#implying that he doesn’t care about doing the right thing is saying the same thing that person said;

[jasontoddenthusiastt]

I think fans want Jason to be a good person or be becoming one. To have a character that is well meaning and compassionate but decided murder is ok and to stand against main heroes who’s beliefs and actions go against the people he cares about and wants in his life. It’s confusing for people. People want their fav characters to be happy. But Jason can’t have his family’s support and follow his moral code. He’s cares about people and Gotham, and he’s an asshole who kills. It’s messy. It’s not black and white. I don’t even think Jason cares about being a good person or in the right anymore. I think he cares about what will save the most people instead.

Oh my goodness gracious I’ve been bamboozled

Batman’s definition of Good is not synonymous with absolute good/right no matter how much dc insists it is. Torture, battery/assault, surveillance, those are all condemnable actions too. I won’t get into the exhausting and frankly dumb debate of comic book morality wrt killing because I’ve already reblogged plenty of posts from other people who explained my thoughts on the matter far better than I ever have the patience to sit down and articulate. I also just think the notion that there’s something to be done about fictional characters who kill nazis and senseless murderers is stupid. Jason’s point is that the “main” heroes’ sanitized definition of right has its unaddressed holes and flaws which ultimately result in more preventable fatalities, and that he’ll work to correct those missing spots.

He doesn’t not care about doing what’s right. What he doesn’t care about (at least during his Winick characterization) is whether Batman thinks he’s right or wrong, because he sees the flaws in Batman’s methodology (and since he has a mind of his own). Batman’s methods alone cannot address Arkham’s revolving door and the rogues that come and go through those doors who have no intention (or capability from the doylist pov) of ever changing or undergoing redemption. Jason knows that he’s minimizing the number of preventable deaths by killing his targets, typically Characters Who Simply Do Fucked Up Shit Just Because, Why The Fuck Not?

Secondly, Jason is compassionate … to a fault. That was his fatal flaw. If he wasn’t so hell-bent on saving his potential birth mother he just met from that bomb despite everything she did to him prior, he could have protected himself instead, however slim his odds of survival were. What about his relationship with his other parents? He was a caregiver during his early childhood years for Catherine, until her death. Even mature adults who are financially stable find being a caregiver to a dying parent to be extremely burdensome on their bodies and minds, but he never complained about it or resented Catherine for being unable to care for him. Despite how none of his parents have really been what he needed them to be, he doesn’t blame them for their failings, and even continues to think highly of them (Bruce included).

And post-death? Enter Lost Days. Despite being dead set on plotting his revenge on Bruce, he constantly sidelines this in order to save other victims who are helpless like he once was. His own anger, trauma, and mission don’t remain his priority. (Sound familiar? Something something my own trauma above my son’s, mission above all else, etc.). Why would he waste precious time and risk his own life to do this if he wasn’t empathetic towards these victims or didn’t care about doing the right thing. He is simultaneously horribly traumatized and full of rage, and also incapable of ignoring what’s happening to victims around him (even as he claims that it’s indeed not his priority). And in that same vein, the entire premise of his rebirth outlaws run was that he doesn’t care if the public views him as a villain, an outlaw, so long as he can protect Gotham. And anyway where is this portrayal of him not caring about being in the right anymore. Almost every modern Jason story is about him grappling with where he stands with Bruce/Batman. During the early 2000s was probably the last time he did not care (hello, tentatodd??).

Jason has very evidently been portrayed as a kind and compassionate character. He is also simultaneously a calculated killer who doesn’t hesitate to kill when he deems necessary, and does so without remorse. It’s called being a Complex Character With An Edge™ that as you said, people so often claim to love. However when he fulfills that latter part, that seems to upset people because “killing bad”, and they then try to shave off and round out all his edges and claim he shouldn’t be that angry. In that case I guess you should just stick to liking traditional one-dimensional characters instead of claiming to like Jason but then encouraging his character assassination attempt by dc. Lol.

Lastly, who said anything about the batfam making Jason happy? Just because he’s written nowadays to want acceptance from Bruce (a shoddy attempt at forcing a non-existent nuclear batfamily), doesn’t mean that it’s a sound decision or that it does his character justice. I certainly don’t empathize with the idea that Jason needs the family’s approval or acceptance to be happy. (And anyway he has enough outlets for angst and pain aside from the batfam hello explore his other sources of trauma and do more deep dives into how he thinks when he’s alone). I don’t want them to magically make up and become one big happy family. This is not disney Lol. Besides, there are plenty of stories from dc that have that type of “wholesome” (hate that word utilization) characterization for Jason (Li’l Gotham, Tiny Titans, wfa, and even new stuff like the brave and the bold mini) and that is sufficient imo. Jason fans who are invested in the character deserve accurate, nuanced characterization and well-written stories, whether they be from his robin days (e.g., Batman: The Cult) or as red hood.

#fellas. ya know what else is wholesome? avenging your own death #you can have moments of ‘reconciliation’ or peace but still maintain a strained relationship which is far more realistic #‘he’s an asshole that kills’ and Bruce is an asshole who doesn’t kill. lol. #you can’t claim Jason’s conflicted and disturbed but go on to say Bruce is perfectly sane those two are mutually exclusive #also please realize that a character acting out of anger does not mean they lack compassion. #implying that he doesn’t care about doing the right thing is saying the same thing that person said; #that he doesn’t actually know what he’s doing. that he hasn’t thought through his moral stance. #‘Jason didn’t put any thought into anything he did in utrh he’s just a poor mentally ill lost soul who needs the batfam’s love to heal 💔’ #🤝 #‘jokers just a poor victim of society 😔 he just needs someone to understand him and maybe one day he’ll heal and realize he’s wrong’ #what they both have in common is that they’re misunderstood in opposite directions #the joker doesn’t have a point to prove. there’s no deeper meaning behind what he does. everything is a joke to him. #he isn’t unaware of right vs wrong lmfao #jason todd #dc #asks #my post #and I think you’re implying that he’s utilitarian based on that last part but I don’t think he is #user mintacle posted a few metas regarding that and again they explain it much better than I prob could #anyway it isn’t difficult to understand his character if you know why you like him and you actually read his stories #that post specifically was from someone who clearly said they did not read the comic so. technically they’re on their own wavelength #edit: grammar

[satoruhour]

LAUNDRY DAY

a/n: I AM ALLIVEEEEEEE 🔥🔥🔥🔥 sorry i had a crazy week! can be read as a standalone piece but based off gojo’s roommate au of here and here / tagging @jabamin @hyomagiri @utahimeow @lov3rbody ☆

wc: 4k

warnings: sub!gojo that turns into dom!gojo, fem!reader, fantasising? gojo is a pervert too, mentions of semi-public sex, implied somnophilia, panty sniffing, pillow / dry humping, m! masturbation, oral (m receiving), deep-throating, praise, pet names, unprotected sex, multiple rounds, creampie / breeding kink, n*sfw under the cut

living with you was hard. brushing his teeth with you was hard. being around you — hard. both figuratively and—

there’s a loud sigh from you.

clearly tired from the day’s activities of ushering in freshman after freshman, you lugged your body into the bathroom. the same rehearsed words have been leaving your mouth as your cheeks hurt more and more by the hour, only to repeat it all over again the next day.

“you look like shit,” it’s muffled by the way the toothbrush is stuffed into his mouth, foam peeking out from the corners of his mouth and you’re trying not to tell your roommate (and boyfriend) to shut up — you didn’t have the energy to do, much less say anything and you certainly didn’t have time for your lover’s clever quips so late in the night.

it didn’t help that you recently had an argument too; well, trivial to him but much more major to you. it was a matter of getting gojo to keep his laundry properly and to clean up after himself once he’s gotten himself comfortable in the relationship. it’s not like he doesn’t want to — he was cleaning up in the first place to impress you — but now since he’s got you, it’s like he simply expects you to act as his little wife when it was a shared space. the exact argument you used against him.

“satoru— this is a shared apartment! you can’t just leave tteokbokki cups lying around with the gochujang sauce still inside! it’s going to attract cockroaches and ants!” you gesture wildly, the sheer amount of trash lying around making you even sicker than you thought possible. getting paid to usher in freshmen and then coming home to this? it felt like every cent of your hard work had gone to waste.

there’s only a grin on his face, “you’re so attractive when you’re mad, baby.”

that was another thing: the lack of seriousness that gojo possessed at times, simply talking to piss you off, simply living to be the bane of your existence. “and you’re fucking unbelievable, gojo satoru. clean up— or don’t,” you made sure to lace that last word with venom, “i don’t care.”

that seemed enough for gojo to snap out of his stupor, “no, no— princess, fuck, i’m s—” his brows furrow when he briefly spots the thickening glaze of your eyes, possibly filling with tears before you’re marching into your room to slam the door and he swears to himself. satoru had never felt embarrassment and shame and sadness like that day; having just taken a shower but his skin was sweaty and uncomfortable and his heart sat right at his feet.

gojo swears he never wants to hear you say his full name ever again.

since then, it’s been a little tense between the two of you. geto had noticed it on movie night, shoko realised you haven’t been looking at your phone as often. hell, even prof. yaga had to tell you that you were distracted way too much lately, and it’s only been two days.

satoru tried to possibly take back what he said with whatever powers he didn’t possess, but he only gets another sigh from you as you squeeze the toothpaste out and start brushing your teeth, not even sparing him one glance in the mirror.

and yet while he was the first one to start his nightly routine, he’s left to be the last again from the way he’s unable to stop staring at you, a recurring trait of his whenever you were in the same room with him. it’s a testament of how attracted he was to you — at how his shirt slips off your shoulder from how big it was because even when you were mad at him, you forgot about that little detail. gojo’s eyes trail from your exposed shoulder to your legs and back up again to your fatigued face. he skims over the shape of your eyes and down to your nose and he thinks he’s the luckiest man to be brushing his teeth beside you now, blessed with seeing such an intimate side of you even if it’s as simple as this.

until gojo’s eyes fall upon your mouth as your toothbrush is doing its job of perfect innocence, cleaning some teeth, scraping off the bacteria on your tongue, except when you’re switching it from side to side all your roommate can think about if it was his dick instead. and the thought leaves him as fast it comes.

all you do is shoot him a weird look through the mirror when gojo exclaims like he was a vampire whose skin burned under the bathroom lighting, and he regains composure with ease.

“i’m fine! fine. doing a-okay.” satoru speaks through the foam and it’s spraying everywhere and you’re too tired to care before you hear another gulp when you move your toothbrush again, “sorry! sorry— continue please.”

gojo is starstruck for an entirely different reason, now, watching the toothbrush making bulges at the side of your mouth as it moves in and out and he’s left to fantasise about the many, many times you’ve gotten him in you and the warmth of everything. he can feel himself get hard under his sweatpants when you start brushing your tongue and you gag and he wants to die standing in this 30 square foot bathroom because the last thing he wants to do is sexualise something perfectly mundane.

gojo isn’t like that (well, most of the time. can’t blame him for finding you smokin’ hot).

“what the fuck is your problem?” you’re speaking through your foamy mouth now, spitting it out and proceeding to clean up with no clue of what you do to him. satoru on the other hand — terribly excited that you’d even open your mouth to talk to him after two days of endless silent treatment. 

“nothing, baby. it’s nothing, i promise.” you can’t lie at the way your heart jumps at the familiarity of it all, of being in such proximity to your lover, doing domestic things like these and the ‘baby’ and yet your pride is holding you back on everything.

you go straight to sleep, too, not wanting to entertain anything related to gojo satoru and you feel just a little bad when he looks at you with those baby blues and a sweet pout on his face. he looked especially pathetic in the bathroom, like a deer caught in headlights at just the presence of you and you want nothing more to apologise. it’s never that easy, though; you needed a promise, you needed the reassurance that he wouldn’t be leaving you to clean up after him again.

all these worries are willed away when you finally fall into slumber in your own room, body craving the warmth of satoru unknowingly. you had stolen a pillow the day before and it’s been the sole source of his scent, the only thing to keep your mind sane.

gojo’s heart drops again upon seeing you already deep in sleep, thinking he had a chance to catch you before you did, but the needines for you never goes down even now. he cannot take his mind off the way you’d run your hands through his hair or tangle your legs with his, satoru’s limbs recall the memory of you playing with his fingers and how you like to curl your arms around his neck. 48 hours is enough for him to go insane, and also maybe at how your leg was propped up on his missing pillow, hugging it so tight to your chest. you hadn’t bothered to wear pants either, so all he can see is the shape of your cunt under.

he stalks into the room and kneels in front of you, finger so tempted to run along your folds and make you wet, staring a whole minute and weighing his options until decides he doesn’t deserve it, turning away and closing your door softly.

“going now, satoru.” it’s soft when you mumble it, not even wanting him to hear before you’re stopped. you’re donning the uni orientation shirt and eyebags, a soggy sandwich from yesterday staining your bag with its smell. “what?”

“made you somethin’,” gojo’s cute like this with a frilly apron and hair band, still managing to tower over you despite the adorable get-up he’s got on, “it’s a bento.”

and you wish you could just melt the pride that runs through your bones and kiss him all over, and you break just a little. a small smile and you walk up to him, grabbing the lunchbox and pecking him softly on the cheek, turning away fast enough to not catch his fangirl moment — because you knew you wouldn’t be able to make it on time if you did.

“we still have to talk later when i come back, okay?” you call out as you put on your shoes and you steal one last glance at him, “and today’s laundry day. you know what t—”

“yes ma’am!” gojo salutes and you roll your eyes with a small smile, locking the door behind you with heat on your cheeks and the pounding of your heart. it was difficult not to break when it came to satoru, when he’s trying so hard to win back your words and love, and so tonight you’ve decided after the tiring week is when you’d finally stop running away over such a small matter.

although, gojo got caught up in something way beyond your expectations even if he had his initial intentions (which involved ordering your favourite takeout and kneeling at the front door in apology). 

your roommate lays around for a bit before grabbing some lunch and heading to the back room, a little extension attached to the kitchen with a tune on his lips. it’s clear he’s a little driven by your little innocent peck, a sign that maybe you weren’t so mad any more. for the next hour, satoru is contently doing the laundry with a smile, until—

the panties you threw in before showering must have fallen to the bottom of the pile, the same one he saw you wear last night and he thinks maybe the low humming buzz he heard last night wasn’t his imagination because when he picks it up he can smell your arousal. there’s a stain from the previous night and another pool of juices from this morning and he now knows that it wasn’t the kettle.

“dirty girl,” he grins, “both yesterday and this morning?” he’s thought about this for the longest time, always holding himself back because you found him weird enough even before you were dating, always letting you do your own separate load for your undergarments. but since you’ve gotten together, you were more comfortable, throwing it into the same laundry basket — the compulsion has never been this strong before.

gojo puts it up to his nose and smells like the pervert he is, among other times: teasing you with a hand down your pants when the two were over at your dorm, fucking you in the kitchen as they focused on the movie, pounding into you with the windows open, and he almost ascends at the scent of your pussy juices. there’s a spark that goes down right to his core and he palms his bulge unconsciously, coming to his senses when the washing machine beeps.

he impatiently puts in the settings and leaves, heading straight for your room and is hit with all reminders of you. the perfume you used this morning and the body wash you share with him, walking almost under a trance to your bed where he moans at the softness of the sheets as he falls face first. it doesn’t take him much to scoot to your pillows, but the need for you is just too much.

gojo grinds his cock into the bed, whining softly as he whiffs up your natural body smell, hips moving on their own accord as he manoeuvres a pillow between his legs. he humps it like a dog, groaning and moaning and the strain on his dick is just too much, balling up the undies in his hand and his body tenses at the friction. 

“baby . . f-fuck—” satoru’s voice is high-pitched and choked, all the thoughts of you culminating into one big ball of desperation for you and he cums in his pants, tainting the fabric a darker colour than before. but he’s not done — his hips still move against the pillow, thrusting into the fluff as he rides out his orgasm, moans muffled by the pillow. “miss you . .”

gojo misses you more than anything, feeling so much distance even within the house that he flips over — by now the sun shines its golden rays a little less. the afternoon is winding down into a cool evening — and pulls at the waistband of his pants. he’s still sensitive, wrapping a hand around his hard cock and pumping and the sound that leaves his mouth is borderline slutty. with another smell of your cunt, he strokes his dick, using his cum as lube.

“oh . . r-right there— mhnng . .” satoru’s hips buck into his hand, squeezing and thumbing at his cock before unbundling your panties and wrapping them around his shaft. the sight drives him insane. sure, it’s one of your more everyday underwear, neutral in both design and colour but he can feel the fabric get wetter and wetter from how much cum he’s pushed out earlier and that’s enough to keep his hand pumping. “s-sweetness, cummin—”

gojo’s head makes a dent in your other pillow from how hard he was pushing it, back arching at how the warmth in his hand will never compare to your mouth or pussy. he can already feel his second orgasm approaching, your room filled with the squelch of his cock and his sounds and he shoots his load with a drawn out moan all over your panties and his stomach. his cum is always so much, dripping down his pelvis and onto his hand and also . . yours?

your boyfriend lets out the girliest scream you’ve ever had the pleasure of hearing, scrambling up to the headboard when he sees you hovering over his body. he accidentally kicks your chest in the process and you have to clutch it with a small “ow”, although a small smile is still present on your face.

“having fun?”

“dude, what the fuck?” 

your smile drops, “dude?”

gojo suddenly has his hands moving frantically, “nonono— no, sorry, i meant baby!”

you sigh, sitting back down on your heels as you take in the sight: his still hard cock and the sweat lining his body. his bangs are wet and your eyes flit down to your soiled underwear.

“uh . . i was just borrowing it,” gojo nervously chuckles, handing the cum-filled panty to you and your brows furrow.

“darling, you can’t just give someone back their clothes with your come on it.”

and your boyfriend pouts again, “i really am sorry. and for everything else, too. for not cleaning up and for being a general bum,” this is why you also (sometimes) favoured his unseriousness when you were talking about difficult things. the amount of times you had succumbed to his touches and kisses when you were mad at him was much better than your pride. gojo brings you onto his lap like his dick wasn’t just out, and you relish in the closeness you’ve missed.

“i need you to show me you mean it, ’toru,” he lights up at the nickname he loves just as you point a finger in his face, “aht! calm down. don’t think we’re all buddy-buddy again.”

“i will try,” gojo is smooth, taking your hand into his while the other brushes the hair away from your eyes. you lean into the touch, “and i will try until you see my efforts.”

you smile at his honesty, “and i’m sorry for ignoring you as well. it was childish of me.”

gojo hums, bringing your face in to plant a kiss to your lips, “i missed you like crazy, princess.”

you laugh, “yeah i can tell, i miss you too.” you gesture to all of him and he whines softly at the joke, squeezing your waist.

“you’re not weirded out?”

his breath hitches when you move down his body and situate yourself between them, finger tracing his tip and teasing him, “why would i be? i’ve literally fucked myself wearing your shirt.”

gojo gulps loudly, “you did w-what?”

“i’m just better at not getting caught.” all words are taken from his lips then, when your mouth engulfs him and the feeling of it is just pure insanity. gojo pants and his thighs tense, a hand gathering your hair into a ponytail to keep it from interfering. his eyes fixate on the way your suck him off, recalling the last time he’s watched you do that was in a damn bathroom. 

“y-your mouth—” satoru swears under his breath when you swirl your tongue around his shaft, the tip of his cock making bulges on the side of your mouth and it only leaves him calling out your name time after time.

“y’know,” you gargle on him, slurping up his cum, “i know what you were thinking starin’ at me last night.”

gojo snaps his fingers and mumbles out a shaky damn, because he can always be read like an open book. he just didn’t know he was that obvious.

“looked cute staring,” you mutter around him, “like a little puppy.”

you slap his thick length on your tongue, moaning when you feel just how heavy it is, “you just wanted this so bad, didn’t you?”

gojo whines at your words, nodding, and you go back to the abuse on his dick, bobbing your head up and down as your hand plays with his balls. the other moves over his torso, at the porcelain skin there and you can feel his stomach heaving at your ministrations.

“are you close, baby?” you ask mindlessly, the lewd sounds of his fat cock in your mouth sending sensations right down to your sex as well. you never really listen to his answer, taking a deep breath and sucking in your cheeks and soon you’re deep throating your lover.

“mh— mmf . .” sounds deep from your throat as your nose buries itself in his pubes, and satoru struggles to hold your tantalising stare. he can feel his tip hit the back of your throat and his moans are quick and high-pitched.

“cumming— ’m cumming,” before you come off and you go back to your pace and gojo’s small moans descend into longer ones at the feeling. his eyes roll back right into his skull as he twitches in your mouth and soon he’s spilling right into your throat and tongue.

“baby—” satoru’s eyes are squeezed tightly shut, “s-shit . .” and the sheer amount of cum always takes you off guard, sputtering over it when you drag your lips off of him. your boyfriend’s eyes are hooded and darkened, looking at how the strings of his semen droop from your mouth and connect right to his weeping tip.

