Does that help you, König? Do you feel better when you hold me?” You hadn't read that this would help him in the reports, but you really did desperately want to help him. You hated seeing him like this, this distressed and distraught state. You held out your hand to him. He grabbed your it with greed, pulling you down onto your knees to be with him on the floor. His mind was moving faster than his mouth, his lips babbling on as he pulled you into him. You rested next to him, your thigh touching his. He placed his hands along your arm, holding it gently and placing your hand on his clothed cheek, beginning to run it down his chest.
“So much better… so sehr… please, please- I need to touch you more. Please. I need to feel your skin against mine, schöne. Fuckkk- I need you!” König babbled. You could see his hips moving, his cock aching within his pants. He attempted to drag your hand down to the tent, but you sharply pulled away.
“König, I can’t. I can't touch you… like that, I’m sorry. I know you’re not thinking clearly… I can’t do that to you when you may not really want it.” You spoke, bringing your hand back up to hold his cheek. He whined at the touch, his own hand dipping between his legs to press down on where they met. He looked into your eyes, sweetly, and let out the most beautiful moan you had ever heard.
“Scheiße, bitte, ich meine es ernst! I’ve wanted you since I met you, mein schatz. Please, pleaseee. Fuck, fuck- just fuck me, I beg of you! I ache, I need you. I promise I really want you. I want you so bad!” König continued his begging as he clawed at his belt, his ungloved hands easily undoing it. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry I can't take it-” König quietly realized that he might've sounded ridiculous.
You looked down at his tented pants, and back up to his eyes. You nodded at him. He was serious, something about his eyes told you so. It was all coming back to you now. The way he would relax into you when you sat next to him, when he would laugh with you at lunch, when he would ask you out for drinks between just the two of you, even when he would reach the top shelves for you. He liked you. Damnit, he might just love you. “Just promise me you won’t regret this later.” You pleaded.
König lifted his hood and threw it off of his head. His eyes met yours as he sighed with the relief of showing you his whole face. His eyebrows were knit together, his eyes showing a needy side of him you never thought you’d see. “I could never regret anything with you, kleine maus.” He grabbed you by the waist once more, bringing you onto his lap. One of his hands flew up to the back of your head, making a fistful of hair and pulling you into a messy kiss. You gave in instantly, your whine being muffled by his own.
The way he handled you… you could feel a wave of lust take over your body. His hands ran down your body, his fingertips trailing and tracing every part of you that he could as he muttered his gratitude to you. He tugged at your shirt, undoing the tuck you had done so perfectly in the morning. His hands ran into the bare skin of your stomach, a happy groan coming from his throat. “Oh god… thank you so much, maus. Your skin- mein gott. It’s like heaven.” Your hands shot to the side of his face, your kiss deepening as you pressed your chests together. König’s hands pulled your shirt upwards, your arms lifting to allow him to fling it somewhere in the room.
His hips still needily rutted against yours, your mind slipping from sane thoughts every time you felt his hard cock brush up and down against you. With every kiss, you felt like you were about to break, and he did too. He felt horrible, he knew he wasn't properly preparing you. Normally, he would have laid you out and stretched you with his fingers and wetted you with his tongue… but this was no normal occasion.
You moved your hands away from his face to tug at your belt, removing it and tossing it behind you. König noticed, his hands falling from your stomach to the hem of your pants. He nudged at the button, undoing it and sliding your pants off of you while you helped him. Except for your underwear and boots, you were bare for him. You had never been this exposed to him before, and the look on his face told you he couldn't be more excited.
Gently, König slipped a set of two fingers down past the lip of your panties. His half-lidded eyes met yours, praise seeping from his lips as he grazed your soaking pussy and pressed his fingers lightly onto your clit. “Oh je, du hübsches Mädchen! Do you want me this bad? This is for me? Danke~ you're so good for me.” He practically growled into your ear. You nodded at him in response, your head resting on his shoulder as he sank his fingers in. “Perfect, my love.” He groaned. “Mmm, I’m gonna fuck you so good. Would you like that, sweetheart?”
