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flowerbetweenfangs · 2 days

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Traditions

This was posted a while ago under an old account of mine. I spruced it up and changed a few things. It features one of my most popular characters, a minotaur named Rosso. Here he and the reader discuss traditions.

CW: Pregnancy. Injury (Rosso + hammer = ow)

Metallic clanging echoed through the house when you entered. Then, it was followed by a meaty smack.

“Chronos’ Balls!” Another smack, then a thud of something hitting the carpet. “Gaea’s Tit!”

Pausing in the kitchen, you double-checked to make sure the burners were off. Whatever had been prepared was still in the pots, but it smelled good. At least you didn’t have to worry about the house burning down.

Sucking in a breath, you set down the groceries and prepared herself for what you were about to find in the second bedroom.

Hunched over the floor, was your fiancé. Rosso pulled back, sucking on his index finger. As he cradled his hand,

You took in the mess.

There were blood splatters on the floor, but he’d thankfully put down a tarp. Your eyes followed the chaos, seeing a broken screwdriver, warped hammers, splintered nails, and stripped screws. A bag of tools was spilled over the carpet, thankfully none stuck in it.

His project was a pile of scrap metal and leather. It had started to form some sort of foundation, but it wasn’t obvious where it was headed. Papers were scattered all over the outside of the tarp, spared from the mess.

Looking down, You saw the diagrams. They’d been hand-drawn. The pictures were clear enough, showing a breast and shoulder plate, with a few pieces of leather. Apparently, it would form a sort of bassinet that could be converted into a pen. There seemed to be additional instructions written in Ancient Greek, the print big enough for the Minotaur to read.

Rosso bandaged his finger, and there were several more dressings on his hand and arm.

“You know, if you wanted a crib for the baby, we could have bought one.” If they could find one big enough it. Getting one custom-made would be costly. You tried to do mental calculations, but your thoughts were interrupted by the occupant of your womb kicking.

Knees weak, you sucked in a breath and put a hand on your stomach. The movement must have pushed on your bladder because you needed to pee.

Once you came out of the bathroom, Rosso was laying on his stomach, having cleaned up the worst of the mess. His chin rested on the back of his hands as he stared at the diagrams.

“It’s tradition.” He said, frowning.

“To brutalize yourself with a hammer?” you looked at the tools, your back hurt at the thought of leaning down and picking them up.

Sighing, he looked up. “No. We break down our armor. Melt it to scrap. Tear up the leather. That way a small piece of us is there to protect the calf. Then, we get new armor so we can be a better fighter for them.” His ears flapped in irritation, tail whipping through the air. You had to sidestep to avoid it.

“I tried with the hammer and kept breaking the nails. I broke the screwdriver and stripped all the screws. And the drill’s too small for my hands.” Sitting up, he rubbed the length of his horns. Squeezing the points, he let out a long breath.

“I wanted to surprise you. But I just made a mess.” He sighed and knelt in the mess of papers and metal. “The Herd wanted to help, but…” His tail whipped again. “It’s hard enough to move around this place on my own.”

Staring at the scrap, you put a hand on top of his head, fingers tangling in his hair. His ears flapped and he let out a soft grunt of enjoyment.

“Why don’t I help? “you took the remaining nails and frowned. “Are these even long enough…?”

Holding them next to the bandages, you rolled your eyes. No wonder he kept smashing them. They were shorter than his fingers were thick. Some dents in the metal told you he’d tried to hammer without holding them.

Athena had not been his Patron Goddess.

“Are you sure it’s a good idea?” His eyes went to your stomach, ears drooping.

“I’m pregnant, not helpless.” Picking up the diagrams, you tried to match the pieces. “Besides, it’s my baby too.”

“Here.” You passed the papers to Rosso. “You brains. Me brawn.”

He looked at the diagrams, sucking in a breath.

“What?”

“… I was reading this upside down.”

“I keep telling you that you need glasses.” you chided.

Picking up the least broken hammer ,you begin to try and make sense of the mess.

“That puff machine… I don’t trust it.” He rested his chin on the back of his hand, picking up the heavier pieces and beginning to move them around. When you shot him a look, his ears flicked back.

“You ain’t helpless, but this is Asterian armor, baby.” He rapped his knuckles on the metal, wincing and shaking his hand. “Heavy and sturdy.”

Rosso showed you what pieces went where, and you want to work. When your hands shook trying to hold something, he’d steady it for her.

The leather was easy enough, but it would go last. Metal to metal was another thing entirely, and you had to throw your full upper body strength into the swing and pray the nail didn’t give out before the armor.

Eventually, you were able to drown out his wincing when you brought the face of the hammer down close to your hands without injury. Your palms ached, but you didn’t want to stop. The armor had been Rosso’s most prized possession. This meant more to him than you could even fathom.

One of the few things he had left from his side of the Blend. And he’d used it to make something new.

You managed to get it looking similar enough to the final picture, albeit more dented and scuffed than probably intended. The family crest was at the head of the bassinet. She’d have to buy blankets and pillows to make the thing actually comfortable for the future occupant.

Putting a hand on the side, you shook it. The structure held. Rosso mimicked her, smiling when it didn’t fall apart. If Earthshaker himself couldn’t break it, then it was safe for a baby.

It was a lot bigger than any she’d seen before. But if Rosso was anything to go by, the baby would be huge. Even at five months, many thought you were due any day. The visits to the doctor had shown a large fetus, but thankfully no horns. Possibly a tail.

The thought of four more months of this…

Sighing, you put a hand to your stomach, letting it rest there.

“Kicking again?” Rosso put his hand on the bump, ears flicking with excitement. Then, he frowned, his disappointment palpable.

“No, just thinking. “you looked at the structure. “Seeing this makes it feel more real, you know?” It was all coming so fast. The months had seemed like an eternity, but each day seemed to slip by faster and faster. It had only been six months, but the doctors said that due to the baby’s size, you would likely have to induce and possibly cut them out. you didn’t like the idea but, after a bruised rib, your body was ready to evict.

Taking your hand, Rosso bent down to kiss it. “I know he wasn’t planned, but between us and the herd, that’s going to be the most loved calf this side of the Blend.”

“So they’re a boy? “you teased.

Rosso shrugged. “Boy. Girl. Something in between, they’re gonna be the luckiest kid in the world.” He chuckled. “If they’re twins…”

She seized the front of his shirt. Despite your own strength being no match for his own, he allowed himself to be pulled so their eyes were level. He held perfectly still so his horns wouldn’t accidentally puncture her.

“If you Cassandra another baby into me, I will make what happened at the Labyrinth look like child’s play.”you released him, “It’s hard enough with just the one.”

Clearing his throat, Rosso smiled apologetically. Then, he snapped his fingers and went to the diagrams. Picking up a folded piece of paper, he turned it over and dumped something into his hand.

“One more tradition.” He showed your four pieces of scrap, grey and small. Well, small for him. “I was going to take these to the silversmith tomorrow.”

“We don’t exchange rings. Isn’t too practical with how much you’re going to be punching and moving things.” He lifted it up and held it in front of his ear, where an earring would go.

“If you want, we can get it engraved, but if we have a matching set, then everyone’s going to know…” He placed two pieces of the scrap in your hand. You turned it over, running your finger along the length.

“I know we’ve been open about the relationship, but this is… It makes it real. And it’s…”

“Important.” you finished, smiling. Putting a hand to your lobe, you nodded. The metal was heavy, but would probably be more manageable post smithing. “Just make sure these won’t rust.”

His eyes widened, and you realized the thought hadn’t occurred to him. Closing his fist, he nodded.

“I’ll take care of it. I promise.” He fiddled with his ear. “I’ve never been pierced before, so it’ll be interesting.”

Taking the metal back from her, he secured them in the envelope and smiled, placing his hands on his hips, looking around the room.

“Next question.”

“Hm?” you let your breath out.

“Who’s going to be your fellow sacrifices?” He said it so plainly, you wondered if he’d said something else.

She blinked rapidly, shaking your head. “I beg your pardon?”

“Minos had seven maidens and seven striplings sacrificed to the minotaur each year.” He paused, rubbing his chin. “Or was it nine years?” He shrugged and shook his head. “But it’s a tradition, just a spectacle, and a simple foot race, because… Greek.” He chuckled. “And then I’ll have to carry you to the altar.”

“Am I going to have to run from you with this?”you gestured to your stomach. “I think that’s a short race.” And knowing Rosso, he’d break the venue apart.

Picking you up, he kissed you.

“You know I’d always catch you anyway.”

“Implying I don’t let you.” You wrapped your arms around his neck. “And at the rate this baby’s growing, I’m going to be the size of seven maidens, anyway.”

“Aphrodite would be jealous of your beauty.” He nuzzled you, “She’d send you right to me, intending you to be a sacrifice. But that punishment would be a reward.”

“You’re playing with fire.” You warned, but couldn’t help but smile. His mood was a lot higher than before.

He kissed you again, setting you down and pulling out his phone. “I’m going to call the Herd and see if we can get something set up.” Holding it up, he began to snap pictures of the bassinet.

“Going to show them what we did?”

“Yep.” He frowned. “We still have to pick out a name…”

“One thing at a time.”

#monster lover #monster love #monster x human #monster romance #monster boyfriend #monster x reader #monster bf #monster fluff #cw pregnancy #cw: pregnancy #terato #writeblr #monster fucker #monsterfucker #minotaur #minotaur boyfriend #minotaur x human #minotaur x reader

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zeb-z · 8 months

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Foolish had the exact same conclusion that Bad did about how to break into the vault, but no one believed it could have been Foolish to figure something like that out? When Bad fessed up, everyone was like oh that makes more sense, it’s less of a mystery, surely Foolish couldn’t figure out such a thing?

It’s like. I love and hate when people underestimate Foolish, it’s a double edged sword. Like no, he’s not some one dimensional airhead who can’t rub two brain cells together. He’s clever and he’s charismatic, and sure he can be giggly and chaotic, and sure he can speak without thinking, but he’s not stupid. On the other hand, it’s so satisfying because this means he gets away with a metric fuck ton of bullshit. He gets so severely underestimated that his true potential or intentions are never guessed at.

Everyone assumes that because he’s silly and impulsive with a tendency to lose focus means he doesn’t have the capacity to be serious, to be intelligent, to be clever. It’s a mistake made time and time again that its almost insulting, definitely frustrating - yet it is so fun to watch, because it means he gets away with it yet again.

#it’s like can we stop saying foolish doesn’t have brain cells to rub together #but also don’t stop saying it because it means he can keep getting away with shit #weaponized incompetence but like not in the misogyny way. in fact the opposite way tbh he’s a girls girl ifjsjfjdjfj #I respect the joke because listen. he’s stupid but he’s not an idiot. but come on now yknow #he’s a himbo who can swap up on you real fucking quick yknow what I mean #it just can get so patronizing and I’m over it I’m over it #mcyt #qsmp #foolish gamers #q!foolish #z speaks

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jasontoddenthusiastt · 6 months

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I always smh at people who dub Jason as “whiny” “and therefore ooc” in tt 29. If you died and all everyone did was taint your legacy, and not a single person remembered you fondly or deemed you worthy of commemoration after your death, wouldn’t you be a bit upset too?

#the only thing that was ooc about Jason there was all the shit talking the other characters were doing about him.#and some of the things Jason said about himself because he left whatever small amounts of self esteem he actually had back in his grave #he was very cooperative shy and clever with the titans in the 80s #it’s not enough that his own father told him to his face that he is a product of his own problems #everyone he knew and had good working relationships with just completely shut him out and turned their backs #even if you don’t mean it/it’s more complicated than that #if someone you knew died but now you got a chance to tell them what you couldn’t wouldn’t you at least muster up an ‘I’m glad you’re back’#apparently not lol #kelseethe #it’s the fact that people label him *being upset* as ‘illogical’ or stupid that irks me #I was talking with a mutual about this too but #if a female character did exactly his actions #I don’t think people would be so quick to stomp all over her and call her weak/overbearing/hysterical #or to give her the dismissive patronizing eye roll treatment #even though they deemed her actions to be exaggerated/misdirected/an outburst by any standard #they’d probably say she’s written like an actual human and that she resonates with a lot of people haha #he evaded all their security systems and effectively took down anyone who was present in the tower.#I’d say his skills are pretty in-character.#the idea that men can get emotional is just not palatable to you people just admit it #if it isn’t silent brooding stoic manpain you people will projectile vomit all over it and call it ‘bad characterization’

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hoshigray · 6 months

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𝐎𝐥𝐝 𝐓𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐬, 𝐒𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐓𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐬 | toji fushiguro

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: Your ex-husband bringing the kids over for trick-or-treating is one thing; him wanting to spend the night at your place is another. But it's just for the night. There's no way one night can rekindle some old feelings...right?

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: ex-husband! Toji x fem! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - the reader is around their mid-30s - Tsumiki (age 11) and Megumi (age 9) - mutual pining - kissing/makeout sessions - unprotected sex - Daddy kink - breast sucking + nipple play - fingering (f! receiving) - oral (f! receiving) - spooning + mating press - cervix fucking - breeding kink - praise - clitoral play (pressing and grinding) - pet names (baby, good girl, mama, princess, sweetie, sweet thing) - you and Toji have been divorced for five years - cameos: Gojo, Utahime and Mei Mei - mention of drool/spit and tears - humor bc I'm [not] funny.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 7.6k (....dawg.)

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: happy Halloween, everyone!! so, randomly missed writing ex-husband! toji bc it's lowkey my favorite, soooo yeah, this is what we're doing to celebrate the end of the month! anywho, happy October, beautiful ppl, and tysm for reading my works!! Alsooo, ty for 2.8k!!!

“Trick-or-treat!!”

“Gasp—Oh my goodness!”

“We came to celebrate Halloween! Also, Megumi forgot his toothbrush here again.”

Opening your door to children at the sunset of Halloween day isn’t out of the ordinary or anything special. However, it’s always a pleasant surprise when it’s two kids you hold dear to your heart. You greet them with a hug, two siblings you know too well to say you’re acquainted with. If anything, you’re practically family.

The raven-haired brother, referred to as Megumi, speaks up. “It’s not my fault! Dad was rushing me last time.”

“Because you had to bring your stuffed animals last time, holding us back for your baseball practice.” Tsumiki, the older sister, snapped back. The two argue amongst themselves in front of you as you try to mediate. It’s no avail until another voice comes to the fray.

“All right, chill out, you two.” The voice belonged to the person approaching the porch stairs, your eyesight capturing the familiar figure walking up with two duffle bags. The one standing tall before you was the father of the children, Toji Fushiguro. Who’s also known as your one and only former husband. “Get inside and finish y’r homework, or else we’re goin’ back home.”

The siblings stop bickering and head inside, taking off their shoes at the foyer and walking upstairs. Now that they’re gone, you turn to the man with the jet-black hair, his viridian orbs focused on you. The weather was chilly, so the man wore his usual dark denim jacket over his plain black sweatshirt, matching his jeans. “You look good, big guy. What’s in the bags?”

He greets you with a curled lip, and the scar on the side of his lip lifts. “Picked them up from their after-school sports, so it’s their sports gear and costumes for tonight. Mind helpin’ me here?”

“Hmmm,” you merge your facial expressions to that of faux pondering, turning your back to Toji. “Nah, can’t. Got dinner to finish making.”

“Hmph, should’ve known.” He makes his way through between you and the front door. “Wouldn’t wanna break your pretty nails carrying heavy shit, huh, princess?”

You glare at him using the nickname, hating his patronizing gaze. “From what I remembered, you would never let me carry the heavy stuff because you thought I was too fragile and easy to break. So how about that, Mr. Knight in Shining Armor?”

“Really? I don’t remember sayin’ all that before. You must’ve put me in a spell.”

“Probably, I’ve been told I’m quite cute~.”

“Mmm, nah, more like an old hag of a witch.” Toji barks a laugh at your offended reaction, and he immediately ducks and heads for the stairs when you throw a sandal at him.

“At the very least, say I’m a cute witch, fucker.” You say the final word under your breath, grabbing the sandal you threw and heading back to the kitchen.

To say you and Toji were acquainted with one another would be the biggest understatement of the century. The two of you met a decade ago, fell madly in love, and married within a year of the relationship. When you tied the knot, Tsumiki had to have been two years old, and Megumi just turned one year old. You two had been together for four years after that, and you could confidently say those were one of [if not THE] best years of your life. You often second-guessed yourself being in a relationship with someone who had children, fearing that they wouldn’t like you or ignore you.

However, those worries were blown right away as the days went by. Every time you spent time with the children brought you three closer than ever; it was to the point that they saw you as their mother. How sweet! And there’s no denying that Toji loved you. The man would break someone’s nose for you — yes, it happened before, and it wasn’t pretty — for you were his sweet little thing that kept him going.

Well, if it was so great, why the divorce? Let’s just say you weren’t Toji’s first love. That title would have to be awarded to the Megumi’s mother. Even in her unfortunate passing, you can tell that Toji loved that woman like no other. It didn’t make you jealous or anything, seeing the man you love still mourn for a dead woman. Hell, you’d probably do the same if you were him. But, you can’t lie; it felt like you were cast over a “shadow” when it came to her influence. It was damn near suffocating to bear, especially in those four years of marriage. So, for your sake and his aching heart, you pulled him aside and suggested a divorce. And Toji didn’t fight you on the proposition, signing the papers and setting you free from the thick air.

Although things ended between you two, that didn’t mean things stopped being what they were. If anything, it was as if nothing happened at all. Even if you still don’t live under the same roof, you still make time to hang with the Fushiguros, whether invited to some occasion or exchange phone calls or texts to check up on them. Even now, five years after your separation, it warms your heart knowing that you get to interact with the people you care about.

There are moments you find yourself missing living under the same roof with all three of them and living alone can be pretty lonely. But all in all, as long as they’re comfortable and trust you enough to be around, there’s no need to change things up again. Like right now — the four of you sit at the dinner table eating before the kids go off trick-or-treating.

“Are you going to trick-or-treat with us, Y/n?” The brown-haired child sitting next to you asks while finishing up her dinner.

“Sorry, not this time, gotta be at a Zoom meeting for my job in a few minutes. But I do have someone else to take my place. Gojo will be here at around—Why are you two making that face?” You stop mid-sentence to notice Megumi and Toji at the other side of the table, displaying disgusted facial expressions at the mention of the white-haired other’s name.

“Why him?” They said in unison.

“Why not??” You question their irritation.

“He’s so annoying…” Again, in unison. Proof enough that they’re father and son.

You sigh as you get up to take your plate to the sink. “Oh, come on, you two, it’s not like he’ll be with you guys the entire night. He has a party at a friend’s he’s going to later.”

“Isn’t he too old to trick-or-treat?” Tsumiki questions, noting that Gojo is way past his undergraduate years.

“He is, but whatever gets that prick any free sweets,” Toji answers his daughter before getting up to put his dish in the sink.

You exit the kitchen, head into the living room, and sit on the couch. The laptop you had placed there was ready to open and unlock, and you clicked on applications and windows to look through before your meeting started in the next three to two minutes. He should be here about—

DING-DONG!!

Now.

Right on cue, you motion for Toji to grab the front door, and he follows your command. “Kids, Gojo’s here!” You shout out to the two kids who still sit at the table. “When you’re done eating, you can go upstairs and put your costumes on. But whoever finishes last has to do the dishes.” You can hear commotion from the table as the brunette rushes to put her dish in the sink and dash for the stairs. Megumi groans to himself; you giggle when you hear him mutter an “Aww man…”

You pull out your headphones to connect to your laptop, put them in their respective ears, and prepare yourself for the meeting. Ignoring the faint passive-aggressive tones of your ex-husband when greeting Gojo at the door…

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Your eyes flutter open, noticing the lighting change around the living room. The orange sunlight no longer decorated the space, substituted with the gradual darkness that overtakes you. The only source of light you can figure out is the flashing from the television screen.

Aside from the TV, there are no other signs of life. There aren’t any signs of Tsumiki or Megumi around playing or causing a raucous. It could only mean the two are still trick-or-treating with Gojo.

One blink, two blinks. I must’ve fallen asleep after the meeting… You hum while sinking to the couch, burying your face into the pillow.

But…since when did your pillow act like it was breathing with a heartbeat? And…I smelt that cologne before…How?

“Ya awake now?”

You raise your head, realizing you are not lying on your couch. Technically, you were; however, you were lying on something else on the furniture with you – more like someone.

It’s then you realize that you were lying on Toji during your entire slumber, him leaning on the end of the couch, one leg spread to make room for you to sleep on him while you sit on the other. And you can guess that you had your head on his chest, snuggling up to his warm figure. He looks at you with his green eyes now darkened by the room, yet you can see their glow from the television light. And that small smile he gives you, the scar on the right side of his lip lifted upward. The familiar butterflies in your stomach flutter like before. Like old times sake…That must be embarrassing, huh?

You frantically try to get off of him, “Sorry about that, I thought—“

“No, no,” Toji places a stern hand on your back, keeping you from moving further. “You were comfortable.”

You stare at him for a few seconds until your face contours to a look, and a smile starts to creep up while you situate yourself back to your original position, pressing your face back on his chest to listen to the beats of his heart again. “I recall having this couch all to myself not too long ago, so where’d you come from?”

“Well, I wanted to watch some sports highlights, but I figured you’d kick my ass if I pulled you off and had you sleep on the floor instead.” With the click of your tongue, he chortles. You bet your ass I would. “So, I decided to have ya sleep on me while I watch TV.”

“What’s wrong with the other side of the couch? It’s quite vacant and enough for a big guy like you.”

“True,” his hand rubs circles on your back, an old habit he did when he used to have you like this. “But then I’d be lonely.”

You titter. “That’s big for someone who said he thrives on being alone.”

“I thrive being alone when I’m working.” You’re glad he can’t see your eyes roll; he’d probably grab you by the cheeks like a child. “Besides, why would I wanna be alone when I have you for myself.”

And there it is, your cheeks begin to warm up. Or was it because you’re so close to him that his heat is transferring to you? That’s probably it, yeah. Let’s change the subject…”How long was I out for? I remember the kids left around 7:30-ish.”

“Mmm, it’s going to eleven right now.”

Three and a half hours? Damn. “It’s past their bedtime.”

Toji scoffs. The abrupt motion of his chest rising is satisfying in a way that makes you even more comfortable. “You still think they’re gonna sleep with all that sweet shit they got?” He snickers some more as you shake your head.

“They know better. When you guys get home, be sure to put their candy bags on the top shelf of the closet for the morning.”

“Still traumatized from that one time?”

“Uhhh, yes??” The memory flashes to you for a quick moment, but the dread from before still haunts you. Megumi was six years old and Tsumiki seven, returning home from trick-or-treating and immediately tasting their labor from that night. However, what you didn’t expect was for them both to eat almost half their bags. Let’s just say, thanks to their sugar rushes, they didn’t drop dead until the hour hand touched two of the morning. “Unless it’s the weekend, never again.”

The way the older man chuckles is so therapeutic — it nearly makes you want to fall asleep again. “You weren’t the one chasin' Megumi all over the place tryin' to get him to sleep. Little squirt gets his speed from me.”

“Awww, poor you~” You can sense the glare as you respond in a condescending, sing-song tune. “You and him are always butting heads. Like father, like son.”

“Tch, hate that sayin’ so fuckin’ much.”

“Why? ‘Because it’s true?”

“Shut up.” The hand he used to rest his head comes down to pinch your nose. You wriggle out of his hold with giggles, but he happily keeps you grounded to him with his stronghold and a leg wrapped around to prevent yours from moving. “He only listens to you. Such a sweet lil’ baby to you, huh? Puttin’ my own son against me.”

More giggles prompt out of tiny guilt, and you bring up a hand to rub on his chest. “He’s such a bright boy now. Growing up so big and fast.”

“Miki, too. That girl is way too smart fr' me to catch up. And she’s becoming so kind and strong, crazy to think she made me play teacups when she could barely go down the stairs by herself.” Toji hums, the vibrations felt on the pads of your fingers. “Think she gets that from you.”

You shook your head. “They’re your babies. They do amazing things because they have a big guy like you to catch them if they ever fall.”

“Hmm, fair…But let’s not pretend I’m the best dad in the world. Fuck, never in my life did I think I’d be a dad, especially with two kids. I didn’t know shit back then — still! I still don’t know shit.” You don’t say anything, just listening to him voice his thoughts to you. Because he knows you’d listen – you always do. “If you weren’t there for them, I don’t think they’d be shining like this. Y’re definitely the thing that brought us up together. They look up to you so much. Ya did so well with them.”

