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#but i just wish he got what he deserved he deserved so much better. i hope he knows how much everyone loves him
homeofthelonelywriter · 11 hours
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Drawn to you | Pt. 6
(A/N) There we go. I'm so sorry about not posting last week. A lot came up and I didn't find the time to write anything. Also, I really enjoy writing human!Alastor, more so than I thought, so there's gonna be more of that.
Pairing: Alastor x bunny demon!Reader (no Y/N)
Warnings: murder...yep, sexism, nightmare, flashback
Synopsis: Will he finally remember you?
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6
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“Alastor?”
When did he fall asleep? As his eyes widened, he spun around and came face to face with Charlie. She looked concerned, one of her hands raised as if she was about to touch him, but hesitated.
“Ah, princess. What can I do for you?”
The demon got to his feet and swiped his clawed hands over his coat as if to smooth out any wrinkles. Now that he was standing, Charlie had to look up at him, a motion that had always given Alastor a feeling of power, but right now, all he could think about was you.
“I’m sorry for waking you. I just wanted to check in on the two of you and offer to give you a break. You’ve been in this room for days now.”
It’s true. He has been here for days. Watching you sleep and heal. Watching you slowly get better. And if he’s honest, it’s the only reason he hasn’t marched up to Valentino and beat him to pulp. So no, he didn’t want the princess to take over. He wouldn’t be able to take accountability for what happens if he leaves the room without you.
“Thank you, Charlie. I appreciate the offer, but I’d rather stay here.”
Her face fell, concern washing over it again. She opened her mouth, about to object, but a quiet whimper stopped her.
Alastor whipped around as soon as he heard the sound leave your lips and rushed to your bedside. You were thrashing around, your face distorted in fear. You were having a nightmare. Charlie joined Alastor at your side, but he quickly shooed her away, reasoning that the more people you saw once you woke up, the more you’d panic. She hesitated, but after a few seconds nodded and left the room.
The radio demon turned all his attention to you now, still battling with the blanket on top of you. He gently grabbed your shoulders and pushed you against the mattress, trying to keep you from hurting him or yourself.
“It’s okay dear, I’m here.”
He continued to hold you down while whispering nonsense, trying to break past the panic of what you were experiencing at that moment and reach you. And it worked. You suddenly went limp, another whimper leaving your lips, but this time it was his name…but…not really his name.
“Ali…”
He blinked once…twice…three, no four times, his eyes glazing over as memories came rushing back to him. New Orleans…the radio station…and suddenly he felt the humid heat against his skin, the sweat causing his glasses to slide down his nose and he pushed them back up again.
Earth - late 1910s
He stood before his workplace, the radio company where he took over the late airings. With his usual smile, he entered the well-air-conditioned building and made his way up to the offices, on a mission to find his favorite coworker.
He quickly spotted her, shoulders slumped as she read over a page. His cheerful smile lost most of its cheer, no longer reaching his eyes as he gazed upon her back. She deserved so much more than working for thankless, egotistical men who couldn’t appreciate her genius.
With quick steps, he closed the distance between himself and her and placed his hands over her eyes, his grin returning to it’s usual brightness.
“Guess who?”
The chuckle that escaped her lips made his heart beat faster, a soft blush covering his cheeks. It was the loveliest sound he’d ever heard and at the same he wished to keep that sound to himself, he wanted to broadcast it to the entire world.
“Oh, Samantha, is that you?”
His shoulders shook as a bubbly laugh escaped his lips. He rarely laughs, but with her, it felt natural. He leaned down slightly until he could whisper into her ear.
“Would you prefer it being Samantha?”
She shook her head and Alastor lowered his hands, as the woman spun around in her chair, smiling at him. And…it was you. He finally recognized you.
“Now, how is my favorite lady doing?”
Gently, he took a hold of your right hand, guiding it to his lips to press a quick kiss against your knuckles, while you rolled your eyes. You always did but he still insisted on the gesture. After all, it was one of the only places he could kiss. At least for now.
“Ah, you know, same old, same old. Got my work done within two hours, wrote down my concept for the day and it’s not even lunchtime, got yelled at by boss-man once again,-”
As soon as you mentioned your boss, his eyes hardened and he glared at the office door that hid the fat man. If he could only kill him…maybe he would. In that moment he wondered how it felt to kill someone.
“Someone ought to take care of that bastard.”
Your eyes widened at his comment you raised your hands to cover his mouth. But he just chuckled and lowered them slowly.
“You can’t just say stuff like that. You’ll get fired.”
Alastor turned back to you with his signature smile. How adorble you were, always looking out for him.
“If I were to get fired for protecting you, it would be worth it.”
He watched a light blush cover your cheeks. You lowered your head to hide it, but he still noticed. Of course he did, he noticed everything about you. That coy smile you were wearing right now. Your favorite perfume that he could always smell on you. How you always seemed to sit up straighter when he was near. And the excitment in your eyes when you see him.
Alastor chuckled again, before carefully ruffling through your hair, making sure not to destroy your hairdo too much. You started to complain, but before the first word could even slip past your lips, he had stopped and instead started to fix the mess he had made. Then he turned back to you.
“So, what’s on your agenda today?”
You reached for the pieces of paper on your desk and went through them, Alastor listening intently and taking notes in his head. He loved your ideas and often used them during his broadcast. Especially topics he knew you were passionate about.
“Congress is supposed to vote on the 19th amendment in a few days. I really hope it gets signed.”
Alastor nodded. He’d definitely have to mention that, especially after you turned to look at him with that sparkle in your eyes. He smiled, he loved that side of you. Excited and passionate. Something he rarely found in the women around him, something that drew him even closer to you.
His thoughts were interrupted when his name was called across the office space. He looked up and saw his boss waving him over. His eyes flickered to you and he saw the disappointment in them. And he understood it all too well, himself being annoyed that he had to leave you.
“Gotta run, will you tune in tonight?”
Knowing his boss didn’t like to be kept waiting, Alastor started to walk away while still facing you.
“I always do.”
Once again his heart fluttered at your words, a giant grin spreading across his lips before he turned and ran towards his boss who was already looking annoyed. As soon as Alastor was close enough, the other man started walking, keeping silent until they were out of the office.
“Well, is she your girl?”
Alastor looked at his boss, confusion plain on his face, but shook his head once the other man confirmed he was talking about you.
“Hm…in that case…maybe I’ll call her into my office then. You know, get to it. She’s a real cutie.”
Alastor would never admit it. He usually was more careful with his killings, but at the moment he saw red.
With a strained smile, he asked his boss if he’d like to go out for a smoke, his treat of course. Once the man agreed, Alastor led him out the back door, where no one ever was, and distracted him long enough for the radio host to grab a loose brick and whack him over the back of his head. It was enough to knock him out, but that wasn’t enough. If he could have, Alastor would have beaten the man to a pulp, but he couldn’t get any blood on his person, so he instead decided to use his belt to strangle him to death.
Once he was sure the man was dead, he got to his feet, breathing heavily while his lips slowly pulled into a wicked grin. Oh, how good that felt. He only wished he could’ve watched the panic in his eyes while he died.
Still, Alastor’s mind quickly returned to the task at hand. He had just killed someone in the alley behind where he worked. He’s not sure, but there was a possibility, that others saw them leaving together and then he’d be done for. His mind was racing as he thought of what to do. He had to stage the scene, that much was obvious, but how?
Burglary.
He quickly reached into his boss’s pants and pulled out his wallet, removing all the cash before dropping the empty wallet next to the body. Next, he removed the large, gold ring from the man’s little finger, as well as his pocket watch. The last touch was taking off the man’s belt and wrapping it around his neck in place of his own, just so that the police would think that it was used to murder him and not search for another one.
Once done, he stepped back, a proud smile on his lips as he pocketed the objects he had just taken. He could use those to remember this. His first kill. But surely not his last.
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Hazbin Hotel - Masterlist
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about-faces · 6 hours
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I'm still loving Gotham Nocturne and I wish it was getting the love/respect/attention is deserves. I've spoken several people who haven't been reading the current Detective Comics run because they're Batmanned Out (good lord, do I get it) and they see it as just another attempt at some kind of "ultimate Batman story with Batman fighting the ultimate evil," which I strongly disagree with.
THAT SAID... as time has gone on, and the story seems to be reaching its finale, there are a few things that stand out of me as problems with this epic storyline.
1.) It's one of the most egregious examples of "writing for the trade paperback." This simply isn't a story that's meant to be read month-to-month. It's too slow, with too little "happening," at least on the superficial level. Paradoxically, it's NOT a story that should be binged! The best comparison that comes to mind is Better Call Saul, since that's the only other example of serialized media that's meticulously slow-paced yet INCREDIBLY RICH for those willing to engage with it on its level rather than expecting it to be Breaking Bad (or in Nocturne's case, a typical Batman story.) Ram V is capable of writing super-engaging monthly issues, as the fantastic Rare Flavours proves, but that brings us to...
2.) The story is sprawling. Maybe even TOO sprawling. When it comes to people who are sick of Batman, I try to sell them on the fact that this story is about GOTHAM AS A WHOLE, right down to the villains who call it home, and how everyone there is as intrinsically a part of Gotham as Batman is. But ensemble stories like that are tricky, and it makes the focus feel all over the place at times, with alternately too much and too little attention being paid to the main players, Batman included. It's a balance that was handled beautifully with Batman: The Audio Adventures, but it seems a bit more awkward here. Again, it's hard to pull off!
Like, we have characters pop up and then vanishing without explanation. We got Azrael back in the AzBats armor for the first time in decades, like, holy shit! That should be a HUGE development! And then, poof, he vanished! There's simply no time to explore Jean-Paul's character because there's so many other things the narrative needs to explore.
This feels like it would have really benefited from a companion series, something to focus on the characters the way the backup stories have done, but just more so. I think about how Peter Tomasi would write companion books to the main big storylines written by Geoff Johns, Grant Morrison, and Scott Snyder, and how he'd focus on character, which always enriched the greater "big important storyline." Which, in turn, also brings me to...
