#but now he’s punched fight in the stomach

[writersdrug]

I need the bartender Simon having to escape upstairs for a few minutes just to control the monster in his pants just because of a more direct provocation from the reader

I was saving this ask and I think this is the perfect moment after Simon sees reader in his shirt, no?

Warnings: NSFW, masturbation, sex toy, pining, daydreaming about p in v sex

He doesn't dare go up to his room - even after the bar is closed, after you and Johnny are both gone, after his tasks are complete. His mind has been scrambled ever since you came down in his shirt, looking like you'd just woken up from having a nap in his bed. He knew that wasn't the case, but it was so easy to pretend. You made it easy, looking like wearing his shirt was just your typical Friday outfit. If he tried hard enough, sitting at the bar after hours, sipping on an Old Fashioned- he could imagine you were up there right now, lying stomach-first in his bed, wearing his shirt, with "LT RIELY" on your back - you weren't objective, he certainly doesn't think of you like that - but having his claim on you aroused the most primal part inside him. If only you could see what you've done. Did you even know it?

Price comes lumbering down the stairs. Simon doesn't bother to look at him; he sits at the bar, his Old Fashioned long gone, with an empty whiskey glass and the mostly-full bottle next to him. He was hoping to replace the thought of you with drinking, but he didn't have the stomach for it.

"I'm plannin' to see if Garrick wants to join the team." Price says, shrugging on his jacket. "I know he wanted to be his own man, but we could use him. Our girl's made this place quite popular."

Simon wants to spit out the words he'd just heard. Our girl. Whose girl? John's? Soap's? The entire pub? It was his name on your back. Not Price. Not MacTavish. He was the one you came to with all those receipts, numbers scribbled in the margins, trusting him to help you ward them off. Sure, you have fun with everyone, asking them all for help - but you go to him the most easily, whenever you need to feel safe. Bad customers, bad situations - you looked to him. Didn't that mean anything to Price?

He doesn't respond to his captain, choosing to stare at his empty glass instead. Price looks at him quizzically.

"Feelin' alright, there?"

Simon grunts. "Long day."

Price knows he's bullshitting him. He knows exactly what this is about. He sighs, pulling his beanie on and tucking the money pouch into his jacket. "If you want 'er, Simon, tell me to back off. Can't read your mind."

That has him pursing his lips, grip tight around the sides of his glass. He would have punched John, was he any other man. He knows exactly what Simon's thinking, yet he makes him work for it. Typical. His pride and his jealousy are fighting tooth and nail against each other, but he can barely say a word.

Price stands there a moment, waiting for Simon to speak - but he doesn't even spare the owner a glance. Bastard's always punishing himself... he thinks, sighing again.

"Bright and early tomorrow, lad." He says, heading towards the kitchen. "Lights off when you're done here." He knows Simon's capable of closing, but he repeats it every night regardless.

"Sir."

Price stops, halfway through the kitchen door. He looks at Simon, who's now staring directly back at him. There's a look in his face, something that reminds him of Ghost - the reason he became his right-hand man.

"Respectfully..." he says slowly. "Back off."

Price almost finds it comical. Like an animal staking its claim, staring at its rival - except they’re not rivals. The only reason Simon is bothering to play his captain's game, asking for permission to have what Price would happily hand over, is because he's his superior. Even if they're all retired from the SAS, no one ever really dropped the dynamics of the team.

He smiles, nodding his head once. "Understood." He says, shoving himself through the kitchen door. "But hurry up and say somethin' to 'er. I'm sick of you losing your mind during the rush."

With that, Simon hears him leave through the back door. He stays there for a moment, his mind reeling - he feels both satisfied and angry at the same time. It was a bit humiliating to tell Price to leave you for himself - you don't belong to him. But that was a problem he was going to fix. You had his name on your back-

For Christ’s sake, he’s got to give it a rest. You wore his shirt, that was all. You wore it – with no bra. Bare. Naked underneath the 141’s insignia, under his title.

And that damn bra is still in his room.

He can’t take it anymore. He unscrews the whiskey bottle and takes a few swigs, before slamming it back onto the bar top. He leaves the bottle and the glass there as he gets up, making his way across the floor, up the stairs, passing the office, and continuing up to his studio flat.

Nothing seems out of the ordinary. If you’d gone snooping, you either did a good job of hiding the evidence, or you didn’t really rifle through too much. His bed was untouched, his books and items where he had put them last – he goes into his drawers, checking to see if you had gone through anything other than his shirts. Considering everything is still where it should be, he assumed not. Though you did leave a mess in his shirt drawer – you’d been digging around in there until you found his old SAS shirt. Did you mean to do that? Were you looking for something with his name on it, just to drive him insane?

He goes back into his top drawer, muttering a curse as he pushes the contents aside. His cock is pulsing in his pants as he grabs his pocket pussy, slamming the drawer shut and heading towards his bed. He doesn't want to draw this one out - this is nothing more than a wank, just to get you out of his head. He sits at the foot of his bed and unbuttons his jeans, pulling his hard length out of his briefs – it bounces up and slaps against his abdomen, precum already smeared across the tip. He’s been hard for hours now, trying not to cum in his pants at the thought of your tits rubbing against the inside of his shirt. Do you have small, pebbly nipples? Or ones that are soft and pliant? He growls as he smears the tip of his cock against the lips of the toy, rubbing up and down the slit. He sighs, tilting his head back and closing his eyes. You’re there, rubbing your lips on his cock, your hand wrapped tightly around his shaft as you stare up at him, licking and kissing his tip like a good girl…

He scowls and opens his eyes, sitting upright – he sees your bra hanging off the back of his chair, and he nearly passes out form how quickly the blood rushes to his cock. Pink lace, delicate and kinda skimpy… and your shirt, crumpled on the seat of the chair. You’d forgotten to shove them into your bag before you left. Or did you do this on purpose?

He's reaching out before he realizes it, slowly standing up and heading towards the chair. He wants to grab your bra, rub his cock in it until he stains it with his thick cum – but something in the back of his mind keeps him from touching it. One, it’s purely you, and he doesn’t want to ruin that. Two, he’s trying to cum. Not to cum to you. He’s doing this to get rid of your image in his head.

So, he goes for the next best thing. He grabs your shirt and sits back down on the edge of the bed. He lines himself up with his fleshlight and brings your shirt to his face; no wonder the drinks had turned it translucent, it was the thinnest fabric he had ever felt. Practically skin.

He presses it against his face and inhales: the scent of you, sweet, floral and spicy, fills his mind. It makes it all to easy to imagine that you’re sinking down onto his cock, and not that he’s stuffed it as far as he can into the toy. He groans, his eyelids fluttering shut as he pumps his hips once, then again… the tightness of the fleshlight slides over him easily, offering no resistance with the precum acting as a lube while he grinds up into it, heat knotting in his gut. The waist of his jeans hugs his thighs as he slowly and steadily pulses towards the ceiling, taking deep breaths of your scent.

He feels like an animal. Dirty, cheap, and desperate. He has to remind himself that it’s not about you, it’s about having a good wank and getting you out of his head. He drops your shirt on his chest and uses his free hand to cup his balls, groaning as he massages them. The schlick of the fleshlight around his dick is loud, the sensation borderline painful as he quickly fucks into it, curses spilling past his lips as he slams the thing down to the base of his length, catching on the Jacob’s ladder piercing on the underside, then back to the tip.

He shouldn’t, but he lets his mind slip elsewhere. What would you be doing? Would you have your hands on his chest, lips parted in a moan as you drop your hips onto his thighs, your cunt dripping and squeezing around his member…? What are you doing now? Are you still wearing his shirt? Are you lying back on your bed, playing with your breasts under the fabric and using your other hand to toy with your pussy? What do you sound like? Are you saying his name, or can you make any sound at all?

He falls back against the bed. “Fuck fuck fuck-“ he mumbles. He’s caught himself in a trap here – he can’t allow himself to indulge in the thought of you, begging him to take your hips and buck up into you – but it’s impossible to get you out of his head. Even if he could, he doesn’t think he’d be able to cum without you. He squeezes his fist around the fleshlight, groaning loudly from the pain, trying to drown out the sounds of your moans in his head… you’re always there, ever present, leaning over him and whimpering in his ear, need you, Simon, wanna cum on your cock, want it inside-

It's all too much for him, but not enough. He turns himself over, climbing up to his knees on the bed. He props himself up on his forearm, holding the fleshlight with his other hand as he ruts into it, stuffing his cock in as far as it will go, until the lips are smashed against the base. He pants and groans, mouth hanging open as he hovers over the bed; over you, holding one of your thighs up, touching his forehead against yours, watching as you’re covered in a layer of sweat, tits bouncing with each violent thrust of his hips. Both wrists secured above your head with one of his meaty hands, whimpers and whines spilling from your mouth as you struggle to remain coherent. Your cunt swallows him greedily, hugs him tightly, pulses around him, coaxes him to pound into you harder and harder, your walls twitching as slick gushes around him, your fingers digging into the back of his hand as you cry out his name, “Simon, Simon, Simon”-

He hisses through his teeth as his balls seize up, his abdomen going taut and his dick twitching in the toy. He rips the fleshlight off and grabs your shirt without a second thought, wrapping it tight around his cock and pumping it. “Gonna cum, gonna cum- fuck- oh, fuck-!” He mumbles to no one as his orgasm is ripped from him, hips canting repeatedly as cum spurts into the fabric of your shirt, leaking out around his thighs as he thrusts into it, thighs aching from the exertion. He bites into his hand and growls as he continues rutting, fighting through the overstimulation to chase what remains of his high – but he soon collapses on the bed, huffing and groaning into the mattress.

His orgasm fades slowly, his heart ramming against his ribcage and the fog clearing from his head. Realization sinks in as he’s hyper-aware of your shirt, still wrapped around his dick, now soaked in his cum. He'd have to wash it, now. Filthy doesn’t even begin to describe how he feels, but he doesn’t find it in him to care anymore. He rolls onto his side, clutching your shirt in his hand. Fuck. One quick tug was all this was supposed to be, and now, he’s picturing you lying across from him. Face flushed, lips swollen and eyes hazy, smiling at him and panting. Telling him you love him. He’d say it back a million times. Listening as you breathe, as you talk about your silly little ideas for the pub, for redecorating his room… craving the moment where you drag yourself closer to him and snuggle into his chest for the rest of the night.

He hasn’t gotten rid of you, like he hoped for. He’s only made it more clear: he wants you. He wants his life to be threaded with yours, he wants to wake up next to you, he wants you to change his routine, to pick up his broken pieces and make a mosaic – and he wants to be there when you need someone, he wants to give you everything you want and more, whether that’s a life up in the clouds or down here, in his arms, in his small bed and lackluster apartment. You’d make it better; you’d make anything better.

He sighs, slowly sitting up and on the edge of the bed. Price was right – he’s got to hurry up and say something to you, or else he’ll be drowned in his obsession. You’d either agree to take this fucked-up giant on a date and end his misery, or you’d reject him, and he could force you from his thoughts and replace you with misery. It’s worked before.  

He pulls off his jeans and shirt and grabs the fleshlight, standing with a grunt and walking into his bathroom. He’s planning to clean the toy, but if he waits long enough, he might just be fucking it again in the shower.

[bunnys-kisses]

boxers

simon 'ghost' riley

cw: smut/pwp, boxing au, boxer!simon, injury/bruises, protective!simon, size difference, unprotected sex, cowgirl position, gentle sex, simon luvs his missus,

you liked strong men. strong however was a broad definition. thought a man could be strong in a lot of ways, not just physical. strong convictions, strong emotionally, there were many examples.

but when you started seeing simon, you were enthralled by his physical strength. he wasn't some eight pack having, dehydrated mess. he was bulky, which was good for what he did.

punch the living daylights out of other boxers.

wide shoulders, a softness in his stomach, strong arms with one lined with tattoos. not to mention those thighs, he could crush a watermelon with them if you asked nicely (no, he wasn't going to crush your head). the facial scars add a scary look as did those dark eyes of his.

despite it, simon was a total sap.

at least to you, no one else. god forbid johnny or any of the others. but when it was just the two of you, he was a big puppy. you once described him as a huge german shepherd who thought he was a lap dog.

simon simply said, "just be glad i don't wanna sit on your lap, love. i'll break ya." then pulled you to him to give you a kiss on the forehead. he'd never hurt you though, he'd rather take his own life than yours.

and you loved him back, even with his loud snoring, you still adored him. you thought that he was the perfect boyfriend. which was why it hurt so much when he came home late at night with bruises on his face.

"si."

he dropped his bag and let you get in his arms. he kissed the top of your head lovingly. and welcomed your embrace. the man had enough fractures and scars. so to see another shiny bruise only left you feeling sad.

you brought him to the kitchen by his hand and sat him down at the kitchen table. he looked so large in the small space, which really highlighted your size difference.

"c'mon, pretty thing." he said as held out his arms to you.

you looked over your shoulder from the freezer, "give me a second, honey. i need to find the frozen peas."

simon groaned. he wanted to touch his woman. he cursed the universe that the frozen peas were in the back of the freezer. you managed to grab the bag before you turned to your boyfriend.

you sat in his lap and pressed the frozen vegetable to his bruised face, "poor baby." you cooed as you gave the bag to him.

he hissed a little at the feeling of it against the heat of the bruise. you rested your head on top of his and held him close to your chest

"do i need to talk to anyone?"

he chuckled, "no, love. i just need you right now. i wanna feel my woman." he nuzzled up against your chest. he even kissed the little gold chain around your neck.

eventually the peas started to melt and you put them back in the freezer. however with your back turned to your lover, you didn't notice his approach towards you.

he cornered you against the fridge with his large, scarred hands on your hips. he let out a shudder, "i need you." his voice sounded a little strained.

you swallowed as you kept your hands on the front of the fridge. you could feel his cock pressed against your ass. the rush was the fight was wearing off, but he needed another release.

"you could've just asked, riley."

he curved his back over you to lean in to kiss your neck. his hands traveled north to your breasts and groped them. the flesh filled his hands, his grip was a little rough. but, you didn't mind that.

"i know, love. but i couldn't find the words. i just needed you." his voice was like driving over gravel. it left you hot all over.

you blushed a bit at his words. you turned so you front was facing him. you took his face in your hands and brought him in to kiss his bruise. you said, "si-"

"please." he said as he curled an arm around you middle and brought you closer to him. your hands were splayed across his broad chest. he pulled you into a kiss and you had to get on your tip-toes to meet his lips.

he held you by your middle, his strong arms draped around your waist. he groaned against the kiss, "mine." his voice was as light as it could be.

you really had no choice. it was either you fucked on the bed or up against the fridge. and you knew the landlord would not want to deal with that. so you got out of your boxer boyfriend's grasp and took him by the hand. then you practically dragged him to your shared bedroom.

his eyes were on you as you walked. he felt his cock stir in his pants. you were just so good to him. you were the perfect girl for him. it made him smirk to himself even if it did hurt a little.

he watched your beautiful body on display for him as you tugged off the oversized shirt (that belonged to simon) and baggy sweatpants (that were yours, because his were two sizes too big!). he put his hands on your hips, feeling the softness under his finger tips.

he leaned in a down at you and kissed your cheek. he squeezed your hips and groaned against you, "pretty girl." you trailed your fingers through his blond hair.

your core throbbed for him, your heart leapt when he got a better grip on you and almost tossed you onto the bed. you bounced a little and laughed. "simon! no need!"

"i need ya love, you were takin' too long." he quickly got his shirt off. he hit his nose in the hustle of it all, but was too wrapped up in his deep lust for you that he didn't even wince at the pain, "c'mon, love. either you get them off, or i'm rippin' em of!"

usually he liked to slowly take off your bra and panties, but tonight was an inferno. a huge fire that burned in his core. his heart thumped as he go the buckle of his belt off and he slid the leather off from his waist. he watched you hastily get your underwear off and laid underneath him.

"i wanna see my girl on top." he said as he leaned in for a searing kiss and grabbed you to put you on top of him while he laid on the bed. you were both naked, two pieces of the same puzzle.

you moved so your pussy brushed up against him. he let out a choked groan as you didn't fully sink down him. he could feel his heart up into his throat.

it should be illegal for you to do that, and punishment for it is to get dicked down for five hours.

"like that, si?"

"if i wasn't so worry about breakin' ya, you'd already be ridin' it." he loved when you were on top. the sight of your eyes on him as you hold onto him for a leverage as you rode him.

"si." you smiled as you splayed your hands on his chest and sank down onto his cock. you could feel your heart in your throat as you sank yourself down on his impressive size. you choked out a moan and felt the pleasure pollute your head.

"that's it, baby girl." he said softly. his voice was a rumble in the back of your head like thunder. he guided your hips. he wanted to see close to his missus.

your big scary boyfriend. close to being the number one fighter in the league. the big shot. the ghost. there he laid under you, his eyes closed and his body melting into the bed. his hands your hips as he slowly guided them up and down. your cunt felt like a comfortable vice around him, he could hear the hitch in your breathing when he hit just the right spot.

what a beauty, the most loveliest woman he had ever laid his eyes on. that's why you were his woman, the only one he wanted. through hell and high water, to the moon and back. he kept his hand steady on your waist as you moved up and down on his cock.

you could hear your heart thumping in your ears from the blood rush of having sex with him. the most handsome man you ever had the privilege of loving. you held onto him for support as you raised and lowered your hips against pelvis.

you felt the curl of pleasure in your gut as his cock prodded at your most intimate parts. he felt so right. that was your man, as you leaned in and kissed him on the lips, you felt the inferno in your gut.

you felt hot and heavy all over, you felt the rush of pleasure echo through your body as you moved against him. he was your simon, the bloodied boxer, the ghost of the ring. he came home to you every night, he kissed you until you fell asleep in his arms, he brought you home flowers on tuesdays and always cooked dinner on sundays.

that was your charming bloke who punched people for a living. with his scars on his cheeks and lips, the crookedness of his nose, those piercing brown eyes and all the love he could give you. while he didn't believe it was much, it was more than you ever wanted.

"si"

"love."

you pulled him in for another hot kiss as you bounced more on his cock. the stabbing of his cock in you made you feel lightheaded, there was so much to fit in you. everything about simon felt big, from the meat on his shoulders to the width of them. his strong arms that were now wrapped around your middle, to of course his cock that was filling any gap in your pussy.

you dug your nails into his tanned skin and you let out a loud moan as simon clutched onto you and continued to push his cock up into you. it made you see stars as he moved.

"that's my woman." he huffed, "bright beauty." his voice drew as he bounced you on his cock. even if the pain in his face was still there, the sight and feeling of you around his cock managed to dull the pain. who thought pussy was a good cure for a bruise.

he pulled you closer to him, until your chest was against his. simon bent his knees and got a different angle to hit the back of your soaked cunt, "been thinkin' about my missus all evening. probably why my game got thrown off. was thinkin' about this sweet treat rather than johnny's punches." he chuckled as he managed to fuck you faster.

you whined, you didn't want to be the cause of simon getting hurt. but he quieted you down with a searing kiss. he didn't need to hear that, he wanted to hear your pussy getting fucked by him.

the angle made your head a little dizzy as you tried to keep some more of control. but it was too late, simon had already dominated your little pussy yet again. it was alright though, the feeling left shivers through your body.

he continued to make out with you, the kisses were sloppy and needy. it made your cunt ache as he rocked into you. the bed shifted under you two as you continued to make love.

simon loved you. he'd never hurt a hair on your head, even a chipped nail was a cause of concern for him. he kissed at you hot face as he felt you grow tense around him.

a few hard thrusts later and you were clamping down on him, orgasm pulled from you and you felt hot all over. the pleasure left your head swimming. you panted wildly as he continued to move against you.

he gave you filthy praise as he felt his own orgasm come over him. with a heavy thrust into you, he slammed his cock all the way into you and finished. spurts of cum hit the inside of your pussy and he left out a harsh grunt.

he dropped his arms down onto the bed and laid fully out. you clung to him and his cum clung to your pussy lips. you both laid there, basking in each other's embrace.

you leaned up and kissed him gently on his bruise, "my boxer." your fingers dragged down his chest, "you have to be careful. i hate when my man gets hurt." you kissed him on the cheek under the bruise, "i need you to come back to me in one piece."

simon's cock soon slipped out of your pussy and you softly kissed him on the lips. he said to you between kisses, "i always come home to my love. i love you so much." his words were like honey that melted to your core.

you laid in each other's hold. he had been a fighter all his life, but now he was simply yours. wrapped up in the comforts of bed, the bruises would heal but your love for him would be eternal. <3

[potatomountain]

CIY- CH 24

Chapter Twenty-Four

📍Pairing: detective ateez ot8 x detective afab reader 📍Summary: "Turning Point" 📍WC: 3.3k 📍AU: detective/mafia 📍Genre: action, dark themes, poly romance 📍Warning(s): 18+ rating, some angst, dark themes implied, oral (male receiving), body piercings, cum-eating, semi-public sex, slight voyeurism/exhibitionism 📍Nets: @pirateeznet | @mirohs-aurora-society 📍Beta readers (and sole motivation): @flurrys-creativity , @candypop1611 , @yourfatherlucifer , @skteezcursed and edited(usually) by the amazing: @daemour 📍dividers made by: @cafekitsune 📍AN: As a birthday gift to me (9-24) I am posting this hecka early. But also annoucing that there will not be another CIY posting until after October (most likely. who knows, i might get impatient myself) as ill be focusing on Kinktober and some fics i have planned for October! There are 6 chapters left (roughly) so please enjoy <3

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Three weeks. Three weeks had gone by and you had to admit, you missed them. Well, some of them. Wooyoung’s incessant need for you. San and his flirting- his dimples. Yeosang’s cute little lisp and the sound of him tapping away on his keyboard. Hell you even missed hearing Mingi fuck others and keeping you awake at night. You might even miss Jongho’s constant scowl in your presence.