Nodding aimlessly, his black sweatshirt grazing on your cheek. “Thank you. Same to you. Didn’t do so bad yourself, big guy.”

“Mmm.”

Nothing is said between you two after that. The only thing that makes noise is the voices coming from the television. The volume lowered, an initiative you could guess from Toji wanting you to get some rest. The silence was too awkward that it might torture some, but it was fine where it was. There was no need to change it, especially when you were comfortable in each other’s embrace.

That is, until Toji asks, “Do you miss it?” The rubs on your back go slower, his fingertips drawing a ticklish sensation.

“Of course I do. All the time.” You answer honestly, turning your head to rest your chin on him. Your eyes glimpse directly at his, giving him a tiny grin. “Why ask? I know the kids miss me being around; what about you? Miss me nagging and putting you to work all the time?”

He sneers at your comment. “Every day.”

It was such a simple answer, yet it had the power to wipe that smirk right off your face. Your eyes locked in his sight, and your heart tuning to an irregular rhythm. Oh, come on, Y/n, get a grip! “Ahem—Toji, I hope you know that I never stopped missing everything we had — I never will. Those years that we shared were probably the best I’ve had. We had happy moments, others sad, of course. But, God, do I miss it all. I miss it so much. I miss having you guys here. Miki and Gumi and—“

“Me?” Good Lord, if this man doesn’t stop looking at you with those goddamn eyes of his, such captivating orbs that say more than he lets on. Your breath hitches, and so does the hand on your back. “Hmm? Ya miss me, baby?”

Oh, for fuck’s sake. Why’d you have to call me that? And it gets worse when he places his free hand on your cheek, his thumb brushing your skin while the forefinger teases the lobe and tragus of your ear. Goddammnit…

“...Yes,” your voice was down a whisper, which could easily be mistaken with the television. But you know Toji heard you, loud and clear. “Especially you, Toji.” You said it. The words that he wanted to hear from you. They felt so forbidden to say, yet it was the truth. You avert your gaze away from him. But you knew that wouldn’t work, not right now. Toji taps your cheek with his thumb, and your eyes sheepishly return to his.

He doesn’t say anything, and that makes your heart beat at an unbearable rate. It’s all you can hear when you stare into his deep emerald eyes, the sound of it ringing your eardrums as if you could puke. Your throat running dry, so you gulp to ease the uncomfortable bob. If something could just happen to end this anxious torture, that would be great.

And then your prayers get answered: something does happen. Toji slowly brings his face closer to yours — your body goes rigid, and you instantly face away before the inevitable happens. No, I didn’t mean that!

“Aht aht, don’t do that, baby.” His hand slithers from your cheek to your chin, forcing you to face straight at him. “Lemme see you.”

“Toji, wait,” your voice travels out in a shaky breath. “We shouldn’t be doing this. We can’t cross this line anymore.”

He listens to your pleas, but his body does otherwise. Placing a gentle kiss on your forehead while the hand on your back snakes downward. “Why not?” His gruff voice dialed down to a whisper.

“Because—Mmmm…” Toji interrupts you by licking the helix of your ear. Oh, you slick bastard. “We’re supposed to be done…”

“That’s not stoppin’ me from takin’ care of my sweet thing.” Jesus Christ, you almost melted from the way he whispered that to your ear. He’s pulling out all the same old tricks, and it gets more hellish by the second as you try not to give in. “So, y're gonna let me take care of you like I always do, right, mama?”

Both his hands now rest on your ass, groping it while your hips sway as if they have a mind of their own. The leg between yours comes up slightly, making you ride on it. The heat on your cheeks has already blossomed to your ears, making it hard to think straight. Gripping his sweatshirt, your hips ride his thigh to ease the throbbing sensation that grows with every motion. Good God, you shouldn’t be doing this. You know you shouldn’t be doing this. However, it’s been so long that you felt wanted like this — wanted by him. It’s all the same – his voice, his hands, his words, his body, and the names he calls – yet here you are turning into putty.

“Haaahh, Mmmfff…Toji, please,” Toji withdraws his face from your shoulder, leaving him to examine your expression. You must look so dumb right now, with your hooded eyes and shivering lips. But, at this point, do you even care? “Please…Treat me right.”

One moment, you see his gaze narrow with a devious glint. Next, you’re taken aback when Toji slams his lips on yours, kissing and sucking your bottom lip until you give him access. With a moan, you open your mouth for him and sink deeper into the kiss. Your hands come around his neck, keeping him focused on you and you alone. Not that he would have it any other way.

His strong hands continue to knead your asscheeks while you hump and grind on his thigh. Nibbling on your lip, you whimper helplessly for him. It strokes his ego, knowing he’s making you like this, the fucking bastard. He takes in your tiny cries happily, shoving his tongue to play with yours. You give in to him, almost losing your balance riding his thigh, yet Toji’s lips never leave yours.

You break the kiss to get an imperative breath, panting loudly and sweetly for him as Toji kisses and licks your ear. The sounds make your lower region twitch. “Hnnmm, fuck…That’s my girl. So fuckin’ good fr’ me always, Y/n…” You can feel him slide a hand up to the hem of your leggings, forcing it inside for his thick fingers to brush up on the bare flesh of your butt. You gasp sharply. Him squeezing your butt has you biting down on his sweatshirt. “—Hahhh, Oh God, Toji,” With every squeeze, he inches closer to your panty-covered chasm, where you know he’d find a damp spot. Please touch me. Please, please, plea—

CLACK-CLINK!!

The two of you are frozen stiff when you hear the sound of the door opening and closing, the foyer lights turned on. “Alright~, we got you guys home. See ya later!” That was Gojo’s voice, indicating everyone was finally back from trick-or-treating. This means that Tsumiki and Megumi are about to see you on top of their father, his hand in your leggings and smacking lips with yours. Your eyes shoot wide with horror — immediately remove yourself from Toji and stand up from the couch to pull your bottoms up. You barely had the chance to peek at Toji because the kids already run to the living room to find you two.

“Y/n, Y/n, look!” The brunette was the first to greet you with her adorable pink Barbie cowgirl costume. She and her brother, dressed as Sasuke Uchiha, cheerfully showcased their pillowcases full of candy. “Look at all this candy we got!”

“Wooow, you guys really went on a haul,” you can only hope they can’t see you sweating bullets through your fake reaction. “Wh–Where’s Gojo?”

“He dropped us off here a few seconds ago and left for the party,” The raven-haired boy answered while scanning his pillowcase.

You only nod along until you frantically wipe your mouth, realizing the tiny trail of spit from the corner of your mouth. “Umm—Ahem, well then, I’m glad you two got all that candy. Now, let’s hurry up and get you guys home so you can get ready for school tomorrow!”

But the children didn’t move an inch. Actually, they looked like they were going to tell you something. You lift a brow. Oh no, they’re going to look at each other. They looked at each other and then glanced back at you. Oh, God, no. “Uhhh, Y/n, we were thinking.” Big sister Tsumiki is always the one who asks the following question. “Can we stay over?”

You inhale a massive breath, yet you do your best not to exhale a heavy sigh. “Kids, you promised to keep the overnight stays to three at max per month. This will be the fifth!”

“Yeah, but it’s dark out. Plus, it’s way past our bedtime.” The younger chimes in with a tiny pout. “We’ll be asleep by the time Dad gets us home.”

And here comes Tsumiki with the tag-team response to add on. “And that means he’ll have to make continuous trips back and forth from the car. Picking me and Megumi up, getting our bookbags, the bags full of candy, the whole thing! We already packed up our PJs just in case.”

You stood there staring at the two in astonishment. There’s no way they thoroughly planned this out. There’s just no way… And to make it worse, they were making valid arguments. You open your mouth to say something, but the two give the best puppy eyes they can. The wave of guilt hits like a train, internally cringing. You turn to Toji, who still sits on the couch, and the motherfucker only gives you a shrug. Wow, what a helpful father he is.

You groan into your hands, shaking your head while looking at the kids who wait for your verdict. “…Alright, you can stay as long as you PROMISE to put those candy bags in my bedroom closet. Deal?” The happy smiles and aggressive head shakes should answer your question. “Good, now go ahead and take your showers before you head for bed.” They rushed to the stairs by the time you finished that sentence, so enthusiastic about staying the night at your house, and you can’t help but smile hearing their footsteps run up the stairs.

With that being said, you turn to the older man again. Your brows are trenched down, but your smile is still present. “So, you legit just sat there and let those two tag-team me like that? In my own house?”

Another shrug with a dumb smirk on his handsome face. “Told you: too smart fr’ me to catch up.” You shake your head before exiting to get the kids and guest rooms ready, leaving him with the television.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

The midnight hour has finally danced its way into the darkness of the night. Halloween is finally over, and the month of October is no more. The pitter-patter sound of the rain cleanses the neighborhood of its merits and festivities that partook hours ago, ready for a new phase of the year to take over.

After having the guest room ready with sheets and sleepwear for Toji and kissing the kids goodnight, you rinse your stress off with a nice shower and put on your pajamas to get ready for bed. After you turn the lights off, you drape the comforter over your figure as your body sinks with the cozy sheets and pillowcase. Your eyes close while focusing on the curtains of your window, the only light piercing inside being the lampposts by the street.

…Well, at least that’s what’s supposed to happen. But that’s not the case because you’re not the only one lying comfortably on your mattress. Instead, Toji is here with you, in your room, on your bed, his chest to your back, and his hand roaming inside your oversized shirt. Your lips are now connected with his, sharing your erotic moans with his enticing groans, and you get a little louder as his fingers cup and play with your breast.

“Mmphh…Ahhhh, I thought I told you you’re sleeping in the guest room—Nmmff!” He tweezes your nipple with his forefinger and thumb roughly.

“And I thought you’d be smart enough to know that wasn’t gonna happen.” Toji kisses the crook of your neck, drawing near your ear for him to whisper. “Besides, look at you. Still sleepin’ with no underwear on?”

“Hmph, only when I have a man around the house.” That answer got you another rough tweak on your nip and a purposeful gnaw to your ear. You knew he’d react like that, never liking the mention of another man leaving your mouth – especially during an intimate time like this.

“That so? What man you know that can handle all this?” Toji then moves from his side to be between your legs, pulling up your shirt to fully expose your chest. And your breathe hitches while his free hand travels down your abdomen to your bottoms.

“Ahhhh, no one. Just you...” You look at him with half-lidded eyes, taking in his reaction to what you said. The salacious grin on his face becoming broader should entail that he greatly loved that retort.

He brings his face to your other unattended nipple, “Good answer, princess.” The nub of your breast enters his mouth, and the wet warmth of his tongue greets it with lapped motions and grazes from his teeth. Despite that, it doesn’t distract you from the fact your bottoms are pulled down with ease and are thrown to the bedroom floor, leaving your cunt out for him, your erotic fluids seeping and glistening from the outside lights.

Toji plays with your folds until he can stuff his pointer finger into your chasm, the insertion resulting in your body’s jolt. It’s been a long while since you had his thick digit inside you, playing and scraping the inner walls to evoke whimpers. God, it felt so good, this satisfying feeling returning to awaken your body to his touch. He interacts with your body as if he’s the only person who knows how to get you going – and it’s the truth. No one can put you in a blissful haze quicker than this man. And you’d prefer to keep it that way.

The addition of his middle finger into your leaky entrance startles you, the thick digit making its way in with such vigor that he uses both fingers to scrape the velvety texture of your walls. Your eyes are now screwed shut at the growing commotion between your thighs, and the heat within your body flourishing all around gets to your head. “—Khmm, Oh fuuck, Toji. Please, don’t stop.”

With a soft ‘pop’ noise from his lips, Toji replies to your demands. “I’m sorry, what’s my name again?” You giggle with trenched brows. Of course, how could I forget?

“Nmmph, D-Daddy, pleaseee, I’m so clo—Ahhhann!!” He puts his thumb to your clit, grinding down on it unexpectedly. “I wanna cum, pleaseee…”

“Hmmm, good girl,” he teased, laying down kisses, nibbling on the skin of your stomach and inner thighs until he arrives at your leaking slit. Your body jerks up from the bed when you feel the cold, wet muscle slowly lick on your clitoris before ravaging your folds. The sounds of his mouth on your cunt are so lewd to the ear, slurping noises from his lips with the lapping motions of his tongue claiming your come are too much for you. And when he uses his hand to swipe and pinch your clit? Oh, it’s a wrap. Your release comes out without control, biting down on your bottom lip to make sure your cries don’t leave this space for the kids to hear. Their room is on the other side down the hall; tonight isn’t the night for too many risks.

When your trembling body calms down and subsides, Toji withdraws his face from between your thighs. Your essence paints his mouth, and he wipes his chin clean while licking the remnants that coat his scarred lips. “Hmph, missed tastin’ you like that.” You open your eyes when your high finally evades you, watching your ex-husband pull down his sweats. His erection springs out and hits his stomach, your mind going rampant with thoughts as you ogle at his freed limb. Shit, it’s been so long. Will that shit even fit me again?

“Don’t think it’ll fit, baby?” Damn him, he loves teasing you. Toji then discards his black wife-beater, at long last revealing his well-built, brawny physique that has you drooling for him. He uses his hands to maneuver your legs—your knees pushed to your chest as your legs propped up on his shoulders. A position you’re all too familiar with. Your eyes don’t leave Toji’s cock as he aligns his cock to your slick-coated folds. “Take some breaths fr’ me, sweetie. Can’t take care of you when you’re all tense.”

You take up on his advice and begin taking deep breaths, reminding yourself to maintain the steady pattern as he pushes the tip of his dick between the lips of your cunt. Every inhale is where he nudges into the hole of your inner cavern, and every exhale gives you time to breathe out the pain that comes in for a split second. This carries on until the cockhead wedges itself perfectly into your vagina, along with the inches of his girth that stretches until the base kisses your lips, the tip of him kissing your cervix. Tears swell up in your eyes, taking more deep breaths to prepare yourself for what’s about to come.

“Oooh fuuuck…Heh, yeah, that’s my baby right there. Fittin’ so perfect fr’ me, mama…” He puts his weight on you, keeping your figure unmoving under his bow.

“Nmmmf, Daddyyy,” you’re forced to take in all of him, and drool trails down your lips with no hope of taking care of it. “…I’m so full, you’re too much…”

“I know, sweetie, I know.” He wipes your spit after kissing your forehead. How gentle compared to what you’re about to go through. “Gonna move now.” His thrusts start slow for the two of you to adjust to each other; the feeling of his length’s veins coming in and out of your chasm is so euphoric, and the kisses to your cervix want your body to writhe and squirm. But you’re bent into this position for a reason: forced to submit to him no matter what. So you do just that.

Yet your horny haze gets more potent once he picks up the pace, rutting into you with increased speed. Your slit, still sensitive from earlier, gets overstimulated with the constant grazes on your gummy walls and jabs to your tender cervix. It takes everything in your power not to come so early.

“—Hahhhh, Nmmph. Oh, shit, shit, shit…” Toji groans above you, the thrusts of his pelvis increase to an irregular rhythm, grinding deep into your cunt to the point of uncontrollable babbles escaping your lips. His bullying on your insides results in you gripping his length hard, causing the older man to hiss and moan at your contractions. “—Ohhhfuuuckk!! Jesus Christ, baby. Y’re gonna make me go crazy.”

As if that wasn’t already happening now that he pistons his cock into your wetness, your brain turning into mush from the onslaught of ruts to your puffy wet chasm. Tears stream down your face, and more drool follows down with more precise hits to your delicate canal. The pounding in your head makes it hard to think of anything else, the squelching noises and paps of Toji’s balls hitting your cunt making it worse.

“D-Daddyyy, I’m—Ohoooo!! Oh, Jesus, ohhhshit!” You can’t formulate a proper sentence, too engulfed with the electrifying sensations coursing through your body.

“Damn, you feel too fucking good—Hnngh!!” Toji places his forehead on yours, resting his entire weight on you while his hips have a mind of their own. “‘Bout to make me knock you up…”

Oh, good Lord. The mere thought of having a child is the last thing that should be on your mind. But in a time like this, who in their right mind would be thinking straight? “Nnnfff! Oh God, pleaseee, fill me up, Daddyy!” Green eyes narrow with trenched brows. “—Pleasepleasepleaseee!! I want you to fill me up so bad, I want it, I want—Hyaaaaa!!”

How can he deny your desperate, teary pleas when you’re urging him on like this? “Heh, you’re so fuckin’ sexy, mama.” Toji captures your lips with his, your mewls taken by him as you sink further into your pleasurable thrill.

Sporadic thrusts of his pelvis produce more raunchy noises in the joining of your sexes, his heavy balls smacking on your cunt as he drives the base of his cock straight into you. Your slit is now a puffy mess, come and slick form a soapy mess that Toji now harbors a milky ring around his girth. A few rushed, sloppy thrusts heighten your high once more, and then Toji presses his pelvis down to the hilt on one final, harsh thrust, unloading his seed into your aching folds. And your climax follows in a few seconds, the walls of your cunt fluttering on his pulsating dick as your essence soaks him. Your muffled shrieks are received by him, quivering under him until the aftershocks wash through your body.

Once you two breathe at a steady tempo and the nerves of your sweaty bodies fall still, the kiss is broken with heavy pants and a string of spit that links you two together. Toji buries his face between your neck and shoulder, licking and kissing your skin as you’re allowed time to experience your clarity.

“Hmmm…You know I’m not done yet, princess.” Toji mumbles to your ear before stationing your legs off his shoulders for them to rest.

“Yeah, I know, big guy.” You tease him with a breathless laugh, kissing him on the temple. “Always wanting more…”

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

“…So, you’re telling me you had your ex-husband spend the night? Not just the kids?”

“Yup, that’s what happened.”

This morning was different from your usual routine – well, you can’t say it’s different if you have done it before, huh? After five years of divorce, you thought you’d be so used to waking up and getting ready for work without worrying about others. However, this morning proves otherwise.

It felt natural walking into the kids’ room and lightly shaking them awake, telling them to get ready while you whip up something quick for them to eat as Toji showers (using your bathroom, by the way). Watching the kids run down the stairs and eat breakfast puts a smile on your face, reminiscing about the good old days when they were younger and teenier. It sometimes feels surreal doing the same thing for them now that they’re getting older and taller. But seeing them bicker and interact with each other in your presence never fails to warm your heart.

When Toji’s finished freshening up and loading his kids’ stuff in his truck, it’s time to bid them farewell for their departure for school. You give them final touch-ups on their hair and outfits, reminding them to be safe and not get into trouble (especially Megumi, now that the boy’s been getting into fights). And before they rush to the car, you hug them and give each a kiss on the cheek. Here is where the warm feeling inside your heart begins to deteriorate, not wanting to let them go. Yet, for their sake – and education – you release them and hope for the best.

The last to leave was Toji, who came from the kitchen to the front door with a paper plate wrapped in foil in one hand. His name is written boldly by a black Sharpie. “This fr' me?”

“No, it’s for Shiu Kong, for dealing with you all the time.” You stick your tongue out at Toji as he glares at you, not even moving out of the way while he exits through the door. “You better eat that when you get to work, you have a terrible habit of skipping lunch.”

“Whatever ya say, mom.” He pesters you with the title, knowing you’re technically not a mother anymore. Yet it only makes you smile knowing he notices your maternal side.

“Don’t forget to text me when Tsumiki’s soccer game is next week.” You watch him go down the porch stairs.

“Will do.”He whistles.

“And Toji?”

The man stops walking to turn to you, his forest green eyes fixed on you so quickly that you almost forget what you want to say. Or what you wanted to do. You place your fingers on your lips and blow a kiss with an outward gesture. It was an old habit you did whenever he left, something you can’t seem to get out of practice with. It’s embroidered in your mind at this point.

And when he catches the kiss with his free hand and places it on his chest, it makes your heart skip a beat. Toji grins, “I’ll be damned if that was fr' Shiu, too.”

You snicker with a shaken head. “Drive safe, Toji.” Closing the front door, you stand there for a while. Your smile doesn’t falter; it gets bigger as you replay the moment instead. Thinking about him, hearing him, seeing him, it all drives you crazy. And that’s a good thing…right?

“I don’t know, sounds like you still kinda care about the guy.”

“Of course I do,” So here you are, sitting in your living room enjoying the rays of the sunset decorating the space, in a video call with your best friends, Utahime and Mei Mei. You reply to the former’s comment. “Just because I don’t have the ring on my finger doesn’t mean I shouldn’t care about him. I mean, he’s the father of two lovely children.”

“Shoot, you’re better than me, then.” The dark-haired woman admits. “But you’re kinda proving my point, Y/n. Even when you don’t have the ring on, you two act like the same old couple, and it’s definitely not just for the kids’ sake. Let’s be real here.”

You try to interject, but the pale-blue-haired other, Mei Mei, intervenes, “I agree. It’s one thing if you let the children stay over, but he also wanted to spend the night. Sure, he could’ve been tired from driving all day and such. However, if you’re still seeing a man for the last five years – while legally unbound – and he says he wants to spend the night under your roof, which is rare, that should ring some bells at least.”

“I know, it did…” you nod along with what your friend is saying, throwing your head back with a heavy sigh. “But it’s not like he’s never spent the night here before, nor is he banished from stepping inside.”

“Oh? Then why is this time different from the others?”

Utahime jumps in after Mei Mei’s chirp. “Yeah, you’re telling us about all these nostalgic lovey-dovey feelings as if you’re falling in love with him all over again. What, did you two have sex or something?”

An open mouth, yet no words come out, leaving you in a predicament. You could’ve just lied or swerved the subject to something else. But you didn’t. And the two women on the screen lift their brows with hooded eyes, a look meaning a thousand words. You couldn’t even explain yourself either because a sudden knock on your door captured the attention of all three of you.

You stand up and walk towards the door, your friends still on call on the phone at hand. Opening the door, you’re almost stunned to see in front of you. Tsumiki and Megumi with nervous smiles, and their father at the car collecting the same duffles bags from last night. You’re kidding.

“Hey, kids.” The two of them gulped from not calling them by their names. You bring up the phone to face the screen to them. “Say hello to Auntie Mei Mei and Utahime.” The women on the line smile and wave at the children, who sheepishly wave back.

“Hi, aunties.” Megumi greets them, and then his eyes drift back to you. “So, Y/n—“

“What did you forget this time?” Straight to the point, no room for excuses.

“It was Miki this time! She forgot her soccer cleats.” The older sibling gawks at her younger brother for calling her out.

“Tsumiki, I know you have cleats at home.”

“I do, but these are special! You bought them for my birthday, and I’ve been wearing them to every game ever since! So, I was scared when I couldn’t find them at home.” The brunette was quick to defend her stand. “Also, Dad doesn’t feel like driving up here and then back. So…can we…”

You close your eyes and bring the phone to your face to shield your vexation. Twice in a row, the sixth time this month. You can hear the giggles of your friends from the other side of the phone, adding more fuel to the fire. You don’t look up until you hear heavy footsteps on the porch, seeing Toji holding both duffle bags with a hand and shoulder. He stares at you as you stare at him, a silent conversation on how to handle this situation. And when he shrugs with lifted brows, you realize it’s no use and release the long-awaited sigh.

“….If I see one more thing being left behind here, you guys can’t come back till December, understand?” It wasn’t anything serious, but enough for the kids to know you weren’t joking. They nod their heads in unison while you roll your eyes. “Okay, get in here.” They rushed inside with gleeful laughs, the shuffling of their backpacks following along with them. Your eyes then drift to Toji as he walks up to you. “Did you forget something here, too?”

“Yeah,” you lift a brow when he drops Megumi’s bag to the floor. Before you can register his hand on your chin, you squeak when he brings his lips to yours. It lasted for seconds, but the kiss was sweet and tender, sucking on your lip before letting go with a playful bite. “Meant to give you that when you woke up. Thanks fr' the food, mama.”

Toji picks the bag up and walks inside your home to put the bags in the rooms, leaving you standing on the porch with an astounded expression. You couldn’t appropriately calibrate your thoughts until you heard faint laughs from the phone. Then, you realize your best friends witnessed the entire scene that transpired.

Utahime, with the slyest leer, was the first to say something. “Oh yeah, he laid that pipe on you good, without a doubt.”

“Mhmm,” Mei Mei agrees with a chuckle. “And I'm guessing he’s gonna do it again tonight. Isn’t that right, Y/n?”

You end the video call with a heated face. “Sh-Shut your damn mouths!!” Again, you groan into your hands before returning inside. Thank God I still have those birth control pills...

