#I feel him pulling me to the depths of hell | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

wife-of-all-dilfs · 6 months

Note

Hii! I love love love all of your finnick fics! Could I please request a fic where reader is also a victor from an earlier game and she is in an established relationship with Finnick. They both get reaped (not the same district) for the 75th games and reader gets critically hurt in the part where the cornucopia spins. Like she falls into the water after maybe being injured and she can’t swim, so Finnick has to risk everything to save her life.

I’m really looking for like a hurt/comfort with a seriously injured reader and Finnick going through hell to save her because he cannot imagine a life without her in it.

Thank you so much if you’re willing to write this or something like it, feel free of course to change anything to your liking!

two souls, one heart | f. odair

masterlist

summary: finnick refuses to lose the love of his life. your inability to swim complicates things, especially when the cornucopia begins spinning.

pairing: finnick odair x fem!reader

warnings: pre-established relationship, heavy angst, drowning, death, bone fracture

notes: thank you so much!!! i really enjoyed writing this, shed a few tears but still enjoyed it lmao. listen to 'beginning of the end movement v' by the newton brothers on repeat for the full experience <3

A quiet nursery rhyme was being sung by the water's edge.

The calm waves around the Cornucopia lapped at the rocks, the blistering sun causing the surface to sparkle. Wiress' voice interrupted Peeta as he mapped out the arena's clock-like wedges in the dirt. Everyone was focused on the map; you should have been too.

Dark blue ripples had your eyes captivated. So tranquil. So hauntingly beautiful. Loving the sea was in your blood, as your District Four was your home. You would think coming from a fishing district would mean your swimming abilities were mastered. In reality, they were practically non-existent. No matter how many times Finnick had attempted to give you lessons, they never stuck.

Neither of you seemed to care though, always too enraptured by simply being in each other's company—feeling Finnick's hands support your body as you floated on the surface...

"Don't you let go of me, Finnick Odair, or I swear to god I'll drown you."

"Will that be before or after you drown first?" he chuckled, though ultimately tightening his grip on your body in an attempt to reassure you.

....hysterically laughing when he got wiped out by a sudden wave...

"No way! I can't—" You broke into a fit of laughter— "I can't believe that just happened!"

"Are you laughing at me, sweetheart?" Finnick asked, trudging through the water towards you, his hair drenched and swept across his forehead.

"Yes!"

You doubled over, knees buckling as you struggled to contain your laughter. Despite trying to put up a serious front, Finnick too let a few chuckles slip at the hysterical sight of you.

"Oh really?"

Just like that, his arms wrapped around your waist and pulled you down into the cold water, earning him a squeal just before you crashed together below the surface.

...and washing up on the sandy shore in each other's arms, salty lips capturing one another.

"I'm covered in sand," you murmured against Finnick's lips.

He gave you another kiss before pulling away. "It's okay," he said, pecking your lips again. "I'll help you wash off in the shower when we get back." And then sent you a stomach-flipping grin.

Even though you wouldn't trade those memories for the world, if you had known your life would soon depend on the ability to swim, you would have paid much more attention to the lessons.

Finnick stood closely beside you, his trident digging into the dirt as he gripped it tightly in case of an attack. He had noticed your drifted attention, observing the way your eyes stared at the rippling water, like death was lurking just beneath the surface waiting to drag you down to the murky depths.

He could protect you from most things in the arena, but fear was something entirely different. A trident couldn't defeat the darkness in your mind.

A hand slid onto your lower back, rubbing gentle strokes to gain your attention. Your gaze tore from the blinding blue and settled onto Finnick's face beside you, watching his mouth curve into a light smile. You knew the silent words he was trying to convey: 'You're okay, sweetheart. I've got you.'

For a fleeting moment, the anxiety had disappeared. How could anything ever go wrong with Finnick by your side? The corners of your mouth quirked, preparing to send him a smile in response. But it never came. Something new had caught your attention. The woman by the water was no longer singing.

Wiress had been murdered.

The second Katniss let her arrow fly into Gloss' chest, everything around you seemed to explode into action. Anything that could go wrong would go wrong—Murphy's Law. And it did.

The Careers had initiated an attack.

Charging forward from the waterside was Cashmere, determined to avenge her brother's death. Instinct quickly kicked in and the spear in your hand was sent barrelling through the air and into her chest. As you watched her body slump to the ground, an enraged yell came from the side.

Finnick was fighting Brutus.

With your only weapon lodged within Cashmere's chest, aiding Finnick was impossible. Enobaria revealed herself beside Brutus, displaying her vicious fangs and throwing a dagger that sliced a small cut across Finnick's shoulder. Though the wound was minor, your heart lurched as he cried out in pain.

Before a single thought in your brain could form, your legs were moving. Not towards Finnick, but after Enobaria. Remember who the real enemy is—screw that. Finnick could have died. Your Finnick. He called out your name, his voice hoarse and frayed, but you continued on, hatred fuelling each step. It seemed Katniss and Johanna had the same idea, following behind you with their weapons bared.

Salt water sprayed onto your face, but you paid it no attention. Nor did you notice as the jungle surrounding the island began to blur into one overwhelming hue of green. Only when your body was thrown to the harsh rocky terrain did you realise what was happening.

The Cornucopia had started to spin.

Nothing could compare to the terror you felt as gravity's merciless force dragged your body toward the violent waves surging against the rocks. Just as your lower legs breached the edge, a hand grabbed onto your own. Katniss. She too was hanging onto Johanna whose only lifeline was an axe buried in the rocks.

A moment—that was all you were given to scan your surroundings. Supplies and sharp-edged weapons were flying everywhere. White water was spraying into the air. Finnick, who was thirty feet away, was gripping onto a rock ledge whilst keeping Beetee from sliding into the furious waves. His head turned to the side and even from a great distance, your eyes met.

It was at that moment you knew, you just knew the odds weren't going to be in your favour. God forbid you lived a simple happy life with the man you loved, days spent together on a calm beach. God forbid the Gamemakers gave you one last chance to be in his arms. God forbid you survived.

And with that sudden realisation, the universe, sick as it was, decided it was time.

Your hand began slipping from Katniss's; an unseen tear fell from your eye, and you smiled. A smile of goodbye sent to the love of your life. His face contorted into one of agony, lips moving but you couldn't hear his voice over the roaring waves. Still, you knew exactly what he was shouting.

"NO! NO!"

There was nothing he could do but watch your body disappear into the waves, repeating over and over "no, no, no," and praying his cruel eyes had deceived him. They hadn't.

Dark blue was in every direction you looked. The undertow tossed and rolled your body like a ragdoll in a washing machine and despite your attempts to swim, the surface only seemed to be slipping further and further out of your reach. Darkness engulfed you, so thick that you couldn't tell which way was up or down. That was when the panic set in.

Your arms and legs thrashed frantically, struggling against the water's force, desperate to reach safety or an air pocket. Cold water flooded your throat as you gasped uncontrollably. You screamed as every attempt at breathing felt like fire burning in your lungs. Finnick. Where was he? Where were you? What was happening? Why wouldn't it stop?

Thoughts submerged your mind in terror, and you were powerless to stop them. All you could do was feel. Pain. Fire. Burning

At some point, the Cornucopia had ceased its spinning and your body came to a rest in the water. An eerie calm suddenly washed over you; a sense of clarity stilled your wild movements. This was the end. There was no future. No hope. The world above wasn't yours to call home anymore. You now belonged to the sea.

Of course, your water-logged mind had forgotten that home was where the heart was, and your heart was still beating... above the surface, in the aching chest of another.

Tendrils of hair floated around your face like fronds of seaweed. Rays of sunlight penetrated the surface, turning the surroundings a vibrant sparkly blue. As you sank further down, the water, now a comfortable lukewarm, cradled you in its embrace. It felt safe, like being in Finnick's arms again. Like home.

You gazed at the sun's rays; they looked beautiful. You felt beautiful. But time was running out and the bright light soon began shrouding your entire vision, though not before you witnessed a dark figure dive beneath the waves.

**********

Finnick loved the ocean. He spent most days in District Four down by the beach, swimming, spearfishing, and watching the sun rise and set on the blue horizon. If he believed in reincarnation, he would have imagined himself to be a lionfish or dolphin in his past life, living in an underwater world, free from tyranny and oppression. He loved the ocean.

But that love was incomparable to what he felt for you. So, when he dove into the rocky waters to save you and felt the currents fighting against him, he determined there was nothing he hated more than the ocean. Not as he watched its strong grip drag your motionless body further down below him.

Your back had just touched the soft seabed when he swam far enough down to envelope you in his embrace. He should have swum you back to the surface immediately, but in his distressed state, he couldn't help but foolishly stare at your lifeless appearance. Your skin was blue. It's just the water's colour, he told himself. Your eyes were closed. She's just asleep. Your neck didn't pulse under his touch. She's... She's...

He had no justification for that. Feet planted firmly on the sandy floor, he propelled both himself and you back up to the surface. As Finnick paddled back to the Cornucopia, the others reached down and helped lift your limp body onto the rocks.

"Is she...?"

"Peeta," Katniss quietly reprimanded him.

Finnick paid them no attention. He said nothing but trauma screamed in his eyes. His breathing was ragged and his hands were trembling as he frantically checked your pulse again—in both your wrists and your neck; he even pressed his ear to your chest. All he heard was the waves lapping against the rocks.

"No," he whispered again.

It seemed to be all he could say anymore. No. No, this couldn't be happening. You were just standing beside him a few minutes ago; your eyes were just looking into his. However much he tried to deny reality, it didn't seem to make it any less true. You were gone.

He choked out a rough determined breath, interlocked his hands over your chest, and began pressing repeatedly over your heart. Wet strands of tangled hair were strewn across the rocks like dead seaweed. The usual soft pink accompanying your cheeks was nowhere to be seen, devoid of any life.

"Come on, sweetheart," he muttered before pulling down your chin to blow air into your lungs. The kiss of life. And when nothing happened as he pulled away, he restarted the chest compressions. "Oh, don't do this to me," he begged, voice breaking. "Don't do this. Breathe."

Any moment now. Any moment, your eyes would flutter open, the colour would return to your glowing skin, and your heart would beat with life beneath his hands. Your lips would whisper his name and he would pull you into his arms, where he would keep you safe until the end of time.

"Breathe."

Thirty compressions. Two breaths. Nothing. He did it again. Thirty compressions. Two breaths. Silence. Maybe he should've just ripped his heart out and replaced yours with his own. Death would come for him within seconds but hearing something beating inside your chest would've made the sacrifice worth it.

Life would flash before his eyes and your beaming smile would be the last thing he'd get to see. His last thought would be of relief that you were alive.

Johanna rested a tentative hand on Finnick's shoulder. "Finnick, she's—"

"No, she's not!" he exclaimed, continuing his movements. "She's fine. Aren't you, baby? You're fine." He cupped your jaw, his thumb stroking your soft skin before he pressed his lips to yours and blew twice. "You're fine."

The golden bangle around his wrist glimmered in the sunshine as he pressed on your ribcage. All he had to do was keep you alive until Plutarch rescued everyone. One simple task and he failed.

"Finnick, we have to go," someone said. Who? He didn't know nor care.

Leave me, he wanted to say. Leave me here to die. Let the Careers mutilate my body, take my life, my last breath, but let it be by her side.

Something cracked beneath his palms and he knew one of your ribs had fractured. His arms stilled, half-expecting you to cry out in pain but then he remembered. And with that sickening crack came a devastating realisation—you really were gone.

A sob erupted from his throat and his head fell to your chest, drenching your already-soaked wetsuit with hot tears. Everything else seemed to disappear. The arena, the Careers who could attack again at any moment, the spectators who were avidly watching. Everything.

It was just him and you. He didn't care that his screams and deafening sobs could bring unwanted attention or jeopardise the group's safety. Any tribute with half a mind would know crossing him in such a state would be a fatal flaw. Even if they did, it wouldn't matter. Nothing mattered. Life no longer had meaning.

Finnick pulled your lifeless body onto his lap and cradled you protectively in his arms, lightly rocking back and forth. His forehead rested against your own, cold and damp. You always were the cold one, needing his touch to light a fire beneath your skin. He loved having you rely on him for warmth, but not like this.

"Come back to me, baby, please," he begged almost inaudibly. Tears were running down his cheeks as he brushed pieces of hair away from your face. His lips were on yours once more, heartbroken and painfully delicate; not to fill your lungs with air, but to fill your heart with his love in the hopes it would be enough to bring it back to life. "Don't leave me."

Pleas, prayers, begs, and wishes flew past his lips, over and over. And then they stopped and Finnick simply stared. Silence fell across the entire arena. The birds didn't chirp, the other tributes remained quiet, and the trees stood still. Even the water had calmed, resembling a perfectly flat mirror.

Finnick only had three words left on his tongue. Three final words to give you, wherever it was that you were. He slowly leaned down, squeezed his stinging eyes shut, and pressed a long farewell kiss to your forehead. His eyes remained closed as he parted from your skin, unable to take another look as he whispered his final goodbye.

"I love you."

And then, for the first time since he had rescued you from the blue depths, he felt his heart beating again. Just like yours was.

**********

There was a voice, distant yet reassuring—a lifeline to consciousness. Black was all there was. Coldness was all that was felt. It was desolate. But that voice... that voice was so anguished yet so familiar and encouraging that it lit a fire inside your chest, warming you from the inside out.

In the distance of the dark void was a figure, their body made entirely out of a pulsating golden light. Each word the voice spoke enhanced the light's brightness. "Come... me, please..." Brighter. "Don't leave..." And brighter.

The light was warm and comforting, just like the voice attached to it. Whoever's voice it was that brought the light resonated deep in your mind, tugging at the strings within your heart.

Your heart.

The thumping in your chest was weak, almost non-existent, but it was still there. Though it seemed time was running out. Pitch-black darkness outweighed the golden light ten-to-one; you could feel its cold breath creeping onto your back. So, you started running towards the figure. Sprinting. Until all that surrounded you was golden.

"I love you."

Water. At first, it came trickling out in two fluid streams from the sides of your mouth. Then suddenly, it was spraying into the air as choked coughs forced the liquid from your burning lungs. Light flooded your vision—not golden and inviting, but vivid and overwhelming.

There was something warm beneath your legs, against your arm, rubbing at your back, holding you in an upright position. While you heaved, dry-retched, and gasped, that soothing warmth remained.

As your airways began to clear and the expulsion of water ceased, your half-lidded eyes rolled around the area. Still dazed and disoriented, you struggled to make out what surrounded you. There was immense rippling blue, vibrant hues of green in the distance, dark rough grey beneath you, and elongated blobs of colour that stood a few feet away.

"Just–just keep breathing, sweetheart." That voice. The one belonging to the figure of light that brought you back. It was madly repeating the same words over and over. "You're okay", "Deep breaths", and "You're alive."

Shaky fingers brushed the stray wet strands of hair from your face. So warm. With the little energy you had, your head turned to seek out the golden light again. And you found it.

The blinding sun shining down reflected off his bronze hair, turning it a divine golden hue. His brows were raised and scrunched together as though he couldn't possibly believe what he was seeing. Deep lines were etched into his tear-streaked skin, evidence of his previous turmoil. Those sea-green eyes stared at you, afraid that if he so much as blinked, you would fall lifeless in his arms once more.

"You're here," he whispered.

Finnick. YourFinnick. Your light.

When your eyes met, a splitting grin lit up his face, made up of an inconceivable amount of raw emotion. You weren't sure what to do—smile, laugh, cry, kiss him? Your mind was scrambled, overwhelmed with love for the beautiful golden-haired man in front of you.

Without warning, your face scrunched up and the tears began flowing. You weren't sure why you were crying. Maybe it was because you had just been brought back from the brink of death; maybe it was because you couldn't believe someone actually cared so deeply about you.

Finnick cradled your face in his hand. "It's okay," his voice trembled, tears now cascading down his cheeks. His smile, however, never disappeared. "You're okay. You're safe now. I'm not letting you go."

He took your face into two large hands, brought you to his lips, and pressed a tender kiss to each tear that rolled over your skin. One of your hands rested over his; the other was placed against his chest, feeling it rise and fall so you could synchronise your breaths.

His arms moved to pull you tightly against him, almost like he was trying to merge your body with his. Or perhaps, it was your soul. You didn't care about the pain aching in one of your ribs. You wanted to tell him that his soul was already intertwined with your own, but words couldn't describe the sentiment as profoundly as you felt it.

In the simplest of terms your water-logged brain could muster, you whispered, "You're my light, Finnick."

Brows scrunched together, he looked down at you, fighting back the urge to start sobbing in your arms. If he had been anywhere else, if there wasn't an entire country watching, he would've gone on for hours, explaining how stupidly, selfishly, and incredibly in love with you he was.

But he couldn't do that. Not now. So, he placed his hand over the one you had resting on his chest and readjusted its position. He could feel the thumping, even through your palm.

Your eyes were full of emotion as you stared up into his. You already knew what his next words were going to be and for the first time since you were thrown into the water from the Cornucopia, you smiled.

Rhythmically, your hand and his pulsed together. Finnick's gaze flickered across your face and he grinned. "You're my heart."

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tteokdoroki · 7 months

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Thinking about the freshly corrupted priest Gojo pumping his dick in the confession booth while the sinful vixen sitting in the other cabin went from confessing her sins of corrupting one of the local fathers and having him cream down her throat to giving him instructions on how to handle his throbbing cock lovingly

Go faster now, father- squeeze the tip just a little bit...yes that's a good boy...now spit on it, make a mess of yourself and give everyone a show, all their eyes are peering down and up on you.

And with that, good morning aali my love <3

-glasses anon

☆༉ — SATORU GOJO. confessional.

about. you confess your sins to father satoru, but with the lust bubbling between you both, things get a little carried away.

warnings. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact! nsfw, smut, sacrilege, religious imagery/references, guided masturbation, male masturbation, priest!gojo, fem!reader, wc: 1.6K.

what good is a priest who can’t follow his own teachings? one that succumbs to the slightest hint of femme fatale?

gojo thought himself a strong man. a good one. but once again, he’d found himself drinking from the devil’s cup offered up by a lost little angel who has strayed away from her path to light.

“and i really didn’t mean to. father toji— i mean fushiguro— seemed so stressed! like he needed a helping hand.” you whimper unevenly from your side of the confessional booth. guilt buzzes in satoru’s veins as he imagines you teary eyed and distraught on the other side of the wall. the mere idea of you crying sends pleasure and lustful hormones shooting through his bloodstream and right down to his erection — the tip flushing a shameful shade of bright red.

you continue relentlessly, each word a breathless whisper laid over the swell of your sinful lips.“s-so i offered some relief in the only way i know how. i let him use my body, let him use my throat. he said it was okay…” but i just feel so wrong for corrupting him like that under the watchful eye of the lord. is it wrong that i liked it, father ‘toru. having that man’s cum pour down my throat?”

you’ve strayed too far away from the light and you’re pulling him into the darkness with you.

“f-fuck.”

“is something wrong father toru, your voice sounds rather strained.” by the tone of your own, he can just tell that you have your head cocked to the side innocently. perhaps your lip is caught daringly between your teeth — eyes gleaming with mischief while you mask your amusement at the damage you’ve caused. the young priest’s dick throbs against his inner thigh, smearing white along his baby soft skin. satoru grabs at his girth, squeezing it as if to stave off the pleasure that he should be disgusted by.

clearing his throat, gojo internally curses as the words stick to its ridges — almost as if he doesn’t believe what comes out of his own mouth next. “i-i’m fine. have you prayed? i’m sure he would forgive you for your sins.”

“i’ve been on my knees every night.” you mumble through a pout that he can’t see — earning another hiss from the priest while his angry red cockhead starts to bleed more arousal, forming a dark stain that seep’s through the fabric of his black slacks. “if you don’t mind me asking… does it hurt, father toru?”

“does what hurt?” he exhales slowly, pearly white lashes fluttering against the apples of his cheeks. gojo, against his better judgments, pops the button of his pants to provide some relief to his aching cock. it doesn’t help at all.

“your cock. father fushiguro felt the same after i confessed what i’d done with father getou.”

shit. “yes… it does.”

“i maybe be able to help.” your voice somehow sounds closer — as if you’re in the booth with him. “can you touch it… touch yourself for me, please?”

when you ask him so sweetly, how can father satoru say no? he follows your instructions like a man charmed by a succubus from the deep depths of hell. his whole body shudders and his breath stutters when he finally takes his forth between his king and slender fingers, squeezing at the base as precum beads like a rare oyster’s pearl in the centre of his slit.

this is so wrong. “holy…holy shit,” but it already feels so good. gojo hisses, chest heaving as he instinctively bucks into his closed fist. it’s warm, sends shockwaves of pleasure down his spine to build in his pelvis while each vein that wraps prettily around his cock pulses with a new wave of lust laden blood. “what should i…?” he coughs shakily, hips slowly beginning to fuck upwards to chase the feeling of his palm. “what should i do now?”

