#feeling like writing for the first time in weeks so maybe I'll do some short drabbles if you wanna send in a prompt xxxxx

[hearts4golbach]

Hello! I hope you are doing great. I was wondering if you could write a Johnnie Guilbert smut where him and the reader have been friends for a few weeks or so, but they both have a lot of sexual tension, that they just haven’t acted on yet. Everyone notices, so Jake and Carrington always make jokes. Then, one night at a party, the group is having fun, and the reader is watching Johnnie intensely. Johnnie notices and decides to walk the reader out of the party and go home to make the move everyone has been waiting for. I'm thinking kind of rough but intimate smut, lots of praise, and maybe choking because he notices that the reader is a little kinky?? 🥰 If you're comfortable with writing that. Afterward, they cuddle, and Johnnie asks the reader if she would like to be his girlfriend. Awh. (There's an edit of Johnnie walking out of a party; it's so fine. That's where I got this idea from, lol.) 🙏🙏

Be Mine.

pairing:

Johnnie Guilbert x Fem!Reader.

warnings:

18+ smut, choking, unprotected sex (use protection), tiny drinking mention.

"fuck, johnnie. you scared the shit out of me." Your pale friend walked into the kitchen. it was half past midnight, and seeing his figure creep into the kitchen out of the corner of your eye scared the shit out of you.

he was standing shirtless beside you. "Sorry, i -" he looked you up and down. you were in your pajama booth shorts and a tank top, both excentuated your figure. "I was just coming to get water."

your eyes hovered on his bare chest and tattoos a little longer than they should've been. "Don't worry about it." You gave him a soft smile.

you were staying the night because you may or may not have gotten a little too drunk to drive yourself home. maybe a lot too drunk.

his hand grazed your waist as he moved past you. "you feeling any better?"

you cleared your throat. "yeah, somewhat. I plan on running home in the morning to get ready for the video, but then I'll be back."

he smiled, "good. im-"

"you guys better not be fucking in the kitchen." Jake interrupted as he came down the stairs.

"what kind of fucking cult meeting is this?" you joked, "why are we all up right now?"

Jake pranced into the kitchen with a shrug.

"I'm fucking dying of dehydration." johnnie finally grabbed a water bottle out of the fridge.

"goodnight you guys." you walked back into the living room and laid on the couch.

it was hard to sleep. your mind was plagued with thoughts of Johnnie. how his hands would feel around your neck, how he'd taste in your mouth. sleeping was useless at this point. it was 4 am by the time you got off the couch to run home. you dragged yourself off of the comfortable couch and slipped on your shoes.

you snuck out the front door in attempt to not wake anyone up. the journey to your house and back was quick. you took a 5 minute shower to wash the drunk look off of your face. then, you got dressed, ate breakfast, and left again.

whenever you got back, you found Carrington scrounging around the kitchen. "hey, Carrington."

"oh, what's up, y/n. where'd ya go?" he pulled a box of Twix cereal from the cabinet and poured himself a bowl.

"just ran home real quick to shower and shit. can't be looking homeless on the internet." you leaned against the counter.

he took a bite of his cereal. "true that. want some?" he asked between smacking lips.

you scrunched your nose. "i'm good, i already ate."

"i know i've said this a million times," he rolled his eyes, "but you need to make a move on Johnnie. that boy is head over heels, choking on his own feet for you."

"first of all, what does that even mean? second, i don't think he likes me like that, i think we just have a unique friendship." you flailed your hand around to make your point.

"unique? yeah, that guy is always undressing you with his eyes, you do the same." he smirked. he wiped a droplet of milk from the corner of his mouth.

"yeah, whatever." you rolled your eyes before turning. you walked back into the living room and plopped down on the couch.

carrington wasn't far behind you. he sat on the opposite side of you. he didn't say anything, just sat and munched on his cereal. you snapped a picture, thinking it was funny, and posted it on your story after tagging him.

"we're recording around 7 ish, right?" you asked him, checking the group chat to double check the details.

"actually, me and Jake were talking last night about making it earlier. Tara wants to go to this party tonight and wants us to come with." he shrugged, "we were gonna talk to you and Johnnie 'bout it whenever you were both up."

you raised your eyebrows. "i'm more than down. i'm sure Johnnie will be too. i mean, i don't wanna answer for him, but you know."

"well, duh."

you and Carrington sat in the couch talking and watching a movie while you waited for everyone to wake up. he mentioned planning on going back to sleep, but he stayed up with you instead.

it was a few hours before everyone had came downstairs. Jake was making a smoothie, which ended up waking up Johnnie. Carrington brought up the idea of going to that party later that night, which Johnnie agreed to.

the last few hours before recording went by fast, as well. you spent most of them with Johnnie.

you had asked Tara to bring you one of her dresses, since you didn't want to leave Johnnie and run home. she obviously agreed. Tara loved seeing how her clothes fit you.

Jake set up the camera in the living room. "you guys ready?"

everyone said some form of yes. Jake started the camera.

recording the video felt long whenever all you wanted to do was go and party. it was truth or drink with everybody. of course, Carrington asked johnnie about me and him. he asked of Johnnie had feelings for me. he took a shot for that one. you knew the fans would be all over that clip.

the video was finally done an hour later. it was about 1:30, so you had time to kill.

you helped Jake and Johnnie with chores around the house while Carrington and Tara ran to get lunch.

you were working on making Johnnies bed for him whenever he spoke up. "y/n?"

"What's up?"

he stuttered, "You excited for the party?"

"Yeah, I guess so. they're always fun, especially when you go. we get to be introverts together." You turned around and smiled at him.

he didn't respond. his eyes flickered from your lips back to your eyes. there was a moment of silence before he spoke up. "Yeah, I'm glad you'll be there."

"Are you okay?" You stepped closer to him.

"Yeah, I just -" he began to lean in closer to you.

"We're back!" Tara yelled up the stairs. it startled both of you. you quickly backed away from each other.

"i-" you began to speak.

"Let's go eat." he shot you a soft smile before leading you back downstairs.

you followed johnnie and sat next to him on the couch. everybody was already in the living room. Jake was scrolling on tiktok while the other two were emptying the Chipotle bags.

"the fuck were you guys doing? making out?" Tara smirked.

Johnnie shook his head. "we were cleaning, tara."

she hummed, "right."

-

everyone ubered to the party together. Tara was hyping all of you up, but we didn't really need her to. you were all pumped up as it was.

you locked your arm with Johnnies as you walked inside. Tara immediately started singing along to whatever 2000s pop was blasting. it didn't take long for Jake and Carrington to get into it.

you watched as Johnnie followed their lead, bopping his head along and singing some of the lyrics. you giggled, which caught Johnnies attention. he smiled at you, and you smiled back.

everyone got at least one drink. you sipped on a hard seltzer while dancing with tara. you couldn't keep your eyes off of Johnnie.

"y/n!" Tara whined, "why are you so distracted tonight?!"

"it's just johnnie. I don't know, like, what's going on between us anymore."

"it's obvious you two like each other, just go for it!" she scolded.

"But I'm not sure! what if I make a move and I get the wrong idea so... I don't even know!"

"Trust me, y/n. he likes you." she rolled her eyes.

you looked towards Johnnie again. he was already looking at you. he shot you a smile and a wave. you felt your face heat up, and you looked away.

"See? come on!" she laughed. "we both know you need some dick, and Johnnie has had this huge crush on you for so long. I know you like him, too. it's obvious."

"Okay, fine. i-" You felt a tap on your shoulder, making you jump. you turned your head to see Johnnie. he let his hand rest on your shoulder. "Hi."

"Hey, im pretty bored. wanna come with me? I'm going home."

you glanced back at Tara, and she winked at you.

"Yeah, I'm down. this shit is pretty boring." which was a lie on your part, and you knew he was lying too.

you waved bye to everyone and followed Johnnie out of the party. he had already called an Uber, which was waiting by the curb.

he opened the door for you, and you climbed in. the whole ride home was silent.

as Johnnie began to unlock the front door, he spoke up. "I noticed you staring." he pushed the front door open and walked in.

you followed close behind him. "Sorry." You responded, flustered. you shut the door behind you.

Johnnie turned around, stopping you in your tracks. "Don't be. I'm just- fuck. I need you so bad, y/n."

"What? can you repeat that?" You smirked, backing yourself into the door as he followed.

he gripped your hips, placing his head in the crook of your neck. "I said I need you so bad. it's unbearable."

his grip on you was tight. he himself closer to you as he began to kiss your neck. your hand tangled into his already messy hair. he bit your neck gently as he sucked dark hickeys into your neck. those would be hard to explain to everybody.

"fuck, I think I need you more." you whispered into his ear.

he pulled away from your neck and smashed his lips onto yours. his lips were soft and glided with yours perfectly. you had been waiting for this kiss for so long, too long.

as he slipped his tongue into your mouth, he slid his hands up your dress and gripped your ass. he pulled it up, so it bunched around your waist. he massaged your ass with one hand while the other stayed on your hip.

"johnnie, please." you pleaded, trying to pull him closer by the collar of his shirt.

"Please what, mama?" he pulled away, his eyes locked on your lips.

"God, fuck me."

he grabbed your hand and dragged you up to his bedroom. you slammed the door and locked it, just in case.

his hands were immediately on you once more, attempting to pull the dress off of you. once he got it, he threw it somewhere on the floor.

he led you back to the bed. your knees caught against the bed, and you fell back. he crawled up on top of you and teased the rim of your bra.

you clawed at his shirt and eventually pulled it off, leaving his pale skin and tattoos there for you to admire.

you quickly unbuckled and pulled down his jeans, revealing his hard member in his underwear.

you palmed him through his undwear, making him quietly whimper against your lips. he rushed to take off your panties, to impatient to worry about your bra at the moment.

he stuck two fingers in your mouth. "spit for me, baby."

you complied, licking and sucking his fingers before spitting on them. he pulled his boxers down and kicked them off. he rubbed your spit all over his dick.

"Please, Johnnie. need you so bad." You begged.

"so impatient, pretty girl." his hand caressed your cheek before gripping your hip.

he aligned his tip with your entrance before thrusting inside of you. he bottomed out, making you moan loudly. he gave you a moment to adjust.

"fuck, please fuck me." you whimpered.

"yes, ma'am." he smirked and began thrusting inside of you at an agonizingly slow pace.

he let out a soft grunt with each thrust. he leaned down and placed his lips onto yours gently.

you wrapped your legs around his waist, begging him to go faster. he did so, speeding up his pace just enough. you moaned into his mouth.

you reached for his hand that was pressed into the bed beside you. you took it and moved it up to your neck. "fucking choke me." you instructed him breathlessly.

you felt his cock twitch inside of you. "You'd like that, Mama?"

you nodded eagerly as he wrapped his hand around your throat. he gripped it tight, cutting off some of your air flow. your moans became raspy and breathless, and he thrusted faster.

"fuck," you moaned out as Johnnie tightened his grip on your throat. your eyes rolled back as the sounds of skin slapping together filled the room.

"you're taking me so well, baby." he praised as he was breathing heavily. "so fucking good."

he pulled you up by your neck to kiss your lips. you wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him passionately.

he pounded into you, making you moan loud as you felt his cock twitch again.

"fuck, I'm close, Johnnie." you whimpered before pressing your lips against his again.

he let out a small giggled followed by a moan. "cum on my dick."

your walls squeezed his cock tight as you moaned his name. you felt a coil build up in your stomach as you moaned and cursed under your breath. your walls spasmed around him as you came hard.

Johnnie helped you ride out your high before pulling out and cumming on your stomach. he whimpered as he covered your lower stomach in his cum.

he collapsed on the bed next to you. "thanks for making my bed, but now it's all fucked up." he joked.

you hummed. he jumped up and grabbed a small rag from his closet. he cleaned his cum off of your stomach and the left over juices off of your pussy.

he pulled the covers over the two of you. you curled up against him. "that was amazing." you muttered, closing your eyes.

he wrapped his arms around you. "y/n?"

"hmm?"

"will you be my girlfriend?" he leaned his head against yours.

"of course I will, stupid."

[zweiginator]

hey bestie could I request patrick and art taking turns eating the reader out (or at the same time)????? feel like that would be my dream fr. love your writing!!!

OH.

patrick and arts' confidence had been struggling. they had just lost their fourth doubles match. in a row. this was uncommon--no, it had never happened before. one loss happens. two is bad luck. three is shaken confidence. but four, four becomes a habit.

and you heard their coach yelling at them after their loss. you, expecting your best friends to win, had promised to take them out for wings at their favorite bar after their win. of course, they didn't win, but their dejected little puppy dog eyes made you feel so bad. so you took them out anyway.

you would never tell them this, but they look so cute in their matching outfits. snug black shorts that hug their muscular thighs. a t-shirt adorning their beloved tennis club. art wore his ball cap backwards; patrick's was worn the normal way.

and they were so sad. barely talking to you, sighing as they sucked and bit on their wings, pushing their fingers into their mouth. you kind of just watched them eat.

and the thing about your relationship with art and patrick was that it had teetered and almost bled over the line for the one and a half years you all had been friends. nothing about your relationship was traditional. on the road, you would all share a bed. and sometimes you wore art's shirt to bed and patrick's boxers. you commented on how handsome they look multiple times a week, and laughed at how flustered they would get. the boys ogled at your ass when you played your own matches, the wind pushing your tiny skirt up as a gift to them. but you had never, ever fully committed to pushing those boundaries. none of you had ever kissed, nor had you indulged in your sexual fantasies.

but that doesn't mean you didn't have them. and you knew art and patrick talked about them when you weren't there.

so you had an idea. it was stupid, and maybe you were feeling cocky at how pathetic they looked sitting across from you in a silence that was bordering on uncomfortable. but you gave them a deal.

"your guys' confidence is wavering." you tell them, pushing your finger into their basket of wings. you suck some of the sauce off. patrick and art are listening; it's the first thing anyone has said at this celebratory-dinner-turned -depressing-pity-party. "and hey, you're both incredibly good at tennis. so it makes sense that you're this upset."

they nod, and reach for the same fry. art pushes the basket towards patrick, and he happily shoves a handful in his mouth.

"but if you sit here and let it get you down, you're both gonna get in your head and keep losing."

"how do we avoid that? it may be too late." patrick takes a sip of his drink. art has his arms crossed over his chest.

"have something that drives you to want to win so bad, that you don't have a choice but to win." you lean forward. their eyes are big and confused.

"we always want to win." art shrugs.

"and if you do," you begin. "i will give you both a present of sorts."

"which is?" patrick's interest is piqued. but you can tell he's pissed at you insinuating they don't want to win enough.

"if you win your doubles on thursday, i'll let you do whatever you want to me." you whisper it, and hear them gulp.

your promise alluded to a conversation you had overheard six months prior. you weren't even supposed to be at their apartment, but you had had a bad day and wanted to watch a movie with them. they were talking loud in the living room, and you quickly realized it was about you.

"i wouldn't purposely ruin our friendship, is what i'm saying." art said. "but if she let us fuck her--i would do it immediately."

patrick interjected. "i would do disgusting things to her. and i would let her do them right back to me. seriously, anything."

the word anything was the kicker here. because ever since that conversation, you wondered what anything would be for them. how they would fuck you. what their fantasies were.

patrick wipes his mouth with a napkin and leans forward. "both of us together? or we separately can do anything we want?"

you shrug. "whatever you both want. that's the promise. i don't have any stipulations on how it's done."

"holy fuck." art is flustered, maybe because he realizes you know he is just as perverted as his best friend.

you all shook on it, like it was a stupid bet. it kind of was.

and by thursday, you were nervous. they were playing some of the top-ranked players in the nation. of course, art and patrick had good rankings, respectively, but they had been steadily dropping down the ranks since their losing streak began.

everyone at the match was rooting for art and patrick, but they didn't expect them to win. and you didn't know what it meant for your friendship with the boys that you were on the edge of your seat with your fingers crossed, praying they would win. for you.

they came out strong, waving to the crowd, but especially to you. and when the match began, you had never seen their reflexes so fast, their hits so precise. the other boys were gaining on them, but the deep grunts coming from art and patrick, the sweat running down their necks, it all showed they wanted this so fucking bad.

they won like it was easy. of course, they had actually tried incredibly hard--but they made it look nonchalant. and they looked at you as they hugged each other, celebrating a win that signified much more than fans saw on the surface.

they decided to cash in their prize that same night. that's what they said when they came up to you, beaming. their chests heaved, but their smiles were big. and nobody around knew exactly what they meant.

so you lay on patrick's bed, in your little skirt and a tank top, resting up on your elbows so you can watch them. you notice how they are both there; they didn't decide to go separately.

neither of them really say a word at first. patrick slips one of your shoes off and art the other. they look at each other as their hands run up your bare leg, until they reach the waistband of your skirt.

"do you wanna do the honors, artie?" patrick asks.

art quickly pulls your skirt down your legs. they admire the pink lacy panties you're wearing.

"take off your shirt." art tells you.

you do, quickly. you aren't wearing a bra. their breath hitches.

"fuck me." patrick lunges forward and sucks your nipple into his mouth, his teeth grazing against the sensitive bud. art goes for your neck, pressing open-mouthed kisses along your jaw and down to your collarbones. his strong hands feel your breast. you're trying not to moan, not to give them the satisfaction that this is for anyone but them. but you do.

art returns the favor by turning your face to his. he kisses you desperately, moaning into your mouth, his spit wet on your chin. patrick feels left out. he moves up your body by kissing your jaw on the other side, before he forcefully kisses your mouth. he is hungry. at a quick glance, you see how hard they are. but they don't pull out their cocks. they don't pull your hand to feel their erections. and they don't tell you to suck them off.

ininstead,stead their mouths travel downward, each of them pulling one of your legs apart. they press sloppy kisses down your chest, licking down your stomach, until they are laying on their own stomachs, looking up at you. patrick kisses your inner thigh. he pulls your panties down your legs.

"her pussy is so pretty." art admires. they're talking like you're not even there.

"look how fucking wet she is."

your legs shake as you bite your lip.

"should we take turns, or should we share?" art asks.

patrick is greedy, and he hooks both of his arms around your legs, his hands on your ass. he presses wet, hot kisses to your cunt and licks at your clit. your hips buck, and art pushes them down, cooing in your ear. you can tell he's jealous, that he wants to help too.

"good girl." art praises. his breath feels good against your ear, and you move to kiss him, your hands tangled in his pretty blond hair.

patrick's fingers move inside you. they're fat and soaked and his tongue feels good as it moves in circles over your swollen clit.

art pulls away from your mouth and patrick pulls the hem of art's shirt.

"come taste her."

your mouth hangs open as patrick pulls his fingers from you and offers them to art. and the moan you let out as art sucks them into his mouth is fucking pornographic.

and then art's mouth is on your cunt. his fingers press into your thighs and it hurts in the best way. art is louder than you expected, and louder than patrick. he spits on your cunt and spreads it open to admire your hole, soaked and pretty for them. he hums and moans and groans into your pussy, and patrick can't take it.

so they share you. their tongues touch and their spit mixes as they eat your pussy, their hips bucking into the bed.

"tastes so fucking good." patrick moans, his thumb pushing into you.

art looks up at you, at how fucked out you look. you cum on their tongues--both of them. and you watch as they continue to lap at your sensitive clit, begging you to cum just one more time for them.

they don't want this to be over. and you think about how this was what they wanted, this is what they decided on when you gave them that choice. this was their anything.

[moviecritc]

hii could you write something about lestappen x reader? maybe taking care of max because he is sick? thank you 💕

sick days ⋆ lestappen

pairing: lestappen x reader

summary: after going on a long run in the morning, max ends up sick, but he doesn't accept it

word count: 1.5K

a/n: ok im in love with this, if you guys have more lestappen requests do them!! bc i love writing em <3

english is not my first language, sorry for the mistakes and poor storytelling.

masterlist | wattpad | letterboxd

Another day, Charles and you woke up feeling the absence of a body in your bed.

"Has he gone out for a run again?" you asked as you approached Charles's bare torso.

"I think so," he nodded, his voice sleepy. You leaned against Charles's chest to see the clock on the nightstand, eliciting a groan from one of your boyfriends.

"It's seven in the morning," you said, almost in a groan yourself.

You collapsed onto the bed, planting a kiss where your hand had rested before. You stretched out, and Charles slipped out of bed, putting on one of Max's Red Bull t-shirts. Before leaving the room, he kissed you on the forehead and then on your bare collarbone. You stayed in bed a little longer, dozing off while Charles prepared breakfast, as he did every morning. The winter break was your favorite time of the year. After being stressed all season with work, going back and forth, and spending weeks without seeing them, these months were the best gift.

Your days revolved around having breakfast together when Max returned from his run. Then, you would make love leisurely and shower together. If you felt like it, you would go shopping or play paddle tennis, then return home to cook together. The boys would then train in the sim or at the gym, and you would usually go for a walk with your friends or even train with them. Although when that happened, it often ended up in a long cardio session in bed. And to end the day, you would go out for dinner at some fancy place in Monaco and then drink and dance at a club.

That morning, Max took a little longer to arrive, but when he walked in, it seemed like a cold smoke followed him. It was mid-December, and it had been a cold winter in Monaco.

Max entered the kitchen and kissed Charles and then you. You noticed his outfit. "Aren't you cold, love?" You looked him up and down, with his short shorts and tank top clinging to his body from the cold sweat.

"Nah," he denied, brushing it off and wiping the sweat from his forehead.

You didn't think much of it until you went to open the window in your room and received a gust of cold air from outside. You were attentive to your boyfriend's behavior for the rest of the day, noticing how he had sneezed several times in the last hour or how, after the shower, he seemed even more tired than usual.

At noon, while Charles was preparing pasta for lunch, you went to Max, who was lying on the couch.

"How are you, love?" You sat next to him, intertwining your arm with his, and noticed - or rather heard - as Max sniffed his nose.

"Fine, why'd you ask?" Max furrowed his brow, feigning confusion.

"Oh, no reason," you shrugged, running a hand through his hair. "I just notice you seem tired."

Charles had an ear on the conversation, also noticing that Max was probably brewing something and hadn't mentioned it for some stereotypical nonsense he thought.

"No, no. Don't worry, schat," Max assured. "I'll go help you now."

He leaned in to kiss you, but at that moment, he started coughing heavily. You let out a sweet laugh and went over to Charles.

"Char, I think our Max is getting sick," you nodded, while Charles put an arm around your waist.

"It can't be!" Charles exclaimed, pretending to be surprised.

"No!" Max jumped in immediately, stood up, and practically ran towards them, swaying a little. "I'm not getting sick."

Max let out a heavy breath and leaned on the counter, catching his breath that he had lost in the four steps he had taken.

"I see," Charles commented, walking past him and giving him a gentle pat on the butt.

"Max, why don't you go lie on the couch? We'll take care of this," you suggested with a comforting smile.

Max rolled his eyes in a very exaggerated way and crossed his arms as you and Charles looked at each other and smiled knowingly.

"I'm going to the sim, I can see I'm not wanted here," he said, with a somewhat sad look.

When Max left, Charles and you looked at each other. "Is he mad?" you asked, leaning on Charles's shoulder and hugging him from behind while he cooked.

"Nah, he just thinks he's the strong one in the relationship," He gave you a soft kiss on the forehead.

In all the time you had been together, you had never seen Max weak. You had seen Charles cry and complain countless times over any little thing. But Max? That man seemed like a piece of iron when it came to feelings. He hadn't even cried at the end of How To Train Your Dragon, and although to some extent the image of a strong guy and the pillar of the relationship was fine, you were dying to see his softer side.

Twenty minutes later, Charles had finished cooking the pasta, and you went to the room where the sim set was.

"Charles, come see this," you called. He came immediately, finding Max totally asleep in the chair, with the car crashed in the first curve of the Monaco Grand Prix.

"Do we wake him up?" Charles whispered, looking at him lovingly.

"Wait," You approached him carefully, taking a picture of him. "Okay, wake him up," you smiled.

Charles began to leave soft kisses on Max's cheek and lips, even lightly biting his earlobe. The sleeping man let out a loud gasp and practically jumped up from the chair.

"Hey, easy, easy," Charles said, putting his hands on his shoulders.

"How you doing, sleeping beauty?" you said.

"I wasn't sleeping,"

"Oh, sure not," Charles said, with a little smile. "Wanna come eat with us?"

"Yeah, just give me a minute," Max nodded, stifling a yawn.

