#*searches how to draw muscles*

[hyperfixated-maybe]

WELL??

Based off this:

[sysig]

Seán McCoin, Leprechaun-in-training (Patreon)

Bonus, do you recognize the bunny?

It’s Hayden!

[satoruwiki]

AIR THAT COOCHIE OUT! — NANAMI KENTO

minors, ageless and blank blogs dni.

content: nfsw; smut; afab!f!reader; porn w no plot; cunnilingus; fingering; unprotected sex (oops); facial.

w.c: 1.3k

n/a: nanami reacting to you not wearing panties <3 reader is a freak for that ngl. this was supposed to be a multiheadcanon but i got a huge block and couldn't finish the last two, i might post them if i ever get back the inspo. not proof read! any interaction with this post is very much appreciated! :b

"No panties?" Nanami says after lifting your dress up. The sight of your bare pussy greeting him already was a surprise for him, a very pleasant one.

"You don't like it?" You stare at him with doe eyes and a subtle pout on your lips, wagging your ass to coax him into touching you. You've been craving your husband all day since he left for work -- time felt agonizingly slower than usual while waiting for him to come back; you even thought of going to his work at some point but finally decided against it. Wouldn't it be nicer to be welcomed by your wife, all hot and bothered for you?

"What do you mean? Of course, I do; it's just-" Nanami sighs, placing his firm hand on the soft skin of your ass, massaging it gently. He laughs softly, kneeling down to face your pussy, "I don't know what to do with you, you naughty little thing," he says, planting a kiss on your puffy lips, earning a soft mewl from you.

His mouth is gentle to you, always taking his sweet time to lavish in your juices, eating you out so sensually words falter to describe how sexy he looks pussy drunk.

You moan softly, murmuring how good his tongue lapping at your cunt feels and to not stop. Your husband brings your ass closer to his face, the warm and heavy breaths he exhales sending a shiver down your spine. This is just what you needed, you think, a good pussy sucking by your husband as his thumb circles your clit.

Drenched in your essence, Nanami pulls away for only an instant, parting your folds open with two of his thick fingers, your tight little hole clenching around nothing, enticing him to shove them inside. He glides his fingers inside your ringed muscles, drawing a cute moan from you and begins to pump them slowly, providing enough stimulation for you to feel good but not enough to cum.

Your husband always thought you looked lovely with your face scrunched up, his name delicately falling from your lips. He leans down to suck on your clit, the tip of his tongue flicking on the sensitive bud, "feels good?" he asks, the corners of his lips curving into a smug smirk, though he already knows the answer. He knows he's doing a great fucking job at pleasuring you - your walls clamping and ambitiously sucking his fingers gives it away.

"Mhm- yeah-" you hum, shutting your eyes as his fingers curl inside you, teasing your sweet spot. The arch of your back deepens as you search to feel his index and middle finger deeper within your pussy, soft sighs escaping your mouth as his thrusts increase in pace. Nanami flips you to lay on your back and latches his mouth back on you, making sweet love to your cunt.

You trap him between your thighs; your hand cups and fondles your breast while the other one reaches to run your fingers through his golden hair, tugging it as you feel that familiar heat spread over your body. Your husband's ministrations on you soon enough make you reach ecstasy - a thread of curses falls from your lips as you gush and your walls flutter around his appendages.

Nanami chuckles and presses soft kisses on the side of your thighs, nipping at the smooth skin as he patiently waits for you to come down from your high.

"Hngh- Kento..." you mumble, the post-ecstatic smile of someone who has just been fuck divinely plastered on your face. Despite just orgasming, you know this isn't over yet, at least not on your end. This was only the entree, now for the main course.

Nanami hovers over you and brings his soaked fingers over your mouth, prying you to open it. A sound of satisfaction escaped his throat, his pupils dilating at the obscene sight of your tongue swirling and lapping on his fingers, cleaning the remnants of your orgasm from them. One of your hands trails down to palm at the prominent bulge in his slacks, drawing a low hiss from him.

"You tease," Nanami breathes, pulling his fingers out of your mouth to replace them with his mouth instead, the taste of your sweet cunt still on his tongue. He kisses you just as lusciously as he previously ate you out, cocking his head to the side to deepen the kiss and sliding his hand to support the back of your head. 

You decide to be more naughty, biting his lower lip and tracing it with your tongue as your hand continues to caress his member over his clothes. Nanami can feel your mischievous smile on his lips and curses between kisses. There is no way he can get enough of your antics. His lips descend from yours, slowly tracing a path from your mouth to your neck, depositing wet kisses on your skin that bristles at their contact. "I'm sorry, love. I know you like it from the back, but I want to look at your pretty face this time," he says, loosening his tie and tossing it somewhere in the room.

Your husband helps you to finally take your dress off, only to discover you didn't wear any bra either. 'Of course, she wouldn't,' Nanami thinks, though he can guess you already knew what he was thinking by the vamp look you give him while biting your bottom lip. He has to hold back a laugh at how impatient you're being, hastily unbuckling his belt and tugging down his slacks along with his underwear, his hard cock springing out of its confinements.

Before you can engulf his cock in your mouth, Nanami pushes you back on the mattress, bringing your legs to rest on their shoulders and lifting your hips to put a pillow under them. He aligns himself with your entrance, teasing you a bit by nudging your needy pussy with his tip and gliding it over your drenched fold to poke at your swollen clit.

You let out a soft cry, enough for him to finally sink into your heat. The burning feeling of his cock stretching your walls make your jaw slack, gasping for air. Your toes curl and draw a lengthy moan as he bottoms out, the pillow underneath your hips angling them for him to reach deeper.

Nanami babbles a bunch of curses as his hips begin to snap against yours, his hefty balls slapping on your ass at each thrust. Your muscles throb and squeeze around him, driving him into a hazy state of delirious lust. "Shit- You feel so fucking good," he huffs. He's fucking glad he got to claim your tight cunt before anyone else got to put their paws on her. "So fucking nice to me, so perfect."

His fat mushroom head gets to bully your sweet spot a couple times. Still sensitive from your previous orgasm, you cum earlier than expected, letting a loud cry of his name as your walls contract and spasm around his girth. Your back arches off the bed, the intense climax stealing your breath away.

Nanami lets a guttural groan and gives a mean squeeze to one of your tits, letting his head fall back and his eyes close as he chases his climax. "Fuck- I'm close. Where d'you want it, baby?"

As much as you wanted him to blow his load in your womb, you knew you couldn't risk getting pregnant now. "Face- In my face," you mewl out, your teeth latching at your bottom lip to stifle the loud moans that threatened to come out.

He pulls out of you and begins to stroke his dick, the veins adorning his cock throb on his fist as warm ropes of semen spurt out of his urethra, landing on your fucked out face. Nanami groans, his half-lidded eyes staring at your pretty face, wincing and glazed in his seed. He'd take a picture if he had his phone on him, "so fucking cute," he breathes, pulling back to kiss the corner of your lips. "Let's get you cleaned up, yeah?"

[anantaru]

one must imagine virgin!xiao going feral because of pussydrunk

cw. fem! reader, virgin xiao & pussy drunk xiao

a trivial dusk of reluctance— for the most part, a reluctant pause that thickened the blazing tension sauntering on top of xiao's shoulders, bending his excited body and framing it aflame when he begins to slowly move himself inside of you for the very first time.

you're warm and most definitely wet, he notices immediately, and it gives xiao all the more reason to swiftly grind his hips against your cunt in one fast snap forward, tightly drawing himself through your stretched hole as you promptly throb around him, which helps the man, it truly does, together with lightly tugging at his disheveled hair to remind him that you're still there.

xiao felt you on his rigid erection, the way your soft walls throbbed and twitched, your clenching cunt fluttering around his thick shaft keeping you apart as a relieved pose outlines his heavenly features when he draws a deep, careful breath against your lips— intended through his curling nostrils, exhaling through a slackened mouth.

"i—," he clears his throat to patch up his excitement, yet also nervousness to make and mistakes, a raw spark of desire shredding his voice in one single cut, "i like this.."

"—i like how you feel this way."

"it's soft, no— ugh, you're so soft," the yaksha was too overtaken by lust, too short of breath when he tears his way through your battered muscle with an impatient growl, burying his scarlet face in the nook of naked flesh on your neck as you wrap your arms around him, your wet lips smudging over his smooth skin, "i love how you feel too, xiao."

the moment you uttered it out loud he was done for— repeatedly sinking his cock in and out of your warmth that it's bringing him to literal tears— and, as one might realise, you're very much aware that he must still be so sensitive, yet that didn't stop him from searching for your hand to intertwine his fingers with your own.

you're feeling the growing impact of his dripping cock creating a maddening friction against your walls— you feel him for real for the very first time, and your scent covers each square of his chiseled frame as you constrict your hole before letting go, wanting to feel every inch of his length, each time he would throb and twitch, rub the pretty veins located right under his perfect shaft until you're writhing in ecstasy.

you whine, "xiao— please," coaxing him on to pick up with his dashing pace an turn it into something much more vigorous— both of his hands now, located on your hips as he presses and rolls you over his cock as he pleases, using your body and entering a state of clouded lust that wouldn't be quenched not before he would spill himself all the way inside, continuing his rough, although a little sloppy and unexperienced, thrusts as he bends your legs against your chest to fuck deeper, much better, into your warm cunt.

©2023 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify

[nsharks]

bleeding blue | apocalypse au

part ten —other parts

pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x fem!reader words: 2.3k tags: death. blood. zombies of course. AFAB reader. single dad ghost. there will be sex but it isn't here yet. slow burn!!! enemies to lovers. summary: After losing your companions, you run into a skull-masked man and his daughter. They are your last hope for survival. a/n: this chapter kicked my butt. thanks for the patience~

An ear-splitting gunshot bites the ground near your boot, close enough to feel the heat simmer through the worn leather. It takes everything in you not to freeze in terror. You grab Blue and run. 

Adrenaline kicks into high gear once again, but with her dead weight and your lack of strength, you know you can't get far. You manage to tumble behind a stack of rusted bins just as another round fires. 

Blue clings to you. "He's following us!"

Your heart sinks as your fingers reach for your bow— you left it.

"Give me your gun," you sputter quickly.

She shoves the unfamiliar weapon in your hands. A tremble consumes your body as you peek over the barrel to find your target. For a second, you see your attacker as he passes by one of the jeeps. A young man no older than yourself. 

Without hesitation, you close an eye and go for his heart, but the bullet grazes the top of his shoulder with a spray of blood. Used to a bow, you aimed too high.

He barks out a swear and then lifts his rifle in retaliation. Before he can shoot, a Grey bursts through the window of the jeep, clamping down on his neck. His throat turns to gore. The gun falls from his grip as screams of pain quickly turn to muffled groans.

Relief and horror pound through your veins. That was close. Too close. You have to get Blue out of here. But how—

There is no chance to decide. Suddenly, she screams again. You whip around to meet the slash of a long knife and the flush of cold air as your coat is torn. Someone has snuck up behind you. You fumble with the gun but the attacker knocks it out of your hand, then fists your hair hard enough to make your scalp burn. It happens so fast. You can't even get a good look at him— only the wild stare of his eyes and the strength of his stature. Whoever these people are, they are certainly better fed than that man in the woods.

You thrash against him, hurling saliva at his face. Apparently, he didn't expect that because he hisses, "Fuck."

You use the distraction to grab your own knife, the only weapon on you, and blindly drive it into the taut muscle of his thigh. He howls, letting go of your hair, and you slip away just enough to dodge the next swipe of his blade.

The fight is short-lived. You've grown stronger, but not enough to fight a man. He is skilled and bulky. Your attempts to hit him are futile. His knife catches you in the forehead, sending a curtain of blood down your face, and he grabs hold of your hair once again.

"Gonna cut your throat first," he murmurs, low and gravelly. "Then your little lamb's."

He will kill you. Then her. You can't let him. You won't. Something animalistic takes hold of you. You do the only thing left you can think of— bite. Hard. The sickening taste of human flesh and hot blood fills your mouth as you rip out a chunk of his nose.

"You bitch!" 

He clutches his oozing face. Blue shouts at you, her finger jutting toward something— the Grey. Done with its first meal, it draws toward the scent of fresh blood. Before your attacker can recover, you throw all your weight at him, which isn't much, but it is enough to make him lose his footing and veer into the Grey's path. It grabs hold and sinks another bite into his face.

Suddenly, two more gunshots ring out. One to the Grey's head, and the other through the man's eye. Both bodies flop dead to the ground. Before you can panic, a wild-eyed Ghost returns in long strides. 

"Blue!" he bellows. 

"Dad!" she yells back.

He heads straight for her, quickly dipping down to check her bandaged leg and search for any other wounds. Fear has forced her eyes to stay open, her body stiff and alert. There is a wet stain at the crotch of her jeans. 

"They tried to kill us," she cries.

“I'm here, baby. I won't leave you again.”

You wipe the blood off your face and glance around, panting so hard your lungs hurt. The air reeks of carnage and gunpowder, but the firing has ceased. 

"They attacked us," you speak in a raw shout. “Two of them. Did you— Are the rest gone?"

He nods. "Could be more nearby. Let's get out of here before we find out."

He slings the rifle over his shoulder and scoops up Blue without an ounce of the effort it took for you to do so. 

He moves fast. Retrieving your bow, you push hard to keep up with him. 

Twilight tints the sky purple. You make it past the fence and zig-zag through the medical tents when movement catches your eye again.

"Ghost, to the right!" you scream.

You knock an arrow onto the string, aiming for the distant figure. But the movement multiplies, more shadows lurking towards you with uneven gaits. Not people. Greys. The realization forms a pit in your stomach.

"They can fucking smell us," you choke out. 

"Hit the faster ones!"

Arrow after arrow, you aim for the ones that move with the stamina of a more recently infected. To your right. To your left. Ghost carries Blue with one arm and shoots with his handgun. More and more crawl out like cockroaches, no doubt catching a whiff of the blood that stains all three of you. 

Two built like linebackers run wildly up to Ghost from either direction. He shoots one, while the other grabs him by the shoulder. You launch an arrow at its skull, your aim more precise now that you're not shooting bullets, and it lets go of him with a squeal. 

When the trees grow thicker, it becomes harder to see them. Despair pushes a cry up your throat when you slap a hand back to your quiver and feel two arrows left. 

A slippery mix of mud and leaves suddenly takes you down to the ground, your knees landing on a hard tree root. You swear under your breath, fumbling to get back up, when a Grey you hadn't noticed behind you lunges on top, slamming you back down. Pain shoots through your ribs as you frantically roll around, thrusting a forearm against its throat to avoid its opened mouth and kicking your knees into its chest. Then, a fiery bullet lodges into its forehead, the Grey going limp on top of you with a splatter of brains and coagulated fluid. 

"Get up, Twix!" Ghost barks. 

You shove the body off and scramble to your feet, legs feeling like jelly, but you force them to keep running. 

You whip a brief look behind you. 

"There's too many— I'm almost out of arrows!" 

"The river," Ghost throws over his shoulder. "Those fucks can't swim."

You realize his idea when the roar of water greets your ears. Ghost doesn't hesitate to sprint onto the rusty rebar, slipping his gun away to hold Blue with both arms. 

You follow behind, forcing your eyes on the bank ahead as you slow down to keep balance. All you have to do is get across and the river will take care of the rest. Heartbeats pound in your skull, each step requiring an unfathomable amount of focus that you struggle to muster. You're about halfway there when you hear the splash of Greys falling in, and a brief glance below causes your footing to falter. 

This time you fail to grab the beam.

Cold water envelops you like a million needles.

A mouthful of water burns down your throat, and for a moment, you can't move. Can't breathe. Everything spins around you. It's not until your feet collide with something hard - the bottom of the riverbed - that your brain registers what's happening and you kick out to propel yourself up. 

You break the surface for a gulp of air before the current pulls your head back under. Your arms flail around in search of something to grab. Just when you latch onto what feels like a log, a hand seizes your ankle with a hungered screech. You slam your foot back, over and over, more water filling your mouth as you struggle to kick the Grey and hold on at the same time.

Finally, the rotten skull caves in and the current sucks it away. With your leg freed, you haul yourself up the log toward the edge of the river. You begin climbing up the cliffside, using the twisted roots as footholds, your hands digging into caked soil. You're almost to the top, but you feel numb and weak. So weak. You can't find anything else to grab. The wet sole of your boot begins to slip.

"Grab on!"

A gloved hand stretches down. Ghost is crouched above, Blue now on his back so can he lean over. You grip his hand and he pulls you up, until you collapse on the ground, wet and shivering. 

You cough up water and bile. 

"Bloody fucking hell.” 

It's been a while since you've thought about dying. You've made it this far, instinct always taking the reins and pushing you onward. But now, as the reality of the cold, wet clothes clinging to you sets in, you consider asking Ghost to just shoot you. It would be quicker than freezing to death, and a much better fate than drowning or turning Grey. At least you know Blue will be safe now.

Before you can form the words, you hear the shuffling of fabric. A jacket, a beanie. Set on the ground beside you.

"Take off your clothes. Put these on."

The rest turns into a dream. You don't remember putting the clothes on, or standing up and moving your heavy limbs. You don't remember getting to the hunter's cabin, but the next thing you know, you are curled up on the floorboards beside a small fire, inhaling the musky smell of Ghost's oversized jacket, with the blanket you brought tucked around your bare legs. You don't feel cold anymore. Your head pounds. You can hear the steady rhythm of your heart, slow but present. Behind you somewhere, Ghost tends to Blue. You know this because you hear him whisper to her as her sobs are muffled by biting onto a shirt. Amelia, Amelia, he says to her. A name you've never heard before. He must be cleaning the wound, the pain of it causing her to thrash and kick. Then, the sounds fade, and you know she is asleep. 

When your eyes finally tear away from the flames, you spot Ghost hunched over, lifting up his shirt. Dark blood and ink stain pale skin. 

"You were shot?" 

His eyes snap up. He regards you for a moment, and it is now you notice that most of the white of his mask has been stained with red from his kills. 

"Knife," he says.

You don't know why you offer, or why he silently accepts. Somehow you end up knelt beside him, your cracked fingertips cleaning the puncture wound in his torso without a single word exchanged. It's not deep enough to need stitches. You clear the blood and dab on antiseptic. The only sign he feels any pain is the flex of corded muscles beneath your touch and the occasional sharp inhale through the mask. His skin is oddly warm, a temperature that does some to ease the tension in your muscles.

When you're done, you roll the shirt back down. He doesn't say thank you, not that you expected him to. 

You break the silence with a voice that barely hovers above a whisper. "You could've let me freeze."

His brows lower. "You could've let them kill her."

"I would never do that." When he doesn't respond, you glance at her sleeping form. "She's okay?"

"Just a graze," he confirms.

"She lost quite a bit of blood. She might need a few days to rest."

Your gaze shifts back to his. You quietly add, "Did you recognize them? Were they a part of the military?" 

"Maybe. Their gear was. Didn't know them, though."

"Why did they try to kill us?"

He gives you a look. Of course. He tried to kill you for the same reason once.

"They have a camp nearby," you murmur the answer, more to yourself than to him. "Something to protect."

He gives a slow nod, then moves to grab his rifle and a hoodie to slip on in place of the thick SAS jacket he lent you. As he moves to the door, you realize what he plans to do. Keep watch.

You slip the beanie off and run your fingers over the cut on your brow when he says something just before leaving.

"For someone who once asked me to kill them, you fight hard to survive, Twix."

You don't know what to say. Just hours ago, you almost asked him to kill you again.

There's a beat of silence and then, "Why?"

"Why what?"

"Do you fight so hard."

A breath sticks in your throat, and you stare at the floor. You're not sure why he is asking this, or why the answer is so hard to give.

"I... I don't know."

With that, he leaves. You watch the fire turn to dark embers. The faded adrenaline has left you with a fatigue you have grown familiar with. If you weren't so tired, maybe you would still be scared, your mind filled with fresh memories of gore and death and screaming. But you fall asleep quickly, scooting beside Blue and sinking into the warmth of his jacket. 