“eugh, eat more veggies, ’toru. you’re bitter as fuck.” you say with a giggle, swallowing nonetheless as you wipe a hand across your mouth, “thanks for the meal.”

his spirit has certainly ascended, chest heaving and legs jelly from that mind-blowing orgasm. even he takes solace on the headboard, looking down at you with tired eyes.

“but i’m not done,” you truly weren’t, driving satoru to the brink after you’ve milked him to his limit, and yet he wouldn’t have it any other way as he thrusts into you, having had a new burst of energy after seeing your confidence wane once you’ve gotten his dick in you.

it was cute — your words breaking up and staggering as you sink down for the first time after two days, reduced merely to whines as you ride him. gojo lets you have your fun for a bit before he properly flips you over, pressing down on your lower back.

“fuck yourself onto me, baby,” he can tell you’ve missed him too by how you squeeze around him, a sly grin on his face when your hips push back onto him. he sees the tight hold you have on the silk sheets and the soft whimpers leaving your mouth. “good girl . . juuust like that.”

you’re jerking forward when he slaps your ass, letting it ripple from the force of both of his hand and your hips. but he takes over soon enough, grabbing both your arms and pulling you gently off that you’re hanging limply. and even while he does that, he’s still focused on the way your lips spread to accommodate him together with a ring of white at the base of his cock.

“that feel good? huh?” gojo mumbles, loving the way you arch your back and your head lols forward, just letting him do whatever he wants to you. you’re too far gone to even quell the ache in your thighs, too distracted by the wetness of your pussy.

“feel s— s’good, satoru—!” you moan out and like always satoru is indecisive in everything, now tugging you up to rest chest to back. “g’na cum!”

your legs spread more and more as your lover keeps you tightly pressed against him, an arm around your neck and the other, waist. wordlessly, he guides your face to the side, meeting your mouth in a sloppy, drooling kiss and his hips stutter at the way you mewl into his mouth.

“that right, princess?” he asks into your lips, relishing in your face contorting in pleasure. eyes reaching heaven and your mouth parted cutely even more when he props a leg up and his cockhead presses against your cervix ever so lightly.

“y—yeah . .” it’s a mix between a whine and a moan before the only rub of your clit from satoru’s hand sends you reeling and you’re trembling in his hold. you can feel your juices coat his length just as he cums as well, too obsessed with the way your cunt feels aeons better than his pathetic hand. he litters your skin with groans of his own, continue to fuck his cum back into you as you milk him dry with ropes and ropes of semen painting your womb white.

“good little girl,” he hums, and you sigh at the feeling of him cumming again, sensing him removing himself with you with an obscene pop! and you want to continue. you’re already moving your hips yet again, begging with small please’s but the happy-go-lucky song of the dryer interrupts the both of you. you scowl.

gojo laughs into your neck, and you’re left grumbling as he sets you down gently, letting you catch your breath before he presses a kiss to your sweaty cheek.

“i’ll handle it, baby,” satoru made a promise to you and he’ll keep it. he hurriedly pulls his sweatpants over his bottom half, “you just rest up.”

it’s not even two minutes later that you already miss him, trotting over to the laundry room in nothing but his shirt and you just watch as he removes the clothes with a certain tranquillity and delicateness that you’d like to see this sight more often and all you can muster in the moment is your arms around his middle.

and the sweetness of the moment is immediately ruined by gojo, “let’s fuck here. whaddya say?” 

your roommate and lover can only grin when you turn him around to smack him (“it’s!” slap “not!” slap “sanitary!” slap “here!” slap), finally happy everything’s back to normal. satoru simply presses a kiss to your temple.

#jjk x reader #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk fanfic #jujutsu kaisen gojo #jjk gojo x reader #gojo smut #gojo satoru smut #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #jjk thirsts #gojo x you #satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo smut #gojo satoru x you

[ohbo-ohno]

Kinktober Day 8 - Breeding

John Price x Reader - 1k (on ao3)

summary: You worry that your boss sees your relationship as more long-term than you do. (Reader POV, second person)

cw: implied stealthing, under negotiated breeding kink, one-sided daddy kink

You tell yourself it’s just a kink.

You’re not ready to become a mother - you’d like to be married for at least a year before even trying for a baby, and you’d like to have an established career before even getting married. For you, the idea of a bun in the oven is so far down the line it’s not even visible on the horizon yet.

But you know it’s not the same for Price. He’s older than you, has lived a far wilder life and lost it what must be nearly a dozen times over. He’s a weathered man, with deep lines on his forehead and wrinkles around his eyes, just the tiniest hint of silver creeping into his beard.

You know it’s not smart to have a fling with him. Not only is he your boss and a controversially older man, but he’s also the exact opposite of a commitment-phobe like you. He’s always looking for more commitment in fact, something you hadn’t expected considering the illicitness of your relationship with him.

You'd assumed an affair with your boss would involve mostly quickies in closets, a refusal to be in the same room as one another during the workday, maybe even pretending to dislike each other around other coworkers. Instead, he talks to you more once you start sleeping together than he had before - he parks himself on your desk at any time he pleases, invites you to have lunch in his office with him (alone), and laughs when your co-workers call him your work-husband.

So you know that he wants more, that he wants you to really be with him (he hints at far more than just that, but doesn’t dare say it aloud, which you’re glad for) past just being his secretary and his fuckbuddy. 

In fact, he’d nearly torn you into two when you’d giggled and called him a “bootycall” after he called you back into work hours after you’d gone home. His face had gone from eager and affectionate to what you can only call scolding, and he’d been rougher with you than normal. You enjoy a few smacks to your ass, but that night he’d spanked you hard enough to leave you squirming the next morning when you sat at your desk. You’d been pouty about it, had glared only half-playfully at him when he smirked, but the way he ate you out on his desk for lunch more than made up for the discomfort. 

And he makes these… comments sometimes, while he’s buried inside you. Things that allude to a future you’re not ready for.

Gotta come after me, sweetheart, it takes better like that.

Hips up, don’t let any of me drip out.

Gonna make me a daddy, pretty thing? Huh? Gonna take my cum and grow me a baby?

My good fuckin’ girl, lettin’ me breed her pretty cunt.

Gonna look so pretty, all round for me. Gonna take such good care of you.

C’mon, honey, wanna make sure it sticks this time.

You tell yourself it’s just a kink. He plugs you up with a couple fingers once he’s finished, says “Just to make sure you don’t lose any of my cum, can’t be wastin’ it right now,” and licks your clit until your legs shake. 

He hardly fucks you in any position that isn’t bent over his desk, no matter how much you whine and beg for me. He just smacks your ass, gives you an extra orgasm or two to keep you placated. More often than not he leaves you bent over the desk after he’s finished, tilts your hips up a little higher and gives you a kiss on the temple as he sits back in his seat to get back to work.

You’d told him to use a condom the first few times, even though you’ve been on birth control for years. You’ve always been responsible with flings, been more than willing to send a man packing at the first hint of whining if he didn’t want to wear protection. A baby has never once crossed your mind as an option, and it certainly doesn't now.

So it was instinct to tell Price to put on a condom before he fucked you the first time. And he had, without kicking up any fuss about it past a furrowed brow and a grumble or two.

But then the condom broke, and you were left with his cum dripping down your thighs. You’d had a moment of panic, but he’d given you money for Plan B, and you told yourself the odds of getting pregnant with Plan B and birth control were so low it wasn’t worth stressing out over.

The condom broke the second time. And the third. And the fourth. And the fifth. And every time after that you asked him to wear one.

At some point you stopped asking, and he never remembered himself. A few muttered questions about what brand he’d been using between fevered kisses, thick fingers at your cunt a distraction, and eventually you told yourself it wouldn’t matter as long as you kept taking the birth control pills.

It would be rude to demand Plan B after every round, right? Plus, asking for cash minutes after you'd both gotten off always made you feel a bit... dirty. When you feel him drip down your thighs, when you pull your panties up and feel the mixture of both of you gather there, you tell yourself that the birth control will surely do it's job, and you try not to worry.

Now, pulling open the drawer where you keep your pills, you wonder if maybe all his talk of babies and his cum taking is more than just heat-of-the-moment dirty talk.

You stare down at the empty drawer and every time he’s called himself Daddy echoes in your ear like a choir.

#this one is aggressively meh to me so sorry #reading through each kinktober before i post the day before and like. more than i expected have very little smut #bo writes #john price x reader #john price x you #price x reader #price x you #captain price x reader #captain price x you #how do people tag for him #captain john price x reader #captain john price x you #cod fanfic #call of duty fanfic #kinktober 2023 #kinktober #kinktober day 8

[grendelsmilf]

madame web was SO fucking funny i love that every single decision they make is certifiably insane but in a somehow very safe and pandering corporately-mandated way. here are some of my favorite choices:

an extended action sequence set to toxic by britney spears which stops in the middle to remind you that the year is 2003 so this song was actually just released

the villain goes to the opera, seduces an elegant woman with a single look, wakes up from a recurring nightmare wherein three teenage girls beat him up and kill him, proceeds to rant at this woman whom he’s just met about how hard it is to know how you will die someday, reveals that he is aware that she an nsa agent, and poisons her while he forces her to tell him the roughly 8 digit code that grants you access to every single security camera and government database in the entire world

one of the girls from girls is his assistant who tracks down three teenage girls for him by making composite sketches of their faces just via his own memories of his dreams. also, they are all wearing masks in his dreams, so how he was able to define all their features is extremely unclear

the fact that spidey powers originated from an indigenous tribe in peru does retroactively imply that every spider person within the spiderverse canon is performing an egregious act of cultural appropriation

adam scott plays UNCLE BEN, but because sony doesn’t have the rights to say the name “peter parker,” they are constantly finding ways to imply that he is, in fact, ben parker without outright saying it. we do see peter parker being born (i guess this spiderman was born in 2003?), but i’m not sure why we’re supposed to care since all of the girls (apparently) seem to have way cooler powers than he does

that said, we only see the girls use their powers in dreamlike sequences of the future. at no point in the present timeline do any of them use their powers whatsoever. except anya does have the power to be a #WomanInSTEM, so good for her.

dakota johnson’s cassandra webb, or “cassie,” (very normal thing to name your daughter who has spider-fueled powers of prophecy btw) cares for a stray cat who represents her own role as a “stray” as an orphan who grew up in the foster system (this is not subtle by the way, she literally says to the cat “gotta look out for fellow strays”). to illustrate that she is secretly a warm, nurturing woman despite her aloof and awkward veneer, this cat’s name is literally “cat.”

the villain of this movie never actually explains his motivation for seeking power beyond the fact that he had a difficult childhood. no details of his childhood are ever revealed. he is not given a single redeeming quality or even a reason to care about him. he is played by césar-winning and bafta-nominated actor tahar rahim in what i can only describe as the worst performance i have ever seen outside of a middle school play. he dies after being crushed by a giant letter S from a pepsi sign. you know. like a bug.

it’s never really explained why being bitten by a spider gives one prophetic visions, beyond the tenuous notion that to see the future is to “weave a web” of sorts. however, despite the fact that we establish that the villain can also see the future, despite having been bitten by the same magical species of spider, he never once is able to predict the future when it counts, such as foreseeing that he should dodge a falling giant letter S.

there’s an extended sequence dedicated to establishing that cassie’s colleague (who later dies in an ambulance crash) cannot grill for shit. as she sips from a refreshing can of pepsi-cola®️, she lambasts him for fucking up their burgers. this is the only piece of characterization they establish for him before he dies.

at the beginning of the movie, cassie receives a very earnest drawing done by a small child in thanks for saving his mother (she’s a paramedic). cassie very awkwardly refuses to accept the drawing, kind of just makes one continuous whine with the corners of her mouth until the entire family is weirded out enough to leave, and then complains that she has no idea what to do with the drawing, and will probably throw it out. we are meant to like this woman, probably.

cassie is a professional paramedic, but a hobbyist car crasher. she drives not one, but two stolen vehicles through the walls of buildings throughout the film, and it seems to be her go-to strategy in any fight.

cassie is allowed to fly internationally despite concurrently being very publicly wanted for the alleged abduction of three teenage girls. we never see her move through the airport despite the film heavily focalizing the issue of mass surveillance and preemptive criminalization in 2003 new york city, so i guess it just isn’t an issue for her. yet another win for white privilege

after cassie experiences a near-death incident on the job that triggers her latent powers of prophecy, her doctor recommends that she take the week off to get some rest and “watch old movies.” cassie clearly considers this to be sound medical advice, as in the consecutive scene, she is shown to be watching an early version of a christmas carol (in the middle of summer) and clearly feels a strong enough bond with scrooge that she feels comfortable speaking to him through the screen as if he were an old friend.

cassie has a vision of her mother researching spiders in the amazon before she died, and almost immediately yells “WHY DID YOU HATE ME!!!!”

cassie’s quest to save three teenage girls she doesn’t know ultimately results in the deaths of many more people, including multiple cops, train passengers, diner patrons, chopper pilots and people she may or may not have hit with her stolen taxi and/or stolen ambulance. but at least julia, mattie, and anya are safe!

after cassie is blinded and paralyzed(?), her entire personality does a 180 and she becomes a very creepy, ominous woman who serenely predicts the near future of her three adopted teenage girls, illuminated by a giant, weblike window. this is all done in service of setting up the sequel that sony clearly assumes is a given.

cassie attends her colleague/best friend’s sister’s baby shower (who happens to be played by emma roberts, and who also happens to be peter parker’s mother) and is for some reason corralled into playing some baby shower games, including “describe your fondest memory of your mother on a small strip of blue paper” (which cassie deliberately leaves blank, leading to a very awkward explanation of her mother having died in childbirth, but don’t worry, you’ll be fine) and “guess the name of my baby” (which is never actually revealed, because sony apparently has the rights to the name ben, but not peter).

anyone else really craving a nice refreshing can and/or glass bottle of pepsi-cola®️ rn, or is that just me?

#o #madame web #navya pls feel free to add anyth i might have missed #100

[bakubunny]

bnha: saying, “thank you, daddy,” during sex

18+ content. mdni. minors & blank blogs will be blocked.

yagi | shota | hizashi | izuku | eijiro | hitoshi | shoto | iida | denki | fumikage | katsuki

a/n: thank you so much for 200+ followers! i ended the poll just a tad early because i’ve got a busy day. i hope you all enjoy this as much as i enjoyed writing it, and i’ll see you with the next piece! 💜 bunny

tags: aged up characters, multiple orgasms, begging, verbal teasing, pleasure dom!eijirou, pregnancy mention (izuku), breeding kink mention, rough sex, daddy kink (obvs), mommy kink mention, name calling: slut, pet names, implied sexual trauma mention (shouto)

small note that none of these were written to have massive age gaps, but read them however you like. :)

yagi. do i really need to explain this one? (again?) fine, fine. he’d never really thought about it until you called him “daddy” once out of the blue in a non-sexual way; now he can’t stop fisting his cock to thoughts of hearing your sweet voice moaning “daddy” over and over while you grasp tightly to him until neither of you can think. sure, he’s very vanilla, but that doesn’t mean your sex life is lacking or that he’s not willing to try new things. the first time you whimper a soft, “thank you, daddy,” while looking him in the eyes in the middle of it, he’s surprised and blushes hard, but he loves it. he kisses you tenderly and fucks you hard but sweetly. yagi aches to take care of you in the sweetest ways in every aspect of life. he’s lived a hard life and carried the world on his shoulders for decades. let the man live and love him deeply, feed that desire. he deserves rest, and your tender, shaky, soft voice can give him that.

shota. hooo boy. buckle up, you’re in for a man you’ve never seen before. he grabs you hard by the hair or the face and makes you look at him. he has a look in his eyes that strikes fear into you and makes you melt at the same time. “that’s fucking right, babygirl, you thank daddy when he fucks you. say it again." his hands grip tighter and are rougher and stronger than you expected. i hope you’re ready for multiple rounds, being sore the next day, and possibly a red ass and a few bruises. may or may not have a breeding kink that suddenly rears its head if you try this (i’m undecided).

hizashi. it’s like he was expecting it, and not in a, “yeah, you better thank me,” kind of way. a switch flips, and you realize that he’s been waiting for you to get on his level the whole time because he’s been trying to draw this out of you for months without saying it. he might seem aloof sometimes, but you know he’s got great social and emotional intelligence. it’s almost like he knew “daddy” was on the tip of your tongue from the first time he laid eyes on you, but he’s surprisingly patient and will wait until you call him that first before making it a regular thing. you finally let, “thank you, daddy,” slip out during sex? he’s caressing your face saying, “there she is, that’s my sweet girl. say it again, love…. such a good little listener.” next thing you know he’s adding little notes like, “Daddy loves you ;)” to the lunch you left in the fridge for the next day, and you’re blushing at work, trying to hide it from your coworkers unless you eat alone.

eijiro. if you say that in general, he gets a lot rougher, but his praises and encouragement get sweeter (for the most part). i’d say eijiro either gets more desperate, much like i wrote here, or it pulls that dominant streak out of him with a vengeance, so watch out. he’s not necessarily a daddy, but say you try this on pleasure dom!eijiro? you’re in for a fucking trip if you utter the words, “thank you, daddy.” with the help of toys he’s gonna have you cumming more times than you thought possible - well into double digits - and make you thank him every single time. “c’mon, pretty girl, just one more for me, hmm?… that’s my good girl. you can do it…. i know, it feels so good, doesn’t it, sweetheart?” meanwhile, the most you can give him by the end of it is a string of moans with a nod or a head shake if you’re lucky.

izuku somehow becomes needier and more dominant while also turning into a damn puddle. he’s might just wind up thanking you while fucking you harder because he didn’t realize how much he’d love hearing that come out of your mouth. “oh fuck, angel, you’re so sweet to me. daddy loves you so much.” he will probably fuck you stupid every day for at least a week just to hear you say it again. assuming you’re well into your relationship and have discussed kids, be prepared for him to softly mumble in your ear. “daddy’s gonna make you a mommy someday. you wanna be a mommy for me, princess? you’ll look so fucking gorgeous, baby. i can’t wait,” because izuku is a family man to the core. there’s no way he’s not thinking about you barefoot, pregnant, and bent over the kitchen counter if you call him daddy in any context.

hitoshi is going to tease the shit out of you for it in bed and out. “what’s that, slut? i didn’t quite hear you…. ‘thank you, daddy?’” he chuckles and wraps a hand around your neck, his violet eyes glimmering. his voice is soft and a little condescending as he leans in. “thank you is fucking right, kitten. say it again…. louder, slut. daddy wants to hear you,” hitoshi taunts with a grin. “it’s a good thing you’re cute when you thank me.”

shoto. oh, honey. please do both of you a favor, and gently ask him first. he’s got so much trauma around his actual shithead of a father that pulling smth like this without forewarning has a chance of not only killing the mood, but sending shoto into a tailspin for weeks wondering if he’s anything like enji in bed. and i don’t need to explain why that would terrify him, do i? if he wants to try it, it would likely happen while you’re riding him or maybe giving him a top tier blowjob; let him experience how enthusiastically you want him when you let those words fall out, and he might get hooked. be prepared, though. if it goes well, he may grab your hips/head and fuck you relentlessly. if it doesn’t, there may be a lot of quiet snuggling and consoling him for several days that, unequivocally, yes, he makes you feel so loved, and you truly enjoy every intimate moment you have with him. it wouldn’t hurt to remind him of that even if he ends up loving it. however, talk to him in just the right way and treat him so very well like the sweetheart he is tho? “thank you, mommy,” (or some other title) may slip out of his mouth, let’s be honest.

tenya is very confused. i’m so sorry lmao. there’s going to be an awkward conversation mid-sex. once you explain the appeal to him, he’ll probably be on board to try it again and initiate the next time you fuck. “thank me when i fuck you, baby. let me hear it.” warning: there’s a slight chance he’ll develop a breeding kink if you keep this up.

denki is kind of blindsided but he’s not mad about it. he never thought he’d hear that from you because he’s so much leaner and goofier and softer than his friends. he’s more than okay with that, but in his mind that doesn’t equate to “daddy.” hearing those words on your lips, the look on your pretty face, and the way your tits move while he’s fucking you does him in, to be honest. he’s moaning and loses himself a little bit. he asks you to say it again maybe once or twice, making sure you orgasm before he blows because he’s going to cum the next time you say it.

fumikage. is it possible for him to somehow become even more tender and loving while absolutely destroying your cunt with a hand wrapped firmly around your throat? you’re not sure, but you’re about to find out. dark shadow wraps the two of you up inside themself, intensifying the intimacy of the moment. “again, darling…. you are so precious to me. nothing compares to your sweet voice.” daddy kink may or may not be his thing; he’s still figuring that out. what he does know is that he loved the intimacy and vulnerability of that moment with you, and he needs more of it. if he hasn’t realized it yet, he may come to the conclusion that a D/s dynamic is the way to find what he’s looking for.

katsuki is a bit of a wild card. every time, he’s either going to melt on the spot or fuck you into another realm of existence. or both. you are far from the first to have said this spontaneously (he looks like a model, he’s strong as hell, and he’s one of the top pro heroes, what do you expect?), but katsuki is pretty damn sure you’ll be the last. first time: maybe one day he’s fucking you hard. you can’t explain it, but something about whatever he’s doing or the way he looks at you makes you want to beg to cum. so you get achingly close, and you do. “please, can i cum, kats? please? i need your cock so fucking bad, please.” he’s thrown off for a split second until he sees your needy, fucked out face. you ask again, and then he’s right there with you. “yes, cum for me, baby.” a rush crashes over your body and the words slip out before you can stop them, just before you cum. “thank you, daddy.” and you cum hard. it’s not long until he’s groaning into your skin about you being “such a good fucking girl” as he fills you.