“spit on it, father.” you command him gently, blessing him with your praise where the higher being above might condemn him. “get it nice and wet for me, like i would, okay? squeeze the tip when you do—“

father ‘toru easily follows your word as if it reads passages from the bible. carefully, he leans forward — letting hot, gooey trails of spit dribble over his blistering and bright cockchead. his entire body twitches at the new sensation, which is surprisingly cool in comparison to how hot his body feels. sweat tracks it’s way down his body, soiling his hood robes and freshly pressed clothes. it makes his pure white locks stick to his forehead, and gathers on his cupid’s bow and it really is all too much.

he feels like hell on earth.

there’s a dull thud that echoes from satoru’s side of the booth, his head knocking against the wooden walls when it falls back. in the same breath, a loud and borderline pornographic moan rips it’s way through satoru’s firm chest — it battles through his lips (caught between sets of perfect white teeth), and reverberates throughout the confessional booth, no doubt catching the attention of people passing by.

“ohmygod,” comes his pathetic whimper while he clenches around himself once again, throat bobbing as he swallows down his sinful sounds. “why does that feel so fucking good? g-god, please!”

satoru’s fall from grace makes a sick smile spread across your lips and you cock your head to the side. you can only imagine what he looks like if this is how he sounds, his clothes a sweaty mess, his eyes delirious and darkened with ungodly and immoral desire. all this while he begs for god, begs for forgiveness, begs for you.

“you’re doing so well for me, ‘toru. can you go a little faster for me? now that it’s nice and wet.” the way his name falls gently from your tongue is like thick honey running through satoru’s ears — you drag a veil of lust over his mind and once again he follows your orders. he pumps himself faster, harder, precum slinging over the edge of his knuckles as they turn as white as his hair from the grip he has on himself.

he can’t help but let his mind stray and wander off into damned territory — chasing the vision that his clouded mind creates for him. would your cunt feel as good as this? wrap around him as tightly? a stream of unfiltered and colourful curses pour from gojo’s mouth in a similar manner to the arousal from his mushroomed tip, dripping a searing hot trail down to his throbbing balls.

lewd squelches slip through the cracks of the confessional booth and filter right through to you. satoru has no idea how pleased you are to have ruined him, how much you’ve longed to hear him mewl and sigh from touching himself against the will of god. “you sound so messy, ‘toru,” you moan out just to mock him a little — listening out for his strained and strangled whines, gargling down the saliva that pools on his tongue. “think you can make an even bigger mess for me, father? one that everyone will see. those above….” you purr, the tail end of your words harmonising with gojo’s hiccups. “and those below.”

satoru is no better than a sinner come to spill their truths to him. sitting there with his painfully hard dick in his hands, fisting it to oblivion as opaque white stains his hands and his fingers and his knuckles. there’s so much of it, so much lust and precum and he hasn’t even reached his peak yet. everything is so fucking hot, his dick slick between his sticky thighs and all-too-tight robes.

“almost there, satoru. i need you to let go for me.”

your goading voice through the thick oak wall pushes satoru’s hips to canter up higher and higher. he wants to please you so bad that it hurts and makes him cry. he whispers your name into the buzzing air like it’s a prayer, chanting it over and over again until it becomes the only word he knows.

“fuck… i can’t—“ gojo sighs airily, his thighs shuddering as the knots in his stomach begin to unravel. “christ… I feel like ‘m gonna burst!” angelic blue eyes roll deep back into the man’s skull, disappearing from the world to hide from the atrocities he’s committed.

“then let go, let it all out. you’ve done so well.” you say sweetly over the sound of gojo languidly jacking himself off. one, two and three more pumps before he’s releasing thick white ropes of cum over his robe and his chest — seeping into his clothes.

gojo’s so fucking dizzy, cumming so hard that he sees bright lights and swears that he’s landed at the gates of heaven — though he’s sure his actions today would stop him from getting in. there’s a ringing in his ear as he comes back down but all of his limbs feel heavy, he’s too weak to move.

“f-father satoru?” you whisper innocently, as if your very voice didn’t lead the man to death. “i think our time is up.”

“yeah?” he mumbles in response, the words slipping around on his tongue. “i think… you did good today. you’ll have to come back again next week, to make another confession.”

if only he could see your sick little smile, one might have thought you were the devil. who knows what’ll happen if you’re alone together in a confined space. “if that’s what you need from me, father.” you giggle slyly. “see you next week.”

“see you next week.” gojo repeats.

and just like that, you’ve dragged the poor priest into the corrupted depths of hell.

#gojo x reader #gojo smut #gojo x you #satoru gojo smut #jjk smut #satoru gojo x reader #gojo satoru smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #gojo satoru x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo satoru x you #satoru gojo x you #jjk x reader #jjk x you #angelshubnetwork #✧ ₊˚੭ — writing #tteokdoroki #✧ ₊˚✉️੭ — new notification #ʚ glasses anon anon’ ɞ

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cryptidghostgirl · 4 months

Text

The Guilt (Alastor x Reader)

Pairing: Alastor x Reader)

Description: Y/n was the one person he never meant to kill, but Alastor didn't have a choice. Years later, much to his surprise, they run into one another in the depths of Pentagram City.

Warnings: Murder, cannibalism mentioned in a metaphoric sense. Un-detailed descriptions of rotting bodies.

Word Count: 2,701

Master Lists:

Master Lists

Hazbin Hotel Master List

A/N I promise I will get to the rest of the requests soon, I just wanted to write something that has been stuck in my head for a hot minute since I've like only been doing requests the past couple days. I think the only ones I have left are ones that have been sent in since February 15th so I hope that is okay.

Alastor recognized her the minute he first saw her. It had been a year since his arrival in Hell and he was already making waves. Demons avoided him on the streets, shot him fearful glances over their shoulders. He enjoyed the privacy it afforded him, the padding of air around him.

He didn't pay the others mind, focused on his own goals and patterns of being. Friends, relationships, they were far from his top priority but still, Alastor recognized her the minute he first saw her.

In his years of blood soaked escapades in the world of the living, he had wreaked havoc on the world. In all those years, he had only ever made two mistakes. The first had been getting caught, getting killed by that hunter. The second? Had been killing that girl.

He hadn't had a choice. Normally, Alastor chose his victims carefully following a specific criteria. She had been an accident. He had gotten careless one night, cocky even in his streak of successes. Alastor had been transfixed, carving a man's intestines from the cavity of his stomach. The girl had had wide eyes, her mouth open. She had trembled.

Their eyes had met across the darkened street. She had clutched at her coat, pulling it tighter. She hadn't even tried to run.

Alastor never learned her name, avoided all reports on her disappearance and death like the plague. She haunted him. He saw her around corners, when he shut his eyes at night like a vengeful spirit. Always just staring at him with those big, knowing eyes. He didn't need more reminders, more facets of feeling, than he already had.

Alastor had recognized her the minute he first laid eyes on her in Hell. It had taken him a moment to realize she was real, she still looked so deeply human after all. He had never expected her to be here. He had never expected to see her again.

When he opened his eyes and she was still there, sitting placidly at the cafe table, it was like some uncontrollable force pulled him to her. He pulled out the spare chair, falling lazily into it. She looked up at the noise of metal against concrete, curiosity painting her features as she lowered her book onto the table.

"Hello?" she said after a moment, though it was more of a question than a greeting.

Alastor had never heard her voice before except for when she had screamed. It was melodious, it was soft and sweet. His smile grew.

"Yes, hello indeed."

She stared at him with those eyes, those same eyes that had haunted him for years.

"My apologies but, who are you? Do I know you?"

He was unable to keep the surprise from his features. It had been a long time since anyone had asked him something like that, he couldn't tell if she was joking. But then there were those wide eyes, earnest in their honesty.

"No, my apologies. I did not introduce myself. My name is Alastor, quite the pleasure to meet you. Quiet the pleasure."

He grabbed her hand from where it lay daintily across her open book, shaking it in his own.

"Oh!" Y/n lightly exclaimed in response to the action, "Oh, well, Alastor, I am Y/n. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance as well."

The contact broke and Alastor leaned his elbows on the table, resting his chin in his hands.

"Forgive me for saying this but, you seem a bit unsuited for all this mess. Prim and proper. What landed you here?"

"Is that why you've come to join me?"

Alastor nodded after a second's thought. It was an easy cover up for his true motives. Y/n seemed to have no idea who he was after all and to be perfectly honest, even Alastor himself was struggling to understand his motivations. Guilt wasn't an emotion he was familiar with. It was confusing, writhed in the pit of his stomach like a snake.

"Well, thats a rather personal question to ask someone right off the bat, isn't it?"

"I suppose you're right. How about this one then, what are you reading?"

After that day at the cafe, Alastor followed Y/n like a hurt puppy. He didn't rightly know why. It was a compulsion of a sort, he couldn't stop it. She was disinterested by radio, by the newfangled video boxes popping up. She knew nothing of his reputation, she just thought he was a friend. A fairly determined friend, but a friend none the less.

Alastor didn't understand it. He was a man obsessed, not with Y/n per say but with the opportunity she offered. She smelled like making good on past wrongs. That wasn't something Alastor had ever been interested in before. Y/n was the exception. She was always the exception, he supposed.

It wasn't long before their little lunches, their random rendezvous in the streets, carefully orchestrated by Alastor of course, not that she knew, became something more. Spending time with her calmed the raging sea of uncertainty in his gut. Being kind to her felt like salvation.

Alastor had never been concerned with that before, but it was such an intoxicating thing to hear her words of thanks, of praise. To witness her smiles and her apparently unending kindness. They would spend hours pouring over one another's collections of books. They would spend hours in deep philosophic discussion. It was Y/n who first brought up their previous lives.

"Do you ever miss it?" she had asked when they had been making lunch together one day in her apartment.

Alastor's hand had stilled, his knife halfway through the cut of veal he had been handeling.

"Miss what, my dear?"

"Life."

He began to move the knife again, letting out a slight hum of thought.

"Not particularly. I take it you do?"

Y/n leaned over the pot, checking to see if the water was boiling yet for the potatoes. It wasn't and so she turned to him, leaning up against the counter.

"Sometimes." she admitted.

Alastor turned to her as well. The apron over her dress was stained with jam from the times they had baked together just a few days before. Y/n hair was tied up and away from her face. He felt his heart stutter in his chest.

That had been happening a lot lately when he looked at her. Alastor figured it was a progression of guilt, a giving away of it. He figured spending time with Y/n was helping it go away.

It wasn't like it was a burden for him. They actually had a surprising amount in common.

"What do you miss?"

"My mom."

And there it was again, the cannibalistic sickness eating away at his brain.

"Were you two close?"

Y/n nodded, turning her gaze to the window.

"Yeah. She... I didn't have a big family. Or a lot of friends growing up. I was shy, painfully shy. She was... she was all I had. And now she's alone up there."

"What landed you down here?"

Y/n looked back to Alastor, smirking.

"Back to this are we? Only took what, six months?"

"We're friends now, aren't we?"

"Alastor..."

"Shoot me, I'm curious."

Y/n laughed lightly.

"Okay, I tell you, you tell me. Deal?"

Alastor thought it over for a moment. He could always lie to her, make up some story or another but, she was bound to find out eventually. More than anything, he wanted to keep her from connecting the pieces. Y/n figuring things out felt dangerous, it pained him to think about how she would react.

"Deal."

"Okay, um," Y/n looked away again, her hands fiddling with the frilled edge of her apron, "I don't really like to talk about it. It's kind of embarrassing."

"You made a deal."

"Yeah, yeah. I know."

"So spill."

Y/n smiled lightly, meeting Alastor's eyes for a second.

"Well, I was kind of... maybe... sort of... a thief?"

"Really?"

Alastor hadn't expected that. He wasn't quite sure what he had expected to be honest but, it wasn't that.

"Yeah. Times were... tough growing up. Single mom with a kid in the early 1900s? Not everyone was a fan. It was hard for her to find work so I would... supplement. No one suspected the little girl, you know?"

There were two types of demons in Hell. There were the ones that had their demon forms, and then there were the ones like Alastor with more than one form, more abilities, more strength. It was the anger that fed it, the person they were on earth. Alastor had always assumed Y/n fell into the first category but, as she relayed her tale to him, her body began to change. She rotted before his very eyes, becoming a standing corpse with his bones all showing.

"I always felt awful about it but, we didn't really have a choice. You know? I didn't want to do it, didn't like it, but I did it and I was good at it. When I grew up, well, sometimes it is just easier to stick to what you know. I worked for a cleaning service, maids for hire, working parties, stuff like that. I, well, the people I worked for were rich. They didn't need the money but my mother and I certainly did."

It was then she seemed to realize her own changed appearance. Her eyes shot up to Alastor as she retook her original form.

"Sorry about that." she awkwardly laughed, "Guess the guilt is still eating me alive, even in death. So, what'd you do?"

Alastor took a breath, appraising the situation. The guilt, the sense of having truly sinned.

"I was a serial killer."

Y/n's eyes went wide.

"Really? You? But you're so..."

"So what, my dear?"

"So nice."

Alastor stilled.

"Nice?" he repeated.

Even in life, it was a word that few had directed towards him. Polite, yes. Talented, yes. Charming? Of course, but never nice.

At the sound of bubbling from the pot, Y/n turned his back to him.

"Yeah." she shrugged, opening the lid and dropping the potatoes in, "You probably one of the nicest people I've ever met."

The way Y/n saw him was intoxicating. Nice. He began to spend more and more time at her side. It was hard to keep the other half of his life from her but, he managed. It was a delicate balance, a game he knew well.

It was a day about a year later that Y/n approached him, blushing and unable to meet his eyes. It was a year later she told him how she felt and he realized he felt the same. They moved in together, did nearly everything together. It was a happy afterlife for them both. The first time they had kissed, she had tasted like redemption.

Y/n never questioned what Alastor did on his late nights out alone. She trusted his fidelity and when he said he liked going for walks alone in the evening air, she accepted it. When he said he was at work, broadcasting his radio show, she never asked why they didn't have a radio of their own. It was an unspoken agreement, he didn't ask where the money came from and she didn't ask what he did in the long hours he was away.

The guilt felt heavy in the pit of his stomach, growing stronger every day but still, Y/n remained blissfully ignorant. Alastor could practically hear the clock ticking. Every kiss felt like it might be the last, every caress, every meal shared at the kitchen table. He did everything he could, but knew one day she was bound to find out.

Alastor knew the day had come when he entered their lovely home on the outskirts of the Pride ring. He called his usual hello out into the house from the foyer, letting the door fall shut behind him. Y/n didn't come.

"Y/n?" he called, taking a step further into the house, "Are you home?"

All the lights were on. That was something she was careful about from the old days, making sure not to use electricity unless necessary. There was no way she wasn't in the house.

Tentatively, he stepped into the kitchen. She was sitting at the table, her head in her hands.

"Are you alright, my love?"

It was then he noticed the radio on the table.

"Oh."

"Yeah." Y/n sighed, looking up at him, "Oh."

"Where did you get that?"

"Someone dropped it off, left it at the door. I thought it was you originally but, now I'm not so sure."

Someone had left it for her? One of Alastor's numerous enemies was responsible no doubt. He had always been so careful to keep her protected, out of the public eye. It didn't make sense.

"You heard todays broadcast?"

"Oh you mean the screams of innocent demons mixed in with your stories about New Orleans?"

Alastor was silent. Y/n's eyes were rimmed with red, her hair a mess.

"They were far from innocent. Everyone is down here for a reason. Besides, I told you. I'm a killer."

"You didn't tell me you were my killer."

His heart stopped. He hadn't realized exactly how much she'd managed to piece together from the simple broadcast.

"Am I now?" Alastor asked placidly, trying to remain calm as he clasped his hands behind his back.

He didn't know what he was playing at. He was grasping at straws. Y/n got to her feet.

"You never told me you were from New Orleans, just said you grew up in the south. I let it slide but, I shouldn't have. I should have known, the similarities in our experiences... god, I was such a fool! I should have known we grew from the same patch of dirt. Alastor, there was only one serial killer active in the city at the time we were both alive, at the time I died."

"And you think it was me, my heart?"

"Alastor." she crossed her arms.

"I..."

"How could you not tell me?"

Y/n's anger mixed with grief, it misdirected itself, it got caught on the details. It hurt more that he'd been lying to her. The act itself was something to be dealt with later. Now was the time for the lies. They had spent years together, built a life together and the whole time, he had been lying.

"I didn't me-"

"Mean for me to find out?"

"Well, yes." he took a step forward, he tried to grab her hands but she pulled them away.

Y/n's skin was rotting now, she was taking on her other form. It was the first time he'd seen her do it when not remising about the past or telling stories about her mother. He had no idea what she was capable of when in this state.

"But also, I didn't mean to-"

"To what, to kill me? To marry me? To make me fucking trust you?"

"I..."

The world was falling down around him. The one thing he couldn't lose, the one thing he cared about besides himself or his power. The person that meant the most to him.

"My darling, my heart, m-"

"No, Alastor. Just... just stop." she sighed, a hand to her forehead.

She rubbed her temples, exhausted and overwhelmed.

"I'm sorry."

The words were spoken softly but they crashed into Y/n like a speeding truck. They broke her ribs. She lowered her hand.

"I... I need some time."

"No, Y/n, wait. Please."

Again, she brushed off his attempts to hold her, making her way to the door of the kitchen. Alastor followed her out into the hallway.

"Y/n. Please. Please don't leave."

"What, so you can keep up your pity project?" she scoffed, rounding on him, "I am better than that Alastor. I deserve better."

"It... you aren't a pity project. You're my world, I love you."

"No, your world is this city. Your world is running Hell. I... Alastor, I'm leaving."

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charliemwrites · 5 months

Text

Woof woof… whimper

(Part 10… but technically a continuation of part 9)

Content: Dub-Con/Non-Con, Knotting

It takes your cock-addled brain a second too long to process what Soap’s just said. What he’s implied. And by then he’s all ready for you to buck against him, confused and angry.

“That’s so — that’s not funny!” You shout.

But he’s got you pinned thoroughly, your chest flat against the mattress and your ass flush against his hips. His cock buried so deep you can feel the hot head of it bullying the deepest parts of you. All your struggling does is make you clench up tight around him, makes him feel that much bigger and meaner inside you. Makes him grunt low and ragged in your ear, all animal appreciation.

“I’m not laughin’,” he replies, nipping at your shoulder.

“G-get off of me, get out, get—”

His hand slides into your hair again, gets a firm hold at the roots and presses your face into the blankets, muffling your protests. Shushes you like soothing a panicked animal.

“Now, now,” he chides, “I still gotta prove I’m not compensating, don’t I?”

You suck in a breath, squeezing your eyes shut. There have to be a million explanations other than the absolutely ludicrous one he’s just presented to you. Cameras, microphones….

How did he know where you live?

How did he know where the spare key was?

How did he know where your bedroom was?

How did he find you at the bar?

Stalker, you tell yourself. He’s a creep, you’ve always known that.

Then where’s your dog?

“N-no,” you warble, bucking again. Nearly scream as his cock twitches inside you; only reason you don’t is because you can barely breathe as it is. He’s so deep inside that he’s practically in your lungs. “No way you’re my — there’s no way. You’re crazy. I’m gonna— ah!”

He draws out as you speak, gradual, and then plunges in again all at once, cutting you off. Grinds his hips in a dirty circle too, burying himself as deep as he can.

“Aww, poor thing,” he coos. “S’alright, baby, I knew this would happen. We jus’ gotta get all those big, scary feelings out first. Then I can explain it all nice and slow.”

You try to scream at him. Try to curse him out, tell him there’s no way in hell you’re listening to a word he says now; never mind letting him spend another second with his dick in you.

All that comes out is a high-pitched keen as he starts fucking you without further preamble. It aches, but you can’t tell in what way. If it hurts, if it’s the best you’ve ever had. Both? Your nerves feel haywire, brain dragged to lust-stupid depths.

“See, there we go,” he rasps, punctuating with a sharp snap of his hips on that last word. “My perfect little mate. Your cunt was made for my cock, made to be bred by me. Isn’t that right?”

You try to shake your head, but his grip keeps you from doing more than sending electricity down your spine, hair pulled taut.

“Yeah it fucking is,” he growls to his own question, canting your hips back further. His fingers grip cruelly into the flesh, sure to leave bruises. You wish you didn’t enjoy the sensation, wish it didn’t make you spasm around him helplessly.

“‘Bout time I owned you right back, don’t you think?” He continues, never stopping or even slowing. You yelp as he tugs your necklace again, arching your back at a steep angle. “Even collared yourself up for me. All it needs is my name.”

Something about that drives some awful, slutty part of your brain fucking wild. The idea of you with a tight leather choker — a collar — with his name (you don’t think about what name) hanging from your throat…

“Like that, don’t you?” He chuckles meanly. “Who’s my good little slut? Who’s my perfect, soaked little breeding whore?”

Tears spring to your eyes as you realize the “I am” is right there on the tip of your over-saturated tongue. If you had air, brain cells, any ability at all, you’d be crying it to the ceiling like the toy he’s treating you as.

He’s going to ruin you, you think. He’s going to fuck you broken. You’re crying and wailing on his cock, think you’d actually throw a tantrum if he pulled out and left you on the edge right now. Would, you realize in horror, beg for him to keep going.

And then he snakes his hand around your hip and starts rubbing your clit — fast, hard little circles. Just the way you like; the way you’d do it yourself. Relentlessly and cruel, even when you try to writhe away from how fast you can feel yourself getting to the edge. Almost frightened by it, how quickly he’s mastered your body’s pleasure.

Frightened by the extra stimulation at your entrance, too. A little extra friction at first — shocking because you’re leaving a puddle on the sheets. But then the friction becomes pressure, becomes… more.

“W-wha….?” You slur, hips wriggling.