[rene-darling]

WHEN- you leave them without release

...as it says, something comes up and you leave them rock hard...

Tighnari...xiao...gorou...ayato

Tighnari

You've stuffed an aphrodisiac mushroom in his mouth with has left him a drooling mess you fucked deep into him as he clawed your back while arching his own

Suddenly your akasha terminal let out a noise and you heard a message from your boss, it was something along the lines of not coming now or you'll be in big trouble

You roughened your pace as tighnari bit onto your shoulder drawing out blood, he soon came for the first time but as soon as you finished you rushed to go grab your things you mumbled about being back soon and quickly left

In his state tighnari couldn't quite understand your words, but soon, as his mind cleared a little he realized that you had just up and left! Leaving him still hot and bothered by the aphrodisiac!! He's about to run after you but the effects of the aphrodisiac are too strong and he falls flat on his ass

Be prepared for the lecture of your life because when you come back he's gonna give you an ear full! "ah- hey babe-" the glare he gives you shuts you right up now you're not afraid of many things- except when you're faced with a cock hungry tighnari

After he's done giving you an earful he makes you fuck him while he just lays on his back not moving a muscle!! But hey you owe him for leaving him like that!

Overstimulate him till he's crying "aw, baby why are you crying didn't you want this?"

Ayato

You don't get much time with ayato since he's always busy with work and stuff so when you finally do see each other you're both exhausted by the day and just fall asleep

But he was determined to push away the exhaustion to get some private time with you he was enjoying himself blindfolded and tied to the bed it had been a while since both of you had done something like this, it was good stress relief

The ropes weren't too tight yet if he really wanted to he could break them but he didn't he was your good boy after all

Suddenly a low knock was on the door you mumbled something like "one sec" and went ayato knew you would be back soon- and that you wouldn't let anyone into the room either, his delicate body is for your eyes to see and no one else's

But um... you're still not here.. it's been a couple of minutes but you're still not back, he's started to grow worried especially since he's rock hard with no clothing on and he's tied to the headboard of the bed

With minimal struggle, he's able to get himself out of his tied-up position, then he removes his blindfold ayato looks down and- he's still hard... Where the fuck are you

He puts on a silk robe to hide the obvious hard on and leaves his room in search of you roaming the halls he comes across thoma and decides to ask him about your whereabouts

"thoma, have you seen y/n by chance?" "ah my lord, yes, the people from fontain that we're supposed to arrive next week arrived earlier since they wanted to get lady ayaka's dress ready as soon as possible, my lady rushed to go and greet them since it would be disrespectful not to."

Archons, he can't believe this. This is the reason you left him in such a sorry state? God. You're such a workaholic

Be prepared to be ignored the rest of the day, when you come back he's laying down on the bed with his back to you you try shaking him and asking if he wants to continue but...no response 'maybe he's asleep...' leaving him alone you got in the bed and went to sleep

The next morning no matter how many times you tried talking to him he kept looking the other way, the next day he started making snide remarks whenever you tried spending time with him

' alright that's it tonight I'll make it up to him!" you made sure to shower and wear ayato's favorite fragrance he was giving you the cold shoulder- again he was pretending to have fallen asleep on his work table

You weren't going to be defeated this easily though so you grabbed him by the waist and lifted him up princess style, his eyes shot wide open "w-wha-... What are you doing y/n put me down!! What if someone sees" " I don't give a fuck if someone sees tonight is all about me and you." you exclaimed as you gently laid him on the bed "i-..um- a-alright...just, be gentle okay.." "alright"

You did not stay true to your word for long

Gorou

Poor poor gorou's heat is here but luckily you're here too!! And as his lover, it's your duty to fuck him through these rough times, is what he thinks

So as soon as you get home he's immediately clinging to you, his ears twitching and tail wagging as he desperately drags you too the bed

You were very amused with his desperation and how could you say no to his puppy face!

Things were getting steamy- fast as you were leaving apparent hickies on his exposed stomach while he moaned in euphoria

Soon a knock came from the door and before you could speak up a soldier spoke from the other side informing you that kokomi was urgently calling for you

Since this was something to do with the war you couldn't just not go so you told him you'll be there and got off gorou, who immediately noticed the weight of you leaving, but he was expecting you to go get some toys or lube or whatever so he didn't question you

You just assumed that gorou heard the soldier he didn't. And went rushing out of the tent to kokomi

A minute passed. Two. Then three, four, five, and soon it had been ten minutes since you left and gorou was left wondering, ' Where the heck are you??' he's left panting cuz his heat sure as hell isn't gone

He doesn't even try to make himself presentable and just goes out and to the nearest guard he sees "general gorou!...um are you okay you look a li-" "Where. Is. Y/n" "O-oh um- uh hah um- last I heard the divine priestess called for her-" Before he could even finish gorou stormed off leaving the poor guard in shambles

"So back to the topic at hand y/n-" Before Kokomo could even process her sentence the doors slammed open with a very annoyed-looking gorou "wha- gorou, babe why are-" " I get if you weren't in the mood but you could have at least got me my heat pills!!!" gorou was pissed.

"um- ill leave you guys to settle this lovers quarrel" Kokomo quickly rushed everyone and herself out since she did not want to be a third wheel

Safe to say it was good that she left since otherwise she would have witnessed gorou breaking his back while he stabbed his nails into your back making you bleed

You've advised gorou to cut his nails cuz for damn you were fricking bleeding with the scratches he left you! ...At least if someone saw that they knew you fucked good?

Xiao

It takes a lot of build up to get Xiao in the mood but it's always worth it, seeing his back arch while he claws at your back in ecstasy truly a sight to behold

You were on the couch xiao in your lap while you made out your hands were on his hips while his we're around your neck suddenly a knock came on the door and you both parted your lips and he panted in your lap "go sit on the bed xiao ill be back" you said quickly giving him one last kiss he shyly nodded while getting of your lap

You opened the door and it was the inn over verr "Did we make too much noise?" you asked getting straight to the point- or so you thought "wha- no why would there be noise- anyways a letter has come from the jade chamber saying there's been an emergency and you are needed"

"..fuck- um alright thanks verr" She left soon after wondering what 'noise' you were talking about

You quickly fixed yourself in the nearest mirror and yelled out to Xiao "Xiao! Somethings come up let's continue this after I come back" you yelled and then you rushed out the door assuming Xiao heard you...he didn't

Xiao waited and waited wondering what was taking you so long?? He stayed in the room for close to half an hour because he wanted to be your good boy but he just couldn't wait any longer so he looked his head out the door and saw...no one

After Xiao explores the entire house and doesn't find you he gets really embarrassed and teleports away he thinks he's done something wrong and you're mad at him!

When you finally do come back you see the whole house is empty with no Xiao insight

You call his name a few times to no answer it's when your voice starts to become panicked and desperate does he finally show up

"Xiao! Thank God I was worried- wait..have you been crying my love...?" you said noticing the red under his eyes as well as the wetness

"n-no.." he says in a broken tone which makes your heart shatter

You question him, to find out why and he finally spills telling you how it's because you left him! And he thinks he did something wrong! "aw..my darling you didn't do anything wrong something came up, that's why I left.." you kissed away any tears that threatened to spill from his pretty lashes "y-you mean..that...?" he asks you in such a gentle tone

"ya...come ill just show you how much a I mean that.." you grabbed his waist and pulled him into the bedroom

Next morning it's xiaos turn to be mad at you! You guys got a noise complaint from verr

"it's not like I was the one making noise.." he throws a pillow at you while you laugh at him "aw xiao you've gone all red..wanna go another rou-" y/n was never heard from again :)

[kneelingshadowsalome]

König is, obviously, a big little freak. Do you think he'd feel flattered/lovestruck if a cute girl stalked and was obsessed with him or would he be weirded out? I think the first: for once he gets pussy and love without having to do anything. Also it'd be kinda funny if he didn't even notice his little admirer at first cause she doesn't register as a threat and he's too busy being broody and depressed cause he's so alone (while reader is in her apartment fantasizing about their future kids and drawing little hearts on a pic of him)

Ohhh yes. König being oblivious af, thinks this is simply a joke.

It started out in school: cute little postcards that had bunnies or kittens or flowers or hearts on them, delivered to him by his mom who was smirking about how her boy had a secret admirer. There was nothing fancy scribbled on the other side, just soft, silly messages like: "I like you!" or "Your cute" or "Luv u ♡", and König saved them all.

…Until he showed the postcards to the wrong “friends”, who only made fun of them. One of the boys told him they sent those cards to him as a joke because no girl could ever want him, and König believed them. Allowed himself one, maybe two tears in solitude before he threw those cards away.

What was odd, though, was that the cards still kept coming. He always threw them in the trash, and at some point while growing up, they stopped arriving. No cats or hearts or cute mice illustrations for him anymore, just loads of video games and internet and a growing interest in war history and gym.

He didn’t think much of it after the age of 17, just went to the army to make a man out of himself. Got laid for the first time, got bullied some more, grew some muscle and grew some balls. Got kicked out of sniper training, his one and only dream, and went back home to brood for a few weeks.

That’s when he received the letter.

A 5 page love letter, written in beautiful, whimsical handwriting, smelling of something so angelic that it drove even the eternal stench of gunpowder and rust and military storage away.

König gets plunged into a whole world of soft feminine attention without even asking to, the letter now placed on his old desk that’s too small for him to sit at anymore. The fragrant sheets of paper are filled with confessions of adoration and love and… it would be a little bit creepy, were he a man who fancied so-called normal women.

He goes to the attic, searching his old cardboard boxes for the postcards to compare the handwriting, but can’t find none, remembering that yeah… he threw all of them away, didn’t he? The handwriting wouldn’t match anyway, that much he can remember, but then again it was a kid who wrote to him back then. Now, his admirer is a grown woman who apparently got back on her obsession train once he visited his childhood home after years of living abroad.

The hair on his shins, arms and at the back of his neck shoots up as he realizes some woman has a crush on him, some cute girl has been watching him since day one. Those postcards weren’t a joke, so she must have gone to the same school as him… She might be the daughter of some of their neighbors, living right next to him even now.

König goes door to door in search of her, but only wrinkly elders arrive to tell him that no, they never had a daughter or granddaughter or if they had, they have long since moved out to some big city.

He goes through the letter once again but finds no clues to who she is or where she lives. It’s just pages and pages of flattery about how he’s still the man of her dreams and so much more. How he’s even cuter now that he looks like someone pissed in his cereal. She wonders if he’s built the same everywhere, and if he is, then she should say her evening prayers… Too many impure thoughts going through her head already, why does he have to be so handsome?

König is in hell, as always, desperately trying to look for his admirer when he goes out to take the trash. Visions of some girl touching herself at the thoughts of him pester him from sunrise to sunset, and he has to take a cold shower every morning simply because one wank doesn’t seem to be enough to tame the big fellow downstairs.

He hugs his pillow and dreams of his girl, someone sweet to wrap his arms around and to protect. He fantasizes of someone cute waiting for him, someone he could surprise every time he gets home, someone adorable to eat out until they sob and squirm. Until he gets the stench of death out of his mouth…

A message arrives on his phone from an unknown number, and at first he thinks it’s spam.

But when he opens the message, he’s met with two perfect bare breasts. So fucking cute, especially when they’re accompanied by a set of fingertips grazing her soft skin; König even notices she has red nail polish on. So adorably, incredibly cute…

There comes a text that says: “I thought of sending you another postcard, big boy… But perhaps you don't care for kittens anymore. Hopefully this will do? ❤️”

There’s no face reveal, just tits and a cute female hand laid out there before him. Just a text that confirms that she’s the one. Typing a quick reply, he sends it to the unknown number: “This will more than just do 😳❤️❤️❤️”

Without thinking, like, at all, he pulls out his already hard cock and takes a hurried picture of it with a trembling hand. He usually knows better than to send a dick pic to a girl, especially after exchanging less than two sentences with them. But hey, she started this. The least he can do is give her something to pray about (and for)..

So he sends that horrid picture of his ugly cock to his cute mystery girl before she can even type a reply to the first message, and asks: “Are we praying tonight, my lady?”

[luveline]

How about ploy marauders going to a party and Sirius promised to do readers make up, but is late so the other two are making an attempt. Sure they might know how to do Sirius's messy style, but do they know big dramatic styles? Can James do a perfect wing?

<3 fem, 1k

“Can you stay still?” Remus asks, turning your face a half inch where it’s held in his hand. 

“Can James stop kissing me?” you ask. 

James pulls his face from the curve of your neck, the warmth of his lips lingering on your skin. “Sorry, are you busy?” 

“You’re supposed to be helping.”

“Don’t act like you weren’t enjoying yourself.” 

You smile. Remus rubs the softest curve under your eye with his thumb, the tip of his tongue sticking out between his lips. He doesn’t know he’s doing it, concentrating instead on your face and the wetness of your makeup where it’s beginning to sink in. “I don’t know what I’m doing,” he sighs. 

“You know better than I do,” James says. 

You don’t know a thing about it, that’s why you’d arranged for Sirius to do your makeup tonight before Marl’s birthday bash, but where is your awful boyfriend? Late, decidedly unavailable for makeup-ing. 

“You’ve done his mascara a thousand times,” James argues with Remus. 

“Yes, but Sirius has never asked me to do his blush.” Remus’ hand moves to the side of your face. “You are lovely, though. I think using only a little of everything is working in our favour.” 

“Sirius only lets him do mascara because he already has nice eyelashes,” you worry. It won’t matter if Remus messes up or doesn’t get close enough to the root. 

“Yes, and because he likes it when Remus holds his face like that,” James points out, eyeing Remus’ hand where it stays at your cheek. Remus has long fingers, ever-so slightly thick with two golden rings that kiss your chin as he lets his hand fall, and he’s always gentle. 

“James, I’m tapping out.” 

James pretends to roll up sleeves he isn’t wearing, your bulkiest boyfriend in a short-sleeved t-shirt that showcases the lean muscle of his forearms, the not so lean ridges of his biceps. They tense as he sits up, his knee jabbing yours, the bed creaking dangerously beneath your angled weight. “What’s there left to do? She’s gorgeous.” 

“What did you want?” Remus asks you. 

“Uh, I wanted, you know…” You sound ridiculously shy. You wish you could just do all of this faff by yourself rather than force their attention, but neither boy seems annoyed. “He does that smudgey eyeliner, it makes my eyes look bigger. And lipgloss, but I can do that myself.” 

“Are you kidding? That’s the best part,” James says. He gives you a smile confident enough to reassure you and handsome enough to make you shy from his touch all over again. “Pass me the black pencil, Remus. I’ve got this.” 

James does not got this, his expression melding from happy, adoring, to perturbed, and then annoyed. “Aw, I’ve fucked it.” 

Remus shakes his head vehemently. “You haven’t! We just need a wet wipe.” 

They search the room for Sirius’ wet wipes and come up empty-handed. A towel is wetted and taken carefully to your eyes instead, cold and rough on your eyelids. 

“Be gentler,” Remus whispers. 

James is practically atop you know, your chin tilted up to his hand. “Sorry,” he whispers in turn, then to you solely, “‘m I hurting you?” 

“No.” You’re whispering too. It feels appropriate; they’re both very close to you, and this movement might fix or ruin your makeup with the party’s start time drawing ever closer. 

“I think I’ve fixed it,” James says, taking the pencil up again, the nib soft as it rolls over the corner of your eye. “Sirius can perfect it in the car, right?” 

“I thought you were good at everything?” you ask. 

James turns your face up impossibly higher, craning his head down for a peck. “Yes,” he whispers severely, “I’m good at everything. But Sirius is usually better. Quick, let’s find your lipgloss before we’re late.” 

Remus tries to tell James that it isn’t true, a serious conversation at a bad time, and James won’t listen to a word of it. They quibble over who’s doing your lipgloss, bathe you in compliments when they’re done —aw, dove, you look so cute, and cute? she looks perfect— then suddenly an abrupt beep is sounding outside. The three of you scramble into your jackets and down the stairs, meeting Sirius where he leans against the car. He throws the keys to Remus, ushering you into the backseat with him for some last minute clean up. 

“Hey, they’ve done a good job,” he praises, another hand on your face to turn it up kindly to the light. “Did you bring your lipgloss?”  

You nod quickly and dig for it in your jacket. 

“What!” James says from the front, turning in the passenger seat to complain. “That’s the one thing we did perfectly.” 

The car starts. Remus laughs to himself behind the steering wheel. 

“Did I say otherwise?” Sirius asks, letting his fingers curve toward the back of your neck. Pale in the light, eyes lit with something funny you’ve yet to hear, he dips in close to you and talks quietly, “I’m sorry, I promised I’d do your makeup for the party. But you’ve all done well without me, you look perfect, especially your lips.” 

“Then what did you want it for?” you ask, confused, your seat belt pulling as Sirius encourages you forward. 

“To reapply.” He taps your neck with a fingertip. “Spare a kiss? I promise I’ll fix any mess.” 

Commotion from the front seat.

“James–” Remus warns. 

“What? I want to watch.” 

“Freak,” Sirius says lovingly. 

“How am I a freak? She’s my girlfriend, you’re my boyfriend, and you’re doing that voice like you’re gonna lay her down in the back seat.” 

“James.” 

—

requests r open!! pls think about reblogging if you enjoyed, I hope u did either way!!!

[blackopals-world]

I've Found Home

Fem!Yuu and Twisted Cast

(Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4) (Part 5) (Part 6) (Part 7) (Part 8)

Implied relationship

She moved on. She had to and had every reason to. She had someone who relied on her.

Warnings:hurt-comfort, Angst to heal your soul. Healing those and abandonment issues. Happy ending I promise. Don't read if you are not ready to cry. Did not proof read, wrote this late a night, sick and half asleep. Sorry.

Move on.

Forget.

There was no going back.

You chose this.

You wanted this.

After three years of living in another world Yuu couldn't adjust easily to her old life.

A life that no longer exists. So she began building a new one.

She found a good price on a place near the mountains. Private but not isolated. She had the money after her book deal.

People would never believe her story so she wrote fantasy novels. She felt closer to her friends this way but more lonely all the same. She couldn't share the truth with anyone and could never talk about them as though they were real.

Still, she could write new stories with new characters to forget.

Life had been quiet. Eat, sleep, write, watch TV, read and do it all again. Sometimes getting food deliveries, read fan mail and get a call to two. It was decent life. Something Idia would love.

He's probably taken over STYX by now. I bet he and Ortho are doing great together.

Nevermind, she could probably cook something. Eating instant meals was probably ruining her health. Vil would kill her if he knew.

...

Food can wait. She wasn't that hungry anyways.

The garden! Yes! She had to tend the garden! She had ordered a spring bundle to plant.

The tag said it had some tulips, mums, begonias, and specialty white roses.

Nevermind... forget it. She should take a nap. A lazy day never hurt anyone. Even beasts can afford to sleep.

...

...

...

Yuu decided to leave. She couldn't take this anymore. If she got one more reminder she'd collapse. Their faces were ingrained in her mind and guilt burned under her skin.

Life was funny you know. You don't know what come next.

Yuu certainly didn't.

She hiked up the mountain trying to forget every time Jade would drag her to go foraging with him. Every late-night walk she had with Malleus. Every magic carpet ride with Kalim.

It wasn't fair! Why did she have to go through this? She wanted to see them again. What did she do to deserve this?

She was good! She was kind! She just wanted to go home! Is that so wrong? She worked hard! She made a name for herself! She should have the life she wanted and be able to enjoy that life.

But she missed them...

Unknowingly Yuu had dropped to her knees and crying. Only the forest could hear her and perhaps it took pity on her.

(Warning: If you are sensitive to child abuse or dead animals please don't read on.)

When her tears were gone and her cries faded there was a response.

A different cry. High pitched and gurgling. The kind that every woman knew in an odd instinctual way. The kind that sets off every alarm in your head and makes every hair stand on end. A baby.

She ran towards it praying to God that this wasn't a mountain lion. It wasn't though.

