#it was never impossibly thin bodies what did it for me. never the look of a magazine model. it was bones. always have to take it too far

[yuwuta]

AFTERGLOW. — JJK BOYS + JEALOUSY

❝tell me that you’re still mine, tell me that we’ll be just fine, even when i've lost my mind  

featuring. gojo, inumaki, nanami, okkotsu

content. a character study in jealousy, no content warnings, no smut in this version, fem reader

word count. 2.8k

SATORU GOJO You’re attempting to finish getting ready for the evening and Satoru has taken his favorite activity: filing through every crevice of your room like he’d been hired as a private investigator. Even though he knows that you know that he’s nothing more than a nosy idiot, Satoru claims that it’s an important and intimate routine that he should know the ins and outs of your living space just as well as you know his—“You know exactly where I keep my boxers, and I don’t even think I’ve seen the inside of your closet—oh, hey, this is cute,” he grins, sticking out his impossibly long arm to shake a thin, lacy bodysuit on a hanger, “How come you’ve never shown me this, huh? Maybe you should wear this instead, it seems easier to take—ouch.”

He groans at the impact of your hairbrush against his shoulder, then swiftly proceeds to pout and whine about how mean you are to him when you return to ignoring him in favor of applying the final touches to your makeup. Your closet seems to be of little interest to him after that, as Satoru crosses the room to hover around you at your vanity instead. He leans in too closely, as if watching you apply bronzer was a novel sight to him. You flip your brush quickly, barely tapping at his nose and laughing at his scrunched reaction.

“Your reflexes aren’t so sharp today,” you tease. You’re prepared for a witty response, and when you glance, there’s a familiar mischief shimmering in your boyfriend’s eyes; but, then his gaze ventures slightly past you, and all signs of playfulness drain from his face. Instead of getting revenge, or annoying you further, Satoru reaches over your body and into a shallow jewelry dish to pick up the bracelet he’d spotted. It’s a dainty little thing, thin gold with a small heart in the middle glittering with shiny stones, that he threads along his fingers with scrutiny before standing up straight to dangle it in front his face for further inspection, “This is new to me.”

Perhaps you’d spoken too soon, because only Satoru would spot that one piece of jewelry amongst the others swimming the tray. His eyes flutter between the bracelet and you, and you can practically hear the gears turning in his head, and the accusation he won’t say outloud—did you buy yourself heart-shaped jewelry, or is there something else going on here?

You sigh and keep your expression and voice neutral, your attention seemingly still focused on the finishing touches of your makeup, “It’s new to you because I haven’t worn it in years,” you tell him, “My ex gave it to me.”

There’s a beat of silence, and you occupy yourself with your mascara, before Satoru speaks, “That makes sense, it doesn’t look all that promising. What is it—barely gold plated?” he taunts, sweeping away his air of concern with one of mockery, standing up straight to twirl the bracelet around his index finger, “Figures your ex boy toy had no taste for the finer things in life. You’re worth more than this, my darling.”

You shake your head with light laughter, patting in the remnants of your setting spray before standing. Satoru continues on, rambling about the poor construction of your commercially produced bracelet—holds it between his index finger and thumb like it’ll poison him if he exposes it to too much of his skin, and you can’t help but smile as you reach for the lapel of his blazer to pull him down for a kiss. He has no words of objection to this, pulling you in by the waist for another and another and another, before you finally pull away, “Come, let’s go. I don’t feel like getting lectured by Utahime for your tardiness again.”

You’re too preoccupied for the rest of the evening to notice the item missing from your jewelry dish. What you do notice, two afternoons later, shortly after Satoru has left to pick up Nanami from the airport, is a blue velvet box with your name written in pretty, gold cursive along the top—and inside, a gold tennis bracelet, glittering with diamonds, with a necklace to match. You have no doubt they’re legitimate, if not for the way the sparkle, then by the text that rings through on your phone after you question Satoru:

from: satoruwu 🫧🩵 — only the best for my baby <33

TOGE INUMAKI

Toge knows that the price of coffee has gotten way out of hand, but what bothers him more is the decreasing pace of said coffee getting made and the increase of crazy, caffeine addicted people who feel the need to be loud around him while he’s waiting for his drinks. You, however, seem to take pleasure in his suffering, as you always thank him and coo, saying he looks cute despite his grumbly demeanor, “You always look like you fought a war for two cups of coffee, Toge.” 