Soap (Johnny?) snarls in your ear and that feeling at your entrance grows. Feels, you realize with alarm, like stretching.

“Gonnae take my knot so well,” he rambles, accent thick like syrup, trickling into your empty brain, filling you up with meaningless sounds. “Plug you up full of my cum, breed you right just like you need.”

Any questions or confusion are whisked away by the extra stimulation at your entrance. The sensitive nerves getting just as much brutal attention as your inner walls, your cervix, that sweet spot inside you that makes your eyes roll back.

It all becomes too much all at once and crashes through you, devastating. You clamp down around him tight and needy, lean all your weight back into his thighs. And he practically howls as he sinks into you and stays, grinding and humping without ever actually pulling out again. You feel a flood of heat that seems to go on for an absurdly long time, cock pulsing against your overstimulated walls, milked for every last drop.

You shudder as your brain tries and fails to process it all. Like trying to decipher a foreign language from white noise. It’s nothing but static to you.

You can feel a tongue against your shoulder, scraped of blunt teeth. Soap/Johnny licking the sweat from your skin and nipping bruises into the flesh. You make an annoyed noise that comes out whinier than intended, shoving at his face.

“Get off, you bastard.” Your voice is pathetic, thick with tears and fractured in a hundred places.

“Can’t, bonnie, even if I wanted to.”

You scowl, try to look at him over your shoulder. He takes that opportunity to nuzzle against your temple.

“What?” You ask. “What are you talking about?”

“Did ye hear me?” He chuckles. “Well, maybe not with the way you were screamin’. You’re all knotted up, baby. Can’t pull out — ‘less you want this pretty pussy to tear.”

You jolt, nearly yank yourself off out of pure fear, but Johnny keeps you still again, humming.

“Easy now,” he croons. “Still fussy? Need another to settle down?”

Useless as your brain may be, it recognizes what he means by “another one.” You think you might pass out.

“No,” you snap, petulant even to your own ears. “I want you to explain… explain everything.”

“Alright, hen. C’mere.”

He gently lays you out prone on the bed, then rolls you both on your sides. Hitches your leg up over his hip. You want to protest, but it helps the ache in your poor cunt.

“H-how are you still hard?” You pant, traitorous pussy twitching around him.

He growls in your ear, can feel him grinning against the lobe. “Will stay that way for a bit, lass. Don’ worry, you jus’ have to lay here all nice and still. Keep me warm while I explain things to you.”

And he does. How there are shapeshifters out there in the world, rare as they are. That he comes from a line of them. Recruited to military, as most of them are.

How he was on standard patrol when he smelled you for the first time.

“Like a wet dream, bonnie. Fertile. Spring. Smelled like mine.”

How he instantly knew you were his mate. That he just needed to make you see it. Never a good time to explain it all to you — and then there were interlopers and your silly little books and your pesky toys. How he tried to drop hints around the house, let you come to the correct conclusion on your own. But you never did.

“Honestly it’s a good thing I’m here, hen. You’re so oblivious. Lived with a man and never even knew it.”

That he tried to go about it the other way ‘round, as a man, but you’re just so stubborn. And then how it all led up to tonight. To you finally, finally realizing what you really needed: your mate.

You should be angry, furious. There’s a lot to say about… well, all of it. It’s horrifying and violating and… and…

And he hasn’t stopped bullying your clit since he started talking. Cruel, tight circles. Drawing the hood back with two fingers and stroke with a third, slow and languid and just soft enough to make your head spin. Rhythmless taps. Even pinches when you try to chew him out at one point, half turning to scowl. Instead have his tongue lapping sloppily at yours as your mouth gapes open soundlessly.

Makes you cum twice just like that without ever interrupting his own story, cock still hilted — knotted deep inside you. Honestly, you probably miss a good portion of it, some of the finger details for sure. But you get the broad strokes (among other strokes).

He licks at your overstimulated tears when he’s finished, nuzzling and kissing your cheek.

“I-I miss my dog,” you mumble finally, hands balled against your chest.

“Aww, darlin’,” he sighs, sounding genuinely apologetic. “We’re one and the same. I’m always your boy no matter what form I take.”

It would be more comforting if his dick didn’t throb calling himself your boy.

“‘Sides, I’m better than a normal mutt,” he continues, tugging you against his chest. You want to hate that is instantly makes you feel a little better. “Wolves mate for life, after all.”

First | Previous | 1fur1

Masterlist

#sorry this is a little shorter but uhhhhh i never know where to go after smut #anyway hope yall like it #cod #my writing #fanfiction #reader fic #thoughts™️#dark fic #woof woof johnny #woof woof au #wolf john soap mactavish #johnny soap mactavish

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atticrissfinch · 6 months

Text

Hard to Break the Habit | (joel miller x fem!reader) (18+)

Part 3 of Meet Me in the Back

pairing: sleazy gas station clerk!joel miller x fem!reader summary: when you need some air in your tires, joel does some filling warnings/tags: [18+ MINORS DNI] age gap (no specifics), size!kink, daddy!kink, light breeding!kink, brief oral (f!receiving), brief fingering, body-marking, taking nude photos, unprotected PIV, creampie, Joel being good with cars i.e. competency!kink ig, mentions of reader being in the dead dad club, v brief mentions of cigarettes and weed, something kinda sorta resembling…fluff??, Joel being his normal, sleazy self that we all know and love atp, also I typically try to make reader as accessible as I can/is plausible but in this case reader can fit in Joel’s coat and knows jackshit about car maintenance word count: ~5K | ao3 a/n: we know him, we love him, we can't stop writing him. i love this joel so much, and we get just like an OUNCE of cutesy in this part, so I hope y'all like that shit 💖 Series Masterlist | Masterlist

It takes a good, long ponder before you make the decision. The tire light on your car has been on for at least a week now, and you’ve been putting it off. You did a thorough check of them and came to the conclusion that they just need air. Something that you presume should be easy, but you’ve never done it before.

You’ve always happened to have a boyfriend (or boy toy) around to do it for you. And before them, there was your father. You’ve somehow managed to go this long without ever filling up your tires yourself, and you feel fucking stupid about it.

Anything regarding the actual maintenance of your car feels vastly out of your depth, and even though you’re sure you could learn, you’re plagued with an overwhelming anxiety that you could make one wrong move and your car will blow up.

It’s that anxiety that ultimately has you pulling into the gas station on a chilly Saturday night at 2 AM, when you know Joel will be there and won’t be busy. The station has a free air pump, so he must know how it functions, right?

Your zip-up jacket and leggings don’t do much to keep you warm, so you all but sprint inside to the sickly chime of the bell on the door.

Right where you’ve left him every time, he’s on his stool, Maxim between his thighs. He glances up at the sound of the bell, and you think his eyes light up just a titch. “Well, well. Didn’t know if I’d see you again.”

“Wasn’t sure I’d let you,” You banter back, your hands shoved into your jacket pockets, arms clinging to your sides for warmth as you thaw inside the warm store.

“Wind is bitin’ out there. The hell you doin’ out so late when it’s this cold?” A knowing smile creeps across his face. “Couldn’t resist the allure of another ride on the ol’ Joel-er Coaster, huh?”

You stare at him, face riddled with bemusement. “Really? Joel-er Coaster? Do you just sit here all night, coming up with stupider and stupider shit to say to women?”

“Got a lotta time on my hands here, little girl,” Joel says, gesturing broadly to the empty store.

“Well, then, can you give me a hand with something?” You ask, biting your lip with slight apprehension.

Joel grunts through his words as he pushes himself up off his stool and tosses his magazine on the counter, “Sure can.”

His hands are already on his goddamn belt when you rush out, “Not with that! Something else.”

His fingers freeze halfway through pulling the end of his belt through the buckle with a quizzical look. “The hell else would you be comin’ to me for?”

You sigh, rubbing your palm into your eye socket as you brace yourself for the impending embarrassment. “I need someone to fill up my tires.”

Joel’s brows draw down as his hands fall to the counter instead of his belt. “Fill up your tires? That’s it?”

“I’ve never done it before, alright? I don’t wanna fuck something up.”

“You ain’t got a daddy—an actual daddy—to show you how to do that shit?”

You avoid his gaze doggedly. “It’s complicated. Short answer is no.”

“And so I’m the closest thing to a daddy you got?” Joel lets a low whistle. “Shit, I’ll take what I can get.” Joel throws on a thick utility jacket from an alcove under the counter and heads out the door. “Come on, darlin’. Faster we get you filled up…” He looks over his shoulder with a little glint in his eye as he winks, “Well, faster we get you filled up.”

You scoff quietly, but trail after him, wrapping the ends of your flimsy jacket around you as tight as you can with your hands buried in the sleeves.

As you make your way over to the pump where you pulled up your car–proud of yourself for at least being able to identify the right machine, all things considered–Joel chats casually with you. “So your daddy don’t live around here?”

You can see your breath as you exhale, not particularly wanting to have this conversation, but you don’t feel like arguing. “Doesn’t live anywhere anymore.”

Joel halts at your car, peering over his shoulder at your shivering form. “Shit. Sorry ‘bout that.”

“It’s whatever,” You brush off, your teeth chattering, and you have no fucking idea why you didn’t grab a warmer coat.

“Jesus, darlin’,” Joel exclaims softly, wriggling his arms out of his jacket and handing it to you. “Gonna catch your fuckin’ death dressed like that.”

“Joel, it’s fine. You’re in short sleeves! I’m not—”

But he thrusts the coat against you with finality until you wrap your arms around it tentatively and mutter a “thank you” as you pull it on. He hasn’t even worn it long and it’s already warm, smelling of cigarettes, his cologne, and a hint of weed. It’s oddly comforting in a way you are definitely not granting yourself liberty to analyze right now.

“Reckon you don’t know your PSI off the top of your head?”

“That would be a no,” You admit, teeth doing significantly less chattering in the heavy coat.

“That’s alright. Unlock your car,” He instructs as he pulls on your driver’s side handle.

You rear back a little. “Fuck no. I’m not letting you in my car.”

Joel sighs, propping an arm on his hip, the hairs on his arm raised in goosebumps from the chill. “Relax, I just need to check your PSI threshold.”

“PSI threshold?”

“Yes. Stands for Pressure…Somethin’…Somethin’…I don’t fuckin’ know, it just tells me how much to fill up your tires.”

“And that’s found inside my car…?”

“In the door frame typically, yes.”

You eye him warily, but he seems as even-keeled as he ever has, so you sigh out a cloudy breath and pull your keys from your zip-up pocket and hit the unlock.

“Thank ya kindly,” He nods with a little salute as he opens the door and crouches. You round the car to watch for any funny business, but he just taps on the small label right in the frame of the door. “There she is.”

“Oh shit. Never even noticed that before.”

Joel shakes his head. “Jesus. Operatin’ this thing and don’t know a goddamn thing about it.”

“I know how to drive it,” You sass back, leaning in obstinately with your arms crossed, “That’s all that matters.”

Joel’s eyes flick up to you before studying the text on the little sticker, muttering under his breath, “Until you need to fill your fuckin’ tires.”

“Someone usually does it for me, okay, dickhole?”

“Not the one I’d be calling a dickhole out the two of us, but alright,” He mumbles. He cranes his head to look up at you and inquire, “You at least got a pressure gauge?”

“The fuck is that?”

“Jesus. It’s usually like a little…metal shaft with a bulb on the end,” He explains, doing his best to mime the shape with his hands.

You narrow your eyes. “That supposed to be some kind of euphemism for—Oh! Wait,” You cut yourself off, remembering the weird silver thing an ex left in your car once. You scurry over to the passenger’s side and pilfer through the glove compartment until you spy what you think he’s looking for, holding it up in the air.

“Is this it?”

Joel grins widely, holding his hand out for it. “Atta girl! Nudge her along in the right direction and she just might surprise ya.”

“Yeah, yeah, you already know I’m a quick study,” You brag, crouching down to his level by the front tire.

Joel’s gaze falls over you as he rhythmically thuds the metal shaft of the gauge into the palm of his hand, scanning you up and down with that telltale look that he always seems to get with you. “That I do. That I fuckin’ do.”

And god knows why, but you can feel your cheeks heating up, and you’re fairly positive it has nothing to do with his coat on your shoulders.

Joel takes it from there, showing you each step of the process as he goes, since, in his words, if he’s gonna be your daddy, he might as well teach you a thing or two.

In what feels like no time, your tires are pumped and the light on your dashboard flickers off, much to your relief.

“Thanks,” You force out when the job is done, sitting on the hood of your car as Joel wipes his hands on his jeans, still not showing any signs of the cold getting to him and his broad as fuck figure.

“Welcome,” He offers back, reclining against the hood next to you. “You ever need help with this fucker, you come to me first. Don’t want you gettin’ ripped off by some shop when they see a sexy young thing like you who don’t know shit about cars.”

“I dunno. Seem to be able to get whatever I want with just my body. I might never have to pay for something a man’s selling ever again.” You peek over at him with a smirk, just to find that his eyes are already on you, lust glazing over them.

“Hell, might not even need to flash him anything. Just wear his goddamn clothes.”

You snort, but draw his coat in tighter on you against the chill.

“You know, I added a li’l somethin’ to the stockroom I think you’d like.”

You raise your eyebrows at him. “What, some increased hygiene?”

Joel breathes out a laugh and pushes off the car, jerking his head toward the store as he walks. “Come see, sexy girl.”

He’s most of the way to the front door before you swallow your pride and follow.

—

“Wow.”

“You like it?”

“Sure is something.”

The tiny, lumpy, floral-upholstered loveseat is crammed in the back of the crowded room, the swooping wood paneling on the front of the arms deeply chipped and scuffed to hell. It looks like someone’s dead grandmother’s old couch that got left on the curb.

That’s probably exactly what it fucking is, from your perception and expectations of Joel so far.

Joel’s breath raises the hackles on the back of your neck as his firm hands slide his coat from your shoulders and he whispers in your ear, “You wanna give the old thing a whirl?”

You swallow thickly, the memory of Joel’s massive cock throbbing in between your legs as his hands grab your hips, his mouth sucking at your neck.

“Joel,” You sigh, your eye falling closed as your head drops to the side to grant him more of your skin.

Joel tuts disapprovingly as his fingers flex at your waist. “You know what to call me, little girl. ‘Specially after I was so generous in teachin’ you somethin’.”

The tips of Joel’s fingers tease at the seam of your cunt through your leggings, and your jaw drops in a gasping moan, “Daddy.”

“Good girl,” He encourages, using two fingers to stroke up the expanse of your pussy over the fabric. “Tell Daddy Joel what you want.”

“Want your cock, daddy,” You moan, rolling your hips against his fingers and pulling a sharp intake of breath when the sides of his fingers pinch at your clit. “Please,” You add on for good measure.

Joel groans in your ear, the tip of his tongue tracing the shell as he begins to disrobe you. “You want this big fuckin’ horsecock ticklin’ your fuckin’ tummy, naughty girl?”

The cold from outside has absolutely nothing on the fucking shiver that runs down your spine at his words. Your lips feel chapped as you slide your tongue over them and breathe out, “Yes, please.”

As Joel ravages your neck, your clothes slump to the floor one by one until he has you startlingly naked in comparison to his fully clothed form. He shoves you playfully in the direction of the sofa, and you flop onto it on your back, draping one leg over the top of the couch and the other hanging off the edge to spread yourself open as wide as possible for him.

“Jesus, Mary, and fuckin’ Joseph,” Joel rasps at the sight of you as he wrangles his cock out of his pants. “Fuckin’ hell I’ve been missin’ out on this view. Goddamn animal shelter ain’t never seen this much pussy.”

“Please just fuck me,” You moan, dipping your hand between your legs to rub at your clit.

Joel growls at that sight too, and practically dives headfirst onto the couch and between your thighs. His mouth latches over your lips and clit, shaking his head rapidly back and forth like he’s attempting to motorboat your cunt.

A wanton cry pushes out your throat as he licks broad strokes over your sensitive flesh. When he comes up for air, he’s panting against your stomach, a blazing fire in his eyes.

“You keep these legs spread wide open for me, darlin’. Wanna watch this little slit stretch.”

“God, yes, I need it,” You whine, using your fingers to part your lips and give him full access.

“Oh, she needs it now, does she? She needs daddy’s big cock rippin’ her open?”

“Yes,” You whimper as the thick head of his cock skates up and down the length of your core, soaking it embarrassingly quick.

“Swear to god this little snatch looks tinier and tinier each time I see it, don’t matter how much I stretch it out. Just snaps right back like a bad habit, don’t it?”

“I like that,” You insist, your voice kicking higher as he starts to tease you on his downstrokes, pushing the tip of him into your opening with the barest amount of pressure, and popping right back out to rub it against your clit with the additional slick. “Like that it stretches me every time.”

“Not so scared of it anymore, are ya?” Joel points out, smacking the length of you with the length of him in increasingly wet thumps against your pussy.

“No. Love it, daddy,” You whisper into the musty room, fingers scratching against the hideous upholstery on the arm of the soft above your head. “Please put it in.”

He doesn’t disappoint, lifting your ass onto his thighs as he positions himself at your entrance. That familiar grunt floods the room as he pushes inside you for the first time tonight, his lips pouted open in pleasure as your body lets him in. “Shit, baby. Already chokin’ daddy just right. Look at that pretty stretch,” He moans, admiring the strain of your cunt wrapping around his giant cock.

You keen at the stretch, how could you not, even after the third time. It prickles and stings along the thin flesh that encompasses him in the fucking best way, the pain vibrating to your clit as he pushes in to the hilt and you feel his thatch of curls smashing into your slick folds.

He doesn’t let you adjust for long before he’s pulling all the way out, the head of his cock catching on your stretched pussy. “Such a slutty, fucked out little hole already, baby,” He groans, lining himself up once more as he slams all the way into you again to hear you shout for him.

“Fuck, fuck, god, fuck me,” You plead, doing what you can to meet his thrusts as they gain speed, peeling you open for his taking.

You can see your vision going unfocused, forcing your senses to feel him instead as your body clings to him, begging him to stay tearing you apart.

A racket suddenly starts up outside the door, like someone yelling and pounding on glass, and you both startle, heads whipping toward the door.

“Fuck,” Joel spits, wrenching his cock out of you with a wet squelch and dancing on his feet as he zips up his jeans in a rush. “Don’t fuckin’ move,” he instructs as he hobbles through the door, shutting it securely behind him.

You whine to yourself and do your best to distract your mind from your aching pussy clenching around the abrupt nothingness, the gaping cavity left by his unjustly huge cock, and strain an ear to assess what is happening outside the room.

“Jesus fuck, can’t a man take a leak in peace?”

“I need gas! What, this ain’t a fuckin’ gas station after 2 AM?”

“Then pay with a goddamn card at the pump, ya broke bastard.”

You hear more muffled altercation, the ding of Joel’s register, and the chime of the front door. Then heavy footsteps leading to the door until his hulking frame fits the doorway, sealing the two of you in again into your grimy paradise.

“Sorry, darlin’. Duty callin’. Hope your little hole didn’t shrivel up in the meantime,” He prattles as he heads back over to you, pulling his still-hard cock from its confines once more.

“Just put it back in,” You sigh, your head falling back into the lumpy cushion.

“Ain’t gotta tell me twice, dirty girl.”

His knees indent the couch again on either side of you as he sinks down and guides his cock back into you. He grunts a deep, low sound as your heat envelops him again. “Nah, still fuckin’ perfect for me. Clampin’ down on my big pecker just right. I know my girl, know just how she squeezes and creams around me.”

“Not your girl,” You pant out as his pace picks up right where he left off, hammering into you like you’ve done him an unkindness.

“Y’are when you’re impaled on my cock like this, darlin’,” He grits out, his hips swinging, smacking back and forth into you like a pendulum. “Ain’t no other word for it but mine. Daddy’s filthy little girl.”

“Oh, fuck,” You squeak out as the head of Joel’s cock smashes against that golden spot inside of you, your head arching back in ecstasy with your neck on full display. Joel growls, stealing the opportunity to bite into your neck, like a dog with a chew toy, like he wants to tear you apart. You moan as you feel the blunt of his teeth on your flesh, denting the side of your neck. “Fuck, give it to me, daddy,” You whine, sufficiently lost inside the pleasure this man arouses in you against your better judgment.

“That’s right,” Joel rasps, his hot breath melting into your skin as he nips at your jaw, “Let daddy have it. Let daddy have all of it.”

You can feel your eyes lazing into the back of your head as his cock continues to punish your g-spot, your tongue hanging out of your mouth as you heroically claw for each breath that Joel seems to be sucking out of you with every stifling press of his cock through your walls.

You’ve never been a match for him, for his massive length, even from the get-go. From the time he sent you hurtling into the first orgasm you’d had on his cock in this same backroom, overwhelmed by such all-engrossing pleasure that you weren’t even sure what it was until your pussy was begging him to stop, to give you a sensory break to analyze what the fuck had just happened. With your tits that you’d flashed him in public mere minutes prior hanging out for his enjoyment, your pliant body bent over a box, and his cock shoved so deep up your cunt it felt like he was taking a self-guided tour of every organ you house within your skin and bones.

No, you’ve never been a match for him, but he still manages to set you ablaze each time you strike against him, stretch open on him. And goddamn it, he makes it feel like you fit. Like he fits inside you, like you fit together.

You fucking hate it. You fucking crave it.