She found a small shack off the path. It was surrounded by trash. Must have been occupied by squatters. Said squatters seemed to have vacated at least a few days ago.

Yuu muscled open the makeshift door. The crying had turned into unfamiliar cracking breathless howls. Their voice must have given out a while ago after who knows how long. Hours, days...any longer would mean death.

Yuu searched and found a bunker of sorts under the floorboards.

She found a soggy bare mattress, a few scattered crayons, a ball and-oh God, that smell. It was a rotting cat. Poor thing must have been here for weeks. There was an empty cat food bowl nearby. Little drawings littered the floor. Ones of a smiling child with a smiling cat.

The whimpering cries continued and drew Yuu forward. She found them curled up in a corner. A rope was tied around their leg. It was a child. They were wrapped in soiled clothes, had matted hair, and emaciated.

Yuu felt her heart break again. This poor baby. Who could do this.

He looked at her with fear and hope. He wanted-no needed to be saved. He was probably no older than 3. He had no understanding of what was happening to him. His tears had marked his face as the only place was covered in a layer of dirt.

"Hey, is okay I'm here to help. I'm going to take you away now. Is that okay? We'll get you some food." Yuu tried to keep her voice even to not scare him.

The boy crawled over to the place of the dead cat. And began shaking it.

"Nina!Nina!" He wailed trying to wake her up.

He didn't know she was dead. He didn't even understand what death was.

"I'm sorry Nina can't come with us." Yuu said pulling him gently by the back of his ragged shirt.

But children don't understand these things.

"Nina! No! Nina!" He yelled horsey.

"Shh, it's okay. Don't worry I'll come back for her later. I promise." Yuu hushed.

She could bury her in the garden. He clearly loved her a lot and the poor kitty deserves that much.

After untying the rope Yuu lifted the boy into her arms and carried him home. He made almost no noise as he buried himself in her arms.

Yuu promised herself that she'd never let something like this happen to him again. He would never be abandoned again, he'd never go hungry again, and he'd be loved. She'd love him, she swore it.

"My son." She whispered to no one at all but I affirmed everything she felt.

He needed a name. The case worker didn't have one for him on file. She got to choose one.

For a writer she struggled to find one.

Mal, Elliot, Leo, Cecil, Bishop, Ali, Jacob, Carter, Azure, Jess

Only one name stuck

Grimm

"Grimm! It time for bed. Grab a book if you want me to read it to you." Yuu said walking up the stairs.

Grimm scanned his bookshelf for one of his favorites. The titles were: "The Rose Queen", "The King of Beasts", "The Wishing Star", "The sea witch", "The Sand Serpent", "The fairy Gala", "The Little Robot", "Magic Cat", "The beautiful Queen", and "The Underworld and back again"

Grimm had a favorite right now. The newest among the children's book collection Yuu had written. She pulled it off the shelf and ran back to bed.

Yuu could barely keep up these days. Grimm was fast but Yuu had practice.

She pulled the covers over him and read the title as Grimm snuggled up with his favorite stuffed animal. It was another merchandise stuffed animal. It was a big gray cat with a stripped bow and purple crystal around its neck.

Grimm named it Nina and took it everywhere. Along as it comforted him Yuu said nothing.

"The Lonely Dragon: Once upon a time there was a powerful dragon prince who lived in a land far far away." Yuu began.

"But the dragon isn't lonely forever. He meets the lost princess and they become best friends! Oh and the Silver knight comes in stop the dragon here!" Grimm interrupted leaning over his mother.

" Well if you want to tell the story." Yuu sighed.

When Yuu finished Grimm asked her something.

"So the dragon isn't lonely anymore?" He looked at her with wide eyes.

"No, he has many friends and rules over a nice kingdom," Yuu said in a hushed voice as shifted his pillow to make him lie down.

"What about the lost princess?"

"The lost princess found her way home. She said goodbye to her friends and is where she belongs now."

"But is she lonely? Without all her friends?"

"She used to be but now she has a home. She misses her friends but she's happy."

"I wish I could meet her. I'd be her friend and she'd never be lonely again."

"I know, I'd bet she'd be so happy. Goodnight, baby."Yuu turned off the light as she kissed Grimm's cheek

"Night Mama." Grimm said kissing his mother back.

When Yuu left the room she kept the door open just a bit so Grimm wouldn't be afraid of the dark.

She took a deep breath. Maybe she shouldn't have written the Lost Princess series but it was so well loved these days what could she do?

Still, she could relive those days for just a brief moment and smile.

She made her way to the study to go back to writing her new book when a knock came from downstairs.

Yuu cautiously made her way to the door and pressed an ear to it to listen to who it might be. Forgetting she had a peephole. A familiar voice called her name from the other side.

[supernaturalgirl20]

Hey, could you do a fic about Joel knocking up the reader, while living in Jackson? He's such a baby daddy and Everytime I read fics that says he pulled out during sex, I always think "hm, someday he's gonna get someone pregnant" since it's a very ineffective birth control hahaha

Thanks for the request 🥰 I’ve made this one more angsty from the last pregnancy request but it has a happy ending 😉💕

And Then it Happened

Pairings: Joel Miller x f!reader

Warnings: Smut 18+, explicit, unprotected sex, PinV sex, Joel is an asshole, mentions of cheating, unplanned pregnancy, little bit of angst, hurt/comfort, mentions of abortion, cursing, fluff, anxiety.

A/N: did a quick edit on this so sorry about any mistakes 🥰

Comments and reblogs really appreciated 🥰

The weight of Joel’s arm around your waist felt heavier than normal and the way his hand was splayed across your stomach had anxiety coiling tight within your chest. 

You should have told him last night, but you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. He had seemed so happy and relaxed for the first time since settling into Jackson that you didn’t want to take from it. 

A groan slips past his lips as he moves his hand from your waist to lay back against the mattress. 

“Mornin’.” His voice is husky with sleep as he pinches the bridge of his nose, his body stretching out his tired muscles. 

“Mornin’,'' you whisper back, a slight quiver in your voice as you turn to face him. He looks at you from beneath his hand with a furrowed brow, his eyes tracing the contours of your face as if he’s searching for something. 

“Everythin’ alright?” His hand falls away from his face as he reaches out and tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. 

You hum in response, but you can tell from the expression on his face that he isn’t buying it. “I’ma try that again and this time I want the truth,” he turns on his side to face you, his thumb tracing along the seam of your bottom lip as you pull it between your teeth. 

“You bite your lip when you're lyin’ darlin.” His eyes are full of warmth as they gaze at you, and you gulp nervously as the butterflies begin to flutter in your stomach. 

Your breathing becomes ragged and your heart beats harder against your chest as you work up the courage to tell him. 

“I’m pregnant,” you mumble quietly waiting with bated breath for him to say something. “Darlin, ya gotta speak up. I didn’t catch what you said.” 

You can feel his thumb rubbing gently against your cheek and you have to close your eyes to stop the tears from falling. “I'm pregnant!”

The motion of his thumb stops. His hand pulls away from you as he sits up abruptly in bed, the movement drawing your attention to him. 

“What?!” He stutters. His hand runs anxiously through his hair as he stares down at the duvet. You sit up and slowly reach out to him, but he pulls away, his eyes darting quickly to your face. 

“I'm pregnant,” you whisper, almost on the verge of tears. His eyes drift to your lips before meeting your gaze again. “No!” He says it so harshly you flinch. “How the hell did this happen? I ain’t ever cum inside you.” 

“I mean, pulling out isn’t a fool proof method, Joel. It just…” He’s shaking his head and when he looks at you again the warmth in his chocolate-brown eyes is gone. 

“I ain’t ever got anyone else pregnant pulling out. You must be seeing someone else. It ain’t mine.” His words cut you deeper than any knife ever could. You pull the sheets over your naked body as you begin to sob. 

He’s up and out of the bed in a flash as he quickly grabs his clothes off the floor. You want so desperately to reach out and touch him. For him to drop everything and wrap you up in his arms but you know that isn’t going to happen. 

“I - I haven’t slept with anyone else. It’s only been you. I thought we were…” He scoffs as he turns towards you. “You thought we were...what? Together. It was just sex. I told you from the start I couldn’t give you more than that. That I couldn’t give you anything other than someone to share a bed with and you were ok with that.” 

“I was. Until I wasn’t and now, I’m pregnant and whether you like it or not, this baby is yours.” You stand, pulling the sheet around your naked body as you move around the bed towards him. “I love you, Joel. I have for a long time I just didn’t want to scare you away. So, I kept it to myself. I know you have issues from your past and that you lost Sarah…”

“Don’t!” He shouts. “Don’t you dare bring her up.” His finger is pointed at you angrily and his breathing is ragged as he tries to keep himself calm. 

“I’m sorry. I just meant that, I get it. You’re scared and that’s ok because so am I. But we can figure it out together.” You try to move closer to him, but he pulls back. 

“I can’t.” He stutters, his eyes now fixed on your stomach. “I can’t do this again. I won’t. I’m sorry.” He grabs his shirt and throws it over his t-shirt before leaving your room, the door slamming loudly behind him as you stand there staring after him. 

When you hear the front door slam shut you break down crying. The sound of your sobs fills the now-quiet house. You knew he wouldn’t be happy, but you didn’t think he’d abandon you. 

Sitting back against the side of the bed you move your hand to rest over your stomach. “Guess it’s just me and you.” 

***

The weeks that followed were tough. Joel avoided you as much as possible and when he couldn’t, he barely spared you a glance. 

You had asked Tommy to stop putting you on patrol with him, it was too much being in such proximity to him when he wouldn’t even acknowledge you. People had started to talk so it was easier if you went your separate ways. 

“Ya sure?” Tommy asked, his eyebrows raised in question. “You and Joel make a great team.” You nodded. “It’s for the best.”

“Somethin’ happen between you two. Joel’s been grumpier than usual.” He stood leaning against the door with a soft smile on his face. 

“Just didn’t work out, that's all.”  Tommy didn’t seem convinced, but he didn’t push you on it. “He ain’t gonna be happy bout this, ya know?” 

“I don’t care. He’s gonna have to get over it. Also, I was hoping to speak to Maria. Is she about?” He nodded before tilting his head to the side. “She’s out back. Want me to get her for ya?”

“Is it ok if I head on back?” He nods, stepping aside to let you pass by before he grabs his denim jacket. “Will you tell Maria I’m gonna head out and find Joel. Gotta go and break the good news to him.” 

“Sure. And Tommy, make sure he’s alright for me.” He winks at you before closing the door behind him. You make your way out back to find Maria planting some seeds, baby Luna cooing up at her from her stroller. 

“Hey,” you say softly, hoping not to startle them as you walk out into the garden. “Oh hey, I wasn't expecting you.” She dusted her hands on her jeans as she stood to greet you with a hug. 

“Yeah, I just wanted to talk to you about something. Tommy said he’s gone to find Joel.” Maria smiles at you before bending down to pick Luna up. “Sure, let's head back inside and I’ll make us a cup of tea.”

“So, what’s up,” she asks, placing Luna in her highchair and making her way to the stove to start boiling the water. You shift nervously from one foot to the other and when you don’t answer, Maria turns around to look at you. 

“Everything ok?” Her eyes are wide with concern and when you start to cry, she rushes over and pulls you into a tight hug. “It’s Joel, isn’t it? I knew it. I told Tommy somethin had happened between you two.” 

Her hands rubbed your back soothingly as you calmed down to a quiet sob. “I’m - I'm pregnant. It’s Joel’s.”

“Well, that’s obvious.” She teases as she pulls back slightly. You let out a little laugh before you sob again. 

“Oh honey, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean anything I just ....”

“No,” you shake your head, wiping the tears from your face. “Joel doesn’t think it’s his. Well at least I think so…I don’t know. He said that he’s never…. ya know…cum inside me so it couldn’t be his but I told him that the pullout method isn’t guaranteed. Sorry, I’m rambling.”

Maria shushes you. “You don’t have anything to be sorry for. Jesus, I knew I didn’t like him for a reason. Asshole. You ain’t been with anyone else since he got here. Hell, anyone with a set of eyes can see you’re besotted by him.”

She pulls away and makes you both some hot tea before ushering you into the sitting room. “Here,” she hands you a cup and takes a seat beside you, Luna sitting happily in her chair eating some porridge. 

“I don’t know what to do,” you whisper as you take a sip of the hot liquid. You don’t know if you can do it without him. “Well first things first, are you keeping it? If you don’t want to, we have options here. You can take some herbs that will terminate the pregnancy.”

Shaking your head, you place the cup on the coffee table. “No, I want to keep it. I’ve - I’ve always wanted to be a mom. Never thought I’d get the chance.”

“Ok, then we can help you. You won’t be alone in this. Tommy and I will be there and Ellie. Does she know yet?” 

“No. I haven’t said anything, and I don’t know if I should. It’s not my place and besides me and Joel, we weren’t together like that.”

“Oh, bullshit. Who said that Joel? He’s more delusional than I thought. You two were joined at the hip, you were practically married. And look with Ellie it’s up to you but she is gonna find out eventually, I mean you’re gonna start showing and then what?”

“I know. I’ll think about it. What happens now?” You reach out and take your cup in hand again, sipping slowly on the warm tea. Maria smiles as she glances at her daughter. “Well, we have a scanning machine so the doctor can determine how far along you are and if the baby is doing ok. He’ll give you the vitamins you need to be taking and keep a regular eye on you.”

“Wow, that’s amazing. Didn’t think those were still available.” You smile over at Luna as she makes grabby hands at Maria. 

“Yeah, we found one at the nearest hospital and Tommy brought it back hoping it would still work, and it did. He was a little over-cautious when I was pregnant.” She laughs as Luna bounces happily in her lap. 

“We should get you over to him now, that way we know for sure what’s going on.” Maria stands and quickly bundles Luna into her stroller ready to take you to the doctor. You make it to the end of the street when you bump into Tommy and Joel. 

They’re laughing at something Tommy said but as soon as they spot you Joel's face goes serious. All four of you stop and Joel just stares at you. It’s awkward. Tommy and Maria share a look, but you don’t notice, too caught up in the way Joel is staring at you. 

“Where are my two girls off to?” Tommy asks as he pulls Maria in close for a kiss. The sound of his voice breaks Joel from his trance and his gaze drifts to Luna who's cooing up at him. 

“Just bringing Y/N to see Jason.” You can feel Joel’s eyes on you again, but you refuse to meet his gaze, focusing instead on Tommy.

“You’re not sick are ya?” He asks, worried, as his eyes drift to you. You shake your head and glance at Joel before meeting his gaze again. 

“Alright, we’ll leave you, ladies, to it. See ya home for dinner,” he says to Maria before kissing her softly. “Yeah. I’ve left everything simmering on the stove so just wait until I get back.” 

Joel’s gaze follows you until both you and Maria are out of sight. “Alright, what the hell is goin’ on with two? And don’t say nothin, 'cause that ain’t nothin.” 

Joel huffs out a breath as he stares at his brother, the crease between his brows deepening. “She’s pregnant,” He snapped. 

“And you ain’t happy bout it, I take it?” Tommy asked, quickly masking the shock on his face.  They continue to walk, making their way through town towards the empty bar. Joel exhales loudly as he takes a seat at the bar. “I don’t know how I feel,” he sighs as Tommy hands him a glass of whiskey.

He tips his glass in the air towards his brother before downing the golden liquid. “I never thought I’d ever be a dad again, not after…not after Sarah.”

Tommy refills his glass, taking a sip of his drink. “I know. But you’re a dad to Ellie, what's one more.” He leans across the bar, eyes focused on Joel as he picks at a beer mat. “And you love Y/N, even if you can’t admit it out loud. Joel, I’ve watched you struggle my whole life, I’ve watched you blame yourself for Sarah but guess what? It ain’t your fault. None of it is. This is your second chance at a normal life, if it were me, I’d grab it with both hands. Hell, I already did. We’re safe here. So, what’s holding you back?”

“I don’t deserve it.” He gulps back his second glass and bangs it down on the bar before standing and leaving Tommy alone. 

“Stubborn ass,” Tommy shouts after him.

***

You’ve begun to show. A small bump that was barely visible from a distance but a clear sign to the people of Jackson that their community was growing. 

Ellie had found out about the baby and has been practically living at your side since. Joel had told her after his night with Tommy and even though you’re not sure what exactly he told her, you’re happy it didn’t cause a rift between them. 

“I hope it’s a boy,” she beams as she helps you prepare dinner. You smile at her as you cut up the potatoes. “I have a feeling it’s a girl. Call it mother’s intuition.” 

“As long as I can teach them how to hunt, I’m happy with either.” You snigger and she smiles up at you, happy to see you laugh for once. 

“Joel thinks it’s a girl too,” she says as she peels the carrots, her smile fading when she realises what she’s said. Her eyes drift to you and when she sees you standing still, hands shaking slightly she pales. 

“M’sorry Y/N, I didn’t mean to bring him up…I just….” You shake your head, placing the knife gently down on the countertop as you untie your apron. “I’m just - I’m gonna just head to the store. I completely forgot the flour for dessert.” 

Rushing out the door you let your legs carry you as you try to catch your breath. He thought you were having a girl. Had he been talking about the baby to Ellie? Does he want to be a father now? 

Your mind was racing with these thoughts, and you were distracted when you turned the corner. A gasped breath leaves your lungs when you see Joel laughing at something the pretty blonde woman said. Who the fuck was she? 

You feel your heart shattering into little pieces and your lungs tighten as you take in the happy expression on his face. You have to get out of here, you think to yourself, but before you can move, he turns and catches your gaze. 

Something flashes behind his eyes, and he starts to move towards you but you don’t want to talk to him. Can’t bear for him to tell you he’s moved on, so you run home. 

The door closes behind you and you rest your head against it, willing your lungs to take the breaths you desperately need. A soft knock startles you, but you already know who it is. 

“What do you want Joel?” You ask as you turn to face the wooden door. You can hear him sigh deeply from the other side. “S’not what you thought, darlin. I promise.”

“And what is it you think I thought?” You can feel a deep anger bubbling away beneath the surface of your skin. 

“Please - please just let me in and we can talk.” You scoff. “Now you wanna talk. You had over a month and instead of talking to me, you completely ignored me.”

“I know, darlin’ but please, just let me say my piece and if you want nothin to do with me still, I’ll leave you alone.” That ache in your chest starts again and you find yourself torn between wanting to hear him out and telling him to fuck off. 

“Fine. You have ten minutes.” You turn the handle and open the door to find him standing with his hands in his jeans pocket, head facing the ground but as soon as he hears the door open, his gaze meets yours. 

“Hey.” His eyes take you in, lingering on the swell of your stomach, something he hadn’t noticed until now. His breath catches at the sight, and he wants nothing more than to reach out and touch you. He knows he can’t. 

“So. You’ve moved on then?” You start as you move further into the house, Joel hot on your heels. 

“What?! I ain’t moved on, no that’s - shit that’s not what that was I promise.” He sighs, running his hand down along his face.  “She’s helping me with something.”

“Sure.” You scoff, crossing your arms over your chest. “Does she know you’re about to have a baby you want nothing to do with? That you abandoned the woman who loves you.” 

“You shouldn’t love me. I’m not a good man. I ain’t good enough for you darlin. There are a lot of other men here that are far better for you than me.” His hands are at his side now and you can tell from the way he flexes them that he wants to reach out to you. 

“I don’t want other men. I just want you,” you whisper. “Do you love me?”

“It’s not that simple. I - I’m scared darlin’.” His voice breaks and you can see he’s holding back tears. 

“I hate to break it to you Joel, but love is fucking scary. It strips you raw to the bone and leaves you vulnerable but that’s also the beauty of it. I never thought in a million years I’d find it in this fucked up world and yet I did. I love you, Joel. I love Ellie and this baby and even Tommy and Maria and loving all of these people put me at risk of getting hurt but I love them anyway.” 

You take a deep breath, eyes drifting towards the window before you meet his gaze again. “I know you’re scared. Scared to have connections, scared to love but guess what, so am I. Everyone is. But I’m willing to take the chance, are you?” 

