#cut yourself on those cheek bones

[tonycries]

THIS P*SSY DEPRESSED!

Synopsis. Don’t worry, he knows exactly the solution when you’re upset - fúck it out of you, of course!

Pairings. [SEPARATE] Gojo x Reader, Sukuna x Reader, Choso x Reader, Geto x Reader, Nanami x Reader, Toji x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, creampíes, FÉRAL GOJO, cheering you up, oraI (fem receiving), breéding, MAJOR overstím, PRAISE, THEY’RE SO DOWN BAD, lowkey sweet, slight exhíbitionism (Toji’s), mean Geto, síxty-nine, chokíng, making Choso cry mhm, spítting, pússy-slappíng, cúmplay, pet names, swearing.

Word count. 5.9k

A/N. You’re loved n’ I hope y’all have a good leak day <3

♡ TOJI FUSHIGURO - Noise complaint(s)

Any time Toji decided to visit you in your cute lil’ apartment, so did a few complaints from your neighbors. 

It wasn’t because of his intimidating presence, or those deadly glares of his - targeted at everyone but you, or even because of the way his large frame unapologetically blocked every doorway in your building.

No, they were noise complaints. 

“So that’s what’s got my girl so mm- upset?” Toji has the audacity to chuckle - chuckle - so raggedly at that syrupy pout of yours he’s kissing away. “Usually you and this sweet pussy-” He cups a palm at your glistening cunt, smearing your sweet, sweet juices in a glossy sheen down his wrist. “-are so happy to see me, n’ now you want to keep her quiet? All because some blue-balled loser just moved in next door and got jealous overhearing your pretty moans?”

At your nervous nod, he clicks his tongue gruffly, “Makin’ you all upset like this, tch-” Leaning down to whisper, until his sharp canines graze dangerously against your earlobe, “He’s about to find out that he hasn’t heard even half of it.”

“But Toji!” you’re squealing, fingers scrambling to clamp your already-deliriously sagging mouth shut. “I told you- we have to mmpf- be quiet. He seemed so grumpy, and-”

You’re being cut off with Toji nudging the divot of his fat head against your g-spot, until all those complaints are lodged in your quivering chest by a moan. Teasing, “Talking ‘bout another man when m’trynna make you feel better, doll? Bold today, aren’t ya?”

“N-no I was jus-” Barely-audible babbles drag out of you at the heavenly stretch of your pussy lips. Toji’s muscled chest heaves up and down at the way your pussy lips addictively swallow up his leaky cock, slobbering down, down, down his length till it glistened in the dim lighting. Your legs kicking up in the air when he insistently feeds your cunt inch by greedy inch. 

Again. And again and again and so needy. Depraved. 

But it still wasn’t enough for him.

“Aww, come on, woman.” He’s rolling his eyes, that tiny scar curling up in a devilish grin when he pries away the hand on your mouth. “Why’re you lyin’ to yourself like this? I know you wanna heh- scream my name as much as this cute cunt of yours is right now. Do it.”

As if to confirm his point, Toji’s pushing apart your puffy folds to let your gaping pussy squelch! even louder at each of his bullying thrusts. Tight ring of muscle taking each and every smack of his sharp hip bones so well, the riotous creaking of your bed following shortly, headboard just slamming into your poor wall despite being bolted onto it.

It was already so loud. 

“I don’t hngh-” you let out a feverish gasp when each roll of his hypnotic cadence gets too much. “I don’t wanna give off a b-bad impression…I just want the neighbors to like me.”

Heart clenching in his chest at how cute you are, how sorry your voice sounds, he finds his irritation flaring once again at whoever this bastard was that had you doubting yourself this way.

“Doll– they’d be fuckin’ stupid not to. And I’d beat their asses, too.” Two soft pads of his fingers come to smush your cheeks together, forcing you to stare up into his darkened emerald eyes. “But my poor baby’s still ngh- upset, no?” When you’re hesitant with your answer, they slide down to your neck - just barely putting a bit of leering pressure, “Answer me while m’still being nice, doll.”

It’s all you can do to choke out a shrill, “Yes.” He can feel your walls clenching around every ridge and prominent vein down his shaft so tight with every sultry, mewled-out word. “H-he was really sweet! But it made me- a bit- jus’ a bit.”

“See?” And Toji sounds so smug, predatory tone bleeding into the way his harsh rams pick up to an obscene speed. A thumb of his dips down to swivel over your neglected clit, wrenching out those candied moans he loves so much. “Nothin’ wrong with makin’ my girl feel better after a shitty experience. N’ if anyone has anything to s-say, they can come complain to hngh- me.”

“B-but-”

“Ah ah-” Toji kisses sloppily at your lips trying to press together and quieten, sucking on your lower lip. “What did I say just now? Loud, pretty girl.” 

And it’s like a dam breaks open right then and there, you’re arching your body off the bed like such a slut to press your bare tits against Toji’s pecs. Sensitive. Faster. “Toji- oh fuck, m’so-”

“Heh, louder. I don’t hear you losing your beautiful voice yet.”

Keening, “M’so close. Fuck- g-gonna cum all over your cock.”

He’s cupping his ear so mockingly, hips still stuttering and thrusting forwards without a moments’ faltering. “Still can’t hear you, m-ah not gonna let you cum if you’re not loud enough, y’know.”

You were sure your sinful noises were traveling through the heavy, plastered wall now. Picking up in pitch and speed with every double-attack on your sweet spots everywhere. Spearing the lewd curve of his dick into you, he’s fucking you into the mattress so mean - meaner that usual. Rugged muscles of his toned waist flexing when he jostles and thrusts unforgivingly. Your voice is hoarse at this point, “Fuck- fuck fuck fuck Toji m’cumming. I’m-”

Every other loud moan is drowned out by the ringing in your ears, Toji’s own soft rasps filtering through the white-hot pleasure running down your spine. 

He’s fucking you through wave after wave of high, gifting your bruised g-spot with a thorough, sly pistons of his still-swollen cock. Something that didn’t bode well for you, you already knew. 

“Tha’s it. Yeahh, that’s it-” A hand cups the back of your head gently, even though his slamming staccato was anything but. “Loud. Jus’ like that- shit, gonna make him jealous. Have him regret makin’ my girl upset, fuck-” An irritated banging sounds from the other side of the wall right above your headboard - your neighbor. “Fuck, just watch I’ll give him a real show.” Still throwing jagged hips your way, ram after ram. “What’s the fucker’s name again?”

“He- he said his name was Shiu.”

♡ NANAMI KENTO - Sweet, sweet treat

“I can fix it.” your husband eyed that droopy bowl of frosting and back to your candied, icing-glossed pout. He can’t help but plant a sweet, sweltering kiss on them, just groaning out, “We can do it together.” Barely managing to break away and breathe out, “S’gonna- turn out- perfect, my love.”

Which is how you find yourself splayed out so shamefully on the cool granite countertops of your kitchen, your soft cotton dress only pulled lazily to the side. Nanami’s knees seated firmly on the hardwood floors, face tucked in between the heavenly sweet folds of your already soaked cunt. 

“Oh- oh fuck, Ken–” he makes you let out a honeyed drawl with every drag of his hot tongue up and down your soppingly wet slit. “Y-you’re gonna get the- ngh- counter dirty!”

So what? He thinks, and it only takes a flicker of surprise in your half-lidded eyes for him to realize he accidentally said that out loud. Not used to those uncharacteristically brash sentences, but Nanami was so drunk off your addictive juices right now. 

Tipping his head back, back, back to let them make their slow, sultry journey down his throat. He’s slurring out proudly, “I’ll clean the mess after I cheer up my upset lil’ wife, okay?”

With this, he’s spitting on your quivering cunt. Adding to the glistening gloss that traveled down your folds - and Nanami couldn’t help himself but kiss at the mess he’s made. Over and over and-

“F-fuuuck, jus’ like that-” You’re keening when he’s alternating between hollowing his cheeks out with methodical, never-ending sucks on your sensitive clit and just peeking inside your needy hole with his tongue. “You’re too good with your hngh! -tongue, Ken–”

It’s impossible to run away - and he knew that, too. Every little inch you backed on the counter had him just dragging you back twice as much. Hot tongue clashing and angry to part your swollen pussy lips. 

You can only thread your fingers through his neat blond hair even tighter when he surges back forward. Pussydrunk. Groaning at the lewd smack of his tongue dipping in and out of your puffy folds, Thumb circling around your throbbing clit, “And you’re too sweet, darling. Even sweeter than-” He pools your slick on two thick fingers of his, coating a glossy sheen of obscenity all the way from his rounded tips to the gold wedding ring glinting in the dim light. Before popping them in his mouth to take such long, cleansing drags without even a shred of abashed hesitation, “-that icing of yours.”

“I know–” you’re babbling in disappointment, the full force of your failed attempts at baking something special earlier this evening hitting you once again at full force. “Ugh, what a waste. I can’t even-”

A syrupy beat passes. One. Two. 

And at that very moment, you’re feeling the maddening stretching of your gummy walls being forced to their very limits. Whirling your dazed gaze down to spot that Nanami was now standing, belt unbuckled, tugged down just enough that you were reeling from the pressure of his fat head just barely kissing past your fluttering hole. 

“That’s my wife you’re talkin’ about.” he growls, low and satiny. Hands steadying on the two sides of your trembling thighs, his grunts catch in his throat when he thoroughly sinks his swollen length in. Never-ending, dizzying. A quick frosting-coated glide of Nanami’s fingers on your lips, and he’s pressing another lingering kiss on your slack mouth. Tasting you and the sweet icing and you, “And I don’t let anyone talk about her that way, my love.”

Now, usually, Nanami was a man of patience - liking to prepare and play around with your pretty pussy as if you were his favorite toy. Molding your plush walls like clay to take his massive cock.

But now, oh now Nanami Kento was anything but patient. Shit, he didn’t even know if your snug walls could take him right now. 

Hands curling up into painful fists far away from the curve of your hips, as if he was trying to stop himself from just grabbing your quivering body and just slamming himself inside you until he reached your lungs, your heart, that stupid brain of yours that loved to overthink.

“Don’t you ever fuckin’ say anything bad about my wife. You’re perfect.” he breathes, greedy hazel eyes looking like they could devour you whole. “The frosting is perfect, the anniversary cake is perfect, your smile, your mind, you-” You’re being attacked by a flurry of kisses being gifted on every inch of your face that could be reached, “You you you- I love you.”

If you were in the right state of mind, you’d have responded back in a heartbeat. But right now, he’s not waiting a split-second longer before bullying the rest of his swollen, filthy cock in. Solid inches being shoved inside to force your walls to accommodate, stretching out so maddeningly across every divot and upwards curve down his shaft.

In and out in and out in and-

Your nails tear across his favorite blue button-up, down his muscled shoulders, down to that speckled yellow tie you’d gotten him a few years ago. 

“You’re so- hngh-” you squeal, tugging Nanami closer by his tie. Making him bully past your narrow opening even deeper, slick walls squeezing so tight at how his weepy red tip presses right on top of your g-spot. 

He chuckles, it’s so endearing how you’re already too cockdrunk to speak. One engulfing hand on your shoulder is all it takes for you to be sprawled back on the cool counter. Nanami’s pummeling cock bullying so deep inside your hot core it’s the only thing you can think about - nothing but him. 

“How about, after-” Another dredge of sweet sweet frosting is dabbed along your lips, your heated skin. All for Nanami to lick sultrily, “-we’ll make the cake together, hm?”

♡ CHOSO KAMO - “Just use me, baby.”

Those shallow, sultry words are falling from Choso’s rosy lips before he even realizes it - ringing like sheer melodies over the heady smacking of skin-on-skin where he’s bullying his fat cock into you. 

After a few seconds of his sloppy, stuttering rams sending the gooey puddle of cum and slick spreading further and further on the sticky, silken sheets below you - the words finally register. 

“Use you, baby?” you purr, batting your lashes in a way that has him gulping. Feeling his aching shaft twitch against your gummy walls, swollen balls squeezing so so angrily with how much seed he’d been gushing out tonight. “You want me to use you?”

Each thrust of his is lingering, rolling forwards to push you further and further up that pooling mess. He can’t think, he can’t even breathe. And it takes everything in Choso to groan out, “Yes yes- fuck, please.” You’re feeling him place a trail of wet kisses up to the nape of your neck, big tears clinging to his dark lashes, “If my- hngh- if my girl is upset, I want her to use me. Ruin me till she forgets all about it.”

It only takes a split-second for you to immediately flip around your positions, pinning a whiny, pliant Choso so harshly down onto the plush mattress. 

“Hngh- oh, baby—” He bounces slightly at the sheer force. Dewy eyes rolling to the back of his head at the slobbering sheen of cum dripping down his long, long length. Bucking up his quivering hips till you’re speared all the way down on his cock, clit hitting the tufts of black at his thick hilt. “Fuuuck—.” He’s groaning raggedly, like a mantra, two big arms tugging your body stuck to his sculpted front. Nodding half-lucidly, “Yeah- yeah just like that. Whatever you want with me.”

Your pace was unforgiving - barely even giving him a moment to spew out those pussydrunk promises before rocking your hips up and down up and-

“Use you, huh?” you echo back his own words, the sheer need dripping in them having Choso bow his body upwards to pummel into you in a matching feverish pace. You’re humming, thinking back to those stupid pick-up lines the creepy new manager at work had snided just today. It was harmless, but oh how Choso would kill him if he knew. “Well then, don’t mind if I do.”

With a pained keen, he’s surging upwards onto his elbows, craning his head to mesh your honeyed lips with his. “Mmm- mpfh yeah, exactly like this.” Mixing out such throaty groans with your gasps, so desperate to please you with the way he plants two feet on the bed, thrusting up hazily to find your sweet spots, “S’this any better? How do you- ngh how do you feel, baby?”

You’re letting out a drunken giggle with how he’s the one asking - when really it should be you. Because your sweet boyfriend looked so ruined, eyes wrecked with tears. Milky skin a canvas for possessive red marks from your nails. Kiss-bitten lips spit-glossed and permanently parted in ecstasy, only slacking further every time your snug channel dragged down him. 

“Much better, forgot about m’day already.” you’re hissing into his open mouth. “So fuckin’ gorgeous n’ mine, that bastard doesn’t know what the fuck he’s ah- talking about.”

Choso had no idea what you were talking about - though, he thinks his mind is too much of a hot, gooey mess to understand right now. Still so needy to please. Only being able to babble out a stupid, “Yours- fuck m’yours.”

And despite being the one setting the tempo, you can only let out such whiny groans at the sheer stretch Choso’s swollen cock is causing you. By the way he’s molding your gummy walls to each and every throbbing vein decorating down him.

“Sh-shit m’so close, baby.” he whines, a fresh wave of tears streaming down with each overstimulating smack! of his tight, overworked balls against the curve of your ass. Lazily, like he’s moving through molasses, Choso’s drawing messy patterns on your pulsing clit - not even circles, brain too fried to. “M’so close fuck- I need you to- I need-”

“Shhh shhh.” you coo, running a hand through his dark strands, damp with sweat. “Cum f’me, Cho~”

“Hngh!” He can’t stop his hips from bucking up ferally, crying out, “But- I can’t. Wan’ you to feel better. Need you to cum f’me. Use me-”

“Cho.”

“Please-”

“Choso.” you warn, narrowing your eyes, deciding to tease him a little with shallow, repetitive grinds of your hips up and down. Toes curling at the friction of his creamy seed sloshing around inside. “Cum.”

“Hngh- but-” he’s thrashing upwards, so addicted to the rough collision of your sensitive spots against his fat head. Pulling out such fucked-out moans from you already, “But m’spposed to be making you feel happy-”

Your fingers deftly find themselves on Choso’s temping throat, right above his racing pulse. You tighten your nails just enough to leave five matching crescents to match the rest of his marked-up body.

“Cho–” you puff in a sultry groan against his ear. “All I want is for you to fill me up right now.”

And then he’s spilling into you in thick, hot dredge after dredge of his potent seed - before you’ve even finished your sentence. It overfills your pre-painted cunt, that obscene white slopping out of your slit and onto where your hips rocked against your boyfriend’s even harder. A creamy white ring forming mouthwateringly. Relentlessly. 

“See?” Choso couldn’t - vision blurry, ears stuffed with cotton. “I don’t care what any sleazy manager has to say, you’re perfect for me.” A gentle kiss is placed on his pouty, worried lips and shit you still didn’t show any signs of slowing down, overstimulating him to tears. You trace his furious marks, “N’ pick me up from work tomorrow in your skimpiest muscle tee~”

♡ GETO SUGURU - Overtime?

A lewd smack! is all that’s ringing in your ears right now, so loud over the distant hum of the photocopier. Accompanied shortly by Geto’s sing-song rasp of, “Heh, missin’ our reservation for this- Are you the one havin’ a bad day or am I?”

Before you can answer, you’re being gifted with another mean kiss of your boyfriend’s palm against your bulging pussy. Smack! Lingering on the nudge of where he could feel your sloppy hole mending around his girthy shaft, before dancing upwards to grip your hair in a sultry hold. 

Pulling your entire weight up, up, up like he didn’t care about the way he was treating you like some ragdoll right now. Up to drag his lips towards your ear, “Doesn’t matter, because m’still fuckin’ you just the same.”

“S-Sugu–” your breaths crack with need when he’s pushing in a harsh thrust to slam back into the very bottom of your poor pussy. Eyes darting to the tiny window of your office photocopy room, “Sugu, we’re going to get caught.”

“And yet, she’s still hah- sucking me up as sluttily as ever.” he grins, tilting his head back to get those long, inky strands out of his face. He chuckles at the obscene sight of your cunt stretched to her limits, struggling, and drooling a sweet, sweet gloss down his length. “What’s with the ngh- attitude now? You said you wanted to feel better about working overtime so here we are.”

You bite down on your lower lip to hold back your moans when his fat tip draws a solid, straight line across your bruised cervix. Slamming forwards to have you scrambling forwards into some more important paperwork you really should be looking over right now. 

“I did but-”

“Problem solved then.” Geto lets out a low whistle, sounding so utterly smug when he pulls your hips deeper into his. “Now let me make this shitty workload hah- so much better for you, gorgeous.”

Honestly, when you told your dear boyfriend that you’d have to cancel tonight’s date because of a sudden deadline for tomorrow, you felt guilty. Working after everyone else had left, spewing out upset little apologies until he told you he’d come over to the office to “help you take your mind off of things.”

You just didn’t expect it’d end up like this. 

Smack!

Geto scoffs, “Aww documents have you zoning out on me again, pretty girl? Take a break, didn’t I tell ya you don’t have to worry about work and all those stupid things when you’re with me?”

Your knees weaken involuntarily when his gruff question is followed by such an unapologetic crash into your ravaged g-spot. Thankfully being held up by one of Geto’s strong arms to fuck yourself back all the way from his red, weepy tip to that see-through ring dredged up on his thick base. Somehow, you’re managing to gasp out, “N-no, I was just…”

“N-n-no, you were just zoning out, that’s what.” he’s mocking your answer in an overly-dramatic higher pitch, adding a few extra moans you were spilling with every harsh slam after slam of his hips. “What did I tell you now, relax. Let me fuck this shitty overtime and that shitty boss outta ya cute lil’ head, gorgeous. You and her-” His red-rimmed eyes, drunk on the feeling of your slicked walls enveloping him, lock on the sight of his curved dick disappearing so easily in and out of you. “-don’t have to worry about a thing right now.”

It was that same little promise - the one he’d whispered over and over into your sagging open mouth when he’d first ambushed you in the photocopy room. Bending you over the nearest flat surface before ramming into you all those thick, greedy inches of his long-needy cock.

And here he still was. 

Splatters of your syrupy slick coats his toned pelvis with every jagged thrust, fucking you so deep - so disrespectfully - into the office desk. Your feet don’t even touch the ground now, mind spinning and syrupy. Geto’s bending his own to angle up exactly to hit the bullseye of your sweet spots. All those familiarly mapped-out areas to drive anything and everything out of your mind but him and the temptation for more more more-

Click!

Both of you are raising your heads in sync at the distinct clamor of an opening door somewhere in the office - shit, was someone doing patrols at this time?

Your jaw drops open in shock - and the feeling of your boyfriend sliding two slender fingers to your pulsing clit. Drawing rough, skimming circles on the bundle of nerves. He has you jolting and arching your back right into him, his arms - exactly where he loved to have you. 

“Now we’re-” your words come in strangled little stutters, mindlessly bouncing your ass back onto his cock. Feeling the sinful tremors run down your spine with each slam, “-we’re really gonna get hah- caught. And I’m not even halfway through my project yet.”

And Geto - that smug bastard - sounds amused. He thinks he’ll have a ah- talk with your boss later about piling on workloads later. But for now, he sounds so fucking content when he’s musing, “Better cum fast before they give you more than overtime, pretty girl.” Before planting a deceivingly chaste peck on your lips, “Though, I wouldn’t say ‘no’ to havin’ a cute lil’ housewife to spoil all day either.”

♡ RYOMEN SUKUNA - QUIET TIME!

“Oh, Kuna–”

“Now that’s music to my ears.” Sukuna smirks darkly, lips searing in a trail right down your arched spine. Two inhumanly large hands massage down your back, pulling you against his sculpted front. “So much better to hear you say m’name than complain about some fuckin’ eugh-” His tone trembles in distaste, “-office drama.”

Scoffing, “No need to be so mean, Kuna. You really should’ve heard what Mrs. Smith down at-”

That little tangent earns you a sharp smack! to the fat of your bare ass, cupping the little tremors with a chuckle. He hums with a mocking lilt in his baritone voice, “You’re testing my patience~” Sukuna goes back to kneading at the stressed knots in your body. “Shut up and let me massage you, woman.”

And oh you should’ve learned your lesson - should’ve taken this rare, sweet little moment you’d gotten from your rough boyfriend. Should’ve done anything other than huff out, “Ugh, if only you’d heard what she said, ruined my whole-”

“Lift your hips.”

Your eyes widen at the sudden interruption, “Wh-what?”

“Lift your hips goddammit.”

It’s all you can do to mindlessly head his gruffed out words, legs stuttering and shaky when you get up on all fours. A gasp rips from your throat when Sukuna shuffles into the gap between your pliant body and the silken bedsheets. Not stopping until his hot breath was puffing against your sopping slit, your eyes mere inches away from his massive erection. Throbbing thickly and outlined with precum through his boxers. 

Your mouth waters, “K-Kuna what-”

“So it really takes this to get me back on your mind, huh, brat?” he’s cutting you off with another branding smack on your ass - this time, the very rounded tips of his thick fingers just grazing against your dripping folds. “Couldn’t stop talkin’ about some fuckin’ Mrs. Smith even when I’m right here.”

“Are you jealous?” you muse, brows turning upwards in confusion. “Because I can assure you-”

Before you can run your mouth again, Sukuna’s cutting you off with one hand reaching down to wrap around your throat. The other pulls your shaky hips down to sit on his face. 

“How’s this for jealous?” He grunts, an obscene slurping noise pouring into your hazy bedroom, eyes rolling to the back of his head at this messy kiss with your needy cunt. “Gonna make you forget about those shitty people. Just focus on me.”