Seonghwa had been taking you to and from the club every night, five nights a week, and would tell you to rest the other two. You wouldn’t come into the office but now you wanted to. Maybe then you could do something about this odd bundle of emotions in your stomach. Yeosang sent you instructions on how to fill out a report of your undercover work on the program he installed in your laptop, which automatically stored the vital information and categorized and compared it with the rest. So in short, now you couldn’t even tell them about the new rumors you’ve picked up at the club.

At least now you knew why they were so busy, far too busy for you. The Vipers and the Wolves were still at each other’s throat, fucking up cash grabs, stealing product, or raiding known businesses of the other. San told you he was cleared to head back to fighting soon, and it worried you that the Wolves would hit the fighting ring while he was there.

But, what could you do about it? Undercover work was something that took months to years to gain enough influence to make a difference. You were nothing more than a fly on the wall gathering information, searching for weaknesses to use against the big players. A slip up that could get them behind bars.

Once more you thought of the dead boy in the alley. Once more you pictured someone else as that dead body. And once more you realized that, as a detective, there was nothing you could do to prevent that. It was a frustrating feeling.

And that’s why you found yourself heading to the gym on your next free day, ready to punch the frustration out or work up enough of a sweat that your muscles would be screaming at you until tomorrow.

It was a nice sweet surprise to find Hongjoong there, working on one of the machines, a thin sheen of sweat coating his bare arms and calves. He was wearing a hat, black tank and black gym shorts with an airpod in as he was chatting with someone. He didn’t notice you at first, but when you got close enough to hear his conversation, you frowned at how quick he hung up when he did notice you. “I’ll call you back later.” The weights dropped as he let go of the handles to turn the call off, shifting to look up at you with a bright and charming smile despite your deepening frown. “Firecracker, lovely to see you here.”

“Cut the bullshit” you weren’t having it today. Had the three weeks away changed something? Had your observations just been wishful thinking? Why was he hiding things from you? They still didn’t trust you fully did they? Ah, that hurt. Hongjoong seemed to catch on by your tone and stance, the smile softening to something more genuinely welcoming. “It was San, he was giving me an update on the Vipers I-” “Am I not allowed to hear what you had to say?” You cut him off, still staring him down. You shouldn’t be getting so worked up, you really shouldn’t.

But Hongjoong seemed good at reading you, reaching out and holding his hand palm up. “Would it ease your mind to know what is going on? What he was telling me? Or can I ask you to trust me on this, and you can learn all about it later?” You stared at his hand for a moment, eyes running up his arm to the tattoos that covered his bicep. Briefly you glanced at the ink before meeting his eyes. “It’s a delicate matter?” You decided to ask, arms uncrossing to rest at your sides. “Yes. The war they have going on is turning into a bloodbath.” He didn’t elaborate, just smiled wider when you did take his hand finally. Gently he pulled you closer.

Relaxing a bit further, you let him. He didn’t need to explain, because you realized what he meant. The Vipers were losing everything, and the Wolves would take what they could from them. Killing, maiming, or selling off each member or even associate. “I see… what are we doing about it?” He lifted a brow at your choice of words, pulling you right between his knees and holding both of your hands. You don’t know why he insisted on this sort of touch, but you didn’t mind one bit. “Nothing we can do. We can’t pull San out safely, but there isn’t a way we can stop the Wolves either. Not without risking more. Did you come here to blow off some steam? Worried about him?” Slowly you nodded, staring at your joined hands. “I don’t want to punch anything, just not think. The Boas don’t care much for either, but I hear how ruthless the Wolves are. They’re scared of them much more than the Vipers and-” Your words were cut off as he pulled you onto his lap. “Captain?” “How do you think San can get out of this unscathed? I’m worried too, Firecracker, and even if we can’t do much, it’s better to have some hope that something can happen to save him. Right?” He was comforting you, wasn’t he? The notion had your cheeks warming, mind shifting to the question. With everything you knew, what needed to happen for San to be truly safe from the Wolves? “I… well the Vipers are no match for the Wolves alone but if they had help… then San’s chances of- well you know. The Guardians are the only ones who can stop the Wolves, but I don’t see how they would get involved. Not unless this war causes significantly more damage, or they believe it will.” Your original thought was the Guardians getting rid of the Wolves anyways. After all, the more you learned about them, the more you realized that the biggest, scariest monster out there was the Wolves. The Vipers would be easier to take down, same with the Goblins. The Golden Circle could just be bought out, most of them just greedy cowards. And the Guardians and Pirates? They cared more for regulation to an extent than chaos.

The Wolves enjoy being cruel for cruelty’s sake. Sadists, killers, men who wanted to see the world burn and wanted to be the hands responsible for it. People were toys to them. Ones they wanted to break and use any way they saw fit.

You’d rather see San with his busted lip and black eye from a fight in the ring rather than the possible torture the Wolves would put him through. “The Wolves won’t stop until every last Viper is dead or turned to them or sold. I’d rather the Vipers win, and that can't happen without the Guardians. Either working together or the Guardians step in to apply pressure to the Wolves to back them off.” Hongjoong’s sudden bright smile threw you off and you were on your feet in a second. “What?” He chuckled, just to pull you back down with enough force you tumbled into him, hands on his chest and lips suddenly on his. He swallowed up your squeak, pulling you fully onto his lap as his tongue sought yours. You hadn’t expected it, but he tasted so good that you didn’t want to pull away. Yet as soon as melted into him, he was separating your mouths. “You really are a genius, I think. That’s something we never thought of.” You blushed at his compliment, staring up at him as his fingers carded through your hair. “What ideas did you have?” “Ones that involved what the Vipers alone could do, or we as detectives. Sometimes we forget to take a step back and see all this from a different angle.” “I see… but can we really do anything like that?” He shrugged. “We could have Wooyoung or San suggest it. If the Vipers are smart, and want to survive, they’ll latch onto that idea hopefully before it’s too late.” Pride swelled through you, as well as respect. Hongjoong did respect you, to go from easing your worries, to turning your thoughts into something productive, and then backing your idea as an equal. All while he was kissing you, touching you, melting you in his arms like you were his lover.

“Captain-” “Please call me Hongjoong, or something like that outside the office. Especially when you’re in my arms like this.” He stopped you, arm tightening on your waist while his other hand massaged your scalp a bit. He chuckled at the pleased sound you made at the touch.

“H-Hongjoong… did Seonghwa- ah Hwa- tell you about…” You trailed off, eyelids getting heavy the more you relaxed in his embrace. He nodded. “S-so you know how much this means to me?” “I do, Firecracker. And he told you how things work, and his unofficial invitation?” When you nodded, his hand tightened in your hair enough to pull an unexpected moan from your lips. “I’m going to take how pliant you are in my arms as an acceptance of that if you keep this up. Wooyoung might be the most vocal about his desire for you, but I feel it just as intensely.” Your hands gripped his tank tightly, lips parted as you enjoyed the way he was getting a bit rough with your hair. Massage, then tug. Smooth then tug harder. “Then why pull me onto your lap?” “To treasure you, though I didn’t think you would let me.” He admitted, shifting you on his thighs a bit until you could feel his hard on against the side of your thigh. “Yeosang is going to get another show at this rate.” Laughing under your breath softly, you shifted on his lap. “Good. I’m not too happy about him telling you all about San and Chan. He likes to watch and then run his mouth to you all? I should show him what he’s going to miss because he’s always hiding behind those screens.” Detaching yourself from Hongjoong, you stood back up between his legs, wrapping your arms loosely around his shoulders to card your fingers through his hair at the base of his neck, just under the cap. Latching your lips onto his to keep him from questioning you, your mind wandered to Yeosang and the expressions he made when he had been watching you and Wooyoung. Would he make those now? Better yet… What expressions would Hongjoong make?

With your lips still attached, brushing over his soft ones, letting him chase yours with each stroke, your hands ran down his chest. His shirt stuck to him with damp sweat, muscles tensing under your fingertips: first over his pecs, which had a nice curve to them, and then over his stomach. The lower they got, the more desperate his lips on yours.

The sound he made, the breathy whine as you cupped his sizable bulge in his shorts, turned you on even more. So eager to see just how far you could push him.

In a way, this was your first time initiating with them. As you slipped down onto your knees, palming at his hardening cock through the material of his shorts, you acknowledged the fact he hadn’t asked for this, or done much to make you want him: you just wanted him, and wanted to do this. Wooyoung had begged and begged. And Mingi had wanted to prove to you how much he wanted you. You just let them have the opportunity, reaping the ecstasy they gave you. And as much as you loved taking what they had to offer, you wanted to give back as well. In particular to the man before you. The man who was trying so hard not to pull your hair too much. Who was gripping the seat beneath him as his hips rolled up into your hands, pretty lips parted and swallowed from your kisses.

If Hongjoong had turned you away, or tried to block you at every turn like you had expected him to do before meeting him, you wouldn’t have this growing warmth in your heart at every thought of them. The swell of pride at your ongoing work. You wouldn’t have a confidant in San and Seonghwa. Wouldn’t have the eager lovers Wooyoung and Mingi. The witty banter of Yunho and Yeosang.

And perhaps, pressing your lips to where you could feel his tip twitching beneath the material, you wanted to convince them that they had to have you, just as you had to have them.

Selfish, greedy, maybe a little manipulative: that’s what you thought of yourself as you pulled his shorts down enough to expose his cock, staring up at him with a question in your eyes. 

Maybe you were all those things, but it was worth it as he tightened his hold on your strands significantly and pulled you against his cock, smearing the bit of precum and sweat on your lips and cheek, pleading with you. “Take what you want, gorgeous, I’m yours to use.”

How could you deny him- deny yourself- when he looked so delectable like this? 

Taking the invitation for what it was, your tongue ran up his length as your hands worked his pants down further. His words rang in your head, the adoration mixed with lust in his expression adding to the pit of emotions coursing through you.

With your lips wrapping around his tip, eyes focused on his expression, you marveled at the warm metal now clicking against your teeth. Quickly you pulled away and glanced down, breath hitching at the metal bar on the underside of his tip, right through the soft flesh in between the twi curves of his hood. “Oh fuck-” Mingi and him? Different places but you could remember how the piercing felt… if you took Hongjoong inside, you’d feel the metal scraping against your walls and the thought had you dripping in your underwear.

Wanting him to want that just as much, you took him back in your mouth, humming as you quickly took as much of him as you could. His eyes rolled back momentarily, breath hitching and fingers curling in your hair. He could fuck your mouth right now and you’d let him.

You’d let him do a lot of things if he continued to let out sweet whines like the one that just fell from his pretty lips. He wasn’t small, but definitely not Mingi’s size. But Hongjoong never needed size to get his point across, or for you to notice him- there was much more about him and the man utilized that to command a room and gain a grip on anyone he wished. 

Right now you were the one in his grip, both figuratively and literally, as you pushed his shorts down and spread his thighs wider. Shuffling a bit closer, you took more of him in, humming around his cock once more as it hit the back of your throat, nose so close to his pelvis, but you managed. The sweat didn’t bother you, neither did the feel of the hard floor under your knees, not when he seemed to be unraveling at your touch. You were enjoying him so much you swore you could suck him off for hours without a reprieve. So what if your throat was sore? If you were tasting his cum and sweat for hours after with every drink and food you devoured? Pressing your tongue up as you pulled off his length, sure to add even more pressure to the piercing and was rewarded with a whiny moan as his body reacted: hips bucking and hand tightening in your hair to hold you still.

Oh so it made him sensitive?

Bobbing your head back down, taking as much of his length as you felt comfortable with, you focused more attention on his tip. Every time you pulled away you added pressure, letting your teeth scrape against it or twisting your head just enough as you pushed back down.

Hongjoong was noisy, between high pitched pants, to low curses under his breath, his fingers in your hair a give away to what he liked best. You used that to your advantage, nails digging into the inside of his thighs when you realized he liked that.

“Ah- fuck- gorgeous- Gunna make me- mmm fuck fuck~” His head kept rolling back but he would push forward to watch you as much as he could, mouth hanging open, teeth clenching in little hisses of pleasure. You hummed and moaned around his cock, picking up pace and pressure as your own need was clouding your thoughts. Have him cum first then maybe you could convince him to fuck you in the showers.

Your nails dug into his thighs more when he started pushing you, just slightly as if guiding, down on his cock. His head rolled back again, moans gaining volume as your name and praise joined the sweet sounds.

In awe of him you nearly choked when his thick cum hit the back of your throat in spurts. You pushed away a bit, lips still latched onto his twitching tip as he emptied his pretty balls on your tongue.

He lifted his head once he was spent, panting heavily and meeting your gaze. He slipped out of your mouth with a loud pop, your tongue lolling out to show the bit of cum still pooled there before you made a show of swallowing it.

“Fuck, Firecracker… I didn’t expect you to do this.” He smoothed out your hair, your scalp a little sensitive from how hard his grip had been.

Smiling, you rested your head on the inside of his knee, smoothing over the crescent marks you had made with your nails and admiring the piercing on his softening cock. “I wanted to. Wanted to show I want you too. I know I wasn’t as… vocal about it. Maybe with work but not in this way.” You tilted your head to look up at him, licking your lips and still tasting him on them. “If you have time… would the showers be private enough? I think Yeosang got enough of a show.” He chuckled, pushing the hair out of your face before gently tapping your cheek. “I should. Stand up for me?” 

Once you did you watched as he pulled up his underwear and shorts. Now you had a moment to admire the work on his arm, you liked learning about them and most people got tattoos that represented a part of them. Plus, tattoos were big in the underworld, often a way to show your rank or who you belonged to.

You noted a few portraits, black rimmed hats and masks, the eyes sharp. There were eight, you counted, surrounded by waves with… with a pirate boat detailed on the upper part of his arm. 

He called your name, moving just as you took note of a few letters on his arm. Sex was no longer on your mind, your brow furrowed as your mouth fell open to speak the first question that formed instead.

But the words were overshadowed by an alarm ringing through the gym and Hongjoong cursing. “Fuck- there’s an emergency.” He quickly pecked your cheek. “Head back to your apartment and wait for a call? I’ll let you know when everything’s okay.” He started grabbing his other things, but you were in shock.

The alarm turned off once he was gone but you were still rooted in place.

From the letters you had been able to make out, two of them had been “B” and “P”, just like Mingi had. 

Were they part of the Black Pirates? Were they… the enemy?

Taglist (Capped): @mingsolo | @wowie-hockey | @crispybaguettes | @tiny-apocalypse

| @philijack | @lelaleleb | @isiloiale | @vannabanana1995  | @piratequeen-queenofgames

| @starstruckforyou | @minheeskitten | @amphiroxx  | @cloudysannie | @sugarnspice630

| @sanhwalvr | @plutoneu |  @sousydive |  @fatalt | @iwishiwasrichasfuck

| @bitchwhytho | @st4rhwa | @thesafecafe | @alextheweeb7 | @ddaeing

Taglist will be continued in a reblog!!

[machveil]

KONIG + GHOST WITH AN S/O WHO WANTS TO DANCE I THE RAIN

making out with that beautiful brain of yours oh my god

dancing in the rain with: Simon “Ghost” Riley, König + Simon and König

Simon “Ghost” Riley:

Simon’s a little skeptical at first, it’s not a light drizzle after all - it’s a good summer rain. but when you’re practically dragging him out the door? his shoulders slump and he sighs, “Hold on, jacket— can’t have you getting sick, love.”

truth be told, Simon’s not much of a dancer. if a song he likes comes on the radio the most he’ll do is tap his foot, maybe bob his head. so when you’re hand in hand and he watches you kick a puddle, dancing around in the rain? he’s willing to embarrass himself for you

and, oh man, is he an awkward dancer. ridiculous, a Lieutenant, built like a tank, trying to dance for his partner. he’s all elbows, hands in tight fists as he tries to match your energy - he’s really trying. he’s tense, it looks like he’s gearing up to hit a punching bag rather than dancing

looks like you have to step in - taking his hands in yours. “You look like you’re trying to fight me, Simon. C’mon, loosen up!”, you laugh, trying to get him to shimmy with you on the pavement, “I am loose.”, he deadpans, footwork a little sloppy. but, as he gets used to the way you’re moving, his jaw goes a little slack, he becomes a little lighter on his feet. there’s one thing he can do, and it makes your cheeks feel a little hot against the cool rain

hand on the small of your back, Simon dips you - weight supported by his palm. and when he brings the hand he’s holding up to his lips, a firm kiss the back of your hand, he cracks a smile, “This loose enough, lovie?”

König:

“You want me to dance, liebling?”, he asks, amused by the request. he glances out the window - spring, budding flowers dotting the trees and leaves sprouting on bushes. he’s taking your hand and leading you out the door, “Ja, why not, Maus.”

he humors you, but he’s a romantic at heart. he can’t deny the feeling in his stomach, butterflies flitting about. his heart squeezing with affection as you spin, droplets of rain rolling down your skin. he’s mesmerized by how you move, it doesn’t matter if you’re actually dancing or just kicking puddles

it’s surprising how the giant man can be so light on his feet - and he’s matching the rhythm you set. he’ll spin you, twirl you around, and he won’t let you fall. he doesn’t say anything, just grins behind his damp hood as you laugh and smile

but when he stops suddenly you look up at him, eyebrows raising as he settles his hands your hips, “König? What’re you— König!”, suddenly you’re in his arms, his hands shifting to hold the backs of your thighs as he picks you up - and easily too. “Was? I’m just dancing, Schatz.”

now he’s laughing softly, accent thick as he shuffles, “Ich liebe dich.”, he coos. you’re both thoroughly soaked by the time you go inside, a small cold hitting you both - but that’s okay, it was worth it

Simon “Ghost” Riley + König:

it’s almost comical to them - their arms crossed as you beg them to come outside with you, “Please— guys, come on! I can’t go out there alone, I’ll look dumb.”. Simon silently cocking his head to the side while König chuckles, “Dumm? Oh, liebling, we wouldn’t want that.”, he hums

König’s always one to give into your whims, the people pleaser in him comes out when you’re around. Simon, ever the straight man of the duo, is making sure the Austrian doesn’t rush you out the door, “Easy there, I’m not taking care of your ass if you get sick.”, he huffs, tossing a jacket at König. walking up to you, Simon drapes a jacket over your shoulders, lightly ruffling your hair, “And you’re too good t’get sick, love.”

once everyone is ready to face the rain though? it’s Simon dragging you out the door, “C’mon, you wanted this.”, voice gravely as walks down to the pavement with you, König following close behind. it’s silly - your 6’3”/~190cm Brit and behemoth 6’10”/~208cm Austrian boyfriends getting drenched while dancing with you. they’d happily make fools out of themselves to see you smile - your laughter echoing down the street

it’s hard taking turns dancing with them, it ends in a pissing contest over who the better dance partner is König, sorry Simon. four hands pulling you every which way - they’re constantly moving, from your hips and waist, over your hands and tracing up your arms

it’s not long before you three rush back inside - the sky clearing up, your shoes damp and their masks soaked. the moods light as everyone dries off, clothes shrugged off in exchange for loungewear

they could definitely be convinced to dance with you again

[brotherwtf]

Nah but sub! Top Bucky being a brat, Gale tying Bucky down and just riding Bucky and edging him until he’s sobbing!