He nods as he releases a breath. His shoulders relax and the hard planes of his face soften as he shifts closer.  It’s like a switch has flicked for him and he realises what an idiot he’s been. 

“I’m sorry baby. I’m sorry for everything. I never meant those things I said that morning, I was just scared is all. I know that ain’t no excuse but it’s the truth.” His eyes drift to the small bump visible beneath his plaid shirt. 

He wondered where that shirt had gone. He smiles softly at the idea that you’ve been wearing it this whole time. He wants to reach out and touch you. To run his hand over your bump but he doesn’t. 

“Let me prove I can give you more, that I can be the kind of man who deserves you and our baby. Please darlin’,” he begs, his eyes pleading as he moves closer. You feel a swell of emotion rising in your throat, threatening to spill out and even though there’s a small part of you that still hates him for what he said that morning, an even bigger part loves him more than life itself. 

Words escape you but with a simple nod of your head, he slips an arm around your waist pulling you close. The other cradles your cheek, his thumb rubs circles into your skin as he stares at you lovingly. 

“I’m gonna make it up to you baby, I promise. We’re in this together, always.” A watery smile spreads across your face and his eyes drift briefly to your lips before he begins to lean in. When his lips touch yours it’s as if a spark has been lit and you can’t help the soft moan that slips out. 

The kiss becomes more heated by the second and he pulls you closer, so close that you can feel the warmth from his skin seeping into you, that you can feel the evidence of his arousal against your thigh. The sound of a door closing upstairs startles you both. “It’s just me. Is it safe to come down now? I’m just gonna head to Dina’s and then you two can get back to sucking the face off each other,” Ellie calls from the hallway before she makes her way into the kitchen. 

Pulling away with a laugh, Joel rests his head against yours. “So, you weren’t flirting with that woman?” You ask for the second time. He chuckles, unable to think that your jealousy is anything but cute. 

“I promise you, darlin’. I was just trying to get some stuff for the baby. Was gonna gather as much as I could for a nursery at the new house and then I was gonna come to beg for forgiveness.” 

You breathe a sigh of relief. Thank fuck, you think to yourself as you wind your arms around his neck. He slips his own tighter around your waist and you close your eyes and breathe him in. He smells of whiskey and citrus. He smells like home. 

“What new house?” You question as you pull away slightly. 

“Oh, you told her. Finally, can I come with you when you show her,” Ellie’s voice sounds from behind you and you both turn to face her. 

“No kid, you got school, remember,” Joel says, his voice a little stern as he tilts his head towards the front door. 

“Ugh, fine. Whatever. I’ll see you later.” She huffs out as she turns to leave. Joel turns his attention back to you and he smiles down at you as you look at him with confusion on your face. 

“Come on, got somethin’ I need to show ya.” He links his hand with yours and guides you out of the house and down the street. “Where are we going?” You ask as you look around, the houses slowly fading away as he pulls you towards a small house at the edge of Jackson. 

“This,” he says as he pulls you to stand in front of him. His arms slip around your waist to cradle your bump. “Is home.”

“Home?” Your voice squeaks as you take in the once-dilapidated house, now fully refurbished. He hums as he rests his head on your shoulder. “Yeah, home. Been working on this since you told me you were pregnant. Roped Tommy into helpin’ me too. It’s not much, but it’s ours. Somewhere for us to call home and be a family.” 

A strangled sob escapes from your lips and he turns you in his arms, holding you close as he tilts your chin upwards. “The minute I left you that mornin’ I regretted it. Went straight to

Tommy and told him I wanted to work on this for us”, his hand moves to rest on your bump, “for our family.”

“It’s got plenty of room. Four bedrooms, a nice size kitchen and a living room. Ellie already has her stuff moved in and I think I’ve got most of the things we’ll need for the baby. Now all that’s left to do is ask if you’re willing to move in with us. With me.”

“Yes. Yeah, I’m ready.” He smiles brightly at you before capturing your lips in a searing kiss. 

“Wanna see it, darlin’?” You nod your head and twine your fingers with his as he leads you inside. You gasp in awe as you take everything in. It’s beautiful. Homely. Somewhere you can picture yourself for the rest of your life. 

“I love it, Joel.” He smiles, “come on, I wanna show you the nursery.” He leads you up the stairs and down the hall to the last room on the left. He holds the handle in his hand and turns to you with a smile. “Ready?”

You nod. Heart racing as he slowly opens the door, and you gasp when you see the way he has decorated it. A pale yellow adorns the walls with pictures of animals in small frames. There’s a small crib in the middle of the room and a little dresser to one side. On the other, there’s a rocking chair and a small bookshelf beside it with a few books already littering the shelves. 

“Joel - Joel it’s amazing. I can’t believe you did all this. Where’d you find everything?” He stands beside you with his arm around your waist. “Found most of it on patrols. Borrowed the chair from Lauren,” he leans in close, his breath hot on your ear, “the woman you were jealous of. And I made the crib myself.”

“You made it? Oh, Joel…” you begin to cry, and he pulls you close kissing the top of your head. “Shh, baby. It’s alright. I want our little one to have the best is all.” 

“Thank you. I mean it…this is amazing.” He leans in and kisses you softly. “Gotta provide for what’s mine. Now, how about I show you our room,” he teases as he quirks a brow. 

You shake your head as you giggle. “Go on then.” Your new shared room is right next door and when you walk inside you take a quick look around. It looks cosy. A huge bed, two lockers and a bookshelf with some of your favourites. 

Your heart swells but you don't get to dwell on it as he quickly closed the door behind him and pushed you gently onto the bed. He stood there staring, his eyes taking in the curve of your body and the swell of your stomach with hunger you’d never seen in him before, and you shuddered. 

“Been thinkin’ bout this for far too long, darlin’.” He breaths raggedly, his eyes watching carefully as you begin to remove your clothing. He gulps and a strangled groan slips past his slightly rough lips as he takes in the sight of you bare, the peak of your nipples pebbling with the cool air. 

He quickly shucks off his boots as he climbs up the bed towards you, his body completely covering you. His mouth finds your nipple, pulling it between his teeth and you moan loudly, fingers running through his hair. 

A sudden need washed over you. A need to feel him against you. To feel his bare skin against your own as you both seek out that pleasure you’ve wanted since that last morning. 

With a shaky breath, you slowly move his shirt up his body and he’s quick to help you. Pulling the shirt over his shoulders, he tosses it onto the floor and his jeans quickly follow leaving him bare. His hazel eyes stare down at you and there’s a vulnerability behind them. 

You reach up wrapping your hand around his neck and you pull him into you, your lips meeting in a searing kiss. His hands grip your hips tight as he nestles himself between your thighs, careful not to crush you or the baby. 

You angled your hips, urging him to sink inside you and take what he wanted. Taking himself in his hand, he notches the head of his cock at your entrance and with a roll of his hips, he sinks into your heat. 

“Fuck, darlin’. So, god damn tight,” he says with a strangled groan. He begins to move, slowly at first pulling himself almost out before pushing back in. 

The sound of your soft whimpers and the sight of you writhing in pleasure beneath him has him losing his fucking mind. He grabs your leg, throwing it over his hip as he begins to pound into you, the bed groaning with each thrust of his hips. 

“Fuck, darlin’…I’m-I’m so close…need ya to…need ya to come first,” he groans into the skin of your neck, his teeth nipping you softly. 

“Joel…. oh god I’m gonna….” You gasp as your orgasm pulses through you. He lets out a strangled groan at the feel of your cunt clenching tight around him. 

His hips begin to falter and the only sounds he lets out are soft grunts as he nears his release. He rolls his hips again and again until he cums, groaning loudly as he spills inside you. 

He slowly pulls out and reaches over the side of the bed to grab his tattered t-shirt, using it to clean you up.  He collapses onto the bed beside you pulling you into his chest. 

His fingers trace a pattern into your skin. “Ellie said you think it’s a girl.” You watch as a smile edges its way onto his face, his palm resting gently over the swell of your stomach. 

“I don’t think darlin’, I know. She’s gonna be pretty like her mama. Cheeky like her big sister and she’s gonna have me wrapped around her little finger.” A hint of sadness washes over his face and you reach out to touch his cheek. 

“Hey, you ok?” He smiles then, his eyes glossing over with unshed tears. “Yeah, darlin’. I’m happy it’s just…”

“You’re thinkin about Sarah.” His eyes widened. How do you always know what he’s thinkin?

“Yeah. She always wanted to be a big sister. She’d be so excited about this little one.”

“Maybe we could have Sarah be her middle name. A way to remember her big sister.” Joel smiles pulling you into him as he crashes his lips to yours. “You are amazing’ darlin, you know that? Got my whole world right here,” he says, cradling your stomach once more. 

“Don’t forget about me,” Ellie shouts from her room. You both turn to look at the door. “How the hell did she come in without us knowin’?” Joel shifts to lean on his elbow. You shrug your shoulders as a small giggle escapes you. 

“Think it’s funny do ya?” He begins to tickle you and you start to laugh loudly. “Are you two done? Because I’m starving.” 

Joel laughs then, resting his head in the crook of your neck. “Suppose we better get up and make some dinner. Then I’m gonna rope Tommy into helpin’ me move your stuff over.”

“Sounds like a plan, Miller.” You watch as he dresses and makes for the door. He turns to face you, “better get used to that name darlin’ cause you’re gonna be a Miller soon too.” With a wink, he opens the door and makes his way downstairs leaving you alone, shocked at what he just said. 

Mrs Miller. You like the sound of that. 

Everything: @maievdenoir @amneris21 @hnt-escape @elegantduckturtle @harriedandharassed @jediknight122 @ayrusss @hayley-the-comet @sherala007 @alexxavicry @scorpio-marionette @donnaa @practicalghost @tanzthompson @beskarprincessjenny @littlemisspascal @icanbeyourjedi @thatpinkshirt @maryfanson @sunnshineeexoxo @misspearly1 @misspearlssideblog @athalien @its--fandom--darling @sara-alonso @doommommy @browneyes-issac @trickstersp8 @nembees @kaitieskidmore1 @mswarriorbabe80 @allthe-ships @tintinn16 @hungrhay @rosie-posie08 @manuymesut @all-the-way-down-here @iccedays @tusk89 @graciexmarvel @pedrostories @musings-of-a-rose @untitledarea @your-voice-is-mellifluous @majestyjade @avengersfan25 @angstismydrug @everythingfan @pedrosbum

[oh-koenig-my-koenig]

waking up in his bed

(cw: age gap 25/41, nsfw, mdni, marks, a bit of spit stuff, dry (wet?) humping, swallowing)

part before: hanging off König's shoulder

When I open my eyes up again, for just a moment, I don’t know where I am. My own confused image stairs back at me – right, the mirror on his ceiling! And I laugh to myself because it’s ridiculous. The whole concept is!

I stretch myself, yawning. Realising that I’m alone in the kingsize bed. I mean, it would be impossible to miss the big guy. I still feel his lingering touches, the way he held onto me as we fell asleep together. Reminders of the first time hooking up after the concert.

I’m somebody who normally can’t sleep in a tight embrace, but he was pratically latching onto me both times. Subconsciously in his sleep. Holding onto me, softly still. If it were possible for him to wrap himself around me completely, I bet he would’ve done it. His big arm resting over my torso, the forearm securely between my breasts, his hand on the side of my face. One of his legs strewn over one of mine. Almost like a human weighted blankie. And I still slept soundly.

I yawn and stretch again, until I notice a little piece of paper stuck to my arm. I peel it off and look at it.

That explains where he went off to, but it also makes him out be a liar, because I don’t believe I look anywhere near cute in the morning. Drooling into the soft pillow underneath my head. My hair standing off to the side. Probably snoring as well.

And I have to laugh as I see the little doodle in the right corner. Honestly, it’s a relief to see – considering the man’s many talents – that he isn’t good at everything. Drawing doesn’t seem to be his forte. But at the same time, this was painfully cute. The note, the doodle, everything. I giggle to myself and finally pull back the covers.

I assess the ‘damage’ while I get up: Booty hurts a little bit, probably from getting fucked into the hard wood surface of the bar. The muscles in my legs are a little tense, my shoulders and neck feel a bit stiff, and my pussy is a little bit sore (and deeply satisfied). The hickeys and the faint bitemark on my inner thighs bring a little smile to my face. It couldn’t have been clearer if he had written ‘König was here’ in waterproof sharpie on them.

I put on my shirt, still not daring to take one of his because of how it might look, and curse myself because I didn’t pack more clothes. It’s not terribly stinky or stained, but it definitely looked better yesterday. I quickly brush my teeth, my eyes darting to the shower, remnants of last night in the forefront of my mind before I go on a search for my panties.

I find them on the floor in the bar, the memories of yesterday flooding me, the forgotten cocktail still on the bar. He had to make another one, because the icecubes had already melted and the gin was warm.

I leave the cellar going up the stairs until I stand in the living room again, looking at the books I set aside yesterday.

There is another crystal tumbler on the end table, this one empty. Just one because we shared it.

The glass moving from my hand to his and back, while we were listening to music, talking. Cuddling on the couch. My legs splayed over his thighs, barely reaching all the way to the other side. His arm around my waist, his thumb painting little circles over my hip. My fingers tangled in his hair and digging into the scalp, massaging gently until he was humming quietly.

His mouth placed on the glass where mine was, just a moment before, taking another sip.

Lingering kisses, slow and sweet, turning into little sips of the drink being passed between us. Tasting him and the gin at the same time. A heady combination.

I felt myself getting sleepier and sleepier the later it got, until I yawned and almost fell asleep in his arms, then he finally got me to agree that we should head to bed.

I hear the front door open, the sound ripping me from my memories. I turn around, skipping in that direction.

König is standing in the hallway, taking off his shoes, a grocery bag in his hands. In his usual leatherjacket, shirt and… sweatpants? Casual black sweatpants. Yeah no, I totally feel normal about them. I can’t help but ogle him, because he looks like a wet dream, even in the most mundane outfits.

He sees me, his face lighting up in a grin. “No pants again, huh?”, he comments, his eyes dropping down my body.

I blush. “Uh, I can put some on, if it bothers you.”

He laughs. “Doncha dare hide that cute ass of yours.” He comes closer and leans down, dropping a kiss onto my mouth and his hand to my ass. Patting it twice, quickly and playful. “I almost didn't want to leave bed this morning...”, he whispers against my lips and deepens the kiss, for just a moment.

“I got your note.”, I say as we tumble into the kitchen.

He puts the shopping bag down on the counter. “Yeah, went to the supermarket. And I also got us some croissants from the bakery.”

“The little shop at the corner to Main Street?”, I ask.

“Yes.”, he smiles.

“Hell yeah, I love their croissants, they're the best.”, I exclaim.

“Baked goods, the only thing the french are good at.”, he comments pointedly.

“Oh man, you and the french.”, I laugh as I hop onto the kitchen counter beside the coffee maker. Watching him unpack the groceries and getting said baked goods.

He pulls one croissant out of the brown paper bag and hands it to me unceremoniously. I grab it and take a bite, the flakey dough bursting as my teeth cut through it. The little sigh that drops from my lips sounds a little too enamored, a little too enthused for just eating a croissant. He looks at me, his jaw dropping just a bit.

“What?”, I ask, still munching on the pastry dough.

“Nothing.” He shakes his head mumbling something that sounds a bit like "never thought I'd be jealous of a fucking croissant".

That makes me laugh. "Thanks for getting them, but you didn't need to get up early for that."

He shrugs. "I'm an early bird anyway out of habit, and I had to go out and buy some milk, because I forgot about that.", he explains, pulling said milk out of the grocery bag.

I look at him, a little confused.

"I drink my coffee black, so I never have any milk at home.", he adds, as if that was a given.

A grin stalks on my face. “Of course you do.”, I say pointedly.

“Now, what's that supposed to mean?”, he asks.

I tilt my head and pull my brows up, all like 'are you being serious?'. “Let's just say that I would have been way more surprised if the over 40-year-old metalhead, who has a car that looks like it's from the nineties, who still collects vinyls and CDs, who would rather drink his gin neat and who's biggest kitchen appliance is a barista coffee machine with all the knick-knacks – if he drank a latte in the morning.”

He laughs, the hearty sound making me all giddy. “Tell me how you really feel.”, he says, his eyes sparkling at me, while jokingly clasping one hand over his heart.

“Sorry.”, I say, grinning at him.

He waves it off. “Don’t be, I deserved that.” He gets some coffee beans ready, putting them through the grinder and then fitting the portafilter into the barista machine.

While the coffee drips down into the cup, he comes closer standing right in between my knees. “But, how about you, missy? Do you like a latte in the morning?” The little quirk of the corner of his mouth is telling me that this isn’t just some question about my coffee preferences. It’s one of his telltale signs.

“I do, but I feel like I'm missing the joke here.”, I say, looking up at him. Sitting on the counter, he still towers over me, more than a head taller than me.

He chuckles. “Well, ‘Latte’ is also another word for boner in German, so...” He sees the grimace I'm making and laughs some more, and I join in, while shaking my head. He steps away and repeats the process, getting another coffee ready.

"I'm starting to think that your language only has dirty innuendos and curses.", I remark, jokingly.

He grins. "That just might be my vocabulary." He pours some milk into a metal jug and froths it, adding the froth to the mug after the coffee is ready. Wincing at the shitload of milk he put in. "Here, a latte for the lady.", he says, while handing me the mug.

My eyes drop down of their own volition, as I take it from his hands. Openly staring at his crotch, where his sweatpants are clearly tented by his dick. And he comes even closer with the way I'm looking at him.

My gaze pans up again until it lands on his face, his expression stoic, as he’s pulling an eyebrow up, like he’s awaiting what I’ll do. I take a drink, tasting the coffee on my tongue. "Thank you. For the latte." Trying to hide my grin behind the mug. "Sir.", I add, cheekily.

He leans forward, placing his hands on either side of me, caging me in. The look in his eyes burning into me. I still grin up at him, but I feel like I'm in danger. In danger of getting devoured like one of those flaky croissants.

"You wanna say that again with your lips around my dick? Hm?", he asks and my breath halts. Thinking about yesterday again. When I sat on his bed, gagging around his cock.

"Maybe.", I whisper. He just leans down to kiss me and I can taste the bitter coffee on his tongue, as it strokes against mine. Slow and deep.

I put the cup down to the side before my arms reach up, holding onto his shoulders, his hair falling to the front, the tips of it brushing over my skin. I push some of it back, my fingers tangle in the long strands, while I answer his kiss.

He's not breaking away, still caging me in, even though one of his hands moves to my panties. The fingers toying with the hem, easily slipping under the fabric. My legs spread even wider, I squirm into his touch and our kiss gets messier, sloppier. His thumb finds my clit, softly pressing against it, and the light touch makes me needy for more.

"Fuck, please.", I whimper into the kiss, and I can feel his lips turn up into a smile. He breaks away, keeping up the constant brushes against my clit, kissing down to my neck.

My hand tries to reach for his dick, but he catches my wrist. "Just- let me.", he murmurs, pressing his hot mouth against my pulse point. Sucking on it softly. A needy mewl escapes me when his middle finger slips into me. Just one digit, not quite enough to fill me up, even with his big fingers.

Soft teasing touches, enough to get me worked up, but not enough to get me anywhere near finishing. And he knows what he's doing.

König pulls back, his lids hooded, his gaze intently on me, which makes me acutely aware of the expression on my own face, the O shape of my mouth. His finger is still moving inside me, the brushes against the most sensitive spot make me squirm.

I teether on the edge of an orgasm, until he pushes another one inside me, filling me up. His fingers move fast now, against my fluttering walls. Coaxing the release out of me and I come, pulsing around them. Leaving me wet and needy for more touches.

He pulls the panties over my pussy again, the fabric soaking up my juices in an instant. His hand clasps over it, softly massaging over it, until they soaked wet with my own juices.