You’re managing to wrangle your greedy gaze over your shoulder to spy his lewdly wet smirk, glistening down with a glossed cover of your slick. They’re so pretty, so kiss-bruised in your favorite shade of pink when they wrap around your throbbing cunt to give a harsh suck. “What? Got a problem, woman?”

You wine softly in protest, your lower lip jutting out in a pout that makes his clothed cock just coat down his fat tip with syrupy precum. Opening your mouth to retort and-

In all of two seconds, Sukuna’s hand snug around your throat drops down to tug on his boxers. Tall, angry erection hitting your parted lips with a soft thwack! It doesn’t stay there for long - no, because you feel that familiar pressure back on your throat again, and his achy cock being bullied down, down, down your throat. 

“Actually, don’t answer that.” he’s letting out a strained groan, sanity dancing away with every clench of your tight throat around his glistening shaft. Holding you still with the hand on your throat, Sukuna’s powerful thigh muscles strain when he’s fucking up into your heavenly mouth slow, sultry. Spitting to coat him in all your sweet saliva, “Consider this quiet time, just shut up and take my cock.”

Your eyes are watering, Sukuna’s girth rubbing against every part of your plushy mouth. Swirling a pool of salty precum on your tongue. You can’t do anything but keen brokenly around that warm weight when long, thick fingers are spreading your puffy folds to wrangle his long tongue in deeper. Textures of his tastebuds grazing over and over against your spongy entrance - your clit. 

“Hngh- mmpf-” you’re jutting your hips traitorously. Dragging your slobbering pussy up and down his thorough lips, giving longing, drunken licks up from your weepy base to your hot clit. “Kuna-”

He breaks away with a sinful smack! Your sensitive bud being tugged along with snapping strings of delicate precum and slick.

“Mhm, that’s what I like-” he’s slurring out words mixing together with need. Free hand coming down to toy your clit between two rolling fingers. And you could tell how much he liked this, fat shaft twitching animalistically inside your mouth. Nudging his leaking head at the back of your throat, it’s only with how long you’ve been with Sukuna that you manage not to gag. “-to have you shut up on my cock this way. That pretty mouth is better used for something other than rememberin’ some shitty people when you’re with me. They can fuck right off with the disrespect towards my woman.”

It’s all you can do to keep your jaw slacking further and further with every dragged-out smack of Sukuna’s heavy balls against your face. His hips using you like some glorified cocksleeve, ruthless in his pace. Molding your mouth to the shape of him while he does the very same with yours.

“F-fuuuck-” you manage to gasp out through the drooling edges of your lips. “It feels so- ngh–” Moans getting lost when Sukuna flicks your throbbing clit slowly, nudging with the very tip of his dark fingernails. “You’re being so-”

“So loud.” he finishes your own sentence for you. Grinning a grin that sends shivers up your spine, right to where he was stuffing your mouth shut with all long inches of his cock. Murmuring dangerously around your sloppy hole, “Interrupt quiet time again and you don’t get to cum, brat.”

♡ GOJO SATORU - Unmistakably depraved.

“Fuuuuck, sweetheart.” Gojo’s whispering, over and over. As if he can’t - won’t - manage to articulate anything else right now. The honeyed words wrenching out of him with each sticky crash of his shaft down your sloppy slit in this firm mating press. “Do you know how hngh- long I’ve missed this sweet cunt?”

You don’t have to answer, and the echoing smack! of his too-sensitive balls against the curve of your ass is enough of one for him. Making his eyes gleam with such a feral glint, traveling straight to where he was pressing in bullying little grinds past your clamping walls. 

It’s been so long - too long - about a whole week since your pussy-whipped boyfriend was able to have his fill of you.

A soft pad of his thumb rolls in a  languid circle over your needy clit. Sending white-hot shockwaves that have you jolting the balls of your feet to greedily swallow up even more throbbing inches of him. 

“Fuck, forgot how tight you s-squeeze me when I do that.” Gojo eyes dance to the back of his head with every bottom-out hit against your clingy mess of a cunt. Crashing so messily onto every velvety inch of your cunt. It only takes a few drags of your slobbering walls down his length for your dear boyfriend to run his mouth, “Forgot allll about this because of some- hngh- some mournng for a fucking fictional character-”

“My favorite character, Toru!” you exclaim, through furrowed brows. Both of you are shocked at the fact that you’re still managing to speak in coherent sentences - just means he hasn’t fucked you good enough yet, he muses with his syrupy, pussydrunk mind. “He was my- my favorite and he died and-”

You’re immediately being shut up by two sweet lips planting on your own, immediately moving to suck on your tongue so filthily. “Well, I’m your favorite boyfriend-” Your only, but semantics. Gojo whines - whines, “Shouldn’t I- hngh- be more important?”

As if to help you make your decision, he’s burrowing his cock in such needy thrusts. And Gojo can’t help but crane his neck to bite down on your frantically racing pulse, feeling himself salivate with how well you’re milking each and every single vexing ram of his hips. Just spearing the hotly saturated tip into your spongy g-spots, so fucking big that every stroke feels like a brush against your throat, an indent into the plush walls of your pussy, wrapping and molded around his girth. 

Another bite to your neck at your silence - sharp canines just shy of drawing blood. And you swear Gojo’s eyes spark with an unnatural lightning blue when he devours you with a greedy stare, “Answer me, sweetheart.”

“You a-are.” Is all you can gasp out, but that’s not enough for the great Gojo Satoru. You’re instantly earning a rosy pout and a loaded smack! right on the bullseye of your glistening clit, faintly you think you hear the crackle of jujutsu. Thighs burning at the sheer stretch of being folded down, down, down until your knees knocked against your tits. “You’re more- hah! Fuck fuck fuck don’t– you’re more important!”

This seems to soothe your jealous boyfriend a bit, but it still doesn’t stop him from placing such brutal thrusts on your poor, ravaged pussy. Bruising. Sloppy. 

You’re whining so brokenly, “Fuck, right there- feels too good- hngh!”

“Mhm, exactly what I thought.” Another explosive slap to your sensitive nub, humming with power, and Gojo throws his head back at how much it makes you gush so wetly around his thick hilt. “Now, was that- ngh- was that so hard?” Spitting out little profanities into your lips, as if the man he was jealous over wasn’t a few pixels, “The f-fucker- Had to wait a whole week before I got to comfort my sad girl? I’d kill him myself.”

You can’t even formulate a response to that - not even if you wanted to. Because with increasingly sloppy drags of his cock against your walls, Gojo only grows more and more heated. 

“Fuck- makin’ my girl so upset. Gonna fuck all thoughts outta him for ya.” Babbling out little curses a mile a minute, swift pace bruising your spring cervix, your g-spot. A thin trickle of drool trails messily in-between your clashing kisses, only growing every time he’s ramming into your gripping cunt. “Gonna make you cum- make you mine.” Difficult, even with how you were clinging onto his every rough, angled thrust, and you don’t think Gojo even realizes the possessive little spanks he’s repeatedly leaving on your puffy clit. “Won’t you cum like a good girl f’me, sweetheart?”

He’s moaning at the sloppy way you listen to his ragged plea, letting out such pretty moans into the heady air when you fall back into your high. Toes curling, jolts of needy pleasure running down your spine, such a mess. 

It makes Gojo falter in his tempo, it makes the sharp bones on his toned hips slam into you even harder, stuttering and rutting forwards like some animal in heat that can’t bear to do anything but be buried well inside you. It makes him cum. 

“Oh- fuck, Toru s’in so deep.” You mewl, too cockdrunk to say anything else. To feel anything but the slow, sultry filling of your quivering cunt. Rope after rope of his hot cum painting the mess of your branded walls inside, and each time he’s fucking his cum even deeper you feel a lewd whimper of his name leave you. Vision tinging with need, with the feeling of being so overfilled you could barely breathe. “Oh- oh my god I feel it coming-”

Your words hitch in your throat when Gojo - cock still angry and twitching with faint wisps of trickling cum - plugs a slender finger into your bulging cunt. Stopping the overflow, the grins, “Hope you’re on the pill, my girl, because we’re not done until you forget.”

A/N. Ouu y’all should’ve seen the way I was CACKLING writing Toji’s ending.

Plagiarism not authorized.

[mangostarjam]

taking care — wind breaker, aged up sakura haruka x f!reader, established relationship, "brat" as a petname, smut towards the end, 4.4k words

"Aren't you too old for this?"

Sakura Haruka grimaces and shoves his bruised hands into his pockets. You raise an unimpressed eyebrow. There's dirt smudged along his cheekbone and the end of his sleeve is ripped.

"They were tryin' to hit on a girl." It comes out mumbled. Haruka's two toned gaze is averted to the top of your head. It was always difficult to get him to meet your eye in your high school years, but ever since he hit his growth spurt and graduated you feel like it's gotten worse.

"Haruka-kun," you sigh, "c'mere."

You grab his arm and tug, taking advantage of his brief moment of surprise to drag him into the back of the bakery. Your coworkers wave and smile at the former school captain but otherwise leave the two of you alone.

"Y-you…! What're you doing?"

The back office of Saboten is neat and clean and thankfully empty. You shove Haruka into a chair and grab his chin, ignoring the flare of heat beneath your fingers as he turns bright red.

"Did you get hit on the face?" you ask, leaning closer to look. The dirt smudging his cheek is loose, brushing away easily when you stroke the smooth skin there. You probe gently at the strong bone beneath and ignore the way his chest seizes with a held breath.

"No," he mumbles, "it's just dirt."

Your attention is drawn — as always — to his eyes. A muted, stormy gray blue and a bright, shimmering gold meet your unabashed gaze as your thumb strokes along his cheekbone again.

"I'm glad you didn't get hurt." You allow yourself a tiny grin as he scrunches his nose at you. "You could've let the new Bofurin kids handle it… but those guys will definitely think twice about messing with anyone from our neighborhood now."

"'Course," Haruka sniffs. You wonder if he knows he's leaning into your palm. "It was a quick fight, anyway. Only losers are late."

"I told you, you don't have to pick me up from work. I can handle myself." You giggle as he scoffs. You slide into a crouch, propping up your elbows on his knees for balance. "Give me your hands, Haruka-kun."

Your boyfriend hesitates for a short moment before releasing a breath. His hands are rough, but he flips them over obligingly and doesn't flinch when you curl your fingers around his wrists. "You've bruised your knuckles again," you tsk. "I'll go grab the first aid kit."

"W-wait." Haruka's entire face is charmingly pink, the gentle hue sweeping along his cheeks and up to the tips of his ears. "You don't… I mean, I don't need you to —"

"I know," you hum, tugging his hands up to brush a gentle kiss along his skin. "But I want to."

Haruka stays quiet as you fetch the first aid kit and get to work disinfecting the tiny cuts on his hands. You're used to the comfortable silence, basking in the familiarity of tending to his battle wounds in the back of the bakery where you first met.

You never would've guessed that part of your job duties at the bakery would include taking care of the new out-of-towner all those years ago, though it wasn't like he went along with it quietly. Your boss at the time was adamant that the Bofurin boys deserved all the freebies the bakery could afford to give, and she never minded when you'd pop off to the back alley to administer first aid.

Nirei was the one who knew you were handy with a medical kit, but it was Suo who eventually tricked their first year captain into coming to you. Haruka was a lot pricklier back then, shying away from casual human contact like everyone was out to get him but diving into fights like nobody's business.

Luckily for you, in spite of his speed and reflexes, Haruka definitely wasn't used to girls who were willing to literally sit on him to force him to stay still for first aid. After enough times shoving freshly baked bread into his hands and making him into your first aid practice dummy, he started to show up outside the bakery's back door on his own, often looking like a disgruntled street cat.

Little by little, you learned which breads he preferred and you begged Kotoha to teach you how to make omurice the way Haruka liked it. Little by little, he stopped flinching away from your touch and even let you lean against him when you needed a short break from work or studying, propping your head up against his shoulder and staying still enough that sometimes you'd fall asleep.

Little by little, the two of you fell in love.

Haruka doesn't say anything as you finish smoothing the tape holding his new wrappings together, but he flips his hands to hold onto you as you rise from your knees. You smile. "Do you wanna get dinner at Cafe Pothos? Kotoha-chan might make fun of you, though."

"She'll make fun of me no matter what," he grumbles. You snicker as he ducks his head. From this angle, you can only see the pale white eyelashes of his left side pressing against his skin as he takes a deep breath. "Don'tcha need to finish your shift? I'll be outside."

"Aw, are you worried about me?"

"Shaddup" Haruka huffs. "As if I care."

You grin as he rises to his full height, still steadily avoiding eye contact as you squeeze his hands. After all these years, it's cute how flustered he still gets when you tease him. "Haruka-kun? You can let me go now."

"…Can't."

"Oh?" you raise an eyebrow and tilt your head to catch his eye. He scowls. "If you just loosen your fingers—"

"Sh-shut up." You watch patiently as your boyfriend takes a deep breath. It's quiet in this back office, though a wall is shared with the employee locker room and you can hear a few of your coworkers laughing and chatting indistinctly. The smell of rising dough and freshly baked bread permeates the room, cut through with the sharp tang of antiseptic cream.

Haruka's ears are still red. You catch a glimpse of them through his black and white hair and squeeze his hands again. So cute. "Haruka," you say.

"…What?"

You rise up on tiptoes to kiss him, holding onto his hands for balance as you rock forward. Haruka predictably freezes before making a rough sound and kissing you back, letting you take the lead as you lean into him. His heartbeat jumps beneath your lips as you move to kiss at the soft spot below his jaw, earning another strangled noise that makes you smile into his skin.

It's warm. You think maybe your own ears are red enough to match his, but you don't give him a chance to notice, pressing another quick kiss to his lips and disentangling yourself. "I've gotta get back to work. I'll see you in a bit, 'kay?"

You leave him in the back office, knowing he'll find his way to the alleyway behind the bakery to wait for you, as always. Your coworkers don't mention how long you were missing, but you take over the mopping and cleaning duties as a thank you anyway.

Haruka doesn't take your hand when you meet him after your shift, but he walks close enough that your shoulders brush with every step. The gentle ringing of the wind chimes strung up below the shopping district sign follows the two of you on your walk towards home.

"What should we have for dinner, since you don't wanna endure Kotoha's teasing?" you ask, grinning lopsidedly when Haruka snorts in response. The street lamps cast a glow along his black and white hair, haloing him in a light gold that pales in comparison to his golden eye.

He glances sideways at you as you pause at a crosswalk. You catch a flash of gold and blue before he faces forward again. "You're comin' over?"

"Yes, or else you'll eat instant noodles again and die of malnutrition," you say. The two of you step into the street, though he steps slightly ahead of you to make sure it's clear. "Unless you don't want me to."

"Let's have curry."

"Did you get ingredients for curry, mister?" you ask, bumping your shoulder into his arm teasingly. "Or will we need to stop by a konbini again for emergency supplies?"

"That was just one time," Haruka grumbles, but he glances back at you fondly as you laugh. "And I went shopping earlier, brat."

He lets you hold onto his sleeve as you enter his studio apartment and stays steady as you toe your shoes off in the genkan. The place is vastly improved from the first time you stepped foot in it all those years ago, when you were delivering food for a sick Haruka.

Gone are the creaky hinges and peeling paint — the walls are smooth and clean, the cabinet doors are all securely attached, and there are actual curtains hanging over the balcony doors. He still sleeps on a futon, but he also got a low table and cushions for guests after you complained about eating on top of cardboard boxes, and he got a dresser to store his clothing after you took him shopping so he'd stop wandering around town always wearing his high school uniform.

Making dinner is always fun, with Haruka, because even though he's grown and learned a lot, you still get to tease him about his bulk stack of instant noodle packages and he still turns bright red when you lean over the table to offer him a spoonful from your plate.

He's more relaxed here, more willing to close the gap between you when you reach out to him. It used to worry you in the beginning — would you always be the one to make the first move? Did he actually like you, or was he just going along with your flirting because he didn't know any better?

Then he does something like swiping his thumb along your lips and sticking the digit in his mouth, laughing at your surprised gasp and gathering up the dishes before you can form a coherent thought. He asks about your day and listens as you tell him about the cute little kid who came into the shop asking for curry bread because "that's Sakura-taicho's favorite, and I wanna be like him when I grow up!"

You bask happily in the furious blush that paints his skin, grinning to yourself as he stammers and jerks his face away.

"Did you get new towels?" you ask, handing him a soapy plate to rinse off. Your boyfriend takes it, huffing an amused snort when you yawn widely. It's nearing your bedtime, and your sated appetite is making you even sleepier.

"Yeah," Haruka says, "since you were complainin' last time that mine're scratchy."

"Oh, nice," you say, rinsing the suds off your hands and moving to stand behind him. You shove your face into his shoulder blades before he can move, wrapping your arms around his middle as he tenses beneath you. It's been ages since he was an active fighter defending the town, but you can still feel the power and strength of his densely packed muscles twitching under your hold. "Mm, I'm sleepy…"

"Gwah! What are ya, an octopus?!" Haruka sets the clean plate on the drying rack and settles his hands on top of yours, but he doesn't move you. He could easily overpower you, though you're hugging him pretty firmly, pressing your entire body up against his as you take a deep breath. "The hell're you doin'?"

"Hugging you," you say. Haruka's fingers tighten around your wrists, but he still doesn't move you.

"I got that, genius."

"I'm just recharging before I have to head home," you mumble into his shirt. You're saving both of you from embarrassment, here, hugging him from behind like this, so really he should be grateful that you're so considerate of his feelings.

"It's late."

"I know," you whine, squeezing him just a little bit harder. "I don't wanna think about it."

"You have a toothbrush here."

Oh. "I don't have clothes here."

"You can borrow mine." Haruka stiffens even more as your hands clench the front of his shirt. "I-It's not like I'm tryna get you to stay over! It's just that it's late and you've gotta get up e-early tomorrow! I'm not some kinda pervert!"

You giggle into his back and nuzzle your forehead into the strong muscle there as he finally relaxes. "I'd be kinda upset if you didn't think about it a little bit, Haruka-kun. I am your girlfriend, after all."

Haruka lets out a huge sigh and moves to brace his hands on the counter. "You can take a bath first. Lemme go heat up the water."

"Are you trying to be a gentleman again?"

"Wuh — what're you talkin' about? I already told you I'm not a pervert!"

You laugh. "Last time you went to heat up the water for me, you didn't come out for a solid twenty minutes. I thought you passed out in there."

"That was just — I was just —!" Haruka hangs his head and you press your cheek against his back. You can feel his heartbeat pounding in double time. "I was tryin' to calm down."

"You don't have to, y'know," you say softly, patting at his firm chest with a sigh. "I wanna do it too."

Haruka chokes on his spit. Or at least, you think that's what happens, because he lapses into a coughing fit and gently pushes you towards the bathroom with a red face. He refuses to answer your concerned questions, only shoving a pair of shorts and a t-shirt into your arms before shutting the bathroom door on your amused face.

You shower and bathe on your own, humming a nonsensical tune as you lather up with his shampoo and body wash. It's a minor miracle and mostly a testament to your relationship that he has amenities at all, the clean smelling soaps clearly picked out with a thought towards your possible use of them. It makes your heart stutter in your chest when you notice that he's stocked your favorite brand of lotion on the counter and even left a clean face towel and headband for you to use while washing your face, as if he knew you'd need them eventually.

His clothes are a little too big on you, but you cinch the waistband of his shorts and hope for the best as you step out of the bathroom. Haruka is sitting stiffly at the low table, glaring down at his phone as the screen lights up with texts.

"Is everything okay?" you ask.

Haruka looks up and freezes. You pause in the act of adjusting his shirt on your shoulders, blinking at your boyfriend as he seems to go through five stages of something before he turns a bright cherry red and slams his eyes shut. You snort.

"You've seen me naked before, Haruka-kun."

"S-shaddup! T-that's different!"

You get on your knees in front of him and cup his face in your hands. Haruka doesn't flinch, but he cracks open one stormy blue eye like he's worried about what he might see. You roll your eyes at him. "Are you good? Why do you look so pissed at your phone?"

"Oh," Haruka blinks and glances sideways at the offending item. His face is warm in your hands. "The guys found out you're staying over."

"Are they giving you advice on how to get laid again?" you ask, giggling. "I love you, but please don't listen to Umemiya-san. I promise I don't get turned on by plant based pickup lines."

"I'm gonna shower!" Haruka stands abruptly and shuffles past you, but he pauses at the door. "You can read it, if ya want. The chat thread."

You raise an eyebrow and pick up his phone as he shuts the bathroom door behind him. A generic wallpaper greets you as you swipe it open, but you notice a star emoji next to your name in his message history, which makes you smile.

The chat thread with Haruka's former classmates is at the top, filling with more unread notifications as you watch. Scrolling through, you grin to yourself as the boys send teasing and shy stickers, interspersed with their own complaints of struggling to find partners for themselves and throwaway comments about "that lucky bastard Sakura" snagging "the cutest girl on Tonbu street".

"What're ya laughin' at?" You blink as Haruka crouches in front of you, a towel hanging around his neck. He's shirtless, and you watch with interest as a gentle pink flush deepens and spreads along his skin. "Quit starin'!"

"Y-you're the one who came out shirtless," you squeak, setting his phone aside and reaching out for him. Haruka chews on his lip but lets you touch him. "That's so unfair!"

You trail your hands down his bare sides and smile as he tries to suppress a shiver. Then you reach for his hands. "The first aid kit is here," Haruka says, stretching out to grab it from its shelf. The movement puts his hard muscles on full display, though you have a feeling it's unintentional. Regardless, you can't quite tear your eyes away from his chest and stomach, watching as the muscles of his abs flex when he returns to his crouch.

"You're so stupidly hot," you mutter, accepting the kit and snapping it open. "I can't believe you just walk around looking like this."

"H-huh?" Haruka's eyes widen in surprise. You grab his hands to keep him from running away, but he stays still as you reapply ointment and bandages to his knuckles.

"I know you find it hard to believe, since people used to give you shit about your looks, but you are…" you pause and glance up at him, taking in his smooth skin, his beautiful gray blue and golden eyes, his fluffy black and white hair, "stupidly hot."

Your boyfriend sighs and places a hand on your hip. You set the first aid kit aside and grin up at his pleasantly pink face. "Can I kiss you?"

"Yes, please."

Haruka kisses you slowly, tentatively. It's a little precarious, leaning up as he crouches in front of you, so you drag him to the futon and pull him over you, tugging him close by the ends of his towel. "You're so warm," he mutters, shifting his weight on his elbows and doing his best to keep from crushing you.

You sigh into the next kiss, wrapping your legs around his waist and pulling him down, huffing a laugh when he grunts and smacks his hand against the floor in surprise. "You're so far from me, how can you even tell?" you tease.

"You're always warm," Haruka grumbles. He noses along your cheek, smiling against the smooth skin there as you giggle. "And soft."

"Are you callin' me weak?" you ask, tilting your head to kiss him again. He breaks the kiss with a pant, nipping at the exposed skin of your collar as your shirt shifts. "Ah — hey!"