Your writing is soooo good! I love it so much

THESE ARE HOLY WORDS SUB TOP BRAT BUCKY??? meet me at the altar rn this is basically a marriage proposal to me

nah but John is a BRAT, especially when he's had a couple of drinks in him. he'll talk back to Gale, maybe makes fun of him a little bit for not liking sports or drinking, but Gale is used to this so he doesn't entertain it

but John keeps pushing, keeps getting on Gale's nerves, keeps being like "what are you going to do about it? punish me?" think along the lines of the Stalag fight, fighting until he literally can't fight anymore

so when Gale finally breaks, he shoves John into their bedroom, forces him on the bedroom and says "yeah, I am gonna punish you. But you'd probably like it, you're a fucking whore for it," and oh, John is in HEAVEN

since he doesn't know when to quit, John keeps talking instead of playing it safe and shutting up, goading Gale and telling him he won't really punish John, he loves him too much

but Gale has this stern expression on his face when he grabs his ropes, forces John to strip, and of course when John doesn't want to spread his legs or arms Gale forcefully takes them and chooses to be rough with him

of course this is about the time where John realizes he's goofed, especially when Gale takes off his clothes nice and slow, maintaining eye contact with him the entire time

he does that thing that drives John crazy where he reaches across his stomach to lift his shirt up, pushing his ass out so it accentuates both his ass and his waist, and Johns basically pulling at his restraints because Gale looks so damn HOT, but he can't touch

he realizes this is his punishment, having to watch Gale pleasure himself while John can't touch him at all, and he's fucking gone, all bets are off

Gale would seductively crawl between his legs, suck him off while looking obscenely up through his lashes, making those obnoxious moans and gags as he takes all of John into his throat

he sucks and swallows until Johns bucking his hips up, he's so close and he thinks that Gale might just let him come, but Gale pulls off and shakes his head, climbing off of the bed to grab the lube

John's shaking at this point, he's so achingly hard he can hardly stand it, and it doesn't help that Gales purposefully bending over just so, god Gale is just being such a tease

Gale forces John to watch as he opens himself up, makes those same obnoxious noises from before just to make John go crazy, and the poor boy is whining now, begging for Gale to let him touch

but Gale just shrugs his shoulders, "you should have thought about that before you decided to be bratty tonight" and immediately bottoms out on John's cock

it punches the prettiest sounds from John, lovely little sobs and whimpers as Gale rides him, pressing his hands into the muscle of John's chest and squeezing, overstimulating him just so

Gale can tell John's close when his whimpers get even higher in his throat, so he pulls off right before John's going to come, cooing at the way John's hips thrust into the air to get some release

John begs and begs for Gale to let him come, but Gale shrugs his shoulders, tells him he should have been good, and orders John to put his clothes back on, he wasn't going to come tonight no matter how much he begged

[feelingtheaster99]

I am so proud of lil Conrad for continuing to stick up for himself and for the Big Guy

[tender-rosiey]

“GOOD! NOW PUNCH HIS FACE!”

— when your baby and gojo, geto, nanami, toji, and sukuna get protective over you (f!reader)

a/n: I am alive!! as an apology here is a multi-character post 🙏 btw in toji's part, you're megumi's mom

GOJO SATORU:

two peas in a pod, twins, copies: these are all things people have called your husband and son.

honestly, they’re not wrong. your son has his father’s looks—satoru swears he has your nose and ears but anyway—and he carries the same protectiveness and love he holds for you, if not amplified.

you can’t count on one hand the amount of times the house has been turned upside down because of their fights for a cuddle session with you.

of course, you have always tried suggesting them simply sharing you, but these problem children would rather eat raw zucchini than ever share the cuddle time.

so while your son is barely six, you can still count on him to team up with satoru against anyone who wrongs you in anyway like what’s happening right now for example.

you’re out with your lovely family to buy some groceries, and since they both were whining about getting some sweets, you allowed them to go and snatch a couple from the next aisle.

on the other hand, you stayed to look for another type of detergent to clean the floor—especially since satoru got this new type of paint for s/n and it’s quite an endeavor to remove it with a regular detergent.

however, being in the cleaning supplies section never guaranteed the lack of filthy men who can’t take no for an answer. this one man approaches you, smug grin on his face as he leans on the wall, “what’s a pretty lady like you doing alone?”

“buying groceries like a normal person; now please leave me alone.”

he quickly frowns, “don’t be so stingy doll,” his hand extends towards your arm, “I can show you a good time; I promise—“

the man is swiftly smacked with an egg on his face, and he is left with the egg dripping down his face, “what’s your wrong with your kid, man?!” he yells at the person behind you.

he then grumbles, “ruined a potential good night.”

“my kid was absolutely right in what he did,” you hear satoru’s voice. you then feel a hand on your shoulder, and you’re pulled into a chest you’re all too familiar with, “’toru—“

your husband shoots a small smile your way, pressing a quick kiss to your lips, before looking at his son, “that last throw was very good, s/n! throw another one but just below his stomach."

a cheshire cat-like grin is plastered on your husband’s face as s/n prepares to launch another egg at the man.

there is a very evident scowl on your son’s face as he yells, “don’t you ever bother mama again, you stinky bum crumb!”

the man gasps and tries to make a run for it, but your son wouldn’t be the son of gojo satoru if he doesn’t manage to land the hit exactly where he wants.

the man quickly crumbles to the ground screaming and alerting literally everyone in the store.

so satoru picks both you and s/n and makes a run for it.

you hold tightly onto him, “wait, ‘toru, the groceries!”

“we can always order! saving my princess and son is more important!”

your son grumbles, “but I want to hit the rude man!”

“me too, champ, but—“ satoru sweat-drops and glances behind him, “I doubt the angry security guards would like that!”

GETO SUGURU:

your twin girls are one of the sassiest to exist.

in a way, they take after their father who is also pretty sassy but very low-key.

the sass of all three combined is terrible to be the victim of. luckily for you, they don’t dare direct their triple ray towards you, especially—in any argument—at least one will try to win you over.

if it’s suguru trying to stay on your good side, then he is hugging you from behind, pressing feather-like kisses on your shoulder and whispering about how sweet you are. if it’s the girls, then they cling to your legs and keep yelling about how much they love you.

so it is safe to say that you have a small squad to protect you from any potential “danger”.

“oh my, dear shouldn’t you focus on refining yourself a bit more?” you hear a woman say beside you.

you turn towards her, offended, “excuse me?”

“I mean,” her eyes scan you, disapprovingly, “you look average at best, and with that you won’t be able to find yourself a husband, let alone have children.”

you’re still processing her audacity as she continues, “but then again, it’s probably for the better that you don’t have children; you can barely take care of yourself.”

“can I help you?” your husband says as he approaches the woman.

she smiles condescendingly before chuckling, “I was simply telling this lady to take care of herself more; she hardly looks presentable.”

geto’s smiles tenses up as he is about to give the woman a calm peace of his mind, but his daughters beat him to it.

your older twin stands in front of the woman, scanning her with pure disgust in her eyes.

she grimaces and voices out her thoughts, “you are like a crunchy lizard.”

the woman gasps, “how dare you—!”

you cut off the woman, curious about your daughter’s conclusion, “why a crunchy lizard, sweetheart?”

your daughter looks at you with a small frown, shaking her head, “a crunchy lizard is an ugly sad lizard.”

a snort escapes your husband, and you’re barely able to contain your smile.

your other daughter follows up, looking at her twin sister, “the lady looks like that one green thingy we saw yesterday,” she taps her little foot, trying to remember and beams at the woman, “shrek! you look like shrek!”

then they both glare at her, frowning, “you’re a monkey!”

your husband doesn’t let it go as he deals the final—subtle—blow, “come on now girls; we shouldn’t bully the lady with the mcdonald’s like hairline anymore.”

it seems like the woman can’t take it anymore as she starts sobbing and running to the hills.

a moment of silence is shared across the four of you, before you carry both of your girls in your arms and start tickling them, “I don’t know whether to be proud of you or scold you, little evil girls!”

they squeal, trying to escape your hold and calling for their father.

geto chuckles and wraps his arms around the three of you, “let them have it for tonight, y/n,” he ruffles their hair, “they were brave and defended their mom, after all.”

“yeah, papa is right!”

“yes mama, please!”

you pout then smirk at geto, “well I don’t mind, and since papa is also very proud of you girls, he will buy any toy that you guys want today!”

the color drains from your husband’s face, and he watches motionlessly as his girls latch onto him, screaming about the toys they want.

you giggle at his expression and blow him a kiss. he reluctantly blows you one back, while the girls excitedly pull him towards the toy store.

NANAMI KENTO:

you and your husband were blessed with the sweetest girl as your daughter, and she was just recently joined by another sweet girl.

you can never forget the happiness on your daughter’s face when she saw her baby sister.

it also seems that no matter how many times you give birth, your husband can’t help but get emotional when he holds your baby. his hands are forever delicate as he cradles her to his chest.

you remember what he said during the birth of your first daughter.

“I feel like a piece of heaven has been plucked and placed in my arms.”

the way he always goes soft for the three of you is honestly adorable.

today, you were going on an outing with your—now 6 months old—baby and your older daughter who is almost six.

your husband never brags about his muscular form, but he never misses a chance to carry the baby or the baby supplies.

you have offered to at least carry the bag, but he always refuses, stating that ‘you already carried the baby for nine entire months in your belly; this is the least I can do.’

so yeah, sometimes you wish to smooch your husband till forever, but that’s not the point.

you’re walking hand in hand with your daughter as she sings her favorite song. you hear someone click their tongue, so you look to the side and lock eyes with an old lady. she takes the opportunity and approaches you.

“you should be ashamed of yourself!” she yells pointing at you, “your husband shouldn’t be carrying the baby supplies nor the baby itself for the matter,” she scowls, “that’s your job!”

“with all due respect ma’am, but that isn’t her job, and taking care of the baby should be something we are both responsible for.”

“yeah!” your daughter huffs, “and don’t take out your sad life on my mama!”

your eyes widen as you stare at your daughter.

on the other side, your husband is just as speechless. your daughter pays no one any mind as she continues, “mama works hard every day! you wouldn’t know that! you immature nugget!”

nanami frowns lightly, “d/n, that’s not nice—“

and for the cherry on top, your baby daughter throws the bottle cap she was playing with at the old lady, and frowns at her.

she starts babbling some nonsense that you're pretty sure are curse words in baby language.

having had enough, the old lady huffs, “the utter disrespect,” and starts walking away.

the rest of the spectators’ eyes follow her till she is out of sight. finally then, people start minding their own business, and you and your little family are left to the aftermath.

you giggle, “that was funny.”

“really?!” your daughter beams.

nanami cuts her off, “no,” he then looks at you with a small frown, a sigh escaping his lips, “y/n don’t encourage them—“

your baby daughter screams happily when she sees her sister smile. she starts kicking her feet with the biggest smile on her own face.

your older daughter starts laughing with her and tries to make her little sister laugh more—she was successful.

meanwhile, you chuckle, leaning on your husband’s shoulder, “admit it, kento; it was kind of funny.”

his resolve softens at the sound of laughter from all three of his girls, “okay, maybe a little, but—“

“yay!!”

ladies: 1

kento: 0

FUSHIGURO TOJI:

your husband and son are so alike, save for the part that your husband is a bit more shameless, and your son is more on the shy side.

however, they both have the same bluntness and the tendency to give anyone who they don’t like attitude.

for example, today, you were walking in the park with the both of them to unwind a bit.

not to mention that megumi wanted to walk his dogs which was a plus, since you would be able to watch your dear son play around with them.

it was all going great until you saw an old ‘friend’ who came running at the sight of you. he was someone who has always been way too touchy and in your personal bubble.

you have tried talking to him about it, but you’re confident that he does it to somehow force you into reciprocating the intimacy.

even if you’re a married woman with a freaking kid.

he giddily clasps your hand, “y/n, ‘been a long time!”

“h-hey,” you smile awkwardly.

he laughs, “I was passing by when I saw your figure, and I couldn’t help but come and say hi.”

you nod, “that’s great, but I am busy, so maybe later?—“

“you’ve gotten even prettier!” he exclaims, “I wish you would finally take me out on a—“

“can’t you see that she is uncomfortable?” your son retorts, “also, you should step back; you shouldn’t touch someone like this without asking them.”

megumi squeezes himself between the both you and glares at the man.

the guy was about to reply to your son, but toji pushes him back with ease, pulling you beside him and hand resting on your waist almost by instinct, “kid is right,” he tilts his head a bit, “ever been taught manners or do I have to do the teaching for you?”

the guy is taken back; offended, he snaps “you can’t speak to me like that!”

“and you can’t hold my mom’s hands like that, but here we are,” your son cleverly sasses him.

on the other hand, your—shameless—husband pulls you into one scandalous kiss and smirks at the guy when he pulls back, “and you can’t hit on a married woman, by the way.”

you hear your son gag in disgust at his dad’s actions, but you’re too busy burying your face in your husband’s chest, hoping that the guy disappears before toji makes even more of a bigger scene.

you also hope that the ground would swallow you, but that’s the alternative option.

the guy clutches his fist, before walking away, spewing insults at the sky—since he is too scared to cuss out your buff husband. once the man is out of sight, toji ruffles megumi’s hair, chuckling, “good job, kid.”

your shy bean’s cheeks redden slightly as he looks away, “…thanks.”

you’re still thinking about what just happened when you slap your husband’s chest, “toji, literally why?” you grumble, patting megumi who started holding onto your leg the moment you hugged toji.

“why not,” your husband shrugs with a small smile, taking pride in your flustered form.

“dad, I want ice cream.”

“no, you just want me to let go your mom, so you can hog her for yourself,” toji grumbles, staring down at megumi.

unfaltering, megumi looks up at him ,“dad, I want ice cream.”

“god damn it, listen here you—“

“divine dogs.”

RYOMEN SUKUNA:

there is no denying that both your son and your husband care for you very much, and they both—very aggressively—compete for your attention.

I am talking he literally throws the kid across the room kind of aggressive, and your son, in turn, throws whatever he has at him.

it’s eventful, but you would be lying if you said that it wasn’t one of the reasons why you will get grey hair earlier than everyone else.

so their very aggressive nature is also shown in their protectiveness over you.

a person doesn’t need to insult or even dare flirt with you for your devil duo to make their life a living hell; your husband and son don’t tolerate someone speaking to you if it causes you to ignore both of them.

for example, this one new servant was clueless to where the broom is, and unluckily for him, he saw you sitting with your husband and son in the gardens. he humbly approached you, “excuse me, m’lady.”

you turn to look at him with a smile, “yes?”

he clears throat, a bit flustered by the attention, “I—I wanted to ask where the—“

“up your ass, you disgusting fiend,” your son sneers followed by his father’s ever-permanent scowl.

“who gave you the permission to come and speak to her so casually?” sukuna presses, and the servant quickly falls to his knees.

“m-my apologies, my lord! I did not mean to disturb you!”

sukuna crosses his arms, “well, you did, and you also disturbed your queen and prince,” his eyes narrow at the servant, “what do you have to say for yourself?”

meanwhile, you’re watching all of that, mouth agape and trying to articulate anything to save the poor guy. you finally find your voice, “sukuna, it’s okay; he didn’t mean—“

your son hugs you tightly and glares at the servant, “to think he would so brazenly speak to you like you’re old friends is terrible, mother.”

you can almost see your son’s cursed energy flaring, and you can spot the small smirk on your husband’s face as he watches his son.

before it escalates any further and you find yet another dead corpse in your palace, you pick up your son, kissing his cheek which makes him flustered and causing him to bury his face in your neck.

you look at the servant, “you’re dismissed, and you can ask the head maid about anything you need, okay?”

“y-yes, m’lady!” he, however, stays glued to the ground, “may I have the permission to lift my head?”

sukuna grunts, “sure.”

“thank you, m’lord,” the servant says, before scurrying towards the gate, having secured his freedom after his little mistake.

or at least, that’s what he thought.

your husband slices his legs off with a flick of a finger, and your son, who has inherited his father’s technique, slices the head off.

and so the body falls to the ground, and the other servants hurriedly start cleaning up the mess.

you frown at your husband, “sukuna! he apologized!”

he rolls his eyes, and pulls you by the waist, “do I look like I care? he shouldn’t have interrupted our time together.”

“aww, you’re jealous!”

“no, I am not—“

“hands off, old man!”

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do not copy or plagiarize or you will be reported

[solarplanet2]

Which one is in Danger?

Part 2

DCxDP Prompt/Drabbles

Part 1

"We have your son."

Bruce was expecting a very normal day. If you consider having to deal with the chaos of his children and being a vigilante at night as normal.

But nonetheless, a very simple day of his normal routine and once a week dinner with his family.

Only to be broken by a phone call by someone stating that his son has been kidnapped.

Bruce didn't answer right away, he was mentally counting his sons who, are all counted for, are on the dinner table.

"Which one?" Bruce eyed each of his sons and counted them again just to be sure.

"Timothy Drake-Wayne."

Bruce immediately eyed Tim who was sitting in between Jason and Cass.

Tim's here.

Then who's the one being kidnapped?

"Bruce?" Dick spoke up, thinking that something was wrong the way Bruce was looking at all of them.

Bruce slightly waved at Dick, telling him to calm down first. "What do you want?"

Dick's question seemed to catch everyone's attention since they were all looking at Bruce now.

"Two Million. Or he gets it."

A standard threat. The kind he was expecting.

"Can I speak to my son?" This earned confused looks of his children and Bruce waved them off gesturing that it was not what they were thinking about.

"Alright kid," The kidnapper from the other said grunted, almost sounding smug. "Say hello to Daddy."

Bruce could hear heavy breathing, almost sounding like a grunt. It made Bruce slightly worried. "...Tim?" Bruce decided to speak first. "Tim, Are you okay?" And Bruce hopes that he is.

A soft grunt responded. "Hi." A croaked voice managed to respond. It sounded young. And was punched in the stomach. He should know, almost all of his children had experienced that way.

"Don't worry, chum. I'm getting you out of there." Bruce tried reassuring the kid, worried about what they might do to him. Because this isn't Tim. Tim is right across from him and these kidnappers basically had kidnapped the wrong person.

He gestured to his children, a familiar gesture, for them to head to the cave and suit up. They quickly followed, not without worried glances and confused glances at Bruce's way.

"No.." The kid had said, choked out which made Bruce paused on his step in confusion. It caught his children's attention, stopping as well.

"Uhm...Dad? I'll be fine."

Bruce believed that, for some reason, but it didn't stop his worry. But the next words from the boy made him blink

"Please give me your permission."

"....To what?" Bruce asked confusingly. Permission to what?

"To hurt."

Bruce has raised enough children to know enough about silent words in some part of the sentences without right out saying it.

To hurt them.

The kid is asking permission to hurt his kidnappers.

Bruce should say no and wait for help. Should be saying that help is on the way.

Bruce should say that he'll come and save him.

Now, Bruce doesn't normally follow his gut. It causes too much mystery and had no explanation to either it would be a good thing or a bad thing.

But right now, for once, Bruce would agree with his gut.

"....Alright."

Static came in the phone, like it was losing signal but he could clearly hear the boy voice coming out like an echo.

"Good."

"What the-- AAAHHH!!!"

Beeeepppp

Bruce blinked as he looked down at his phone after the call ended.

.....Should he have not give him permission?

"B? What's wrong? Did something happen?" Dick asked, increasingly worried now as he saw Bruce staring at his phone.

"....Suit up." Bruce concluded. They should find the boy as quickly as possible. "And call an ambulance."

Bruce could see the confused look at everyone's faces as he walked passed them.

"Wait, B!" Duke had spoke up running after Bruce with his siblings. "Was someone hurt? Is it another gang fight?"

"No. The ambulance is for the kidnappers."

".....What??"

: )

Parts: Part 1

[trumanbluee]

you're the one that i want - deadpool / wade wilson

minors dni !! this is 17+ nsfw material !!!

please reblog if you like it! ᡣ𐭩

based on this request! <3

content: three words, baby! the honda odyssey!

word count: 2.5k

warnings: established relationship, no mention of condom (wrap it b4 u tap it!), petnames galore, deadpool is a warning in of himself lol.

a/n: the deadpool brainrot has been so strong recently so thank u guys so much for all ur requests! my return to my deadpool era couldn't have come at a worse time with my exams happening rn but i will try and write as much as i can! love you!

You'd been sitting in the backseat of the "fuck-ass Honda Odyssey", as Wade had described it, arm resting on the centre console, your head propped up on your palm lamely as you turn it left to right, half-listening to Wade and Logan argue like you're at a tennis match.

You'd almost flown forward into the front of the car when it came to an abrupt stop, tyres screeching as you let out a soft yelp in surprise. Wade hears you, and wordlessly pushes you back softly. You'd heard something spat out from Logan, along the lines of "You'll never save the fucking world!", followed by Wade's voice saying, "I'm gonna fight you now." and then the sound of a sickening crunch as he punches Logan in the nose.

It's milliseconds before you see your boyfriend's arm reach back and open your door, gently ushering you out with a soft, "Why don't you go for a walk, pretty girl?"

You know better than to argue, especially with Logan seething in the front seat, so you hop out of the car, shutting the door behind you as you trudge off into the trees, half grateful for being kicked out of the car so you didn't have to listen to Logan's grumbles when you inevitably had to ask him to pull over so you could pee.