König simply pushes his sweatpants down, pulling out his cock, letting it rest against my clothed pussy. Then he spits and a dollop of saliva drops onto my panties. The sound alone makes me whimper, while I lean back until my shoulderblades hit the cabinets behind me.

The spit runs down, right over the tip of his dick. He drags it through it, spreading the wetness on his length, soaking my underwear even more. Slow and deliberate, taking his time. The slick just being enough, so he can flit over it.

I groan at the sight, the filthy little move making me even hotter. He pulls up one eyebrow while looking at me, the smirk on his lips infuriatingly cocky. He ruts his hips forward, his hard dick pushing against my pussy lips and clit. The friction due to the fabric in between us, against my sensitive skin, is almost too much to handle, my hands gripping his arms, nails digging into his biceps.

His hands splayed on my thighs and he looks down, my eyes following his until we're both fixed on the spot where he is rubbing himself against me. The little hickeys on the skin next to it. His thumb coasts over the bitemark on my inner thigh, a faint imprint still showing up. He lifts his hand for just a moment, pressing a kiss to his pointer and middle finger and then pressing them onto the mark.

If I wasn't so wound tight from his teasing touches, I think I would've actually awww'ed at the little gesture, him kissing the bite better. Like this, I only sigh, grinding against his dick, searching for more friction.

He slumps forward, his forehead resting against mine. "Fuck, I need to be inside you.", he grunts, his words sending a shiver down my spine. He lifts me from the countertop, my legs wrapping around him.

"What, no magic condoms appearing out of thin air this time?", I tease him, my fingers stroking over his shoulders.

“The magician is out of props for such stunts.”, he grumbles. “And there will still be enough time to fuck you on every surface in the whole house.”

He hurries upstairs to the bedroom where he sets me down on the bed and we both scramble to get off our clothes. I pull my shirt over my head and fall into the soft mattress, watching him shed his. His dick is hanging out his sweatpants, half caught in the waistband, bobbing up and down with his movements before he lets the pants fall down to the floor.

He grabs a condom out of the pack that's lying out on the nightstand, the packaging torn at the front, and puts the rubber on.

My eyes pan up from the dark fluff of his happy trail, the tummy, the upper abs and his huge pecs, dark hair peppered over them. His nipple piercing. The broad shoulders, adorned with black ink that spans down his arms as well. Trying not to look at the parts where cuts and other scars disturbed the otherwise impeccable images inked into the skin.

He looks back at me, from underneath his eyebrows, one of them quirking up, as he climbs onto the mattress, his weight pushing it down.

I yelp and giggle, as he grabs me by the hips, pulls me into him, until the swells of my ass hit his thick thighs. My legs drop to the side on their own, and he takes that as the invitation it is, his hand pulling the wet panties to the side and just slipping into me.

We both groan as he settles deep inside me, the stretch of his thickness making my head drop back and my eyes roll back.

His hand catches my chin, softly digging into it. Making me look up as he sits back on his knees and slowly starts to fuck me.

“See how fucking pretty you are?”

His eyes are on me, on my face, while I look up at the mirror, focused in on the point where we are connected. Seeing how his dick pushes into me, until he's balls deep, his tip pressing up against my cervix.

Sliding out, inch by inch, almost completely pulling out. In again. I feel the stretch as my pussy takes him in. It's a tight fit, but I'm wet and dripping from how he worked me up.

And out. The feeling of emptiness only dissipates, when his hips snap forward, filling me up quickly, and a moan drops from my lips, the shape contorted to an O.

He starts to fuck me harder, his hand coming around my throat, his fingers closing around my neck, gentler than I would have liked. Pulling me into him while he pounds into me. His hand is other still grabbing onto my panties, the fabric aching as he uses it as leverage to move me into his thrusts.

Rip.

The sound of fabric ripping cuts through the otherwise soft erotic soundscape. The drowsiness drops out of his gaze, his eyes widen in shock, as he looks down, stopping his thrusts. "Scheiße, sorry.", he curses.

I laugh a bit while I shake my head. "Don't worry, it's just clothes.", sitting up on my elbows, reaching out for him. Needing him to continue.

He lets go of them, the fabric hanging from my hips, and leans forward, pressing a deep kiss onto my mouth in apology. His hand softly strokes the side of my face, his thumb caressing my cheek. Close, so close, his forehead resting against mine, as he rolls his hips against me.

He straightens back up, picking up his thrusts again. His arm spans over my whole body, the muscled limb covering half of me. I feel so small compared to him, the contrast so stark when I'm splayed out like this in front of him.

His hand moves down a bit and his thumb pushes against my lips. I lick it, play with it and then release it with a pop, but just a moment later two of his fingers push into my mouth again.

He sinks in deep, my lips closing around them. Two is almost too much already. I start to lick them, to suck on his fingers, hesitatingly at first, but the little sounds that drop from his lips spur me on.

He moves them in unison with the pushes of his dick into me. The combined touches making me lose my mind fast. It almost was like he was fucking me from the front and back at the same time.

I gag around him, spit coats his digits as I suck them off like I would another part of him. And I guess, he is thinking about that as well, the heat in his gaze intensifying.

The sight mirrored back to me – of his dick pounding into me, while his fingers are fucking my mouth all sloppily, pushing into the wet heat, my lips barely reaching the lettering on his knuckles, is getting me worked up.

From the way he's looking at me, his eyes fixed on my face, while I swallow him up, it's driving him crazy too. Groaning, as I take him deep.

Him, just him, fucking me. And me at his mercy. Full, so full of him. And I can't help but think about what it would be like to have him fill all of my holes. The thought alone sends a tingle of filthy desire down my spine and I hum around him.

"Fuck, look at you, taking me so well.", he drawls. His words, the soft growl in them, wash over me and I can feel the zap of pleasure deep, when he bottoms me out, his dick hitting the right spot again.

I come, my body arching off the sheets, my sighs and screams muffled by the fingers in my mouth, as my eyes roll back.

He doesn't stop, fucking me through it. My pussy squeezes around him, and while I still come down from the orgasm, I can feel his other hand grabbing my hip, holding tight. His fingers still in my mouth, stroking against my tongue. Sinking into my throat, the letters on his knuckles disappearing as he pushes further in, and I gag around them once again.

They leave my mouth, all of a sudden, and I take a deep breath. "Please fuck, I-", he groans. "I want to come in your mouth. May I?" The inflection in his voice is almost pleading.

I nod, the thought alone sending another shiver of arousal through me. “Yes.”, I answer breathlessly, still a little hazy from my orgasm.

He pulls back entirely, his dick slipping out of my pussy. I scramble onto my knees, while he gets up from the bed, standing in front of it.

Getting off the condom quickly, his hand running up and down his length, continuing to chase his release. My spit is still on the two digits that were just inside me, now slowly coating his cock.

I press a soft kiss to the tip that is leaking precum, tasting the saltiness on my tongue. Flicking it over the piercing. My eyes pan up, searching for his, before I take him a little deeper into my mouth. Sucking on his tip while he jerks himself off. Hasty and desperate. A rumbly moan shakes his chest, his eyes rolling back.

"Fuck, gonna cum.", he mutters, the words all breathy.

I hum around his dick, licking and sucking eagerly, when he spills onto my tongue and down my throat. I lick up every single drop, swallowing it all. He shakes and shivers when I don't stop sucking until he's spent.

I release him with pop, when his fingers grip my chin, and open my mouth to show him. "Good fucking girl.", he drawls, the praise washing over me, as I sit back on my knees. He crouches down a bit, his eyebrows raised in anticipation. Like he's waiting for something, but he doesn't say anything.

My cheeks blush red, as I remember what we talked about before. "Thank you, Sir.", I say, looking him straight into his eyes.

His answer is a deep satisfied sound, almost turning into a growl, as he leans forward, capturing my mouth in a kiss. Crawling into bed again, pulling me onto his front, until I’m strewn over him like a blanket that isn’t even big enough for the big man. He’s softly stroking my back, the touches comforting and gentle.

I push my cheek into his pecs, the hairs on his chest tickling the soft skin, and I breathe in his scent. The warm calming tone. I feel his upper body rising and sinking with every single breath of his, until we are in unison. The deep calmness almost carries me away, and I feel myself getting sleepy. I mean, we didn’t get a lot of sleep. And getting fucked liked this was tiring, although not tiresome at all.

In the silence around us, a thought of mine cuts through post-fuck haze.

“I don’t wanna go home.”, I whisper against his chest, after looking for the right words to say.

His hand stops for just a second. “Then don't.”, he answers simply, continuing his soft caresses.

I lift my head from his pec, looking at him. “Are you sure? I don't want to disturb your vacation.”, I ask.

“I'm not on vacation, I'm on leave.”, he explains. “And you're not disturbing anything.” A little reassuring smile is appearing on his lips.

“I didn’t bring much though. Not even like any more clothes.”, I say hesitatingly.

“Would it be terribly selfish of me to put you in my stuff to keep you here?”, he asks, the smile widening a bit.

I laugh. “I fear, I won't fit into any of that. I mean, I think I could build a tent to sleep in from the shirts you wear.”

“That's fair.”, he grins at me, pushing my hair out of my face. And then he kisses me again, sweet and slow, until I sigh against his lips.

“You have to stop kissing me like that.”, I say, teasingly.

His smirk drops from his face. “Why?”, he asks.

“Because it makes me want to sit on your dick again.”, I jokingly confess.

He starts laughing, his whole body shaking. “That can be arranged.”, he grins at me.

“But – we can’t stay in bed the whole weekend.”, I retort.

“We can’t?”, he pipes up, his question somewhere between a pouty joke and sincere query.

I think about it for a second. “Mmh, I don’t know. Might tire you out, old man.”, I tease him, sticking my tongue out at him.

His eyes light up, all of a sudden, I get flipped, the whole world is spinning around me. He is on top of me, his weight presses me down into the mattress. His thighs spread my legs for him, his dick lying over my tummy, already hard again.

He grabs another condom. “If you keep this up, we’re gonna go through the whole packet.”, he jokes, one side of his mouth topping up in a smirk.

“Is that a challenge?”, I ask, caressing down his chest, inching in on his dick, while he is still fiddling with the rubber.

He grabs my wrists and pins them over my head, stretching me out on the mattress, while I grin up at him, splayed out like that.

“If you want it to be…”, he whispers against my face, his lips kissing down to my neck while he pushes inside me.

The mug on the kitchen counter is still half full, the coffee now cold. I take a sip, relishing the milky liquid running down my throat. Sitting here at the kitchen island in just his shirt. The Dark Tranquility one he wore when we first met.

“What are you doing?”, he asks me, utterly confused, as he sees me. He put on his sweatpants again and they are as delicious as they were before. Especially in combination with his naked chest.

“Finishing my coffee.”, I explain, taking another long sip.

“But that’s… cold.”, he says, the disgust palpable.

“Yeah, I like it like that. I drink them lukewarm. At best.”, I explain, with full confidence.

“Woman, you drive me crazy.”, he sighs, then laughs, making himself another coffee. Fresh, hot and black. “One of these days, we’re gonna manage to drink the drinks at the temperature they’re so supposed to be enjoyed at.” The loud noise of the coffee maker cuts through my laughter.

“We can certainly try.”, I say, taking another sip from my blasphemous coffee.

“So, about your stuff.”, he starts, as he leans against the kitchen island. The mug in his hand is looking ridiculously small compared to him. Just like me.

“Yeah, my panties are kinda ruined now, too.” I say and shoot him a pointed look.

“I don’t have any panties that will fit you.”, he says, the corner of his lips quirking up.

“No shit sherlock.”, I remark sarcastically, lifting the shirt that is hanging from my shoulders. That’s almost reaching to my knees. You could fit three of me in there.

“We can go to your apartment, you can look after Mimi and get some clothes, and then come back here. It’s no big deal.”, he suggests.

I sigh. “You sure?”

He nods, just waiting for my answer patiently. While I contemplate if it was okay to stay here for longer.

“Okay, quickly, just to get some stuff.”, I agree.

When we go to leave, I notice that my shoes are neatly lined up, not at all how I left them, when I stormed into the house yesterday evening. Standing just right beside an old pair of his combat boots.

next part: painting his nails or more stuff in the Masterlist ~

[shadowdaddies]

Pas de Deux

Azriel x Reader

Summary: As the principal ballerina at Starlight Ballet Theatre, you never expected to enter into a romantic relationship with the Spymaster of the Night Court, or how it would change your life.

Word Count: 2.6k

Based on this ask. 🩶

Warnings: canon-typical violence, mentions of blood

You hissed at the pain of peeling off your pointe shoes, feet bloodied and aching from tonight’s performance. The holiday season leading up to Solstice was always a popular time for the people of Velaris to visit the ballet. As principal dancer of the Starlight Ballet Theatre, you’d been dancing two shows a day during this season, your aching muscles protesting your every step as you bid everyone a good night.

Shoving through the back door, you stumbled into the snowy street. The icy cold against your sore feet sent a jolt of pain through your body, and you stumbled, slipping along the icy cobblestone street. Your feet flew in the air, your back headed for the pavement when strong, warm arms caught you.

You huffed a nervous breath, trying to register what had just happened when you looked up to see the most beautiful male you had ever seen. Hazel eyes focused on you in concern, onyx waves of hair falling in the winged male’s face as he held you.

You blushed under his intense gaze, interrupting the trance the both of you seemed to be in in that moment. Clearing his throat, the male returned your blush as he set you back on your feet.

“Thank you, for that,” you laughed nervously, glancing up through your lashes at the intimidating male before you, his kind eyes at contrast with his guarded demeanor, the dark shadows that seemed to follow him. With a startling realization, you recognized him as the Spymaster of the Night Court.

He cracked a small smile, nodding in acknowledgment. “My name is Azriel. You were wonderful tonight,” he admitted, the blush deepening on his cheeks as he nervously rubbed the back of his neck.

“You watched the show?” you asked, surprised that the famed shadowsinger would visit the ballet.

A small laugh left his lips, a sound more beautiful than any music you had danced to in your life. “I did. I quite enjoy the symphony and the ballet as well.” 

Butterflies erupted in your stomach at his words, the thought of commanding Azriel’s attention like this. The thought was apparently too distracting, a gasp escaping you as your feet slipped on the ice once more. Azriel’s arm wrapped comfortably around your waist, holding you up as you regained your footing. Only this time, he didn’t let go. 

You allowed Azriel to walk you home, falling into easy conversation as you found his company to be that of a soft breeze, calm and refreshing. 

Months passed as you got to know Azriel better, growing more attached and drawn to his presence every day. You enjoyed the excitement and stories he brought from his role as Spymaster, and he enjoyed your calm, relaxed personality, which always brought him peace after a trying day. You looked forward to seeing his face in the crowd at your shows, those hazel eyes keeping you grounded and secure.

Today was the weekend matinee for the Spring show, and you inhaled a shaky breath - your nerves growing as the time until curtain call shrank. Peering around the curtain, you looked to Azriel’s regular seat towards the front in search of his comforting presence, but your eyes locked with a different pair that made your heartbeat stutter.

The violet eyes of High Lord of the Night Court met yours, Rhysand lounged comfortably in his seat next to a tense looking Azriel. Your High Lord gave you a small, encouraging nod that soothed your nerves slightly. With a curtsy, you hid back behind the curtains, wondering what this could mean. 

Azriel was yet to introduce you to his family, and now was one Hel of a time to do so. The orchestra struck up their tune, drawing you from your spiraling thoughts as they signaled the beginning of the show. 

As the show came to a close, you mentally thanked the Mother that you miraculously made it through the performance without a mistake. What was Azriel thinking, bringing Rhysand here without a warning?

Gritting your teeth as you bandaged your hurting feet, you shrugged on pants and scowled as you stormed out the side door with a huff. Two faces greeted you, once with an amused smile and glittering violet eyes, the other grinding his jaw as Azriel glanced between you and Rhysand, anger and shame written on his face.

“It’s wonderful to finally meet you,” Rhysand purred, pressing a kiss to your knuckles as he watched you with a feline grin. “Azriel said that we are going for dinner now?”

A low growl sounded in Azriel’s throat, the spymaster practically shaking in anger, fists clenched at his sides. “I said that we,” he paused, gesturing between you and himself, “were going to dinner, Rhys.”

Rhys seemed completely unbothered by Azriel’s ire, shrugging as he picked a piece of lint from his jacket. “Well, Azriel, as you know, I have important matters to discuss with your lovely lady here.”

Your eyes widened in shock, swallowing as you turned to Azriel. He simply sighed in defeat, sending you an apologetic look. “I am sorry that I didn’t have the opportunity to tell you earlier. Rhys has something to ask of you. But you can say no.” Azriel ground out the last words with a near-threatening tone, looking at Rhys as he spoke them.

Again, Rhys maintained his casual composure as he led you into a small restaurant. The space might have felt cozy, with its small interior and green and gold decoration, but as you looked around to find yourselves the only ones inside, worry twisted in your stomach.

Rhys looked over your shoulder, flashing an impossibly charming smile at the female behind you. “Hello, Sevenda. Thank you again for allowing us to dine here this evening.” 

The woman blushed slightly, nodding as she sang her praises to the High Lord, how grateful she was for the honor to serve him. Plates of food were brought out for all of you, the inviting smell at odds with the unease in your stomach.

Azriel’s hand reached for yours under the table, giving a reassuring squeeze before his focus turned to Rhysand. “Alright Rhys, get on with it. Tell her what you want from her, and we’ll be on our way.”

Rhys breathed out a low chuckle, his posture as casual as ever while he scooped generous helpings of food onto his plate, and yours. He leaned back in his seat, swirling a goblet of wine in his hand, studying you for a brief moment.

“The Night Court would like your assistance with an upcoming meeting of the High Lords,” he drawled, carefully watching your reaction. You were frozen in your chair, mind reeling with the possibilities of what place you would have in a High Lords’ meeting.

Rhys continued, setting down his drink as his tone shifted to one more serious. “I will leave it to Azriel’s discretion to fill you in on any details that I decide to leave out of my proposition, but I would like to use your extraordinary talent. You are, arguably, the most talented dancer in Prythian, and I need someone to provide a... distraction, at a gathering soon in the Day Court.”

You nodded, willing your heart to calm as you tried to focus on Rhysand’s words. “A distraction?” you repeated.

The High Lord nodded, taking a sip of his wine. He set it down, swirling his finger along the edge of the glass as he continued. “If you would agree to be the evening’s entertainment for a night, I believe that your talent would captivate our guests while we attend to... other responsibilities.” 

That didn’t sound terrible. It would be considered an honor by many to be able to perform for all the High Lords and Ladies, but the unusual request still made you uncertain. 

You swirled your own wine glass by the stem, making a show of contemplating his proposal. “And why me? Surely, there are many other possible entertainers, or forms of distraction,” you mused.

Rhys gave you a conspiratorial smirk, eyes shining with approval at your questioning. Leaning back in his seat, the male crossed his arms as he nodded to the Spymaster next to you. “Simple. Azriel trusts you. I have seen your skill, how captivating you can be, and that appeals to the person we need to distract. You are the best option for us to accomplish our goal without rousing suspicion. And you are one of very few whom my spymaster trusts.”

Azriel’s shadows swirled protectively around you, the tension visible in his shoulders as the male merely nodded. Turning to you, Azriel held your hand tightly in his. “Please do not feel pressured at all. You do not need to do anything that you do not want to.”

Azriel’s words and the tenderness with which he spoke them were all you needed to hear. Turning to Rhys, you gave a firm nod. “I’m in.”

Two days later, you found yourself in a private room at the Day Court Palace, slipping on your shoes as Azriel paced anxiously by the door. 

“Beron will be seated front and center during your performance. The Autumn Court has an affinity for dance, so he should be especially interested in you.” Azriel practically growled those last words, his temper rising at the mere mention of the High Lord of Autumn. 

Hazel eyes turned towards you, long legs striding towards where you sat on the floor. Azriel crouched down, a scarred hand brushing the side of your cheek, his soft touch at odds with the visible tension he carried. “You just need to distract Beron long enough for Eris to leave the room unnoticed so that he can meet Cassian for the exchange.”