You dig your heels into his ass, a feral scream ripping from your throat as you wordlessly demand more, a concept that you never could have fathomed after that first time. Wanting, needing more from this mountain of a man with his paralyzing cock.

“Yes, fuck yeah, bitch. Let me fuckin’ hear you. Let me hear how fuckin’ insane this cock makes you. How cock drunk I got you when you’re split open on daddy’s dick. Spit it in my fuckin’ face,” He rants, nails digging into your shoulder blade as he pulls you down onto his length to meet his punishing, rewarding thrusts.

Your throat feels raw, beat to hell like the dripping hole between your legs, but you can’t stop screaming for more, tears welling and falling at some instance you can’t pinpoint, but now your face is wet and calling out for him. The “daddy”s and “please”s and “your cock”s rattling, singing off your tongue like sacred psalms for him.

Until you feel the greedy grasp of your orgasm wrenching apart your insides, clinging to his cock like a final lifeline as the remainder of your body splinters into fractions.

“Yes, baby, yeah, fuckin’ come for me. So fuckin’ pretty fallin’ apart on daddy’s cock. That’s fuckin’ right,” He grinds out, fucking into your body until it goes limp from exhaustion. “Open up for Daddy Joel’s come, darlin’. Take every fuckin’ drop,” He growls, finally screeching to a halt as his own release overtakes him, balls deep inside your waiting cunt.

You feel the flood of him, pumping you full and somehow seeping out from the iron clutch of your cunt around him. You already feel him dripping onto the christened couch, and selfishly, senselessly, you hope that it’s the first time for the furniture, at least from Joel’s doing. Logic would argue the contrary, but in your post-orgasm haze, you suddenly loathe the idea of anyone else feeling this goddamn good at this man’s mercy.

“Just like that. Let me breed that little snatch,” He purrs into your ear, the grate of too many cigarettes vibrating from his throat into your already buzzing bloodstream. And fuck wouldn’t that be a concept. Allowing Joel to ingrain a part of himself inside you so deeply that it eventually becomes sentient. A living creature sprouted from pure, unadulterated lust.

You don’t want it. You don’t want kids. At least not now, with him. But shit, you need this man to swallow you whole. You don’t know how else to get there.

But how the fuck did you even get here? Full to bursting with a carnal need for this…menace. This grubby, inappropriate, sleazy sack of…trouble. Loads and loads of trouble. And load after load of his…

Fuck.

As the devil speaks, Joel’s spent cock wriggles out of you, slick and coated with the pair of you and what you’ve done, over and over again now. No longer a one-off or a let’s just test if it was as good as the first time. You’re a repeat fucking offender now. The flow of his come trickling out of your ransacked pussy more than just a memory, but an expectation.

You run a heavy hand down your face and then bury it in your hair with leaden eyelids concealing the shame within them. Thick fingers drag up the seam of your cunt, press inside you with the escaped rivulets of Joel’s spend, fuck into your stretched hole with disarming tenderness as he plants every bit of himself within you as he can, despite the barriers you have firmly in place rendering his actions moot.

“Don’t wanna waste it,” He mutters, voice thick and deep with his own post-orgasm sluggishness. Wetness presses against your lips, and you give no thought before opening them for him, the weight of his digits monumental on your tongue as you suck your shame off of them with concave cheeks.

Your spit tracks down your chin with the drag of his fingertips along it as he frees them from your mouth. You’re vaguely cognizant of them drifting down your neck, between your breasts, over your stomach before he mumbles a “Don’t move,” for the second time tonight. You’re just as unwilling to disobey as you were the first time, only it’s the bonelessness in your limbs that fosters it now, rather than that bone-deep longing. So you allow your eyes to rest as they have been.

His presence is gone from the couch for less than a minute before he’s straddling your thighs again. You jump involuntarily when you feel a light tug on your skin under your belly button and above your mound, of something slightly cooler than the temperature of your skin. You lift your head from the sofa in lazy curiosity, to find the tip of Joel’s tongue peeking out of the corner of his mouth and a Sharpie in his hand, scrawling on your skin.

“Joel, what—”

“Shh, I want it to be legible. I got notoriously shit chicken scratch.”

You give a brief whine, but drop your head back and remain steady, letting the pull and drag of the marker hypnotize you into a peaceful contentment.

“Alright. You can look.”

You lift your head again, but you can’t quite make it out. You prop yourself onto your elbows and see, “Daddy Joel’s Pussy” with an arrow pointing directly down to your cunt in sharp but still notably sloppy handwriting. Undeniably Joel in a charming sort of way.

Your eyes widen, and you flop back onto the couch. “Jesus Christ, Joel.”

“Don’t like it?” He says, a smirk in his voice. “Lemme do somethin’ else. This is fun.”

“You need to get back out there,” You argue, indicating toward the door.

“I don’t gotta do nothin’. ‘Less someone starts bangin’ down the door again.”

Joel’s tongue darts out once more as the marker bleeds on the curve of your breast. This time you watch every stroke, every line, until you see “Joel’s Slut” adorning your skin, one word inked over each nipple in his terrible penmanship.

“This is gonna be such a fucking pain to get off,” You grumble as Joel eagerly, with almost a childlike intrigue, continues to sketch over your torso. “Just please not anywhere visible.”

“Roger, Roger,” Joel mumbles absentmindedly, transfixed on his next art installment between your breasts. This one he finishes quicker, and you see why when you glance down. It’s a crude dick and balls, the head pointing upwards toward your neck, nestled right in your cleavage, with scattered tiny lines you guess are meant to represent a cumshot.

“Fucking hell, Joel…”

“You ever seen what a sternum looks like on one of them diagrams? Looks like a fuckin’ cock,” He imparts, a youthful glow on his face, like pride at his cleverness.

“Yeah, I’ve seen it, smartass. But if we’re going with actual anatomy, the figurative balls would be at the top and the figurative dick would be pointed down,” You lecture, vague memories of the subject surfacing in your brain that, admittedly, you also only remember because you thought it looked like a downward facing dick when you learned about it.

“Don’t spoil my fuckin’ fun with your facts,” He scowls, a crease between his brows as the marker drags over your abdomen. “I like that it looks like I’m squirtin’ a load on your tits.”

“This is so fucking stupid, Joel,” You protest, laughter in your voice.

“Shut your slutty little mouth and let me play.”

With your bones still feeling like jello, you let him. The minutes tick by until Joel announces proudly, “There. You’re a fuckin’ masterpiece.”

You hazard another look down, and your torso is covered in ink.

Daddy’s Bitch

Golden Gash

Cocksleeve

Gutterslut

Gas Station Hooker

A myriad of other disgusting sentiments plastered in big, bold letters, etched on your skin in permanent marker. You groan, throwing a hand over your face. “Jesus, Joel.”

“Lemme get a picture. You look so pretty.”

You peek through your fingers to find Joel standing over you, his phone poised at his artwork. You cover your face as thoroughly as you can, doing what you can to avoid associating your face with your body as he snaps his photos.

“Fuck, I’m gonna bust a nut over these later. Maybe two,” He moans as he slips his phone into his pocket and paws at your tits, squeezing them together and pinching at your nipples.

You slap a hand down at him to shoo him off and start pulling on your clothes. “Hope you had your fun. I’m gonna make sure this shit is gone by the next time,” You insist, studying down yourself just to ensure no marks are showing through your clothes.

“So we’re sayin’ ‘next time’ now, are we?”

You look back at Joel who is very smugly seated back on the couch, manspreading with the best of them as his face beams.

“Shut up,” You mutter, fixing what you can of your hair.

“Gimme your number, sugartits. I think I’ve earned that.”

“Yeah fucking right,” You scoff, but Joel is holding out his phone insistently. You stare at it for a long moment before sighing and snatching it from him. You consider giving him a fake number, but the incessant ache between your thighs keeps you honest. You toss it back into his lap. “There. Don’t make me fucking regret it.”

“Haven't regretted him yet from what I’ve gathered,” He chides, grabbing his crotch obscenely as you roll your eyes.

“Go do your fucking job. I’ll see you around maybe,” You throw noncommittally at him as you make your way out, trying to purge that look of smug pride on his face, the existence of your naked, graffitied body on his phone, from your memory. “And…thanks. Again,” You tack on as you walk backward out the door for a couple of steps, seeing him give you a wink as you turn back around.

The second you settle into your car, your phone buzzes with a text from an unknown number. You heave a heavy sigh and open it.

An image, the exact image you’d been trying to forget, of your naked, graffitied body, with your face masked by your hands. Accompanied with one word.

“Mine.”

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hearts4renaa · 1 year

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OH MY, LOVE IS A LIE!

summary: it's all over now, but he's still thinking of you. featuring alhaitham, diluc, kamisato ayato, and zhongli. part 2 to you're losing me.

w/c: 2.1k in total a/n: i am really churning out angst for yall. inspired by hits different by taylor swift

I find the artifacts, cried over a hat. Curse the space that I needed.

“There’s no way you still have that.” Kaveh comments as he walks past Alhaitham in their little library of the home. Kaveh looks at the small crystal in the scholar's hands, cringing.

Alhaitham glares at the blonde. “Shut it.” He grumbles, twirling the gem in between his fingers. He intended to give it to you over dinner, as an apology for the stunt he pulled two weeks ago. The guilt took over his body like a fever. He was sleepless for a few nights, and you slept in the guest bedroom. Eventually, he drew to a conclusion. The two of you had been dating for quite a while; maybe it’s time to take it to the next step.

He invited you to a proper dinner that night, and you accepted despite the growing tension between the two of you. Unfortunately for him, he didn’t realize the two of you had very different plans for that night. He was there to take it further. You were there to end it.

Kaveh’s scoff takes Alhaitham out of the depths of his memory. “Don’t you have better things to do than nag me?” Alhaitham spit out. “Pay your rent, perhaps?”

Kaveh rolls his eyes, crossing his arms. “It’s crazy how you’re talking to me how you talked to them.” A glare made its way into his amber eyes. “Thought you would’ve learned to watch your choice of words after what happened.”

Alhaitham had no rebuttal. He knew Kaveh was right. He didn’t think his words or actions carried much weight until you were crushed under them. His words and actions chipped away at what he loved until eventually, nothing was there at all. How did he not notice? How did he not see the storms in your eyes? How did he not hear the tiredness in your voice? How could he let you fight for the relationship alone, while he stood on the sidelines as it withered to nothingness? His eyes redirect from Kaveh to the gem in his hands. It’s like he can still see your face in the reflection. Like the love was still there, shimmering and sparkling the same way the gem did in the afternoon sun.

“And yes, I do have better things to do.” Kaveh says, walking towards the entrance of the house. “I’m heading to lunch with a friend of mine.” A knock pierces their conversation, effectively saving Alhaitham from having to face the harsh truth from Kaveh of all people. “Ah, they’re here!” Kaveh leaves the library entirely, leaving Alhaitham in the room alone. He hears the front door open. “Y/N!” Kaveh greets. Alhaitham freezes.

What the fuck?

“Just one second, I forgot something in the study.” He hears Kaveh say, and footsteps are fast approaching. Kaveh retrieves his left behind item, but not before Alhaitham stops him. The grip he has on Kaveh’s forearm is almost painful.

“What the hell?” Alhaitham’s voice is bitter. Jealous, even.

Kaveh yanks his arm away. “Just because you lost the love of your life Y/N doesn’t mean I have to lose my friend Y/N.” Kaveh’s voice is firm. Soon enough, he’s walking away and out the door.

Alhaitham feels the sorrow truly kick in. All the times he asked for space from you. All the time he could’ve spent with you. Now, the space between the two of you was farther than ever before. And he can’t do anything but look at the gem in his hand, wishing he could run to you more than ever.

I trace the evidence, make it make some sense, why the wound is still bleeding?

He won’t admit it, but Diluc’s hands were beginning to ache from the endless action of polishing the glasses. He insisted on working the bar tonight, letting the usual bar staff have some well deserved rest. Peering down, Diluc takes the time to examine the many scars on his hands. They were dotted on his skin, and they all held a story. A burn. A scab he kept picking at. An accidental cut. Either way, they all had an experience leading up to each wound.

He realizes how much of a hypocrite he is. Scolding you for wanting the adventure, for getting a minor injury as if he doesn’t do ten times more fighting than you did. Worried endlessly for your safety, as if he doesn’t risk his life on the daily. Diluc has faced many wounds over his life, but the worst one he’s experienced was losing you.

The breakup wasn’t dramatic. The two of you sat across from each other next to the fire, and you told him of how you lost the love. Of how the flame burned so slowly than it burned out. The two of you agreed to end things together; at least, that’s what you think. He didn’t lose anything. His flame still burns as brightly as it did in the beginning. Perhaps his flame burned so bright that it overtook yours. You packed your things and left Dawn Winery. He saw you off with a polite wave, but the moment the door shut, the dam burst and the tears flowed.

Now here he was, without you, repeating a stupid polishing action until the door opened. There you were, with the Traveler and Venti of all people. It’s awkward for a moment, both of your eyes darting around to avoid the other’s. Eventually, the three of you get a table to sit at. As your group passes by, he hears the Traveler quietly say something to you. “Sorry, Y/N. I didn’t think he’d be working today.” He hears you laugh. Oh, how he wishes he was the source.

“Don’t worry about it,” You say. “I’m basically over him.”

Diluc feels a sting in his chest, and he has to stop himself from dropping the glass in his hand. That hurt. He certainly wasn’t over you. The night passes, and you are engaged in conversation. Diluc takes the chance to steal fleeting glances in your direction.

The weapon on your back has more wear and tear. Your bag looks heavier, more used. He sees minor scars on your skin. A few on your arm, one on your cheek, some on your calves. It takes everything in him to not fret over you, but he knows he can’t. You’re not his to lose anymore. But most of all, Diluc sees the way you exude light. Cheer radiates from you, and he doesn’t think he’s ever seen you more beautiful than you were right now.

You may bear more scars than when you were with him, but he’s never seen you happier.

You were the one that I loved! Don’t need another metaphor, it’s simple enough.

Ayato runs a hand through his hair while walking the streets of Inazuma City. He was on the way to a wedding attire fitting, for his wedding to another Inazuman noblewoman. The wedding isn’t for another month, so it’s crucial to ensure that all clothing is prepared and ready to allow ample time for unforeseen circumstances. On the way to his appointment, Ayato passes by a familiar restaurant. He softly smiles, remembering how he used to visit often. Then, his smile is replaced with a frown when he realizes he hasn’t been in two months. There was no reason for him to eat there anymore- he used to eat there with you.

He’ll never forget how puffy your eyes were when you broke things off with him. It was obvious you were crying, and with how the conversation was going, Ayato was about to cry too. “I can’t do this anymore, Ayato.” Your voice sounded exhausted. Ayato hated knowing he was the reason for your sleepless nights. He didn’t understand why he snapped at your skepticism over the arranged marriage. He couldn't, and wouldn’t ever imagine you marrying someone else. He understood. The problem is, he understood too late. Now, it’s been two months and he still doesn’t go a single day without thinking of you.

Finally, Ayato arrived at his destination. The tailors was a quaint little shop in a less busy corner of Inazuma, but many of the locals purchased ceremonial clothing from the owners. They’re said to have a very keen eye, even when it comes to choosing employees. Ayato slides the door open, and he is greeted by a worker.

“Welcome! Are you here for a fitting or-”

He could recognize that voice. There’s no way. His eyes widened at the realization, and you did too, seeing how your words trailed off.

“Y/N.” He breathed out your name as if he had been suffocating prior. You take a second to compose yourself before putting your professional facade back on. He is a customer. He is no more than that.

“Are you here for an appointment?” You ask.

Your formal tone throws him off. He remembers your cheery usual tone from back then, and he wishes nothing more than to go back to those times.

“Yeah.” He nods. “It’s…wedding attire.”

You feel your breath hitch in your throat. Of course, he’s still going forward with the marriage. After all, he made it clear that you have nothing to offer for the Kamisatos.You nod curtly before gesturing him to a fitting station. “Please allow me to grab my tools.” You give a small bow, ignoring eye contact. You turn away to head towards the shop’s tool drawer with measuring tapes and such. When you’re certain he cannot see your face, you allow your bottom lip to tremble slightly.

Meanwhile, Ayato’s eyes stay trained on your figure. For the two of you to break up, then have you be the person attending to him during the wedding fitting? The Seven must be laughing at him as he experiences this cruel twist of fate. Suddenly, it hits him. The two of you are part of each other’s past. It’s over. You aren’t in each other’s present lives, and you most likely won’t be part of each other’s futures.

You might be a stranger now, but he will forever recognize your voice in a sea of people.

A wrinkle in time, like the crease by your eyes. This is why they shouldn’t kill off the main guy.

“Who do you think the lucky one is?” The women of Liyue gossip. Their eyes are fixed on Zhongli, following him like a hawk. The man in question is shopping for flowers. However, he seems to be interested in the large bouquets of flowers, the ones far too large to be classified as “just felt like it” flowers. He takes his time to examine each flower thoroughly. He checks the stems, petals, if they’re fully bloomed. Uncommon than most men nowadays, Zhongli was truly looking at every factor while shopping for these flowers, which is why the women were so interested to know who they were for.

On Zhongli’s end, his senses were being absolutely bombarded with the signature floral scent. Zhongli’s taste in flowers only gets incredibly picky around this time of year. After all, the anniversary of your death is upcoming. He only wants the best flowers for you, since he couldn’t give you the best when you were still alive. If there’s one memory he’ll never forget, it’ll be how you still told him that you loved him, even in your final moments.

“Excuse me, are you looking for anything in particular?” A worker asks him.

Normally, he’d politely decline and continue about his day. But he can’t. Not when said worker looks identical to you. His eyes are wide, scanning the person up and down. Same hair, eyes, facial structure. If he didn’t know better, he’d think you were right in front of him. Unfortunately, Zhongli does know better. He knows that you are no longer alive. And he knows that he is the reason for your death.

He regains his composure. “I’m alright, thank you.” His smile is polite, but not sincere.

"Ah, alright. I’m sorry if this sounds weird but…” The worker started. “Are you doing alright? I’m sorry, I just felt like I had to ask you. Gut feeling, I guess.”

For a second time, Zhongli was taken aback, but he answered nonetheless. “Yes, just trying to find some nice flowers.” The worker smiled. It amazes Zhongli how much they look like you.

“Are you buying flowers for someone?” They ask.

“Yes,” Zhongli pauses. “They’re for someone who is very dear to me.”

The worker points to a bouquet. “How about this one, then? It’s one of my favorites.”

Zhongli smiles. They were your favorite too. He lets out a chuckle at the situation. He had always hoped to see you again, but he didn’t think you’d visit him like this. “That one looks great.” He responds.

He looks up at the sky, and he hopes you know that in every other universe, he would’ve chosen you.

#genshin x reader #zhongli x reader #diluc x reader #kamisato ayato x reader #alhaitham x reader #al haitham x reader #ayato x reader #genshin angst #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact #genshin #morax x reader

5K notes · View notes

sophvilla · 21 days

Text

Baby, is it gonna fit ?

⋆ ˚｡⋆ TXT SERIES ⋆ ˚｡⋆

Pairing: Bf! Soobin X Gf! Femreader

Synopsis: Soobin didn't know that he had a Size Kink at all, it all started Innocent but Deep down he Truly Knows that it's not Innocent at all.

Warning: Smut, MDNI, 18+, Size kink, Unprotected, Reader gets called ( Baby, Princess, My Love, Babygirl) etc.

CHOI SOOBIN | 최수빈

Soobin has a major size Kink....

It all started with how small and short you look beside his 6’1 frame, he is twice as taller then you and to which he somehow felt proud about it, comparing how small your hand are in comparison to his, huge hands then,

How small you looked in his Gigantic Shirt as he smiled like fool watching you drown in his clothes.

He didn’t think that something this innocent will become something so…..kinky,? But it actually did cause..

Whenever his cock was buried deep inside of your cunt all he can think of is how tightly you’re squeezing around his Length, watching how good you’re taking him with tears streaming down your face as you take inhuman thrust.

He watches as his cock disappear inside your that tight little hole that felt like a glove to cock, pounding inside your Sensitive pussy as you already cum for the second time, begging him that you can’t take it anymore to which he replies,

“ Yess you can, my love, ..take all that I’m giving you” as you dumbly nod at his words through your tears proving the fact how fucked out you are right now,

Continuing to abuse his cock inside your overstimulated pussy as it reaches your cervix making your eyes roll back at the stretch and pleasure you feel,

“God, you feel so good around me” Your boyfriend rasp out between his brutal pace of thrusts, You mumble out incoherent words between your moans of pleasure,

“ huh ..uh ….keep going-g” you said in between your hiccups as you feel yourself reaching your third orgasm of the night

“Fuck, look at you right now” He grins upon hearing your request and obliging to it immediately as his thrust turns more Deep and rhythmically harder into your cunt making a clapping sound of Skin Smacking against eachother, making you tremble at the newly set pace,

“you want to come, princess?”

“Y-yes, I- please---”

“Then cum for me babygirl, cum on my cock” Soobin says out of breath as he cums at the same time filling you up with his cum but doesn't stop with his thrust as he continues to fuck his cum into your sensitive pussy making you clench around his cock in an extremely tight grip.