You could hear the yelling and grunting in the distance, shaking your head as you hear the faint shatter of glass, followed by a - less than masculine - squeal from your boyfriend. You laughed to yourself, not worried in the slightest as you hear the fighting between the two, Logan's growls echoing through the trees as he squelches his claws into your boyfriend's stomach.

You'd told Wade to give Logan a break, and that eventually he would find out about his 'educated wish', but he hadn't listened, instead continuing to push and push and push Logan until, expectedly, he reached his breaking point.

You wandered around amongst the trees for a while, before slumping against a tree not too far from the car, your eyes growing heavy as you listened to the soft rustle of the leaves above you.

You wake up groggily, looking around the room as you rub sleep from your eyes. You startle when a red suit appears in front of you, but it's not the Deadpool suit that you're all too familiar with.

"I'm Elektra, that's Gambit," the woman points to a man in a helmet, who's stood in the corner, playing with cards, "and that's Blade," she points over her shoulder with her thumb to the man in a long, leather trench-coat.

"I.. uhm.. Hi?" you say, taken aback by this sudden bombardment of strangers.

"We're helping you and your friends get out of the void." Elektra explains, offering her hand to help you stand up. You take it gratefully.

"...Oh, cool..." you say, still groggy from being asleep for so long. "..are.. are they around?"

Elektra nods, pointing outside with her head, "Yellow's by the fire, Red's... around here somewhere."

You nod, thanking her and smiling awkwardly at Blade and Gambit as you walk outside, the smoke from the fire consuming your nostrils as you step out. You spot Logan by the fire, but see that he's sitting with someone.

'She looks an awful lot like that X-23 girl we saw at the TVA.' you think, not ruling out the possibility that it is her with the level of weirdness that had already occurred during your short time in the void. You tread on, looking around before you spot the Honda Odyssey. You shake your head, rolling your eyes as you walk to the drivers door of the car, opening it to reveal your boyfriend in the back-seat, pulling his katana's out of the passenger's seat next to you as you plop into the driver's seat.

He looks up when he hears the car door open, and the white eyes of his mask visible soften as he sees you.

"Hey baby," he coos, scooching forward in the back-seat to press a soft kiss to your cheek through his mask as you sit in the driver's seat, peeking over the headrest to look back at him, "was wonderin' when you were gonna wake up, sleepy head."

You smile softly, before taking a moment to look around at the damage done to the car. Your eyes go wide and your hand flies to your mouth, the other reaching back to swat at Wade's shoulder.

"Wade! What the fuck did you two get up to in here? Jesus Christ!"

You hear a whisper of 'Baby Knife!' followed by a soft grunt as Wade pockets another one of his knives.

"Just some good ol' fashioned fightin', baby! I'm kinda sad you missed it, that shit got good!"

You tut, leaning around the driver's seat to look at him as he's hunched over, digging for another one of his knives beneath the seat.

You hear him mumble something along the lines of 'Hate this fuckin' car' before he shoots up, and you can sense his smile through the mask. He leans back in the seats that are in the very back of the car, right leg thrown over one seat, with his other leg spread, suit-clad knee pressing into the fabric of the other. His eyes sharpen as he looks at you, before groaning softly, throwing his head back in a circle, and sighing.

"Fuck, princess, that fightin's gotten me all worked up," he groans, chin pressed to the top of his chest as he looks at you, eyes narrowed.

You feel your thighs rub together at the way he looks at you, the manspreading the cherry on top of a very, very, delicious looking dessert. He chuckles, gesturing to your thighs with his head.

"Saw that, baby." He laughs to himself before he lifts his hand, beckoning you to him with two fingers, his other hand resting on the headrest of the seat in front of him, twiddling Baby Knife between his fingers.

You squirm in your seat before not so agilely climbing over the centre console, crawling over the seat and onto Wade’s lap. He pockets Baby Knife, bringing a hand up to pull the bottom of his mask up, the other settling on your ass as you straddle his waist. 

“Hey doll-face,” he murmurs, smiling and giving your ass a playful squeeze, pulling his mask fully off before placing his hand on the nape of your neck, pulling you into a kiss. 

You moan against his lips as you kiss back, his gloved hand giving your ass a firmer squeeze. Wade uses this opportunity to deepen the kiss, slipping his tongue past your lips as you gasp into his mouth. Your hips grind down subconsciously and he pulls away from the kiss, both of your chests rising quickly as you both try and regain your breath from the heated kiss. 

Wade smirks up at you, moving both of his hands to your hips, squeezing softly, pulling a giggle from your lips before he’s engulfing them in another breathless kiss. He moves your hips with his hands, grinding you down on his boner as it tents in his suit, causing him to buck up absentmindedly as he groans into your mouth. Your breathy whimpers vibrate against his lips, and he pulls away, leaning his head back against the headrest behind him. 

“…Fuck, doll-face,” he groans, looking up at you, “ look what you're fuckin’ do to me, baby.” 

He nods down to his dick, almost bursting out of his suit, and your mouth nearly drops open. Wade thinks to himself that if you were in an animé, you’d have heart emojis bulging from your eyes. 

He takes his hands off your hips, crossing his arms behind his head in faux-laziness as he watches you undo the buckle of his belt, slapping the sides of his legs softly, signalling for him to lift his hips. 

“Watch it, doll-face.” Wade warns, half-joking, “Ask me nicely, please.” 

You groan, giving him your ‘are-you-fucking-serious-right-now’ glare as you tug at his belt. He’d been on the receiving end of this look many times in the past, so he’s unfazed as he chuckles dryly, planting his hips down.

 “I can wait, Princess.” 

You roll your eyes, huffing. “Please, Wade,” you glare at him, “Will you please lift your hips up so I can get your dick out?” 

You add a pout and a flutter of your lashes at the end, and his resolve noticeably crumbles. He huffs, lifting his hips up off the car seat just enough for you to pull down his pants slightly. You dip your hand into his underwear, giving his dick a soft tug before freeing it from the tight pants of his Deadpool suit. 

You gather some spit in your mouth, looking at your boyfriend through your lashes before spitting onto the tip of his cock, using your hand to spread it along his length, squeezing softly around the base. Wade groans from below you, his hips bucking into your hand.

“Fuck, hotstuff, ya’ killin’ me here.” 

Wade hisses as you squeeze a bit harder around his dick, the pretty ring he’d proposed to you with cold against his skin. 

He almost whines, stopping himself by biting his lip, “Oh, c’mon baby, what’d I do to deserve this teasin’, huh? I fought so valiantly against ol’ Wolvie, didn’t I, princess? Don’t I deserve to be treated nicely?” 

Something about the whiny-ness of his tone sends a pang to your heart, and pussy, and you grind down against his thigh absentmindedly before putting both your hands on his shoulders. 

“Help me out, would ya’, Wadey?” you ask sweetly, shimmying your hips slightly to gain his attention. 

His hands fly to your tights, tugging them down your thighs, lifting your legs softly, one by one, and peeling your pants off, leaving you hovering above him in your prettiest pair of panties. You’d been wearing them as a birthday surprise for him, but you’d both been snagged by the TVA before you could put them to good use… until now. 

Wade’s breath hitches from beneath you as his eyes land on your panties, his lower lip bitten between his teeth as his chest heaves. 

“Fuck, doll-face, what’re you all dressed up for?” he says, tracing a gloved hand over the lacy hem of your white panties, pressing a soft kiss to the little blue bow in the middle, before blowing a puff of cool air onto the damp spot beneath it. 

Your legs wobble softly and a shiver runs up your spine, leaving you grateful for your hands planted on your boyfriend's broad shoulders. 

You muster the breath to say, “They’re for you, baby… Well, they were for your birthday…”

He groans softly, pressing a soft kiss to your mound before pushing the thin fabric to the side, swiping a gloved finger through your slick. 

“Shit, baby.. Y’so wet f’me,” he says, voice breathless. “Fuck those stupid fucking day players, keeping my beautiful fiance, and her beautiful fucking panties from me on my birthday. What assholes, hey baby?” He says, pressing his thumb to your clit harshly as he blows another puff of air onto your slick pussy, causing your hips to buck into the air. 

You whine softly, bringing a hand to pump Wade’s cock once again, nodding mindlessly at his question that he knows you didn’t even hear. 

Wade chuckles, the sound rumbling from deep in his chest and shooting straight to your cunt, your thighs squeezing around his hand as he thumbs your clit lazily. 

You shuffle yourself forward on his lap, holding onto Wade’s strong shoulder with your hand, the other slowly pumping his cock as you lift yourself up, breathing hitching as you push yourself down onto the tip of Wade’s dick. 

His breath hitches beneath you, rubbing soothing circles on your hips through his gloves as you sink down onto him. His hands grip your hips tighter as he bottoms out, your eyes squeezed shut as you clamp down on his length. 

“Shit, baby, I could blow my load right now.” Wade gasps, head thrown back as his grip tightens on your hips, moving you up and down on his cock. You follow suit with his movements, digging your nails into the fabric of his suit as you leverage yourself on his shoulders, pushing yourself up and slamming yourself down on his cock, a moan slipping from your lips at every drag of his dick along your walls. 

Your hips stutter slightly, and Wade takes this as his cue, moving his hands from your hips to gain a strong grip on your ass, lifting you up and slamming his hips to meet yours. You whine softly, eyebrows knitting together and biting your lip as the soft squelch of your wetness reverberates around the car, your chest heaving with exertion, skin dewy with a thin sheen of sweat. 

You throw your head back, moaning wantonly, one hand coming off of Wade’s shoulder and pressing against the roof of the car. 

“...Shit…Wade!” you stammer as he moves one hand to your lower stomach, his thumb pressing harshly on your clit through his glove.

You slam your hips down to meet Wade's quicker, chasing your high as Wade slams his hips up to meet yours, his head thrown back against the head-rest behind him, eyes closed, as he groans softly.

"C'mon, doll-face," Wade grunts from beneath you, rubbing cruel circles on your clit as he bucks into you, "...y'gonna cum? Can feel you squeezing around me, princess."

You moan softly, babbling something like a 'uh-huh' as your eyebrows knit together, eyes shutting tight as you feel the coil building in your lower belly, threatening to snap any moment.

Wade feels you clamping around him, looking up and watching as you throw your head back, your grip on his shoulder tightening.

"That's it, baby," he groans from under you, pinching at your clit meanly causing you to whimper softly, your head coming forward, forehead resting against his as you grind down onto his cock.

"C'mon, hotstuff, give it to me..." he grunts, feeling his own orgasm coming as you clench down on him like a vice, a string of curse words sputtering from your lips as he feels you gush around him.

"...Shit, baby... Good girl," he coos, fucking you through your orgasm as he cums, soft grunts sounding in your ear as he bucks into you before stilling, stopping the movements of his thumb on your clit, as he lifts you up gently and pulls out. He pulls his hand away from your clit, but not before collecting a part of the mixture of yours and his cum on his gloved fingers, pushing it slowly back in to your drooling pussy. You whine, overstimulated, and he tuts, pushing your panties back into place and pulling your pants back up your legs, leaning back in the seat as you slump against his chest.

He smiles, giving your bum a soft pat and pressing a kiss to your hairline, leaning down to whisper in your ear, “I lied, doll-face, the Honda Odyssey fucks, hard.”

©trumanbluee - reblogs, comments, and likes are always appreciated! but i do not wish for my work to be republished, translated, or copied. thanks!

[leftoverpages]

Loyalty’s embrace

Pairing 𓅪 Benjicot "Davos" Blackwood x betrothed!reader

Tags 𓅪 jealous and protective Benjicot, small fight scene (no gore), fluff at the end, romance, reader uses she/her but no physical description

Notes: i have been writing for years without posting anything so i have a insane number of fics to post, enjoy lol

Wordcount 𓅪 1.3k

likes, comments, reblogs are much appreciated!

The grand ballroom of Blackwood Manor was awash with warm candlelight and the soft hum of conversation. The air was filled with the scent of roses and the clinking of crystal glasses. Lady Y/N stood at the edge of the room, a vision in her resplendent gown. Her dress, a masterpiece of crimson silk and midnight velvet, flowed around her like a river of fire and shadow. The bodice, embroidered with intricate patterns of gold thread, clung to her form, highlighting her grace and strength. Across her chest and shoulders, the Blackwood sigil was proudly displayed, a symbol of her new allegiance and her own fierce spirit.

The fabric shimmered in the candlelight, every movement sending ripples of light and shadow cascading over her. The skirt, full and layered, swirled around her feet like a tempest, the deep red contrasting beautifully with the inky black. A delicate gold chain rested at her throat, drawing attention to the elegant curve of her neck.

She stood there as her betrothed, Benjicot Blackwood, engaged in conversation with several lords and ladies. She found herself alone for the moment, sipping a glass of champagne and watching the festivities from afar.

Despite the grandeur, there was a nervous flutter in her stomach. Being betrothed to Benjicot, the fierce and enigmatic heir of House Blackwood, was both an honor and a daunting reality. Their engagement was more strategic than romantic, a union meant to strengthen alliances and secure power. Still, she had hoped to find some genuine connection with him, something to hold onto amidst the political machinations.

"Lady Y/N, you look ravishing tonight," a voice interrupted her thoughts. She turned to see Lord Cedric, a notorious flirt and known for his less-than-honorable intentions, standing far too close for comfort.

"Thank you, Lord Cedric," she replied, forcing a polite smile and taking a small step back.

He didn’t seem to notice—or care. "It's a shame you're tied down to Blackwood. A beauty like you deserves better," he said, his eyes raking all over her in a way that made her skin crawl.

"I am perfectly content with my betrothal, Lord Cedric," she replied firmly, trying to edge away. But Cedric persisted, moving closer, his hand reaching to touch her arm.

"Come now, Y/N, you can’t tell me you’ve never wondered what it would be like to be with someone else," he murmured, his breath hot against her ear.

Before she could respond, a strong hand gripped Cedric's wrist, pulling him away from her. "I believe the lady has made herself clear," Benjicot’s voice was low and dangerous, his dark eyes blazing with anger.

Cedric paled but tried to maintain his bravado. "I meant no harm, Blackwood. Just a bit of fun," he stammered, taking a step back.

Benjicot stepped between Cedric and Y/N, his posture tense and protective. "Your idea of fun is clearly misguided," he said coldly. "If I ever see you bothering her again, I will not be so forgiving."

Cedric sneered, his fear giving way to indignation. "And what will you do, Blackwood, uh? Throw me out of your pretty little ball?"

A dangerous glint appeared in Benjicot’s eyes. "No, Cedric. I’ll do much worse."

Before Cedric could react, Benjicot’s fist connected with his jaw, sending him staggering backward. The ballroom fell silent, guests suddenly turning to witness the confrontation. Cedric, recovering from the initial shock, lunged at Benjicot with a roar, swinging wildly.

Benjicot dodged, his movements controlled and precise. He landed another punch to Cedric's midsection, doubling him over. "You don’t know to quit, do you?" Benjicot muttered, grabbing Cedric by the collar and lifting him to his feet.

"Enough!" Cedric spat, struggling against Benjicot’s grip. "You think you can control everything? Even her?"

Benjicot’s eyes darkened further. "I don’t need to control her, Cedric. I trust her. Something you clearly don’t understand."

With that, Benjicot shoved Cedric away, causing him to stumble and fall to the ground. Cedric, breathing heavily and bruised, glared up at him. "This isn’t over, Blackwood."

"It is," Benjicot replied coldly. "And if you value your life, you’ll stay away from her."

Guards approached then, at Benjicot’s silent command, hauling Cedric to his feet and escorting him out of the ballroom. The guests slowly resumed their conversations, the tension dissipating, but whispers of the altercation lingered.

Benjicot turned to Y/N, his expression softening as he reached out to her. "Are you alright?" he asked, his voice gentle.

She nodded, but her composure faltered, and tears welled up in her eyes. "Thank you, Ben. I didn’t know what to do..."

He stepped closer, his hand tenderly cupping her cheek. "You never have to face such things alone. Not while I'm here."

Y/N looked up at him, searching his eyes for any hint of insincerity. Instead, she found a depth of concern and protectiveness that took her by surprise. She had always seen him as distant, a warrior hardened by duty, but now she glimpsed the man beneath the armor.

"Why do you care?" she asked softly, her voice trembling.

Benjicot sighed, running a hand through his dark hair. "I know our betrothal was arranged, but that doesn't mean I don't care for your well-being. I've come to admire your strength and grace, Y/N. I want us to be more than just a political alliance."

Her heart skipped a beat at his words. She had longed for some indication that he felt more than obligation towards her. "I want that too, Ben," she whispered.

He smiled then, a rare, genuine smile that made her heart flutter. "Then let's make it so," he said, taking her hand in his. "Together."

As they stood there, hand in hand amidst the glittering ballroom, Y/N felt a warmth spread through her.

Benjicot glanced around the room, the tension in his shoulders easing. He looked back at Y/N, his eyes filled with a tender resolve. "May I have this dance?" he asked, his voice soft and inviting.

Y/N felt her breath catch. She nodded, unable to speak, and he led her to the center of the ballroom. The musicians, sensing the moment, began to play a slow, melodic waltz.

As they took their positions, Benjicot's arm encircled her waist, his hand warm and steady. Her hand rested on his shoulder, and he guided her with a grace that belied his warrior's demeanor. They began to move, their steps perfectly in sync, the world around them fading into a blur of light and sound.

The music swirled around them, a symphony of emotions. They glided across the floor, each step a silent conversation. Y/N felt as if they were floating, the dance a magical respite from the political intrigue and uncertainty that had shadowed their engagement.

Benjicot's eyes never left hers, their dark depths reflecting a myriad of emotions. In that moment, she felt a warmth spread through her chest, a burgeoning hope that perhaps their union could be more than just a strategic alliance.

The music swelled, and Benjicot spun her gracefully, her dress flaring out like a crimson and black flower. When they came back together, he held her a little closer, his gaze softening even further.

"I meant what I said," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "I want us to be more than a political alliance. I want to know you, Y/N. To truly understand you."

She smiled, her heart fluttering with a mixture of nerves and excitement. "And I want to know you, Ben."

As the final notes of the waltz echoed through the ballroom, they came to a gentle stop. The guests around them erupted into applause, but Y/N and Benjicot remained in their own world, their gazes locked.

"Thank you for the dance," Y/N said softly.

Benjicot brought her hand to his lips, pressing a tender kiss to her knuckles. "The pleasure was mine," he replied.

In that moment, surrounded by the approving smiles of their peers, Y/N felt something shift. The alliance they had been forced into was beginning to transform into something real, something hopeful.

The future was uncertain, but for the first time, she felt truly seen and protected. And perhaps, just perhaps, they could find love in each other’s arms.

[2hightocare]

DOWN BAD! 03

Synopsis: Despite undeniable chemistry, your guys’ relationship remains undefined, caught between playful teasing to deeper, unspoken longing.

Pairings: bad boy! jungkook x fem! reader

Genres: college au. slowburn!

Warnings: drugs. mention of abuse, abusive household, fighting, screaming, crying, reader is down bad.. unprotected sex, reader is a virgin, making out, throwing up, fluff if you kinda squint, love confession, angst, banter between them both, cussing, Jungkook sucks at showing his feelings, complicated relationship, flashbacks.

a/n: hi.. sorry this took longer to put out but finals week is here— but here🥳 i recommend reading the first parts before this for it to make more sense k bye bye🤍

01 02 playlist board

The aching feeling in your chest didn’t disappear; it only increased the more you cried. Your palm clawed your chest, soothing over your clothes as if it would help lessen the pain. Your heart felt like it was getting repeatedly run over by a train. Each time you would gasp for air, another heartbreaking sob came flowing out of your mouth. It was crazy how down bad you are over this boy.

Seeing the person you love the most lose themselves to drugs was the most heart-wrenching pain you have ever experienced. The worst thing was you were losing yourself over him.

“I want a big house, with all that white picket fence shit,” you say, your hands playing with his hair as he melts into your touch.

“Not happening, baby,” he chuckles, his hand on your waist squeezing. “And I want a ring the size of my fist,” you ignore him, extending a hand out, imagining how a ring would look on your ring finger. “We’re not getting married or getting a house,” he rasps out, a hint of amusement displayed on his face matching yours.

“I think we should get a dog as well, don’t you think?” You continue, making him throw his head back with a laugh. “There would be no dog, and house, baby. Because I will be in jail after trying to rob a bank to pay for your big-ass ring,” Jungkook states, tilting his head to the side to drop a kiss on your cheek, the gesture sending your heartbeat skyrocketing in your chest.

“So you do want to get married!?” You jest happily, tugging on his hair playfully, making him let out a low groan before shaking his head, laughing. His laugh was one of your favorite sounds in the world.

The memory was like a punch into your gut, over and over again without stopping. Him leaving you on the floor of your room crying keeps replaying in your mind. The thought of him actually leaving never crossed your mind until now. He always comes back, you thought to yourself as you pick yourself up from the ground. Your knees weaken as another cry rakes through your body as you drop onto your bed face down.