Fuck, you didn't know he would be so vocal like this. Maybe it was the added hormones talking, but you loved it either way. As you desperately reached down to König’s pants, he drug his fingers out of you and placed them into his mouth. He hummed against the taste, his eyes admiring you pulling down his pants like you'd die without feeling him. He watched your eyes widen as you met with his hard cock, and he knew this would happen. He wasn't just impressive in the field or in the height department. “K- König I-” You began.
“Shhhh, kleine maus. I know, I know you can take me. C'mere, let me help you, please.” König’s hands traveled along your hips, bringing them to hover over his cock. Even under the influence of a hormonal drug, he cared. He looked up at you, a softness in his eyes as he used one hand to line himself up with your cunt. “Deep breath, love.” He instructed, his thick tip poking at your entrance before it slipped into place within you. You let out a strangled moan as you felt the burning stretch of his cock. Konig stopped begging as much now, he knew he had you. You were whining desperately as he spread you apart.
“Holy shit, König! Oh fuck- God, you're so big-” You whined, König’s arms continuing to push you down onto him. The feeling gave a subtle burn, your muscles tensing and trying to relax. He gave you a soft smile, wrapping his arms around you and hugging your waist as your hips pressed back into his, closing the distance and pressing him deep inside. You hugged him back, your arms resting on the top of his broad shoulders. His hips desperately shifted upwards, begging to fuck into you.
After a few moments of deep sighs and adjustment, you told him you were ready and his hands returned to your waist. He lifted you with ease, his strong arms guiding you to bounce up and down and coat this thick cock with your juices. “Heilige scheiße! You’re so good- you… you feel so good!” He pleaded. “Danke, mein leibling!”
He looked at you in amazement, his hands traveling up to take off your bra as you rode him at a slow pace. He flung it somewhere in the room, his hands on your tits and his fingertips digging into them with need. He looked hypnotized, watching your pussy engulf his huge cock in a way he thought no one could. You cured his ache so well, he just wanted to destroy you. He wanted to fuck you so hard you couldn't think. He wanted to claim you from the inside and ruin you for any other man. You're his. His dick still ached inside of you, his sensitive head hitting the most perfect spots inside you as he craved more.
“Please, can I please take control of you? I need it, baby. I need to fuck you my way. I need to ruin you, schöne taube.” König’s grip back on your waist tightened as he waited for your answer. You felt his sweaty chest against yours, your bodies sticking together. It made you whine, your nesitive nipples grazing against the rough of his chest.
“Please…” You begged. “I need you, König. I need you so deep and strong and-” Before you could even finish, König had flipped the two of you, Your back pressed against the chilled floor, your thighs folded into your stomach as König placed your legs on his shoulders. His hands pressed on the back of your thighs, shoving and manipulating them into the position he wanted to ruin you in. You moaned loudly as he slammed deep into you, a penetrating force so strong you could almost cry. “König! Fuck, you're so good!” You yelped.
König was deep in his drunken haze, his hands pushing your squishy thighs back so he could fuck you deeper. He fucked you with a much faster pace now, the sound of your skin meeting echoing as you whined helplessly beneath him. He traced his hand down to your clit, his thumb tracing lightly along your nerves. “Oh, ja, scheiße! Take me, sweetheart. Take me, take me, take me!”
He leaned down, a soft kiss being placed on your lips to contrast the rough fuck he was giving you. Your eyes rolled back in your head as you tightened down on him, his big hips continuing to fuck through the tightness. His aching flared again, his cock twitching as he fucked you. God, he needed to cum so badly. He needed to cum so badly this whole time. Ever since he took a breath of that drug, he laid his eyes on you and imagined fucking you into oblivion. Hell, he imagined it long before that. He imagined it alone in his room after long nights drinking with you, or even on days when you only said a single word to him.
You brought your hands up to his face, holding his soft cheeks and looking into his eyes as you spoke. “Do you wanna cum for me, König? You're doing so good for me.” You smiled at your subtle tease, his eyes melting as you spoke. It was like you had just read his mind. You went on a limb that he would like what you said, but he confirmed that by fucking into you faster. He let out growls and grunts with every thrust, throwing away the idea of embarrassment and anxiety and embracing the hormonal drug running through him. His thrusts began slipping, your walls tightening down harder on him as you chased release too.