Haruka groans, one of his hands going down to grip at the soft give of your waist, holding you still as he grinds down into the cradle of your thighs. You moan as his hard length drags against you, wiggling your hips into the friction as something pulses in your core. "I should've given you another shirt."

"A-another shirt? What's wrong with t-this one?" You gasp as he rolls his hips again, arching into the touch as his free hand slips beneath your borrowed shirt to brush against the swell of your chest. You grab at his shoulders and back, dragging your blunt nails along his skin as you pant. "I l-like this shirt!"

"I like it too," he admits, hiding his face in the juncture of your neck and shoulder. His hand slides up to cup one of your tits, tugging and pinching as he sucks a bruise into your neck. "Y'look damn good in it."

You whine, throwing your head back as he shoves the shirt halfway up, snagging on the bottom of your breasts before he yanks it off of you entirely. He drapes himself back over you almost right away, kissing you breathless until you lick into his mouth to earn a strangled groan.

Haruka seems content to keep kissing you, and normally you wouldn't mind, but your borrowed shorts are getting uncomfortably damp and he keeps rolling his hips mindlessly and it's driving you a little insane.

"Haruka, touch me already," you plead. Your boyfriend pulls apart a few scant centimeters, two toned eyes scanning your face wildly until you grab one of his hands and shove it down your shorts. "O-oh, yes, please right there —!"

"Fuck," he bites out. "You're so wet."

"Haruka, you need to stretch me out," you say breathlessly, squirming as his fingers slide and press against the wetness along your lips. "Y-you're too big to go right away, you've gotta ngh —"

He dips one finger into your clenching pussy and freezes above you. It would be almost comical except for how much hotter it makes you, forcing you to buck into his hand as he pants. "S-stop squirmin' or I'll come in my fucking pants," Haruka grunts, forcing himself to begin fingering you in earnest.

He grits his teeth when you whine at another added finger, scissoring them immediately to hurry this up. He doesn't want to hurt you, but when you're laid out like this right in front of him, looking so pretty and perfect, it's taking everything he has not to rut into you like an animal.

"I'm ready, 'm ready," you breathe. You wrestle the two of you out of your bottoms and giggle when he sends one pair of shorts flying into the wall, but your attention is immediately drawn to the trail of black and white strands leading down to your boyfriend's cock. "Can I?"

"Fuck no," Haruka says, positioning himself between your legs again. "D'you want me to die?"

That makes you laugh. You reach out for him as he spreads your legs apart with rough fingers, his easy, overwhelming strength making something throb in your gut. Your sex life is actually pretty healthy, considering your respective jobs and commitments and Haruka's healing trauma. He's always been careful and attentive to your needs as you learned about desire together. It's not like you're deprived of it, or anything.

But when Haruka slowly pushes his way inside you, the muscles along his jaw ticking with restraint, the feeling of being filled by him makes something snap in your core and you cum with a breathless cry.

Haruka freezes immediately, hands slamming down on either side of your head as you clench and squeeze his cock unrelentingly. He barely manages a shallow thrust before he has to freeze again, hot breaths puffing on your face.

"Did you just…?"

"Uh huh."

"Does that always happen??"

"Your dick isn't magical, Haruka-kun," you giggle, looping your arms around his shoulders and wiggling your hips a little. "This isn't going to happen all the time, so don't get used to it."

"I wasn't sayin' that!"

Haruka pouts into your next kiss, but you lick into his mouth and manage to draw out a low groan and an aborted thrust. The ache in your gut hasn't lessened much. If anything, the pressure of his thick cock nestled inside you is making you tingle all over, and the way sweat starts to bead along his hairline makes you want to make him cry.

"You can move, please," you breathe, "you don't have to hold back."

"Don't wanna h-hurt you," Haruka grunts, pulling out slowly only to thrust back in with a force that makes your tits sway. He screws his two colored eyes shut, brows furrowing in concentration. "Fuck, you feel so good."

"You feel good, too," you sigh. "You can let go, I promise."

Haruka's next thrust makes you moan, and something in him seems to snap. He fucks you into the futon relentlessly, propping your ankles up on his shoulders, his dick hitting that spot inside that makes you see stars fuzzing along the edges of your vision. The angle presses your clit against his skin with every thrust, sending you quickly spiraling into another orgasm as you cry out his name.

"Hah, oh fuck I'm gonna —!"

Haruka groans a strangled garble of your name as he reaches his peak, thrusting into you deeply as his cock throbs and releases thick gobs of sticky cum inside you. He lets go of your legs immediately, pressing firmly into the muscles there to ease the strain of being stretched like that for so long, but he hides his face in your neck as the two of you catch your breath.

"Should I call in sick for work tomorrow?" you mutter absently, somewhat desperately grasping for some semblance of sanity. "I dunno if I'll be able to walk."

"Shit, did I hurt you?" Haruka asks, lifting his head and wincing at the pull of sweaty skin. He's glowing, bright and handsome above you, his hair damp with sweat. His two colored eyes are a little watery, his eyelashes sticking together in clumps with unshed tears from how hard he came. The sight makes something squirm in your gut.

You reach up to push his bangs out of his face and snicker as the strands stick up. "You didn't hurt me, you just fucked the strength out of my limbs. We'll need another shower."

Haruka blushes hotly, an impressive feat considering he's still solid and hard inside you. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"I'm not hurt," you promise. You cradle his face in your hands and he leans into the touch. His hips roll slowly against you and he bites on his bottom lip as you gasp. "Haruka?"

"Maybe you should call in sick for work tomorrow."

"Seriously?"

Haruka nods, still blushing hard. "I swear I'm not a pervert, but you…"

You gape at him. "Are you calling me a pervert?"

"N-no!" You don't give him a chance to continue, leaning up to kiss him. You're both smiling when you pull away. "Who knew doing this stuff would feel better than fighting?"

You laugh out loud at that and flop back into the futon. "Are you seriously comparing the two things? Why're you thinking about fighting right now?"

"Can't help it," Haruka says, shrugging. "I could die when you make me feel so good. And fighting's what got me the cutest girl on Tonbu street."

[sjyuns]

🗒️ 、 TYPES OF BOYFRIENDS WITH ENHYPEN!

enhypen ot7 x fem!reader warnings -

( heeseung ) as your loser bf

— don’t be fooled by his stunning visuals, lee heeseung is a loser. he is most probably the type of boyfriend who’ll buy those silly socks with his favourite ramyeon brand patterned on it, asking you to match with him. you can’t say no to him, but blaring red shin ramyeon socks are definitely not the best thing to wear out to meet your friends. you end up persuading him by saying that you’ll match with him when you’re alone and he agrees ( thank god )

the rest under the cut !

( jongseong ) as your embarrassing bf

— when i mean embarrassing, i mean endearingly embarrassing. the kind of boyfriend who will shout across a carpark that he loves you, along with the furious waves of his hands and if that doesn’t make your cheeks red enough, he’s asking ( shouting ) you why you’re not saying it back. he gives immense princess treatment and will bring a camera everywhere, asking you to take a picture every ten minutes. collects them and makes a collage for each date for keeps.

( jaeyun ) as your clueless bf

— sim jaeyun is so goddamn oblivious about anything going around around him it’s so adorable. and it makes him treasure every single surprise ten times more because of this trait. you could literally buy him a lego set and leave it out in the open and he probably won’t question a single thing. when you tell him gossip about a person you dislike, he’ll be like “yeah i hate her too, who is she again?” will get you mixed up with your own story

( sunghoon ) as your competitive bf

— coming from a sports background, how can sunghoon not make everything a competition ( it’s literally entwined in his bones ). imagine going to a restaurant to eat, he will bring it up if his food arrives before yours. even when you bid goodbye to him and tell him that you love him, he’ll definitely say something like “no, i love you more, i win,” when it was never a competition to even begin with. ( but he wins things for you during fair dates so you can’t complain )

( sunoo ) as your simp bf

— sunoo will brag about you anywhere he goes, if you are the topic of the conversation or even if you’re not, he’ll find a way to bring you up. he will stop anything to attend to your needs, and will do anything for you. you’re tired and need help drying your hair, he’ll do it, even if he complains about it “why can’t you do it yourself” he still ends up doing it for you ( god bless me i need sunoo in my life )

( jungwon ) as your possessive bf

— i haven’t really seen much about jungwon being a clingy boyfriend, but i am 1000% sure he is clingy and possessive. has an arm around you at all times, and will constantly compliment you on absolutely anything. most definitely will say “wear what you want, i can fight” and he will fight for you no matter what. is the type of boyfriend to tease you a lot, but can’t take it if someone else teases you.

( riki ) as your playful bf

— you and riki have the goofiest dates that are out of the world, forget watching a movie or going to the fair ( pft boring ) you’re probably having a water fight in your backyard at 2 in the morning, trying to make the weirdest yet tastiest food combinations, filming the weirdest tiktok challenges or seeing who can make the funniest capcut edits. will definitely throw you the worst pickup lines at random moments “hey girl, are you fever? because you make me weak”

© SJYUNS

[shadowdaddies]

I would love an Azriel x reader where they are friends and they have a conversation and Azriel’s scars come up. And he talks about how he hates them and always tried to hide his hands. Then the reader says something about how they find them sexy because all the textures and bumps would feel amazing in the bedroom. Then Az just flabbergasted because he never thought of it like that

Hi! Thank you for the request, lovely. Sorry this took me so long, I hope it is worth the wait.💜

Your Touch

Azriel x f!Reader

warnings: smut below the cut, oral f!receiving, allusions to past injury

Cool autumn wind blew gently across your face, blowing strands of your hair to tickle your cheeks as you stepped outside to the training ring. It was a quiet morning, too early for anyone else to be up, or so you thought. The sound of metal brushing stone drowned out the birds’ morning chirps, drawing you toward the source of the disruptive noise.

Azriel’s dark form contrasted against the light morning mist, the Shadowsinger’s large wings folded tightly behind him as he hunched over his treasured blade. Eyebrows furrowed with focus, Az sharply dragged Truth Teller along the whetstone with more force than usual. 

You were one of few who recognized the spymaster’s subtle tells, who knew when something was bothering him. The way he gripped his blade, scarred hands flexing with each purposeful stroke against the stone... With a flush you looked away just in time before hazel eyes flicked to you. 

It was a practiced dance, a rhythm that flowed in flawless agony each time you caught yourself staring at your best friend. That tug in your chest that pulled you to find him in moments like this also let you know when he could feel you - your eyes on him, your presence - but you would not let him feel your longing.

He was the most thoughtful, loyal male you had ever known, and nothing was worth risking losing his place in your life. So you looked away, time after time, in hopes of keeping him around in any way possible.

“You’re up early,” his warm voice rumbled, snapping you from your spiraling thoughts. Forcing your gaze to his, you thanked the Mother for the cool breeze disguising the blush on your cheeks. You smiled, watching the gold in his eyes shimmer as he offered a small smile back.

“I could say the same to you,” you countered, willing courage into your bones and urging them forward to find your seat next to Azriel on the bench. His wrist flicked blade against stone once more, sparks flying as he huffed a tense breath. “Please be careful, Az,” you murmured, resisting the urge to reach out and touch him. “You’ll cut your hand,” you added, nodding to his other hand which held the whetstone.

A short, humorless laugh escaped him, no hesitation in his reply. “As if they could look any worse.”

You both grew immediately still, hearts pounding now louder than the birds in the trees, Azriel’s words hanging in the air like a dark cloud. You tracked how his throat rolled, another tell of nerves, of what he’d admitted.

“Azriel,” you whispered, taking the opportunity of his pause to reach for his arm as you looked into his eyes. You could see the emotions warring within them, the deep tortures of his past swirling, same as those thoughts eddied into darkness itself. “Your hands are beautiful.”

His eyes shuttered at your words, body tensing but not moving away from your reassuring touch. “Do not feel pity for me,” Az gritted out, his chest rising dramatically with unreadable emotion. “I know the hideous scars I have bared my entire life. Do not pretend they’re beautiful when I know they’re not.”

Something sparked inside of you at his words, as if the Mother herself propelled you to take his hands more firmly in yours. The intensity in your gaze drew Azriel from his stupor, his lips slightly parting as he looked at you in wonder.

“I do not ‘pretend’ anything about you is beautiful, Azriel. I know you are. And your hands...” You paused, allowing your gaze to drift to where you held him, his palms laid gently against your fingers. You stroked the skin there, the grooves and ridges surprisingly soft against your own. Earlier thoughts of those hands, how they might touch you, incensed your mind, leading your thoughts astray - for only a moment.

Azriel cleared his throat, drawing your eyes back to his own where instead of those earlier emotions, now lay a hint of mischief. “My hands...?” he questioned, brows raised in intrigue. 

No weather could disguise the burning of your cheeks now, no birds to drown out the nervous laughter that escaped you. “I, um... I think they are very nice,” you managed, dropping his hands and quickly shifting slightly away.

“They’re nice?” Azriel pressed, his curiosity only growing from your statement.

Breathless, you continued, something in your gut giving you the bravery to finally share a small part of what you felt for Azriel with him. “Yes, they’re... they would feel nice.” Panicked gaze finding his, you amended, “I mean, they do feel nice. Just now, when I held them.”

Azriel was now smiling down at you with an amused grin. “No, you said they would feel nice... What does that mean?” 

Fumbling over words, none came to you. Feeling like a rabbit caught in a snare, you prepared to run when those hands found yours. Azriel pulled you close, holding you in place more surely than gravity as one scarred finger ever so lightly traced your cheek. 

“Tell me where they would feel good,” he purred, voice low and commanding as you leaned into his touch.

“Everywhere,” you breathed. 

Instantly, Azriel’s hands were everywhere, grabbing any part of you he could as the two of you frantically stripped each other of your leathers. Laying you down against the training mat, Az’s black hair fell around his face as he grinned and lowered his lips to yours. Soft but precise, he knew exactly what he was doing as your body became aflame beneath his.

Lips and hands trailed down your body, leaving reminders of your pleasure in their path before he paused above your pussy, so warm against the cool autumn air. “I want to hear how good this feels,” Az murmured, giving no explanation before his finger barely grazed your clit, sliding down to your core. 

You had never felt more vindicated than in that moment, when reality proved better than fiction. Azriel’s warm breath fanned over your heat as he watched your reaction to his touch, finger slowly teasing inside of you before he added another. 

Your mewls and gasps echoed through the open air along with his name, giving Azriel satisfaction as his wrist flicked and curled his fingers, working you as expertly as his blade. The moment his lips touched your clit, you were gone. Back arched off the mat, you felt the cool breeze against your sweaty, writhing body. 

Azriel continued working you through your high, pulling his hand from your cunt to hold it in the light for the both of you to see. Studying the glistening coat of your slick on his fingers, Azriel hummed. “That is beautiful,” he murmured, before turning to lock eyes with you while he licked his digits clean, openly groaning at the taste.

Smirking up at him, you lunged to pull Az back towards you, eager to have your hands on him now, but the shadowsinger held your wrists, stepping back with a ‘tsk.’ 

“We’ll have time for that later,” he winked, tossing you your clothes. “Training starts in two minutes.”

Jaw slack, you prepared to argue with him when you heard the doors open, Nesta and Cassian’s voices echoing as you scrambled to get into your leathers before they could see. 

“Gods, it reeks of sex in here,” Nesta groaned, silvery eyes scanning until they landed  between you and Azriel. A brief smirk graced her lips before she muttered something that sounded like “finally,” smacking a chuckling Cassian on the shoulder and settling in on the other side of the training area. 

You looked to where Azriel stood in the spot where he’d just worshipped your body, gaze not shying away in the slightest from his satisfied smirk as you calculated the time until training was over.

[skelly-words]

Pt 2. of Bring Your Tentacle to Work Day

Okay, here you go… same tags as before + some girl-on-girl

Part 3

NSFW, no minors 18+, no children, go away

You don't expect this, your coworker's shyness quickly melts away. Replaced by curiosity as she watches cum drip out of you, obscenely splattering on the floor and dribbling down your legs in thin blue ribbons.

"Where do I get one of those?" She points a shaky finger at your cunt, at the thin tentacle that takes forever to slide out of you.

A low whine leaves your throat as your pussy squeezes around the suckers. they are dragged along your sensitive insides until you're left completely empty. Satisfied with itself, the tentacle begins to wind comfortably around your hip and thigh.

You turn around, avoiding her sparkling eyes as they greedily take you in.

"Um, i-it's work issued. For productivity," you say softly, still looking at the floor. Her shoes shuffle towards you to make the tight stall seem even smaller.

She softly strokes your cheek, trailing a less innocent hand under your skirt to feel at the monster wrapped around your thigh.

"Can you use it on me?" You can feel her hot breath against your face as she leans closer. Her touches are so gentle, waiting for you to guide her, teach her.

You look up at her between damp lashes, her pretty blushing lips are pouting until you say, yes, and start to kiss her. It quickly turns to a messy makeout as your hands crawl up her skirt. She moans into your mouth as her black panties come down around her stilettos.

You can feel how wet her pussy is as she grinds against your thigh, leaving stickiness glossing your skin. The tentacle smells her arousal and loosens on your thigh, shifting and readjusting to bump her clit better.

She pulls away from your lips with a pop as the blue appendage skims up the curve of her ass. She looks at you, a lewd look of excitement flashing across her features as you hear the tentacle pop into her butt. She pants, heavier and quicker than before and clings to your hips for support.

"What? Is it too much?" You tease.

Her hands tighten on you as the thing starts to figure out how to make her squirm. She hides her soft noises in your neck with her drool pooling in the dips of your collar bones. You begin to undo her blouse. The black buttons come undone, one after the other.

She can't let you go, so the silk hangs around her elbows. Her cute little moans and the slick sound of the tentacle filling her up are making your pussy start to throb again.

She gets too loud as you play with her nipples. Your cool touch is torture on the brown buds, stiffening as you roll them back and forth between your fingers. Her perky tits get pinker as you pinch at them and her moans pitch higher. You can feel yourself getting warmer too, abandoning one of her breasts to roll a palm against your cunny.

She's on her knees as soon as your hand drops, pushing your arm and panties aside to nose at your clit. Now you're the one being too loud, whimpering into your clean hand as she shoves her tongue into you.

"I'll cum soon-," she gasps against you, cut off as you try to catch up, hand tangled in her hair to press her closer. She looks up at you, eyes going in and out of focus. The brown fabric of her skirt is bunched around her waist. You can't see the tentacle except for the bulge in her tummy as it fills her up. Two fingers begin to stretch you open. You're so easy to push into, so she forces them as deep as she can reach. She knows what to do when your breath comes faster, latching her perfect lips around your clit as she milks your g-spot.

"Please." It almost hurts, but you're so close to orgasm that you can't seem to care. "I can't squirt again."

Her nods tug at your clit and her fingers are insistent. The digits fuck your pussy into a creamy mess. A third slipping into you makes your thighs start to shake. You cry out as you cum, gushing down her lips and chin as she sucks you through it.

A single tear traces down her cheek, falling into the crease of your thigh. "It's not letting me cum." She leans back to show you her twitching cunt. The tentacle has stilled in her stuffed pussy, leaving her needy and begging.

"That's because it's mine, baby. You'd need to get your own for it to do that." You laugh softly and start to pull your pet out of her. A parting kiss on her puffy lips leaves your mouth wet from her juices.

You straighten your clothes and clean up before leaving the bathroom, fixing any smudged makeup as you hear her desperately trying to cum in the back stall.

Those who asked to be tagged- @mishaglass @gummie-soup + the anon ask

I saw someone comment about eggs on the last part and it kinda had me thinking... I have like no time to write anymore but drop me some inspiration anyway

[r3starttt]

KISS ME

PAIRING: Jackson! ellie x reader

CW: request. outbreak | tlou universe.

SUMMARY: Ellie takes care of you after patrol.

DON'T BUY TLOU | PALESTINE MP PALESTINE LINKS | DAILY CLICK

TAGLIST | - ellie taglist: @ilovetaylorrr @imdrowningindispair @rkivedpages

The night sky stretches above you, a deep canvas of blue-black, with only a few stubborn stars daring to puncture its vastness. The moon, however, shone with an almost ethereal glow, casting a silvery light that softened the edges of the night. It illuminated your path home. Yet, its light did little to ease the weariness clinging to your body. Every muscle ached, each movement sending a fresh wave of pain through your tired limbs.

The ground beneath your feet felt distant, as if you were walking on shattered glass, each step a jagged reminder of the day’s relentless toll. It felt as though the very bones in your feet might shatter with the weight of the exhaustion that clung to you, heavy and unyielding.

From the moment you left the safety of yours and Ellie's shared walls, it was a relentless march through the wilderness, every mile weighing down on you like a stone.

The hours went by in a haze of heat and sweat, the sun’s unforgiving rays beating down on you until you felt as though your very essence was melting away. The memory of that heat still lingered, a phantom pain that sapped what little strength you had left.

Your legs had carried you far beyond what should have been your limit. Every patrol was a test, pushing you to the edge, but it was always the final stretch—the steps that brought you back home—that hurt the most. The pain of a long day wasn’t truly felt until you stood on the threshold of safety, when the body, sensing the nearness of rest, began to unravel, finally allowed to release.

The night was quiet, the crickets were quieter tonight, their usual chorus subdued, as if they, too, were tired. Instead, the usual symphony had been replaced by the distant air, a murmur of voices- the sound of the town coming alive in the evening.

People greeted the returning patrols, their voices carrying a mix of relief and fatigue, like echoes of a world that still held onto some semblance of normalcy. Your own group had been particularly weary tonight, the day’s struggles etched into the lines of their faces as they shared tired smiles and half-hearted jokes. Last voices you heard were tinged with exhaustion, drifted to you, words that blended together in a chorus of shared fatigue.

But the sounds of the night could not drown out the ghosts that clung to your mind—the groans and cries of the infected, the hollow echoes of what once were human beings. Their twisted forms a grim reminder of what awaited those who let their guard down.

A smear of dried blood clung to your cheek, the crimson stark against your sweat-streaked skin. Every inch of you was covered in the grime of the day, the sun having left its mark in the form of a relentless burn that sapped your energy and left you feeling hollowed out.

The bruises and cuts scattered across your body throbbed with a dull ache, a heavy weight that seemed to settle in your stomach, twisting it into tight knots. It felt like you’d been running on empty, forcing yourself through sheer willpower, and now that you were so close to rest, the pain was finally catching up to you.

Your fingers brushed against the rough wood of Ellie’s porch door, the familiar texture grounding you for just a moment before it was pulled open. The door swung inward with surprising ease, and there she was—Ellie. The first thing you saw was her eyes, green orbs filled with worry as they drank in the sight of you. She had been waiting, her anxiety palpable in the way her fingers fidgeted nervously, tangling together as if she could knit away her fear.

Without a word, she reached for you, guiding you inside with a gentle hand on your arm. You stumbled through the doorway, the weight of your body dragging you down, but before you could even think to shrug it off, Ellie was there, the moth tattoo peeking out from beneath her sleeve as she motioned for you to turn around. Your body moved on autopilot, dragging itself to obay her command, sluggishly.

Ellie had barely waited for you to move before she was easing the heavy backpack from your shoulders, her fingers deftly undoing the straps as if they were second nature. Too enveloped in the warmth, in the soft glow of the Christmas lights adorning the room and adding to the feeling of safety that she always manages to create around you- barely registering the weight of your backpack being lifted from your shoulders.