His hips started to give desperate thrust into you, as one of his hands pulls your body even more closer then it was and the other hand pulling your hips closer to his as He started to grind his hip back and forth to yours causing even more friction then ever,

"fucking hell baby, you feel so fucking good." He grunts out, Head falling back as His hand let go of your hip and wrapping his hand around your delicate neck and start to fuck you even harder, in his head all he can think of how Fucking small you are compared to him, How he can easily break you, or How your small cunt is taking his huge cock,

Breaking away from his Trail of thought His eyes focus on yours at how you look on the verge of passing out,

Soobin's constant thrust of his hip inside you, making you too fucked out to even move from the mix of pain & pleasure that your receiving, all you can do is moan and scream at how good you feel right now,

With each thrust, you quite literally Screamed. Seems like you were too sensitive at this point. The sensation of him repeatedly slamming his hips against you turned you into a sobbing mess,

And when his climax exploded for the fourth time within you with one last powerful thrust, his hot cum spurting hard, stuffing you to the brim and painting your womb white— you clawed at him, tugged him closer to your breasts as a mix of scream and moan of his name escaped your lips, trembling at the depth to which he was burying himself inside you.

You were panting, totally spent, sensing the familiar way of his cum trickling down your thighs as Soobin lays inside of you, not pulling out immediately as his cock continues to breed his cum inside of your womb as Soobin gazes down to your flushed goddess like face,

" When did I get so lucky" Soobin mumbles while looking at your sleepy smile that you give him as you drift into slumber

897 notes · View notes

ilsanslut · 7 months

Text

TREAT YOU BETTER! [2]

♰ featuring: itoshi sae + itoshi rin [blue lock]

♰ note: do i even need to mention how anticipated this part was? i will mention though, that it did take me quite some time to write this and i tried to proofread it to the best of my ability, but i do apologize if there are some minor errors. lastly, sorry for putting it off for so long due to my hiatus, i hope you all enjoy!

sypnosis: the itoshi brothers punish you for your 'infidelity'. wc: 6.5k content/trigger warning(s): 18+. fem/fem-bodied reader. POST BLUE LOCK. rin is 19. sae is 21. sibling rivalry. implied thick/chubby!reader. EXTRA MEAN!RIN. possessive!rin. cocky!sae. bully!itoshi brothers. they are both assholes in this fic. PRIOR MENTIONS OF CHEATING. degradation. unprotected sex. fingering. squirting. rough sex. DUBIOUS CONTENT. spanking. dacryphilia. slut-shaming. groping. double-penetration. implied size kink. skull/throat-fucking. choking/borderline asphyxiation. minor angst. hair pulling. manhandling. breeding. excessive mentions of drool/spit + rin's focused mode. IMPACT PLAY (face slapping, tit slapping, cock/pussy slapping). basically, they really fuck you up but they swear it’s out of love. aftercare! ꒷꒦

view part one of TREAT YOU BETTER here: part one.

If purgatory was real, you were most certainly in it now. Penalized for your past life's sins and transgressions, you were chained and perched atop a platform before your accusers, between the heavens and the depths of hell. Except now, that platform was Rin’s bed, and the only eyes upon you were his and Sae’s—the latter of which continued to bore into your own as the rhythmic slapping of his hips against your ass refused to cease. And even now, there was that sickening twinkle in his eyes, full of sinister joy as he basked in the warped satisfaction of your psychological suffering. How lovely he found you, those plump tears streaming down your ruined cheeks—if he could, he would frame that photo for his foyer. How your plump brims continued to babble out pleas for him to stop, for him to slow down, to please let you catch your breath so that you could process the situation you found yourself in, but he didn’t. He wouldn’t. Not until you creamed around his cock in front of your pretty lil’ boyfriend, that is.

While you, on the other hand, were currently battling the inner turmoil the two demonic brothers were putting you through. In your head, Rin’s word’s played on a loop like a broken record, plagued to repeat that same damned phrase over and over again. ‘You told me you would wait, Nii-chan.’

They plotted against you, laid out the trap, and like the oblivious bunny you are, you stumbled right into the wolf’s den.

“Y’see this, Rinnie~?” Sae drawled breathlessly, using his free hand that wasn’t holding your hair to cup your jaw, manipulating your head in his sibling’s direction while he placed his chin atop your shoulder. Forced to once again meet the eyes of your lover, you would immediately notice the contemptuous and repulsed glare he used to stab into you like a searing, hot iron blade straight into your heart. But you could never miss the desire beneath his teal eyes—desire that almost turned his current enmity for you into lust. Should you venture to cast your eyes any lower, you would also observe the brewing tent inside his sweatpants, pushing the fabric to its absolute limit.

“What d’you think is making poor Y/N cry like this, hm? The fact that she’s been caught in her infidelity or this fat cock pummeling her tight cunt?” You could feel Sae’s wolfish grin against your flesh as he spoke, dragging sharp canines across the skin of your shoulder as his own teal oculars met his brother’s.

“Both.” Rin stated bluntly before his expression would twist sourly, his upper lip curling into a sneer while his eyes narrowed on you with malicious intent. “Though if I were to guess, I bet it’s your cock since she’s a little cockslut who can’t be satisfied with just one man’s dick.” He spat as he reached his hand up to undo the zipper on his windbreaker, pulling it down slowly to reveal his equally, if not more, built form than Sae’s.

“Oh~” Sae jeered much to your chagrin, slowing the pace of his hips so he could press himself flush against your ass and languidly hump his cock into you. Unfortunately, you were unable to keep your delighted mewls from slipping past your brims as his thick cock caressed your fluttering walls. “Y’hear that, princess? Even your boyfriend thinks that you’re a cock-addicted whore.” He used his grip on your hair and chin to mockingly shake your head back and forth, feigning pity in his tone to add more fuel to your smoldering fire.

He leaned into your ear, soft lips pressing right against your lobe as his teeth captured the soft flesh between his teeth, snarling lowly. “How d’you think he’d feel knowing that you were about to make a mess on my cock, huh?”

Amidst your whimpers and pleasured mewls, you frantically shook your head, trying your hardest to deny the accusation as Rin’s fixed glare on you only grew more scrutinizing. “M’not, m’not gonna—!” On the contrary, your body would deny your vehement retorts made prevalent by your quivering thighs, heightened moans, and the sinful way your walls clung to Sae's cock.

“Don’t fucking lie to me” Sae hissed in your ear, releasing his grip on your chin to quickly swat the fattened flesh of your breast, drawing a squeal from your lips. “Y’don’t think I can’t feel this greedy cunt sucking me in? Trying to milk me of everything I have, huh?”

“N-No! Ngh~! Sae, I-I can’t—”

Your cries were silenced when an opposing hand would soon grip your chin, forcing your gaze to meet the second set of teal eyes belonging to none other than Rin. He glowered down at you, his blunt nails digging into the soft flesh of your cheeks. Even with your strong reluctance to acknowledge it, Rin's intense gaze was enough to make you clamp harder around Sae.

“Cum on his cock, Y/N.” He ordered, his voice barely above a twisted growl. “It’s the only thing pretty sluts like you are good at, right?” His grip loosened for naught but a second to drag the pad of his thumb across your drooling and babbling brims. “Unless, you’re not . . . care to try and prove me wrong?”

You tried—you really, really tried—to hold back your orgasm, to prove Rin wrong, but the tantalizing way Sae pounded his length into you was intoxicating—tainting your mind with one need and one need only—your release. Your fists pounded against Sae's thighs behind you, trying to get midfeilder off of you, or at the very least to slow down—but it was futile. Your back rumbled from the vibrations in Sae's chest as he chuckled, his forearm caging itself around your neck and the crease of his other forearm pulling back his balled fist to effectively lock you in an unforgiving headlock, depriving your brain of precious oxygen. With your resolve all but diminished, you finally came undone before both your boyfriend and his elder brother.

All you could see was white as your vision blurred and your body seized as the coil in your tummy snapped, allowing your juices to flow out of you, fruitfully drenching both your and Sae's lower halves as well as the sheets beneath you. Your cries and pleas of euphoria filled the room, drowning out the lewd and now wet smacking sounds of Sae's pelvis against your ass, as well as he and his brother's mocking jeers. Without both of their grips on your body, you would have collapsed from the sheer intensity of it all, your body going limp as the ferocity of your orgasm nearly knocked you unconscious.

“Fuck yeah,” Sae groaned into your ear, though you were barely able to register it as he fucked you through your orgasm. “That’s it; that’s the stuff. Ngh, fuck. M’gonna cum too, gonna fill your pretty pussy to the brim.” He grunted as his thrusts grew sloppy from his impending orgasm.

But it never came. At least, not in the way you expected it.

At the last second before Sae finally came inside of you, your body cruelly hit the sheets as you were no longer supported by the strength of both men. On top of that, you suddenly felt horribly empty as the midfielder’s cock was wrenched out of you, leaving you to clench around nothing—though you were hardly in any state to utter a rebuttal.

In your daze, you heard the sounds of a struggle and Sae's enraged shout as you writhed between the sheets and something hot shot against your ass cheeks and lower back. Groggily, you mustered enough strength to push yourself up onto your elbows to glance over your shoulder, only to see a fucked-out and infuriated Sae forced back onto his haunches as Rin held his light auburn locks in a vice grip, equally, if not more, irate than his elder.

“What the fuck, Nii-chan.” Rin snarled, tugging Sae by his locks as if to enunciate his anger. “I thought we agreed that you weren’t allowed to cum inside of her, so what the fuck was that, huh?”

At first, Sae remained silent and merely opted to match Rin's glower with a quiet one of his own. Your weary eyes slid down, taking in his semi-hard cock that rested against his toned thighs, strings of yours and his arousal clinging to his girth, the thick lifts and falls of his chest, and the sweat trickling down his abs. Then your eyes shifted to Rin, where you noted the hardness of his angrily-clenched jaw, the furious downward pull of his thick brows over his captivating teal eyes, blazing with anger and betrayal, and the undeniable bulge that tugged at the material of his sweatpants.

The way your pussy clenched around nothing at the sight was unavoidable.

They were both too fucking hot for your own good.

“It’s not my fault that her greedy fuckhole wouldn’t let me go.” Sae snapped, smacking Rin’s fist from his locks. “And besides. . .” Something sinister arose on his features, tainting his expression with the need to torment the forward. “You heard her, didn’t you? She likes the way my cock fucks her more than yours anyway.”

You could hear a pin drop in the silence that followed after Sae’s bombshell of a statement. As you lay there, your heart raced, and a sense of unease washed over you, causing a pit of guilt to form in the pits of your tummy. Rin said nothing in response, staggering back from his brother with an incredulous and infuriated look before his face twisted into a maddened snarl, which Sae countered with a smug look. Had you looked even further, you could see the aura of their monstrous egos swirling around them, threatening to rip one another limb from limb.

“You motherfucker.” He growled, fists clenching with pure unadulterated rage as he lunged for his sibling yet again, only this time, you stepped in.

“Rin, stop!” You shouted, lunging forward to grab your boyfriend’s wrist before he could get his hands on Sae once more.

Rin's focus finally shifted to you, his eyes wide as clarity dawned on him for a moment, before the disdain and anger he felt for you at the time zeroed in on your form, immobilizing you where you kneeled. His fury was like a searing wave. It washed over you in that instant, and it was so intense that it made your knees weaken and your heart race. You’d seen him look at others like this before, but never directed at you before. His opponents, Isagi Yoichi, Shidou Ryusei, and even Sae on occasions, sure, but you? Never before in your life.

“You.” His tone was gutteral and animalistic, unlike anything you’d ever heard from Rin before.

Sae took advantage of the situation at that precise moment to slide off the mattress and out of dodge, but not before giving you a knowing wink and a sly look. Rin didn’t even seem to react to this. In fact, now that Sae was out of the picture, his arm dropped to his side, and you became the new target of his wrath.

It was as though you were peering into the eyes of a savage beast—of a starving lion who had finally cornered a gazelle who continuously fled and eluded the beast from her fate. Before you could react, Rin’s hands were on you, a strong hand wrapped around your neck to lift you from your haunches and into a proper kneeling position so that he could glower at you at eye level.

“Don’t you think for a second, Y/N, that you’re innocent in all of this.” He was seething, hissing through clenched teeth as you could feel his breath wafting over your frightened visage. “You know, the only reason that I returned home early from my jog was because Nii-chan told me that he had just arrived home? Do you know that it only took me ten minutes to come back after that?” You could feel his grip trembling in your veins, like he was holding himself back from lashing out at you further. "You mean to tell me that it only took him 600 seconds to strip you down and fuck you stupid on his cock in the mere minutes that he was here, huh? For you to forget your loyalty and love for me in only 10 minutes, Y/N?"

Tears that you hadn’t even realized had begun to spill streamed down your cheeks. Your heart ached with the knowledge that your actions had shattered trust and betrayed the trust of someone who had placed faith in you. In the midst of your tears, you struggled to find the right words to express the depths of your remorse. You wanted to take back your choices and undo the damage you had done, but you knew that you couldn't erase the past. It was far too late for that.

“But you know what,” Rin continued, his grip on your throat as well as his expression softening. “I’m not mad.” He whispered, his voice suddenly sincere. His hand left your neck entirely in favor of stroking your hair lovingly with his other caressing your cheek, a stark contrast to the unbridled wrath he had displayed toward you only moments before.

You blinked, dumbfounded. But you could not help but lean into his tenderness and crave his affection after such a strenuous situation, especially when he offered such gentle touches and words.

“Y-You’re not?” You whispered, your voice hopeful, as tears welded up in your eyes for a different reason now—out of joy.

Rin shook his head with the faintest of smiles on his face. “I’m not . . .” His tone remained soft, pressing a sweet kiss to your forehead that you found yourself falling into. Almost immediately, you were melting into him, graceful for your boyfriend’s compassion.

“I’m furious.”

In an instant, a switch had flipped, and once again, Rin turned the tables on you. Before you could respond, his fist became unbearably tight at the crown of your hair, pulling mercilessly at the roots before he tugged your gaze to meet his, ablaze with fury. Now, it was your turn to look betrayed as your pretty eyes widened with both incredulity and fear as you gaped at your lover and the sinister look in his eye.

“But don’t worry. I’m sure I’ll feel much, much better after I blow some steam off by using your pretty body.”

You could barely manage a squeal as you were soon manhandled atop Rin's bed until you were lying on your back with your head hanging over the edge. Your vision turned upside down, and you craned your neck to look up at Rin, who was busy ridding himself of his sweatpants and boxers until he was finally able to tug free his painfully hard cock right above your face. Your mouth watered at the sight of your lover’s well-endowed length at its full mast, thick, hot, and sweltering with a vein bulging along its otherwise smooth underside. His blushed tip drooled with pre, which he used to lube his hand as he pumped himself above you, unable to keep his gaze from wandering over your lewd, plump, and womanly body.

“Fuck,” He swore as he tossed his head back, allowing you to watch as his balls clenched and length twitched from the wave of pleasure that overcame him.

You noticed movement in the space between Rin's muscular thighs as you watched Sae sit in Rin's desk chair behind him, one arm resting on the arm rest while the other languidly stroked his semi-hard cock and one leg resting atop the other at the ankle. When he caught your gaze, he shot you a wolfish smirk, using your slick to roll his thumb around his reddened tip.

“Don’t look at me, princess. Look at your pretty boyfriend.”

At his command, your gaze rose, only to see Rin using his thumb to spread your lips and guide his cock into the warmth of your mouth. As you took inch by inch into your throat, you could hear your lover groaning above you, swearing something about you swallowing him down like it was nothing. Though it really wouldn’t be a punishment if he made things easy for you, would it?

Soon, he reached the hilt of your throat, and his balls were firmly nestled against your nose, allowing you to inhale his salty yet pleasant musk. Both of his large palms reached down to grab the sides of your head before his hips began to thrust himself in and out of your tight cavern, gradually picking up his pace until he was pistoning in and out of you without mercy. You spluttered and gagged, your eyes squeezing shut as you focused on breathing through your nose when you could as his balls pummeled relentlessly into your nose, making sure to smother you with his heavy orbs each time.

“Hngh, shit, Y/N!” Rin swore, his eyes torn between fixating on the sinful bounce of your large breasts from his unrelenting thrusts or the way his girth bulged your throat every time he bottomed out inside of you. “Taking this dick like it’s nothing, huh?” Rin hissed through clenched teeth as he grabbed both of your breasts in his palms and delivered merciless squeezes. “This is what sluts like you were made for, hm? Swallowing down cocks with no efforts, draining them of every last drop?” He paused, tossing his head back to groan as his balls churned beneath him. He had been pent up for so long that he knew he wouldn’t last any longer. “Never content with just one man’s dick inside of you, always craving more . . Fuck~!"

As 'effortlessly' as he described you accepting his length and brutish treatment, you still needed to breathe, which was proving to be an impossible task as his thrusts became more animalistic and sloppy. The harsh sounds of his tip bullying the end of your throat resonated off of the room, the wet “glrk, glrk, glrks” filling your ears and making your cheeks burn at the vulgarity of it all. Your hands reached up to his muscular thighs, seeking purchase from his lethal thrusts, only to have both of your wrists seized in one large hand and pinned atop your breasts. His other hand went to your nose and tightly pinched it, effectively stopping your only source of life—breathing—and adding to his savagery. The distinct pleasure moans he once emitted had devolved into almost feral snarls and grunts, as if you were being ravaged by a beast rather than your typically stoic boyfriend.

“Take it, fuckin’ take it.” He spat as his hips stuttered. Then, without warning, he pressed himself against your face, the base of his cock hilting at your lips as his balls smushed flush against your nose, further deepening your struggle to breathe. You soon found yourself preoccupied with not choking as Rin's hot, steaming cum shot down your throat, forcing you to swallow it all down. That did not stop you from flailing beneath Rin, though, and he effortlessly wrangled you down and made you take rope after rope of his seed into your spasming throat.

You whined aloud, attempting to yell out to him that if he didn’t let up, you were about to pass out, but it was clear that he didn’t give a damn if you remained conscious or not. That is, until a few more agonizing seconds passed and black spots started to obscure your vision when Rin freed himself from your throat, his semi-hard shaft hanging over your face with strings of your saliva and his seed still clinging to his length.

You gasped for air, greedily gulping down sweet, sweet breaths of pure oxygen, and your lungs were more than thankful for the reprieve. Despite your blood pumping furiously in your ears, you could still make out the sound of a chuckle from behind Rin, belonging to none other than Sae.

“Damn, Rinnie. I thought you were going to kill her.” He snickered, still lazily stroking at his dick, which twitched in his palm when your eyes met yet again.

But there was no use concentrating on him, because Rin retreated a few steps and blocked your view once more. Looking up at him with your thoroughly ruined visage, you nearly gasped at the untamed lust swimming within his eyes. It was the same expression he would have when his ego took over on the field—hungry and damn near starving.

“Not yet.”

You felt rough hands grabbing at your body again, tossing you about as though you were a ragdoll, until you found yourself in an all-too-familiar position on your hands and knees. Those same hands seized at your plump hips and snatched you back until your ankles hung off of the bed, forcing a squeal to rip from your lips. Your hips jumped as Rin's blunt cock tip touched your clit, and your toes curled as he gave you several sharp smacks of his cock to your cunt.

“R-Rinnie.” You whimpered, casting a sidelong glance at him, your mouth slightly open in defiance of his actions, pleading for a break, if only to catch your breath before he pummeled you until you couldn’t see straight. However, your voice was cut short when you felt his hands seize a handful of your hair and tug at your head until your back was hard against his chest.

“Sluts don’t talk, Y/N.” He spat against your cheek. “They moan, get their pussies used, their throats fucked, and only say, 'Yes, sir, give me more.’ Do you understand me?”

You nodded silently, knowing that trying to talk sense into his head when he was acting this way was a fruitless endeavor.

“Good girl.” His lips brushed against your cheek in a fleeting kiss. “I don’t want to hear another word out of your mouth unless it’s begging me for me, understood?”

With the knowledge that answering out loud would be foolish, you nodded once more, suppressing a startled cry as he quickly brought you back down into his sheets, pressing your back into an almost painful arch with his hand planted firmly on your head. Rin seized his cock and sank it inch by inch into your tight cunt, evoking deep, guttural keens from you both without saying another word. He gave you a breathy, arousing laugh that curled your toes. He couldn’t believe that after all of this, your pretty pussy still proceeded to greedily suckle his cock as though it just couldn’t get enough.

He gave you no time to respond before he launched into his ferocious pace, pouring all of his anger, contempt, and hatred toward you into your abused hole in a way that left you feeling nothing but pure euphoria. Shouts and high-pitched cries of pleasure tore from your throat against your better judgment, partially muffled by the sheets he forced your head into. Your head was spinning, and your thoughts were focused only on how deliciously Rin pounded into you. His cock's mouth-watering curve made your thighs tremble and your knees weaken beneath you as he relentlessly pounded into your sweet spot. Observing your shaking limbs, Rin steadied your hips with both of his hands, using his improved grip to thrust more deliberately into your cunt, his thick girth bottoming out inside of you each time.

“Look a’that” Rin drawled breathlessly amidst the rhythmic clapping of his pelvis against your ass, the vulgar bouncing off of the walls. “My dick is so good you just can’t shut the fuck up, huh?”

“Ah, yes, yes, God, yes, Rin~!” You babbled, unable to stop the tears of ecstasy that squeezed from your pretty eyes.

“—But you love Nii-chan’s dick more than mine, right?”