3.) The backup stories have really lost a lot of their punch since they stopped being written by Si Spurrier and were taken over by Dan Watters. Watters is incredibly capable, make no mistake, and his Cheshire/Lian Harper story is one of my favorite parts of this entire saga. But by and large, his tales focus more on the spooky and weird sides of what's happening with Nocturne, whereas Spurrier's stories were more focused on characters navigating the weirdness of the events. As a result, Spurrier gave us what I consider to be some of the very best stories about Jim Gordon, Harvey Dent, and Victor Fries ever written. I really miss those, and how they enriched Ram V's (possibly overly-ambitious) narrative.
Ultimately, Gotham Nocturne feels like the Batman equivalent to an arthouse film, which means it's going to be appreciated by a handful of nerds while leaving most other fans cold, and I can't really blame them. If anything makes me sad about all this, it's how all this incredible character work with Bruce, Harvey, Victor, Talia, and others is going to be ignored. Hell, it already is, given the complete lack of acknowledgement we've seen in other Bat-books for what's going on in Nocturne.
At this point, I just hope it sticks the landing in the finale, because I want to be able to have a complete, satisfying epic to recommend to people who want something a bit richer than the typical "guy in Bat costume punches clown" stories we usually get.
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x-liv25-jamieswife · 2 days
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Xan you pls so some nash sad headcanons?
of course<3. may be shorter than my other sad hcs cause i'm currently sick. i might make some more when i feel better. small, small trigger warning for suicidal thoughts, self harm, and tobias hawthorne. hope you enjoy!
he's obviously extremely protective of his brothers. so much that, when skye or tobias got mad at one of them, nash would convince them it was his fault so they wouldn't hurt his brothers' feelings
this is less of a head canon cause he mentioned this in tbh, but nash is convinced that everyone will someday leave him, and that he'll end up alone.
although tobias and skye hurt him a lot (verbally, they didn't hit him obviously), he had to pretend he was fine all of the time for his brothers. they thought he was a disappointment because he didn't act like a 'real' hawthorne. he didn't tell anyone.
the pressure he puts on himself sometimes becomes too much. so much that he's considered ending his life by jumping off of a bridge/overdosing on smth.
high school was extremely tough for him but no one knew. he felt like he had the world on his shoulders and couldn't speak to anyone about it. his grades would start going down (mind you, they were still great), and tobias would get mad at him. he'd try extra hard to succeed, and he did, but at the cost of his mental health
the reason why he has a savior complex is bc he wishes he could've saved his brothers from everything that tobias did to them. it became even worse after emily. he thinks it was his responsibility to warn them and help them. he know thinks he has to save everyone to make up for it.
nash thinks of himself as a complete failure. so much that sometimes simply looking in the mirror makes him cry.
this one will sound corny but he saves everyone but himself (he doesn't think he deserves to feel better)
he puts everyone's needs in front of his own. he sometimes doesn't eat, sleep, etc just to help his family. (he ended up in the hospital once cause he passed out due to malnutrition)
when nash was younger, he wanted his father in his life so badly he would go beg tobias to tell him his name. he wanted someone who would be there for him bc no one else was.
he used to think there was smth wrong with him bc he wasn't like his other brothers. at the same time, he knew it was partly bc he knew how messed up his grandfather was, but he still wished he could be like the others/accepted.
tobias used to tell him that he was extremely disappointed in him all the time. tobias wanted him to take care of more than he could take. tobias didn't actually care if it took everything out of nash, he just didn't want to take care of everyone else himself.
tobias used to hear him cry at night but didn't do shit to help him. he thought that nash had to toughen up (he was like 13)
nash doesn't like letting other people do things for him bc it makes him hate himself even more. he feels bad when people take on what he thinks is his responsibility. at the same time, it makes him cry cause it makes him feel loved.
he gets mad at himself bc he thinks he's overreacting all the time. he tells himself other people have it worse and that he has no right to complain when he has such a good life.
in high school, he was actually in some pretty sketchy friend group. they took drugs and stuff and got him into it. nash never got addicted, but he now takes drugs when everything becomes too much for him.
in my jamie head canons, i said that he hits punching bags until his hands start bleeding (and even that doesn't stop him sometimes). i think the same goes for nash. he wouldn't self harm in a way that made it obvious to himself that he was harming himself. he'd do it in 'subtle' ways that he could convince himself weren't self harm.
his hands are really messed up for multiple reasons. the boxing and the fact that whenever something goes wrong, he bites his nails and the skin around them.
(idk if this one is even possible, but i'm on the verge of falling asleep and want to finish this) when he fails to save someone, he'll stuff his head in a pillow/in his cowboy hat to cut off oxygen. it kind of brings him back to the present when he starts spiraling.
he has really bad anxiety and actually takes pills to deal with it. all of his responsibilities and stuff weigh him down a lot.
he does so much for others that when he got together with libby and she started doing things for him, he'd actually cry. she'd make him breakfast and he'd tell her it was too much.
he used to have trichotillomania (mental health condition that involves irresistible urges to pull out hair from your scalp, eyebrows, or other areas of your body). over time he got better, but sometimes it comes back when his anxiety is really bad.
he used to make his mom drawings and gifts in hope of getting her attention (she never cared). he used to think it was because his drawings weren't good enough, so he'd try again and again until he realized he was the problem.
nash personally blames himself for all of the pain tobias caused people (like lyra and stuff). for some reason, he thinks he should've stopped him somehow even though that's impossible.
he used to come home really scraped up because he'd get into fights for his brothers whenever someone was mean to them or hurt them. he has some permanent scars on his body bc of the fights, but he still thinks he should've done more.
whenever nash does something he deems 'wrong' he hears tobias' voice in his head telling him he's a failure.
a happy nash head canon to finish this off:
nash, as a kid, loved ducks. he would head to ponds to feed them, and he owned like 294810 books on ducks. he had tiny duck figurines in his bedroom (and still does). he used to make short videos about them and his little trips to the pond with his camera.
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opens-up-4-nobody · 2 months
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...
#i walked into a situation today where my mom was effectively already dead. effectively bc her body was and is still alive. still breathing#painful groaning purrs. but her mind was gone yesterday. my dad said he showed her a picture of the mountains i took that day and told her#i loved her and she smiled. thats what he said. maybe he was just being nice. or maybe thats the last time she thought of me. i dunno. but#the human body is an incredible thing. shes got a heart still powering a broken body. too full of tumors to function anymore. stomach#streched like a pregnant mother. it happed really fast and now its happening very slow#im somehow probably better off than the rest of them. i only got here for the aftermath of a downslide. my daily life will b least effected#i only really saw her twice a year living so far away and she didnt text much. didnt call often. so life wont change much ill just kno shes#not there. which is sad. but theres nothing to b done abt it. life goes on. it hasnt been all bad tho. its nice to talk to my family abt her#how incredible she was. bc she was. wish her mom wasnt here tho. she doesn't deserve to b here. my mom wouldnt want her here. she didnt want#her here. but anyway. i wish her body would just let her go now. so we can sleep. so this can be over. so she can rest#but even like this shes stubborn and resilient. they say it could go on for days but i hope not. may the universe let her rest shes gotta b#so tired after 10 years of this. but i have no regrets. she knew how i felt abt her. and i dont think she had regrets either. she did so#much up to the very end. went out on a high note without the burdon of knowing it was coming#i dunno. its just such a strange experience to watch the empty shell of your mother sleeping like a gurgling baby#unrelated
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arthur-r · 2 months
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something’s just not right / there’s hunger in my eyes, but you’re not looking into mine / in the morning light / i wake up next to you, but we’re no longer entwined / i want to love you with a ravenous hunger, tear your flesh into mine / you say you like me, but you’d rather that i listen quiet, keep it all inside / i romanticize a lust for blood and the glint of evil in your eyes / any kind of sign, something to tell me that your heart is burning just like mine / rend me to pieces if that’s what it takes to tell me that i taste divine / there’s something wrong but i just can’t quite place it, leave me on the precipice, i’m fine / something awakening and stirring inside me / i’m gearing up, your pretense in decline / i slice my heart up on a platter and find that you don’t even wanna dine / i gave my soul up, you can eat me raw / diced up and vulnerable, i’m yours to try / you’re glancing to the side, bored, and find that you don’t even wanna dine!!!!
#round 2 of recording my loser boring cannibalism song#(it has more words now. it is still not a complete song but it is getting somewhere….)#basically i really like cannibalism as a literary device and devouring somebody and being like violently enamored#and i convinced myself that my relationship was really good and healthy and i just don’t know how to handle a Good Normal Relationship#but secretly loving somebody should be at least a LITTLE BIT like cannibalism. especially if you’re me#so i got really hungry and he didn’t ever lift a finger for me or smile in my direction#and i wish he would just be hungry for me back. kill me a little bit if it would mean you care#i just thought that Normal People should be Normal about each other and he was just being Normal about me#when he like. did not prioritize me ever. and was only affectionate when he was drunk 🫠#he does NOT deserve to be the one who ended the relationship!!!!#anyway i would rather he eat me alive than not even look at me. and that’s what this song is about#and i’m gonna raise my standards so much fucking higher. he should be fucking hungry for me actually#literally and figuratively shdhdf i was always the one to invite him to dinner too.#and he was SHIT at communion motif. that guy had awful fucking table manners why did i date him#anyway shdhdf. idk here is round two of my hungry song#i’ve already changed the lyrics a little since recording this a couple mornings ago but it’s FINE my roommate is in here so can’t re-record#but: there’s something wrong but i’m not ready to face it. actually. cause it was so fucking obvious i was just willfully ignorant#anyways!! i’m feeling a little weird today and i haven’t done anything and i want to play music but i can’t. so i’m posting a song instead#and later i might be going to a concert?? we’ll see. if i’m feeling better physically by then!!#anyway i hope everybody is doing okay and lmk if you need anything!! sincerely arthur#me. my post. mine.#delete later (probably)#music
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the-casbah-way · 9 months
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i feel like everyone is going to eventually get annoyed at me for still being sad about simba or still talking about it but posting abt it is easier than telling someone because i don’t know how to do that and i’d rather be annoying here where people can scroll past and ignore it and not feel obligated to reply
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You know, I really do think that Shu Takumi is the heart of the Ace Attorney universe, and there is a notable drop in quality once he left the project, but I don't blame him for leaving. I would also leave if I was trying to tell a specific story about a new protagonist and my parent company was like "listen, buddy, nobody cares about Apollo's bland and uneventful life or game" but God, I wish so much that he had been able to tell the story that he wanted to. I'm sure it would have been beautiful and engaging and thought provoking.