He rolls his eyes as he steps into your apartment, not minding the sound of your giggling behind him. He sets the drinks on your island, and pulls out a stool to sit on. You round the marble, reaching him just as he’s pulled down his mask for a thank you kiss to his cheek. He wants to make you suffer for longer, but when you lean against him, he can’t help but to return the hug and kiss your forehead—you’re welcome, always.

Still, he pokes at your head, waits until you dig your head out of his shoulder with curious eyes, before he points to the Keurig sitting in the corner of one the wall-mounted counters, and moves his hands to sign, “Why keep that if you spend all my money on coffee?”

“Rude. I offer to pay all the time,” you chide, poking at his collar bone and standing straight. You make your way back to the opposite side of the counter, and reach to a drawer to fetch a straw, before shrugging, “My ex left it here when we broke up. I keep it for the aesthetic—I’m not even sure if it works.”

A myriad of thoughts runs through Toge’s mind—most importantly: had your ex left other things here, and how quickly could he get rid of them?

“Besides,” you break his murderous train of thought, “None of the pods make good espresso. Couldn’t even make my hot girl latte if it worked.”

“Your ‘hot girl latte’ is iced,” Toge signs.

Under normal circumstances, a comment like that would earn him a flick to the forehead, but you can tell that behind the sarcasm, Toge is actually upset. So, in lieu of teasing him, you walk back over to him; settling yourself behind his stool to give him a back hug. You lean your cheek against his shoulder and press a small kiss there, “You’re cute.” 

Toge huffs, shaking his shoulders for dramatic effect. You laugh, leaning up to give him another kiss on the cheek. “You’re cute and you have nothing to worry about. It’s an old coffee machine.” 

He hums, taking another sip of his coffee before turning, barely bumping the top of your forehead, so you can see his raised eyebrow. You lean up to press a kiss to his lips, “You’re cute, and you have nothing to worry about, and I love you.” 

He finally smiles again, content, and grants you another kiss to your forehead. With his mood back to normal, the two of you finish your coffee and carry on with your scheduled study session as normal (normal being Toge leaving you alone for all of twenty-seven minutes, before he starts taking videos of you with various outrages Snapchat filters on).

However, the following day when you return from your classes, there’s four new items on your kitchen counter: a silver espresso machine, a reusable Starbucks cup (already filled with your usual drink), a neatly folded apron decorated with cartoon Shiba Inus, and a small card with Toge’s bubbly handwriting on it: “Don’t worry, I’ll still pay for you $6 pink drinks, but if you wanted to thank me by making coffee in just the apron, then I wouldn’t complain ;)”

KENTO NANAMI Kento is a rational man; he favors using logic to carry out decisive actions, rather than letting his emotions get the best of him. So, the rational part of him knows that it’s not a big deal that the lunch bag and bento-style tupperware you bring to work was a gift from your ex-girlfriend; but there’s a small, ugly, green part of him overrun with jealousy and another bitter-tasting feeling he can’t quite name.

Because it’s not that important. It makes sense that you keep using them—the lunch bag is nice, leather, sleek, and insulated, and the tupperware is sturdy and functional. The whole system is sustainable, practical. It was a good present, one that objectively serves a good purpose whether or not it was given by an ex or not.

Maybe that’s what he hates so much. That this person still has room in your life, even though you haven’t spoken to them since you’ve met him. Kento doesn’t like that reminder—that there are people out there who might be a good fit for you, a better one than him. Those ugly feelings aside, there’s a sour taste in his mouth when he packs your lunch now; knowing that the food he cooked for the two of you—the meal you’re both going to indulge in—sits in a container gifted to you by an ex-lover.

Irrational to the point of being unfocused, he doesn’t realize how close the glass is to the edge of the counter, and when he turns to scoop more rice, he accidentally knocks it over with his elbow. It breaks into tiny pieces on the ground, the small portion of rice and chicken spilling onto the ground. The sound draws you out of your bedroom, mascara wand in hand and robe still on to call for him, “Kento? Everything okay?”

“I… it was an accident,” he explains, setting the spoon down in favor of reaching for a napkin, dropping to his knee with a light sigh, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to break it.”

Your laughter surprises him, prompts him to look up at you with broken glass shards pooled in his palm, “You don’t have to worry so much! It happens, we have a million more.”