Suddenly his ferocious pace turned into lackadaisical humps, ruining what immense pleasure had been building up within you and corrupting your mind with the need for more. You whined, one partially in desperation and the other in frustration. You moved your hips, trying to fuck yourself on Rin's cock, while craning your neck to get a better look at your boyfriend. Rin was no idiot, though. Having already sensed your intentions, his grip steeled on your hips, preventing you from moving further, much to your vexation.

“Ah, ah, Y/N.” Rin chided, the faintest hint of a smug smirk tugging at the corners of his lips with his eyes narrowed in amusement. He firmly pressed your ass against his hips, circling his length inside of you with agonizingly slow hip rotations that taunted you with just enough stimulation that it left you mewling for more. “Answer me first, you needy bitch.” A gleam of sadism twinkled in his eye, making your heart lurch in his chest at how closely he resembled his brother.

“N-No, God, Rin.” You whispered breathlessly, shaking your head in an attempt to think clearly amidst your cockdrunk haze. However, each subtle rotation of his hips against your ass stirred your thoughts in a way that only muddied them further. “I love your cock more, I-I swear—”

“—So you’re a cheater, a whore, and a dirty little liar, Y/N?”

Your breath hitched in your throat, pushing yourself up from the mattress to now see Sae standing in front of you, glowering down at you with the same, if not more, sadistic gleam in his eye. Not daring to break your gaze from his own, you watched through your peripheral vision as his fists pumped his hard shaft only mere inches away from your face.

“Here I was, thinking you had more shame than this.” Sae huffed, clicking his tongue as his thumb stroked over your swollen bottom lip. “Yet here you are, so desperate for yet another cock in your drooling fuckhole that you’d do anything—even lie—just to relive the feeling of having what’s left of your pretty lil’ brains fucked out, right?”

“I—I . . .”

Resonably, you were at a loss for words, but there was no need to worry as Rin spoke up for you, “And you can’t even answer him? Pathetic. I bet if we let all of those lukewarm fuckfaces from Blue Lock run a train on you, you’d love every second of it, huh, princess?” He further accentuated his point with a hard, trained thrust deep into your womb. You swear he even grazed your cervix.

“No, no! I-I only want you, Rin. I only want you, I love you!”

You squeezed your eyes shut, and, although you were oblivious to it, the brothers shared a look with one another. Their silence was deafening, and even Rin’s hips had stilled within you. However, before you were able to voice your confusion, you would feel sharp, phallic taps against your cheek. You didn’t even have to open your eyes to know what it was.

“Good girl.” Sae cooed condescendingly as though he were talking to a mutt worthy of praise.

“Probably the most truthful statement you said all night,” Rin followed, albeit far quieter than his sibling as his thrusts once again resumed, drawing tantalizing moans from your lips. “Then tell me after this, which one of us fucks you better, yeah? And don’t you dare.” He paused, using his large hand to rain down a set of smacks on both of your pillowy ass cheeks forcing a cry to rip from your lips. “Dream of lying to me.”

You nodded as best you could against the force of Sae pressing his cock against your face, using his thumb to hold his length taut as he literally fucked your face with it. Immediately, Rin’s brutal pace resumed again. Using his newly acquired leverage and his bruising grip on your hips, he pressed his foot against the mattress next to your knee and proceeded to fuck himself deeper into you. It felt like he was trying to pry you open with each thrust. Had it not been for Sae taking the opportunity to shove his cock into your mouth the moment you opened it to muffle your cry of ecstasy, you were certain that the neighbors would’ve thought you were being murdered.

In a way, though, it was almost like you were.

It was like you were being sandwiched between two killers, only instead of making you feel agony, they were both hellbent on delivering the most utmost pleasure to you—Rin rearranging your guts from behind and Sae feeding you inch after inch of his thick cock, neither one of them stopping until they were satisfied with having your belly pumped full of their cum.

My, the Itoshi brothers were truly the devil, weren’t they?

“Hngh, fuck. F-Fuck!” Rin snarled from behind you, his once quiet moans now morphing into beastly grunts and animalistic growls. You were certain that the blunt tips of his nails were now slicing into you from his strength, one of his hands dragging down your lower back to leave reddened marks in their wake until they marked your rippling ass, which was soon pelted with a few more furious swats.

“Stupid cumslut, grippin’ me so fuckin’ tight.” His voice grew raspy as his head tossed back in euphoria, carnal pants and heaves ripping from his throat so frequently that it almost did feel like you were being ravaged by a beast.

It was to the point where Sae's cock was slipping out of your mouth in favor of his palms holding your cheeks, and turning your head to look over your shoulder at your lover. Though still as eager for his release as Rin was, he continued to thrust his cock lazily against your face and pillowy brims.

“My god, princess. Look at what you’re turning him into.”

It was a sight to behold—one that you had only witnessed for yourself once before at the Blue Lock vs. U-20 game. Rin’s brows were raised, and his teal oculars were wide, swirling with untamable lust and desire as though he were being consumed by it. His lips were parted, his jaw dropped partially as his tongue dangled out of his mouth, and globs of crystalline drool pooled over his pink muscle, oozing down his chin and onto your abused cheeks below. He wasn’t looking at you. (You don’t know if you would be able to handle it if he did.) Instead, his gaze engrossed itself in the way your ass plapped against his pelvis, the sticky lines of your juices, and his drool connecting the two of you in a way that was beyond intimate. He was intoxicated, thoroughly pussy-drunk as the only thought in his mind was, ‘Get pregnant, get pregnant, get Y/N fucking pregnant.’

The sight alone was so arousing that you couldn’t help the way your pussy clenched around his cock, strangling it further to the point where a near feral snarl ripped through his now clenched teeth, bared at you in ferocity.

“Don’t fucking do that, fucking bitch.” He snapped, delivering another smack to your ass as his gaze finally raised to meet your own, promising lethality.

“M’sorry! I-I’m sorry, Rinnie!” You wailed against Sae’s cock as Rin’s hips slammed into you with such malice that you felt your legs going numb from the overwhelming pleasure.

“No th’fuck you’re not.” He slurred, just as drunk on the stimulation as you were. “This is what the fuck you’ve wanted this entire time, isn’t it? Wanted me to fuck you up? Make you scream from my ngh! From my cock ruining your pretty little pussy, isn’t it?”

“Y-Yes! God, yes, yes, Rin, please fuck me up more!”

“Yeah? Y’want me to put a pretty baby in you? Want me to make you a mommy, Y/N? Make that gorgeous tummy swollen with my kids, yeah?”

“Y-Yes, please! Please, please, make me a mommy! M-make me yours!”

“Silly, girl.” He snarled, delivering another quick swat to your ruined ass. “You were always mine.”

The idea of filling you to the brim with his seed and claiming you in a way that no man could ever claim—as the mother of his children—caused his erratic pace to falter and grow sloppier by the minute.

“Mine.” He growled. “Mine, mine, all fucking mine!”

Then, almost in perfect unison—pristine synchronization—you came together. Hips smothered firmly against your ass, he pumped rope after rope of his hot, thick cum inside of you, aiming deep into your womb with every intention of impregnating you. While you, on the otherhand, were unable to hold yourself up any longer, collapsing on the mattress as your orgasm washed over you. A barrage of your sweet juices fired over Rin’s cock, pelvis, thighs, and the poor sheets beneath you. Before you had any time to regain your bearings, you felt another tap on your cheek of the same phallic length from earlier.

“You forgot about me, pretty? C’mon, open that mouth for me one more time, yeah?”

Exhausted, you did as he asked without resistance, allowing your jaw to fall slack just enough for Sae to slip his cock into it. In a few pumps with his fist, the midfilder gladly fed you thick ropes of his seed, painting your mouth with his sticky release, which you wearily sucked down.

Then, unceremoniously, the two brothers collapsed beside you atop the ruined sheets.

The three of you lay there, completely depleted of all that you possessed. You were unquestionably the worst of the three, with deep teeth marks, scratches from blunt nails, bruises from fingerprints, and splotches of darkening hickies all over your body. Had anyone known any better, you appeared as though you had been mauled by savages—those very same savages who lay exhausted beside you.

After several much needed beats of deep silence, you felt the stirring of both of them pushing themselves up from the bed, and hands that were once so rough and unforgiving on your body were now handling you with the utmost care as though you were a porcelain doll made of the finest glass. As you walked the thin line bordering consciousness and unconsciousness, you felt warm, moist towels caressing your thighs, chest, and forehead, ridding you of any filth that tainted your once-supple skin. The sheets that had become beyond soiled from all of your fluids were gently lifted from beneath you and replaced with warm ones that had just come out of the dryer that had been running before Sae arrived. Just as you were about to fall asleep, your body was manipulated once more, this time into another equally warm one, causing your heavy lids to flutter open to focus on none other than your boyfriend—Rin's teal oculars.

“You still with me?” He inquired, his previously harsh tone softening to gentle and tender, as if speaking any louder would shatter your fragility.

You nodded weakly, seeking solace in his warmth and soft body, snuggling your petite frame into his. Rin quietly returned the favor, running his fingers through your hair and giving you occasional massages in the spots where he and Sae got too rough with you.

Speaking of, you heard Rin's door open and saw Sae standing in front of you, adorning a pair of black designer boxers.

“Here.” The midfeilder said plainly, passing a miniature carton of strawberry milk your way with a straw poked through the center.

Clearly in no position to receive such generosity, Rin accepted it for you, gently maneuvering you into a position where you could comfortably sip the much needed liquid into your dehydrated body. As you did so, Rin’s head rested atop your own, but not before he placed a tender, sweet kiss on your forehead full of love, unlike the one from earlier that was meant to lure you into a false sense of security. This is exactly what you needed after such arduous affairs, being held in your lover’s strong arms while enjoying the best strawberry milk you’ve ever had.

What should’ve been a cute moment was interrupted by Sae, who, with a look of disgust on his features, stated, “You two are disgusting.”

“Fuck you too, Nii-chan.” Rin shot over his shoulder, not missing the way Sae gave him the finger on his way out as he slammed his room door shut, leaving you and Rin in what should have been a comfortable silence.

But it was hampered by the sense of ambiguity that pervaded your relationship. The weight of past transgressions and tribulations weighed upon you both so heavily that it was nearly suffocating, threatening to take you both alive if it wasn’t for—

“I’m sorry.” The two of you stated in unison before, rather comically, whipping your heads to stare at one another, bewildered.

“Y/N.” Rin sighed heavily, shaking his head in denial. “You shouldn’t be the one apologizing. I should be. I made it seem like everything was all your fault when it was really Sae and I’s.” Another sigh drew from his lips as the realization dawned on him of the agreement he had made with his older brother to allow them to share you, one, without your prior consent, and two, without your knowledge. Not to mention, pinning the entire thing on you as though you were the infidelious one here.

“Y-Y/N.” His voice quivered. His gaze, too ashamed to look at you any further, drew to the ceiling. In the bright lights of his room, you watched as his eyes glazed over, tears that he refused to let fall clearly stinging at his irises. His face was etched with anguish; the weight of his actions had hit him like a sledgehammer, and his distress was palpable. “I-I’m sorry.” He whispered, daring himself to glance in your direction.

“Rinnie.” You uttered softly, biting back a wince as your sore arm rose to gently cup his cheek, the pad of your thumb swiping at his waterline to catch a straying tear. He wasn’t too good with words of sincerity, and you knew that—you wouldn’t press him for more. “I forgive you, so please don’t cry.” As you leaned in to give him a soft peck on the jaw, you noticed that you also felt the familiar sting of tears pricking your eyes. “You’re going to make me cry too, baby.”

Both of you were unable to control the gentle and quiet laughter that jostled your beings. And there it was—the moment of reprieve where the pressure of the unknown was lifted, replaced by a profound sense of reconciliation and renewal. Your eyes met with an intensity that conveyed unspoken apologies, forgiveness, and the promise of a fresh beginning. You two felt more intimate and connected to one another at that precise moment than you had ever experienced.

After you had finally finished the last of your drink, Rin took the empty carton from you and set it on his nightstand. You then proceed to curl into his chest, to which he ensared you in his grasp, entwining your limbs in his. With your head nestled against his chest, the rhythmic beat of his heart soothed you and eased your mind or any lingering parasites. That is when you sensed it: the tranquil siren's song of sleep drawing you deeper and deeper into its pacifying depths.

However, before you could finally embrace slumber’s sweet call, Rin’s soft voice called out to you once more.

“Y/N?”

“Hm?”

“I love you.”

“. . . I love you too, Rinnie.”

#blue lock #blue lock smut #bllk smut #rin itoshi #sae itoshi #bllk imagines #blue lock headcanons #bllk headcanons #bllk x reader #blue lock x reader #blue lock hcs #rin itoshi smut #sae itoshi smut #vampiiebitez #rin itoshi x reader #sae itoshi x reader

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roseglazedlens · 8 months

Note

Nanami baby fever 👁👁?

The user is female and has a kid already, but he likes, Why not other kids? What could be so wrong with that since user kidcis such a sweetheart?

⦑ 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐲 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 ⦒ ✧.*

NANAMI KENTO X FEM! READER synopsis: you've been busy, so Nanami organises you a day off to help you relieve some pent up stress. content: 𝐒𝐌𝐔𝐓 𝐌𝐃𝐍𝐈, reader is a mom, daddy kink, size kink, creampie, breeding kink, fingerbashing, cervix penetration, mating press, overstimulation, nipple play, praise, pet name (princess). a/n: thank you for requesting dear anon!! i love writing aggressive + soft nanami sm, hope you'll enjoy this! « 1.8 k words┇masterlist┇reblogs appreciated! »

You’re trying to take a relaxing afternoon nap. Nanami Kento doesn’t. His hand is running down your body as you lay, exploring and squeezing you in ways that are less than chaste in your eyes.

“Kento, w-what are you doing?” He moves closer, his front flushing against your back, and you feel the hardness of his chest muscles untense in your warmth.

“Isn’t it obvious? I want you.” Nanami draws out a whisper into your ear that resembles a low grunt. Something is nudging you on your thighs, and he uses this opportunity to round his arms around your body, reaching your breasts. They pert at his touch, and you let out a soft sound of relaxation. The firm pads of his fingers press against the plush, before coming together to roll them lazily against your nipple.

“Wh-Where’s all this coming from?” You whisper back even though there’s no one else in the house but you two. Nothing to hide. No reason to hold yourself back. But yet you do, especially when it comes to Nanami, he strips every remains of composure off your body. His other hand comes down to your belly, smoothing over with a gentle pressing grip until his fingertips crawl right above your underwear.

“I haven’t tasted you in so long. Since all the volunteering, the parent teacher interviews. I’m done waiting. Take these off.” Nanami hooks at your panties, pull on them and let it snap back against you.

“Oh, is that why you took my daughter to daycare? Is that what this is?”

“And? I have ulterior motives, so what.” Nanami knows what he wants, and he sure isn’t embarrassed by it. And right now, he wants nothing more than to feel himself inside of you. His fingers pick on your underwear once more, signalling you to lift your hips so he can pull them down to your ankles. “I can’t fucking wait anymore.” Nanami smirks, running two fingers up the length of your cunt that earns you a shiver. “Neither can you, it seems.”

You help him take off his glasses so you can see him clearer. When you do, his lustful eyes are still fixated on your body. Admiring the beauty you are in his life, speaking millions of promises to make you happy in the bedroom and beyond the bedroom with his gaze alone. That sincerity somehow makes your clit jump, but Nanami isn’t done preparing you yet.

He runs a few lazy circles along your clit, then getting impatient, places a finger inside of you, exploring the depths of you that clenches hard in attempts to fill the gap. He revels in the fact he’s making your back arch and heart race without even trying. Imagine how you will react when he does try.

Nanami’s cock is getting impatient too, his dick cramped inside his boxers begging to see your lewd face too. With the other hand that’s not occupying you, Nanami takes off the button of his pants, unzipping it to let his dick spring free onto his blue dress shirt. His other hand is not slacking either, fingerbashing into you relentlessly to let the slick of your desire permeate the air. Your cunt is drenching his finger, sucking him in, like you are desperately trying to make Nanami’s finger come.

“Fuckin’ hell, princess… Save some for me…” He cusses, removing his fingers inside you, and you let out of groan of refusal.

Your hole wants him, wants him to fill the void inside of you. Nanami rolls over on top of you, lifting both of your legs up to put over the shoulders of his shirt, now crumpled from all the action. He takes in the sight first, letting out a whistle of delight with a devillish glint in his eyes—one that he reserves only for you to see—before he lines up against you.

You feel his tip inside of you first, pussy already grasping at whatever he can give you. Your attempts at lifting and dropping your hips in desperation for more friction leaves you unsatisfied. That is when Nanami smiles, knows, and stops the teasing to indulge in your desires.

He ruts in you, difficult at first, but your body accomodates to his size soon enough.

“God… Just because I haven’t fucked your brains out in two weeks, you’re getting tighter… So you like it when daddy’s dick is too big for you?” Somehow when Nanami refers to himself as daddy, it makes your body react, pulling back your legs closer to your body for him to fuck you deeper. And he obeys, your walls wrapping tightly around him as he fucks you closer to your cervix.

“Fuck, nnh, that's it princess. Takin' me so well. You really want daddy to force himself into your tiny fucking hole and plant his seed inside of you?” Nanami's arms presses your legs down even further now, your knees almost touching shoulders, and you are pleasantly surprised to find how flexible you can be with some dick as your motivation.

“I'm going to make you into a real daddy, Kento.” Between his deep thrusts, the words slip from the back of your throat. Perhaps it's from the adrenaline of the moment. Perhaps that's how you genuinely felt. You don't know yet.

“Ohh, princess, don't make promises you can't keep.” Nanami is grinning and isn't against the idea. “But if you ever get knocked up, I'll love you, cherish you, make you the happiest mama ever.”

“Fuck...” You groan, a buzzing sensation shakes violently in your belly. Hands weakening, breath erratic, you're so close to the edge and you have to keep going.

“Hmm, does that mean you want me to cum inside?”

You ignore him, not giving Nanami the satisfaction of you saying yes, instead focusing on your belly at the knot of pleasure.

“Come on, princess. Don't get all shy on me now. You don't want me to stop now, do you?” Nanami slows his thrusts, too slow for your orgasm to reach anywhere.

“Don't stop. Please.” You meet Nanami's eyes, still playful. Still waiting for your answer. “Fine... I want you to cum inside.”

“Such an honest girl. Such a good girl for me.” And this is when he takes your breath away, plunging deep into you with newfound speed and eagerness. His dick is bumping into your cervix now, over and over and over again, until all that escapes your lips are filthy cries of your orgasm and gasping breaths of his name.

But Nanami isn't stopping yet. He's almost there, so close. Your overstimulated fluids that coat around his dick is the world's best lubricant to fuck you in till you can't walk. Then, his orgasm washes over him too, thick white ropes of his come spilling uncontrollably inside you with intention to make you his forever.

Nanami sighs, now heaving frantic breaths through the air as you both lie back onto your bed. You roll around, helping Nanami out of his sweat stained shirt that's probably a little too uncomfortable after their activity.

“Did you mean everything you said just now?”

“That I love you and want a kid with you? Of course.”

“It's a lot of work you know. Having kids. You sure you're ready for that?”

“With you, I'm ready for anything.” He brings himself forward to land a chaste kiss on your lips. His hand comes down to your belly to give it a gentle rub. “You already have experience with kids. How hard could this be?”

“Oh, you'd be very surprised.”

“Then I better start learning now.”

thanks for reading! come check out my other works. —yours truly, rose. tags: @kennedyswhore @emilzke @j3llyd0nut @ovaryacted © roseglazedlens — please do not repost, plagiarise, or feed to ai.

#꒰✒️ rose fics ♡.꒱#nanami x reader #nanami x you #nanami smut #nanami kento #nanami kento smut #nanami kento x reader #jjk #jjk x fem!reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk season 2 #jujutsu nanami #jjk smut #jjk x you #jjk nanami #nanami #꒰✏️ rose requests ♡.*꒱

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ventique18 · 1 month

Text

~ Thoughtless ~

Somehow you feel it. Maybe you're just letting things get to your head, but maybe. Just maybe.

Malleus is in love with you.

How can you not think that, when he comes by to see you almost everyday, or when he sometimes finds himself thoughtlessly tucking a stray hair away from your face. When his hands would naturally find their way to rest on your hip while you're busy baking something, and he would curiously watch from behind?

So when he carelessly lays his head on your lap one lazy afternoon, you find yourself blurting out "I think I'm in love with you." Just as naturally as is his intimacy is towards you.

He doesn't speak. Doesn't even laugh. He just thoughtlessly pulls you down and, clumsy and mismatched as they are, lets your lips wordlessly do the talking.

You're over the moon. How could you not be, when a person you thought was beyond your reach is hopelessly in love with you just as you are with him? You'll be spending your time as a couple from now on. Going on romantic dates together, greeting each other first thing in the morning, getting to know each other in a much, much more familiar depth. Maybe even considering... marriage.

There's an infinite things that you want to do with him. So many things that make you happy. You're happy.

... Until...

"I wonder what bouquet my betrothed prefers for our coming wedding?"

You overhear him as he strolls with Lilia.

Betrothed? As in, someone you promised to marry? He did say wedding.

What the hell.