♱ 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

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pucksandpower · 17 days

Text

Don’t Touch Her

Lando Norris x Reader

Summary: Lando will do whatever it takes to ensure your safety after the unthinkable almost happens during a night out

Warnings: spiked drink, attempted SA, descriptions of seizure, hospitalization, and the implied murder of a minor character

You sway your hips to the pulsing beat, the colorful lights of the club flashing across your skin. Lando’s hands rest lightly on your waist, guiding you to the music. You lean into him, inhaling the faint scent of his cologne mixed with the tang of sweat in the humid air.

“I’m parched,” you say, turning to face him. “Want me to grab you a drink?”

He smiles, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “I can get them, love. You keep dancing.”

You shake your head, leaning in to give him a quick peck on the lips. “I need to get off my feet for a bit anyway. Same as usual?”

“Please. I’ll be right here waiting for you.”

You make your way through the crowded dance floor, weaving around gyrating bodies and flailing limbs. The bar is packed, patrons jostling for the bartenders’ attention. You manage to wedge yourself into a tiny gap, shouting your order over the commotion.

While waiting for the drinks, you check your phone. A few missed texts from friends, asking where you are. You fire back quick responses before pocketing the device just as the bartender slides two glasses toward you.

Vodka cranberry for you, rum and coke for Lando. You pass over a few bills, waving away the change, and turn to head back to the dance floor.

You take a long sip of your drink as you walk, the bubbly sweetness refreshing after all that dancing.

Lando is easy to spot, standing out due to the size of the crowd surrounding him. He smiles when he sees you coming, his whole face lighting up. Your heart flutters at the way he looks at you, like you’re the only person in the room.

You’re halfway to him when the first wave of dizziness hits. You stumble, drinks sloshing over your hands. Sudden nausea swirls in your gut. The room starts to spin, lights blurring into a kaleidoscope.

“Hey ...” You blink hard, trying to clear the fog creeping over your thoughts. “I don’t … feel so good.”

The glasses slide from your grip, shattering on the floor. You try to take a step toward Lando and the ground rushes up to meet you. Strong hands grab your arms, keeping you from collapsing completely.

“Whoa there, looks like someone started the party a little early.” The voice is unfamiliar, masculine with a hint of mocking laughter. You try to pull away but your limbs feel like lead.

“No, I ...” You shake your head, which only makes the dizziness worse. Through your dimming vision you can see Lando pushing through the crowd, his eyes wide.

“C’mon, there’s a back door this way. Let’s get you some air.” The man starts to guide you away, arms wrapped around your shoulders. Panic shoots through you and you try again to wrench yourself free, but it’s useless.

The cold night air hits you as the door swings open. The alley swims before you, dingy bricks and overflowing dumpsters. The man keeps walking, bearing you along while your weak protests fall on deaf ears.

Fear claws at your insides. You catch a glimpse of streetlights at the other end of the alley before he steers you into the shadows halfway down.

“S-stop,” you mumble, tongue heavy in your mouth. He just chuckles, pressing you against the brick wall.

“Shh, just relax. I’ll take good care of you.” His hand squeezes your thigh, rucking up your dress. Somewhere in the recesses of your fading mind, terror shrieks at you to fight, to run, but your traitorous body refuses to respond.

As the man leans in, the alley floods with light. Heavy footsteps pound on the pavement.

“Get your hands off her!” Lando’s voice booms with more fury than you’ve ever heard from him. The man holding you whirls around just as Lando’s fist connects with his jaw. He reels back with a cry, grip loosening. Lando catches you before you can slide to the ground.

“Hey, hey, I’ve got you.” His touch is infinitely gentle compared to the bruising hold of the stranger. He strokes your hair back from your face, eyes searching yours. “Can you hear me, love?”

You try to respond but only manage a faint whimper. Lando swears under his breath. Scooping you into his arms, he carries you swiftly from the alley. You press your face to his chest, clinging to him like a lifeline as he strides toward the street. Each jostling step sends the world spinning again.

Something is wrong. Terribly wrong.

Lando lowers you onto a bench outside the club, brushing his knuckles over your cheek. “Talk to me, please. What’s happening?”

You lick your dry lips, forcing words out with monumental effort. “Dizzy … everything … blurry ...”

Lando’s face creases with worry. He pulls out his phone to dial for help, but pauses when you suddenly convulse, muscles seizing. Your back arches, head slamming against the hard bench.

“Shit! Hold on, I’ve got you.” Lando slides his hand under your head, cradling it gently as the seizure wracks your body. Tears stream down his face as he murmurs soothing words, helpless to do anything but wait it out.

After endless moments, the convulsions stop. You go limp, gasping raggedly. The world fades in and out of focus, Lando’s anguished face floating above you.

“Please, baby, stay with me,” he begs, taking your hand and bringing it to his lips. “The ambulance will be here any second.”

You try to respond but darkness crowds the edges of your vision. The last thing you see before slipping into unconsciousness is Lando bent over you, shoulders shaking with sobs as he clutches your motionless hand.

***

Beeping.

Hushed voices.

The astringent scent of disinfectant.

You drift somewhere between waking and oblivion, grasping at fractured memories.

Lando’s face, streaked with tears.

Dancing bodies.

Pulsing lights.

The weight of unwanted hands, dragging you into the shadows.

With a sharp inhale, your eyes fly open. You’re in a hospital room, IV line taped to the back of your hand. Pale morning light filters through the blinds. The beeping comes from a monitor tracking your heartbeat.

“Hey.” Lando sits in a chair beside the bed, leaning forward when he sees you’re awake. His eyes are rimmed with red, hair disheveled. “How are you feeling?”

You try to speak but your throat is painfully dry. Lando grabs a cup of water, angling the straw so you can sip. The cool liquid soothes like a balm, washing away the cottony feeling in your mouth.

“What … what happened?” You rasp out finally.

Lando’s expression turns grim. “Someone drugged you at the club. Probably targeting an easy robbery, but ...” His jaw clenches, hands balling into fists. “If I had been even a few seconds later, he would have ...”

Unable to finish the thought, Lando buries his face in his hands. His shoulders tremble. Your heart aches, and you reach out to comb gentle fingers through his hair.

“But you weren’t,” you say softly. “You saved me.”

He looks up, eyes shining wetly. “I never should have let you out of my sight. If I lost you ...” His breath hitches, raw anguish written across his face.

“Hey, no.” You catch his hand, squeezing firmly. “This wasn’t your fault. You found me in time. That’s all that matters.”

Fresh tears spill down Lando’s cheeks. He brings your entwined hands to his lips, pressing a trembling kiss to your knuckles.

“I was so scared,” he chokes out. “Seeing you like that, helpless, shaking ...” He clenches his jaw, looking away. “And not being able to do anything. Just having to watch ...”

He breaks off with a shuddering breath. You tug gently on his hand, urging him up from the chair. He perches on the edge of the bed, enveloping you in his tender arms. You cling to each other, tears mingling as the enormity of what almost happened sinks in.

After long moments, Lando pulls back to cup your face in both hands. He searches your eyes, still flooded with relief and lingering fear.

“I could have lost you,” he repeats in a shattered whisper.

You cover his hands with your own. “But you didn’t. I’m right here. With you.”

His breath leaves him a rush, the frightened tension easing from his frame. Leaning in, he rests his forehead against yours. The beeping monitor and distant hospital noises fade away, leaving just the two of you suspended in this quiet intimacy.

When Lando finally lifts his head, the fire in his eyes makes your heart stutter.

“I love you,” he says, low and fervent.

You meet Lando’s intense gaze, equally overcome by emotion.

“I love you too,” you breathe.

He cradles your face again, thumbs sweeping feather-light over your cheeks. Slowly, he leans in and presses his lips to yours in a kiss that steals your breath. It’s soft yet saturates you with his passion, fear, relief — every shade of the feelings coursing between you in this moment. You sink into it, hands coming up to twist in his rumpled shirt, keeping him close.

When he pulls back, you’re both a little breathless. Lando smooths your hair, regret pinching his features.

“I should let you rest. The doctor said you’ll probably feel weak and foggy for a few days.”

You give a small shrug. “I don’t feel that bad right now. Just … stay with me?”

He smiles softly. “Of course, love.”

Settling next to you on top of the sheets, he loops an arm around your shoulders. You nestle against him, comforted by his familiar warmth and scent. For a long moment, you simply savor being wrapped in this bubble of solace.

“Do they know who did it yet?” You finally ask, unable to quell your lingering unease about the attack.

Lando shakes his head. “The police looked at security footage but the guy’s face wasn’t visible. They’re still investigating.”

You nod, chewing your lip. Lando tilts your chin up to meet his eyes.

“I won’t let him get away with this,” he says, quiet but fierce. “I’ll do whatever it takes to find him and make sure he never hurts anyone again.”

There’s cold fury underlying his tone that you’ve never heard from him before. It reminds you viscerally of that brief glimpse in the alley — Lando transformed in the heat of protective rage.

But now the fire in his eyes is fanned and smoldering. A determination that won’t relent.

He tightens his arm around you, pressing his lips to your hair. You settle against his chest again, comforted by the steady thump of his heartbeat.

***

A few days later, you’re curled up on the couch with Lando, a movie playing quietly in the background. You’re mostly zoning out, still feeling residual exhaustion. Lando plays idly with your hair, a comforting sensation.

When your phone buzzes with an alert, you grab it lazily, expecting a text from a friend. Instead, a news headline makes you bolt upright.

Lando notices your change in demeanor.

“What is it, love?”

“That man, the one from the club … he was found dead. I would recognize his face anywhere.”

You continue to scan the article. “Doesn’t specify much, just that he was found in an abandoned building across town. Ruled a homicide but no suspects or motive yet.”

You wordlessly tilt the phone screen for him to see. He looks at it blankly, face impassive.

“Oh. Well, perhaps some justice has been served after all.”

You narrow your eyes at his mild tone. “Did you ...”

“Did I what?”

“Have something to do with this?”

Lando presses a hand to his chest, feigning offense. “Me? Now why would you think that?”

“Lando.” You level him with a knowing look. “Did you?”

He meets your gaze steadily for a moment before sighing. “I told you I’d make sure he never hurt anyone again. A man like that doesn’t deserve to keep stealing breaths.”

You absorb this, unsure how to feel. “So you ...”

“I didn’t personally do anything,” Lando hedges. “But I have … connections. People who know people who can handle things quietly.”

You bite your lip. “You had him killed.”

Lando takes your hands in his. “Hey. Look at me. That bastard drugged you, dragged you into an alley. He would have ...” His jaw flexes. “I did what needed to be done to keep you and others safe.”

“I just ...” You wrestle with your conflicted emotions. “I don’t know how I feel about you essentially ordering a hit.”

He drags a hand over his mouth. When he speaks, his voice is low and controlled. “All that matters is he can’t hurt you or anyone else now. Try to remember what he did to you — how you felt. Helpless. Frightened. I wasn’t about to let him continue terrorizing women.”

You take a shaky breath. “No, you’re right. It’s just a lot to wrap my head around.”

Lando caresses your cheek. “You have the biggest, kindest heart of anyone I know. But some people are simply too dangerous to be allowed to go on hurting people. I don’t take this lightly, but there are times when permanent solutions are necessary. Do you understand?”

Up close, you can see the storm of emotions he’s battling to contain. Anger, satisfaction, hints of doubt and guilt. You cup his face.

“Thank you,” you whisper. “For protecting me, even if it meant ...”

Lando closes his eyes, leaning into your touch. “I would do anything for you. Anything to keep you safe.” His thumb strokes along your jaw. “You never have to worry. You’ll always be safe with me. I’ll do whatever it takes to protect you, no matter what.”

His voice rings with quiet conviction. You cover his hand with your own, meeting his solemn gaze. In this moment, you truly comprehend the depths he’s willing to go for you.

“I know you will,” you whisper. “Thank you. For everything you’ve done for me.”

Lando searches your face, shoulders losing their rigid tension when he finds only acceptance and gratitude shining back at him.

“I would be lost without you,” he murmurs.

You lean in, kissing him softly. “You’ll never have to find out.”

Drawing back, you offer a tiny smirk. “And clearly, I should never get on your bad side.”

Lando huffs a surprised laugh. The lingering shadows in his eyes fade as he pulls you close. You sink into his embrace, heartbeat steadying against his.

Whatever lengths Lando went to in order to protect you, to remove the threat hanging over your regained sense of safety, you know you’ll forever be thankful for this devoted, fierce, and tender-hearted man you love.

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arieslost · 2 months

Text

fireproofs | ln4

summary: lando norris is hot and the 2024 fireproofs drive you crazy.

word count: 756

warnings: suggestive comments

masterlist — join my tag list here!

you’ve been grateful to mclaren for many things over the years, but aside from a fast car, this has to be the best gift they’ve bestowed upon you.

you don’t think it’s an exaggeration when you say that your jaw unhinged the first time you saw lando wearing the new black fireproofs that mclaren has him and oscar in for the 2024 season. he’d sent you pictures, along with a text saying, “what do you think? 👀”

you’d responded with “yeah, not bad” and subsequently spent the next half hour screaming into your pillow. you were able to save face over text, but now that testing is here, you’re a lost cause.

you’d seen lando in black fireproofs before, but something about this year is different. something about him is different. he’s more confident, more determined, and he somehow managed to fill out even more during winter break.

lando had felt bad for mclaren’s car launch sabotaging your valentine’s day, so while you were in the middle of insisting that it wasn’t a big deal, he was booking you a plane ticket to join him in bahrain for the grand prix and testing the week before.

so now, you’re twiddling your thumbs as you sit in your boyfriend’s driver room, both anxious to see him before his testing session begins and hoping he’ll be occupied on the pit wall for just a little longer so you can figure out how to keep your composure once he changes into his race suit.

“you’re still here?” it comes out like half an exclamation and half a question as lando slips into the room.

“you haven’t even gone out on the track, of course i’m still here,” you giggle when he pulls you into his arms and starts pressing kisses all over your face. “i can’t wait to see you put the car through its paces. oscar looked pretty good out there.”

“i’d rather put you through your paces,” he mumbles in your ear, and you smack his shoulder.

“maybe later, if you’re not too tired.”

“i’m never too tired for you.” he winks and kisses your nose before turning to change.

you have no shame in ogling his ass out of the corner of your eye as he does so, but for the most part you’re looking at updates from the first session on your phone until he sits down next to you to put his shoes on.

those damn fireproofs.

they hug his body a little too nicely. the muscles in his chest, back, and arms are perfectly defined courtesy of the tight material. you can’t even think about his shoulder to waist ratio without feeling a little dizzy with desire.

“you’re drooling,” he teases as he stands back up, the both of you knowing damn well that he loves it when you stare at him.

“i can’t help it, you’re too hot.” you’ve never had a problem with telling him just how fine he is, especially because your praise always manages to make him blush and that just makes him impossibly more attractive.

“how am i supposed to let you leave this room?” you complain, wrapping your arms around his torso.

he buries his red face in your shoulder. “the sooner i leave, the sooner i come back and show you a good time.”

“i thought you were taking me out to dinner.”

“that’s what i was talking about,” his tone is dripping in faux innocence, and you know he’s messing with you when you feel him kiss your neck. “good to know where your priorities lie, though.”

you open your mouth to patronize him, but you’re cut off when he squeezes your hips, causing you to yelp. “you are impossible.”

“hmm, good thing you love me so much then.” you can hear his smile as he speaks, and you run your hands across his back, feeling every ridge of muscle through the material of the fireproofs.

your phone starts buzzing in your pocket— the alarm you’d set to remind yourself of when he needed to get in the car. “alright,” you reluctantly separate yourself from him, taking one last lingering look at his figure before he pulls the other half of his race suit on. “i’ll stay for an hour or two and meet you back at the hotel, okay?”

“what dress are you wearing tonight?” he asks as he holds the door open for you.

“the papaya one,” you smirk, and he groans, dragging a hand through his hair.

“you’re gonna kill me, baby.”

note: i wrote most of this at 2 am in a purely feral state and did the bare minimum in editing because i’m drowning in schoolwork so apologies if it’s a bit rough!! mclaren posted a 10 second video of lando and oscar walking around and that was all it took.

lowercase is intentional because i wrote entirely on mobile!

requests are OPEN, and my inbox is always open for comments, criticism, and conversation! feel free to pop in!

reblogs are always appreciated <33

beautiful dividers by @/saradika !

tags (i’m sorry if i couldn’t tag you!): @venusacrossthestars @67-angelofthelordme-67 @emails-i-can-send @emmma232 @lieswithoutfairytales @valisjustvaleria @bwormie @meribfox @xfuckoffx @rai-scutum @clara760-blog @reptaysgf @harryismysworld @caz-93 @positiveaspirations @satanfinalgirl @ln4lova @crazymofo-96 @x-d1vine @anedpev

#blurb #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #lando norris fluff #lando norris imagine #formula one x reader #formula one imagine #lando norris #lando norris fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #ln4 fluff #ln4 imagine #ln4 fic #ln4 x reader #formula one

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kombuuuu · 11 months

Note

hii i really enjoyed ur miles 42 fic, was wondering if u could write something about reader and miles meeting for the first time? who was interested first🤭?

For the Soul (and the Heart)

Miles!42 x Fem!Reader

“I’ll be here. So pretty fun, i’d say”. “Guess you’re right, Chiquita.”

AHHH meet cute x simpy miles we LOVE

Miles getting comfy w reader and reader getting progressively more combative the more time they spend together bc they luvvvvvvv each other? perfection

please don’t read if you get uncomfy with suggestive content, nothing too bad but still suggestive!

The morning was still. An odd occurrence for a Saturday. The winter chill had settled the night prior and seeped into ever cracked windowsill.

Streets coating in a thin layer of snow and trees dusted with the same. And acknowledging this freezing weather, obviously you decided to go for a walk. Snow crunched under your feet as you followed street signs, the only thing telling you where you were going was which street looked prettier.

Eventually you stopped, hugging your scarf closer to your nose and looking for a stall or shop that caught your eye.

Eventually it did, a quaint cafe stationed between two clothing stores, relatively small and pretty empty. The outside was decorated with white Lilly-of-the-Valley flowers, flower beds filled with the pretty things. Contrasting to the deep Mahogany of the wooden shop. Which looking into the wide window, seemed relatively the same. Deep furniture with white accents and a soft yellow light dancing along shiny hardwood floors.

Swirling cursive words cut into the wooden headboard swinging from a chain outside the door. “Morales Coffee.”

There looked to be seven or eight people in there currently, for how inconspicuous it tried to look, the amount of patrons at such an odd time (10:42 AM, not morning but not afternoon either.), You’d assume that coffee has to be amazing.

The door bell chimed sweetly at your entry, Barista turning to greet you.

The sweet woman gleamed over at you for a moment, turning back to her current customer while he pulled out his wallet. You lined up, looking at the pastries lining the glass displays. The ones catching your eye a Raspberry Danish and a cute baby blue Lunch-Box cake.

The man had moved away, leaving it your turn to order. The woman smiled at you and for once, approaching someone in costumer service didn’t feel as scary as it should’ve.

“Hi, What can I get for you today?” The curly haired woman had a twang of an accent curving her words. And a motherly vibe about her.

“Hey,” You smiled back at her “,Could I get a regular Mocha—.” You paused to let her punch it in. “.—A raspberry Danish and your blue cake.”

You pointed vaguely towards where the blue cake would be to her side of the display. “Yes, of course! That’ll be $18.40, thank you.”

Whilst you pulled out your purse to pay and she began to retrieve the items. She spoke up again. “Someone’s birthday?”

You laughed, not expecting her to speak so suddenly.

“Oh, no!” A chuckle left your lungs “Just want some cake recently. Saw your shop and its cakes. Thought may as well get it while i’m here.”

She laughed along with you, snorting a little as she boxed the small cake in the cardboard lunchbox. “Seems reasonable.”

“Thank you.”

She grabbed your danish and placed it on the counter, putting the cake in a bag and handing it to you.

“Thank you, again.”

“No worries, your mocha will be out shortly!” The bouncy lady turned around, going close to the back of the counter and opened a door you hadn’t realised was there, talking into it.

“Bebé, hay una chica linda ahí afuera que quiere un Mocha. Ve a hacerlo para ella. Y no la riegues.”

"Baby, there's a cute girl out there who wants a Mocha. Go do it for her. And don't mess it up."

Miles glanced up in confusion.

“¿Pero porqué me dices a mi?”

“Why me?”

“Pues es linda, y parece de tu edad.”

“She’s pretty, and around your age.”

“Ma, porfavor.”

“Ma, please.”

“Go.”

“Fine, fine.” He raised his hands in defeat and Rio kissed his cheek on the way out.

You found a seat with a cute view of the street outside and waited patiently for your coffee, people watching to pass time.

There was always a fear of crime in your neighbourhood. The lack of supposed ‘good guys’ coupled with the city being run down by anyone who wanted to escape trouble. Once news broke out of the first robbery in Brooklyn, where no one was caught. It was immediately put on the radar for any criminal looking to live somewhere safe.

The Prowler had been changing that. Little by little the Panther-esc.. Anti-Villain was scraping through the streets of Brooklyn and letting his blood stained claws drag over those in his way.

People feared him, the violence he brought with him.

You thought he was the closest thing to a hero you were getting, so who’s got room to complain?

If he’s not going to do the dirty work, who will?

The chatter of other people in the cafe had gotten slightly louder, four more people walking in while you sat.

“Miles, la chica linda de ahí.”

“Miles, That sweet girl over there.”

“Sí mamá, ya sé.”

“Yeah mama, I know.”

The smooth baritones accent of a boy around your age caught your attention. The way his letters curled giving you a rush of something down your spine. You looked up when you heard feet approaching, seeing probably the most ridiculously handsome man you have ever met bring you your coffee.

The way his jawline sharpened at a point, braids lying on his shoulders just below it. His lips that seemed awfully soft for someone who probably doesn’t even know what chapstick is. Lashes fluttering prettily over his high genes cheekbones, accenting his golden eyes. Jesus christ he’s pretty. His lips curled into a smirk at your face, your doe’d eyes gleaming up at him. He had some sharp canines.

“‘S one’s yours, Miss.” He placed the steaming mug on your table and you smiled. “Thank you!”

“No worries, Hermosa.” He looked at you a moment longer before the sweet lady called him back to make another order.

“Coming, Momma.” He called back to her, turning back to you for a second time and adding.

“I’m Miles, by the way.”

“Miles.. that’s a cute name.”

His lips upturned again at the compliment.

You gave him your name, which he hummed at, repeating it and rolling it around his tongue. His accent was gorgeous.

“Hope to see you ‘round, [Name].”

You choked out a pathetic affirmation, “Mhmma.— Yeah, yep.”

He laughed lightly and dragged his fingers along the table as he left.

Like claws.

—

Two days later you were back. It was some of the best coffee you’d ever had. And the desserts were the same, most of the cake still sitting boxed in the fridge.

Also there was an added bonus, being the coffee house owner, and her son.

The boy was interesting enough to keep your attention, sweet to you but held a sort of curiosity about him. Like he was hiding something but felt no shame in doing it, that it was righteously excused.

And to be real, you were dying to hear his voice again. Two days and all that had been playing in your head was the way he’d said your name, let the word travel down to his lungs and breathed life into it. A longing into it.

Miles was about the same, probably worse.

You saying his name was cute was probably his new lifeline. The way you had said it so innocently, sweetly to the likes of him. A twisted, wretched man. You had him swooning faster than he deemed safe, his body was going into overdrive. He had watched you while in their cafe, having never met someone so.. untainted by the world. Someone so sweet who carried nothing but a childlike innocence in their curios nature. Nothing done out of bad faith or in vain. You were nothing like him, he adored that.

So when you came wandering back into his Mommas cafe, he hoped to every universe it would be something you didn’t stop doing.

“Ah! Miss, You’re back!” His Ma greeted her, watching as the girl told Rio her name, and his Mom in return.

You guys chatted idly for a moment, your expressions clear as day. He could read you like a grown man could read a picture book, so easy it would be insulting to present him with it, if the content wasn’t you. The brightness and easy nature of you was something refreshing, he would say his Momma was easy-going, but times had been hard lately and his family needed a cheering up. You seemed like the perfect candidate.

Sweet, bubbly and looking at him right now- Oh. He waved at you, shivering at the eye contact and watching as you smiled at him and waved back, hands shaking. He likes how nervous he makes you.

You sniffled a little from the cold, dripping your hand as his Mom room your attention again. She handed you a cinnamon scroll and you paid quickly, dropping twenty bucks in the tip jar and quickly finding your way back to your seat.

“Miles! Un Mocha regular porfavor.”“Miles, regular Mocha please.”

He nodded to his mom, like he hadn’t remembered from last time. Like he hasn’t watched as you enjoyed something he made you.