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jooniez · 2 years
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okay wow so today was a whirlwind of emotions 😭😵‍💫🥹
#my brain is mush and others have said it better than me cause I’m usually not that good at expressing myself so I’ll rb some posts after#but I just wanted to let out some thoughts right now cause it’s been a crazy day#first of all I only got through half the festa vid so far cause I started watching before dinner but I got through a lot of their talking#about the hiatus and I think the main reason why I was so emotional and why I was crying so hard listening was more so about the fact that#they feel BAD about this more so than the actual hiatus itself#cause even though it’s going to be different and a lot more solo content (which I’m genuinely so excited for) it’s not like they’re going#to be completely gone like they even said they’re still doing run so that’s something I’m really happy about too#obviously I’m going to miss all the ot7 content but it’s not like this is permanent obviously one day they will call it quits for good but#that day isn’t today and I’ll obviously deal with that when it comes. but besides that the main reason why I’m so sad is that they felt#like they didn’t have a right to feel burnt out or to feel disconnected or to feel upset. they felt like they had to push these feelings#away and put aside going on this hiatus for years cause they didn’t want to disappoint us and that just broke my heart ..#like namjoons face and seeing all that pain he’s been carrying for years absolutely broke me#like I really wish they would be so much more selfish than they are sometimes because they DO deserve this break and they have for YEARS#that’s the point that really made me upset .. and joon even said that he felt the members resented him at times and even though they assured#him they didn’t he said ‘I know but that’s how I felt’ and it just kills me that they’ll always think we’re going to be upset about stuff#like this even though a vast majority of us .. the true fans .. want them to have this resting period#and be able to be on their own and figure themselves out .. everyone needs that and I have SO much respect to them for speaking on this#and making that video#so yea idk I’m feeling a bit sad but more so just … relieved?? that they’re finally taking this much needed time for themselves#and I’m honestly so excited to see what they do for their solo work 💜 I love them so much as artist and people#and seeing them always being honest and raw and vulnerable no matter how difficult … so much love and respect for them 💗#mine#idk I have so much more to say too but I never know how to express it well online .. I just love bangtan always 💜
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melancholymirth · 2 months
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What kind of catharsis do you need? Homecoming You've been away for quite a while -- maybe it's time to call it a day. You've had to keep up the façade for so long you're starting to forget who you really are. This calls for a nice cup of tea and an early evening in. Pack it up, settle down. Come home to yourself.
Tagged by: N/A, taken from @astarab1aze who likes to keep me out of the fun Tagging: N/A
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melodic-melovin · 6 months
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The real question is if when Один Не Один releases on November 14th I can pull the same stunt I did when Ghost's Hunter's Moon came out and play it literally so much it gets added to this year's Spotify Wrapped a month before the cutoff point. I'm already insane about this song just from previews.
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yiangchen · 11 months
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marimogf-archived · 5 months
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it's mr. steal your girl!
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synopsis: getting stood up by your boyfriend on your birthday? don't worry, your best friend, infinite flirt satoru gojo, will never let you down!
genre / au: porn with a little plot? best friend!satoru, best friends to lovers, little fluff at the end, very little angst
contains: EXPLICIT CONTENT (MINORS DNI), afab!reader, slight dom!satoru, reader wears makeup and a dress, cheating, use of petnames (good girl, sweetheart, baby etc.), daddy kink, size kink, breeding kink, unprotected sex, creampie, squirting, photo taking, shitty bf naoya; wc: ~4.1k
happy reading, i hope you enjoy! as always, reblogs and feedback are greatly appreciated!! 🩷
PLEASE READ MY DNI BEFORE INTERACTING!
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satoru gojo is a player. or so the rumours say. everyone who talks about him says so. dubbed “mr. steal your girl” with how fast he had people falling for him, taken or not. that he's overly flirty, he hooks up with people on a whim and is not a fan of commitment.
but oh dear, was he committed to getting into your pants.
ever since he was introduced to you, arms interlinked with your boyfriend, naoya, he fantasised about being what the zen’in brat was for you. he could never treat you right, unlike satoru.
over time, the two of you got closer and closer, much to naoya’s dismay. but who was he to stop the great satoru gojo from seeing you? exactly.
most of your conversations were about your boyfriend. satoru telling you how much he hated how the zen’in heir treated you, how he was trying to keep you to himself and how you deserved better. the smile on his face fading whilst he listened to you defending naoya, trying to be a good wife-to-be, not expecting anything back from him.
satoru’s everlasting smile turned upside down, trying to understand what it was about him that had you so wrapped around his finger.
even today, on your birthday, he wasn't there. and yet you never uttered a bad word about him. even on this important day, he didn't care.
naoya had been called to an emergency clan meeting, apparently forgetting to give you a head’s up. not even a “happy birthday” text, nothing. you had waited for an hour at the restaurant until you got the call from him, telling you that he was tired after the meeting and wishing you happy birthday in that disgustingly bored tone of his.
with your heart in pieces, you called satoru right after, not wanting to waste the reservation and have a nice dinner either way. he took it as an opportunity to scrutinise naoya again, rightfully so.
“please, he could be treating you so much better. he acts like you're just an incubator for his heir and it's honestly annoying. he doesn't respect you at all and never will. he doesn't keep you around to marry, you're just a fleshlight for him. does he make you cum?,” he stated, sipping on his way too sweet tea.
you gasp at his lewd question, slapping his arm lightly and looking around to see if anyone heard him. heat was rising to your cheeks in embarrassment.
“what are you saying, of course he does!” you hissed, lying through your teeth.
satoru smirked, catching you red-handed. “you're lying and not even good at it.”
with a huff, you crossed your arms and watched how his eyes dipped to your accentuated chest and back to your face.
“okay, maybe he doesn't and i have to fake it sometimes but it still feels good. why do you even care?”
the white-haired man leaned forward, head resting on his large hand. his ocean eyes peering into yours over his sunglasses, making you squirm in your seat.
“because i want my best friend to be happy and making you cum is a part of that. it can't be that hard to make you orgasm, even naoya could do it if he cared. but he doesn't. hell, he stood you up on your own birthday because of his stupid clan meeting!”
you squinted at him, trying to ignore the thrumming in your chest as you uttered the next words.
“what? like you could treat me better?”
oh, now you've done it.
he finished his drink before grabbing your wrist and pulling you away to his car. the drive back to his apartment was tense, his warm hand on your thigh as he concentrated on the road. you squirmed, not having expected him to actually take the bait.
yes, he was your best and closest friend but he never lied about finding you hot. he never lied about his distaste for naoya, always bragging how much better he would treat you if you just gave him a chance. but because he was satoru gojo, the infinite flirt, you never thought he'd actually mean it.
he parked the car, getting out to open the passenger door for you. placing a hand on the small of your back to guide you to the front door. the smell of his cologne was overtaking your senses, getting dizzy at the prospect of actually getting in his pants.
unlocking his apartment door, he took off his sunglasses before gently taking your hand and guided you to the bedroom. as you took a tentative seat on his bed, looking around the room to avoid eye contact, satoru took a few steps towards you.
“we don't have to do it, you know. wouldn't want you to get in trouble with the zen’ins. not that i couldn't protect you. i’ll kill them if needed,” he said, kneeling in front of you and placing a warm hand on your knee.
“i just can't stand to see you so upset on your birthday and i wanna show you what it's like to be treated well because your dickhead of a boyfriend can't.”
your heart broke because you knew on the inside he was right. naoya didn't care about you at all, it was all a facade for his parents so they would stop pestering him to get married. but he never had any intention of putting a ring on your finger or having a long term relationship. you never even met his family, he didn't even invite you to his home. it was a purely physical relationship with someone you weren't compatible with with no regard for you. and for what?
it hurt. it hurt bad and you wanted satoru to take the pain away.
your eyes rose to look at him, tears brimming in them. as always, satoru read you like an open book. no matter how much you would try to hide it, he was always acutely aware of your emotions. when you nodded, giving him the green light, he smiled widely.
he rose, face to face with you, before gently kissing you and tasting the tears that started to roll down your cheeks. a whine escaped your throat, instantly being swallowed up by satoru’s lips and stored away in his memory. your eyes fluttered closed and you felt the heat rising in your cheeks once again.
his lips were so perfectly soft against yours and your hands slid up to his chest to grip his shirt. his big hands were on your neck and cheek, holding you close as his tongue swiped over your bottom lip.
your lips parted willingly, letting his tongue slide against yours. meanwhile, your fingers did quick work of the buttons of his shirt, leaving him in just a black tank top that stretched over his muscular pecs. your hands slid underneath the shirt, sliding it off his shoulders and exposing his toned arms.
his hands slid down to your shoulders, playing with the straps of your skimpy dress. he pulled away, a tiny smile playing on his lips as he watched your already dazed expression.
“you were trying to get some tonight, hm? dressed like that,” he murmured against your lips. his smile widened as you nodded, averting your gaze in embarrassment. though he wasn't the man you had intended to be in bed with, you weren't complaining.
satoru was an attractive man, no one could deny that. his snow white, fluffy hair, his cerulean blue eyes, his soft lips. down to his lean build, muscles invisible under his baggy clothes and only exposed to those who have the honour to take him to bed.
“i know i’m not your boyfriend, but i’ll show you how he should be treating you,” satoru’s voice was low and his tone so sincere that tears burned in your eyes again. his calloused thumb wiped away the stray ones escaping, kissing your mascara-stained cheeks.
his kisses started travelling lower, along your jawline and down your neck. you closed your eyes with a sigh as satoru’s soft lips explored your hot skin. he gently pushed you back onto the soft mattress, his lips never leaving your neck. his tall frame towered over you, a feeling of safety embracing you.
he alternated between sucking and biting, marking you as his. quiet moans left your lips as his large hands found your soft breasts, massaging them through your dress. your nipples were already perked up, visible through the thin fabric.