As much as you wanted to run after him, you knew better not to. Your self-respect was hanging by a thread, and you were scared of what you would do if you see him at this very moment. The thought of you on your knees begging him to change burned in your mind.

You knew love shouldn’t be this hard, but that didn’t stop your mind from trying to convince you otherwise. Memories of him started circulating around your head, sending a strong shot of pain to spread through your body. You try your best to control your sobs, but it is almost useless as sixteen-year-old Jungkook appears in your mind.

“Hi,” you quip, skipping towards him.

“Hi,” he says, the edge of his mouth lifting into a smirk. “Finally, I see you again. You aren't in my homeroom.” You pout, noticing how his eyes go from your eyes to your lips to your body. “That's good, no? I wouldn't want to be a distraction.” He flirts almost nonchalantly, which sends a swarm of butterflies to flap around your stomach. You bite your lip before crossing your legs.

“Do you always flirt with every woman that comes up to you?” You tilt your head to the side, letting your hair fall beautifully over your shoulders, making Jungkook admire.

“Nah, only with cute girls I met on the first day of school in the front office after she got in a fight with someone for ripping holes in her tights,” Jungkook shrugs. You smile as you look him up and down. His hair is messy but not so messy that it looked like he got in a fight. His uniform fitted his body perfectly, making you jealous that girls got to look at him. His tie was tied neatly around his neck—but your mind was playing tricks with you as you imagined him using his tie in other ways that weren't exactly appropriate, but that's what reading Wattpad did to a girl.

“Is that so?” you chuckle as you watch him nod.

“What's your type?” he asks, catching you off guard. Your hands play with the hem of your skirt. “Dimples, brown eyes...” You tap your chin as you playfully look up as if you were thinking. “I like them tall as well. How tall are you?” you ask him, pointing at him, waiting for his reply. “Five ten,” he replies casually, amusement clear in his eyes.

“Yeah, I like them five ten.”

You felt as if you had a ball stuck in your throat. The more you tried to calm down, another batch of fresh tears pooled down your eyes. Your eyes were bloodshot, tears mixed with your mascara leaving streaks of black all over your cheeks. Before you knew it, you fell asleep with a broken heart.

Jungkook's hand shakes as he lights up the cigarette between his lips, his body craving the drugs. Instead of running to his dealer's house, he imagines your distraught face. He takes a large puff from the stick, letting it fill his lungs, but it's not enough. His tattooed hand tugs on his hair-body shaking, which he would like to think is from the cold, trying to ignore the fact he's going through withdrawals.

He didn't dare go home; he couldn't face his mom. He knew he would lose his mind if he saw another bruise decorating her skin. Another chill ran down his spine as he exhaled. His muscles ached, and sweat started to form on his forehead. The feeling of wanting to throw up was almost unbearable. Before he knew it, he was puking over a bush. He couldn't catch his breath before another roar of vomit came rushing out of him.

"It's fine," Jungkook repeated under his breath. Before he knew it, his feet moved towards the only person who could help him.

"You look like shit, buddy," Yoongi chuckles. "The regular?" He raised an eyebrow, and Jungkook nodded eagerly, his hands shaking as he watched Yoongi pull out a small bag of white circular pills-oxycodone.

"Here." Yoongi shoved the bag into Jungkook's hand, harshly taking the dollar bills from him and counting them.

"Thanks," Jungkook nodded, his feet moving to the door before stopping abruptly.

"That pretty girl that's always running behind you, that's your girl?" Yoongi says, licking a piece of paper with his tongue before rolling it up into a perfect small joint. Jungkook's body stiffened; he didn't like the fact that Yoongi knew who you were and that he mentioned you as pretty sent a chill down his body.

"Nah, she's just someone I know from school," Jungkook says, his voice stoical, showing zero emotion as he lies through his teeth. "Why?" Jungkook added a couple of seconds later. A small smirk appeared on Yoongi's face.

"She came looking for me," Yoongi starts, placing the rolled-up paper between his lips while his other hand uses a lighter to light it up. He blows a couple of times before he takes a hit, letting it fill his airways.

"She told me she'd give me a shit ton of money if I stop selling to you." Yoongi chuckles the words out, making Jungkook's throat close up and his lungs stop working.

"She also told me to go 'fuck myself," Yoongi mocks you in a high-pitched voice before bursting into laughter. "She's fucking bad, though. She had this tiny ass skirt-and her tits, man-" Yoongi whistles lowly.

Before Jungkook knew it, he was striding towards Yoongi, yanking the joint out of his mouth and throwing it somewhere around the room. Jungkook's hands gripped both sides of Yoongi's shirt, pulling him upwards from the couch.

"Don't. Fucking. Talk. About. Her," Jungkook seethes, his jaw clenched as Yoongi lets out a surprised gasp.

"Don't even fucking look at her." Jungkook shakes Yoongi. "The fuck is wrong with you?" Yoongi pushes Jungkook off. The smirk he always had plastered on his face is long gone, replaced by a shocked expression.

"Listen here, whatever the fuck I got to do with you has nothing to do with her. I don't give a single fuck if she came up to you. Next time you ever see her, don't even glance her way, don't even breathe near her. Because I promise you l will fucking kill you. I'm not scared of jail." Jungkook growls before pushing Yoongi back onto the couch.

Before he could reply, Jungkook strode for the door and slammed it shut.

Jungkook's heart rapidly beats in his chest. The adrenaline and anger fueling his body has him cursing under his breath. As much as Jungkook wanted to punch Yoongi straight in the jaw, he knew things wouldn't end well. So instead, he walked straight to the house where he knew was the last place he should go.

It was almost five in the morning when a small sound woke you from your sleep. Your head pounded, and your body and heart felt numb. You rubbed your eyes tiredly, blinking fast as you caught a shadow outside your window. Immediately, you shot up from your bed.

Your heart started again as you rushed to open the window. With a small gasp, you pulled the boy inside your room.

“You’re here! Are you okay?” You took hold of his face, checking him frantically. “Look at me.” You grabbed his face and made him look at you. His eyes bored into yours—the small glittering light in his eyes sparkled for a second before being replaced with empty eyes, almost angry.

“I’m not high,” he groaned, removing your hand from his face. You let them fall beside you with a small, weathery breath.

“That’s good.” You sniffed, but he stepped back when you reached for him, as if your touch was poison. He felt distant and gone, like he wasn’t really in front of you. “You met Yoongi,” he said, his tone cold, lacking the warmth he always used when talking to you.

“I did,” you nodded, your eyes welling up with tears threatening to spill at any moment. “He told me what you did.” His voice was almost nonchalant, which sent a shiver down your body. He was slipping through your fingers like water, no matter how hard you tried to hold on.

“You went to him?” you said, your hands forming into fists beside you as you pressed your nails into your palms, possibly leaving red marks.

“None of your business,” he replied. “I don’t know what sort of shit you tried to pull, but never fucking do it again,” Jungkook bluntly stated.

“You always say it’s not my fucking business, but it fucking is.” You gritted your teeth, anger bubbling in your stomach.

“How the fuck would that be any of your business? From what I recall, we are nothing.” He scoffed, his heart cracking in his chest as the words left his mouth, watching your face fall before recovering.

“Why the fuck are you here, then? It is my fucking business,” You said, tone deadly.

“It is my fucking business because I fucking care about you, Jungkook! You might not notice it, but I love you. I’m so tired of acting like I don’t when all I want is you. I just want you. You.” You cried almost erratically, Jungkook's mouth opening before closing.

“I love you,” you sobbed, tears streaming down your face just like the raindrops on your closed window. “I know you do too; if not, you wouldn’t be here.” A shaky breath left you as you wiped your eyes with a sniffle.

Jungkook’s heart suddenly felt lighter, but the pain in his body didn’t go away. When your words left your mouth, his heart stopped, and the thoughts he came to tell you about were long forgotten. He looked at your puffy, smudged mascara eyes and your pouty lips that begged to be kissed, making the thoughts in his head vanish into thin air.

“You don’t mean that,” Jungkook finally said, and you could almost hear the faint sound of your heart cracking at his words.

Before you could reply, Jungkook dropped onto his knees, shaking. It was pathetic how fast you dropped beside him, getting a hold of his body. “I’m going to die, fuck.” Jungkook shook in your arms, closing his eyes with a loud curse. “Fuck, fuck,” Jungkook growled. You frantically touched him; his body was burning up as he shook in your arms.

“What’s going on?” you cried, coaxing him. Small reassuring ‘you're going to be okay’ left your mouth repeatedly as you held him tight to your chest while he shook and whimpered in pain. “Fuck, need this to go away,” Jungkook shook as he reached for his pocket and pulled out a small bag of pills. His hands shook as he tried to open the bag, fumbling.

“Baby, help me. I need this to go away.” Jungkook cried, tears rushing down his face as he struggled to open the bag.

A heart-wrenching sob escaped past your mouth as you noticed the position you were in. It was like a scene in a film. Jungkook shook his head repeatedly as you took the bag out of his hands and placed it behind you, somewhere he couldn’t reach. “Help me,” Jungkook pleaded, his calloused hands tight on your waist as he shut his eyes in agonizing pain.

“I’m so sorry,” you cried, your fingers wiping his tears.

“Make it go away,” Jungkook cried, the most vulnerable you had ever seen him as he begged you to give him the drugs. It was like you were stuck in a love triangle with him and his last drug of choice.

Jungkook looked at you, his face desperate. “Make it go away,” he pleaded. And that’s exactly what you did, just not in the way Jungkook was thinking. Your lips smashed into his, making his eyes widen before fluttering closed, melting into you.

His tense shoulders immediately relaxed, dropping as the furrowed crease between his forehead softened.

As your lips molded with his perfectly, Jungkook felt his walls start to drop, brick by brick. Your hands held his face tightly, each kiss feeling like a battleground where you both fought with your mouths instead of words. The taste of bitterness mingled with the intoxicating sweetness of longing-a drug that left Jungkook craving more as you tore apart to catch your breath.

Heat surged through your veins, a fiery storm of conflicting emotions raging within. Each touch sent shivers down your spine, igniting a hunger you couldn't deny, even as anger simmered beneath the surface. Before you could say anything, Jungkook grabbed the back of your neck, pulling you closer.

Your body melted against his, a wave of warmth flooding your senses as his lips met yours again.

It was a moment you had dreamed of, yearned for with every fiber of your being, and now it was here, surpassing all of your wildest expectations. Time seemed to stand still, allowing you to savor every precious second of it.

"Use me," you moaned between the kisses as you gasped for air.

"Forget about everything and just focus on me." You gasped as his lips shut you up once again.

His hands caged your face as his lips molded against yours. Tongues danced together, exploring each other with an unspoken hunger, lost in the intoxicating rhythm of the kiss.

"Fuck, I should've kissed you sooner," Jungkook groaned, his hand sliding gently into your hair. He tugged it back, exposing your neck to his hungry gaze.

A shiver of anticipation raced down your spine as his lips found a new place to explore.

His head dipped to your neck, peppering kisses all over. A soft moan left your lips as he sucked on your sweet spot, leaving a red-purple mark on your collarbone. "So pretty," he said before capturing your lips with his again.

As your lips molded together, a surge of clarity washed over him, drowning out the incessant whispers of addiction that had haunted his mind for so long. With each kiss, the cravings faded into oblivion, replaced by a singular focus- you.

"We shouldn't be doing this," Jungkook groaned as your lips made contact with his neck. The sucking sensation of your lips had him throwing his head back with a heavy sigh. His hands tightened on your waist before pulling you up from the floor onto his lap. "I don't care," you breathed out, pulling him in closer to you. A loud groan ripped out of Jungkook as you sucked on the nape of his neck.

"Baby, I don't wanna take advantage of you," Jungkook said between kisses as you held his face to kiss him roughly. A sudden wave of heat rushed down to your center as Jungkook tried to pull back, only for his bulge to rub against you.

"Use me," you moaned, your arms pulling him into you.

His head rested over your chest, listening to your heartbeat. A shiver ran down his spine at your words.

"Baby, please," he pleaded, his eyes shut from the pleasure of your hips rubbing against him at a slow, almost agonizing pace. All he could think of was you.

"Look at me," you said, your hands holding his face to make him look at you. The once dull, empty eyes he came in with were now long gone, replaced with a sad, almost yearning look. His pupils were dilated as he looked at your face.

"I want you. I want all of you," you started. He nodded, his face the most vulnerable you had ever seen on him, which created a warm, fuzzy feeling in your stomach.

"And I want you to use me," you confessed, your voice trembling with honesty.

As your lips lingered against his, you breathed out the words, your voice a gentle plea, "Let me be the one you turn to when the cravings hit, the one who reminds you of all the reasons to stay, because every time you choose me over drugs, you're choosing yourself. You're choosing us."

Jungkook fumbled with his bottom lip, biting it as he felt his heart slowly start to mend itself. He was sure when he left your room earlier that day that you would never want to talk to him again. But here you were, not giving up on him, instead believing in him. Jungkook's lip trembled before a tear fell down his cheek.

"I love you," he whispers, his voice cracking. The words hang in the air, the complete opposite of how your heart is feeling. Before you can reply, he's pulling on your shirt and smashing his lips onto yours.

The kiss was desperate, filled with unspoken words and emotions. His hands roamed your back, pulling you closer as if he couldn't bear to have any distance between you. His hands clutch at you as if you're his lifeline, grounding him in this moment.

Your fingers tangle in his hair, pulling him closer, deepening the kiss. Jungkook's tears mix with your own as the intensity of the moment overwhelms you both.

Your lips part for a breath, and in the brief pause, you see the raw emotion in his eyes. It's a look of longing, of need, of a love that's been buried beneath layers of pain and addiction. Without another word, you capture his lips again, pouring all your love and hope into the kiss.

Jungkook's walls crumbled completely as he let himself be vulnerable, feeling your warmth and acceptance enveloping him. The kiss deepened, both of you losing yourselves in the moment, letting the world outside fade away.

Finally, you broke apart, both gasping for breath, foreheads resting against each other. Jungkook's eyes were no longer empty but filled with a mixture of love, determination, and a glimmer of hope. You cupped his face, your thumbs gently wiping away his tears.

"We'll get through this together," you whispered, your voice filled with unwavering conviction. "One step at a time."

Jungkook nodded, his eyes never leaving yours. "I promise I'll try," he said softly, his voice laced with sincerity.

You smiled, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead. "That's all I ask." Before capturing his lips with yours once again.

You moan into the kiss, and your hands move to his hair, pulling, messing, and tugging. His hands drop to your bare thighs beside him, caging him in. A small whimper makes past the kiss when he dips his finger onto the waistband of your black small shorts you wear underneath your school skirt.

The feeling was foreign, but it felt right. When his fingers dipped into your panties a loud moan was coming out of you. "Shh, baby, your parents will hear you.” Jungkook whispers. “Not here; gone for the weekend.” You pant as you feel his middle finger dip between your delicate folds, spreading your wetness over your clit.

You never had anyone touch you this way; the only thing that has ever come close to your center were your fingers, but as he enters one of his digits, it makes you realize your fingers were nothing compared to this. “Ah-fuck,” you moan, your head falling onto his shoulders.

“So fucking tight, holy shit.” Jungkook exclaims as he adds another finger to your soaking cunt. Your back arches as he pumps his two fingers in and out of your hole, and your hips roll on his lap, trying to relieve your clit. You let out a whine when he pulled them out, but it was quickly replaced with a loud, heavy sigh of relief when three fingers pressed hard on your clit, rubbing circles.

“That feels so good; don't stop.” You cry into his ear; your pussy pulsates on his fingers. The pleasure from his fingers on your pussy has you digging your nails into his arms. “Do you like being fingered?” Jungkook asks as he inserts three fingers, stretching you out. “Yes, fuck yes.” you moan heavily. Your walls clench around Jungkook's fingers anytime he curls them into your g-spot, sending waves of shock to unravel in your abdomen. The squelching sound of your pussy mixes with your loud moans, making Jungkook's dick harden underneath you.

“My bed,” you pant, your eyes shut close as he continues to rummage his fingers into you. Jungkook gives a hum and nod of acknowledgement before pulling his fingers out of you, picking you both up in a quick, swift motion before dropping you on the bed with a squeal.

Jungkook lets out a small, breathy laugh, and his fingers fumble on the button and zipper of his jeans. Your breath gets caught up in your throat when he drops his pants on the ground, revealing the outline of his cock in his boxers. Your eye of vision suddenly went up to his chest when he took his shirt off in a split second, giving you a sight of small scars and bruises on his ribs, sending a punch to your stomach.

Your heart squeezed in your chest when he suddenly realized what you were staring at. You quickly made your way to the end of your bed, pulling him closer. Your lips dropped to the side of his rib cage, leaving a little chaste kiss on one of his bruises. A shaky breath leaves Jungkook as he watches you kiss every single purple, reddish mark and scar on his body.

Jungkook puts a finger under your chin before tilting it up, and your teary eyes make contact with his. 

“Hi.” He whispers softly.

“Hi.” You whisper back, a small smile plastered on Jungkook's face, before his lips make contact with yours. His hands this time worked on pulling down your shorts, which ended up taking your light pink-drenched panties down as well. Heat flowed through your body even though it was freezing in your house. You both broke apart from the kiss when Jungkook pulled on your shirt, pulling it over your head. 

The white shirt gets added to your guy's discarded clothes on the floor, and your hands wrap around his neck before pulling him down with you onto the bed. “M’gon squish you to death.” Jungkook groans as he lifts his weight on you, “What a heavenly way to die.” You joke, cracking a small smile at Jungkook.

You couldn’t even think of anything else because, before you knew it, Jungkook was in between your legs, sucking on your folds. The feeling was unfamiliar, but it felt so good. Your legs squeezed both sides of his face, caging him. His tongue worked magic on you, flicking his tongue all over your pussy. Your hands tangled with his messy raven hair, pulling harshly whenever he would suck on your clit for a little too long.

Your chest heaves as you try so hard to catch your breath. Jungkook moves his head from side to side erratically, earning a pornographic sound from you. Your walls clenched on Jungkook's fingers as he pumped them rapidly. “I’m g-gonna cum,” you cry out, your back arching as he hums onto your center, sending vibrations all over your body.

Your mind is fogged up with invisible smoke, and your lungs burn as you hold onto your breath. Your teeth bite roughly on your bottom lip to contain the moans that are threatening to spill out of you. Before you could say another word, white dots blurred your vision. "Your body squirms into Jungkook's face, coming in a loud moan.

“Hurts, ah” You cry, and a low chuckle rumbles against you as he begins leaving between your legs, but not before dropping a kiss on your inner thigh. Your thighs are pressed together, and your legs are sore as your center aches for more. “Felt good?” Jungkook kisses your cheek, and you nod with a whiney hum as his hand wanders behind you, unclasping your white cotton bra and untangling it from your arms before throwing it somewhere on the floor. Jungkook didn't waste any time putting his mouth on one of your nipples. His warm tongue plays with your bud, sucking, toying, and licking. Your head rolls back as your hands behind his head push him into you more.

“You're so good at this; should I be worried?” You moan as he grinds his hard-clothed length into you. “Don't think about that, baby.” He replies that a sad tone in his voice makes your heart feel as if it were being stabbed. “Oh.” You let out a sigh, and Jungkook planted a kiss on your collarbone. 

“I'm a virgin,” you say, tilting your head to the side to catch a look at Jungkook's face. His brows furrowed slightly before he dropped another kiss on your neck. “I’m not.” Jungkook says, planting a chaste kiss on your cheek. “What a slut.” You joke, playfully rolling your eyes, earning a laugh out of him. “You're annoying.” Jungkook laughs, his head dropping down beside the crook of your neck.

“But you love me.” You pip, moving your body underneath him, making him chuckle.

 “But I love you.” Jungkook looks up, a small smile displayed on his lips. “If I were having sex with someone I care about and love,” He whispers, “This would be my first time as well.” Jungkook finishes, making your heartbeat skyrocket. You feel as if you were on the moon, flying around with the stars.

“Pinky promise.” You smile, you raise your pinky finger up in front of his face, and you watch how he tangles his pinky with yours before smashing his lips with yours. “Pinky promise.” He whispers back into your lips. 

Kissing Jungkook was everything and more than you had ever wished for; his soft, cracked lips molded against yours, fitting like perfect puzzle pieces. “Fuck me, please.” You whine, and your hips rise up, trying to rub yourself against him, which has him pushing your hips down into the mattress with his tattooed hand. “Be patient, baby,” he whispers into your ear.

“Please,” you cry. Your hand slides between you both, palming him over his boxers and making him groan. “Please, fuck me.” you beg this time. Your palm squeezes his cock, making him thrust into you. 