—

“Bienvenida de nuevo, Chiquita.”“Welcome back, Chiquita.”

Sitting in the same spot as last time, staring at the idling passer-by’s, the light of a Winter morning danced off the snowy ground and highlighted your face, leaving a soft glow in your eyes.

You turned to him, paying him your whole mind.

“Thank you, Miles.” He placed your coffee in front of you, slightly leaning over you. He raised his eyebrows and hummed. You inhaled quickly, breath caught in your throat. Now realising the proximity between the two of you. Not only that, but there was a sweet smell that followed him around, coffee and cinnamon. How fitting.

His voice had gone deeper, smoother.

“I’m glad to see you back here—,” He leaned back again, hand dragging the same way it had two days prior. Your slow blink and parted lips made a deep rooted part of him begin to blossom once more.

He wanted to protect you the way he knew no one else could, wanted to lay his Soul down for you. Let you trace the veins imbedded in his skin with your teeth and take as much from him as you could. Run him dry, let him owe you his life so he can die protecting yours.

The speed his infatuation was growing probably wasn’t healthy.

“Really?” Your sweet, breathless inquiry silenced that though.

“Of course, Mami.”

“I—,” You paused, picking at you fingernails for a moment “,—I like it here, a lot.”

You leaned a little forward in your seat. Pressing your forearms against the wooden tabletop and leaning on them. He watched your back drop into a small arch, and for his own health, decided to ignore it. “‘S very cozy.” You glanced towards the window again. Watching another lad and her dog pass. He watched you.

“Mm, it is.”

“And you’re here.”

He sucked in a breath, fingers twitching.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Your gaze flickered to him once more and he held it.

He let his hand drift to your shoulder, rubbing it slowly while he peeled himself away from the table.

“I gotta go, Mami, but enjoy your time.”

“You too, Miles.”

“I’ll be working,” He smiled at you, a small thing.

“I’ll be here. So pretty fun, I’d say.”

He hummed.

“Guess you’re right, Chiquita.”

—

It had been around four Months since Miles had met you. And he was in over his damn head, not that he wasn’t at your first meeting. But progressively, over time, he’d fallen deeper and deeper for you.

Everything you did had him in a chokehold. The way you were so sweet with his Mom, or how even uncle Aaron liked you when he’d stopped by the cafe.

How you offered to help around with no pay, generosity basically leaking from your heart. When you would come over just to see him because you “missed his voice”.

Or would sit in his room and wait for him. If he ever came home late, injured from things you had no business knowing, you wouldn’t ask a thing. You stayed quiet, and patched him up. Let him rest his head on your collarbone while you softly rubbed his shoulders. Trying to lighten the weight of the world off of them.

Every little thing.

He was done pretending like it didn’t affect him. He could barely go a single day without you on his mind constantly, as if.

He knew you felt the same.

Still just as readable as your first meeting. He knew the frequent outings between the two of you were more than just friendly meet-ups to you. To him.

And when your gazes would catch one another, he’d try and tell you. Express without so much as a word how you were the only person he could do this with. The only one he felt comfortable to walk down the street with, and let you chat his ear off about any new movies you’d seen, books you’d have read.

He would let you sleep in his bed, bring little things into his room and give the bland walls life.

You had made a home in him. Cracked chips in his walls on by one until you’d found a single loose stone and happily let everything he’d built up fall just for you.

—

Miles had texted you around mid-day that he’d wanted to see you, in which you’d giggled at your phone dreamily.

Laying on your bed with your stomach down, kicking your legs like a girl gone stupid.

It hadn’t even been much to fret over, just a simple:

Can you come over later?

He had phrased it rather questioningly, but for no good reason. He’d known full well the moment he even insinuated you being with him, you’d jump at the chance.

And you did, swiftly replying;

okayyyy !!

I’ll pick you up at 7.

six…?

7, [Name].

>:(

Don’t be childish.

i’m nvr childish, see u at 6 C:

You got up, threw your phone somewhere on the bed and checked your, admittedly already-packed, overnight bag. Making sure nothing was missing before putting it at your door.

Your phone pinged again.

See you at six.

You smiled.

You spent the rest of that afternoon anxiously waiting for him to pick you up.

—

He showed up at your door five minutes late, greeting you at the door with a soft apology about the tardiness.

“Sorry, Mami. Took a wrong turn.”

“Don’t apologise, Miles.”

You smiled at him, stars in your eyes. He looked away for a second, a bit guilty for lying to you, but he feels it’s worth it.

“Grab your bag, ma. Let’s go.”

You hummed an affirmation, rushing to your room to grab the pink duffel bag.

You grabbed your phone off your night stand and did a double check for everything.

You walked out again, closing the door behind you. Miles was leant up against your doorframe. Forearm pressed on the wood and his torso stretched. A small sliver of his skin had peeked from under the fabric, you thanked the warming weather. Quickly averting your gaze, you noticed him watching your stare in intent, a curious smile playing at the corner of his lips.

“You good, Chiquita?”

“Uhuh—, yep. Fine.”

“Mmhm.”

You huffed out, pouting and pressing your palm to his chest, his very toned chest, and pushed back lightly.

“Get outta my way, lame-o, I gotta lock the door.”

He resisted for a moment longer, gazing down at you in humour. He trailed his hand up your arm slyly and pried your hand off his chest by sliding his thumb up from under your wrist onto your palm. Slowly pulling you off him.

“Maybe ask politely.”

You gave him an unimpressed stare and flipped him off.

“Miles.”

“[Name].”

“Oh my god.”

“It’s just a ‘please’.”

“..-Please, get the fuck outta my way.”

“Of course, Hermosa.” He snorted as he did.

You turned around, Miles still close to you in the cramped hallway, and locked your door.

You turned around, noticing his eyes glance up from where they were before and shot him a questioning look. He turned around and led you through you hallway, dismissing the look.

—

He opened the steel door to the cafe. The scenery of a rooftop garden with the same Lilly-of-the-Valley flowers up here as there were out front of the store.

Shrubbery lined the rooftop edge and the string lights hung from the veranda created an atmosphere that seemed almost cinematic.

“Jesus, Miles. This is beautiful.”

“Mm, thought you’d like it.”

“I do, so much.”

You stated in awe at the mural painted on a buildings wall behind the door. A man who stroke a resemblance to Miles painted surrounded by colours of any.

The moonlight basked against the neon colours, accenting the man’s features.

“My dad.”

Your gaze snapped up to him beside you, brows furrowing in a frown.

“I’m sorry.”

“‘S cool. Nothin’ you coulda known, Ma.”

He sighed at the image of his father, wishing him well rest.

Turning to you, he wasn’t surprised to see the greif in your eyes. He was, though, surprised at the lack of pity.

He was so used to having his far family whisper behind his back at how his soul had died with his fathers. How the light in his eyes had gone missing the day his hand had been forced, unable to get to his dad in time.

There was no escaping his death.

So to feel the understanding coming from you—. The confidence in your sorry but knowledge that pity would do no one any good, it was refreshing. Everything about you was.

He turned away from your watchful eyes, the intensity being unusual for him.

“Come sit, vida mía.”

You followed him dutifully, loyally. Like you had since the last Winter. Like you would continue for the next to come.

A set of pillows had been placed in the middle of the veranda. White wood covered in lively vines and the aforementioned string lights.

There was a layout of his pastries (which you had learned he was the baker of) laid out on a cotton blanket.

You sat on one of the pillows, legs crossed. Miles following short after.

“Oooh,” You begun to tease him “,This a romantic dinner date?” The tone of your voice was in jest, but when he had failed to answer— Your heart rate sped up and your face went hot to the touch.

“Miles? Y’know I— I was just jokin’—“ “If you want it to be.”

You stood stupidly for a moment, not quite reeling in his words like any other person would.

“Wh—.”

It was his turn for unsurity now, eyes dancing nervously between you and the skyline.

“No pressure, though. Just think it’d be nice.”

“It would.”

He refocused on you again, finding you already watching him owlishly. “Yeah?”

“Mm, we could—,”

He anxiously started picking at the blanket. Who knew someone usually so calm could be this nervous asking out the most harmless girl he knew.

“Try. We could try that, together.” You mumbled a bit, seemingly playing it off. “If you want, or something..”

“I do.” He gained some leg to stand on, finding it easier and easier as you spoke, your nerves somehow calming his own.

“I’ve wanted that for a while.”

“Oh good, cause—“ You placed your hand in your lap, cracking your knuckles. “—Me too, so. That’s good.”

He grinned at your awkwardness, knowing your lack of experience in the relationship aspect of life, this mutual agreement, instead of one asking the other out, probably hasn’t been an experience of yours yet. He liked he was the first.

“Don’t get all shy on me now.”

You puffed at him, punching his arm lightly.

“I’m never shy, that’s for dumb stupid lame people. And I am none of those.” “Oh, sure.”

“Wh— Sure?! Which one are you ‘sure’-ing? Dumb, stupid or lame?!”

“Uhuh.”

“Miles!”

“Keep saying my name like that, mami.”

“Oh my goodness!”

—

And when you both finally got into his bed, you’d slept tangled together like you had dozens of times before. But this time, Miles would grab your waist and pull you closer. Settle his face in your neck and trace his nose down the length of your shoulder, peppering a kiss on every inch of skin he could find, and you’d both finally felt sure.

Maybe people were right, maybe Miles’s soul had died with his father.

But meeting you, something new, something rejuvenating—.

It left him with a light he could search for, a new soul. A whisp of a being you’d taken from your own heart and placed in his. It left him breathless with life.

—

YIPEEE!!!!! another one 🗣️‼️

thank you to my translation helpers (bbgs) @kissmxcheek and @millyswife

(oh, wrong Miles! oops! 🤗⬇️)

#across the spiderverse #earth 42 miles morales #miles morales #miles morales x reader #miles x reader #across the spider verse spoilers #earth 42 #earth 42 miles morales x reader

6K notes · View notes

dollfacefantasy · 3 months

Note

would you write a threesome w leon and chris… because… like maybe leon is your (older,,, like death island) boyfriend and he introduces you to his friend chris!! and idk you three end up having a threesome (consensual)… and you’re embarrassed because. you’ve never done this before n you’re all clingy with leon (maybe daddy kink??) n he’s like comforting you as he and chris fuck you at the same time ?!?!?

pairing: leon kennedy x fem!reader x chris redfield

summary: your boyfriend leon wants you to get a little more comfortable with his friend chris.

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, double penetration, oral (f receiving), fingering, daddy kink, size kink, age gap, dacryphilia

word count: 6.6k

a/n: thank you anon for sending this idea, it's right up my alley fr. also thank you for sending it again after i fumbled the bag the first time🤭🫶. the next threesome fic will be coming soon, i just ended up having more inspo for this one lol. hope you guys like it. reblogs and comments are super appreciated <3

tags: @sleepyluxe @kaitkatme @tosuckmyweenis @pupthepokemonenthusiast @bizzarethirst @death-paint @petitecolibri @iron-toxinz @wildest-dreams-at-midnight @nexysworld @explorevenus @luniaxi

“I’m just saying I think you both would really like it if you gave it a try,” you say, a bright smile on your face as you walk up the path to your and Leon’s shared place. Him and his friend trail behind you with equally pleased looks, the friend in question being Chris Redfield.

“No way. I did try it, and it was boring. Slow and drawn out. Also, it’s so unrealistic,” Chris says.

“Booooo. It’s not even slow. Stuff happens in like every single episode, at least in the early seasons,” you argue in an attempt to convince the pair to watch one of your favorite shows, “I just think there’s a lot you guys would like about it if you weren’t so impatient.”

“Babe, it’s got like, what? Over five seasons? I don’t have that kind of time,” your boyfriend replies.

You playfully roll your eyes and unlock the front door, stepping inside followed by the two men you were with. “Whatever. I’ll be right back. I’m gonna go change cause this skirt is like super itchy,” you tell them.

Before you can walk away, you feel a familiar palm swat your ass. “It’s like super cute though, shows off those pretty legs,” Leon teases, his tone affectionately mocking.

You whip around to shoot him a glare, face hot with a mixture of emotions, mainly embarrassment with a pinch of arousal.

“Leon,” you whisper, giving him a look that says not in front of Chris.

He simply chuckles at your quiet protest and shakes his head with amusement, ruffling your hair and planting a kiss on your forehead before sending you off. You catch Chris’s gaze as you turn to leave. To your surprise, he isn’t rolling his eyes or visibly wishing for the two of you to get a room. He’s smiling. His expression is different from the one you were used to seeing on Leon, but it still held the same patronizing adoration that soaked your panties in seconds.

Brushing it off as your imagination, you scamper down the hall to the bedroom. You hum to yourself as you drop your skirt and kick it into the laundry. Rifling through your drawers to find something more comfortable to wear, your hands search through some different clothes before settling on a pair of loose pink shorts. After pulling the soft garment over your legs, you look in the mirror and then decide to slip your bra off too.

Sure, some people would frown on that move, but you were in your place and it’s not like Chris is a total stranger. He was one of your boyfriends closest friends. You’d hung out with him and Leon together multiple times, and from what you gathered, he was pretty cool. It’s not like the two of you were best friends yourself. Like your boyfriend, he was quite a bit older than you. But just as you bridged that gap with Leon, so far it seemed like you managed to bridge it with him too. To say the least, he didn’t strike you as the type to have an episode over your nipples peeking through your shirt.

Unbeknownst to you however, while your thoughts lingered on the men down the hall, their conversation centered around you as well. They had taken to the couch, sitting close to each side and leaving a space for you in the middle.

“She’s a cute little thing,” Chris chuckles, watching the hallway you had gone down.

“Mhm,” Leon confirms simply. He was scrolling through the tv, trying to find that show you’d been talking about.

His friend looks over at him. “You sure she’ll wanna do this?” he asks with some uncertainty in his voice, “She doesn’t seem like the kind of girl who’s had a whole lot of experience with this type of thing.”

“Trust me, she’ll be into it. I can’t even tell you how wet she gets just from talking about shit like this,” he reassures, “You just gotta let me ease her into it.”

Chris opens his mouth to respond, but he cuts himself short once he hears your footsteps approaching. You bound back into the room. Your eyes catch on the way they’re sitting, closer than you would expect. They still left room for you though, so what does it matter, right?

You hop onto the couch and tuck yourself against your boyfriend’s side, gently kissing his jaw as you get comfortable and curl up on the cushion. He smiles down at you and returns the affection. He pulls you closer, but your feet are still brushing Chris’s thigh with how close he is.

“We were thinking we could watch an episode of that show you were talking about, see if we really would like it,” Leon tells you.

“Really?” you ask, a little surprised, “We don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

“No, it’s fine, baby. Chris doesn’t feel like driving home just yet, and you know if you’re happy, I’m happy,” he says.

You look over at Chris who nods. With that, Leon puts on the show. The familiar intro music plays and you watch the screen as a scene that you’d seen a million times plays out. You sink into his side, settling against his warm body. The episode plays, and you point out little things you like or remember something specific about. Both men nod and chuckle at your excited remarks.

Even though the couch and cuddling are comfy, your legs start getting a bit cramped from being curled up for an extended amount of time. You squirm around a bit, wanting to just stretch out. Chris prevented you from doing that as his bulky frame occupied the space your legs could be.

Leon smirks as he notices your restlessness. He shifts around a bit himself and leans back further into the couch. His feet rise up and land on the coffee table a few feet away, his legs stretching out in front of him. He doesn’t even have to see your face to know your eyes catch on his limbs. Their state of being outstretched only makes your need to do the same more intense. He gives Chris a quick glance.

“You uncomfortable, honey?” the larger man asks you.

Your eyes dart up to meet his. Hearing that pet name coming from anyone else but Leon left you flustered. You tried to reason that it didn’t mean anything. This was clearly another instance of you overthinking. Maybe Chris was just the type of guy who said that sort of thing? The kind that called cashiers sweetheart or darling. The kind who’d put your hand on your waist when saying excuse me. You didn’t remember him acting like this any of the other times you’d met him though. He was always polite with you, but that was about it. Maybe you just didn’t notice before?

“Um… I’m fine. Just a little cramp,” you explain.

He smiles at you, that same kind from earlier. “Well, I don't bite. You can stretch your legs out if you want to, princess,” he teases.

Princess. Ok that was definitely something. That name was reserved solely for the man whose arm was around you, and it usually came out only when he was prepping you to take his cock. You typically heard it as a coo when you were already crying out your own special name for him. Daddy. Daddy. Daddy. The two just went hand in hand. Honestly, you couldn’t really hear one without the other following close behind.

That’s why you get all timid and shy so easily. You were pretty sure Leon had psychologically conditioned you or something. Just a few touches in the right place, some words whispered in your ear in the perfect hushed tone, and you were a goner. Suddenly, your brain would feel soft and malleable. Urges appear within you to sit in his lap and cuddle. You’d just wanna look up at your daddy with dazed eyes and have him stick something in your mouth.

And sure, it wasn’t like you were brainwashed or something. You still possessed self control. It wasn’t like he’d pet your head and call you his baby, and you’d instantly lose yourself over it. It was just a slow slip into this side of your personality, and being around Chris didn’t exactly deter those feelings from coming out either because just look at him. He looked like he was meant to be called daddy. Whenever Leon would tease you in front of him, it felt like you soaked your panties even quicker than normal.

You're snapped out of your analysis of this moment when you feel a large, warm hand wrap around your ankle. He pulls your leg out, and in-turn, drags you closer. A soft squeak escapes you as your body slides down Leon’s. Your back is still resting against his side, just lower. More of you is spread across the sofa, and your calves were fully in Chris’s lap.

You look up at your boyfriend to see his response to his friend’s action, but he didn’t even seem interested. He barely spared you a second glance in your new position, simply adjusting his arm to accommodate the new location of your head. He wraps it below your jaw and has you rest your chin on the bend of his elbow. His fingers start rubbing soothing, little circles on your shoulder. Meanwhile, Chris’s large palms merely rest on your legs. He gives you a smile before turning his eyes back to the tv screen. You quickly follow suit. If he wasn’t thinking this was weird, you weren’t going to make it weird by dwelling on it.

For a while, it’s fine. The three of you continue watching the show, albeit a little more quiet than before. Leon’s hand remains on your shoulder and keeps up his light touches. Your body relaxes again though as you let go of any nervousness you had. But then, Chris starts moving his hand too.

His palm smooths out over your lower leg. His other hand rubs your ankle, his fingertips coasting over the joint. One is moving in long strokes while the other stays in tight circles, but both go at a sensual pace, slow and teasing.

Your head turns to look at him again, but you find his stare is still on the characters of the tv show. You watch his hands move. They’re now essentially massaging your legs. His hand that had been lower has risen and works on the muscles, digging his warm digits into the flesh.

You squirm a little, trying to alert your boyfriend that his friend was touching you in a way that seemed more than friendly. It doesn’t work though. If he does see, he doesn’t mind because he simply leans down and plants a gentle kiss on the top of your head before reverting to his same position. You almost felt crazy for a second. This wasn’t normal, was it? Had you just lived your life not knowing that it was a regular thing for a boyfriend’s friend to give you a massage like this? Was Leon ok with it cause he was there so it couldn’t go too far? You really had no clue.

If you were being honest though, Chris’s hands didn’t feel bad. Not at all. They felt really good. They were big and warm and moved with strategy. They hit all your sweet spots. Kinda made you wanna crawl into his lap so he could rub more of your body, but that was the problem. This wasn’t right. You felt that saccharine heat creeping up your spine and seeping into your head, but you shouldn’t be feeling that for anyone else besides the man behind you.

Now guilt casts a shadow over you too, and the pair of emotions was a volatile mix. You didn’t even realize it, but your nipples had started to stiffen. Your thighs shift against each other, and had you really been paying attention, you would have seen the way Chris’s lips slightly quirked up into a smirk. Your body gets a little tense as you run through the possibilities of what you should do in this situation.

As if Leon could sense your thoughts racing, his hand lowers and starts rubbing your arm. Deciding to remain where you are for now, you press your cheek against his bicep for comfort. Not that you could see, but just like Chris, his expression grows smug. His hand readjusts again so it’s closer to your chest. Your eyes widen as he basically starts feeling you up. His hand squeezes your breast before his fingers circle your nipple, gently tweaking the hardened bud.

At the same time, the hands on your legs start moving higher. The broad strokes begin meeting your thighs too. Little bumps of anticipation erupt across your skin. You already knew your center would soon be slick.

Your head feels hot now. It made you feel a weird kind of dizzy. Even though it was only a few hands and simple touches, it was so much. Combined with the fact that it was so unusual, you started feeling overwhelmed. Your pulse pounds in your ears and your hands feel tingly. You feel a whimper rising in your throat. When he finally glides his hands up to the hem of your shorts, your legs jerk and you scoot back.

By the time Chris looks over, you’re already in Leon’s lap, arms around him, face buried against his neck. He’s worried for a second that something was seriously wrong. Profuse apologies rush to the tip of his tongue, but Leon signals him to just wait.

“Oh, baby, what’s wrong?” he coos, a hand sliding beneath your shirt to rub your back. Of course, he knew the answer already. He knew exactly how you got with this kind of stuff which is why he knew exactly how to handle it.

You end up simply shaking your head, unable to articulate the exact reason for your distress. Because really, nothing was wrong. Everything felt right. But it shouldn’t feel right? Maybe that’s what was wrong. That’s too much for your mouth to get out while you feel like this though.

“Aw, is my pretty girl feeling shy?” he whispers and strokes your hair.

You nod, pulling back a little to reveal your face and look up at the familiar set of eyes you found so much comfort in. He gives you a small kiss of reassurance before continuing to coax you with his low and soothing tone.

“Oh sweetheart, why are you shy? You don’t have anything to be embarrassed about,” he says.

“Because…” you start softly, nervously glancing at Chris only to see him watching the entire exchange. You force your attention back to your boyfriend. “Because Chris is here.”

His chest rumbles with a low laugh. “Oh, princess. That’s not a reason. Didn’t you like how Chris was touching you? Wasn’t he making you feel good?”

“I guess…” you admit.

“See? You don’t have to be embarrassed around daddy’s friend. He only wants to play with you because you’re so cute,” he teases and lands a barrage of kisses on your cheek.

You were going to freak out about him using the d word in front of someone else, but looking over at Chris, he didn’t look at all shocked. His eyes were soft and comforting as they watched you, but you were still a little uncertain. You turn your face back into Leon. He keeps rubbing your back and holds you a little closer on his lap.

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to, baby. I just think you’d have a lot of fun,” Leon says softly, “You know how wet that pretty pussy gets thinking about someone else watching you with daddy, joining in because he just can’t resist a good girl like you.”

He was right. He knew your fantasies like the exact situation playing out in your living room right now. But it was scarier when it was real. You didn’t have the control anymore. That's what made it exciting too though.

“It’s just Chris, honey,” he continues reassuring you, “He’d never hurt you. He thinks you're as precious as I do. But even still, daddy’s gonna be here the whole time. You know I’d never let anything hurt my girl.”

You soften up more, relaxing under Leon’s touch and tender words. As you’re thinking it over, leaning towards going through with this, Chris scoots closer to the two of you on the couch. He tentatively places his hand on your leg and caresses your skin.

“It’s up to you, babydoll,” he says, “I only wanna help your daddy make you feel good.”

Oh god. He was a natural at this, talked down to you just the way you liked.

“See, princess? There’s nothing to be afraid of,” Leon says. He strokes some of your hair back and watches as you look at the other man, deciding whether to let him in or not. He chuckles in your ear. “He’s acting cool, but you don’t know how bad he’s been wanting a turn with you. I’m sure you’ve seen him staring. Sometimes I think he’s practically drooling watching you. You know he goes home and strokes his dick raw, wishing it was your pretty little hands instead.”

It’s obvious there’s some truth to Leon’s statement from the way Chris remains silent. Your teeth sink into your bottom lip as you mull it over. Why was it so bad? You wanted it and they both wanted it. Why should you stop yourself?

You look up at your boyfriend and nod, silently communicating that you wanted this. He smiles and shifts you in his lap so that you’re in a more accessible position. One hand rubs your inner thighs while his other arm stays wrapped around your body to hold you close.

Upon seeing your confirmation, Chris comes even closer. As he gets situated, Leon leans in and connects his lips with yours in a few soft kisses. Your noses brush and breathing deepens. He strokes your cheek before pulling away and looking in your eyes.

“Why don’t you try that with Chris, baby? Give him some of those kisses he’s been dreaming about,” he breathes.

Your focus shifts to the man sitting to your boyfriend’s right. Eyes casting down, you bring your head forward, and Chris closes the gap. Your breath hitches when you feel the unfamiliar lips meet your own. They’re noticeably different from the pair you were used to, but it wasn’t a bad different.