“Mmm…schatz, I’m going to cum! Can I cum for you?” He groaned, his sloppy thrusts becoming unpredictable. Your cunt spazzed around him, your juices coating him further as your back arched in unimaginable pleasure. You felt the coil in your stomach snap, a scream of König’s name leaving your lips as he drug his cock out of you. As you laid out on the floor, spent and breathless, König sat on his knees above you and wrapped his hand around his cock. He stroked himself with urgency, his head flying back as he groaned your name. “Oh hübsches Mädchen, du fickst mich so gut!” Your wetness coated his cock and his hand, cum quickly shooting from the tip of his dick and landing beautifully on your stomach.
König slumped back against the wall, his hand returning to his side and his chest rising and falling with his heavy breaths. He looked around for his shirt, leaning over to get it and making it into a ball, whispering to you as he made his attempt to clean you up. “Danke… you were so good to me. I’ve wanted you like that for so long.” He mumbled. “What would I do without you?” He asked. You giggled, your hand reaching to hold König’s. He smiled at you. You both took a moment to breathe, collecting your clothes, putting the back on, and gathering the data you had been sent for.
You leaned over the lab computers, plugging in a flash drive as König called in and requested evac. As you typed, König walked up behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist. His masked cheek pressed against your back. “Can we please cuddle when we get back to base, maus?” He mumbled, squeezing you gently.
“Absolutely, König.”
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d0youc0py · 2 months
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I’ve been seeing so much ex husband price stuff on here and it’s making me drool. So I’m contributing some ex husband/not divorced yet but taking a break for vague reasons but you both still deeply love each other TF 141….Also this is sappy, dramatic and not accurate character portrayal—just let me live in denial!
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“Johnathan, it’s 1 am.” You groaned, trying to rub the sleep from your eyes.
“Go back to bed, Honey.” He muttered back quickly. You shot him a glare at the term of endearment. He was balancing a flashlight between his teeth, his back mostly turned to you.
“Are you fixing that window?” You questioned, turning on the overhead light. He must’ve not wanted to wake you. He took the flashlight out of his mouth, looking over his shoulder at you. His chest swelled at the sight of you in one of his shirts. It took every ounce of self restraint not to wrap you up in his arms. “I told you over the phone I hired someone to come and fix it.” You yawned.
“And have some stranger traipsing through the house.” He huffed. You watched as his arms flexed at even the slightest movements. You hated these moments of weakness. It was the same reason why you couldn’t fall asleep unless you were wearing one of his shirts. Or the same reason you would light a cigar like it was incense. The same reason why you always answered his daily calls. Then you’d remember why you wanted a divorce in the first place. It always felt like someone dumping cold water on you.
And thats exactly how you felt now.
“That’s not your problem anymore, John.” You reminded. His blood ran cold. Yet he kept up his unbothered appearance.
“Never a problem, Honey.” He assured, still keeping his back to you. You sighed running a hand over your face.
“I just- I don’t think it’s appropriate for you to just show up whenever you want. It’s my house right? That’s what you agreed to. It’s not just some motel you can show up at whenever you want to feel needed.” You spat. His body was still and ridged. His teeth ached from the tight clenching of his jaw and the pain in his chest was wince worthy.
“I know.” He said slowly. “I just want you to know I’ll always take care of you, Honey.” He began to turn towards you but stopped himself. He couldn’t stand to see the look on your face.
“I don’t need you to take care of me, John.” You continued. “I was able to survive before you and when you left me every other month.” You don’t know why you were being so forceful with him. Maybe it was because you hadn’t physically seen him in a few weeks.
“Well maybe I’m not doing it for you, hmm?” He shot back, finally facing you. His eyes were just as red the day you walked out of the lawyers office. “You made your decision, but that doesn’t mean you just stopped being the most important thing in my life. So yeah, I’m going to drop by if I feel I need to because I vowed to always take care of you and no fucking paper you make me sign is going to take that away from me. If you don’t like that you can get a restraining order.”
He didn’t even have a moment to catch his breath before your hands found their way to his shoulders, pulling him down for a kiss.
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“Hey, Cap.” You smiled into your phone. Calls from Price were kinda common- he just liked to check up on you here and there, but you could tell by the sigh on the other end this wasn’t going to be about you.
“Hey, Kiddo.” He started. “I catch you at a good time?” He questioned.
