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saintobio · 1 day

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blank canvas: the epilogue.

pairings. ryōmen sukuna, fem!reader

genre. past lovers, angst, opposites attract

tags/warnings. mentions of toxic relationships, purple hearts-ish themes, maybe some heartache

notes. 2.4k wc. i said it’ll come in a few days, but i had free time so here it issss!

part 1 | part 2 | part 3

TWO YEARS LATER

Tonight was Yuki and Choso’s going-away party.

Their decision to migrate to another side of the world was because Yuki had always talked about wanting to live abroad, and so when Choso was offered a once-in-a-lifetime job opportunity in another country, it became the perfect chance for them to make that dream a reality.

So despite your apprehensions, you couldn’t miss the chance to see Yuki one last time and accepted her invitation to the party.

The evening was alive with laughter and chatter as their families and friends gathered to celebrate their bittersweet departure. Among the crowd, you spotted some familiar faces who exchanged greetings with the couple, as well as some strangers you had never seen before.

But one person was conspicuously absent.

It had been two years since you had seen Sukuna, and the thought of potentially running into him again filled you with a strange mix of anticipation and dread. However, deep down, you knew he wouldn’t be there. There was no chance of him ever showing up because you hadn’t heard from him since that fateful night. The apartment you once shared together now housed a new tenant, and the tattoo shop across the street had transformed into a record store. Neither Yuki, nor Choso (even Yuuji), had mentioned anything about Sukuna since then, possibly avoiding any mentions of him to you out of his request. He had simply disappeared, evaporated from existence, leaving behind nothing but a fading memory.

As you scanned the room with a forlorn smile, your thoughts were interrupted by Yuki’s cheerful voice. “Y/N! So glad you could make it! I thought you weren’t gonna come, too.”

Your first instinct was to hug her tightly. “Of course, not! You know I can’t not see you before you go.”

“Aww.” She embraced you tighter before pulling away with a sad smile. “I’m gonna miss you so much. You’re like a little sister to me.”

Indeed, and she was the big sister you never had. Things would feel different without her here, but you supported her decisions and would always wish her the best in her future endeavors. So, despite the distance you two would soon have, you gave her a reassuring pat on the back. “We can still keep in touch. And maybe, I’ll pay you a visit there, too.”

“Honestly, I would love that!” she enthused, “Please do, even if I have to harass Getou and Gojou about it.”

You chuckled as she mentioned the duo’s name and spent the next few minutes with you chatting for a bit, catching up with your life, talking about your future plans. It was amazing how much can change in two years, and how some things can also stay the same. Like your friendship. And this bond that you would never find with anyone else.

For now, the night was still young, and you knew Yuki still had many more guests to accommodate, so you didn’t want to take all of her time. Eventually she did excuse herself to greet more guests, and you found yourself standing by the kitchen island, absentmindedly stirring your cocktail.

As you stood in the corner of the room, surrounded by the chatter and laughter of the party, you felt a sudden jolt run through your body as loud voices boomed across the room. They were Yuuji and Choso’s exuberant greetings cutting through the air, drawing everyone’s attention, including yours.

“Nii-san!”

“There he goes, Mr. First Lieutenant!”

Your eyes widened as you saw the figure they were addressing with playful salute—a man in a crisp military uniform, standing tall and confident. It took you a moment to recognize him, but when you did, your heart skipped a beat.

It was Sukuna.

He looked different, transformed almost, his demeanor more composed, his smile softer yet still retaining the undeniable aura of masculinity. He looked a lot more muscular than the last you remembered. His hair, now dyed back to its natural color, was neatly trimmed. You recognized that the uniform he wore was of the Japan Self-Defense Forces, adorned with badges and insignias that spoke of his achievements. The reckless, wild look in his eyes had been replaced by something steadier, more focused.

It wasn’t just the sight of him that made your heart skip a beat—it was how different he looked.

“That’s so cool!” Yuuji raved about his older brother’s badges, his starry eyes genuinely intrigued at the sight of Sukuna in a uniform.

Choso, on the other hand, was pulling him in a hug in an emotional jest. “Dammit. You said you couldn’t make it!”

“Don’t cry now,” Sukuna teased, patting the younger brother’s back. He seemed to be genuinely having fun teasing his brothers. “Had to pull some strings. I was on duty, but do ‘ya think I’d let you go without seeing you?”

You felt a pang of nostalgia in their interaction, but also recognized the visible difference in the way your ex-boyfriend spoke to others. He was genuinely happy. He was all smiles. He was the healthiest version of himself, both physically and emotionally.

It was clear to you that Sukuna had turned his life around, and it was evident that he was doing well in his field of work. The man you once knew, who had been consumed by his reckless way of life, was now standing tall and respected as an honorable member of the military.

When you said you had never met Sukuna again in your lifetime, that was true. Because the Sukuna you knew was no longer here. It was an entirely different man, changed for the better, just not for you.

As if sensing your gaze, Sukuna turned and your eyes mirrored each other’s surprise. For a moment, the world around you seemed to fade away, as if you were characters in a movie screen seeing each other for the very first time. It was as though your eyes were the camera, and he was the actor. You could say you were starstruck, your heart thumping so loud that you could hear it vibrate through your ears.

Two freaking years, and Sukuna still had that effect on you.

You didn’t know what to do. You found yourself at a loss, the red cup in your hand now shaking from the sudden surge of anxiety. Your mind was a whirlwind of conflicting thoughts, a kaleidoscope of heavy emotions, a tornado of nostalgic bliss, leaving you feeling adrift in a sea of memories.

You wondered if Sukuna hated having to see you here. And if so, should you leave to spare yourself—or perhaps him—from any potential discomfort?

Caught in this internal struggle, you felt paralyzed, uncertain of what to do next. But then, you saw a flicker of recognition and regret in his eyes.

Before you could even contemplate your next move, Sukuna was already excusing himself from his brothers. Their knowing looks exchanged in silence spoke volumes, indicating they were aware of where he was headed. The realization then hit you like a wave. Sukuna, your ex-boyfriend of two years, was coming toward you, and you were suddenly faced with a decision between confronting the past or making a quick escape.

“Y/N,” he greeted with a boyish grin, his voice deeper, more controlled. The bad boy persona he used to carry was completely gone.

“Sukuna,” you replied, struggling to keep your voice steady, a complete opposite from his confidence.

There was a moment of awkward silence before he spoke again. “You look great.”

“Thanks,” you meekly replied, clearing your throat and gesturing to his uniform, “You, too. Military suits you. I never saw that coming.”

He smiled in agreement, seemingly happy about his current appearance. You had never seen this kind of bliss from him before, like he was filled with content and a sense of self-worth. He was proud, and truth be told, you were, too.

“It’s been a good change. It gave me structure, purpose,” he paused, taking a red cup from the kitchen island nearby, “I finally got something ‘better’ to do with my life, huh?”

You smiled softly, not missing the implication of his last statement. “I’m happy for you. Really.”

“Thank you.”

“Of course.”

“Mhmm.”

The minutes that followed were some of the most agonizing of your life, not because of Sukuna, but because of the overwhelming awkwardness that enveloped the two of you. It felt as though you had nothing else to discuss, knowing full well that delving into your shared past was a territory you could never comfortably navigate. However, Sukuna, always the more vocal one in your relationship, had finally broken the silence.

“Do you…” he began, leaving you on edge, anticipating his question, “Do you wanna get some fresh air outside?”

Right. And with a smile, you nodded. “Sure.”

— —

You were grateful for the opportunity to escape the stifling atmosphere of the party and find some solace in the cool night air. Both of you were at the front porch, sitting over the pavement talking about anything but your past.

Sukuna excitedly talked about his time in the military, where you learned that he had enlisted two years ago and joined the army. After enlisting, he quickly excelled in the rigorous training required for the Special Operations Group (SOG). It didn’t surprise you that his physical prowess, sharp intellect, and determination made him a standout candidate.

“I actually completed advanced courses in counter-terrorism, reconnaissance, and combat survival,” he shared, his gaze set on the clear starry night above you. “Oh, and last month, I was deployed on a high-stake mission overseas. We extracted hostages from a conflict zone. Remember the action movies we used to watch? It was exactly like that. It was fun, thrilling.”

You listened intently, an elbow propped on your leg as you absorbed the enthusiasm in his stories. Pride and joy swelled in your heart as you heard him talk about something he was passionate about, because it was a stark contrast to the old Sukuna who wouldn’t have shown interest in these things. And this time around, you felt like you were infatuated again, but with the new him.

“I’m really proud of you.” Longingness dripping from your voice. “Very proud. And you’re First Lieutenant, too? Wow.”

The compliment seemingly made him blush, a sight so rare to see that you haven’t seen it throughout your relationship. “I wanted to become a better man.”

You felt a squeeze in your heart. You recalled the words he said that night at the parking lot, of him telling you that he had his own insecurities, too. That he knew all along that your uncertainties about him were rooting from his way of life. That he was aware that he couldn’t give you the life you deserved.

“Y/N.” Your name rolled off his tongue in an affectionate manner. He soon rose from his seat, prompting you to follow suit, before turning to face you. “I forgot to mention.”

You swallowed hard. “Yeah?”

His smile was sweet and genuine. “I’m engaged now.”

Oh.

Of course.

What did you expect?

His words settled in your heart like a suffocating shroud. Despite the ache in your chest, you managed a polite nod, concealing the storm of emotions swirling inside you. But you couldn’t contain it—the damn tears that pooled in your eyes. Please, not now. You turned away, hoping to shield your reaction from him.

But it was all too late.

He was already pulling you into an embrace, the familiarity in his warmth only making you weaker inside. “You are and will always be my greatest love,” he whispered into your ear, pressing his lips against your temple, “And also my biggest regret.”

Damn it. You covered your face with your hands, feeling ashamed of the tears streaming down your cheeks. What an absurd twist of fate. You could have gone about your day without encountering him again, yet here you were, shedding tears over the same man who had broken your heart two years ago.

“When I say regret,” he continued, cupping your cheeks and smiling at you lovingly. He ran his thumb across your cheeks, wiping your tears away. “I meant regret of not being that man for you. I didn’t treat you the way you deserved, or respected your boundaries like I thought I did.” Sukuna’s charm had you holding your breath still, too enamored by his beauty under the moonlight. He used to be a man of a few words, and now he didn’t shy away from pouring out his raw emotions. “I’m sorry I was two years too late. I’m sorry I had to let you go and be with someone else. But you and I know that it’s for the best.”

You weren’t crying because you wanted to get back together with him. You weren’t crying because he had promised marriage to someone else. You were crying because it felt like he was the one who slipped through your fingers, the one that got away, the one who could have been your forever if circumstances had aligned differently. It was the regret of a lost possibility, the ache of knowing that in another universe, you and him could have shared a lifetime together, untouched by the mistakes of the past.

He had dreams of making you his wife, dreams of having your children, dreams of growing old with you.

But the old Sukuna was dead, replaced by the new Sukuna who was happy and free from love’s toxicity. You realized it was time to let go. Time to bury the past and instead celebrate the future.

“Congratulations on the engagement,” you offered your well wishes, pulling away slightly to meet his gaze with your tear-filled eyes. “I hope she doesn’t find you a handful.”

He let out a soft chuckle, shaking his head. “No, no. I have to behave or else I’m a dead man,” he joked. “She's in the army, too.”

“Well, I’m glad you met her, Sukuna. You deserve it,” you said, your voice filled with genuine warmth as you wiped your lachrymose eyes.

Gratitude and comfort shone in his gaze. “And I’m glad you found your peace, Y/N. You always deserved better.”

You smiled in appreciation of his words as he helped you dust off your pants. Just then, your phone buzzed in your pocket, briefly taking your attention away from the current scene. “Uh, I think I need to go,” you hesitated, glancing back at the house. “But I think Yuki’s pretty busy.”

“It’s fine,” he assured. “Do you want me to call you a cab or?”

“No, it’s okay,” you replied, shooting him a grateful expression. “Satoru’s on his way to pick me up.”

He nodded, smiling. “Cool.” You were surprised when he offered his hand, a gesture to finally close whatever remained between you two. “It was nice seeing you, Y/N.”

You shook his hand and gave him a playful salute. “Likewise, First Lieutenant Ryomen Sukuna.”

As he returned to the party, immediately attacked by his friends, there was no hint of yearning or longing in him, as if the poignant exchange with his ex-girlfriend had never occurred. He was back in the scene in a fluid motion, laughing, catching up with his loved ones, telling stories about his life. No heartbreaks, no painful memories.

While as you stood there, knowing you had shared respect and love for each other, you were happy that there was a sense of closure in seeing Sukuna as the man he had become. You had both grown, both changed, and in that moment, you knew that your story, though painful, had led you two to where you needed to be.

That your love’s canvas, once blank, now held colors to complete the portrait.

#sukuna angst #ryomen sukuna x reader #sukuna x reader #sukuna x you #ryomen sukuna x you #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk angst

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artdcnaldson · 1 day

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Tie Break || Art Donaldson x Reader ; Patrick Zweig x Reader

this can be read as a sequel to changeover or as a standalone :) enjoy <3

Rating: E (18+)

Word Count: 7.7k

Warnings: SMUT (p in v smut x2, f!recieving oral, handjob, creampie, cum eating), angst with a happy ending, infidelity, toxic relationships, everyone in this is kind of a horrible person, language obviously

Summary: It’s summer in Atlanta, 2011. For the second time in your life, you’re the clear second choice. When the opportunity arises, you find a temporary distraction in Art Donaldson.

A/N: FINALLY here it is! The 2011 Atlanta fic. They’re back, they’re older, they’re even more toxic. Let me know if you’re interested in a part 3!

It was hot, even though the sun had long since dipped beneath the horizon. It was a cloying, oppressive heat that made the stupid, business-casual top you wore stick to your skin.

The article you were working on was halfway written, something you could knock out in the next hour if you really tried. Your drink was watered down from the heat, weak when it hit your tongue. A frown turned your lips, but you really shouldn’t have been drinking anyway.

"Working late?”

The voice was so familiar that you could’ve recognized it anywhere, any time. Art Donaldson was one of the most recognizable men in the country, but to you, he seemed so different. The boyishness was still there, but it lay beneath a new level of confidence.

You took a sip of your drink, trying to appear nonchalant, like it hadn’t been four years since you last spoke. “I’m on deadline. I’m writing a feature on Anna Mueller heading into the US Open next month.”

Without asking, he sat down across from you at the small bistro table. He was so close you could smell the minty gum he had been chewing. It nearly made you smile. Old habits die hard.

“So you write about tennis?” He asked, meeting your gaze.

“I write about athletes,” you corrected. “I was going to be here anyway, and since Anna is heading for a Grand Slam, I thought it would be easy enough. Grab a couple of interviews, watch a few matches.”

He nodded, leaning back in the chair, trying his best to be causal in a situation that definitely wasn’t. You sipped again at your drink, peering at him over the edge of the glass.

“You have a match tomorrow,” you said, as though he needed reminding. “Shouldn’t you be listening to shitty pop punk to get yourself psyched right now?”

A smile spread across his lips, and he looked so much like the guy you knew from college that it made your chest tug uncomfortably. Same hair, the same smile, the same crinkle at the edges of his eyes when he was amused by something. You couldn’t help but smile along with him, like the past four years were nothing. “I don’t do that anymore,” he said with a laugh. “Do you want another drink?”

You looked down at your glass, mostly water and thin ice cubes. “Rum and coke?” You asked, giving him a tiny smile. He nodded and disappeared towards the bar.

It felt strange, sitting there in the quiet, your article the furthest thing from your mind. Four years. It felt like yesterday and an eternity ago that you’d last spoken with him. He was a familiar stranger, nearly unknowable.

Your cursor blinked a few more times before you shut your laptop and slid it back inside your beat-up work bag.

“Running off?” He asked, catching you in the act of packing your things. You shook your head and accepted the fresh drink with a smile. “You said you were going to be in Atlanta anyway,” he said as he sat, spreading out, making himself comfortable in the shitty bar seating. “When you were talking about writing about Anna.”

You nodded. “Mhmm, I did,” you replied, chewing the inside of your lip nervously. His gaze was intense, falling just on the other side of casual. You felt tiny under that gaze, like you were guilty of a crime you didn’t know you’d committed.

“And you’re here for Patrick?” The words were nonchalant, but you could hear the accusation beneath them, the history of the two of them just in one sentence. It turned something in your stomach, the possessiveness in his voice. You could hear it, even four years out.

The new drink was strong, but it was the perfect way to hide the distaste in your expression. The burn of liquor into your chest grounded you back in reality instead of the easy allure of nostalgia. “Yeah,” you said after a beat. “I try my best to go to all of his matches.”

Art narrowed his eyes, just slightly. There was still an element of exaggerated friendliness, the casual smile on his lips, the open body language. All of it masking the lingering resentment and hurt that was buried beneath mountains of nostalgia. Deep enough that neither of you had realized it was still there until you found yourselves face to face. There was an unspoken question, one that he didn’t want to ask, one that you didn’t want to answer.

How long?

You took another drink.

“Where is Patrick?” He asked, glancing around like he might materialize out of thin air.

“He went out for a smoke, or to walk around and clear his head, or something,” you said with a shrug. “I’m not his keeper. Where’s Tashi?”

His jaw clenched and he looked away— a sore spot. A scab you wanted to pick at until it bled, dig your nails in. Maybe that was your eighteen-year-old self talking.

“You never used to let her get too far away from you,” you noted, mirth dripping from each syllable. “Bet you came down here looking for her. Your leash must’ve been just a little too loose this time and she slipped it.”

You took a long drink, nails tapping against the glass as you considered your words. Tashi wasn’t the type of woman who let a man hold her back. If you were trying to be more accurate, rather than just piss him off, you might’ve fixed the analogy. Art was the sad little puppy following her around. She tied his leash to a lamp post for a fucking break.

“Do you remember the day Tashi got injured?” He asked, changing the subject suddenly.

You blinked slowly, appraising him. But his expression gave nothing away. “I do.”

A wry smile spread across his lips, and he met your gaze with a coldness that you didn’t recognize. Mean in the way injured animals like to snap at the nearest hand. “It was Patrick in your room that night, wasn’t it?”

Your brows furrowed, face falling at his words. “What?”

He made a face, something akin to skepticism, but crueler. It made your stomach turn.

“You were fucking someone in your room,” he said plainly. “And I’ve always had a suspicion that it was Patrick. Was it?”

That didn’t do much to clear up your confusion. “You were there?”

He laughed, mirthless, and nodded. “I was, uh, sitting by the door like an asshole. I came to apologize, to beg for you back, but instead, I spent the night listening to my girlfriend getting fucked on the other side of the door.”

Annoyance flickered in your gaze. He knew of a wound of your own, and he relished in picking at it the way you’d relished in digging your fingers into his. “I wasn’t your girlfriend, Art.”

“Right, you weren’t. But you’re Patrick’s girlfriend now, is that it?”

Heat burned in your cheeks. Your relationship with Patrick was… tempestuous to say the least. Most of the time he was your boyfriend, but others he was just a friend that you could count on for a good fuck, sometimes not even a friend. At the moment, he was the former, but that could always change.

It wasn’t easy, being with someone whose emotions ran on an equally short fuse. You’d sound too much like his parents, or he’d devalue your work, or Patrick would forget to take out the trash in your apartment and you’d snap, or you’d mispronounce a word one too many times and it would drive him crazy. Insignificant things could feel big with him, because of him. For better or worse.

“At the moment, yes.”

“At the moment.” He echoed, laughing like he was in on some joke you were painfully unaware of.

”That’s amusing to you?” You asked, raising a brow.

He shrugged, picking at his jeans. “Your choice of words is interesting.” He lets that hang in the air before he meets your gaze again. “Do you think Patrick would’ve even noticed you if it hadn’t been for me?”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes. “Does it matter?” You asked. “You realize that we’ve been together going on four years now, right? Broken up, dating, fucking, whatever. You realize that there may be more important things in our life than you?”