#millennialmagicalgirl #i wanted to include togata and amajiki but maybe another day #aged up characters #bnha #mha #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #boku no hero #bakugou katsuki #bnha smut #mha smut #x reader #toshinori yagi #aizawa shouta #yamada hizashi #shinsou hitoshi #midoriya izuku #todoroki shouto #tenya iida #kaminari denki #kirishima eijirou #fem!reader #bnha x reader #bnha x fem!reader #mha x reader #mha x female reader #bakugou x reader #kirishima x reader #Midoriya x reader #fumikage tokoyami

[torasplanet]

I'm begging for a f! Reader receiving a doggy style from izana smut :))

❝𝙋𝙊𝙎𝙄𝙏𝙄𝙊𝙉𝙎.ᐟ❞

I. KUROKAWA + F. READER

𝙨𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮 ; izana's favorite position is painfully obvious, very painful for your joints but he always makes it up to you after.

𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜 ; smut, doggy style, petnames (mahal, princess), fluffy in the end, aftercare implied, hair pulling ig and skincolor not mentioned

When getting into a relationship with Izana, you kind of knew what you were getting into with all of the gang violence and stuff but you’d never consider that your arms and legs would end up sore nearly every time he joined you in bed. 

It’s not like you didn’t know Izana would be rough, but that’s not what I’m talking about. I’m talking about the positions this man has you in which gives you aches and pains all in your joints from the angles and stress of holding yourself up but the position that seems to get you groaning in the bathtub after from your shoulders aching is doggy style. Which just happens to be his favorite.

Izana doesn’t like your face in the pillows, he likes to hear you so there is no time for you just to drop your arms to relax. If you do that, he’ll just tell you to get back up. It certainly doesn’t help how he’ll sometimes put his chest to your back and put a bit of his weight on you knowing how badly your arms were shaking. He just likes to laugh at how you’ll shout at him with a whine in your throat telling him to stop doing that.

His favorite part is when you beg him to let you rest your arms for just a bit. Izana believes a queen should never have to beg for anything but he likes to hear you do it only for him and sometimes he’ll let you, sometimes he won’t. Depends on what kind of mood he’s in honestly.

“‘Zana…” You groaned as your fingers dug into the sheets of the bed, you were so close to just collapsing on the bed from how badly your arms were shaking. You were so tired of holding yourself up…you liked it better when he was doing that. “Hm?” The man asked as his hands gripped your hips tightly while he thrashed into your tummy not helping the weakness of your arms one bit. 

Turning your head, you looked up at him with small whines leaving your throat “Can I lay down? My arms hurt…” Izana knew exactly what you meant by that. You didn’t want to stop, you just wanted to switch to a different position, one that would allow you to be comfortable specifically but he wasn’t gonna have that. Izana liked it when you were all sore so he could take care of you. The tanned man only leaned forward and pressed his chest against your back putting just a bit of his weight on you making you whine more.

“Izana!” He only smiled at your complaints as you continued to moan right after. “Mahal, if you really were in pain, you’d use the safeword, no?” Izana asked in your ear and you didn’t answer him verbally and only nodded. Oh, you hated it when he did that! Yeah, your arms were so sore but you liked this position as much as he did well probably not as much but you still liked it. Especially when he’d put his chin on your shoulder and his white hair would tickle the side of your neck. You just wished it didn’t ache as bad.

“Mhm.” You replied as good as you could but it wasn’t good enough for him. The Kurokawa man stopped his movements making your head snap back to look at him with needy wide eyes “Don’t stop…Izana.” You muttered to him and he raised his eyebrow while tilting his head “Thought it hurt huh?” He asked making you whimper more. Izana was a man of few words but when he actually had things to say, he never shut up and he liked it the same way with you. If you wanted something from him, you had to say it. 

Your arms caved and you fell face-first into the pillow with sobs escaping your throat and Izana only smiled. His hand went to your hair and he grabbed it harshly before pulling you up “Please…I w-want more.” Izana’s grin widened at your words and his hold on your hair released. You dropped down to the bed with your hands holding you up in doggy once more already knowing what to do “That’s what I like to hear…stay just like that and I’ll give you whatever you want princess.” Izana told you as he began to move his hips once again gaining back his rhythm.

His pelvis slapped against the fat of your ass and his eyes were trained on the recoil of it all. That’s what Izana loved so much about this position, he loved seeing how your ass jiggled whenever he would thrust inside of you, and how your back would arch with the new angles. You were at his mercy, at his hands, and were so vulnerable with him and he loved it so much, he loved it all.

“Uhn, uh!” The moans were extremely loud as your face was pressed against the headboard of the bed which hit the wall violently over and over. It matched Izana’s rhythm perfectly and your moan was just the instrumental to that. “S’good–shit.” Izana groaned slapping the inside of your thighs as you were beginning to squeeze them close a bit. Your body jerked and a loud mewl came from your mouth.

He leaned forward but didn’t put any weight on you. Wet kisses began to place themselves all around the nape of your neck and your back “So fucking good for me, mahal.” Izana said moaning right along with you. He brushed his hair back as it was beginning to stick to his sweaty forehead, god you felt so good around him. 

Your cunt tightened around him in desperation for your release while heavy breaths left your lips. Your walls fluttered around him as he hit your g-spot roughly. “Ah! Cumming!” Drool ran down your swollen bottom lip and your chin as your eyes rolled to the back of your skull. Izana’s stroke got faster and they got rougher making the sound of skin slapping against skin louder and more prominent. “Fuck, fuck, I’m almost there princess.” The lilac-eyed man groaned against your skin as you tried to hold yourself up. When he twitched inside of you, your back arched away from him.

“So pretty.” Izana moaned cumming inside of the condom while backing away from you, you groaned as you flopped against the bed. Your face smushed all over the comfy pillows while Izana was busy pulling out, he tossed the used condom into the bin “Ow…” You muttered as Izana’s palm harshly slapped against the side of your thigh. Izana watched as you allowed the lower half of your body to fall onto the mattress with a bounce.

He smiled at how you grumbled about the aches in your arms and legs “Don’t get too comfortable.” Izana said as he hooked his arms under yours to pull you up from your comfy space “Please…? Can we skip it? You made me tired.” You groaned as he forcefully picked you up placing his hand on your back and putting his arm under your knee.

“No,” Izana said simply as he made his way to the bathroom with you in his arms complaining about how bad the cramp in your knee was. “If anything this’ll help.” He said rolling his eyes while placing you in the bathtub before turning the faucet on. You hissed at the scolding hot water pouring in at your feet and glared at your lover who merely shrugged with a chuckle.

You opened your arms to invite him into the tub and he wasted no time climbing in and lying against you “Okay I didn’t mean actually lay on me, I’m still sore.” You told him as he fully nuzzled into you but he just sighed against you. “You opened your arms and your legs, deal with it.”  You smacked him in the back of his head at his joke but he only laughed at you.

©torasplanet .ᐟ reblogs and likes are very appreciated! pls do not repost!!

#torasplanet.ᐟ #marls-fics.ᐟ #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers smut #izana kurokawa smut #izana kurokawa x reader #izana kurokawa #izana smut #sorry this is short lol #◛⑅·˚'zana^^

[basicinstnct]

spoonfed / suguru geto

word count: 1,181

tags: yandere, drugged sex, non-consensual drug use, forced orgasm, bath sex, vomiting, implied kidnapping, aphrodisiacs, established relationship (LOL)

a/n: “have you ever read sharp objects?” me:

summary: After a night spent at Suguru's, you find yourself in poor health.

It’s all very funny, mostly. You’d felt anxious, but fine going to sleep last night. Then when you woke up, the first thing you did was run for the bathroom. You’d hoped sheepishly to return to bed unnoticed, but naturally when you walked back into the bedroom Suguru was awake, waiting with a glass of water for you.

You’d tried to play it off, but then you threw up again, and again. After, Suguru held you close, told you not to hide your whimpers. He said something then, almost blurted it like he couldn’t help himself.

“I guess you won’t be able to make that work trip.”

That was right, wasn’t it? You’d had a trip, one you were supposed to leave for today, but you didn’t have one anymore, it seemed. Suguru had slid out of bed for a moment, grabbing his cell, telling you there’s nothing to worry about, he’ll take care of it.

Now, you feel like a frail Victiorian child. It aches to stand, to breathe even. You’d hoped to find your clothes, to get out of Suguru’s place once you’d gained a bit of strength. You couldn’t imagine yourself willingly letting him see you like this in a million years, but now it’s happening and you’re hating every second of it. If you could only leave, you’d be able to take an extended break to recover, so you’d be at your best the next time you saw him, if he’d want to see you again. 

“You should get back into bed.” You hadn’t even noticed his arrival, which wasn’t surprising. However, instead of being amused, you feel pure dread.

“Um, thanks,” you find yourself trailing off. Has it ever been this hard to put one word in front of the other? “Actually though, I should probably go home. I’ve been here too long and… I don’t want to get you sick.”

“I’ll be fine,” Suguru sighs. He seems to glide across the room until he’s right in front of you, wrapping cold hands around your arms to fold you back into his sheets. You were shaking in the frigid air of your boyfriend’s bedroom but swallowed in fabric you suddenly start to burn. It’s not long before you’re hurling yourself over the side of the bed, desperate to preserve some measure of self control, of decency.

There’s already a trashcan there for you, and Suguru holds your hair back as you empty the contents of your stomach. It’s liquid and bits of apple. You’d been so weak he’d had to feed you himself, bits freshly chopped into small pieces. His hand on your shoulder, moving softly over and over on the same piece of skin.

“I feel sick,” you raise your head as much as you can, ashamed of your condition. It’s Suguru who grabs your chin, lifts your head so you can see his face (or so he can see yours). You find yourself surprised that he looks so… kind.

“Maybe the hospital–“

“Don’t be silly,” he says, smiling, “Like I would let anyone else take care of you. Now, into the tub.”

He carries you there, and against his chest, you can hear his heartbeat through his robe, feel it too. You think it’s racing, but it’s equally as possible that your sense of time is just distorted.

He says nothing as he strips your nightgown off you. It doesn’t even make you blush at this point, and he hums softly at your display of reliance. 

The water is hot, so much so that you panic and try to escape, but Suguru’s there to push your shoulders down. Instantly, you sink until the water is just below your breasts. Stagnant, waiting for his next move. 

He drops to his knees behind you, probably so you can’t see what he’s doing. It takes more effort than it should, but you turn your head. You’re barely able to see as he pulls out two capsules from what seems like nowhere, and inside are two yellow pills. You hold out your hand, but he gently pushes it away and holds the first one to your mouth. You don’t fight it, or the second one which comes moments later. Then, there’s another glass of water to drink. All the while, he strokes his other hand through your hair. You’re embarrassed that the gesture works to comfort you.

Suguru scrubs your flesh with a soft brush, using the soap you have at your place. You realize that he must have bought it for his. He washes your hair, your face. He treats you with care, but at the same time it feels a bit like a checklist. Once you’re done with one thing, he’s moving on to something else. Still, it’s all routine procedure, until he surprises you.

“Open your legs,” he tells you, and when it takes you too long to comply he does it himself. Then you feel his fingers cup you there. Suguru doesn’t move them; he only applies a bit of pressure you can barely manage. Precise like a surgeon’s hands.

“What are you doing!” You try to be stern but it comes out like a weak moan. You’re so overwhelmed by the illness, by shame of being like this in front of him, that the slightest bit of something pleasurable stuns you.

“Taking your temperature,” he says with no shame, and you’d never believe that’s really what he means to do. “You’re hot.”

“I bet,” you manage to mutter. When Suguru smiles, you realize your lip is trembling.

“In fact, I think I should cool you down.” 

He thumbs at your clit, kisses your neck. It takes barely that to wind you up. Quickly, you find yourself panting for him, out of breath doing nothing at all. You’re worried how reactive you’ll be if he makes you come, but Suguru isn’t scared to push you there. 

His fingers tease at you, stroking softly, but you whine as he presses harder on your clit and begins rubbing it with soft strokes. Your instinct is to writhe, to shake, but you feel too dizzy with pleasure for any of that.

“This is good, right?” you’re asked, like he doesn’t know. “It makes you feel better.” 

“Suguru,” you plead, but it falls on deaf ears.

He leads you towards your orgasm with commands, stay still even though you aren’t moving. Don’t fight, when you haven’t the strength to try. He tells you to kiss him, and you lean your head back to meet his lips. You feel his moan in your mouth, and he coaxes your tongue to touch his. The hand not working you holds your jaw so you’re stuck to him.

You come like that, with his fingers on your cunt. The feeling is hot and muffled. Suguru kisses you the entire time, whispering words in between. He tells you he’s being gentle for you, that it’s nothing you’ve haven’t taken before, probably a hundred times. He’s not wrong, but you still feel worse than ever when he finally opens you up and slips a finger inside.

#my writing #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #suguru geto smut #suguru geto x reader #suguru geto #jjk smut #jjk x reader #smut #if you saw this before no you didn’t! #yandere suguru #yandere geto #yandere

[malleusfucker]

malleus draconia relationship headcanons

this is basically a part 2 of his kinks & hcs post but i am very much a whore for this man so i NEED. TO. WRITE SOME SHIT.

warnings: smut/nsfw, malleus being a loser virgin, it gets very smutty at the nsfw part so, oral (receiving + giving), unprotected sex, two dicks, implied corruption/humiliation kink, mentions of pregnancy/breeding, choking/biting, mal being lowkey sadistic, sleepy sex, holy shit there are alot of warnings i am sorry, reader is afab but no gender or pronouns are explicitly specified

words: 2.5k

~

sfw

this is some serious sappy shit but i can’t help it 😭😭 i am literally so in love with this man damn

~ right off the bat, malleus would definitely be the best boyfriend ever and no one can convince me otherwise (or at least one of the best out of the twst cast cuz there’s some uh questionable characters in that list *idia and leona i am directly looking at you*)

~ the way your relationship builds up with malleus is agonisingly slow. he’s very cautious about who he gets close to and is definitely not one to make any bold moves—especially if he doesn’t feel like you’re reciprocating the same feelings—but oh boy. once you do, that’s when he gets a bit more excited. 

~ it won’t take long before you pick up on the little things he suddenly starts doing for you. waiting for you after class, asking to visit the library with him after college hours, hell, even just waiting outside ramshackle dorm until you notice him just so he can spend time with you alone. his signs of affection are very straightforward because that’s what he likes them to be. he doesn’t want to confuse you or think that he might be giving false signals. though he might as well be holding up a sign saying “i love you” with the way his infatuation for you is so painfully obvious.

~ malleus is so new to all this stuff, so it’s down to you to show him the ropes. kiss him, hold his hand, hug him. he needs these acts of affection practically every hour of the day as that's what all the books he’s memorised word for word have drilled into his head. he’s completely clueless. but that’s what you’re here for - to help lead the way and show him just how special a relationship can be. 

~ and once you initiate things, a stupid smile will permanently be plastered over his face. not missing any opportunity to pick you up from your classes and walk you to your dorm—his love language is just being with you—not even having to touch you but still feeling his heart racing with him just being in your company. he can never get over that someone like you can accept everything about him, loving him for all that he is - ignoring all of the labels attached, and just showing you genuinely care for him as a person.

~ gifts will be a reoccurring thing that you will have to grow accustomed to, expressing his love for you by showering you with kind sentiments such as little presents and items. whether it's gems or tiny rare crystals, it'll always find its way to you - he particularly loves giving you things you can wear, like necklaces or bracelets, crafting them just for you so that every time you wear them, you're reminded of him.

~ but one thing you’re unfortunately going to have to get used to is sebek basically praying on your downfall every single moment he gets. he’s appalled that such a lowly human—one that’s not even capable of performing magic—is hanging around with malleus, let alone being intimate with him. you’re gonna get an earful any time you head over to diasomnia - with you and malleus having to rush straight to his room to avoid prying eyes from not only sebek but also the students too.

~ on the topic of prying eyes, people will be curious - more specifically, lilia. this little shit will tease you both all day every day. asking you very personal things so then he can have his “proud father” moment. cheering and applauding at even the sight of you two simply holding hands - he is embarrassing and it’s evident when you spot the faintest blush spreading across malleus’ cheeks as you walk around campus, muttering under his breath if you can both go somewhere “quieter” (aka as far away from lilia as possible).

~ these wandering eyes definitely don’t help with the fact that this man is extremely possessive. he wants you to have your freedom and experience your time at the college to the fullest but it doesn’t mean that his eye won’t start to twitch at the sight of you being “friendly” with your classmates. having experienced the happiness of being in a serious relationship for the first time, he never wants to let that sensation fade. he’s making up for lost time. being so alone for all the long years of his life will only make him needy, clinging to the thing he loves the most with such an iron grip that he's certain it can't possibly escape from him.

~ but once you do have your alone time, malleus is milking every second of it just pampering and giving you affection. nuzzling his face against your neck, he always loves trailing small wet kisses down your collarbone, mumbling sweet nothings in your ear as you feel yourself drift off with the way he’s lovingly holding you in his arms. when he wants to be, this man is the epitome of gentle. treating you as if you were carved out of glass as he softly caresses your skin, feeling your warmth against him as much as possible just so he can then later reminisce about how soft you feel.

~ did someone say big spoon? nope. not quite. despite how giant this man is, he enjoys taking the roles of being both the big and little spoon quite seriously. with his arms wrapped around you tightly, he’ll cling and cuddle you the entire night, the sensation of his embrace never leaving your side once and waking up with him still gently holding you. 

and expect to return the favour on your part. who said that this man won’t become pouty if you don’t snuggle up and spoon him? cuz he sure as hell will. you won’t ever realise it, but when you end up doing the cuddling - malleus literally ascends to heaven. this is so unfamiliar to him so having your warmth just envelope him for the night makes him act as if he was a baby, curling up and intertwining his fingers with yours as he holds your hand close to his chest.

~ if you’re not a morning person, then luckily for you, you’ll become one. not only will you wake up with malleus having his arms around you but no matter the time - he’ll be ready to awaken you with endless kisses, gently planting one on your forehead as you slowly open your eyes. since you and malleus rarely have any quality one-on-one time outside of the morning—he will always devote them to you. he’ll constantly be on you, getting you ready and dressed for the day, preparing you breakfast whilst taking careful note of what you like and dislike so that he can always improve. 

he does it all basically.

~ fortunately or unfortunately for you, pda is something malleus isn't too big of a fan of. he deems that anything intimate or romantic should only be shared between the two of you, alone. though he definitely won't deny your advances if you lightly kiss him on the cheek outside of class - he won't exactly encourage it either. a brief peck is all it takes to send him scurrying back into his shell since even being alone with you makes him nervous. though he wishes he could shout out to the world how much he loves you, even the most powerful mage in the college have their weak points sometimes, his eyes widening and cheeks heating up at the idea of you merely hugging him.

nsfw

~ the first time you had sex with malleus - yeah, it was a straight up nightmare. his wide and extensive knowledge of everything apparently stops specifically at sex with the way he’s so clueless. it was to the point that you didn’t think it was even possible for this to be the same person. teach him and he’ll learn - that’s all that there is to it. these moments of blatant naivety fade pretty quick with malleus picking up on everything you tell him almost instantly. this man is so determined to pleasure you with everything that you’ve done for him, prioritising your needs above his 99% of the time so that he can feel like he’s finally giving back to you.

~ he manages to master everything so well in such a short span of time that it’s scary. not even being able to recall your own name by the time he’s done with you, and that time being hours. he spends so long pleasuring you, doing everything in the book so that every time you have sex together, it’s something new and not anything you’ve experience before. but merely just having sex with this man is anything but usual, it. is. overwhelming. even when he’s being gentle with you, you will still be crying with him hitting every spot so good that it makes you think that you may have genuinely gone insane.

~ malleus doesn't see it as just having sex, but rather as one of the few opportunities he has to demonstrate his love for you, and thus he loves making the experience go as long as possible. he wants you to feel it, and feel it; you definitely do. your legs will be shaking so viciously just from his tongue being in between your legs, fearing for how much your body can physically take before he finally decides to fuck you.

~ and once he does, run. RUN AS FAR AWAY AS POSSIBLE cuz this man won’t let you rest, not even once. his immense stamina soon becomes apparent after the first round, his breath still being as even as it was to begin with, the only difference being - his hunger. increasing so much each time you cum, it becomes practically impossible for him to stop fucking the daylights out of you and breaking the bed every. single. time.