“Yeah, just watching TV. Everything alright?” You questioned back. There was another sigh on his end, and it sounded like he was taking a drag of his cigar.
“No one’s hurt.” He was trying to pick his words carefully. “It’s ’bout Simon, though.”
“Okay.” You responded slowly. Just the mention of Simon’s name had a small tremor rise in your body. It’s not like you had gone no-contact with him. He called you a few times a week just to ask if you needed anything, if anything in the flat needed to be fixed, or just to make sure you locked all the windows before going to sleep. “You’re building up a lot of suspense here, Cap.” You offered a fake chuckle.
“Sorry.” He paused again and you wanted to rip your hair out. “He’s just- I know it’s really none of my business what happened between the two of you but he’s not doing good, Love.”
“What do you mean?”
“He’s doing fine work-wise. But I’m worried about him personally. He’s droppin’ weight, smoking a couple packs a day, drinkin’ when he knows he’s not suppose to be. When he’s not doing that he just sits and stares. Johnny has to check his pulse sometimes.” It was his turn to offer you a chuckle. Another pause and drag. A few fat tears rolled down your cheeks and Price ran a hand over his face when he heard you sniffle. “I’m sorry to be the one to tell you this, but I also know you would get after me if I didn’t. Now you don’t owe him anything, but I think just a call from you would help him out a lot.”
“You think he’s doing this because of me?” You whispered.
“Course.” Price responded immediately. He cringed at himself. “What I mean to say is, you’re that man’s ‘reason.’ You get what I’m saying? Men like me and him need a reason. A reason to come home. A reason to be better. A reason to just get our asses out of bed at the crack of dawn. Like I said you don’t owe him anything, Kiddo, but I think just hearing your voice would do him some good.”
“Thank you, Price. For looking out for him and me.” You said sincerely.
“It’s what I get paid for.” He shot back with a laugh. You rolled your eyes, pressing the big red button after a ‘goodbye’. Your swollen eyes raked over the wedding photos you still had hanging in the living room. You couldn’t not call him. You wondered how long he’d been acting like this. Had he been doing it the whole time you had been separated? You rubbed at your eyes working up the courage to press his contact in your phone.
It only rang once before he answered.
“You alright?” He asked quickly.
“Yeah.” You replied, taking a deep breath. “Just calling to check in.” You said slowly. You heard him breathe a sigh of relief.
“Checkin’ in on me?” He repeated. Your heart ached at the thought that he seemed to think you didn’t care about him.
“That okay?” You urged. He hummed in agreement. “If your busy I can call bac”-
“Not busy.” He cut off. “What’ve you been up to?” You heard some shuffling and it sounded like he was getting into bed. You wondered what time it was wherever he was in the world.
“Nothing too interesting. I got a new cat! She’s an older tabby who’s seen some things, but she’s a Sweetheart.” You rambled on smiling.
“She probably thinks she’s in heaven with you.” He snickered. You giggled at his words and his eyes shut tightly trying to soak up every second of it.
“Simon, is there anyway when you get back you could help me move in a new cat tower? They’re all fighting over the one we have.” Using the word ‘we’ had just become habit when talking to Simon. You didn’t even realize you had said it. But you using that word was all the ‘reason’ he needed.
“Of course. I’ll be home Wednesday. That work for you?” His heart was beating out of his chest like it did the very first time he asked you out on a date.
“That’s perfect. I’ll see you then, Si.”
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*inaccurate medical rules*
Your leg bounced up and down nervously, your eyes about to burn a hole in the pale blue curtain. You were in an accident- not a major one, but you did receive a concussion.
Johnny was still your emergency contact and according to the nurses he was more than willing to pick you up.
“He’s not entirely my husband.” You began. The nurse raised his eyes from the clipboard for a split second before shrugging.
“Says it in your file and he’s still your emergency contact. He’s already on his way, but do you have anyone else we could call?” His tone was bored and you wondered how many times he had to have this conversation a day. You slowly shook your head. “Well we can’t just let you leave by yourself.” He sighed.
“I know, but I filed for divorce. He just refuses to sign it. Doesn’t that count for anything?” You pleaded. The nurse gave you a sour look.
“I can change your emergency contact so in future accidents he won’t be contacted.” You furrowed your brows at his choice of words.