“Maybe, but I doubt it. I think you know that whatever you have, it’s built on the fact that you were a warm body when he needed it. Just like you were for me.”

That arrogant expression, like he actually fucking knew anything about you anymore was the last straw. You stood suddenly, grabbing your bag. You weren’t Art Donaldson’s little lapdog anymore— you didn’t have to sit there and take all the shit he doled out.

“Goodnight, Art. Thanks for the drink.”

It was funny, how your weaknesses were still so exposed. Art’s was Tashi, and it probably always would be. His desire to be seen, to impress, painted upon every lovely feature. And yours, raw and bleeding and obvious— the unbearable, visceral need to be wanted.

You made it to the elevator before you felt his presence behind you. Wordless, but so close it was suffocating. You jabbed the up button over and over in frustration, knowing it wouldn’t speed anything up.

Art stepped into the elevator with you, so close you could feel the body heat radiating off of him. He always burned hot, like a human furnace.

It was silent as the lift lurched upwards. You pressed against the back corner, watching the number of the floor increase one by one.

“Patrick is with Tashi,” Art said without looking at you, just as the elevator opened on the floor of your room. You froze, swallowing hard. “I saw them in the hotel bar, then they left together. What do you think they’re doing right now?”

You shook your head dumbly, pulse thrumming in your throat. “Go fuck yourself, Art,” you said weakly, because what else was there to say? You stepped into the hallway— lit with dim yellow light so you couldn’t see where the wallpaper peeled and the carpet was stained.

“If you need somewhere to wait them out, and you will, I’m in room 13 on the seventh floor.” The elevator doors closed, and you were alone.

The hallway was winding, and you felt a bad sort of anticipation of what you might find, like a sick feeling in your gut. You stood in front of the room, 306, and froze.

The door to your room was closed, no light shone from beneath the door, but you could hear them. Muffled, but clear enough. A pretty voice and breathy moans. Patrick’s laugh, the thud of something falling off the dresser.

Your room key was in your purse— you could’ve gotten it out and stopped it, but what good would that have done? You’d still spend the night humiliated, facing opposite walls as Patrick, lying in the same sheets he’d just fucked her in.

You dropped the bag by the door and took a slow, shaky breath to calm yourself down.

Tashi Duncan. She had lingered on the edges of your relationship with Patrick too. She was Patrick’s first choice, just as she’d been Art’s. You’d never blamed them for that, you knew where you stood, and you chose them anyway.

It was easy to choose them when you thought that the threat was nonexistent— when distance made you feel safe. You could hear her and him, but it felt like mere static in your brain.

You knew how Art felt, back at Stanford. Sulking outside the door, unable and unwilling to stop what was happening on the other side.

You were in the elevator before you realized you’d walked away. Shitty soft rock played over the speakers, and a poster on the wall advertised a continental breakfast. Your stomach turned uncomfortably.

You knocked on the door— room thirteen, an unlucky number. Maybe it didn’t bode well. As you waited for the door to open, your nails tapped a staccato rhythm against your thigh.

Art opened the door like he’d been expecting someone else. Maybe he had half-expected you to interrupt and send Tashi back upstairs, but no. He got you standing at his door with fiery eyes and an expectant expression.

Second choice, second choice, second choice.

Art kissed you for the first time in four years, and you let him. Not because you wanted to hurt Patrick or Tashi, but because you knew it would hurt you. His tongue pressed between the seam of your lips like he belonged there, licking into your mouth like he wanted to reclaim every part of you that Patrick had touched. You pushed him with a firm hand on his chest and he stumbled backward into the room. Despite everything, he smiled.

His hotel room was nearly identical to yours and Patrick’s. But you didn’t have time to really take in the details when he had his tongue in your mouth, kissing you hungrily.

That afternoon, you kissed Patrick after he lost his match. You wondered if Art could still taste him on your tongue then, if he wanted to drown out the taste of him.

It was different than you were used to. Four years with Patrick meant that you’d grown accustomed to certain ways that he did things— the intensity behind each kiss, each touch. His emotions— good, bad, in between— were never masked, never repressed.

When Patrick kissed you, when he touched you, when he fucked you— both of you were laid completely bare.

Art was different. When he kissed you it was through a certain level of performance, like he’d learned how from a searing romance film. In college, you’d believed that he kissed you like that because deep down, he did love you. Even at that moment, years out from your relationship with him, it muddled your brain.

Your sensible work heels had long since been kicked off by the door. Art’s fingers undid the button and zip of your jeans deftly, with a confidence that had only doubled since Freshman year. They wound up in a heap against the hotel dresser.

In his haste to remove your (also sensible, and very business casual) button-down, he popped about half of the buttons off completely.

“Sorry,” he said. The grin on his lips made you wonder if sorry was really how he felt. “I’ll buy you a new one.”

“Stop talking.” You pulled off your bra and lost it somewhere across the room in your haste. Art was pulling off his clothes— his hoodie and the shirt beneath. His jeans and shoes toed off and left to be dealt with later.

He kissed you again, guiding you exactly where he needed. Your knees hit the back of the mattress and he eased you down without moving his lips from yours. When your head hit the sheets, you smelled perfume so sweet that it was nearly intoxicating. You turned your head, breathing deeply. Tashi. In this same bed, in this same spot. It made something stir inside you— right in your chest. A hint of wrongness, a hint of hurt.

Art pulled back, moving his lips along your jaw, down to the junction of your throat.

“Stop thinking,” he murmured against your skin, kissing down to your tits. “I don’t want you thinking about Patrick. Not when you’re with me.”

The words were mumbled against soft, supple skin. His eyes were intent as they looked up at you, the demand of momentary fidelity in his eyes. You wanted to slap that expression off of his face, or run your thumb along his cheek and hold his face in your hands.

How was it fair that he asked you that when he’d lingered like a ghost on the edges of whatever it was that you and Patrick had? How was it fair for him to look at you like that?

He took a nipple into his mouth and you gasped as his teeth grazed against the sensitive skin. Soft kisses before he suckled softly. “Okay,” you gasped, lying through your teeth. “I’m only thinking of you.”

His hair was still long, kept the same way he wore it in school. Your fingers tangled in his hair like muscle memory, scratching against his scalp as he kissed along your skin with wet lips, treating your other breast with the same, hungry attention.

“Still so fucking hot,” he mumbled against your skin. “Should’ve— fuck— should’ve kept you. What do you want, huh? Tell me.”

Your mind swam with possibilities, but you didn’t even know where to begin. Your mind was stuck on his previous words. Should’ve kept you. What the fuck was that supposed to mean? “I don’t know,” you replied, completely honest. “Whatever you want.”

He accepted that easily— it was so similar to how you’d been for him in college. You gasped as he kissed down your sternum, then your stomach. His lips found the waistband of your panties and he grinned, tugging at the lace with his teeth, letting it snap back against your hip.

He peeled your panties down slowly, letting his hands trail down the expanse of your legs. The possessiveness of the touch sent a thrill up your spine. His lips grazed along your skin, from your ankle, up your calf, then your knee. Your legs spread instinctively, welcoming him right back where he knew he belonged. His pretty lips trailed wet kisses up your thighs, stopping just where you wanted him.

You expected him to rush. He’d seen Patrick and Tashi leave, which meant they’d finish before you two, more likely than not. There was every reason in the world to make things quick— to fuck you and make you leave.

Instead, he took his time with you. Soft, teasing kisses peppered on the supple skin of your thighs before he nuzzled into your cunt. The first delve of his tongue was slow and exploratory, tasting the arousal that had pooled at your core.

”God, you still taste so fucking sweet.”

Another thing you’d nearly forgotten about Art— in all things, he was methodical.

He started with kitten licks at your clit— light brushes with his tongue that made you whimper needily for more. His tongue circled you there, and he relished in the way your fingers tugged on his hair at the sensation.

Then he wrapped his lips around the sensitive bud, sucking with more pressure until a strangled moan squeezed past your lips. Your thighs tensed on either side of his head, holding him there as he alternated between slow, soothing licks and firm suction.

It was frustrating, how wet you were. Art had brought out the worst in you, turned you into something that left you feeling genuinely embarrassed. And still, you were slick, dripping down to the sheets. A mess of arousal and Art’s spit.

When he eased a finger into your cunt, it slid in like your body was made to fit whatever he could give you. At that point, you very well could have been. What were you, if not an object orbiting in the atmosphere of his life?

He looked up at you, seeming so fucking intent on making it feel good for you as he crooked his finger. It rubbed against the soft, spongy spot within you and you cried out, eyes rolling back.

“That’s it, huh?” He cooed as he pressed a second finger inside of you. Your arm was slung over your face. You couldn’t let yourself keep looking at him when he was looking at you the same way he had in college. The same fucking expression that got your head all mixed up in the first place.

He pressed a soft kiss to your clit and you whimpered. “I know it feels good, baby, just relax.”

His fingers thrust within you with a slow, deep pressure as he continued to make out with your clit. It was always so good with him— you’d nearly forgotten how easy it was for him to bring you to the edge.

When you came, it wasn’t like what you had grown used to with Patrick— sudden and overwhelming, like it had been ripped from some secret place within you. It was intense, but slow to build, seeming to last forever as Art’s fingers and tongue worked you through it. Your breath was shaky as he pulled back, pretty mouth wet with your arousal.

“Do you want to stop?” He asked, looking up at you expectantly.

You should’ve stopped— rationally, you knew that it was best to turn back and quit before you fucked up the situation beyond repair.

But it was Art. He could’ve had anyone else, but he wanted you. Maybe not forever, or even longer than that night. But for then.

You shook your head softly. “No. Do you think we should stop?”

His fingers moved between your thighs, circling your clit. “We definitely should. You’re with Patrick.”

You sighed, eyes fluttering as he caressed you with featherlight touches. “Don’t fucking talk about him,” you said, but your words came out with no bite. How could they, when he was playing with your body like a favorite toy?

“No?” He asked. He was wearing a smug sort of expression. “You don’t want me to talk about your boyfriend, huh? Too personal?”

You moaned as he applied more pressure at the apex of your thighs, making your cunt clench and ache to be filled.

“Does Patrick know how much you’ve missed me?” He asked. Your breath caught in your throat, and he just smiled. “I bet he does. I think he knows that if he just drops my name in a conversation, your pussy gets wet.”

You moaned softly at his words, chest heaving with soft pants. You weren’t even sure if it was true, but it felt like it could’ve been then. He leaned down, his words spoken close to your ear.

“I can go slow. Make it last for you.” His lips brushed the shell of your ear, making you shiver.

You nodded eagerly, turning your head to capture his lips with yours. The kiss was slow, like you had all the time in the world. His tongue against yours, the weight of his body on top of you, the feel of him hard, pressing against your thigh.

He sat back to strip off his boxers, and you relished in the sight of him laid bare before you. You’d nearly forgotten how pretty he was— big and flushed nearly red with need. It made your heart hammer with nerves; your excitement and shame and need rolled into one messy, electrifying tangle.

His hair flopped into his eyes as he held himself over you, just like you remembered. You reached up, brushing it out of his eyes with a tender hand. His lips brushed against the inside of your wrist, right where your pulse thrummed in your veins.

“Tell me you’ve missed me.”

Heat flooded your entire body, as you repeated the words. “I missed you, Art.” You reached between your bodies, wrapping your hand around his cock, and guiding it towards your entrance. He moaned and bucked instinctively into your hand.

”Tell me you want me to fuck you, no one else.” You could hear the implications in his words. Tell me you want me, not Patrick.

“I want you to fuck me.”

Art pressed himself inside of you, sinking into the welcoming warmth of your cunt. You wrapped your legs around his waist, squeezing him closer, deeper, until his balls pressed firm against you and there was nothing else to give.

He thrust shallowly, rocking against a spot deep within you, one that made your eyes flutter with each brush against it.

“You’re so tight still,” he moaned, lips moving against your throat. “Pussy’s made just for me.”

He touched you like he hadn’t forgotten how you felt or what you needed. Spoke to you like you were one of his possessions.

You lost yourself in it— the sweet, filthy words spoken against your skin, and the rhythm of his body moving against yours. His lips captured yours with a hungry insistence, like he could convey four years' worth of unspoken words with a few brushes of his tongue against yours.

When he pulled back, lips spit slick and looking so pretty, you thought maybe there was a sort of understanding between the two of you.

His head fell back as he sped up his thrusts, chasing his release. There wasn’t time to stretch it out, to spend as much time as you could with each other’s bodies.

“Need you to cum,” he said, sliding a hand between your thighs to rub your still-sensitive clit. Your cunt was squeezing him tight, body aching for it, for him, brought to the edge simply because he’d asked for it. “C’mon— you get so tight when you cum, need to feel it again.”

It was like your body was hardwired to give him exactly what he wanted. You came with broken moans of his name and legs squeezing him closer, deeper. Your chest heaved with shaking breaths and punched out whimpers as he kept fucking into you.

He was practically crushing you with his weight, pinning you down, groaning into the junction of your shoulder.

“Gonna make me cum, baby,” his words vibrated against skin tacky with a thin sheen of sweat.

”Want you to.” Your arms slung around his back, holding him close to you. “I’ve got an IUD, so you can— you can cum.”

His lips met yours as he came, with a pretty moan into your open mouth and slow, messy kisses that made you want to just melt into him and stay that way forever.

Spent, he rolled over and turned on a lamp at the bedside. The alarm clock announced the time in a dim red glow— five past one.

You lay there, damp between your thighs from the mixture of your releases, unsure of what to do. It was cold beneath the hotel AC. He was peering over at you, wearing an expression you were scared to dissect.

When his hand touched your arm, you nearly flinched. Your breath caught in your throat as he ran his thumb along your skin, so sweetly that you felt that same discomfort tug at your chest.

“C’mere,” he said, an offer. His arm was splayed over the pillows, giving you the perfect spot to lie down and press yourself against his side. To pretend like you belonged there.

But you didn’t belong there. You belonged four floors down with Patrick. That’s where you had belonged for four years. The reality of what you’d done had set in quickly, and you knew you needed to get out of Art’s room.

”Art,” you said softly, shaking your head. “I have to go.”

He nodded and sat up against the headboard. You watched him grab his boxers and pull them back on, a strange smile on his face. He must’ve sensed your confusion, even without you saying.

“It’s funny how things change,” he said. “Here I am, asking you to stay for once.”

You didn’t say anything as you picked up your clothes from around the room, redressing as you recovered each piece from its hiding spot around the room. Your shirt was unsalvageable, so you grabbed Art’s. He had plenty of brand sponsors that would jump to replace it, and Patrick wouldn’t recognize it.

“I loved you, I think,” he said suddenly. “Back in college.”

You froze, arms crossed over your chest as you looked at him. “Art—“

“No, I did. I loved you, I just did it all wrong.”

“Art, just stop,” you said firmly. Embarrassment hit you all at once— the guilt of what you’d done, and the shame over who you’d done it with. Your eyes stung as you looked at him. “Why the fuck would you say that?”

His lips twitched, dipping into a frown, then back into as close to a neutral expression as he could manage. “I just thought you should know. It’s only fair.”

You laughed mirthlessly. “Fair? Jesus Christ, you really haven’t changed, Art.”

His expression fell completely. It looked like it had back in the hotel bar— icy. “I haven’t changed? What’s that supposed to mean?”

You sighed as you looked at him. “It means that if this were Stanford, that would’ve made me crawl right back into bed, lay by your side, and daydream about what it could mean for us. If one day I might be Mrs. Art Donaldson. It means that you say these sweet things to me every time you can feel me slipping away, but they mean absolutely nothing. We’re not nineteen anymore, Art. I’m not leaving Patrick to be your plaything again.”

His jaw tensed, and he looked down at the bed briefly while he picked at loose threads on the sheets. “You think that’s what I want?”

You frowned. “I think you want what Patrick has.”

He scoffed. “Patrick doesn’t even want what he has,” he said, relishing in the wounded look on your face. “If he did, he wouldn’t be fucking my fiancée right now.”

Fiancée. You felt stupid for not knowing it, but you swallowed down your hurt and met his gaze. “I guess we’re both going to have to be content with being the second choice.” You slipped on your shoes and went for the door. “Good luck with your match tomorrow, Art. I sincerely hope that I never have to see you again.”

The hallway felt colder when you stepped outside of the room and shut the door firmly behind you. A very big part of you wanted to go back, to knock and apologize and grovel like you might have when you were a freshman.

Maybe you hadn’t grown up that much after all.

The elevator was playing Billy Joel. You leaned against the side of the elevator, relishing in the cold against your sticky skin. When the doors opened on your floor and you stepped out, you blinked in surprise.

Tashi stood in front of you for the first time since college, looking just as stunning as you remembered, probably more so. Her hair was pulled up, slightly damp at the ends. Her eyes flicked down to your shirt, Art’s shirt, you swallowed as an understanding passed between the two of you— wordless, because what was there to say at that point?

”You left your laptop in the hallway,” she said, skipping formalities. “I took it inside so it wouldn’t get stolen.”

“Okay,” you said, chewing on your lip. She stood there like she expected something more. You felt her surveying you, and froze as she reached forward and rubbed at your bottom lip.

“He could’ve at least cleaned you up a bit,” she said. Her fingers delicately fixed your hair, tucking it back into place. She wiped a smudge of lipstick from the side of your mouth. Once there was nothing left to fix, she looked at you one last time and nodded. “You should be fine now.”

Before you could process that, she stepped into the elevator, and you were left alone in the hallway. When you made it to the room, the door was cracked open, so you let yourself in.

Patrick was on the balcony smoking a cigarette, a towel slung low around his waist. The bed was a fucking wreck, not that he seemed to mind.

When the door clicked shut, he stubbed out the cigarette he was smoking and joined you back in the room.

“Are we going to talk about it?” He asked. His jaw tensed as he looked at you, like he was ready if you were going to start a fight.

“I just want to go to bed, Patrick,” you said, annoyed by how wobbly and pathetic you sounded.

He stepped forward and kissed your forehead. “Okay. We’ll go to bed.”

You kicked off your clothes, but left on Art’s hoodie. Patrick didn’t ask where it came from, or what happened to what you were wearing earlier. You knew he already knew, that he could tell the moment you walked in. He dropped the towel onto a heap on the floor, climbed into the bed, and held out his arms for you.

A stronger person would’ve told him to fuck off, but you weren’t a stronger person. You nestled into his side and felt the hot sting of tears in your eyes.

He rubbed your back soothingly and kissed your forehead. The sheets smelled like Tashi, he smelled like hotel soap, and you smelled like Art’s cologne.

“Do you want room service in the morning?” He asked softly.

“Patrick—“

“I’m serious. We can have breakfast in bed, do some tourist-y shit, maybe we’ll go watch a couple of matches, then come back and—“

“Are we supposed to just forget what happened?” You interrupted.

“I thought you didn’t want to talk about it.” He kissed your forehead, tender, sweet. “I’ll tell you everything if that’s what you want.”

You met his gaze. “Do you… do you want to know? About Art?”

He went quiet as he played with the ends of your hair. “Did it make you feel any better?” He finally asked.

“Yeah,” you said softly. “Then it didn’t.”

He kissed the crown of your head. “No?”

You shook your head, sighing softly as his kisses trailed down, over your nose, to the sides of your mouth. “No. It was a mistake.”

”Tell me about it,” he said, murmuring against your jaw. “Tell me how he touched you.”

You shivered, tilting your head to give him more access. Your nails scratched softly against his scalp as he sucked bruises onto your throat.

“He was desperate,” you said, heart hammering as you began recounting it to Patrick— your boyfriend. There was no world in which he should’ve wanted to hear about it… and yet. He moaned against your throat, encouraging you, wanting to know more. “Kissed me like he wanted to taste you in my mouth, like he wanted to overpower you.”

Patrick moved his lips to yours, kissing you with a sloppy brush of his tongue against yours. “Like that?”

You shook your head and leaned in, deepening the kiss with slow laps of your tongue into his mouth. He moaned softly, matching your pace in a way that was rare, but made butterflies dance around in your stomach. He pulled you on top of him— hands roaming from the backs of your thighs to squeeze your ass as he deepened the kiss. It was just as slow and sweet as before, but you could sense the need and hunger behind it.