He's already engaged to someone? And he still kissed you so passionately like that? All along, he was already meant to marry somebody else while he's fooling around touching you here and there, kissing you and pecking you and hugging you and... Is that why he didn't say he loved you when you confessed? He's just leading you on because he's bored?

That son of a--

Tears. Ugly tears. You scream furiously and cry miserably as you strangle and punt and wrangle your poor pillow at Ramshackle. Your best friends watch silently while they try to coax you with your favorite food and your favorite zero-substance comedy film. It works. Your mood lightens.

Until they go home, and he barges into your home with grin you wanted to sucker-punch off his ugly, cheating, demonic, monstrosity of a lying face.

"Why are you here?" You spit out.

His thick, slimy skin couldn't taste the venom in your words.

"Good evening," he giddily greets as he walks over to you-- almost prancing for god's sake, "I was wondering. What type of flowers do you like?"

"The hell are you on about? You think you can keep stringing me around? I'll fuck you up."

"Careful. I am exercising a deep self-restraint out of respect for you. But if you keep playing with me like this, telling jokes about 'fucking me'-- as people say nowadays-- I might truly end up debauching the sanctity of marriage."

You leer at him. What the hell is he yapping about?

"Fuck?"

He sits on the sofa beside you; as graceful as he always seems to be. No, actually. He sits as ugly as a bridge troll. "I see you are impatient. Truth be told, I am too. But we best wait until after graduation, at least. So before then, I would like to ask: what flowers would you prefer for our wedding? I rather wish to grow them myself."

"Our wed--"

And it clicks in your head.

'My betrothed.'

'What flowers would you like?'

'Our wedding.'

It's you. The betrothed is you.

You almost laugh out loud. Out of the silliness of it all, out of embarrassment perhaps, even out of relief. This guy. God, this guy. What a careless, thoughtless, whimsical, nonsensical, brainless guy. But somehow,

"I like wisteria."

It's just, so naturally, him.

"The flowers in full bloom when we first met."

#wrote a one shot short shot while on break #twisted wonderland #ventique rambles #malleus draconia #malleus x reader

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darealsaltysam · 3 months

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I JUST GOT BACK FROM SEEING DUNE PART 2 AND HOLY FUCK OH MY GOD HOLY SHIT HOLY FUUUUCK I NEED TO. I NEED TO. I NEED TO TALK SO BAD HOLY SHIT

below the cut because oh boy do i have a lot to say and i dont want my poor followers to suffer when i post this

oh my god okay okay where do i even start

opening with irulan's narration to mirror her notes in the openings of the chapters of the book. oh yeah baby. i ate that right up

watching paul get close with the fremen,,,,, fucking hell that hurts. dune really is a tragedy at the end of the day huh. they go from reluctant allies to friends but the whole time you know the switch will happen any moment now and they will be devotees and he will be messiah and that gap between them will never be as small as it is out in the sand. huddled in those tents. sharing drinks and laughs. im not doing ok

this especially hurts with chani. their love is so genuine and pure and she wears blue for him (which by the way sticks out so much more with how muted the colors of the rest of the movie are... i could talk about this all day) but she can see what he is becoming and he's trying to avoid it for her so hard but there's no avoiding fate. LORD ABOVE!!!!

i loveeee jessica being the manipulator thats pulling all the strings, urging paul towards becoming messiah. rebecca ferguson is such a talented actress she really understands the character so well. also as a hashtag certified alia atreides enjoyer her scheming with her unborn fetus might be the most unhinged thing ever but thats also so fucking funny aka its as dune as it gets. dune is WEIRD and im glad theyre not shying away from that. thank u denis

arrakis looks so much more beautiful in this movie like theres defo been some changes with how its framed and presented it feels so much grander and idk just ??? what it makes me think is that we're not seeing arrakis, we're finally seeing dune. we're seeing the land as the fremen see it as paul becomes one of them. i might be looking too much into it but who cares. god i love this movie

but yes more on the fremen in the first section of the movie. i like how there's this cluster of non-believers almost?? its a nice breath of fresh air. its hard to believe every single person would be just devoted to the prophecy and it adds some depth.

i will say the one thing i didnt like is the way stilgar is characterized?? i dont think he was so blindly devoted to paul in the books, and definitely not alia and leto ii after him as the atreides line went on. he's always been a source of small doubt towards paul but i think they're moving that element of him onto chani, so i think i can let it slide. i'd like to see him question alia more in the future though.

the scene where paul was named muad'dib and usul??? god it was so cute which made it so heart wrenching. all the fremen coming together and welcoming him into their lives. as a brother. as a friend. only for him to turn around and make them all bow before him. ohhhhh i cant do this

OH BOY THE WORMS THE WORMS AND THE WORM RIDING AND THE AHHHHHHHHH OH LORD

jesus christ. what the fuck. how is this allowed on cinema screens how is something so amazing allowed

the tension. the effects. the sound design. the sand rushing past the wind the worm moving forward paul struggling to hold on the fremen all watching and then cheering him on HOLY FUCKKKK HOLY FUCK I WAS HOLDING MY BREATH

all the worm riding scenes were so intense and so well done like. when i first read that stuff in the books i didnt think anything could ever capture how i imagined it exactly and yet. AND YET. DENIS!!!!!!!!

once more dune hits the idea of scale SO well everything is HUGE and they MAKE YOU FEEL IT. that shows especially with geidi prime but ill talk about that in a bit. but yes this applies to the worms too lord above them WORMSSSS ARE HUGEEEE AND I LOVE THEMMMM

rebecca ferguson put her heart and soul into that water of life scene and we all need to thank her for it

the way jessica is so quick to switch up and go all in on the prophecy. it makes me think of leto's "im not asking his mother, im asking the bene gesserit" like. the bene gesserit really come first for jessica and she takes her opportunity to fulfill her duties. to be the reverend mother. to rub it all in the faces of the other bene gesserit. she is the mother of the messiah and by god will she make everyone well aware of that

okay. okay okay. i think i said my peace on the early fremen stuff. i think. okay fuck okay SHIT fuck SHIT

FEYD FUCKING RAUTHA LADIES AND GENTLEMEN

oh my god okay. okay ill admit it. i doubted austin butler. i saw the cast list and i was unsure(tm). i saw him in the trailers and my faith was restored. and holy fucking shit did he DELIVER

stellan skarsgård's baron harkonnen is already such a threatening figure it feels like it would be impossible to make someone even more terrifying and yet. AND YET

just the way he's introduced. killing servants with zero remorse. LICKING THAT KNIFE THE WAY HE DID??? OKAY WHORE. I SEE YOU. GO RIGHT AHEAD. MAKE IT SLUTTY IN HOUSE HARKONNEN. I RESPECT IT

when the arena doors open and that loud ass fucking music BOOMS. makes the room fucking SHAKE. thats a PRESENCE right there. THATS how you introduce your antagonist.

the music playing as he fights being as fucking deranged as he is. chaotic and weird and unsettling. just. oh my god feyd had such a presence from the moment he showed up and he did not lose it for a single second. you could feel him LOOMING over the movie the whole time just as he looms over the whole book from his very first scene. oh my goddddd oh my godd

GEIDI PRIME. THE ARENA. THAT MASSIVE HARKONNEN PALACE. oh my god. once more. that sense of scale. the harkonnens love to flaunt their wealth so ofc they have huge fuck off arenas and castles where everything and everyone feels so SMALL in comparison.

dont even get me started on the black and white. the way it accents those coal black teeth and mouths. the way it makes everything look so much more inhuman and clinical and PERFECT because harkonnen power is so absolute and ruthless.

and the way the baron sits so so high above watching the fighting. literally impossible to picture his elevation above his people above the rest of the universe. the way feyd looks to him for approval after every movement. even as his uncle is trying to kill him they exchange those little looks and feyd knows hes getting his chance to show off while the baron gives him his "gift" what a fucked up family what the hell

speaking of fucked up family! wow! they are SO fucked up! there is something seriously strange being hinted at with feyd and the baron! feyd making his own brother bow and kiss his boot! those constant threats of death against rabban as if theyre nothing! this family is capital f FUCKED up. they hurt each other as much as they hurt everyone around them. theyre made of violence and blood and they could never show each other kindness because they dont know such a thing

what can i say about the feyd/margot scenes that hasnt been said already. like wow just unpack the boy's trauma like that. use him and then throw him to the wolves. once again the bene gesserit make it so clear this is THEIR empire and THEIR bloodlines and THEIR messiah. too bad jessica doesnt see that collective "ours" and instead settles for "mine" when it comes to the messiah

special shout out to dave bautista before i move on. just cause. his rabban doesnt get enough love. he really sells that balance of ruthless power but also incompetency compared to his brother so well. can you guys tell i REALLY like this cast

WE ACTUALLY GOT TO SEE GURNEY PLAYING THE BALISET WE FUCKING WIN Y'ALL

the paul/gurney reunion being the last shred of the old paul. how he gets so happy "i recognized your footsteps, old man" shoot me in the fucking brain stem it would HURT LESS

a bit off topic and it happened earlier (sorry my thoughts are so all over the place) but i like how they actually showed the process of how the water of life is made. it was actually exactly like how i imagined it when i read the books so thats neat !!

anyway. back to the horrors.

i already talked so much about feyd's presence so just another small note. that scene in sietch tabr. he is a MONSTER and i am EATING IT UP

i cant even begin to explain. how much it fucked me up. when paul took the water of life. i knew thats where we were going. i knew it was unavoidable. and yet still. when chani bent over him and screamed at everyone for making him follow this prophecy. when she was forced to shed tears to save his life. when she got him back only to realize she lost him and he wasnt the person she loved anymore. it broke me

chani's utter hatred for the prophecy and what paul is becoming added to it so much. i know some people are unhappy with how much shes been changed from the books but i think its elevated her character and all these scenes so much. and oh my god does zendaya DELIVER when the spotlight is on her. i never doubted her for a moment but all those changes to chani really allowed to let her shine. thats that euphoria acting coming out baby !!!!

SPEAKING OF GOOD ACTING

TIMOTHEE

FUCKING

CHALAMET

listen i hate the fact that he gets cast in everything these days as much as everyone but hes such a talented actor and i cant deny this anymore. the water of life scene really sold it for me.

he was such a perfect paul already in the first movie but this was the moment it really came out. the way he wakes up so calm and collected. lifeless. monotone. theres nothing theres literally nothing

paul atreides the boy who became duke far too young is dead usul who was the lover of chani is dead muad'dib the fedaykin fighter is dead only the kwisatz haderach remains and thats what the prophecy was always leading us to and yet the moment it happens its so haunting

like i cannot say this enough. that complete switch is so sudden but so subtle at the same time. its still paul technically but hes so different

what makes dune's weird concepts so easy to take in once you get into the book is all that internal monologue that really leads you through these complex concepts slowly. and yet in a few shots and a few lines of dialogue timothee chalamet somehow manages to express the idea of "i just learned the secrets of the fucking universe and im about to start a holy war" ???? HOW DO YOU EVEN DO THIS???? HOW ARE YOU THIS TALENTED???? OH MY GOD!!!!!!!! IT WAS A FEW LOOKS A FEW MOVENTS JUST THE RIGHT TONE OF VOICE AND THATS HIM!!! THATS HIM BABY!!!! THATS THE KWISATZ HADERACH AND THE UNIVERSE IS FUCKED !!!!!!!!!

also. anya taylor joy alia. we only had you for a split second but i cannot wait for you. im sure youre going to completely slay the third movie. give us our beloved tragic meow meow. alia is my fave character so i will be JUDGING HEAVILY. she better bring her a-game istg

when paul storms the war council and just completely takes control of the room so easily. thats the bene gesserit conditioning giving him his pedestal and he is making the most of it. he knows exactly what the fuck hes doing. and once more oh my goddddd all that shouting all that emotion and yet a complete lack of it. timothee spare a crumb of talent for the rest of us

also the way in that scene gurney is hesitant about it all until paul proclaims himself the duke of arrakis. and suddenly gurney has house atreides again and he doesnt care what chani does anymore. hes a follower to paul just as everyone else in that room. nothing changes. fuck me man i cant do this anymore

have i mentioned yet im so excited for chani in the next movie. her arc is so interesting. children of dune is defo not happening with the way chani has been set up so i doubt we'll see leto ii and ghanima but. lets hope we still get all the cool stuff wit alia at least. and maybe chani can be the one who leads the charge against her

okay i need to really fucking. get along with it im dragging this post on im so sorry this movie is eating my brain alive

chani still wearing blue during the final fight. im not saying more than that i might cry if i think about it too much

THAT. FINAL. FIGHT. OH MY GODDD OH MY GOD

IT ALL CAME TOGETHER SO SO WELL

THE WORMS

THE SENSE OF SCALE

THE FIGHT CHOREOGRAPHY

THE MUSIC HOLY FUCK THE MUSIC HANS ZIMMER YOU OUTDO YOURSELF EVERY TIME

THE SOUND

EVERYTHING FLOWING TOGETHER SO WELL

the way the fremen fight for their messiah but still fly the atreides banner. the way paul leads them as their messiah and as a "fremen" but always proclaims himself duke of house atreides first. oh lorddd im unwell

every time paul menacingly emerged from fog/sand/smoke my life was extended by like 10 years thank u denis

gurney killing rabban with as much ease as he did cleared my skin and watered my crops <3

the way the baron was literally dying and still crawling towards the throne.......... the way at the same time feyd ignored him completely and looked towards the doors reveling in the fight ahead..... if that doesnt tell u everything you need to know about house harkonnen idk what will yall

i also love how no one intervenes as paul walks in and kills the baron. not even feyd. feyd looks like he was a little TOO into it as paul killed him tbh. feyd u little freak. austin butler you talented talented man. im unwell

i AM sad we didnt get to see baby alia stab him but ah well. we got a bunch of other weird dune shit so ill let this one slide. the psychic toddler may be too much even for denis and everything he did give us. we'll always have our 1984 alia <3

OHOHOHOHOHOHOH. OH. HERE WE GO

HERE WE GO YALL

THE SCENE IVE BEEN WAITING FOR SINCE READING THE BOOK

THE SCENE THEY SHOWED BITS OF IN THE TRAILER AND THE SCENE IVE BEEN NON STOP YEARNING FOR SINCE!!!

THE DUEL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

oh my god oh my god oh my goddddd where do i even start

okay so. the way theres no music. no fancy cuts no slow mo no over the top effects. its just the slashing of the blades and those BEAUTIFUL shadowed shots with the setting sun in the background. this really is the sun setting on the peaceful universe. just pain and suffering ahead marked with the blood spilled from the two who were meant to produce the messiah but who both got thrown off this path by the greed and selfishness of their forefathers. guys im normal about paul and feyd. definitely. i definitely have very normal thoughts about how they are foils and yet two sides of the same coin. yes guys

paul making the emperor kiss his ring is already such an insane fucking scene and it translated to the screen so well. amazing performances all around

i didnt talk much about florence pugh's irulan but she really didnt have much time to shine. im excited to see where she goes next and i definitely think shes a great fit but i need to see more of her to really be able to say more

i will say this. the way chani, irulan and jessica are the only ones who dont kneel for paul. the three most important women in his life who give him his power, everything he has. jessica made him and she made him the messiah. chani opened her life up to him, helped him become and in turn control the fremen, and she shed her tears for him and fulfilled her role in the prophecy against her wishes. irulan is his path to the throne, his key to being emperor. and none of them bow before him because why would they bow before a power they are responsible for, a power they own, a power they gave?

but for chani its different ofc. she also refuses to bow because she despises everything paul stands for.

oh my god i could say so much about the last scene being chani. not paul reveling in his victory. paul leaves for his next bloodshed and chani is left behind crying for the person she loves who she knows is gone. crying for her people, again enslaved. crying those same tears that brought the messiah back into this world.

theres a lot to be said about the role of gender in dune and how it hangs over every facet of this world but thats a whole separate analysis post to be had so ill just throw it down here in this little point

another thing chani does very well in the movies is she really makes paul's villainy explicitly clear. SO many people read dune and completely misunderstand it and walk away from it concluding its a "white savior narrative" and nothing more which. yes!! yes it is!!!! but thats not a good thing!!!! its never stated to be a good thing!!!!

this movie is not gonna let you misunderstand the message of the story no matter how blind you try to be to it. paul is not a good guy. hes never been the good guy. hes the protagonist, but hes not the hero. and chani allows that to translate from book to movie very well. have i mentioned yet i love movie chani

chani fills in the holes left behind by the narration and internal monologues of the book and, bonus points, she holds the people who dont understand what dune is about by the hand and tells them explicitly "PAUL IS A BAD GUY!!! DONT IDOLIZE PAUL!!!! DONT WALK AWAY FROM DUNE THINKING ITS PRAISING PAUL'S ACTIONS!!!"

i think thats pretty much all i had to say. i might reblog with additions as they hit me but yeah i. i enjoyed the movie. so so much. i think i might watch it again sometime soon while its still in cinemas.

sorry for being unhinged hope u enjoyed my rants. kiss kiss night night <3

#dune #dune part two #dune part 2 #paul atreides #chani kynes #jessica atreides #feyd rautha #feyd rautha harkonnen #rabban harkonnen #vladimir harkonnen #stilgar #alia atreides #irulan corrino #im so crazy im so feral holy shit #okay im going to bed now #its 1 am lmao #ive been writing these down for like 2 hours since i got back

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selineram3421 · 7 months

Text

*escapes from homework* I finally have some time!

Alastor X Reader Small Oneshot

Warnings? ⚠

⚠ alcohol, cuddles, kisses(implied make out) ⚠

Drunk In Love🥂

You didn't drink alcohol all that often, only a bit during special occasions, but most of the time you were sober.

Alastor was the one who drank more, but it wasn't bothering in the slightest. He would only drink what he could handle, and when he was comfortable enough he'd drink till he was tipsy.

It didn't happen often but you were always nearby when it did.

Today was a normal one, nothing really happened in the hotel. It was its usual lack of guest, so the Princess called an early day.

Now you and the Radio Demon were back home, relaxing in the living room, Alastor sitting nearby the cellarette bar with a drink in his hand. You were on the couch, reading the encyclopedia of herbs that you managed to find deep in the library.

Too transfixed with the book, you didn't notice that the man in red had finished most of the bottle.

"Darling?", he called out, the glass in his hand making a sound as he set it down on top of the cellarette.

"Hm?", you hummed, not looking up from the book.

"Darliiiing~"

Now that's odd. You thought taking in the tone of his voice and looked up from your book, finding the deer demon's smile widen once you were looking at him.

"Come here my darling~", he holds out a hand for you, head tilted to the side a bit with a slight blush on his face. "I want to hold you."

He's..drunk? You close your book before slowly setting it down. No, almost there but not quite.

Standing up, you made your way over to him. Taking his outstretched hand, letting him guide you to sit down on his lap. He wraps his arms around your waist and nuzzles his face into your neck. To get comfortable, you wrap an arm around his neck and rest the other on his chest.

"J’aime sentir ton corps contre le mien."

( I love feeling your body against mine. )

A blush forms on your face and you avert your eyes. "How much did you drink?", you ask, looking over at the bottle.

"Not too much.", he sighs out.

You shiver when feeling his breath on your neck. Holding your breath when feeling him smirk against your skin.

"Tu es si mignonne." (You're so adorable.)

"I'm not.", you mumble, earning a chuckle from him.

"You are.", he replies before kissing your neck.

Feeling your heart skip a beat as he kisses up your neck, you move the hand on his shoulder to the back of his head, encouraging him to continue.

"Mon amour." (My love.)

Kiss, on the pulse of your neck.

"Ma vie." (My life.)

Kiss, on the underside of your jaw.

"Mon cœur." (My heart.)

Kiss, behind your ear.

The smell from the alcohol was starting to get to you, but you really wanted a kiss.

"Alastor.", you pulled back, looking at his flushed face as he slowly blinked at you. "Please kiss me already."

"Of course.", he says and leans in.

Reciprocating the kiss, all is forgotten about the alcohol. It felt like you two were the only demons in Hell.

Maybe...you could get a little drunk.

In love, that is.

*gets dragged back into the depths of assignments* LET ME KNOW IF MY TRANSLATIONS ARE WRONG!!!

~Seline, the person.

Taglist@

@c4rved-pumpk1n @willowaudreykeyes @stolas-thebirb @kiraisastay @scary-noodlesblog @ducky-died-inside @naelys-the-aster @biromanticboba @+?

ML for Alastor🎙

#alastor #alastor hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel alastor #x reader #alastor the radio demon #gn reader #fanfic #the radio demon #alastor x reader #oneshot #small oneshot #alastor oneshot #alcohol mention #fun fact #this was inspired by a fanfic on ao3

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nataliasquote · 3 months

Text

Double the trouble | new families | n romanoff

Summary: the twins take a trip to meet new family members, but it doesn’t go as smoothly as Natasha wanted

Age: 3.5 years old

Warnings: cute Mama Nat content

wc: 4.4k

Pairings: WandaNat

Note: I’m not a WandaNat stan, it’s never been my first choice of ship, so tbh I’m still questioning how I ended up with this pairing in this series. Which is why I focus so heavily on Natasha’s relationship with the twins, because it’s something I’m used to writing. Hopefully that clears up why my writing is so imbalanced x

-⧗-

Natasha would be lying if she said that the thought of what was coming today hadn’t kept her awake for most of the night. Wanda slept soundly by her side, unaware of the anxiety coursing through her wife’s body. The older redhead kept her eyes glued to the bedroom door, expecting one if not both toddlers to come running in in the middle of the night as monsters plagued their dreams. But it wasn’t weirdly quiet, which didn’t help to settle Natasha.