There’s something about the way you don’t seem to acknowledge it being special to you in any way—Kento’s not even sure if you recognize what broke—that reassures him. Because it really was an accident, but Kento doesn’t mind that he managed to break this particular plate. 

When he shoos you back to getting dressed, he finishes picking up the broken glass shards. There’s a certain lightness to his actions now, petty as it may be, he’s happy. Spends extra time writing a note for you to see when you unpack your food before he retires to the bathroom to start getting ready himself. 

Maybe he could do something about that lunchbox next. You don’t seem to mind.

YUUTA OKKOTSU Thursdays are Yuuta’s favorite day of the week because on Thursdays, you two meet up at your spot, which is really just a set of twin benches in the west quad, but it’s your place and Yuuta loves it. You will have reserved a study room in your favorite library, and Yuuta will buy snacks for your study session before you both head to the library in an attempt to finish up your work for the week in order to keep your Friday evenings free.

Yuuta usually gets to the bench before you, a combination of the engineering building being a little bit closer, and his legs being a lot longer. He doesn’t mind waiting for you, as it’s usually his first time seeing you in two days (your Tuesdays are too packed for anything other than a shared coffee break between lectures, and Wednesdays are his hell days), and spotting you through the crowd of dissipating students always brings a smile to his face.

You look cute today, an oversized sweater enveloping your frame that Yuuta can imagine you cozying into and nearly dozing off in your dreaded microbiology lecture. He laughs to himself at the mental image, just as you stop in front of him to ponder, “Something funny?”

Yuuta shakes his head, leaning down to kiss your forehead with a proper greeting. “Nothing,” he reassures you, reaching around to pull your backpack off of your shoulders, and slings it over one of his, “You look cute. Did you mean to buy a sweater big enough to double as a blanket?”

“The oversized look is in,” you scrunch your nose and roll your eyes, letting Yuuta take your hand in his despite his teasing, “I don’t even think I bought this, honestly. It might be Todo’s? Or Toge’s—it might even be Maki’s at this point.”

Yuuta freezes. He feels the world stop and a million different emotions surge through him at once, but the most prevalent of them all is something ugly and green. He could deal with Toge, though he doubts he’s the culprit. While you two shared a penchant for oversized clothing, Toge was more often than not the thief, rather than the lender, and he’s pretty good at keeping his collection of stolen goods under lock and key. Maki was out of the question, too, because you shared a class with Nobara earlier today, and there’s no way you’d have made it out of there wearing her girlfriend’s sweater.

So it probably was Todo’s. And Yuuta had said you looked cute. Though he wishes the ground would open up and swallow him whole, his moment of self-pity is waning, and overcast by something steely, something too-hot bubbling in his chest. The question of why you have it goes over his head—he’s not concerned with that, nor will he fault you for it—the matter at hand is that you’re wearing it. And, sure, Yuuta thought you looked good in it before, but he could name sixteen other things you’d look better in at this very moment.

You’ve gone on to ramble about something that happened earlier, but Yuuta’s not listening. He drops your hand first, then both of your backpacks on the bench behind him, before tapping at your wrists. You don’t seem to understand him, cocking your head to the side with a pensive expression, but Yuuta only taps at your wrists again with a simple command, “Up.”

It doesn’t seem like you understand, but you follow anyway, and Yuuta is pulling the sweater up and off of your body before you can question him. He tosses it onto the bench with little care, then removes his white jacket and places it atop your backpacks. “What are—” you don’t have time to finish before he’s pulled his own hoodie off his body, and slid it over your head.

Yuuta smooths out the fabric under his palms with a satisfied grin on his face. Much better.

“Aw, Yuuta!” you bring a hand to tug at the strings of the hood, a wicked smile replacing your dazed blinking, “I didn’t know you were so possessive.”

You tease him until he’s red up to his ears, embarrassed and borderline bashful, a complete 180 from the looming jealousy that took over him moments before as he shimmies on his jacket again and picks up your back backs. He huffs, as you tease him, circling an arm around his as you begin to walk to the student center. He doesn’t know if he agrees with your declarations of him being a possessive boyfriend, but he does know that he’s your boyfriend, and your boyfriend only.

“So, you think I look cute, still?” you question, picking up a pack of gummy worms. Yuuta lets out a breath of laughter, pressing another kiss to your forehead, “Even cuter than before.”