You pulled back, just enough to remove your lips from his. Both of your breaths came in needy pants. You weren’t sure why you were enjoying this, but you were, so you kept going. “He took off my clothes, and laid me down on the bed.”

Patrick moaned, chasing your lips. You sat back and just looked at him— lying there with still-damp curls, his pupils blown with lust. His cock was hard, resting against his stomach, precum beading at the tip.

You pulled off Art’s hoodie and tossed it across the room, relishing in the way Patrick’s eyes raked over every bit of exposed skin like it was the first time he’d seen it. “He ate me out, made me cum on his fingers first, then again while he was inside of me,” Patrick’s breath caught, just for a moment. Desire, or jealousy, or both flickered across his gaze. “He fucked me like he wanted me to fall in love with him again.”

Patrick’s chest was heaving as you moved a hand between your bodies, grasping his cock in your hand, stroking slowly. “Is that how you fucked Tashi? Like you wanted her to pick you instead of her fiancé?” He moaned as your thumb ran over his slit, smearing the precum that had begun to dribble out.

“No,” He groaned. You nodded encouragingly, squeezing him tighter in your fist. “Fuck. I fucked her like I wanted her to know she made a mistake. Made her cum until she tapped out”

You ran a thumb over his bottom lip, tugging slightly. “With this pretty mouth, huh?” He nodded, wordlessly. “And with this?” You gave a slow stroke of his dick, making him buck up into your fist. Another nod.

“Show me.”

Patrick’s brows furrowed in disbelief. “Show you?”

You nodded and continued stroking him. “I told you about Art, so I want you to show me how you fucked Tashi.”

You recognized the fucking insanity of what you were asking, but you didn’t care. It was a strange form of closure— closing the circle, or whatever.

“Fuck, okay. Lay back,” he said, patting your thigh. You slid off his lap and settled atop the sheets, watching him expectantly.

His fingers hooked in the waistband of your panties, and he slid them down slowly. “Fuck.” Your cheeks flooded with heat as he held the sodden fabric up, wet and sticky with Art’s cum. He groaned and hooked your thighs over his shoulders. “That’s… god, that’s really fucking hot, baby.”

Oh. The mix of embarrassment and desire was something new— burning hot in the pit of your stomach as Patrick licked at your pussy, tasting the evidence of your arousal mingling with Art’s release. He moaned against you, holding you so tightly that his fingers dimpled your thighs.

His tongue lapped at your entrance, pushing into your cunt as deep as he could manage, then back to licking at your clit. It was messy— a combination of spit and cum and your juices.

“Fuck!” You cried out, tugging his hair as he sealed his lips around your clit. He moaned loudly against you, encouraging you to do it again, the fucking masochist.

He redoubled his efforts, pulling you closer, moaning against your cunt. It was like he wanted to devour you, to lick up every bit of Art that was left inside of you. You wanted him to try— you wanted him to replace every part of Art that was left in your body and soul.

“Patrick,” you gasped. He murmured an mhmm against your pussy. Eyes closed, right at home between your thighs, lost in the taste of you. “Need you inside.”

He planted one, two sloppy kisses to your clit before he pulled back, his lips shiny with your arousal. He wiped the mess away with the back of his hand, smirking down at you. “You need me, huh?”

You nodded, chest heaving with each panting breath. Patrick sat down at the headboard and patted his thigh. “Prove it.”

You sat up, crawling up the bed until you were straddling his lap. “You made her do all the work?”

He laughed, running his hands up your thighs to squeeze your ass, tug you closer. “I didn’t make her do anything.” Patrick had a hand wrapped around his cock, and you moaned softly as he guided it between your thighs to notch at your entrance.

You sank down slowly, forehead pressed against his as you took inch after inch. “Fuck,” you breathed. You leaned forward, brushing your lips against his as you gave a slow roll of your hips. “Fuck. You’re so deep, Pat. Feels so good.”

His head fell back against the headboard as you began to ride him in earnest. “Fuck, just like that,” he groaned, still wearing that fucking smirk, even balls deep inside of you. “That’s it, baby, take what you need.”

And you did. The way he was looking at him was proof enough, he was eating up every fucking second of you fucking yourself on him, using him like a toy.

Your noises were near-pornographic— Right there, fuck, you’re so big baby, so fucking deep.

The poor soul next door slammed on the wall, begging for you to just shut the fuck up. Patrick silenced you with a hungry kiss— a mess of tongues and spit. His fingers moved on your clit, pulling you towards the edge with desperate need.

“Close,” you gasped.

He nodded, moving his fingers faster. “I know you are. I’ve got you.”

You collapsed on top of him as you came— hips canting weakly as he worked you through it. He thrust up into your tight walls, groaning at the feeling of your cunt spasming around his cock.

“Fuck, you feel so perfect,” he groaned, burying his face into the junction of your throat. “Gonna cum— fuck—“

You moaned softly at the feeling of him spilling inside of you— the soft pulse of him, the warmth of his cum flooding your cunt. You stayed on his lap, kissing his freckled nose, his eyelids, his mouth.

When you finally moved off of him, you whimpered at that loss of fullness, and of the slick mess seeping out between your thighs. If you were smart, you would’ve gone and cleaned up, but there was nothing more you wanted than to lay there in Patrick’s arms and fall asleep.

Whatever. You’d leave housekeeping a very generous tip. He sighed contentedly as you lay there— like you were made to fit against him perfectly. A warm hand rubbed comforting circles on your back, and you felt so at home, even in an Atlanta hotel.

“I love you, you know that?” He asked.

You looked up and nodded. “I know. I love you too.”

You found yourself staring up over at Patrick with a stupid, persistent smile on your face. He turned to watch you watching him, wearing a matching grin on his face. It was hard to tell who started laughing first— you or Patrick. At the absurdity of it all, at yourselves.

“God, we’re so messed up,” you said, with another laugh.

He nodded. “Really messed up, but whatever. Apparently your brain isn’t even fully developed until you’re 25.”

“Great, so we have one more year until we’re normal, rational adults.” He laughed, holding you against his chest.

He reached over and kissed your forehead. You were so sticky and gross that you really needed a shower, but, again— it was a tomorrow problem.

It fell quiet, and you could feel yourself slipping into comfortable drowsiness when Patrick finally spoke up. “Are we going to be okay?”

You blinked slowly. With your hand resting on his chest, you could feel his heart thudding just beneath your palm.

When you were twenty, you met Patrick’s parents. Crowded into his childhood bed with your head resting against his chest, his heart pounded as he apologized for the intense grilling you’d received that night at dinner. It was the first time you ever felt like his bravado had been shaken, like you were seeing through to the core of him.

You always knew you would be the one to say you loved him first— it was just the way things went. “I don’t care if they like me,” you had assured him. “I love you.” His heart beat harder, faster. He didn’t say it back until two days later, when he was fucking you in that very same bed— forehead to yours, skin sticky with sweat. “I love you,” breathed into your mouth like air.

When you were twenty-two, you moved into an apartment in Manhattan and Patrick followed like a housecat— no rent, no job, just company and a mouth to feed. The tour wasn’t going well, and you were working for a shitty, clickbait news site that hardly covered the cost of your place.

Things were good, mostly. Comfortable, domestic. Patrick tried to be a good boyfriend, you tried to be a good girlfriend. Both of you were trying to figure out what that meant for the other as best as you could. Patrick would bring you flowers from the corner store and take you out for drinks and dancing on weekends. You’d drive out on holidays to visit his family and wind up leaving early to go back to the comforts and peace of your apartment.

When you could, you’d follow him out to tournaments. If he won, he’d take you out with the prize money. If he lost, you’d take him back to the hotel to cheer him up.

On rough days, one of you would come home to the apartment and pick a fight over laundry, or a dish left in the sink, or even what he’d left on TV, and the other would give it back tenfold. Your neighbors would beat on their walls in annoyance as you yelled at each other, until one of you slammed a door and sulked in another room for a few hours, or you had make-up sex that gave the neighbors another reason to bang on their walls.

The breakups were infrequent but severe. You’d kick Patrick out, he’d live out of his car, or in a motel, or fuck off to some tennis tournament that you’d previously promised to go to. One of you always broke first, returning to the other with promises of love, and to do better.

You did love each other, really. And things usually got better. It was just easy to live with your feelings dialed up to a ten where Patrick was involved: bigger good moments, worse bad ones.

Your career had vastly improved. Patrick had moved up in the rankings, only slightly, but it was something. You could afford a bigger apartment in a nicer area, maybe get a dog. And you didn’t just want those things alone, you wanted them with him.

You pressed a kiss to the center of his chest and nodded. “We’ll be fine,” you assured. It felt like the truth.

He nodded, looking down at you. His freckles were so much more pronounced after tournament after tournament in the blazing sun. “Yeah, probably.”

The next morning, you both got the continental breakfast you’d seen in the elevator while housekeeping dealt with the aftermath of the previous night. You did tourist-y shit— went to a museum, found a nice spot for lunch.

At the end of the day, you sat in the oppressive Atlanta heat with Patrick and watched Art Donaldson win his tennis match. You and Patrick left early, fucked in the backseat of his car, and decided to head home early.

As you started the drive back, you held his hand over the center console and listened to a shitty mix CD with songs he’d ripped off of LimeWire. You gave him shit when Kelly Clarkson followed Lil Wayne, but you both sang along to every fucking word.

You were right. You and Patrick would probably be fine.

#patrick zweig x reader #art donaldson fanfic #patrick zweig fanfic #art donaldson x reader #patrick zweig #art donaldson #challengers 2024 #challengers fanfic #challengers x reader #changeover au #my writing

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blushweddinggowns · 3 days

Text

It had started like a normal night. Sharing a pillow, Steve playing with Eddie’s rings as they playfully argued over something stupid. Eddie had just been going into the true differences between black and death metal when Steve fell asleep, mid-lecture. Eddie didn’t mind though. If anything, he kind of liked watching Steve sleep, how peaceful he looked. But that didn’t mean he could do it all night.

Eddie sighed when he sat up, flicking on the bedside light as he fumbled for a book. He was still wide-awake, probably hours away from sleep yet. Getting lost in a Tolkien book was the best remedy he could come up with.

He started reading, glancing down at Steve here and there as he went. He always shifted in his sleep when Eddie moved, nearly like he was unconsciously seeking him out. He ended up curled around him, his forehead pressed against Eddie’s hip. One arm thrown over Eddie’s lap, the other draped behind his back, nearly like he was hugging him. Not that Eddie minded. It felt nice, warm. A pleasant weight that made Eddie feel good in a way he couldn’t quite articulate.

Though… if Eddie was being honest with himself, he’d have to admit that it was a bit much. It was too domestic, on the cusp of a weirdness that Eddie shouldn’t ignore.

But he did.

“Eddie.”

Eddie hummed at the sound, not looking up from his book, “Yeah?”

It wasn’t exactly out of the ordinary for Steve to sleepily mumble out his name. It was usually to be a little shithead and pout at him until Eddie got him water. But Steve didn’t answer him, he just made a small noise before rubbing his head against Eddie’s side, still fast asleep.

Eddie didn’t think much of it, besides a passing thought that he was too cute for his own good. God, whatever guy did end up with him was going to be one lucky son of a bitch. The second he got out of this town, Eddie was sure guys would be all over him. He just hoped he picked one that deserved him.

Eddie went back to reading, fully expecting Steve to stay quiet for the rest of the night.

But around half an hour later Steve was mumbling something again, something that Eddie couldn’t quite make out. Though he knew he’d heard it.

Eddie glanced down at him, vaguely amused. If this was the famous “talking in his sleep” thing then Eddie was going to give him so much shit for being a drama queen. He set his book back on the nightstand, shutting off the light as he settled back into bed, draping an arm around Steve’s waist as he waited for more.

It was dark in the room, with just the barest sliver of street lights peeking through his closed window. But it was enough for Eddie to get a good look at him. Steve's brow was furrowed, his eyes moving underneath the lids as he slept.

It looked like an intense dream, one that Eddie could sympathize with. He reached out, brushing a bit of Steve’s hair back, smiling to himself when Steve’s face started to relax. He always looked so calm when he was asleep, nearly sweet. Eddie just hoped he wasn’t having a nightmare-

“Mm, Eddie, m-more.”

The hand Eddie had in his hair stilled, his mind not quite catching up to what he heard.

What did he just say?

Steve sighed as Eddie stared at him, his lips parting just enough to murmur, “T-There. Right there.”

Eddie’s eyes widened as Steve started to get louder, too loud for him to mistake what was happening for anything else.

“Mmph, Eddie,” Steve whined, so clear it was almost startling, “Want it. Want you.”

from this fic

#steddie #steddie fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie ficlet #stranger things

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tootiecakes234 · 2 days

Text

Aged up Characters

MDNI: smutty

Katsuki had been gone for a month on an assignment and not only had he been away from you all that time, but it’d also been one of the most exhausting assignments he’d been on. Which is why he had EVERY intention of getting home and passing out in your shared bed for the next 3-4 business days.

He had a plan. Get home, take a shower and get directly into bed. Fuck food, fuck putting his things away.

But that entire plan went up in smoke when he got home.

He walks in with all his stuff and just drops everything close to the entrance. He trudges his way through the house and into your bedroom, when he hears the shower cut off.

He knew you were home because your car was in the driveway, but expected you to greet in the front room but he now sees you were otherwise occupied. What he didn’t expect was for you to come scampering out of the damn bathroom completely naked and dripping wet.

You of course screamed bloody murder because you hadn’t heard him come in.

“Katsuki what the hell?!! You scared the shit out of me! I could’ve killed you.”

He snorts, “with what? Your tits? Death by smothering??”

“Maybe dammit. My hearts almost came out of my throat.”

“So this is what you do when I’m gone huh?” He asks as he starts walking over to you. “Walk around naked and wet and what?? Do you air dry?” At this point his voice had dropped an octave or two and you could feel his eyes roaming over your body.

“No i d-don’t air dry…. Well that wasn’t my intention this time. I just left my towel out here.”

“Mmmm…” and he snakes his arms around your waist pulling you to him focusing his eyes on yours. “ I get home after a month and you dont even seem excited to see me.”

“Well maybe if you hadn’t tried to give me a heart attack…ouch asshole. Why the hell did you pinch my ass?”

“Be nice to me. I’m tired and jetlagged…. And now, because of you I’m hard” he of course takes this moment the press his groin up against you so you can feel how hard he actually is.

Your hands are resting on his biceps before the slide up and your hands sift into his hair.

“Well let me just dry off and I’ll help you with that” and you have the nerve to try and pull away from him.

“Why would you go dry off when I like you just like this hmm? Wet. And Naked.” And then he presses his firm lips against yours before sliding his hands down to cup both of your ass cheeks.

“Tell me you missed me brat. I’ve been here 5minutes and you haven’t said it.” He says with his lips pressed up against you ear and then he moves down and start placing sloppy kisses on your neck.

“Of, fuck, of course I missed you Katsuki. I sent you voice messages e-everyday telling you how much I missed you.” You whine.

“I don’t believe you.” And you jump before letting out a moan when this asshole slaps the hell out of one of your asscheeks. Then he slides his hand down and in between your puffy pussy lips.

When he pulls back to look at you there is a smirk playing on his lips. “Maybe you did miss me.”

“I told you.” You say as a pout forms on your lips.

“I can’t be sure though. I need you to prove it.”

“Prove it how Kat? I’m wet for you already. Is that not enough??”

Then his smirk turns into the most devilish smile you’ve ever see. “ i told you im exhausted from fighting villains, and you know making the world a safer place.”

“Get to the point you terrible man”

He chuckles at that. “Well that means I need you to be a big girl and do all the work this time. Need you to get my cock all wet with that filthy mouth of yours and then need you to ride me til I fill up my pretty little cunt ok?? Can you do that for me?”

All you can do is nod your head and drop to your knees.

This definitely not how he pictured his arrival home. It was so much better.

Katsuki Bakugo Masterlist

*id just like to say that this fic started with a whole different idea in mind and evolved into this and i never even got around to the original because it was getting too long😭

*also this isn’t proofread in the slightest so sorry🤭

Tags: @dreamcastgirl99 @xxvendettaxx @justbepeace @moonpieshawdy @theloveofnagiseishiroslife @mintsbubbletea @darkstarlight82 @anon-mouse223 @b134ch-m4h-ey3z @i-literally-cant-with-this @flowerbedbaby @kit-katsukii @blaize-hewwo @sweetblueworm @tippy-toes @superlegend216 @kxtsxkii @liliththeunqualifiedsimp @burgvndy @fluffismystaplefood @yoyolovesdaiki @zaiban2989 @zanarkandskylines

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planetaryupscaled · 2 days

Text

Disenchanted 5: Second Chance

Male Reader x Karina

Tags: 9k, anal, creampie, dp, oral, threesome

The story is not ours, we alternate the original story to match our desired settings.

Over the following days leading up to my “marriage counselling session” as I would like to put it much to Karina’s disdain, my feelings on the matter slowly turned from quiet apprehension to anxiety.

Throughout the past couple of months, sneaking around like a bunch of teenagers was such a turn on. The impromptu meet ups and rash actions, down to what went down with Hajoon and Yeonjun, all of it was as a whole, extremely satisfying. My affair with Karina was a rush of fresh air, the fact that I had been fantasizing about her for all these years only for everything between us to come to fruition almost felt like fate.

With Jaewook not knowing a thing while their marriage fell apart never really pulling on my heart strings, till now. He was bound to find out, there was not a chance in hell that Karina and I could hide our chemistry at the best of times, let alone while fucking. It was something I tried to mentally prepare myself for, a task that Karina seemed to have resigned to fate. I could tell by the way she acted that week, her only focus was her kids, career and me.

Jaewook was well and truly out of the picture at this point, he was, how did she put it when describing Hajoon and Yeonjun? He was merely a prop to satisfy her new found desire to be filled simultaneously, to feel the pulse of multiple men release inside her over and over again. The night of the foursome unlocked a different side of her, unchained and willing to settle for nothing less but satisfaction, she was insatiable and I loved it. I would do anything for her, even sacrifice a poor man’s heart and pride if I had to.

—

I had a brief conversation the night before the meet up with Jaewook. It was for all intents and purposes, the most awkward conversation I have ever had.

“Hey... I suspect you have spoken to Karina?” Jaewook said, his voice was sombre, yet hopeful.

“I- yes...well- about that...” I started.

“Just- please...I...we...have run out of options,” Jaewook replied solemnly.

“I mean... do you really think this is a good idea?” I asked, hopeful he would reconsider.

It was a turn on for me to share Karina in this way, knowing I was the one who satisfied her to the fullest but there was something about doing this with her unsuspecting husband that made the whole ordeal wrong somehow.

“K- Karina and I have spoken about it, it was my idea, I’m thinking if we can get the spark back- perhaps...maybe...” he said.

“I don’t get it...there is no turning back after this,” I said.

My words were empty laced with a hefty dose of hypocrisy. There was no way back no matter what, I just did not want to get caught.

“It- it’s fine, it’s better than what we have now.” Jaewook replied almost defeated.

“I- ok...” I said caving in, knowing I was going to go through with it anyway.

“OK...good...say 6pm, I will send you the details.” Jaewook said with renewed optimism.

I nodded internally, putting down the phone with a sigh, it was really going to happen, this was actually going to go down.

—

The morning, my eyes shot right open, my body prepped but my mind was still cloudy. Karina kept telling me to let it go, just let it happen she said. We were like polar opposites at this point, almost like I was the one cheating on my other half. I smirked remembering her outrageous comment a few days before. She wanted me to save all my goodness for tonight.

Basically, a vow of celibacy or anything sexual to make my release inside her that much more pulsating as she put it. She really had changed over the past few weeks, coming out of her normally composed shell, demanding what she wanted when she wanted. I loved her for it, it was an extremely sexy trait. Off course I followed suit, making sure I was primed to seed the fuck out of her married pussy that night. My cock twitched just thinking about it, the guilt from the past few days slowly being replaced by a hunger, a lust for what was about to take place. Feeling my phone buzz beneath my pillow I swiped it open only to be greeted by a scantily clad Karina dressed in nothing but some tiny frill line under wear.