Jungkook didn't reply; instead, he pulled down the last remaining clothing item that was covering him. He opened your legs, a shaky breath left your lip, and your eyes took him. His hair disheveled in a brown mess, his lips puffy and red, and the most mischievous grin on his face had your stomach fluttering with fireworks and roller coasters.

“Nervous?” Jungkook raises an eyebrow as he settles between your legs; his length rubs against your cunt. “It's big,” you bite your lip, as you look between you both. Jungkook bites his lip as he moves closer, placing his cock on you, his tip reaching your belly button. “It’ll fit, if that's what you're wondering.” Jungkook lets out a small snicker, and his thumb runs against your bottom lip.

“It's going to hurt, right?” You ask, your voice low and filled with lust, has heat rushing to Jungkook's cock. "Yes, baby, you’ll probably bleed a bit. But I promise it'll feel so good.” He comforts you; kisses are peppered all over your face, easing your nervousness. “Does this mean we are basically doing blood oaths?” You joke, your heart fluttering  when he lets out a deep, throaty laugh.

Jungkook opens your legs, his eyes drop to your glistening pussy, and your juices spill onto your pink sheets. His hand wraps around his cock, tugging roughly before slapping it on your pussy, making you let out a choked moan. "Ah,” you moan.

“Fuck.” Jungkook curses, "Baby, I don't have a condom,” he remembers. 

“I'm on the pill.” You rush out and say, “I got on them for my periods.” You explain which Jungkook nods. “You sure? We don't have to right now, baby,” Jungkook says, only to be received with a disapproving head nod from you. “No, I want you right now.” You say, your hand wrapping around his cock, giving it a small pump. 

You moan when you place his cock in front of your entrance, and with a small, reassuring smile, Jungkook is pushing his cock into you. “Ah, oh, my god.” You moan, and pain shoots up through your body as he pushes his length into you inch by inch, giving you time to get accustomed. “I know I'm sorry, baby.” Jungkook coos, dropping kisses all over your face as you feel his cock go in deeper. 

“So full.” You moan when his cock is fully in. Your fingertips dig into his back, leaving crescent moons. “Hurts?” He asks, his thumb rubbing your clit trying to help ease the pain. “A little.” You reply before giving him the green light to move. 

Jungkook's movements started slow, pulling his cock out of you and leaving his tip in before pushing in again at the slowest pace. Jungkook's eyes squeezed shut at the intense pleasure his body was feeling. Making him forget everything outside of this moment. You clench around him whenever he hits your g-spot.

The pain turns into pleasure as jungkook plunges into you at a faster pace. Your headboard hits your wall over and over, matching his thrusts. “Taking me so fucking good, fuck.” Jungkook groans, your moans mixing with the sound of the squelching of your juices.

Your mind is hazy, your bodies are hot. As beads of sweat start to form on Jungkook's forehead, a moan flushes out of you when he pushes one of your legs backwards, picking up his pace.

Your eyes roll to the back of your head when he hits the spot in you repeatedly. Drool starts dripping down the sides of your mouth, and your hands find your sheets tugging hard, turning your knuckles white.

“So good.” You cry out; his thrusts are harder, knocking the air out of your lungs, making you gasp for air each time he slams into you. Jungkook's cock twitches in you as he presses slightly on your belly, making a bulge of his cock appear inside of you.

“I’m going to cum,” you moan. “Not yet, baby, not yet.” Jungkook groans, pulling out. He flips you onto your stomach, presses your legs together before slipping into your pussy again with a loud groan.

"Shit, so fucking tight.” Jungkook moans, His hands squeeze your ass as he fucks you from behind. Your moans and screams get muffled by how you bite into your pillow. The position had him being able to go deeper, and tears started streaming down your cheeks. 

“I’m going to cum.” You scream into your pillow, as he grunts with each thrust he fucks into you. “Come baby.” He groans, giving your waist a squeeze of reassurance. He didn’t have to tell you twice, your orgasm all over his cock. Your body shakes, and you clench hard around him. His eyes roll to the back of his head as he spills into you.

Your bodies heave heavily, as he fucks you both through your orgasm. Soft moans and whines leave your lips as he pulls out of you, and the white fluid drips out of your hole, making Jungkook groan in satisfaction.

“Are you okay, baby?” Jungkook asks, his tone sweet and gentle as he flips you over to your back, catching a glimpse of your red cheeks and teary eye expression. “I think I just had an out-of-body experience.” You chuckle. Jungkook's eyes look over your body, looking for any bruises, but are met with none, which makes him sigh in relief.

“Yeah?” Jungkook wiggles his eyebrows, dropping a kiss on your lips before getting up from your bed and making his way to your vanity. He opens a couple of your drawers before picking up the package of wet wipes and making his way back to you.

“We need to change your sheets, baby.” Jungkook comments as he takes notice of the blood stain on them. He pulls one of the wipes out of the package, wiping you clean in a delicate manner. When he finished cleaning you up, he followed along with cleaning himself before disposing the wipes in your trash can beside your bed. 

He also quickly changes your sheets before jumping into bed with you. His head lies on your chest. Hearing your steady heartbeat, your fingers work on his back muscles as he relaxes further into you. The sound of rain outside pebbles against your window.

As you both lay intertwined, your breaths slowly returning to normal, Jungkook felt an overwhelming sense of peace wash over him. The familiar gnawing urge for drugs was conspicuously absent, replaced entirely by thoughts of you. Your touch, your warmth, and your love.

And for the second time in his life, the voices finally stopped as he fell asleep to the sound of your breathing.

[fandoms-x-reader]

Overprotective and Ready to Fight - OM! Brothers

Requested By: @opiopal

Word Count: 2,972

Oneshot

Summary: Fighting a demon who spoke poorly about your love interest and winning.

You weren’t normally an angry person. You tried to be very calm and  kind. You were the one who talked others off the ledge, not the one who needed to be talked down. In all of your time in the Devildom, you were sure none of the brothers had a chance to see you get really angry.

But finals were coming up at RAD and you were under a tremendous amount of stress. You had been pouring every ounce of your energy into studying. You had been staying up late and skipping meals which you admitted had started to make you a bit cranky.

Today you had just found out that your teacher was adding an additional part to the final. A part that you hadn’t been studying for at all because you were under the pretense that you wouldn’t need to.

So, now your stress levels were incredibly high and on top of that you had dropped your lunch in the cafeteria so you were hangry. You were on the verge of having a complete mental breakdown and for some reason a popular demon had decided it would be fun to mess with you today.

They came up to you and began saying rude and nasty things about the demon brothers, particularly one of them. Normally, you would stomach the rude comments and move on, making sure to give the demon brothers extra love that night to make up for the terrible things that were said about them.

But as previously stated, you were having a bad day, and the demon just crossed a line. Wrath overtook you with every word they spoke until you completely snapped. You threw one good punch to the demon's jaw and a collective gasp broke out from the students that surrounded you.

Before you knew it, the demon began fighting back, using every advantage they had over you. But, you were so angry you didn’t care. How dare they talk about your demon like that? Who did they think they were? 

You fought with everything you had until you felt someone pulling you off the student. You turned to face them and your heart skipped a beat when you saw that it was Diavolo. He didn’t necessarily look angry, but he didn’t look very pleased either.

You turned your attention to the demon you had been fighting only to see they were also being restrained by Barbatos. Barbatos led them away and you turned to look at Diavolo. You knew you probably shouldn’t have snapped and started a fight, but if he heard what that demon was saying, he would understand!

You gave him a small smile before asking, “We don’t have to tell Lucifer about this, right?” Diavolo let out a small sigh. He wished that was true, for your sake. But, unfortunately, if Diavolo didn’t tell him and Lucifer managed to find out on his own, that would be a much worse situation.

So, here you were sitting in the infirmary at RAD. Your small wounds were being treated and you could hear muffled voices on the other side of the door. It was undoubtedly Diavolo telling your seven roommates what had happened. 

You winced when you heard the door to the infirmary open and you held your breath as you waited to see which one was coming in to talk to you.

You did what?!

Lucifer was absolutely livid. Not only did you put yourself in danger, but you had embarrassed Diavolo. What could have possibly driven you to such insanity?

He needed to know because the whole situation was absolutely preposterous to him. 

He entered the infirmary first, surprised to see how good you looked comparatively. He had passed the other demon as they were taken to a separate room and they looked a lot worse than you did.

He silently admitted he was surprised by your capabilities, especially considering the difference in strength and the fact that you had no magic or weapon.

But, this was no time to compliment you. 

You knew better than to speak when Lucifer was wearing his angry face so you remained silent as he approached the bed you were sitting on.

“What were you thinking?” Lucifer asked, his gaze falling to your hands where he noticed how bloody your knuckles looked.

“In my defense, this is technically all because of you,” you stated. Lucifer now looked shocked and furious. Were you really trying to place the blame on him? He hadn’t even been there!

Before he could respond angrily, you continued to say, “They were talking bad about you.”

That caught Lucifer off-guard. Were you telling him that the reason you fought the demon was because they were talking poorly about him? Did you realize he was the most powerful demon of his brothers and perfectly capable of fighting if need be?

Still, Lucifer couldn’t help the pride that began to swell in his heart. You fought on his behalf and won. He found it adorable that you went to such lengths to defend him. But, he couldn’t very well thank you in front of everyone.

So, he went with a neutral response. One that he hoped conveyed his true feelings behind the whole situation without betraying his image of power.

“No more fighting.”

Did Diavolo just say you picked a fight with a demon?

Mammon was beyond surprised at the news. You were just a fragile little human. What were you doing trying to fight demons?

The other demon passed by the group and Mammon’s heart dropped. They looked horribly beat up and if that’s what they looked like, he could only imagine what you looked like.

He couldn’t wait any longer. He needed to make sure you were okay. So, he quickly swung the door to the infirmary open, pausing when he saw you. 

You looked mostly fine. A couple of cuts and bruises and some bloody knuckles, but that was it. You practically destroyed the demon and came out looking like you took a small fall. Mammon made a mental note to never make you angry.

The doctor demon moved to wrap your hand and was a bit rough with it. You winced slightly and Mammon stepped in.

“You’re doing it wrong,” Mammon stated as he shooed the doctor away, taking over. He gently grabbed your hand and your eyes met his. “I know ya’ got guts, but isn’t this a little much?” Mammon asked, carefully wrapping your hand.

“They were saying some terrible things about you,” you replied, keeping your eyes on your injured hand. Mammon faltered for a moment at your words. No one had ever cared about him enough to fight for him. “Ya’ fought them because they were talkin’ trash about me?” Mammon asked.

“Well, wouldn’t you fight someone if they weren’t talking bad about me?” you questioned. Fair point. “Yeah, but I’m a demon,” he countered. 

Mammon finished wrapping your hand and told you, “Lucifer’s gonna give ya’ a long lecture for this.” Great. Just what you needed.

“But afterwards, do ya’ wanna come over and watch a movie?” Mammon questioned. He wanted to help make you feel better, especially after finding out you were fighting for him. You were his precious human and he wanted to make you feel that way.

Your eyes lit up at the idea and you immediately agreed. This is why you fought that demon - to stand up for the one that always made you feel better.

Levi didn’t typically go to RAD in person. He preferred to take all of his classes from the comfort of his room. But, he had made a special exception today and he was very glad he did.

He heard that something went down between you and another student, but it wasn’t until he was standing in the hallway with his brothers that he found out you had gotten in a fight.

As if on cue, the other demon walked past him and he took note of all of the damage. You did that much to a demon?!

Part of him wanted to make sure you were okay; but, also, Levi had to know how you pulled off such an amazing attack.

He entered the infirmary, a mix of excitement and fear built up inside of him. But, when he saw that you were mostly fine give or take a few bruises and cuts, nothing was left but his excitement.

Out of politeness, Levi still asked, “Are you okay?” But after you reassured him, he moved onto his more pertinent questions. 

“How did you manage to beat that demon up so badly?” he asked. You shrugged your shoulders before replying, “I was just so mad that I couldn’t stop punching.”

“What did they do to make you so mad?” Levi asked. He genuinely wanted to know what happened to turn you into a badass rage monster.

You gave Levi a small smile before telling him, “They decided to say awful things about you, spreading rumors left and right. I couldn’t stand it.”

Levi let out a startled noise before blushing furiously. You fought someone to defend him? Your coolness level just went up by a million points for him. 

Did that mean you liked him enough to think he was worth protecting?!

Levi will pull the security footage of the fight and make it an online sensation. No one would ever pick a fight with you again thanks to him.  

Satan knew something bad happened involving you the moment you started fighting. He could feel his sin radiating around him. It took him a moment to figure out it was coming from his pact symbol, but as soon as he did, he was on a mission to find you.

You were seriously angry right now. He could feel it. And he was a bit worried about what it would lead to. 

But he was too far to reach you before the fight ended and was left standing in the hall with his brothers while Diavolo explained what happened. 

Even though he felt your rage, he was still surprised when he found out you got in a fight; and, even more so when he saw the damage you did.

When Satan entered the infirmary and saw you he couldn’t help but smirk a bit. The demon didn’t stand a chance against you. 

You didn’t notice him at first, focused on your knuckles that the doctor was tending to. So, Satan walked up to the bed. He noticed that your eyebrows were still furrowed from residual anger and to Satan it made you look feisty like a kitten. And where others would have been deterred by it, the look drew Satan in.

“You’ve got a lot of anger in you,” Satan teased. “You’re one to talk,” you retorted and Satan let out a small chuckle. 

“What made you so mad?” he questioned. You let out a small sigh before replying, “They decided to say some rude things about you.”

Satan’s eyes widened slightly. That’s all it was? Some demon said some rude things about him and it sent you into that much of a rage? Were you that protective of him?

Satan couldn’t help but smile at you. You protected him in your own way and he would make sure to protect you from whatever punishment Lucifer decided to come up with.

But, he made you promise not to start another fight with a demon. Next time, you might not be so lucky and he didn’t want you putting yourself in danger.

You got in a fight? Were you hurt?

Asmo was freaking out right now. What if you bruised your delicate skin? Or worse, cut it?! 

His panicking was only worsened when he saw the demon walk by. He nearly fainted at the thought of you looking even half as bad.

He quickly rushed into the infirmary and relaxed a tiny bit when he realized your condition wasn’t even close to being as bad as the other demon’s.

But, your knuckles were bloody and you did have some bruises and cuts so he still wasn’t very happy.

“Y/N! Your poor knuckles! And skin! Why did you fight that demon?” Asmo asked frantically, his eyes filled with worry as he scanned over all of your features, surveying the damage.

“I was just trying to stand up for you,” you replied. “Me?!” Asmo asked, even more confused now. 

“They were saying some really rude things about you,” you replied honestly. Asmo’s heart swelled at your reasoning. You risked your own body to defend him.

“You’re soo cute,” Asmo stated pulling you into a hug and placing a few kisses on your cheek. He then moved and began placing kisses on each bruise and cut you received, spending extra time on your knuckles.

“As soon as we get a chance, I’m treating you to a spa day. We’ll get the best of everything and get you back to your perfect state in no time. There won’t be a blemish on you,” Amso told you, hugging you once more.

He’ll use his connections to spread terrible rumors about the demon who said those things about Asmo to ensure that they never start another fight with you.

He couldn’t handle the stress of seeing you bloody or bruised again.

Beel was the one who got in fights the most when it came to protecting his family. He was no stranger to it and was unphased by it. But what he didn’t expect was for Diavolo to tell him you got involved in a fight.

You must have had a good reason. You were normally so slow to anger. So whatever the demon said or did must have set you off.

He had seen the demon walk by the group and he couldn’t help but let out a small gasp. When Diavolo said you had gotten into a fight, he didn’t expect that it was to this extent. The demon could hardly walk on their own!

Beel entered the infirmary and walked straight up to the bed, grateful that you only had a few minor cuts and bruises. 

He carefully took your hand in his when he reached the bed and inspected the damage on your knuckles. He frowned a little before asking, “Does it hurt?”

“A little,” you replied. Beel nodded his head before questioning, “What did they do to make you so mad at them?”

“I didn’t like the things they were saying,” you replied. “Was it about food? I hate it when people talk negatively about food,” Beel stated.

You let out a small laugh before replying, “No, it wasn’t about food. It was about you, Beel.” 

Beel’s eyebrows furrowed a bit as he turned his head to the side, trying to understand. What could that demon have said about him that was so bad it made you start a fight?

“I just didn’t like hearing them say bad things about you when you’re so kind,” you added.

Beel immediately engulfed you in a hug. The demon had merely spoken a few unkind words about Beel and it managed to send you into a rage all to protect him.

But you were only a human and fighting demons was dangerous. “Next time, you tell me and I’ll fight them for the both of us,” Beel told you.

You nodded your head and Beel pulled out of the hug to ask, “Do you want to go eat? I bet you worked up an appetite.”

You appreciated the way Beel always made sure you were fed and taken care of.

Wait, were they talking about the same Y/N?

Part of Belphie wanted to bust out laughing at Lucifer and Diavolo’s faces. Surely they never thought you would be capable of starting a fight with a demon when this exchange program started.

However, when the other demon walked by, Belphie became concerned. They looked like they had just fought a war. Belphie’s main focus was now on making sure you were okay.

He quickly entered the room and let out a small breath of relief when he saw that you were okay. But, relief soon turned into confusion as he approached the bed. How did you come out with hardly anything more than some bloody knuckles?

“And I thought Satan was the hothead,” Belphie teased, giving you a small smile. You frowned at him in response before replying, “I had a bad day.”

Belphie let out a small snort at your words. “I don’t think having a bad day is a good enough reason to beat someone to a pulp,” Belphie replied.

You stayed silent, not wanting to give him your reason. “Come on, what’d they do?” Belphie asked curiously. 

“They talked bad about you,” you replied, avoiding his gaze. Belphie was surprised, to say the least. You did all this because that demon decided to smack talk? And about him nonetheless.

“My hero,” Belphie joked, and you rolled your eyes. In reality, Belphie was flattered that you cared enough about him to defend him. And he was glad that you didn’t get injured in the fight.

“Well, once Lucifer is done with the ten-hour lecture, I guess I have no choice but to take care of you. Since you fought for me and all,” Belphie stated and you only further pouted at him. His sarcastic nature was getting on your last nerve right now.

Belphie could see his quips weren’t amusing you, so he put his hands up in mock defeat before pulling you into a hug.

“Thank you,” he finally said as you rested your head against his chest. “You’re welcome,” you replied and Belphie couldn’t help but smile.

As soon as Lucifer was done with his scolding, he would make sure to give you lots of cuddles.

[peachsukii]

There’s something so intimate about getting wounded on the battlefield when defending someone you love, especially when you haven’t started dating yet.

I imagine early 20s Bakugo going to assist pro hero reader, not doubting your strength, but because he needs to know you’re okay after the communicator went radio silent. He arrives on scene, watching you go toe to toe with the most wanted villain in the area. It’s only for a moment before he rushes in, but he’s entranced with the way your body moves as your ducking and weaving attacks - the moves he taught you.

The fight goes on for a few more blows before the villain lands a successful shot on you both - nothing fatal, but enough to hurt like a bitch. Bakugo’s grumbling to get himself out from underneath the rubble that’s fallen atop him after slamming into a nearby building. He looks up and catches the moment you’re knocking the villain flat on his ass with one hell of a punch. Huffing, you run to his side and start shoving debris off of him, blood and sweat dripping from your forehead as he watches you in silence.

“Here,” you hook your arms under Bakugo’s, holding onto his back in an embrace. “Hold on to me, I’ll pull you out.”

And he does without hesitation - any excuse to be close with you. When he’s fully freed, you pull back to do a once over to see if he’s hurt, starting the standard hero evaluation. He stops you, insisting he’s fine before cradling your face with his dirtied glove.

“Are you okay? Scared the shit outta me when your comm went dark.” He wipes away some dried blood from your chin. “I rushed over thinkin’ you were in trouble.”

You can’t help but laugh, flattered that he’d ditch his current position to come help you. “I must’ve smashed it during the fight. I didn’t even notice until now.”

“Dumbass, be more careful!” Bakugo scolds, shaking his head dramatically. “I need ya in one piece for our dinner date tomorrow.”

A smile crosses your face, tilting your head into his hand. “I’m alright, Kats, no worries. Besides, I would expect you to deliver it to me in the hospital if that were the case. No way am I letting a broken bone stop me from eating your cooking!”

Bakugo wouldn’t admit how much that made his stomach cartwheel and heart flutter in his chest, so he chooses to cover it with a grin instead.

“Good. Now let’s turn this fucker in and head back.”

[javierpena-inatacvest]

Cramps

Summary: After going off of birth control, your periods have been a little more intense than you're used to. What starts out as a stressful morning between you and your husband, very quickly turns into a night that bodes very well for the both of you.