“‘toru…” you whimpered, hands gripping his broad shoulders. your sounds were music to his ears. he pinched your nipples through your dress, making your back arch into him. that gave him the perfect opportunity to slide the straps off your shoulders, exposing you to the cold air in his bedroom as well as his hungry eyes.
“what is it, sweetheart?” he taunted, leaning down again to ravage your chest, hot mouth engulfing your perked bud. you whined, your hands finding purchase in his soft hair. the other breast was also getting attention. his big hand squishing it, rolling the sensitive nipple between his fingers. switching sides, the cold air made your saliva-slicked bud even more sensitive. he gently bit your nipple, making you moan his name and pull his hair.
pulling him off of you, he looked at you with dilated pupils and a cocky grin on his lips. your heavy breaths making your chest rise and fall.
“please, just make me forget about him.”
your dress was off in seconds, leaving you just in your skimpy lace underwear that sported a wet patch already. he took off his clothes down to his boxers equally as fast before focusing his attention back on you.
you felt so small underneath his intense gaze, his body framing yours as he leaned over you again to kiss you feverishly. you pulled him closer, hands wandering over his hot skin, feeling his muscles twitch and flex. satoru had a way of making everyone around him feel small due to his height but now you truly felt tiny underneath his large frame.
his kisses trailed down your chest again, going lower and lower until he knelt between your legs, nipping at the skin of your thighs. you sat up on your elbows to see his darkened eyes and his nose nudging against your covered cunt, inhaling your scent.
“all this for me? you shouldn't have,” he smirked, pressing a soft kiss against your clothed clit. you whined his name, wiggling and hinting at him to get on with it. he let out a chuckle and hooked his fingers under the waistband to pull your soaked underwear down your legs, a string of arousal connecting your cunt and the fabric. throwing the skimpy fabric over his shoulder, he placed his warm hands on the inside of your soft thighs as you tried to close your legs.
“nuh uh, baby, let me see what naoya’s been claiming.”
satoru gojo may not be a fan of commitment. but currently, he was hopelessly devoted to you.
okay, you and your wet cunt in front of his face. your folds were glistening with arousal, the scent of it overtaking his senses. all for him and him only.
he had dreamed about this for a long time. to have you like this underneath him, bashfully writhing and moaning for him to hurry up.
his lips found your thigh, fangs showing to nip your skin and mark you. you were watching him intently, mouth agape and drool threatening to run out of the corner.
when his hot tongue finally made contact with your pussy, your head fell back and a loud moan left your lips. the wet appendage was lapping up your juices and he moaned at your sweet taste. his eyes were trained on your face, brows furrowed in concentration.
he was dead set on fulfilling your wish. to make you forget your shitty boyfriend, erasing every bad memory from your mind and body.
his hands gripped your thighs, nails leaving crescent marks as your hips moved on their own, grinding against his hot mouth. his tongue flattened against your clit, providing you with just enough friction to grind against.
his scalp started to burn pleasantly with the way you were pulling him, using him to get yourself off. his tongue was so hot and wet against you and his lips curled into a smile when he noticed your moans getting louder and your hips stuttering against him.
he pulled away just as you were tiptoeing on the brink of orgasm, a needy whine leaving your lips.
“hah… why'd you stop, ‘toru? please, wanna cum,” you whimpered and he almost gave in if it wasn't for his plan.
his fingers spread your lips, watching your tiny hole clench around nothing. your glistening arousal dripping down your hole made his mouth water again. his long middle finger slid into your warmth slowly, your arms giving out underneath you and your back arching towards him.
he curled his finger upwards, finding the spongy spot in your walls almost immediately and abusing it right away. whimpers left your throat and you gripped the sheets next to you, fucking yourself on his finger.
“fuuck baby, s’tight. naoya isn't fucking you right, is he?”
a rhetorical question. if he would, you wouldn't be in this predicament.
he added a second one, his larger fingers stretching you out and reaching spots inside you that naoya never could. but just as you were close to cumming, he pulled his finger out, leaving you high and dry again.
“why'd you do that? i wanna cum, ‘toru, please, just let me,” you cried out, leaning up on wobbly arms with huffs and puffs.
“because i haven't given you your birthday taps yet.”
your eyes widened at his insinuation. satoru grinned at you before his big hand made contact with your pussy again.
but not in the way you had hoped and wanted.
a harsh slap echoed through the room, followed by a whine from your lips. the man between your legs grinned, fangs shining in the low light of your bedroom.
“c’mon baby, you gotta count,” he teased, calloused fingers drawing gentle circles on your swollen clit. “for good luck.”
you couldn't concentrate, feeling dizzy at the stimulation and your two denied orgasms already. but to satoru’s delight, you started counting. he kept going, always giving you a little breather in between and rubbing your clit or pushing his fingers inside you to keep you on edge. your thighs were trembling, littered with marks and your voice was starting to give out at the halfway point.
“please ‘toru, i wanna cum so bad,” you pleaded, gripping his wrist and looking at his smug face with tears rolling down your cheeks.
“you're almost done, baby. if you finish without cumming, i’ll give it to you,” he spoke, thumb rubbing your hot skin soothingly. truthfully, satoru didn't even know how he was lasting, dick painfully hard and dripping against the mattress. but he restrained himself somehow.
for you.
the last few slaps against your cunt were torturous, stars dancing behind your eyes with each slap and the coil threatening to snap.
“okay, you're done, baby. did s’well, you deserve a reward now, hm?” satoru teased before plunging two fingers into your dripping pussy, his tongue wet against your clit.
your back arched unnaturally off the bed, hands gripping his white strands. you almost blacked out from the pleasure as your hips gyrated against his fingers.
“oh, s’good, tha…thank you, thank you,” you panted, chasing ecstasy, “fuck, feels so good.”
“yeah? better than your shitty boyfriend?” he cooed, watching you get yourself off on him. your skin was glistening with sweat, the smell of your arousal filling the whole room and your moans just music to his ears.
“can't believe he'd wanna miss out on this,” he mumbled, more to himself than to you. not that you would've heard, too busy getting lost in the pleasure.
“m’close, pleasepleaseplease, daddy!! please let me cum!” you begged and satoru’s heart leaped out of his chest at the nickname. he'd never expected you to call someone daddy but now that he heard it once?
he never wanted anyone else to hear it.
“come on then, make a mess, baby,” he said, giving you the green light, “make a mess on daddy’s fingers.”
satoru watched in delight as your body convulsed and your cunt gushed clear liquid into his waiting mouth. he was drinking up your juices and moaning against you, prolonging your orgasm. he slowed down his fingers, giving your clit kitten licks before pulling out with a wet squelch. his fingers were drenched in your juices and he lifted himself up, pushing his fingers past your lips.
he could've sworn he blacked out for a second when you looked at him with fucked out eyes and heart-shaped pupils. sucking your essence off his fingers and moaning around them.
“fuck, you're so hot. i can't believe he doesn't wanna fuck you 24/7. such a good girl,” he whispered. you whined, brain scrambled from how hard you came.
he pulled his fingers out of your mouth, giving you a heated kiss before rummaging around his room for a condom. once you came to your senses again and realised what he was looking for, you called out to him.
“satoru.”
he turned around, looking at you getting on your hands and knees shakily and looking back at him. his dick twitched in his underwear as you wiggled your ass at him, cunt dripping onto the sheets.
“you don't need one.”
at the premise of fucking you raw, he got behind you, boxers discarded in seconds and his fat cock grinding against your wet heat. your arousal was lubricating his length before he slowly pushed into your warm, wet cunt. he let out a moan, gripping your hips hard enough to leave bruises. he bottomed out, feeling you clench around him and he tried his hardest not to bust right there.
“oh m’god, so big,” you whimpered, arms threatening to give out. one of satoru’s arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you up and closer to him. the other snaking up for his hand to cover your throat and squeezing gently. his chest was pressed against your arched back, his whole body caging you.
“yeah? like being filled up with daddy's cock?” he whispered in your ears and you whined, feeling your cunt stretching out. his hand snaked down to your sensitive clit, slowly circling his fingers and adding to the stimulation.
“s’good, daddy, please fuck me,” you moaned, drool escaping the corner of your mouth as you held onto satoru’s strong arms.
he started moving at your command. slowly, gently, feeling your walls hug his length so deliciously. his dick hit every sensitive spot of your walls, mushroom tip nudging against your cervix.
“fuck, baby, y’r so tight, so good f’me,” he grunted, leaning down to press a chaste kiss on your shoulder before picking up the pace. his hips snapped against yours, your tits jiggling with every thrust.
your lips were parted, letting out a constant stream of moans at how deliciously painful satoru’s swollen tip bruised your insides. stretching you out and nudging that gummy, sensitive spot inside you that had you reeling towards the edge.
“g’na cum again, daddy. pleaseplease let me cum!” you whined, nails leaving red marks on his skin as you struggled to keep your hold on him. satoru smirked against your skin, sinking his teeth into your shoulder with a groan when you clenched around him. you were trying so hard to keep it in, to be a good girl.
all for him.
“cum for me then, make a mess on my cock, baby,” he whispered in your ear. he held you close to him as you shook, pussy clenching and gushing around him and soaking the sheets.
“oh fuuck, oh my god!” you whimpered when he slowly thrusted into you. he was prolonging your orgasm while inching closer to his own, your sensitive walls hugging his length so tightly.
satoru let go of you, letting you fall to the mattress. one of his hands gripping your hip tightly. the other was grabbing your hair, pulling your torso up. putting his foot onto the mattress for leverage, his thrusts began to speed up, a constant slapping sound echoing through his bedroom. his pink lips were parted, letting out deep grunts and moans of your name.
“gonna fill y’up, baby. gonna breed this little pussy, get you all nice and pregnant, so that asshole knows you’re mine. you'd like that, wouldn't you?,” he grumbled, completely pussydrunk.