~ speaking of bed breaking - you’re fortunate that malleus has the power to fix and put things back together because if he didn’t, it’d be pretty embarrassing having to ask for a new bed every week. it happens 90% of the time with the way he’s so fucking intense, thrusting and driving into you so deep you swore you saw the roof crumbling at one point. he’s so passionate in devoting all his love to you that he can’t help taking it a bit overboard, though what 5 rounds are to you feels like child's play to him. that just being a small portion of how he really feels, if he wanted to, he’d probably spend days just fucking and filling you up non-stop.

~ although being someone so polite and well-mannered, all that decorum is left right at the door. make out sessions will become heated with his fangs wandering and hunting for the best place to dig into, marking your skin so much that he’s confident he claimed you as his own. malleus just loves seeing how much his touches can affect you, the imprint of his fingers still lingering on your neck from when he was gently squeezing it with your eyes rolling back as he repeatedly pounded you with his cocks.

~ for someone as loving and gentle as he is, it feels wrong with how sadistic malleus’ intentions sometimes seem to be. he won’t hesitate to suddenly shove your face into the mattress, brutally stripping you of any remaining innocence as he quietly praises how good you are to him. malleus really brings a whole new meaning to the term “mind-fuck”, drilling into both your body and your mind that he can only make you feel like this and that no one can pleasure you to the extent that he does.

~ he’ll forever love the sight of you pathetically crawling up to him, fumbling with his belt as you desperately try to get his dicks out of his pants, only for you to choke any time you want to suck him off. when you attempt to give him a blowjob, he surprisingly prefers just watching the sight of you get yourself off whilst trying to take him into your mouth more than the actual feeling of it. best believe if you become that horny to try this, he’ll rarely spare you a glance; instead, he’ll just continue reading his book until he finally looks down and sees you hopelessly lapping up all of his cum like a starving animal.

~ malleus would never humiliate you. more so, he just likes messing you up so much that you end up doing it yourself. getting so drunk on his words and body that you can’t resist but beg for him to fuck you full of his semen, being so limp and frail you’ll have to rely on him carrying you everywhere you go - which he’ll definitely be delighted to do, the sensation of your feeble grip on him as he guides you gently to bed never fails to make him smile.

~ of course, sex and foreplay come with his inescapable thirst for wanting to breed you. whether you can have kids or not, it doesn’t matter to him - he’ll pin your legs up to your chest and fuck into you so hard, relentlessly pumping his seed into you to the extreme that you start to believe that he might actually just miraculously bless you with his offspring. here is when his collected and calm facade starts to slip; he is so genuinely terrified of losing what he has with you, and if reminding you of who your boyfriend is is what it takes to keep you from leaving, then he will be more than willing to do it constantly.

~ sleepy sex will be a thing, so get used to it. or rather, you’re the sleepy one in the situation. god forbid you have a wet dream because he’s going to POUNCE. he always thinks of these instances as your mind subconsciously pleading for him to fuck you—and while that might actually be the case—he was gonna do it regardless. carefully pulling your delicate body towards him to avoid waking you before slowly slipping himself inside you. he can’t get enough of the way you writhe beneath him so helplessly, your eyelids fluttering as you involuntarily start to moan and whimper. when i say this man won’t let you rest, I MEAN IT. even in your sleep, he won’t give you any peace. gently thrusting into you when you begin to feel yourself start to awaken, his giant form looming over you in the darkness with your mewls growing louder by the second.

~ but overall this man is a sweetheart when it comes to sex (most of the time), only behaving in such a frantic way to display how much you mean to him, which is a lot. sex is definitely a big thing for malleus because it’s really one of the only ways he thinks a couple can truly express their love to each other. despite being a complete menace one day with all the marking and bruising he gives you - he'll always turn around and love you tenderly the next.

~

the malleus brainrot is REAL and its here to stay good lord im not called malleusfucker for nothing 

#malleus smut #malleus draconia #malleus draconia smut #malleus x reader #twst smut #malleus headcanons #twisted wonderland smut #twisted wonderland headcanons #twst malleus #malleus draconia x you #malleus hcs #malleus x mc #malleus x y/n #malleus draconia headcanons #malleus draconia x reader #twst x reader #twst x y/n #twst x mc #malleus twisted wonderland #yandere malleus #malleus smut headcanons #twisted wonderland malleus draconia

[inbarfink]

So when I talk about how the Winter King is, on some level, far more removed from original-flavor Simon than Ice King ever was - Betty is the most obvious example. Ice King’s whole obsession with princesses and the kidnapping therefore and general romantic neediness has always been a Mad, Sad and Magical reflection of just how much Simon misses Betty.

Even when he was too far too gone to recognize Betty when she was standing right in front of his face

Ice King always carried the hole she left in his heart. Meanwhile, the Winter King has full access to his old memories, he just forgotten her because he doesn’t care anymore. 

Even while he was forcing Princess Bubblegum to dance along in a recreation of that same romantic grief.

But still, I feel like what happened Winterworld version of Marceline is an ever more poetic example, even if figuring out what exactly happened includes a lot of inferences and headcanons.

In “I Remember You”, during yet another emotional breakdown, Ice King accidentally shoved Marceline - and he was immediately absolutely overcome with regret and shame

Because although he didn’t consciously remember what Marceline meant to him, he still retained these feelings of fatherly care and affection. Some sort of core element of Simon’s being that persisted despite the effects of the Magic Crown. Because of that, he couldn't even stand the thought of hurting her, even slightly.

Ice King was capable of doing some fucked-up things in his desperation and madness - but hurting Marceline was the one line he never ever wanted to cross.

But the Winter King?

We only have hints of what went down between Winterworld Simon and Winterworld Marceline. All we know is: 

The Winter King and Winterworld Marceline had the same Simon and Marcy backstory as in the Mainworld, and the Winter King fully remembers it - since he conjures a vision of them during his song. 

Since Marceline’s Ax Bass still exists in its familiar form, it’s safe to say this version of Marceline did reach adulthood and probably had a pretty similar life to Mainworld Marceline.

The Winter King did something absolutely morally repugnant to the Candy Kingdom in general and Princess Bubblegum specifically. Although at the time the Winter King came to being, Marcy and Peebs were still reeling from that centuries-old breakup (assuming there are no other major divergences in the timeline) - I have no doubt that Marceline still had enough lingering feelings (and also maybe general human decency) that she would not stand for Simon’s actions.

And yet the real Marceline is 100% unaccounted for, only her Ax-Bass remains, in the Winter King’s possession. 

Or rather, in the possession of Ice Marcy, an icy duplicate of Marceline as a child living in a gilded cage in the Winter King’s palace - presumably just as lacking in Free Will as the Ice Scouts and any other creation of the Winter King.

The Winter King’s little conversation with Simon about Betty is the best hint we have to Winter King’s motivation for making Ice Marcy. Namely, he suggested making an ‘Ice Betty’ as a way for Simon to get over losing the love of his life. And he’s fully aware that this is unethical - he just doesn’t care.

I think it’s pretty reasonable to assume that Marceline and the Winter King would have some sort of confrontation about what he did to Bubblegum and since the Winter King implicitly compares it to the situation with ‘the dead one’ (Betty)… I honestly think it is not a stretch at all to assume the Winter King killed Marceline. 

And even if he didn’t straight-up kill her, I think most scenarios that fall under Occam’s Razor still involve the Winter King knowingly inflicting a great amount of emotional and potentially physical damage to Marceline. And it definitely involves the Winter King claiming Marceline’s most beloved posession as his own and giving it to a false icy duplicate of her child self he made to replace her. 

I mean, the fact that he even bothered implies that he at least misses her more than Betty. But his discussion with Simon still means he considers replacing her with a nonsapient magic ice construct that copies not the person she was when she was speaking out against him but the child who adored him to be more than a suitable solution. Which is a demonstration that whatever sort of love remained in the Winter King’s heart for Marceline was a very twisted and selfish kind of love. 

Even if you want to argue that the Winter King has nothing to do with Marceline’s disappearance - the fact that this is how he dealt with her being gone shows how much of the love Simon genuinely had for Marcy is now become a hollow and self-centered sort of thing. This is also a form of hurting her.  And again, with the way the Winter King is in general - I think it’s very likely he has a lot to do with what happened to Marceline.

Meanwhile in the Mainverse, the Ice King couldn’t even lightly shove her away in a fit of emotions without being overcome with pain and regret.

So which Ice Wizard really retains more of what made Simon Petrikov who has is? The one who kept his identity and memories but has lost all of the love and care that has once motivated him more than anything? Or the one who can’t remember his name or his old face most days but still retains this ever-persistent echo of his romantic love for Betty and his fatherly love for Marceline even if he doesn’t fully understand where it comes from? 

#adventure time #atimers #fionna and cake #fionna & cake #at #at spoilers #fac #fac spoilers #f&c #f&c spoilers #adventure time fionna and cake #adventure time spoilers #adventure time simon #fionna and cake spoilers #fionna and cake series #fionna and cake simon #fionna and cake show #simon petrikov #simon adventure time #the winter king #winter king #ice king #the ice king #simon and marcy #ice marceline #ice marcy #marceline #marceline the vampire queen #marceline abadeer #marceline and bonnibel

[holylulusworld]

Indecent Proposal (14)

Summary: Your boyfriend wants to be part of their empire. You are the pawn he’s willing to sacrifice.

Pairing: Mobster!Stucky x fem!Reader

Warnings: sexy mobsters, fluff, established Stucky, angst, implied smut, caring mobsters, pregnant reader, lactation kink?

Indecent Proposal (13)

Indecent Proposal masterlist

“Stevie, you need to help me,” Bucky pants heavily. He barely had the time to catch his breath before you were all over him again. “She has her cravings again. And she doesn’t want to eat food but dick!”

You snicker. It’s the first time Bucky refuses to have sex. He’s usually as horny as you are but today, he’s too exhausted to even lift a finger.

“Y/N,” Steve sighs deeply. “I told you to get a rest. It was an exhausting day for a pregnant lady.”

“Pregnant lady,” you snort. “Stevie, not two hours ago you called me your whore and threatened to put another baby in my womb.” You roll onto your back and spread your legs to show Steve your cunt. “Why don’t you come over here and get a taste of Bucky and me?”

“No.” Steve crosses his arms over his chest. His shirt strains against his chest and thick arms, making it harder for you to focus on anything but the greedy bitch your pussy turned into. “You will have a shower. Both. No sex. We had plans for today.”

“Plans,” you huff and roll to your side to snuggle into Bucky’s side. “Tell him that we are too tired for plans, Bucky.”

“Doll, Steve is right. We agreed on taking it slow for the next few days,” Bucky gently runs his hand over your arm. “Please listen to him.”

“Guys, it was nothing,” you groan loudly. “Having light cramps in early pregnancy is normal for a woman. It’s caused by the change in my hormones and my womb starts growing.” 

“The doctor said,” Steve tries to convince you to take things slow and not even leave the bed.

“The doctor said the same, Stevie,” you slowly sit up and wrap the blanket around your body. “They checked on me and ran all the tests. I’m fine, and the baby too. If you worry all the time you’ll miss out on so many things during this pregnancy.”

“The doctor said it’s nothing serious. But you must tell us if anything doesn’t feel normal, or if you are in pain. We should be careful, Y/N.”

You pat Bucky’s head. “I cross my heart and swear it. The baby is important to me too, and I’ll do anything to keep it safe.”

“We know that doll,” Steve softly says. “We are worried, is all. You are important to us, and the baby too. The last thing we want to happen is that you get hurt or lose the baby.”

You gave in and allowed Steve to tug you in. It wasn’t necessary to spend the day in bed, but you didn’t mind cuddling with Bucky while his husband tried to read another book about pregnancy.

For a few hours, you forget about how your relationship with them started and that they killed Scott.

You still weren’t sure if it was a good idea to become pregnant so soon. It wasn’t in your plans to give birth to the child of two mafia bosses, nor did you imagine ending up between them, stuffed with their glorious cocks.

You giggle and press your legs together at the memory of the naughty position you, Steve, and Bucky tried not two hours ago.

“We should start buying things for the baby,” Bucky suddenly says. “Right, Y/N, Stevie? We are officially pregnant. I want to go on a shopping spree with our beautiful baby momma.”

“He’s going to spoil the baby before the little bean is even born,” Steve says, making you chuckle. Steve acts as if he didn’t buy every book about pregnancy, and the female needs during pregnancy. “We need to keep an eye on him.”

“He’s excited, is all,” you lean closer to Steve to whisper in his ear. “Let him be giddy and all. I prefer Bucky over an absent father any time of the day. We only need to keep him away from the toys.”

“Good plan,” Steve wraps his arm around your shoulders and pecks your cheek. “He’s busy buying stuff on his phone again, I just know it.”

“What?” Bucky looks up from his phone. He was busy searching for a pre-natal course. “Did you say something? Do you need Bucky to take care of you?” He smirks at his husband. “Aw, come here baby. I’ll eat you alive if you let me put my hands on you.”

��Buck, keep it in your pants,” the blonde tuts. “We agreed on having a sleepover and watching movies with Y/N. No sex.”

“Fine,” Bucky harrumphs and turns his attention back toward his phone. “Just you know if you wake with my mouth around your dick it’s your fault. I haven’t seen it for a long time.”

Steve shakes his head and sighs. “It’s been two hours, Bucky baby. You’re insatiable since Y/N is pregnant.”

“Hey, that’s not my fault. Your husband has been a horny dog since I met him,” you point out and glare at Steve. “Do not blame my womb for his horniness.”

“I’m not a horny dog,” Bucky dips his head to look at you sitting in the middle of the bed. “I only try to stay healthy by burning calories.”

“You’re a bad liar, Mr. Barnes,” you point out. “But don’t worry, we like you. A lot.” You pat his thigh. “Now, what did you buy?”

“I didn’t do a thing,” Bucky grumbles under his breath. “I was looking for a pre-natal course, and recipes for pregnant women.”

Steve and you stare at Bucky. “What?” He shrugs. “I can do more than make you two orgasm, doll. I’m a responsible and thoughtful partner and try to find out what you’ll need during your pregnancy.”

“You okay over there?” Steve furrows his brows.

“And maybe…I tried to find out how to get her pregnant again,” Bucky snickers when you throw him an angry look. “Do not give me that look, young lady. You agreed to have my babies. All of them. I’ll keep you barefoot and pregnant for the rest of your life.”

“Horny bastard,” you conclude and decide to get some sleep before Bucky gets his hands on you again. “I’ll get some sleep. Tomorrow, we should have a look at a baby store and buy a few things.”

“Crap!” Bucky jumps off the bed and starts pacing the room. “Steve! We’ll need a nursery and playroom. We need to hire the right people to renovate two rooms for us.”

“A playroom,” you snap your eyes open and stare at Bucky. “Uh-huh. That sounds dirty!”

“For the kid, you horny milf!” Bucky tuts, but his eyes drift toward your chest. He already imagines you all swollen. “I’m gonna suckle on those tits when they are filled with milk.”

Steve inhales sharply while you, well you lick your lips. Bucky is as kinky as you are. He’s all too eager to help you explore every kink. “Buck, if anyone tastes her milk it’s me!”

Part 15

Tags in reblog.

#steve rogers #bucky barnes #mafia au #stucky x reader #stucky x female reader #female reader #stucky x you #stucky x y/n #Indecent Proposal (14)

[yaekiss]

#Mailroom Open!- Hello, I would like to request a love letter for Alhaitham. NSFW and Yandere response please, and any pet names work but if you could use Habib that would be great 💖 (I hope I did this right)

_______________________

"To my favorite feeble scholar,

I hope this letter is finding you well! I have arrived safely in Fontaine and haven't known a moment of peace since I have arrived. The chaotic cocktail of getting settled into a new city, preparing for this research project, and missing home makes me yearn for the simpler times spent in Sumeru.

Especially my time spent with you.

Thats enough of my lamenting, how fare things with you back home? Have you finally shaken the title of acting Grand Sage yet? Is Kaveh being too much of a "menace"? (Also, please let him know his mother says hello and sends her best wishes to you both). Regardless, I hope you are taking care yourself. Archons know I can't ensure you are eating well while I'm nations away. I will just have to trust that you are treating yourself with the same kindness I would extend to you.

On the topic of kindness, I have a gift for you attached to this letter. I know while I am here doing my research for the next six months we won't be able to have our usual meetings at Lambad's to discuss books over good food, but I hope these books will entertain you well during my absence.

I'm eagerly counting down the days until I can see you again. I find myself thinking of you often and it is a truly vexing experience to see you on whim like I would do so before. It makes the days seem to drag on even longer, but I pray time will fly by regardless of this.

-Sincerely, your wayward scholar

[In a simply decorated box, there are three books: one is on the topic on Fontaine's hydro transportation system and infrastructure, the second is about the complexities surrounding Fontaine's judicial system, and lastly is an infamous and popular erotica anthology from Fontaine (think the Karma sutra but French)]

꩜ Letter Content: Dom! GN! Reader x Yan! Sub! Alhaitham, Alhaitham calls you "habib", lightly implied abuse of power, unhealthy possessive and obsessive relationship from Alhaitham, mentions of sex toys, lmk if I missed out anything ! ꩜ Delivery Notes: He tipped me extra and requested me to be extra careful with the delivery so I'll hand it over to you directly instead of leaving it at your door as per usual procedure! ꩜ Wanna write a love letter yourself? Check out it out here!

There’s a knock at your door when you’re relaxing in your room, opening it shows a hotel staff member who passes you a delivery. And it doesn’t take a genius to know it’s from your beloved feeble scholar.

Alhaitham sends you a simple package, nothing too gaudy or showy, just a few accents of turquoise to denote who the sender is. It’s secure and durable, perfect for weathering long and bumpy trips. 

When you open up the package, you find a few gifts he carefully arranged so that nothing would be broken if the contents were jostled around a little too hard. Gingerly, you lift out a lacquered box which reveals a set of headphones and a music player that’s almost identical to the one he owns. It rests in its cushioned groove in the box with the colours of the device matching your favourites instead of the shades of green on his set.

There’s a small note attached to the music player, “In case you ever miss me too much, you’ll have my voice as background noise for your moping, habib.” On the back of it, he’s written something akin to a track list. Flicking through the different audio files for a quick sample, you realise there’s one for every mood. Tracks with words of encouragement (...or as encouraging as someone like Alhaitham can get), ones scolding you for overworking. There’s even a really cute one where he softly hums a love song that both of you adore, his voice low and soothing. However, the best track of all might be the one where you get to hear his grunts and moans, as if he were right next to your ear in person. The sounds are so sinful and wet, you could just picture him grinding on his dildo, trying to reach his peak. And the way he pitifully breaths out a “I c-can’t cum witho- AH! -without you!” has you yearning for him yet again.

Taking the headphones off before you get too carried away, you retrieve his letter in the package. The envelope is the one from his Grand Sage office, not that he ever really uses them for work purposes. Inside it, his reply is written on parchment, the kind that’s provided for him due to his high position once again. His handwriting is as tidy as ever, the font and formatting standardised throughout the letter. His reply reads:

“Reply for: My springtime sublimity,

I was wondering when you were going to write back to me. After all, there’s no way you would’ve forgotten me in the midst of your research or from meeting someone new, right? Regardless, you have not left my mind since your departure and I’m sure it’s the same for you too habib. 

Do let me know if the gifts are to your liking. I’ve managed to recreate my headphones and they will definitely be useful in blocking out anyone else who might be getting on your nerves or when you’re trying to focus on your research. I included my latest read in the package as well. I'd like for us to discuss our thoughts on the book, even if it’ll have to be done over pen and paper. I’m eager to hear your thoughts on it.

There’s also no reason for me to answer whether I’ve managed to resign from my title as Grand Sage, as evident from the envelope and parchment used. I simply have an unfortunate one last thing to wrap up before I can do so.

Moving on, habib, you know Kaveh is always a menace. I relayed his mother’s well wishes to him earlier and he just smiled. Now he’s locked himself in his room. I never have any idea what’s in that mind of his. It’ll be a miracle if I don’t have to drag him out before he starves. Although I must ask, since when were you privy to Kaveh’s background? I don’t recall him bringing it up around us. Habib, just how close are you to him? How close has he gotten to you? Do write back to me and explain.

Now, this is where I must thank you for your gifts. They all have proven to be succinct and informative. However, I must comment on the choice of one of the books. My, I knew you were lewd before, but to send me an erotica anthology habib? Though, I never said I minded it. I am simply inspired, that's all. Perhaps, you should come back sooner and we can try some of the positions referenced in it. In the meantime, habib, I can only pleasure myself with toys, although, they’re nothing in comparison to you. I’m addicted to you, the caress of your hands on my skin, how only you can make me shudder and cry out your name. You have me wrapped around your finger.

I crave you desperately, habib. There are so many words I could use to describe you with my extensive vocabulary, but the most fitting one would be blossoming. You’ve managed to sow all these emotions in me and now that they’re blooming, you’ll take responsibility right? I’ve always been logical but the degree of affection I feel for you is irregular, all-encompassing and ever-growing. Almost as if you’re twisting the very essence of my mind, rotting and changing me from the inside out. It matches in a way, spring being the season of rebirth.