Both Charles and you heard him blowing his nose for almost two minutes straight. Max appeared in the living room, trying to pretend he was fine, but his reddened nose gave him away.

He helped set the table. "What are we going to do this afternoon?" the blonde asked before blowing his nose.

Charles and you exchanged glances, knowing that if you didn't do anything, Max would keep insisting he was perfectly fine.

"I don't feel like going out today," you commented calmly.

"Yeah, me neither," Charles agreed.

Both saw the look of relief on Max's face. "Oh, okay. Well, nothing then," he pretended.

"We can watch a movie," you suggested, shrugging.

After lunch, you cuddled up on the couch, and you chose the movie. You noticed Max moving closer to you, resting his head on your shoulder, which was usually the other way around. Towards the end of the movie, you heard Max sniffling repeatedly, and you didn't even consider that they could be tears until you saw Max wiping his face.

You glanced at him. "Are you crying?"

"No…" Max muttered with a thin voice.

Charles looked at them. "You're crying!" he exclaimed, and quickly changed positions, with Max now in the middle.

"It's just… he found someone who loves him," he said between tears, pointing at the TV. "Like I love you guys."

Charles and you looked at each other with a pout, immediately showering him with kisses. You were watching Shrek.

"Wait, wait, I don't wanna get you sick," Max said, denying the kisses.

Charles backed off a bit in surprise. "Are you admitting you're sick?"

"Of course I'm sick, look at me,"

They chuckled a little, and you got up to get some cough syrup and ibuprofen for your boyfriend, finally. It barely took a minute, but when you returned, Max was lying on Charles's chest while he stroked his hair.

"Did he fall asleep again?" you whispered.

"I think so, come here," Charles stretched out his hand, and you wrinkled your nose a bit.

"I don't want to wake him up,"

Charles rolled his eyes. "Come here, mon ange," he repeated.

You stretched out on the couch, under Charles's arm and covering Max with a blanket. From where you were, you could see Max sleeping perfectly.

"It's so cute to see him like this," you whispered to Charles, while he gave you kisses on your jaw and ear.

"Isn't it?" Charles agreed. "And get ready for tomorrow because he's going to be clingier than ever."

"It's like he's been waiting for this moment all my life," you said, with a radiant smile.

Charles chuckled slightly, causing Max to move a bit, letting out a moan and falling back asleep immediately.

[sharksnshakes]

Hi I'm doing this on anon bcs I'm embarassed of how fast i'm asking this lmao butttttttt

...will you write a part two to the tim drake x reader?

PLS I BEG

You have a crush on Tim... and to your surprise, getting his attention won't be nearly as hard as you thought. But he keeps reminding you of Red Robin? That can't be right.

AN; part one can be found here. not sure where i'm going with this yet BUT expect a part three. and maybe something else with kon. in my titans era

Wordcount; 1.1k

TW; some cursing, mentions of drinking, making out (you'll see)

As luck would have it, you're at the same hole-in-the-wall bar the next weekend. Red Robin sighting aside, cheap drinks are cheap drinks, and now you're crowded around a rickety table with the same friends as last time. Plus Tim.

A week's worth of deliberation has lead you to the conclusion that you have honest to God romantic feelings for him. Sure, Red Robin turned your head, but chances are slim to none that you'll ever see the dark haired vigilante again. Even if you did, you know nothing about his personal life! You don't even know his name! How could a relationship possibly work out?

You're doubling down your efforts, which is why you're wedged up against Tim's side, nursing a cool drink in your hands and refusing to feel bashful about the outfit you've got on tonight. Tim never goes out, ergo, he's only ever seen you in the baggy sweats and oversized tees you show up to lecture in. It's the perfect opportunity for you to dress up and flaunt your assets. If it worked on Robin, it'll work on Tim.

Right?

"Havin' fun?" You ask, glancing over at him.

Tim looks out of place, to put it mildly. He is the heir to Wayne Enterprises, after all, and you love him dearly, but his vintage sneakers and expensive-smelling cologne don't exactly fit in with the sweaty crowd of coeds.

"I think so?"

You smother a laugh. "Hey, at least you're not holed up in your apartment cramming for another test."

Tim frowns gently. "Yeah. You're right."

It feels like his comment holds some second meaning that's flying right over your head. You'd ask him about it, but before you get the chance, one of your mutual friends is grabbing you both by the wrists and dragging you into the makeshift dance floor.

After about fifteen minutes of bouncing and singing and laughing, the fragrant smoke and crush of bodies start to get to you. The music's pounding. The air is heavy. You squeeze your eyes shut, willing the uncomfortable, oppressive feeling away.

"Hey." Tim appears at your side. He's got a steadying hand on your shoulder and his lips are practically on your ear. "Y'okay?"

If you weren't short of breath before, you definitely are now.

"Need some air," you shout back, fighting to be heard over the speakers. "I'll be back in a minute."

Tim's hand stays on your shoulder. "Let me come with you."

You want to tell him he doesn't have to. This is his first night out in ages, and the last thing you want to do is throw a wrench in it by dragging him outside; when you look at his face, though, there's genuine concern and care in his eyes. You nod.

"Lead the way," Tim shouts, and you reach for his hand as you push through the crowd. His fingers wrap firmly around yours, steady but not overbearing, and a horde of butterflies descend on your stomach.

Tim doesn't drop your hand until you're outside, sucking in the nighttime air. It's sticky and humid outside, a thunderstorm can be heard in the distance, but it's heavenly compared to inside.

You pace up and down the alleyway for a moment. Just like last week, there's nobody out here but you and the dumpster. And Tim.

Involuntarily, you glance up at the rooftops that loom above.

"I saw Red Robin here last week," you say absentmindedly, turning back to look at Tim.

"Oh really?" He clears his throat, following your gaze. "Was he, like... up there?"

"You don't seem particularly excited."

"Well, I mean... it's just Red Robin?"

You gape at him. "Just Red Robin? Tim, he's cool as fuck."

"He's literally just another Robin. There's been, what, like... five?"

"Three," you correct, walking back over to Tim, "And he's literally a superhero."

"Sidekick."

You laugh out loud. "What, you got beef with him?"

"No," Tim protests, a flush crawling up his cheeks. "He's just no Batman, is all."

"He's not supposed to be Batman. That's his whole thing. He's Robin, and he's cool as fuck," you reply, leaving no room for argument. You lean against the brick wall, gazing up at the clouded sky. "...Think he's out there somewhere?"

"Maybe."

You glance at Tim, but he's already staring at you.

"You look... really pretty tonight," he murmurs.

Your cheeks prickle with heat. "Thanks. You, ah, look good too."

At that moment, it hits you that you're alone with Tim Drake Wayne, the guy you're pining over, and that he's just called you pretty. A smile tugs as your lips. Red Robin hit on you in this very alleyway, and now Tim is hitting on you, too, and your confidence surges.

"Um, actually," you say, looking at Tim, "There's something I've been meaning to tell you--"

BANG!

A gasp dies in your throat as a couple stumbles through the back door. They're attached at the lips and deserving of an NC-17 rating. Your shock is quickly replaced with amusement (and, albeit, a healthy level of disgust) and you laugh in shock, your heart still pounding in your throat. The door rattles on its hinges, freshly scraped up from being slammed against the wall.

"Holy shit," you exhale. Only then do you notice that Tim pushed you behind him: an arm is protectively flung out in front of you, the other hand is pulling something out of his pocket. His thumb and forefinger are pinched around a small, sharp-looking object--it's black, it glints in the light, you don't know what it is. He stuffs it back into his jeans, huffing out a sigh of relief.

"Hey, you okay?" Tim asks, turning back around to face you.

"Fine." You nod. "Startled... but, uh, fine."

"Good," he says, eyes still tracking the couple. "Anyways. You were saying?"

There's a muffled moan from the other end of the alley.

"Another time," you say, grabbing Tim and pulling him inside before either of you see more than you want to.

As you rejoin the group, you wonder distantly what he was holding. A knife, maybe? But Tim's dead last on your list of people who'd walk around Gotham carrying a weapon. Then again, his net worth is staggeringly high, so maybe he does carry something...?

If you didn't know better, you'd say he acted like a vigilante.

You're not sure what to think.

But the bar's loud music leaves no room for thought, and you push your musings to the back of your mind. You're having fun with your friends, Tim called you pretty, and you just had the shit scared out of you by strangers--tonight's been eventful as is, so it looks like your detective work will just have to wait.

[chuuyasheaven]

I will give you real money to not have dazai saying bella or donna or belladonna . [makes out with you]

♡ Everything for you, my love. ♡

Tags: Dazai Osamu / afab! Reader, birthday sex, pet names (darling, princess, pretty[girl]), praising, lingerie, soft but rough sex?, overstimulation?, pw/op (idk, maybe some plot?), ooc! Dazai?, fingering, orgasm denial (only once), slight teasing?, might contain grammar errors, a bit rushed?, might be short, etc.

Notes: Funfact! When i first started writing, i DESPISED using "belladonna" as a pet name !! But since I listen to my followers, I'll try not to use it this time to see if i stop at all. So, since my birthday was a week ago (17th November), I wanna write this !! Don't worry, there's DEFINITELY gonna be a Chuuya version !! :3

"Are you done yet?", Dazai asked impatiently. "Yeah,", you responded shyly, walking out of the bathroom. Dazai's analyzed your whole body with the lingerie he brought for your birthday, smirking at you. "Look at how pretty you look, darling.", he exclaimed charmingly. "T–thanks, Dazai.", you quietly respond again. You walked closer towards him with flushed cheeks. "How about you give me a quick twirl, hm?", you nodded before spinning for him, showing your dark–red laced lingerie to him. After showing off, Dazai grabbed your hand and pulled you onto his lap. Landing on him with your hands on his chest, he looked at your surprised face before chuckling softly.

His hand made it's way to your chin, holding it gently before moving closer to your face. Being inches away from your face, he crashed his lips against yours, the kiss starting passionately until it turned into a make out session. You threw your arms around his neck, pulling yourself closer to his chest. Separating for air, he looked into your eyes while popping the question. "Do you want me to prepare you first?", you take a few seconds to think before nodding. Dazai's hand left your chin, sliding down your body until it reached your dark–red laced panties waistband. His fingers slid even further down, pushing your panties to the side to let his fingers slide inside you.

You whimpered quietly as two of his fingers entered your cunt. Dazai started to move them inside you, in ways he knew would make you melt. He knew what he was doing, hitting your sensitive spots multiple times. Into fingering you, the pleasure you felt had you get weaker, leaning onto him. "A–ah. . Dazai. .", you moaned quietly. Even though you couldn't see his face, you knew that he was smirking. You got closer as this went on, and Dazai could obviously tell by the way you clenched around his fingers. But before that— yes, you guessed it— he pulled his fingers out of you, leaving you to whine. "Don't worry, princess, you'll get to cum. In fact, lay down onto the bed for me, alright?", you got up while Dazai stood up himself.

"Would you look at that,", just laying down, you look at where his finger pointed, a stain from your slick on his pants. "My pants have to go anyways.", Dazai said before unbuckling his belt, looking at the beautiful sight in front of him. With his pants off, his boxers slid down his legs, lastly his shirt was removed. Dazai got closer to you by hovering over you, pressing a small kiss against your lips. "Ready?", he asked you waiting for an answer, you nodded again. "With words, princess,", ". . Yes, Dazai!", you responded. Dazai rubbed his dick a few times before going in slowly. You moaned while he went inside, Dazai himself started to groan at the feeling. "F–fuck, you're so. .,", Dazai choked on his own words when he was fully inside. "Tell me when to move, darling–", he barely finished his sentence before you interrupted him. "N–now, please!!", you tell him.

You didn't have to tell him twice, once you gave him permission, he moved. As Dazai thrusted into your desperate cunt, your arms were thrown over his neck again. Soon the room smelled like sex, skin clapping and moans being the sound being heard. "You're doing s–so good— fuck. . ,", you moaned again, the feeling overwhelming you slightly. Dazai got faster, wanting to chase both of your orgasms. "F–feels good. .", you were able to say, Dazai lifting your leg a little to hit deeper. "Yeah? Keep being such a good girl for me, alright, pretty?", soon enough, your climax was getting closer, your moans getting louder. "D–dazai, 'm close. .", you manage to tell him. "My pretty girl's close? You wanna cum, don't you?", he teased even though he knew you needed to cum. With this information, Dazai sped up his thrusts again. It only took a few more until you clenched and came around him. When you did, Dazai came into you with a grunt, not pulling out yet.

"—Another round, birthday girl?"

CHUUYA VER IS BEING WRITTEN NOW !!!

RANDOM TAGS: @soukokulatte, @rxyyyyy, @kk-oma !!

[newobsessionweekly]

Diamonds and dreams

Tim Bradford x Buckley!reader

Crossover The Rookie x 911

Fandoms: The Rookie, 911

Summary: Tim teams up with your brother, Buck, to plan the proposal. You get hurt in the process, unintentionally, but it's for a good cause.

A/N: Another crossover, and I don't think I'll stop here. I love so much both Tim and Buck. Anyways, I hope you enjoy this and I'm open for requests! I'm sorry if I made some mistakes while writing, english is not my first language, but I'm trying to improve. Thank you so much for your support so far. Take care of yourselves, bubs! I appreciate everything single one of you! Lots of love! ❤️

Warnings: Swearing ? Maybe. Bunch of fluff and banter anyways. Not proofread yet

Fluff | A bit of angst

Requested: No

Words: 4.9k

Requests are open for Tim and Buck.

GIF not mine, credits to the owner.

For the past three years, your life took unexpected twists, one after one. You didn't know back then how impactful a police officer doing his job would be to your life. You never expected to fall for the all-so-serious officer, whose indignation spoke volumes in the presence of firefighters.

Tim had only one opinion about the other branch of first responders — reckless, not so sharp, and definitely idiots, but they mean well. That was before meeting you.

After a massive earthquake hit LA, the chaos that followed can't be described. People running around looking for the close ones, screaming, and a lot of pain. LAPD was sent on the streets to maintain order while LAFD rushed to rescue everyone in need. They were hand in hand and, for the first time in his life, Tim was following the orders of a firefighter— you.

He complained at first, but when he understood you were more than a reckless woman, he obeyed. Back then, Tim saw in you a seriousness that made him eat his words. The way you pushed yourself aside for the safety of the civilians, the way you disobeyed the book in a risky situation, questioning everything you knew for the people. You allowed him to help, and he was there by your side the whole time, mesmerised by the way you gave everything you had, pushed away any fear and doubts and crawled into wrecked precincts to save every single one of them.

There was a huge difference between the two branches of first responders. LAPD was trained to save the law, maintain order, protect the vulnerable and punish the guilty, while LAFD was trained to protect and save regarding the guilty and they've seen unimaginable things, making them aware the life is short and you need to cherish it every second.

And when you showed him that ugly side of your job, Tim never saw you the same again. Drawn by your determination and dedication to save every soul and by your love and beauty you carried around, he fell for you, hard.

But he never accepted the real dangers of your job. Actually, he never accepted that your dedication was so profound, that you'd give your life to save another without second thoughts. He couldn't bare the thought of losing you some day due to your 'dedication'.

You’re both standing in the middle of the living room, the air thick with tension that’s been building for weeks. Tonight’s argument was inevitable, ignited by the underlying fear and frustration that’s been simmering beneath the surface.

Tim’s heart pounds in his chest as he looks at you, his concern turning into frustration. He knows that firefighting is dangerous, but seeing you take unnecessary risks feels like a constant weight on his shoulders.

“Damn it, Y/N!” he exclaims, his voice loud and filled with anger. “You can’t keep ignoring orders and putting yourself in danger! You’re a firefighter, not a one-woman hero team!”

You clench your fists, feeling defensive, his words sounding like an accusation. “I know what I’m doing, Tim. Sometimes you have to take risks to save lives.”

“Fire isn’t something predictable,” Tim interjects, his voice firm. “When you're dealing with an armed suspect, you can see the next move in his eyes. But with fire? It's nothing like that and, when it happens, it's probably too late."

His words cut deep, and tears fill your eyes as you try to make him understand. You feel misunderstood, judged, and it hurts.

“Predictable or not, I trust my instincts,” you shoot back, your voice shaking. “Sometimes you have to go with your gut, Tim, not just follow orders blindly.”

"But at what cost?” Tim retorts, his face flushed with frustration. “How many times do we have to argue about this before you realize that you’re not invincible?”

Your eyes fill with tears, the weight of his words hitting you hard. “I’m not saying I’m invincible,” you reply, tears streaming down your face. “I just believe in doing whatever it takes to save lives, even if it means bending the rules sometimes.”

“Bending the rules?” Tim’s voice cracks, hurt evident in his expression. “Y/N, this isn’t a game. Lives are at stake, including yours!”

You’re openly crying now, the tears blurring your vision as you try to make him understand. “I need you to trust me, Tim. Trust that I know what I’m doing.”

“I need to be able to trust that you’ll come home safely,” Tim says, his voice softer now, filled with genuine concern. “I can’t keep worrying every time you’re on shift, wondering if you’re going to make it home in one piece.”

"But this is who I am, Tim. I can’t change that.”

Tim’s thoughts swirl with a mix of love, fear, and frustration as he watches you, torn between wanting to protect you and knowing he can’t control your choices. “I need some time to think,” he finally says, his voice filled with resignation.

Without another word, you grab your bag and head for the door, leaving Tim standing alone in the living room, his face a mask of regret and worry. As you make your way to Lucy’s apartment, the weight of the argument pressing down on you, you can’t shake the feeling that something has changed between you and Tim, something that might be impossible to repair.

You stand before Lucy’s door, eyes red-rimmed and cheeks streaked with tears. With a shaky breath, you knock softly as your heart is pounding in your chest. The door swings open to reveal Lucy’s shocked face, her eyes widening at your disheveled appearance.

“Y/N? What the hell happened?” Lucy’s voice is filled with concern as she wraps you in a comforting embrace, feeling the tension in your body.

Tamara rushes in, eyes wide with worry. "Are you okay?”

As Lucy's comforting embrace envelops you, a mixture of relief and despair washes over you. You lean into her warmth, grateful for the solace she provides amidst the chaos of your emotions. Tamara's worried expression only adds to the weight of the situation, highlighting the gravity of the rift between you and Tim.

"I’m so sorry,” you stammer, tears threatening anew. “I didn’t know where else to go. I can't go to Buck like this and –"”

Lucy steps back, creating space for you to enter, "You're always welcome here, Y/N. You know that."

Lucy leads you to the couch and wraps her arm around your shoulders as you found a small measure of comfort in her presence. The unspoken understanding between you eases some of the ache in your heart, reminding you that you're not alone in this struggle.

Tamara places a comforting hand on your knee, her eyes filled with empathy as Lucy spoke, “Come on, tell us what happened."

You take a shaky breath, trying to steady your voice as you recount the intense argument with Tim. “We had a fight, a really bad one. He said he needed some time to think.”

Your love for Tim is boundless, a deep-rooted connection that fills your heart with warmth and joy. Every moment spent with him is a treasure, each shared smile and whispered promise a testament to the depth of your affection. And being so far from him, it was a nightmare. Leaving so abruptly, both of your anger and frustration bottled inside, this tore you apart.

Tamara’s eyes narrow, her tone incredulous. “Tim said that? What could possibly have happened?”

“He thinks I’m reckless, that I put myself and my team in danger,” you explain, the sting of his words still fresh in your mind.

The pain of your fight weighs heavily on your soul, a sharp ache that refuses to fade. His words cut deep, leaving you reeling with a sense of loss and betrayal. The thought of losing him, of facing a future without his love, is almost unbearable.

Lucy shakes her head, her eyes filled with empathy. “Tim’s always been by-the-book. He values rules and order. But being a firefighter isn’t always black and white.”

You nod, wiping away tears with the back of your hand. “Exactly. But he just won't listen.”

Lucy sighs, her eyes softening with understanding. “Tim loves you. He’s just scared. Scared of losing you.” She can see the pain in your eyes, the uncertainty about the future of your relationship.

“I know,” you sniffle, trying to hold back the tears. “But it’s not just about him being scared. It’s about understanding who I am and what I do.”

Tamara nods, her expression thoughtful. “Sometimes love isn’t enough, Y/N. Sometimes two people can love each other deeply but still be incompatible in some ways.”

“I don’t want to lose him,” you say, feeling the weight of her words. “But I also don’t want to lose myself.” You grapple with the conflicting emotions, torn between love and self-respect.

Lucy chuckles softly, trying to lighten the mood. She stands up, heading to the kitchen to prepare some tea. “You won't lose him. He’s stubborn as hell, but he loves you. You know that."

Tamara smirks, leaning back on the couch. “Well, men are from Mars, right? We’ll never fully understand them.”

Lucy laughs, raising her hands in mock surrender. “True that. But hey, if anyone can knock some sense into Tim, it’s you, Y/N.”

Tamara smirks, her eyes twinkling with mischief as she leans back on the couch. “You know, Y/N, I like you more and more. Just so you know, everything you’ve said tonight will be used against Tim tomorrow.” She winks playfully, a mischievous grin spreading across her face. “Lucy’s going to make his shift a living hell.”

Lucy chuckles, her eyes dancing with amusement. “Oh, you bet I will. He won’t know what hit him.” She laughs, the tension in the room further dissipating with their playful banter.

You can’t help but laugh along with them, grateful for the light-hearted moment amidst the emotional chaos. “Just promise me you’ll go easy on him. He’s still my guy, after all.”

Yet, even in the midst of your despair, your love for him remains steadfast. It is a beacon of hope in the darkness, a guiding light that keeps you tethered to him, even when the distance between you feels insurmountable.

Tamara raises an eyebrow, her grin widening. “No promises,” Lucy says with a playful shrug.

You shake your head, chuckling at their antics. “Alright, alright. Just remember, I’ll have to deal with him after you two are done.”

After a moment of silence, Tamara's face brightens, an idea forming. “You know what we need? A girls’ night. We could all use a little distraction, right?”

Lucy grins, nodding in agreement. “Absolutely. Some wine, some movies, and some girl talk. It’s just what the doctor ordered.”

You smile weakly, grateful for their support. “That sounds nice.”

Meanwhile, across town, Tim and Buck find themselves in the comfort of Tim's living room. With beers in hand and the soft glow of the TV providing background noise, both men seem to have left the weight of the day behind them, engrossed in their own world of laughter and banter.

But Tim's thoughts are consumed by the image of you, tears staining your cheeks as you walked out the door. Each memory of your tearful departure cuts him deeply, a sharp pang of guilt and sorrow gnawing at his heart.

Buck takes a swig of his beer, glancing over at him with a curious expression. “So, how did the fight go?”

Tim sighs, running a hand through his hair. "I think I overstepped a little. She was crying and she left. It broke me to see her like that and let her go."

Seeing you hurt because of him breaks him in ways he never imagined. He would give anything to erase the hurt he's caused, to mend the fractures in your relationship. But he knows that sometimes love requires sacrifice, even if it means bearing the weight of your pain.

Buck nods understandingly, setting his beer down on the coffee table. "It's all part of the plan, Tim. We knew it would be tough, but it's for the best." He tries to reassure Tim, understanding the struggle his friend is going through.

Tim looks at Buck, gratitude in his eyes. "I know, I know. It's just hard, you know? Seeing her hurt and knowing I'm the cause of it, even if it's for a good reason."

Buck places a comforting hand on Tim's shoulder. "At least this will buy us some time. Where's she now?"

Tim smiles slightly, the tension easing from his shoulders. "At Lucy's. She texted me when Y/N got there. She'll be crashing on Lucy's couch."

Buck chuckles, picking up his beer again. "Good, at least she's safe. Lucy will take care of her. She always does."

Tim nods, a grateful smile tugging at his lips. "Yeah, Lucy's been great. I'm glad she's there for Y/N."

The two men sit in companionable silence for a moment, the weight of their secret plan hanging in the air between them. It's a plan born out of love and a desire to create the perfect proposal for you, but it comes with its own set of challenges and emotions.

Buck's voice is filled with excitement. "You know, once all of this is over, and you've proposed, it's going to be amazing. Y/N is going to be over the moon."

Tim smiles, the vision of his future with you filling his mind. "I know, Buck. I can't wait to make her my wife."

Amidst the pain, there's a profound love that anchors him, a love so deep it eclipses the darkness of your current strife. You're more than just his partner; you're his rock, his solace, his reason for waking up each day with a smile. Your laughter brightens his darkest moments, your touch soothes his weary soul, and your presence fills his life with a sense of purpose and joy he never thought possible.