You move your lips with his, shuddering a little when you feel him grunt. He struggles not to take more than what you give. Leon watches on with a grin, stroking your hair and making sure it was out of your face. Your hand maintains an iron grip on him the entire time.

“Such a good girl,” he purrs in your ear.

All three of you had long stopped paying attention to the tv, so Leon shuts it off. He then leans in to suck little love bites onto your throat. You whine into your kisses with his friend. The sound causes you to open your mouth, allowing Chris to slip his tongue in to meet yours. You moan and reciprocate the advance. His smiles against your lips as his hand glides up and gropes at one of your breasts, drawing another whimper from you.

Several hickeys later, Leon removes his mouth from your neck to admire his work. His fingers drag over the wet, darkened skin. He licks one more stripe over the area before leaning back and pulling you with him. You’re slightly out of breath, eyes dilated, and lips a bit puffy.

“Aw, look at that face,” Leon teases, talking more to Chris than you, “She loves her kisses. Sometimes I think she likes it more than the actual fucking.”

“I could tell. All those sweet sounds she was making,” Chris chuckles. His chest rises and falls in a pattern similar to yours.

“Oh yeah, so sensitive, my baby,” Leon coos, “You wanna go sit in Chris’s lap and give him some more kisses?”

You shake your head and tighten your grip on his hand. They both smile at your timid display.

“My mistake. You just gotta give her some time to adjust. She’s not used to anyone but daddy. Isn’t that right?” Leon jokes.

You nod and snake your arms around him, hiding your face against his chest again. He couldn’t get enough of how clingy you became when you felt like this.

“No, no. No more being shy. C’mon, his lips still have your spit on ‘em. There’s no reason for you to hide,” he teases you and guides your head back up to see your eyes, “You still wanna do this, don’t you?”

You nod again, looking up at him with those loving eyes.

“That’s what I thought, so how about this?” he starts. He gets your arms to unlock from their position around him and tucks his fingers beneath the hem of your shirt. “How about we show daddy’s friend more of this precious body, yeah?”

You lift your arms and allow him to tug the fabric up and over your head. Your breasts spring free, but his hands are immediately there to cup them, knead the flesh, and tease your nipples. From his place next to the two of you, Chris’s eyes drop to the swell of your chest.

“You’re even prettier than Leon told me, baby,” he coos before leaning in, giving you one more kiss and then trailing his lips down the side of your throat. They glide over the warm skin and across the expanse of your chest.

Your boyfriend’s hands drop from your breasts, letting Chris’s take their place. You shift and lean back so your back is pressed to Leon’s chest, giving the other man more access. He fondles them before latching his mouth onto a nipple, his tongue swirling around the little peak. A little sigh escapes your lips to the pleasure of both men.

“I think she likes that, Chris,” Leon croons, his hands rubbing up and down your sides.

Chris sucks on the pebbled nub a bit more before alternating to the other one. He spends less time over there before just kissing all over your chest.

“Got such pretty tits,” he grunts, laving a tongue across your skin.

Your face heats up at the compliment, and of course, Leon knew without even having to look. He could tell by the slight way you squirmed your hips on his lap.

“Aw, princess. You like when daddy’s friend calls you pretty?” he coos. Once he sees your little nod, he continues. “How about you let him pull down your shorts and see how cute your cunt is next.”

You agree to this with no hesitation, trying to elevate your hips so he could remove your clothing. Chris smirks at your overt desire. In a quick move, he scoots back and pulls by your hips so that you’re laying across the couch again. Your head is on Leon’s thigh so you can look up at him while your fingers remain tightly interlaced with his.

The larger man peels your shorts off and then your panties. He gazes upon your dripping cunt. His thumb drags up and down through your slick in an exploratory touch.

“Oh, honey,” he breathes, circling your clit. His hand moves down again before he slides two fingers into your hole. “You’re gonna take our cocks so well. Pussy this pretty is made for that.”

You suck in a gasp that turns into a long whine as his digits fill you up. His fingers were nice and thick, filling you up just right. Your eyes flutter, and your head presses against Leon’s thigh. Chris starts pumping them in and out, stroking your inner walls.

“That’s right, baby,” Leon reassures you, “He’s gonna open you up, and you’re gonna feel so good.”

A breathy whimper falls from your lips. Your hips rock a little, but Chris allows it, enjoying your enthusiasm as you become more comfortable. You feel his fingers curling within you in motions that drive you wild and have your hands grabbing at the edges of the couch cushion beneath you.

“There you go, sweet baby. Am I doing it right?” Chris asks teasingly. With your frantic nod, he works a third finger into you. Your eyes roll back and you choke out a moan.

Leon smiles down at you and strokes your hair. His bulge grows harder, watching you get so wound up for his friend.

“Make sure you rub her pretty little clit, Chris. She loves that,” he says, “Might be a little sore since she likes to play with it so much.”

Chris grins at that, taking his turn to tease you now. “Is that right? You like playing dirty, princess? I bet you can’t help it. Cute girls like you get needy so easy. Can’t think without making yourself cum every few hours, yeah?”

“Mhm,” you whimper and nod.

“I’ll be gentle then. Think your sweet spot just needs some special kisses,” he coos.

He bends down so his mouth can be level with your cunt, a bit of a challenge with his size, but he manages. His lips meet your clit and give you some soft kisses. A little flick of the tongue and the light movement of his flesh against your sensitive bundle of nerves has your walls fluttering around him, little mewls escaping your lips.

Then, with a harsh suck to your clit, he works a fourth finger inside you. Your legs kick a little, but he simply slides them to rest on his shoulders. Every little twitch next to his head has more of his blood rushing south. Your hips buck too as you adjust to the minor stretch.

“You’re daddy’s perfect girl, you know that right? Girl of my fuckin’ dreams. Doing so good for me right now,” your boyfriend says from above you. His eyes watch on fondly as Chris slides basically his entire hand in and out of you. “Think you can cum for Chris, baby? Gush all over his fingers so it’s nice and easy for him and daddy to fill you up?”

You nod quickly.

Chris sucks harder on your clit and flicks his tongue against you with more fervor. His hand finds a rhythm that you seemed to like, had you twitching more than before. He could hear your voice rising to a higher pitch.

“C’mon, pretty girl. Make your daddy proud,” he murmurs against your folds.

You really don’t know what it was, but that phrase does you in. You turn your face against Leon’s hip, dig your fingers into his palm, and erupt into a frenzy of whining and bucking your hips.

Chris continues his efforts, relishing the sensation of your slick coating his fingers and palm. His lips gradually loosen on your swollen bud. He gives it a few more licks before sitting up and gazing down at your blissed out body.

They both give you a second to rest before Leon sits you up on the couch. He gives you a quick kiss and looks into your eyes, hazy from release.

“Think you’re ready for daddy and Chris to fuck you?” he coos and rubs your cheek.

“Mhm,” you hum, returning his loving stare.

“Of course you are. My sweet girl,” he says.

The two men don’t waste time undressing themselves. Clothing piles up on the ground as they match your nudity. Both of them stand as they undo their belts and drop their pants. You’d seen Leon’s dick a hundred times by now. You watch him pull it out and give it a few strokes. The tip flushes bright red like always, a couple familiar veins span up the side. You turn your attention to Chris, looking upon a sight you hadn’t seen before.

You’re snapped out of your post-orgasm stupor when you catch a glimpse of the appendage hanging between Chris’s legs. Just like every other part of him, it’s noticeably thick. The length was good too, sure, but it wasn’t the main attraction. His cock didn’t get as red as Leon’s, but it still had the veins. He even had a few beads of white, sticky precum leaking from the head.

“Oh, you like what you see, baby?” Leon teases when he notices your wonder, “I’m sure Chris would be happy to let you suck on it next time.”

“Daddy, it’s not gonna fit,” you say, looking up at him and ignoring the tempting idea of giving Chris a blowjob.

He smiles down at you, simultaneously condescending and affectionate. “Of course it will. C’mere, princess,” he says.

In no time at all, Leon’s back on the couch, guiding you on top of him. You crawl to meet the place he’s directing you. Lowering yourself against him, your front rests against his and your head lies near the crook of his neck. The warmth of his body comforts you but not enough to push out your concerns completely.

“You don’t have to worry, sweetheart. I’m gonna get you nice and comfy on daddy’s cock, and then Chris will just slide right in,” he reassures you, “You’re gonna feel so good. You just let me take care of everything.”

His arm had already slithered beneath your hip to line up his shaft with your entrance. He runs the tip through your soaked folds then pushes in. A whiny moan escapes you, and your arms wrap tighter around him. The feeling wasn’t a new one, but it still felt so good. He works himself in and out slowly, hips rocking off the couch in small thrusts.

“That’s my girl, taking it just like you’re meant to. I’ve got you trained so well,” he murmurs against your hair.

The entire time, you feel Chris’s eyes on you. His pupils fixated on the sight of Leon pumping in and out of your gushing cunt. You hear him spit down onto his hand and know he’s started to stroke himself in anticipation. Other than that, he stays quiet, locked onto you sucking up every inch of your boyfriend's cock.

Leon continues gliding in and out. You feel the muscles in his chest and neck straining with the pleasure your pulsing walls give him.

“Fuck, you’re so wet. Chris did a good job with you,” he groans. His breaths become ragged as he staves off true euphoria. This couldn’t end too quickly. “You know, babydoll, I don’t think you said thank you to Chris for making you feel so good. That’s not very nice.”

You whimper as your brain registers the implication of his words. At the moment, you were more focused on rolling your hips with Leon’s, but you force some words out of your mouth cause you’re a good girl after all.

“Sorry daddy,” you say, cut off by a whine as he pokes a sensitive spot, “T-thank you, Chris.”

“You’re welcome, sweetheart,” he responds. You can hear the satisfaction in his voice, but you don’t have the chance to linger on it since you feel his broad palm land on the small of your back. His fingers rub the skin gently, as if to keep you calm while he positions himself on his knees behind you. You whine again and cling harder to Leon.

“You can say thank you better than that, baby,” he teases, trying to keep any fear away from you. He presses a kiss to your temple as well and rubs your back, “What are you thanking him for?”

“Thank you for making me cum, Chris. Your fingers and kisses felt so good,” you whimper, adding on the last bit before Leon could correct you further.

“Oh, you’re welcome,” he repeats with excessive adoration, “You deserve it for being such a good girl. Besides, that pussy was so fucking sweet, makes me want another taste.”

You squeeze around Leon and bite your lip as your lower belly erupts with butterflies. And then you feel it. You feel the hot tip of Chris’s heavy cock nudging at your entrance above Leon’s. You tense and dig your fingers into the flesh of his back.

“Just relax, baby. You’re gonna be just fine. Daddy’s right here,” he coos and holds you tighter against his chest.

“You ready?” Chris asks softly.

You squeeze your eyes shut but nod, waiting to feel the stretch.

And it comes right away. You gasp as another cock enters you. Whining, your hands scramble to grab at something. Leon takes one and squeezes it lovingly, pausing his thrusts. You bury your face against his skin, your chest erratically puffing as you try to accommodate the sizes. Both men are groaning, eyes fluttering or rolled back, muscles flexing as they take in the tight, wet heat engulfing them.

“Doing so good, pretty girl, so good,” Leon mutters.

You can’t fathom any kind of response. The burning sensation of both of them was still so intense and from what you could tell, Chris wasn’t even all the way in yet. He was still pushing forward as far as he could. At a certain point, you can’t fight off the tears pricking at your waterline. Your free hand clamps over your mouth as a choked cry tumbles out.

“So fucking tight, I could cum right now,” Chris grunts.

Leon’s hand covers your right hip, tracing tiny soothing circles over your skin. Chris occupies your left, digging his fingers into the flesh. The subtle difference between the two sides drives you further into the throes of ecstasy.

When Chris manages to bully his cock nearly all the way inside you, as deep as it could go at least, Leon feels your hot tears sliding off your cheeks and pooling on his chest.

“Oh, poor baby,” he croons. He lets go of your hand for a second to swipe a few drops away, but then he takes it back. “You ok, honey? Too much for you?”

You weakly shake your head that it wasn’t too much, sniffling between whimpers. They’ve both stopped now to let you get used to the entirety of them. The site of your connection pulses with need on all three accounts. You feel Chris gripping you a little harder in an effort to keep his composure.

“My tough girl, so brave for daddy. Makin’ me so proud,” he whispers and kisses your hairline.

“So fuckin’ pretty too. You look gorgeous all filled up like this,” Chris moans from behind you.

His gaze remains on his and Leon’s cocks splitting you open. He starts rocking his hips a bit, groaning at the combined feeling of your slick walls with Leon’s length rubbing against his. Leon starts moving again too.

You let out a sound that’s between a yelp and a moan. Both of Leon’s arms snake around you to keep you engulfed in his embrace. He’s more vocal than usual, the mix of stimulation getting to him as well.

“That’s right. You keep crying for your daddy. Let me hear how much you need me. Just cry it out like the good little girl you are,” he mumbles against you.

Once you’ve become comfortable with the stretch, it starts feeling better than you’d imagined. In tandem, they’re stroking every part of you. They slide in and out, back and forth, pulling soft whines from you. The only noise apart from the three of you grunting and moaning, is the obscene noises that come from them pumping into your wet pussy. You feel your ability for coherent thoughts slipping away. You just wanted to be full of your daddy and his friend.

Chris smacks your ass while picking up his pace a bit. “Now she’s getting into it,” he says.

You get a little louder to both their enjoyment. Grabbing at Leon a little more, you shudder while hearing moans bubble up from his chest and out of his mouth.

“That’s cause you’re such a good girl. Right baby?” he asks, his voice breathier, “So good at whining for your daddy’s cock.”

You nod without a second thought. You’re panting a bit as the thrusts start hitting just right. Your expressions and the tightening of your cunt give you away. You hear both of them groaning and getting a little more primal with their movements.

“You feel that, Chris? She’s getting closer. Can always tell by the way her pussy starts trying to keep me in. So desperate for some cum,” Leon says.

“Yeah. I can feel her cute little cunt begging for it,” Chris growls.

They’re both going harder, making your mind get all fuzzy and causing more tears to fall, although by this time they’re purely tears of pleasure. Your cries are whiny and needy.

“My baby, my baby,” Leon grunts while lacing his fingers in your hair, “I want you to cum for me, ok? Wanna feel you cumming all over our cocks. Show Chris how good you make me feel every single night when you start clamping down on me.”

You don’t finish right then. It takes a handful more thrusts from each of them to hit the right buttons and work you over that edge, dropping you into a pool of euphoria. The bliss washes over you, and as Leon described, your pussy squeezes around them in waves. They’re both moaning now, grabbing you harder, sighing and gasping. You twitch on top of Leon, and he holds you close and helps you through it.

“Look at that sweet face. Always so pretty when you let go,” he mumbles just for you to hear, “Keep cumming, dolly. Want you feeling like you’re in heaven.”

Leon’s the first to blow his load, shooting it deep inside you. He pumps it in while you’re still releasing. His own hips twitch and buck while that hot, sticky liquid flows from him.

Chris takes a bit longer, savoring every last moment he has inside your precious cunt. He keeps thrusting after you’ve finished, making you squirm with the slight overstimulation. Leon hisses too, feeling the friction from his movements against his dick.

When he finally does cum, your body is overtaken with a shiver. He fucks it deep into you. His thrusts don’t weaken while he spills it inside of you. He keeps moving in powerful strokes until he’s satisfied.

After he’s truly done, Chris leans down and kisses the space between your shoulder blades. “So good, pretty baby,” he praises softly before pulling out.

It feels weird just having Leon’s dick in you. It’s your normal but so strange now too. He slides himself out next though, so there isn’t too much time to fester on that. Sitting up, he pulls you with him while covering your face in kisses.

Everyone is laid back right now, letting the post-high wear off as you all come down. You stay curled up to Leon like you always did after finishing. He rubs your back like normal, knowing your head was most likely still up in the clouds. Eventually, all of your breathing steadies and returns to a regular pace.

Your hazy eyes open and gaze over at Chris. “Thank you Chris,” you say, tone a bit dreamier than it usually is.

“You’re welcome, honey,” he says, smiling at you.

“Look at you, so polite,” Leon teases, “By the looks of it, you’re gonna be sitting on Chris’s lap soon enough and leaving me on the sidelines.”

You shake your head and nuzzle him. All of you take a brief moment to finish the descent back to normalcy. Chris stands to pull on his pants again.

“We’ll get there one of these days,” he jokes.

“I don’t know about that. This one’s a daddy’s girl before anything else,” Leon says, before smooching your forehead.

#leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x y/n #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy imagine #leon kennedy smut #resident evil imagines #resident evil x reader #resident evil smut #smut #chris redfield x y/n #chris redfield x reader #chris redfield x you #chris redfield smut #chris redfield imagine

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brainlesscutie · 1 month

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i wish someone would tease me all day long, and i really do mean allllll day. first thing in the morning, waking up already dripping because they’ve been running their hands across all the places they know make me weak. trying to urge their hand downwards to stroke my throbbing tdick, but they just get out of bed and ask what i want for breakfast.

i follow them out to the kitchen, waiting patiently while i try to ignore my throbbing puppycunt. “come help me out real quick,” they ask. i approach, expecting to help with our breakfast, but they force me to my knees and pull down their pajama pants. they mumble “good puppy,” before shoving my face into their crotch, and i lick and suck until they tell me to stop.

we eat our food together on the couch, and they barely wait until i’m done before their hands are back on me. i’m already starting to lose my composure, but when i mumble out a breathy “pleasseee,” they stop again - casually reaching for the remote and turning on something to watch.

i try my hardest to focus on what we’re watching, but all i can think about is how horny i am. i press my thighs together, trying get any sort of relief. they put a hand on my thigh and turn towards me. “what’s wrong, pup? you seem to be a bit restless,” they say innocently.

i’m caught off guard by being addressed so suddenly and start trying to stammer out an answer. i can tell they’re pleased by how worked up i already am. “i just… i want you to touch me,” i finally manage to form a full sentence.

they chuckle. “aww, isn’t that sweet?” they ask in a patronizing tone. they move to straddle me on the couch, catching my wrists as i go to wrap my arms around them and pinning them to my sides. they start leaving soft kisses on my neck, nipping and sucking lightly.

i buck my hips upwards, trying to grind my neglected tdick onto anything, but they pull back immediately. i look up at them, still breathless. “why’d you stop?” i pout.

“because i wanted to, silly pup,” they say matter-of-factly. i want to protest, but i know it’ll only mean punishment later. so i keep my mouth shut and we go about the rest of our days.

they frequently check in on me, coming to see what i’m doing just to distract me with touches that linger for long after they’ve moved on. i try my best to go about my day as normal as i can, but my dripping boy pussy takes up all my focus.

by the evening, i’m a complete mess. the constant and frequent visits from them have left my body feeling tingly. i join them in the bed room while they pack a bowl and light up. they sit on the bed and take a rip, motioning me closer. i lean in, and they pull me down into a kiss, exhaling the smoke into my lungs.

i inhale deeply, taking the bong from them to return the favor. the high makes it all that much harder to ignore my teased tdick. i look over to them, watching as they take another rip. they raise an eyebrow when they notice me staring. “hm? does my puppy want something?”

“will you… please touch me now?” i start. they keep quiet for a bit, just staring into my eyes. it makes me uneasy, but the desperate hole between my legs makes me ignore any sense of shame. “please? i’ve been such a good boy all day… i didn’t try to touch myself. i was a good puppy…” tears form in my eyes as the begging becomes more and more genuine - i’ve never felt so desperate before.

their stoic expression finally breaks into a satisfied grin. “you’re so cute when you beg like that, puppy,” they say. “get on all fours and present for me like a good boy - i’ll give you exactly what you asked for.” i eagerly listen, moving into the position they’ve had me practice to perfection.

it feels like ages before i feel them lining their thick cock up behind me. i shiver as they massage the tip on my entrance. i try to push my hips back on it, but they hold me still. “please…. please fuck me - i can’t take it any more,” i don’t even try to hide how badly i need to be fucked any more.

“such a desperate mutt..” they growl out. in one swift movement, they push into me. finally being filled up after a day of teasing sends me over the edge immediately. “aww, what a naughty puppy… you were doing so well, but you know you’re not supposed to cum without permission.”

“i’m sorry - i didn’t mean to,” i say, still breathless. “please don’t stop - i was so good. it was just an accident,” more tears threatening to spill from my eyes. they think for a moment, leaving me to anxiously wait for their decision in silence while their hard cock is warmed by my cunt. i want to move so badly, but i don’t risk it.

“fine, we’ll keep going,” they finally break the silence. i open my mouth to thank them, but they cut me off. “But… since you couldn’t wait for my permission, you’re cumming as many times as i want you to.”

i don’t care what they tell me at this point as long as it means they’ll keep going. “yes - please , anything. i’ll take as much as you want me to, just please don’t stop,” my brain is a jumbled mess - my only thought is convincing them to keep fucking me.

their expression changes, and they pull out, flipping me onto my back. “Oh puppy… you’re in for a very long night.”

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nereidprinc3ss · 4 days

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strange perfections

in which spencer reid and fem!reader meet by accident at a coffee shop. and then they keep meeting there. they've really got to stop meeting like this. (no, seriously. hotch is pissed.) / do you believe me now? bonus chapter!

fluff! warnings/tags: meet cute:) some dark humor, romantically inexperienced reader, spencer reid graduated from caltech, mit, and the derek morgan school of rizz a/n: this can absolutely be read as a standalone BUT it was written as a prologue for my series do you believe me now? to explain how spencer and r met! completely optional, if you're only here for the smut no worries! reading this bonus chapter might make the next chapter better though as it contains discussions of how they met:) anyway, I LOVE YOU!! let me know if you like this silly little random thing! kisses

The café door opens again. A blustery wind raises goosebumps on your arms and makes your bones ache again. You look up at the latest intruder—a hobbling elderly man in a newsboy cap and a knit red scarf.

Stupid scarf, you think.

Stupid door.

Stupid wind.

Your mug is empty, and the table you’re sitting at is sort of sticky and rickety, and there are so many papers in front of you that you wonder why the hell you thought it’d be a good idea to print the PDF out and annotate it that way instead of just doing it on your laptop like a normal person in the 21st century. Nothing is going right today. It’s the third café you’ve tried in the past few weeks as you attempt to find some place that feels homey, lucky, but this one just feels… inconvenient.

You look at the stack of papers and sigh.

Stupid Lord Byron.

Stupid cafe.

Usually, cafés are relatively quiet and peaceful—a refuge for the overworked to bask in the luxury of quiet jazz and the smell of dark roast as they continue to overwork themselves. This particular establishment, however, today hosts a group of teenagers—presumably playing hooky—who have commandeered a big booth in the back and keep walking right past your table because apparently they couldn’t have just ordered their drinks at once and they all have to do it separately and loudly.

One of them has an incredibly irritating, gratingly pubescent laugh, and they think everything is hilarious. This whole situation is unbearable.

Just as you’re gearing up to go, of course the fucking door opens again. This time, it’s accompanied by a particularly strong gust.

Strong enough that Lord Byron doesn’t stand a chance.

Your printed copy of his works blows off the table, at first page by painstakingly annotated page and then before you can even process it, all at once.

Yeah. This is definitely not your lucky café.

As you curse and go to stand up, you run into one of those dumb kids. His huge ceramic mug goes flying, careening against the edge of your table and completely splattering you and all your stuff in 16 liquid ounces of scalding espresso and milk.

It’s silent for a second, save for a few drips from the puddle on your table to the floor, before the kid is apologizing profusely and turning red as a tomato. You can’t even respond—you look down at your ruined favorite sweater, and then around at the pages of Byron littered with color-coded sticky notes, overflowing with angry and purposeful red ink that you spent so much time on, scattered all over the floor.

Eventually the boy catches on that you’re not going to forgive him and he skitters away, back to his friends, who whisper and giggle profusely. Only a few of them get up to start gathering the fallen pages with you. Several other patrons end up helping as well, so the sheets of paper are gathered and returned into your sticky hands fairly quickly. You thank each person without looking up as they hand you their respective stack. All you want is to get out of here.

“Here—I’m really sorry about this,” someone says—a tenor-ish male voice, distinctly sympathetic as he holds out a rather larger stack of papers than anyone else had bothered to pick up.

“I’ll live,” you sigh, straightening up. “But thank… you.”