(Two days later, Todo can be found screaming wildly to Itadori when he comes across a familiar hoodie strewn across a random bench on campus—who considers visiting the Student Health Clinic to make sure an eardrum wasn’t ruptured—because, “Bro, what the hell? I swear I fucking lost this thing!”)

[nariism]

another sunny day — i. rin

handcuffed together + matchmaking gone wrong

synopsis. rin doesn't get how his "friends" can come up with such insane ideas. like, seriously. or: blue lock tries to play matchmaker with a flustered loser and their terribly unfriendly teammate.

wc. ~1.1k

— for @jenoutof10 🤞 | event masterlist ✉️

"don't be mad, but..."

rin's eye twitches.

4 words. 4 measly words is all it takes for his blood pressure to start rising. that, and the fact that isagi can't meet his bloodthirsty gaze.

in all the time that he's had the displeasure of knowing these morons, he's come to know one simple fact: nothing good ever happens when they break news starting with 'don't be mad'.

before his teammates can even get a chance to explain further, rin interjects.

"you lost it, didn't you? you fucking lost it."

bachira's lips just press into a thin line, mischief missing from his expression where it usually permanently dances. now, he just looks utterly terrified and a little guilty.

"hey, but there are worse people to be cuffed to!" bachira nervously states. and at that, all eyes land on you.

you'd been hoping that maybe rin's temperment would have drawn all attention away from you right now—that they at least wouldn't have to witness the absolute despair in your face realizing you've been cuffed to your long-term crush for an indefinite amount of time.

but their eyes are heavy on you, trying to scrutinize your reaction. you want nothing more than the ground to open up and swallow you whole.

the chains connecting you jingle impossibly loud as silence fills the room. you flounder slightly, caught off guard by the collective weight of everyone's eyes, and rin seems to understand how dire your situation is. he quickly gathers everyone's attention back to himself.

"you all better crawl on your hands and knees until you find that fucking key."

to think that an entire group of people could have gone through with something so stupid—rin doesn't get how his "friends" can come up with such insane ideas. like, seriously. handcuffing the two of you together as a last ditch attempt to solve the last puzzle of their escape room? he would probably be laughing at their idiocy if he wasn't the one locked to your side right now.

and why him, of all people? was it so obvious that he was maybe, kind of, sort of a little into you? no, impossible. he's incredibly good at hiding his feelings for you, so much that he's completely stone-faced while you're busy panicking beside him.

what should have been an innocent team-building exercise put together by their calm and collected manager has suddenly turned you into a blithering fool and him into a cranky asshole.

he'd always had suspicions that you'd liked him, never able to look him straight in the eye without fidgeting and messaging him out of the blue for seemingly insignificant reasons. ("did you try the new garigari-kun flavour?" or "i saw this cat that reminded me of you," and even "did you eat dinner yet?")

if you had told his teammates, you made a grave error. a fatal mistake. because they were all half-wits who would want nothing more than to try playing cupid, and he knows that only they could come up with a plan so stupid and still claim it to be foolproof.

frantically searching for the key, they get to work scouring the floor and drawers—anywhere they could have left it in the last twenty minutes. he takes the opportunity to focus on his breathing, as his therapist had advised him to do when he was feeling overwhelmed with emotion.

"you okay?" rin asks quietly, lathering a hand down his face in exasperation. you hum nervously, clutching yourself instinctively. it draws his hand closer to your body but he doesn't mention it, instead letting it dangle limply in front of you. the warmth emanating from you makes him realize just how frazzled you are.

he decides he should guide you to the next room where it's quieter, all the puzzles already solved and abandoned. he sits you down on the sofa, standing in front of you with your hands connected in the middle.

"what if we're locked together forever?" you murmur.

rin looks at you in confusion, perplexed by your sudden loss of functioning brain cells. you were always so rational, it's strange to see you so...

you meet his intense stare and the rest of his train of thought derails into a disastrous dumpster fire.

"i... don't think that'll happen."

"but what if we are?"

"there are worse people i could be locked to."

silence suffocates you. rin blinks at you, but doesn't back down as you fumble over your own tongue.

"you think so?" you finally manage out.

god almighty, you need to break this eye contact before he shrivels up and dies. okay, so maybe his feelings for you aren't entirely miniscule, but that doesn't mean he's going to get any enjoyment out of this.

he scoffs, gesturing to the next room. "at least it's you and not them."

you sputter in embarrassment, hand yanking toward your face as you try and cover your cheeks with your palms. his hand follows, nearly smacking you in the nose but you don't seem to care or even notice.

he slowly seats himself beside you, dragging your conjoined hands back between your bodies and settling on the couch.