Paring: Husband Frankie Morales x Wife f!reader (no use of y/n)

Word Count: 5.4K on the dot (idk how we got here)

Warnings: SMUT (18+) PERIOD SEX, unprotected p in v sex (do better, but also they want a baby so), vaginal fingering, oral (f receiving, again, you're on your period but our pussy eating king Fransisco Morales is an unstoppable force of nature), creampie, praise kink, big fat nasty breeding kink (it's who I am now, I won't apologize for it), Frankie's got a NASTY mouth, Frankie is the best husband, reader is on her period/has period symptoms, talks about family planning/not being on birth control, use of nicknames (hermosa, quierda, cariño), reader has no physical descriptions besides that she can wear Frankie's clothes

A/N: Well... This was gonna be a drabble... and then it was just gonna be fluff.... and then it was gonna be just some implied smut... and now, we're here??? Idk, don't ask me 🥴 self indulgent bc I just finished my period (and my periods have been whack since stopping bc) and what better way to heal myself than imagining what Frankie would be like taking care of you 🥺 also pls be nice to me this is my first time writing Frankie and I'm v nervous EEK I hope you enjoy!!! sorry Javi bby, I still love u

Bitchy. 

You wished you had a better word to describe your mood for today, but truth be told, bitchy was by far the most accurate. 

You and Frankie were hoping to start trying for your first baby soon, and had recently gone off your birth control after your doctor had told you it may take a few months for your body to regulate itself before you had a better chance at getting pregnant. Your doctor had also  warned you about many of the symptoms and side effects that stopping the pill could have, one of those being becoming more aware of your emotions and mood swings throughout your cycle. That, you were prepared for. 

What you were not prepared for, was to feel like an absolute psychopath in the days leading up to your period. 

 Your cycle had  been wonky the past few months as your body began to sort itself out- you had a feeling your period was probably about to start soon, but hadn’t thought much about it, considering your terrible and grouchy mood had overshadowed it. You had tried your best to pull yourself together the past few days, chalking up your grumpiness to long hours at work, or just being in a weird funk, but today, you woke up with a fire in your gut, ready to fight, and poor Frankie was about to be your punching bag. 

Sweet Frankie had been nothing short of a saint when it came to just about anything, but dealing with your newly heightened emotions right before your period really should have earned him some sort of Presidential Medal of Bravery, considering that your newly discovered highs and lows while PMS-ing were just as frightening as any time he had spent during his time in the military. 

Unfortunately for your husband, despite his best efforts, he had been on your nerves all morning. Not because he was really doing anything wrong, but because the little things that you were normally so good about letting go, or the patience you frequently had seemed to have flown out the window, and you were convinced that if Frankie even breathed the wrong way, you were going to absolutely lose it. 

So when unsuspecting Frankie decided to ask you a simple request about after work plans, there was very little he could have done to prepare for your response. 

“Morning, Hermosa.” Frankie cooed, emerging into the kitchen, his hand rustling through his untamed, sleepy brown curls as he let out a yawn and a stretch, the slight softness of his stomach peeking out between his t-shirt and pajama pants as he raised his arms above his head before settling behind you. He wrapped himself around your waist, pressing a gentle kiss into your shoulder as you finished putting the last of your lunch in your bag for work, trying to force yourself to focus on his sweet good morning, rather than the empty bowl of cereal in the sink that had greeted you first thing when you woke up, already starting you off on the wrong foot in your already irritable mood. 

“Morning, babe.” You grinned, forcing yourself to forgo the annoyance hidden behind your smile as you pecked a quick kiss on Frankie’s lips before gathering the rest of your things for the day scattered across the kitchen table. “Sorry, I didn’t have time to make you breakfast this morning because I was running late, but there’s extra scrambled eggs on the stove if you want them. I’m really sorry, Frankie, I gotta head out, have a good day, I’ll see you later okay?” You sighed, slinging your work bag over your shoulder, your hands full of your coffee mug, water bottle and keys, your cluttered grip and running behind schedule only adding to your frustration. 

“All good, Querida, no worries. Hey, actually baby, before you leave,” He paused, setting down the coffee mug he was just about ready to take a sip of, as if a little lightbulb had just gone off in his brain, “do you mind picking up stuff to make that really good buffalo chicken dip for Benny’s tonight? I told ‘em we’d bring like, an appetizer or something, if that’s okay.” 

For Frankie’s sake, you couldn’t have been more thankful that you had your back turned to him, because if looks could kill, Frankie Morales would have been a dead man. 

Every rational part of your brain knew that even though his request perhaps wasn’t the best timing, stopping by the store and making dip to bring to Benny’s for game night really wasn’t that much time or effort out of your day. But today, it seemed like every part of your brain but the rational one seemed to be functioning properly, and the raging, irrational part might as well have heard that Frankie wanted you to prepare and cook a Thanksgiving meal for 74 after you got home from work. 

You took a deep breath, your grip tightening around the items in your hand, praying with every bone in your body that someway or another, you had misheard your husband. 

“Tonight? As in, like, today, after I get home from work?” You questioned, trying to do your best to keep your tone from sounding too condescending. 

“Yeah, we don’t have to be there until 7, I just don’t think I’m gonna have time to since I probably won’t be outta work until 6:30.” He shrugged nonchalantly, taking another swig of his coffee 

Oh yeah, you’d heard him right.  

You let out a deep sigh, even more over dramatic than you had intended it to be, arms crossed over your chest and stark frown spread across your face as you turned towards Frankie. 

“Oh, perfect! That’s a great thing for me to find out about at 7:45 A.M. the day of, Frank!” Your voice oozed with ferocious sarcasm, now slamming your things back down onto the table to run your hands over your face. “No, that’s great, because there’s nothing I wanted to do more than to come home and make buffalo chicken dip instead of all the other shit I needed to do today before we left! Amazing! Thank you!” 

At this point, you were almost positive that if your eyes rolled any further, they’d be in the back of your skull, letting out another angry huff as you shook your head at Frankie, who was looking absolutely petrified as he leaned back against the counter, eyes darting to the floor to avoid yours, running his hand over the wispy curls at the nape of his neck. Frankie began to stammer, trying to defend himself from your wrath. 

“Hermosa, I’m- I’m sorry? I know it’s last minute, but you normally make it every time we go over there, I just- I figured it’d be easy for you to do? You can get something else, or I can try to stop by the store really quick on the way home, I just might-” 

“Nope, you want buffalo chicken dip, apparently I’m making buffalo chicken dip!” You groaned, collecting everything back into your hands, swearing under your breath as you tried to balance everything in your grip. “Jesus, okay, I need to go to work, just- I don’t even know. I gotta go, Frankie.” 

“Querida, I-” Frankie pleaded, beginning to trail behind you as you made your way to the front door. 

“Frankie, whatever, it’s fine! I’ll make the stupid dip! I have to go to work, I’ll see you later.” You could feel the muscles in your jaw beginning to clench as you gritted your teeth, trying with everything in you to keep from exploding as you headed out of the house. Without even a kiss goodbye, you left Frankie in the doorway, watching you throw your things in the car and slam the door behind you as you drove down the driveway. 

But as soon as you were on the road and your house was out of view, you could instantly feel the tears beginning to well in your eyes, slowly streaming down your cheeks as you began to sob, wondering why you had ruined the morning over as stupid as an appetizer, and even worse, that you had been a complete asshole to your husband about it. 

You couldn’t have been more thankful that work had been quiet today- no meetings on the schedule, and no one coming to bother you, leaving you plenty of peace and quiet to continue sulking and brooding in your unpleasant mood. 

Right around lunch time, you found yourself eating alone in your office, wishing your lunch was about ten times saltier and chocolatier than it was, crying to yourself as you watched a video of a dog meeting its new human sibling for the first time.

Just as you were beginning to pack up the rest of your lunch and start back up with your work, you felt a terrible twinge in your lower stomach that had you just about keeled over in pain, followed by that all too familiar feeling in your underwear. 

Frantically scrambling, you reached into your bag to pull out a tampon, hurriedly shuffling to the nearest bathroom, only to reveal the murder scene equivalent as you pulled down your pants. 

Your period had come.  

In that moment, as much as you were dreading the pain and misery that was the next few days to come, you couldn’t also help but feel a slight sense of relief, realizing that you were in fact, not actually a crazy person for the way you were feeling, you were just PMS-ing out of your mind. You couldn’t also help but feel absolutely awful for your unjustified freak out at your husband this morning, your heart sinking with guilt as you made your way back to your desk, immediately grabbing your phone to text Frankie. 

“Hey… I’m so sorry about this morning. What you were asking me to do wasn’t a big deal at all and I totally freaked out on you. My period just started, I think that’s why I’ve been such a bitch this morning. I’m sorry, Frankie, I love you.💕 ” 

It was almost instantly after you hit send that the reply bubble popped up in your message, your heart pounding anxiously waiting for your husband’s reply. 

“It’s okay, I kind of had a feeling 😉 babe, you weren’t being a bitch- I should have talked to you about it sooner. Shitty timing on my part. I’m sorry. I love you too, Querida.” 

Before you could even respond, another message popped up below his first. 

“Don’t worry about going to the store or making anything tonight. I already texted Benny and told him we couldn’t come. We can spend the night in, just the two of us. I can pick up takeout on the way home if you want and we can pick a movie to watch.” 

You could feel your frustrated facade beginning to melt away as your lips shifted from a pursed frown to a small smirk reading Frankie’s text, your thumbs quickly tapping across the screen of your phone to reply. 

“Thank you. You’re the best.” 

“Of course. Hopefully none of your co-workers ask you to make buffalo chicken dip before you leave 😘” 

“Oh shut up, meanie.” 

“Just kidding. Have a good rest of your day, love you. 💙

“Love you too. 🤍” 

Although the rest of your day was nowhere near enjoyable, given the fact you felt like you were getting punched repeatedly in the uterus and your personality resembled that of Oscar the Grouch, you knew that your night in with Frankie was your light at the end of the tunnel, and only needed to make it a few more hours before there was at least some sweet relief finally headed your way. 

Despite the constant stabbing pain in your lower stomach and back, your drive home from work had you in much better spirits than your drive there, now not only having an explanation as to why you had felt like such a mess, but also knowing the rest of your night was going to be dedicated to nothing but cuddling up in your comfiest clothes and snuggling up next to Frankie on the couch. 

As you pulled down your street, you were surprised to see Frankie’s truck already parked in the driveway, wondering what he was doing at home almost an hour earlier than he had mentioned he would be this morning. Gathering all of your things out of the back of your car, you quietly entered your home, confusion scrunching in your brow as you called out for your husband. 

“Frankie? Babe, are you home?” 

Before you could even kick off your shoes or hang up your coat, Frankie had already appeared at the front door to greet you, boyish grin spread across his face as he grabbed your things out of your hand, carefully placing them on your entryway table before engulfing you in a bear hug, his broad arms wrapping around your body and pulling you closer into his chest. 

You could feel all the muscles in your body instantly relax as your face rested against the soft cotton of his t-shirt, soaking in the familiar woody and savory scent of him, letting yourself be consumed by every ounce of his embrace. 

“Hi Hermosa.” Frankie cooed, pressing a soft kiss against your temple, running his hands up and down your back as you looked up at his sweet brown eyes shining down at you. 

“What are you doing home so early? I mean, not that I’m mad about it at all, I just thought you said that you had to work until 6:30 and-” 

“Told my boss I had to head out early for a family emergency.” Frankie smirked, laughing at you playfully rolling your eyes from his so-called excuse. 

“Last time I checked, your wife being a grump because she’s bleeding out of her cooch doesn’t classify as a family emergency, Fransisco.” You teased, giving him a little shove, making the two of you giggle in tandem. 

“Eh, close enough. I’m really sorry about this morning, querida. I was a dick for not talking to you about plans beforehand and just assuming you could go do it. It wasn’t fair of me.” 

“It’s okay, Frankie. What you were asking for wasn’t a big deal and I made it one because I’ve been a psycho all day. I’m sorry, too.” 

“Well,” Frankie paused, pressing another kiss onto your cheek, the width of his palm gently cradling your jaw as you stared up at him and his sympathetic smile, “number one, you are not a psycho. I can’t imagine how uncomfortable you must feel right now, so even if you were, I wouldn’t blame you one bit. Number two,” he paused again, shifting his kiss from your cheek to your lips, his thumb delicately swiping across your skin, “you’re my wife and I love you more than anything, and if I can take a little time off to help make you feel better, it’s the least I can do. So, why don’t you go change into something comfortable, and when you get back down here, I will have pizza and ice cream, whatever movie you wanna watch, and a back rub ready for you, okay?”   

“Okay. Thank you, Frankie. God, you’re the best.” You grinned, pressing up on your tiptoes to let your mouth meet Frankie’s, the plush pout of his bottom lip swiping across yours, lingering just long enough to let the butterflies in your stomach begin to swirl, heat creeping through your cheeks in the tenderness of the moment.

“Of course, cariño. Te amo. Now go get changed.” With one last peck on his lips, you wiggled out of Frankie’s grasp to make your way up the stairs, grinning to see that your husband had already set out your favorite of his oversized sweatshirts and sweatpants, neatly folded on the bed for you to grab, quickly shuffling out of your uncomfortable work attire and exchanging it for Frankie’s clothes, your smile growing even wider at the feeling of perpetually being wrapped up in the essence of him. 

As you made your way back downstairs to meet Frankie, you found your heart skipping a beat again to see that the better part of the living room had been turned into a cozy sanctuary- lights dim and candles lit, both parts of your couch squished together, filled with every pillow and blanket you owned, and Frankie sitting in the middle, giant box of pizza, tub of ice cream and your handsome husband waiting for you. 

As if your emotions hadn’t already taken you on a wild roller coaster of a ride today, the adorable sight in front of you had you on the verge of tears again, wiping the wetness pooling in your eyes with the back of Frankie’s sweatshirt sleeve drooping off your arm before crawling into the blanket fort he had constructed for the two of you. 

“Frankie… You didn’t have to do this.” You sniffled, curling up next to Frankie as he draped a blanket over your lap and his arm over your shoulder, passing you a plate with 2 large pieces of pizza. 

“It’s the least I could do. I put on Hercules for us to watch, but if you wanna-” 

Before you could let him finish the rest of his sentence, you were running your hand across the scratchy stubble of his cheek, pulling his face closer to yours as you planted a kiss on his lips, feeling your smiles melt into one another's as your mouths met. “That sounds perfect. God, how’d I get so lucky?” 

“I could say the same thing, mi amor. You ready to start the movie?” 

“Only if you also pass me that tub of Ben and Jerry’s to go with my pizza.” 

“I think I can make that happen.” 

About half way through the movie, pizza and tub of chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream, your and Frankie’s bodies were tangled together in a sea of limbs and blankets, contently snuggled up with one another as Frankie’s fingers traced lazy circles on your back and shoulder as you laid against his chest. 

“You doin’ okay, querida? Need anything?” He cooed, his soft voice dancing in your ear. As if it weren’t enough that you had already been through the extreme highs and lows of almost every feeling under the sun today, the one you hadn’t been until this very moment was insatiably horny. While the mood swings you had mentally prepared yourself for with your new period symptoms, the constant other kind of ache between your legs you had not, and feeling the low rasp of Frankie’s words tickling your neck had been just enough to flip the switch to make you desperately needy. 

Letting your leg slide over Frankie’s lap, you pushed yourself up to straddle his hips, running your hands through the dark curls of his thick, brown hair, and down his broad chest, your fists bunching the worn fabric of his shirt in your hands as your mouths became a mess of tangled tongues and teeth. 

“I need- fuck- I need you, Frankie, please.” You pleaded between muffled moans, his tongue swiping in the parted space where your lips melted together as one, instinctively beginning to grind your hips into his, feeling the bulge in his sweatpants starting to grow beneath you. 

“Fuck- You sure, baby?” Frankie rasped, reactively bucking up into you, making you whine as his hands dug into your hips, guiding you as you swirled over the tented fabric of his bottom half rubbing against your covered core. 

“Please. Please, Frankie.” You were all but whimpering at this point, nodding frantically in approval as Frankie used the grasp on your hips to guide you onto your back, making you cock your head in confusion as Frankie scampered to the other side of the couch, back turned to you as he reached over the ledge, pulling out a thick, black towel with a smug grin on his face. “Did you seriously have a towel ready incase I wanted to have sex?” You snorted, shaking your head at Frankie, now crawling back to you, caging your body under his with an electric kiss as he shimmied the towel underneath you. 

“Maybe.” Frankie smirked, breaking from your kiss to let his lips trail down your body, his hands toying with the edge of his sweatshirt covering your body as he pushed it up your stomach and chest, helping you to shimmy it over your head, leaving your top half exposed. He gently palmed at your breasts, taking each pebbled nipple in his mouth, sucking and flicking at the buds with his tongue before letting his kisses travel down the soft skin of your stomach and waistband of your sweatpants. The clothes on your bottom half soon joined your sweatshirt in a crumpled pile as Frankie nestled himself between your legs, gently nudging your hips to let your thighs part, revealing your pussy, slick and shiny for him with your juices. 

Even though Frankie would eat you out for breakfast, lunch, dinner, and a late night snack, you couldn’t help but feel guilty that he still found himself between your legs during your time of the month, considering any other man probably would have scoffed at just the thought of going down on you on your period. 

But, then again, Frankie Morales wasn’t just any other man. 

“Frankie, baby, you know you don’t- Oh fuck!” You gasped, cut off in surprise as Frankie’s tongue licked a long, broad strip across your cunt, making you shudder in pleasure as his head perked up, revealing the devilish grin spread between his cheeks watching your chest already heave in heavy, shaky breaths. 

“Oh I know I don’t have to, sweet girl. But I want to. Relax, baby, lemme take care of you.” 

Before you could agree, protest, or anything in between, Frankie was back between your legs, arms wrapped around your thighs as they draped over his broad shoulders, digging his fingertips into the plush softness of your skin, dragging his tongue through your folds with the exact grace and precision that he knew made you fall apart in seconds. 

With flat, firm presses of his mouth latched against your clit, you could already feel your bottom half writhing under him, the perfect pressure of his tongue dancing around your sensitive bundle of nerves making you moan in pleasure. As your head dipped back, falling into the couch pillow behind you, your hand shot down, fingers burying themselves in the wild curls of Frankie’s hair, tugging at the thick ends for any sort of release as he worked relentlessly at your aching cunt. 

“Fuck, Frankie, oh fuck- Fuck, baby, you feel so good.” You whined, your praise only intensifying the way your husband drank every ounce of you up, two thick fingers now gently pressing inside your heat, curled deliciously as they rocked in and out of your entrance, nudging against your g-spot. 

Frankie had spent enough time worshiping the altar that was your pussy to know exactly how to make you crumble beneath him, leaving you chanting his name like a prayer as his lips latched around your clit, ferociously sucking as his fingers prodded at the soft, spongy spot that made your cunt begin to clench and heat in your belly pool. 

“That’s it, Hermosa. I know you’re close, baby girl. Let me feel you, mi amor. I’ve got you.” Frankie groaned, his words humming deep in his chest, placing chaste kisses on the inside of your thighs before drinking you up like a man starved, adding a third finger into your heat, the added fullness and stretch, combined with Frankie’s relentless pace, enough to have the tingle that had been building at the base of your spine now washing through every inch of your body. Your orgasm began to crash through you, your pussy fluttering as pleasure radiated in your veins, making you cry out Frankie’s name over and over. 

Frankie worked persistently through your high, only pulling back after making sure that you had cum again, sitting back on his haunches as he admired the blissed out and ragged mess you had become, your pussy slick and swollen as your chest rose and fell in wrecked inhales and exhales, trying to compose yourself from the Frankie and fucked you senseless with just his tongue. 

Wiping the slick and juices glistening in his mustache with the back of his hand, Frankie tugged the sweatshirt covering his own body over his head, followed by his pants and boxers, freeing his painfully hard cock as it slapped against his stomach, his tip red and leaking with precum as his broad body loomed over yours, sucking and nipping at your pulse point as you whimpered his name. 

“Frankie, holy fuck.” 

“Such a good girl for me, querida. You still want me to fuck you, baby?” He mewled, the metallic and tangy taste of you still lingering on his tongue as he kissed you, laughing to himself at the way you found yourself frantically nodding your head to tell him yes before your words could. 

“Jesus Christ, yes. Fuck, please Frankie, I need to feel you.” 

Reaching down to stroke himself, he lined his cock up with your entrance, easily sliding into your heat and brushing his tip against your cervix, taking a moment to let you adjust to his fullness. The whine you let out as Frankie filled every inch of you was nothing short of ragged, digging your nails into the skin of his broad back as he ever so slowly began to thrust in and out of you, dragging his length against the slick of your cunt. 

“Oh fuck me- Fuck, you hear how wet you are for me, sweet girl? This what you needed, baby? To fill up that pretty little pussy of yours?” Frankie groaned, letting his forehead rest against yours, his sweaty curls now starting to stick to his skin as he pounded into you, rutting his hips at a faster and faster pace. 