You nodded, giving Azriel an encouraging smile as he helped you to your feet. “I will never let anyone harm you,” he swore, his voice sharp enough that he might as well have carved the promise in stone. 

You leaned up, kissing him softly as you swore, “I’ll be fine.” A knock sounded on the door, interrupting the moment as Rhysand and Feyre passed through the threshold. 

“Are you ready?” Rhys asked, the pure authority in his tone as he addressed you so different from how he’d been the night you met. Smoothing your skirts, you gestured for him to lead the way.

The setup was simple, but the semicircle of chairs in which the High Lords and Ladies were seated so close to you had your heart pumping. Taking your spot on the dance floor in front of them, you gave Beron a shy, alluring smile as you curtsied.

The orchestra began to play, and your body moved effortlessly to the music. Soft wisps of air twirled with you, giving you comfort that Azriel was close by and watching. Your flowing layers of skirts twirled through the air, flaring out like blooming flower petals as you glowed underneath the faelights. 

The entire room was enraptured by your grace, the siren call of your dance. The musical crescendo built, and with it so did your movements, tears building in the eyes of many in the room as you embodied the emotions of the music through movement. 

You had not even noticed Eris’s departure, a realization that brought a slight smile to your face as the plan seemed to be working. Then the violinist struck a wrong chord, the musicians suddenly in disarray as the melody was lost to the wind. 

You continued to push through, dancing in the silence, but as the audience turned to see what was amiss in the orchestra, the air quickly grew thick with tension. Before you could blink, fire encased your ankles, your wrists, your neck, restraining you in place on the floor.

Beron appeared in front of you, a curious look on his face, as the fire grew hotter around your neck. “Would you happen to know where my son is, Little Diversion?” 

Tears stung your eyes at the burn only for a moment before a blast of blue light knocked Beron halfway across the room. 

“Do not touch my mate,” Azriel growled, siphons glowing as he stalked towards the High Lord. You hardly had time to register Az’s words before an Autumn Court guard stepped out from the side, drawing his sword as it cut through the air towards Azriel.

Finding the slit in your skirt, you drew a throwing knife, piercing directly through the center of the male’s wrist. He dropped his sword with a hiss, the male crumbling to the ground as Azriel turned. The Illyrian’s mouth was ajar as he watched you remove another knife from your thigh holster, flicking it into the throat of another approaching guard. 

Hysteria broke out, High Lords and Ladies fighting alongside their allies, Prythian’s political leaders at each others’ throats in front of your eyes. You picked up the sword from the male you’d cut down, standing back to back with Azriel as you battled off the remaining attackers.

As you tried to catch your breath, strong hands spun you around, Azriel’s eyes intense as they searched your blood-stained outfit for any signs of damage. You let the sword drop to the ground - blood splattering as it clinked against the cold floor - and wrapped your arms around Azriel as you pulled him in for a kiss. 

He held you there, arms wound tightly around you as Azriel rested his forehead against yours. “When did you learn to fight like that?” he breathed.

Laughing softly against his lips, you gave him an incredulous look. “You think I could spend my life with a Spymaster without learning how to defend myself?”

Azriel gasped at your words, drawing back as his brow narrowed in confusion. “You knew we were mates?”

You shook your head, the peacefulness you felt at odds with the chaos surrounding you. “I didn’t have to know that we were mates, to know that I am yours. Always.”

Azriel’s eyes lined with tears, your mate pulling you in for another heated kiss when the sound of a throat clearing beside you interrupted the moment. 

Rhysand stood there with Helion, the two High Lords of Day and Night exuding an intimidating amount of power before you. 

“Beron did initiate an attack during an agreed time of peace by his interruption during this meeting, so he will be dealt with accordingly,” Helion announced, granting Azriel a small, reassuring nod. 

“Cassian confirmed the missive exchange went smoothly,” Rhys paused, looking around the wreckage of the room. “Well, it went smoothly on their end.” Violet eyes flicked to you, approval and kindness clear within them. Rhys took Feyre’s hand, his other coming to lightly clap your shoulder as he leaned in to whisper, “good night, sister.”

You blushed, bidding Rhys and Feyre good night before turning back to Helion and Azriel. Helion took your hand in his, pressing a lingering kiss to your knuckles, his eyes sparkling. “Azriel knows where my room is, if the two of you find yourselves in need... of anything,” he purred with a wink before striding through the doors.

Azriel groaned, pulling you into his chest. Laying your head there, you allowed yourself to savor his warmth for a moment before taking his hand in yours. With a sly smile, you guided Az out the door. Gesturing to your soiled attire, you winked at Azriel. “I think I could use a bath, if you care to join me, mate.”

In a blink, Azriel had scooped you up bridal style, peppering kisses to your face while he raced to the bath. You laughed, clinging tightly to him as you looked forward to your life with the Spymaster.

[lilac-5ky]

Father's Day (Toji xFem!Reader)

Summary: It's father's day and you forgot to get Toji his gift.

Tags: dilf Toji, babysitter reader, secret relationship, age gap (reader early 20s, Toji early 30s), daddy kink, breeding kink, lactation kink, spanking, mating press, mention of doggy style, cumplay, blowjob, gagging, deep throating, creampie, heavy usage of pet names (baby, sweetheart, angel, slut, etc), soft!dom Toji being a condescending piece of shit, Megumi being an absolute angel, hope i'm not forgetting anything, pls don't murder me.

Word Count: 4.3k divided between fluff and smut.

“That’s it, Megs! You did so well today!” You smiled, giving the boy’s spikes a little affectionate ruffle. “I’m sure your dad will be so happy to see how hard you worked on his gift.”

“Liar.” Megumi put the glue stick face-down against the table. “It’s not as good as the ones you make, Y/N.”

“That’s because I’ve put years into it, you know? When you get older, I’m sure you’ll be the one teaching me.” You promised, holding his drawing toward the light.

The pasta on the paper depicted the face of a silly-looking man; chopped lasagna for his dark hair, spinach-flavored shells for his green eyes, penne for the jagged scar on his fusilli lips, and broken spaghetti to help frame the sharp edges of his chiseled jaw. The inscription “World’s Best Dad” was written at the bottom corner by yours truly, Megumi being too young to know the proper spelling.

Admittedly, it looked nothing like Toji, but even if you got the man himself to pose for your DIY project, you doubted you’d get any closer to capturing his charms. At least it resembled a human being, and that was the core difference between based on and loosely inspired by.

Megumi jumped from his stool and waved his hands before you, his fingers stuck together as if he were a duckling. You chuckled, meaning to settle the drawing on the table so you could escort him to the bathroom when you heard keys twisting in the door lock.

“Quick, go wash your hands and I’ll take care of your daddy, okay?”

Megumi nodded, dashing upstairs in seconds while you browsed the kitchen for a hiding spot, panicking as a couple of macaroni were chipped off. You grabbed the glue and hastily pieced them back in place, but it was too late. A pair of strong arms snaked around your waist, pressing you flush against an unmovable wall of muscle.

“T-Toji!”

Your yelp was silenced by his lips, hungry from having to spend an entire day filling forms and sorting mail at a work he despised with every inch of his being— some of those very inches poking against your ass as his hips bucked into yours almost possessively. Coming home to the cute little babysitter he’d made his girlfriend was everything he needed to recharge his batteries.

“Meg-gu…mi will see us,” you panted in between heated kisses, trying and mostly failing to defend your body from his greedy palms diving into your shorts.

He felt your skin flare up, so sensitive for him even after countless days of the same ritual. His index pried beneath your panties —the lacy ones he’d gotten you for your birthday— to meet with your pussy’s puffy lips, gliding across the gathering slick as if he meant to say “Hello”. His thumb rubbed a rough circle over your clit, giving the nub a few teasing flicks that were enough for you to arch your back against his chest, a hushed moan bitten into his neck. He chuckled to himself as he retracted his fingers and gingerly licked them one by one.

“Missed ya so much, angel,” Toji coed in a low voice. “Y’always taste sweeter when I’m not around, know that?”

You giggled against his mouth, his tongue eager to share your essence. “How would you know that if you’re away?”

“I just do,” he smiled, putting an end to the unforeseen display of affection with a gentle kiss on your cheek. “Where’s Megumi?” he searched through the space.

You moved in accordance with his eyes, swaying left and right to cover as much of the table as possible. “He’s in the bathroom. Washing his hands for dinner.”

Toji hummed, thumbing his tie loose around his neck. He could hate his job all he wanted, but nothing compared to the sight of seeing Fushiguro Toji in office attire. His sleeves were rolled around his elbows, toned biceps popping under the tight fabric of his white button-up. He paired straight black pants with a plain black belt— nothing impressive on its own until he bent over the lower cabinets to grab himself a glass, and you stole a quick peek at his rare and the impossible way the fabric hugged his—

In any case, you were convinced Toji had somehow missed Megumi’s drawing, his primary interest to fill and then refill his glass with fresh tap water. You seized the chance to transfer his gift to a safer location, though before you could take another step, he grabbed your wrist and forced your hand into play.

He studied his own face harder than your art professors evaluated your semester’s projects, his nose scrunching up at the finer details of his farfalle ears. “That why I pay your tuition for?” He snorted at you snatching the art piece from his hands.

“Better act excited when Megs comes here,” you straightened the creased edges and stored it in an empty drawer. “He’s already doubting his talent.”

“His what?”

He assured you he was just joking when you shot him a mean glare, your voice strict as you ushered him to follow his son’s example while you hurriedly collected the art supplies and replaced them with cutlery.

In no time, the three of you were seated around the table— Megumi on your lap while you cut his pork into bite-sized pieces, and Toji on the other side, wishing that their positions would switch. You swore this man got ten times handsier after you got together, seeking excuses to touch you even in front of his own kid. Megumi had just turned four but at this rate, it wouldn’t take long for such a bright kid to put two and two together.

The decision to keep it a secret was mutual (read: one vote for, and another against). There was no reason to disturb Megumi’s routine or throw him off balance. You’d grown fond of the little guy, and with his dad being away 2/3 of the day, you were each other’s only company. No matter how well things with Toji were going, if you suddenly fell apart, the one to hurt the most would be Megumi and you didn’t want that weight on your conscience. Being his number 1 nanny was good enough.

A certain type of silence familiar to the Fushiguro household shrouded dinnertime, with Toji trying to engage Megumi in small talk, and Megumi constantly glancing over his shoulder at you as if you were his designated spokesperson. “Yes, Megumi had a lot of fun today.” “Yes, Megumi ate all of his veggies at lunch, even the icky red peppers.” “No, Megumi knows nothing about the neighbor’s broken window.” The boy was relieved with every blatant lie you told his father, his knees gleefully flapping against your own.

By the time their plates were emptied, your food had gone completely cold, the oil in the curry sauce encasing the cutlet in a greasy coat. You gobbled it up as it was and stacked the plates into a pile that you placed in the sink, signaling for Megumi to come over. You handed him his drawing, encouraged him with two thumbs up, and sent him off to his “unsuspecting” father.

Your lips stretched into a smile as Megumi presented his drawing, mumbling a strained “Happy Father’s Day” under his breath as if he had a gun pointed at his head. So stubborn, though you could definitely see where he took it from, Toji’s reply being an equally stern “Thanks, kiddo”. You rolled your eyes and rushed to the scene, praising a blushing Megumi over his artwork and exaggerating his achievements to Toji who just wouldn’t take a hint. How these two managed to survive by themselves, was a wonder on its own.

Eventually, Toji gave his son a more fatherly rub on the back and hoisted the boy over his shoulders to lead him to his bedroom. Megumi squeaked, planting his tiny fingers into Toji’s hair, and clasped his legs tight around his neck. You remembered a meek confession from a few nights ago, muffled out by the covers and the plush toy over his mouth, as he let you in on how fun mounting his father was, feeling like a real mecha pilot atop his broad shoulders. He could be such a sweet kid when he wanted to. If only he was more vocal with Toji, too.

You watched the two disappear up the stairs and picked the drawing from the table, pinning it in the middle of the fridge for the world to see. You rinsed the pots with hot water and shoved them into the dishwater rack, figuring it’d be best to get as much work done as you could in Toji’s absence.

“This is the last one,” you said once the sound of feet thudding against the stairs became apparent.

You made quick work of the glass, rotating the sponge inside out, while the man leaned against the door frame without saying a thing, content with being a bystander to your impromptu clean-up session. Many a woman passed Toji’s threshold, some older, others younger, and yet you were the first to worry about the state of his bundle-bought glasses. He couldn’t pinpoint what made such a mundane sight endearing to behold, but maybe it was because of the very commonness and familiarity behind it that he hesitated to interrupt.

“Meg’s asleep?” You caught his reflection nodding through the glass, your following questions answered the same way.

“You got him in his pj’s? The blue, not the green ones, right? Got him to brush his teeth? Turned on the night light for him? Gave him his—”

A sigh echoed as he stepped into the space with his hands lost in his pockets. “How d’ya do that?”

“Do what?”

“The kid, the house,” he paused to measure his words, “me. How do you handle all that?”

Your lips pursed into an affectionate simper as you wiped your hands against the towel, looping it around the cabinet’s handle. You turned to face him and lifted your forefinger playfully. “One, the kid happens to have a very attractive father. Two, the house owner himself is sexy as hell, and you? I guess you are pretty easy on the eye.”

“Am I now?” His raspy tone was set on confirming every last impression you had of him, his tongue licking his slanted scar into a smile that was all but coy. “Which one you prefer then? The father, the house owner, or me?”

“Hmm, if I had to pick just one then,” your cheeks burned prior to your admission. “The version of you I get to call daddy.”

Satisfied with your answer, Toji pinched your chin between two fingers, admiring how eagerly your mouth popped open as the pad of his thumb swiped against your bottom lip, pushing slightly in. “Smart girl,” he cooed, feeling out the flat surface of your tongue, hot, warm, and oh-so-perfect when pressed against his cock.

“So what did you get me?” he smeared saliva over your lips, making them all nice and glossy. You stood still, faded eyes caught in the motion of his other palm shamelessly cupping your ass, his question barely registering.

“W-what?”

“Don’t ‘what’ me, you know exactly what I’m talkin’ about.” His fingers dug into the fat of your cheek, a warning in his voice. “Where’s my gift?”

“S-sorry, Toji. Didn’t think I had to—” A light smack cut your sentence in half, the recoil forcing you to drop onto his chest.

“Mm? What is it that y’are sorry for, princess?” He mocked, squeezing your bum against the growing bulge in his pants. Your cunt fluttered in response, clit whining at the little friction he provided. You wanted more. Wanted to feel all of him. The weight of his cock dragging between your folds and soaking in your juices before being plunged inside, every ridge and every line you’d memorized finding their rightful place in a hole that was meant for him.

You bit your lip in brewing anticipation, mustering the courage to look into his hooded green eyes that shared the same lust yours did. “Sorry I didn’t get you a gift, Toji. Should’ve known better.”

His smile softened, head cocking to the side. “Don’t sweat it. My pretty baby knows how to make it up to me, doesn’t she?”

You nodded, standing on your tiptoes to whisper in his ear, “How about I gave you a second reason to celebrate today?”

As soon as the words came out of your mouth, you were being lifted into the air, both of Toji’s hands finding purchase in your plushy thighs, while his lips begged to hush whatever mention of Megumi before it was even conceived. He kicked his bedroom door open and shut it with his heel, tossing you against the covers of his made-up bed. (“Why bother if they gonna crinkle anyway?”)

He lost his shirt almost as quickly as he lost his tie, flinging both fabrics over his shoulder. No matter how many times you got to lay eyes on his naked body, you always managed to spot a new scar on his chest from his former lifestyle, the danger it packed serving as an additive to the wanton fantasy of having your guts rearranged by your boss.

Your legs spread quite the sight for him as he tugged off your shorts, your panties sporting a sizable wet spot right at the center. He forced the drenched fabric into your slit, drawing it taut around your hip bone. You moaned softly, mindful of the kid across the hall, while your hips rocked forward, chasing after the finger he pulled away.

“Taking care of my kid ain’t enough for you? Wanna be a real mommy now?” Toji sneered, yanking the belt off his pants.

“I want us to be a real family,” you confessed, bowing to help him with the rest of his clothes. You slid his pants down his briefs and let them drop to his knees, your cheek nuzzling to his clothed cock. You licked a strip over the fabric, thrilled to hear a breath hitch in Toji’s throat. “Let’s give Megs a sibling. One that is half me, and” you paused, wrapping your lips around the imprint of his balls, “half you.”

His cock sprung free the moment you lowered his underwear, the way his fat tip glistened with precum enough to make your mouth water. You wrapped a fist around his length, fingers barely closing around his hefty base, and gave him a languid, thorough pump. He watched intently, keeping all sounds to himself until your lips parted to fit his cock head, stretching around his thick girth.

“Fuck, baby—” Toji hissed, helping your hair out of the way while your throat molded back into his shape. You were taught how to take as much of him in as possible, yet no matter how diligent you were in your practice, you could never fit him whole. You bobbed your head up and down, hand stroking the parts you couldn’t swallow and tongue pitching in the action with sparse kitten licks along his shaft.

His fingers firmly gripped onto your hair, forcing your head to pick up speed as they traveled from your scalp to the back of your head. Your gag reflex protested with each thrust, hot tears gradually pooling in your eyes while you struggled to keep them open.

“Look so fucking good chocking on my dick.” His voice oozed sweetness that matched his stare, a look of utter adoration fluttering behind his pretty eyelashes.

If he thought you were the one to look good, then he should’ve seen himself; messy obsidian strands casting shadows over his darkened eyes, his pink lips agape more often than closed with all the unregulated profanities and praise that spilled out of them, turning up in volume the closer he got to his climax.

You felt him twitch in your mouth, the salty tang drooling down your jaw along with your saliva, though just when you thought he was about to cum, he pulled out, the string of fluids following after him. “Don’t want any of that going to waste, do we?” Toji smirked, pumping his length once or twice before letting go altogether.

He hunched over your body, his knees making the bed dip lower as his lips sought yours, jaw too slack to properly reciprocate. Rough palms slid below your top and ran over your sides, his fingers unhooking your bra with unmatched expertise. He broke the kiss to let you remove your shirt, his hands quick to wrap around your tits and fondle their way toward your nipples. He pinched at them, rolling the peaks between his thumbs until they stiffened.

“Can’t wait for them to get all round and full,” Toji mumbled as he lowered his head to suck a nipple into his mouth, suckling so hard that he just might draw milk. He wet it with his tongue, and then turned to the other, repeating the same motion. “Gonna get me addicted if the taste’s half as sweet as your pussy.”

Your fingers clenched into fists around the sheets, the sheer imagery of Toji feasting on your breasts enough to make your legs go weak. He was keen on sharing his fantasies with you, down to every last insignificant detail, but not as keen as he was on fulfilling every single one of them, and this one, was just a matter of time.

“T-Toji,” you said in a breathy voice.

A sexy smirk plastered on his scarred lips as he detached from your nipple with a soft pop. He left your call unanswered, instead spreading your legs further apart and settling in between. You saw him stroke his cock, and soon you felt the leaking head tap on your clothed clit. Only then did he bother to look up, taking stock of the little whines and pretty moans you selfishly withheld.

He couldn’t wait for his next leave to take you someplace nice and quiet, where the sounds of you crying his name at full volume would come in abundance.

“P-please,” you begged, fidgeting a lot more than before.

“Please what?” he played dumb, rubbing his hard cock along your entrance. “Use your words, sweetheart.

“Please f-fuck,” your voice cracked, too frail to handle his games. “Please, fuck me.”

“Aren’t ya forgetting something?” his thin eyebrow questioned.

“Please fuck me, daddy.”

Toji smiled slyly to himself, obliging enough to peel the panties away from your twitching cunt. “Don’t want a warm-up first? My girl big enough to take me without any prep?” he asked in a condescending tone, matching every beat of his voice with another slap against your clit. “Or is she that eager to be a mommy? That’s it, right?” he chuckled, your moan not going unregistered.