The two men raise their beers in a toast, their smiles reflecting the hope and love that fills their hearts.

Tim glances over at Lucy, his voice filled with concern. "How's Y/N holding up? I haven't heard from her since that night."

He can't shake the self-loathing that grips him, the regret for letting things escalate to this point.

Lucy raises an eyebrow, a playful smirk on her lips. "A bit pissed at you, but she's safe."

"I hate myself for that. I really don't like this whole...situation. Especially letting her go and forcing her to sleep on your couch."

He never wanted to hurt you, never intended for things to unravel like this. And the idea of you sleeping on Lucy's couch, away from him, fills him with a sense of emptiness he can't bear.

She chuckles softly, her tone teasing. "You could've called, you know. Women like that kind of thing."

Tim lets out a sigh, a sheepish smile tugging at his lips. "Yeah, I figured as much. I just thought... well, some space might be good."

Lucy's teasing only adds to his discomfort, her playful jabs hitting a little too close to home. He knows he should have done a lot of things, but fear and uncertainty held him back, clouding his judgment with doubt.

Lucy raises an eyebrow, “Space, huh? Sounds like a classic Bradford move. But you might want to pick up the phone. Y/N deserves to know you’re not pushing her away.”

Tim chuckles, shaking his head. "Trust me, I plan to. I just needed some time to... you know, plan everything out, to get it right."

Lucy grins, her eyes twinkling with mischief. "But you better make this worth it, you hear me?" She nudges him playfully. "And soon. She might love you and might be willing to wait for you, but don't test her patience."

Tim smiles, gratitude evident in his gaze. "I will, Lucy. And thanks, for everything."

Lucy waves him off with a chuckle. "Don't mention it. Just remember to thank me after she says yes." She winks at him, her smile warm and supportive.

You've been camping on the girls' couch for the past three days. It wasn't all that bad; some time off work was just what you needed, and your fight with Tim allowed you to sort through some old stuff.

When you were about to drift off to sleep again, Lucy burst into the living room. "Alright, couch potato, time to get up!”

You groaned, pulling a pillow over your face. “Five more minutes, Lucy.”

With a chuckle, Lucy yanked the pillow away and extended her hand. “Come on, Y/N. It’s time to get some fresh air. You can’t stay on my couch forever.”

Reluctantly, you accepted Lucy’s help to sit up. “What happened to ‘you’re always welcome here’? My free stay at Hotel Lucy is over?”

Lucy laughed. “Exactly. It’s check-out time, Missy.”

You smirked, slipping on your sneakers. "Well, send the bill to Bradford; he's the only one at fault for this."

With her keys in hand, Lucy grinned. “How about a ride along? A little patrol action might be good for you.”

Raising an eyebrow teasingly, you countered, “Trying to get rid of me, Lucy?”

She chuckled. “Just trying to help you get some fresh air. And maybe a little distraction.”

As you reluctantly rose from the comfort of Lucy's couch, a whirlwind of emotions churned within you. The past few days had been a rollercoaster of hurt, confusion, and a desperate longing to mend things with Tim. But amidst the chaos, there was a glimmer of hope – hope that today could mark the beginning of reconciliation, of healing the wounds that had torn you apart.

“Alright, alright. But only because I’m craving some fresh, questionable coffee from the station.”

“Deal. But you’re buying the donuts!” Lucy teased.

“Deal. But only if they have sprinkles.”

Suddenly, Lucy stopped and appraised you, shaking her head. “Oh no, no. You can’t possibly leave the house like that. Off to the shower with you, you’re starting to smell like my couch.”

Stepping into the shower, the warm water washing away the remnants of doubt and insecurity as you made a silent vow to yourself. Today would be the beginning of a new chapter for you both, a chance to rebuild what had been broken and to forge a stronger, more resilient bond.

You returned to find some of your clothes laid out on the couch, courtesy of Lucy and Tamara. Raising an eyebrow, you turned to Lucy. “Don’t you think that’s a little bit extra?”

It wasn't exactly what you'd wear for patrolling, but considering Tim probably handed them to Lucy, you couldn't really complain.

Just then, Tamara emerged from her bedroom with a smirk. “You should be thankful I didn’t pick the outfit.”

You chuckled, wondering why she wasn’t at school. “Fair enough. Shouldn’t you be at school by now?”

Tamara waved it off, pulling out her makeup kit. “I’ll miss the first period to do your makeup. You owe me.”

Sighing, you looked between Lucy and Tamara. “Come on, girls. It’s just a day of patrolling. Nothing special.”

Lucy shook her head, her eyes serious. “No, hun. Today you’ll be right next to Tim. Breathing in his neck. You need to show him what he’s missing.”

The engine's soft hum reverberates through the car as Tim navigates the streets, the tension inside as thick as the fog rolling in from the bay. Lucy rides shotgun, her mischievous glances back at you adding to the palpable unease. Seated in the back, you stare out the window, attempting to distract yourself with the passing scenery, anything to escape the suffocating silence.

Lucy's voice cuts through the tension like a knife, her cheeriness a stark contrast to the heavy atmosphere. "Hey, Bradford," she chirps. "How about we make a quick stop for some coffee and donuts? My treat."

Tim's eyes flicker to the rearview mirror, briefly meeting yours before he nods. "Sure, sounds good."

Pulling into a local coffee shop's parking lot, Lucy practically leaps out of the car, leaving you and Tim alone for a fleeting moment.

"You could've called," you murmur softly, finally breaking the suffocating silence. "Three days, Tim."

Tim's grip tightens on the steering wheel, his knuckles turning white. "I know, Y/N. I'm sorry. It's... it's complicated."

Before you can delve deeper, Lucy returns with a tray laden with coffee and a box of donuts. She hands you a cup before settling into her seat, her eyes glinting with an inscrutable knowingness.

As Tim lifts his coffee to his lips, you notice the slight tremble in his hand. "Everything okay, Tim?" Lucy inquires, her innocence a thin veil over her ulterior motives.

Tim clears his throat, averting his gaze. "Yeah, just a bit tired, I guess."

Lucy's smirk is unmistakable as she reaches for a donut. "Well, these should help with that."

Taking a sip of your coffee, you feel its warmth spreading through you, but it does little to dispel the tension in the air. However, there's a shift—a subtle change in the atmosphere. The silence is no longer suffocating; instead, it's pregnant with anticipation, each breath heavy with unspoken words.

Finally, Tim speaks, his voice laced with vulnerability. "Y/N, about the fight... I never meant to hurt you. I just needed some time to sort things out."

You meet his gaze, the sincerity in his eyes tugging at something deep within you. There's a weight to his words, a heaviness that speaks volumes about the distress he's been wrestling with.

As the shop continues its journey, the tension remains, but it's tempered now by a sense of curiosity and cautious hope. Unbeknownst to you, Tim's anxiety isn't solely about your relationship, and Lucy's scheming grin betrays her satisfaction with how her plan is unfolding.

Throughout the day, Tim's behavior had been perplexing, he carefully avoided any calls that hinted at danger. It felt as though he was intentionally shielding you from harm, a protective barrier wrapped around you even as you yearned for the adrenaline rush of the job.

But the tranquility of the day shattered with Nolan's urgent call for backup. The gravity of the situation hit you like a sledgehammer, sending a jolt of adrenaline coursing through your veins.

“Dispatch, this is Officer Nolan, requesting backup at my location. Officers under fire, need immediate assistance,” Nolan’s voice is clear and urgent.

Without hesitation, Tim accepts the call, urgency in his voice for the first time that day. “Roger that, Nolan. We’re en route.”

Tim accelerates towards the scene, the Griffith Observatory coming into view. The iconic building stands majestically atop the hill, its silhouette against the clear blue sky adding a surreal beauty to the unfolding situation.

As you arrived on the scene, the deafening sound of gunfire filled the air, drowning out any semblance of normalcy. Lucy and Tim sprang into action, their movements swift and purposeful as they navigated the chaos.

"Stay in the car, Y/N!" Tim's command pierced through the chaos, his tone leaving no room for debate.

But as you sat there, the abrupt silence that followed sent a chill down your spine. Lucy's panicked cry for Tim shattered the stillness, sending your heart into overdrive, “Bradford!”

Ignoring Tim's orders, you bolted from the shop, desperation fuelling your every step. The scene before you was a tableau of chaos and confusion, the beauty of the Observatory juxtaposed against the violence that unfolded within its walls.

You searched frantically for any sign of Tim or Lucy, all you found was Tim's abandoned radio, a silent witness to the turmoil that had unfolded.

The setting sun cast long shadows, casting an eerie glow over the scene, a reminder of the fragility of life in the face of danger. And the tension is electric, like the calm before a storm. Tim’s voice crackles through the radio, cutting through the silence.

“Y/N Buckley, can you hear me?"

Tim's heart races with anticipation as he waits for your response. He's nervous, hoping that you'll hear him clearly. He wonders if you'll be able to sense the nerves in his voice, hoping that you'll understand the significance of what he's about to do.

Grinning, you grab the radio. “Loud and clear, Bradford” you replied, your voice steady but your pulse quickening with each passing second.

A pause stretches out, thick with anticipation. “Close your eyes, Buckley. And this time, try not to defy a direct order.”

Rolling your eyes but intrigued, you humor him and shut your eyes, taking a deep breath of the crisp air, feeling a rush of excitement coursing through your veins. You focused on the sound of Tim's voice, letting it wash over you like a warm embrace as he began to speak.

"You and I, Y/N, we’re a wild ride,” Tim starts, his voice unexpectedly tender. “Who would’ve thought our journey would lead us here, to this crazy, beautiful moment?”

As Tim's voice crackled through the radio, a surge of nervous energy swept through him. He had rehearsed his words a thousand times in his mind, but now that the moment was upon him, he couldn't help but feel a pang of doubt.

The weight of the ring in his hand served as a reminder of the gravity of the situation, filling him with both excitement and trepidation.

A soft touch grazes your hand, sending a thrill up your spine. Your heart pounds in your chest.

“You challenge me, drive me nuts, and somehow make me a better man,” he continues through the radio, a hint of a smile in his voice. “And damn it, I love you for it.”

You can’t help but smile, a warmth spreading through you. As you listen, you feel tears prickling at the corners of your closed eyes. Tim's words resonate with you, stirring something within yourself that you can't quite put into words.

You want to open your eyes, to see the man you love more clearly, but you also want to savor this moment a little while longer.With each word, you feel your heart swell with love for Tim. His vulnerability, his honesty, it all takes your breath away, leaving you utterly captivated.

"Open your eyes, sweetheart," Tim's voice breaks through your reverie, pulling you back to the present moment.

With a flutter of excitement, you obey, slowly parting your eyelids to reveal the sight before you. There is Tim, his eyes filled with love and longing as he slowly kneels down before your eyes, a small velvet box in his hand. The sight of him, vulnerable and trembling, fills you with a sense of awe and gratitude as the setting sun casts a golden halo around him, the cityscape stretching out behind him in a breathtaking panorama.

Tears of joy well in your eyes as you take in the sight of the ring in his hand, your heart overflowing with love for the man who means the world to you.

“Y/N Buckley,” Tim’s voice wavers just a bit, “will you marry me?”

For a moment, you are stunned into silence, your mind reeling with the weight of his question. You feel a surge of emotion welling up inside, threatening to spill over at any moment. This is it, the moment you've been dreaming of, the moment you've been waiting for since you laid eyes on Tim, few years back.

Tim chuckles, a nervous but endearing laugh. “I’ll take that as a yes?”

"Yes, Tim. A thousand times, yes!" your voice choked with tears, as your words ring out into the night, a declaration of love and commitment that echoes through the air.

With a trembling hand, Tim slips the ring onto your finger, sealing their promise with a simple yet profound gesture. As your eyes meet once more, you share a moment of perfect understanding, a silent acknowledgment of the love that binds you together.

Without another word, you're in each other's arms, holding onto each other tightly as if trying to make up for all the time you've lost. In that moment, nothing else matters but the overwhelming love you share, a love that has weathered every storm and emerged stronger than ever before.

Tim's lips meet yours in a tender kiss, a sweet yet passionate embrace that speaks volumes more than words ever could. You cling to each other, lost in the intensity of your emotions, your hearts beating as one in the darkness.

As you pull away, breathless and flushed with emotion, you share a smile that lights up the night. In each other's arms, you find solace and strength, knowing that no matter what the future holds, you'll face it together, hand in hand, heart to heart.

Nolan chimes in through the radio, his voice filled with laughter. "Bradford, are we breaking out the champagne or what?"

Tim's smile widens at Nolan's words, and he glances over at you with a playful twinkle in his eye. "Hold off on the champagne, Nolan," he replies, unable to suppress a laugh. "She said yes."

Murmuring softly, Tim leaned in close to your ear. "I guess I didn’t mess this one up, huh?"

You chuckled softly, leaning into his embrace. "Not this time, Bradford."

[sourcherryandsprinkles]

Can I please request a Jeremiah x reader smut where it’s both of their first times! Smut but also cute and fluffy! Thank you ♥️

This is my first time writing for Jeremiah, please be nice. While I like him in the show - I am not team Jeremiah though -, I find him difficult to write about, so idk if I'll keep him on my list...

my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time

—

When it comes to losing your virginity, you've always wanted to wait for the right moment to do it. Maybe it was watching rom-coms and reading hundreds of romances that implanted this vision in your mind, or maybe it was just you wanting to make that big moment perfect, knowing you could never re-do it if you jinxed it…or worse, regret it.

‘’I have not,’’ Belly confessed quietly, shaking her head. ‘’Cam and I went on our third date. It’s way too early.’’ She picked at a loose thread on her shorts, not exactly comfortable talking about sex but feeling comfortable enough to talk about it with you. ‘’Have you and Jere..?’’

‘’No,’’ you said, excluding the other things you and Jeremiah had done that weren’t full-on penetrative sex. ‘’But we are thinking about it.’’

Belly’s attention snapped up. ‘’Oh?’’

You nodded, a light flush tinted your cheeks.

‘’Are you nervous?’’

You nodded again.

So many things could go wrong even if you make sure everything is perfect. You also heard some girls say it hurt the first time and that they bled, which scared you a little.

Belly grabbed your hand, pulling you from your thoughts. ‘’I may not know anything about sex, but what I know is that it’s Jeremiah. He loves you. There’s nothing to be nervous about,’’ she assured you.

A few weeks later, the day finally came.

Your mom was out at her book club meeting and your dad was at the country club, leaving the house to yourself for a few hours. Taking advantage of their absence, you texted Jeremiah to come over…and to bring the condoms.

It was bold and definitely had him grinning on his couch at home before making up an excuse to ditch Steven at video games and shower and get ready for the big event.

While Jeremiah was getting ready, you did the same. You put on matching bra and underwear, gave your hair an extra brush and spritzed yourself with Jeremiah’s favorite perfume of yours, lit some candles for ambiance although it was burning hot outside. You made sure everything was perfect.

Except it wasn’t perfect. 

Right when Jeremiah unhooked your bra, his phone started blaring loudly and wouldn't stop. After the fifth ring, Jeremiah answered and left, needing to pick up his mother at the country club. He said he could come back after, but the moment was already ruined.

By some miracle, you were presented another perfect opportunity a few days later.

Susannah was out with Belly and Laurel for a debutante dress fitting, Conrad was at the beach surfing, and Steven was with Shayla.

You and Jeremiah were having a swim in his pool to cool down from the sun. Summer was beautiful, but the heat was too much sometimes. Thankfully, Jeremiah had a nice pool, which you loved to take advantage of. As always, playful splashing turned into kissing and soon enough, you were making out.

You moved things upstairs to Jeremiah’s room for more privacy, and also because didn’t want your first time to be in a pool or on the Fisher’ back porch. 

‘’Careful!’’ Jeremiah reminded as the two of you hurried upstairs, leaving water all over the floors despite being wrapped in a towel. ‘’The floors are slippery when we—’’ 

You caught his arm in time before he could slip and fall, sending the two of you in a fit of laughter. The fun was interrupted when he backed you against the wall and kissed you in the hallway. You melted against him and let your towel drop. 

Jeremiah brought you to his bed, not caring about the wet patched your wet baiting suits would leave behind. It's not like you were going to keep them on for very long. 

Hands were all over each other's body, exploring and grabbing while you were kissing with desire. You undid the ties of your bikini, chucking it on the floor, then moved to your bottoms. Your whole body was on fire under Jeremiah's touch — you needed it all off. 

You reached for Jeremiah's shorts, helping him out because it was harder to take off when wet...and horny, but that's when Steven decided to walk in like he owned the place, catching sight of Jeremiah's bare ass. 

For the rest of the summer, you weren't able to find a good moment. Jeremiah was either working at the country club's pool, or someone was home. You could have snuck to an empty bedroom at a party, but a stranger's bedroom was nothing romantic for a first time. 

You were starting to get impatient so, one night he was supposed to drive you home, you made him pull over and stop the car. It was dumb and had high risks of getting caught, but you didn't care. 

‘’Are you sure?'' Jeremiah asked, seeing you pull your dress over your head. ''We don’t have to if you don’t.’’

You shook your head, looking right into his beautiful blue eyes. ‘’You’re my best friend, Jere. I want it to be you. I want it to be now.’’ 

—

All and more taglist: @spiokybirdstarfish @kenqki @liidiaaag @hawkegfs  @gillybear17  @areaderinlove @acornacreacure @black-rose-29 @fudge13 @cece05 @rosie-cameron @Caxddce @laylasbunbunny @gemofthenight @beautyb1ade  @hi-bored-as-fcuk-rn  @lovelyy-moonlight @mellabella101 @vxnity713  @marzipaanz  @bisexualgirlsblog @queenofslytherin889 @thatbxtchesblog @softb-tterfly @ethanlandrycanbreakmyheart  @xyzstar  @graceberman3  @Heartsforneteyamsully  @aerangi  @hallecarey1

TSITP taglist: @msmarvelknight  @maritaleane @dingus0401 @idontknowwhatimdoing777

[dangerkittenclaws]

Are your requests still open? I’d love a fic where the (AFAB) reader is in a situation where she’s forced to share a bed with Vessel (maybe she’s a musician who’s touring with ST and the hotel is short on rooms? lol I know it’s super cliche) and in the middle of the night he wakes her up by initiating sex? 🥰

This was so fun to write, thank you!! And thank you for being my first request/ask, I'll never forget it! Sorry it took me a hot second to finish. To be honest, I feel I got a tad carried away but I hope I did our lean bean of a man justice! <3

vessel x f!band!reader

warnings: smut MDNI +18

You were waiting in the lobby of the hotel your tour agent had booked, spinning your luggage case lazily by its extended handle. The staff had been frantic as your large group entered the building.

 IV was at the counter talking to the man who was clicking desperately at his computer. Something clearly was wrong with the reservation, but you were so tired that you really didn't care, you just wanted to slide into a cozy bed and sleep like the dead. It had been a long day, not including the show tonight and piling into a van afterwards. 

Two of your best friends and bandmates, Alexis and Maggie were sitting on one of the lobby couches quietly showing memes to II. Vessel, III, and Liv, your bassist, were sitting on the bench right next to them. You all had gotten to know each other fairly well considering you inhabited a bus for numerous hours, watched each other practice, and went out to eat together. 

You had noticed Vessel staring at times the past few weeks. You didn’t particularly mind the man was checking you out, it felt good to be wanted in a genuine way. You were not opposed to something new. You had become aware of him giving you glances that were a few seconds too long, a hand grazing just a little slower, him waiting for you so he could walk with you to wherever you were going. 

And the teasing and bickering, god, it never ended. You didn't expect any different, being in close quarters with four boys and your three raunchy best friends, it was a constant war. You didn't quite know how to navigate these waters with Vessel though, it had been quite a while since your last boyfriend.

Your attention was brought back by IV walking back over to where you stood, a grimace on his face.

“Something happened to their booking system, they’re overbooked and we're going to have to share rooms until tomorrow.” 

Some sort of seniority took over his voice, “Maggie, Alexis, Liv you can share the two-queen room, II, III, and I will share the other. That leaves you and Ves with the last king room”, he said pointing between you and Vessel. 

Your eyes could’ve popped out of your head at that moment, but you schooled your expression hopefully before anyone noticed. You looked over to your bandmates and saw how Liv wanted to protest, but closed her mouth before she could say anything, knowing it was futile and everyone was too exhausted to care. It was nearing 3am and you were only spending two nights here before traveling again. 

Vessel's eyes instantly shot towards yours, a small smirk forming on his lips, his arms crossed over his chest. Those lips. 

“I guess it's you and me, then, love.” He gets up, standing to his full height before grabbing his duffel bag from beside him. The rest of the group rises and gathers their things, IV giving out key cards in silence. 

You look at your girls, bidding them goodnight with a small wave and suddenly your hands are empty. Vessel had taken it upon himself to steal your suitcase and start walking towards the elevators. 

Startled, Maggie giggles behind you at your expression. Breath leaves your mouth in a sort of sigh and laugh, and your tired legs begin to move in his direction. He is already in the elevator, keeping the door open for you. 

“Damn your long legs.” 

He turns to you once the doors shut, “I hope you have a little bit of energy left in you,” 

You look at him confused, “What do you mean?” You know what kind of tone he has, a playful, flirtatious one that makes you blush. 

“I guess you'll just have to find out, won't you?” the doors open to the new floor and he darts out, immediately walking in long strides and searching for the correct door. You try to keep up, watching him try the key card on the fifth door down the hall and entering. You walk into the blackness of the room knowing he's just in front of you. He nearly giggles as he turns on the bedside lamp and watches your face scrunch up at the sudden light. 

“You could at least warn a girl,” you yawn. Just as described, there is one large plushy looking king bed in the center of the room, a tv mounted to the wall, a little breakfast counter, and a door ajar on the other side, the bathroom. 

Vessel drops both of your bags at the end of the bed, “Okay, me first, I need a shower.” he announces. You scoff and nod anyway, both of you taking out your pajamas and toiletries you'll need to set them aside. 

Vessel puts his hand on your hip from behind you, the boldest move he’s made yet, “I’ll be quick” is all he whispers near your ear. The warmth of his hand lingers on you even though you hear the door shut. You finally breathe again, you had stood frozen for too long. Is this really happening? 

You finally search out the TV remote, finding some mind-numbing home renovation show. You watch a few minutes, zoning out entirely, before the knob of the door twists and you turn your head. Your eyebrows raise at the sight before you. 

He is a little damp, clothes in hand, the last few water droplets running down his lean torso, hair scruffy from the towel dry he did before wrapping it lowly around his waist. You almost drool before looking back up to his eyes. 

“My eyes are up here, darlin,” he smirks. You feel your entire being light up red hot before you want to implode for getting caught staring at the very… enticing area that he is putting on display. It's not like he wears those pants for no reason at shows, it leaves little to your imagination and he knows it. 

You jump up with your head down, grabbing your things and dipping into the bathroom without another word. You shower hot, needing an excuse to be as pink as you were with that fine man that you had been roomed with. Your pajamas were just an oversized Sleep Token shirt and a short pair of plaid shorts. 

After scrubbing the day off of you, you change into your pajamas before your hand hesitates at the knob. You breathe out. We are just sleeping. We aren’t even anything yet. Why am I being so dramatic about this? 

You summon all of your courage to open the door and look out to see Vessel in bed, scrolling his phone, the room only illuminated by the TV. You put your leftover toiletries and laundry on top of your bag before plugging in your phone and pulling back the covers on the other side.

Vessel looks over to you, “Come here, love”, opening his arms to you. You snuggle into his side and onto his chest, as his hand rubs up and down your back. You involuntarily let out a little sigh of relief, finally you can rest. You fall asleep like that, him holding you close and warm. 

You wake up a few hours later, having turned to your side in your sleep, one of his still around your middle and the other under your neck. 

You move slightly and become aware of something pressed against your ass. You immediately hold your breath.

You slowly breathe out, and try to inch yourself away. His arm tightens around you. Oh shit, he’s awake. 

Like he reads your nervousness, he starts to kiss along the back of your neck to the side, underneath your ear. You shiver at his warm breath. 

“Hmm, I'm sorry, I just couldn't help it with your ass backed up to me darling.” You smile and blush at his words, knowing the effect you have on him. He grinds a bit into you as his hand slowly moves towards the waistband of your shorts. 