The man standing in front of you is the kind of man who makes you want to untuck your hair from its usual spot behind your ears, and to stand up straighter, and to try and not stare even though you want his attention. He’s gloriously beautiful in a way that repels and attracts you. He’s the type of man who wouldn’t have given you the time of day in high school and probably wouldn’t now. Instantly you feel both insecure and reduced to a former version of you who would simper and fawn over boys who wanted nothing to do with her. You feel like going to the other side of the café and sitting in the best light and staring out the window poetically and hoping he’s looking at you.

“On the one hand, I feel bad for being the person who opened the door and let the wind in. On the other… I feel compelled to say at least they’re not covered in coffee like the rest of your table is?”

You laugh vacantly, a second too late, positively coveting the awkward smile on his angular face. Then you make eye contact, and his eyes are so the opposite of angular—they’re huge and inviting and the warmest golden-brown you’ve ever seen, and they’re looking right back at you—and you have to look down. Fuck. You hate when you do that.

Think of something normal to say!

“Yeah, true. Now I just have to reorder 264 pages. That… that don’t have page numbers.”

You shuffle through the papers. They are hopelessly scrambled. Your heart sinks just a bit.

“Um… I might actually be able to help with that, if you want?”

You frown, glancing up. What kind of sex trafficking ploy is this?

“That’s okay. Might be easier with just one person.”

He laughs—it’s similarly awkward, similarly endearing.

“Do you mind letting me just… try? It’ll only take a minute.”

Only take a minute? Is this beautiful man deranged? Why are the hot ones always crazy?

But, perhaps because you’re a pushover who can’t stand up to people, much less beautiful people, much less beautiful men who are paying you undue attention, you find yourself giving in. You hold the stack out.

“Sure. Give it your best shot. I’ll be impressed if you can even figure out what page one is.”

He’s already flipping through the papers with a drawn brow, walking away with them, and barely looking over his shoulder as he mutters, “I have Byron memorized. It shouldn’t be too difficult.”

You follow him, because hello, he has all your annotations. He’s definitely insane, you think, as he sits down at a table and starts rapidly sorting the sheets into separate piles.

All you can do is stand awkwardly behind him as he stacks papers seemingly at random, barely glancing at them before deciding where they go.

Maybe a minute, maybe a few go by, each of which have you progressively more flabbergasted, before he’s tapping the edges of a stack of paper on the table and standing, handing them to you with his lips pressed into a thin pleasant line. There’s almost a glow about him—like he couldn’t be more in his comfort zone.

“There you go. Should be in order now.” You sport a frown bordering on a grimace as you take the stack and flip through it a bit. Sure enough, it seems that everything is in order. You keep looking between the man in front of you and the papers, incredulous as you wait for something to be in the wrong spot.

“How did you do that?”

His cheeks turn slightly pink.

“I know Byron really well. I know how each passage ends and begins so I put them together like puzzle pieces.”

“How did you read that fast?”

“Uh. I’m a speed-reader?”

You scoff, taking another look through the stack.

“I think that may be underselling it.” A thought occurs to you as you’re grazing over one of your longer annotations—full of expletives and strong opinions. “Oh, god. You didn’t… you didn’t read my notes?”

The man’s eyebrows raise as if he was waiting for you to mention that and he smiles like he doesn’t quite know how to break it to you gently.

“Maybe a few,” he eventually decides, laughing under his breath. “I appreciated the commentary on his relationship with Augusta. It was… colorful.”

Heat rises in your cheeks as you mumble.

“Yeah, I had a hard time appreciating the romantic poems. They’re less cute when there’s like a fifty percent chance he’s writing about his sister.”

“Half sister,” he corrects. You give him a look.

“Does that make it better?”

“… no,” he realizes. “Not even a little bit.”

You laugh, relieved that his face looks as warm as yours feels.

“Well… thank you, for the help,” you say after a silent second.

“Of course. Sorry, again. I, um—I hope your day gets better?”

“Yeah, well. I feel like statistically it has to, right? It’s kind of a low bar.”

He smiles, a perfect, perfect smile, and gives you a little wave as he leaves. Without coffee. Checking the clock on the wall, you realize it’s approaching one in the afternoon. If he’d been here on his lunch break, he sacrificed it to organize your stupid Byron texts. You smile to yourself.

He was totally in love with me.

And he can’t prove me wrong because I’ll probably never see him again.

All things considered—this coffee shop does seem pretty lucky. Maybe you’ll stick with it for a while.

The next time you see the mysterious sexy speed reader is four days later—though you’ve been here every day since. He catches your eye right as he walks in, and his brows jump in pleasant recognition. You smile. He smiles back, before going up to the counter and ordering a coffee with a ludicrous amount of sugar in it.

I should take note for when I make him his coffee in the mornings, you think to yourself, and then you snort at your own delusions, shaking your head at your book. Obviously you’re not that divorced from reality, but you’ll entertain the fantasy forever until one of you stops showing up to this café.

What you’re absolutely not expecting is for him to walk up to your table with his to-go cup.

“Hi,” he says.

“Hi!”

Jesus. Tone it down, girl scout.

He gestures to your stack of papers: now secured in a three ring binder. The cup says Spencer.

Spencer. Spencer.

It feels important.

“I see you’ve upgraded.”

“Yes! Yes, I did,” you laugh self-consciously, still struggling to meet his eyes. “Thank you for the help the other day. I would still be sorting through all of this if it weren’t for that, so… yeah. Thanks.”

“Of course! I’m glad I could be of use.”

“Spence!” Someone calls from the cafe door. You both look up to see a stunning blonde beckoning him away.

Ah. Naturally. The girlfriend who is one trillion times prettier than you.

Spence.

Reality sets in.

“Coming!” He replies, with all the eager compliance of a child, before turning back to you. “Um… well… I’ll see you?”

It’s an awkward way to say goodbye to a stranger, but you suddenly don’t care enough to dwell. Instead you nod once, less enthusiastic now that you know he has a 10 waiting for him on the sidewalk.

“I am a creature of habit.”

Another wave as he walks away.

The two disappear from the doorway, but the perpetual breeze seems to carry a snatched bit of conversation your way.

“Who was that?”

“Uh… I don’t actually know.”

Yeah. Reality definitely sets in.

Over the next few days, you break your café streak. Life is busy. There’s not always time to artfully ponder Romantic poetry and drink a six dollar coffee while waiting around for certain people to show up.

Okay, so… maybe it has more to do with him than you’re letting on. But you’re not going to do that thing you do again, where you become limerently obsessed with a man you don’t know and who is way out of your league just because you can’t form an actual attachment to anyone to save your life. Besides, you remind yourself; we probably wouldn’t be compatible anyway. He’s probably a huge loser. Or secretly a douche. Or chews with his mouth open. Obviously nobody that attractive can also have a good personality.

Not to mention he has a girlfriend. That should put you off, too.

But you hadn’t been lying when you’d proclaimed to be a creature of habit—you return to the café once you feel sufficiently detached from this Spencer character.

He’s there. Of course he’s there. Why had you been expecting for him to not be there? It’s not like he was a figment of your imagination.

This time he’s accompanied by a different blonde woman—a bespectacled blonde with a big floral headband and a patterned dress and a red cardigan and tights and heels that look self-injurious. She’s quite eye-catching; you want to keep looking at her, but you seem to draw her attention, too. Her big eyes widen minutely and briefly you wonder if you’re supposed to know her, but certainly you’d remember meeting a person like that. She doesn’t seem easily forgettable. Both of you look to Spencer at the same time, who’s looking between you with an almost panicked expression.

“Oh! Th—” the woman whispers, cutting herself off when she realizes how loud she’s being in the otherwise silent establishment. “Ah! Okay, right. Never mind.”

Spencer sighs. You want to laugh, but you’re baffled by the whole thing. So you go back to reading.

Ten minutes later, they draw your attention once more.

“Go, go ahead! It’s more problematic for you to be late than me. I’ll be like, thirty seconds tops.”

You don’t look up as Spencer leaves the café—but are you supposed to gather that these two eccentric individuals are coworkers? And what of the first blonde woman, who you’d presumed to be his girlfriend? Where is she?

While you’re wondering all of this, the new blonde teeters her way over to your table.

“Hi!” She says pleasantly, waving a purple-tipped hand and wearing the biggest grin.

“Uh… hi?”

“I’m Penelope. You’ve met my friend Spencer. He just left.”

“Oh—sort of,” you smile weakly, closing your book. “Not formally. I didn’t know his name.”

That’s a lie, but maybe feigning non-chalance will make it real.

“Well, I just wanted to come over and say I love your bag. And your jewelry and your coat. I love your whole look. I bet you’re a really cool person.”

“Um—thank you!” You perk up, smiling genuinely now. The compliment warms you—you didn’t think your look was all that interesting today. “You too. I love your outfit.”

“Great! You’re—you’re great. This is good information. Um… just out of, like, sheer curiosity, could I get your name, age, and occupation? Oh—and your zodiac sign?”

What kind of convoluted sex trafficking ploy—

“Garcia!”

Spencer is at the doorway again, looking adorably miffed.

Adorable? Get a grip.

“Wh—I’m just making a new friend! Is friendship illegal, now?”

“This is the kind of friend-making that gets you a restraining order,” he urges.

You look up at Penelope Garcia, enamored by their whole dynamic. They clearly care for each other, despite the squabbling. What kind of job do they have where they talk to each other like this?

“It’s fine,” you smile, introducing yourself to her.

“That is such a good name!” She says, and you’re getting the sense she’s kind of always this enthusiastic. “So now we know each other’s names—we should probably definitely be friends, right?”

“Yeah! Um, definitely!”

“Yes? Oh my god! I love this! Okay, um—we work at Quantico, so, we’re like, 10 minutes away—but this is better than the coffee shop that’s closest to the building, so we come here all the time. Usually it’s just us and five grouchy old men, which makes this is really exciting.”

“Quantico… that’s the FBI academy, right?”

“Other stuff, too,” she nods, still smiley.

Oh! Cool. So they’re FBI agents.

So that’s cool.

You’re cool with that.

Her phone starts ringing—she locks eyes with Spencer.

“Hotch?”

“Ooh, we are in trouble,” Penelope sing-songs, leaning down to write her number on your notebook without asking. Not that you mind, of course. She adds a little heart and a smiley face next to her name before capping your pen and toddling away. “Bye, new friend!” She calls over her shoulder, waving goodbye with just her fingers.

“Bye,” you manage, though it’s probably too quiet.

Spencer flattens his mouth into an approximation of a smile and waves again.

You accidentally find yourself mirroring his goodbye, facial expression and all. Fuck. You hope he doesn’t notice. You hope he doesn’t read into it.

Nah. Boys are dumb.

You text Penelope later that afternoon—a simple greeting so that she can save your number—and then you forget about it.

It’s not until five days go by without sign of any of them—the two blondes, Spencer, this mysterious and foreboding Hotch figure—that you start to seriously question your sanity. Did they drop off the face of the planet, or what?

But of course, just as you’re sitting at your usual table, Spencer walks in. Alone.

He sees you immediately, but instead of the wave you’d come to expect, he immediately flushes, looks down at his shoes and hurries into the small lunch-rush line.

Weird.

You corner him at the coffee bar, where he’s adding more sugar to his coffee. How are his teeth so nice if he does this to himself every single day?

“Hey,” you say, affecting casual confidence as you bus your empty mug. “… Spencer, right?”

It’s comical how you’re pretending you haven’t turned that name over and looked at it from every angle hundreds of times since the first time you heard it.

He nods, only glancing up at you as he stirs. To your surprise, he knows your name, too. When you give him an odd look, he smiles almost apologetically, finally looking at your face for longer than half a second.

“I heard you introducing yourself to Penelope. Sorry if that’s…”

“No, no! Is she around, today? I texted her last week, but she never responded...”

“Today is operating system update day, so I don’t even really have a way of knowing if she’s alive in her office.” It’s funny to him, but you just smile, baffled. He notices your silence and catches on, scrambling to explain himself. “She’s our tech analyst. There are 243 computers in our building and she has to update them all remotely, which requires getting every agent to agree to not touch their computer at the same time for an hour or so.”

“Oh… does the FBI not have, like… an IT guy, or something?”

He laughs again—the way his eyes crinkle when he does it makes you a little breathless.

“You should say that to her. I think you would become her favorite person.”

It’s hard not to smile when he’s smiling because of you—however indirectly that may be. Quickly you realize you’ve both been standing in front of the coffee bar for too long.

“Alright, well… tell her good luck, for me?”

“I would, but I’ve been kicked out for an hour while she does the updates.”

Your brow furrows and you laugh.

“From the whole building? You just can’t keep your hands off your computer for an hour?”

“Not if I want to do my job, no. And I am kind of obsessive about my job. I’ve been the reason she had to start the whole process over again before and I’d rather not be that person again.”

You say it before you can think too hard.

“Well, if you have an hour to kill… there’s an open seat at my table? No pressure, obviously.”

And that was the first of thousands of hours you would come to spend with Spencer Reid.

After that, it sort of becomes a regular thing. He comes almost every day—except for occasional week or so long stretches, which you have discovered are a part of his absolutely fucking insane job—and sits with you, sometimes with Penelope, once with the other blonde, JJ, who you’ve since deduced is not his girlfriend, most often alone. Usually he can’t spare more than ten minutes, but he begins pushing it, little by little, until thirty minutes go by and you think surely his boss (the great and all-powerful Hotchner) must be beginning to notice.

One day, during your usual lunchtime rendezvous, his phone rings. He talks right on through it, like it’s not happening.

It ceases. And then it starts again.

Your head drops to your shoulder, something like pity or regret softening your features. He catches your eye and melts slightly, mid-sentence—like he knows you’re about to tell him to be responsible.

“Do you think you should…”

His hands drop from where they’d been enthusiastically positioned mid-air.

“They’ll be fine if I’m late from lunch one time. I’m usually more punctual than any of them.”

You roll your lip between your teeth—it’s not that you want to tell him to go; in fact, those delusions you’ve been harboring about your future life together are only getting worse with each inexplicable minute he entertains your company.

But his job is important.

“What if you have a case?”

“Then I would have gotten more calls from more people by now.”

Your head tips back as you laugh lightly at his unwavering insistence.

“I’m flattered that you so enjoy my company that much. But I can’t with good conscience keep taking up your work hours like this.”

As the laughter fades, he just… watches you, lips slightly parted, eyes intense but not entirely present.

“You’re probably right,” he finally breathes. “Maybe… you should start taking up my other hours, instead?”

Spencer Reid, you unexpected charmer.

You balk.

“Like… we would hang out? At a different time of day? Not here?”

“Those are the basic premises, yes,” he chuckles, nodding affably. “I’ve never actually seen you anywhere else. For all I know you could be a ghost eternally tethered to this building.”

“Where would this hanging out take place?”

Fuck, you’re totally being weird. His brow knits.

“I don’t know. Where else do people hang out?”

He’s not genuinely asking you, he’s gently turning you in the right direction. You charge forward blindly.

“Restaurants.”

There’s that pretty smile of his again, the one that makes all the thoughts drain from your head like cold bathwater. Though, there’s a sort of mischievous edge to it now that you haven't seen before.

“That’s certainly an option. If I asked you to hang out with me at a restaurant... would you say yes?”

You look down. God, your face feels warm.

“Would you be asking me out on a date? In this hypothetical scenario that we’ve constructed, I mean.”

Spencer seems to think about it for a moment, which fills you with unexpected panic. When you look back up anxiously, he has the same smile on his face, but his eyes are a little softer now.

“I would.”

More panic sets in—just a bit. But you don’t let what is undoubtedly a tidal wave of anxiety break through the emotional guard-dam. Keep it together. This is a good thing. This is what you wanted.

Unfortunately, you are perhaps more transparent than you’d realized. Spencer begins to look slightly worried, leaning forward in his chair.

“You don’t have to say yes. I know we don’t know each other very well, I just—”

“No!” You find yourself assuring him, though you curse yourself because you kind of want to know what he was going to say. “I would say yes. I’ve just, um—god,” you laugh gustily, self-consciously. “Sorry I’m being so weird. I’m out of my depth. Nobody’s asked me on a date before. I don’t really know the etiquette.”

Spencer chuckles.

“You’re doing great. Don’t worry about it.”

Not, what?

Not, you’ve never been on a date before?

Not, that’s crazy, or that’s weird, or how have you gone your whole life without being asked out?

With the implication being, you’re odd. Different. Maybe not in a good way.

He says none of that.

“But I should probably actually ask you, huh?” His cheeks turn pink as his laughter is redirected inwards.

“Sounds like a good first step.”

Spencer is still smiling as he says your name and it sounds so good from his mouth. It makes you sound so real.

“Will you go on a date with me?”

Butterflies in your stomach doesn't begin to brush what you're experiencing—your entire abdominal cavity is like a Monarch sanctuary.

“I’d love to.”

He seems genuinely relieved as he beams, slumping back in his chair.

“Oh, thank god. I was so nervous you’d say no. I never do that. Thank you for not saying no. Not that you couldn’t have said no—it would have been completely fine and obviously within your rights to—”

His phone rings again. Both of you are relieved that he was interrupted—but admittedly you thought his rambling was super cute.

“I should—”

“You definitely need to go.”

“Yeah,” he agrees with a still-breathless smile. “Um—what’s your number?”

You look around fruitlessly for pen and paper.

“I don’t—”

“Just tell me. I’ll remember.”

He’s so weird.

A breeze hits your skin as he opens the door. You’re already writing your wedding vows in the back of your mind as you watch him go.

#spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x you #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fic

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cameronspecial · 1 month

Note

Request: Rafe intimidates the shy girl by suggesting she sits on his lap during a night out with mutual friends; feeling unable to refuse, she complies, but struggles to focus on conversation as his hard-on presses against her.

Musical Chairs

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: Saying something is gay, Manipulation, Rafe forcing Y/N to sit on his lap, and Sexual undertones

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 0.7K

Masterlist

Y/N doesn’t normally go out partying with Kim, especially out to the club. However, Kim begged her to come today because Kim wanted to try to hook up with Kelce tonight. So far, Kim has had no luck with getting Kelce’s attention because Rafe is always taking over his friend’s attention. Kim hopes that Y/N will be able to keep Rafe distracted long enough for Kim to make her move. This is why the timid girl finds herself in the loud and dizzying establishment. Topper and Rafe are deep in conversation while Kim and Kelce are getting everyone drinks at the bar. Rafe is sitting on the right side edge of the u-shaped booth, while Topper sits beside him and Y/N sits beside Topper. The only empty spot left is the one to her side, which is the other end of the booth. Kelce and Kim soon return to the booth and Kim sees the seating predicament. Kim motions for Y/N to move out of her spot. Not wanting to argue, she slides out of the booth and moves herself to the bar stool at the table. The two patrons with the drinks get into the booth and the conversation returns. Ten minutes later, Mac comes over and daps all of the boys. Mac looks around for a seat to hang out, but finds none.

Rafe notices this search and flicks his chin toward Y/N, “Just take Little Mouse’s chair.” Her eyebrows knit together. She normally wouldn’t speak up, except she doesn’t think it is fair that she has to move again. “Why do I have to play musical chairs again? Why can’t he just squeeze into the booth with your guys?” she protests with her arms crossed. Rafe chuckles, “Because it would be gay for all four of us guys to be sitting in cramped together and even more gay if he sits on my lap.”

“Who is going to sit on your lap?”

“You are. God, sometimes you can be so dumb, Little Mouse. Makes me wonder what you are learning from all those books you are always reading.”

“I’m not going to sit on your lap, Rafe.”

“Yes, you are. Look, Mac is getting tired, standing there while we argue about this. He worked all day and now, he can’t even sit down. You really want to be the reason why he is in pain, Little Mouse?”

Her eyes glance over to Mac and he gets the message from Rafe to play along. His shoulders sag. Falling for the trick by letting guilt overwhelm her, Y/N gets up from her chair and offers it to Mac. Nevertheless, she still refuses to sit on Rafe’s lap. She chooses, instead, to stand at the side and look around the club. Rafe scoffs, tired of her ridiculousness and takes matters into his own hands. His hands fall on her hips, bringing her over to sit on his lap. She yips at the movement and struggles a little to get away from him. His arm comes across her front like a bar, so she is locked against his lap. Eventually, she tires herself out and complies with his wishes to sit there. She stays quiet in the conversation while everyone else seems to be content with spreading gossip. A few minutes later, she is now sitting on something hard that causes her cheeks to heat up and her heartbeat to pick up. Rafe notices her change of behaviour and a smirk crosses his face.

“What do you think, Little Mouse? Are Stephanie and Clarkson going to last or is he going to find out she is cheating on him soon?”

She knows he asked her a question, yet the only thoughts going through her head are related to the phallic shape pressing against her butt. Her bottom wiggles against him in uncomfortableness, causing him to let out a low chuckle. The others grow impatient waiting for her answer and fill the silence themselves. Although everyone has moved on from Y/N, Rafe is still focused on her. “If you think it feels good now, wait until it is inside of you, Little Mouse. I promise it will make you feel out of this world,” he murmurs against her ear.

Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @wickedlovely121 @thepatriarchykeychain @drewsmusee @starkowswife @maybankslover @forstarkey @loving-and-dreaming

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syddsatyrn · 2 months

Note

heyyyy i didn’t know if requests were open so you can just ignore this if they aren’t-

can i get some alastor smut?:) just gen stuff

Redemption By Sydd Satyrn

⛧Pairing: - Alastor x Reader

⛧Warnings: Shameless smut, some dubcon, dom/sub, p in v, praise kink, toxic relationship, creampie, Alastor owns your soul, 18+ Minors DNI

⛧Words: 1k ⛧Notes: I gotchu! My request are open! Please read my rules before you send one!

This wasn't the first time you’ve been in this situation. You’ve been seeing the shadows follow you all day, they whispered about you, watching your every move. This means that Alastor wants you home as soon as possible. When you finally walk through the front door of the hotel, the other patrons are staring at you. The mass of black shadows creeping behind you was unsettling, even for them. You quickly made your way to the elevator and pressed the button for the top floor. You were used to it by now, having your every move observed. You just wished that instead of sending a hoard of shadows after you, he would get a cell phone and just text you.

As you exit the Elevator you walk down the red-carpeted hallway to Alastors radio tower. When you open the door you can feel his sinister presence take over the air. Alastor was typing out some notes for his next radio broadcast. He doesn't even look at you at first, keeping focus on his typewriter, the keys clacking as you stand there. Your heart raced, and your palms started to sweat.

“You’re late…” Alastor says, a tinge of anger in his voice.

“I’m sorry, I got caught up.”

“For two hours?! Do you take me for a fool?!” He raises his voice, and a glowing green collar attached to a chain appears around your neck out of thin air. Alastor holds the other end of the chain, pulling you closer to him. Only a few centimeters separate his lips from yours, his eyes are locked on yours, and you can't look away. “I’ve been in need of your assistance, and you leave me waiting? Tsk tsk.” He tuts and moves a few stray hairs away from your face.

“I-I’m s-sorry…” You choke out, he softly caresses your face with a wicked smile.

"You think you can beg your way out of this? My dear, you underestimate me.”

“I’ll make it up to you, I promise…” You plea, but this kind of behavior never works on Alastor.

“Promises are easy to make, my dear. Why don’t we see if you can deliver on yours?" Alastor says with a depraved look in his eyes.

His lips met yours in a fervent collision, igniting a blaze of desire that consumed you. He kept the chain wrapped around one hand as the other roamed your body, hungry for more. Every touch, every caress fuels something in you, Alastor is the only one who can bring out this primal side of you that you hide so well.

You immediately give in and start to unbutton his shirt while he takes over your mouth. His tongue dances with yours as he groans into the kiss. He breaks away, grabs the collar around your neck, and drags you to his desk. Alastor bends you over rather forcefully and you yelp as your torso hits the desk.

Alastor growls as he presses his clothed cock against your ass. “Are you ready for your redemption, darling?” He says followed by a low growl. Your breath hitched and you nod, Alastor has a menacing look on his face. He quickly pulls your skirt down along with your panties to reveal your wet cunt.

“My, my…you’re already prepared.” He says while digging his claws into your hips.

Alastor unbuckles his pants, pulling them down a bit to free his cock. You feel the tip of his length tease your wet hole before slowly pushing his way inside. You whimper and squirm a bit, trying to adjust to his size.

Alastor begins to thrust in and out with force, he lets out a low growl. You cry out in pleasure as Alastor pounds your soaking wet cunt, the desk slams into the wall causing you to yelp. Alastor pulls the chain connected to your collar, making you arch your back further, causing him to reach even deeper. You begin to tear up a bit as you let out a mix of whimpers and moans. Alastor leans in closer to your ear and begins to whisper.