“You ready for tonight?” It read.

I replied with a cheeky wink before getting dressed and packing my things. The drive up to the woodlands would take just under two hours, miles away from civilization, it was the perfect setting to heal...or in our case...fuck our problems away. Karina had asked me to stay a couple of nights, with the option of a cabin room or a more adventurous tent setting, I had chosen the latter, not wanting to be near Jaewook for the meantime as much as I could help it. After about 45 minutes I was out of the city, the winding roads welcomed me like a snaking entrance to my truth, my darkest desires. It was calling me, my mind almost in a trance like state as I pictured how tonight would go down, how Jaewook would react, his facial expression as I penetrated his wife over and over again. How long would it take for the penny to drop that this was not our first time? That I had flooded Karina’s cunt with my sticky cum many times over to the point that she would leak from her slit moments afterwards, on occasion going back to him, to his arms. It filled me with trepidation, yet at the same time excitement, almost relief that our passionate affair would be fully in the open.

—

“Hey stranger...” Karina smiled as I pulled my car up at the cabin.

Jaewook was there waving his hand.

“No worries, we will all get time to get to know each other.” He said in jest.

His joke fell a little flat, eliciting a sharp jab from his Missus as I grinned awkwardly.

The cabin looked just like the ones you see in the films, dark brown decking surrounded by pine trees that lined the outskirts of the property. Despite its foreboding facade the inside of it was warm, a hearty fire was burning bright in the living room, with one of those thick tartan throws in front. I smiled inwardly at the setting, the wood burning fire, cozy looking sheets, it was a setting for one of those porn sets. Karina could read my mind, shaking her head comically as she hid her laughter from Jaewook.

“So... drink?” I said tentatively, setting my bags down by the foot of the door.

“Drink it is!” Jaewook replied, breaking the awkwardness, gesturing towards the kitchen.

“Karina, why don’t you show Minho his tent...Glamping I am told.” He said with a smile.

Pouring me a whiskey on the rocks, I took it straight down, giving me the much-needed kick for tonight’s events as I followed Karina out into the garden. It was more of a vast wooded space than a garden and my large tent was more like an outdoor wooden hut, its roof shaped in a horseshoe complete with working heating and a shower. This was definitely not camping, it was more like a posh outbuilding which overlooked the wooden cabin, having a perfect view of the balcony above.

“Thats...our room.” Karina said, tracking my eyes to the balcony.

The way she said our, making it sound like she was referring to me as she shot me smile before pulling me in for a deep kiss out of eyesight from the main cabin. Her lips tasted sweet, like she had just had a cocktail a few moments before. Laced in sugar, her tongue dove into my mouth, searching my oral cavity with her slickness as I sucked on her soft pink lips.

“Relax...” She said, pecking me on the cheek, leaving a lipstick mark smudged on my face.

I smirked, shrugging my shoulders before sighing.

“You sure you want to do this?” I asked tentatively.

Karina merely smiled, kissing me once more before squeezing my crotch firmly.

“Cum in me first...” she whispered, mirroring what she said to me moments before the sweaty foursome that kicked this all off.

She left leaving the door open, brushing her hair behind her ear as she stalked her way back to the cabin, the soft taps of her heels scrunching against the broken stone pathway. I sat down on the bed, the rustic looking accommodation giving off a strong nordic feel, like I was in the middle of Iceland. I had always wanted to go there, maybe after this Karina and I could go? I shook the daydream out of my head, hearing Jaewook call out to me from the back door of the cabin.

“Bud, everything ok?” He asked.

“Yeah... just- settling in.” I replied.

“Everything...check out, ok?” He asked warmly, popping into the room.

“It’s- perfect.” I replied, clasping my hand on his shoulder as I followed him back to the main house.

“Good- well...Karina and I were wondering if you would like to join us for dinner in a bit, I just need to pop to the shops to get a few supplies.” Jaewook said smiling.

His trust in me was astounding, leaving me alone with Karina knowing what I was here to do was either a masterstroke or a naive move. My thoughts were on the latter as I watched his car snake down the driveway and disappear out of view. Just on cue I turned around to see Karina, her pert rear sticking out slightly as she seductively removed her tight jeans, rolling them down her slender, toned legs, kicking them over to me as she disappeared into her bedroom.

“I need a refill...” Karina called out, shaking her wine glass at me.

We both knew that was not what she meant, she wanted to be filled in other ways as I entered the doorway and stared at her beautiful figure. The smoothness of her skin left me feeling weak at the knees, her bra already removed as the ravishing housewife sat with her back away from me looking back in anticipation.

“What will it be?” I asked, raising my eyebrows.

“The usual...” Karina replied seductively.

“I want to feel you cum inside me...” She whispered, biting her lips.

It was enough to set any man off as I unbuckled my jeans only to be met by her hands running along the length of my legs, tugging at my underwear, desperate to uncover her prize. My cock sprang to attention, narrowly missing her eye as I lowered my hands down towards her exposed breasts, massaging her soft mounds till her nipples stood at attention. Giving her perfect tits a firm squeeze, I rolled my eyes into the back of my head the moment she took me into her warm mouth. It was instant, my dick being deep throated inside Karina’s moist mouth. Her lips slurped at my shaft, sucking on my meat as she covered me in her silky saliva, covering me fully as my tip rested on her tongue, being teased by the suction coming from her full lips as I ran my hands through her hair. Gripping her head slightly, Karina tilted her face up at me, allowing me to fill her cheeks with cock as the mother of three sucked on my slick dick as sensually as the first time I had penetrated her mouth.

“You...eghmm...taste...mmphhh...so...mmm...fucking good.” Karina moaned against my length.

“Better than your husband? I asked with a cheeky look.

“Fuck my mouth...” Karina replied, as if to prove a point.

I rested the underside of my shaft on her slippery tongue while staring deeply into her brown puppy dog eyes before pumping my cock between her married lips. I watched in awe seeing my length swallowed up inside her wanting mouth, my tip excreting a few drops of precum on her tongue as I held Karina steady and fucked her mouth.

“Mmmphhhh...gluck...gluckk...gluckkk...” Karina hummed, taking my cock inside her luscious mouth over and over again, feeding on my dick.

“Fuck Karina...turn around...” I moaned through gritted teeth.

I slipped out her mouth with a delectable pop, all the saliva coating my length now dripping onto the wooden floor as Karina kicked off her nonexistent underwear which I picked up and held to my face, taking in a good breath of her moist sexual juices smothered on the bottom of her panties. She studied me with a knowing look on her face, hugging the white sheets as she lay on her front, lifting her leg for me ever so slightly.

I knew what she wanted and how she wanted it. The feeling of her brown eyes boring into my face signaling she wanted me inside her, deep and hard. I did not want to disappoint, pumping my cock a few times with my fist before spreading her slick labia with my fingers and spearing her married cunt with my twitching cock, stuffing her cunt with my thick meat. The feeling of filling her completely never got old, the hug of her pussy caressing my shaft as I thrust downwards and up into her love channel smashing my tip against her cervix. The force, rocked Karina, grimacing with a mixture of pain and pleasure as I punished her from behind, her slickness creaming all over my shaft as we mated like rabid animals. Sweat was pouring from my face and onto Karina’s perfect form, pooling in the small of her back where I pressed down, pushing her face into the pillows below, ramming as much of my cock into her tight cunt as humanly possible. The sounds of slapping flesh were permeated by grunts and wails, my balls crashing against her tight rear as I bent over, welcoming her tongue between my lips.

‘Mmmm...fuck...fuckk...deeper...deeper...please...pleaseee...ughhh...” Karina wailed, her face covered in perspiration as I cupped her breasts, pulling her to my chest.

She was basically kneeling upright, my thick cock still penetrating her precious pussy, stretching her gorgeous pink walls out as I fucked the shit out of her. Feeling her body gradually tense up, her ass was first, then the walls of her womb, followed by the trembling of her bronze thighs.

“shitttt...baby...babyy...right...there...” Karina moaned, gyrating her hips onto my groin as I bottomed out inside of her.

“Tell me what you want, SAY IT!” I grunted into her ear.

Grabbing a fistful of my hair, she breathlessly whispered into my mouth.

“In me- cum…inside me...” Karina said wearily.

“Louder!” I yelled into her neck.

“Fucking cum inside me! dump…your…cum…inside me!” Karina screamed in euphoria.

Her body trembled in my arms, stretching and spasming in my grasp as I tamed the her, gripping her hips as I rammed my cock deep inside her womb, erupting with ferocity.

“Karina- Fuck…” I moaned exasperated.

My weeks’ worth of cum came sprinting out the gates, peppering Karina’s married cunt as I continued to feed her tight pussy my salt spunk. She flicked her hips in time with my thrusts as I continued to pump my potent sperm right up inside her slit, jet washing her cervix with my sticky semen as she milked my shaft dry. It was a mess, her snatch was overflowing everywhere, being pushed out with each pump as I pulled her close, seeding her womb and painting her uterus with my cum.

“Ohhh god...I can feel it running inside of me...” Karina said with a smirk.

Our kiss was deep and fleeting, hearing the front door unlock and Jaewook place the shopping in the kitchen.

“Honey...” He called out.

“Shit” We both said in unison, Karina smirking cheekily at me.

Karina’s eyes shot open in fear, yet she still held me close, giving me one final rotation of her hips to suck out the final few drops of thick spunk from my spent cock. Slipping out of her thoroughly fucked cunt, I grabbed my clothes, slinging them in the corner as the remnants of our love affair dribbled onto the wooden floor, Karina’s grool sticking to my thighs as we disengaged.

“Shoot...” I said, scooping it up and tasting her slick sweetness before she ushered me behind the clothes rack.

Karina flipped off the light swiftly, managing to put on her bra, albeit lopsided, before turning away from the door just in time for Jaewook to knock.

“Babe…you in there?” He asked, easing the door open.

“Hey- you.” Karina said, rather flustered.

The room was rather dark, as the sun had gone down already but you could still pick out her features in the dim shadows. Jaewook sighed, almost expectantly, I could see his head move up and down slowly surveying his scantily clad wife.

“Where’s Minho?” He asked, closing the gap.

“He went for a walk.” Karina replied convincingly, skirting away from Jaewook’s outstretched hand.

“I... have to prep dinner.” She followed up, trying to work her way around towards her jeans sprawled on the floor.

There was a strange tension in the room as I held my breath steady, trying my best to remain silent. It was clear to see observing the couple this close that something was not right at all. Karina almost seemed as if she did not want to be touched by Jaewook who in turn kept pursuing her for some semblance of closeness. It was an endless cycle that I knew only had one outcome.

“Karina...wait.” Jaewook said, wrapping his arms around her slim waist.

They were right in front of me, my face hidden only by a row of coat jackets and a few shift dresses. I could still smell Karina’s perfume on her hanging clothes, sweet on the senses assaulted by the powerful smell of her sticky sexual juices still smeared on my legs, I loved it.

“Jaewook wait, Minho might come back any time now.” Karina said reluctantly.

“Pfft...I mean we are all going to go through with this, what’s the harm in... starting a little early?” Jaewook replied.

I could see the outline of his hands roam her chest, unclasping her bra and letting it fall to the floor. Almost as if taking the path of least resistance Karina shrugged off his hands.

“Just- make it quick...” She said, peering at me behind the clothes rack.

Even through the darkness, I could tell her face was more apologetic rather than anything else, as if she was ashamed to be doing this right in front of me.

“Karina...I...have...missed...you...so...much,” Jaewook said, his breaths getting shallower as I heard his zipper go down.

There was a slight pause as he held her close, spreading her legs shoulder width apart and easing Karina over. Just like the first time I witnessed them two fucking, it was doggie style, his preferred choice of penetration it seemed. Moving one of the coats ever so slightly, I peered through the darkness, Karina catching the glint in my eye off the moonlight streaming through the window. She took a deep intake of breath as I saw her facial expression change from uncomfortable to a hint of pleasure. Jaewook gently pushed forward, spearing his wife’s cunt in one motion, bottoming out in her slick, tight pussy.

“God...you are so wet...” Jaewook said, almost pleased with himself.

“I- uhhh...came...prepared,” She shot back almost immediately.

It was a sordid sight, seeing the woman that I loved being fucked by her husband, each pump of his cock causing my pre discharged spunk to flow so effortlessly out of her. The squelching sounds of his meat irrigating Karina’s sex of my seed as he filled her precious womb was oddly, a massive turn on. I could feel my member start to grow, unconsciously dropping my hand to rub my tip.

“Jaewook- hurry...ughhh.” Karina moaned unconvincingly.

He picked up the pace, the sounds of his hips smashing off her ass now all you could hear, drowning out his grunts of pleasure as he pumped his wife. Karina was rather unbalanced, rocking back and forth as she fell backwards on top of him.

“Wait, wait, just…just lie back...let me...” She said, her breathing a little ragged.

“God baby, it’s been too long... fucking ride me.” He said, lying on the bed with outstretched arms.

Karina pushed her ass out, sitting on his lap, rotating her hips and looking directly at the clothes rail. Gaining a bit of confidence, I stepped out slightly uncovering my cock through the fabric so that she could see what I was doing. We locked eyes as Karina rode her husband in reverse cowgirl now, straddling his lap and flicking her hips.

“Ughhhh...ughhh...just...like that...” Karina moaned.

I watched as Jaewook grabbed her hips and pulled her towards him, stuffing more of his cock into her primed and well fucked pussy. Taking the opportunity with Jaewook being distracted, I grabbed Karina’s soaked underwear from the floor, wrapping it around my stiff cock and jerking methodically. Rocking my head back I could feel Karina watching me, her moans were getting loader as I could tell Jaewook was rubbing hard up against her cervix. Staring at each other again, I picked up the pace which she duly followed, riding her husband wildly, fucking more meat into her tight cunt.

The sight of her getting railed was hitting the right buttons, my balls starting to churn as I felt my cum travel up my shaft and shoot from my tip. I was quick enough to catch every drop inside her soft silky underwear, continuing to milk my dick of my essence while watching Karina approach her crescendo.

“Ughhhh...I’m- I’m...cuming...shitt...ughhhh.” Karina wailed, her arms outstretched towards me.

Jaewook was bucking his hips, pumping his straining cock into his wife. His hands gripping her hips as he reached the point of no return.

“Karina...baby...take it, fucking...take...it...” Jaewook groaned, taking all his frustration out on forcing more of his cum deep inside her womb.

He was still cumming inside her when I stepped forward, pouring my cum down Karina’s open mouth, pooling on her lips as she swallowed my load sensually, taking my fingers with it as I stuffed her drenched underwear into her mouth. Karina and I locked eyes once more, her hands spearing out to my crotch, giving my spent cock a few pumps before tasting my semen on her fingertips. I knew this was the beginning of a long night, seeing her motion towards the door while still flicking her hips and milking her husband. Ducking low and grabbing my clothes, I slipped silently out the room, making my way to the cabin to clean up.

I had no idea how long I had been in the shower afterwards by the time Karina came knocking on my door. She wore a sheepish smile on her face as I opened the door, only to be greeted by Karina in the tightest little outfit I had ever seen her in. Dressed in a white miniskirt and some sort of crop top bra, she kissed me on the cheek, slapping my balls, before giving me a cheeky little dance routine.

“Dinner in five, wear something- comfortable.” She said, winking at me before returning to the house.

I was in utter shock, this evening had been crazy already, in some ways more outrageous that the night with Yeonjun and Hajoon. This was with her husband... and he seemed to be all for it. Walking through the backdoor, Jaewook greeted me immediately with a beer.

“Hey man, thanks for... going for that walk earlier, me and Karina had time to reconnect...” He said with a sly smile.

“What are you guys talking about?” Karina said, as she popped open a bottle of wine.

“Nothing… just about our little warm up earlier,” He said, jovially.

Jaewook’s mood had taken a turn for the better, buoyed by his little fuck session with Karina earlier. Unbeknownst to him, I had already... how do we say it... pumped and dumped a weeks’ worth of my pent-up seed deep inside her marital cunt. There was probably a good chance that a few of my soldiers were swimming around in her womb right now.

“Well- practice makes perfect.” Karina, shot back in jest.

“Well...I think you enjoyed yourself babe.” Jaewook said with confidence.

‘Jaewook? seriously? time and place.” Karina replied, her cheeks going red as we caught each other’s glance’s.

“This looks amazing Karina.” I said, changing the subject.

The table was all laid out, a full-on roast, a bit heavy I thought given what we were about to do. Saying that however we would need a lot of energy so maybe it was the correct decision. It was a strange atmosphere at first, the awkwardness was palpable will we got to the second bottle of wine.

“So, Minho- are you...excited about later?” He asked raising his eyebrows.

“Who said anything about later, now is as good as any.?” I replied, winking over at Karina as I took another sip of beer.

“Easy, can’t have you throwing up all this well-prepared food.” Jaewook said laughing.

The banter continued throughout the night, both Karina and I eye fucking each other whenever Jaewook looked away. It was getting harder and hard to hide our chemistry as I offered to do the dishes, brushing Karina’s hands as I picked up the dirty plates. The look she gave me almost made me pin her tight frame against the kitchen table and rail her right there. We both knew she would have let me, irrespective of Jaewook being there or not.

“Ehh leave it in the sink.” Jaewook said, a slight slur in his words.

“Yes...lets...crack open another bottle in the living room.” Karina said, squeezing my hands discretely as she passed by.

The small gesture brought a smile to my face as I followed the couple to the living room, complete with a brightly lit fire and tartan rug on the floor. I remembered my first though of the setting, like a porn set.

“All we need is a camera.” I blurted out.

Karina looked at me shocked, her expression was priceless as she slapped my arm rather firmly.

“Ha…I love the way you think.” Jaewook replied, finishing off his drink.

“What do you say babe?” He followed up, kissing Karina on the cheek and pulling her close.

“I- don’t think… no, not tonight.” She said, slightly embarrassed and taking a seat on the far side of the couch.

Jaewook looked at me rather disappointed to which I just ushered my hands down signaling him to drop it. Karina gave me an appreciative smile as Jaewook sat down next to her leaving the single leather-bound seat next to the fireplace for me. From this angle, I could see all the way up Karina’s bronze leg, my gaze practically eye fucking her next to her husband which did not go unnoticed.

“So... here we are...” Jaewook said rather suggestively, grazing his hand on Karina’s knee.

“Do...you like him watching babe?” He followed up, taking another sip of his beer and drifting his hand ever so slowly up her smooth thighs.

“Mmm...hmmm.” Karina sighed never leaving my gaze as I felt a tug in my trousers.

This was it, the moment we had been working up towards, for the past week or so. Jaewook’s eyes were filled with lust as he leant over, kissing Karina along her nape, his tongue extending, licking her down her chest, freeing her left breast from her top. I could feel the tension in the room slowly dissipate, replaced my sexual energy emanating from all three of us. Studying every contour of her face, she closed her eyes, rolling her head back the moment Jaewook made contact with her sex, his fingers audibly penetrating her labia as I heard the slickness of her cunt squelch with each thrust of his forearm. Watching Karina, mouth agape, staring back at me while Jaewook sensually fingered her was one which would stay with me forever.

“Ughhhh...” Karina moaned gently as Jaewook pleasured her cunt.

“You see Minho...she isn’t as intimidating as you thought.” Jaewook said softly, increasing the thrusts of his fingers.

Karina had her legs wide open at this point, giving me a perfect view of her husband inserting another two fingers into her perfectly slick pussy, the way her lips hugged his probing digits were complimented perfectly by her soft moans and gyrating hips. I felt my cock stir in my pants again, unzipping my trousers to comfort my straining cock, eager to get in on the action.

“Looks like our guest is almost ready...” Jaewook said, his voice in a sex fueled trance.

“Lie down for me...” He said, kissing Karina on the neck and feeding her his fingers.