You realize your shirt had bunched up just below your tits just as his other hand reaches up and runs through your hair, long fingers pulling just enough for your head to move back. You turn to your back when he easily grazes over your clit and you clench your thighs together. Vessel gives you a little growl in your ear and your thighs cave open as quick as your resolve. 

“I've wanted you for so long, sweet thing, and I've got you all to myself now.” His fingers move in slow, small circles over your clit and your hands go to his bicep, grabbing at him for more. You let out a small moan as you lose yourself in the feeling of warmth of both of his hands touching your body and the building starry sensation in your belly. 

You reach down towards his stomach, caressing down, trying to burn the feeling of his skin into your mind before coming into contact with the curls of his hair. You hesitate slightly and he quickly attacks your lips, like he's reading your mind again. 

You continue on to wrap your hands around his long, hard dick and begin tugging on it. He smiles against your neck and brings his other hand up under your shirt to massage your tit before pulling your nipple taut and thumbing over the hard bud forming. He does the same with the other while his fingers work their way into your wet cunt, one slender finger at a time. 

You are getting impatient now, kissing his lips and neck, sucking his soft skin into your mouth to leave your mark. He lets out a whimper before seemingly regaining control of himself. Noted for future reference. 

He slides down your body in a quick moment before licking up your slick cunt, making you nearly cry out. He tongues your entrance before making his way up to your clit and practically latches on. You claw at the bed sheets beneath you eventually finding his grown out hair to pull. You don't know if you want him to stop or if you want more, this is so much better than your own fingers. You buck up into his mouth and he locks his arm around your thighs to keep you from squirming away. That feeling in your stomach is burning. 

He makes a few deliberate swipes of his tongue in succession over your clit and he watches that you come undone beneath him. Your eyes roll back, your hips tighten, and you gasp out his name. He keeps his tongue flat against you, tasting your cum before coming up to kiss you. 

The moment you taste yourself on him is the moment you feel him press against your swollen pussy. You moan into the kiss, wanting more of him. He grabs himself to properly press his dick into you. He does it slowly, making sure you savor every inch. 

“Please, please, Vessel, please”, you beg him. 

“Please what, kitten?”, that slow devilish smirk comes back with a vengeance on his wet lips. 

“Please fuck me, I need you to fuck me.” You mumble out, embarrassed but full of anticipation. 

He thrusts into you fully, making both of you moan out curses. Ves sets a pretty quick pace but makes sure to hit the one spot inside you that makes your pussy tighten around him on every pass. He bottoms out, touching the beginning of your cervix and you see his eyes roll back. 

“God, you are better than I ever imagined.'' He reaches his hand down between the both of you to play with your clit again. This time though, your orgasm is quick to approach with him inside of you. His fingers move swiftly as you grind yourself down onto his cock to meet his every thrust. 

You are scratching down his back trying to find purchase with how full he makes you feel. Soon enough, the pool of white hot in your belly is overflowing again and he changes the angle just slightly, fucking you through your orgasm. You moan out knowing your pussy is clenching around his dick in a vice grip. Just as you cum around him, he settles deep within you and his fingers dig into your hips. His thick ropes of cum spill into you and he pulls out to leave your cunt messy. 

You open your eyes half-lidded after a moment, trying to catch your breath, “Jesus, did you… did you plan that all along?!” 

He smiles wide at you, “Which part, the room sharing or the me-getting-you-to-myself?” 

“Either?” 

“The rooms being short just happened to play into my favor, but I was plotting to get you alone this weekend, my sweet kitten.” He pecks your lips before moving to the bathroom to get a warm towel for you both. 

You sigh out as you watch him, “I didn’t know what I was missing out on, really.” 

You hear his sweet laugh as he comes back in, gently running the towel over your pussy, cleaning you up. You squirm a bit but are easily distracted by the kisses he leaves on your inner thigh. You let out a small yelp when you feel teeth graze and a quick nip before he pulls away. 

He slides in next to you again, pulling you close, “If I have it my way, you’ll be mine forever.” 

“I’d really like that,” you murmured against his chest. You feel him press his lips to the top of your head before you fall back into a satisfied dreamless sleep.

[luveline]

Not sure if I’m doing this right because I’ve never really taken part in one of these but please can I request something for zombie Steve and reader with the below prompt:

𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐛𝐨𝐲𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝'𝐬 𝐨𝐤 —send me a hurt/comfort request for any reader and any character and I'll write a ficlet, 2k or less

Maybe like, some time shortly after they started to become romantically involved or after he first calls her his gf, and Steve has a bad day and is a little short with reader and she’s worrying he’s regretting crossing that line with her but then he reassures her he’s not regretting it.

Sorry if I’m doing this wrong and no worries if you don’t like it, I just seriously love zombie Steve, especially when he’s a lil grumpy grump but always wants to make up for it afterwards 🥰

luveline's 40k party ☆ thank you for your request, you did it perfect don't worry! steve zombie!au —steve gets stressed when food is in short supply, but he cares about you more than you think. fem!reader, 2.5k

cw starving / food insecurity

"I don't think we can make it another day if we don't find something tonight." 

Steve's shoulders go rigid at your statement, backpack reflecting glaring light.. It's dark as night, the room illuminated by two twin flashlight beams. New batteries have the lights constant and consistent. It's a shame you can't live off of batteries. 

You're hungry in a way you've never been hungry before. Never. You and Steve have been starving for days. You have a pounding headache leaking down into your teeth that's made you quiet and Steve is quieter, pointing his flashlight into the next kitchen cabinet. The only thing inside is dust, motes swimming in a sea of white. 

What's worse, you're terrified to hop houses at night, because from afar, deep in the forest surrounding the residential neighbourhood you're in, you've been hearing wolves. Deep howls chasing a filling moon. 

You're so hungry you've had to risk it. 

Your head is heavy on your neck as you look up into another cabinet. "We're gonna die," you say. You can't help it —maybe it's the genuine and inescapable despair of thinking you'll die, maybe it's his recent bout of loving affection, but lately all you do is complain. 

"We're not gonna die," Steve says. 

"You don't know that." 

"Yes, I do." 

"How could you? All these houses have been stripped clean, there's nothing left–" 

"I just know, alright?" 

He slams the cabinet door shut and stalks to the other side of the kitchen. These houses are huge, rich people places with endless bedrooms and their matching ensuites. He shoves his weight into the door leading to the garage. You don't have a choice, following him in. Steve wants space but he can't have it, splitting up makes you feel sick. 

Your hands under his t-shirt, his hands on your back. An admission. I've been calling you my girlfriend in my head for weeks. 

Your Steve's girlfriend. He's your boyfriend, and he's gonna get eaten by a zombie in a garage in the middle of nowhere suburbia and you'll be all alone without him. 

"Steve," you say, irritated. The garage is even darker than the kitchen, no windows for moonlight to crawl inside. He's turned his torch to the storage bins behind a black, sleek car. 

"What?" he asks, using the brunt of his palm to lift a lid.

"What do you mean, what? If I walked away from you like that you'd bite my head off."

"Jesus," he hisses, quickly turning his light away from the bin he's opened. "What the fuck?" 

You creep up behind him to direct your own flashlight. You don't want to talk about what you find inside. 

Defeated and distant and wishing things could be different, you and Steve clip your rucksacks at the waist and prepare to move in the dark from this shitty empty house to the next. You can't sleep; Steve won't say it, but you think he might be scared that you'll both be too weak to get up again if you lay down. This is the final push. 

You don't ask for his hand. He grabs one of your rucksack straps and you slink down the concrete steps of the house back onto the picture perfect streets. An entire apocalypse and the only evidence is smashed glass. The cold night bounces off of the sidewalk to chill your calves, your old jeans little defence against the cold. It's so, so cold lately. 

The next house is locked. You and Steve look at one another, and whether you can see him in the moonlight dregs or if your mind knows him well enough to fill in the gaps is anyone's guess. He looks reluctantly hopeful. 

You take a silent walk around the house checking for points of entry. When each door you come across is locked and each window tightly locked, you kneel at the garage door and force your icy fingers beneath the door. Steve helps, flat of his knife scratching the asphalt. You lose all the feeling in your fingertips as Steve struggles to get his hands under as well, but together you sigh, pained, and lift the garage door with the last of your strength. You army under first quickly, almost dropping the shutters as Steve follows. 

Fingertips aching with quick-blooming contusions, you attempt to help Steve stand. He ignores your offered hand. 

This house is the same as the other, so while it's dark, it's manoeuvrable. Same daunting marble staircases up on to a balconied landing. Across to the left is a lone bedroom with huge windows and a staircase to the attic, and across to the right a handful of equally spacious rooms. You hadn't bothered searching the bedrooms in the houses before, figuring that whoever combed the kitchens to the insane degree they have was as desperate as you are now, and would've already done so. 

But this house was locked. 

You're filled with aching hope. You need to eat. You don't want to die. You don't want Steve to die. If there's nothing here, you aren't sure you'll have the energy to search another granite kitchen. 

Steve wastes no time opening a cabinet. 

You both stand still in shock. 

Cereal. Boxes and boxes of cereal. 

"What do you think the sell by date is?" you ask. 

"I don't know." He pulls down a box. It's off by a year. Pulls down another. Off again. Something awful inside of you wants to tear into the cardboard and eat it anyways. Too bad food poisoning can kill you quicker than hunger. 

Steve leaves the cabinet door open and moves to the next, practically ripping it off of the hinges. Your torch beam shakes with excitement when you see the insides, golden cans stacked high. 

Steve picks one up. Tosses it aside. "It's cat food." 

Well, if all else fails. The thought makes you want to cry. 

The next cabinet is full of glassware, and the next china plates. Steve opens a fifth and sixth at the same time. It takes you a second to calibrate the sight in front of you. 

"It's not more cat food, is it?" you ask quietly. 

Steve breathes out hard, grabbing a handful of skinny cans, metal popping against the counter as he drops one. "It's fish. Tuna fish." 

And just like that, you get to live. 

The last cabinet has a short supply of soups and bare essentials, enough for a week between you both (rich people ate less processed foods, apparently). It's the fish that promises security, a hundred cans of bluefin, yellowfin tuna, a couple cans of caviar. 

You and Steve eat it in the kitchen with fancy spoons. The smell is undesirable but it doesn't make you feel sick until hours later, half asleep on the kitchen floor. 

You stand up, ushering him with you, and pull yourselves with heavy emphasis on the handrail up the stairs to the first bedroom you come across. You take your toothbrush from your bag despite the begging pull of sleep and brush your teeth, eager to escape the salty tang of fish. If Steve wants to kiss you tonight, you'd rather taste like Arctic Fresh than fish. 

"Can I have some?" Steve asks. 

You raise your brows, squeezing toothpaste onto his brush. While he brushes, you construct a little lamp using the low-power torch and a half full water bottle. The room is far less intimidating after that, light reaching into the corners and exposing the raw wooden beams above. Steve spits his toothpaste into the wastebasket and leaves the room. He returns as you're taking off your shoes, disapproving as he drags a chair in. He hooks it under the door handle, jigging it to test. 

"I can't wear them anymore," you say. 

"Okay," he says. 

You'd hoped finding food would make him less snappy, but no luck. He's even quieter than before. 

You get changed in silence, like you've both decided now you're not hungry that actually you'd been kind of filthy. It's just… your reality. You want to be clean, and fed, and brushed, but you're grimy. You settle for another layer of deodorant and a fresh pair of underwear. 

Steve is looking at you, half-naked. He's allowed, it doesn't matter, but he averts his eyes when you catch him and doesn't speak to you again. Thankfully, your sated hunger removes despair to some extent. You climb into bed and Steve slides in next to you, and for a few hours, you sleep. 

Waking up is a new agony. 

You're bad at being separated from one another, and finding him gone fucks you up. Your heart immediately leaps into your mouth, a raw, beating thing. The daylight disarms you at first, blinking against it, but proves to be your friend when you find Steve's shoes at the end of the bed. It's a marker, a note from him to you: I'm still here.

He's leaning heavily on the countertop in the kitchen  with a notebook laid flat and a pen in hand, tallying up the cans.

"Hey, you scared me," you say, his shoes in one hand, yours in the other.  

"Sorry." 

You put the shoes on the counter. 

You hesitate to touch him first. You'd been thinking last night before you slept, his hand near your hip instead of on it, that Steve's finally realised he doesn't want to be with you. Like a near death experience, he'd had an epiphany. Why would he want to spend the bare strands of a life that he has playing house with you? 

He didn't have a choice. One sudden day and you were his burden.

Steve takes your hand without looking. Firm, he squeezes his fingers between yours and pulls you into his side. "It's a month's worth of food, easily. But it might make us kind of sick if we aren't careful. There's Mercury in it. Less than the cheap stuff, but we still shouldn't be eating so much." His arm presses to yours. He meets your eyes over his shoulder. "I hate fish." 

"You're talking to me today." 

He looks down at the notebook, his eyebrows pinching in like you've stepped on his foot. "I– sorry. I wasn't very nice, yesterday, I guess." 

You're relieved to hear his apology, not because you really even want one, but because it means he isn't as mad at you as you thought. "I was complaining." 

"It was all shit. You're allowed. I… was stressed." 

"It was all shit," you agree, explaining away his bad mood. But, last night, he didn't wanna hold you. It sounds pathetic but on a small scale, this is your life. Any change feels foreign. 

"I wasn't mad at you for complaining." 

You feel the back of his hand with your thumb. Fine hairs, skin rough from a few weeks of the elements. "Thanks for clarifying." 

"I'm serious."

"So am I." 

Steve looses go of your hand to put his arm on your shoulder. His fingertips skirt against your back, tickling gently. His eyes are serious but his mouth curves with a smile. "Why are you upset?" he asks. 

"I'm not." 

"I think I'd know." 

It seems silly now to tell him with his touch, his face this close to yours. You take in a shuddering breath and his expression pinches. 

Steve stands as close to you as he can without hugging you. "Hey, tell me," he says. 

You push your tongue against your teeth, thinking. Tears threaten to collect, a burning lump bobbing in your throat at his question. 

"Do you ever regret this?" you ask. "Sometimes I think you do." 

"This?" he asks.

"Me and you." 

Steve laughs, and that really is foreign what with the last few days of moroseness you've had. It's not a humoured laugh, just a shocked one, the sound inking his words as he says, "We're not something up for regretting." 

"What's that mean?" 

"It means," —Steve ducks his head a little, eye to eye with you as his arm curls behind your neck— "it's not even an option. Us, me and you, you alone, it's not an option. I don't regret what's happened or what's happening between us. I wish… I wish I'd been less of a dick to you. I wish I was nicer to you now, and that's a shitty thing to say, but this–" Hid eyes flare with annoyance directed inward. "I get fucking abysmally moody because I can't believe I'm this bad at taking care of you."

You lift your chin ever so slightly and Steve kisses you. Sweet but a little rough, like he'd been waiting for an offer. 

"I don't regret this," he mumbles, tapping the tip of his nose under yours. You lift your head, and he fits another kiss to the seam of your lips. 

"You didn't wanna hug me or anything last night–" 

He hugs you immediately. "I'm sorry," he says over your ear. "It was just a bad day." 

"But I'm here with you. I'm having the bad day with you, I want to be there for you," you say, semi-desperate. 

"I'm sorry," he says again, relaxing as your arms fold behind his back. 

Steve pets your back. You wish things were different, that he could be hugging you somewhere different. You can picture it, Steve dropping you off at some college class or putting his hand in your back pocket on the way to dinner. Things could be so much better and they never, ever will be. 

You don't ask, afraid to even suggest it if he hasn't thought of it, but you worry Steve is with you out of habit. Bad habits are hard to break, but anyone can stop smoking if they really want to. He could move on.

He must read your mind. 

"Sorry," Steve whispers, leaning back to kiss your cheek. "I'm a shitty boyfriend sometimes when I'm trying to be good at keeping us alive. You're the only good thing. I'm really sorry, honey." 

You nibble on the inside of your lip and hug him harder. "Stop saying sorry. You didn't do anything wrong, I just think too much." 

He breathes out in surprise at your ferocity, dropping his head into the curve of your neck. 

"I'm sorry," he says anyway.

Unbeknownst to you, it's in lieu of a different confession. 

You crack a smile. Steve pulls away to fret over your face uselessly, wiping away things you can't see and smiling back like a guy in the movies, all confident and flirtatious. It's a stark difference to the previous gloom. 

"Let's go find some water," he says, taking the side of your face into his palm. "I smell bad and you're shiny." 

"Nice, Steve."

[madamechrissy]

♡ Time after Time ♡

♡ ♡ Pairings ♡ ♡ CEO! Satoru Gojo x Fem Reader

♡ ♡ Warnings ♡ ♡ MDNI- Facesitting, explicit sex, blow jobs, breeding kink, like Satoru needs to breed you fr lol, little bit of getting tied up, light dom/sub elements, then mentions of death and light angst

♡ ♡ Summary ♡ ♡ Gojo Satoru is your boss And you've been his head assistant for over two years now. You do everything for him, including and not limited to cleaning his messes, picking out his clothes, and writing his speeches. Sixteen hour days... night calls... You are tired of being overworked and at his beck and call. You decide you are going to put in your two weeks notice. He is shocked, and wants to try to keep you, because you're the best. But you know better. Right? . You really wanna fucking quit. You also wanna fuck him. Also, fuck him.

A/N (Kinda has 'two weeks notice' vibes a bit! No use of y/n.) Fully finished on Ao3 but I'm going to slowly get it all up here! (Gojo's POV in itallics)

Chapter 9 - Masterlist

Chapter 10

“Gojo… this is too much.” You're standing in front of four big red bags of clothes he had ordered, and he shrugged with a smile.

“Maybe I want you to stay here all the time.” He pulled out an empty drawer of his huge black dresser, and you feel your tummy flip flop. “You can have this one.”

“A drawer? Are you sure?” He was so casual, shrugging and smiling back at you, handsome as fuck.

“We've damn near been sleeping together for two weeks. We might as well have some clothes for you here.” You nervously bite your lip, carefully pulling out the pretty dresses and cute tops, scanty little shorts that made you flush.

“You want me all slutty hmm?” He grinned big then.

“Absolutely I do. When you're just here with me, you might as well be.” You giggle, starting to pack the drawer full. “Next we'll basically be married.”

“Oh stop!” You shoulder him, never sure if he's joking or serious, but he's grabbing another little bag, and you realize it's full of lingerie. “That's for you isn't it?”

“I'd look so pretty!” He holds a lacy pink bra to his chest and you burst out laughing shaking your head at the vision.

“You would!”

“I'll wear it for you baby.” He winks and blows you a kiss, your cheeks hurt from smiling.

“Thank you. It's all so nice. I really appreciate it.” You two kiss, and you feel so comfortable in his room, like it's as easy as breathing, like you could stay and not leave.

“Of course. I know I was a dickhead this morning.”

“You were. I'm still mad. A little less though.”

“I also got you a toothbrush.” He slid a hand into the final bag, and there was a fancy electric brush that was extra. You smile.

“Now we're definitely married.” You tease, and his smirk is devilish.

“Knew it. Just gotta get you pregnant now.” He growled the words, hand on your lower tummy. You feel that fucking ache for him hit hard, crying out just a bit. “You like that idea a lot. Just pregnant all the time with all my babies.”

“All the time? How many baby Gojos?!”

“Mmm at least three.” You sigh, shaking your head.

“Three is okay.”

“Gotta get on that first one. Skip a pill would you.” He lowered his hand, and you instinctively arch against him, gasping. “So fucking easy.”

“Mnh fuck off.” He bit the other side of your neck then, leaving the healing bruise alone, tearing the flesh and making you slick and wanting against his fingertips. “Speech.”

“Boring.” You laugh breathlessly. He picks out an outfit for you then.

“You should put this on.” You nod, and he helps you out of your blazer and business skirt, sliding the little white crop tank and pink shorts on you. Your nipples are on full display, and he grabs your soft breasts, squishing them in his big hands.

“Speech.”

“You're annoying.” He grimaced, looking you up and down. “And really fucking hot.”

“So are you, annoying and really hot.” He kisses your nose, and you can feel your chest tightening with how much you felt then.

“All right, let's go work on the speech. Wanna do this in my office?”

“That works! Oooh do you have snacks?”

“Of course I do. I'll bring em up and meet you there.”

You head to his office, taking some papers and a pen, gliding smoothly against the paper as you start. Gojo came back with a ton of little chocolate cookies, popcorn, pretzels, mini donuts and chocolate bars. You feel yourself full of fondness for him and his goofy self.

“My lady.” He bows, and you curtsey.

“Many thanks Sir. Oh gosh you do have a sweet tooth!”

“Fuck yes I do. Let me grab something to drink.”

You continue jotting down ideas and points Gojo could make, and he comes back with little bottles of different flavor sodas of all kinds. He opens you one up, and then asks the device to play jazz, creating a calming atmosphere, so comfortable. He was leaning behind you, filling you with his clean scent, a long arm on either side of your chair, hand gently brushing your bare shoulder.

His very being distracted you, making your mind wander, thinking torrid thoughts that seemed insatiable. He hummed a bit, looking at your paper, touching you so gently you leaned back in the chair, sighing happily. “Should just all be singing your praises, law school girl.”

“No, no. It's your speech. Okay so I'm thinking of…”

 You and Gojo fall into a comfortable mix of silence and concentration as you both work on your own papers, taking turns snacking and popping treats into each other’s mouths.

Soon it had been well over an hour and your eyes were growing tired. You peek over to see his progress, and he’s super concentrated on everything, hunched over the paper. You get a look at it, and then nearly snort your soda out of your nose.

“Satoru! Really?” He peeks up all innocent batting those lashes with an angelic little smile.

“What?” You roll your eyes at his attempt at feigned innocence.

“That's what you’ve been doing? It’s just a drawing of Sukuna on a dartboard with a fucking dart in his head!”

He grinned, laughing like a mad man, holding it up with pride. “It's a good fucking drawing too! Admit it, you know it is.”

You sigh, hands on your face, struggling to hold in your laughter, holding your tummy as it burst out, making you shake with it. “Yeah, it kinda is.”

“See! I'm so talented.” He pulls you between his thighs, spinning the chair, bringing you to where his head was against your breasts.

“Very talented.” You are brushing back his hair, soft under your fingers, thinking how irritated this would have made you before, but now it was endearing somehow. Deeper and deeper you fall.

“I’m talented in all kinds of ways.” His voice gets husky, his hands sliding down your bare waist.

“Mmm. Let's do more later.”

Gojo snatches you up, popping you on his desk. Your arms fall around his neck with ease, scooching your hips to the edge of it.

“Why do you look so fucking delectable on a desk?” He purred the words. “Come on little brat.”

He helps you down, leading you back up to his room.

He's kissing you passionately, and then he turns you around, and leads you over to his side table, opening it to reveal all sorts of things that might as well have come from some erotica.

“Have I shown you any of this yet?”

“I… what is this, some red room of pain shit?”

He chuckles and plays with your breasts now, making you sigh as he shows you more in the drawer with his other hand. “Nothing too wild here. Handcuffs, rope, gags, blindfold, whip and anal plugs. Lubricant for days, but you sure the fuck don't need that with that waterfall.”

“Nothing too wild? You’re talking to the girl who literally has done almost nothing.” You instantly cover your face in your hands and he eases them down.

“Ah-ah. Don’t be embarrassed. We don't ever have to use any of this. It's just there. If you ever want to try anything just ask me.”

“What if I'm vanilla? Would it be boring?”

“No. You could never bore me.” He caresses your cheek, turning your head so that he could look into your eyes, your ass pressed against his body, wanting. His words reassure you.

 You fall deeper into the abyss that is Satoru Gojo. 

“It’s cute how innocent you are. I just love corrupting it.” His tone grew dark, and you trembled, mind whirling with wild fucking images.

“I mean a couple of them seem interesting…” You admit, still shy though Gojo had seen you in nearly every way. “Maybe being tied up wouldn't be so bad? But I like to touch your body a lot..” You pressed a hand to his chest and he placed one over yours too.

“We could do a loose knot on your wrists for now. And if you don't like it we can just be vanilla.” He was smirking, you nod, burying your face shyly against his chest, inhaling his scent.

“I trust you.” Gojo somehow has you naked and in some fucking pirate worthy knot in mere seconds, before you can barely blink. He pulls your wrist down a bit, glossy lips smirking.

"Too tight?”

You test the ropes, shaking your head, and then he gently sits you on the bed, standing over you, tilting your chin up. You eagerly look down at his cock, licking a lower lip, and enjoy the instant reaction you see.