“please, daddy, fill m’up, make me yours,” you mewled, absolutely drunk off the way he was hitting your g-spot over and over again. the coil in your stomach was tightening yet again.
his hips snapped into you, just a few thrusts more until he was stilling inside you. bottomed out, he let out a long moan as rope after rope of his cum painted your insides white. the warm feeling of his seed made you cum yet again, coating his length in your essence.
you two stayed still for a breath before satoru pulled out with a lewd squelch, watching as his cum slowly dripped out of your clenching hole. he grabbed the flesh of your buttock, using two fingers to push his cum back into you. he then took your phone, snapping a picture of your leaking cunt and sending it to naoya.
captioned: “it's mr. steal your girl! :3”
he wanted to block the contact but refrained, just for you to see his reaction. while he got off the bed, you flopped onto your side, heavy breathing making your chest rise and fall. he leaned down to press a chaste kiss to your sweaty forehead, whispering that he'll be right back.
you didn't come back to your senses for a while, trying to make up what actually happened. guilt and anxiety overtook you, but the pleasant buzz of sex overshadowed it soon enough.
satoru returned quickly with a wet washcloth and a glass of water with a straw. he held it out for you, watching with heart-shaped pupils as you emptied the glass in mere seconds. the wet washcloth met your face, gently wiping away the sweat before he reached between your legs, wiping away the remnants of both your orgasms.
your eyes were struggling to stay open, trying desperately to fight sleep. a content smile lifted the corners of your mouth, a gentle simmer overtaking your heart.
“so this is how the great satoru gojo treats his hookups, huh?” you mumbled, not really expecting an answer. satoru’s hand settled on your cheek, thumb rubbing soothingly over the hot skin. the gentle touch forced you to look at him, tears burning in your eyes at the prospect of facing your actual boyfriend.
as if he could read your troubled mind, satoru leaned down again to press his lips against yours, trying to convey the loving thrum of his heart with just a kiss. but just in case it wouldn't work, he parted from you to speak.
“you weren't just a hookup though. this is how the great satoru gojo would treat his potential girlfriend if she would finally break up with her scumbag of a boyfriend,” he murmured, nose nudging yours, forcing an exhausted giggle out of you.
“but good thing, i already did it for you!” he held the phone up to your face, showing you the photo he sent to naoya as well as the slur of angry messages that followed, including one stating that he was breaking up with you. reading through it all with a slacked jaw, a breathy laugh erupted from your chest.
the realisation hit you in the face. you were finally free from the zen’in clan and their horrid heir. not that they'd care anyway.
“you're unbelievable, satoru!”
he took the liberty of blocking the contact now, setting your phone down on the nightstand.
“i truly really like you, i didn't just wanna give you some mind-blowing birthday sex. not that i’m complaining,” he laughed, reaching out for your hand. the giggle that left your lips had his heart doing somersaults.
“i truly want to see you happy and i’m a firm believer that you would be by my side. i know i always joke about it but i’m being honest right now. will you please be my girlfriend?” he asked, voice quiet and almost insecure which was an unusual phenomenon.
you felt your heartbeat pick up, the organ thrumming against your ribcage. you always had eyes for satoru. truthfully, you got with naoya out of spite in hopes that the feelings would subside. but the truth would always prevail.
“is that a rhetorical question? of course i will!”
satoru gojo, "mr. steal your girl", has only ever stolen one girl in his life and that was you.
but by god, was it worth it.
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a/n: WAHHHHHHH it's finally out of my system!! this is dedicated to my favourite gojo fucker @jabamin for her and gojo's birthday 🩷 (everyone go wish karina a happy birthday or else 🫵🏼) thank you to @tojiella for your help proofreading, also tagging @screampied @ramonathinks @c0pkiller @tetsuskei and @gojoest as fellow gojo lovers teehee. i hope you enjoyed, love you so much 💗
© marimogf 2023 — all rights reserved. please do not plagiarize, translate or steal any of my works.
3K notes · View notes
readychilledwine · 3 months
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Could i request something where az and reader are mates. They have a huge fight and “break up” and reader leaves the court. She finds out that she is pregnant and writes him a letter. He never shows up so she thinks he doesn’t want the baby. Rhys visit the court she is in and sees her with a child maybe a couple months old. He is mad because she didn’t told him and when he ask her why she keeps his nephew away she tells him that she wrote az but he never answered. Rhys is mad and ask az what is up with him to just leave his pregnant mate. Unbeknownst to him that az was searching for her the whole time. Az tells him that he never got a letter and they find out that maybe elain burned it. It takes some time for them but they find their way back and just fluff azriel dad who teaches his son how to fly.
( you could write more angst between reader and az because of elain or you could use a maid or something who wants az)
Here Without You
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Summary - Being a single mother was more painful than you'd ever thought it would be, especially when your son's father was just a court away.
Warnings - Angst, Elain showing those claws, single mom status, a child, PPD and the thoughts that come with it, **edited to add** cheating
A/N - I had one of my friends who is a single mom help me with this one while also imagining my life without baby daddy, and um, yeah. We cried a lot, so hopefully, you all do too.
*message from Liz regarding the ending at the end*
💙Peep my Azriel Masterlist Here💙
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You had decided whatever you had done to offend the Mother must have been truly unforgettable and unforgivable as you sank against the wall of your family chambers in the Day Court Palace.
Being a new mother was the hardest thing you had ever and will ever do. You had finally gotten Nox down after 3 hours of fussing and tears, and now you waited. He'd sleep 2 hours if you were lucky, wake up crying, and you'd start the process over.
You had wished for your mate more times than you could count, but that bridge was long gone and burned. He had ensured of that by not coming when you wrote him, by not even bothering to write you a response.
The last fight between you and Azriel had been ugly. Glasses had been thrown, a bottle of wine knocked over in rage, cruel words you would both have to live with ringing in your ears like a scream. 350 years. Gone. Thrown away like garbage. All for Elain.
Selfish, plotting, destructive Elain.
You stood, body swaying with sleep deprivation setting in before sitting at the table where your now cold food set. You were too tired to eat, choosing to instead drink the water you had been desperately craving 4 hour ago.
You had wished you could turn it to wine, drink it with no consequences, and still feed Nox when he woke, but that was not the reality of the world. So, instead, you allowed the room temperature flavorless beverage to slide down your throat before moving like a ghost to the couch. There was no point in getting comfortable in your own bed. You would have to be up soon anyway. It wasn’t as if you had help.
You were alone.
And that wasn't even the most painful part of it.
The most painful part was setting in doubt. The growing disbelief that you weren't capable of this, that Nox deserved more, that you should have dropped him at the cabin you had no doubt Elain had moved into, leaving him with her and Azriel to allow you to-
You cut your brain off, refusing to put those words into a full thought. Refusing to believe that your disappearance or death was better for your son than this.
This had to be enough, you had to be enough, because Gods if it wasn't and you weren't, then what truly was the point in living any longer.
Helion entered your chambers the next morning, eyes falling to where you were sat on the floor, shoulders shaking as sobs tore through you. He placed a large warm hand on your shoulder before taking Nox from your arms. "I know I can not offer much of a break due to his feeding cycle, but when is the last time you ate a hot meal, y/n?"
You shook your head. He was 2 weeks old. You supposed it had been before labor. Since then, it had been moments begging for just a second of deep sleep. Moments begging for the Mother to help you, to guide you. Moments where those prayers went unanswered as if they were just thrown into a void. "I don't remember."
Helion could have killed Azriel for you, for Lucien, for Nox. He almost had when you had winnowed yourself here, collapsing in his arms from the exhaustion magic and a growing babe had caused your body.
You hadn't known when you came to the Day Court, begging your oldest friend for a week of safety and healing that you were pregnant, but the High Lord had scented it the second you appeared.
It left him wondering how the hell Azriel hadn't.
"Let me hire a wet nurse for you," he offered again, knowing you would turn it down since your depressive state had you hyper fixated in this belief that all you were good for now was your breasts, and if you gave that duty away, what purpose did you have? "At least for the next few hours. To give you time to rest?"
You still shook your head, messy, tangled hair trying to sway. "I can't. I can't burden someone else."
Helion turned his head away from you, willing himself not to cry at the emptiness of your voice, at the lifelessness you had become.
"The Night Court and Spring are coming today," he started slowly. "I am the magic selected neutral ground for Tamlin and Rhysand to begin setting a peace treaty and trade routes." He waited for your reaction, almost breaking further as you gave him none. "Do you want to see any of them?"
"Lucien and Tamlin."
Helion felt his heart shatter for Cassian, the male who had been asking about you for months now. "The general-"
"Is Azriel's brother. And probably has taken his side. Attempts to see me are probably to give him some sick sort of satisfaction."
He dropped the subject immediately. Nox was asleep, content in the High Lord's arms. "I have time before they arrive, go nap." Helion ordered it, eyes blazing a soft gold and forcing you into submission.
Your bed had never felt so soft.
Helion was walking with Nox around the Palace, smiling and cooing the little male. He was always content when he was being held, and you were so deeply asleep you hadn't even noticed Helion holding the boy to your chest as he nursed. He walked towards where Lucien and Tamlin were.
His son, his pride and joy, looked just radiant in his Day Court attire. The soft, off-white pleaded fabric draping him showed the new healthy build he had gained since Azriel and Elain's transgressions, a golden snake wrapped his bicep, new golden earrings adorned those many piercings.
Lucien paused, a look of concern etching his face when he saw Nox before shaking his head rapidly.
But it was too late, Helion was already in the room where Rhysand also stood with the Inner Circle. The Lord of Night's face fell as he looked at the Illyrian boy, looking so happy up at Helion as he dozed off.
Cassian had frozen, mid sentence with Nesta. He had tried to take a step, wanting to see the babe he immediately knew was his nephew. His eyes met Helion's pleading with permission to approach. Elain's face had paled. A mix of guilt and fear running across it before she schooled it into a faked look of hurt and sadness.
But it was Azriel's face the broke the High Lord. It was a look he knew all too well.