Lost in a drunk lustful haze, Karina lay down, spreading her legs for him as Jaewook positioned himself between her toned thighs. Her head rested on the couch armrest, face turned towards me extending her tongue in my direction. With one swift thrust, Jaewook had fucked his cock right up to the hilt, causing the couch to creak under the force.

“Ughhhhh...” Karina moaned; her eyes fixated on my raging cock as I pumped myself to the sordid view in front of me.

“Fuck… you feel so good baby...” Jaewook moaned, grabbing her by the hips and railing his dick deep inside her womanly cavern.

Each thrust of his cock bringing about a sharp groan from Karina who had now reached out a hand towards me beckoning me to come closer.

“It’s OK bro... come...have a try...” Jaewook said, pumping his cock into Karina once more.

Taking one last swig of my beer I kicked off my trousers and walked over to Karina’s face. Her head was overhanging on the armrest, perfect for what I had planned. It was almost as if she had read my mind, pulling me in close for a deep kiss before whispering in my ear.

“Cum down my throat...” She said, licking me up my cheek as I positioned her upside-down, head between my legs.

Jaewook saw this little interaction but it did not affect him in the way I thought it would. I was sure he must have known there was something going on with Karina and I by how comfortable we were in each other’s company, the countless stares across the room must have been seen by him at least once. Now a passionate kiss while he was balls deep inside her would be the final straw. Never the less, it seemed to spur him on, egg him forward as he intensified his pumps into Karina, fucking her cunt with reckless abandon.

“Minho...do...it...fuck...my wife’s mouth...” He groaned through gritted teeth.

Karina’s eyes were wide and longing, her breasts bouncing up awkwardly with each full force fuck from her husband’s. Reaching up between my thighs she wrapped her tiny hands around my base and began to jerk. Her thumb running circles along my slit whilst her other hand squeezed hard on my balls as I positioned my tip at the entrance of her mouth. It was such a sexy scene, seeing Jaewook thrust his meat all the way up Karina’s tight cunt while her face lay upside down between my legs, mouth at my mercy. Not taking a moment to process anything I pumped my hips forward, stuffing her mouth full of my cock till my tip reached her tonsils.

“mmpphhh...gluck...gluck...gluckk.”

Spit was pooling at the side of Karina’s mouth, her lips wrapped firmly around my shaft as both Jaewook and I pumped her from both ends, ravaging her pussy and oral cavity all at once. It was savage the way we pleasured ourselves without a thought for her comfort, lost in a world of our own as he railed her tight body relentlessly. Grabbing both of her breasts, I squeezed down hard on her nipples making Karina moan around my meat as Jaewook gripped her hips even tighter, eager to stuff her cunt with as much of his cock as he could. The feeling of Karina’s tongue lapping up my precum dribbling into her mouth was euphoric, her lips providing just the right amount of suction as I skull fucked the housewife on the sofa. I groaned at her touch as she popped me out of her mouth and allowed me to teabag her. Taking each of my orbs between her lips, then both at the same time, while jacking my slippery cock covered in her warm saliva as I continued to knead her perfect tits. Looking up, Jaewook was close, it was strange as Karina had always requested me to cum in her first. It was like we were thinking the same thing as I looked down and saw her eyes pleading with mine, knowing her husband was close she popped me back in her mouth and began to suck me with ferocity.

“Fuckk...karina...suck...me...” I moaned, gripping her face and fucking my meat deep into her throat.

She was gagging but did not care, eager for me to win the race to spill inside her first. Karina was good, her tongue finding a rhythm with my penetrative strokes as I pumped her throat, she sucked my tip on exit making my balls churn hard. I could feel I was there, running my fingers through her hair once more I fucked her face deep into the armrest with a loud thud. My cock exploded between her lips as a torrent of cum flooded her mouth, Karina’s lips remained pursed, sealing my seed inside her oral chamber as I continued to pump her throat full of my warm sticky sperm. The whole sight must have triggered Jaewook, seeing me pulse down his wife’s throat with ferocity he thrust his cock as far as he could into her tight cunt unleashing his load inside her twitching womb.

“Fuckk...babee...” Jaewook growled, his cock spasming with each subsequent follow through as Karina rubbed furiously at her clit.

We were filling her up at both ends, pumping our seed deep inside her pussy and mouth at the same time as she writhed in pleasure. Bending over her face I took her pert and sweaty nipples between my lips and began to suck, rubbing at her throbbing clit as Jaewook continued to thrust his cock inside his wife. My member was still between her lips as Karina continued to keep my cock as a prisoner within her mouth, not stopping for a moment in sucking me bone dry, she wanted to get me hard again. I could hear her swallowing with each suck of her lips, taking down my sperm into her stomach as I felt her thighs start to tense.

“Ughhhh...fuckk...minho...minho...fuckkk...baby...” She moaned as I attacked her clit with my fingers.

I looked up between sucks of her tits, seeing Jaewook withdraw his spent cock from her cunt as I felt Karina suck down hard on my cock once more, her tongue working wonders around my meat, bringing it back to life as she climaxed hard around my fingers. Fucking her with my digits with deep strokes, I basically scooped Jaewook’s cum out of her cunt as I fucked her face while rubbing deep inside her pussy, reaching her g-spot and applying pressure.

“Babeee...” She yelled, bucking her hips as she squeezed her legs shut around my hands, twitching in pleasure.

Her juices were all over my fingers, together with Jaewook’s essence which I fed into her waiting mouth. It must be the first time she had tasted his cum as his expression was priceless. By this time, I had already regained my hardness, slipping from her lips with a slurp. She looked at me and I knew what she wanted, kneeling up and extending her hands towards me. Picking the sexy ass up I guided her to the nearby wall, her hands on my shaft, jerking it. With a look of lust Karina looked at me and then nodded, raising her legs for me, before glancing at Jaewook.

Knowing what she wanted immediately I closed the gap, pushing my tip into her wanting sex with ease. Karina’s pussy juice and grool, together with Jaewook’s cum creating a thick film of lubricant for me to penetrate her aching cunt.

“Shit...you…fuck...me...good...” She whispered in my ear as she wrapped one of her legs around my waist.

My thrusting starting off slow, building in speed and power, I wanted to savor every moment inside her married pussy while Jaewook watched behind us. The pump of my hips slapping against her groin each time I fucked more cock inside his wife was such a thrill. Having Karina whisper sweet nothings in my ear knowing I was going to seed her cunt while her husband watch, turned her on to no avail.

“Cum in me while he watches...” She whispered repeatedly into my ear.

“Fill me up baby...just like that.” She followed up.

I picked up the pace, filling her womb with more of my cock as I smashed up against her cervix, my tip attacking, reaching maximum depth as I fucked her onto her tip toes. It was at that point I had an idea, picking Karina up and turning her around.

“Her ass Jaewook...fuck her ass...” I said breathlessly, pumping my dick deep inside her twitching pussy.

“What...umm...but...she does not...” Jaewook started.

“Fucking do it.” Karina snapped back.

He followed suit, grabbing her waist as I spread her ass cheeks for him. I could tell when he filled her anal cavity by the look on Karina’s face the moment she was stuffed by two cocks simultaneously.

“Fuckk...” Karina groaned into my mouth, wrapping her hands around my neck as her thighs tightened around my waist.

“Fuckkk Karina...your ass...it feels...feels...amazing.” Jaewook moaned, rolling his head back.

“Over there, Jaewook lean against the banister.” I said motioning to the stairs.

All three of us waddled over to the stairs as Jaewook leant back on the cool wooden railings. Karina knew what was coming as I pinned her back firmly onto Jaewook’s chest as he continued to irrigate her ass with cock. Kissing her deeply she bit my lip hard as I she held on tightly to my shoulders. Reaching forward I gripped the wooden rails either side of Karina’s and Jaewook’s head before ramming my cock hard and deep into her cunt. The force withdrew Jaewook’s cock from her ass, slipping out of her tight fuck hole before he recovered and reentered her asshole.

“Ohhhh...fuckkkk...ughhhhh...ughhhhh...” Karina screamed.

Her face was all scrunched up, a mixture of pleasure and pain as I fucked my cock deep inside her married pussy, her cervix taking a battering as my crown smashed repeatedly against her insides. The walls of her cunt no longer tight around my shaft, almost relaxed now, accepting defeat as I had my way with her, ramming my cok hard and deep into her wanting slit, stretching her pussy out while Jaewook thrusted up her tight ass.

It was a thing of beauty, perfect teamwork, all three of us working in unison, Karina accepting our meat, Jaewook and I fucked Karina with vigor as we pumped her full of cock. The noise of slapping flesh and groans rung out everywhere as I felt my balls churn once more. I could see Jaewook grimacing behind his wife as Karina moaned desperately in my ear.

“Minho...Minho...I’m close...fill me up...fucking...dump...it...in...baby...” She moaned in euphoria.

“fuckkk...minhoo...” She screamed, biting down hard and climaxing with two men filling her up.

I had no idea if he heard her say that, if he did, he did not care, too caught up in pumping his staining cock up inside Karina’s anal cavity to notice, his face now pent up, ready to unload.

“Karina...baby...I’m...I’m...coming.” I groaned, kissing her deeply as I thrust my cock deep inside her cunt one last time.

Bottoming out inside her womb I unleashed a flood of cum inside her pink folds, pumping my potent seed into her precious cunt. I could feel her pussy lips struggle to contain my load as I continued to pump her cunt full of my sperm, my sticky semen dripping down my thighs as I painted her pink walls white. All the gyrations set Jaewook off as I felt his hips jerk. He was dumping his load into her gaping ass while I fueled her cunt with my cum. Both of us unloading inside Karina in unison, jet washing her insides with our cums was as seedy as it got. Feeling her scratch at my back as she accepted both of our loads was perfect, her body twitching in my arms while I filled her womb to the brim while Jaewook filed her anally, injecting her with his sticky sperm.

The three of us stayed in this position for what seemed like forever before Karina slipped free of our grasp and dropped to her knees taking both mine and Jaewook’s cock’s between her lips. Seeing Karina suck on both of us, licked and drank up the remnants of both of our loads

“Take me upstairs...” Karina said, looking up at me while pumping my shaft in her right hand and her husband’s in her left.

Without saying a word Jaewook picked her up and carried her over his shoulders up the stairs. I watched, studying her rear and taking in the utter destruction of her lower half dripping with copious amounts of spunk and sex, smothered all over the back of her thighs and along her ass cheeks. It looked like Jaewook was in the best mood I had ever seen in a while as he turned to me at the top of the landing, waving for me come join them.

“Minho, get up here.” He bellowed enthusiastically down the stairs.

I ran up with a spring in my step anticipating the next steps on our messed-up fuck affair. As I entered, Jaewook already had Karina up against the wall, his face buried in-between her luscious legs as the sounds of his tongue working overtime on her freshly fucked cunt was all you could hear. He must have had my load smeared all over his face but it was too late, Jaewook was too far gone, lost in a mad lust fueled rage, eagerly sucking Karina to completion while she writhed against his face. Stepping forward I planted my lips on her mouth, tasting her tongue while we swapped spit. Moving behind her I lifted her right leg on top of Jaewook’s shoulder, giving him more access to explore her sex with his mouth. I wanted her ass and she knew this the moment she felt my tip brush her rosebud. Karina was still red raw from the anal fucking Jaewook had given her downstairs, his seed still leaked from her asshole as I ignored all notion of morals, resting my crown at her tightest entrance. Karina looked back at me, taking my lips between hers and biting down hard.

“Fuck me...” She whispered in my ear.

“Take me nice and deep…” She followed up, drinking down my spit as she pushed her ass back onto my lap, piercing her anal canal with my cock.

It felt tremendous, her tightness coupled with the softness of fucking Karina anally was immensely satisfying. Each pump of my hips spewing Jaewook’s load which rested deep inside her asshole to come flowing out, like a river of seed, dribbling purposely down her legs as I stuffed her ass full of my meat. The sounds of Jaewook slurping on his wife’s slit was getting louder, my thrusts deeper, stretching Karina out as she rolled her head back on my shoulder.

“Ohhh...aahhh...fuckkk...me...ughhh...suck...me...shitt…” She yelled, bucking her hips as her climax reached its peak.

Karina ground her hips hard onto Jaewook’s mouth, fucking his face with her cunt as I continued to rail into her rear from behind, feeling the aftershocks of her orgasm contract her anal cavity around my shaft, sucking on my slick cock in earnest, begging me to fill her void. I was close, so close, gripping Karina’s hips tightly as I fed her my meat, ramming my cock hard and deep into her asshole, fucking her raw.

“Baby…” Karina moaned, to which Jaewook released his face from her cunt lips only to be pushed back down by her wandering hands.

“Babe...” She moaned again.

I knew she was talking to me, I knew what she wanted as I doubled down and fucked her ass harder and deeper than before, bottoming out in her anal canal as I felt my spunk building. Karina tensed her walls up just in time, sucking my sperm out the tip as I coated her asshole in my sticky seed, pumping wave after wave of sperm into her bowels.

“Fuckk...karina...” I growled like passionately, feeding more of my seed up her tight married ass.

Like a man possessed, I lifted Karina off Jaewook’s face and dumped her face down on the bed, fucking my spasming cock deep inside her ass as we interlocked hands in the prone position. Grinding my hips into her rump, Karina pushed back softly, gagging to be filled up by my load as the last of my cum fired into her ass. I rolled over, absolutely knackered as Karina regained her breath slapping my arm, smiling at me seductively, sweat covering her face her hair all over the place.

I could feel Jaewook’s eyes on us, leering at Karina as he joined her on the other side, rubbing eagerly at her red raw rump while pointing his tip at her thick lips. Just like our time with Hajoon and Yeonjun, Karina was beyond caring about their fractious marriage, the only thing that mattered in this moment was fulfilling her deepest desires, to be filled repeatedly and fucked long and hard, like one massive mating ritual. She opened her mouth, accepting Jaewook’s cock between her lips and began to suck.

“Ohhhh...Karina...just...like...that...” He moaned, smiling over to me.

Running his fingers through her hair he forced her mouth deeper onto his length fucking right into her moist gullet as he fed his wife more of his meat. The slurps from Karina’s mouth were infectious, goading me on to filing her from the other side once more as I ran my finger up her moist labia, slipping my fingers deep into her cunt while she sucked her husband. Her nectar was all over my digits, translucent grool sticking to my palms as I penetrated her cunt over and over again, finding her g-spot once more and stroking her with rapid flicks of my finger.

“Yesshmmm...” Karina moaned, on Jaewook’s cock, feeling me invade her cunt with my fingers.

Gyrating her hips on my palms I looked up at Jaewook who had a grin on his face, savoring his wife’s lips wrapped around his shaft. I placed my spare hand on the back of her head, forcing her to take him into her throat as she looked at me alarmed, eyes watering.

“God you are a bad one Minho.” Jaewook said chuckling as Karina shot me the dirtiest look before sucking down hard on his cock once more.

“Let me cum down your throat baby.” He moaned, thrusting into Karina’s mouth with rapid pumps.

She shook her head, comically smiling at me around Jaewook’s meat.

“Uhhhh...uhhhhh.” Karina moaned, releasing Jaewook from her mouth and jacking his cock.

The look on his face was one of disappointment laced in a bit of jealousy as he looked at me, Karina massaging my sack with her fingers.

“But...you let him unload in your mouth, I’m your husband...” Jaewook said, his voice showing a growing tone of annoyance.

Karina shot me a look of concern at the abrupt turn of events before I chirped in quickly.

“Mate I probably put her off with my taste, besides I basically had her pinned down at the time.” I said laughing awkwardly.

“I guess...” He replied, distracted by Karina pressing his slit with her thumb.

I looked at Karina slightly relieved, with danger averted for now, she took it in turns blowing Jaewook and I while frigging her sopping wet sex.

“God Karina you suck me so good.” I groaned, fucking her face gently with my cock.

“She sure knows what she’s doing.” Jaewook said breathlessly.

“Mmmmm.” Karina replied spreading her warm spittle along my length while pleasuring me with her lips.

“Dance for us...” Jaewook said, suddenly, taking a step back and sitting on the foot of the bed.

Giving me one last, long suck, Karina took me into the back of her throat, nibbling at my crown on exit before slipping me out of her warm mouth and standing up. Karina had something about her tonight, a hunger that grew as the night went on, right now she looked insatiable, her lips pursed as she swayed her body in a trance like slither, swaying to the music playing in her head.

Jaewook and I gave our full attention as Karina gyrated in front of us, reaching out with both bands and jerking slowly at our erect cocks, straining to be inside her once more. Glancing over at Jaewook, he wore the same face that I saw when Karina was riding him earlier tonight, a lustful anger that I could not explain. Partially due to the frustration he faced when doing anything he wanted with Karina physically that was, always rebuffed in some way or another. With me she was as free as a bird, allowing me to take her any which way I pleased, in her mouth, pussy or ass, I was spoilt always for choice.

“Karina baby, do me like you did earlier...” Jaewook said subtly.

She glanced over at me smiling, which I returned in kind, remembering the semen soaked panties I stuffed in her mouth while she climaxed on her husband’s spurting cock a few hours ago. Turning around seductively, Karina gave us one final wink before lining herself up with Jaewook’s throbbing cock. In one fluid motion the sexy housewife opened her legs and dipped her body down upon her husband’s cock, impaling her slippery cunt on his meat till she bottomed out.

“Ohhh...god...” Karina mewed, feeling Jaewook fill her unfaithful pussy.

I had lost count on how many times she had been seeded, how many times I had dumped my cum deep inside her married pussy, fired into her uterus and pumped into her cunt. Just seeing her with Jaewook knowing I was the one she wanted drove me insane. Their position was different from earlier with Karina leaning back placing her hands on Jaewook’s chest. His palms supporting her weight, gripping Karina tightly by the waist as he pumped his dick right up into her tight cunt.

“Fuck baby you feel better than ever...” Jaewook growled, ramming his cock deep inside his wife.

The slap of his balls against her slit really got me going as I planted on long kiss on her mouth, tasting her spit between my lips. Stalking her like a tiger, I walked over till I was between her legs, watching Jaewook penetrate her perfect pussy over and over again. The smell of sex and fresh grool was in the air along with cums oozing out of Karina’s ass crack and cunt. Looking at her seductively, she knew she was about to get well and truly fucked, my tip grazing her throbbing clit as I fisted my cock head a few times to get myself nice and hard.

“You ever taken two cock inside your pussy at the same time Karina?” I asked in a sinister tone.

Her eyes shot wide open, mouth unable to protest as Jaewook continued pumping her cunt with his meat, gripping her waist and thrusting as far as he could go within her pink walls. I kissed her once more, squeezing down hard on her breasts as I lined myself up with her slit, Jaewook still fucking her nice and deep. Without a moment’s hesitation I pushed forward, feeling the walls of Karina stretch out, my cock was sliding up against Jaewook, a surreal sensation no doubt. In the cold light of day, I would never even contemplate it, but looking at Karina, in this moment, I wanted to fill her out, stretch her cunt as much as possible, stuff her with as much meat as she could take.

“Aawww...ahhhhh...godd...ughhhhhhh” Karina grimaced as I pushed halfway in.

Jaewook gripped her even tighter, figuring out he was not the only one inside her pussy right now as I also invaded her space, deciding to bury his cock right up inside her womb as we jostled for position. It was a tight squeeze, I could see her labia engulfing mine and Jaewook’s cock’s, we were splitting her cunt in half. With one final thrust I was in, balls deep. Both Jaewook and I resumed our pumping, smashing her cervix with the tips of our cock’s in unison as we filled her womb with our meat.

“Ughh...wait...Guys...UGHHHHH”. Karina screamed.

Her face was all screwed up, hands wavering under the increasing pressure of both Jaewook and I drilling her cunt mercilessly. The slaps of my balls against her red raw pussy now causing her to hyperventilate as I gripped her breasts and kissed her deep, forcing my tongue into her mouth and thrusting my meat deep inside her womb. Karina had now collapsed on top of Jaewook almost like a rag doll as we had our way with her. Every time he pumped more meat into her pussy I followed soon after, double stuffing her vagina, stretching her to the limit. Karina and I locked eyes in this moment, her face glazed over in lust as my palms massaged her abused clitoris while penetrating her depths.