“Want it in that pretty mouth?” You nod quickly, and sit there patiently, hands unable to grab him. He's ridiculously gentle as he frees his cock from his boxers and places it in your inviting mouth, moaning softly, hands in your hair, guiding your head up and down his shaft.

Each stroke you tried to lick different areas, finding what made him tick, what made him lose control, enjoying the tension in his arms, in his voice as he was whispering your name over and over like a mantra. You peek up and see his head is back, veins in his throat prominent, before he peers back down.

His eyes are animalistic, unreal in how blue they'd become with his eyes dilated to pin points. Eyes like the sky. You tasted the precum on his tip, tongue swirling, lost in him.

He pulled away suddenly, and you pouted, wanting more.

“I was having fun!”

“Time for my fun.”

He laid on the bed, on his back, legs hanging off and feet on the floor. He beckons you with a finger until you straddle him, pulling you higher and higher until your legs are on either side of his face, fucking scandalous you think. 

“Satoru!”

“Sit on my face, baby girl.” He ordered, and you hesitate, making him yank you by the rope now, until you're bent forward, pussy right open in his face. “Getting shy again?”

“What if I like, suffocate you?!” He laughed, and you jolted as it hit your sensitive pussy.

“Please suffocate me, baby, I want your cum all dripping on my face.” You moan, and he's anchoring you, making you struggle with your core for balance and then his tongue is sliding up your slit, and you're nearly screaming in pleasure, arching against him. His slurping noises are obscene as he drinks your desire.

You're trembling, riding his face now, your hips going back and forth, cumming hard when he moans against your puffy little clit, vibrating it. As pleasure strikes through your body, he's literally fucking inhaling you at this point, hand gripping your ass hard. You fall apart on him, crying out, shaking as you grind on his face, tongue fucking you through it.

You struggle to get up, it was too much, but he holds you there, and a finger drifts up from the wet entrance of your pussy and up to your ass entrance, making you tense, he slides it in the tiniest bit, a fingertip, continuing the ridiculous pace of his tongue. At the new and foreign sensation along with possibly your favorite thing in the world, Gojo’s pussy eating expertise, you rock back and forth in mindless pleasure.

You fall backwards when the orgasm rocks through you hard, he hangs on to your hips, you’re so weak. You see Gojo's face is drenched and shimmering under you as you’re straddling his chest. You laugh like mad, breathy, and he's grinning like a psycho with you.

“That… that tongue is like the devil.” You mumble. He laughs, sitting up and sliding you down, positioning you above his cock. You throw your head back, trembling, as he uses the rope to pull you down onto his length, slipping in your throbbing pussy with ease.

“See I told you, you’re freaky. You liked that, becoming my little slut.” You didn’t deny it, simply sinking back down on his cock.

“Yes, yours…” You mumble incoherently, his nostrils flare at your words, their intent clear as you keep his gaze, rolling your hips on him, pressing him so deep it ached.

“That's it.” He caressed your breasts, before taking your tied hands and leaning them on his chest, pushing you forward more. “Yes, sit down on this cock. Mmm. Just like that.”

His words pushed you further every time he spoke.

“Mnh! So good I-fuck!” Gojo hit some spot deep, and you started to feel your climax hitting again, as he slid a hand down to your clit, making you come then and there. It pulsed through you, your entire body reacting, pussy tightening around him again, making you weak.

“You're taking me so well.” His voice was quiet, words so calm, sucking in a breath as your pussy soaked his stomach as wetness seeped out, cunt pressed so tight around him.

“Love…” Don’t do it. Too soon. “Love… this. Love your cock. Feels so good, so so good.” Your words ran together, slurring like you were drunk damn near, the ecstacy shut your brain function down.

Satoru raised a brow with a half smile. As if he fucking knew what you meant. “I love this little pussy, too. Fucking goddess riding my dick.”

You struggle at his words, knowing he literally looks like a god, you were merely a mess barely able to hold it together.

Gojo's dick is stretching you further beyond your means, and your orgasm rocks you so hard again you can't move anymore, trembling, gasping for breath. His dick is against your walls, impossibly harder, and he's fucking into you now, tearing you apart, slick sweat forming between your bodies.

He shoves up into you hard, tensing then, pretty white teeth biting his lower lip, those dilated eyes narrowed, thin brows low. “Do you want this cum inside you?”

You nod fervently, hanging on to him as best you could, but then he flips you on your back, tied arms up above your head now, shoving your legs up against your chest, cock going in impossibly deep. You cry out in pain as it fills you too much, too much. He grabs your face as his arms press your thighs flush, pussy open to him fully.

“You'd be so pretty with my fucking baby in you.” He whispered, and it made you wetter, more sensitive, pussy throbbing for his cum to fill you, for more of his words that did nearly as much as his touch.

“Put one in me, please, Satoru. I promise, I can take all of it, all your cum… Oh please.” You’re begging him, without any of his prompting, and watch the madness fill his gaze as your body bumps up and down with each powerful stroke.

“Take it all then.” He bit out the words, and then shoved all the way, bottoming out nearly, you scream, wiggling, and his cock pumps his hot cum in you, pulling just a bit back to shove it in more. Satoru groans, his own body shaking, kissing you. You drink his soft moans as he and you both lay there, cum starting to fall out now.

“Satoru…” He eased out of you gently, untying your wrists with deft hands, and began rubbing life back into them. They'd gone numb.

“You like wasting my cum, little brat.” He made you tense, then his fingers shoved it back in you. Again. Again. Again.

“Ah! Fuck…” You’re sobbing now and he's cooing above you.

“What's wrong, little slut?”

“N-nothing. I can take it.” He smiles, clearly pleased, long fingers easing out. He shoved them in your mouth, so deep, gagging and choking you, making hot tears start falling.

“My pretty girl is crying?” You nod, gasping, pussy still throbbing from your orgasms, struggling to come down to Earth. “Clean all this mess you made.”

Gojo kneels before you, and you get on your hands and knees, ready to do whatever he asks, but your body is weak. Mind weak. Gojo put his cock in your mouth, still massive after cumming, big hand grabbing your messy hair and wrapping it around his fist.

You eagerly lick and suck tasting a mix of tanginess and sweetness. You'd do anything for him, to please him, it was pathetic what he made you into. You're sucking off both of your cum, his trembling hand the only sign he wasn't in total control, shoving deep in your throat, and you took him as much as you could. He tilts your chin up, looking down at you, wiping your sticky tears and pulling away.

“You're so beautiful.” He whispered, brushing your hair back. “You did such a good job.”

“I did?” You ask, and he exhales, hugging you to him, caressing you so gently. You were still crying however, your chest heaving with your sobbing, unable to stop your shaking.

“Hey, hey, you alright baby?”

You nod, clearing your throat, snuggling against him. “It was just a lot… like too much…”

“Overstimulation?” You nod, and peek up at him, eyes still glittering with tears. “You can tell me to stop whenever you know. I want it to be fun for you.”

“No, I like it a lot. A lot. It's just also really overwhelming. Like losing my mind. Then when I come to I'm just…”

“Spent.”

“Mmhmm.”

“I'll take it easy with you next time. I'll make it sweet.”

You giggle at that, breathing still erratic. “You, sweet sex?”

“You doubt me?” You nod and he glares. “I can be sweet for you. Recover, and next time I'll show you. Make love to you and everything.”

“Mmm don't believe you.” He laughed, rocking you in his arms, pecking little kisses all over your head.

He pinched your cheek. “Let's clean up and get you some dinner.” He picked you up in his arms, and your head fell, tired against his chest, struggling to keep your eyes open.

“Mmm. Kay.” You mumble, and he takes you to his bathroom, starting a shower. “Gojo we'll just fuck in there and I'm really exhausted.”

He smirked back at you. “I will not, if you just try to not be such a dick hungry slut.”

“Dick! Am not!”

“No?” He turns to you, naked, gorgeous, and your pussy is hurting, wrecked, but you realized he was kinda right.

“Nope.” You lie. He grins.

“Liar. All right, get in here and let me wash you up.” You walk to the large shower, marble and granite tile, three shower heads. It was luxurious.

The steam is hitting you, hot water is pounding on sore flesh, and Satoru Gojo is there, taking care of you.

You love it.

***

Two days later

You had woken up, getting ready as was routine, anticipating seeing Satoru, but then you peered down and saw it. A call from your brothers. Then a message, asking if you were okay because they knew how hard today was. You frown, brows furrowed in confusion, then it hits you like a goddamn tidal wave.

The tenth anniversary of their passing.

Had you been so happy lately you didn’t remember?

A decade since the world shattered, leaving you with a gaping hole where your parents once resided. It all starts hitting you, the guilt you felt for them having died and you having been in that car, having survived. It starts to shatter your psyche, your lungs cannot get air, and then you’re hyperventilating, blood pressure so high your ears are ringing and you’re bright red.

“No. No. No.” You hold your head, shaking it, hands in your hair, and then you fall apart.

You can’t let anyone see you like this. Every year you take off for this reason, but today it’s worse. You were so happy. How could you be happy today? What did it mean? Were you just so far entrapped in Satoru that these thoughts had been shoved away? Maybe you were.

You wanted him with you so badly. You craved his comfort, his voice, his touch, but no way could you bring him into this.

An hour later the world feels blurry, muted, devoid of the vibrancy it once held. Every corner echoes with their absence, every scent triggers a memory, every sound a phantom whisper of their laughter. You look to their pictures, making it all fucking worse, thinking of the jewelry you had of their ashes that is just shoved up in a little box because it hurt so bad.

You couldn’t tell him. He couldn’t see this dark side of you. The panic stricken anxious mess. You had to keep it together or he’d be scared, and fuck if you hadn’t fallen head over heels for him. He texted you. You were never, ever late. You ignored it, though it hurt to do so.

He called then, and you took a shaky breath, trying to pull yourself together. “Hey Satoru, I’m sorry… I can’t come in today.”

“What? Are you okay?” Gojo asked softly over the phone. You struggle to find the words as you peer at the picture of your family. Happy. Smiling.

“Um… I'm kind of exhausted. I'm so sorry, Satoru. I'll definitely come to the work tomorrow though! I will be at the award ceremony too. I won't miss it. It's just today.” You couldn't bring yourself to tell him. The truth felt too heavy, too raw

You hear a sigh. “You never call in, fuck you’re never even late, so I got worried. I just saw you… is something wrong?”

“It's not… I promise I want to see you. I swear. I just can’t come today, I’ll make up whatever tomorrow.” You whisper the words. He's silent but you can hear him thrumming his fingers on his desk.

“Of course you can miss today if you need to. I'm never gonna be that asshole boss again to you. You work hard enough.”

You exhale in relief, smiling. God things had changed so much. “Thank you so much. I… I'll miss you until tomorrow.”

“You're being sweet, now I’m really worried. That's just weird. Do you need me to check on you? I will come over now.”

“No, I'm good!” Liar.

“Hmm. Okay, tonight?”

“No no don’t worry. Promise. Just need rest. I'll text you later.”

It hurt. You wanted to ask him to stay, wanted him to come over, his hug, his presence. But how could you put that grief on him? When it's still so new. He couldn't see you this way. Disheveled, mascara streaks, hair fucking messy and wearing his clothes for comfort. You wanted to drink wine, eat ice cream and fucking cry and it was just 9 am.

You missed them… and a new found pain was here, the pain you felt because you wished so terribly he could have met them… you…

“Baby, you there?” You clear your throat at his concerned question, shaking yourself out of your reverie.

“I'm here. Sorry. I… have to go. See you soon, promise.”

“Baby girl… I…” You nearly broke down at that. As he then said your name so softly. “Call me if you need anything, okay? Please let me know you’re okay.”

“Thank you, Satoru, I will! Promise.” You hang up, and place the phone on your dresser, then you just slide to the soft carpet below, curling up in a ball and holding yourself.

The call ended, but a knot of guilt twisted in your stomach. Gojo was trying and you were lying to him. Even if his antics sometimes bordered on the absurd, he was always honest with you. Why couldn’t you show him your full self, when he was so uniquely himself?

Because you were terrified to lose him.

You'd have to call your brothers now, to support them. You'd have to make sure to call your grandparents. You know this was even harder on them. But you didn't really wanna think today. Didn't want to feel. This overwhelming grief that shouldn't be here after this long. But it's always this day, always…

Fuck. You hated today.

***

The day dragged on, lonely after you’d cried it out with your brothers, with your grandparents, punctuated by the silence of your empty apartment. The echoes of your past had hot tears streaming down your face, blurring the memories that refused to be silenced. Blurring everything.

You choked alone on your grief.

Your stomach growled because you had not eaten since last night, and it was now about Four PM, but you wanted to vomit. You just were a ball of despair on your little couch, cuddled still in Satoru’s clothes, wishing you would be brave enough to answer his call, his text, but you weren’t brave. You still hadn’t even told him how you felt, so scared of everything.

You were just a crumpled mess of blankets and tears when there was a knock on the door. You didn’t bother to answer, to respond, just lay there, and then you heard it, his voice. You ached to get up, to go to the door, but you could not bring yourself to move, to have him see you in this way, so weak and pathetic, the opposite of him, so strong.

He was calling out your name, and before you knew it, he just walked in, a bag of food from his favorite place in one arm, looking to the right and then the left before those bright blue eyes landed on you. Gojo's smile faltered, the usual playful glint in his eyes replaced by a worried frown. He instantly put everything down and walked over to you.

“What the fuck! What’s wrong?” He sat you up, brows drawn together, studying your red puffy face. “Baby girl, please, you can tell me. Did something happen?”

“N-No.” You shake your head, your whole body is shaking.

“Come here.” Then Gojo took you in his arms, a silent embrace that somehow understood your pain, even though you had not told him why. He just held you there so tight.

You clung to him, your body trembling with a grief you couldn't articulate. He didn't ask for explanations, didn't push, just held you tight, his warmth a beacon in the darkness. For a while, you just stayed there, letting him sway you side to side, sobbing against his chest, inhaling his scent, and you realized that his presence truly made you feel whole.

Fuck.

“I’m sorry. So sorry.” You were sobbing out the words, and he was shushing you, shaking his head, brushing your messy hair back.

“Why are you sorry? Stop that. I’m here, okay?” You nodded, gasping for breath, arms around his neck. He eases you back a bit, and you’d never seen him this way, as if he were afraid for you. He gently caressed your face. “Wanna talk about it? It may help.”

You take a small breath, and he hands you the box of tissues, you take one gratefully and blow your nose. He waits patiently. And you love him so much it hurts your heart in an entirely different way.

“Thank you for being here. I didn’t mean to worry you.” You smile sadly, hand on his face. He puts his atop yours, leaning into the embrace, attentive gaze unwavering on you.

“I have been worried sick all day but I didn’t wanna be a psycho. More psycho than I already am.” He smirked a bit, and you let out a tremulous smile. “I figured I’d just leave work early when you wouldn’t write back.”

“I’m glad you came. I should have just told you.”

“Told me what?”

“It’s the tenth anniversary of the car crash.” It’s silent, save for his steady breathing and your erratic breaths. His hand tightens on your own, letting you speak. “I get sad every year. I feel guilty. Especially this year, because I damn near didn’t remember, I’ve been so… happy with you.”

He held you against him again, firm, arms wrapping tight as he pulled you on his lap. “Why would you feel guilty about being happy?”

“Because… it’s like I’m forgetting.” You break down again, and he’s there for you, so sweet, so strong. “Fuck I didn’t want you to have to see this.”

“We’re together now. You’re mine. I will see you like this and it will not change any fucking feelings I have. Got it?” His words were husky, voice breaking, holding either side of your face. You fall apart worse.

“I… should have… told you. Fuck. I just…”

“Shh, stop.” You’re shaking, and his grip is tight. “Don’t you think they would want you happy?”

“Yeah.” You blow your nose again. “But I feel bad.”

“Stop that. You don’t think they’d want their daughter to move on? To find her own happiness, versus working herself to death and being fucking lonely.”

“Ouch.” The words were harsh, but true. He glares at you.

“This is not what they would want. I’m not them, and I didn’t know them, but I know damn well they’d be proud of you.” That broke the last defense you had, and now your tears were falling so fast tissues wouldn’t help.

“You think so?” You blink rapidly, and his smile is sad, his blue eyes just like the sky, just like him, so complex and so beautiful. And you were just a mess. And he still held you, despite everything.

“I know so. I know that when I have kids that they’ll be the most important thing to me, and their happiness.” His words made you melt. You clung to him, kissing him with chapped lips, and he clung to you, sighing into your mouth. “You’d make them super fucking proud, just look at you.”

“Look at me? A fucking mess.” You laugh erratically, and he smirks a little, pecking little kisses on your sticky face.

“You sure are. But I mean in general. Helping your brothers, law school grad, successful business woman. Kind human. There’s a lot to say good about you. You’re not just a stuck up bitch you know.” You sigh, and other thoughts converge. You get quiet. “Let me clean you up. Okay?”

You nod, then, he gently led you to the bathroom, sitting you up on your white counter, and starts running the water. He started helping you wash your face, brushing your hair. He didn't say anything then, he was just quiet, but his touch was soothing, his silence a balm for your aching soul, the presence of him bringing brightness to the darkness.

“Thank you so much. Really.” You murmur, as he applies a little vaseline to your lips, before pulling you down and turning you. You look all pink and your eyes are swollen, but Gojo is there, behind you. “You’re so pretty.” He chuckles at that.

“I know I am.” Gojo winks at you in the mirror, and he puts your hair up into a ponytail now, leaning low to kiss your cheek. “Better?”

You nod. “There was another thing that made it all worse today. And if I say it maybe you’ll think-”

“You can say anything.” He cut you off, and you turn in his arms, leaning your head back to peer up at him.

“It was worse because I thought to myself how they’ll never meet you.” Your tears burn your itchy eyes, and Gojo is silent, jaw tense, his own eyes glimmering with emotion as his thumbs brush your cheeks in little circles. He clears his throat, studying you carefully, lips parting.

“You would have wanted that?” He asked, and you felt his vulnerability then, needing that reassurance. You nod fervently, leaning up on tiptoes, pulling him down to face you.

“More than fucking anything. And I won’t have it. I even think further, to crazy shit I shouldn’t…”:

“Just say it all.” His own voice is raw with emotion. Vivid pictures of what could never be poured out everywhere as you clung to him.

“If we… I know it’s some kink… I get it. But it makes me think, if we did, have babies…” You gulped, and his eyes didn’t leave yours, jaw clenched. “That they wouldn't even have grandparents from my end.” You barely hold it together, and his eyes flicker, sighing, grabbing your face tight, making you face him.

“You are going through all this pain alone, for what?” He asked, and you shake your head, unable to speak anymore. You’ve already said too much and shown too much. “You are thinking of all these things out of your control.”

“I know. I know. And they’re stupid.”

“No.” His voice is firm as his grip. “They’re not stupid. It’s fucked what happened to you, they are things you’ll miss, but you can’t let it swallow you. Especially when I am right here with you.” You love him so much deeper than you even thought possible, fall deeper into the bottomless feelings for him, as he reassures you.

“You’re right. I appreciate you so much, Satoru, so much.” He kisses you then, firm, exhaling into your lips, arms falling down to wrap around your hips.

“It’s not just a kink by the way.” He whispered, and you tense, pulling back to look incredulously at him.

“I thought…”

“Yeah, I know… but if it happened, they’d have us. They would have all kinds of love. Wouldn’t they?” Your heart thumps in your chest at the implications of your conversation, and you nod, seeing a hint of relief, as he lowers tense shoulders just a bit. “There’s also other family of yours that I can meet. If you want.”

“That’s very true. They’d all love you.” You watch him, leaning above you, and you manage a small smile. “You have made me feel so much better. I guess I just have to try to let this guilt go.”

“I told you that you’re mine. That means I’ll take care of you.” You fall easily into his soft kisses, unlike anything you two had shared, intense in how emotional it was, the room so quiet as your body was going crazy with each touch.

“And I will be there for you. Whenever you need me. That’s pretty fucking corny, isn’t it?”

He grinned, a little sparkle of mischief back in his eyes. “We’re both being pretty corny today. I am mad at you though.”

You pout, sighing. “You are?”

“You didn’t trust me enough to let me take care of you.”

You bury your head against his chest. “It wasn’t that, I knew you would, it was that I didn’t wanna ruin this by seeing me this way.”

“You won’t ruin anything. Okay?” You nod, blissful as you two just stand there in your little bathroom, hugging. Then, your tummy growls, and you flush in embarrassment as he laughs. “Have you eaten?”

“Not since yesterday.”

“That’s what I’d thought. Come on crybaby.” You snort, smacking at him half heartedly, and he brings you back to the kitchen. “We gotta heat it up.”

“I got it.” You prep the microwave, and he’s kissing down your neck as you two wait for the food to warm up. “Thank you.”

“Of course.” Gojo’s hand is hot, pressing on your tummy, the other on your waist, hands so big they nearly took over your body.

“I feel so safe with you. More corny things said today.” He smiled against your neck as he pressed a kiss to it.

“So corny. And such a crybaby. Had all that snot running down your nose.” You elbow him, and then you’re both laughing, holding your stomachs as you play fight around the kitchen.

“You were so sweet, you just had to be a little bit of a dick, huh?”

“Of course, who would I be if I wasn’t just a little?” He wiggled his brows, and then you two sat down, nibbling. Your hands still shake as you eat.

“This reminds me of last week, when you first came here.” You mused, and he nodded, hand on your thigh under the table, the weight reassuring.

“You’ll find it hard to get rid of me, now. I literally just let you sob on my expensive fucking shirt and everything.” He feigns disgust, making you laugh more. You both fall into a comfortable state, chatting, feeding each other, and soon you find yourself exhausted, yawning.

“I really need some clothes for you here.” You say, stretching in the only outfit of his here. His eyes look up and down your body.

“You like those, huh?”

You nod, tucking a strand of hair that escaped from your ponytail nervously, flushing. “They made me feel less lonely.”

You both are silent, and you curse yourself for being pathetic, and it’s on the tip of your tongue to make some joke to ease the tension, but he’s kissing you, deeply, leaning across the little table. You fall into it, breath now racing for an entirely different reason than earlier, the intensity of your feelings starting to become absolutely impossible to ignore anymore.

Loved him.

You loved him.

You felt loved, even if it wasn’t said, it was there.

His kiss was a lifeline, Gojo was your lifeline, pulling you back from the abyss of despair. You felt a sliver of hope flicker within you, a tiny spark of light in the darkness, bright as his eyes, as his soul. An ache builds in your chest, and you’re sitting on him now, cradled in his lap, and his hands are warm and hard as they’re under your shirt, on your back.

“Hmm. I’ll just have Kiyotaka bring me some clothes.” He says, and you smile.

“You don’t have to stay tonight, Satoru, it’s fine.”

“Hush brat.” He slips into his pocket, texting him, still having you wrapped around him as if it were just a normal thing. It felt so good. “I’m not leaving you alone tonight.”

 You exhale, smiling. “Good, I didn’t want you to go.”

“Speak your mind more, then, little nun.” He taps your nose, and soon you two are cleaning up, and you change into your pink silky jammies, when you come back out Gojo has clothes already.

You let him get changed, and as the night wore on, you two had popped on a movie and he had blankets and pillows ready on the couch, you notice he’d cleaned up your pile of tissues. Then you were sipping on wine together. You laughed, cried more, but mostly just were so enwrapped in him that it felt like he was the very home you’d longed for.

You feel your eyelids getting heavy, and soon Gojo had taken the wine glass out of your hand. You blink a bit, so exhausted it’s hard to focus, and he picked you up in his arms.

“I’m always having to carry you all over.” He teased, and you smiled, feeling fuzzy as you lay down in your bed. Gojo sits there, running his long fingers through your hair, and sleep pulls at you.

“I sleep a lot around you… be… cuz I… comfy with you.” You mumble, in and out of consciousness. Did you even speak or think? You weren’t sure.

“Is that what it is? Need some cocaine?” You snort, snuggling deeper against the silky pillow, craving that hand that caressed your hair like it was a lifeline.

“No. Just comfy Satoru.”

“Mmm… you’re so cute when you’re sleepy.” You feel his lips press your temple, and you smile happily when you feel his weight shift, coming behind you and wrapping arms around your body tight.

“Comfy comfy… Satoru.” He laughs, and then you are drifting off to sleep, nestled in the warmth of his embrace.