“Hey, you okay?” Her voice was soft, a quiet melody tinged with concern, though you could only manage a nod, your throat too tight to form words. The day had stolen your voice, leaving you with nothing but the heaviness in your chest. But Ellie’s voice wrapped around you like a blanket, soothing in its familiarity.

The space enlightened in a gentle, golden hue. It felt like a safe haven, a sanctuary where the world outside could not reach you.

You stumbled toward the couch, your hands fumbling with the laces of your boots. On your ears echoed the faint rustle of fabric as Ellie hung up your—her—jacket on the hook by the door, the simple act somehow grounding you even further.

“Let’s get you cleaned up,” she murmured, her gaze lifting to meet yours, a small smile playing at the corners of her lips. Despite the exhaustion pulling at your very soul, you found comfort in that smile, in the way she always knew how to take care of you when you couldn’t take care of yourself.

Yet the calm faded with a frustrated groan that escaped your lips as you encountered a stubborn knot, the simple task suddenly insurmountable in your current state. Ellie noticed immediately, her eyes softening with sympathy as she was already there, kneeling down in front of you, "Stop, you’re gonna make it worse,” she chided gently, her hands brushing yours aside with that lopsided smile you knew so well.

“Let me,” her whisper insisting once again, preventing you from even thinking on fighting her back. Ellie's tone low and husky, a sound that always sent a shiver down your spine. Her fingers worked deftly at the knot, untying it with ease, her touch careful and deliberate. As she did, she glanced up, her voice dropping to a softer, more husky tone, as if trying to coax a response out of you. “Did you hear what I said?”

You managed a half-hearted reply, more of a mumble than anything else. “Get me cleaned, yes.” her fingers finally loosening the stubborn knot, helping you out of your boots. It felt as if the weight of the day begin to lift, replaced by the comfort of knowing that you had her with you, in this very moment to finally provide you safeness.

She would never say it, but you could see the relief in her expression, the way her worry eased just a fraction realizing the same thing. After a long day, she had you there, safe.

"Come on," you groaned, tilting your head back as you sighed deeply. Inside your mind, you counted down from five before finally taking her hand and standing up.

The stiffness in your feet began to ease as you pressed your feet against the cold, hard concrete floor. Its coolness and firmness, in contrast to the warm flesh, added just enough pressure to make you feel better.

Ellie led you into the bathroom—it was only a few steps, really. Her hand was a steadying presence, her fingers resting gently on your opposite arm with each step you took. The small space was dimly lit, a single candle flickering and casting soft, dancing shadows on the walls. Ellie’s bathroom was simple but functional—a small tub, a sink, and a water system. A barrel of water sat near the ceiling, connected to a series of tubes that fed into the showerhead, sink, and toilet. It wasn’t much, but it worked, and in this world, that was everything.

The absence of her touch contrasted with the tender atmosphere. From your viewpoint, you could see her hair, messily tidied into a bun, with a few baby hairs and stray strands adorning her neck and the area behind her ears. You wanted to kiss them.

She knelt by the tub, her movements loud as she filled a bucket with water. The sound of the water splashing into the bucket was soothing, a gentle reminder that you were finally safe—finally home.

Ellie set the bucket down next to the tub and looked up at you, only then realizing you were already looking back. It was quiet, aside from the sound of the water, but everything felt blurry in her presence.

You shifted slightly, resting the back of your arms and elbows against the sink to keep your composure, making enough space for both of you and allowing her to stand up.

She reached out, her fingers brushing lightly against your cheek, wiping away the dried blood that clung stubbornly to your skin. "Arms up," she said with quiet determination, an unspoken promise that she wouldn’t let anything else be a struggle tonight.

You nodded, too tired to do much else, and let her help you out of your clothes. Each piece of fabric that left your body and fell to the floor felt like another layer of the day’s grime and exhaustion being peeled away. By the time you stood there, bare and vulnerable, you felt lighter—still weary, but no longer weighed down.

The tub was cold and stiff, making your bones ache. But it was all easily forgotten. Ellie dipped a sponge into the bucket and began to gently cleanse your skin. She worked in silence, her touch tender and methodical as she wiped away the dirt, blood, and sweat that clung to you. The water was cool against your overheated skin, soothing the burns left by the sun and the aches buried deep in your muscles. The sponge moved across your body with a kind of reverence, as if she were handling something precious. In that moment, you were—precious to her, and safe in her care.

When the sponge had done its work, Ellie carefully poured the dirty water over you, rinsing away the last remnants of the day and ensuring your hair was thoroughly wet. The water cascaded down your body, carrying away the grime and blood, leaving you feeling half-clean—both physically and emotionally.

You let out a soft sigh, feeling as though the water was rinsing away more than just dirt. It was washing away the tension, the fear, and the exhaustion, leaving you with nothing but the comfort of being home, of being with her.

Ellie reached for the soap, lathering it between her hands before gently running them over your skin. The smell of it—something mild and earthy, a scent she had traded for a few weeks back—filled the small bathroom. The soap felt comforting against your battered skin, and Ellie’s hands moved with the kind of care that came from knowing just how fragile you felt in that moment.

She repeated those same motions later, with the soap on your body, her fingers careful not to apply too much pressure whenever there was a cut, bruise, or anything that could cause pain.

“Let me know if it hurts,” Ellie murmured, her voice a low, comforting hum that resonated in your chest. You managed a weak nod, closing your eyes as you surrendered fully to her care. The world outside ceased to exist, reduced to the sound of water splashing against porcelain and the feeling of Ellie’s hands moving over your body in a slow, rhythmic dance.

Finally, she reached up and pulled the chain that controlled the flow of water from the barrel, letting a gentle stream of water fall over you from the showerhead. It wasn’t much—she had to be careful with how much water was used—but it was enough.

"Here," she whispered, planting a kiss on your forehead as she handed you a small towel. It was barely enough to properly dry your hair, but you always managed to make it work.

Too focused on the wet sounds in your ears coming from your hair being dried, you barely noticed the commotion Ellie made while searching for a proper towel for you. She swore she had a clean one left—or maybe she had just convinced herself earlier to avoid doing laundry today. But you didn't know that, so she had to hurry.

When she finally appeared in the doorway, you tilted your chin up, meeting her hands first and then the towel she held. "Come here," she murmured. In a matter of seconds, she had the towel wrapped around your shoulders and was guiding you out of the bathroom and, much to your relief, into the very desirable bed.

She knelt in front of you again, her hands busy with the towel, drying you off with the same care she’d shown throughout. As she worked, her eyes kept flicking up to meet yours, as if she needed to reassure herself that you were really safe, here.

"Can I?" she asked, her fingers lightly grazing the skin of your thighs. Her hazel eyes, dilated pupils, focused on all the bruises, all the wounds. And again, you didn't reply verbally but simply moved the towel aside, exposing yourself before her and allowing her to reach every inch of skin that needed the tenderness of her touch.

It took some pain, hisses, and a kiss here and there. The needle was probably something no human could ever get used to, nor the sensation of the thread between your skin. But you made it work; you had to.

Ellie was gentle, helping you into a clean set of clothes—something soft and warm that smelled faintly of her. You could barely keep your eyes open by this point, the weight of the day catching up with you now that you were finally clean and comfortable.

"Hey," Ellie called softly, taking your hand and gripping it just enough to reassure you. You turned your chin up, meeting her pretty eyes and that sheepish smile. "Let's go eat, come on."

As you did every morning, you forced yourself out of bed. Just as you had done with the couch when you first came in, you took a deep breath, counted to three, and stood up.

Dinner most nights was something she threw together while you were out on patrol. Today, the aroma of a hearty stew filled the room, mingling with the faint scent of herbs.

Usually you’d joke about her cooking, mocking her “chef talents”—she wasn't the best. But tonight, the words stuck in your throat, weighed down by exhaustion and the thought of simply touching the bed again, it looked so inviting.

You slid into your seat at the table, the day's exhaustion making your limbs heavy. Ellie chuckled, her usual dorky grin present but softened by concern. "It's not fancy, but—" she said, sliding a plate in front of you. "It's edible."

She watched as you took tentative bites, her hand resting on your back, offering silent encouragement. As usual, she didn’t touch her own food until she saw you eat.

The silence between you was comfortable, the warmth of the stew seeping into your bones, grounding you after the chaos of the day. Yet, as the meal progressed, your appetite remained low. You gave small glances at Ellie, considering your usual reluctance to eat her cooking.

"I know you’re tired, but you haven't had proper food since breakfast."

You knew that if you refused again, she’d let it slide, waiting until you were sound asleep before eating anything herself just to avoid an argument.

But after all she’d done to take care of you tonight, you couldn’t bring yourself to fight her on this. "I’ll wait with you. We can eat together.” With a quiet nod, you picked up your spoon again and took another bite.

Relief. Ellie could only stare at you with relief. The adrenaline of every time you went out on patrol never really fading until next day- for her, it wasn't only the thoughts of you getting hurt, but killed, taken by anyone and being hurt. She feared humans mostly.

And then, seeing you in front of her- yes, hurt, but nothing else- it was like all the anxiety finally made any sense. What would it be if any day you didn't come back, how could she ever manage to eat dinner herself, alone.

Having you in front of her, so close. Feeling the warmth of your skin under her hoodie- the fact that you're the one on her clothes, right next to her. The fact that she's having to force you to eat. It's always a relief, to know you're here, with her, that she has you.

It wasn't until her brain finally realized it was all good that she started to eat.

You always finished first. Only waiting for your stomach to feel full enough, with a gentle move, you pushed the plate away slightly to let her know you were done. Ellie always replied with a nod and a quick glance. Her hand on your thigh as she finished the last few bites of her meal.

The usual banter and teasing were absent, replaced by a quiet understanding—a silent agreement that tonight was about more than just food or sleep. It was about taking care of each other, about finding comfort in the little things. Like—no dishes to be washed tonight. That's future you both's problem.

“Let’s get you to bed,” she whispered, her voice a soothing balm to your tired mind.

You didn’t argue, letting her lead you to the small bed you shared. The sheets cool against your skin as you slipped under them, Ellie sliding in beside you. She pulled you close, her arms wrapping around you in a comfortable and tight enough embrace that felt like the safest place in the world. The steady rhythm of her heartbeat against your back lulled you.

You could feel the rhythm of her breathing against your neck. It all creating the most desirable sanctuary. And after hours that felt endless, you could close your eyes, focusing on the feeling of normalcy—the simple, precious moment of being held by someone who cares deeply, knowing that no matter what tomorrow brings, you'd wake up next to her, ready to face it together.

[runicarbiter02]

How would each CoD character react to you touching their cheek for the first time? (In a caressing way)

A/N: Oh my god, this is actually the cutest and I couldn't think of a better way to start off this blog, thank you for this, love! I hope you enjoy! ~ Hannah

ALEX KELLER

Oh, this man is absolutely melting the second your hand cups the side of his face.

The goofiest damn grin on his face, corners of his eyes crinkling, soft laugh rumbling in his chest.

"How ya doing, sweetheart? Hanging in there?" Man is always concerned with you and your well-being.

Absolutely is the type of person to just completely nuzzle into your touch, soft sigh of content leaving his lips.

You aren't getting your hand back any time soon. Try and pull away, and he will absolutely pull the kicked puppy look. You can't bring yourself to pull away anyway.

ALEJANDRO VARGAS

"Oh, is there something you need, mi vida?" This motherfucker and his sweet, smooth voice. Love him.

He will gently draw you in close with a hand on your waist, that signature cheeky grin on his lips. He'll gently take your hand in his and just press sweet kisses to your fingertips.

This will lead to him pulling you aside for a moment, peppering you in sweet kisses and showering you in the most endearing compliments in Spanish.

Expect to be walking away with a spring in your step and a flushed face.

GARY "ROACH" SANDERSON

At first, he will look wildly confused, his brows furrowing slightly and his head cocking to the side.

"What's up, hun? Everything okay?" He signs the term of endearment with so much passion every time, it is absolutely the sweetest and most heartwarming thing. Any term of endearment he uses is always signed with more passion than anything else.

Once you let him know you just wanted to love on him, this cheeky little shit is flirting with you like crazy.

"Oh, just wanted to love on me, huh? Well, there's more ways you could-" He cuts his signing off with his own laughter when you playfully shove his face away, and he follows after you, making obnoxious kissy noises.

He makes it up to you, though, with the most affectionate kisses. He's goofy and that reflects in how he shows you his love.

(Can you tell I love Roach? I love him very much.)

JOHNNY "SOAP" MACTAVISH

Johnny will take your other hand, place it on his other cheek, and will gently press your hands against his cheeks to squish his face.

He hums happily, reveling in your touch as his eyes shut and his lips curl into a smile.

"Always know what I need before I even do, mo chridhe." This man is so, so whipped for you. Looks at you with so much love and affection that you might as well melt before him.

Do expect this to end up with you wrapped up in his arms, snuggled close, the Scotsman whispering some of the stupidest jokes known to man to you in an effort to get you to laugh.

JOHN PRICE

I have like a very specific image in mind for this one!

He tends to work himself to the bone, getting lost and caught up in his work, and its very, very hard to get him out of it. It's one of those nights where you find him hunched over his desk, nose buried in his work.

You walk up behind him, gently resting your hand on his cheek and he pauses, tilting his head back to look up at you.

Despite the exhaustion, his expression softens, the tender smile on his face highlighting the crow's feet at the corners of his eyes.

"It's late, isn't it...? Mmm... Alright, dearest, I'll head to bed."

He gently grasps your wrist and tilts his head to press a fleeting kiss to your palm, and then to the pulse point on your wrist. It takes a bit more convincing before he's off to bed.

(I'm a bit biased, I'm a major John Price simp if you couldn't tell.)

KEEGAN RUSS

Look, I firmly believe our resident masked men are softies, but they're all different in terms of their softness.

This man is a softie with you, but good god, is he suave and flirty.

"Mmm, what's up, kid...? Just looking for an excuse to see my face, hm? All you had to do was ask." It should be illegal how much this man's voice sounds like a silky purr.

Soft kisses to your fingers, knuckles, and the back of your palm. Fleeting kisses that barely meet, brushing against your skin and leaving trails of goosebumps in their wake.

"Always so sweet for me, kid."

KÖNIG

(Apparently this man is a colonel? And from what I've seen, if he joined at 18, and if we take the average amount of time it takes to get to that rank... This man is likely in his early 40s. Dilf König? Dilf König.)

Masked man number two! Softie, but different from Keegan. This man is the shy sort of soft.

I imagine this would happen after he shows you his face for the first time. He grew up bullied for his appearance, among other things, and its made him rather insecure about his looks.

When you gently cup the side of his face after studying him for a moment, he heaves a shuddering sigh and averts his gaze shyly. But, the second you tell him how handsome he is, his face goes pink and he flushes shyly.

"Ah, meine Sonne und Sterne... You're going to make me melt." He then proceeds to kiss you softly on the forehead and tells you how much he loves you.

KYLE "GAZ" GARRICK

A pleasant flush works its way onto his cheeks and he gives you that beautiful smile full of sunshine.

"Missed you, lovely. You been taking good care of yourself?" Sweet, heartless man that he is, worrying about you even though he looks exhausted after his most recent mission.

Gently draws you into him and just hugs you tight, pressing his face into the crook of your neck and sighing happily. The second your cologne or perfume washes over him, all tension leaves him completely.

"Missed this. Missed you." Whispered words against your skin. He gently sways in place with you as you two embrace, his hand coming to rest on the back of your head. Fully cherishes the moment.

"How's about some takeout and we finally watch that show you've been talking about? The House of the Dragon, right? Hopefully its better than the last few seasons of Game of Thrones." You have a stellar date in as you binge the entirety of The House of the Dragon and make up for lost cuddling time.

(Gaz does NOT get enough love and it's criminal. Perfect boyfriend/husband material right here. I adore him. Also? Man is absolutely gorgeous? Best man.)

NIKOLAI

(Russian dilf? Yes please! Underrated man right here.)

Late nights in bed, curled up with him are always the sweetest. Soft whispered nothings as you both lay together, skin on skin, fully content in a post sex haze.

He shoots you a lazy grin as you cup his face, his hand gently rubbing up and down the expanse of your back. "What's on your mind, мое солнышко? Laying there looking so stunning..."

Soft, playful kisses are placed along your jaw, a cheeky smirk on his lips when you begin to protest, laughter in your voice.

"One more round wouldn't hurt... We can sleep in tomorrow morning, Золотце." You know damn well you're going to be exhausted in the morning as he takes the time to worship every inch of your skin.

RODOLFO "RUDY" PARRA

(Rudy, my darling, my beloved, my SWEET! This man is also criminally underrated even though he's PERFECT husband material. SHAME!)

He happily returns the favor as you rest your hand against his cheek, his hand cupping your cheek as he rests his forehead against yours.

"Long day, cariño? Mmm, I understand... I'll draw us a bath and we can relax." He takes your hand, pressing sweet kisses to your knuckles before he draws a bath for the both of you.

You both spend most of the evening in the tub, you resting against his back as he holds you close, featherlight kisses pressed to your skin as you both talk about your day.

The both of you take such good care of each other, and there's never less than 100% put into your relationship on both sides.

SIMON "GHOST" RILEY

Masked softie number 3: Tender and longing edition.

His night terrors don't often wake you; he's usually fairly good at hiding them. The first time he does wake you is during a particularly violent one that has him thrashing and crying out in his sleep.

He wakes not long after you do, sweating and panting, his voice hoarse from how much he had been crying out. Once you're sure he's fully conscious, you gently rest your hand against his cheek and guide him through a grounding routine: 5 things he sees, 4 people he knows, 3 foods he likes, 2 things he hates, and one thing he loves.

As he talks, you become his sole focus as the night terror fades into the back of his mind, the grounding method working wonders.

And when it comes to the one thing he loves, he shuts his eyes and presses further into your touch, a few tears streaking down his cheeks. One hand gently clutches your wrist while the other rests against yours, holding your hand against his cheek. He doesn't need to say it. You know.

You always, always know. And with a kiss to his forehead and your thumb stroking against his cheek, you let him know. I love you too.

[I'M SORRY IF ANY OF THE TRANSLATIONS ARE INCORRECT, I TRIED MY BEST TO GET THE PROPER ONES!]

Mi vida - My life; honey

Mo chridhe - My heart

Meine Sonne und Sterne - My sun and stars

мое солнышко - My sunshine

Золотце - Honey; darling

Cariño - Honey; dear

TAGLIST:

@floral-force

[ohbo-ohno]

I REALLY wanna see Johnny get mad! Like white hot angry at reader. Don’t know what/how it happened but Johnny’s gonna make all of reader’s poor holes suffer🥺

Maybe Simon gets surprised and turned on by his pup’s newfound aggressiveness

3.6k pwp soap drabble 4 u (cw for referenced burning building, angry sex, some light mutual degradation/objectification, and voyeurism since ghost watches)

You fume silently, face hot with rage while you and Soap walk side by side behind Ghost down the base hallways. There's a tension at the base of your neck that you just know is going to become a migraine if you don't get some medicine soon, and your bones ache from going too long without sleep.

Soap's somehow even stiffer beside you, the distance between you two small but intentional. Usually he's impossible to pry off of you, always brushing against you and looking for more physical contact, but since you landed he's kept at least half a foot between you two at all times.

Fine by you. You don't want him touching you right now anyway.

The silence is thick as Ghost leads you two to his room, his shoulders loose and relaxed.

He's got no reason to be tense, you suppose. He's not the one who had a massive disagreement on the field, who had to drag his squadmate back from a blazing fire and deal with his bitching instead of his thanks.

Just the memory of it makes you scowl.

Ghost leads the two of you into his room in rare silence, though it's only rare because usually you and Johnny would already be teasing or flirting at this point. But you don't bother now, not with your anger so fresh in your mind.

Ghost is the only one to get settled once Johnny closes the door behind you. You two stand on opposite sides of the doorframe, both too tense to do much but stew in your own righteous anger, and Ghost starts to get dressed down into something more comfortable.

He lets the two of you stay quiet until he's fully changed into a tank top and sweats, no boxers then sits on the bed with an overly loud sigh.

"You two even gonna look at each other?"

Your lip curls as you glance at Johnny from the corner of your eyes. "I have nothing to say to him."

"'S not what I asked."

Your cheek twitches and you bite your tongue, rolling a sharp canine over it. "Honestly, Simon, I don't even want to see him right now."

Johnny scoffs, loud in the otherwise quiet room, and nearly stomps to your side, leaning in front of you to try and force eye contact. "Oh, really? Ye can't even look at me, huh? Had no problem lookin' earlier, when you were draggin' me away from my goddamn mission."

You want to growl, you want to rake your nails down his face and scream about what a fool he is, what a jackass, and you want to make him remember.

Some of your ire must shine through in your expression, and Johnny mirrors it, eyes sparking as he straightens and stands diagonally from you, chest nearly brushing your shoulder.

"Dragging you away from your death, more like," you sneer.

"Wasn't your place," he bites back, moving forward enough that you can feel the heat of him even through all your layers. "You aren't my fuckin' CO and I'm not yours - wasn't any of your business how I chose to execute my orders."

"It is when you chose to do it in the most lethal way possible! Fuck, MacTavish, had you taken half a second and listened to me-"

"Oh, that's all it woulda taken? Just had to shut my pretty lips and listen to you, jump before you even say how high? Newsflash, lass, you don't get to make those decisions."

"And you do?"

"In this case? Yeah, you're fuckin' right I do. Price said drag the man out, alive, and that's what I was doing."

"You ran into a burning building!"

"Under orders from our CO!"

"You know damn well that's not what he meant, Sergeant, cut the shit. The orders were to bring him back alive, not kill yourself in the process!"

"That's the job, Sergeant. You do whatever it takes to fulfill your orders."

You're both panting as he snarls the words, nose to nose and eye to eye, teeth bared in rage that feels almost primal. His close brush with death, the way you'd had to tackle him to keep him from running after the damn target, leaves you raw and unsteady. Had you been any weaker, any less filled by adrenaline and panic and something deeply possessive, you know Soap would've thrown you off and gotten himself killed. You were hardly able to hold him down until the screaming stopped as it was.

You take as deep a breath as you can with your heart racing, and reach up to wrap the collar of Johnny's shirt tight in your fist, dragging him so close that your noses brush, hot breaths shared.

"You don't get to fucking leave me." You shoot a glance over Johnny's shoulder, to where Ghost sits comfortably against the headboard of your shared bed. "Leave us. I won't let you."

It's the last sentence that has him bristling, that ruins your chance of a settled argument.

The only person who lets Soap do anything is Ghost. The two of you listen to your Lieutenant with no questions, no doubt, no hesitations, but the same doesn't go for your fellow Sergeant. Since the 141 had formed, you and Soap have been fighting for dominance over one another, both of you determined to establish your control of the other like Ghost has for both of you.

The insinuation that you would let Soap do anything isn't something he'll let slide.