It was barely 5:30am by the time she had pulled herself out of bed and padded down to the kitchen, careful not to make any noise past the twins’ rooms. The sun had began to rise as she poured the first of many mugs of coffee, so Natasha wandered out onto the patio and sank onto one of the damp chairs that sat there. She loved the stillness of the morning, a start contrast to the usual chaos of her life. The air was crisp and fresh and just smelled like summer. Her favourite season.

A familiar set of footsteps echoed through the empty kitchen and Natasha smiled, looking over her shoulder just as her wife stepped through the patio doors. Wanda was definitely still half asleep, her hair mussed up from tossing and turning but she still looked as beautiful as ever. She carefully leaned down to give Natasha a kiss before looking out across the view their garden gave them. The house sat on the side of a hill, with the bustling city coming alive beneath them. They loved their location and wouldn’t change it for the world.

“How are you feeling about today?” Wanda asked, settling in the chair across from Nat as the cold stone beneath her feet started to get uncomfortable.

“I don’t know.” Natasha stared into the dark depths of her coffee, her eyes glazing over as she got lost in her thoughts. “That’s what scares me.”

Wanda softly touched her hand across the table. “The girls will be fine. Yelena will love them, as will Melina.”

“They’re not who I’m worried about.” Alexei had the biggest mouth and Natasha couldn’t shake the feeling that he would traumatise her babies. Especially Y/n, who had been really wary about guys recently.

“We can handle him, he won’t hurt them. He’s harmless Nat, except for when he talks. But you’ve got ground rules and Melina knows them, so I know she’s just as anxious as you are that he makes a good impression.”

Natasha just nodded but nibbled on her lip, not fully convinced. Motherhood was her favourite thing in the world, but it sure did attack her nerves and leave them frayed.

“Why don’t you go and wake the babies and I’ll start on breakfast. They can’t sleep for too long otherwise the drive will be hell.” A 7 hour drive with two 3.5 year olds… sounds like so much fun.

Wanda disappeared into the kitchen to get ingredients for breakfast whilst Natasha slowly made her way upstairs. By the layout of the house, the door to Y/n’s room was first. The twins’ rooms were conjoined but separated by a door, allowing them to have their own space.

The hallway light lit the way to Y/n’s bed and Natasha crouched down beside her youngest, stroking her messy curls out of her face as she slept. Despite having Natasha’s hair and eyes, the twins’ nose was definitely Wanda’s, and was Natasha’s favourite thing. Y/n’s tiny lips were parted and she slept peacefully, unaware of her Mama’s presence.

“Y/n, time to wake up sweetheart,” Nat said in her softest voice. She rubbed her daughter’s arm and smiled as the little girl frowned, her whole face screwing up. A small yawn escaped from her as she turned to face the one who disturbed her sleep, but all hard feelings vanished as she came face to face with her admittedly favourite parent.

“Mama,” she mumbled, reaching out with heavy arms. Natasha almost melted at the sight and gently scooped her up, the dead weight of her daughter making the task very inelegant. Almost immediately, Y/n snuggled into her neck and closed her eyes, falling back asleep in the comfort of Natasha’s arms.

Nat kept a strong hold on her before she pushed open the door to Isla’s room, surprised to see the little girl sat up in her bed. She’s clearly heard the noise next door.

“Mama,” was her response, her princess pyjama-covered body flinging itself out of bed and stumbling over to Nat to attach to her legs. “Wakey time?”

“It is wakey time, baby.” Isla’s curls were equally as messy as Y/n’s were, so Natasha didn’t even bother to smooth them down. “How did you sleep?”

“Good. Mr E kept me safe from the monsters.” Mr E was Isla’s stuffed elephant that she’d had since she was a baby. It was a little worn out but she slept with it every single night without fail. An adorable sight.

“He’s doing his job, I see.” Isla toddled over to free him from her tangled covers. “You hungry baby? I think mommy is making pancakes.”

“Pancapes?”

“Let’s go see.” With Y/n still fast asleep against her chest and Isla clutching onto her other hand, it was a miracle Natasha didn’t tumble down the stairs. She was very much relieved when Isla went running over to Wanda and Nat was able to hold Y/n with two arms.

“Don’t tell me she fell asleep again?” Wanda said with a laugh, helping Isla carry her sippy cup over to the table. She settled her toddler into her high chair and kissed her cheeks lovingly.

“Of course she did!” Natasha was leaning against the back of her chair with Y/n curled up in her lap, chest rising and falling almost in sync with Natasha’s heartbeat. “I don’t know if she slept well.”

“Is it mean to say I hope she didn’t?” Wanda asked, adding a ladle of pancake batter to her pan. “Would make our lives certainly a lot easier.”

“Mommy, pancapes please!” Isla announced, drumming her little fists against her plastic tray table. She kicked her legs eagerly in anticipation as the smell of fresh pancakes filled the air.

“Patience, baby girl. Mommy needs to cook them first.”

Natasha had successfully woken Y/n up for the second time, but this time the scowl on her small face did not let up.

“Hey grumpy girl,” she cooed, bouncing Y/n softly as though she was a baby. “Mornings really aren’t your thing, huh?”

“Here,” Wanda handed Natasha Y/n’s cup of milk, her go to in the morning. The twins had outgrown their morning bottles, but the comfort of warm milk at breakfast was something they both still enjoyed. “Hello grouchy,” she said with a kiss to her head.

Y/n did not stop glaring at everyone throughout breakfast, and Natasha and Wanda found it thoroughly entertaining. Her poor pancakes were being murdered by her tiny plastic fork and spoon, and with the combined mess of her squished raspberries, it sure looked like a massacre.

The plan was to drive to Melina’s in the morning and arrive late afternoon, just in time for the twins’ dinner and bedtime. This was the first time they would be sleeping in a different bed and both mothers were anxious to see how they would handle it. Hence the shortened night sleep.

Bags and car packed, twins buckled into their car seats and google maps yelling directions from Natasha’s phone, they were finally on the road. Y/n watched the world go by out of the window, the fluffy summer clouds catching her attention. She reached her hand up and stroked it through the air, trying to grab them.

Beside her, Isla was playing with Mr E, of course. He had one ear smaller than the other thanks to her teething phase, but she still cuddled him close and babbled to him quietly.

So far, so good, Wanda thought.

But she’d spoken too soon.

One hour. That’s how long they’d been on the road for before the sound of cries came from the back seat. There was still another 45 minutes before their first scheduled stop so Natasha kept driving, trying to block out the piercing screams behind her.

Wanda craned around in her seat, trying to pinpoint who was crying. But seeing Isla’s smiling face, she knew it was Y/n. She was sat directly behind Wanda’s chair which made the whole situation a lot harder.

“It’s ok, baby, it’s ok. Mommy’s here.” She tried her best to soothe her, rubbing her knee just about. But Y/n continued to cry and now Isla was looking a bit put out. The last thing the mothers needed was two crying toddlers.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” Natasha asked, taking a small look at her daughter before she merged onto the highway. “Wands, can you-“

“I’ve got her, don’t worry.” She turned around in her chair more, trying to look directly at Y/n. “Don’t cry baby, what’s wrong?”

“My stuffy!” Y/n wailed, kicking her feet against the hard plastic of her seat. “My stuffy!”

Isla looked at her sister and then looked at the floor in front of her, spotting the familiar orange and black stuffed animal in the wrong place.

“Mommy she drop it,” Isla helpfully pointed out, gesturing down in front of Y/n’s seat. Wanda glanced down and sighed. Y/n had dropped her favourite tiger plushie onto the floor and out of reach, triggering her little outburst. The Sokovian reached behind her seat to grab it but failed; it was too far away. Y/n saw her unsuccessful attempt and cried harder. Her tiger was doomed.

“I’ll get it,” Natasha muttered, taking one hand off the steering wheel and reaching it behind Wanda’s seat whilst keeping the car steady on the road. She was such a typical dad driver, almost as if she were reaching back for candy.

“Nat no, you drive, I’ll do it. You really forget I’m a witch don’t you.” Natasha smiled sheepishly and retracted her hand, allowing Wanda to retrieve the toy with a few simple red wisps. She brought it to the front and dusted off and bits of dirt before handing it back to Y/n who seized it gladly and stuffed her face into its fur, her cries ceasing immediately.

“Noisy,” Isla said, making Nat and Wanda burst out laughing. Oh she was such a hypocrite even at the ripe age of three.

The gas station they stopped at luckily had a McDonald’s attached, which meant the twins struck up a chant for Happy Meals the second they saw their favourite restaurant. And luckily for Wanda and Natasha, their girls had a habit of falling asleep after lunch, so this was impeccably timed.

Two chicken nugget happy meals silenced the twins enough for the moms to get some peace and quiet. Natasha picked at her wrap whilst Wanda chewed on her fries, not overly fond of the burgers sold here. The restaurant wasn’t too busy, with it being a Wednesday, but Y/n and Isla still peered around at everyone who passed their table, making several elderly couples coo over their matching hair and outfits.

Wanda’s guilty pleasure was dressing them in the same outfit. She had to, before they got too old and refused. Natasha let her do most of their clothes shopping and each week she would return, squealing over the latest adorable outfit.

Y/n and Isla were comfortable but cute today. Black leggings and little grey sweatshirts with their newest pair of white converse. If Wanda was the clothes lover, Natasha was the shoes. Something about tiny versions of her own shoes made her heart clench and she just couldn’t refuse them. But of course there was a spare change of clothes on hand, just in case.

After another 5 hours of driving and stops, the SUV turned down a street that was incredibly familiar to the redhead behind the wheel. She drove slowly, taking in her surroundings. This place had never been associated with a happy time in her life, and receiving the news that Melina had bought the house again shocked her.

She cut off the engine in the driveway and felt Wanda’s hand slip into hers, giving her an encouraging squeeze. Wanda didn’t need to read her wife’s mind to feel the anxiety radiating off her, so she stepped up to be her rock and grounded her instantly.

“Where is this?” Isla piped up, her eyes glued to the window and the trees outside. Y/n was still half asleep but followed her sister’s gaze.

“Let’s go find out.” Natasha climbed out of her side and went to get Isla, whilst Wanda did the same with Y/n. The youngest was far too tired to want to walk, so she clung to Wanda’s cardigan desperately, wanting the safety of her mommy in this strange environment. But the second Natasha appeared she reached out, tiny fists grabbing at the air.

“Come on big girl,” Natasha groaned, taking Y/n from Wanda and settling her on her hip. “Let’s go see your aunt and grandma.”

Y/n didn’t clock what she said, too focused on playing with Natasha’s hair. Wanda held Isla’s hand tightly as the four made their way to the front door. There was a faint rustling once the doorbell was pressed and the door flung open to reveal a grinning blonde woman.

“They’re here!” She yelled, bouncing on her toes in excitement. “Natasha! You brought my babies!”

The redhead rolled her eyes. “Hello to you too Yelena.” Yelena barely acknowledged her sister, too busy smiling widely at the small red haired girl in her arms. “Are you going to invite us inside or are we going to stand here and freeze?”

“Yelena let your sister and her family inside!” A voice called from the dark hallway, making the blonde woman smile sheepishly and step to the side. Natasha tightened her grip around Y/n and stepped inside, focusing her attention on her daughter to keep her anxiety at bay. Walking into her childhood home had hit her harder than she’d expected.

Isla held onto Wanda’s hand as the family entered, suddenly feeling really shy in this new space. The interior was dark but weirdly comforting, the dated furniture only adding to the odd charm. Wanda could see how tense Natasha was just from the way she was standing and she wished she could comfort her.

The atmosphere was tense and awkward, and even the twins sensed it. Isla had stopped smiling and Y/n looped her arms around Natasha’s neck, pulling her closer. Nat kissed her hand and smiled reassuringly.

“How was your drive?” A dark haired woman asked, appearing in the corner of the room like a ghost. Pale skin, dark hair, Y/n was intrigued.

“Not too bad, a bit of traffic in the city but we got through it.”

“Mama who’s that?” Isla asked, holding onto Natasha’s pant leg whilst looking between the two strange women in front of her.

Natasha crouched down and placed Y/n on the floor, holding both of her girls by their waists.

“Ok girls, this is Mama’s sister,” she pointed to Yelena who gave a thumbs up. “And that’s your grandma. That’s my mom.” Y/n stared at Melina with hesitation. She could hear how uncertain her Mama was and that manifested itself in her own thoughts too. Even thought she was only two and a half.

“Who wants to give Aunt Yelena a hug?” Yelena sat on the floor and patted in front of her.

“They’re not dogs, Lena. They don’t just run over to you like that.”

Yelena frowned. “Well I don’t know! Fanny does it!”

At the mention of his name, the Akita perked his head up and trotted over to Yelena before settling down with his head in her lap. The twins’ eyes lit up at the sight of the dog.

“Doggy! Can we pet Mama?”

Wanda studied the scene in front of her. “Is he well trained, Yelena?” The blonde nodded and so did Melina. “Go on then girls. But be gentle.”

Y/n and Isla held each others hand and slowly approached the dog, completely missing the way Yelena grinned as they approached. She wanted to be the cool Aunt who spoilt her nieces and this was a win in her eyes.

“If you sit next to him he might give you kisses,” she said in her heavy Russian accent, gently pushing Fanny off her lap to let the twins take a seat. Y/n was more hesitant, letting Isla take Yelena’s hand first. The blonde crossed her legs and settled the small girl into her lap before holding out her arm for Y/n.

“It’s ok sweetheart,” Natasha encouraged when Y/n looked back at her moms. But that didn’t work. The youngest girl ran back to her Mama and pressed into her side, not trusting strangers like her sister did. She watched from the safety of Natasha’s arms as Isla stroked the Akita and giggled as his wet kisses tickled her cheek.

“Do you want to come with me and get a drink, Y/n?” Melina asked, smiling softly at the young girl with her hand out. Y/n looked up at Wanda and Natasha who nodded towards Melina, trying to get her daughter to detached herself from Natasha.

“You can’t stay with me,” Natasha said firmly, although her voice still had that gentleness to it. But Y/n really was struggling, and her change in voice made the little girl’s eyes well up with tears. Natasha glanced at Wanda with a sigh and quickly excused herself and Y/n back outside.

“What’s wrong, detka? Why the tears?”

“Just want you,” Y/n mumbled, rubbing her eye. Natasha shook her head and refused the toddler’s request for cuddles. “Mama!”

“You’re tired, aren’t you?” Her motherly instincts had hit the nail on the head and Y/n nodded. Not necessarily sleep-tired, but more from being in a new place. She just wanted to go home and be with her mamas but clearly that wasn’t an option. “Why don’t we see if grandma Melina has some milk or juice so you can have a nap.”

Y/n brushed against her lips with her thumb as she thought. “I get tiger?” Natasha allowed her to retrieve the forgotten stuffed animal from the car before they headed back inside to find Wanda sat on the floor giving Fanny some belly tickles with Isla.

Nat gave Y/n a small nudge of encouragement and watched as she toddled over to Melina, clutching her tiger for courage.

“Milk, p’ease?” She asked quietly,

Melina’s heart softened at her request and she glanced at Natasha fondly. “Of course, let’s go find some.” Offering her hand to the small girl who took it after a few seconds, they disappeared into the kitchen, Natasha following to loiter in the doorway between the two rooms.

Melina had picked Y/n up and sat her on the counter whilst she rummaged in the fridge to find a glass bottle of milk. She may act cold, but the second she’d found out the twins were visiting she had gone out and bought all the supplies she could think of. High chairs, plastic cups and plates, toys. You name it, she probably bought it.

And Natasha couldn’t quite believe it when she saw her ‘mom’ pull out a brand new cup with Y/n’s favourite princesses on it. The toddler smiled and accepted the drink, sipping on it carefully through the lid.

“You didn’t have to do that.” Natasha said, crossing her arms against her chest.

Melina shrugged off her comment, not wanting to be complimented. “I never got to do it with you.”

Natasha smiled a watery smile and crossed the threshold, gravitating towards the dining room window that overlooked the garden she knew so well. “You kept our old swingset.”

“Didn’t have the heart to take it down.”

“I used to love it so much-“

“You thought if you swung high enough you’d be able to touch the stars,” Melina cut her off, looking at Y/n fondly. “She looks so much like you.”

Natasha’s eyes lingered on the desolate swing set for a few more moments. If she looked hard enough she swore she could see tiny lights in the trees, dancing around the branches like forest stars.

“She’s got your heart too.”

Natasha wiped a stray tear and turned around, pressing her lips into a tight smile. “She’s my little miracle.”

“What happened with her?”

Natasha leaned her hands on the closest dining chair and sighed, not really wanting to relieve the moment that still felt so fresh in her mind, despite it occurring over two years ago.

“She had a heart defect when she was born and the doctors didn’t pick up on it right away. It was obvious that she was a bit smaller than Isla but they thought that was it. It wasn’t until a couple days later that she started struggling to breathe because her heart wasn’t working properly. I really thought we were going to lose her before we even brought her home.”

Y/n was oblivious that she was being talked about and she just sat there idly drinking her milk and fiddling with the technological watch on Melina’s wrist. She didn’t understand, but the sound of her Mama’s voice was soothing and made her eyelids start to droop slowly.

“Does she still have trouble now?”

Natasha shook her head. “Thankfully no. We still have to have regular check ups just to make sure it’s all ok, but the surgery seemed to have fixed the problem.” She couldn’t help but pout at Y/n tiredness as she noticed from across the room. “Would you mind making another cup for Isla? They could do with a nap before dinner.”

Melina happily obliged and sent Natasha back into the living room with a cup for Isla who gratefully accepted it. She leaned against Yelena as she drank it and the blonde woman held her carefully, her boisterous nature suddenly flipped 180 in the presence of a child. Wanda came to join Natasha’s side, having missed her even for those few minutes.

“Do you want to put them down for a nap?” Natasha whispered to Wanda, knowing that she felt very much on the outside of this situation. “I’ll go and bring the bags to our room.”

“Have the girls got their own room?”

“Yeah. Yelena offered to sleep on the couch so they’re taking her room and we’re across the hall. Like always.”

Wanda slipped her hand into Natasha’s and pressed a small kiss to her lips, wanting to keep it short and sweet. “Ok then, I’ll let Isla finish if you go get the stuff.”

After an almost-asleep Y/n was placed on Wanda’s lap, Natasha headed back to the car to start ferrying their bags back and forth.

“Isla, baby, it’s nap time,” the Sokovian cooed, only to be met with grumbles of protest.

“No, stay Lena!” Whining was a clear sign that she was tired, but Isla was a stubborn as Natasha and scowled hard, tiny face screwing up.

“I’m sure Yelena will come and help if you’re a good girl.” Bribery, the most effective parenting tactic. Isla turned around and looked up at Yelena with her big green eyes, completely melting the Russian’s heart and making her fall head over heels in love.

“Why don’t you show me your cool pyjamas, huh?” Yelena said, tickling Isla gently in the ribs. This got the toddler up and moving, pulling as hard as she could on Yelena’s hand to make her follow. Wanda chuckled and let Yelena lead the way up the small staircase to her room where two makeshift beds had been set up.

Natasha had worked speedy and already laid out a folded pair of pyjamas for the girls on each bed, and Isla ran straight towards hers, eager to show Yelena. She babbled away as the blonde helped her get changed, her sleepy state now a million miles away.

Y/n let Wanda get her changed and didn’t protest once, but the slightly frown on her face was a telltale sight that she still wasn’t happy.

“Will you read story?” Isla asked Yelena as she climbed under the covers, Mr E tucked safely under her arm. Yelena looked at Wanda for permission who just shook her head.

“We usually only do stories at bedtime.”

“Maybe later, soldier.” Isla frowned but accepted her answer and yawned. “Sleep well, little one.”

Both adults backed out of the room and found Natasha downstairs with Melina, their voices hushed as they talked.

“Are they always so different?” Yelena asked, plopping down onto the couch and almost hitting Natasha in the process.

“What do you mean?”

The blonde screwed up her face. “Well, Isla is so… you know, and Y/n is…” descriptive as ever.

“They’ve always been like that,” Natasha sighed, leaning her head on Wanda’s shoulder and smiling as their hands found each other.

“Y/n is her Mama’s girl,” Wanda said with a fond smile, no hint of resentment or jealous in her words. “But they’re so different it’s crazy sometimes. And Y/n has her moments, but she prefers to watch while Isla talks. Saves our ears, that’s for sure.”

“Speaking of talking, where is he?” There was bitterness to Natasha’s tone and Melina clenched her jaw, her hands coming to smooth over her black pants.

“I sent him away for the week,” she admitted, watching Natasha’s eyes shift at the news. “I didn’t think it would be good for the girls… or you.”

Natasha’s original hardened expression slowly softened and she bit her tongue to stop the tears building. Motherhood had made her soft and emotional, but she didn’t realise just how much.

“A mother always knows, Natasha. I’m sure you both would have done the same if it was the other way around.”

It was like a weight lifted off her shoulders and for the first time since they’d left that morning, she finally relaxed. Her girls were safely asleep upstairs, Wanda was grounding her by her side, and the family she had abandoned for years had welcomed her back with open arms.

Maybe these reconnections weren’t going to be so bad after all.

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