This letter has gotten too long, I will end it off here habib. I trust you will stay safe and return in one piece unharmed. I await your reply.

May your days be peaceful,

- Alhaitham -”

Setting his letter back in the package, you pick up the book he entrusted to you. Flipping through the pages, it’s littered with markings and annotations from the scribe, he even wrote some questions for you to ponder over. “What do you think about this point?” “Why would the author write this in?” But there are a few unrelated… unsettling annotations that you probably shouldn’t dwell on for too long such as, “Do you know just how much I miss you?” or “How were you able to corrupt my reason and rationality to this extent?” These annotations were left in here for a reason, Alhaitham is a smart man, a renowned member of the Haravatat. There’s a message behind his carefully selected words, waiting for you to unearth it before it festers and decays into something even worse.

Lastly, written neatly on the inside of the back cover, is a puzzling riddle, each word written in a different ancient script. After deciphering the question, an unpleasant awareness worms its way into your mind.

It reads, “Would you still extend your same kindness to me after realising what I would do for you?”

Thanks for reading! Consider supporting me on kofi if you enjoyed this or check out my other works hehe ♡

#📜.qi celebrates #📜.Mailroom Open! #📜.qi writings #📜.qi musings #📜.qi chats #chats with 🎩 anon! #yandere #genshin x reader #yandere genshin #genshin smut #sub genshin #alhaitham x reader #alhaitham smut #yandere alhaitham #sub alhaitham #yandere x reader #yandere smut #sub yandere #dom reader #thank you for your love letter anon!! #I hope you enjoy your feeble scholar's response dear <33

[beneathstarryskies]

Hi hiii hii

Can I uhh please request maybe a smutty fic of Nanami and Gojo fighting over the new hire at Jujutsu Tech? 👉👈🫣 Thanks bby you rule my world

warnings: threesome, alcohol, fem!reader, gojo is a little shit, nanami is a lil pussywhipped, implied bimbo!reader • wordcount: 2,083

There was just something about you that drove them crazy. You were so sweet and caring to everyone you crossed paths with. You’d even expressed sympathy and caring for curses before. At first, Nanami thought you were just a silly little thing who wasn’t cut out for this life of exorcizing dangerous curses. When he was assigned on missions with you, he took more time to protect you and watch your back as though you were still a student. However, time and time again you proved your mettle to him. He was impressed with you and couldn’t help feeling like you were a breath of fresh air. More and more he began to look forward to being paired with you on missions. He also began coming up with excuses to spend time with you afterward. He’d take you to whatever cute little coffee shop you wanted to visit and even wander bookstores happily by your side. 

Much to Nanami’s annoyance, however, he wasn’t the only sorcerer who had their eye on you. Gojo took to you like flies to sugar. How could he not? You laughed at all of his silly antics and even joined in at times. You were the only person on campus who still awed over him and his skills. He doted on you with gifts and sweets. Whenever he came back from a work trip, he always brought you back some expensive trinkets. 

Gojo knew Nanami’s feelings for you, of course. At first, he found himself competing. If Nanami spent the day with you looking at books and having lunch, Gojo was trying to take you on a shopping spree the next day. If Nanami got hurt protecting you, the next time you were paired with Gojo he was keeping you in the protective embrace of his infinity. 

Soon, though, he switched tactics. It was a surprise to you and Nanami both. He’d join you on missions even if the curse didn’t require skills like his or three people period. He treated you both to lunch, keeping you seated right in between them. It dawned on Nanami that Gojo was planning something, but he couldn’t pinpoint what exactly it was. You, with all of your sweetness and naivety, were just so happy to spend time with them both that it didn’t matter to you. 

It’s Gojo who proposed the three of you go out to dinner one night. He chooses a fancy restaurant. Even though he doesn’t drink, he knows both you and Kento do occasionally. Every time you finish a drink, Gojo orders you another. Soon, all of your inhibitions are lowered. When Gojo begins rubbing your thigh under the table, you don’t push him away. At the same time, you reach over to take Nanami’s hand. 

“I’m so happy we’re doing this,” you say with flushed cheeks and a big smile. “I’m having the greatest time!” 

“You look like you’re having a good time,” Kento smiles softly. He rubs your flushed cheek, feeling the heat coming from it. “Sweetheart, you look a bit…” 

“She’s not drunk, Nanamin. Just a bit tipsy, right doll?” Gojo smiles at you, his hand moves higher up your skirt. 

“Right,” you blush even deeper and kiss Nanami’s palm as a gesture of appreciation for his lasting concern over you. He caresses your cheek again and smiles kindly at you for a moment. 

“Perhaps it’s time to pay the bill and head home,” Gojo smirks. 

“But I want to keep spending time with you both,” you whine. 

“I think that can be arranged,” Gojo kisses your cheek. “What do you think, Nanami?” 

“I-I’m not so sure,” Nanami blushes. 

“Please, Nanami!” you grab his arm and pout. “We can all hang out. Please, please.” 

“Please, please,” Gojo repeats, half mocking. 

“Fine, fine,” Nanami sighs. 

You let out a loud cheer, only to giggle when you notice a few people looking at you. You hide your face against the curve of Nanami’s neck, and he can’t help wrapping his arm around you. The three of you laugh softly as you blush against Nanami’s neck. Gojo pulls away to flag down the waitress and pay the bill. 

Soon, the three of you are in your apartment. You stumble through the door, each of them holding one of your hands. You turn around with a sweet, but mischievous grin. 

Nanami is the first one you kiss. His heart nearly jumps into his throat when he feels your plump, warm mouth against his. He can’t fight the urge to sink into your welcoming embrace. His hands grip your sides, fingertips digging into the flesh through your dress. 

Gojo watches on enviously but still pleased that you seem to have fallen in line with his plan without even realizing it. When you finally pull away, he’s quick to grab you. 

Nanami is hesitant to let you go, but he watches as you cling to Gojo and give him a sweet kiss too. Gojo pushes further than Nanami. His hands move down to squeeze your ass and his tongue rubs against yours sensually. 

“You’re such a good girl,” he whispers when you pull away to breathe. 

“I don’t know if ‘good’ is how I’d describe this display,” Nanami scoffs, but soon you’re in his arms again. You press kisses on his jawline. 

“Don’t be mad, Nanami,” you whine. “We’re havin’ fun.” 

Gojo smirks and approaches the two of you. At first you think he’s going to kiss you, but instead his lips crash against Nanami’s. You let out a surprised gasp but you feel a wave of heat in your lower tummy as you watch them make out while you rest your head on Nanami’s shoulder. 

“See, Nanami,” Gojo teases him. “We’re having so much fun.”

Gojo takes each of your hands and leads you towards the bedroom with some guidance from you on which way it is. Once you’re in the bedroom, you let Gojo unzip your dress while you pull the knot of Nanami’s tie loose and then begin working on the buttons of his shirt. 

“Sweetheart, you don’t have to do this,” Nanami says reluctantly. Part of him hopes more than anything you’ll agree, but he wants you to be comfortable. He doesn’t want you to feel pressured to give so much of yourself. 

“I know, Kento,” you whispers and kiss him. “I want to. I really do.” 

Gojo pushes your dress off your shoulders and watches it fall into a pool of fabric on the floor. At the same time, you take off Nanami’s shirt and begin pressing soft kisses on his chest. 

“Isn’t she beautiful, Nanami?” Gojo says as he kisses your shoulders. 

“Y-yes,” Nanami stutters, his hand tangling in your hair as you begin moving lower until you’re kneeling in front of him. His heart is racing in his chest as your delicate hands grab his belt buckle. 

“Can I, Nanami?” you ask so sweetly. 

Nanami can only nod as his mouth goes dry from this sight of you on your knees. How many times has he stroked his own cock to this very sight? Now that he sees you this way, he realizes how much his fantasies paled in comparison to the reality. You’re careful as you unbuckle his pants and slowly pull them down along with his boxers. He blushes when you see how hard he already is. 

Gojo steps back to start taking off his clothes while watching the scene unfold before him. He watches your hand wrap around Nanami’s cock and begin stroking it.

 Your soft tongue laps at Nanami’s tip, licking up the thick beads of precum dribbling out of his slit. He runs his hands through your hair, but doesn’t push or pull. Instead he just breathes shallowly, almost frozen to the spot as if scared to wake up from this dream. 

Gojo wraps his hand around the base of his cock and jerks off as he watches your head start to move. It’s a slow steady rhythm that has Nanami’s chest shaking with the effort to contain himself. 

“Does it feel good, Nanami?” Gojo asks. 

“So fucking good,” Nanami says. 

Gojo kneels behind you, working on taking off your bra while you suck Nanami’s cock. His large, strong hands begin kneading at your tits and tugging on your nipples. You moan with pure delight, and your eyes roll back. This is already better than anything you’ve dreamed of, and it’s barely started. Gojo shoves a hand down the front of your panties and grunts at the warm wetness he finds there. 

“So fucking wet, baby. Fuck,” he murmurs against your neck as he begins rubbing your clit in tight circles. You squirm a bit in an effort for more friction, and as though sensing your need he applies more pressure. “Good girl…so responsive.” 

“Fuck, you gotta slow down,” Nanami groans and begins pushing your head away. “I almost…Fuck…” 

“It’s okay, Nanami,” you say as you look up into his eyes. “I want you to feel good. I really do!” 

“I don’t want this to end too soon,” Kento admits as he runs his thumb along your bottom lip. 

Gojo stands up, guiding you along with him to your feet. You’re a little wobbly, but he wraps his arms around you to hold you steady. Kento leans in to kiss you deeply until Gojo moves to bend you over the edge of the bed. Gojo lines his cock up to your hole and pushes into you slowly. Soft moans fall from his lips as your tight walls pull him in deeper. You let out the smallest whine when he bottoms out. 

“You’re taking it so good,” he mutters as he starts a slow but deep pace. You can feel him brushing up against your cervix. His hands are firm on your hips, pulling you back to meet every thrust. He keeps up his pace until he feels himself tinkering on the edge of that bliss, and then he pulls out. You feel empty and you whine softly. 

“Your turn, Kento,” Gojo winks at him and kisses him quickly as he steps aside. 

Nanami is gentle. He drags his fingertips along your folds, eliciting a moan from you as you shiver with anticipation. Nanami isn’t as long as Gojo, but he is so thick. Even when he just pushes the head into your entrance, you can feel a stretch. He takes a sharp breath through his teeth and plunges forward. His hips smack against your ass when he bottoms out, and then he goes still to try to catch his breath. 

“You feel amazing,” he gasps. 

Your walls flutter when he picks up his pace. Soon, Nanami is grunting while pumping in and out of your tight heat with wreckless abandon. All thoughts have left his mind. He’s a slave to the intense pleasure coursing through him. 

Gojo pushes his hand between your legs to rub your swollen clit. The other hand grabs a handful of your hair to pull your head back to look up at him. He kisses you deeply, his tongue plunging into your warm mouth to taste himself and Nanami on your breath. 

You reach up to hold onto one of his shoulders, bracing yourself as you feel your climax rapidly approaching. Nanami can feel it too in the way your walls quiver around him and somehow you get even wetter. 

“That’s it baby,” Gojo whispers against your mouth. “Let me see how pretty you are cumming on Kento’s cock.” 

His words draw out a whine and coupled with his fingers rolling your clit, you’re done for. Your tummy tightens as you cry out in agonizing bliss. Your legs are shaking as Kento fucks you through every wave of pleasure before pulling out and stroking himself to completion on your ass. He is dazed when Gojo pushes him out of the way and jerks off on the other asscheek, covering you in their cum. 

In your exhaustion, you just fall face first into the mattress. It’s Gojo who gently rolls you over and presses a kiss to your temple. Kento stands at the edge of the bed looking a little dumbfounded by what’s just happened. When you look up at him, all you have to do is hold your hand out and whine before he’s crawling onto the bed beside you. 

You fall asleep when Gojo is in the middle of cleaning you up, but when you awaken the next morning you’re snuggled between them. 

#🌟written in the stars #nanami x reader #kento nanami x reader #nanami kento x reader #gojo x reader #satoru gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader x nanami #nanami x reader x gojo #satoru gojo x kento nanami x reader #i worked on this for three days i can't believe how long it ended up being

[salaciousdoll]

Walk Away- Mikey Sano

━━ ༉⁩༊ Pairings : Manjirou Sano x Fem!reader, Rindou Haitani x Fem!reader

━━ ༉⁩༊ Encapsulation : Manjirou was tired of you and did the only thing he could think of, but was it worth the pain in the end?

━━ ༉⁩༊ Warnings : Angst, heavy angst, no comfort( for Mikey), cheating implied, vi0lence, small t0rture descriptions( not on reader), oc names Yasire’, chubby reader, black reader, overall just angst and hurt, everyone in Bonten doesn’t like you except Rindou and maybe Ran, Rindou is a sweetheart in this, Rindou has feelings for you, Divorce talk/ settlement

━━ ༉⁩༊ Word Count : 3.6K

( This is an old ass draft and I wanted to post it to clear out my drafts so enjoy the heartbreak 😉)

You loved Manjiro Sano so much that you put aside anything and came to his aid, but would he do the same? Yes and No.

You were laying down on the bed waiting for your husband. You honestly were getting worried because it’s 4 am and he never is out no later than 2 am. He did call you and say that he was heading to the club with his men and that you should get some sleep, but you couldn’t help but to worry about him.

You were watching the 4am news when suddenly you saw something you wished you didn’t see, “ Breaking news, there was a violent shooting around 2 am this morning, leaving multiple deaths and 2 wounded heavily, sources says this is the effect of the gang violence between Bonten crime organization and CG crime organizat-”, The news reporter says with visuals of one of the nightclubs Bonten owns. It was a terrifying sight to see and you had to call Manjiro.

Meanwhile in the Bonten headquarters, Mikey was getting his wounds fixed while Kakucho was beside him doing the same thing. This was the worst hit they’ve gotten and they just knew someone was a traitor, and Ran was the first to point it out, it’s usually Sanzu. Bonten was secured and locked with the safety of their own club, so why would their enemy suddenly attack them when they didn’t even make it known they were showing up to the club they least visit.

Mikey was on the phone with Yasire’, his ex- wife. She was the one he truly cared and loved this entire time. Kakucho and the others even liked her more than you because she actually helped him, meanwhile to them it felt like you were a show off type of woman. They knew he needed someone like Yasire’ and not you.

“ Are you okay, Manjiro? Do you want me to come over there?”, Yasire’ says into the phone, already getting her keys.

Mikey almost smiled at that and was about to answer when suddenly your name popped up and he just let it ring as the doctor was patching up his stomach. He felt sick of you and he needed you to get out of his mind and life because you were draining him and he didn’t even have a reason for why you were draining him.

“ Mikey?”, Yasire’ asks, wondering why he suddenly showed the expression of irritation. He smiled again once he saw her face and voice on the other side of the FaceTime call, “ Huh, baby? Right, what were we talking about?”

Sanzu happily answered for him, “ Invite her over, I want some of her snacks out of her bag, the other one doesn’t carry good snacks like Yasire’ does.”, Sanzu says, earning a heavy sigh from Rindou.

Rindou was the only one who thought that you didn’t deserve this. He honestly thought you were great for Mikey. Mikey always smiles and laughs with you, but then again he does that with Yasire’ too. Only with you his smile and laugh was fake, anyone could see that but you, it seems. Rindou also thought you had a funny and beautiful personality matching your pretty ass face and body doesn’t matter what size you are either, they all needed a you in their lives, Mikey just didn’t cherish what he has.

Mikey chuckled, actually chuckled before speaking, “ Come over, we missed you.”

Yasire’ smiled before saying okay and hanging up the phone. She knew about you and still didn’t care because why would she, after all you took Mikey from her and now she took him back.

Mikey smiled at the phone and couldn’t wait for Yasire’ to come. Oh, how much he loves her. God, he wished he would choose differently.

You, on the other hand, was on your way to Bonten headquarters after getting a text from Rindou saying that they’re all okay and that Mikey’s fine and was here at the HQ. You originally texted all of them and the others ignored you or blocked you, meanwhile he didn’t.

You honestly didn’t know why Mikey didn’t answer his phone. You suddenly remembered that he doesn’t kiss you goodbye or say that he wants to take you out or make love to you like he always did for these past few months.

Maybe he was cheating? No. No. No. he’s hurt right now and you’re thinking about that, what was your problem? Is this why he hasn’t been really speaking to you, have you become insecure about this relationship with him.

You scratched the thoughts out your head and continued driving to their headquarters.

Yasire’ was already there and was now hugging everyone, “ Oh, I missed you all, how did you all get caught like this in the first place, you look like hell.”

Ran smiled while pouring himself a drink, “ That's because we were fighting for our lives cherry head, why red anyways?”

Yasire’ was about to answer when she got pulled on Mikey’s lap making him grunt in the process because of his wounds, “ Mikey! Anyways, because I wanted to try a new approach, you like it, slick back?”

Everyone laughed at her corny joke while Ran held up his glass, “ That's up for your husband to decide, isn’t that right Mikey?”

Mikey huffed before nodding, “ Mhmm, you look so damn good, I wish I could see you everyday and everynight, instead I’m stuck with her.” The way Mikey said her was supposed to offend you , but the others felt the venom from that word and felt like he was talking to them.

Mochi chuckled, “ Damn, Mikey, you really don’t like y/n, huh?”

Mikey chuckled a little before rubbing a hand over his face, “ You have no idea, she adds on to my stress and doesn't even know it. She constantly worries and nags about me like shut the hell up and just fuck me. Shit! She can’t even do that right.”

The men and the woman laughed at his response. Yasire’ spoke up, “ Why don’t you just drop the bitch, if she can’t even satisfy you why are you even with her?”

Mikey kissed Yasire’ on her lips a few times before answering, “ Why can’t I be with you? I never stopped loving you and hated that she was a temptation I couldn’t resist, now I’m trapped with the most boring and weakest person ever. Believe me, I gave the bitch a hint but she doesn’t even see it.”

Everyone laughed until suddenly they stopped when Rindou got up and paused from where he was standing looking at someone with full remorse for something he didn’t even do. Everyone looked from where he was looking and gasped when they saw you with the most tired expression they saw on your face.

You didn’t even want to cry in front of all of them because you knew they were faking with you since the night of that party. He never even holds you like that so you just silently stared at every last one of them.

Yasire’ and Mikey were too busy gripping and kissing each other to not realize everyone got quiet. They didn’t notice until Takeomi spoke up, “ Why are you here?”

You cleared your throat and walked in further with your hairstyle and clothes slightly wet from the rain outside, “ I wanted to see if you all were alright, looks like you all are, nice to see you Yasire’. I’ll be getting my clothes out of your room Mikey.”

“ Oh, don’t bother, I threw them out, I paid for them didn’t I? So you could kindly walk back out of here. Don’t make this harder than it has to be y/n.”, Mikey says with his usual threatening and dark voice.

You stepped back before taking one last look around the living room and at everyone before holding eye contact with the sympathetic eyes of Rindou. You smiled at him letting him know you forgive him and it was not his fault.

“ Okay.”, You say before turning back and heading out the door and past security. Meanwhile, the men and the woman were cheering loudly as you heard Mikey’s last words, “ Don’t let that woman anywhere near this place again, understand? If she comes back, kill her.”

You felt it, you felt the salty tears coming out your eyes as you got in and started the car. You tried to get your tears out of your eyes before you started driving, so you sat there. Just like that, Yasire’ won after all these years. She never liked you since you met Mikey and supposedly stole him from her when in reality, they were broken up. You were neutral but her—she hated you.

You seen the glimpse of admiration in Mikey’s eyes when he looked at her in contrast to his dull black eyes when he looked at you. You thought you were helping him since he was back to eating like the old Mikey and his eyebags weren’t as heavy as they were. Turns out you weren’t the one helping at all, it was Yasire’ all along.

You pulled out the driveway when suddenly Rindou came out and everyone else came out after him and started waving at you in mockery. Meanwhile, he wanted to comfort you. He was closer to you than he was to Yasire’, he was going to call you later for sure.

You hurried and pulled off with anger, sadness, and resentment filled in your heart and tears streaming down your face. You tried to wipe them as you moved down the road. You stopped at a red light and collected your tears before an expensive car rode past since it was turning at the other light, firing bullets aimed at your car. They’ve been watching you since you came out of Bonten’s HQ. They didn’t know who it was in the car because of the tinted windows, all they wanted was revenge.

Three bullets hit you, one in your arm. Another in your side and another one in your shoulder. You thought this car was bulletproof since Mikey said it was, turned out he lied about that but why? Did he want you dead that bad? Damn!

The car pulled off and someone who was walking nearby called an ambulance for you. You felt like this was your last day on earth. What a shitty way to leave this world huh? When you meet with the afterlife, you gotta ask them why they chose this death for you.

You started thinking about your family and friends.