“It’s all for you, Frankie- Oh shit- only for you.” You moaned, your fingers wrapping around the width of his biceps, flexing deliciously as he hovered over you, sucking you in to a long, deep kiss, fucking into you over and over. 

Even with the years between you and the ring on your finger, the possessive part of Frankie’s brain would never get over how the primal and all consuming feeling of knowing you were his, forever, your words shooting straight to his dick as a low groan rumbled in his chest, silently cursing to himself through gritted teeth, watching you fall apart below him. 

Readjusting himself, Frankie sat back on his heels, hooking his arm under one of your legs to drape it over his shoulder, the new angle stretching you out in a way that had you seeing stars as Frankie rammed into your g-spot and began thumbing at your clit, still swollen and sensitive from your first orgasm. You could already feel the heat beginning to bloom in your belly once again, your leg beginning to tremble hoisted over Frankie’s shoulder as he dug into the meat of your thigh with a bruising intensity. 

Just like he would never get over the fact of knowing you were his, Frankie would never get over watching you begin to crumble under his touch, taking the time to memorize every twitch and twinge your body made as you came closer and closer to your end, always savoring in the moaning mess you’d become as you fell apart around him. 

“Fuck, Frankie, Fuck, oh my god- I’m close, baby.” You were all but rambling at this point, your brain barley stringing together coherent sentences as you felt your cunt beginning to clench around his cock, the lewd noises of your moans, wetness and skin slapping together as your hips met filling the room at a borderline pornagraphic rate. 

“Meirda, I’m not gonna last much longer, hermosa. Fuck, where do you want me, baby?” Frankie growled through gritted teeth, his eyes locking on yours and telling him everything he needed to know without you saying a word. 

“Inside. Fuck, please Frankie, I want you to cum inside me.” 

Your confirmation was all it took to flip the switch in Frankie that sent him absolutely feral, the thought of being able to actually knock you up now that you weren’t on birth control anymore, giving you a baby, proving another way to the world to mark you as his? The thought alone was enough to have him bracing every bone in his body to keep him from cuming right then and there. 

“Fuck me. You want me to fill you up, querida? Fuck me full of you? Fuck a baby into you? That's what you want, huh?” Frankie moaned, grunting with each thrust of his hips, his rhythm becoming more frantic and shaky as he felt your pussy begin to flutter around him, pressing the pads of his fingers against your clit, swirling them in frantic circles to make sure you came before he did. 

“Fuck, yes. I need you too, holy fuck- wanna make you a daddy, Fransisco.” 

You could feel the tightly wound knot in your core starting to snap, your legs trembling and breath shaking as Frankie fucked into you, finding yourself on the verge of collapse- but not before Frankie’s filthy mouth got the last word in. 

“Jesus, fuck- Fuck, hermosa. That’s what you want, pretty girl? I swear, I’m gonna fuck myself so deep into you it’ll fucking take. Get you fucking pregnant tonight.” 

That was all it took to have you orgasm come crashing through you, every inch of your body radiating with pleasure as you came, crying out Frankie’s name as you gushed around him, your eyes practically rolling to the back of your head, your mind going blank and numb, the only thing grounding you were the incoherent ramblings of your husband as he followed suit behind you. 

“Fuck, that’s it, baby. Fuck, I’m gonna cum too, fuck, fuck-ahhhhhh.” With one final thrust, Frankie could feel himself spilling against your walls, coating you with his spend as his cock pulsed, making sure he milked himself of every last drop deep inside your cunt before even thinking about pulling out. Moving your leg, Frankie slumped into you, splaying himself across your body as your chests rose and fell in sync, laying in silence as you let your breathing steady, coming back down to Earth from your high. 

With a shallow grunt, Frankie carefully pulled his softening cock out of your heat, leaning back to admire the mess he had made between your legs, his cum dripping down the inside of your thighs and pussy glistening with the mixture of your arousal. You let out a soft hiss at the loss of Frankie’s fullness inside you, only to quickly be replaced by a gasp as he buried his two fingers back into your cunt.  

“Gotta make sure every last drop stays in there, hermosa. Gonna keep you full of me all night, baby.” He mewled, carefully gathering his spend and pushing it deep inside you, making you whimper as he slowly pulsed his fingers back and forth, pulling away his hand to lean back into your body, engulfing you with an electric kiss. 

“Holy fuck, fuck me. Jesus, Frankie.” You laughed to yourself, your head dipping back on the pillow as you buried your face in your hands, at a loss for words at how euphoric you now felt in your post colital bliss. 

“Wow, again, already? Gotta give me a few after that querida.” He smirked, making you roll your eyes at his joke as you playfully swatted at him, making him lean in to pepper your body with kisses, leaving you squealing and squirming in delight. 

“You are absolutely ridiculous, Fransisco Morales. If you keep fucking me like that, then yeah, absolutley.” 

“If I keep fucking you like this, I have a very hopeful feeling that next month, we’ll have something else to care about besides period cramps.”

“I swear to god, if one of my cravings ends up being buffalo chicken dip once I’m pregnant, I’m gonna be pissed.”

Taglist:

@bloodyinspirationaldemon @vee-bees-blog @jaciejay13 @poodlebae @gobaaby-blog-blog @lola8888673 @persephone-girl @copperhalfcent @innerpersonunknown @messinadresss @devineconjuring @endlessthxxghts @cool-iguana @rhoorl @bbiophiliaa @pertinentpostmortem @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @theorganasolo @endlessthxxghts @messinadress @persephone-girl @bitchesuntitled @amyispxnk @honeyedmiller @mountainsandmayhem @ilovepedro @pascalscoffin @missladym1981 @munson-hargrove-barnes86 @angel98624 @anoverwhelmingdin @pimosworld @nandan11 @iloveenya @survivingandenduring

[writing-fanics]

Nothing lasts forever

Lucifer Morningstar x Reader

[warning: cheating: angst: panic attack: implied death]

‘More than anything music box’

As you stood there, your heart felt as though it had stopped beating at that very moment. Your breathing started to slow down as your smile faltered and transformed into a frown. A look of profound sadness and sorrow took over your face as you gazed at the scene before you.

Your eyes were fixed on Lucifer, one of the most beautiful angels in all of Heaven, the one you had opened your heart up to and shared your deepest feelings with.

But now, you were witnessing him cheating on you with Lilith, the first woman and Adam's wife. The pain you felt was almost unbearable, as you watched the love of your life betray your trust and shatter your heart into a million pieces.

You could feel your throat closing as your breathing quickened. You felt sick to your stomach as if someone had punched you in the gut. You wanted to throw up. You wanted to scream. To cry, to disappear from existence. You couldn’t believe he’d do such a thing to you, were you not enough?

Were you not as beautiful as she is? Were you too clingy? To annoying? Why did he betray you and your trust?

He promised to always be by your side when you needed him, to always catch you when you fall. To be your shoulder to cry on. To never break your trust.

But here he was breaking that very promise and trust, leaving you feeling empty and hollow. The two of you were made for each other, and with the scene unfolding before you. Made you think otherwise.

“I love you, Lilith,” whispered Lucifer, as he stared at Lilith in awe kissing her on the lips.

Your whole world shattered as your back hit the tree, and you slid down onto the ground. Placing your hand over your mouth, muffling your wails. You couldn’t breathe and felt the world closing in on you. You were nothing to him. You sniffled quietly placing your head into your hands, and wept as you swiftly flew away.

You fell into a heap on the floor of your house, sobbing as you curled up into a ball. You saw everything and what you saw would forever be engraved into your memory, you’ll never get it out of your head. Seeing them like that, him like that with another woman. Made your stomach turn, how could he do such a thing to you?

“W- Was I not enough?” You whimpered, as you lay in the fetal position. Your face is red and puffy cheeks stained with tears, your heart aching and unbearable pain. You knew he felt what you were going through at this moment, and couldn’t care less to comfort you. Your love was bound and could feel each other's emotions when they became severe, and you knew for a fact he could feel it.

But didn’t care enough to comfort you. He was having too much fun with Lilith, doing things that he should only be doing to you his lover.

You thought he would never do such a thing to you. Never betray you and break your heart, and here he was ripping it right out of your throat. If he had noticed you would he have stopped? Would he have kept going? Taunting you, teasing you, on an act he’d never done to you. Such an act he’ll never do to you now.

You thought your relationship was good perfect even. Yes, you had the occasional fight but would always end up back in each other’s arms, holding each other lovingly. Feeling safe and secure in each other's warm embrace.

“I'm so sorry, my dear duckling," he whispered, pulling you close and showering your shoulder with gentle kisses. "Please know that I understand how you feel.”

"I forgive you, Luci," you said, enveloping him in a warm embrace and smiling through your tears as he held you. He pressed a tender kiss to your forehead and whispered comforting words in your ear, promising to make things right.

You banged your fist against the cold ground; gripping at the fabric of your clothes, as you cried. The tears didn’t seem to stop and wouldn’t anytime soon. You couldn’t breathe, the room around you started to spin. You felt dizzy and nauseous, feeling bile rising in your throat causing you to gag. You swallowed and gripped the side of your head.

You tossed it to the ground, screaming and crying in anger and frustration. “HOW COULD HE DO THIS TO ME!” You shouted, trashing everything that reminded you of him. You couldn’t stop crying, the things this man did to you. How he made you smile and laugh, how he made you fall head over heels.

You wanted to disappear and fade back into dust, your original form. To not be forced to live with this pain for all eternity, knowing that even after this you’d still love him. He’d come back and apologize slowly making up for it but…..

You stood there with the other angels, his siblings trying their best to comfort you. As you watched him be banished from Heaven, cast down with his new lover. Leaving you there alone in Heaven, with no shoulder to cry on.

You found yourself standing amidst a group of angels, feeling a sense of unease and trying hard to keep yourself composed. As you looked ahead, you noticed him standing before Lilith, his wings stretched out protectively, shielding her from any harm. The sight of him being so close to Lilith made your heart ache with a mixture of emotions.

You couldn't help but wonder if you were so unpleasant to look at that he couldn't even spare a glance in your direction. The whole situation left you feeling conflicted, and you couldn't help but feel a twinge of jealousy towards Lilith, who seemed to have his undivided attention.

As you stood there looking at him, you noticed that his gaze had shifted to meet yours. It was then that you saw a hint of remorse in his eyes, and you couldn't help but feel a wave of sadness wash over you. In that moment, a single tear trickled down his cheek, and you averted your eyes, unable to bear the intensity of the situation.

As you looked away from him, he noticed the tears that had welled up in your own eyes, and the hollow, defeated expression etched on your face. It was a moment of deep emotional turmoil for both of you, and the silence that hung between you was almost suffocating.

“Nothing lasts forever,” Azrael said, as he placed his hand on your shoulder squeezing it gently in reasurrance.

You shook your head and stepped outside of the courtroom, stopping at the stairs. You reached around your neck taking off the necklace, Lucifer had given you years ago.

You stared at it for a moment, opening it. A soft melody played, tears trickled down her cheeks as whisps of yellow magic swirled, around the locket music box. A duck swam in a pond while a swan, swam up next to it nuzzling their heads into each other.

As she witnessed the heartwarming scene unfolding before her, she couldn't help but let out a choked sob. A tearful smile graced her face as she watched the duck and the swan gradually transform into Lucifer and You, respectively. The two characters held each other closely, their embrace exuding a sense of comfort and security.

Lucifer, still holding onto You, took to the skies, flying around with exuberance. His laughter filled the air, and his smile was contagious. You, too, shared in his joy, reveling in the moment with him.

As they soared through the clouds, a vivid memory of their first kiss flashed before your eyes. You remembered how you had wrapped your arms tightly around his neck, and he had held you close to him. The moment had been magical, and it was a memory that you cherished deeply.

You smiled, closing the locket as a gust of wind blew the magic away, and you along with it, returning back to your original form to dust.

A/n: idk what I just created there’s no part ii for this unless y’all beg me for it but idk still]

Taglist

@froggybich

[gtgbabie0]

-Cregan Stark x Dreamer!Reader

{The war has brought many casualties, those that you’ve already seen begin to unfold before you}

I’ve received many requests for another part so here it is, sorry for the long wait. Enjoy my lovelies!! 💕

//!CW!// spoilers for Rhaenyra’s death//

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺

The sound of men and clanging metal intermingled throughout the camp, overwhelming your senses. It was a sound Cregan promised would soon become a distant noise. He was wrong.

You sit on the bed, palms pressing against your ears with a deep frown. You hated it here, hated the cold and the men and the noise and the way they all looked at you with a strange look in their eyes as if you were some kind of creature from beyond the wall that their nursemaids used to scare them with.

You missed Winterfell, the warm castle and the glass garden that you spent hours in, admiring the winter roses. It had quickly become your home and you were sick with the desire to go back, but Cregan wanted you here he needed you here.

You just wanted to escape from your mind, the murmurs and whispers. The way it screams at you to make the blasted noise all stop.

“Apologies, there was some trouble with the-” his words fall short as he spots you, wrapped up in furs, hunched over and covering your ears as if you were in pain. The sight was an immediate punch to the gut.

He felt awful in truth, he should’ve left you home in warmth where you could be comfortable, but the daunting thought of you going through another episode whilst he was gone, far away from you… it was enough to make his stomach turn with unease.

“Y/n?…” he calls your name softly, sitting down beside you with a small frown. His index finger and thumb cup your chin to tilt your head, making you look up at him.

“I want to go back home.” You tell him, your voice trembling with sadness and from the cold air that was clearly getting to you.

He nods in understanding, working his fingers around your wrists to bring your hands away from your ears and down into his lap. Gods, you weren’t making him feel any better.

“I know my girl, just hang in there.” He whispers the same thing he has told before. His voice was hoarse with exhaustion but loving all the same. His thumb caresses over your knuckles, trying to soothe away your troubles and bring you warmth.

However, his gentleness does very little to quell the sudden pang of frustration that hits your chest.

“It’s cold and noisy and I’m sick of being looked at like some sort of monster!… you’ve dragged me out here for your own sake without a single care about me!” The words come out too quick and too harsh. Regret immediately fills your heart.

He stops for a moment, looking a little taken aback by your sudden anger. his expression softens as he squeezes your hand. “You know that’s not true.” He tells you firmly, his hands still holding your own tightly. He was worried for you, deeply, it showed in smaller ways but it was still fiercely there. “You’re here for your own good… I’m sorry.”

He can tell you are miserable, the way your lips purse together in a pout and how your eyes seem to droop. such an expression didn’t suit you. Silence settles between the pair of you, his thumb rubbing across your soft palm.

“Forgive me for shouting, I do not mean to.” The words leave your lips in a soft whisper, defeat weighing heavily against your shoulders as you slouch.

“Don’t be silly, I’ve dealt with unruly men with tempers far worse than yours for weeks now” He sighs, giving you a small smirk which you return weakly.

“I could be worse if you’d like.” You tease lightly, trying to make light of the situation you are currently stuck in.

“No, you’re alright.” He deadpans, trying to fight the smile that tugs at the corners of his lips as he brings your hand to his mouth, pressing a kiss against your knuckles. “You’ve already got the dragon's temper.” His words are muffled against the back of your hand and for a moment you feel the warmth that you craved.

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The following days were slow, not much happened and the Ravens seemed to be few and far between. You were nowhere near Kings Landing, the snow on the floor could attest to that.

You found peace within your tent- away from prying eyes who judged you without even knowing you- curled up in the furs enjoying how the air carried a twinge of the warmth dragged from the bonfire that was in the centre of the camp. Soon enough sleep would capture you, allowing you a small moment of respite.

Cregan had left you not too long ago, whispering a promise of returning as soon as possible whilst pressing gentle kisses against your forehead in an attempt to coax you to sleep. The sun had set since then, and the camp was now much calmer than it had been as of late, it seems as though the men were getting restless.

Sleep had always been a false sense of security for you, ever since you could remember. Rhaenyra, your mother, had tried every remedy known to the Maester on Dragonstone, she had even resorted to sending ravens to the Citadel but to no avail.

With the history books telling her little to nothing and the Maesters all at a loss she felt as if she had failed you, but then again most dreamers in your lineage were failed. Doomed from the moment they first drew breath.

You were clearly no exception, and your dreamless sleep soon turned violent. The cries, hot dragon fire, a woman burning, the smell of charred flesh. you had seen this one before but not like this, not so real as if you were witnessing it first hand.

It plays on repeat and you can’t seem to wake or move for that matter, paralysed to do nothing but watch. Then you see her, your mother, her purple eyes meet your own as she stands before a golden Dragon. She does not flinch or cry out for the Gods but merely braces herself for the inevitable.

The sight of her burning body sends a searing heat through your spine almost as if you had taken her place. Suddenly you’re jolting upright, screaming until your lungs feel like they might just collapse and kicking the furs off of your body.

“No! no… no, no.” You mumble to yourself, standing up on unsteady feet as you stumble out of the tent and into the freezing cold air. The chill gives you relief then everything goes numb, and the world around you doesn’t feel stable enough like some kind of weary dream.

Smoke was the only thing you could smell, so strong that it chokes you up as you continue to rush through the camp. Muttering about fire and dragons to yourself, completely crazed in the eyes of the men around you.

“Lady Stark?!” The sound of worried voices filters through the ringing in your ears. It’s too much.

Cregan had long abandoned the meeting in one of the tents as soon as your scream echoed through the camp, shouting demands to the men around him whilst rushing to try and get you in a desperate attempt.

Strong hands grasping your elbows causes you to stop in your tracks, it was Cregan, you were safe. You stare up at him all teary-eyed and shallow breaths. Your own hands tremble as you hold his forearms tightly.

“She’s burning… breathing dragon, burning flesh, she's burning.” You tell him frantically, your fingers digging into the leather on his arms. “She’s burning.” The words all come out in harsh gasps.

“Seven hells… you’re going to freeze.” He rasps, taking off his fur cloak to drape it over your shoulders, pulling it around your body to protect you from the chill in the air.

You continue to hold onto him for dear life, muttering a series of “No… no… please no.” Against his chest as he holds you close to him tightly, his hand cradling the back of your head.

“Go on, off with you all!… you’ve got better things to be doing.” He shouts, watching the men disappear back into their own tents, busying themselves with a few odd tasks.

He guides your tense body back over to the warmth of your shared tent, sitting you down on the bed as you continue to murmur incoherent words of protest. Cregan brushes his fingers through your hair, trying to pull you out of his dazed state.

“She’s going to die… she's dying, I don’t want her to die.” You panic, hands grasping his own with a worried look, brows pulled together.

“Who, who will die?” He asks softly, the rough pad of his thumb gently rubs over your knuckles, soothing the tremble in your hands.

“My mother… it was so clear, please, we have to warn her.” The words are a struggle to get out, trying to fight the way your throat closes up.

He watches the helplessness in your eyes intensify, how your fingers tighten around his hands in desperation. There was little either of you could do so far away, your dragon had died a whelp and the ravens would never make it to Kings Landing in time. All he can do is pull you against his chest, wrapping his arms around you.

“I’m sorry, my sweet, I’m sorry…” he murmurs against your hairline, holding you as you cry against his shoulder.

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You never lost hope, for the following days. You waited on bated breath for further news, constantly looking up at the sky for any Ravens… Dragons… anything that would be a sign she was still alive. Nothing had come until the early hours of the next morning.

Two scrolls with the wax seal of House Targaryen. Two deaths that would officially end the ongoing conflict.

“Y/n?…” Cregan calls your name softly, watching you intently as the letters fall from between your fingers and onto the floor.

You shake your head in disbelief, eyes fixed on the ground beneath you. You did not cry, you couldn’t and it destroyed Cregan. He’d rather your tears than this distant look of despair that glazes across your eyes. His hand rests against your own, fingers caressing your palm gently.

“The stranger looms behind me, whispering the fates of my loved ones into my ears and all I can do is stand by and watch… I am useless.” Your whisper, voice so hushed and broken.

Cregan doesn’t know what to say, he’s at a loss and he fears any words that dare leave his lips will just end up coming out as a sob. Instead, he pulls on your hand until you’re collapsing against him, head tucked under his chin.

“Don’t blame yourself… she wouldn’t want that.” He whisper, pressing a kiss to the top of your head as your arms wrap around him, clinging to him like he was your lifeline.

He spoke the truth, he’d already heard plenty about your mother from both you and Jacaerys enough to know that her love for you was beyond what words could ever describe.

Maybe it was the exhaustion… the cold… or the grief that broke the dam in your eyes, making you cry out in choked sobs against his chest as his fingers brush through your hair soothingly.

“I want to go home Cregan…” you beg him through tears, going limp against his sturdy form.

“I’ll get you home sweet girl… I will.” He promises, not daring to let you go just in case you completely crumble before him. He would keep his oath he made to your mother, to protect you even from your own mind. Cregan would soon take you home but not before you witness your youngest brothers crowning.

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