“Cum for me...” I whispered into her ear, increasing the thrusts of my cock into her pussy as Jaewook doubled down on his pumps.

“UIghhhhh...ahhhhh...ohhh...shit...shittt...ahhhhh” Karina screamed.

Her legs were shaking, her pussy just taking the mass penetration. Feeling her walls finally contract around our shafts, she nearly passed out, shaking in pleasure as her cunt creamed all over our member’s, coating us both in her luscious nectar as I felt my balls pulse.

“Karina...Karina...keep...going...” I said gritting my teeth.

She pulled me close, gyrating her spasming cunt to take us both in.

“Knocked me the fuck up...” She whispered.

It was all I needed to hear, thrusting my cock deep inside her walls as I bottomed out against her battered cervix, my cock exploding inside her as I coated her walls white. Wave after wave of my sperm poured out into her welcoming cunt, seeding her married pussy as my pulsing dick seemed to trigger Jaewook. He started unloading too, spraying his warm sticky cum inside Karina’s well fucked pussy. Spurt after spurt, both from Jaewook and myself, peppered her unfaithful womb as we flooded her with our warm cums, seeding her cunt as she reveled in the feeling of being pumped full of sperm. We were fuel injecting her pussy for a good five minutes, never stopping in thrusting into her womb as we eventually came to a stop, Jaewook slipping out first to a torrent of cum cascading out of her slit. We were spent, Jaewook was finished, eventually falling asleep on the far side of the bed.

It was in this moment that Karina and I knew the truth, it was truly over between her and Jaewook, this was almost like the final goodbye, only he was not aware of it. Karina looked at me longingly, her face tired, body used and abused. Yet despite this she managed to crawl into my arms and kiss me gently, taking me into her mouth as I caressed her shaking body while Jaewook slept beside us.

“Thank you...” She said.

“For what?” I asked.

“For doing this, for him, for me...this is it, my parting gift for him...my goodbye...” She replied.

There was a hint of sorrow in her eyes at all the years that they were together which I washed away the moment my lips touched hers once more. Stroking her inner thighs she barely registered I was inside her again, scooping out the messy cum oozing out her slit.

“I guess this is your Truth and Reconciliation.” I mused, kissing her forehead.

“Yeah, I guess so.” She said, looking at me playfully.

“What...you want more?” I asked, raising my eyebrows.

“Well...he’s asleep...so…” Karina replied.

“So…?” I asked, amused.

“So... cum down my throat while he’s not watching already.” She said devilishly.

With that, she was on my cock again kissing me down my chest ever so slowly, slurping down my meat between her lips as her tongue lapped up the remnants of my cum, previously released inside her married cunt. Running my fingers through her head while I fed her my straining cock, I reveled in the feeling of her tongue the underside of my shaft, teasing me with each lick.

“Take it...Karina...all...the...way...” I moaned, letting her gorge on my cock.

“Mmmmm...” She moaned around my cock.

Her soft hands massaged my balls in a calculating manner, squeezing my sack softly to elicit my precum to release onto her soft tongue. Each bob of her head allowed me to fuck her face deeper, glancing over to Jaewook sleeping peacefully, unknowingly next to the man who would be pumping his cum down his woman’s throat any second now. It was something she never did for him, ever, a fact I always loved as I cupped her face tenderly.

“You close...?” She asked between slurps.

“Ughhh...yeah...just...a little...more...” I moaned.

“Dump your load in my throat...fuck my mouth...” Karina replied, looking up at me wantonly.

I gripped her face and did just that, pushing my meat all the way down her gullet before releasing my seed into her mouth.

“MMmmm...mmghhhfff.” Karina moaned, taking my sperm into her stomach.

She kept sucking, her lips never relenting as she drank down my sperm with an unmatched appetite. I could tell she loved the fact that Jaewook was right next to us as she kept looking at him while sucking on my spurting dick.

“You suck me so good.” I sighed.

Stroking her face, she showed me the mess I had made in her mouth before swallowing my sticky semen in one go.

“I guess...we better tell him...” I said, with a cheeky smile.

“Hmmm...tomorrow...tonight I want you to fuck me some more...” Karina said seductively, jerking my spent cock in her hands.

#karina smut #aespa smut #kpop smut #girl group smut #female idol smut #male reader

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neil-gaiman · 2 days

Note

Hi precious Mr Gaiman!! :)

I was wondering about the creative process in writing. When you reach the point, like in Good Omens, where you already have a solid world and characters portrayed, does it happen that you really want something to happen but you realise maybe it is not the best decision for the story you wanna tell?

For example, I was thinking how amazing it would be if we got to see the moment where Crowley fell. However, in my own thought I wonder if maybe that is unnecessary and just out of my desire to watch that deep moment of Crowley's existence. And so I guess that's where my question comes from, out of that curiosity of whether it has happened to you.

Did you had different scenarios in mind that you would have loved to explore, but decided it was better not to?? Or rather you work your ass and build up the path so the story can reach those points although it didn't seem a good choice at first??

Thank you so much :)

The most important thing is always the story. Some scenes get written or even shot but don't make it into the final version, just as some scenes get imagined but don't fit in the final script.

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nurse-sainz · 2 days

Text

Unexpected Arrival

Pairing: Max Verstappen x f!reader

Warnings: mentions of pregnancy, giving birth, one? bad word.

Max and y/n get an unexpected surprise one race weekend.

The paddock was full of people as they all ran around making last-minute adjustments and began getting the cars out onto the grid ready for race day. You had mainly stayed out of the way, hanging around to see Max in between interviews and meetings with his team. You had loved race day, even before you met Max you had loved watching it on TV with your dad or with your friends, and you loved it even more so since you began dating Max.

Something felt different today though; you had not been well the past few days but had brushed it off as something you had eaten or the jet lag from following Max around. You decided to hang out in his driver's room, being away from the loud noise and cameras, preferring the quiet to curl up on the couch and cheer him on from there.

As you sat watching him, the cramps in your stomach grew worse. You knew you were not due yet, so you brushed the cramps aside, hoping to find some distraction in the race. Max was leading, as usual, but Lando was hot on his tail. You were excitedly texting your friends and knew Max would be enjoying finally having some competition. The pain became more intense and more consistent, but you did not want anything to ruin the day. You could make an emergency appointment somewhere later if the pain was still there.

With your attention turned back on the race, you were not prepared as a pain shot through you, causing you to let out a gasp. It was so intense you were almost doubled over in pain. You felt wetness between your legs, and holy shit, this was not cramps. Too much for a period…Reality kicked you worse than the cramps in the stomach. You were in labor.

It was funny really; you had watched that program once with Max and ended up turning it off after he turned to you, “How do you go nine months without realizing you have a baby inside you?”

You tried to remember the birthing advice you had seen on the crappy medical dramas you had watched, although you knew they were far from accurate, as well as advice from your friends who had babies before you. However, fear clouded your judgment and everything went out of the window.

‘Okay…this is happening. You can do this y/n. Women all over the world give birth alone and have done so for thousands of years,’ you told yourself.

You managed to reach your phone and sent a text to one of the friends you had been texting. It was incoherent and barely made sense, but hopefully, they could get word to someone in the paddock to get you help. There was no point in screaming or shouting for help; for one, you knew your body would not allow you, but also, with the noise from the paddock and the race, no one would hear you anyway.

You tried to stand but could only do so for a short while before you were doubled over in pain again. Still, you managed to shuffle to the bathroom, grab a few towels, and get yourself on the floor. The contractions were coming closer together, and if those crappy medical dramas taught you anything, you knew this baby was coming, and coming soon. With one last push, you gritted your teeth and felt a release followed by a soft baby's cry.

Trembling, you wrapped the baby in one of Max’s clean Red Bull hoodies, fitting for a Verstappen, and stared at the tiny life you had just produced in disbelief. You were shocked, overwhelmed but filled with so much love for this tiny being. As if by instinct, you picked the baby up and held the tiny bundle to your chest.

It felt like hours you sat there with your baby clutched to your chest as you tried to calm yourself down from the ordeal, but in reality, it was only minutes before there was a knock on your door followed by the arrival of the medical team. They quickly checked you and the baby over, but your mind was thinking of Max.

How were you going to explain this? Sure you had both spoken about having children before, but nothing was concrete. What if he did not want this?

Meanwhile, back on the circuit, Max had crossed the finish line closely followed by Lando and Carlos. He completed his victory lap and pulled up to the first place sign, climbing from his car and doing his signature celebration. Max was completely unaware of the miracle that had just occurred in his driver's room.

He was led to be weighed and had a quick interview before he was led to the corner by his head engineer. The atmosphere in the Red Bull garage was weird. That was the only way Max could describe it, and there was no sign of you, not that it was unusual. He knew you liked to hang in his room sometimes when you got overwhelmed. There were whispers as people looked at him, but he had just won so that was not unusual either.

It was his engineer with an unreadable expression on his face that had him wondering what the fuck was going on.

“Max…it’s y/n. Now don’t freak out but…”

That was all he heard though. That was all he needed to know before he was running to his driver's room to find you. He froze in the doorway, eyes wide as he took in the scene. You were on the floor, surrounded by medics, clutching a small wriggling bundle against your chest wrapped in one of his Red Bull Shirts. You looked exhausted. He just looked like a deer in the headlights.

“Max…” you whispered. “Meet your daughter.”

He rushed to your side, falling on his knees beside you as he carefully wrapped his arms around you both and placed a kiss on your temple.

“What? How did we? You did this?”

You chuckled at him lightly, you had the same questions, but in that moment with him by your side and your daughter in your arms, you fell in love with him all over again.

“You’re incredible.”

You were utterly exhausted as you leaned into his side. After a moment, the medics intervened and informed you they needed to get you to the medical center. A few people from Max’s team stood by the door as they watched the scene unfold, snapping a picture of the soft moment.

The moment was broken when Lando made his way through the crowd, “Max, the podium is about to…fucking hell, is that a baby?”

#f1 fanfic #f1 fanfiction #f1 x reader #formula 1 fanfic #formula 1 fanfiction #formula one x reader #max verstappen #max verstappen x reader #max verstapped x you #max verstappen x y/n #my writing #beth writes

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cheriladycl01 · 2 days

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Could you do fic for Fernando Alonso with wife reader?(no age gap). He saw that someone was flirting with her and she was oblivious to it. Then, he swoops in to ‘save’ her from a bad flirt when in reality they were just jealous. He also feels insecure about his age and to make him feel better, she reveals that she had a surprise for him. You decide what it was. Just something fluff and romantic. Tag me later!! Thanks :)))

You make me feel so …. I don’t know the word in English! -McLaren Fernando Alonso x ObliviousWife! Reader

Plot: Marrying Fernando Alonso was the best decision you ever made, you loved how manly and protective he was with you. However, recently he’s been getting jealous of the other men of the grid and how they treat you.

Credit to blueballsracing for the GIF

Fernando Alonso had been your husband for many years. You were sort of childhood sweethearts who married young on a whim and stuck together through it all.

You were able to travel the world with the person, later to be people you loved most. However recently you had a glow about it, maybe it was the fact that you were 1 month pregnant not to the knowledge of Fernando and not yet showing but just had that dewy, glowing skin that made you look radiant.

Everyone in the paddock took notice of this change, not that they couldn’t appreciate your attractiveness before, but now it just made them swoon anytime you breezed into the garage in one of your pretty sun dresses.

Today was no different, it was a beautiful sunny day in Mexico, and you were handing out water and fruit for the mechanics and engineers hard at work on your husbands car. You knew them all by name, you made sure you did, so greeting them was never an issue.

However, nobody told you of the rookie employee that had joined them for Mexico in McLaren garage. You immediately started to introduce yourself to the man, talking to him about what he was doing to the car and asking when he had joined them.

Unknown to you, the mechanic was smitten with you and everything you were telling him about your life. He was listening to every word you were telling him, and that was the effect you had on a lot of people.

“So are you, I dunno coming to the team dinner tonight?” He asks scratching the back of his neck and your about to answer with an animated yes until you feel a hand snake round your waist and pull you closer to them.

You look up and see your husband making you smile and pull him into a gentle kiss.

“Mmm my wife will be attending the dinner” Fernando says, you can’t tell but it’s said with a grit in his teeth and a sharp foxy look in his eyes that tells him to back off.

Fernando was used to you getting male attention, but lately it was constant and you didn’t even know it was happening, you were just so oblivious and he hated that you didn’t realise all these people were flirting with you.

And that mechanic wasn’t even the last of it.

Maybe it was something in the Mexican air, but even Fernando couldn’t seem to keep his hands off you over the weekend, especially after your run in with Lewis, and your old friend Jenson.

When Lewis come up to you, you had a big grin on your face.

“Hey darling. How are you?” He asked kissing either side of your cheeks looking over you with those eyes that would draw any woman in, but you. You had no idea those flirty eyes were intended that way. You just saw the kind chocolate brown and assumed the sparkle and glint in there was happiness to see you.

“I’m really good Lew! Just getting to that point of the day where I’m so exhausted, not all of us are young athletes that look 10 year more youthful than they are” you joked to him making him laugh.

“Mmm you definitely don’t struggle in that department” he says looking over you and you beam at him.

“It’s just so warm, do you recon you can help me take my jacket off? I’m not sure where Fernando is, and the buttons always get caught in my hair” you ask, looking round quickly to see if you can in fact bother your husband with the minor inconvenience at hand.

“Of course, turn around for me” he instructs before pulling your hair back and carefully peeling the tight jacket from your body, now showing off the full look of the sundress you were wearing and how it clung to your most valuable assets in the best ways.

“New dress” Lewis asks observing it making you nod.

“Mmmm, I love getting to wear these kinds of dresses in this heat, they make me feel very pretty” you smile as you shove your hands into the pockets of your dress that when you first got it you couldn’t stop telling Fernando about them, before doing a little spin for Lewis, showing of the small slit in the dress.

Fernando came over the minute he saw the look on Lewis face, who was holding your jacket as he spoke to you.

“Lewis” Fernando faked a smile at the fellow driver, once again wrapping his arms around you so you were in front of him with a tight grip and nowhere to go.

“Hello Fernando” Lewis smiles coyly with a slight smirk. The two make idle conversation before Fernandos dragging you away trying to lightly ask you to stay out in the garage and don’t stray away.

But once he was in the car, you found yourself needing the toilet (Curse the start of your baby sitting on your bladder) and another drink due to the high temperatures Mexico was experiencing that day.

There you found Jenson who was just finishing up with an interview before his eyes landed on you.

“Well if it isn’t Y/N Alonso, looking as beautiful as ever” he grins and you pull him into a hug.

You’d known Jenson for pretty much your whole life being childhood friends from Primary school in the UK. You met Fernando when you went to university in Spain, you always joked that you would have still met someone even if it was later in life because Jenson would have likely introduced you.

So when Fernando saw you and him jokingly messing around with one another his face was like thunder.

Jenson could immediately tell and said a quick goodbye to you not wanting to be at the brunt of the Spaniards anger.

“Fernando baby, what’s the matter?” You ask, coming close to him and trying to thread your fingers through his but he shoves your hand away lightly.

“When will you see it?” He demands and you cock your head to the side, not understanding what he meant, making him groan at how cute you looked.

“See what mi amor?” You ask, using Spanish to see if he’d be calmer.

“You don’t see all these BOYS flirting with you and trying to win you over and you don’t see how it affects me and upsets me! And you make me so mad when you entertain it’s and and I don’t know the world in English because I don’t even think there is a word to describe it!” He exclaims all at once making you step back.

He was really really hurt by all this… and you hadn’t been able to see it.

“Have you ever thought that I don’t notice it because I only have eyes for you?” You ask softly, taking his hand happy and satisfied he lets you this time.

“I know I know, I just think… all of these men coming up to you … they are younger than us and it just makes me think they could give you more than I can” he sighs and looks at you with those little puppy dog eyes.

“Don’t you dare say that!” You exclaim almost offended. He had in fact brought your age into it aswell!

“How dare you say that they could give me more than you can, when you damn well know you’ve given me everything!” You say raising your voice.

“Fernando, I love you, and only you! How can you not see that!” You ask.

“I do see it, I just someone feel insecure and I worry that we are too late to experience certain things and its all my fault coz I put it off because of my career!” He explains and your head cocks to the side once again, wondering what he feels like he’s too late to experience.

“What, what do you think we’ve left too late?” You question.

“Kids, travelling the world without my career being there … I dunno I just had a different timeline for us when we first met” he sighs rubbing his temple before pulling you closer to him and resting his head in the crook of you neck as he takes in your sent.

“Baby, there’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you. I was going to wait for after the race so we could tell your parents too but I think this will cheer you up a little … and stop you from worrying about me running over with your colleagues” you joke and he sighs with a light smile pulling back to look over you.

“What is it mi amor?” He asks looking over you. You take his hand and place it on your still pretty flat stomach.

“You can cross a kid of your timeline” you say nervously with a small gulp worried for his reaction.

“Are you being serious?” He asks with a huge grin and he feels around you more to see if there is a more obvious sign.

“Yeah, i only found out before the flight out here” you nod smiling at him and he lifts you up, being as careful as possible with you as he pulls you into a hug.

“I love you so so much! I’m sorry I get so jealous of you, but you can’t blame me when I’m married to such a beautiful woman. Thank you for everything” he smiles pulling you into a light kiss.

Fernando couldn’t be more content with his life right now.

Taglist:

@littlesatanicassholebitch @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @daemyratwst @lauralarsen @the-untamed-soul l @thewulf @itsjustkhaos @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @summissss @gulphulp @starfusionsworld @jspitwall l @sierruhhhh @georgeparisole @youcannotcancelquidditch @tallbrownhairsarcastic @ourteenagetragedy @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @spilled-coffee-cup @mehrmonga @bigsimperika @blueberry64857959 @eiraethh @curseofhecate @alliwantisadonut @dark-night-sky-99 @i-wish-this-was-me @tallrock35 @butterfly-lover @barnestatic @landossainz @darleneslane @barcelonaloverf1life @r0nnsblog @ilove-tswizzle @laneyspaulding19 @malynn @viennakarma @landosgirlxoxo @marie0v @yourbane @teamnovalak @nikfigueiredo @fionaschicken @0picels0 @tinydeskwriter @ironmaiden1313 @splaterparty0-0 @formula1mount

#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 x you #formula 1 #formula one #formula one fanfiction #fernando alonso fluff #fernando alonso x you #fernando alonso x reader #fernando alonso imagine #fernando alonso fanfic #fernando alonso #fa14 fanfic #fa14 fic #fa14 imagine #fa14 x reader #fa14

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angelsassassin · 2 days

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Home • Spencer Reid x reader

In which Spencer comes home to you

Spencer was a free man, and you were there waiting for him.

Details: fem!reader x spencer reid, established relationship

Warnings: nothing that I can think of to be honest.

Caution: MINORS DNI!

AN: I spent like ten minutes looking for this gif it’s actually so sad.

Spencer was a free man. After three months of being in prison following a wrongful conviction, he was free. JJ had come to tell him the good news, telling him that after a few days, you’d be coming to pick him up.

When that day finally came, Spencer woke up feeling better than he had in those months. He woke up knowing he was finally able to hug you again, kiss you again, touch you again.

He had missed you so much, more than he could ever imagine was possible. When the guards came to get him, he began to feel nervous. As he put on the suit he had worn the day he was sentenced to prison in court, his heart began to beat quicker than it ever had done before.

He had instructed the team to not let you see him while he was in prison, not wanting you to see how broken he was. He hadn’t seen you in three months, and only spoken to you over the phone a handful of times.

But now, he was finally able to be with you again.

You were waiting outside the prison, leaning against your car. You were shaking due to how nervous you were. Every sound that came from the prison would make you look up, hoping to see Spencer, your loving boyfriend, finally walk out of there.