“ Y/n would you help me with this”, your mother says while cooking in the kitchen for your birthday. You almost smacked your lips because you honestly hated cooking with her, she’s too strict in the kitchen.

“ Get that paprika out of the cabinet and put it on this meat, when you put it on the meat, sprinkle just a good amount, not too much, not too little now.”, You mother says as you did what she told her.

Your little niece and nephew came running in the kitchen laughing and playing when your mother held up the spatula cursing them out, “ Let me tell y’all something, stop running in my goddamn kitchen, y’all better be lucky I didn’t put on the cake yet. Now, would you two please go sit down somewhere.”

You laughed at them playing and hitting each other while leaving the kitchen before your mother spoke up again, “ I tell you, those two act just like you and your brother and sister did. All three of y’all irritated the hell out of me, but I love you all to death. Always remember that.”

You heard a deep voice call your name, but you just wanted to keep walking to the end of the path where the light was until you suddenly got dragged back. In reality, you were now being carried to the ambulance truck with Rindou by your side with tears in his eyes while his brother called everyone else in the background.

You felt a hand reach for your hand as they strapped you to the stretcher and multiple sayings of “hang on” and “ I’m gonna be right behind you”. You knew the voice and wanted to smile but couldn’t because you needed to breathe.

Rindou felt like he couldn’t even think because you just got hurt by the enemy and Mikey or anyone else aren’t really believing it. The only reason he knew it was because his brother had everyone on speaker.

When he heard Yasire’ giggle, he lost it, “ Ran! Hang up the phone, there’s no use in talking to stupid bitches, now let’s go before I really put a hit out on Yasire’, I’m feeling murderous right now and she’s gonna be my main target and right now I don’t give a fuck how mi-”

“ Ok!”, Ran yells before hanging up the phone quickly. He smirked at Rindou, “ I knew you liked y/n, I knew it.”

Rindou ignored him and got in their car while Ran got in the passenger seat. He pulled off thinking about you and only you. Did he like you? Only time will tell now.

When Rindou found out you were in a coma, he went on a binge of drinking and partying. He couldn’t handle it, he wanted to tell you everything he’s been meaning to say to you the day you came back after the vacation that you and Mikey had. He could see the sadness upon your posture, but it didn’t match your facial expression which showed happiness and gleefulness.

Another thing he hated is when the guys talked about you in an I’ll manner in front of Yasire’ and other women they were around. He especially hated it when they did it in front of him too. He always leaves the room when Mikey speaks about you. He used to hide his words but later on, Mikey words became more bitter making him have to bite his lip in order to not get killed, so he just leaves the room.

He visits you everyday and was the only one to visit until now when he saw Mikey with flowers and the rest of the men he mainly be around behind him when he entered with his own flowers and stories to tell. He never told Mikey and the others anything about what hospital you were at, only his brother, which means his brother spilled the beans. He had to because of the look he’s giving Rindou now.

Yasire’ was nowhere to be seen because just a few days ago, they learned that she was the one who put the hit out on Bonten. She was working beside her husband from Bonten’s rival gang. She used Mikey and Bonten, but had to pay the price in the most nastiest way.

Her face was torn off and fingers were gone, Rindou was the one torturing her this time while her husband now has flies flying over his body from Sanzu torturing him while laughing at his pleas. Mikey was stunned that he turned away and left the room. He was double crossed and this is his first time too.

“ Y/n, look I brought these flowers for you. I was hoping you’d be awake, but you’re in a coma…Tell me Rindou, why are you bringing my wife flowers and hiding where she stays?”, Mikey asks prior to turning around to face an irritated Rindou at the entrance.

Mikey continued not even letting him get a word out, “ She’s mine. Don’t you dare think about getting with her or near her. How dare you try to hide her in a unknown hospital when we own the fucking hospital Rin, how stupid could you b-”

Rindou couldn’t respond because he was watching your fingers move and finally your strangled voice called out to someone he never thought you would say.

“ Rin.”, You say before Mikey eyes widened at his wife speaking, only calling out the wrong name. Everyone else sighed in relief when they heard your annoying little voice again. They may not have liked you but that didn’t mean they didn’t have some “respect” for you.

Rindou hurried and grabbed your hand as you turned your head to him with low and tired eyes, “ Rin? That’s you? Thank you for watching over me and talking to me. You were the main reason I held on for this long. By the way, how long has it been?”

Rindou smiled before sucking up his tears, not wanting to cry in front of his comrades and his boss, especially over his wife who he didn’t get a chance to divorce yet, “ It’s been two months, n/n.”

Everyone paused because he never called you a nickname before so why now. Did he have a death wish?

You tried to smile but ended up coughing, which made him hurry to bring the cup of water to your mouth, but you laughed because they were little coughs, “ God Rindou! I’m okay, I just need to breathe, slow down and sit down, I’ll talk to you soon.”

Rindou nodded before sitting down and moving his leg up and down anxiously. He knew he could either be turned down or shot for you. He didn’t want any of that.

You slowly moved your head to Mikey, “ You. Why are you here? You cause me this pain, look at me Mikey! Look!”

Mikey couldn’t look at you because he turned the chair to the wall and sat down, staring at it with silent tears. He couldn’t face you, not after putting you through hell and back.

“ And you all! Why the hell are y’all here, hmm? Did you come here to laugh or take pictures, which one?”, you ask, trying to keep your sentences short so you don’t have to do a lot of talking.

Sanzu being the smart ass he is spoke up, “ I mean we could have but then I don’t want anyone like y-”

Mikey stood up at the same time as Rindou and they both scared Sanzu because of the look they were giving him. Mikey pointed a finger to the door, “ Out. All of you!”

Most of them sighed before touching your covered feet or tilting their heads on the way out, meanwhile Rindou stayed where he was making his brother, who was the last one to stop to try to grab him. He suddenly snatched away from Ran and declared he’s staying no matter what. Ran sighed before stepping out and closing the door— standing right beside it just in case anything goes down between his brother and his boss, Mikey.

Mikey gave Rindou a stare that had malicious intent and you could feel it, so you spoke up, “ What could you possibly say that he can’t hear?”

“ Y/n, let’s not do this and just come home with me.”, Mikey says, taking your hand.

Rindou laughed before speaking up, “ How dare you? How dare you act like you care about her just because the other girl slipped up and fucked you over. Now you want to come back to her.”

Mikey snapped his head to Rindou, “ I’m speaking to my wife! Are you going against me!” Rindou did nothing but laughed until you spoke up, “ He's Not going against you, Mikey. Rindou, baby, can you step out for a minute? I’ll yell if he tries to strangle me while I’m at my weakest.” It was a joke but Rindou took it seriously while Mikey's facial expression dropped in disbelief and sadness. Did you always think he’ll do that to you? And why are you calling Rindou baby?

Rindou smiled when he saw you nod your head before stepping out with a smile on his face at the word baby until he was slapped in the back of his head by Ran, who was shaking his head at his little brother.

Inside the room, You and Mikey stared at each other in utter silence.

He was about to speak when you suddenly spoke before him, “ I want a divorce!”

He was stunned as he gulped down his fear that was laced as spit, “ Y-”

You shook your head, “ No, don’t argue, just agree and get out. It’s for my mental health and I refuse to be with someone who treated me like shit because let me ask if she would’ve never betrayed Bonten, would you still be with her?”

Mikey tried to walk to you but you held up your hand, so he spoke instead, “ Y/n, plea-”

“ Manjiro shut the fuck up and answer the fucking question!”, You yelled in anger and exhaustion.

Mikey gulped before looking away and nodding his head confirming not only his answer but his divorce too. He was letting you go because he knew he was bringing you pain when you said your final words to him.

“ Great! That’s all I needed. The divorce papers will be sent to your office. Goodbye Mikey, it was a glorious ride, now see yourself out please and send Rindou in.”, You say not caring about his hurt expression.

Mikey slowly trudged to the door and opened it but not before stopping to say one last thing while Rindou was standing at the door opening, “ Have a good life y/n, you were the one who made me happy all this time. I was blinded before and now I’ve gotten my happiness taken from me again.”

He then looked at Rindou with hatred and admiration in his eyes, “ Take care of y/n for me, Rindou.” On his way out he thought heavily about you and Rindou. He wanted to know what was so special about Rindou, he found out while sitting on the bench outside the hospital with tears in his dead eyes : it was the love and care he gave you that he couldn’t give you. He will always hate himself for giving you and Rindou the chance to love each other, but it’s for your own good.

━━ ༉⁩༊ Tagging: @dejwrites @eiflawriting @simpingfor-wakasa @happygoluckyalexis @mastermindenoshimaalicia @bontens-angel @bontensbabygirl @celi-xxmoon @ushijimasslut @Nalyana @cryingchild83 @mikeys-gf @anyahlator

#tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers x black!reader #tokyo revengers angst #mikey angst #mikey sano x reader #rindou x reader #rindou haitani #rindou haitani fluff #fluff #angst #black!reader #fem reader #chubby reader #anime men x reader #anime men #anime x black!reader #x black reader #tokyo revengers

[honestsycrets]

before anyone else I: the venerable [admiral!miguel o'hara x princess!reader]

❛ pairing | admiral!miguel o'hara x princess!reader

❛ type | one-shot, sfw (minor past suggestive themes)

❛ summary | once upon a time, miguel loved a princess. upon learning about her engagement to his father, King Stone, he's back with a plan in hand.

❛ tags | forced marriage, arranged marriage, historical period not defined, royal!au, admiral!miguel, princess!reader, mention of character death, elements of implied treason and betrayal, some angst, some fluff, annoyed miguel, lyla makes trouble, self edited, f!reader, persuasion inspired, a kiss, innocent!reader, Spanish is not translated, a kiss.

❛ sy's notes | no requests were fulfilled; filled to meet this poll.

An imperial boat docks. It waves in the water a little off-kilter, pulling to the right in all its glorious majesty. On the dock itself, the head of ground forces stood dressed in full regalia, all navy blue and white, the gold buttons glistening in the fresh morning light. Jess expected this day would one day come. The seamen shouted among one another on the ship until at last the crew outstretched a thick oak plank. Boots bounded down the strong wooden ramp leading from an imperial ship to the dock. The awaiting crowd was rough and rowdy, casting bellowing screams at the admiral and his crew. 

“There he is!” Jess boomed, clapping her umber hands together.

They were freckled, with the frequency of her exposure to the sun. Today, her skin was shielded by a heavy coat. She abandoned the thing over her chair as she wrote letters, recommendations, and battle orders. But she preferred it when her poet shirt was thrown open, teaching the men and women in her charge. 

Admiral Miguel O’Hara led the charge, passing by the lackeys throwing down trade goods from the belly of the boat. Compared to Jess, his clothing was rough, punctuated by his time at the sea. What use was there for a thick coat with the spray of sea spray daily? No, he stood in dark brown breeches and a thrown open poet-shirt, sodden with sea water, likely from dealing with whatever injury brought his ship back to this usually forgotten port. 

He was glad to be back on the Spanish shore, if only it weren’t this shore and the many stairs he would have to brave to get to the castle while the engineers worked on the Venerable. Miguel loosened the sweat from his coarse locks, his shoulders bunched and ready for another fight. He came to a stop in front of Jess, exhaling deep, rage-filled breaths. Jess shifted back on her boot heel, a grimace on her countenance.

“That’s a pretty good hole. She’s taking on water quick. You hit something, Miguel?” 

“Me? No, I don’t hit rocks.” Miguel snorted, casting a look over his shoulder to the woman that stood at his side. Lyla’s eyes averted, not quite saying anything and saying everything at the same time. Lyla obscured herself behind her thick honey-brown bob. “Someone was distracted with the king’s cask of Carribean rum.” 

“Lyla?” Jess came up behind her, grasping her shoulders for emphasis. “No. Our Lyla couldn’t’ve done that number.” 

“It was once! One in eight years.” 

“Those... those changes you wrote me about. They have you on edge, paranoid. Let’s have a drink with the imperial guard. They have missed you.” 

Miguel threw a hiss back at the two as he stormed up the stairs, bundling buttons of his dirty poet shirt to obscure the sight of his dark chest from onlookers, namely the sex-deprived women and men of the capital whose hungry eyes ogled his crew. He didn’t need a loon bothering him right now, not here, he might punch them into a permanent, instantaneous sleep. 

“Oh, come, Miguel, these things happen. Look how sorry she is.” She says as if he cares. Jess rushed to catch up with him, the beads on the ends of her braids snatching and clicking. He closed his eyes, breathing deeply, his head heavy.  He doesn’t have time for this.

“What she meant to do is as much irrelevant as it was irresponsible. If you’ll excuse me, Jess, I now have to prepare a new ship to set sail.” 

“The king wants to see you. It’s about her,” she shouted. Miguel’s steps came to all but a grinding halt, his finger fingers flexing into a tight fist. His mouth was dry, and it wasn’t due to a lack of hydration but the mention of your name on Jess’s lips. She brought her hands to her hips, her hands on the golden embroidered loops. His face sagged, all irritation melding into something different, inscrutable. He threw her a look.

“Fine.” 

But first-- he had to get this sea stank off of his skin. 

“Admiral O’Hara! There is just the man I have been looking for. Come, come, let me pour you tea. No? No tea? Of course not, it seems I don’t remember the boy I used to know. You’re a man now. And one of decisive action! Coffee, yes? You are better suited to black coffee. Am I correct?” 

Everyone thinks he is thirsty in this blasted place.

He didn’t belong here. He was, as he preferred to be, stuck at sea. The unforgiving sea required his attention lest his men befall a terrible end. He could handle that burden. He stood below a great sigil of a sea dragon whirling to chew its tail. Its hands secured a great many orbs in its sharp, jeweled talons. His eye tracked across the inside of the crest, turning over the word hopelessly on his tongue. 

“Rum,” he answered caustically, his eye dropping from the great sigil before him to the jeweled sapphire and emeralds that were embedded in the floor. Between rows of sentinel were porcelain statues, their hands wrapped around blunt and aged swords, their fingers almost palpable on the artifacts that remained from times of old. The deep navy blue curtains and tapestries are detailed in ineffectual teal. He never cared for the other assortment of pots and jars that were so-called mythical artifacts and rolls of paper that would soon house the king’s poorly-made royal decrees. 

“Aha! A good seaman and his alcohol,” the king minced his laughter. The noise aggravated him, the memory of the man’s words buzzing in the back of his head. Now he kissed up to him. How he’d fallen. He blinked up to the royal crest, then down to the aged king. His long, grey hair at the middle of his back reflected his many losses. Miguel turned his eyes back down to the king, eyes crinkling at the corners, taking a glimpse of him. His tone slipped. “It makes the time pass more tolerably, does it not?” 

“It does.” 

He pops open a glass bottle of rum, pouring it into a cup encrusted with more fine jewels. Miguel doesn’t drink.

"I suppose you want me to get to the point.” 

That would be a nice change, yes. His eyes held modest deference, his heavy dark brown boots pacing toward a hearth in the middle of the king’s study. Wisps of vibrant blue fire threw embers into the air. He finds himself staring at a stained glass effigy of your mother. A woman who undoubtedly would have been ashamed of the husband that stood before him now.

“You recall my daughter,” How could he not? He released a small grunt, an acknowledgment of the king’s words. Mindful of his reaction, Miguel turned his hands over the hot air, plumes of warmth kissing his sun-worn cheeks. As the king spoke, the flickering flames warmed the slight ring on his thick fingers. “I’ve arranged her marriage to Lord Stone. An alliance of sorts.” 

Miguel’s eyes go wide, aghast, staring into the blank flames. He grits his teeth together, the thin blade of his patience whittling down with every word from the king. He kills his face of the horrified, fleeting emotions that dappled his skin like obvious spots. He might have snapped a look at the king before his eyes calmed, trained to maintain the illusion of composure. 

“How unfortunate.”

“King Stone?” around the corner, his second-in-command squeaked. He should have left her outside. Miguel brought his hand to cup his slight forehead, throwing her a warning look.  “That old coot is still--”

“Lyla.” 

“Yes, he is quite old, isn’t he? I was surprised when he asked for her hand in marriage, truly,” the king said tightly, born in annoyance. He has gone ashy, eyes desolate as he recounts the death of the prince, or perhaps his own. “I would have preferred an engagement to his son. I trust you heard about his assassination. It was a great surprise. A tragedy, indeed.” 

“We have heard many things about it. I am surprised that you would agree to such an alliance after what he's done.” 

It was impossible not to hear rumors in the ports he sailed through. Miguel did not only hold to royal ports but those that held slimy crowds of pirates and prostitutes. If he did not, he would never have the truth behind the many rumors that swirled through the air. Women in richer towns had time to spread rumors. Those suffering from poverty had no time for them. Their lives were ones of perpetual struggle. What use had they for the death of stupid princes?

“Feelings change.” 

Did they really-- 

“Miguel. Truly, I understand your apprehension. But unless you have the magic to raise my dead sons from the grave, I have no choice.” The king sighed, beating his old knuckles on the game board. He’d sacrifice another child for his own safety-- the illusion of it. Coward. “I must know if I can I trust you with her transport.” 

“She won’t last.” Miguel stared at him, breathing the words out, his frown darkening the rest of his features. “She is a balm to any battle-worn king, but Stone is not just old. He is dangerous. If you send her there, you will send her to her death.” 

“His wives are well cared for,” your father argued mildly because it was not him who would face the rest of a lifetime with Stone. He brought a fist to his mouth and bit down upon it, a vestige of the man he used to be. “Perhaps your feelings for her cloud your judgement.” 

“I can separate my feelings from my professional judgements, mi rey.” 

“Yes. I suppose you can, admiral. How long has it been since you bore the responsibility of being the Head of Guards? Seven years?” 

“Eight,” Miguel cropped, his hand shifting to the top of his pommel. “It has been eight years since I left the crown city.” 

“Head of ground forces regulates my guard now. I find them lacking,” he grabbed Miguel’s cup of undrunk rum and threw it back, his tongue snapping against the roof of his tongue. He felt for the sentinel of guards in the room. “My soldiers, that is. If they had been stronger, perhaps my sons would still be alive.” 

Be it like him to find fault in everyone but his own battle choices.

“But I am ever humbled by your selfless service, mi hijo,” he spoke mildly, “Please know it isn’t a decision I make lightly. I know my daughter. She would feel more secure if you were the one to take her to Stone.” 

They were nice words from a soon-to-be puppet king. Miguel turned his gaze onward, locating Lyla by his side. Her small, scarred hands warmed themselves over the ancient blue flame. A surge of heat turned over in his stomach, punctured by a fear he hadn’t felt in a while. He steadied his voice. 

“I would not be so certain.” Miguel wrinkled his forehead, throwing a look that looked almost off-kilter. After this many years, would it be easy to face you again? No, he decided. Not for this purpose. “Soft women are fickle to easy words.” 

What of me? 

Not you, Lyla. You’re not soft.

“If you do not want to, I can send her by way of Jess,” a long sigh slipped off the king’s lips. Then quiet, only broken by a clatter and Lyla’s frantic attempt to replace game pieces into their proper position. Miguel swayed to where she was, grabbing the head of a miniature oak knight and popping it into the proper position. 

“For her sake, I will deliver her.” 

Miguel said nothing more. He failed to wait for the king to dismiss him, perhaps out of confidence in their relationship, that this was not something he had to tread lightly around. Lyla rushed by his side, the wordless guards drawing the heavy doors open to the wide stone hallway before them.

“You cannot take her there,” Lyla spoke with a rigidity that Miguel admired, mindful of the volume of her words, only a whisper. “Your father is--” 

“Yes, Lyla, I know very well.” 

“Then what next?” 

At the end of the hall, Miguel rushed down the steps, out of the king’s chambers, and into lush, almost stabilizing grass. Free of the constricting walls that he would have once called home, Miguel took in the fresh air, his hands behind his neck. To take you there meant certain death. To not take you there, well, he regarded both just as poorly. The fat roses bobbed on their pointy stems. Miguel expects to see you there, with your chambermaids, eating fruits on an Arab blanket. 

“We take Jess up on her offer. She’ll be expecting me.” 

“Miguel, the intent in horseback riding is that your ride the horse.” 

“You know, on top,” Lyla jumps onto Jess’s sentence. “He hasn’t been on top of anything in years--”

“And break its back?” Miguel held the reins in his thick fist. The horse, a chunky mocha and white painted thing was a profit from his voyages overseas. Not only was it subjected to awful sea travel, but now to have a man of muscle on its back? With his newfound speed, it was a risk he did not need to take. “No. I have two feet. I can walk.”

Miguel was many things, but he wasn’t a monster. Or so he liked to think.

“I think you’re quite sweet, Admiral O'Hara.” Jess’s own guard, Gwen, spoke. She was a willowy thing, barely a sprout of a woman with a good heart. He could tell. Miguel looked down, opting for silence as he crunched down full blades of grass under his foot. 

“Miguel doesn’t like compliments,” Lyla said. 