“You’ve gotten so greedy, Y/N,” he said after a series of little tsks. “Bet you also gonna ask to be my wife soon, huh?”

The air was knocked out of your lungs for a brief, albeit painful second as Toji aligned with your entrance and rammed his cock halfway in, his overwhelming size felt first as a sting in your walls and later as a tremor across your entire body. Even with how wet you were, it still hurt a lot more than your horny self thought it would— though it wouldn’t take long for the pain to melt into pleasure.

You didn’t realize you’d screamed until he hushed you, bending forward to press a sweet peck against your lips. “I’ll take that as a yes,” he gave your thigh a reassuring squeeze and gathered your wobbly knees onto his brawny shoulders, refraining to move until you stopped wincing and contorting. “Stay relaxed for me, okay?”

You shook your head and pulled him into a tight embrace, loving the contrast of his hard pecs against your squishy breasts. “Want you close, Toji. Please.”

And how could he possibly refuse when his baby begged him so well?

Your nails began raking at his back as he sunk himself deeper and deeper, the position he’d bent you into making it seem as if there were no limits to how deep his cock could reach before it was buried to the hilt. He stretched you so good, stuffing your pussy full of ecstasy and your mind full of dick as he started to thrust at a steady pace, never deviating from sealing the whimpers in your mouth with sloppy kisses.

“Doing such a good job, angel. Must really want that baby, hah— can feel ya really open up for me.” A calloused hand slid between your bodies and pressed against the tiny bulge in your stomach, appearing and disappearing with each slam of his hips. “Feel that? That’s how deep you’ve taken daddy.”

He dragged his cock out and pounded it back in, his heavy balls slapping hard against your jiggly ass. His hand lowered over your clit, flicking the nub in sync with his frantic thrusts until the coiling tension in your guts snapped, a shuddering orgasm washing over him as much as it washed over you.

“Love you s-so much, Toji,” your fingers slipped onto his neck, gradually hiking up to cup his cheek.

Specks of light glimmered in his eyes as they held your loving stare, the scarred corner of his lip curling into a cocky smirk as if to defy him. “Yeah? Is it me that you love or my cock? Came into my house so I can fuck you g-good, ah?” he stuttered along with his hips. “All that money I gave ya to watch my kid goin’ to that tight-ass pussy?”

“Answer my question, slut,” he insisted.

Your brain was going blank on answers, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as his cock found all the right places, hitting every single spot that led into your fertile womb until you were back to writhing below him. “B-both, Toji, fuck love your cock so much ‘s fucking me so well.”

A hand moved over your dampened forehead, swiping your disheveled hair so he could plant a kiss. “Love you too, sweets.”

You felt yourself drowning in love as the squelching grew louder, the four-bedroom walls too thin to contain the sounds of hips snapping against hips and of his husky groans as he closed in on his high a second time. “Gonna fill ya up real good. Gonna—fuck, give my pretty baby all my babies,” Toji grunted, and you repeatedly nodded, cute little sobs severing the chants of his name.

Sharp teeth dug into your neck as Toji buried himself in the crook of your shoulder, his sultry moans reverberating against your skin until they hit their crescendo when his cock began to throb, painting your walls with thick ropes of his creamy load. He slowed down, luscious thrusts shoving his cum further in while you held him close, snaring your legs around his torso.

When he finally lifted his head, you’d both regained a sliver of composure, your pants falling back into rhythm.

“You’ll be such a good mama,” he murmured, his voice silky smooth over the shrewd ringing in your ears.

“Think so?” Your lips stretched into a faint smile that he was quick to kiss.

“You already are the better parent. Kid likes you most. Bust my balls when you have your tests and needa study.”

You chuckled, tracing the outline of his scar with your thumb. “Why do I get the feeling it’s the other way around, hmm?”

A tsk twisted his lips into a scoff as he bit onto your finger. “Ouch! What was that f—”

Your voice faltered as he spun you around; face shoved into the pillows and back forced into an arch while Toji positioned himself behind your ass and dragged his cock between your swollen red folds.

“Don’t tell me you thought we were done here.”

The next morning found all three of you at the starting point of last night’s exploits, Toji sipping on a cup of black coffee and scrolling on his phone, while Megumi quietly sat beside him on the kitchen table, awaiting his breakfast to be served. Your body felt sore all over while you grilled his salmon, sand in the corners of your eyes. Normally, you’d be trying to keep everyone entertained with idle chit-chat, but with how often you yawned, getting a word out demanded serious effort— effort you weren’t prepared to put in.

“Say, Megumi.” Toji took the reins, setting his phone down. “How would you feel about having a new mommy?”

The spatula almost fell into the pan, your objection stifled by Megumi’s voice. “I don’t mind.”

“You don’t?” Toji cocked his head curiously, propping his chin onto his palm. “Then ya wouldn’t mind if it was someone you knew?”

“Mister Fushiguro, could you please help me with the fish a bit—” you pleaded through gritted teeth, only to be dismissed with a swift gesture as if you were a housefly.

“I don’t mind having a new mommy, but I don’t want to be a brother,” he declared, stomping his fork against the wood for emphasis. “Never!”

You glanced over your shoulder, first at Toji and then at Megumi, before serving the fish on a plate and kneeling in front of the child. “Why is that, Megs? Don’t you wanna be a big brother to a little sister or a little brother?”

His eyes stubbornly refused to meet with yours, all the while they shot daggers at his father. “Don’t want one if it hurts to make.”

You chuckled, tapping at his knee gently. “What are you talking about?”

“I heard you cry last night,” Megumi admitted. “Dad hurt you, didn’t he?”

“That’s not what—”

Toji smirked as he spread his legs apart, preparing himself for the show. “Kinda late for that, buddy. And don’t worry about Y/N. Adults can cry from pleasure, too—”

“Toji!”

And thus, your little house of cards fell apart.

[anantaru]

GENSHIN + YOU‘RE MINE, MINE ALONE

— ꒰ including ꒱ — cyno, heizou, diluc, xiao, childe x fem! reader

— ꒰ warnings ꒱ — [ex]plicit, they're clingy, a lil messy

— ꒰ CYNO ꒱

underneath your body, you feel nothing but cyno's trace, his touch, his warm hands softly scattered across your thighs.

be no mistake, he sought after taking the lead, but wouldn't deny you whenever you urged him to be the one in control for one. "keep still, sweet general." you coo and he listens, his cheeks being plucked within a snug enfold, taking pleasure in your well thought out nickname.

"s-say that again." he's muttering under the shadow of his heavy breathing, "call me that again." a sparse swell of pride brewed in you as he revealed his request.

you, on the other hand, spared no effort to fasten your hips on him, your sweet cunt restlessly working back and forth, back and forth, until you reached both your orgasm and his release.

"my general." you're breathless, poking fun at the way cyno would throb whenever you'd address him in that precise manner, how he'd massage your mushy walls a little better, would rub his imposing girth into you and you could feel it all, each rill and curve.

"y-yeah." a raspy tone greets you from underneath when his eyes closed to wholly concentrate in making you feel good and satisfied, even though he had promised he wouldn't interfere, it was now exceptionally more difficult to keep himself in check.

not when you began to tense your muscles whenever he sank into your hotness to the hilt.

you're lowering your body to be flushed on his chest when he had abruptly bottomed out, targeting the deepest ends of your spongy insides.

you feel nothing other than your sensitive nerves being hit by his restless hips smacking in and out, your little pussy helplessly grinding down and searching for more friction, sloppily smearing your own slick over his lower region as it began to seem like it wasn't you who was in charge after all.

— ꒰ HEIZOU ꒱

heizou carefully adjusted himself behind you, a teeny tiny bit closer, idly pulling you towards his hips so your squishy behind would clumsily bump into his agonizingly erected cock.

"fuck, baby." he's setting his hands free around your hips, "you missed me, right? don't deny it."

the fact you didn't even have to turn around once to discern the filthy smirk smoothed down on his pretty lips said a lot about how good you knew your boyfriend.

"p-please heizou." to get your point across you began to wiggle yourself further into his cock which was now resting in front your tense hole, being tapped and prodded on, "now- i need you now."

once he hears you whine it's over, or beg that is, what about a combination of both? heaven.

"there— take it." and once now, he's shifting the mattress underneath him while carefully drawing you close in combination with digging himself past the flesh of your heat, your swollen pussy glistering when he rolled into you.

heizou made sure to bury every last inch of his length, have you feel it all over your walls, as if he was gradually claiming you from the very inside, liquifying his overturning touch on you.

"ah-" considering the fact you've done it multiple times over the course of your relationship, he felt especially hard in you tonight, warm and rigid when he continued to rub his tip over the prickling splotches in your gummy walls.

your arms were starting to strain from keeping your body on all fours and at the very last you plopped onto your elbows, still having your pussy open and wet for him to suitably use you, make love to you.

as patient as you were beforehand, you now couldn't help it but ceaselessly knock your ass back on his

at the impact, heizou fell right onto your back and licked from your spine up to your shoulder, feeling you more clear, the close proximity fastening each breath you inhaled.

— ꒰ DILUC ꒱

"d-diluc, feels good." you babble into the warm room while delving your fingers into diluc's scarlet hair, selfishly crushing your pussy over his swollen lips, leaving his tongue to do all the work.

you taste pleasant, like saccharine, a little bitter but it only adds to your delightful scent. Diluc loves it, loves you, how you're wrapping your legs around his head, securing them closer while riding his tongue.

you noticed the sloppy sounds, or how his wet muscle continued to scrabbled into your puffy folds and digging past the flesh, assembling your compelling slick across his mouth.

maybe, you were selfish after all, how you had used diluc all night for your own benefits— but it's not your fault! he's way too good at this, not to mention skilled, he's reaching the places you were never aware anyone could poke and pat on in the first place.

your fist grabbed a handful of his hair and that's what brought him over, what had him moan into your pussy without an utter shame left in his boiling veins, "a-again." he's uttering from underneath.

"again, please— again."

you're crying at the vibrations he managed to set free, how they howled over your entire body and grasped at your senses, the overstimulating waves pistoling into your sweet cunt when you do as he says, graze him with another harsh tug of his hair, wiping yet another raspy groan off his throat.

the noises he made were almost as mesmerizing as his tongue, the twisting coil in your stomach forming into a painful ache as you continued to thrust into his mouth, faster than before, charging towards your delightful release.

— ꒰ XIAO ꒱

if you were to describe how xiao handled you, how he worshipped your body, it was to be something in between a dreamlike sensation and a lulling musing.

he'd never hurt you.

xiao would always make sure of it and if he had to ask a lot more than three times, the last thing he'd want to achieve was to actually making his enchanting darling to feel pain, asides of him being the culprit in question.

"how do I feel?" it made you flustered whenever he'd ask you, because xiao did not perceive those things as embarrassing nor unspeakable, he needed to know each emotion and touch, if he's too fast, too slow or maybe too rough?

"you— you feel amazing xiao." you squeal into his shoulder, "always," you're spreading your legs a bit further so he could accurately huddle himself in between when he continued to rut his stiff cock into you, in and out, inch by inch and he took his time to make you feel it all.

you discerned the bigger vein on the underside of his length, how he had gotten a bit more drenched in your slick and the way he was leaking of his pre.

xiao appeared impatient in his mannerism, in any other occasion his strokes were slow but deep, yet now they were fast and uneven, sloppy and hungry, as if he couldn't wait to cum all over you, or maybe you'll allow him to finish inside for once.

his size was remarkable yet he wasn't aware of that fact, though when he made you scream his name it was clear on how good he made you feel and enjoy yourself.

you swiftly gathered your fingers downright to fiercely rub your clit while xiao rested both hands next to your head— as to cage you in, ferociously fucking into you with an everlasting pace, his tattoos brilliantly shining underneath the dimly lid room.

at this point, your cunt was soiled with his cum, your hands picking up on pace and archons, it was so disgustingly hot, so fucking good how he stretched you wide open, your spine arching into his body.

you could never keep your sounds in from how he handled you, being aware that xiao needed to hear you praise him, promising that he's doing such a great job for you.

— ꒰ CHILDE ꒱

whether it was pinching your little clit, slapping your wet folds or delicately tapping at your hole with his rough finger pads, childe always had his precise ways of handling you in a (in his eyes) proper manner.

they were somehow typical for him and reflected on how he was in many aspects in life.

he‘s not hesitating to sloppily kiss you while his fingers were busy playing with your cunt, splitting your poor hole as you gushed around his digits, swallowing him knuckles deep.

"there you go baby." his voice caused you to jolt, it ran down your ears like honey, so smooth and hard to tell if he was being actually sincere or battering something ulterior behind his pick of words.

the torture on your clit felt endless, childe would fill your hole and spit on your cunt— but then savagely drag himself out to knead his pads over your clit, gently pinching your nerves— not too much pressure of course, he‘s aware it‘s not pleasurable if he‘s too rough.

your jaw was slacked, silent cries, sounds but you do not speak clearly, nothing had ever truly compared on how he fondled your pussy so expertly— your spongy walls tasting his blowing touch when he curled up to dig himself into your prickling spot, the one that had you moan out the filthiest of noises towards him.

you‘re extremely sensitive and rob all his free movements away when your thighs tightly squish around his arm, swaying while he‘s being back with mercilessly thrusting into your cunt.

"i could do this all day." he admits, brazenly, "you‘re so cute." maybe it was your worn out face, your slicked up pussy or his hands being drenched in your filth what made him say this.

you couldn't remember the last time you felt this way— so exposed how you were while he was working his fingers on you, delving his digits over your walls, please deeper, and rubbing onto the velvety skin.

so open and to be taken by him, soon— because right now, childe preferred to fuck your sobbing pussy with his slender fingers.

he clearly sees it, how it‘s igniting something in you, something mouth watering. Childe was ware of your limits but he didn‘t approach them yet, but he might soon.

©2023 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate

[nsharks]

bleeding blue | apocalypse au

part twelve —other parts

pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x fem!reader words: 3k tags: *hint at sexual assault. please be cautious!* death. blood. cannibalism mention. zombies of course. AFAB reader. single dad ghost. there will be sex but it isn't here yet. slow burn!!! enemies to lovers. summary: After losing your companions, you run into a skull-masked man and his daughter. They are your last hope for survival.

Dense mud packs onto the soles of your boots. You shift the near-empty backpack on your shoulder and slip back a few sweat-laced strands of hair from your face. Never before were you a morning person. In fact, you used to purposely sign up for all the afternoon lectures in uni. But now, time and sunlight are precious. You set out to search for the camp this morning with only a sliver of sunrise as your companion. 

You hope Ghost was right.

He suspected that their camp would be situated in a location with easy access to the military base, river, and nearby village so they could draw resources from all three. So that's the direction you're headed in, squinting at nearby landmarks and interstate signs to help guide you. It's quite the hike: grueling, hilly terrain and moist air that you can't distinguish from your own sweat. You've stepped over some interesting sights along the way. An old forest station with CAMP FEES and LEAVE NO TRACE posters still outside. A small skeleton tucked in a bush with only child-sized rainboots left on it. For a moment, you saw Joseph. Toddling around in the puddles outside your sister’s house. You had to force yourself not to look at it for too long; you wiped your eyes, gritted your teeth, and prayed it had been painless for them.

You come to a narrow creek, crossing over a stone bridge that spits you out among dense evergreens. Finally, a faint column of smoke comes into view just above the forest's canopy. 

That must be it.

It's certainly a sign, so you suck in a shaky breath, ignore the rush of blood in your veins, and do what Ghost suggested: climb a tree to get a better look. 

There was a time not long ago when climbing trees was your only means of survival. This time, it feels so much easier to hoist yourself up and grip the bark as your muscles flex to steady yourself on a high branch. Luckily, there wasn't much to bring in the backpack Ghost gave you. For now, there's nothing in it other than your lighter, a roll of gauze, that romance book, and a small piece of dry wood. 

Squinting your gaze, you make out the silhouette of triangular, orange tents and uneven fencing. Definitely a camp. The fence doesn't appear barbed from here, but it's at least a meter higher than the one that surrounds Ghost's place. You're close enough to see a few blue crates in the center that look like those ones from the military medical site. Is that what they're keeping the supplies in? It seems like the only obvious place based on the layout.

What you really want to know is how many people. Soundlessly, you shift your boots to get a different angle and finally spot movement coming out of one of the tents— a sizeable male wearing a leather jacket.

One.

Is that it?

Your eyes stay locked on the stranger for a minute, tracking his movement as he cooks something over the fire. He gives out a long whistle, the high-pitched sound audible even from where you stand nestled in the treetop. Panic seizes your breath: did he somehow see you and is alerting someone else? But no— you're much too far, and his eyes never shifted in your direction. 

Instead, there's more movement, the faint shuffling of paws on the ground, and then a large dog appears at the man's side. He tosses something in front of it, what must be a slab of meat, because the dog is quick to start chowing down with the enthusiasm of a mindless Grey.

"Fuck me," you whisper to yourself, fingertips splintering against the bark. "Couldn't prepare me for that, huh, Ghost?"

The plan he instructed you with is fairly simple and straightforward— you'll just have to stick to it and be mindful of the additional obstacle. You've survived much worse even just a few days ago, so with that in mind, you slip down the column of the tree and purposefully backtrack your steps, gaining a bit more distance between you and the camp. 

You need a ruse, something to draw the man out for enough time for you to grab the ammo. Ghost told you to bring the book to help get a fire started since the twigs and leaves here are damp after the storm, so you find a good spot and start ripping out the pages, crumpling them up. You arrange the piece of wood and paper in such a way that you have a minute or two before the smoke really gets going. You pull out your lighter from the pocket of your jeans, start it, and then head back towards the camp, this time going around so you can approach it from the side. 

You keep your footsteps as light as possible while moving quickly. Once the man notices the smoke and leaves to scout it out, your timer starts. There's another whistle followed by a gravelly bark from the dog. You sneak close to the side of the fence, pausing behind a tree, just when you catch a glance of the stranger shucking a rifle over his shoulder and exiting out the gate. He shuts it behind him with a series of padlocks.

It won't take him long to find the source of the smoke and realize it's nothing, so you muster all your strength and begin climbing the fence, rusty links digging into your palms. You try to do it without making much noise, but the moment you jump down with a thud, the dog's head snaps in your direction. It begins to growl, flashing thick canines under its bloodied muzzle. You break out into a sprint toward the blue crates, but it crosses the span of the camp in mere seconds, clamping down on your forearm before you can even begin to look for the ammo.

The pain is white hot. You silently cry out as the dog shakes its head, tearing through the fabric of your coat and the tissue of your muscle. 

"Fuck."

You tug at your arm, but it doesn't let go. Remembering the piece of squirrel meat you brought as a snack, you dig it from your pocket and wag it in front of the dog's face.

"Come on, let go— please."

It's enough to catch his attention, the bite on your arm loosening once you toss the meat a few meters away and he follows it. You clutch your arm with a ragged breath, ignoring the blood and pain that radiates from it.

The squirrel can only distract him for so long, so you urgently flip open the lid of the first crate. Staring back at you is a mix of what appears to be severed limbs and various animal parts. The pungent smell floods up your nose. You instantly clamp the lid back down, fighting the urge to vomit, and move on to the next one. 

Ammo.

Plenty of it.

Without a second to waste, you sling off the backpack and begin stuffing it with the cardboard packs of cartridges, hoping it's the kind Ghost needs. When you tug the zipper closed, a decision pops into your brain: to keep looking through the other crates for medicine, or to get the fuck out of there. You take a millisecond too long to think about it because suddenly, you notice the dog from the corner of your eye, done with the meat and moving towards you with another throaty growl. 

You tug the heavy backpack on and make a beeline for the closest side of the fence. In the panic, you fail to notice the creak of the gate opening until you are stumbling into a hard chest. A strong hand wraps around your bicep.

Fuck.

He's back.

This is it, then.

"Rocky— sit."