Hours later, fucked raw and sated, you can admit to yourself that the wording was slightly intentional. But now, with the fresh wound of Soap's close call with death still stinging in your subconscious, you only mean it as a way to push his anger to the level yours has been at for hours now.

"Let me?" He rumbles, muscles relaxing as he steps forward enough to press his chest to yours, head ducked low so all you can see is Johnny. "You don't let me do shit, lass. Couldn't stop me if you tried."

You can't help the way your lips quirk up into a humorless smile, your fist tightening in the fabric of his shirt. "Had a pretty easy time of it earlier, MacTavish. Had you pinned and writhing under me, like a bitch-"

Before you can finish your taunt, you find yourself pinned to the door, a mouth covering yours.

Johnny's teeth are sharp against your lips as he nips at you, leaving behind a sting and a throb. You dig your nails into his shoulders, raking them down his arms and rumbling in dissatisfaction when his clothes keep him from feeling anything.

You bite back as you push at the hem of his shirt, desperate to get your hands on him and make him hurt. You trace your fingers over his abs as you get his bottom lip between your teeth, pulling him down to your height and smirking at his glare.

You don't kiss so much as fight with lips instead of fists, there's no affection or softness between the two of you right now. You're nothing but your anger, but your desperation, and deep down your fear. You cling to Johnny with something verging on desperation, bite and scratch to make him feel even a bit of the pain you had at such a close call with death.

He leans almost his entire weight into yours to keep you pinned against the door, but you only have to shove at his shoulders a few times for him to get the hint and move backwards.

His lips never leave yours as you walk him back to the bed, his hands coming up to grip your thighs as he falls back and keeps you on top of him. You taste the slightest tang of iron as you shift your knees up next to his hips, squeezing his sides between your thighs and his tongue between your teeth.

"You gonna ride me?" He pants when you pull away for a breath of air, your hips working over the tent in his pants. "Think you're in charge, bonnie?"

You bare your teeth at him, grinding your core against the tent in his pants. “I’m not the one on my back, MacTavish.”

His smile is all teeth as he bucks his hips into yours, knocking you off balance so you’re forced to brace your hands on either side of his head. “I don’t need to be on top to keep you on a leash.”

It’s all too easy to hook your fingers in his throat mic - his collar. His pupils blow wide when you tug harshly enough to pull his head off the mattress, his hips following as he moans and grinds you down onto him with a bruising grip on your thighs.

“Down,” you smirk, leaning your weight back and forcing his hips to the bed, grinding your hips. “‘S my turn, Johnny. Gonna use you ‘til you’re wrung dry.”

His tongue darts out to wet his lips, then rests on his bottom lip instead of settling behind his teeth. You can’t resist the urge to lean down and lick over his lips, covering them in your own spit and groaning when he pulls you back into a proper kiss.

Despite your hand around his throat and your weight on top of his, you’re both equally in control as you strip the other. You can’t be bothered to wrestle his wrists to the bed, far preferring to let him paw your shirt and pants off while you tear the seams in his indecently tight shirt.

You only have the patience to get his pants to his knees, unwilling to help him kick them off for full mobility. Instead you grind yourself against his hard length, the soaked gusset of your underwear dragging wonderfully over both his cock and your clit.

You shift your hand on his neck so your palm is resting on his Adam’s apple, giving him just enough pressure to stay flattened to the bed.

He nearly growls when you push, the head of his cock getting caught in your panties and brushing the crease of your thigh. “Fuck, bonnie, get it on with.”

You blink down at him, cocking an unimpressed brow and shifting your hips so he slips between your folds, tucking your underwear to the side with your free hand. “You’re not in charge right now, MacTavish. I’m on top.”

“Only cause I’m lettin’ ya,” he pants, hips twitching as he tries to find your hole, tries to find a hole to sink into.

You lean down just far enough to bite the air in front of his nose, all feral rage and sexual frustration as you let yourself sit on his cock, holding him still beneath you. “You don’t let me do shit, I do whatever the fuck I want to. And right now, I want to ride you ‘til you stop fucking talking.”

You press your lips to his before he can bite back the response you see waiting on his tongue, letting your hips move in the way that feels best for you as you lick over his teeth.

Johnny’s always loved making out. When Ghost keeps him locked up, or he’s just not allowed to fuck you, he’ll happily spend hours with your lips glued together, dry humping each other and swapping spit. You can’t even count the number of times he’s come in his pants while thrusting against your hip or your side, driven over the edge by just a kiss.

You take advantage of that now, keeping one hand on his throat and the other circling the base of his throbbing cock so you can line yourself up above him. He’s far too distracted with your lips and tongue to remember he could tug you down on him at any moment, could flip the two of you with hardly any effort at all.

Despite the complete lack of prep, your body takes Johnny easily, the familiar stretch making you moan as you sink down onto him with one smooth movement. You blink open wet eyes just in time to see Johnny’s eyes nearly roll to the back of his head when your ass rests against him, his cock buried inside of you.

You don’t let yourself rest for long, though most days you love to just feel the weight of either of your boys inside of you. But that current of anger is still pulsing beneath your skin, and all the hot, sweat slick contact between you and Johnny only makes you feel more desperate.

Your pace is merciless, for both him and yourself. Your knees and thighs scream as you slam yourself to the base of Johnny’s cock, making sure you pull off nearly to the tip on every thrust. Without a hand around his throat, you’d have lost your balance on the first thrust.

Johnny’s pulse thunders against your fingers, so fast and so harsh that you swear you can ever see your fingertips twitching against his throat. His breaths are quick and erratic, and you can’t help but subconsciously match his breathing with your faces as close together as they are.

“So fucking good,” you moan, rolling your hips as you lift yourself off of him, dragging the head of his cock along your walls. Your voice cracks when he bucks his hips up, and you’re relieved that he’s already too blissed out to notice, lost in the tight vice of your cunt. 

“Yeah?” Johnny pants, tongue nearly lolling out of his mouth when you pull away fully. “Stuff you just right, yeah, lass?”

You bite your tongue against an agreement, some deep part of you that’s not quite drunk on pleasure yet unwilling to give Johnny that kindness. Instead you shift your weight, so that your hand is more cupping Johnny’s jaw and putting pressure on his head instead of his neck, letting you really push him down and get the proper leverage to fuck yourself on his cock. 

“Perfect fucking-” you shudder against the words, moan when he rubs just over your g-spot and repeating the same motion with your hips again and again. “Perfect fucking toy, so nice to ride.”

The sound Johnny makes is purely animalistic, torn between anger and desperation, something rough and low in his throat. You can feel the rumble of it through your hand and can’t help but moan in return, finally nearing your peak even as your legs continue to burn.

Neither of you speaks as you ride him, your head hanging low so you’re eye-level with his nipples and focused entirely on your own pleasure. The way your muscles scream at you only fills you with more need, more desperation, and the pain pushes you closer and closer to the edge. Your clit grinds just right over the rough patch of Soap’s pubic hair, soaking it in your juices and covering him in slick.

You reach your peak with gasping breaths, nearly going cross-eyed as you use Johnny entirely for your own pleasure, using him as nothing more than something to hold yourself up on and a toy to ride. Your muscles go completely lax as your pleasure overwhelms you, leaving you slumped against his muscular chest as you ride out the orgasm with small rolls of your hips.

Johnny’s still rock hard inside of you as you come down, his grip on your thighs tight enough to bruise. Your hand has slipped from underneath his collar to the mattress next to his face, and you don’t have the energy to push yourself up and away, to deny him like you’d intended.

Your lungs feel too small as you try to take deep gasping breaths, only managing a few before your lungs start hitching. Johnny’s chest rises and falls quickly beneath your head, his heart pounding beneath your ear.

You don’t have time to brace yourself before you’re flipped onto your stomach, face down on the mattress.

One moment you’re floating in post-orgasmic bliss, letting your body clench down on Johnny and milk him, the next moment you’re on your knees with your back forced into a deep arch, that same cock pounding into you like a machine.

Your groan is bone deep when you finally lift your head enough to breathe, eyes rolled heavenward as your body tries its best to adjust to the harsh treatment.

“Show you a fucking toy,” Johnny snarls from over your shoulder, his voice sounding distant beneath the blood rushing through your ears. “Think ye can just treat me like fucking nothing, get yerself off then take a fucking nap? Nah, yer gonna take what ye fucking deserve.”

The thickening of Johnny’s accent has you gushing around him, your sensitive channel clenching down so hard that you’re surprised he can pull out at all. 

Johnny’s hand wraps in your hair when you try to let your head fall forward again, yanking you back with enough strength to leave you yowling at the strain on your neck.

“Don’t fucking hide,” he hisses, landing a sharp slap on the meat of your ass. “Think ye can just shove yer head in the sand? Let me fuckin’ hear you, lass, sing f’r me.”

“Fu-uck you,” you manage to groan, syllables interrupted on every thrust, your voice cracking. “You’re not- fuck, Johnny, don’t have to listen to you.”

You can practically hear the way he gnashes his teeth over your shoulder, can perfectly envision the angry snarl on his face at your lack of submission.

“Ye will. Gonna teach ye a fuckin’ lesson about yer place.”

You try your best to rear up, whipping your head over your shoulder to glare as best you can despite the grip on your hair. “My place? Who the hell  do you think- oh fuck, fuck, Johnny, you can’t- goddamnit-”

“Can’t even get a goddamn word out.” Even from your terrible angle you can see that his smile is mean. “Think ye can be in charge when ye can’t even finish a sentence? Fuckin’ fool.”

You nearly shriek when he shoves your head down to the mattress, clawing fruitlessly at anything in front of you. You only freeze when you feel flesh give way underneath your nails, the hard muscles of a thick thigh under your palm.

You can just barely angle your head enough to glance up and see Simon looking down at you, but you can’t manage to see anything past his general shape with the way Soap is trying to shove you inside the mattress.

Ghost’s hand comes to rest on your head, and when you lean into him he pushes Johnny’s fingers off.

“Watch it, pup,” he rumbles, and Johnny’s hips stutter behind you. “You’re already in trouble. Do you really wanna make it worse?”

Your self-righteous smirk is hidden in the sheets, but you can’t fully muffle your laugh when Johnny’s whines over your shoulder. The sound quickly morphs into a snarl, and he buries his teeth into your shoulder as his hips start to work again, the sound of his balls slapping against your soaked cunt obscene.

Johnny wraps his arms beneath your torso, hooking his hands on your shoulders so he can tug you into every thrust, moving his face up to nose at your throat. You feel covered by him, consumed by him, as he chases his own pleasure.

You don’t quite manage to get off before he empties himself inside you, but there’s a deep satisfaction in your bones that still lets you melt into him.

Johnny’s all heat and power at your back as he goes weak against you, and a small shove to his shoulder from Ghost has both of you resting on your sides, spooning with his cock still buried inside of you.

Your breaths sync with his quickly, matching the inhales and exhales you can feel against your neck and the rise and fall of his chest against your back.

Your eyes flutter shut, relaxing into the bed and Johnny’s arms. You know that you’ll have to Talk later, about what he’d done and how you’d responded. But you know it’ll be an easier conversation after Ghost’s punishment, when all of your consciousness has eased a bit.

“There ya go,” you hear Ghost say, followed by a soft stroke over your head. “Exhausted yourselves, huh? Silly pups.”

You hum and Johnny rumbles behind you, burying his face more fully in your throat. You feel Ghost’s other hand pet over his mohawk, his thumb brushing your cheekbone.

“I guess you can nap.” Ghost sighs, like he’s doing you both a great favor. “You’ll both need all your energy for your punishment, anyway. Breakin’ damn near every rule in the book just cause you got a little worked up. What am I gonna do with the two of you?”

You don’t have the energy to respond, and the best Johnny manages is a small and plaintive whine. Ghost chuckles from above you, and you feel him lay in front of you, his arms wrapping around Johnny’s back and tugging you both to him.

“Yeah, yeah,  I know. Just relax now, you’re alright.”

It’s easy to drift off, even if the heat is near suffocating and the stretch of Johnny’s cock verges on the edge of too much. You’re loose-limbed and sated, and Johnny’s safe beside you. There’s little else you could ever want, ever need, and you can’t be much more than grateful as you fall asleep between your men.

[pinkydevil16]

Dark!Coriolanus Snow x Reader: gilded cage

18+ smut, possessiveness, toxic af, 

Snow was a manipulative bastard and yet he was so charming that now he sat in front of the capitol as President, something which terrified Y/n to her core as he held out his hand towards her. Much like her husband she wore all white, a beautifully crafted white dress with roses embellished all over the skirt identical to the one Coriolanus wore on his breast pocket. Stepping forward Y/n placed her bejewelled hand in his, their wedding bands touching as he wove his fingers between hers and stood. Kissing her hand as she bowed to her husband, the President of the capitol and all the districts, an honour bestowed upon him yet Y/n had no doubt this would happen some day, just not so quickly. Coriolanus turned to the audience, pulling Y/n close as he placed a kiss on her forehead, hearing the crowd cheer for their President and his Victor from district 12. His first victor, his first love and his little pet. 

Y/n could feel his hand on her back as many of the Capitols elite and powerful congratulated him, each one grinning ear to ear as he thanked them, tapping his fingers to signal Y/n to talk. Her hand coming out to introduce herself and thank them for voting for her husband, although she was sure it had been rigged in his favour. He was fond of cheating, he cheated so she could win her games a few years ago, cheated the system to keep her in the capitol and most certainly cheated to become President. Although she wasn't permitted to call it cheating when they argued about his manipulative nature, no that word made him angry and he'd shout that he only did what was necessary. That she'd be dead without him, some nobody from district 12 that even her parents would forget to mourn, at first his words had stung, had given him a chance to comfort her and apologise. Hold her in his hands whilst she cried that the world wasn't fair, let him whisper sweet things of how he was only saving her but over time his sweet words hurt more than the insults, they cut deeper. Reminded her how she'd been caught by the snake, locked away from her family and treated as though she was lucky for being slowly destroyed by Snow. 

"It is so wonderful to see the Capitol's darling doing so well, President Snow you did a beautiful job with this one." Y/n could feel her eye twitch, the comment angering her, they all spoke about her like she was an animal he'd tamed and made perform. Not that they were wrong, unfortunately she was an animal to them, a dirty, pitiful nobody who Snow had dusted off, put in pretty dresses and showed off to the rich. A doll dressed up for the masses, just like the victors after her, although she was in a gilded cage, locked away from all but her husband, they were in a similar condition. The victors village, another genius idea from her husband, so the Capitol could visit them, see how they coped after the games. See them reunite with their families and congratulate themselves on allowing those outside the capital to thrive under their watch. It disgusted Y/n, another element of control that Coriolanus enjoyed exploiting, it had only been 5 years since her games yet so much had changed. The arena was harsher, more cameras, more blood shed and now the reason to win, protect your family and give them everything they could ever want. Not like in her games or those before where you were sent back to your district to starve, to work yourself to the bone whilst the blood stained your hands. 

"I am so proud to be apart of the Capitol, it has been an honour to marry Coriolanus, i fell for him the moment i saw him as i stepped off that train. He was the first gentleman i'd ever truly met, he gave me the most beautiful rose and since then he had my heart." Y/n repeated the same story she'd told for the past 4 years, almost like a robot as the words came out, her cheeks hurting as she smiled and looked at Snow. His blue eyes staring down at her as he gave her an approving smile, loving how she followed the script he had for her, not allowing her to speak freely. He called her his dove but she felt like a mockingjay, repeating his words over and over. That word was also a big no, he despised the birds, claimed they were failures of the Capitol and she should never compare herself to such a disaster. 

"You have been married for almost 4 years now, shall we start preparing for babies soon?" One of his Academy 'friends' joked, whilst Y/n's blood ran cold she could almost feel the burning desire in Coriolanus as he laughed and joked back something Y/n couldn't hear over the pounding of her heart. She knew he wanted children, he'd always wanted to be President more and she'd played that against him, reminded him that he had to think of his career. Placated him as he stood in the mirror, her perfectly manicured hands wrapped around his middle as she pressed against his back. Goating his ego, he had work to do, he was going to be President and become the most powerful man in Panem, President Snow. He loved to hear those words come from her mouth, it stroked his ego to no end and would distract him from his desire to have her round his baby. Instead he would demand she bend the knee to her President, would exert as much power as he could over her, make her thank him for everything she had and everything she would ever be given, all thanks to him. But it was better than carrying his child, nurturing his child and watching that child grow up to be him. It didn't matter what influence she could have on the child, she could spend hours upon hours teaching them morals, teaching them to be good, she knew they'd be like him. Tigris had once told her of how Coryo was good, was misunderstood and told her tales of their childhood that made Y/n almost feel pity for Snow, almost. But each story still lead to where he was now, a possessive, controlling and paranoid man. 

In the first year of being victor she'd been so jumpy, hearing things, thinking she was being followed, driving herself into madness with fear. She'd had countless accidents with hurting people from being spooked, and thought she'd never recover from the games, that it was just in her head and she was losing it. Until he'd finally talked to her, confessed his feelings and told her he knew she felt the same, that he'd been there the whole time. That he'd been protecting her, had seen how she'd not been able to cope without him and suddenly all her fears rolled into own person, Coriolanus Snow who had been orchestrating her downfall since she left the arena. Suddenly her Mother and younger brother were being put in the new 'Victor Village' unveiled before the 11th hunger games, with Y/n and her family waving happily to the districts and a speech of how wonderful life was to be a victor. 

"You did so well my dove." Y/n looked up at Coriolanus as he placed a soft kiss on her forehead, his hands barely touching her arms as he did. Pulling away he smiled down at her before lightly grasping her chin, pulling her into a searing kiss which she reciprocated after a small, sharp grip to her arms. Coriolanus pulled back, grinning as he stepped away and turned to begin removing his suit jacket, hanging it carefully to stop it creasing.

"Can i see my family, please Coryo. It has been almost a year since i last saw my mother." Y/n could feel her voice getting weaker as she spoke, seeing him slouch slightly as he let out a sigh making her wring her hands in front of her before he abruptly turned. Y/n looked down at her hands as he approached, aware of his body towering over her, almost like she was a small child asking a parent for something. 

"Do you think you deserve such a reward? My sweet dove." Y/n let go of her hands and placed them behind her back, forcing herself to look up at him as he stood with his arms crossed. This was a test, much like all the others he'd presented to her over the years. She thought one day she'd have mastered how to answer but her palms still became clammy, her chest tightened and she felt dizzy the same as the first time he'd asked her such a simple question.

"I think i deserve whatever you give to me." Y/n could see him preen at the obvious submission, a cat like grin taking over his features as he moved fast, leaning down and hoisting her into his arms as Y/n yelped in surprise. 

"And if i think i deserve more for such a reward? What would you give to me, what would you do to see them?" His hands held her thighs in a deadly grip as he walked them through the apartment, her hands gripping his shoulders as her eyes darted around trying to gauge her surroundings. 

"Dove." His tone held a warning as her eyes dropped back to his as he slowed his pace and pressed her against a wall, her eyes moving to where their bed sat behind him, the sheets newly changed and perfectly arranged. Moving her eyes back to his as she tried to hide her fear, recalling what his old friend had said, she knew what he wanted. He'd always wanted it, and now nothing she said could be put inbetween. He was holding her family against her for a family of his own, although even if she hadn't asked, she'd still be in the same position. Being told to ask for it. 

"I don't know." Y/n stuttered out, aware of how hot she was becoming, the panic seeping into her bones at the thought of being a mother, she could see it in his eyes, feel it against her thigh as he looked at her like prey.

"That's okay my precious dove, i don't expect my beautiful wife to have to think about things. Why don't i just take what i deserve and you look pretty whilst i do?" Coriolanus pressed his face into her neck, pressing her against the wall with his body so his hands could push her dress up and around her waist. 

"You make those pretty noises for me and take me just as you normally do. But this time i'm going to fuck a baby into you just as i have wanted to do since i met you." Y/n let out a small yelp as she felt his fingers reach into her underwear, her mind dissociating as he whispered words she couldn't hear into her ear. 

"No! You don't get to do that!" Coriolanus shouted all of a sudden, pulling Y/n back to where she now laid against the bed, her dress gone and her husband angrily stood between her legs, hands gripping the bed til his fingers were white as he seethed.

"I'm sorry." Y/n forced out, it wasn't often he noticed her mind was elsewhere, too consumed by his pleasure and how her body responded. She allowed her body to relax, whilst her mind ran through fields, dove into lakes and occasionally put her back into the game except now she was fighting against Coriolanus. Raising a hand she lightly touched his face, guiding him down until she could kiss him, soothing his anger as she wrapped her legs around him. Guiding him to where he wanted to be, allowing him to enter her as he sighed at the loving embrace, pulling back to push his head into her beck. Placing small kissing against her hot skin, hands roaming along her as he moved against her. Y/n was given reprieve as she closed her eyes, imagining she was swimming in the lake with Coriolanus, a memory she fondly looked back on. Two friends swimming together, and in her memory she could remove the look in his eyes, the way his hands touched her and instead it was a beautiful memory of a time when she felt safe. 

"You are so beautiful, i knew i had to have you. Since the minute you were picked you were mine, you were my tribute, to save and nurture. To protect. And now you are going to repay me, with a beautiful child for us to love. Although i do fear i will never love our child as much as i love you. But everyone will know you are forever mine, no one will ever hurt you." Y/n placed a hand on his hair, running it through his curls as she let out a sigh, spurring her husband on as he raised his head.

"I cannot wait to see you round with my child." Y/n nodded, pulling him down to her lips as she raised her hips to meet his thrusts, knowing his own words were spurring him more than any action she could do. He was in control.

Y/n sat next to Snow, their children, grandchildren and great grandchildren all stood behind them as he unveiled the 75th hunger games, the 3rd Quarter Quells. And his last hope of ending the rebellion. But all Y/n hoped for, was that the Mockingjay would sing and she could be free at last.

[bucksangel]

Honeysuckle

pairing: alpha!steve x alpha!bucky, alpha!steve x artist!omega!reader x alpha!bucky (poly) - omegaverse!au pt. 3

word count: 4k

summary: “Honey,” Bucky sighs wistfully, falling into your embrace while Steve stands behind you with his arms around your waist and helping you not fall over under Bucky’s hulking frame. You don’t mind though, you’d happily die by being crushed under their weight if it meant you could touch them, and have them touch you. Caressing you, kissing you, adoring you the way only they can. And despite your earlier hesitation, you wouldn’t pass up the chance to brighten up your Alphas day for anything. And their grateful kisses and pleased rumbles let you know that you did just that.

or - your Alphas take such good care of you. their mere presence brightens up your day, so when your Alphas have a rough day you take it upon yourself to show them how good of an Omega you can be, that you can provide for them too.

warnings: 18+, mild suggestive thoughts, i apologize to ur dentists bc there’s so much fluff it might give you a toothache, omega is very shy and awkward but steve and bucky are fond and patient, fluff, kissing, tw for steve using 2-in-1 shampoo and conditioner, tiny bit of hurt/comfort, bucky needs some lovin’

a/n: this is dedicated to the loml @buckysbarne and @buckysprettybaby who also helped beta <3

milk and honey masterlist | main masterlist | tip jar

“Babe -“ Bucky sighs, his head hanging low and hands clenched into tight fists. “I’ll be okay.”