He also didn’t like long, relaxing walks in the valley. Jess proposed something like drinking in her office. It would have been glorious-- but Lyla, whose recent binge nearly scuttled his ship, chose a good ol’fashioned horseback ride. Something that didn’t remind her of sitting on the patchwork doll that was the Venerable.

“The princess would marry someone she does not know?”

Dread filled Miguel’s stomach at the words, the truth in them half-cocked and wrong. He found no words on his tongue that could fit the weight of bitterness that he felt about the arranged marriage. Everyone knew, everyone but Gwen. She was a young thing.

“It’s not her choice,” Lyla spoke in your defense. “It’s her father’s.”

“Forced marriages are a thing of the past. They are not right. Has the princess ever even met Lord Stone?” Gwen asked.

In less than a week’s time, following the festival of roses, they would sail eastward. Or, so said the sailing plans he laid out for Jess. Who, for her part, looked away. Lyla and he exchanged a glance of mutual understanding. That was what he liked to call a sign. 

“No, before their deaths, her brothers never would have allowed her travel to Alche. This whole alliance is a sham. We’re expected to deliver the princess in some false faith that he keeps this so-called alliance. He will not. I cannot decide if the king truly believes in this alliance or if he is hopeful he will remain as a ruler. In either case, it is foolish. Stone would murder his own legitimate heir and for what?” 

Except they aren’t his words. Those words flowed freely from Jess’s lips. 

“The king will fall.” 

“Miguel. Those are treasonous—“

“Treasonous? He is incapable of governing.” 

“The council helps him,” Jess says, but the words come out slanted. She convinces herself as much of the truth as him. Gwen’s lips close, looking down to the sword at her side, then back to Jess’s troubled eyes. Miguel had her where he wanted her. Where she wanted to be-- abandoning this foolish faith in a man who long since gave up hope on a strong, independent nation. 

“A counsel of plants. Five of his sons have fallen. If this keeps up, we will fall next.” 

Jess felt the words running bone-deep. 

“You have a plan.” 

He always did.

The deep night sky was a sea of twinkling stars. Oil lamps illuminated the solitary garden. Miguel fit his hands in balls on his hips, eyes flickering from the blades of grass to the long stems of lilies. He breathed softly, drawing in breaths that should have been relaxing, but morphed into something awful, some unfiltered fear of the failure of his plans. 

“These are her gardens, aren’t they?”

“They are,” Miguel answered. “If nothing has changed, she cares for them herself and harvests them with the peasants. She’ll be here, tomorrow, for her last harvest as a princess.” 

On one hand, overturning the king and his council could go seamlessly. He had Jess, that much was for certain. Gwen, who seemed to go with her bidding, held a good heart about the ethics of arranged marriage. She turned her nose up at it, the suggestion that you would be forced into a marriage with an old, cruel king. Lyla, his Lyla, held no apprehension to the plan. She treated him with deference, seeking only his happiness as his best friend.

Would this-- being king-- make him happy? 

Miguel looked down. Soft pink roses, ripe and ready for the rose-picking festival. Your last, if things went to your father’s plan. He hadn’t thought about it: about how you might feel in the push for another engagement. Not one to an aged, cruel man-- but… he never thought to find you, to ask. He wasn’t sure he could stomach the rejection and yet still force you into a marriage with him. 

It wasn’t that he wanted to-- but had to.

Miguel turned his hand into the suit vest across his chest, removing a bit of aged parchment with a broken wax seal. He turned his finger over the old ink. In every interaction I face, I long to spot you, hidden among the roses, the lilies, to be one of the heads of delighted harvesters. But you are not here. You are never here. I fear you never may be.

“Miggy,” Lyla said. “Miggy look.” 

Miguel lifted his head to look at Lyla. She wasn’t looking at him, peering across the garden, somewhere Miguel couldn’t see from where he stood. He lifted his dark brown boots, stomping around the corner. His sharp red eyes were wide in shock, bags of exhaustion lifted by your sight. Had it-- really been eight years? 

Panic works in tandem with longing. He could run for Jess’s chambers, crumple there like the very coward that ran this fastly crumbling kingdom. Face you another day. He couldn’t help but indulge himself in the gentle lilt of your voice, the way you rolled the ‘r’ on his last name, even though it was very much not an ‘r’ to be rolled. 

“Is that you, Miguel O’Hara? ¿De verdad?” 

No, Miguel thought. Not yet. 

His mind was overwrought, more stimulation than he had in months of battling the sea. He could climb ropes, fix sails, fight pirates, throw out orders, and care for the ports. No issue. None. But as you stood there, looking finer than any treasure he ripped from the hands of the most experienced of pirates, he found himself unable to locate his practiced words. 

You were meant to be his. To be by his side. Of that much, he was certain. Miguel folded the letter in his hand and tucked it back into his dark coat, exploring your gown. A light, white off-the-shoulder dress, embroidered in teal and ombre details, with the most beautiful seafoam bowed sash. You pulled at the rebozo over your long dripping sleeves, the jewels of your hairpieces tinking together as you moved, pulling up your skirts saucily over your ankle. 

“Is it not the admiral?” your handmaiden whispered. 

“I did not know he was back,” said the other. 

“Please excuse us, girls. Lady Lyla, I would prefer a private audience with the admiral. If you would,” 

“Of course! Of course, come, hurry up, you're slow--” Lyla did not need to be told twice. She made herself scarce, grabbing the mid-backs of the girls, forcing them up the steps and out of sight. Miguel dipped down to take a lantern that one of the girls had forgotten.

“Hola, mi amor,” 

Miguel turned around, offering you his forearm. Your jeweled eyes fell on it. You took his broad arm with one hand, minding the train of your dress in the other. The pads of your fingers shifted along the muscle. It took a moment for him to register your curious touch. The increase in his muscle mass, particularly as of late, must have been jarring. His brows knit together, his eyes crinkling around the edges in a way that reflected his age by sea. You moved through your gardens. Miguel, your ever-patient servant, followed your lead.

At night time, your garden was impossibly beautiful. It was lined by bushels of healthy, salt-tolerant roses, cloaked in the secret of darkness. Miguel remembered the small pond as if it were yesterday, the secret place of his youth. Small bugs sang in the heaviness of your mutual silence, breaking with the pop of your lips.

“I saw you had a letter in your hands. From a woman, perhaps?” 

He lifted his hand, offering the lack of a marriage band. No wife, not even a love on a distant shore. The memory of your kisses, your bodies strewn in bed, overrode any ability for him to find another woman. What happened to your eyes-- you began, reaching to touch him. He turned his face away. You were the first to notice. Or, perhaps, just unbothered by tethers of propriety.

“You are still unmarried? Then why did you never answer my letters?” 

“What would you have me say, princesa?” Miguel’s words came at last. He hadn’t meant them to come out the way they did. A long, painful lament on his tongue, marked with barbs. “You chose your family over my proposal. Your rejection was quite clear.” 

“You, above everyone else, should know it was not an easy choice. I could not have told them the truth.” You sat down on your stone bench, fixing your skirts. “You would have hung.” 

“Yes... well. How funny is it that they are now dead,” he bit out. “While I stand here alive.” 

Your eyes were bright, watery, bits of tears slipping down from the corners of your eyes, over pink blush at your cheeks. Shit, he hadn't meant to say that. A slow breath leaked from his mouth. You stood up, brushing the tears away with the flowing sleeves. It hurt to see your pain well to the surface.

“Miggy, I know you hate them, but please don’t talk ill of the dead. They did what they thought was best for our nation and nothing more.” 

Right-- to secure the possibility of an alliance through an arranged marriage, how charitable of them. You stood before a bushel of roses, turning your eyes over the fat blooms as an excuse not to look at him. You poisoned your mind with the lies of your father and brothers. He turned you, lip trembling.

“What of what was best for you?” His hand found your cheek, rolling away the tears that spilled openly before those in the garden. The sentinel who watched, the flowers that grew in peace. You leaned into his touch, eyes closing at the comforting warmth that welled up in your chest. He was here, again. “That has always been the only thing that I am concerned with.” 

“I know. My brothers couldn’t understand. They only understood politics.” 

“What of your father? He knows how I feel.” Miguel said. The words were smooth and soft, gentle like the sill waters of your pond. “He may not know that I was your first--” 

“Miggy,” 

“Your virginity belongs to me. Stone cannot take it,” he punctuates the words. They seem to draw some ancient feelings loose, drawing back with your hand to your chest, cooling the heat that bubbled in your chest at the mere memory. His voice milded out, a smile warring at the corners of his lips. Eight years, and he knew you thought of that very warm summer’s night on the pavilion.  "But your father would still allow you to live in misery."

You're not thinking of your father when Miguel speaks of such silly, youthful things. It's hurled into the past.

“You remember.” The tone in his voice pulled at a question, but he asked none. You tugged on your rebozo and turned away from Miguel once more, embarrassed. He couldn’t resist. His hands cupped your slight shoulders, rippled with goosebumps, though it was not a cold night out. His lips worked on your ears, kissing the delicate earrings that dripped from your earlobes. “The last day of the rose harvest.” 

“Miggy, not here.” 

“Your guards fell ill for their night shift. I took their place. You bathed in petals and perfumed your skin that night. I dare say, on purpose. You were so good for me.” 

The memory must have made you clench, your blood runs warm, leaning into the soft kiss he set behind your ear, the scrape of his fang. Oh, stars, you cried.

“We should stop, my father--”

“Knows what love we have. Even if he is a spineless coward.”  

“Have? Miggy?” 

He held his chin level, swaying where he stood, seeking some acknowledgment that your feelings had not changed. For what seemed like the hundredth time that night, you faced him. In place of a response, silence was the best course of action. A grim smile worked on his face, his head pounding with the lack of alcohol, that little friend of his that had made these years pass so easily. You tugged him forward.

“You are mine?” you ask. 

“I am yours. I am loyal to you before anyone else.” 

To his surprise, you held out your hand, your fingers twiddling at him. 

“Then prove your loyalty to me.” You hummed. “Give me that letter. I want it.” 

“You can’t trust me, can you?” He sighed, slipping his hand into his coat pocket. Finally pulling it free, he unraveled it. Its crispy, flaked edges slipped from your fingertips. The royal seal glimmered in your eyes, wrought in sudden delight at your own handwriting. 

“This is mine. And you’ve kept it so close to your heart this whole time? Oh, Miggy,” 

“Don’t start,” Miguel took a step away, rubbing the frustration out of his forehead. Blood rushed to Miggy’s dark face. He should be so lucky that it was night, that the moon was not full, and that you would not weaponize it. You plucked up your skirts, daring a twirl, jewelry jingling, skirts whirling. His lips pulled in a smile at your delight, a party all on your own. Congratulations on your victory, he wanted to say, as if it hadn't resulted in years of endless longing.

“I knew it.” 

“You did not,” Miguel bit out, kicking out his feet over the inky blades of glass. “You interrogated me regarding its source. Another woman when I have a princess? How asinine.” 

“Oh, Miggy. If you write me a letter, just one,” you settled it back in his coat jacket. “I can be at peace with this marriage. I’ll close my eyes and think of you.” 

His mind reeled at your words. He shot you a wan look, which you returned with a confused flicker of your long lashes, wondering what you said that was so wrong. Miguel looked toward the armed guards, men who-- in the day, he served with. He trusts them in a way that is unique to service under the crown-- to you. 

“What sort of man do you take me for?” he bit out, his tone tapering dangerously low. “To think I would allow you to marry that man?”

“What choice do I--” 

“You listen to your father regarding the oddest things. You would marry an archaic sack of shit but not the love of your life.” 

“Oh,” breath punched from your chest, exhaled in a shaky breath. Your hand came to your chest, twiddling the jewelry at your chest. Miguel turned his head back to face yours, his scarlet eyes trained on yours. “I wasn’t aware of your offer.” 

He couldn’t help it. Not anymore. The time at sea, eight years of suppressed pleasure through memories of your warmth, and the letters you sent all culminated in overcoming longing. He dipped down, his lips sliding against yours. He swept his tongue past your lips, drawing you closer with a stabilizing hand behind your back. He was many things, but never a coward, savoring the tender taste of fig and honey and you on your lips. You were as sweet as he remembered. His lips parted, words barely a puff.

“I don't believe I ever retracted it, Princesa.” 

Yes, you say delightfully. He wonders if you'll still say yes after you learn of what he's done. He doesn't always like the decisions he has to make-- but they're for your good. One day, perhaps, you'll understand.

#miguel ohara oneshot #miguel o'hara x you #miguel x reader #miguel o'hara oneshot #miguel ohara x reader #miguel x you #miguel x y/n #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara/reader #atsv imagines #atsv au #atsv imagine #atsv x reader #atsv miguel imagine #atsv x you #atsv angst #miguel o'hara angst #royalty au

[belovedspector]

Written in the Stars

Pairing: Steven Grant x gn!reader (implied Marc Spector x gn!reader and Jake Lockley x gn!reader)

Word Count: 800

Summary: Steven doesn’t have a birthday. He takes the task of choosing one very seriously.

Content: Fluff, one use of a pet name (love)

A/N: This follows Leap Year, but it’s not necessary to read that first. I don’t know a ton about astrology, so I’m learning as I go. Enjoy! :)

Masterlist

“Here it is!” you say triumphantly, pulling a purple book off one of Steven’s lower shelves.

Steven takes the book in his hands gingerly, as if it’s something sacred. “Why do you have this, anyway?”

You shrug. “My college roommate was really into astrology and tried to get me interested, too. I just never got rid of it. It’s sentimental, I guess.”

Steven nods, already flipping through the pages as he makes his way to the couch. “So, what signs are Marc and Jake, again?” he asks, not looking up.

You join him on the couch. “Both Pisces, oddly enough,” you remark.

He hums. “Maybe I should be, too.” He quickly consults the table of contents before flipping to the page on Pisces. “‘Empathetic, imaginative, creative,’” he reads. He skims a few more pages before saying, “It’s all a bit vague, innit?”

You laugh. “I guess it is, yeah.”

“Well, you can turn on the telly or grab your own book, if you like. This will take me a bit to get through.”

You stare at him. “You’re not gonna read the whole thing, are you?”

He looks back at you, confused. “How else will I know what sign I am?”

“I don’t think it’s that serious,” you say. “Jake just picked a date he liked.”

Steven just shrugs. “I’d like to see what the book says, I think.”

“Alright,” you say with a shrug of your own. “Knock yourself out.” You scooch towards the other end of the couch, where your latest read is waiting on the end table. You turn on the lamp and settle in.

Steven’s a fast reader. In the time it takes you to slog through a few chapters, he’s closing the astrology book with a satisfying thump. “All done,” he announces.

You close your own book after marking your place with a bookmark (a slightly crumpled receipt counts as a bookmark, right?). “And? What’d you pick?”

“Virgo,” he says.

“Yeah?” you ask, interested. “Why’s that?”

Steven finds the appropriate page and reads, “‘Intelligent, analytical, hard-working.’” He looks to you, his confidence wavering. “That…sounds like me, right?”

You offer him a kind smile. “I think so, yeah. Did you pick a date?”

He shakes his head. “Not yet.” He briefly looks down again. “Says here I can do any day from the twenty-third of August to the twenty-second of September.”

You hum.

“Wait a second…” Steven trails off, grabbing his phone out of his pocket and typing something in.

“What?” you ask.

“Aha!” he says. “Twenty-fourth August. That’s what I want my birthday to be.”

“How come?”

“Tomb Buster premiered on that day in 1990. I reckon us Steven Grants should have the same birthday,” he explains with a grin.

You can’t help but match his smile. “August twenty-fourth it is, then. I’ll add it to my calendar.”

He closes the book again and hands it back to you. “Thank you for lending that to me, love.”

“Any time,” you say, taking the book and returning it to its spot on the bookshelf. You glance at the clock. “Ready to start on dinner?”

“Sounds good to me,” Steven says, standing up and following you to the kitchen.

After dinner has been taken care of and you’ve watched a movie, you’re in the bathroom getting ready for bed. You can hear Steven talking outside the door. You assume he’s conversing with his alters.

When you exit the bathroom, you see Steven standing at the fish tank, bottle of fish food in hand. He doesn’t seem to notice you as he continues on speaking. You realize he’s talking to the fish.

“Maybe I should’ve picked Pisces, Gus,” he muses.

Gus II and his two tank-mates, Tom and Jerry (named together by Marc and Jake, despite Steven’s protests), swim around in slow circles, seemingly waiting for Steven to feed them.

He shakes the bottle, watching the flakes drop gently into the water. “Then all three of us would be the same. And Pisces is fish, innit? It fits.”

“Steven!” you groan playfully. “You can’t just change your zodiac sign!”

“Why not?” he counters. “I just picked it today. There should be some sort of trial period, right?”

You snort. “Maybe, but I like the day you picked. It means something to you.”

“Alright, fine,” Steven says. He bids the fish good night before following you to the bed.

You settle in under the covers and say good night to one another. Your eyes are closed when you hear Steven ask into the darkness, “Do I get a cake for my birthday?”

You smile to yourself. “If you want one.”

“And presents?”

“Of course.”

It’s quiet for a moment. Then, “What about balloons?”

“Whatever you want, Steven,” you say fondly. “Whatever you want.”

A/N: Thank you so much for reading! Please feel free to let me know what you think. :)

#moon knight #mcu #steven grant #steven grant x reader #x reader #jace writes

[melodygatesauthor]

Goodnight, Princess

Yandere Dad's Best Friend - Santiago Garcia X f!Reader

Not Beta Read - For @romana-after-dark's Dead Dove December event!

PLEASE READ TAGS/DISCLAIMERS/WARNINGS BEFORE READING THIS FIC. THERE ARE DARK THEMES!

Summary

Your dad's best friend accidentally discovers that you're a sex worker. He tries to let it go, but it eats away at him until things go way too far.

This fic was written in first person from Santiago's perspective. I know that's not normally something I do, but if you give it a chance I think you'll like it hehe <3

Tags/Warnings

NSFW, non-con, dubious consent, rape, sex, unprotected sex, praise kink, masturbation, obsessive behavior, possessiveness, porn with some plot, smut, creampie, breeding kink if you squint, non-consensual somnophilia, intoxication, implied murder, dad's best friend, age gap, voyeurism, hidden cameras. DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT (that means that what you see in the tags WILL be in the fic, don't act surprised when you get exactly what you were warned about.)

Word Count: 5.7k

I should’ve put a stop to it the second I realized it was you on the other side of that wall.

Don’t ask me how I knew. A good guess? A hunch? Maybe I’d known you so long that I could tell, based on some deep ingrained instinct, exactly what your lips would feel like wrapped around my cock. You sucked on it like you knew what you were doing, like it wasn’t a challenge for you to take something so big in that pretty little mouth.

I recognized the sound of your moans almost right away. The hum of your voice when you started sucking my dick was the same sound you made at dinner the other night when you popped a spoonful of mashed potatoes in your mouth. Does your dad know you’re doing this? Do you care? Do you ever worry about what he might say if he finds out?

Don’t worry princess, I'll keep your secret. 

Our secret.

I bet you never thought I would find out about your slutty little side job. To be entirely honest, I didn’t think I’d find you working at a place like this. If you know me at all, and I know for a fact that you do, then you’d know I’m a lonely man. Years of serving in the military and the endless night terrors have made it difficult to find any sort of real relationship, so I’ve given up. That doesn’t mean I don’t still have needs, sweetheart.

Everybody jerks off, and I’m no exception. I don’t even know how many nights I’ve been in my room, cock in hand while I watch some crappy porno to get myself off. Every once in a while though, I like to treat myself to a little something more. Most people treat themselves to some kind of dessert, or a nice bottle of wine, but I like to treat myself to a night at Club BJ where all the dirty men go to get their rocks off.

I never thought I’d find you there.

Not a chance in hell did I think for even a second that you would be sucking random cocks on the other side of a gloryhole to earn a few extra bucks. You’re so good at it though, princess. How did you learn to swirl your tongue like that? Hm? Was it all the boys at college who taught you how to do that? Did they tell you what a pretty little girl you are while your lips were stretched around them?

They better have. They better have said thank you when they finished all over that beautiful face too.

I couldn’t speak to you. I couldn’t let you know it was me on the other side of that wall, so I hope the $200 tip I left you gets the point across. 

When I got home tonight, you were running through my mind like a fucking hamster on a wheel. I’m not sure what to do now, but I can’t shake how bad I want to go back to the club for another round. I’d pay thousands, probably even tens of thousands, just to have more…

But I can’t do that. Not to you, and not to your dad.

That was the first and only time I’m going to know what it’s like to feel you sucking my cock.

—

There’s no possible way for you to know what you do to me, well, for you to know that it was me on the other side of the hole that you were making feel so fucking good. I’m coming back again, despite promising I wouldn’t. I’ve been trying so hard to let it go, but I fucking can’t. You’re like a goddamn siren luring me back to that shithole, and I can’t resist your call.

I’ll be back on Friday, because that’s the night they set the girls up with their asses sticking out through the wall. I would assume the club has you bent over some kind of table on the other side of that wall? I’m not sure, but Friday can’t come soon enough. I feel like I need you.