"That's my good girl." He whispers, it sends shivers up your spine. The line between pleasure and pain is really thin when you and Alastor get intimate. You enjoy it but you also hate it, a mix of emotions that you can't seem to sort out. Alastor is relentless, you feel the knot in your stomach tighten as he fucks you deeper and deeper. You are starting to see stars as you get closer and closer, Alastor's claws drag down your back leaving bright red marks. You wince and grip the edge of the desk like your life depends on it. Alastor's eyes roll to the back of his head as he moans, thrusting his cock into you as deep as possible as he cums, you soon follow as you release onto his throbbing cock. You moan something that sounds like his name, your body begins to tremble as you find that sweet release. These are the moments that make you wonder if this is really a punishment at all.

The chain around your neck disappears and Alastor removes himself from your cunt. You slowly push yourself up, your legs shaking, and turn around to see him buckling his belt and fixing his tie. You locate your clothes and attempt to put them back on despite how wobbly you are. "Are you satisfied?" You ask a tinge of attitude in your voice. "For now." He says with a sinister grin. He's been waiting around for her all morning, he was starting to get impatient and needy before you showed up. Alastor is always a mystery, a danger that lurks in the shadows. The deal you made with him isn't always convenient, but it was better than the previous outcome. He motions for you to come to him, and you obey. He holds your face in his hands and leans down to press a gentle kiss to your cheek. Your face turns a shade of pink, surprised by his actions.

He whispers softly in your ear. “Until next time, my darling~”

#alastor #alastor smut #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel smut #alastor x reader #alastor x you #alastor the radio demon #alastor x y/n #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin hotel #hazbin smut #alastor radio demon #alastor hazbin hotel #the radio demon

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subbmissivesuccubus · 6 months

Text

No secrets around here ~

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thank you all so much for 1K followers <3 <3 <3 I am undeserving but very appreciative. I am working on Bully Part 3 but please have this one shot as a token of my love.

It's a story suggested by my patron! If you'd like to suggest prompts for me to write, please consider checking out my patreon (link in bio) <3

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Summary : Satoru and Suguru find out that their sweet, seemingly innocent girlfriend writes smutty fanfiction. They decide to make her fantasies come true while also making sure to teach her that keeping secrets from them have consequences <3

Contains : Fem reader. Established relationship. Degradation. Threesome M/M/F. Gojo and Geto being mean but with love. A bit meta.

“Dude- Suguru- SUGURU!”

“Stop yelling, Satoru.” The raven-haired man whined, rubbing a hand over his face as he was barely awake, “You better be dying if you’re calling me at 3 in the morning.”

“Oh, trust me, you’ll wanna hear what I say.”

“Get to the point.”

“Ok, so you know how every time we visit our cutie, she’s super protective of her phone?”

“…Yeah.”

“And how she immediately shuts her laptop close if we walk in?”

“…Yeah.”

“I found out why. I just sent you a link.”

Satoru hung up and Suguru groaned, looking his phone annoyance before the ding of a message received rang out. He raised an eyebrow as he read the message, the link opening upto a website called…tumblr? He was aware of the site but it never interested him enough to truly put any effort into finding out more about it. He also knew of the concept of fanfiction (thanks to a certain someone) and knew that Tumblr had a lot of creators posting their fanmade content.

But he had no idea it was…something like this.

Reader is being a brat and gets put in her place – Fem Reader X Demon Slayer men.

Where the men of One-Piece love to cum <3

Dick headcannons, a.k.a. who among the Honkai men are packing~

Suguru scoffed as he scrolled down the posts, surprised at how lewd this author was. Their writing was filthy and degenerate yet written fairly well. If he wasn’t so sleepy, Suguru was sure he could jerk off to a story or two. The comments under the posts were just as feral, people going crazy over the fanfictions, often proclaiming their desire to be with these…fictional men? He didn’t quite understand it but who was he to judge.

He paused as he read the title of a post, letting out a hum as the title hit a bit close to home.

Reader gets pounded roughly by her two boyfriends.

It was a post with thousands of notes which got Suguru curious. He clicked on the tag labelled #two boyfriends and was surprised to see several stories written by the author of the reader having two lovers and their sexual escapades together:

Reader gets both her holes stuffed with cock. Or the two boyfriends compete to see who can get her to squirt first. Reader is spanked silly and can’t sit properly for days. As punishment, the two boyfriends overstimulate the reader for hours, making her cum over and over again even as she begged them to stop.

The list went on and on and on, making the blood rush to Suguru’s cheeks at how raw and filthy and…desperate these fanfictions were.

His phone dinged, a message from Satoru which reminded the black-haired man of how he wound up here to begin with. So there are some smutty fiction online, but what does it have to do with you? He could only come up with one conclusion but…that couldn’t be it. Right?

Satoru <3 : Did you see all the two boyfriends fics?

Me : Yeah. You’re not saying that…she wrote all of this, are you?

Suguru waited with bated breath as the three dots danced on his screen, Satoru typing out the answer. You were someone who refused to even curse in daily conversation! There was no way… He choked as he got a response, Satoru simply saying:

What do you say we show our baby how much better her real boyfriends are?

~~~~~

“Boys!” you whined as Suguru and Satoru stuck close to you, one on either side, “I’m trying to cook here!” “We’re not stopping you!” Satoru said with a pout as he placed his cheek on top of your hair, “We just wanna be close to our baby. Is that so bad?” “Exactly.” Suguru purred as a hand came up to wrap around your waist, pressing himself close to you, “Is loving you such a crime?”

You rolled your eyes at their theatrics. One thing worse than having one dramatic boyfriend would be having two. Not that you were complaining, of course. How on Earth could you be upset over having the two most powerful sorcerers be your lovers? It sometimes felt like a dream- that these two had fallen in love with you and were over by your place for a domestic night of homecooked food and movies. They were more clingy than usual, a hand or lips always on your body at all times. You caught them exchanging glances with each other once in awhile but you simply ignored it. It wasn’t the first time your men had this telepathic communication going on between them. As long as they weren’t planning on pranking you, you decided to simply focus on the meal you were cooking.

“So, babe,” Satoru purred as he placed a kiss to the crown of your head, “You’re on Tumblr a lot, right?”

You scoffed, “You know I am. Why’d you ask? You finally wanna join?”

“I sure do!” he responded, “And if you had told me about all the porn that was on that website, I would have joined sooner.”

“Porn?” you repeated, confused, “What are you talking about? It doesn’t allow-”

“All of that smutty fanfiction- I was up all night reading them!”

You froze, hoping that the two of them didn’t notice. “Oh, uh, yeah there’s a lot of that.”

“And, you know, we found this…writer.” Suguru said, his voice dripping like honey as his hand ran up and down your waist, “Who writes the most…filthy things. Degradation, spankings, brat taming, not to mention threesomes between two men and a woman. Kind of similar to us, right?”

You gulped, trying to focus on your food even though your mind was running a mile. Did they know? How did they find out? You were so careful of your things! You always made sure to have an eye on your phone and laptop so how did they…

“Well, only the threesome parts.” Satoru said, “We’re not nearly as kinky as the people in those stories. We could be, of course, but we wouldn’t want to scare our baby with how…intense we can be, right?”

“Of course.” Suguru purred, leaning forward to kiss your temple, his lips soft against your skin, “Our sweet princess is so innocent and vanilla. How on Earth can we treat her like the girls in those smutty, dirty stories? We have to make love to her like the Queen she is. There’s no way our baby would like to be punished or have her pussy filled until she’s bred.”

“Exactly.” Satoru said, noting the way your breathing was quickening, smiling as he saw your ears turn red, “Unless…there’s something she’s not telling us.” You gasped as his hand trailed down your back, making you shiver before it landed on your ass. You mewled as he grabbed a cheek harshly, his fingers digging into your plush skin, both of them so close to you that you could feel their hot breath against your burning face.

“So, sweetheart.” Suguru said, a twinkle in his eye as he turned off the heat of the stove, gently taking your utensils out of your hands, “Anything you’d like to share?”

You gulped, Satoru squeezing you greedily and making it difficult for you to form sentences, “H-How did you find out?”

“Well, I might have peeked at your phone when you left it unlocked yesterday.” Satoru confessed, “I wasn’t planning on looking but when I saw the notification of someone begging you to write more of your threesome content, well, curiosity got the better of me.”

“Our baby has such naughty fantasies,” Suguru said, not giving you a chance to respond “But she kept it all to herself like a bad little girl. Why didn’t you tell us?” he leaned down to nibble at your ear, loving the cute yelp you let out, “Did you think we’d judge you?”

“I- I don’t know…” you mumbled, face so red it felt like steam was coming out your ears, “It’s…embarrassing- ah!” Suguru moved downwards and kissed your neck, his teeth digging into the sensitive patch of your skin, making you cry out loud. Satoru pouted before he let go of your ass, only to swing his hand down and give your butt a sharp slap, making you yell loudly.

“We could have been fucking you like the dirty slut you are, but instead, we held ourselves back because we didn’t want to scare you off.” Satoru growled, his hand making its way to your hair, grabbing a handful before he pulled harshly. You gasped as your head was tossed back, your boyfriends face looking down on you as his grip on your hair continued to be tight and unforgiving.

“Every time we fuck you- we’ve wanted to go wild.” Suguru confessed, his large hand slipping into your shirt, making you shiver as he touched your bare skin, “So next time, just be honest and save us the trouble, hmm?”

“You’re going to make it up to us.” Satoru said, leaning down to kiss your lips, a quick peck before he pulled away, a dark look in his eyes, “Get ready. We’re making those fantasies come true.”

~~~~~

Your hands trembled, instinctively tugging at the handcuffs that held you tight against the headboard. The cool metal dug into your skin, showing no signs of letting up. Hands handcuffed above your bed, naked as the day you were born, you were at the mercy of your two men and they made sure of that.

Suguru giggled at your cute little yelp as he increased the speed of the vibrator, his grip of the wand tightening before he pressed it down harder on your clit. You screamed around Satoru’s cock, the man’s dick shoved down your throat, making you gag. He was practically straddling your head, knees on either side of your shoulders while Suguru sat between your spread legs, their eyes greedily taking in your nakedness.

“Yeah? You like that?” Satoru asked, looking down at you with a teasing grin on his face, sweat dripping down his brow. He was naked, veins throbbing in his arms as he gripped onto the headboard tightly, rolling his hips into your face, groaning at the sensation of you trying your best to take his fat dick. “You like that vibrator on your slutty little pussy, don’t you? Hmm? Like having my cock down your throat?” he asked, pausing his thrusting for a second to fully press his cock deep inside you, laughing as he felt you gag loudly around him.

“Oh, she loves it~” Suguru purred, dick aching in his boxers (wearing nothing but his underwear) as he ground the wand vibrator against you, mercilessly attacking your clit, “Her cunt is dripping~”

“Poor baby~ You must be so pent up since we’ve been making love to you like you were a princess. Guess we have to fuck you like a whore, hmm?” Satoru asked, biting his lower lip as he started thrusting into your mouth again. His muscles tensed, tossing his head back to moan as your sweet little tongue lapped at the underside of his cock, his heavy balls pressing against your chin every time he thrust.

“Stay. Still.” Suguru said with a click of his tongue as one arm gripped onto your knee tightly, the other still torturing you with the vibrator, “Keep moving your legs like that and I’ll punish you.”

You whined, your sounds taken by Satoru’s member, your body getting overstimulated. With a fat cock down your throat and Suguru playing with your pussy, you couldn’t help but start trembling, trying to push your legs together to give yourself a break from the onslaught on your cunt- but Suguru was having none of that.

He ignored your yelp as he pulled the vibrator away, taking away your pleasure so suddenly. But you barely had time to process that as he raised his hand and brought it down on your pussy, giving it a harsh, tight slap. You screamed from the pain, the vibrations of your mouth making Satoru moan as Suguru started spanking your pussy again and again. Slap after slap rained down on your cunt, the raven-haired man holding one leg tightly by the ankle while pushing away the other with his knee, truly keeping you spread as he spanked your pussy.

Your whole body writhed from the pain, the stinging sensation of Suguru marking your puffy pussy lips red. Your hands struggled against the handcuffs even more, your torso tossing and turning, Satoru giving you some mercy as he gently pulled his cock out of your mouth.

“Sorry! Fuck- I’m sorry- I’m sorry!” you pleaded through your gasps and coughs, and crying as Suguru slapped your cunt so hard it made you dizzy for a second, “Please- no more!”.

“No more what?”

“No more spankings- P-Please! Please don’t s-spank my p-pussy!” you begged, ears turning red from the embarrassment. You heard Satoru giggle above you, the man clearly more sadistic than you ever imagined as he tugged at his member, enjoying the scene of his best friend breaking you down perfectly. Even him touching himself right in front of you was torturous, your eyes homing in on the precum dripping out of his red tip, his cock covered in your saliva.

“I thought you liked it, baby.” Suguru said, taking some mercy on you as he gently rubbed your cunt, easing some of the burn, “Your characters get their pussy’s spanked so often. Don’t you feel bad for them if it hurts so much?”

“I didn’t- I didn’t know.” You sobbed, “It hurts- fuck- but it hurts so good!”

“Fuuuck Baby!” Satoru groaned, gripping the base of his cock tightly, his face red and excited, “Almost came from that~ I love seeing you look so pathetic for us.”

You whimpered, turning your face to feel Satoru’s warmth as he gently wiped a tear away from your eye. Suguru chuckled, leaning down to place a kiss to your cunt, your skin hot against his lips. Your back arched as he ran his tongue up your pussy, the man groaning as he tasted your slick, drinking you down like a drug.

“Oh~ I want a taste of that pussy too~” Satoru purred before he changed his position. Your eyes widened as he turned around, adjusting himself so his cock was once again over your face only now, he was facing your pussy in a classic 69. “Open up, princess.” He said, smirking as he pushed his cock into your mouth just as you opened your lips, “Suck my cock while we- oh yeah- play with this pussy~”

Satoru grabbed the back of your thighs, holding onto you tightly as he dipped his head between your legs, Suguru moving out of the way so his friend could mouth at your pussy. You squealed around his cock, the man already starting to thrust as he wrapped his lips around your clit before he sucked harshly. “Mmmph- fuck yes~” he moaned, lightly picking up the pace as he once again started fucking your throat, “This pussy is so fucking tasty~”

He opened his mouth wide and started flicking his tongue on your clit, letting out a lewd sound as he tortured your sensitive bud with his tongue. Not one to sit idly by, Suguru allowed his friend to tongue your cunt while he gently slid a finger inside you.

“Look at that. My finger went in so easily, baby.” Suguru said as he gently thrust the finger in and out of you, “This isn’t enough for you, is it?”

You whined around Satoru’s cock, unable to respond. But they understood. Suguru slid a second finger inside you, the slick sound of your cunt parting for him echoing through the air lewdly. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as he curled his fingers inside you just right, pussy gushing from the sensation. Satoru was still licking at your clit, giving your bud the occasional nibble to keep you on edge.

“Oh, you like that, don’t you?” Suguru asked as he watched Satoru lick you up, his own fingers drenched, your juices dripping down, “Cock in your mouth as we play with your pussy like you’re our little toy~ Our sweet little fuck toy we can use?”

Your toes curled and your muscles tensed, opening your throat up as much as possible as Satoru mercilessly face fucked you, his balls slapping against you as he chased his pleasure. The metal of the handcuffs dug into your skin, your fingers clenching around nothing as you were driven closer and closer to your orgasm.

You were so close you could taste it, your mind descending into nothing but pleasure, the two men perfectly breaking you down into the slut they know you are. You fantasised about them as you wrote your fanfiction and for it to actually be coming true- you didn’t know how to handle it.

You were so close- so close! Your body tightened and your pussy clenched around Suguru’s fingers, the familiar sensation of an orgasm making itself known. You already knew this would be one of the strongest climaxes you’d experience and it almost scared you. But you were ready. You wanted this. You needed this. You needed them!

Your moans picked up the pace, getting louder and louder around Satoru’s cock, still obediently sucking him off as your body trembled. You were gonna cum! Cumming- cumming-

Only for them to stop.

You let out a scream as Satoru pulled his cock out of your mouth, both of them able to hear your shouts. You arched off the bed, your body trembling from the sudden absence of pleasure, your legs kicking at the mattress like a toddler as you writhed on the bed.

“Why? Why- I was so close- so close!” you sobbed, tugging at the handcuffs in a desperate attempt to touch yourself, only for it to be futile.

“Aww, poor princess.” Satoru cooed, kneeling over you still, his cock dripping your saliva back onto his face lewdly, “did you really think it would be that easy?”

“We’re going to edge you all night.” Suguru said, finally undoing his boxers before pushing it off, getting completely naked, “It’s your punishment for keeping your sluttiness a secret from us.”

You could barely muster up a protest as you were distracted by Suguru’s cock. His cock was just as beautiful as Satoru’s- long, thick and oh so delicious. He took your breath away everytime he got inside you, his skills rendering you a whining mess.

“If you try and cum without us knowing,” Suguru said, knowing your body like the back of your hand and well aware that you were close to your orgasm, “You’re going to be in a world of pain. Now come on. Beg for it.” He started teasingly slapping your pussy with his member, each strike making you twitch, “You know how to beg, right? Your characters beg so sweetly in your stories- I’m sure you can do it too~”

You gulped, mouth drooling and pussy trembling, their hard cocks right in front of you but refusing to get inside you. “P-Please.” You pleaded, feeling a rush of shame overcome you by uttering the word. “Do better than that.” Suguru said, his hand now on his member and lightly stroking it, showing you what you were missing out on. “I- Fuck- I need you! Both of you!” you said desperately. “Keep going~” Satoru purred, his tip just a hairs breath away from your lips, also close to orgasm, “what do you need?” “I need- fuck- I need your c-cocks!” you begged, tears in your eyes as you shamelessly conveyed your desires, “I need you inside me- I need you to fuck me!” “Good girl.” Suguru said, groaning as he finally- finally- started to push inside you, “And remember. No cumming.”

You tossed your head back, eyes rolling to the back of your head as Suguru started spreading you apart, inch after inch burying into your sopping cunt. It was a delicious sensation, his cock stretching you out wonderfully, his thick cock giving you a nice burn. Suguru hissed as his dick was enveloped in your tight wetness, the texture of your pussy walls hugging it perfectly. His balls clenched and he knew he wouldn’t last long- the feeling of finally being able to treat you like the kinky slut you were driving him to the edge. They don’t call him a pleasure dom for nothing.

Without even saying anything, Satoru took advantage of your open mouth to jam his dick back inside your mouth, laughing at the surprised yelp and loud gag you let out. “I’m close baby~” he moaned as he was surrounded by your addicting heat again, “Make sure you drink it all when I cum down this slutty mouth pussy~”

They both started to fuck you mercilessly at once. And all you could do was lie there and take it. Suguru made you wrap your legs against his waist, leaning into you as he started pounding your cunt, balls slapping against you each time he thrust into you. Your pussy was so wet and hot- the sensation like a drug as he pounded you, his cock slamming against your cervix with each thrust.

“Fuck- I love this fucking pussy!” he groaned, tossing his head back as he mercilessly pounded you, chasing his pleasure, “So perfect for us- so greedy and desperate- want to fucking ruin you!”

“Mmm~ I can’t wait to fuck this slutty cunt~” Satoru said between moans, fucking down on your mouth as a hand came up to spread apart your pussy lips, giving him a perfect view of Suguru fucking your hole. “Pass me the vibrator, will you?”

You yelped, knowing exactly what he had planned as Satoru got a hold of the vibrator, switched it on before he placed it against your clit. You screamed around his cock, body thrashing at the overstimulation. The toy rubbed against your clit, the speed on the highest setting, making your vision blurry as he assaulted your sensitive bud.

“Fuck- oh yeah- that’s fucking great!” Suguru moaned, the vibration of the toy giving him added pleasure as well, “she tightened around me so much- fuck- slutty little pussy!”

You were in heaven and hell. The two men were using you in such a filthy fashion, making your body tremble from the intense pleasure. Suguru was fucking you so perfectly, his cock hitting your g-spot every time he thrust into you, your pleasure heightened by Satoru playing with your clit. He’d use the toy or sometimes even lean down to lick at your clit again, his hair brushing against Suguru’s abdomen every time he thrust forward. They were both so desperate and horny for you and it was amazing.

But, every time you were close, they’d stop.

You didn’t even need to say it- your moans and your body language was enough for them to know when you were about to cum and every time, without fail, they’d ruin your orgasm. Suguru would pull out and Satoru would stop playing with your clit, opting to slap your pussy and call it a ‘bad cunt’ as he took your climax away from you. Suguru once pinched your clit so harshly you swore you blacked out. Once they thought you weren’t going to cum, they’d get back into it.

“Oh baby!” Satoru moaned, finally reaching his climax. He forgoed the toy and instead focused on fucking your face, wanting to cum, “I’m close! Yes! Yes! Oh you naughty little minx! We’re going to have so much fucking fun with you!”

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you got pounded from both ends- your jaw beyond sore. With a few more thrusts, Satoru finally came. He tossed his head back and moaned loudly, his cock lodged as deep as it could go inside you. He started to cum down your throat, giving you no choice but to drink it all up. You could feel his balls clench against you as he came, his hot seed pouring down your throat, warming you up from the inside.

“Ohhh yesss!” Satoru moaned, his body shuddering as he gently thrust his hips, milking his balls of every drop, “That’s it- oh yes~ That’s a good slut~”

You gagged around him, struggling to breathe and to drink down his cum, happy to have given him pleasure but distracted by Suguru still pounding into you. You were waiting for Satoru to get off of you and give your jaw some peace but…

He once again got his face close to your pussy, resting his elbows on the mattress and his chin on his hands as he stared like a pervert as Suguru fucking your cunt.

“Enjoying the show?” Suguru asked with a laugh, his body running a bit hotter at Satoru staring.

“Mmhmm,” Satoru said with a smile before he addressed you, “Keep cockwarming me, baby. Get me hard again so I can fuck this pussy next~”

Oh. Oh God.

“Fuck- I’m close!” Suguru groaned through gritted teeth, “And she’s close too- I can feel it!”

“Yeah?” Satoru asked, rolling his hips in a circle as he leisurely enjoyed your mouth like it was a fleshlight, “Should we let her cum? She’s been such a good girl for us.”

You whined around him, feeling like this entire night was you whining, trying your best to beg around Satoru’s cock in your mouth. You could feel him grow harder inside you, the sadist loving the fact that he made you so pathetic.

“Nah.” Suguru said, sweating as he pounded you mercilessly, “Not yet.”

“You hear that, baby?” Satoru asked, “You better not cum~”

You sobbed, tears pouring down your cheeks as they decided to continue torturing you.

“You gonna cum inside her?” Satoru asked his friend, knowing him well enough to know he was about to cum. “Fuck- I want to so fucking badly but- I don’t think she deserves it yet!” “Awww, the poor thing. She has such a huge breeding kink too!” “I know. Fuck- I’d love to dump inside this cunt and breed her but- fuck- I still think she needs to learn her lesson! Naughty little sluts who keep things from their boyfriends gets fucking punished! Oh fuck- yes- cumming- I’m cumming!”

With a shout, once again denying you your orgasm, Suguru quickly pulled out of you with the intention of finishing on you. “Fuck- Satoru!” Suguru moaned as the white haired man suddenly grabbed his member and started jerking him off. Satoru laughed at Suguru’s moans, his hand almost a blur as he jacked off his best friend, aiming the tip right at your pussy. In a matter of seconds, Suguru let out a loud moan as he came, tossing his head back as the pleasure hit him like a truck. He trembled as ropes and ropes of cum shot out of his cock, his balls clenching with each pump as he came all over your pussy. He stained your cunt white, making you whine as all of that cum wasn’t pumped inside you.

“Oh~ Look at all that cum on this pretty pussy~” Satoru moaned, letting go of Suguru to instead pet at your pussy, his fingers rubbing the cum into your skin before he collected a bit of it on his fingers to shove inside you. You gasped, body still on edge, your mind a mess of pleasure and humiliation as Satoru stuffed his friends cum into your pussy. He took some mercy on you and pulled his cock out of your mouth, enjoying your gasps and moans as you took in deep breaths, choking on your own spit as he got off of you.

“Please!” you begged, crying and you voice hoarse, “Please- Please let me cum! I need it! I’ll do anything!”

“Shhhh, relax, princess.” Suguru cooed as he and Satoru switched places, the white haired man settling between your legs with his cock hard once more, eager to fuck your cunt. You whimpered and cried as Suguru lied down next to you, his dick still hard and ready for more as he leaned down to kiss you, a sweet moment among all the depravity.