Satoru stayed awake, watching over you as you slept, so pretty, so exhausted. He was glad he was ‘comfy’ as you murmured, silly little thing that you were. He was glad he could bring you any peace, for the pain you felt was like a knife to his heart, your words about you wanting him to meet your family had broken him. The sadness you bore alone…

He sighed, and his hand was gently stroking your hair, silky now from all of his brushing, earlier it had been in knots. Always so put together, he never knew how much you held in. He listened to your careful breathing, thinking how precious you had become to him.

You start to rustle, your pretty full lips parting. In your sleep, you suddenly murmured, “I love you, Satoru.”

Gojo froze then, his heart pounding in his chest. He couldn't believe his ears. The words whispered in your dreams startled him. Was it real? Was it…

“Do you?” He asked softly, craving your words then, craving your very being, pulling you tighter against him. His lips were on your ear.

“I love you… so much… Satoru. Love. Mmm. Don’t leave me. Please." His heart couldn’t have hurt more, at the desperation, even in your sleep. He felt unwanted emotion in his eyes threatening to fall.

Your words, even in your sleep, felt like a confession, a declaration of love that mirrored his own unspoken feelings, ones he was himself scared of. As brave as he acted, losing you would destroy him. Even today he’d been so scared he’d fucked it up somehow... that you were done… and he was glad he came over, glad he could cheer your pretty face up, that he made you comfy.

You were comfy to him too.

Without you, he didn’t sleep.

Gojo held you tighter, his lips brushing your hair, and fell asleep right beside you, falling into the comfortable sound of your heart beating and your steady breaths. He would do anything for you.

***

When you woke, the sun was filtering through the curtains, casting golden rays across the room. You stretch, yawning, and reach across from you to find that Gojo was already up. You frown for a moment, worried he’d left, but then the aroma of bacon and pancakes filled the air, a comforting scent that brought a smile to your face. You stand and head to the kitchen.

There he is, all tall and shirtless, fucking gorgeous man, and he’s making you breakfast. You come and smack his butt playfully, he jerks, turning and taking out an ear bud with a devilish grin.

“I could get used to this, too.” You say, and yank him for a little kiss.

“Good morning, sleepyhead.” He said, hugging you. “Are you feeling a little better?” You nod.

“Much, much better. This smells so good.”

“You need to eat more. I told you, I won’t have you losing this ass.” He grabs a handul and you blush, much to his delight.

“I’ll make coffee!” You pop a coffee pod, grabbing the creamer, and it’s just so easy with him, like you two had done this for years. “Are we late for work?”

“Nah it’s early still. Thank you.” You hand him a cup first, with tons of sugar as he liked, then set to working on yours. “Have a seat, let me serve you milady.”

You giggle, taking your hot cup of coffee, sitting at the table and watching him work his magic. “I didn’t even know you cooked.”

“I love to cook.” Your heart is swelling with a mix of gratitude and an emotion you couldn't quite name. He sits a plate down for you, and you both dig in, the pancakes are so fluffy you’re moaning.

“So yummy!” You continue to nibble, and he’s watching you, with a serious look on his face. You frown. “What’s wrong?”

He looks away, almost as if he was shy, Gojo shy? No way.

“Last night when you slept…”

“Did I snore?” You tease, but he’s just forking his food, seriously. “Did I take all the blankets?”

“Nah.” He took a bite, chewing thoughtfully, and your anxiety rised a bit, taking a bite yourself and trying to stay calm.

“What was it?” His eyes were bright blue as the sun filtered through the window, his hair was falling soft against his forehead, breathtakingly handsome across from you. It made you tremble. “Now I’m nervous. Just say it.”

He ran a hand through his hair, looking away, once again as if he were shy or something, it threw you off. You lick your lips nervously, waiting. “Well, you kind of talk in your sleep.”

You sigh in relief, laughing. “Oh, I always have.”

“Yeah…”

“Did I say weird shit?” You pick up another bite, mood cheery now, but then his next words…

“You said you loved me.”

Your fork clatters to the plate, making a shockingly loud clang, and your eyes are wide, mouth open in a startled gasp.

Chapter 11

Ao3 chap

https://archiveofourown.org/works/55424137/chapters/142312984

[harrystylesfan2686]

Thirst For Blood

Pairing: Azriel x Reader.

Summary: What happens when you finally escape one prison, only to be locked in another for merely surviving...

Warnings: Mentions of slavery and torture (nothing descriptive). Blood (ig)

A/N: This is probably my longest writing yet. I'm so proud of myself for this one. I tried writing in 2nd POV after the results of survey done by @leafsandstarlight so i apologise in advance if the povs change suddenly mid sentence. I did my best to edit out the mistakes but if there are some left still, do tell me and I'll correct them right away. I love this one and I hope you do too. 🫶💕

Masterlist

○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●

The soft cracks of fallen twigs fills the silence spread across the forest. The wounds on your bare feet had finally stopped flowing blood. It didn't really mattered though, considering you were covered with it.

The streaks of dried blood coming out of your mouth lined all the way down to your chest, soaking through the torn material. The dress shirt and pants you had stolen from your very first kill had been ruined, having constantly walked for weeks. Covered with dirt and blood that now appeared dark brown.

You didn't know where you were going, only that you had to keep walking, running away as far as you can from the place you left behind.

You saw something move behind you and froze. You turned and held your breath, looking around, hoping for an animal or something to jump up and attack you. After what felt like ages but was probably a minute, your shoulders sag in relief when you didn't see anything unusual.

You turned to continue down your path but gasped when you saw a male right in front of you. Tan skin with black short hair atop his head, adorned in leather and blue stones. Not normal stones, you realized, Siphones.

You hadn't even had a chance to think about what to do now, before he twists his wrist at your direction and a black shadow comes out in a blur, hitting you on your forehead hard enough for the world to turn into darkness in you eyes and you fall unconscious.

-☆-

Azriel paced around the dark room, frowning at the females body asleep on the floor in front of him. The shackles around her hands and legs were bound to prevent her from running or pulling any tricks when she wakes up. It's been hours since he brought her here and imprisoned her, he realized. And she still hasn't woken up.

He has been trying to catch her for a long time, longer than what it normally takes him to find his targets. The creature that's been killing fae left and right. Draining every drop of blood from her victims and leaving the bodies for everyone to find.

She's been moving from one Court to another without leaving any trace of who or what she is. Never letting anyone predict her next move. It has thrown every Court into a spiral, not know what kind of creature has been killing their people everyday.

Azriel has been searching for the monster–her for a while. It took him a lot more time then it should. Always coming up blank while predicting what she was and what it's–hers next move would be. He was starting to question his position as the Spymaster, starting to feel ashamed every time he couldn't give Rhys the information he needed even though Rhys assured him multiple times that it's alright.

But now he knows.

He finally has the answer to all his questions. Finally found the only thing that kept him awake long into the nights, wondering why he couldn't perform his best this time. He felt as if he could finally breath freely again, without feeling abashed.

But as he watched her for hours, waiting for her to wake and using that time to observe her. How peaceful she looked and her calm features and clothes made him question himself, again. He's started to feel agitated. Maybe he made a mistake. Maybe she isn't the one he was after, all this time. But the one thing that stopped him from releasing her was the dried blood on her body. It seemed almost black from the darkness of the dungeons.

The wind in the room moved when a dark cloud formed and Rhysand stepped out. The energy in the room calmed to an eeire silence before he looked at Azriel and raised an eyebrow,"Still not awake?".

The shadowsinger shaked his head and sighed,"I don't know what's wrong. I didn't hit her with much force, just enough to make her faint for a few hours."

Rhys hummed and moved towards her sleeping form, staring at her for a few minutes before crouching down, raising a hand and placing it down on her head.

-☆-

You woke up with a startle and let out a small yelp at the sight of a male touching you. You scrambled back going as far as you can before your back hits a wall, breathing loud and fast while switching your gaze between the two male in front of you.

The one who was crouched in front of you stood and moved back, standing beside the male that was already stood with his hands crossed. Wait. You've seen him. He is the one that took you from the forest, the one with siphones straped to his body, seven siphones, you counted. They glowed so bright in the darkness. You forced yourself to look at your surroundings. A small room with four walls, a window on one of them and a metal door on another. A table in the middle on which a siphone–less male was now leaning against.

Your hands felt heavy when you tried to lift them, looking down and feeling the weight of the shackles locked on your hand and legs. The chains on them were small, enough to stand but not run. The air left your lungs and you felt like blood drained from you body when you realized where you were.

A torture chamber.

No no no.

Not again. You had just got out of one. You refuse to be locked up again. Anger filled your body as you looked up at your captures and snarled. "Release me!" You demanded.

The siphon male narrowed his eyes while the other's lips thinned in a straight line. The disappointment clearly displayed on both of their faces.

"No." Said the narrow eyed. And before you could speak again, the other one extended his hands as though calming a wild beast and said,"How about we start with introductions? I'm Rhysand, the High Lord of Night Court." His then pointed at the siphoned one,"This is Azriel, The Spymaster of Night Court." He gave a gentle smile which you knew was fake and asked,"And you are?"

Rhysand. Azriel. The High Lord and Spymaster. Night Court. Prythian. Right. I am in Prythian.

Your expression soften and eyes widen when you realized how far you've travelled. You were at the very top Court of Prythian. Did you really walk all the way through the continent without even realizing it?

Rhysand cleared his throat and raised his eyebrows in a silent demand to answer him. You swallowed a lump, wincing when you felt your throat sore and scratchy from dryness. You opened you mouth and told them you name, feeling a lot calmed then you did a minute ago. Rhysand's eyes widens as he looks at you as if he hadn't expected you to answer. "Will you answer a few of our questions?" You nod slowly.

"First of all. What are you?" You frown upon hearing his question but then relax looking at him. Of course he doesn't know.

"I'm a Vampire." You answered. Both their faces shocked and you sigh. Feeling the weight of your life on your shoulders. Azriel composes himself the next second but the High Lord's mouth still agaped a for longer than a minute.

"That's not possible. Vampires aren't real, they're a folklore created by ancients to scare the younglings." It's Azriel that says it this time, shaking his head in disbelief. His voice oddly comforting and you lean your head against the wall closing your eyes for a second. "And even if they were, they are extinct. They haven't been seen in a Millennium."

"So were Seers. But they came back too, didn't they? Even if only one." You open my eyes and raise an eyebrow.

"Yes. And im not going to ask how you know that but that's because a female was thrown into the cauldron and it gave her powers." Rhysand states.

"Exactly." You say. "The cauldron made her a fae and gave her powers, along with her sister. And I know because I've heard about you, high lord. The one who stole Spring's wife." You laugh softly. "It's absured what they say about you."

Rhysand's jaw clench.

"Calm down. I'm not making fun of you." You gave an apologetic expression.

"How are you a vampire? Have you been hiding all this time?" Azriel winces as he says, probably cringing at how crazy his words sound.

"Couldron made me a Vampire when I was pushed into it. Since I was already fae, I became the creature who feeds on blood to live. I was transformed in hybern, been made one of the King's experiments." You explain. They both frown in confusion and share a glance while you close your eyes and rest yourself against the cold, hard wall, the exhaustion of your journey finally hitting you at once.

"How did you get here?" Azriel questioned.

"I used my powers."

"What, exactly, are your powers?" It's was Rhysand this time.

"Compulsion. I can compell anyone to do anything I want."

"Is that how you hid yourself? Killing or compeling the people, who saw you?"

You finally straighten your neck, giving them your full attention and raise an eyebrow. "Isn't it obvious? I compell the people to forgot they saw me." Rhys' body tenses as that. "You can control minds?" His calm tone shealing the panick and anger behind it.

"Not exactly minds. I can control your consciousness by looking into your eyes and ordering you." They shared a glance, unsure to believe you or not.

"Don't think im telling the truth?" You tilt my head towards the shadowsinger. "I can show you." Azriel assessed you cautiously and nodded once.

You peered into his yellow onyx eyes, the gold flickering in them can be seen clearly even from the distance between you both. Concentrating on energy thuming beneath your mind, your iris' expand as you give the order,"You'll do as I say."

His face cleared of any feelings, his expression bland as he repeated,"I'll do as you say."

"Take off my binds." You lift your hands and the corner of you lips quirk up.

His eyes widen,"No!" He exclaimed but his feet moved on their own, seeming as if they were they're own person. He stopped in front of you and sat on his toes, hands moving to your restrins. "What the fuck?" He barked.

"Azriel stop!" The High Lord ordered, stepping behind him and held onto his shoulders, trying to get him away from you. Azriel didn't budge.

"Stop." You spoke, pulling your hands back toward you before he actually opened your chains. Azriel stood and took a big step away from you, finally in control of himself. He and Rhysand breathing hard, staring at you in disbelief. "Believe me now?"

A moment of silence passed, no one speaking anything before Rhysand cleared his throat,"How–," He shaked his head slightly. "When did you became a vampire?"

"I'm not quite sure of the time. All I know is that when you killed the king, I ran and came here." You shrug.

"Tell us everything." He ordered, the traces of a gentle man gone, leaving only the authority of a high lord. "You said 'experiment'. What do you mean by that?"

"You don't think he just threw the high lady's sister in there and hoped for the best did you?" Your lips thinned. "He tried it at first, obviously. Trying to see if his theory actually worked. Since he couldn't throw in humans, he bought fae slaves like me and drowed us in the Couldron. He drowned one fea at a time. The first two didn't survive but he didn't give up hope. When the third subject resurfaced, he was overjoyed. Thinking it finally worked but all that hope was destroyed when he crawled out of the Couldron and died a few minutes later.

The forth subject the same as before but the fifth survived. She came out a dragon, being able to exchange skin for scales and pikes, hands to wings, and breath fire when angry. The king locked her up and tortured her, trying to check how strong she was. She lived a full month but at the end died of bloodloss." You sucked in a sharp breath, preparing yourself for further.

"The sixth subject came out looking normal. But everyone quickly realized they had made a mistake calling her a fail when she looked at a person and that person turned stone. She was executed the second she turned the gaurd stone. I don't know details more than this because as I said we were never transformed at the same time. I heard all this in small pieces of information, listening to the guards that were stationed to my cell, talk.

I was the seventh subject. The only fae who was weak enough to torture and strong enough to keep alive. They beat us, burn us, and tortured us in ways I couldn't even imagine were possible. I had a better of it though because not long after I was turned, you killed that king in war. When I heard the he was dead and the castle was in mayhem, I ran. I ran and compelled my way out of Hybern and into Prythian, in hopes of finding a better life." You gave them a lopsided smile and sigh.

"You killed innocent people in the process. You murdered your way through our land." Azriel finally spoke and the look in his eyes as he looked at you was pure rage.

"I was weak. I was hungry. I couldn't control my hunger, I didn't know how to. When I fed on those people, I planed to just take a sip of thier blood and leave. But I couldn't do it. I couldn't control myself in the few killings. I would never kill a person on purpose. I never want to harm anyone. And after I was strong enough, I did learn to control. I fed, compelled and ran." You tried to explain yourself but it seemed clear he didn't believe you.

"You could've used your power to get out of here the second you woke up. Why didn't you?" He abruptly changed the topic. You swallow a lump.

"As I said, I don't want to harm anymore people."

You turned to the high lord and said,"I won't hurt anymore people. You have my word. I just want my freedom. A peaceful life is all I want." You plead.

"How do we know you're not lying?" Azriel asked in an irritated tone. I glaced at him and said to Rhysand,"You can look into my head. If you find that I'm laying, you can kill me right here and never let me walk out alive. I'll accept whatever punishment you give. I promise you I'm saying the truth." You considered begging at this point if it got you free.

Rhysand looked at Azriel, The two of them held each others gaze for a minute without saying anything, having an unspoken conversation. Your eyes skipped between them, confused because they weren't even blinking.

Suddenly, Rhysand turned to you, stepping near and put a hand on your head. He either didn't notice the dirt in your locks or didn't care. You gasped feeling a dark shadow within you soul, you winced and shut your eyes because it felt almost painful, not so much that you couldn't handle it but enough to steal you focus only to the shadow digging around your subconscious. Your body locked itself in the position you were sitting in. You couldn't do anything but sit there and let the high lord examine your thoughts.

After what felt like forever Rhysand finally stepped back and sighed. The relief of body finally back to your control almost made you drop to the ground but you kept yourself composed. Breathing heavy and looking up to the high lord, you raised an eyebrow, silently questioning him.

"She's telling the truth. She doesn't intent on killing anymore people." Rhysand informed Azriel and his face relaxes the slightest. "And as for your request," He told you,"Fine. I'll let you walk through Night Court," I couldn't control my smile. "But only on one condition." He raised a finger.

"Anything." You noded.

"Azriel will be with you at all times. Anywhere you go, anytime you go. He will be there. At least until we are sure to trust you won't harm our residence." Rhysand ordered and Azriel clenched his jaw.

"Alright!" You felt so happy, you could dance.

Rhysand and Azriel shared a worried glance, again but you were too in your own joyful world to realize. You are finally free. You closed your eyes and rested you head on the wall, the smile on your face refusing to go.

I am finally free.

-☆-

Azriel watched with skeptical eyes as you practically skipped through the road. You both were on your way to a small bakery Feyre had suggested.

When you were taken out of the dungeons, the High Lady of Night Court had arried there complaining how long her mate had been gone. Her eyes had widened when she took a look at you, worry clearing written in her expression. When the high lord and spymaster explained who you were and what your situation was, she immediately took it in her hands to get you comfortable.

It was weird, to be honest. You had never experienced someone being so kind and nice to you, treating you like you were important, like you mattered. Even before you were turned, your life was rough, being a slave waiting to be sold, it was expected. So yes it had been very weird.

You were transfered in a house built above a mountain. Rhysand said it was because Azriel lived there and you were always expected to be with him, but you knew the real reason. It was because the House of Wind had ten thousand steps, standing so high the if you ever tired to run, you wouldn't be able to go far without being caught or dead. But you didn't care because you never wished to run. Never wished to give them any reason not to trust you.

So you accepted your fate with a happy face. You met with High Lord's inner circle who were cautious with you, still are, but a little comfortable thsn before. You only met them once and are sure they all could kill you the second you did something wrong.

Everyday you walked with azriel around Valaris, going from one shop to another, learning the style and culture of people of Night Court. You were first a bit scared to do or touch anything in front of Azriel, not even speaking much but you have to admit, you got used to having him around. Finding him at every corner you turned to, watching you. After a while you tried to talk to him, making small talks about random things as you walk and surprisingly he replied to you everytime.

Azriel didn't understand how someone can be so annoyingly curious about everything. You looked at every person, every dish of food, every single thing with so much curiosity and happiness, it made him almost angry. The smile of your face hadn't left for a second since they released your shackles. It was like walking with a bubble full of pure contentness.

Your eyes widen in excitement as you pointed to a bakery in front of you. "There is it!" You took your hand in his and walked faster, almost ran to the door of the small shop. He opened the door and stepped aside to let you in first and closed it behind you both.

You smile impossibly wide as you take in the pink interior. A few tables spread across the left side of the shop with even fewer people sitting on them and the right filled with freezers that contained verities of sweets. From cakes and pastries to cookies and different breads, everything looked so delicious, you can't possibly choose what to taste first.

"Good morning darlings, what can I get you?" The lady behind the cash counter asked with a smile.

"I apologise but I can't decide. Why dont you suggest me something?" You gave a smile.

"Alright do you like chocolate?" She asked. You opened you mouth to reply but stop, trying to remember if you've ever tasted chocolate. You don't think you have. Well guess you'll if you like it now. "Sure." You smiled.

When the lady asked Azriel what he wanted he just said that he doesn't want anything. You both go to sit in one of the empty tables on the very left corner, taking the seat opposite to one another. There is a widow right next to you from which you glimpse at every person walking through the road.

While you observe outside the window, Azriel observes you, thinking how can anyone be so energetic all the damn time. He thinks of how you look so different than how he first saw you, covered in so much filth, and now your skin is as clear as water. Your eyes and lips so perfect, he can admire you for days without stopping. The one thing he's sure is amazing, is the joy in your eyes, he swears you could have the deadliest disease and still be happy.

He breath catches for a second when you turn to him, realizing he had just been caught ogling you. He expected you to frown in discomfort or turn to the other way trying to avoid him but he stopped breathing entirely when he sees you smile even brighter at him. The blush on you cheeks and sparkle in your eyes fading away the rest on the world around you.

His focus entirely on how breathtakingly beautiful you are.

The moment shatters when a girl in aprone comes in with a dish and places it between you both, muttering a small enjoy and going away, leaving them alone again.

"I've never had chocolate before. I'm not sure if I'll like it or not." You quietly admitted. Azriel tried not to let his surprise show as he digested the information. Of course you never had chocolate, you were a slave most of your life. He mentally rolled eyes at himself.

You picked up the spoon and scoped a small piece of the brown substance. You put it in your mouth and instanty let out a small moan at the taste. Sweetness explods in your mouth as you chewe, digging in for the rest of the cake immediately.

Azriel tried to ignored what that moan did to his body. He tried to suppress the smile itching to appear on his lips as he watched you eat the piece of cake in utter amusement. The chocolate covered you lips and you tounge poked out the lick in clean. You finished the cake and beamed at him. "One more, please?"

Azriel's lips turn up at the corner as he gestured the waiter for one more pastry. He noticed the end of your lips still brown. "You still have chocolate on your face." He stated and pointed at his own lips, trying to show the exact place. Your hand came up and wiped the opposite end. "Better?" You asked. He shaked his head. "The opposite." You wiped it almost cleaned but missed a spot. You raised you eyebrows, silently questioning him again.

He sighed and reached his hand to your face and wiped the rest clean. His fingers felt rough against your soft skin. You intake a sharp breath feeling fire ignited against your skin as he moved his hand back. He then pulls his thumb near his mouth and open his mouth to lick the chocolate off. His eyes held your gaze for a heated moment and you forgot how to breath.

The moment interrupted when the waiter came in again. Bringing in the second dish of chocolate cake you ordered, though before she could rest it on the table, someone pushed her, causing her to lose footing and drop the dish, shattering it to the ground. A hundred broken pieces of ceramic glass spread through the floor and she spoke out a curse. Bending down to pick up the pieces, she repeated apologises under her breath, but as she picked up one sharp pieces, the sharp edge cut through her skin and she instanty dropped it and gasped. The small cut deep enough to gush out a trail of crimson blood.

You tense as the smell of blood fills the room faster than anything. You close your eyes and try to control but the smell is so strong you feel hunger hit you all over your body. Azriel quickly stood up and grabed you, standing you up too as you both quickly get out of the shop, you running as fast as you can from the desire to feed on that poor girl until you feel her limp in your arms.

Azriel pulled you in a dark ally beside the walk way, placing your back against the wall and resting both of his hands beside your head. You press your eyes with both hands trying to think of something else, anything other then the beautiful scarlet liquid ready to be suck on just a few steps away.

"How are you feeling?" Azriel doesn't mention how he feels proud of you that you controlled yourself enough to get out after not drinking blood for so long.

"Hungry." You growl, trying to distract yourself by thinking.

"You need to distract yourself."

You scoff. "You think im not already trying." You snapped at him, not even in enough mindset to feel bad. Your head hangs low as you reach to your hair, pulling as hard as you can. Pain. Yes that's what's going to distract you.

Azriel licked his lips. "I have an idea but I'm not sure you'll like it." He whispered.

"I don't care if I like it not. If you have something to calm me then act on it!" You finally lowered your hands and glared at him.

Azriel felt speechless as he looked at you. Your irises glowed red and veins that coloured black and purple pulsed around you eyes. Your mouth in a snral, showing off you pointed canine that stood out proudly with sharpest edge amongst the other teeth. You looked deadly as though you could kill him this very second without a problem.

It made him want you even more.

Pushing every doubt out of his head he slam his lips to yours. You mouth open in a gasp and he used it to his advantage, pushing his tounge in your mouth. You returned the kiss with a sigh, pushing yourself into him, hands in his hair and tougne tied with his. His one arm wrapped around you waist and other behind you neck pushing your head upwards to deepen to kiss.

You both kept your lips to the other until what felt like forever. Finally pulling back and opening your eyes to find him already looking at you. The hunger you felt now was of a entirely different reason than before the kiss. The gaze you shared was a lot more than desire, it was raw and intimate.

You smirked at each other.

"I hope you liked that, because we are definitely doing that again."

○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●

[powerfultenderness]

Hello there! I just discovered your könig neighbor series, and I was wondering what would happen if könig got hurt? Maybe he came back from a mission with something the reader notices?