Maybe if you hadn’t looked at me the way you did when I saw you today at your dad’s for dinner. Were you looking at me like that on purpose, sweetheart? I mean, you must be…right? Or have I completely lost my shit?

I probably lost my shit, let’s be honest.

I’ve known your dad since high school. I even helped him beat up a guy that was hitting on your mom back when she and your dad had just started dating. I’m really not a bad guy, and I’ve never looked at you like this. I mean it. But how can I look at you any differently now? How can I look at you any differently after what you did to me? What you did for me.

“Santi, can you pass the butter?” You asked, looking at me, probably no different than usual but I couldn’t think of anything other than those pouty lips wrapped around my dick again.

Did you notice the way my hand shook when I handed you the butter dish? Maybe not, but they were trembling and to be honest it was fucking annoying. I’m a man in his late thirties and I can’t get a grip on the feelings I’m developing for my best friend's goddamn kid. It’s wrong, disgusting, hell I’d kill someone if you were my kid.

But you’re not, and I can’t fucking help it, even though I tried.

Maybe someday, if you ever find out about any of this, I’ll tell you about how much I hated myself (hell, I still hate myself sometimes), when I came home with that post nut clarity. That might’ve been the best blowjob of my life, but I stood in front of my mirror for a good ten minutes trying to tell myself that I’d never go back to that hellhole, Club BJs. I meant it with all my heart when I said it over and over like a mantra.

Now I’m stuck though. I’m stuck thinking about you bent over with a wall separating the top half of your body from the bottom with countless men fucking you until you’re so full of cum you looked like a damn overstuffed pastry. You deserve to feel good. You deserve to have at least one of those men be someone that cares about you.

I guess I’ll have to be the one to do it. I guess this is how I’ll justify doing something I know I shouldn’t.

I’ll see you on Friday, princess.

—

It makes me feel a little bit better to know that every man in there is at least checked for STDs before he gets to fuck you. Surely you wouldn’t have signed up to work at a place like this if they weren’t. You’re smart, you’ve always been so smart. It’s one of the things I admire most about you.

Still not clever enough to know that I was one of those men who stood behind you that night. In fact, I was your last customer of the night. Your pussy was so puffy and swollen, those guys really stretched you out and fucked you good didn’t they? Don’t worry, princess, I took good care of you and gave your little hole a break. I won’t lie, it took everything in me not to use you the way they did, but I’ll do that another time.

Tonight I was on my knees for you, grabbing onto both of your asscheeks and spreading you out so I could clean up the mess those filthy men made of my little princess. You sounded so surprised, I heard you gasp, when I started eating you out. Did you like that? It sounded like you did. I could feel your thighs shaking and at some point you even started rocking back and forth like you wanted more.

Maybe you wanted me to fuck you. Were you hoping that the mystery man on the other side of the wall would clean you up and then fuck his own cum into you too? Or maybe you were happy to have the break. Either way, I licked your swollen clit until I could hear your pretty moans on the other side and feel your cunt throbbing against my tongue. Your slick tastes so good sweetheart, can’t believe you made something so delicious all by yourself.

“You’re not going to fuck me?” You asked me. I could almost hear the desperation in your voice, like you were begging me to come back and take you.

“No.” I said firmly, faking a deeper voice than my own.

Next time I will though, don’t worry sweetheart, I’ll fuck you so good you won’t want anyone else.

—

The same night I ate you out I rushed home to jerk off. It sounds crude to say, but fuck I couldn’t help it. The taste of your pussy was still on my lips. I could still smell you soaked into the stubble on my chin and upper lip. I’m making a mental note to snag a pair of your panties when I come over for the barbecue at your dad’s tomorrow night. Maybe that will help get me through this mess I’m in. Maybe it will help me stop this shit.

I know I can’t keep doing this, but the feeling I get when I’m scrolling through your instagram photos from last summer in your bikini with my cock squeezed in my hand is incredible. I’m looking at those perfect tits hidden beneath such a thin layer of fabric, and your pretty rear is barely covered at all.

When I came it’s like I was possessed, blowing up a picture of your face just so I could imagine myself coating it in all of me. I don’t even really want to talk about how hard it was to clean that mess off my phone.

I feel like I’m losing myself in the depraved thoughts and fantasies I’m having of you. I woke up with soaked sheets and I thought I fucking pissed myself, but I didn’t, it was…something else. I’d dreamt of you. I can’t remember exactly what was happening in that dream, but it must’ve been good, and I’m annoyed that I still can’t remember what it was about.

—

A small part of me, the part of me that still had some morals left, was hoping you’d be working your day job. (honestly I can’t even remember what your day job is, aren’t you a housekeeper? Or a waitress or something?) At least if you were working I wouldn’t have to see you. I wouldn’t have to think about you more than I already was. Not to mention, I wouldn’t have had to sit there and watch you laugh with your ‘friend’ that you’d invited over.

You told your dad when you introduced him, “we’re just friends dad.”

You said it with such an attitude that both your dad and I knew better. You might’ve thought you were just friends, but that guy wanted more, and I knew you were going to give it to him. I could tell by the way you looked at him when you thought no one was paying attention.

I bet you didn’t think I’d hear you both making out in your room that night, but your moans call me now like a moth to a flame. The other barbecue guests had gone home, and your dad was drunk and passed out in his recliner, and I heard you faintly over the hum of the crappy reality show on tv. I didn’t pause the show, I didn’t want to wake up your dad, so I went upstairs silently, masked by the sound on the tv.

Initially, I wanted to walk in there and rip this kid off of you, giving him a few vicious but empty threats before sending him on his way with his tail between his legs. Your voice stopped me in my tracks though.

“Shh, I don’t want my dad to hear us,” you whispered, followed by a sweet giggle.

He won’t, princess. I thought, as though it were me you were talking to and not this loser.

You’d left your bedroom door open, per your dad’s request, such a good little girl. Despite being a grown woman, you still did what your daddy told you, and that’s the only reason I was able to hide in the bathroom and hear you get fucked while I jerked off and imagined I was with you instead of…whatever the fuck his name is.

“Oh god!” You whined, making my body shudder.

That guy doesn’t talk much, and that made it all the easier for me to imagine myself in his place.

When you said, “mm, harder, please…”

I was right there to say, “anything you want, sweetheart.”

I tried to move my hand in time with the light thump of your bed against the wall. It helped. What didn’t help was the fact that I could tell how little you were enjoying yourself. You were making the same sounds you made when you were ass out at the gloryhole. I knew I could do better, I knew I could make your body shake with pleasure like when I was kneeling down behind you with my tongue working overtime on your sensitive clit.

You were pretty good at faking it though, good enough that I was a leaking mess, precum dripping all down my shaft while I worked myself behind the wall your bedroom shared with the bathroom. I really wanted to go in there, tell that guy to get lost and give you the night of your life, but I didn’t. Instead I stood there, spilling a few globs of cum into some toilet paper and calling it good enough.

I was quick to head back downstairs before you even knew I was up there in the first place. That guy had the audacity to say goodnight to me in the kitchen on his way out the door. I let that go pretty quickly because then it was just you and me alone in the kitchen while your dad slept soundly in the living room.

You have no idea how badly I wanted to ask you for the pleasure of taking care of you, of making sure that you got off too, but I bit my tongue. Instead we made small talk about how your college was going and you asked me about Benny, Frankie and Will. 

For a moment I had forgotten about all the things that transpired between us, or that I’d done while thinking about you, and you were just my best friend’s kid again. We were just two people who had known each other for a long time, catching up and making small talk. Then you had to bend over in your shorts, and my cock ignored its usual refractory period to spring alive and nag for attention again.

“You okay, Santi?” You’d asked so innocently, as if I didn’t know what that mouth was capable of, or what that body could take.

“I’m fine, sweetheart.”

I’m not fucking fine, but that doesn’t matter.

—

You slept like a rock that night, not even stirring in the slightest when I grabbed your panties out of your hamper by the closet. They didn’t look particularly fancy, so I assume you won’t miss them, will you? Doesn’t matter anyway, you’d never expect that I’m the one who took them.

I can’t even begin to tell you how disgusting I felt when I got home the next morning and I had placed your panties on my bed in front of me like a prize I’d won. I think I stared at them for at least a full ten minutes before I picked them up again and put them in my nightstand. I’ve never been a “panty sniffer” and I tried to convince myself that just knowing I had them in my possession was enough.

Have you ever read The Tell-Tale Heart? I remember when I was in high school I had to, and it stuck with me for some reason. Your underwear in my nightstand reminded me of that story in some ways. It’s like all I could hear were your moans in my ears and no matter where I went in the house the temptation to smell the remnants of your cunt on that fabric was following me.

So finally, here I am, two weeks after you first sucked my cock, and I can shamefully admit that I did it. I smelled them, and sweetheart, you smell so much better without all that cum inside of you. Of course the panties can’t compare to the real thing, which I don’t know if I’ll ever smell without six loads of spend inside, but god I hope I get the privilege one day.

Or maybe I hope I don’t.

I’m still so torn between the fact that you’re my best friend’s kid, and the way I want to bury my dick so far in that pretty little cunt that you’re seeing stars.

—

I was first in line tonight. It’s Friday night so your ass was out again and untouched this time. You weren’t wet yet which excited me for some reason. It meant I got to have the honors of making you nice and slick.

My hand looks so big against your ass, princess. I wish I could show you. That was me who rubbed your clit, making you shake and whine for more on the other side of the wall. I’m the one who slipped my thick middle finger in that greedy little hole, and then my index finger, and then the ring finger.

I’m guessing you liked it based on how slippery you got, and how much you moaned on the other side. Do you know how dedicated your customers are? One of them got pissed at me for taking too long with you. I can’t say I blame them, your pussy is perfect sweetheart.

God the feeling of sliding my dick between those pretty pussy lips is like nothing I’ve ever felt. As I bottomed out, I felt your walls were squeezing around me like you wanted me deeper, so of course I pushed in more, all the way until I couldn’t go further. You gasped like you hadn’t felt a hundred dicks inside you before mine. 

I slid back again and slammed into you. I heard you begging me to keeping going, and saying, “fuck you’re good, holy shit!”

It was so hard not to say all the filthy things I wanted to when I fucked you, princess. I wanted to tell you how good you looked like that, pussy lips split around my cock like it wanted to swallow me whole. I wanted to ask you if you would like me to stick my thumb in your ass but decided to just try it anyway and see how you reacted.

You liked it.

At least it seemed like you did, your cunt clamped down around my dick like a damn vice grip the moment my thumb popped through your tight little hole. Did you like having something in your ass sweetheart? It’s shocking how tight you are, given how often I know you’re getting fucked. Some of the guys coming in behind me were big, some even bigger than me, but you don’t like them as much as you do when I fuck you, right? Of course not, because you don’t sound like that when you’re with them.

I caught a small glimpse of your eye through the hole. There was a small gap between the wall and your hips and you were looking at the same time I was. Did you see me? Did you have time to realize who I was? Did you come right then and there because you liked the idea of your dad’s best friend fucking you until you were too spent for anyone else?

Your orgasm forced me to come at the same time you did. I can’t even begin to tell you what it felt like to spill my load inside of you like I’d wanted to for so long. I remember so clearly being pushed up against your ass, pulling my thumb out of your hole so I could squeeze your hips and pull you over my dick further. It’s like I was willing every ounce of it to fill you up so full that no one else could. It’s like I was trying to make sure that when you look in the mirror a few months from now, you’ll remember the feeling of the man who fucked a baby into you.

I’m not an idiot. Well, I am, but I know that you’re on birth control. I know that no matter how many times I fuck you, the chances of you actually getting pregant are slim, not that I’d want to get you pregnant anyway. That would be too much, and I don’t want to go too far.

I’m not going to go too far.

—

I went to your house today.

I already had an excuse planned if I somehow got caught while you and your dad were out. If you or your father saw me, I’d say I came back for my hat. It’s not a total lie, I did leave my hat behind, but neither of you needed to know it was on purpose.

Do you realize how much dust has collected on the little stuffed bear you have on the shelf facing directly across from your bed, sweetheart? I doubt it, but it does make for the perfect place to put the small camera I bought.

I feel so fucking gross I can hardly stand to look at myself. But I can’t stand not to watch you touch yourself either. The glory hole is great, but I want to see that pretty face when you’re coming so hard you can’t breathe right, and I can’t do that when I’m on the other side of a fucking wall can I?

Seeing you later that night while I was at my own house, fist closed around my cock and watching you play with yourself is worth all the self loathing in the world. I had the camera feed pulled up on my laptop, and I could see you walking over to your dresser. God, what an array of toys you have. Do you have all those toys because you like them? Or is it because you haven’t found someone who knows their way around your body yet?

If it’s the latter, I promise you won’t need those things once I’m done with you.

Fuck, princess. The one you picked out is so damn big. I’ve seen you fit some pretty big cocks in that little hole, but I was shocked to see you squeezing lube around the head of that thing and gliding it over your pussy lips. You took a deep breath. Does it hurt to take such a fat silicone dick like that? 

Fuck, I’m glad I put the camera where I did. Who had you so wet like that? Hm? Were you thinking about anyone in particular? Can you even get that entire dildo in there? I hated to admit how much I liked watching you struggle. My cock leaked so fucking much I thought I was going to come too fast, but I kept it together.

You finally pushed it in, and I’m so damn proud of you princess. You had a really hard time going all the way though, didn’t you? That tight little pussy of yours was stretched to its limit and you were only halfway in there. Why do you even have a dildo that size if you can’t get it all the way in your cunt? Are you trying to stretch yourself out for someone? You don’t have to stretch yourself for me, I’d be happy to take care of that for you myself.

I watched you push it in even more, I was so focused on the furrow of your turned up brow and the way you bit your lip while I stared. We both exhaled the moment you managed to fit the entire thing in. Your eyes rolled back like it was the best thing you’d ever felt. You really do enjoy being stuffed full, don’t you, sweetheart?

You started fucking yourself with it, the sounds of your wet cunt hit my ears like the sweetest music I’d ever heard. I stroked myself in time with your movements, my eyes focused right on your face, and my cock throbbed every time you moaned. Wasn’t your dad home tonight? Shouldn’t you be a bit quieter when you’re doing stuff like that? Maybe you just don’t care if he hears you.

You started fucking yourself faster so of course I was jerking myself harder, trying to keep up with you without losing it too quickly. It didn’t take long for you to come though. Did you like the feeling of that toy that much? You gushed around it, you choked back some moans but several other soft whimpers escaped, filling your room and hitting my ears through the camera feed. I came too, coating my knuckles and my stomach with so much cum I didn’t know I was even capable of producing that much.

Why’d you have to ruin it? Huh?

It was such a good fucking orgasm for both of us, and then I heard you say a name. It wasn’t my name though, was it, princess? I don’t know why that bothers me so fucking much. Maybe it’s because in some twisted way I’ve managed to convince myself that you were putting on that private show just for me. So if you did do it for me, then I don’t want to hear you saying some other guy’s name while you’re fucking your self like that sweetheart. 

I just don’t.

—

I lost it today.

I really fucking lost it today, princess.

I found that guy. You know the one who fucked you the other night while I jerked off in the bathroom? That ‘friend’ of yours? The one whose name you called out instead of mine?

I found him.

I…

—

Did you miss me, sweetheart? I’m sorry, but I had to leave for a while, at least until things quieted down, and until you weren’t sad anymore. I know I should feel bad, but I don’t. I would probably do it again a thousand times if I had to.

You seemed fine during dinner at your dad’s tonight. I don’t really think you were that upset over the guy anyway, but it doesn’t matter. I don’t want to hear his name come out of that pretty mouth again. Ever.

After too much wine during (and after) dinner, I carried you upstairs. You never could handle your liquor. Remember when you were only eighteen and I would let you sneak a few shots under your old man’s nose when he wasn’t looking? Your dad was sleeping when I put you down gently in your bed. Your skin is so fucking soft it killed me to step away from you.

Your eyes opened for a moment meeting with mine. I felt my gut stir at the sight of you biting your lip. Why were you doing that to me? Didn’t you know how that would affect me? I couldn’t resist the way you looked at me that night. No one would’ve been able to. It’s not fair for you to put me in that position and expect that I’m just going to walk away. When I think back to it, this was all your fault, princess.

“Santi,” you said sweetly.

I almost climbed on top of you right then when you grabbed my shirt and pulled me closer. I almost grabbed your throat and fucked you through your shorts, but I held back.

“What, princess?” I asked you, putting a caring hand on your shoulder, trying to fight back my more primal urges screaming in my head.

You shivered, “I-mm-need something towearto mm-bed,” you slurred out.

I could see the curve of your hip disappear into your too-short shorts. I really don’t want you going out in public wearing things like that. I gave you my shirt to keep you warm. I hope it’s comfortable, sweetheart, I can’t let you go cold, can I? When I leaned down to put it over your head, I felt such a fucking ache in my chest when your face appeared again through the hole. Such a pretty babygirl.

“Thank you,” you smiled contentedly and snuggled into your pillows.

I gulped, “princess,” I whispered, slowly creeping my fingers toward the hem of your shorts where they rested on your waist.

“Hm?” You hummed, but you weren’t really awake anymore, from what I could tell.

When I touched your soft, exposed hip you didn’t stir at all, and when I slipped my fingers underneath your panties, then your shorts, you didn’t make a sound. When I pushed both down to your ankles and dropped them on the floor, you didn’t open your eyes. You didn’t have any fucking clue what I was going to do to you, did you?

Did you feel my fingers when I slipped them between your thighs and felt your little wet cunt? I bet you did, even if you didn’t realize you were feeling it. I thought I would wake you up for sure when I pushed you onto your back and climbed over you. And when that didn’t wake you up, I thought, without a doubt, that when I pulled my cock out and touched it against your slick pussy lips your eyes would shoot open and you’d catch me in the act.

You didn’t though, you stayed deep in your drunken sleep, and I could get away with doing anything I wanted to you.

I’m still wondering what I would’ve done if you’d caught me. What would I say? How would I justify this feeling I craved that only you could satisfy? Would I even need to say anything? Surely you would recognize the feeling of the cock that made you come so good in that glory hole. Surely you’d be desperate for me to keep going.

Being able to look at your face, even if you were asleep, while I slid my dick into your wet heat made my brain stop fucking working. I couldn’t even think. It was like my body just took over, hips rocking into you over and over without a care in the world for how loud the bed was creaking.

You still didn’t feel anything when I dipped down and kissed you, my hips still thrusting slowly against you. This isn’t a Disney movie, and I’m no prince charming, but you’re still my little princess, aren’t you? You’re like my personal sleeping beauty, except my soft kisses didn’t wake you from your drunken slumber.

Thank god.

I kissed all the way down your jawbone until I got to your neck. You’re so soft, and you smell so nice. I kinda wish you’d been awake so I could’ve heard you whimper and whine in my ear. I want to hear you tell me how good it feels to have my cock slamming into your pussy, sweetheart. I want to feel your lips on my neck, my chest, all over my body.

“You take me so well, princess.” I whispered in your ear, hoping that somewhere deep in your dreams you’d hear my words and know I was inside you. “You feel so good, I can’t stop. Never felt anything-so-fucking-g-good-I-f-fuck…”

I came so much that when I pulled back my cum poured out of you as if my cock was a dam holding back a river. I still wonder if I should’ve cleaned you up, but I didn’t. Maybe you’d remember that I was the one who brought you upstairs and you’d put the pieces together.

I can imagine it now, you waking up in the morning with a dried up substance between your thighs. You might not know what it is right away, but I’m sure when you go to the bathroom and notice the hickeys peppered all over your neck, you’ll know that something must’ve happened to you the night before.

I’m not sure what to do now.

I need to have you for myself, that much is clear. The thought of someone else touching you ever again is killing me, so I have to take you. I’ll take you away from all this shit, and I’ll take good care of you. You won’t have to work at that nasty place anymore, I’ll be sure of that. And please don’t worry, princess. When your dad is looking for you, and he needs a friend to help him through the tough times, and the times he’s missing you, I’ll be that friend. He will only be sad for a little while. 

If things go wrong, and someone finds this…well I guess it’s a journal isn’t it? I won’t be able to deny the things I’ve done. I should burn it, but I can’t bring myself to do that. When I read it back, it’s almost like I can relive our time together. Someday I might show you this so you can understand why I did what I had to do, why I have to keep you.

Until then, I hope you sleep well tonight, your final night in your childhood home. I hope you enjoy your last breakfast with your loving dad, and that the two of you don’t argue before he leaves for work. Make sure you give him a kiss on the cheek and tell him you love him, because I’ll be over before he gets home from work.

Goodnight, princess.

Back to Main Masterlist

Back to Triple Frontier Masterlist

#santiago garcia #triple frontier fanfiction #triple frontier #santiago garcia x reader #santiago pope garcia #santi x reader #santiago #garcia #santiago garcia x you #santi garcia x reader #santi garcia x you #santi garcia fanficiton #santi garcia fan fiction #santi garcia fanfic #santi garcia fan fic #santiago garcia fanfiction #santiago garcia fan fiction