The look of a father who missed the birth of his child.
The look of a father who didn't know he had a child.
The look of a father mourning lost time.
Lucien moved to Helion, taking Nox before leaving the room quickly. The boy did as he always did when his head found Lucien's warm bare shoulder. He released a heavy breath, snuggling into that familiar scent and warmth. "Your mother did not call for me last night," they all heard his soft voice trailing off, speaking to their nephew softly.
"You will tell me everything I do not know," Rhysand demanded as if he was in his own court. "When the fuck was he born. Why were we not informed of her pregnancy?"
Tamlin looked to Helion, digging the shit further. "Is she in the same room as last time?" The Lord of Day nodded. "I will go see her while you all deal with this."
Helion didn't answer, walking to the centered round table and taking the head seat. "To begin, Rhysand, this is my court. You will not make demands of me in my home." They all sat, aside from Azriel. His gaze was locked on the hallway Lucien and Tamlin had gone down.
If he ran, he could catch them. He could see you. He could-
The slam of hands on a table ripped him from his thoughts, and his head snapped to Helion. The High Lord was blazing, glowing like the sun itself, heat radiating from him. "Sit. Down."
An hour later and Rhysand had the bridge of his nose pinched between his fingers. "You saw her send each letter?"
Helion rolled his eyes, nodding again. "Every month after every check up and once after the birth."
Rhys pointed to Azriel. "But you never got them?"
"My son wouldn't be in another court if I had," Azriel's voice mirrored yours. Broken, empty, mourning. Mourning what was, what he had missed and would never get back. "You're sure she sent them to me?"
Helion could have snapped his neck. "Who else would have fathered her babe? You are the one who stepped out of the bonds of marriage and mateship. Not her."
Azriel paused, a sudden look of anger gracing his face as he looked up at Elain, shadows curling his ears. Nuala appeared, setting envelopes down in front of Rhysand. "In her room. Under her bed in a locked chest. Along with every communication you had tried to send to y/n, my lord."
Feyre gasped, turning her back to Elain and leaning further into Rhysand, holding Nyx tightly between them. She remembered those first few weeks. The sleepless nights, the pain, the emotional down pour. She would not have survived without Rhysand. Without Nesta and Mor. Without Cassian and you and Azriel. Her sister, the one who had held her as darkness swallowed her mind after her son's birth, had allowed you to endure this alone.
Azriel's hands shook, reaching for that stack. He separated out the letters. 10 for him. 2 for Rhysand and Feyre. 2 for Mor. 2 for Amren. 4 for Cassian and Nesta.
Helion stood. "I will let you all process this. Call for me when you are ready to do negotiations. The sooner you all leave, the better for her."
Rhysand's eyes shot up. "You won't let us explain to her-"
"Does it change the fact that he took Elain to their marriage bed? Does it change that he signed the annulment papers." Silence filled the room. "I believe that's why she left. Correct?" Rhys grit his teeth nodding. "Then all this changes is me, someone she trusts and feels safe with right now, informing her of what happened and allowing her to decide if she wants to reach out again from that point." He made a pointed look at Elain. "Which would not matter since I cannot see you removing the parasite from your court."
Helion walked into your room to Lucien and Nox laying skin to skin, a blanket over them as Tamlin held you, long fingers running through your dark hair. "And?" His son said.
"Your mate hid the letters regarding her pregnancy." Lucien whistled. "She's a snake hiding behind beautiful scales."
Azriel had tracked down your room with his shadows easily. The inner circle had been excused for the negotiations and allowed to explore the city. Cassian had flown Elain home, Mor and Amren winnowing Nesta behind them. Cassian wanted Elain out of his house, and Azriel could not have been more grateful to his brother for having his back.
He entered the room slowly and quietly. You were placing the babe in a crib on the balcony. It was shaded from the sun, shielded to remain the perfect temperature, and yet gave him access to fresh air, to the breeze.
You turned, eyes wide the second you saw Azriel. He moved to you so quickly that you could hardly process it. One second, your feet were on the ground, and the next, arms held you tight against him. Azriel was breathing deeply, memorizing your scent all over again.
He set you down, keeping you close to his chest, and sent a prayer to the Mother. "Elain hid all the letters," he began slowly. "She kept them all in her room. I didn't know. Had I known about you, about him, I would have crawled the very depths of hell to bring you back home to me."
You didn't answer. Tears fell as your body relaxed into him. It wasn't fair. The hold he had on you. The need you still felt in your bones when he touched your skin. You ached for Azriel so deeply it echoed into your bones. You longed for his smell. His voice.
Azriel took your silence as permission to continue. "I made a mistake. I will never be able to make up for it. Elain knew the second you left, I wanted to correct this. I was so blinded by her, by the feeling of being needed like that again, that I forgot how precious your independence was. How beautiful it is."
He couldn't stop himself from kissing the top of your head. "You are all I think about. Morning, noon, and night, it is always and will always be you. I am so sorry for what I have done. I am sorry for hurting you, for ruining us, for hurting the family we should be raising together. There are no words for my remorse."
"Why?" Your voice broke as you asked. "Why wasn't I enough?"
Azriel pulled back to look at you, hand raising to hold your chin and force eye contact. "Y/n, you are not at fault for my actions. You did nothing wrong. There is no partial blame, no what ifs. I fucked up. I made a mistake and it cost both of us everything. You are the victim of my actions, not the catalyst."
He saw you process those words and saw as they sunk in. "You were and are more than I will ever deserve. I want to spend my lifetime making up for it. Becoming a male you are proud of. I want to be the father I never got to have. I want to be the husband and mate you deserve. I know it will take time, and I do not expect your forgiveness today, but if you give me a chance, I will go to my grave worshipping the ground you two walk."
"Do you want to meet our son?" He broke at the question, feeling the bond opening back on your end. "This doesn't mean we're back together. It means we need to coparent for him while we work on things." He nodded rapidly, following you to the bassinet.
It felt like the world was coming full circle. You knew it would take time, that you two had many things to discuss first. This was a needed good start, though. Your pain eased slightly as you pulled back the curtains to the crib and whispered, "Azriel, this is Nox, your son."
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@hnyclover @glitterypirateduck @slytherinindisguise @mischiefmanager @bloodicka @starsinyourseyes @the-sweet-psycho
**I have received some pretty nasty anon asks, some unconstructive comments, and a good amount of general negativity regarding this fic. If you are unhappy with the ending and want to know why I made the choices I made as the author, click #discussingherewithoutyou. Unconstructive comments will be receiving the same copy and paste answer from here forward.
My time and content are free. If you do not like them, scroll.
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pupcuck · 7 months
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PUPPY LOVE !
ft. leon s. kennedy x f!reader
tags. puppy hybrids, knotting, chris is the owner but he’s like not fucking, virginity loss, vendetta leon, age gap, lots of spit
notes. i write gn reader usually but this is super sickeningly self indulgent so it’s fem reader ughdhfh im so sorry this is crossposted on my ao3 :3 NOT BETA READ If u see a typo no you didn’t!!! I am so humiliated by this fic um this only makes sense with vendetta Leon so keep him in mind
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“C’mon, buddy, ain’t it a cutie?” You’re being held up, some scary man's hands under your armpits, legs dangling in the air as he shows you off to an older dog.
It. How rude. You’re a lady for god's sake. An ill-tempered little lady in fact. This is growing tedious, so you let out a noise of warning, and clamp down on his forearm with your canines. They’re just in. Fresh and white. Had taken a while, you were a bit of a late bloomer, but they're here now, and that’s all that matters.
“Shit,” the man clicks his tongue, “you got some spunk, huh, pup?” He places you down on the ground, and you sink to your knees with a soft huff. “What’d you think, Leon?”
So that’s his name. The older dog, Leon. He looks worn out and mean. Brows furrowed, wrinkled forehead, dark hair that obscures most of his face. What a creep. You’ve been set up, the old lady at the pet shop told you this was going to be fun! She said you were gonna meet someone handsome, a stud who’d give you puppies. This dog looks like he doesn’t even go into rut anymore. His glory days are so over. Ten years past his prime. You stick your nose in the air and refuse to acknowledge him. He does the same.
“Leon, come on, buddy,” the man, well, you guess he’s your owner now, tries to coax him over, “don't be like this.”
Leon simply rolls onto his side, his ears flopping over so the pink underside is seen. Rude. You’re so pretty any normal mutt would be begging for it. But, you guess he’s just faulty. ‘Cause he’s an old man. Duh. This is so unfair, a pampered pooch like you deserves so much better. A two bedroom apartment with a single bathroom, and an open-plan kitchen is just not classy.
“Fuck, Leon, you always gotta be so damn difficult.” Your owner crouches down, fastens a collar around your neck. It’s pink so that's good at least. You’re a stupid pup, can’t quite make out what’s engraved on the doggy bone charm, but you assume it would be your name. “There you go, girl, you like it?”
You tilt your head to the side, but ultimately nod your head with a forced smile. Getting on your owner’s good side would be ideal. Maybe he’d spoil you a little extra. He’s awfully handsome when you take a moment to really look at him. Why couldn’t he have been the stud?
“That’s a good girl,” he presses a soft kiss to your head, “why don’t you go make yourself comfortable, pup?” He gives you a little smack on the bottom, makes you jump. Gosh. His hands are so big. He’s so big. You felt the way he flexed under your teeth earlier. So much meat to him.
With another huff, you walk around, sniff the couch cushions, press a dainty paw to the wall, admire all the framed photos. They’ve been together for a long time it seems. Your owner and Leon. He used to be perfectly pretty. Sunflower blonde, dopey smile on his slightly rounded face, puppy fat softening all his rough edges. Cute. You wish he still looked like that. His tail looks like more of a blur in the photos, towards the end he starts to mellow out, turning into what you’ve seen of him today. Moody.
“Leon was a military dog,” your owner explains. You don’t know what that means, but you think it’s important. Considering all the strange clothes with leather straps and that ugly green print, there’s even a gun in your owner’s hands. “He’s retired now though. I thought you’d cheer him up a little.”