Eventually, you heard a different noise, and you immediately knew it was time. You looked up, seeing guards exiting the building, and Spencer following behind. His eyes found yours almost immediately, as if he knew exactly how to find you. The guard opened the last gate that stood between the two of you, and let Spencer walk out of it.

He was a free man.

Upon seeing him walk out of the gate, your legs moved quicker than your mind could register what was happening. You jogged up to him, almost throwing yourself into his arms when you finally reached him. You wrapped your arms around him, and he wrapped his arms around you.

The two of you stood like that for a few minutes, before he pulled away and looked at you, really looked at you.

“Hi.” He said, with a small smile growing on his face.

“Hey.” You replied.

Those two words were all it took for Spencer to grab your face, pulling you closer to him and placing his lips down onto yours. The kiss was electric, it was passionate. Three months worth of missing each other, of uncertainty, it was all poured into the kiss.

Once you pulled away, needing to breathe, you placed your head on his chest. “I love you so much.” You mumbled into him.

“I love you, angel. I love you so much.” He says as he kisses your head. “God, I missed you.”

It felt like eternity before you finally pulled away from each other, looking deep into one another’s eyes. “How about I take you home?”

Spencer eagerly nodded.

The drive back to your home was silent, but it was a comfortable silence. Spencer kept his hand on yours the entire time you drove, not wanting to let go and be void of your touch for any longer. He glanced over at you several times, each time he did, his heart swelled with love.

As you entered your home, he looked around, noticing that it hadn’t changed at all; everything was the exact same. The pictures that lined the walls were the same, his satchel still in the exact same spot he had left it in.

“This doesn’t feel real.” He whispered. You turned to face him and placed both of your hands on his face.

“It is, Spence. You’re home. You’re back. It’s over.” You assure him. “Everything’s over.” At your words, Spencer wrapped his arms around you, burying his head into the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent.

Spencer never admitted it, but your smell, it always gave him comfort. The way your hair and your body smelled like the shampoo you use, the one you insist on never changing, it made him feel at home. It made him feel like he was safe, and okay. And in that moment, that was all he needed.

He needed to know he was safe, and that he was okay. He needed to know that he was home, and that he would never go back to prison. He needed to know that you were there, that you would always be there, even in his worst moments.

You wrapped your arms around him, and let out a sigh. “You know, I finally feel like I can breathe again. It feels like… like I’m complete again.” You whisper into his chest.

Spencer didn’t reply, afraid that if he spoke, he’d break down. All he could do was hold onto you tighter, pulling you even closer to him, if that was even humanly possible.

Despite not saying anything, Spencer felt the exact same way. For three months, it felt like pieces of him were being chipped away, like he was becoming a shell of a man. There was a very real possibility that he would never be able to be the same man again. But as he held you, he felt complete. He was a changed man, of course, but the one thing he knew would never change, that could never change, was his love for you, and how much he needed you.