The growling behind you ceases. A whole new fear washes over you as you blink up at a rugged face. The stranger uses his other hand to take hold of your jaw, hard enough that your teeth are forced to grind together. In a heart-pounding silence, he inspects you, bluntly looking you up and down. Then, he takes out a knife and presses it to your neck. Your throat bobs against the icy metal. 

"Fucking bitch," he mutters. "Start a fire to try and steal from me?"

"N-no!" Your brain reels for a lie. "No— I don't know what you're talking about. I-I came here looking for help."

"Try a better lie, sweetheart." 

"I mean it," you stammer, holding onto the fact that he hasn't slit your throat yet. Raw desperation speaks for you. "My… my friends are gone. Someone attacked us a few days ago and killed them. I've been alone ever since and then I found your camp, hoping someone would be here to help me."

This seems to grab his attention. Dark eyes narrow. It's now you realize he's quite young, maybe in his thirties.

"Someone attacked you, huh? Who?"

"Um, some guy. I don't know. I didn't get a good look at him because he was… he was wearing a mask."

"So some guy killed all your friends by himself?" When you slowly nod, cringing at your terrible story, his jaw flexes. "I've lost my friends, too. They went out on a hunting trip three days ago and haven't come back."

"Oh. I'm sorry," you lie, swallowing. "So you… so you believe me?"

"I believe your friends are dead. I don't believe you didn't start that fire to distract me."

His words make your heart race. Again, his eyes trail down, and the knife follows, lowering to the floral fabric of your blouse and popping open one of the buttons. 

"Take it off," he suddenly orders. 

"W-what?"

"The shirt. Take it off. Let me decide if I should kill you or keep you."

You put on a brave face and do as he says, not given much room to protest despite the sick feeling that twists your gut. You drop the backpack, half-inclined to swing it at him, but then what? There is no way you can take him in a fight, especially since he's armed with a knife and gun, and there is no Grey this time to help you out. 

The coat falls to the ground at your feet before you shakily undo the buttons of your blouse, wincing from the movement of your bitten arm. Crisp air greets your bare skin. Your nipples tighten uncomfortably and his gaze darts right to them, intensifying the churn in your stomach. 

He gives a low whistle. "Lucky me."

Your nails jab crescents into the palms of your hands. "Am I… am I worth keeping, then?"

He bears a sick, toothy smile. "Pretty for a thief," he confirms. "Haven't seen someone so pretty in a few years now." His eyes flash to your arm and he reaches to grab it, making you choke. "Hell, Rocky. You gave her an ugly bite, though. Might get in the way of what I have in mind for you."

Half-naked, you are dragged by the arm to one of the blue crates. He slips the knife into his pocket in order to search through it. You notice pills, liquids, and a single glass bottle of what appears to be clear alcohol, which he pulls out along with a cloth.

"Tell me your name," he says, forcing you to sit down on a folding chair. "Before I enjoy you.”

You tell him quietly.

With an eery gentleness, he sits across from you and dabs the bite with some alcohol. The sting is immeasurable, but you roll your eyes to the sky and silence yourself. The feel of his cold, calloused fingers makes you imagine how they would feel touching other parts of your body. You need to think of something quick before he gets the chance to. He still has the gun on him, and the only knife you brought is in the jacket on the ground. Your eyes flicker to the bottle, which he set down by the leg of his chair.

"What's your name?" you ask, looking back at him.

"Leo."

"So, um, Leo— how did you end up here?"

"I was a new recruit in the military when shit started five years ago," he explains idly, fixated on your arm. "Stationed at the base nearby."

"I saw medical tents there," you mutter, clearing your throat. "Did you help with that?"

He chuckles. "For all of a day until some buddies and I decided to take what we could and leave. There was no point in trying to help people. We figured that out pretty quick."

"Oh. Were those the buddies who haven't come back?" 

He nods. "I'm sure they're dead by now. But, one good thing is," he reaches for the gauze, sniggering lowly, "—that means I don't have to share you."

As he begins to unwrap the gauze, you decide he’s distracted enough. It happens in one, urgent motion. You clasp the alcohol bottle by the neck, arch it above his head, and thrust it down. The glass shatters, drenching him with alcohol and blood as a piece slices open his forehead. He immediately drops the gauze and hisses in pain.

"Bitch," he snarls. "I'm going to fucking kill you!"

He leaps to his feet and pulls the knife out again. As he does, you dig the lighter out of your pocket and ignite a flame, bringing it to his soaked shoulder. Instantly, fire flashes up his neck and face in hues of orange and blue, even catching your wet fingertips. It renders him blind as he howls and tries to swing at you, but you immediately run away, rubbing your burned hand against your jeans.

You grab your discarded clothes and backpack before flinging open the crate with medicine in it. You begin stuffing as many bottles into the side pockets of the backpack as you can, breathing frantically.

"I'm going to kill you," he seethes again, and the firing of a bullet somewhere behind you means he must have grabbed his rifle.

But he still can't see, his eyes blistered by the flames that continue to lick his face. Each shot bites the ground as you heave the backpack on your shoulders and take off toward the fence.

The dog barks, louder and louder as he runs after you. You don't look back. You wad your clothes up in a ball and toss them over the fence to free up your hands. Then, you quickly climb up, the muscles in your face tightly clenched as the full backpack weighs you down. 

You're too slow. 

Teeth grab hold of your boot.

You're pulled back down, hands spreading out to break the fall. 

In the mud, you wrestle beneath a snarling jaw, dirtying up your hair and exposed skin. This time, you don't hesitate to hurt the animal. You grab your lighter again and thrust the flame into the dog's eye, making it leap back with a pained squeal. 

Freed, you scramble back up the fence.

You leap down. Grab your clothes

You can still hear him shouting as you run away, weaving through the thicket of trees. Only when the sound fades do you stop to catch your breath, sinking down against a tree and putting your clothes back on.

"Here."

A moan of relief escapes your lips the moment you shrug off the backpack and drop it at Ghost's feet. He crouches down, swearing under his breath when he unzips it and the ammo practically spills out. He grabs a few boxes, opening and inspecting them under the violet light of sunset. The walk back took you hours longer. You were almost tempted to sleep in a tree for the night, but the threat of Greys or any more strangers kept you going. 

"Good. This is good, Twix." There's a hint of disbelief in his voice before he clears it away, zipping the backpack up. He stands and offers a lengthy look from your head to your boots. "How many were there?"

"Just one."

"Just one," he repeats, brow lifting. "And you look this roughed up. What happened?"

"There was a dog," you say dully, lifting your arm up to show him the bitemark in your sleeve. Beneath it, you already bandaged the wound, not wanting to draw attention to its scent. “Just a dog and a cannibal rapist guy."

"What?"

You shake your head. "Nothing. I'm going to sleep."

Before you can take a step past him, warm fingers latch onto your wrist. So warm. You inhale a breath, a burn of moisture lining your eyes.

“Please don’t touch me," you request in a harsher whisper than you intend.

You can no longer see the details of him with how bleary your eyes are, but you feel his touch disappear.

"What happened?" he asks again, voice lowering.

"Nothing. I got your ammo and I handled it. When can we leave?"

There is a pause before he responds as if he is debating whether or not to drop the subject. For now, he does.

"Tomorrow, hopefully."

"Good." The back of your hand smooths over your eyes. "Don't— don't forget our deal, Ghost. Promise me."

A firm nod. "I don't back out on my word."

As if to prove it, he shucks off the jacket and hands it over.

[barefoothighlander]

septem peccata mortalia - lust

simon ‘ghost’ riley x fem!reader

warnings: mdni (18+), sex pollen, cnc, unprotected pinv, overstimulation, multiple orgasm, creampie, biting, mention of blood, bit of anal fingering, praise, dacryphilia

masterlist

“Mantis, I don’t have eyes on that field”

Ghost's voice warns you through the device in your ear, your mind flipping between options, you’re target had run straight ahead, you could see him weaving around the tall grass, navigating holes in the dirt as you moved closer.

“He’s in my sights Ghost”

“Do not engage without backup”

You can hear the wind passing through his mic, he’s chasing behind you but you can’t tell how far, there’s already too much distance between you and the target.

“Negative, I’m going after him”

The plants graze against your skin as you move through them, brushing against your legs as you leave a trail of footprints in the mud. You can hear Ghost's voice in your ear yelling at you, but the blood pumping in your veins is too loud, carrying you closer to the man.

It catches you by surprise, the lack of air flowing to your lungs, you’ve trained for situations worse than this, you should be able to run less than a few miles before even feeling the slightest bit tired, yet your skin was dripping with sweat, your head on fire as your legs grow heavier.

“Ghost, somethings wrong”

“Fall back Mantis”

“I can’t, he’s right there”

You huff your breaths, moving your legs as fast as they’ll go as you try to catch up to the target until all of a sudden your skin feels like it’s on fire, every hair on your body standing on end like someone lit a match to your flesh.

“Mantis, where are you”

“Field, red flowers” It’s all you can manage through strangled gasps for air, your hand clutching your chest in an attempt to soothe the ache.

You give up, your body drained of its energy as you watch the target move further away, the anger of defeat settling into your body as you collapse to the ground, your knees digging into the mud as your body sinks lower.

You can hear him in your ear, his voice echoing as he draws closer to you, there’s panic behind his voice, a real worry about you.

“Mantis, do you copy, are you alright?”

“Hurts”

His body sinks beside yours, nervous hands ghosting over your form as his eyes scan your body.

“Where, did he hit you”

“No”

“What happened?” His eyes dart from your head to your feet, noting the way your chest heaves with every breath. “There’s no blood, what’s wrong”

“Hurts so much”

You squeeze your eyes shut, shifting your hips, trying to do anything to calm the ache in your muscles as your skin feels like it’s being burned.

“Okay, okay c’mon”

His arms scoop under your form, lifting you and keeping you pressed against him, his scent flooding your senses as you rest your cheek to his chest, your body moving with every step he takes.

He moves from the field, searching the terrain as his eyes land on a circle of large trees, placing you down to rest against the trunk of one.

“We need evac, somethings wrong with Mantis”

“Ghost, please, it hurts”

“What hurts, tell me so I can help”

You can’t find the words to describe the sparks in your lower stomach, your face flush as you come to terms with having to beg your Lieutenant to fuck you.

“Need you Ghost”

“Need me to what? Stay focused Sargent”

Your mouth dries as you try to form the words, heavy eyes gazing at his, the dark pupils staring back at you behind the mask.

“Need you, to fuck me”

It was like every synapse in his brain fired at once, combining confusion and desire, the words he’d longed to hear for so long escaping your lips but under the worst circumstances possible.

His hands plant on the sides of your head, tilting it and checking your pupils, he was sure you must’ve sustained some sort of head injury, your eyes blown out and your skin searing to the touch.

“Ghost, Simon, please”

“Is that what hurts?”

You nod weakly, adjusting your body for some kind of friction, his knee bend between your legs as he holds you still. Arching your hips your grind your core against his clothed thigh, nerves shooting up your spine at the contact, weak moans falling from your lips.

If he thought you were playing some kind of joke before, he was sure you were serious, watching you grind against his leg, your chest rising as your head falls back against the tree. He can feel the warmth from your core through your clothes, radiating against his thigh, feeling his pants grow tighter with each second.

“Does that feel good?”

His brain flips a switch, too consumed with the sight of you using him to get yourself off to be concerned with anything else, he’s dreamed about your noises, the way your face would scrunch as you fell apart under his touch, but now you were using him for your pleasure, he wanted to help.

“Keep doing that, harder”

You press your down harder against his thigh, the seam of your pants rubbing against your swollen clit as he watches you. He rocks his leg slightly, following your rhythm as your arousal seeps through your pants, leaving a wet spot between your thighs, making his cock twitch.

“Just like that, keep going love”

He presses his leg firm against your core, applying the right amount of pressure as you chase your high, hips circling as your chest blossoms, muscles tightening as your orgasm takes over your body.

He helps you ride your high out, moving his knee back and forth to allow you to come down slowly, his cock now painfully hard under his pants as you slump back.

“Feel better?”

“Need more, please”

His hands make their way under you, shifting your body to lay flat on the ground as he moves to sit between your legs, large hands working quickly to undo your pants, wasting no time in dipping below your underwear and gliding his digits through your folds.

He lets out a groan as his fingers collect your slick, smearing it around your cunt as you whimper, he grabs your legs, pulling them to his chest and takes off your pants, leaning over to bunch them under your head, providing some sort of protection from the elements as he pushes two fingers into you, feeling the way your pussy clamps down on him.

He pumps two digits into you, gliding them easily along your walls as his thumb rubs circles over your sensitive bud.

“That feel good? My fingers fucking you?”

You respond with a moan, hands reaching for his and moving them under your shirt, urging him to touch you. He rolls your nipple between his fingers, pinching the bud eliciting a yelp from you as your hips rock in time with his movements, your skin drenched in sweat as he works you toward your second high.

“Cum for me love, soak my hand”

Your mouth falls open, drunken moans escaping as his fingers knead your breasts,

“So beautiful, c’mon want to feel you cum”

His words send you over the edge, your pussy squeezing his fingers as your orgasm tears through your body, back arching from the ground, pressing your body further onto his fingers as you cum.

“That’s it, such a good girl”

He pulls his fingers from you, leaving an empty feeling in your chest,

“Better?”

Tears prick the corners of your eyes as you shake your head, “More Ghost, please, need more”

“Alright love, I’ll give you what you need”

He watches drops of tears stream down tour cheeks, salty trails left over your flushed skin, he’d never seen someone so worked up he almost pitied you.

He could lie and say he was simply doing it for your benefit, to help you with your situation but he knew he couldn’t control himself, every dream that had him waking in a sweat for the past few months, the reminder of how the tips of his ears would turn pink when you’d lean over a desk or bend down to grab something, he’d never felt desire for someone like this, like he’d be at your beck and call every hour of the day, willing to do whatever you wanted as long as it meant he could feel you.

Every fibre of his being burned for you, almost as brightly as yours did at that moment, he had so many thoughts about what he’d do when he finally got you naked, but this, right now, was about you.

You bite your lower lip as he rigs his pants lower, the tip of his cock red and dripping as it springs free, a slight sense of panic as your eyes take in the size of him but the way your core aches for him drowns out any sense of doubt.

He drags his tip through your folds, stifling a groan as your slick coats him, his hand pressed firmly to your waist as you lock your legs around him.

“Don’t tease” You huff

“M’not gonna last long”

You reach up, grabbing the top of his tactical vest as you pull his face to yours, soft eyes and wet cheeks inches from his face, he wants to stay like this forever, his thumb tuning gently over the tears on your skin, collecting them before he places the digit on your lower lip.

You open your mouth, allowing him to push his thumb in, swirling your tongue around the digit, the salt on his skin mixing with your saliva.

His thumb holds your jaw open as he pushes his cock in, stretching you around his length as moans erupt from your throat, your fingers grip his vest holding him near you, letting his scent and sounds drown you as his cock stuffs you full.

He drags his length along your walls, allowing you a moment to adjust before you tug him to face you.

“Need it hard, please”

Without missing a beat he plunges his full length into you, his tip jamming into your cervix with every thrust as you arch into him, your heels digging into his back, driving him into you.

“Thought about this for so long, so goddamn perfect”

You tilt your chin to the sky, your body jolting with every thrust as he leans down, fingers pulling his mask to reveal his lips as they connect with your collar bone, neck, chest, anywhere he could reach he was trailing kisses.

“Touch yourself love”

You do as he says, snaking a hand between your bodies to trace over your clit, eyes squeezing shut at the stimulation as they well up.

“Just like that, doing so well”

Weak digits work your bud, lazy circles out of time with his thrusts, your band in your stomach slowly stretching but it’s not enough.

“More Ghost, need more”

He stops his movements for a minute, a single digit moving to part your lips, pushing in and exploring your mouth as you whimper around it.

He pulls his finger out with a pop, his cock still inside you as his other hand grabs your leg, flipping your body and tugging you up to your knees.

He teases the wet finger around your other hole, his cock twitching inside you as you arch your back for him, pushing your hips back to allow him access.

Slowly he pushes in, thrusting his length slightly as he reaches the first knuckle, listening to your noises.

“This what you need pretty girl both holes filled?”

“Yes, please, fuck me”

He pushes the finger deeper, watching your hole swallow the digit as he pumps his cock into you, slowly he pulls his finger, pushing it back in, allowing you to adjust before moving in time with his thrusts.

You’re stuffed to the brim with his cock while his finger works you open, your slick dripping from your core to coat your legs as his hips collide with your ass, using the last bit of your strength to steady yourself in the dirt.

“Want you to cum in me, please, need to feel you”

His balls tighten at the thought,

“Fuck, cum for me love, one more, squeeze my cock with your little pussy”

Your body melts into putty, every inch of skin slick with sweat as you turn your head to face him, watery eyes staring as he locks eyes with you, his lips are still visible, a piece of him you’d never seen before.

In a burst of strength you pull off him, turning your body and shoving him back as you climb onto his lap, weak hands on his shoulders as you sink down on his cock, leaning in to connect your lips. You bare your teeth into his lower lip, stifling the moan from your throat as his hands grip your waist, tugging you up and down his cock as he digs his heels into the dirt, thrusting his hips to meet yours, his cock slamming into you with brutal force.

You taste metal in your mouth, pulling back a drip of blood falls from his lips, mixing with the saliva that strings you two together, everything is too much, his hands holding you against him as he fucks you from below, his scent drowning your senses as his taste lingers on your tongue, it takes over your body.

You cum with a sob, your arms clinging to him as your body becomes putty, with one arm he tugs you against him, holding you down on his cock as his hips twitch, free hand grabbing your jaw to face him, his eyes softening as they glance as your wrecked form, puffy skin stained with your cries.

You watch his jaw tense as his grip tightens, his cock buried in you as his cum floods your walls, filling you with his seed while he stares into your eyes.

You fall against him, your head nestled into his shoulder as your nerves finally calm, your limbs numb on his form as he holds you, small kisses placed to your sticky skin.

“You’re alright love, did so well”

Your tears soak the shoulder on his uniform, leaving a patch of dark fabric as he helps you up, holding you to keep you steady, he helps you to tug on your pants, letting them fall loosely on your hips to avoid any contact with your pussy.

He scoops your body up before you have the chance to stumble, holding you to his chest as he moves, keeping his eyes on you instead of the terrain, more concerned with your well-being than anything else.

“It’ll be alright, I’ll get you home”

The time spent in the helicopter is a blur, the noises all meshing into one high pitched ring that didn’t subside until you fell asleep against his chest, your mind and body weak from the mission. You had slept for hours, your nervous system attempting to fight off whatever sort of chemical had entered it, your vision still a slight blur as you woke, turning your head to your surroundings, the room you were in had different lighting than the hospital wing at base, the bed your body lay in much comfort than the cots they issued.

There was no mechanical beeping, no strong scent of cleaning solution, instead it smells like him, you turn your gaze, he’s there, sitting in the corner, watching you.

“You’re awake”

You grumble an incoherent response, attempting to sit up as he rushes to your side, his hand flat on your back as he helps you, he reaches for the glass beside you, bringing it to your lips to help you drink, urging you to finish it before moving it away.

“What happened?”

“Some sort of chemical entered your system, they can’t tell what”

“S’that why-?”

“I think so, yeah”

You nod weakly, Ghosts shoulders slump slightly at your question,

“No hospital?”

“They kept you for a few hours but I didn’t want them poking around”

“So we’re now where?”

“My flat, I figured you could rest here”

“Oh”

“I can take you home if you like”

You shake your head, “Here’s fine”

“Right, I’ll make you some tea then”

He stands from the bed, your eyes following his movements,

“Simon”

“Yes love?”

“It wasn’t just the chemical”

You see his eyes crease under his balaclava, confirmation that you felt the same way he did, kneeling beside you his thumb traces over your cheek, now cool and relaxed rather than burning to the touch.

He lifts his mask from his chin, leaning forward to connect your lips, your hand moving to cover his as he grabs it, locking his fingers between yours.

He pulls back from the kiss, pressing his forehead to yours as he huffs a breath,

“Rest love, I’ll take care of you”