Steve huffs, walking up to his boyfriend and wrapping one arm around his Alphas waist, cupping his cheek with his other hand.

“It’s okay, she’ll understand,” Steve whispers softly, leaning forward and placing a delicate kiss on his mate’s forehead before pulling back and guiding Bucky to look up at him. He quickly dips his head to kiss Bucky’s lips.

“What if she doesn’t?” Bucky mumbles, shame and embarrassment flooding his body.

Why can’t he just be normal?

The day started horribly; Bucky woke up at around seven in the morning from a particularly harrowing nightmare. He hasn’t had one of those in a while, so it was very unwelcoming. This one, unlike other nightmares he’s had, was terrifying in a way he’d never felt.

He knows they’re gone, that Hydra and its agents have been obliterated, but that doesn’t mean Bucky doesn’t occasionally get anxious over the ‘what ifs’ of any potential harm Steve could go through should Hydra get him.

This ‘what if’ manifested in the form of you getting captured too. Even if he and Steve haven’t mated with you yet, they both know in their bones that you were crafted by any gods that exist to complete them. And the thought of you and Steve getting taken from him is far worse than anything Hydra could ever do to him.

Steve had to shake him awake, and he hadn’t been able to stop crying long enough to explain what had happened. After ten minutes of shaking and sobbing into his mate’s chest, he was finally able to articulate the horrifying images that now plague his mind, Steve had held him close, and he had kissed his cheeks and forehead and hairline, all while cooing words of affirmation and love.

The day only got worse from there. After the dream, it started with small things; he burned his hand while trying to make coffee - then spilled the coffee all over his favorite shirt. He ran out of his shampoo and had to use Steve’s - and, listen, Bucky is fully convinced that he survived Hydra because the universe wanted them together again, but Steve could definitely use some better shower products. The whole ‘two-in-one’ thing just doesn’t cut it for Bucky.

But then they had to meet up with their teammates for a briefing over a mission that Bucky is really not excited about, and found out the original one-day mission was going to be three days. Three whole days without you? Luckily Steve is coming with him, but then he thought about you being without both of them and started getting anxious. Now, even though you all haven’t been together for long, and they both know you can handle yourself, they detest the idea of leaving you for an extended period.

They’d managed to sneak in a few texts to you. Wishing you a good day at work, sending heart emojis when you send them a picture of a cute dog you saw while walking to the studio - Sam and Natasha spent a long time trying to get the men to understand modern language - and sending you pictures of them while they were too bored to listen to Tony talk.

But then they went to a coffee shop intending to grab their coffee and rush back to their apartment to get a few things so they could pick you up from work and take you to the new ice cream shop that opened up a few blocks from your studio. Dark clouds came rushing overhead while they were waiting for their drinks, and they decided to wait out the storm in a corner booth.

But people were staring, giving them - mainly Bucky - nervous glances, and a few people at the table next to them ate quicker than someone usually would and then placed a wad of cash on the table before rushing out.

Suddenly the idea of getting ice cream doesn’t sound so appealing.

Steve noticed because he’s so attuned to his mate that he knows Bucky is dejected, Bucky is hurt, he’s tired. Tired of people still judging him. Tired of being accused of things that he had no control over. They didn’t stay long, deciding that getting soaked while racing home was better than being in a place that’s now making Bucky feel unsafe.

Bucky’s been fighting with himself ever since they got home and changed out of their wet clothes. He wants to spend time with you more than anything, and you’ve been excited about this date ever since they told you, and Bucky will be damned if he doesn’t give you anything you want. But he really doesn’t think he can handle being in public right now.

His body is hurting with how bad he’s trying to force the negativity out of his mind enough so he can enjoy being with you, but it’s hard. And Steve telling him that you’ll understand that he can’t go out breaks him. His fists clench tighter.

Bucky wants to be normal for you. He wants to go out with his mates and not get worried about getting less-than-friendly looks at the three of you.

“I’m going to call her,” Steve says calmly, wrapping his arms around his boyfriend and pulling him in tight while Bucky’s body starts to shake with how badly he wants to cry. “I’ll call her and I’ll tell her that you’re not feeling well, but we’ll go to her studio tomorrow for lunch. Okay?”

Bucky takes a deep, shaky breath before nodding, trying his hardest to not blame himself when he imagines the look on your face as Steve tells you they have to cancel. Steve kisses his mate's forehead and then untangles himself so he can get his phone.

It doesn’t take long for you to answer, and Bucky can hear your chipper “Hi Stevie!” and suddenly he wants to cry harder. He also hears Steve telling you that Bucky isn’t feeling well and that they’ll come visit you tomorrow. You go quiet for a moment before asking Steve to pass the phone to your other Alpha. And when Bucky mumbles, “Hey, honey,” he knows you can hear that he’s holding back tears.

“Hi, Alpha,” Your sweet voice immediately fills him with warmth, images of your smile filling his head. “You’re not feeling well?”

“No,” Bucky clears his throat, trying to force himself to not feel bad about it. “I’m really sorry, honey. I promise we’ll make it up to you.”

You pause, and suddenly Bucky is worried that you’re mad. But before his mind can spiral into more negative thoughts, your voice - soft and shy - asks if he’s home. And when he tells you that he is, you simply say “good,” and then hang up.

Well, fuck. Bucky tries to convince himself that you’re not upset, but Steve can see that it’s not working well. And at his boyfriend's suggestion of a nap, he trudges upstairs, lying down in bed and wishing upon every star in the universe that you’ll forgive him.

____________

When you heard that Bucky wasn’t feeling well you immediately thought of the worst. Is he sick? Well, that doesn’t make sense, he’s a super soldier after all. Is he hurt? That��s a possibility, their jobs are tough.

Does he… not want to see you? As soon as that thought crosses your mind, you dismiss it. Bucky and Steve have shown over and over that they like you and want to be with you. The word ‘love’ flashes through your mind but you dismiss that as well. It’s too soon, right?

No matter what’s actually going on, you know you need to make him feel better. As soon as you hung up the phone you gathered everything you needed to make apple pies. But then you faltered, what if he doesn’t like apple pie? Well, you have things to make brownies, and you know both Alphas love them. So you took out everything needed to make brownies with the intention of bringing them over when they were done.

But then a thought popped up. Would they even want you in their house? There were a few times when you told them they could come inside your apartment while you finished getting ready for a date night, but they politely declined. You hadn’t thought much of it at the time, but now you’re worried you might be crossing a line.

You’ve just put the mixture in the oven when you decide that you’ll just drop them off and then leave. You don’t want to make them uncomfortable, especially since Bucky isn’t feeling well. While the brownies cook, you run to your bedroom to change into somewhat presentable clothes. You don’t bother getting all dressed up since you’re not going anywhere but your Alphas’ place, and even then you won’t be staying long.

By the time the dessert is done and put into a container, you’ve talked yourself in and out of going several times. Finally, after several minutes of having a mild freak-out, you gather the courage to gather your things and get in your car.

The entire drive has you a little on edge, though you know you have to do it. Not necessarily out of obligation, but because you want to make your Alpha’s happy. They’re always doing little things for you; buying you new plush blankets, getting you food on their way to visit your studio, Steve had even given you a sweater that both he and Bucky regularly wear - fully knowing and hoping you’ll use it for your nest.

Those men make you happier than anyone else ever could, you relish in their praise, your whole body lit up in flames whenever they get all sweet on you - which is all the time, neither man can resist kissing you, hugging you, telling you how you’re the sweetest Omega to ever exist.

They make you happy, and you will do everything you can to make them happy too. You want to be the perfect Omega for them, to show them that you can provide for them too, and that thought is what fuels you to park outside of their house and gather everything.

Your confidence wanes when you get to the front door, anxious again that the Alphas would be upset that you came over. You don’t even get a chance to think about leaving because the door opens wide, and Steve stands there with a smile.

“Honey,” He says, giving you that same longing gaze he always gives you. His eyes travel down to the container you’re holding, his smile growing wider while you cast your eyes down to the floor nervously. “What is that?”

A part of you wants to laugh, you know his heightened sense of smell can already figure it out. You don’t though, you merely shuffle on the porch nervously.

“W-Well I - um… I know Bucky isn’t feeling well, and I wanted to drop off some brownies for you guys.” Your eyes suddenly go wide, a small panicked noise leaving your lips. “Which I just now realized is probably not a good thing for Bucky to eat right now.”

You kind of want to smack your forehead. You were so focused on trying to be helpful that you didn’t even think of what would actually help Bucky feel better. Sensing your growing panic, Steve hums softly, reaching out and taking the dessert from your hands.

“That’s really sweet, honey,” Steve purrs, transferring the container to one hand so he can take your hand in his free one. “Thank you.”

An unexpected squeak leaves your lips, warmth filling your body as you squeeze Steve’s hand and smile up at him shyly.

“Y-You’re welcome, Stevie.” Your voice is soft, nearly indiscernible except for your Alpha with his advanced hearing. “Um, just… I guess you can text me later and tell me how they taste?” It’s phrased as an uncertain question because you don’t want to make him feel like he has to, but you desperately hope he does. You need their praise more than air.

“You’re not staying?”

That question has your head snapping up so you can look at him directly, your eyebrows furrowed in confusion as you take in his equally confused gaze.

“I - um. I guess I just thought you wouldn’t want me to. I mean, you never want to come in my house, so I just figured you wouldn’t want me in yours.” Your voice comes out shakier than you’d like, and the hope that he’d invite you in is creeping up. “Which is fine! You - you don’t have to, and I don’t want to make you guys uncomfortable, especially since Bucky isn’t feeling well.”

Steve sighs, his scent souring a little as though he’s disappointed, and now you’re anxious over possibly saying something wrong. But when he senses your growing panic, he tugs on your hand until you follow him inside. And immediately, the aroma of both Bucky and Steve’s scent calms you down.

“Of course we want you here, sweet Omega.” Steve smiles at you again, pulling you further into the house until you get to the kitchen not far from the entryway. He drops your hand so he can place the food on the counter. The Alpha quickly moves toward you, wrapping you in his arms and pulling you into his chest. Plush, soft lips land on the top of your head, and they linger there for a few moments.

As though he sensed your arrival, Bucky comes rushing into the kitchen with a wide smile.

“Omega,” He says, walking toward you and Steve with purpose so he can wrap around you too.

“Our sweet girl brought us some brownies since you aren’t feeling well.” You can hear the smile in Steve’s voice, and they both release their hold on you so you can turn around and face Bucky.

Bucky goes silent, and when you place your hands on his chest you can feel how his heart rate picks up. And after a few moments of simply staring into your eyes, his smile softens, his body relaxing.

“Oh, honey,” Bucky sighs wistfully, falling into your embrace while Steve stands behind you with his arms around your waist and helping you not fall over under Bucky’s hulking frame. You don’t mind though, you’d happily die by being crushed under their weight if it meant you could touch them, and have them touch you. Caressing you, kissing you, adoring you the way only they can. And despite your earlier hesitation, you wouldn’t pass up the chance to brighten up your Alphas’ day for anything. And their grateful kisses and pleased rumbles let you know that you did just that.

“Thank you,” Bucky mumbles into your neck as he presses soft and chaste kisses to the area. “You’re perfect.”

You can’t help the nervous chuckle that passes through your lips, nor can you stop yourself from shaking your head, immediately trying to deny it. While you love praise, specifically theirs, you don’t really feel like you deserve it sometimes. How can these two perfect Alpha’s possibly be interested in you? You’re not too sure why they like you, but you try not to think too hard about it. You don’t want to overthink everything and spiral into self-doubt, which would then lead you to sabotage the relationship, and you absolutely don’t want that.

“I-It’s nothing, really. I just want to make you feel better.” Your voice is small and shy, and you cast your eyes downward when Bucky pulls away from you to look at you with such intensity that it makes your entire body go warm. Your heartbeat speeds up when Steve steps back too and moves so he can stand beside Bucky and look at you directly.

“It’s not nothing, baby,” Steve sighs, reaching out and placing a large hand on the back of your neck and turning your head upwards so he can hold your gaze, and it’s absolutely impossible to suppress the shiver that runs down your spine. Oh, how you want to feel his hands on… other parts of your body.

“It’s thoughtful,” Bucky adds, lightly squeezing your hips. “We mean it; thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” You say softly, smiling at both of them and reaching out to place your hands on each Alpha’s chests. In a quick and bold move, you lean up on your toes to place a gentle kiss on Steve’s lips, then move over to Bucky.

Bucky, however, decides a single peck isn’t enough. Steve keeps his hand on the back of your neck and angles your head so it’s easier for Bucky to slide his tongue along your bottom lip and take advantage of your surprised squeak by slipping his tongue into your mouth. He swallows your little gasps and sighs, snaking his arms around your waist to pull your body flush against his.

The intensity of the kiss comes to a halt when Steve’s stomach rumbles. You and Bucky break apart with breathless chuckles, turning to look at Steve’s sheepish expression.

“Sorry,” He laughs, sliding his hand from your neck to the side of your face, and he smiles wider when you nuzzle and kiss his palm. “We haven’t eaten since this morning.”

“I can cook for you!” You say quickly, surprised with yourself by how fast you were to offer. You’re not the best cook, but depending on what food they have you’re pretty sure you whip up something presentable. Plus, your inner Omega is just aching to please them.

“You don’t need to do that, honey,” Bucky says, stepping back but keeping one hand on your back. “We can just order something.”

“Please?” You ask softly, smiling up at him and using the fact that he can never say no to your pout to your advantage. “I want to.”

Both men sigh, fully knowing that they could never deny you anything you want. So, they both nod, stepping aside so you can go to their fridge.

“You can just make something easy, it doesn’t matter to us.” Steve kisses your forehead, then smiles as he turns to look at Bucky while you go about finding something to cook. Pulling him in close, Steve quickly kisses Bucky’s lips and murmurs, “Told ya she’d understand.”

____________

“Told ya she’d understand.”

Steve chuckles when Bucky playfully shoves his elbow into his Alpha’s stomach. And Steve absolutely cannot stop himself from kissing Bucky again. And one more time. He can’t help it though, Bucky was feeling so awful earlier, and seeing his genuine smile and sparkling eyes fills him with happiness.

“Shut up, punk,” Bucky mumbles with a playful roll of his eyes, wiggling out of Steve’s hold so he can go sit at the kitchen island. Steve follows him, muttering “jerk” low under his breath as he sits next to Bucky.

The two men sit side by side, both with love-stricken gazes and twinkling eyes as they watch you flit around the kitchen happily, grabbing things here and there. They aren’t too sure what exactly you’re making, but it starts smelling good in no time. But the underlying scent of happiness coming from all three of you is what really strikes Bucky’s heart.

And in no time at all the food has been finished, and you make sure to pile their plates full of the food.

“I know spaghetti is boring, but I added a few spices so I hope you like it.” Your voice is soft and shy as you present them with their plates, and your rapidly beating heart showcases your nerves. You’re desperately hoping they like it - maybe praise you a bit for taking care of them.

“We’ll love it,” Steve says quickly, getting off the chair and walking up to you with a wide smile. “We’ll love anything you make us, honey.”

The squeak you let out makes both Alphas chuckle, giving you such soft gazes that makes you want to bare your neck to them in submission. With that, Steve and Bucky take their food and guide you to the couch in the living room, being careful as they sit down while Bucky pulls you into his lap.

They take time eating, occasionally feeding you despite your assurances that you already ate before you came over. They don’t care though, because they’ll be damned if they don’t dote on you for making them feel better.

And when the food has been eaten, Bucky gives you a glare when you offer to do dishes. “You’ve worked hard enough, honey,” Bucky tells you, wrapping his arms tighter around you to keep you in place.

It’s at that moment that Bucky realizes that this, the three of you under one roof, on one couch, is what home is for him. With you in his lap and Steve cuddled into his side, he knows that he’s the luckiest guy in the world, how can’t he be? He has his Alpha; the greatest love of his life, and you; the sweetest Omega to ever exist who’s teaching Bucky how to be happy in ways he never thought possible.

He doesn’t even realize he’s crying until you make a slightly distressed sound, your hands coming up to cup his cheek.

“Buck?” Steve coos, bringing up a hand so he can run his finger through his mate’s hair. “What’s wrong?”

Bucky sniffles, shaking his head as he wipes his eyes, then takes hold of one of your hands so he can kiss your knuckles. He smiles, so soft and sweet and innocent, smiling wider when Steve presses a kiss to his cheek.

“It’s stupid,” Bucky says with a quiet huff and shrugs. “I just… Today was shit, like, awful. And I’ve been happy all these years with Steve by my side, but other than right now, the only time I can remember feeling this happy was when I was finally reunited with him.”

Bucky briefly glances over at Steve, giving him that soft and adoring look he always gives him, then looks back at you and holds your gaze.

“You make me happy, Omega.”

Your eyes go wide, a soft gasp escaping your lips. Because, while you don’t know everything about what’s transpired in their lives and relationship, you know that it must be a pretty big deal for him to say this. And it fills you with a feeling dangerously close to love, but you can’t help it. Bucky’s been through the depths of hell and back, and he deserves everything good in the world. And you being able to give him some of that goodness just makes you want to cry.

“You-“ You cut yourself off, clearing your throat to suppress the waver in your voice. “You make me happy too. Both of you.”

“Good, Omega,” Steve purrs, reaching across Bucky to give you a tender kiss.

And when you break away from Steve, you turn to give Bucky a kiss as well, and Bucky? Well, Bucky is pretty sure (re: totally confident) that he loves you. He knows Steve does too, which makes everything easier. Knowing that they’re on the same page about their feelings for you gives him reassurance that maybe this could work out.

He wants to mate with you, he wants to be with you in every way possible. And when you pull away and smile at your Alphas with that sweet and tender way you always do, he thinks that maybe, just maybe, you want that too.

So who can really blame him when Bucky asks, “Will you mate with us?”

From next to him, Steve doesn’t visibly react, though his heartbeat speeding up and the flush creeping up on his face tells Bucky that he wants that too - they’ve also spoken about it in length, so he knows he’s not just speaking for himself.

All the two men can do now is wait for your answer with bated breaths. It comes only a half of a second later.

“Of course.”

m&h masterlist: @the-ginger-fairy-artist / @supernovatardis / @perdidosbucky-yyo / @wckedheart / @kandis-mom / @wandaneedstherapy / @bigcreatorwombatdreamer / @venusfly11 / @buckybarnesmetalarmswife775 / @the-photo-hoe / @matsumama / @fandoms-writings / @thornsnvultures / @sadboiabby / @lily-excal / @alright-i-guesss / @blondie-bluue / @loveforreading / @marvel-wifey-86 / @wheezy-stucky / @exposition-belongs-somewhere / @stuckysbike / @starkblackwolf / @caitlink26 / @dreaming-potato / @lethargicluv / @perfectlyboring / @monicachic13 / @akmenia / @shawnftjacob / @hc-kerr / @iamfandomwasted / @wizardofstories / @emerald-writes / @matchat3a  / @mollygetssherlockcoffee / @normalgirlnextdoor / @lolitsbuckybarnes / @rippedpiece / @biteofcherry

main taglist: @lilyalone / @crazyunsexycool / @goldylions / @yeehawbrothers / @buckyssweetheart

[weasleyreidstyles]

Serendipity

chapter fourteen

summary: it was only meant to be a purely transactional relationship. he would help her strengthen her abilities in return for her getting his friends out of his father's nasty path. he didn't mean to fall for her, but loving her was the easiest thing in his dark world.

no use of y/n, but your general nickname is Meadow. all characters are aged up to be over 18.

pairings: mattheo riddle x fem!ravenclaw reader; platonic!slytherins x fem!reader; platonic!golden trio x fem!reader

warning(s): slightly suggestive, canonical violence, heavy mentions of blood/injuries, angst with some fluff at the end

series masterlist; previous part; next part

Hermione Granger was coined the smartest witch of her age for many reasons. Although brave and courageous at heart, she was wise and ambitious to the very marrow of her bones. It's how she noticed your changing affections for Mattheo Riddle, perhaps even before you did.

It started no earlier than October, when you no longer complained about your desk partner in Ancient Runes; when you'd meet up with her after the tutor sessions with bright eyes and a genuine smile, which she had not seen since the weeks leading up to the Department of Mysteries battle last summer. She knew what Riddle was like, but seeing the spark reignite in your soul began to change her perspective of him. Maybe he was inherently good after all.

When Harry told her and Ron what he had discovered about the two of you, she wasn't even a little surprised, but she was surprised that Ginny, too, was not in the least bit affected by the revelation. She watched in forlorn silence as Harry singlehandedly cut you off from them, despite everything you had done for him; everything you'd sacrificed. She had spent many nights berating him in the common room with tears in her eyes.

You were her very first friend at Hogwarts. You'd met on platform nine and three quarters in your first year and exclaimed that you absolutely adored the celebrity on the cover of the magazine she happened to be browsing through. Hermione had thought you were a muggleborn like her and was disappointed when you said you weren't. But she was elated to hear that your mother was just like her. You spent the entire trainride chatting about muggle affairs and your favourite books, and had both gotten up to help Neville find his toad which is how you met Ron and Harry.

You were the person she turned to when Ron first took to being a horrid nuisance to her. You were the person she went to for help finding out about Nicholas Flemmel and the Philosopher's stone. You were the person who wrote double the amount of notes in second year, while she was petrified, just so that she could have knowledge of all the things she'd missed out on in her absence. You were the one to subject yourself to Bellatrix Lestrange's cruciatus curse so that someone could help Harry fight of half a dozen Death Eaters by the arch in the strange room in the Department of Mysteries.

You were her sister and her best friend.

And she felt completely undeserving of all those years of sisterhood as she watched you traipse around the castle like a ghost for days, after the argument with Ron transpired outside the Hospital Wing.

She had slapped him so hard when they'd gotten far enough away from the sounds of your heart wrenching sobs. The sound had echoed so loudly through each of their ears, and she did not care about how Ginny had gasped in shock horror at her action. Or the way Harry flinched as Ron cradled his reddening cheek. It was well and truly deserved.

She did not speak to Harry or Ron for two weeks. Now she only offered vague, one-worded answers to their incessant questions. They acted as if they had done nothing wrong. It infuriated her.

Hermione wanted to find you and apologise profusely. As did Ginny. But each time they got the nerve to find you, you were surrounded by a guard of snakes. The Slytherin boys were extremely protective of you and it seemed that Mattheo no longer cared for secrecy; openly showing that you were his for all the world to see, though subtly enough that only those with keen eyes saw. Hermione saw.

You looked happier with them than you had ever been with any of your old friends. Hermione often wondered if you were meant to find them; wondered if she, Ron and Harry had been holding you back from your true potential.

She admired you. She loved you. She had to make this right.

She cornered you after an Ancient Runes lesson. A ballsy move, considering Mattheo, Theo and Pansy formed a protective wall of imposing doom behind you, like fallen angels promising retribution. She steeled her gaze, looked between all three of them, shot the true intentions of why she was doing this to their minds – she knew they were digging through her thoughts by the pin pricks in the back of her head. But not from you, never from you, although she would never hate you if you did.