“Hopefully there won’t be anymore accidents.” Your body stiffened at the all too familiar voice. The curtain was drawn back revealing your husband. He gave you a soft smile and you hated the way it settled your stomach.
“Yeah right, so change your emergency contact or no?” The nurse piqued up. You shut your eyes tightly, shaking your head side to side. You wished the floor would swallow you. The nurse looked between you and Johnny before giving you two some privacy.
“I’m sorry about all this, John.” You sighed standing up. “They wouldn’t let me leave without someone signing for me. If you could just walk me out, I can call an Uber.”
“John?” He repeated, in a whisper. It was probably just intended for himself. His chest tightened. No nicknames. He partly hoped that this experience would’ve softened you. Made you happy to be alive. Make you want to wrap your arms around him and call off the whole ‘divorce’ thing. He can picture all the times you sprawled out on his chest, whispering into his skin how safe you felt with him. Now here you were inching yourself away from him like he would ever hurt you. “I’d rather take you home.” He pressed.
“It’s seriously okay John”-
“Enough with the formalities.” He snipped. Your eyes widened and he groaned at his mistake. “You’re discounting everything we’ve been through together. Treating me like some stranger.” He growled out.
“Well what am I suppose to do? Hmm? You want me to call you ‘Mac’ again. Or any of the other ridiculous nicknames I made up for you? Well I’m not going to do that! You were good to me for so many years, Johnny- please don’t think I have forgotten that. But this last year it’s like I haven’t even existed to you. You’re taking every single job that is thrown your way like you don’t even want to be with me anyone, so I’m just doing what you do obviously want but aren’t going to say.” Your voice shook and tears dropped from your eyes, but you held your ground. His jaw clenched tightly, his eyes red from holding back what you had already given up hiding.
“You think I want this? I”-
“Hey, as much as this has been the highlight of my week, we actually need your bed back.” The nurse interrupted, peaking his head through the curtains. Your flushed but nodded your head in understanding. Johnny was hot on your trail following you out. The cold air felt nice against your heated body and you turned to Johnny waiting for him to make the first step.
“I’m sorry for gettin’ on you in there.” He sighed. He shifted on his feet. “I just miss you.” His eyes refused to meet yours knowing it would cause him to break. He opened and closed his mouth trying to find the words to how desperately he wanted you in his life.
“For a man who loves to talk you sure are having a hard time.” You sniffled, wiping at your still streaming eyes.
That was all he needed to let it out. It was sloppy and unfiltered, but yet it shattered your world and everything you thought you knew about the man and how he felt about you.
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You saw him at the store. It wasn’t the first time you had run into him- actually you two seemed to be bumping into each other all over the place. And without hesitation every single time he would flee the scene like you were some bully from high school he ran into. The same thing happened tonight. You both turned into the same aisle, stared at each other for a moment, then he dropped his basket and charged out the door.
You had already made up your mind weren’t going to let him go this easy.
You rushed after him, at a speed walk pace.
“Kyle!” You shouted after him in the parking lot. He was just opening the door to his sleek black car, one of his feet inside already. He paused for a moment, before sliding into the drivers seat. You were able to grab the door handle before he shut it on you.
“What the fuck are you doing?!” He growled, beginning to tug the door back. Your hand gripped the car door and he quickly faltered not wanting to slam it shut on your fingers.
“Just let me talk, please?” You begged. Those same brown eyes that you had spent the best part of your life staring into bore coldly into yours. “I just- We keep running into each other. I just think it’s silly that we keep avoiding each other.”
“Not silly.” He shot back without missing a beat. “You don’t want me anymore, remember?” Your heart dropped.
“Ky, that’s not true”-
“Fucking save it, Y/N. You’re the one who wanted to take a break. Why don’t you just divorce me and get it over with already.” He spat. His face curled in a way that made you want to die.
“Is that what you want?” You asked quietly. He ran his hands up and down his face.
“I’m tired of your games, Lovie.” His voice held no warmth. “I want my partner back. The same person who I vowed to spend the rest of my life with. The same person I vowed to love and protect- but that person doesn’t even seem to be you anymore. I couldn’t imagine just cutting you out of my life the way you did to me. And the fact that you were able to do it fucking terrifies me. Just call me when you figure your shit out.”
He shut the door and you let him.
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