As big or as little as you like. I'm obsessed for real. The way you write him is spot on to what's in my head. I'll take whatever scraps you are willing to throw out!

First, thank you so much! And I'm so sorry for taking so long with this one! I usually try to keep the requests/suggestions shorter, but this one got a little out of hand!

There's a tiny bit of angst here. But most of it is like half fluff and half suggestive. So [Mature 18+ rating]

He never imagined himself as one of those men that would rush home to see his partner. And he still wasn’t. He was a man rushing home so he could see his neighbor. After quickly dropping his bag off at home, he found himself knocking on your door and hoping it wasn't too late for you.

Thankfully you were still awake and answered the door only after his second knock. Clearly you had been getting ready for bed, as you didn't look tired but were dressed in a large t-shirt and loose fitting shorts. You smiled up at him as soon as you opened the door, "König! You're back!" 

And you jumped up and hugged him. Not your usual greeting for him, usually it was just a nice smile and a wave, if he was lucky you'd gently graze his arm. But this was the first time since you moved in that he had been gone longer than a week. 

He quickly returned your embrace, wrapping his arms around you and holding you off the floor, enjoying both the feel of your body against his and your happy little squeal. 

You giggled as he set you down, you let your hands gently glide down from his shoulders, until you were simply holding onto his arms. 

König smiled down at you, taking you in like you were the very air he breathed, and so saw the moment your face shifted from happiness to horror. You let out a little scream and jolted out of his hands, “ah! I’m bleeding!” 

“Shit! What happened?” He quickly, but gently, took your arm, smeared in blood, and looked over it with you. 

“I don’t know!” You panicked as you tried to find the source of your bleeding. 

Wait…you didn’t feel any pain. You looked up from your arm to his and gasped. “I’m not bleeding! You are!” 

It was hard to tell, as he was wearing a black long sleeved shirt, but with a closer look, you could see a dark wet patch sticking to his arm. 

He hummed quietly and followed your line of sight to look at his right arm. “Oh. Yea. I did get hurt.” 

“What do you mean, ‘oh yea’? Come here!” You tugged on his uninjured arm and pulled him into your flat.

“It’s not that bad, darling. I’m fine.” Though he protested, he followed you with no resistance. 

“Sit,” you ordered as you pointed to your couch and disappeared into the back room. 

You returned with some clean towels and a first aid kit; not a cutesy supermarket kind, he noticed, but quite the premium kind. You gently set the items down on the coffee table in front of him and headed to the kitchen, running the water until it was warm enough. 

“Why do you have this?” He asked poking through the first aid kit while you were running the water. It was good that you were prepared for emergencies, but he liked to think that you would turn to him in emergencies.

“House warming gift from my sister. The kids like to spend time with me, and one of her kids is a little accident prone.” Never, at least in your care, needed anything more than a band aid, but better safe than sorry. 

Ah. That made sense, he nodded to himself. A first aid kit of this caliber did seem like something a worried and responsible mother would gift.

You filled a bowl with warm water and set it down on the coffee table next to the rest of the supplies. “Now, let me see.” 

His injury was near the back of his right bicep, simply rolling his sleeve up didn’t even reach the wound. You hummed and dropped your hands back onto your lap. "Even I think it would be too dramatic to cut up your shirt." 

You were about to continue, to tell him to change into a shirt with short sleeves when he crossed his arms at his waist and pulled his shirt over his head. 

You should have kept your gaze up. Not only would it have been more polite, you might have caught a glimpse of his face as he pulled his shirt over his head. Hindsight. Instead your eyes immediately dropped his chest, a breath caught in your throat, as you stared at…him. When you first met, he had rolled up his shirt to show you a scar on his side, and that had sent your heart racing. But now? With his shirt completely off? Your eyes, very wide, were glued to his chest, taking in every dip of his muscles, naturally leading your eyes down and down, only disrupted by scars (that you had the sudden urge to touch) and hair that dipped down-

“Darling?” König cleared his throat nervously. “I can do it, if you are, uhm, scared of the blood.” 

You jumped, and breathed, at his voice. Crap! You were caught completely checking him out and a quick and hopefully subtle swipe to the side of your face proved that you had literally been drooling. You, brain still not caught up, scoffed at his words. Instead of taking the polite out he’d given you, you opened your stupid mouth. “Please, I’m not scared of blood.” 

How did you not notice him take one of the towels to sop up the blood on his arm?

“You’re not?” 

The way his hood moved with him, as if it were a part of him, combined with the streaks of faded paint underneath his eyes should have been intimidating. You imagine that on the field, even to his own teammates, that it is. But the way he tilted his head and how you could tell, even with the eye black still on his face, that his eyes were wide was almost…comical. It was cute. And it grounded you, out of the gutter.

“Nope. Now, let me see.” You returned to the task at hand, taking the towel from him and cleaning up the blood. 

“You are full of surprises.” 

“Not really.” You half laughed as you set the bloodied towel on the coffee table. You had meant that you had experience with blood quite often, once a month for a couple of days kind of often. But considering most men got queasy on that topic, you dropped it. “Looks like a little band aid won’t do.” 

Every time you turned away from him, this time it was to get an antibiotic ointment, König had to remind himself to calm down. Your touch was so soft and gentle, he’d been treated for such lacerations more times than he could count, but the medics were never so gentle. Of course, you didn’t have a line of patients waiting on you, but that somehow made your attention all the more special. It was a good thing you could not see his face, he was sure his entire face up to his ears was red. He would look so much less cool, would ruin the lust he saw in your eyes when he took off his shirt, if you could see just how flustered he really was. 

“Am I allowed to ask what happened?” You softly asked as you moved onto applying gauze. 

“Nothing bad.” He leaned forward just enough to get a whiff of your shampoo, or maybe it was your lotion, either way an intoxicating and fitting scent.  “An enemy managed to sneak up on me with a knife.” 

You gasped and looked up at him, eyes wide once again but for an entirely different reason. “You said it was nothing bad!” 

“It wasn’t!” He chuckled, hand moving to pat your knee. “This was all he got before I killed him!” 

His wound completely bandaged now, you froze for a moment before quickly dropping your hands. “O-oh.”

Shit. Was that the wrong thing to say? You didn’t seem to mind the violence when he told you about the scar on his side, was mentioning that he killed someone too much? His stomach dropped, were you scared of him now? You gently removed his hand from your knee and started to quietly clean up. König swore his heart stopped beating for a moment. You were pushing him away. 

“Please see a doctor or medic or whatever you have on base, tomorrow.” 

While your voice was still soft, there was a cold edge to it that made König want to drop to his knees and beg you to forgive him. 

“In the meantime, you should rest.” You finished and took his shirt from his lap and the bloodied towels and stood up.

He followed, at least he meant to, but you quickly turned and pointed back at the couch. “Rest.”

“Darling, please. I don’t need- This is fine. I am fine.” 

You crossed your arms, and narrowed your eyes at him. “König.” You dragged out his name in warning. “Sit down. And rest.” 

He sighed and sat back down, grateful for the soft blanket you had draped over the couch. The air suddenly felt cold without you next to him. 

You put away the first aid kit and dumped the bloodied towels and his shirt in the wash, luckily noticing that you also had blood on your shirt, probably from when you hugged him. You glanced over at him and he was staring straight ahead, not moving, and quickly ducked into your room. You changed your shirt, and made sure you didn’t have any more blood on you (you didn’t), before adding your shirt to the wash and returning to the living room.

He looked so massive seated like that on your couch. He was slouched a little, legs spread, right knee bouncing nervously, and his arms crossed over his chest. Oh. Maybe you should send him home now, he was half naked in your home now, after all. 

König looked up when you came back and froze, heat instantly returning to his face and chest and ears and. He swallowed thickly and forced his eyes up. You had changed from a large t-shirt to a fitted, low cut, tank top. You were looking at him with a raised brow. Shit. Had you asked him something and he missed it because he was too busy staring at your chest? 

“Are you sure you’re okay? See, this is why I told you to rest.” 

“I’m fine, I’m fine.” He repeated, standing up and taking a few steps, standing close enough to you that you had to crane your head back just to keep eye contact.

“Where are you going?” You shouldn’t be trying to stop him from leaving, but, heart racing and blush heating your face and all, you still wanted to spend time with him.

“Oh, you know.” How could you hear his grin under that mask? “Just to work out.” 

“Don’t even joke about that.” He shrugged. “Lift some weights.”

“König.” 

“Maybe some pull ups.” 

“Just sit back down.” 

He sighed and did as you said. “I told you-”

“If you don’t rest, I’ll make you rest!” In essence, you already were! He was sitting back on the couch!

He chuckled, “oh yea? How?” 

“I’ll! I’ll, uhm…” 

“You’ll what?” Now he was laughing. It was cute how you thought you could make him do anything! (even though you just did…)

Frustrated that you could think of nothing to make him listen, you shouted a last resort: “I’ll sit on you!”

König stopped laughing and blinked at you. “...what?” 

You crossed your arms. “You heard me.” 

The silence that followed dragged on for a second too long, you shifted your weight nervously, and König suddenly started laughing again, loud and gasping for breath, as if what you said was the funniest thing ever. “You’ll sit on me! Is this a dream?”

Even if you had understood the German, it would have been difficult to make out what he was saying between all the laughing. You glared at him, misinterpreting his words as a challenge. “Don’t think I won’t do it!”

His head dropped to the back of the couch and he slapped his thigh, “do it, love!” He sat back up, chuckles still falling from his mouth, “go on. Sit on me!” 

You tried to keep glaring at him while your mind struggled to translate unknown words into English. You were pretty sure he was just repeating what you said, like he didn’t believe you. Well, he was wrong!

He finally stopped laughing and sighed, you were always so willing in his dreams. “Not a dream, yea? I thought so.” 

He tensed, like he was going to stand back up, and you moved quicker than he thought you could, not that he was going to stop you. Just like you “threatened”, you sat on him! Your hands were on his shoulders and you were straddling his lap. He froze for a moment, his mind trying to catch up with his racing heart, and looked up at you.

“Rest.” 

He swallowed and nodded. “Ok.” His hands moved from his sides to run up your thighs, his thumbs playing at the hemline of your shorts before you snatched up his hands.

“Hey!” You dropped his hands, letting them fall back onto the cushions, and leaned forward to whisper in his ear. “Only good boys get to touch.”

König’s head flew back and he groaned, hips unintentionally thrusting up. He was panting, as if he’d been holding his breath for far too long, and looked up at you. “I can be good!” 

You half gasped and half giggled at his reaction, your blood practically sending fire to your face as your heart raced in a mix of excitement and nervousness. You thought he’d laugh at you again, instead he shifted beneath you, and looked up at you with big desperate eyes. 

 “Please.” König pleaded, hands digging into the cushions. If he needed to be good, then he couldn’t touch you again without permission. But it was so hard! You were so close to him, your weight on his lap giving such nice pressure, if only you would scoot a little closer! His eyes rolled back and his head dropped onto the couch again, as he imagined, prayed for, you rolling your hips, grinding onto his growing bulge. 

You were still though, no longer even touching him as you crossed your arms. “Hmm. Are you sure? No working out?” 

He looked at you again and shook his head vigorously. “No. No, I won’t!”

“Noo, lifting weights?” 

“No!” 

“No pull ups?” “No! I’ll be good, I promise!” 

You giggled, heart still racing at how quickly he got riled up. 

He whined and shifted under you again, not in an attempt to get you to touch him, but just to alleviate his need for space.

“Then,” you uncrossed your arms and gently took his chin in one hand, forcing him to look at you again. “What are you going to do, König?” 

He swallowed again, lips darting out of his mouth to lick his lips. Your soft, gentle, sweet little touch that he could barely feel through his hood might as well have been an iron grip, for all that he was willing to give you control of his body. He blinked, eyes searching yours for the answer you wanted to hear. “Ah, rest.” 

You smiled and dropped your hand, though he remained still. “And?” 

König’s heart dropped, his stomach alight with butterflies, and licked his lips again. “Touch you?” 

You laughed, and he laughed with you for a moment, before you shook your head. “Noo. What are you going to do tomorrow?”

“Oh! Medic!” 

“That’s right!” You cheered and much to his disappointment, climbed off of him.

He panted for breath and tried to follow you without standing up (not until you gave him permission to), and leaned forward. You chuckled and held your hand out to him, “come on.” 

He jumped up, reaching out not for your hand, but for your waist. But your hand on his chest stopped him, “you can tell me what the medic says tomorrow.” 

He once again found himself frozen and unable to think clearly. “...what?” 

You started to guide him towards the door, “oh and I’ll drop off your shirt tomorrow too.” 

“What?” 

You opened the door and nudged him through it. “Welcome home, König. Good night.” 

König stared at your closed door for half a minute before he leaned against it, his hand flying to the doorknob and finding it securely locked. Good. But…he sighed, “good night, angel.” 

[More Neighbor König]

Tagging: @warrior-of-justice

[bbsmuts]

Monday of Appreciation #1: July 22, 2024

Welcome to my version of Smite's Monday of Appreciation, wherein I'll name a few of the users who I have appreciated since I got on here, so about 2 and a half years. I'll probably do one of these every few months.

#1: @ggidolsmuts

Ah, Ddeun. One of Tumblr's more underrated users, in my opinion. First-class writing and support for me in the earlier (and current) days of my career. I'll never forget the first of yours I read, which was your Fromis App work on Yiren. In fact, reading this and some of your others were what lead me to write for Tumblr in the first place, which is why you place at #1. I wouldn't even be here if it weren't for you.

#2: @xiaoondc

I think it was your Momo ask that really got me noticed, since after that I went from about 50 followers to about 500 in a month. Field Trip was REALLY what got me noticed, which brought me more spotlight. Really, I'd be nowhere without your initial noticing of me. You've been a loyal supporter and advisor who's pitched several good smuts, a few of which are coming soon. And by soon, I mean in 2050. So you are a second crucial role in how I got to where I am. I also appreciate that I can go to you for assistance, advice, or just for moral support at any time.

#3: @aurorororaaa

You were my first follower. Maybe you thought I'd forget you, but I didn't. Thank you.

#4: @jazi1234

You were the first to give a like on my first ever post. Thank you.

#5: @fukurofanfics

You've been a fantastic friend my entire life, as well as being a loyal supporter of my account. Couldn't appreciate you more, man.

#6: @co-reborn

Wrote two of the best Yiren smuts I've ever read, as well as several other fantastic ones.

#7: @idolsgeneration

Somehow finds time to post pictures of my favorite idols like every 10 minutes, and a couple of those posts inspired smuts, either ones I've posted or ones in progress. And some for a long time in the future.

#8: @fillinforlater

Another one of the first writers I discovered on Tumblr, and the one responsible for many a fantastic fic. Also the one who inspired this post.

#9: @sinswithpleasure

Bucket List 5, an incredible Nayeon smut and one of the first I read after some of Ddeun's. Also someone who inspired me to start writing my ideas myself.

#10: @banananutsmuthie

Idol Club was just amazing, and the lore that came with it. Also someone who inspired me to write.

#11: @smuttysabina / @dailysabinasmuts

Phenomenal short fics every day of the week, as well as several longer works which are just as good. I really like your work on Everglow, we need more.

#12: @capslocked

Insanely long fics (it's like 30k works a smut, I swear 💀), but insanely good fics. Yet another who inspired me to write.

#13: @lustspren

Supreme writing, which has inspired the sentence structure and usage of words in some of my work. Was also the author of the first smut I gave a like to, for what that's worth.

#13: @byunrosehajoon

You're my fiancée and soon-to-be wife in about 12 hours. Love you babe.

______________________________________________________________

If anyone feels like they should have been on here, give me a shout and you might be on the next one.

All the best -상훈

[lowkeyrobin]

Hiiii i love your writing so much!!!!

I was wondering if you could do a Uma(descendents) x fem!reader based off of the song casual by chappell roan (uma reminds me if the girl from casual)

Thank you so much if you do do this <33

hiii thank you! ; and yeah sure, I just wrote a miguel diaz oneshot based on this so sorry if it's super short and dumb cause it drained me a bit lol ; but thanks for requesting, hope you enjoy!

UMA HALI ; casual

summary ; it was merely casual

warnings ; language

disclaimers ; reader is from auradon

track ; casual, chappell roan

word count ; 614

masterlist

"Was it casual when you saved me from Audrey? Was it casual when I almost died for you?" You nearly scream as you question her, wanting an answer.

She bites the inside of her cheek, unable to look at you. "I'm sorry, okay?"

"No, it's not okay! I thought we were something. I thought you loved me! What? Do you only love me on the Isle where you're safe, where you're in charge?"

"No, it's not like that!"

"Really? What's it like then? Cause this whole relationship feels like it can only thrive in an environment under a terms and conditions list where you thrive. I thought it was different this time"

"Y/n-"

"It's like you just see us as some casual thing, me as a casual thing when you need me, but seek validation from other people. It's like you're just using me to experiment cause you've never been with an Auradon kid."

Her expression turns to one of regret and sorryness, like she wanted to fix this but knew she couldn't.

You scoff, turning away, throwing a backpack full of her things at her. You slam the door in her face, leaving you and Evie alone in the room. Evie opens her arms for you, allowing you to jump into her for comfort.

She silently rubs your back, allowing your tears to flow.

"Maybe you just weren't meant to be" She speaks

"I wish we were"

Moving on from her was awful.

Everything reminded you of her.

Your friends called you a loser, just to joke, because you were still hanging around.

You always thought about those two words.

"No attachment"

What did that even mean?

Why was that not the first red flag?

Fuck, within two weeks you'd met her mom and she invited you over for dinner. You thought you had something.

Evie brings you outside, having grown tired of watching you cry and sulk, taking down your turquoise, cyan and gold decor that you put up for Uma. All sorts of shells and nets and jellyfish you'd crafted hung from your ceiling and walls. You put them up to make her feel more at home, but she hated it.

Evie drags you away from the unfinished organization, walking you out to a private spot in the woods. She carries a satchel on her shoulder, and stops in the middle of a trail.

You turn to her confused, watching as she pulls two small pots out of her satchel. She hands them to you, which you awkwardly accept.

"Scream. Throw these, hit things. Do something" She speaks. "I'll walk away, just let your emotions out. Okay? Scream about everything you hate about her, all the deep dark secrets, everything. Pretend you're hitting her."

You nod, watching as she steps away, making her way down the trail where you'd came from. There was a bench at the start, so she'd probably sit there while you waited. As she disappears into the distance, you turn to a tree next to you, imagining Uma's face on it.

You'd set one of the pots down, both slightly rusty and clearly old, meant to be beaten around. You raise the one in your hand and beat the shit out of the tree, knocking a little piece of bark off of it. You definitely scared the squirrels and birds out, though.

You begin to scream, shouting and yelling out everything you needed to.

You looked rather crazy throwing pots around while screaming in the woods, but it was private, a raw moment where your emotions had exploded inside of you. Tears stream down your cheeks, landing on your shirt and the dirt below.

"Fuck you!"

[st4rluvrr]

Her

 ☆ “we can do whatever you want. you can fuck me in the back of your car"

synopsis: you meet ellie in a bar and have sex with her in her car. based on 'her' by chase atlantic.

wordcount: 3.6k

warnings: 18+, daddy issues, mentions of alcohol, sub!top ellie, dom!bottom reader, fingering (r!receiving), thigh riding (ellie!receiving) strap-on-sex (r!receiving), nipple play, tit sucking, hickeys, very little after care, little angst, ellie begging, let me know if i've missed anything

author note: okay so this if my first time writing smut so I hope it's good. i rushed the ending and there was meant ot be a scene where reader eats out ellie but i got too tired. so maybe next time. i'm not sure if there is a part 2 to this, if i think of something i'll write it. hope you like it :)

“I’m gonna get another drink. Want anything?” You asked your friend, and she waves you off, too engrossed with the man next to her. It was part of the reason you had finished your drink so quickly. The other was that you wanted to get drunk. You needed to after the week you had.

Your dad had tried to contact you, spilling some rubbish apology on why he left when you were young. And you didn’t plan to forgive him after everything he did while in your life. But that didn’t stop him from leaving you like hundred voicemails. You had no idea how he even got your number in the first place, but you couldn’t block him either. He always kept his number private, making it impossible to make the calls stop.

You weaved around the bar, swimming between the bodies. The bar was packed with people standing in each corner of the bar. The heat was suffocating, surrounding you from each angle. It was making your hair stick slightly to your neck. You ran a hand along your neck, pulling the hair from it.

You push through the crowds until you are at the front of the bar, and people knock into the back of you, pushing you against the wood. You stand on the top of your toes to try and get the bartender's attention, rocking back and forth on your heels while waiting for someone to notice you.

“What do you want?” A voice comes from your left. It’s smooth and runs along your ears like caramel.

“What?” You ask, hardly hearing your voice of the music.

“What drink do you want?” They ask again, patiently waiting for your answer.

You finally look over at them. Her hair was short, barely reaching her shoulders. She had half of it tied in a knot, small pieces falling and framing her face. Her face was littered with freckles, and you wanted to join them to see what constellations they would make. She was wearing a plaid shirt over a white wifebeater. She has the sleeves rolled up, showing off her tattoo that wrapped around her forearm. You wanted to trace the leaves with your finger.

You look back up at her face quickly, not wanting to be caught checking her out. The smirk on her lips tells you you have been caught, her green eyes scanning up and down your body.

“Tequila,” You say, staring into her eyes. You seemed to be caught in a trance, the words stuck on your tongue.

“Two tequila shots, please?” She gets the bartender's attention quickly, giving your order, and the bartender places two shot glasses in front of you as well as salt and lime.

She pushes one shot over to you, looking you in the eye while she licks the back of her hand. You can only imagine what that would feel like somewhere else. You could feel the heat pooling in your stomach.

You grab a pinch of salt, sprinkling it over the wet stop on her hand. She licks her lips as she watches you lick the back of your hand. You lick the salt off the back of your hand and down the shot, feeling the liquid burn the back of your throat. You watch her throat bob as she swallows the liquid.

You can feel the alcohol warm your stomach, making the blood rush to your cheek. You can see the red colour spreading on her own cheeks as she pushes the sleeves of her shirt further up her arms.

“I’m Ellie,” She says, and you return with your name.

Whether it is the alcohol finally hitting your system or the need for something good, you nod your head toward the exit, “Wanna go somewhere cooler?”

“Yeah,” She says, slightly breathless like she is shocked by your question. As if she didn’t expect you to be that forward. You grab her hand, pulling her through the array of bodies. Her skin feels warm under your hand as her finger interlock with hers.

The cool breeze hits you immediately, blowing back your hair slightly. The sound of the overbearing music dampens the second the door shuts behind her. You feel clearer out in the air and you can finally think, your thought no longer lost in the music.

And you hate it. You came here to lose yourself for a moment, to forget everything and just breathe. You don’t let yourself dwell on it for too long cause you can feel her behind you, waiting for your next move.

You fall against the brick wall, your head tilted back, looking at the night sky. She stands next to you, your arms plastered against hers. Your hands are no longer intertwined, but she plays with the rings on your fingers, spinning them around, lightly brushing over your fingertips.

“You see thoses stars,” She points to a spot on the left and looks over to you, “The ones that kinda make a right angle.” You nod your head. You can barely see through your blurred eyes, but you can kinda see the shape she is drawing in the sky.

“That collection of stars right over there is called the coma Berenices. It’s named after a queen in Egypt. When her husband went to war, she was so desperate for him to return home. So she cut off all her hair as a sacrifice for Aphrodite.” She looks over to you to make sure you are following her story. You had been watching her the whole time. The words she was speaking blurred in the back of your mind as you stared at her side profile. Her nose just looked so perfect, and the way her lips curled as they retold this story was making it hard to focus.

Her eyes softened at the sight of you listening to her every word, waiting on her every breath. She has never had anyone listen so intently to her stories before and it makes her want to tell you a thousand more.

“Aphrodite was moved by her sacrifice and made sure that her husband returned home safely. She uses the hair to decorate the sky in a tribute to their love” She has leaned in closer to you now. Ellie's hand was now playing with both of your hands, the top of her shoes bumping against yours. And as she finishes the story, her breath fans lightly over your lips, making your own catch.

You want to reply to the story she just told, but she is so close it makes your brain stop. You can smell the strong scent of a woody cologne mixed with her natural musk, and it’s making the pool in your stomach deepen. You can see the sweat glistening off her collarbones, and you want to nibble at the skin, tasting it on your tongue.