"i hate this," you admit. "it feels claustrophobic."

rin knows exactly what you mean. your hand is inches away from being in his—he can hardly breathe. he would rather eat natto every day for the rest of his life than come to terms with that, though, so instead he just sneers at you funny.

"you have claustrophobia?"

"i just mean that we're so close right now."

"so?"

you gulp loudly. "and—" you sigh, breaths shaking. "well, you're sort of right. i guess it could be worse."

"...you're weird," he tells you.

your lips quirk up into a tiny smile, so small that he would have missed it if he weren't chained to your side right now. for a moment, he almost forgets all about why he's even in this situation in the first place.

"sorry," you stammer, fingers fumbling around with the hem of your sweater. "i hope they find that key soon."

he stares at you for a few more seconds, tries to trace the outline of your face with his eyes and memorize the curve of your smile.

"yeah," he lies. "me too."

("is it working?"

"i don't know, i can't hear them!"

"shh," chigiri hisses. "i'm trying to listen!"

rin puts his head into his hands at their volume, bringing your hand along with his motion. he glares in their direction, catching a glimpse of his team stacked on top of each other as they peer into the room.

"idiots..." he mutters. you look at him, puzzled. "i'm surrounded by idiots.")

© ALABOADOA 2023 — please do not translate or post my works to other platforms.

[livelaughlovesubs]

My pretty doll

Dom!reader x sub!scara - reader is gender neutral

Warning: feminisation, lingerie, clothes sex, pegging (can be read as a dick), unprotected sex, belly bulge, dacryphilia

Dunno if you read this already, it’s from my old blog: so just a repost (was the only thing I had haha)

Scara was and had always been a brat, never listening to your commands unless he’s in sub-space. Though that was fine by you, because in the end, you both knew it will play out exactly how you want. No matter how much he tries to deny it, he was just your adorable doll after all. Which is why after convincing him, he eventually put on the set of white undergarments you bought him. The fabric was thin and almost transparent, since it was lace you could almost see everything. It felt itchy against his skin, he wasn’t used to these kinds of clothes. The bra was a bit big, or maybe he was too flat. One of the straps was hanging down his shoulder, so he crossed his arms in front of his chest. He also had a cute and small bulge in his panties, thighs clenched together after he noticed you staring.

“Of course you’d like this you pervert.” He mocked, turning around and showing you his shoulder, a pretty pathetic try to cover himself a little. First you made him wear such lewd stuff, and now all you are doing is stare? Not to mention how the loose strap was annoying him, it didn’t want to stay where he wanted it to. Even though he was still insulting you, his face was a flushed red now. Blushing furiously while averting his gaze. He was all bark after all, he could never say those things while looking at you, otherwise he’d fold immediately. “Yet it seems like someone enjoys this even more than me.” You teased while gazing up at him, until you waved him over to you.

The puppet hesitated a little, thinking about the best course of action before walking up to you. “What?” A firm and annoyed tone, a big show just to hide his excitement and nervousness. “Just wanted to have a better look at you, turn around.” “Who are you to tell me what to do?” You giggled, he was trying too hard to seem in control, but that is basically impossible when his face already looks like a mess, it was hilarious. “Come on, scara, do a little twirl for me.” He pouted, crossing his arms and looking away in defiance. Then turning around slowly, he always ends up doing what you want, so why keep making it difficult? Was it due to his pride?

When his back was facing you, you reached your hands out to grab his small waist. “Ugh?!” His body twitched, and he stopped in his track, looking over his shoulder to ask you, “What are yo-” “shhh, don’t make a fuss now.” Before he knew it, you pulled him closer to you, to the point his back was pressed against your body. Then you grind against his butt as you whispered into his ear, “can I stick it in?”

Such an indecent question! How could you- ugh, you really are the worst! “Do what you want, I don’t care.” Scaramouch said, hands grabbing your gently while he felt something rubbing against the downside of his crotch, basically making him grind on it. His breathing hitched, were you planning on..? No, no way, you two haven’t done it for so long, there is no way he could take you whole… right?