You blink at your owner, pressing your nose into his hand when he offers it, pink tongue licking at his salty fingers. Yeah, you like him. He’s firm and sweet. Smiles at you in a way that’s kind. Leon is the only problem. Whatever. He’ll kick the bucket soon enough, or maybe your owner will get tired of him. After all, you can’t teach an old dog new tricks, but you’ve got plenty up your sleeve to show off. Rolling over, batting your lashes, smiling, looking pretty. You’ve got it handled.
“You know how to speak, pup?” Owner cups your cheeks, “my name is Chris,” he says it slowly, waits till you repeat it back to him.
“Chris…” you’re hesitant to speak, unsure of if you did it right. He pats your head, offers you a paw-shaped treat, that must mean you did well.
“Such a good girl, aren’t you?” Gosh. You like him lots ‘n lots. This place ain’t so bad after all.
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“She’s settling in well,” Chris is on the phone with somebody, “no, course not, god, she’s a star.” He’s talking ‘bout you, and you like it. You’re the apple of his eye these days.
He scratches behind your ears as you sit beside him, chewing on a squeaky toy you gnawed at so bad it popped. Leon is laying on the floor as usual, sleeping soundly on a warm spot. You'd given him a shifty kick earlier, but he just grunted through a heavy snore.
It gets lonely when Chris leaves for the day, you often find yourself nesting in his bed, sniffing his pillow, chewing on one of his shirts for comfort. You get scolded for all the pin-sized holes left by your needle-sharp teeth, but you continue to do it. Leon is mean. He bares his teeth when you try to play, kicks you away when you try to curl into him at night, all sorts of things. He’s no fun, it’s why you cling to Chris’ leg, whine and scratch at the door, kick your legs and throw back your head to wail.
The door clicks shut after a short tussle between your teeth and the rough fabric of Chris’ jeans. You sniffle and curl up against the front door. This is so cruel of him. Why can’t he just stay and play all day? You have so many games planned that Leon never wants to partake in. Tug of war, fetch, tummy rubs, kisses, cuddles. It’ll be so much fun! And yet there’s nobody to do it with.
You nose at his cheek as he sleeps in his usual spot. Just by the window, bathed in the warmth of the yolky sunlight, chest rising and falling in tandem with his breaths. His nose scrunches ever so often, his tail mostly still, other than the little flick to the side it makes when you approach him carefully. He smells good. That’s the one thing you like about Leon. His scent. It’s thick and rich and has your gut bubbling with an unfamiliar feeling. However, you welcome it, it feels good to you. Makes you squeeze your thighs together.
“Leon,” your slurring speech makes his brows furrow, his lips downturned, “play with me.”
A low sound rumbles deep in his chest when you continue to prod at him, is he seriously growling at you? This dog has no manners whatsoever. Seriously, who raised him? It can’t have been Chris. “Leon,” you drag it out this time, whining as you clamber on top of him.
Sniffing his neck, you lick at his Adam’s apple, watch as it bobs when he swallows. He opens his eyes, glares at you through light lashes, swats at your face.
“Play with me, Leon,” your bottom lip juts out, giving him those eyes that no one is able to say no to. None of the pet shop workers could, and Chris certainly can’t, so Leon should surely fall for it.
Leon’s eye twitches, his lip curls upwards, flashing those big teeth of his. It’s a warning that you take with a grain of salt. “Leon, ‘m wanna play,” you say again, wriggling on top of him, your hands planted on that firm chest of his.
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You’re a pest. A mutt at best. A bother, a hindrance, all of the above. Leon doesn’t know many other words. He has no clue on whose idea this was, couldn’t have been Chris on his own, must’ve been his sister. Or the lady with the pixie cut, one who brings him treats whenever she visits. ‘Cause Chris knows him well enough. Knows that Leon likes to be alone lately. That a new puppy is just an extra mouth to feed for Chris. He doesn’t need company, doesn’t appreciate a hyperactive pup kneeing him in the gut every hour in an attempt to play some kiddy games.
Total cutie. He’ll give you that. Soft and sweet like all puppies are. Floppy ears, fluffy tail, cute teeth that don’t do much damage. Droopy tits, layer of pudge that puppies tend to have, full hips, and a pert ass.
Now, Leon would never hurt you on purpose. It’s why he sticks to threats he never follows through with. Snarling, baring his teeth, the regular shit. Would get any normal pup scampering away from him, but you’re spoiled rotten. You get what you want at the drop of a hat. He blames that on Chris. Old age has made him sappy. Old age has only made Leon feel like shit. His bones ache on the daily, can’t even get up to bark at the mailman anymore, his walks have been cut down to half an hour once a day, finds it harder to chew on those dental bones Chris tosses him. Stressful times. And the cherry on top of his shit sandwich is you. The little nuisance who insists on bothering him no matter what.
“Leon,” you start again, talking in that high-pitched tone, an excessive amount of spit garbling your speech, “play!”
Christ, you don’t know when to give up. He gives you a light shove, hopes it’s enough to deter you, of course that's just wishful thinking. You bounce back fast. Pressing your forehead to his, you muster up your nastiest glare. Cute. You’re cute when you do that. “Play with me.” Each word is punctuated by your fists smacking down on his chest.
You’re hovering over him, bare bottom on his clothed lap, tits pressed flush to his chest. Every piece of clothing Chris tried to put on you was deemed itchy. Snipping off the labels never helped, you seem to only like cashmere, expensive taste. So he gave up. Lets you wander around in your birthday suit.
“I don’t want to play,” Leon gets out through gritted teeth, expression contorting into one of restraint when you rock your hips back and forth absentmindedly. You’re being playful. Trying to get him up, trying to get any sort of reaction from him. But he can feel you. Leon’s been out of business for a long time. He was so damn sure his dick had malfunctioned a couple years back. No seed left to spare. This old dog was dried out.
This is all it took to get him fixed up? Puppy cunt? God. What a sicko. He sits up, hands on your hips to still you. Your brow quirks in confusion, blinking at him dumbly. Poor puppy. Don’t even know how wet you are. How your heady scent is coating the walls, making it unbearable for Leon to even breathe. He’s going fuckin’ crazy.
Leon pins you down, hair hanging in your face as he hovers over you. “Playing?” You ask him, face lighting up at the prospect of getting him to join in on your games.
Oh, he’ll teach you a new game, alright. It’s cute how you act all haughty, get Chris running around like a headless chicken ‘cause you’ve got so many demands, when really you’re just a stupid pup. Can’t even take care of yourself. Walkin’ around with this drippy pussy, an itch so deep in your core you can’t scratch it. Leon can’t lie, he’s cracked open an eye to see you trying your best to get rid of it. The ache in your lower belly. Rubbing yourself all over that pink teddy Chris brought back after a trip. Pressing its wet snout deep into your cunt to get rid of that strange tingle, but to no avail. Leon found it a little funny. He remembers being that way.
The sound you let out when he spreads your fat pussy is adorable. A whine that borders on a yelp. You’re frightened and confused for a moment, until his fingertips find your swollen clit, pushing back the hood, swiping over it again and again. Then you melt into a puddle of goop. That’s right. Must feel so damn good. You’ve got a chubby cunt, pillowy lips that hide your bud from his view, fluffy fur all over your tummy and crotch that’ll shed in a few months time and grow back in a darker shade. Cute little thing. He’s gonna eat you up.
He bullies his way between your thighs. Your scent is so much thicker now. Clinging to his skin in a way he’ll be unable to wash off. The first swipe of his tongue through your folds has your hips bucking up, pelvis mashing into his nose a little painfully. Leon makes sure to hold you down. You’re sugary sweet in his mouth, like he’s bitten into a ripe fruit. Your pussy sure is the sweetest peach he’s ever seen.
“Leon…” you grab at his ears, tug on them to combat the immense pleasure that tears through you. Ouch. He’s gotta get Chris to trim those claws of yours down.
His hand is splayed across your tummy, holding you down as he buries his face in your cunt. Leon nips at your inner thighs then goes back to making those obnoxious noises that any lady with dignity would be mortified by. But you’re a stupid puppy that can’t tell left from right. Eyes rolling back into your skull as he slurps away, lips smacking noisily, his tongue fucking in and out of that tight hole.
Your toes curl in your fluffy socks, hips arching up despite his hold on them, pussy gushing like a burst pipe all over him. “There you go, atta girl,” Leon hums, flicking your clit one last time for good measure. He smiles at the sound you let out, a pitchy yap of irritation.
More where that came from. You got him all worked up. That hasn’t happened in years. His cock is dripping, a wet patch forms in the front of his sweats that he’s quick to lower. Your mouth waters at the sight, smiling at him all dopey. It’s instinct, it seems, for you to be a greedy, cock-hungry little pup. Leon’s all for enthusiasm, so he’ll give it to you, reward the spoiled little pup.
He’s sheathed inside of you in no time. You’re made for this sorta thing. Made to be a breeding bitch if he wants to get crude about it. So he doesn’t worry too much ‘bout how you’re adjusting. Just moves his hips forward sharply, fat tip jabbing at your cervix, and watching as you tremble.
“Mmm, Leon,” your nails scratch down his chest, ears flattening against your head as you gaze up at him with starry eyes. This all it takes to calm you down? Some dick? Leon’s willing to give it whenever you get rowdy. Spit pools in your mouth, dribbles down your chin, and he’s quick to lick it up. You don’t know how to kiss him. But you try. It’s clumsy and open-mouthed, your tiny hands cupping his stubbly cheeks as you just kinda slobber all over the lower half of his face. That’s alright. Leon got the hang of it after about five years. He can teach you.
You’re sucking his dick in, pussy tight around him like a vice, his balls slap against your ass. It’s so good. Fuck. He should’ve done this sooner. Should’ve jumped you the moment Chris brought you home. What an idiot. He was basically gifting Leon a living fuckdoll and he missed out on it for a good month or so. You’re so easy, kicking your legs, and digging your nails into his biceps as you cream on his fat cock, leaving a ring of milky white around the base.