As he took deep breaths in order to steady his heart rate, he realised in that moment that he could never live without you ever again. He knew that he needed you like he needed oxygen, like he needed water. Spencer Reid needed you, and he was going to make sure you spent the rest of your life knowing how much he needed you, how much he loved you. He was never going to let you go, and he knew exactly what to do, and how he was going to prove that to you.

~~~

AN: This series will not be in chronological order of how they meet and fall in love and blah blah blah. It’s more about the little moments between Spencer and reader throughout their years together.

#series #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #prison reid

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novelbear · 1 day

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cute (and clumsy) cooking prompts 🥣🍪

a prompt list by @novelbear ᵔᴥᵔ

"come make tanghulu with me!" "no. we burnt all the sugar last time. you remember? we managed to burn. sugar."

accidentally using sugar instead of salt (or vice versa) and trying to quickly think of a way to cover it up before the other finds out

teaching the other how to use a certain tool (can opener, potato peeler, etc.) since they're somehow doing it so terribly, dangerously wrong.

bickering over whether or not they should follow the recipe word for word

"cheese? i thought you said peas. i bought peas." "...eh, i guess that's fine too. put them in."

setting like three separate timers for different things and then forgetting which timer went to what.

one lying about knowing how to cook and promising to walk the other through a recipe for a date idea (then having to spend all day trying to perfect the recipe themselves)

^ or they can just wing it and chaos ensues naturally

finding out the oven is broken after already prepping everything together

"god, could you stir any slower?" "you try this then!"

^ *proceeds to stir perfectly fine whilst the other glares in annoyance*

having to pause and tend to the other because they burnt a singular finger

"did you wash those?" [very obviously lying] "....of course."

sweetly lifting a spoon to their mouth to taste a little of the food

^ this immediately backfiring because the food was still too hot.

[after the meal is successfully cooked] "so we agree we're not attempting this again, right? "not for a long while."

one ordering delivery halfway through and the other just stares in disbelief

^ "you're serious? we're working our asses off here and you ordered chicken." "we had a rough start, okay? i thought we would have given up by now."

dancing and making fun out of having to clean up the mess in the kitchen

spending the next day in bed together as they had somehow given themselves food poisoning.

#otp prompts #writing prompts #imagine your otp #otp writing #writeblr #prompt list #otp #romance prompts #fluff prompts #cooking prompts #cute prompts #writing dialogue #dialogue prompts #dialogue ideas #domestic prompts #sweet prompts #request

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tojisun · 2 days

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sugar, spice, everything on ice (hockey au)

part of the ‘if fwb’ spinoff // simon riley x f!reader

johnny’s been… doubting, you see, about the validity of simon’s dating life.

like, for example, if he really was dating anyone.

simon looks content in a way that he never was before—intense eyes turned down towards his phone, unapproachable aura less angry but more settled, like he’s warding off people not because of his dislike but more so because he’s not available anymore.

not like he ever made himself available before, but it’s fundamentally different this time around; self-imposed walls brought down to make room for unbridled fulfillment.

he looks like he’s won the damn cup.

and that’s what makes johnny twitch—someone out there was just as, if not more, valued as the championship cup to simon, but he’s never introduced anyone to them.

not a picture nor an update nor even a PSA that they need to commission another WAG jacket for his partner because simon is tight-lipped about whoever it was he’s seeing. it’s not like he’s even dancing around the fact, it’s just that whoever it was he’s dating was never free.

not for a game nor a night-out nor a party. in simon’s house.

this level of secrecy was just unheard of. even the other men in the league who have a tight leash on their private lives still have living proof of their partners unlike simon who leaves it at, “she’s busy,” like that covers anything.

which is why johnny would like to go on record and say: he is totally valid for choosing to crash at simon’s place without letting him know.

he remembers getting wasted with the others, then refusing to be driven home, only to take a cab to simon’s place. he must have been coherent enough to remember the code for simon’s house, and was shockingly coordinated enough to even punch it in, but his memories begin to splinter there.

next thing johnny knows, he’s waking up, feeling like he’s been hit by a freight train. his tongue is heavy inside his mouth, the pungent taste of last night’s alcohol rising from the back of his throat like bile. he groans, blinking blurry eyes as he tries to remember where he’s at or what he’s done, only for nausea to wash over him so intensely he flops back down onto the bed—

he pats at the cushioning.

—onto the sofa then.

by the devil, what did he do last night? got him drinking like he’s got a new liver to replace this one he fucked with.

christ. he needs water, or a whole bottle of mouthwash, honestly.

“mactavish?”

johnny jumps, twisting his head to the side at the call of his name. it’s simon, of course it is, but he looks dishevelled, unkempt in a way that looks criminal because—johnny roves his eyes over his friend—who the hell looks that good when they’ve just woken up?

simon looks like he can be the next cover of inside fitness; give tyler fucking seguin a run for his own money.

“wha’,” is all johnny gets to say because he starts sputtering, dizziness hitting him intensely again. he gags, and only has enough mind to cover his mouth with his fist.

“jesus– down the hall. go,” simon barks and johnny warbles his thanks before locking himself in the guest bathroom.

johnny comes back out to the smell of freshly brewed coffee and melted butter wafting through. simon did say he had a problem with his kitchen vents which made cooking a problem, but johnny sure isn’t complaining right now. although, he supposes that it is a whole different problem when it’s steak or some ribs that simon’s firing up.

oh well, johnny thinks, scratching his side as he ambles to the island, pointedly quiet because simon might kick him out before breakfast is even done.

simon eyes him with a muted approval and johnny grins because, hey, he just secured free breakfast.

he’s about to break the silence, to apologize once more he guesses, when the sounds of padded feet descending from the stairs leading up to simon’s lavishly decorated—sarcasm intended—second floor pierces through the silence.

johnny’s back straightens, his exhausted mind clicking awake.

he turns to his friend but simon’s already angled towards the kitchen door, facing away from johnny. he looks relaxed, previous half-bareness now covered up with a thin white shirt, and johnny doesn’t know why he missed it but simon looks like a perfect picture of a boyfriend fixing up breakfast post-coitus.

“jesus–” johnny begins to say, the pieces linking because yeah, simon’s never denied that he’s been doing some dating around and it’s just johnny’s drunken whim to assume that the most talented ice hockey player of this decade was lying about his relationship status and—good lord, that’s a fucking person diving in simon’s arms, alright.

johnny watches, with his mouth agape, as simon and the mystery woman talk to each other in hushed whispers, his friend having to bend forward to make up for the height difference.

johnny watches, like the third-wheel he is, as simon laughs, actual quiet chuckles and not that children-crying-in-terror-inducing cackle, before nuzzling his nose over your own, and breathing you in.

johnny watches the quiet kiss, just lips pecking each other, and it’s all so soft and tender and johnny feels really, really bad that he didn’t get to give simon and his girl the privacy you two surely deserve and—

your eyes open, flitting to him because johnny is sure that he’s standing out amidst what must be a normally empty kitchen. he doesn’t even get to count three seconds before you’re screaming, lurching out of simon’s hold and hiding behind his bulk in your terror.

simon, screw him, seems to not have cared that johnny was privy to such an intimate moment and just turns enough to catch your attention again before murmuring reassurances. he says things like, “mactavish? the punk ass who got his hair shaved for the new season only to realize no one’s actually gon’ see it because of the helmet? remember?”

“what,” johnny chokes out, embarrassed that that’s what simon told you about and not, like, his player number or something.

“oh,” you gasp out anyway, clearly having heard of the shaved-sides and using it as a marker for johnny. “oh!”

you dance away from behind simon to make your way to johnny, your previous embarrassment gone from your gait. he’s so sure, though, that he’s seen you from somewhere, but the thought’s dashed out of his mind when you chirp, “you’re my best friend’s favourite player!”

“yeah?” johnny replies, gaining his confidence back.

“yeah! she won’t stop showing me the highlights of your guys’ game against that big german fella an’ his team!”

johnny laughs, his own giddiness ramping up. he remembers that game, alright. he remembers the miracle play during the final period when price was able to score an empty-netter. he remembers how, in his adrenaline-induced ecstasy, johnny turned to the player to his side, konig, and laughed in his face.

johnny made headlines then, and he’s saved every single one. his fiancee even printed a copy of her favourite shot and stuck it in her wallet.

(“for good luck,” she said with a wink, like johnny doesn’t have his prick twitching in her fist.)

“well, y’got anything for me to sign for her?”

“uhh…”

“guess you can use that one group photo our marketing team gave to us,” simon finally pipes up, and johnny turns, surprise lining his face at seeing the rich spread of breakfast.

he didn’t even notice simon setting up the table, too engrossed in the high that came from reliving the memory of laughing at konig’s face which resulted to him being pushed into the glass protector by a protective horangi.

not even that had dampened johnny’s elation then and now.

“oh yeah. thanks!” you say to simon before you run out.

you’re barely out of their eyesights when johnny turns to simon with a grin.

“what.”

“oh, you fucken’ sap!” johnny sings because he’s still too hungover to come up to simon and playfully punch him. “and why were ye hidin’ lassie?”

simon grumbles something as he turns, pretending to busy himself with the now-empty coffee pot.

“wha’s’at?”

“i said,” simon begins, heaving out a sigh. “that we jus’ became official last week.”

“oh, shit,” johnny whispers sagely. he blinks. “so, uh, who’s the one you’ve been callin’ yer girl?”

“oh fuck off johnny,�� simon hisses, sputtering, before throwing the tea towel at him.

“what now!?” johnny yelps, ducking away from the soaring towel. “what’d i do now–” he gasps, realization dawning on him. “you didn’t.”

simon looked like he was going to say something but by then you were running back with the photo and a marker pen, telling him your friend’s name—alessandra, “or sandy!”—for johnny to sign.

while johnny’s busy practicing his signature on a scrap of newspaper that simon gave to him, he pretends not to hear the giggly whispers between his friend and his friend’s new but longtime-pining-for girlfriend.

“and me? why aren’t you asking f’r my signature?”

“oh ‘cuz y’r mine.”

johnny dutifully ignores the lips smacking sounds as he finally signs the picture, making sure to add devil horns on simon’s head.

serves him right.

i just. love fluff and hockey au sm 😞

#hockey au #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley #cod x reader #suns #guys we are so back (to fixating to the point i cant even function anymore) !!!!#im so sorry if u guys are tired of this :(( i just love this au sm. its so refreshing

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kedreeva · 2 days

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After a month-long fight, Artemis' system finally threw in the towel. We put her to sleep this morning.

I am crushed, and I don't really know what else to say.

She started slowing down shortly after her last suprelorin implant, and the xrays showed something, a weird shadow or cross-peritoneal sac encompassing her heart and liver, but none of the three avian vets who saw it could interpret what it actually was or what to do about it. We started her on some painkillers and antibiotics, and tube feeding liquid chow so she would not lose condition if she was not feeling well. We changed up antibiotics, we gave her an antiemetic for nausea, we tried different pain meds...

For a little while, she seemed to be improving. Whatever it was, it wasn't as visible on the next xrays, and her bloodwork looked better. She was moving around more and sleeping less (she'd been sleeping all day at the start), she could get up and down to the big perch on her own.

And then last night, her crop was a little squishy when I gave her her evening meds. I hoped that it was just that she'd finally eaten a good meal before bed, but when I came out today to give her morning meds, the blueberries from the evening before were still in her crop. That's NOT good. Her urates were also stained yellow. I called the vet and got an emergency appt, but I knew before I left that I would probably have to make the call to end it. I gave her a little time out in the sunshine and grass while I got the car ready, and then we drove down. She sat quietly, and didn't complain during the exam, but ultimately the radiograph showed the problem was still present, and her kidneys were shining bright. Her GI tract had slowed to a stop, her heartbeat was slowed way down, and her urates were showing crystals.

So, I said my goodbyes, and the vet did as well. Everyone was fond of Artemis- she was always well behaved and sweet to everyone she ever met. She loved people, she loved cuddles. She was only 6. I knew she wasn't going to make it a full, normal lifespan, not with everything that was wrong from the get go, but I had hoped for a few more years. I got a few more than she'd have gotten with anyone else. It's never enough.

Artemis was my favorite, from the moment she hatched. She was never mean- not to humans, not to other birds. She is the ONLY bird I've ever owned that was like that. She loved Stan from the moment she met him, and tolerated his weird social habits to the end of his days. They were ALWAYS together, always sitting in the sun together, always following one another. I'm honestly not surprised she followed him to death- there are so many anecdotes from keepers who have birds that spend weeks, even months, grieving after losing a close flock mate. It wouldn't surprise me at all to find Artemis had been holding onto life with both hands for Stan, and with his passing she gave up.

I am going to miss painting with her so much. I have her first painting, and her last, in my bedroom, and I'm really glad I didn't let that last one go yet.

I don't really know what else to say, besides that she was my heart. I loved her, and I hate that she's gone. There will never, ever be another lady like her.

Sleep sweet, lovely. I'll miss you til the end of my days, and I look forward to joining you at the meadow when that comes.

#artemis #peafowl #peahens #my pets #previous pets #animal death for ts #animal death #pet death for ts #pet death #This year has really been raking me over the fucking coals

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celestie0 · 2 days

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gojo satoru x reader | college au [18+]

kickoff drabble no2. making it up to you

ᰔ pairing. college au - soccer player! gojo x film major! reader

ᰔ drabble summary. after a pretty angsty period between you two, gojo tries to make it up to you with flowers & a kitten he finds on the side of the road. (note: for new readers, this is in continuation of my long fic gojo x reader series “kickoff”!! masterlist is linked below) ᰔ main storyline summary. gojo satoru is the most popular guy on your college campus. he's tall, funny, hot, not to mention he's the most talented soccer forward the school has seen in years. but he's also a frat dude, which puts him in a world very different from your own, as he spends most of his nights partying & drinking while you spend most of yours working on your annoying film major assignments. but when he reaches out to you for a favor, you realize that helping him out might have something in it for you too.

ᰔ warnings/tags. 18+, fem reader, fluff, angst, smut, college au, fraternities, sororities, partying, drinking/alcohol, romance, jealousy, pining, slow burn, opposites to lovers, friends to lovers, she falls first he falls harder, gojo being an idiot, marijuana use, sexism, sexual harassment (verbal only)

ᰔ chapter. drabble #2

ᰔ words. 2.2k

a/n. ahhh in the original ver of ch10, i actually wrote these scenes from reader’s pov, but cut them out and condensed them bc the word count was already super high haha. so it’s nice i have a chance to include them like this!! although this is written from gojo’s side of the events :”) hope you enjoy <3

nav. masterlist

☾·̩͙꙳ moodboard no.1 :: ♬.*ﾟplaylist

Gojo finds himself crouched down on the sidewalk outside of your apartment complex as he plucks thorns off of roses one by one, flicking them off of his finger and almost straight into his eyeball with how closely he’s inspecting the stems for any pointed edges.

Are roses poisonous? It’d be bad if they were, since he got pricked in about five different places when he rummaged through bushes at the city park to pluck them for you, walking straight into spring foliage and the no trespassing sign wasn’t going to stop him if it meant he could get the dopamine rush of seeing a smile on your face. But he couldn’t have you getting pricked the way he did. Just in case they were poisonous. And also because he’s not too keen on hurting you anymore than he already has.

“Hm?” he hums as he turns one of the roses in his hands, ankles starting to strain from holding his body weight up on them for so long, something Coach Yaga would make him run laps for, given he skips warm-up stretches at the top of every practice and his lack of flexibility was starting to show. Then he’s wondering if you were any flexible, and the thought threatens to make him horny at 6:17am.

There’s a ladybug creeping up the stem of a soft petalled red rose, missing the opportunity of seamlessly blending into the pigment since it just crawls onto one of the green leaves instead. Absolutely abysmal survival instincts, Gojo thinks to himself. He lets it be, regardless.

Well the flowers didn’t really put a smile on your face, turns out you don’t enjoy having to answer to a doorbell at the crack of dawn on the one day of the week you got to sleep in. He used all the people-reading skills he could possibly muster, and got the vibe that you were annoyed by the gesture. Maybe he could’ve chosen better flowers? He doesn’t know anything about flowers, although he probably should, since his mother used to run a florist shop before she traded it in to run a KFC downtown, near the city’s high school. Better business than selling shriveled up tulips, was how she defended her decision. But maybe if she’d kept it, she could have shown him what arrangement of flowers he should make for a girl he’s trying to apologize to.

You’re rubbing your eye, standing in an oversized stained old T-shirt and some shorts underneath that barely reveal themselves under the hem of the shirt. Cute, so fucking cute. Unbearably, really, but you deny it when he says it.

“You woke me up. And I look like bigfoot standing in front of you,” you say, still rubbing at your eye with a pout on your face.

“I still think you look pretty,” he says and now you’re scratching the top of your head where your hair piles up with coils that look like cotton candy.

“What are you doing here?” you ask through a sleepy voice that sounds a little grumpy.

“I got these for you,” he says, leaning against the doorframe of the entryway and holding out the arrangement of flowers he jumped over a fence to steal. In his defense, none of the supermarkets on the way were open at this hour, but the desperation and urge he had to see you today was so overwhelmingly strong, so he had to find an excuse.

You take the flowers from him, which have been sparsely held together by the newspaper he took from someone’s driveway, and you blink up at him. Your face was a little puffy with sleep, and he can’t help the pursed grin that makes its way onto his face. In very much contrast to your stone face.

“Did you pluck these for me??” you ask, peering into the bouquet.

“Uh-huh,” he affirms.

“From where?”

“The,” he points over his shoulder, “the city park.”

Apparently pilfering flowers from an area of no trespassing was not the romantic gesture he thought it would be, or possibly waking you up just to give them to you was the crime, since you mumbled something about wanting to go back to sleep and then shoo’d him away before he had the chance to ask you what you were doing this weekend. But that’s fine, maybe he’ll get another chance.

Divine intervention came the very next day. Why Gojo considers a kitten he finds in the bushes as an order from God to go talk to you again is a mystery even his good conscience wouldn’t understand, but he’s on a mission to make it up to you. It’s the only thing he wants to do.

He was taking a two minute break during his morning run, pacing down sidewalk panting slightly underneath spring heat, when he heard something crying deep within the bushes. Without a second thought, he’s pushing his way through branches that were a lot more spiky than anticipated, one tearing straight through the fabric of his shirt, but he finally spotted it—

A tiny little soot sprite sitting curled up in a ball between dead leaves and spiky twigs, the round of its form rising and falling fast with its heavy breathing just like Gojo is right now. It lifts his head up, triangular ears dropping then raising, dropping then raising, as it makes sense of its surroundings and eventually it cocks its head all the way up to look Gojo straight in the eye.

A kitten?

With paws rustling the leaves underneath it, it tilts its head and resumes its cries. Loud and sounding so hoarse from exhaustion in its throat that it sounds like a kazoo. All left alone and abandoned.

Gojo picks it up slowly, noticing it’s smaller than the size of his hand, and he holds it up into the air to inspect it. How does he know if it’s a girl or a boy? He pulls his phone out and types it into Google. Okay, in male kittens, the genital shape resembles a colon punctuation mark (:). He looks back at the kitten with no preservation of its genital honor. Yup, it’s a boy.

He has nothing against cats, he’s just not really used to them. His family had a dog growing up, a stunning Mongolian mastiff he could fight and wrestle with like a bear for as long as he could remember through to his teens, but because of that, he has no clue how to be gentle with an animal. And this little kitten seemed like it needed a whole lot of gentle from the way it shivers as he holds it in his arms.

He knows someone gentle.

In hindsight, he should’ve taken a glance in someone’s car door window to inspect for twigs and leaves in his hair before showing up at your front door, and he also should’ve felt weary over the ripped up condition of his shirt, but he didn’t think of those things until he was already standing at your front door. He briefly considered going shirtless, but then the idea of him showing up shirtless to your front door with no notice at an hour that wasn’t much better than the hour he visited you yesterday was something his gut was telling him wouldn’t be a wise thing to do. Although showing up shirtless most places has hardly ever failed him, he just had the feeling that you’d be different.

The kitten he holds in the curled palm of his hand trembles as it claws at Gojo’s shirt, calming down when it feels the warmth of his torso, and Gojo starts to find it cute. Then the door of your apartment flings open.

You stand there, looking neater than yesterday with your hair kept and you’re in some jeans with a light pink University of Tokyo T-shirt tucked into them. Your tote bag was slung around your shoulder, like you were just about to leave.

“S-Satoru?” you squeak out after jumping a little where you stand.

“Hey,” he says, leaning against the doorframe again since you seem to never allow him inside your apartment. Apparently the doorframe is as far as he’ll get.

“What are you doing here?” you ask in the same way you asked it yesterday, and you tuck strands of hair behind your ear. His heart beats faster at the sight, and the kitten probably feels it from the way it starts purring with a nuzzling head under his ribcage.

He pulls the tiny thing from his front and extends his arm out to you, as it sits dazzled and confused in the palm of his hand from the sudden loss of surrounding heat, and then it looks at you. And you look at it. “I brought you a cat.”

“Wha—” you stutter, and your face entirely softens, lower lip jutting out slightly in a pout as you use both hands to pick it up off of his hand, it’s tiny white paws dangling in the air before you settle it snug in your arms, and it chirps a mew before pushing its little face against the pillows of your breasts. Lucky bastard. “But why???”

He shrugs, crossing his arms now as an easy smile makes way onto his face. “I don’t know. I thought you’d think it’s cute and you’d want to keep it.”

“But I can’t,” you whine, your fingers scratching the top of its head and its purrs become louder. “I can’t keep cats in my apartment.” You lift the fluff ball up into the air, its tiny stubby tail now slightly wagging from side to side like it’s a puppy. He makes note that you are a person who has the ability to turn kittens into puppies.

“Keep it anyway,” he tells you, “you wouldn’t be the first college student to unlawfully keep a cat in their apartment.”

“No, no, no, you don’t understand,” you say, cradling the kitten in the nook of your elbow again. “I really can’t.” And your lips turn downwards into a frown, “this complex checks on tenants often. The people who rented this apartment before us couldn’t renew their lease because they got caught having a cat in the unit.”

His eyes widen. “Oh…that—…that sucks.”

“I can’t keep him,” you say, voice trembling slightly as you look down at it. It looked like it had fallen asleep in your arms. “I really want to, but I can’t. And he’s so cuuute, and tiny and sweet and—” He sees tears start to sheen in your eyes.

Uh.

Uh-oh.

Fuck.

Fuck fuck fuck.

This was not going how he thought it would in his head.

He wasn’t supposed to make you CRY.

That was the last fucking thing he was supposed to do.

“Hey, hey, hey,” he tries to comfort you when he hears you sniffle and sees your lower lip tremble. He holds your shoulders to get you to look at him, and his heart physically hurts at the sight of seeing you so sad. For fuck’s sake, you were going to ruin him. “I’m sorry, I—…I didn’t know that, I shouldn’t have brought it here without knowing that first, it was stupid and—”

“Yes, it was,” you say with a broken voice, shrugging his hold off you and using the back of your hand to wipe at a tear rolling down your cheek.

He pulls you into him now, holding you in his arms against your resistance but you eventually tuck your head into his chest to continue your sniffling as he rests his chin on top of your head and rubs a soothing thumb over your arm. The kitten is sandwiched between you two now, and is probably in the most amount of bliss it’s ever had in its extremely short life so far from the amount of warmth it's being surrounded by right now.

He feels the cool dampness of your tears soaking through his shirt, and he holds you tighter. “I’m sorry. Really, I am.” It feels like he’s apologizing for a lot more than the kitten right now.

You pull one of your arms out, the one that wasn’t holding the kitten, from between the two of you and hold onto his shirt tightly, the places where it’s ripped tearing open even more. “You just don’t think sometimes and it really hurts,” you say, muffled.

He lets out a deep sigh, lips brushing against the top of your head and you two stand still here in the imaginary forcefield of your apartment’s doorframe. “I’ll be better. I promise.”

“Don’t be sweet right now,” you say, voice cracking again, “that hurts even more.”

He’s really confused, in all honesty, but he masks it and can only hope out of the ten things he does wrong, he can do at least one right. “Okay.”

You push yourself out of his hold and hand him back the kitten, all in a rush, and he notices you refuse to look at the soot sprite anymore, like you’re trying not to get attached. “Take him, and leave,” you say, hoisting your totebag higher up onto your shoulder.

“But—” he tries to protest but you push him a few paces backwards by palms against his chest until he’s standing outside into the hallway. There’s a slight scrunch to your brow from your irritation of him, and maybe his problem is that he just finds it cute. And then you shut the door on him.

After a moment of stunned silence, he hears the kitten meow incessantly in his palm.

The little shit’s mocking me, he thinks.

[end]

a/n. thanks for reading!! this was silly to write haha. tbh i think reader was on her period during this scene which is why she became very emotional. i may be projecting bc i sob like a little bitch over cute animals when im on my period LOL. and gojo is trying his best u guys he’s just a little dumb ok ✋🏼😔 his looks have got him this far we have to have patience w a pretty privilege victim okay!!!!

thanks so much for reading!! also i really want to write a drabble of gojo becoming a cat dad now aaaaa

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note: i won’t be doing extended taglist for drabbles, sorry :”) also pls lmk if your tagging preferences change at any time!!

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rin-may-1103 · 2 days

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The Wrong Robin Au (part four)

Previous | Next

Danny slowed his car down, staring at the black iron gate coming into view; Bats and ivy welded on in an elegant pattern, obviously more thought-out than The Drake's ducks had been. He had to give it to Tim, the kid had been right about how stupid the ducks looked.

Glancing around, Danny found he was completely alone on the dirt road. The gray sky slowly brightened as the sun climbed higher in the distance, trees swaying in the gentle breeze, and birds chirped.

If it hadn't been for his experiences at Vlad's place, he would have found the scenery comforting, maybe even inviting. But the knowledge that this was the home of a billionaire, one that went out at night to fight crime like a furry on crack nonetheless, ruined it.

Maybe he should just head back to the motel...

...

Fuck it, when had Phantom ever backed down? That's right! Never! Danny was going to stick to his metaphorical guns and follow through with his admittedly stupid plan.

Taking his foot off the brake; Danny activated his intangibility, shared it with the car, and drove through the gate. (look, what were his powers for if not to make his life convenient? He deserved it after literally dying for them. AND the gate was probably locked. There was no way he could convince someone to let him in at this time in the morning, so...)

Danny kept an eye on his surroundings as he drove, he doubted Bruce Wayne would have ghost vultures working for him, but that doesn't mean Danny wouldn't be prepared if he did.

Eventually, a large building came into view. Its gothic architecture and obvious timely design set it apart from Vlad's modern monstrosity of a castle. Danny could just tell this was a home for a family with old money; the weathered roof and aged water fountain told stories of the people who used to live there. This was a home, not just a house.

Pulling his car over and parking, Danny quickly sent a mental prayer to the home's ancestors. He hoped they could forgive him for what he was about to do.

Grabbing his backup phone and his keys, Danny tossed the car door open and stepped out. Immediately his senses were clouded with grief and anger. It was so strong he almost lost his footing. The house was just drenched in the emotions, tendrils reaching out and wrapping around anything and everything.

Closing his eyes, Danny held his breath so he could focus on blocking the emotions out. (flashes of someone else's memories rushed past his mind; a glimpse of a young boy sitting in a library reading a book. An older man sitting next to him silently. In another flash, the two were now in a dark cave, the light of a computer the only thing illuminating them as the older man draped a blanket across the boy's back. whispered words of sincere promises echoed in his head.)

He had believed Tim, but he hadn't expected it to be this bad. Ancients, this was worse than when he had to deal with Spectra.

Batman definitely needed therapy.

...

Maybe Jazz should be Robin instead, she'd know how to handle this properly. but Jazz wasn't here right now, she was in Sweden learning all about mental health. Which meant Danny would have to do this himself.

yay.

He had two options; One, he sits down with the man and they have a sincere and very emotional conversation. Or two, he beats it into the guy's head that he needs to stop going out and trying to get himself killed. Based on everything he knows about Batman? It was going to be number two that was going to get results... Well, at least Danny had experience punching things until he got what he wanted. (even if it didn't always work.)

Shaking himself out of his mind, Danny started making his way to the front door. It was past five in the morning, Bruce should be home now. Whether he was sleeping like Danny would assume he usually did, was a different question altogether.

Glancing around the door, Danny found there was a large rope hanging to the left. Vlad had the same thing at his place, it was an old-fashioned doorbell.

shrugging, Danny pulled on the rope and waited.

and waited.

After a minute or two, Danny pulled the rope again. Suddenly the door swung open to reveal an older man dressed in a nice waistcoat and trousers.

"Can I help you?" the man asked, a British accent completing the look.

Danny blinked for a second before quickly focusing back on his task. "My name's Danny. Bruce is being a dumbass who needs to take a chill pill and take a step back from hospitalizing criminals. Can I come in?"

It was the old man's turn to stare and blink at him. After a minute, the man stepped back and opened the door, his eyebrow raised. "I would like to see how you plan to tell this to Master Bruce. His office is this way, young man."

"May I ask what exactly you're doing here?" the man asked, closing the door behind Danny.

Danny shrugged, "I'm here to beat some sense into him. He's going to get himself killed and no one wants to see what happens when he does."

The butler, because the rich fruitloop would obviously have one, hummed as he nodded his head in agreement. "I see. Maybe this is what he needs then. he won't listen to me, no matter how much I nag him."

Nothing else was said as he guided Danny through the manor, eventually stopping at a fancy dark wooden door. "Master Bruce, you appear to have a visitor." Then He opened the door and gestured for Danny to enter.

He only had a moment to ponder how he should do this before he entered the room. He should keep his powers hidden, for now at least.

He was greeted with the sight of an exhausted man in a bathrobe sitting at his desk and staring out the window. He was clutching a very worn and loved book in his hands, his brows slightly furrowed. (Danny noted that it was the same book the kid had been reading, The Hero and the Crown... or something like that, Danny hadn't really gotten a good look at the title.)

The butler stepped back, closing the door, and stood next to it to maybe await his new orders. Ones he probably wouldn't get any time soon, if the way Bruce hadn't moved or responded meant anything.

Well, if the old man wanted to see this then who was Danny to stop him?

Stepping forward, Danny leaned over the desk and slapped the back of Bruce's head. The man swiftly turned and stared at him, raising one of his hands to touch his head in shock. Danny heard the butler choke in surprise but ignored him. He could only pray to Clockwork that Bruce didn't kill him for this.

"You are being absolutely idiotic, dude." Danny declared. "Do you think Jason would have wanted you to act like this?" Bruce stood up, his chair slamming into the wall, his eyes burning in anger. "No? Then get your shit together and be the man he would be proud of."

Bruce lunged over the desk, his fist pulled back to hit Danny. It was just like Danny expected, just like Tim had told him, the man was letting his emotions control his actions. Dodging to the side, Danny continued talking, "This going out every night, fighting more and more dangerous and outlandish people all by yourself? It's going to get you killed."

Bruce gave up on trying to punch him, instead, he threw himself forward and body-slammed Danny to the floor. Danny coughed, quickly blocking his face as Bruce took a swing at him. Using the man's blind anger to his advantage, Danny kicked Bruce in the chest and sent him flying into his desk. "Jason's dead. It sucks. and it hurts. It's probably the worst pain you've ever experienced, but there's nothing you can do about it."

Danny glared at the man as he scrambled into a crouch, waiting to see what Bruce did next. "Shut up," the man growled, shoving himself up and away from his desk. He picked up his stapler; he was probably either going to use it as a blunt weapon or throw it at Danny. Widening his stance, Danny got ready to dodge or lunge.

He remembered reading about him, online when he first became Phantom. He remembered reading about Robin and Batman and how they worked together to protect Gotham. How they tirelessly worked day and night to put their rogues away every time they got out again.

He remembered seeing pictures of Batman standing next to little Robin, a proud smile on his face as the police took the criminals away. Pictures of the man helping and protecting Robin whenever the boy couldn't handle whatever mess he had gotten into. There was even a memorable one of Batman scolding an obviously sheepish Robin, a knocked-out Riddler slumped behind him.

He had wished so badly for someone to help him back them, for someone to be his Batman when times got hard. He remembered how devastated he was when it turned out the only person like him was Vlad. Vlad, who had wanted to murder his father and marry his mother. Vlad, who had overshadowed people to gain more wealth and power. Vlad, who hadn't seen how wrong it was to try and clone him.

He remembered the comments and videos from the citizens of Gotham, cheering for their heroes when they succeeded in capturing the rogues. How they still supported them when they failed. It was nothing like Amity's reaction to him.

He remembered how Gothom reacted when Robin was pronounced dead. How the city had cried and raged. He felt it all the way over in Amity, the grief and anger. The whole city had come together to mourn the boy who protected them. Even two years later, Danny could still feel the echoes.

"Jason's dead. He's dead and gone and you're letting yourself get consumed with your grief. but you made a promise Bruce."

Danny knew he had, it was the same promise Danny had made just four years ago.

Bruce's eyes widened and the anger that was surging in his eyes froze for just a moment. His hand loosened around the stapler but didn't let it go. The butler looked concerned, unsure if he should interfere or not.

"You made a promise all those years ago when you first dawned that stupid bat suit. You promised to do everything in your power to help your city. To protect it. Robin made the same promise. When he took up his suit. They both did."

Bruce's jaw tensed, his eyes narrowing. Danny lowered his body, still ready to dodge at a moment's notice.

"You made a promise to your son, Bruce. Even if he didn't know it. One that you couldn't keep."

Bruce threw the stapler, making Danny jump to the side to dodge it. His mistake was not keeping an eye on what Bruce did after throwing it. The man quickly rushed up to him, eyes blazing in anger. "You don't know anything!" he cried, his fist slamming into Danny's jaw. Danny staggered back but ducked under the next punch.

"I lost my son! I wasn't there!" Bruce shouted, kicking Danny's legs out from under him. Danny's back hit the floor, knocking the breath out of him. Bruce followed him down, breaking his nose with another punch to the face. "I promised I would protect him and I wasn't there!"

Danny growled, catching Bruce's fist in his hand and sending a punch at the side of Bruce's head. Bruce tried to lean back, Danny's fist clipping his forehead. Bruce grunted, reaching up to grab Danny's fist to keep him from punching him again.

"You couldn't protect him! I get it, it sucks!" Danny shouted back, flashes of Dani's melting form grasping at his shirt in panic pulled to the front of his mind. "It leaves a black hole in the center of your chest! It sucks all the warmth out of you, leaving only the cold bitter knowledge that you couldn't save him!" (that he couldn't save her)

Bruce pulled his fist out of Danny's hand, slamming his elbow down into Danny's chest and twisting Danny's right arm sharply in an attempt to break it. Danny kept talking though, ignoring the pain as he pulled his arm out of Bruce's grasp, "But Jason made a promise! and you're doing nothing to keep it!"

Danny grabbed onto Bruce's bathrobe and flipped them so Bruce was the one on the floor now. Quickly reaching up, Danny grabbed both of Bruce's hands and held them as still as he could. Bruce was strong, but Danny had years of fighting Skulker and the other super-strong ghosts under his belt. "He made that promise knowing that you had made the same one!"

Bruce growled, throwing his head up in an attempt to hit Danny with it. Danny leaned back, accidentally loosening his grip just enough for Bruce to break out of it. Bruce shoved him off of him, making Danny slide back and hit a chair.

Grunting, Danny stood up and lunged at Bruce. Bruce dodged to the side, dropping down to pick the stapler back up. "I can't claim to know what Jason would have wanted," Danny spat, backing up to give himself more space as Bruce stepped toward him. "but I know as someone who made the same promise, I wouldn't have wanted you to change into what you are now!"

Bruce narrowed his eyes at Danny, "Yeah, and what's that?" he growled.

"A careless, suicidal, moron," Danny growled back.

Bruce froze, stopping in place as he stared at Danny.

Danny took his chance to drive his point home; standing up straight, he raised his hands up in surrender. "He was your son. He looked up to you for protection. For guidance. And sure, maybe you weren't the best dad, and maybe you made mistakes. But you were his dad."

Danny stepped forward, watching as the butler stepped forward to reach out to the man. "and what kind of son would want his dad to kill himself?"

Bruce dropped his stapler, his eyes falling to the ground and catching onto the book he had dropped earlier. It was opened to the front page, written words in messy writing covering it.

"You need to stop, Bruce," Danny said, slowly crouching down and reaching out for the book. Bruce watched him as he stood up, the book still open to the front page in his hands. Jason's writing visible to all of them.

"you couldn't keep your promise to protect him. It sucks and it hurts. but you can keep his promise. The same promise you made all those years ago."

Bruce looked up at him, his blue eyes filling with tears, the butler's hand resting on his shoulder. Danny stepped forward again, holding the book out for Bruce to take.

"You can't protect Gotham if you're dead."

Jason's handwritten note stared up at them, the ink messy and smudged.

'to the best dad in the world and the many adventures we'll go on!'

and Bruce? Bruce crumbled to the floor with a sob, leaving Danny to stand in front of him. Blood running down his face, staining his hoodie and pink Hello Kitty pants, the book still held out with steady hands.

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