“Scara, you look adorable today, but I still think you look the cutest when getting fucked.” Ahh…what were you implying? Did you really want to..? Your fingers moved his panties to the side, not removing them, just out of the way. Enough that you could see his puffy pink hole. The other hand was already reaching for the bottle of lube. Poor boy couldn't even protest before you started preparing him roughly, sticking two fingers inside him. “MmhAa~!”He gasped at the feeling, body jerking forwards. “Oh dear, did I surprise you there?” You were definitely mocking him. He gritted his teeth, wanting to insult you. If only you didn't start pushing the tip against his entrance at that moment.

“UgHh! Ah-ahh.” His legs shook and went weak underneath him, if you weren't holding him, he would have crashed down in that moment. You were very gentle during the injecting though, taking your precious time bottoming out inside him. “Finally you learned how to shut up.” “ughh. fu-fuck you-!” Tsk, still running his foul little mouth however he wants. After many difficulties, you after managed to fit the whole length in, at this point he had his tongue hanging out and eyes rolled to the back to his skull. Like always, he was already getting addicted to this, such a dirty slut he was. “you seem to enjoy this quite a bit, scara.” You teased, and his rim clenched down on you at that. “S-Stop it, UhmM..” “Are you sure about that? You don't want me to continue?” He went quiet after that one, he didn’t know what to say. Of course he wants to keep going at it, but his pride would never allow him to give up this quickly.

You started moving because he didn't give you an answer, though only gently grinding your hips against him. “So? I have yet to hear your answer.” All it took was a few small moves for him to succumb to pleasure, “UgHhnN!! Da-damn it.. I to-old you do what you want.” At first you were still on the nicer side, after finally getting the consent you needed, you switched up to pounding him like an animal. He cried out after the first trust, gripping your hands even more tightly, until his nails dug into your skin. “AaGghhnn, oOhh! Mhm, oh-gahh!” In the matter of seconds, your lovely doll was reduced to a moaning mess. Your dick just felt so good inside him, hitting so many deep and pleasurable spots. All he felt was bliss and ecstasy.

Your chin was placed on his shoulder, looking over at his body. You couldn't help but smirk when you saw the small belly bulge on the tiny boy, commenting on it with a low voice, “do you see that right here?” Then you rubbed the bulge with your palm, he whined at that, “uhmMNN!” “Does this feel good? Having me so deep inside you?” He couldn’t even respond properly now, only squirming around in your embrace. “This belly bulge is so cute~” He heard you say. A belly bulge..? The thought of it was kind of scary, though he swore you were truly that deep inside him. Suddenly you went faster, making his muscles tense up. You just loved how erotic his body was, and how enticing it was to watch the bulge appear and disappear, this was truly your greatest joy. “GAAhh! AhhhH- cu-cumming! Mhm-ngh, i-i..!” He was on the verge of breaking now, everything was too much, the bra was hanging on his arms and about to fall off completely.

“Aww, does my baby want to cum? Then beg and tell me what a pretty doll you are for me.” Even now you were some mean to him, teasing him like this. Can't you tell how desperate he is? “GuhHh… please let me cu-cum.. hmm, please..I-I'm your aAhh.. pretty plaything!!” Right, him obeying your commands after being so rebellious just feels so good. And with that, he came while still wearing the lace underwear, soaking the panties with his semen. A slightly darker spot was visible from his bulge, then a white fluid was seeping out from beneath it. His thighs quivered while he gasped for air, his cum dripped all the way down his milky inner thighs too. Sweat was mixing with big, fat tears, cheeks redder than ever as he pulled a super adorable expression.

“My my, we forgot to take it off. Now you've defiled the lingerie set, what to do~?” You cooed at him in a faked sad manner, as if you were pitying him. A big grin spread on your lips afterwards, he knew you were planning something again. Well, you weren’t exactly hiding it after all. All he could hope for was that he won't end up too tired at the end of this session.

[guiltyasdave]

glitch

pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader

word count: ~1k

summary: Prequel to nights are so starry, blood moonlit. How you and Javi became neighbors with benefits.

warnings/tags: explicit smut (-> 18+ only!), smoking, alcohol consumption, able-bodied reader, a hint of dom!Javi, unprotected p in v, kinda rough sex, ass slaps, dirty talk, oral (f receiving), Javi is a menace, a hint of angst and feelings because of who i am as a person

a/n: written for @iamasaddie’s writing challenge 2.0 with the prompt "never knew you were such a freak", and since my first story about these two was also part of one of aly's writing challenges, it just made sense to revisit them :)

dividers as always by @saradika-graphics <3

find my full masterlist here and follow @guiltyasdavenotifs for fic updates!