He’s old now, can’t help the way his breath is a little ragged as he nears his high, can’t last as long as he used to. Don’t matter anyway. ‘Cause you’re satisfied. He fills you up like a creampuff. There’s a little surprise on your face when his knot begins to swell, stretching your cute hole till it’s gaping.
“Fun.” You tell him with a sleepy smile. Leon’s tongue smooths over your fluffy ears, he remembers his fur being this soft. They’re wet with perspiration, but he likes the taste of you. He grooms you to his heart's content. It’s been a while since he’s done any of that. Makes him feel rather happy actually. Like a weight has lifted from his chest. You’re falling asleep so he manages to roll over, careful not to move too fast and tear you in half while he’s knotted. He has you on top of him, face in his neck as you snore lightly. The warmth is putting him to sleep too.
Leon only stirs when he hears the jingle of keys and a few voices from down the hall. You’re still knocked out and drooling. The front door opens, Chris is talking to someone he tries to pick up on through smell.
“Jesus, buddy, what’d you do to her?” Chris kneels down beside them, pats Leon’s head then yours.
“They do get along well, Chris,” it’s Rebecca, she’s smiling down at Leon, he can sniff out those expensive treats in the pocket of her winter coat. “Guess it’s just when you’re around.”
“No, no, I swear,” he holds his hands up in defence, “Leon’s always being a fuckin’ bastard when it comes to her.”
“You’re just being mean to him,” Rebecca says, cooing as she pinches Leon’s cheek, “hey, there, good boy.”
“Yeah,” Chris lets out an exasperated laugh, “sure, whatever, glad you like your new pal, buddy.”
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eyelessfaces · 11 months
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apology
miguel o'hara x reader
summary: miguel hasn’t come home in weeks. he tries to make it up to you.
warnings: smut, porn with minimal plot, oral sex (f receiving), unprotected piv sex, a bit of angst, we're a bit mean to miguel because we're mad at him
tags: f!reader, sub!miguel (hell yeah), we make miguel suffer (sorry bb)
word count: 1k
masterlist | taglist | ao3
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Miguel hadn’t come home in weeks, and it was with a guilty pinched smile and a bouquet of flowers that he reappeared at your doorstep. 
When you first saw him, you wanted to take the flowers from his hands and slam the door right in front of his face, but you knew that he certainly had a good reason and excuse to have done what he had done. 
He didn’t tell you much about it; you figured it was more about his spiderman activities than about his work, because he rarely told you about the spider stuff, wanting to keep you as far away from it as possible. You were sometimes mad that he wouldn’t tell you anything about it, but he kept on insisting that it was for your own good, that you shouldn’t get too close to it. He had already paid the price.
He apologized, apologized and apologized about not coming back for so long. You told him that it was fine, but he knew it wasn’t, he knew that you were hurt, he saw how you wouldn’t look him in the eyes.
He didn’t need this; he didn’t need you to hate him, it might be even worse and scarier than every universe collapsing.
He owed you an apology, a real one. He didn’t know if what he had in mind could work, but he could try.
Which was why he found himself with your thighs caging his face, your hand tightly gripping his hair. He sometimes got carried away, kissing and biting at your thighs while he repeated that he was sorry, over and over again, before you tugged his hair into diving back into eating you out like it was the last time he did it.
If you repressed your moans to let him know that you were still mad, he was doing all the contrary. He deeply enjoyed this, and he wanted you to know it. If he could spend the whole night between your thighs he would, and even though his crotch ached for some friction, all that mattered to him at that moment was you and your pleasure.
He mouthed at your pussy as if he was making out with it; licking long, slow and languid stripes through your folds, gathering your slick over his tongue as if it was the sweetest thing he had ever tasted. 
He pulled away to kiss the inside of your thighs, and just as you were about to scold him for it, he left a kiss at your clit before gently curling the tip of his tongue around it, making a strangled moan leave your mouth. 
He smugly smiled at your reaction but quickly got back to work; he actually thought of something better, and pulled away, making you groan at the loss.
He laid down on the bed and pulled you on top of him so you could straddle his chest, and you huffed out a laugh when he started to beg you to sit on his face, pulling your hips higher up his body so you could use him as you wished.
“Use me baby, I deserve to be used”
And it was a good idea, you had to admit. You could control it all now, grinding onto his face as if he was just an object. His nails were digging into the meat of your thighs, marking crescents into your skin as he hummed against you, his broad hands then shifting to your ass so he could knead the tender flesh, pushing you even lower onto his face. You even wondered how he could breathe, but your concern quickly flew out the window when his nose rubbed against your clit. 
Your hand had unconsciously fisted onto his hair to hold him in place as you rocked yourself harder against his tongue, fucking it until you lost your mind; you pulled away and straddled his chest just as you were about to come, leaving him confused and wondering as he caught his breath, the lower half of his face drenched in your juices. 
He licked his lips clean, looking up at you with half lidded eyes, so fucking pussy drunk. He sounded so gone when he asked you why you pulled away, but he looked even more gone as you got rid of his pants and explained that you wanted to come on his cock but that he wouldn’t get to come.
He let out a small whimper when you lowered yourself onto him, his hands finding and gripping your hips in a bruising hold. 
You bounced on him at an unforgiving pace; his head was thrown back into the pillows as he let out small moans, trying to contain himself.
You leaned onto him and kissed his neck, softly biting at the warm skin before repositioning and putting your hands over his chest, his muscles softly twitching under your touch, your soft moans driving him even crazier.
You were close, you knew it, and so did he. He watched down to where you were connected and bit on his bottom lip as he guided your hips up and down, your rocking more languid as you tried to reach your peak. You felt him twitch inside of you and reminded him not to come, and he responded with a small wail as he nodded, still biting hard on his bottom lip, the poor skin almost bleeding.
You came with a silent cry, his hips snapping up into you and burying himself even deeper as he worked you through your orgasm, focusing on every muscle of his body to try not to come as you rode out your high on his lap, his own about to tip over the edge. 
He whined as you climbed off of him, his orgasm stolen away from him, just as you had promised. 
You watched with awe and a sly smirk as his body stiffened, his cock twitching desperately in front of you, his hands pawing at the bedsheets in frustration. 
You smirked proudly, putting a hand at his cheek before kissing his lips then his forehead, his eyes shutting tight.
"Look at you baby" you cooed, looking down at your hand softly stroking his thigh to tease him even more, so damn close to where he needed you. “Maybe I'm a bit less mad at you.”
please give me feedback if you liked this, I appreciate every single comment and they motivate me to keep going!!
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spiderman 2099 taglist: @bubuslutty @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @mintgreen24 @dameronshandholder @spider-starry @jakecockley @midnight-the-shadow-wolf @cocodiem @pedropascalsidechick @spxctorsslxt @roxannarichie @vicolangelo @amb3rrz @inluvvwithme @friedwings @chaotic-neon-sign @foxglove-grove @ilovemiguelohara @pandq707 @gobblegluckgluckgod @weasleybuns @midgardian-witch @daemontqrg
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angelltheninth · 5 months
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Shinichiro Sano Eats You Out for the First Time
Pairing: Shinichiro Sano x Fem!Reader
Tags: nsfw, smut, cunnilingus, first orgasm, fingering, clit sucking, thigh kissing, biting, praise, toy use, orgasm encouragement
A/N: Smut commission! Sano is so good! Where are all my Sano lovers at?
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8. “I’ve been wondering what it feels like…”
Shinichiro kissed up and down your belly, sometimes pushing his tongue out to tickle you, not even noticing how tight you got around his finger when his lips closed in on your pussy. "You don't need to be shy you know. Not with me."
"I-I know." You were both naked, many times in fact, shyness had long since left the building. "I've been wondering what it feels like... getting eaten out." Shinichiro paused inches from licking your folds. His midnight eyes glanced from your wet pussy to your face, "What? Is that weird? You don't have to if you don't want to."
"What's weird is that you just told me no one's ever done this for you before." He moved his finger in and out slowly before easing it out, "I can do that for you if you want." He closed in, kissing down your thigh and placing a soft kiss to your clit, "This pussy deserves some love too, after all it made my feel good so many times before."
Your eyes followed him and his hard cock when he stood up and walked to his closet. He turned around, holding a vibrating pocketpussy and pumping it up and down on his length. He returned back to the bed, angling his hips a little bit upwards so he could still thrust in and out of the slowly and quietly vibrating toy. When he pushed his mouth against you it was obvious why he did this, he was moaning directly against your clit.
His rough fingers spread your pussy open so his tongue could slide in between easily, from your hole to your clit. You could hardly keep your eyes open against the assault of his tongue, making your body melt against his. You draped your legs over his shoulders, allowing him to rock your body together with his when he fucked the pussy toy beneath him.
Shinichiro started sucking on your clit, moaning as you rolled your hips into his mouth. He pulled back and lay his tongue flat against it, teasing you before moving back down to your pussyhole and pushing his tongue inside, licking around and lapping up your horny juices into his mouth, completely getting drunk off your taste.
From your pussy to your thighs his lips spread your cum over your legs and then agonizingly slowly back to your clit which begged or attention. He would always provide. That's the kind of man Shinichiro was.
As much as he wants to fuck you instead of his toy he wants to make this all about you. He keeps closing and relaxing his jaw against you, licking his whole tongue over your pussy, from the entrance to your puffy clit, "Looking so fucking pretty. Tasting even better. Want you to come on my face, in my mouth." His finger pokes at your entrance, "My new favorite meal right here."
Your legs trembled around him, "Shinichiro!" You pushed his head between your legs, only allowing him to move his tongue and rut his hips into the toy, moaning louder, quicker, his mouth getting sloppy. As he opened them and pushed his finger inside you he came into it.
"Fuck, wish it was your pussy." Your back arched into him as you dug your feet into the bed, squirting all over his face as he kept pumping his finger in and out of you fast then slow to help you come down from your orgasm, "Easy, I'm here." Shinichiro whispered when he heard your hiccups and whimpers, "You'll get used to it don't worry. You did so well, my good, pretty girl." He should probably get up and clean out the toy but instead he kept kissing your pussy, clit and thighs. Just a minute longer, he wanted to taste you for just a minute longer.
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