"What do you want, Granger?" It's Pansy who speaks up first, her voice dark and promising unspeakable terror, if Hermione so much as said one thing out of line. She watches as you reach for the hand that softly brushes against your own and grip it with all your might; Mattheo's hand.

"I wanted to speak to you." she says directly to you. "Alone, if possible."

She can see the way Mattheo is about to rebute this.

"If not that's completely fine." its rushed and laced with desperation and you can see the emotions clouding your ex-best friend's face. The guilt and the longing. You want to hear her out.

You squeeze Mattheo's hand once before letting go and speaking to them all, without opening your mouth.

I want to hear what she has to say. You guys go ahead, I'll find you later.

Pansy's look of uncertainty is remedied by your insistence that you'd be fine, and Theo is a little reluctant but follows behind her. Mattheo is a silent and imposing statue of simmering rage at your side. And by the uncomfortable look on Hermione's face, you know he's in her head.

If she comes back crying, believe me when I say that you will regret it Granger. And if this is a farce to satisfy Potter's cruelty, he will pay for it too.

"Harry doesn't know I'm here. Neither does Ron. Ginny should be outside, she wants to talk too. I-if that's alright?"

"It's fine." your voice is softer than she's ever heard. Like you're wholly unsure if you can trust her word. It's a foreign and devastating feeling. And she hates it.

Mattheo's hand brushes your's before he reaches up and squeezes your waist affectionately, departing after Theo and Pansy moments later.

The classroom is blissfully empty. Now it's just you and Hermione, alone. The silence is tense and awkward as you each wait for Ginny to walk through the door.

She arrives moments after Mattheo's departure, steps slow and hesitant. But as she sees the two of you she releases a heavy sigh of relief and launches herself at you.

She's hugging you so tightly. Squeezing and squeezing until your arms, which are limp at your sides, instinctively wrap around her frame. She's mumbling apologies into the neck of your blue and bronze lined robe, body racking with subtle sobs, that you mirror as you melt into her embrace. Hermione joins you both after a moment and the three of you sink to the floor, twin tears streaking down your faces, apologies and words of love and hope echoing off the walls of the classroom.

Eventually the hug ends and the three of you are sat in a small circle between the desks, voices low and quiet as you listen to what the other has to say, all the while, Mattheo is a welcome presence in your mind, offering infinite reassurances as your heart races in your chest.

Hermione tells you how Harry and Ron seem like totally different people now. How she slapped Ron and did not utter a singular word to Harry until he apologised to her.

"Look I'm sorry, alright." he said one evening in the common room as she was researching for an upcoming essay. "Please talk to me, Mione."

"I'm not the one you should be apologising to." she mutters, not taking her eye off the words on the page. Harry scoffs as he sits down. "If you're going to bad mouth my best friend then go and find Ron. I don't want to hear what you have to say."

He rolls his eyes before he stands up and walks away.

Ginny feels terrible. She hadn't known it was you and Mattheo in the corridor until she heard his distinct low and raspy voice, too late. She wasn't quick enough in deterring Harry away from the space and she regrets it immensely. And the look on your face after Ron had shouted at you plays repetitively on her mind at all hours of the day.

Guilt errodes at your souls and all three of you feel the weight of it like you're being held beneath the surface of a very deep lake.

When the two of them finish explaining themselves, you inhale harshly before letting out a calming breathe.

"I can't say that your actions didn't hurt. Because then I'd be lying." you say, voice clouded in emotion. "I have been outcasted by everyone I thought I could call a friend. Even my own housemates don't speak to me. You didn't do anything to stop that, which really hurts."

There's a lump in your throat that continues to strain with every word you utter, eyes burn with the onslaught of more salty tears.

"I know that you don't trust them. And you have every reason not to. I understand that. But they have been here for me, when the two of you weren't. They've shown me what it means to be surrounded by kindness and safety and I love them all equally, no matter what has been said and done in the past. Yes they work for you-know-who. But they had no choice. You know who their families are, hell we fought most of them in June. They've been forced into this and I just want to get them out."

Ginny reaches over to squeeze your hand. You let her.

"I-" she pauses and looks at Hermione, who reaches over for your other hand. "We want to help you. In any way we can. We'll help you appeal to Dumbledore-"

"He already refused my plea for help." you say with a grimace.

Hermione gapes. "B-but he always says that-"

"-Help will always be given at Hogwarts to those who ask." you say at the same time as she does. "Yes he said as much, and then followed with saying that they don't deserve to be helped."

"That's completely unfair." Ginny mutters. "If you were asking for anyone else he'd help in a heartbeat."

Hermione mumbles her agreement, face painted in complete disbelief at your revelation. She always believed that Dumbledore was a good and just man, but maybe she was wrong.

"We'll appeal to the Order." Ginny says. "Tonks' mum was in you-know-who's clutches when she went to the Order for help. And now she's effectively protected for life."

It's a good idea. It may work. But you have your doubts. The current members of the Order held their own prejudices, much like Voldemort's Death Eaters did.

"Tell your friends about the idea. Tell them that we'll try." Hermione says earnestly. "Nothing will ever justify our behaviour towards you, but let us make it right. Please. It's the least we can do for how badly we treated you."

What are they saying right now? Mattheo asks you, voice painted with curiousity.

They're going to help me keep you all safe.

And how, pray tell, will they achieve that? Mattheo sounds like he adamantly does not believe your words.

They have a way but I'm honestly not getting my hopes up until its more of a solid plan.

Okay, I trust you. How do you feel, love? His voice is a soft caress to all the corners of your mind. It's like he can feel the anxiety rolling off of you in waves.

I've got mixed feelings. I want to believe that they truely do mean what they're saying, but actions speak louder than words.

Even though you say that, Mattheo already knows that you'll forgive them. He may not agree with it because, in his opinion, they do not deserve your forgiveness, but he understands that you'd been akin to sisters for years before his family welcomed you into their circle with open arms. Of course you'd forgive them eventually; it doesn't mean that any of your found family would, though.

Hermione and Ginny watch as your eyes glaze over. It's obvious that you're talking mind to mind with Mattheo by the way your face heats with a blush and your face is alight with a soft, yet dazzling smile.

The three of you had once gossiped, in the cosy confines of the younger girl's bedroom, that Ginny's oldest twin brother was the perfect guy for you, but judging by your expression, they knew it then and there......Mattheo Riddle was your soulmate and you were completely and irrevocably in love with him.

An hour later, the three of you were sat under the shade of a willow tree that overlooked one of the beaches separating the Black Lake from the main courtyard.

It was as if there was never a blip in your friendship. Like old times. It felt normal. But there was an underlying feeling that everything was different at the same time. And the three of you had wordlessly accepted that fact.

"He needs to get rid of that stupid book." Hermione mutters dismally as you watch Harry and Ron stroll by, not sparing any of you a glance as they stare down at the battered Potions book in the former's hand.

"Still jealous that he's gotten better at potions than you? You're not top of the class anymore." You tease and she throws you a playful glare.

"Nevermind that. It's insidious." she says. "Just the other day he was asking if I'd heard of some kind of spell that was, quote on quote: 'for enemies'. It's completely ridiculous."

"I can't say that I disagree with you Mione." Ginny says grimly. "I overheard him telling Ron that he really wanted to test it out."

She shivers as if a blanket of cold was just thrust upon her. You're left bewildered. Harry seemed like a wholly different person and you didn't know what to make of it.

~∞~

A week later, you'd come to terms with the new state of your friendship with Hermione and Ginny; your Slytherin friends were weary at first when you told them of their plan to involve the Order, but it was Theo and Blaise who agreed tentatively to hear them out.

You tried to build a bridge between your two opposing groups, and it worked somewhat: Hermione had bonded well with Theo and Ginny found a kinship in Pansy's fierce spirit as well as Enzo's witty humour. Even Luna, who had accompanied Ginny one day to see you, had found solace in Blaise's quiet and calm nature.

Draco was the most alert by your insistence of them all speaking – he was weary that Hermione did not like nor trust him and she was uneasy around the boy who had called her unsavoury names for years. But even Hermione could see how worn down and tired Draco looked, and cut him some slack.

After another drooling day of school, you were lying in Mattheo's bed, clad in nothing but one of his dark tshirts as you lied against his chest, breathing in his alluring scent of cedar, musk and smoke. After completing your homework together, the two of you had nothing better to do than laze about, sharing languid kisses and slow, soft sex.

You were talking quietly to one another, sweet giggles and deep chuckles passing between you as you bathed in the serenity of each others' presence. Mattheo's hand was tracing circles against the back of your thighs, causing you to shift away with a breathy laugh.

"That tickles. Stop it." you say, mirth shining in your eyes as you playfully glare at him as his fingers dance across your soft, sensitive skin.

"Or what?" he challenges with a smirk that has you sitting up against his stomach, the ridges of his abs brushing sensually against your aching core.

Safe to say, your clothes ended up on the floor once more and the room was once again filled with your combined sensual moans and whines.

Later, you're cuddled against him again, tired and spent as you allow sleep to overtake you. But it never comes. Enzo and Ginny burst through the door in a panicked flurry.

"Ever heard of knocking, Berkshire?" Mattheo snaps, but at the look of alarm painting his friend's face, he sits up in rapt attention.

"What is it, Enzo?" he asks, using one hand to pull the duvet over your bodies to shield you from their averting gazes.

"It's Harry and- and Malfoy." Ginny says, breathlessly as if they'd run here. "They're dueling in one of the second floor bathrooms."

That statement has the two of you scrambling for your clothes as Enzo and Ginny leave to wait outside the door.

Uniforms shoved back on in a hurry, rumpled and creased from your earlier activities, the two of you follow behind the panicking pair as they lead you to Moaning Myrtle's floor. You hear the duel before you see it. Draco and Harry are throwing insults and curses back and forth in rapid fire blows. You would be mesmerised by the feeling of all the power that sings to you, if you weren't so worried and horror stricken at what you'd stumbled into.

Upon entering the scene you can't help but gape at the destruction. The porcelain sinks lining the marbled walls are cracked and broken, crumbling to the floor; pipes bursting with a never ending onslaught of spraying water that washes across the floor like tempered glass.

Your arrival distracts Draco momentarily as he turns towards the four of you, weariness clouding his light grey eyes. It's all the time he needs for Harry to surprise all of you with his menacing words as he casts the final spell, signifying the end of the harrowing duel.

"Sectum-sempra!" he shouts and Draco releases a pained yelp before falling to the floor as Ginny gasps in horror. Blood soaks the water around him, spreading out like slick oil against it as he writhes in pain. Slashes of blood saturate his white shirt, as if a knife had been hacked against his skin.

The room is a flurry of activity as Ginny starts shouting at Harry as Enzo and Mattheo pull out their wands defensively. But you pay them no mind, immediately going to Draco's side, trying your best to comfort him as you rip open his shirt to see the damage that Harry had caused.

His torso is caked in blood, gashes of skin torn open by the force of the spell. He's lying in a pool of it, the volume increasing with each passing second. Draco was dying. Slowly and painfully.

Moaning Myrtle appeared from the pipes screaming "MURDER IN THE BATHROOM!" repeatedly as you worked tirelessly, which was not helping the onslaught of overwhelming emotions that were bubbling to the surface.

It's okay. You're okay. You need to stay awake Draco. Please stay awake. You reassure him as you mumble a series of spells. He begins writhing more.

Episkey doesn't work.

Ferula fails to expell bandages large enough to cover the gaping holes in his chest.

Basic wound sealing spells are cast in vain.

You have tried everything you can think of. But nothing is working. Tears of frustration begin to slide down your cheeks.

"What's taking you so long?" Enzo shouts at you, drawing your attention away from Draco. Your breathing is panicked and uncertain and Mattheo tilts his head towards Enzo, a silent threat to watch his tone as he sees the slick flow of tears running down your face.

"I don't- nothing is working." you say breathelessly. "I don't know what to do."

Ginny looks horrified. As do Mattheo and Enzo. Harry only looks intrigued, no trace of guilt paints his face. You narrow your eyes at him.

"It's from that book, isn't it?" you accuse and he flinches at your icy tone. "The Half Blood Prince wouldn't be stupid enough to not know a counter curse. What. Is. It?"

He doesn't answer you fast enough for Mattheo's liking. Despite not understanding what you're talking about, he turns to the bespectacled boy with barely contained rage as he points his wand in the direction of the 'Chosen One'.

"Answer her, Potter!" he snarls and Harry snaps his head in Mattheo's direction, shooting him a glare until Ginny screams at him to answer you.

"Vulnera Sanentur." he says reluctantly, as if he was waiting to see how long the effects of the spell he cast would take place. As if he was waiting for Death to sink it's claws into Draco's soul.

Immediately you work on each of the gashes on Draco's torso and they begin to heal over for the most part, but he's still loosing too much blood.

"Someone needs to help me seal his wounds properly. I can't do it by myself." you say desperately and Enzo is immediately at your side, both of you mumbling the spell and casting your wands over the various wounds that litter Draco's pallid skin. Meanwhile Mattheo and Ginny stare at Harry as if he'd grown two heads, sharing a knowing look of understanding that Harry does not miss, nor does he like. He grits his teeth at his enemy and the girl he's infatuated by as Ginny, not so subtly, inches closer to Mattheo's side. Mattheo's eyes soften at the fear coating the younger girl's cerulean eyes.

No sooner than you'd entered the fray, Professor Snape comes gliding into the room, face livid, and pushes you and Enzo away from Draco's still writhing body. He performs the healing charm with practiced ease, going over each jagged cut, that you failed to heal, with graceful precision. If you weren't so overcome with emotion, you would've put the glaringly obvious pieces together.

The flow of blood eased rapidly and the wounds knotted together intricately as he repeated the spell, tenderly wiping away the blood that coated Draco's face. You knelt close to his side, reaching out to stroke his limp hand, which was alarmingly cold to the touch. You and Enzo were both covered in a mixture of blood and water which soaked through your uniforms, sticking to you like a second skin.

No sooner than he'd arrived, Professor Snape had Draco leaning against your side and was talking softly to the boy, who was barely conscious.

"You must go to the Hospital Wing. There may be some scarring, but if you take dittany immediately we might avoid even that. Come...."

With Enzo's help, he supported Draco across the bathroom, turning at the door to say in a voice of cold fury, "And you, Potter – You will wait here for me."

Harry, at least, had the gall to look ashamed.

You're still kneeling on the floor, staring at your blood soaked hands when Mattheo appears in front of you, taking your hands in his, paying no mind to the blood soaking through his trousers.

"You did good, darling." he says softly, so only you can hear, neither pay attention to how Ginny inches closer to you two, away from Harry's wide eyes. "So good."

"If Snape didn't turn up–" you don't want to finish the sentence, don't even want to think about what could've happened.

"If he didn't end up coming, you and Enzo would have worked tirelessly to seal Draco's wounds to the best of your abilities." he reassures you, having read the emotions as clear as day on your face. "Come on, let's go and get you cleaned up, yeah?"

You allow him to pull you to your feet and you're only reminded of his presence when Harry scoffs.

"Got something to say, Potter?" he snarls as his hand rests against the small of your back, at Harry who glares at Mattheo obstinately.

"He cursed Katie Bell. We all know it. He deserved what he had coming for him. I can't believe she willingly helped him after everything he's done to us. After everything you have done."

He spoke as if you were not standing right in front of him. You barely recognise the boy who you called your best friend for nearly six years. Harry had barely finished his sentence when Mattheo had left your side and launched at him, throwing punches and blows in Harry's face. That's not to say that Harry did not return the favour. Both boys' blood mingled with the softening pink whorls in the water. You and Ginny were screaming at them to stop; they did not acknowledge your pleas. The last time they fought like this was over a year ago.

The conduit around your neck crackles with energy and you fight the urge to break it. Instead you wrap a fist around it almost instinctively and draw out power that surges through the room, separating the two from eachother with little to no effort. They're both panting and glaring at eachother as they fight against the restraint of your power.

"That's enough." you say firmly, voice loud and commanding in the silence, wholly different to its usual cadence. Ginny is staring at you in awe, as Mattheo stares with pride. Harry looks at you with uncontainable fury and fear.

Because you're glowing.

There's a faint indigo aura surrounding your body that pulses with energy as you hold the two boys away from eachother. When Mattheo stops fighting you, you let go of the hold and watch as they slump in their spots on opposite sides of the room, both sporting matching wounds of split lips and bruised eyes.

"What the fuck are you?" Harry mumbles to himself, just as Snape returns to the bathroom. The professor looks at you in barely restrained approval before instructing you, Mattheo and Ginny out of the room. You each go without hesitation, leaving Harry at the mercy of a furious Snape.

~∞~

Parting ways with Ginny at the intersection between your two common rooms, Mattheo lets you guide him towards the Ravenclaw tower, which was closer to the dungeons that were on the opposite side of the castle to where you currently were.

He follows you silently, staring at you as if he can still see the faint glow of the indigo aura that surrounded you. He didn't think you could get any more ethereal. You prove him wrong every single day.

"Do you think Draco will be okay?" you ask quietly as you reach the polished bronze Knocker that conceals the entrance to your estranged common room.

"He's strong. I know he'll be okay." Mattheo reassures you, but he chooses not to tell you that Draco's fate will be far worse if he fails to fix the wardrobe that they'd been working on for the better part of half a year. All their fates would be far worse.

You breath out a relieved sigh in response, just in time for the Eagle to blink preternaturally at the two of you. You laugh softly as Mattheo shivers at the utter human-ness of the brass eagle.

'I can break. I can be clogged. I can be attacked. I can be given. I can be kept. I can be crushed, yet I can be whole at the same time. What am I?'

It only takes you a moment to figure out the riddle and Mattheo sees the exact second that the answer fills your head, even as his stays blank with confusion.

"A heart." You say and he swears that the eagle winks as the door swings open, paving way for the sea of eyes that stare at the two of you in horror.

You realise then that your still covered, practically head to toe, in Draco's blood, skirt and knee high white socks soaked through from the water, stained a light pink. Shaking yourself out of your haze, you grip Mattheo's hand and drag him towards the staircase leading to the girls' dormitories, ignoring the eyes that are burning holes into your skin as you retreat.

You wandlessly unlock the door that leads into your dorm room and watch as Mattheo stares around in awe.

"I've never been in here before." he says quietly and you turn to him with furrowed brows.

"Yes you have. Haven't you?"

It dawns on you then, that in all the months you'd known him, you had never consciously invited him into your bedroom. It had always been his common room; his dormitory or the Room of Requirement. Never your's.

"No. I haven't." he responds, laughing at the surprise that appears on your face as he casts his surveying eyes around your room. "It's very you."

"Thankyou?" you respond questioningly which causes him to laugh more, then wince as the movement of his laughter tugs at the cut that splits his lip.

Eyes full of concern you direct him to your bed and push him down by his broad shoulders to sit, ignoring the way his brows wiggle suggestively while you find a first aid kit to remedy his injuries.

He's still smirking when you return from the bathroom, green box in hand, which you place by his side as he guides you to stand between his parted thighs. The two of you bask in the content silence as you use a damp flannel to wipe away the dried blood that has begun to crust over his soft skin, mumbled apologies escaping your lips whenever he hisses if you accidentally catch one of his cuts with the fabric.

"You could easily wish these away with a bit of magic, you know. It's a thousand times faster." he says, hands caressing the backs of yours thighs as he looks up at you, but he makes no move to stop you or push you away.

"That feels uncaring." you mumble in response as you use a bit of rubbing alcohol against the cut on his lip. "Sorry." you say as he winces.

"It's alright, love." he mumbles, leaning his head into your stomach once you finished. "Potter can really throw a punch."

Your laughter comes out as a scoff. "Maybe. But you should've seen the state you left him in."

He smirks against the damp fabric of your shirt and you swat at his curly head when you practically feel his ego inflating.

"I did give him a good beating, didn't I?"

"You're so vexingly arrogant." you say with a soft laugh that has him leaning out of your stomach to stare at you again, a mischievous glint reflecting in his honey brown eyes.

"It's one of the many attributes of mine that you fell for though, isn't it Princess." he says with so much self assurance that you just have to roll your eyes, but it's difficult to hide your smile.

"Shut up." you reply as his arms reach up to wrap around your middle, bringing you into his embrace, but he cringes away at the feel of your still wet clothes.

"Let's get you out of these yeah? You're practically shivering." he says as he untucks your shirt from your skirt, affection and...and love overtaking his soft eyes as he stares up at you, quietly stripping you of your ruined clothes that he throws into a pile at the foot of your bed.

~∞~

"Thank you, Théo." you say quietly, almost in a whisper, after you're both fresh and clean from a shower, all wounds healed over with a bit of his magic.

"What for?" he asks you, just as softly, hand reaching up to brush a loose wisp of hair that had fallen into your face.

You don't answer him, not verbally at least, instead pressing a slow kiss to his mouth that he happily reciprocates, leaning in until he's hovering over you, trapping your body below his.

For protecting me. For defending me. For giving Ginny stability, despite how you feel towards her. I saw the way she gravitated towards you. Just...thank you. Your words have his mouth working harder against your's, causing a moan to escape you as his tongue licks against the seam of your lips, which part eagerly for him.

Always, sweet girl. I will always defend you and those of your friends who are worthy of defending. He replies before detaching his lips from your's, with retraint.

"Weasley could have easily let Enzo find us himself, could've even encouraged Potter to continue their duel. But she didn't; she watched a boy almost die, watched her friend heal the same boy who terrorised you all for years. She could've easily gone to Harry's defence, but she didn't. She looked to us for direction. Not him. That says a lot." he said aloud with a sigh, strands of his curly hair falling over his forehead, causing his eyes to twitch in irritation.

You used the tips of your fingers to coil the stubborn curls away from his face as he speaks, a new sense of admiration, trust and calm washing over you as you stare at your lover.

"It may take time for me to trust her, Granger too," he continues. "But I see how much she looks up to you, trusts you and vice versa. I can learn to forgive them for their wrongdoings. For you, my love."

"Thank you, Théo." you repeat as you bury your face into his shirtless chest, breathing in his intoxicating scent.

He smiles as he presses a kiss to your temple, unaware that today's events would spiral into something unfathomable that Mattheo Riddle should've seen coming from miles away.