It had started out with fleeting glances in the hallway, quick greetings when your apartment doors opened at the same time, then short conversations on your adjoining balconies, late night talks with your feet propped up on the railing and his back leaning against it, sometimes exchanging a cigarette or a light, or occasionally a bottle of beer when one of you had run out. 

Of course you noticed the ridiculously tight jeans that really shouldn't look that good on him, the way his broad shoulders strained against his clothes, and the way his shirts always revealed a little too much of his golden-skinned chest. You couldn't deny the fact that your neighbor was incredibly attractive, and that he knew it. 

You probably should have said no when late one evening, after Javi had found you on your balcony, smoking and watching the glistening city lights, he invited you to share a glass of bourbon. Together. At his place. 

He had been flirting with you, which you suspected he did with every woman he met, and you had tried not to pay it any mind, but you were well aware of how this evening would end if you accepted. 

You should have said no, and a stronger, less lonely version of you might have, but you craved human contact, craved to be touched by someone else than yourself, and if the sounds that traveled through the thin walls from his bedroom to yours frequently enough were any indication, Javi knew what he was doing. 

You should have said no, because it became clear to you very quickly that Javier Peña would ruin you for all other men.

He was more gentle, more caring than you had expected him to be and he prioritized your pleasure in a way that you had never experienced from any man before. He took you to heights that you hadn’t thought possible before, and it was addicting.

You should have said no, but you hadn’t, and now you keep coming back for more. 

You keep coming back for the way his skin tastes under your tongue, for the way his lips press against yours, swallowing moans and whimpers, for the way his fingers and his cock reach so deep inside of you that you still feel him hours later, when you have said your good nights and crawled under the covers of your own bed. Never his, never crossing the line to a different kind of intimacy.

It’s another one of those nights, a soft knock on a door, a mutual understanding passing between you, gentle touches that burned under your skin until they got more demanding, until you both gave in to that pull that kept you coming back. 

He’s already made you come on his tongue twice, until you were dripping onto his sheets, his name the only word in your mind and on your lips. You’re on your hands and knees, limbs shaking, trying to accommodate his length and the harsh rhythm that he’s setting. 

“Taking me so fucking well,” he pants, running his hands down your back and over your ass. You chase his touch, goosebumps forming in its wake, your moans filling the air as he keeps hitting impossibly deep inside of you. 

His palm connects with your skin, nothing more than a playful swat, but the sensation sears through you, lighting your nerve endings on fire as you all but scream your pleasure into the softly lit bedroom.

“Oh?” His voice is low, rough in his throat. You don’t need to turn your head and look behind you to know that he’s smirking down at you right now. “You liked that, huh?” 

You nod eagerly, too far gone to be ashamed of the way your hips are bucking back against him, working desperately to feel him deeper inside of you. 

He slaps you again, harder this time, and you feel yourself clenching around him, feel the way a new wave of slick is coating his cock. His fingers dig into your shoulder and he pulls you up, until your torso is pressed against his, his mouth moving against the delicate skin of your neck. 

“Never knew you were such a freak, baby,” he whispers, his lips curling into a grin, teeth nipping at you.

“Shut up.” You try to hold your voice steady, ignore the throbbing need between your thighs, but he just chuckles and presses another kiss against the side of your throat before he loosens his hold and pushes you back towards the mattress. 

His hands grab your hips instead, pulling you into his thrusts, filling you so deeply that you see stars behind your eyelids.

“You want me to do it again?” You hate how smug he sounds, would love to deny him the satisfaction, but god, you do want him to. 

“Fuck– please, Javi.” You’re breathless, reduced to a mess of trembling thighs and desperate whimpers, and you wish that you could stay like this forever. 

He slaps your ass twice in quick succession and deepens his thrusts at the same time, punching all air from your lungs. His hand snakes down to graze your clit and you’re overwhelmed with sensations, pure pleasure coursing through your veins so suddenly that it’s almost disorienting. You collapse onto the sheets, your pussy pulsing around him as your body shakes through its third orgasm of the night and you’re whimpering his name as he buries himself deep inside of you and comes with a groan, painting your insides with his release. 