You look back up into her eyes and you can see that she waiting. Waiting for you to answer or to kiss her, you don’t know but you decide to go for the latter. Pushing off of the wall, you connect your lips to hers.

Ellie presses them gently into yours. Her lips are soft and slightly chapped against yours. She kisses you harder, lightly biting on your bottom lip. Your mouth opens as a quiet moan slips out, and she uses this as an invitation to deepen the kiss. Her tongue runs against your lip, and the kiss becomes messier as you become more desperate.

Your head falls against the brick wall, where her hand rest to protect you, as she starts trailing small pecks along your jaw. You can’t help the moan as she bites the skin along your jaw, licking it to soothe the pain. Your hips buck into her when she finds the spot along your collarbone. She pushes your hips down, pinning them again the wall. Her other hand comes up to cup your jaw, scraping your hair back.

“What do you want?” Her thumb rubs gently along the skin showing above your jeans. It sends a shiver through you as your mind goes blank for a second.

“We can do whatever you want,” You don’t want her to stop touching you but don’t want to be caught with her hands down your pants. You put your hand on her chest as you push her back. You say as you feel your head coming back up for air. You weren’t looking for a commitment right now. You just needed someone to submerge yourself in. “Just don’t go falling in love,”

“You think you that good, do you?”

“Oh, I know I am,” You start to walk away from her, only looking over your shoulder to let her lead you to her car. She smiles at your cockiness, excited at the anticipation of finding out.

You follow her over to her car. It is parked in the back of the parking lot, out of sight. Half of it is shielded by trees, and the parking space next is empty. The parking lot isn’t big, so the walk to her car is short.

Once you are there, she opens the back seat. You are starting to feel desperate for her. You want her hands back on you now. You drag her into the car with you so your back is against the seats, and she is laying on top of you. She just has enough time to shut the door before your lips are back on hers and you lose touch with the world.

This time you start to kiss down her neck, and the noises she makes are so pretty. You want to do everything to keep the noises coming. She moans when you suck roughly on the side of her neck, and the noise goes straight to your cunt, dampening the material.

You feel her hands start to rub up your thigh until she is cupping your sex over your jeans. You whine at the feeling and buck your hips when she doesn’t move. The seam of your jeans is being pushed directly into your clit, and you only want more. You continue to lift your hips, and she pushes the palm of her hand harder.

“You like that?” She asks as she sucks on the top of your breast, revealed by the low cut of your top.

You can only moan in response, the feeling of her starting to be too much and not enough, you need to feel her touch every part of your body.

She moves her hand off of your jeans and you whine, wanting to have her hand back. She tries to undo your jean button, struggling with the angle she is in.

“Need help?” You ask, slightly laughing as you watch her struggle. She only glares in response, determined to do it by herself. She finally manages to pull the button and pulls the jeans past your hips and leaves them to rest at the top of your thighs.

You push her short hair behind her ear and grab the back of her neck to pull her into another kiss. This one is bruising and rough, all tongues and teeth. It’s rushed and messy. You can’t kiss her enough, and you never want to stop feeling her lips of yours. But your head tilts back in a moan when you feel the top of her finger slip beneath the lace of your panties. She brushes her hand through the course hair and moves further down.

“Jesus,” Ellie moans, her head falling against your shoulder, pressing sloppy kisses onto the skin. Her fingers dip down and circle your hole, feeling the wetness gathering. “You’re so wet.”

She pulls her finger out and sucks them into her mouth. You feel her moan from where she is sitting against your legs. The sounds she makes after only tasting you are almost pornographic, and you want to commit the image to memory.

“God, you’re so hot,” You say, unable to stop yourself. She flushes under your words and diverts her gaze from your eyes. Your hands are pulling up her shirt and slipping beneath the band of her sports bra. You lightly squeeze the flesh, thumb running over her erect nipple. Her hips jerk against your legs at the feeling. You gently pinch her nipple, wanting to see her reaction. When she keens at your touch, you pinch harder, rolling the hard nub between your fingers.

Her own hands start to wander back down, and her fingers hook into the side of your underwear and pull them down to your jeans. She presses a finger against your clit and makes slow, small circles.

The pressure is torturous, and you moan as she lightly brushes over the bud. She runs her finger further down and teases your entrance, pushing just the tip of her middle finger into you. Your back arches as she pushes her fingers deeper into you.

The palm of her hand bumps against your clit as she curls her fingers up and strokes the rough spot along your walls. She pulls her fingers out before slowly pushing them back in, listening to the wet sound as your clench around her fingers.

“Fucking hell,” She whispers under her breath. She leans forward, pulling your top down to access your boobs. She kneads the skin under her hand and twists your nipple. You hiss at the sensation and feel the pressure in your stomach tightening as she moves her fingers faster. She adds another finger, and you moan loudly at the stretch. Each time Ellie's fingers pump in and out of you, she brushes over that spongy spot that makes your mind go blank.

You hear her moan and open your eyes to watch as she bucks her own hips along your leg. Her own jeans are rubbing against her clothed cunt. She grinds her hips as she uses her other hand to circle your clit again.

The coil in your stomach tightens as she moans in her own pleasure. You lift your own hips to feel her fingers deeper inside of you. Your vision goes white as you feel yourself start to tip over the edge. Her fingers never slow down as she helps you ride out the high. Her hips speed up their movements as she watches you moan and whimper around her fingers, clenching tightly as your juices flow down and stain the backseat of her car.

She pulls her finger out and sucks them clean before grabbing onto the back of the car seat for support. You place your hands on her hips, guiding her movement. She leans forward to catch your lips into a kiss, moaning into your mouth when she feels her own pleasure starts to overtake her. Your grip on her strengthens, and her hips begin to stutter, moving rapidly as she reaches her own orgasm.

Ellie collapses against you and places a searing kiss against your lips. She places her head against your shoulder to try and catch her breath, the thin layer of sweat making your skin feel sticky.

She mumbles something into your collarbone as you watch the condensation drip down the window while you try to reduce your beating heart.

“What?” You ask, craning your neck to try and look down at her. She pulls her head off your shoulder before she talks again.

“Let me fuck you,” She asks, cheeks flushed. Her hair is messy and you run your fingers through it to tame it before cupping her jaw and running your thumb against her cheek.

“You wanna fuck me, baby?” The name slips off your tongue before you can stop it. She seems to like it, her eyes fluttering shut under your touch.

“Yes.” She nods franticly, her blush spreading down her neck the longer you stare at her. “Yes please,”

“Beg for it,”

“What?”

“You really want it? Prove it.”

“Please,” Ellie whines, quickly dissolving to your command. Her pupils are blown wide in desire as her doe eyes look up at you. “I’ll make you feel so good. I need to make you feel good,”

She kisses your neck again, sucking marks into the skin. You don’t think it’s going to take much before you agree, but she’s just so pretty when she begs.

“Please,” She whispers one more time, “I’ll be so good,”

“Okay, baby,”

-

Her apartment is small but you do really have time to look around. Her hands were groping every part of your body, squeezing hard, as she drags you into her room. Her hands work to pull your top off, breaking the heated kiss for a second before her lips are back on yours. Your hands and working on her jeans, pulling them off her legs before tossing them randomly behind you. You push her down onto the bed, taking off your own jeans before straddling her. You pull off her top, and both of you are left in your underwear.

“Can I?” She asks as her hands wrap around your back to undo the clip of your bra. She tugs at the material as she waits for your answer.

“Yes,” You whine, and she unclips your bra before throwing aside. Your nipples harden in the cold air. She takes your nipple into her mouth, sucking at the bud. You moan as she flicks her tongue.

“God, I love your tits,” She bit lightly on the skin, leaving bruises that are bound to show tomorrow.

Your hips buck onto her as you try to find some friction. Your leg slots hers and feels her dampness seeping through her boxers as she moans when you push her knee against her cunt.

You lean your head down to kiss her, moving your lips slowly against hers. Her tongue brushes lightly against your bottom lip. You ground down onto her thigh the longer you two kiss. You start to become impatient, and your arousal becomes too much to ignore.

“Thought you wanted to fuck me?” She pulls back from the kiss, panting. She can only nod, her mind foggy as she stands up to walk over to her closet. She walks back over to you, strap hanging low on her hips.

She pulls you down to the edge of the bed, pulling your underwear off in one smooth movement and spreading your legs. Your pussy glistens in the light, and she runs her thumb through your lips, spreading them apart. She bends down to lick a strip along your folds, barely brushing your clit before aligning her hips with yours.

She runs her cock up and down your folds, bumping into your clit, before she carefully pushes the tip into you. You can feel the stretch, but you are wet enough that she could just slip in. She keeps pressing forward until her hips her pushed flushed against yours. She slowly pulls outs, thrusting her hips faster the second time.

You flipped the two of you over, and her short hair spread out around her head like a halo. You placed your hand on her chest, using her to help push yourself up. You dropped down slowly, feeling every inch of her cock slid inside of your pussy. The tip of her cock brushed your spongy spot on each thrust. Her hands came to the rest of your hips, helping to guide you as your movement became rushed and shaky.

You ground your hips onto hers, pushing the harness into both of your clits deliciously. You could feel that band inside tightening again. She watches as your moans get louder, and you throw your head back in pleasure, your hair hanging down your back.

You curve forward, kissing her shoulder and biting hard as your orgasm overtakes you, the pleasure blinding your senses as your mind quietens. Ellie helps you through, lifting her own hips to meet yours, and you collapse, muscles useless in keeping you up.

As you come back to your senses, you feel Ellie’s hand rub up and down your back, coaxing you back to down. You roll onto your back, carefully sliding off her cock as you feel your cum start to dry against your thighs. You feel the bed dip next to you and look down to see her cleaning your legs with a towel.

“Are you ok?” She asks when she sees you looking.

“Yeah. God, yeah.” You say, out of breath. “You really were good,”

She smirks at your comment and comes to lie next to you. You roll your eyes when she says, told you so.

You yawn and sit up to put your clothes back on before you fall asleep on your bed. You really do want to stay, but you also want to be back in your own bed and don’t want to deal with sneaking out later.

“You don’t want to stay?” She asks as you finish buttoning up your jeans. She sat up in bed, the covers low on her hips. She looks so hot with her hair a mess, and her lips swollen red. You want to crawl under the covers with her, but you shouldn’t. You don’t plan on seeing her again and the sooner you leave, the better it will be for both of you.

“No, I really should go home,” You say in a rush, mind blank of excuses.

“Okay,”

And you leave before you can see her face, but she is disappointed. She would have loved it if you stayed, would have made breakfast the next morning and seen if you wanted to get coffee sometime. And she guesses she can’t be that disappointed. She doesn't even know you, but deep down she knows she would cut her hair off for you in a heartbeat.

[pedroshotwifey]

So, yeah, ummm.. hello. I'm not sure how to explain what I'd like to request cause I'm a bit shy and whatever, but I kinda have this need... Bought a skirt the other week, retro, midi, lots of volume, high-waist, a dream! Got so many compliments and I was always a DUFF and I felt confident for like 3 seconds...And then I thought, imagine Javi seeing you in that skirt for the first time, like at a work party or whatever and fucks you while you're wearing that skirt while everyone else is in another room. Like, IMAGINE, how that skirt would bunch up around the waist, and ooof

Long request made short: Why yes, a shy, innocent person here who was never hit on by men that wants to have chair sex with Javi in some janitors closet or whatever.

Is this too much? Feel like it's too much but anyway...18 from prompt list 4.

Bye.

Hey, babe, so sorry this took a while! I actually started working on it a couple of months ago and just got stuck 😅 Anyways, I hope this is along the lines of what you wanted! (Our girl ended up getting fucked over Javi's desk, but hopefully the smut will make up for that oversight on my behalf. If not, I'll gladly write something else for you ♥)

Pairing: Javier Peña x coworker!fem!reader

Tags/warnings: smut, unprotected PIV sex, mentions of fingering, Javi's huge dick™, semi-public sex, anon's skirt™, self-deprecating thoughts, but javi fixes that right up, dirty talk, getting caught (kind of), pet names (baby, hermosa, etc.), stuff I'm probably forgetting

W/C: 2.7k

Summary: You start thinking down on yourself---luckily, Javi's there to lift you back up. Nothing some praise and a good fuck in his office can't fix.

Mini Skirt

You glance at the clock on the wall from where you’ve been perched on your desk, watching the office mingle. You’ve only been at this party for an hour and you’re already getting the urge to leave. You’d thought it was such a good idea at first, but now you just think you’re an idiot. It was all because of that damn skirt. You sigh and glance down at it. Yeah, that’s why. 

It’s fucking gorgeous, you’re not even going to lie. Retro, short as hell, high waisted, fluffed with luscious volume, and the perfect fit. You’d only worn it once before this, but that was before you’d moved and gotten a job with the Colombian DEA. It had given you a boost of confidence unlike any you’d had before, and had gotten you an absurd amount of compliments. Hell, you’d been confident coming in here with it on.

Now you’re thinking that may have had something to do with the fact that you’d known those people for much longer. Or maybe you’re completely delusional, and the skirt really just isn’t that cute. Not on you, at least. Not a single person has approached you yet. It’s a little humiliating if you’re being honest. You’d waved to Steve when you came in with the intention to talk—and probably ask about where you could find his gorgeous partner you’ve been harboring a crush on since you got here—but he pretty much blew you off. 

It had stung a little bit, but you’d shaken it off and kept going in hopes that someone else would pull you into their conversation. How wrong you were to think that. Everyone has ignored you so far. You’re not sure what you did wrong. Maybe people just don’t like you. That realization hurt like a bitch. You thought these people were your friends by the way they’ve acted toward you during weekdays

You only realize your eyes are tearing up when you look up at the clock again and find it blurry. That’s it. You’re out of here. You’ve learned your lesson. You hop off the desk and start making your way to the door, your face heating as self-deprecating thoughts race through your head a million miles a minute. You don’t look at Javi’s office as you pass it just in case he’s in there. Out of everyone here, you don’t want him to see you like this. You’re not dumb, you know the relationship the two of you have is bordering on flirtatious, but this is far too vulnerable of a state for you to be in to be around him right now. 

Yet you still stop when you hear his voice calling your name as you’re pushing the door open. It’s a bodily reaction for you to halt and start to turn. Of course he would spot you the one time you’re wishing he wouldn’t. You turn all the way, watching him as you try to hold your tears in. Hopefully you can play this off right and be on your way. 

“Yes?” you ask. You hear the waver in it, and you can tell Javi does too by the wince he tries to hide. 

“Where are you going?”

You’re almost taken aback. Why does he care? 

“Home,” you say, about to turn and reach for the door again.

“But you’ve only been here for a little while.” You watch as his eyes drop down your body, slowly taking you in. He licks his lips when they land on your skirt, and it makes you squirm.

“You look good,” he tells you, his gaze back on yours. His voice is raspier than it was a minute ago. It makes you weak in the knees, if you’re being honest. 

“Thank you.” It’s a quiet sound. Your cheeks feel hot. 

“Why are you leaving, carino? Is everything okay?” 

You have to focus hard on holding back tears, as well as embarrassment now. Do you really want to tell him what’s bothering you?

“Everybody’s been ignoring me since I got here,” you blurt before you can stop it. Javi takes a step forward, sympathy flashing in his warm brown eyes for a moment before giving you one more once-over. 

“In that outfit?” he asks. “On top of being the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard of, that’s a damn shame.” 

You look down towards the floor, though a smile starts to tug at your lips. 

“Why don’t you come back in for a while.” His gaze darkens. “My office, maybe?”

Your mouth feels like cotton as you gravitate toward him. Your hand falls into his and you allow him to lead you back into his office as his mouth comes down by your ear. “What are you gonna do, Javi?” you ask, lust clear in your question. 

“Someone needs to ravish you in that fucking skirt before you leave,” he whispers, making you shiver. “And I know nobody else has the balls to bend you over their desk like I’m about to do.”

Your head snaps to look at his smirk. Your eyes are wide, your lips parted with both shock and desire. He chuckles slightly and glances around before stepping into the office with you at his side. You’re dreaming—you’ve got to be dreaming. But the way his hand slips around your waist feels too real.

“And after that, I’m gonna go out there and try to understand what the hell could have been blinding all those people to not want to talk to you.” 

You’re stunned, yet you keep your eyes on him as he shuts and locks the door behind him. Everything is happening so quickly, but you’d be damned if you tried to delay or stop it. 

You’re the one to meet his lips as soon as he turns your way, backing him towards the door as he hungrily reciprocates. His big hands travel down to your skirt, smoothing down the fabric to cradle the flesh of your ass. He’s dangerously close to the heat brewing between your thighs, to the wetness you know is beginning to seep through the seat of your panties. 

But all you can focus on is how intoxicating his tongue mingling with yours is, the plushness of his lips against yours. He tastes faintly like whiskey and cigarettes, just as you would have guessed, but somehow better. 

You moan against him as he squeezes your ass, bringing you flush to him so you can feel his erection against your abdomen. You groan against his lips upon feeling it, your mouth dropping open for a second in surprise. 

“Oh, god, Javi,” you moan. “Please, I need you,” you beg, one of your hands trailing down to gently brush over his covered cock. 

“Shit, baby, alright, I’ve got you.” He starts walking you back, keeping his lips on you until the backs of your thighs hit his desk. As soon as he feels the resistance, he pulls away just enough for you to start to protest, but you quickly stop when he grabs your hips and spins you around to face the desk. His open palm pushes firmly but gently on your back until your chest is flush to the top of it. 

Just the action in itself makes you moan, so when he flips your skirt up and pulls your panties down to your ankles within the next second, your skirt bunching around your hips, you nearly lose it. “I know, hermosa, I know.” His hand makes it way down to your cunt. 

You swear he growls as he strokes you gently, just barely teasing you. “Dios mío,” he mutters. “Fuckin’ soaked for me, gorgeous.” 

“Thought about this a lot,” you breathe. “Thought about your fingers, your cock.” 

Javi groans behind you. 

“Gonne be the fuckin’ death of me, sweet girl.”

“Please, Javi,” you beg again, not sure for what at this point. Something. Anything. 

This time, he puts more pressure on your folds, parting you and letting your wetness smear obscenely on his fingers. You moan as he starts to rub up and down again, teasing your clit with every stroke. 

“Yeah, you want to take my fat cock, hermosa?”

“Yes, Javi, please!” You sound borderline whiny as you push yourself back into him, trying to entice him into giving you a few fingers. 

“Okay, baby, come for me first. Need you ready.” 

You nod, and his fingers move to pay attention directly to your clit, starting to rub tight and fast circles. You can already feel the tension within you rising, getting you close to the edge faster than you previously thought was possible. So when he takes a step forward, pushing his clothed crotch into your ass, and his fingers get harder and faster against you, you fall apart. 

Heat races through you as you arch your back, moaning his name too loud, which prompts him to cover your mouth with his free palm. You settle against it, aftershocks making you shiver as he helps you through your orgasm. 

He removes his hands from you, and you barely have time to settle down before you hear the clinking of his belt being undone, and then the broad tip of his cock nestled at your entrance. 

“You ready, angel?” 

Out of breath, you frantically nod your head, your cheek pressed to the desk as you watch him. 

He chuckles lightly at your enthusiasm. “Words, sweetheart.” 

“Yes, Javi, please fuck me with your big cock,” you plead. 

You Think you hear him mutter something along the lines of “good girl”, as he pushes himself into you, your walls splitting around him. Your mouth drops open, your hands sliding across the desk as you try to grip on to something. Javi holds your hips firmly as he slowly feeds you every inch. 

“God dammit, baby, you’re so fuckin’ tight,” Javi grits through his teeth. 

He waits until he’s fully seated, and then rubs a hand gently up and down your back, soothing you as you adjust to him. He’s so big—long and thick. You think you can feel him in your lungs. But you only wait a few moments before pushing back to him, his cock nudging your g-spot as you signal for him to move. 

Your toes curl when he pulls out the first time, leaving just the tip before smoothly sliding back in. There’s a lewd squelching sound when his pelvis meets your ass, and it only spurs you on. You clench around him, more turned on than you’ve ever been in your life. 

The friction as he builds up a steady pace is absolutely heavenly, his dick dragging deliciously against your soaked walls with each thrust. He’s stretching you out so nice, making room so he can fuck you good and fast. It’s by impulse that you reach one of your hands down between your legs, not to play with your clit, but you spread your fingers and feel the way he’s shoving himself in. 

The soft, wet skin of his cock skims the skin between your fingers, making both of you moan. 

“You like that, huh, honey? Like the way I stretch you out so good?” 

“Yes, Javi,” you keen. “S’ good.” At this point, you’re slurring your speech, growing delirious with every press of his tip to your cervix. It’s a gentle punch, giving you the perfect amount of stimulation to have your second orgasm building. It’s an overwhelmingly addictive feeling, the heat bubbling within you, the way your muscles tense up and make you shake. 

Your mind can only focus on the steady build up, the way his pace gets faster and more frantic with every second, the way his grip tightens on your hips and he lets little grunts slip from his lips. You almost wish you could be turned around so you could kiss him again, hungry and desperate to convey everything you’re feeling right now. 

But even if you did have that option, you probably wouldn’t be able to hold yourself up with the way he’s making your legs feel like jello—absolutely useless at this point. Your head is starting to get dizzy again. You swear you grow wetter as you get closer to coming. 

It happens so suddenly, the words don’t make it to your tongue before you’re gushing around Javi, a silent scream falling from you. It’s intense and long. You only realize your ears have been ringing once they stop and Javi’s praise hits them instead.

“Oh, fuck! Just like that, baby.” 

“Shit, I’m gonna come, where do you want me?” His words are as sloppy and rushed as his thrusts.

“In-Inside,” you blurt, using what little strength you have you reach the hand that had been on your cunt earlier to hold on to his hand still on your hip. 

“Oh fuck,” he grunts before thrusting a few more times and then stilling within you, burrying himself deep and holding you flush to him. He bends down over you, groaning into your ear as his cum paints your walls. 

When he’s finished, he slowly stands back up, pulling himself out of you. His seed drips out, falling down your thighs and pussy. You’re a bit jealous that Javi can see it and you can’t.  He stands there, just admiring for an extra second, before helping you up as well. You watch as he opens a drawer on his desk and pulls out a spare tie. He gives you no time to protest before he starts to wipe your spent cunt with it. 

You study him as he crouches down and cleans you the best he can, admiring his eyes, nose, lips, his sweaty brow and the way his soft curls cling to it. When he’s done, he stands back up, pulling your panties into place. He kisses you again, slower this time, savoring the moment.

Suddenly, there’s a knock at the door. You both look at each other with panicked expressions, which only worsen as a set of keys begin to jingle as whoever it is unlocks the door. Javi barely has time to fix his pants and shove you half-way behind him before Steve’s stepping in like he owns the place. His eyes widen when he looks up, immediately clocking what just went down in here. 

“Shit, sorry, Javi, I thought you’d gone home—” 

His eyes catch on you, apparently just realizing who is in here with him. You swear he almost smiles as visible relief floods his features. 

“Fucking finally. You’ve been killing us.”

Speechless, you just gape at him. What is even going on right now? Javi says nothing either, probably more embarrassed than shocked, though, judging by the red hue crawling up his face when you take a glance at him. Apparently the two of you weren’t as discrete as you had thought.

“Whole office steered clear of the both of you in hopes this would happen and put us out of our misery tonight.”

Steve stays in the doorway, waiting for one of you to say something else. When you don’t, he raises his brows and retreats, calling out as he closes the door, “Also, I’m out twenty bucks now, so feel free to leave that on my desk at some point, Jav.” 

The door shuts and the two of you slowly turn to look at each other. “Did you know they would do that?” You immediately ask. 

Javi shrugs. “They’ve done it before, but I guess I didn’t think about it happening to us.”

“I thought people just didn’t like me, you asshole,” you throw out in a teasing tone. Javi raises his hands in defense. 

“Hey, carino, I didn’t tell anybody to ignore you. That was all them.” 

You shake your head. “Scared to get near me,” you mumble, chuckling slightly. “Bunch’a bullshit.” 

Though you have to admit, it does feel a lot better knowing that the entire office doesn’t hate you. Obviously it’s not their first time playing collective matchmaker. A little harsh, but clearly effective. 

Javi winks at you, as if reading your thoughts. “Alright, baby, let’s get you cleaned up and out in the office to mingle. I think you’re owed more than a few apologies by now.”

You snort and take a step back from him. “After what just happened,” you say, “I think I’m gonna call it even.”

**********

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