His hand gripped a breast, squeezing your boob as he kissed you, slipping his tongue into your mouth and making your body tingle from the sensation. He finally parted just as Satoru slipped his dick inside you, smiling as he watched your eyes water and your jaw drop from the sensation.

“Don’t start crying already, baby.” Suguru said, watching as your body started to bounce up and down from Satoru’s thrusts, Satoru immediately fucking you in a fast pace, “We’ve only just begun~”

#subby writes #jujutsu kaisen smut #gojo x reader x geto #gojo #gojo satoru smut #jujutsu gojo #gojo smut #gojo x reader #jujutsu kaisen geto smut #geto suguru smut #jujutsu geto #geto x reader #geto suguru #geto smut

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yanderenightmare · 5 months

Text

Gojo Satoru

TW: NSFW, yandere, light bondage, dubcon ig

fem reader

Thinking about boyfriend Gojo and how he's the smugest tease ever.

Nose-kissing your pussy through your panties. Looking at you with such playfully mischievous eyes peeled open as though in wait of a whine to spill from your mouth – a small parted smile gracing his lips where damp breaths slip through, hitting your cunt teasingly.

He’s such a jerk. Licking a stripe over the fabric, so light it only tickles. You want to bury your hands in his white locks – either to push him away or closer, you don’t know. All you know is you’re getting wet and warm and embarrassed beyond repair – your hands tied to the bed frame above – trying to refrain from squirming too much, not wanting him to laugh at you.

He places a kiss there then, right where your clit is throbbing for the attention – but it’s such a cruel sensation– so light it’s barely there, just a lingering warmth that makes you clench tight around nothing.

“Ugh- what do you want, 'Toru?” You sourly bite out, a needy whine lacing the words. “Stop being such a goon-”

“A goon?” He chitters in repeat, playfully dancing his fingertips up and down the soft mound. “That’s no way to say please~”

His eyes are lazy with such a patronizing leer you want to wring his neck and make them pop out of his skull – looking back up at him with such a frustrated furrow between your brows.

But your narrowed eyes can only widen, sucking in a curt gasp when his digits add just a tiny amount more pressure – dipping into that place that yearns for the touch so badly you nearly shake when he gives it to you. A shivery breath leaves you, keening for more.

“You want it that badly, huh? So lewd~” He grins with a breathy laugh.

You frown then, growling with flared nostrils – raising your thigh and kneeing him right in that fat bulge still kept hidden in his pants.

He buckles over with a groan, his face falling into the plush pillows of your chest, whimpering while he rested there – whining out a weak-voiced “Mean~” while protecting his throbbing groin with both hands.

But for some odd reason, you’d say his boohoos sounded strangely elated rather than hurt.

He has tears in the corner of his eyes when he melodramatically wobbles back up into the previous perch, looking down at you with a pout.

“That’s no better way to say please…”

When you try kneeing him again, he catches it with his palm and effortlessly pushes it right back down. Tsk-ing his tongue while shaking his head at you.

“Be a good girl now, have patience,” He mouths, bending down to suck your cheek, his fingers finding their way back to your puffy sex, dragging his finger up and down the wet stripe where you’d soaked through. “I’m not done playing with you yet.”

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iwaasfairy · 7 months

Text

┌─ “ ! „ DECAY

tw. ddlg, noncon, daddy kink, dom & sub themes, forced threesome, patronization, manipulation, objectification, size kink wordcount. 4.4k

a/n. ♡ i wish i could have done more about this idea but i gave myself a bit of a word count limit for kinktober but don't be surprised if i end up writing more for this in the future jhydgusgfy i wanted to go more extreme but i was a bit bummed by the self imposed limitations kHdyugs iT IS What it is ily thank you for reading

miya atsumu x fem!reader x miya osamu

You’re pouting somethin’ fierce, and thick crocodile tears bead your lash line like diamonds.

Osamu’s not entirely sure when it started. If it started at all. Maybe things just happened to play out this way, and it was entirely coincidental, a whisper in the grander scheme of your relationship with his brother - all too small to mention. Maybe safer to say, he’s not sure when he started noticing it— but once he began, there was nothing to keep him from seeing it too vividly in every interaction.

You’ve been with Tsumu since your last year together in high school. Stuck with him through thick and thin, every busy month, each and every match and scandal and fallout - and Osamu’s nothing but grateful for that. You make him happy, Hell, even a blind man could see how the blond blossoms open when you’re around. Becoming a more grown, dependable version of himself. Some days Osamu blinks and it’s like his mirror image has far surpassed his own grounded maturity, leaving him behind in the dust. And it’s definitely you that brings that out in him - and he’s grateful.

But — he remembers the early days. More than maybe anyone else, Osamu remembers that it wasn’t always this way. You were definitely more soft and gentle than they were as teens, but you were no shrinking violet either. A decade ago, Atsumu would’ve been caught dead underestimating ya like he does with a glitter in his eye now. Like it’s a game the two of you are clued in on. Osamu’s eyes glide over the scene painted before him, sipping his beer from the couch.

“Aw, pet, you’ve gotta watch where yer goin’. C’mere, did that hurt?” Atsumu is knelt before you, cupping your face between two rough palms, as he kisses up and down your face. Your wobbly sniffles get hidden in his chest when he pulls you in, and rubs your back like you’re a toddler with a scraped knee. Your hands fist into his shirt before you take a deep breath, going up in his warmth. And his twin beams like he’s the happiest man on the planet, before going to pick you up with a bit too much practiced ease.

Osamu’s not against the pda. You’ve always been touchy, and Tsumu’s a clingy bastard at the best of times. “‘M so sorry, baby. Daddy almost walked straight over ya.” It’s more that he has a problem with. He looks away when Atsumu’s hands slide down to grip your ass and squeeze you extra close, looking down for another kiss that you give like it’s been practiced a hundred times. He’s not sure if the slight pout you have on is truly the pain though, or more the embarrassment he can see creep up your ears and cheeks.

“I’m sorry for getting in the way,” you whisper back, and by the time Osamu looks up Atsumu has made it back to the couch with a fresh beer, with you now positioned on his lap and wrapped around him like a baby koala. You don’t look over at him though, barely acknowledging the strange situation. Almost makes him feel like he’s the one that’s out of place, even though he came over on Atsumu’s request. Even though he was invited.

Samu takes another chug of his drink, before raising his brows, leaning in with an attempt to catch your eyes. “Yer not gonna have any? ‘S yer fridge we’re looting.” You only disconnect yourself from Atsumu’s chest to look at him with heat on your cheeks, perfectly treated hair shining as it falls along your shoulders.

“No, thank you. Atsum- uhm- d-daddy doesn’t let me have any unless we’re going out. It makes me get all bloated, so ‘s better I don’t.” Your long lashes flutter, before you smile again, but it doesn’t quite reach your eyes. “I appreciate you looking out for me, Samu.” There’s a beat of silence where his twin seems to give him a look -one he can’t really make out- where Atsumu puts his own beer aside to pull you closer by your hips and wrap his arms around you like you’re best molten to his front. “Hey,” you whisper then, and Atsumu looks up, “can I move? My knees hurt a little like this.”

“‘S that right? Ya wanna turn so you can look at Samu too?” His brilliant smile is almost bright enough to make him ignore the possessive hands that travel too far down when helping you turn, or the almost-subtle groan he lets out when you wiggle back onto his lap. Osamu stares off into the kitchen instead. “You wanna sit ‘n look at someone else ‘cause I won’t do anything. Is daddy not good ‘nough? Maybe I spoil ya a lil’ too rotten.”

“‘M not rotten~, I do like sitting in your lap,” you squeak out almost sadly, starting to leave little pecks all over Atsumu’s lips as if to shut him up. That would probably be good, Osamu thinks. He doesn’t want to consider the possibility that you’re actually tempering him, but it sure does seem like it. “I’m just tired.” And though your voice drops to an almost whisper, he’s too aware of your pouted, glossy lips to not hear every word. Your hands trail through his hair, sliding down his neck with each slow breath. “Just- Daddy, don’t be upset. I’m trying my best.”

You look almost pained to say it, not that his twin cares. “Please don’t get mad.” Anything else passes over Osamu’s head. He just places the empty bottle by his feet and tries to ignore the way you’re now draped onto Atsumu’s lap like you two will start dry humping any second.

“‘M not mad, pretty girl.” The blond grabs two handfuls of ass and rocks your waist against him, making you squeak, before he runs his tongue along his teeth with a noise. “I’m just thinkin’ that I don't want Samu ta see ya like this.”

You whimper when Atsumu’s mouth glides along your jaw and throat, falling back into the couch -crown brushing Osamu’s thigh- when his twin pushes and presses a few kisses down your throat and chest. “Alright, let’s go out.” Then he pulls back flushed, and gets you up along with him. “Before daddy ends up fucking that pretty pussy with a live audience.” He ushers you towards the door with a few pats on your butt. “Go an’ get yer shoes, I’ll tie yer laces for ya, little girl.”

“I- I can really do it myself, ‘s fine.”

It only makes Atsumu puff out his chest, and stare you down with a hungry stare. “Go on, baby. Yer little enough to need my help.” You don’t say anything, but there’s a tense breath of silence that covers the room before you look away with shame written all over your expression.

Osamu’s too speechless to do much but just stare at the side of his brother’s face, who barely shows any emotion other than enjoyment at all. Seriously. It’s not like you to let someone just walk all over you. Or at least, it wasn’t like you, as far as he was concerned. Things have clearly changed. He frowns. “Do ya really have ta talk about ‘er like that when I’m around, stupid Tsumu? Keep it in yer pants, wouldya?”

Instead of the normally snappy reply that he’d expect, the blond just shrugs, tugging at his waistband like the tightness is a little uncomfortable. “Can’t help it. She’s so fuckin’ cute whinin’ and crying out for me.” Brown irises find Osamu’s, and he smiles. “You’d feel the same if ya saw what she can do.” He pats his thighs when you come back from the hall, and holds out his hands. “Come ‘ere, little princess. Daddy’ll dress ya right up.”

Your frilly little implication of a dress is bunched around your hips as he lets you down from another bear hug, and puts on a slight pout. “I’ll be back soon, baby. They need an emergency setter for just an hour of practice. Maybe two.”

“It’s never just one hour.”

The overly whiny request only makes Atsumu glitter more, as his eyes flick down your body and his tongue is caught between his teeth. Truly, the guy has absolutely no decency. This was supposed to be a fun weekend away from work for the three of ya. Not that Atsumu seems bothered by that. After a few seconds he kisses your forehead though, letting you lean into his arms and looking ever so teenie tiny compared to your boyfriend -they’ve both filled out in both size and muscle since high school after all- and it becomes even more apparent when Tsumu squeezes you under his chin. “If ya need anything ya’ll ask Samu, alright? Just pretend he’s me.”

You bat your lashes at him, but let your grip on him slowly be peeled off. “... Okay. Can I have dinner while you’re gone?”

“Hm, sure.” The blond runs his fingers through his hair. “Daddy’s gonna miss ya. I’m not gonna be gone fer long.” Then he eyes him with a grin that Osamu kind of wants to slap off of his cheeks. “Thanks for ‘sittin ‘er.” He doesn’t reply with a smart remark about him treating you like a dog, and just gives a vague hum instead. With that he gives the brunet a quick wave, and gathers his phone and keys on his way to the door. You linger around the entrance a bit longer, before slowly returning to the dinner table with slightly heated cheeks. You tuck your knees to your chest when you sit and reach for one of the side dishes — and he can’t help but say it when the door falls into lock.

“So, what’s all that about?”

“Hm?” Your head drops to the side slightly as you put some pickled radish in your mouth and hum. “Mm, this ‘s really good, Samu! Can I have some?”

“Help yerself,” he nods, and also slides the plates you can’t reach closer. It’s not like he doesn’t understand it at all. You’ve got that sort of puppy-eyes look down, big and round and soft wherever you look, no matter who you’re talking to. It’s the kind of gentleness that calls for protection, and he’s not even the possessive type, but despite that the feeling of being needed sits on his chest and longs to come out. But still. He can’t help but think Atsumu’s overplaying his cards. “Seriously though. You know ya can tell my shitty brother no, right? I’ll straighten ‘em out for ya.”

The words seem to process for a moment, before you load some more food onto your utensils and swallow it with a little noise of thoughtfulness. “I- I don’t know. Atsumu says he likes being the provider. At first it was just little stuff he helped with, and I thought it was nice to be cared for.” You fumble a little with the chopsticks when a piece of fish is extra slippery, and smile when he helps you out and picks it up, carrying it towards your mouth. “You don’t know how long it’s been since I’ve fed myself instead of Tsumu doing it for me,” you softly mention. That’s weird, ain’t it? That’s definitely weird.

Still he’s carrying the food to your mouth, and be it instinct, or habit, you look too fuckin’ sweet waiting like a puppy for him to help out, big, doe-eyes and all.

You let the piece onto your tongue, before wrapping those pretty lips around and gratefully humming and — fuck. You don’t notice the way his brow ticks, but his stomach rolls with the realization. Instead of lingering too long on the implication that he might feel the same exact way as his twin, he lets you talk, after chewing for a while. “I just- I don’t like that he doesn’t ever take me seriously anymore. He thinks I can’t do anything by myself, even brushing my own teeth, or picking out clothes! It’s so- so frustrating-” you continue until you run out of air, and seem to suddenly realize who you’re talking to. “Oh, don’t tell Atsumu that. Please don’t tell him. He gets so upset and I don’t like it when he’s mad.”

Samu can’t help but just nod in agreement, not sure what else to say. He doesn’t think his brother would ever hurt ya. Then again, Samu also didn’t think his brother was much of a kink lifestyle sort of guy until the last few months— so clearly he doesn’t know everything anymore. And you seem… okay with it, right? He’s not sure, really. Would he even have the guts to tell Tsumu off if he was sure you weren’t? Instead of lingering on that uncomfortable possibility, he pivots. “Let’s watch somethin’? What do ya wanna see?”

Your eyes shimmer when they flick up, and you swallow before smiling. “Can I choose?” You wiggle in your seat. “Atsumu -w-well- daddy doesn’t let me watch scary stuff, but I’ve been dying to watch the Ring again.” You then lean into his space a little more, and he feels his heart skip a beat. “I assume I don’t have to snuggle up to you though? He did say to pretend you’re him but…” You wrap your thin sweater a little closer. “I’ll hold your hand? He can’t get mad that way.”

How can he say no when you’re staring at him with those fucken stars in your eyes? His fingers find yours on the table, and your hand feels way smaller and softer than his own work-worn ones. “Yeah, sure. But ya shouldn’t watch nothin’ ta give ya nightmares though…” The urge to pick you up and wrap you nice and safe in his embrace becomes stronger by the second, and his eyebrows furrow.

Atsumu is quick to descend on you in the safety of the separate room. His hands glide down your sides and hike up your shirt over your arms, before running his fingertips down the valley of your breasts. “Samu was nice to ya?”

“Mhm,” you bop your head a few times, shivering when the cooler air peaks your nipples and Tsumu brushes his thumb over them. “He was- r-really- ah daddy, that tickles.” Your voice trembles when he eyes you down, before letting his fingers trail down to your shorts instead. He motions your butt up and you lift yourself politely, letting him slide those down your legs too as he lifts one and starts placing kisses down your ankle up your leg. “You said we’d get ready for bed~”

“We are gettin’ ready,” his smile goes a little crooked when you bite your lip, “just curious ‘s all. Ya think Samu likes ya?” He lets you fall back onto the plush covers before walking into the ensuite and coming back with some skincare that he places unceremoniously onto the bedside table- and you frown. If your boyfriend asked you a few years ago, you’d assume he was just genuinely curious. About you getting along with his family, his twin, his other half. But now, there’s an agenda woven into the words. Always is.

“We get along well. Why?”

His lips jerk up, and with a simple shrug he continues. “He’s good too ya, ain’t he? An’ I’ve been thinking I want Samu to watch us some time.” You’re too shocked to say anything, but your mouth drops open. No.

No, it’s already embarrassing how he makes you whine and whimper like a pet for him when you’re alone. It’s embarrassing when he makes you call him daddy when there’s people around with no shame- like he gets off on it. But this- his hands find your face with a soaked cotton pad to start cleaning you with gentle motions, and you find your eyes starting to water. You hate that you’ve become this fragile little flower that can’t speak up when it matters. You’d like to think you’re still the same. But your lip wobbles too easily as Atsumu continues, and your voice cracks.

The mortification is too much to bear, it swallows you up whole. He couldn’t possibly make you. “I don’t want that.”

“What’s that?” he coos, eyelids hooded. He leans down to you more.

You push his hand away from your face and frown, but tears still spill over. You fucking hate being such a crybaby. “I don’t want Samu to watch us.” You still frown though, doing your best to blink away the waterworks. And instead of taking you seriously - of course - Tsumu tilts his head in that sort of understanding that you’re throwing a tantrum like a toddler might. But you’re serious. You mean it. His freshly washed hair falls over his brows, but his hands still find your shoulders to keep you in place below him.

“Aw, baby. Poor girl.” The soft rubbing of his thumb along your skin only makes you more shaky in that feeling, his eyes roaming your body before he pushes you back onto the bed and crawls onto it beside you, pulling you into his touch. It doesn’t escape you that you’re already naked and he’s still dressed, keeping you tight. “I didn’t mean to upset ya. Shhh, shhh, it’s okay.” You swallow, and push against his chest with a slight whimper - why can’t he take you seriously?

“I mean it, Atsumu.”

Before you can say anything else he pinches your cheek hard, and his dark brows lace together. “Don’t be rude.” The darkness fades quickly, but he still doesn’t show any intention of letting you go. In fact, because of his strength against you you’re only forced deeper into his embrace, head pressed to his warm chest. “Daddy’ll take care of you. Always do, don’t I?” You open your mouth to retort, but he interrupts again, and squishes your cheeks together before placing a few patient kisses onto your pouty lips. “Listen to daddy. It’ll be fine.”

It’s so frustrating.

You want to move. You want to remove yourself from the situation he’s putting you in, or put on some fucking clothes, and instead you’re being mocked by him. Once more you try to give him a push for some space, but because he barely feels it or pretends not to, you don’t make a dent. “Tsumu, I don’t want to have sex with your brother watching~” you end up crying out, feeling the tears well up again. “Get off of me.” You start wiggling, as his hand wraps around your wrist and forces it to wrap around his body, clamping your hands together behind his back as he rolls over and starts kissing the top of your head.

“Don’t cry, don’t cry. Everything’s gonna be okay.” You want him to leave you alone. “My sweet little girl. You don’t gotta fight me, ‘m not doin’ nothing. I’m here for ya.” His heartbeat is so steady against you that it makes you want to shove him and scream in his face to fuck off, but of course you don’t. You don’t scream. You don’t push, or fight, or make yourself clear. All you can do is cry into his shirt as his smell wraps around you and you struggle to make the waterworks stop.

“Let go~” you sniffle into his shirt, and shiver when his hands start sliding down to pull you back onto him, forcing his thick, strong thigh between your legs. Your straining muscles give up after a while of pushing back, and his embrace still stays.

“Shush, little baby. I got ya, don’t worry yer pretty little head.”

“Daddy~” you whine softer this time, and don’t fight him when he nudges you face up to kiss him. He groans for a moment in what can only be satisfaction at winning the fight, before rolling over so you’re trapped under his heavy body, chest rising and falling against him. And as you try to stop crying, Atsumu has the nerve to rub your head like all of this isn’t his fault.

You can’t escape the heavy gaze anywhere you look. It’s suffocating. Not that you have much room to think about it between the way Tsumu’s taking up your space and forcing one of your legs over his shoulder so he can spread you open. It’s a brief reprieve from the prying eyes blocked by his broad back, but you know it will end. Because Tsumu didn’t just drag his twin here to know that someone’s watching. He wants to make a show of you. To show off the type of power he- oh. Your half-lidded eyes flutter open wider when his fingers spread open your slick and your pussy clenches around nothing.

And Atsumu grins. “Yer so quiet, baby. Are’ya shy?” You don’t answer that, instead trying to chase after his hand when he moves away, wrapping comparatively small hands around his wrist. You can feel the heat of Samu at the foot of the bed, uncomfortably perched onto it with his knee before he dips the mattress further, and your blinks get more rapid.

“Daddy… I- I don’t-”

“Hush,” he moves your other leg aside more, leaving you spread embarrassingly open before he dips his body and glides both hands under your ass, lifting you a few inches. His mouth descends without thinking, kisses and then tongue making you whimper as he eats you out. Not gently, but possessive, demanding licks that drag your split attention right back to him - only until Samu leans forward a little to get a better view. This is so fucking embarrassing. “Mh- Taste good, pretty thing.” Atsumu’s eyes have that same cocky, knowing look he always does when he gets you like this. You won’t do anything back, and he knows that. “Yer droolin’ all over my chin.”

You are. The slick’s coating his lips when he pulls back, trailing kisses up your thighs, before he slides two fingers inside your squelching pussy traitorously slow, and watches your face scrunch. He’s big. He always is, and knows it too, big hands, big thighs, chest, shoulders. Most of all, he’s fucked you enough times now to know that you can’t take him easily without prep, and even that is embarrassing. You could have gone a whole lifetime without having Osamu know that. Why did he even agree to this?

“Little brat,” Tsumu says after a few seconds, flicking your nipple painfully as he stares, clenching his jaw. “Don’t be rude. Samu came all the way out here to see ya, ‘n yer gonna lock up the whole time?” You swallow, and try to talk, but he instead curls his fingers inside your pussy and slides them deeper. Right where you can’t handle them, until you have no choice but to curl and wiggle away from him, mouth pulling open to moan.

“Ah, agh, daddy! Daddy, daddy.” Samu’s broad shouldered figure being barely dressed in a tank and boxers, along with Atsumu’s almost godly physique hanging over you is too much. You shut your eyes. “I can’t- f-focus.” You hold onto his arm as he fucks his fingers in and out of you for long enough that your entire body starts tingling, before he peels you off and turns you over. Rough hands hike you onto your knees, and your ass up in the air before his rough palm lands hard and sends a stinging heat through your legs. “Ow, ow~”

“That’s more like it. I know yer a noisy little bitch.” He rubs your lips up and down with his thumb a few more times, before you hear the sound of boxers being peeled off. “Now, what do ya say when daddy will give ya something ya want?”

He presses the hot head of his cock against you but doesn’t push in yet, and your poor pussy clenches around nothing as tears fill your eyes and you grip two fistfuls of pillow. You can’t say it. Not with Samu sitting right there, judging you both for- another sharp spank makes you shiver, and you whimper into the pillow. The sting aches until heat blooms under the damaged skin, and you unclench your teeth. “Please, daddy? Please fuck me.” You doubt you’re stretched enough to take him comfortably, even with the fingering and all the wetness coating your puffy pussy and the inside of your thighs. “Pretty please?”

There’s a few moments before his hand presses down on your back and his cock slides inside, and you do your best not to gasp too much feeling him force you open. It aches though, and you have to widen your knees to make room and— God it feels so good. You’re not sure whether to cry because of the feeling, or because you can’t stop yourself from moaning high pitched and whiny like a whore putting on her best performance. You really can’t help it. “Agh, ah- d-daddy, move, please.” The heavy weight of his cock bottoms out and he presses his heavy balls against you for a few seconds, before pulling out with a groan.

The motion pulls your entire body back, only stopped by his hand, like you’re some cocksleeve— and you cry harder. “Ah, ah, ugh— Atsumu,” you pout, and he pets your head.

“I’m right here, doll. Does that feel good?” You nod, and cling on, before opening your eyes to look at him with his thighs right next to your head and stroking his cock with an almost torturous pace. You whimper when being bottomed out into, and then your eyes shoot open. You can’t turn, but the low groan Samu lets out when you clench hard around him, says enough— and Tsumu laughs as he watches you panic and your bottom lip wobble, petting your head. Like this is all some big game, keeping you down under his hand while you shake your head.

“No, no- you said- you said he’d watch- agh, daddy! No, no no no, you promised! You promised.” You can’t stop yourself from moaning when he hits deep inside, fucking you much too well. Your mouth falls open as you try to stop the sound, but Tsumu’s touch only gets more demanding as his twin picks up the pace.

“Shhh, shhh, Samu likes ya so~ much. It’s just this one time. And then daddy’ll take good care of ya, promise.”

#kinktober #atsumu x reader #osamu x reader #atsumu kinktober #miya smut #haikyuu smut #hq smut #hq atsumu #hq osamu #haikyuu x reader #tw.dark content #tw.noncon #tw.ddlg #tw.manipulation #tw.daddy kink #tw.infantalization #💫ch.atsumu #💫ch.osamu

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