~∞~

did i mention how much i love soft!matty😫😫 (in every chapter since they got together 😵‍💫😵‍💫)

i had to end it with some fluff because i'm sure you can guess what's gonna happen in the next few chapters lol

also thought id let you know that meadow's siphon powers are now fully manifested, she just has to learn how to control it (which we see briefly in this chapter)

taglist:

(striked out users are ones that i couldn't tag)

@camille-1019 @lovelyygirl8 @xluansstuff @babeylover @thejadeazalea @undercover-smutlover @adhxmoony @dreamingofonceuponatime @thepassionatereader @urmomsgayforme5 @aphroditeisamilf @devotedlycrookeddonut @purplegirls-posts @nofacenonamelikekira @foxboyapologist @lafrone @lovely-maryj @nromanovaswife @leeknows-wife @wildlyobserving @ravenclawprincess33 @melllinaa @vellicora @lantsovheiress @emiliahoward @stunkbiggu @vcosette @prongsprincessworld @mattiesgirl @rachmmb @x-kermit-x @sun-fiower-seed @cas-planet @certaindreampost @weirdowithnobeardo @mikalovesicecream @sunasbbie @rainy-darling @faeriepigeons @lovely-blackinnon @hiireadstuff @gimalo135 @elsafromcabinsix @moonlightreader649 @blueshome @nopedefe @spencerreidsthings @navs-bhat @agent-tempest @magimtz23 @y0urm0m12 @sbrn0905 @leona-hawthorne @whatsupb18 @moni-cah @taylorann2013 @unstablereader @gisellesprettylies @nat1221

[axelsagewrites]

Well if you still could 👀

Do you think you could do another Ned x f!wife!reader? I really enjoyed the horny!ned fic you already have but I'd be happy with anything. Fluff, sunshine, rainbows, or babies. ❤️ have a nice day 😊

Ned Stark*Sweet Wife

Pairing: Ned x wife!pregnant!reader

Word count: 942

Warnings: pregnancy and pure fluff

Masterlist Here

“My lady I don’t think you quite understand,” Lord Karstark said as you bit your tongue and tried to pretend you hadn’t had better plans for your morning than been chased down by a disgruntled Lord who thought you’d give in easier than your husband, “If you allowed my family to use that land, we would maintain it for you. Free of charge,” he said as if offering you the best deal in the world.

You took a breath before speaking, trying to compose yourself, “And while I am grateful for the offer my Lord, those lands do not belong to you, and we are already in discussion for how we will divvy them up to- “

“Okay but,” he cut you off making you sigh this time though he did not notice, “If I am trusted with them- “

“Lord Karstark,” Ned’s voice came from behind you with an unusual iciness to it. “I do believe my wife,” he said, his arm gently going around your back, his hand resting on your hip, “and I have now both explained to you your assistance, no matter how generous, is not needed in this matter. However, if your family is desperate for farm lands I’m sure a trade deal can be arranged- “Karstark opened his mouth to speak but Ned didn’t stop, “Which you can take up to the owners of the lands once I have declared them. now if you don’t mind my wife and I are late to a very important meeting,”

Karstark grumbled something under his breath but nodded, “Of course my Lord, my lady. Goodbye,” he muttered before turning to leave with his nose in the air.

“Do you think he is sniffing out the new owners?” Ned leant down, to whisper in your ear making you laugh.

Ned took your arm and began to guide you through the busy corridors, “Who do we have to meet?” you asked, eyebrows scrunched, “I don’t remember setting up a meeting,”

“I arranged it,” Ned said, smiling politely at some passing Lords, “It is of the upmost importance that we attend,”

“And whys that?” you asked as you suddenly stopped outside a meeting room.

He opened the door, ignoring your question for now to lead you inside. Once the door was shut behind you, he stepped forward, closing the gap between you with his finger tilting your chin up to face his cheeky grin, “So I can do this,” he leant down to press a soft kiss to your lips.

You giggled a little into the kiss before pushing him away, “Someone could walk in,”

“So?” he asked, hand moving to rest gently on your hip, “We’re married now remember. It’s allowed,” he teased though his hand gently rose to rest on your stomach, “And soon everyone will know anyway what we get up to,”

“Shut up,” you laughed, pulling him back down for a brief gentle kiss. Your bump was barely noticeable under all the furs and wool you wore to keep the cold out but you both knew it was there, “I hope she doesn’t inherit your cheek,” you teased.

“She?” he asked, a hopeful grin on his face, “How’d you know?”

“I just do,” you smiled but it quickly faded, “I hope that doesn’t disappoint you- “

“Of course not,” he said, cupping your face in his hands, “Nothing you do, especially not this, could ever disappoint me,” his thumb gently stroked over your cheek bone. It was a tender moment, of course ended once again by his antics, “Besides I’ll take any excuse to try again,” he said with a cheeky grin.

“As if you ever needed one,”

Your laughter both stopped when there was a knock on the door. Ned held a finger up to his lip, “Maybe if we’re quiet, they’ll go away,” he whispered.

“Lord and Lady Stark may I have a moment?” said a voice behind the door. You could swear it was the diplomat Lord Bolton sent.

“I swear if this is about those lands, I may just burn them to the ground,” Ned muttered before you both stepped back to open the door.

-

You barely got to see Ned for the rest of the day. Every Lord or noble man seemed to need his attention today and you were running around Winterfell organising a banquet for Ned’s upcoming nameday. It wasn’t till you walked into the hall for dinner you saw him again.

“Hello husband,” you greeted with a small smile as you took his seat.

“You need to slow down,” he said, not even bothering to say hello making you roll your eyes, “you’ve been running around faster than the servants,”

“That’s because I need to finish organising the details for- “

“What you need is rest,” he said, cutting you off and placing a hand over yours.

You sighed, tempted to push it away but you knew his heart was good, “You cannot confine to my bed out of fear,”

“If I was to confine you to our bed it would not be for that,” he whispered making your cheeks burn.

“Ned!” you scolded, slapping his thigh making him laugh, “You are so lucky I love you. Otherwise, I’d kill you,”

He smiled softly at that, “lucky indeed. However, I’d be even luckier if you would let me announce our news,” he said, squeezing your hand gently.

You couldn’t help smiling a little despite his antics, “Perhaps it would be a nice announcement to make on your nameday,” you finally conceded, “I just wish we could keep it a secret a little longer,”

“Then your wish is my command, sweet wife.”

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[merowkittie]

hiii! i saw you were doing requests for deadpool and wolverine i have 2 but you can pick

1.Subby wade and logan polly if you do that

2.Black fem reader coming home with those really pretty blow out and wade/logans reaction

example:

🍒

Omg i love BOTH SO ILL DO BOTH AND TAG YOU IN THE NEXT!! Thank you for the request, i hope you enjoy <3!

Blowout Season — DP & WV

warnings: past violence mentioned / sexual comments made by wade ofc / characters might be a bit ooc!!

notes: this is my first time writing for both deadpool and wolverine so bare with me as they might be ooc!!

hairstyle changes are a huge thing. i mean, looking at wade with his fake toupee made you scared to ever go to sleep. (truly it was horrendous.)

so going to get a blowout for yourself? let’s say you definitely were a bit worried. what if they cut your hair too much and you left with less hair than you walked in with? what if they accidentally put a dye in it? or if they put relaxers in it?? but that worry faded as soon as you saw yourself in the reflection of the mirror in the salon.

let’s say sexy isn’t even the word, and you couldn’t wait to show your boyfriends, wade and logan the results!! hopefully they’d be all over you.

the drive home was nerve wracking as you’ve never had this style before with them, and you rarely switch up your hair since you never have time with all these missions and problems wade drags you three into.

on one hand you didn’t see why you’d be worried about them not liking it when they literally love you in anything.

you can recount on one occasion when you woke up from a terribly long nap and your hair was everywhere, drool dried up on the corner of your mouth, and your tank top struggling to keep your goodies in, and wade kissed you right on the lips and called you good looking..

yea, you don’t know what he saw in that moment but the gestures was appreciated.

logan one time called you beautiful on a very rough mission after you two slaughtered a bunch of bad guys and got covered in blood and a bit of guts. he said that he thought he was looking at an angel. how lovely even though you had human remains on you. :)

now as you’re pulling to a stop to park your car and bounding your way up the apartment stairs your practically melting out of excitement and nervousness.

though for some reason before you even get to the door it’s flying open and wade is tumbling out with logan right after him, but instead he stands in the doorway, as wade ALMOST throws himself on top of you.

you moved out of the way just in time.

“Wade Wilson! Jump on me, and mess my hair up if you want to.. you WILL be put on a sex ban.” you glared at him, walking over him and turning to Logan.

“A sex ban is overdoing it! you know you can’t resist this beauty, peanut!” wade about whined from his place on the floor, which went ignored.

standing in front of logan, he eyed you up from head to toe. examining your hair with careful consideration. he brings two fingers up and motions in a circle, gesturing for you to give him a 360 so he can also see the back.

and you do so, turning and lifting the hair up to show how silky and bouncy the ends of your hair are.

after you turn back face to face with him, you can see a hint of a smile on his lips. “do you like it, Lo?”

“oh he LOVES it, sweet cheeks. look at the tent in his pants!” wade chipped in from the sidelines.

listening to wade, you casted a glance down to logan’s sweats and sure enough there was a small tent forming.

you smirked at him as you looked back up. he growled at wade before slightly blushing and walking back inside the apartment.

“peanut that hairstyle is going to be in my dreams for centuries now. it’s taking all the two hundred and six, now two hundred and seven bones in my body to not jump you in this hallway.” wade chirps as he presses a kiss to the skin behind your ear.

you giggle at his words and antics, walking into the apartment to find logan and to finally relax with your boyfriends as they admire your hair.

“maybe when I wrap my hair up later you two can.. but don’t go crazy because if i sweat this out i’ll kill you.” you pointed at both him and logan in warning then thought, “or at least kill you over and over until i get tired.”

logan chuckled loudly at thought one, “go ahead and try, bubs.”

let’s just say, they made you sweat your blowout out by blowing that back out. :3

notes: thank you for reading, i hope you enjoyed <33

[sophvilla]

Hurts So Good ᡣ𐭩

°°°°°°°°°Enha Series°°°°°°°°

Part 2

Pairing: Bf! Lee! Heeseung x Gf! Fem!reader

Synopsis: Heeseung has been gearing up for the Upcoming Comeback of Enhypen resulting in you being worried about his Health but you didn’t know He would Lash out on you.

Warning: Heavy Angst, Yelling and crying, Heeseung being a douchebag towards Reader.

LEE HEESEUNG | 이희승

You've been watching Heeseung work non-stop for their upcoming comeback, his energy and dedication unmatched. You notice he's not taking any breaks, and you try to get him to rest a bit more.

You said to your boyfriend calmly"Heeseung, you need to take a break. You've been working so hard lately and you look exhausted."

He just looks at you, irritated by your pestering him "I can handle it. I don't need you nagging me about this."

"But I'm worried about you. You're not taking care of yourself." You said, worry is evident on your face.

He looks at you like you're some kind of annoyance and says,

"I don't have time to take care of myself. The comeback is approaching and there's so much work to do."

"But you can't keep going like this. You need to take care of your health too." Face frowned, trying your best to make him understand the situation.

Heeseung says with anger, eyes narrowed look down at you "Why are you being so pushy? I told you I can handle it. Just leave me alone!"

"I'm not being pushy. I just care about you."

"Well I don't need your care right now. If you truly care, you would let me work in peace." He said with a scoff as he walks away from you towards the living room.

Heeseung's words cut through you, and you're left feeling frustrated and hurt.

You said while Trying to stay calm"I understand that the comeback is important, but so is your health. You can't push yourself too hard."

"I'll be fine. What I need is space and for you to stop nagging me. Can't you see how stressed I am?" Your boyfriend faces you, eyes flaring as he glares at you,

Those eyes that used to look at you with love and care are now looking at you with this much anger has you baffled as you say with clear frustrations.

"We're in a relationship, Heeseung. I'm not nagging, I'm worried. We're supposed to support each other."

He seems to grow more irradiated then before as he says "Right now, you're not supporting me. You're stressing me out even more!"

You can't seem to shake the feeling as you look at him as you realise that this isn't the person you fell in love with as you say, raising your voice,

"I'm doing this because I care! You're working yourself to the bone and you won't listen to me. How can I not get worried?"

Heeseung was growing more and more annoyed with you as He yells at you "Shut up! I know what I'm doing! You don't know anything about the industry or how much pressure we're under!"

Your voice breaks as tears start to fall down your cheeks. "I may not know the industry, but I know you. And I know what you're doing to yourself isn't healthy."

Heeseung seems even more annoyed by your tears. "Stop crying! You're being so dramatic."

His harsh words cut deep, and you feel a wave of hurt and frustration wash over you. "I'm not being dramatic. I'm worried about you. But fine, if you don't want my care or concern, I'll leave you alone."

And with that you leave the apartment with tears streaming down your face and your heartbroken.

[enmie]

*♡∞:｡.｡ Basorexia ｡.｡:∞♡* -pt.2

➶ bsd's Chuuya, Kunikida, and Jouno, getting perhaps a bit too spoiled

➶ basorexia: the intense desire to kiss 【romance】

➶ cw: gn!reader. suggestive (mild.) cussing (very mild)

𓅪 pt. 2! reqs for pt.3 open!

⋘ 𝑙𝑜𝑎𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑑𝑎𝑡𝑎... ⋙

Chuuya Nakahara's!

It's a given he's picky. You can't kiss his forehead when he has his hat, and he always has his hat on. This port mafia executive lets you kiss his cheek rarely, prefers it on his lips. But when he's drinking wine, you're not allowed to touch Chuuya's crimson-stained lips, let alone touch him as he's drinking; maybe he'll let you after his little session.

But you decided to test his patience.

Those rules, you think they're bullshit, and he's just testing whether or not you would kiss him. "Got it," You replied when he told you those rules.

No, you didn't get it, and had no intention to get it at all. Today's the perfect time, as he just finished something and is now drinking his signature red wine, specifically from the bottle you gifted him and the glass you have for matching. So you slowly approach him. The first thing Chuuya does is offer you wine with a smile.

"Ah? Here, drink with me," He takes your matching glass with his glove-clad hands, pouring fast but precisely like a professional drinker.

"What's the taste?" You ask, walking in front of him. "It tastes like—"

Mwah!

...

"... sweet fruits. It tastes like sweet fruits." You giggle at his cut off response, licking your lips to taste the transferred and subtle taste of the wine. "It does!" "Are you messing with me?" Of course you'll unsuccessfully pretend you don't know. "Me? Noo!"

Those rules, you know they're bullshit, and he's just testing whether or not you would kiss him. "Got it." He replies, slamming his wine glass down as he pulls you down onto his lap forcefully.

Doppo Kunikida's!

He hopes you don't get away with everything you want. You've been kissing him on the cheek a lot, and of course he's not bothered. But since the start of the week, he notices how you trail up his cheek to the corner of his eye every time, and of course he adjusts his glasses.

And everytime he's writing something and you kiss him, you whine, loudly, if he doesn't push his glasses away from you. Fuck, he has to work and you're trying to seduce him. He always sighs, pushes it off, and waits for you to finish.

"Are you done yet?" He asks almost impatiently, but you're convinced he's just pretending to be impatient.

"Heheh... never!"

You move around constantly just to get the perfect kiss to fluster him with, yet he never seems to ever blush around you, rarely even smiles. But you know he loves you. He shows it often.

But this one kiss— it's his last straw.

Angled completely perfectly where your lips don't even touch his glasses, but you're so close it could be ruined with a sudden tilt. You press the lightest, but most loving kiss right there, just at the corner of his eyes from going in a straight line from right above the end of his cheek bone. And there's the face you finally want.

"You look—"

Before you even finish your sentence, he's there, pulling you closer by the garter of your pants.

Saigiku Jouno's!

It's not common he doesn't move. He's like a rock. You're over here trying to fluster Saigiku and he's not budging. Sure, he's smiling widely and his teeth are showing just the right amount, and there's a cute little crinkle at the top of his cheeks. But he just doesn't move. You'll be content if he shifts, rocks around, maybe gets a bit restless.

No.

Instead he's watching you like a boring, but amusing, TV show he's found recently but he's a father of four trying to get time to himself. Except, you're not really a TV show and he's not really a father, yet alone of four. So it's a bit complicated.

He keeps still when you bury yourself deep in his neck, practically a part of him with how close you're attempting to kiss him. He chuckles from here to there. With a bit of a giggle, you trail up slowly, from sucking at his neck to pressing light kisses on his jaw. And then it gets as far to his ears.

Those were sensitive.

"Hmm," Saigiku tilts his head when you do so. It's because he felt a shiver run up his spine and reverb through his whole damn being.

"Yeah?" He shakes his head. Oh, he's moving. For the first time in forever. "Nothing, darling. I just think you kiss good." You beam at his words. "I do?"

Another low chuckle, and he leans forward, slightly pushing you back. "Oh, yes you do,"

ⒺⓃⓂⒾⒺᛌⓈ fanfic

pt.1

[lonelystarrs]

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐞 𝐀𝐜𝐜𝐞𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐝, 𝐓𝐨𝐣𝐢 𝐅𝐮𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐨.

𝑇𝑜𝑗𝑖 𝐹𝑢𝑠ℎ𝑖𝑔𝑢𝑟𝑜 𝑥 𝐹𝑒𝑚𝑅𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟

You made his toes curl, his eyes cross and his heart thump, you were his bratty sweetheart, his second chance —it’s as simple as that really.

Warnings: 18+ MDNI • fluff • smut smut smut • Toji brain rot • Toji bit yandere / toxic but how is that surprising • rough & soft Toji •

Toji who likes cupping his large hand under your chin and throat so he can feel the bulge of his dick as he slides it down. Spit dripping down your chin and lacing through his fingers until it slides down his wrist. Tilting your head up ever so slightly so he can watch little hearts form in your eyes.

“Fuck girl, you take it so well.”

He could feel your tongue against his balls, just giving him that little something extra because you were a sucker for spoiling him.

He knew you liked the view from here, his six pack, huge man titties and has hair falling forward to frame his face, those gorgeous green eyes almost glowing as they looked down at you.

That shit eating smirk on his face, that scar ever so noticeable.

“Y’not even gaggin’ -fuck, throats tight though think it’s got some competition with that pussy huh?”

His hips gave a test thrust, letting his dick flex down your throat to see if you’d gag, it made the man groan when he could feel his own cock flexing through the bulge in your throat. His green eyes rolling back into their sockets when he felt his cock sliding, the bulge retreating and running along his fingers.

But what made his eyes actually cross? When you pulled back and pushed him onto the sofa that was behind his legs, cock slapping against his stomach and he landed with a chuckled umph.

Joking about you being a brat, with a smirk on his face as you put yourself between his thighs, elbows resting on them. taking both hands around his length and wrapping your lips around his thick head, hollowing your cheeks and pressing your tongue to the underside of his cock head.

Rotating your hands in different directions and bobbing your mouth on his cock, solely focusing your tongue and cheeks on his bellend —and it was too much.

Never in his life had he found someone that sucked dick like you, that handled him like you had. You gave him a run for his fucking money and you made love hearts appear in his damn eyes.

Toji’s mouth hung ajar, his toes curling against the living room carpet, his eyes almost crossing as they started to almost zone out past you whilst his hips rose from the sofa in automatic, little bucks. Lacing his fingers behind your head and watching you with some dumb ass expression.

Toji who makes you some tea after with honey after to help with a sore throat caused by his dick. ♡

Toji who puts you in a choke hold when he’s fucking you from behind, huge biceps bulging against your neck practically cutting off your air supply.

Keeping you in a standing prone bone position as he presses you against the huge glass windows of the pent house. Ass arched back into him, your cheeks red from the result of his vile thrusting but he can’t help it, the look of your ass rippling each time and the sound of it against his stomach makes him near damn feral.

“Whole city can see you getting fucked like a slut, shit -you like that huh? Cunts clenching me.”

Toji who insisted this was just incredible sex, but hadn’t slept with anyone else in eight months since he first fucked you.

Toji who deals with any guy who tries to get close to you.

Toji who has access to your phone through his, having found someone to hack it so he can see who you’re texting… he insisted it was just sex right? He never asked you to stop seeing anyone because that would admit he wanted you to himself. Cause he’s piss scared of committing, he can’t accept love or acceptance due to his past trauma.

Toji who actively ruins any date you get asked on — he finds out the time and place, through your phone conversations, gets there before you and scares the guys away before you arrive.

Toji who is there to comfort you after being stood up again because he texts at just the right time, sliding in with a subtle check up and invites himself to see you… he cheers you up with some drinks, some touches all before stumbling into the house and hiking up that pretty dress you wore for the date, for that other guy.

Toji who gets off on the fact you started giving up on dating, because it just wasn’t working out.

Toji who kinda ends up feeling bad when he sees that you start thinking something is wrong with you, that you’re undateable.

Toji who starts seeing you different when you begin to hang around him more and he invites himself over, leaving things in your house, like his shirts and a toothbrush. how he likes your cooking, your night & morning routine.

Toji who wakes up with you one morning, the sunlight coming through the blinds. Green eyes tracing their gaze over your plump lips, the sheet riding just low enough to see some side boob, your subtle breathing and his heart really thumps for the first time for you in the glow of morning light. Crisp white sheets that always smelt so fresh, so you.

Toji who he can’t help but lean over and graze his lips to yours, eyes watching to see a reaction from you.

Toji who shifts himself to lay on top of you to encourage you to wake up, pressing kisses to your cheek before trailing down to your neck. Pressing his morning hard on to your bare cunt, still wet with slick and cum that he filled you with not seven hours ago.

Toji who hums in response when you groan his name, stirring from sleep, threading your fingers through his hair lazily before wrapping your arms around his head cuddling into him as he leaves wet kisses on your neck. Rotating his hips so the head of his dick rubbed over your clit, your groggy moan as you hips reacted back to encourage him. His heart throbbing like his cock as he starts to feel that emotion for you fire through his veins.

Toji who angles himself to slide in slowly, both moaning at that first stretch to accommodate him, his hot breath and moan vibrating against your neck. Hearing his muffled ‘fuuu’ck,’ still deep with recently waking from sleep.

Toji whose hands that skim up your body to place his elbows either side of your head, his thrusting unusually slow and controlled, green eyes drinking in every expression you made. His stomach pressed against yours, forehead resting to you as he actively made love to you for the first time.

Toji who let himself go, burying his face into your neck, wrapping his huge arms around your waist so he could fuck up into you. Coaxing you with words of praise to cum around his dick saying you were his girl, his bratty sweetheart.

Toji who got into a desperate state fucking you that he moans out a muffled ‘I love ya,’ with sloppy thrusts as he cums, hips jolting into yours as he releases trying to keep his dick thrusting at the same time but sensitive from over stim.

Toji who smirks into your neck when he hears you breathlessly say “finally, it took you long enough to realise and bloody say it.”

Toji who lifts himself, eyebrow arched looking down at you.

“What, you ain’t got summit to say back?”

“I need to hear you say it a few more times, you ruined five dates thinking I wouldn’t find out, so let’s say four more times with you meaning it and I’ll think about it.”

Toji who frowns when you winked at him, wondering how you knew he’d been ruining the dates, wiggling your hips to bring him back to you as he still cock warmed in you.

“I’ll convince you with my cock long before that happens sweetheart, you forget how I get you beggin’ n’cryin?” Bucking his hips a little as if to make a point, feeling cum drool down his balls at this point.

“T-Toji stop I can’t take anymore, you’re so big.” He mocked in some girlish voice, with some sarcastic expression making you smirk up at him knowing he was slightly irritated. As fair as you were concerned Toji had something to prove, females swooned over him and you were no fool to his past behaviour.

“Challenge accepted Toji Fushiguro, just don’t forget whose eyes I can make cross when I suck dick.”

“You fucking brat,” a large hand wrapped around your throat, cock flexing in your pussy as he half assed glared down at you.

“Yeah, but you looooooveee me~!”

“Yeah? hope you remember that sweetheart ‘cause I ain’t gonna fuck you like I do.”

© pharix 2023 permission is not given to repost, translate or post anywhere else.