After more kisses, more touches, and a shared cigarette, you get dressed and eventually, his apartment door clicks shut behind you. You lean your back against the wall, closing your eyes and breathing deeply for a moment before you enter your own place.

Again, you know that you’ll be coming back for more. And that no matter how many times you come back, it will never be enough.

thank you for reading 🤍 if you liked this, please consider reblogging, leaving a comment or sending an ask, it truly makes my day every single time!

[gyllenhaalstories]

FREAK LIKE ME — ELWOOD DALTON x PLUS SIZE! READER ❤️‍🩹

summary: what doesn't kill you makes you freakier, amirite?

warnings: blood & injury, smut (mild blood kink, praise kink, blowjob, nipple play, titjob). 18+ NO MINORS.

word count: 2120

gifs credits: @/tay-swifts (cropped) / divider credits: @/firefly-graphics

notes: me? writing for dalton again? groundbreaking. ❣️🩹 thank you for reading & REMEMBER TO REBLOG!

"Hey, Doc," Dalton smiled. "Do I need surgery?"

You walked away from the sink, holding your clean hands in the air as to not soil them. "Sorry." Your chin pointed at the counter. Dalton climbed on it, next to all of the medical supplies, while you sat on a chair in front of him. "You're a lost cause."

"That's a rough diagnosis." He shrugged lightly, his smile widened when you took a closer look at the old bandage.

You sighed and only then his smile faded a bit.

"I tried." He answered before you could reprimand him.

You had told him to be careful and avoid abrupt movements, you could not have asked something more impossible than that.

"They started it. I had to end the fight and... Yeah." Another shrug, but this time he winced when you detached the bandage off his skin. The feeling of the glue pulling at his skin and the wound exposed to the air reminded him it was not all fun and games. He forgot about that reminder pretty quickly.

You disposed of the old gauze and started to clean the stabbing wound. You liked to do most of those tasks in silence, focused on taking care of your man.

The silence left more space for Dalton's noises to be heard. The winces, whimpers and gasps echoed loudly in your mind while you patched his wound. There were moans too. Lots of them.

When you first helped him out with his situation, having failed to convince him that nurses were better suited for the task, you figured the moans were just how he expressed his pain.

Maybe it truly was his way to express it. You thought that when you got hurt for as long as he did, the reactions were numbed. Instead of a scream, that was what he would do. You were not wrong, only you were not exactly right.

Because Dalton loved the pain, in a masochist type of way that you still had trouble to understand. He said multiple times before how he liked "to pay for it".

You had never questioned him further. You had never explored this further. Maybe, just maybe, you could entertain this part of him...

"Hey, you good?" He noticed how you stalled, there was concern and worry laced in his voice.

You cleared your throat, realizing that you were lost in your thoughts. "Yeah. It's just..." You scrambled for an answer and pulled open the wrapping of the new bandage. "It looks gnarly."

"You should see the other guy." Dalton scoffed, but suddenly he flinched with his lips curled up and face scrunching. He waited for a second or two, then he breathed out. "Oooh, that hurts."

You watched his reaction closely while you pressed your hand on the bandage, hoping this one will last for longer than a few hours.

His eyes locked with yours. He smiled, again. "I'm not complaining."

You stroked your thumb over his skin while he enjoyed the moment, not pulling away just yet.

His body relaxed, getting used to the pressure against the lesion. Oh yeah, he was loving it.

You stood up and he was visibly disappointed. You were not gone for long, you washed your hands and joined him by the counter again. "You're a freak. You know that, right?"

"I'm aware." He wore that title with pride like a champion's belt.

You pulled your shirt above your head and disposed of it on the floor. You held Dalton's gaze while you knelt down in front of him. Your shirt serving as a thin pillow for your knees.

He stood up, immediately searching for something better that would not hurt your body, but your hands were already busy unzipping his jeans.

You took in the view of the striking contrast between the white bandage and his tan skin. You drank in the sight of Dalton towering over you while your eyes explored his abdomen and chest, all the way up to his face that was painted with a layer of curiosity.

But mostly lust. He watched you struggle to pull his free his cock from his clothes. "Good job." He praised you when you peppered kisses over his semi hard cock.

You stuck your tongue out and licked a few long strands along his shaft before you took him in your mouth.

Dalton's grunts got louder as he got harder at the feeling of your tongue teasing him. "I told you..."

You pulled your head back and twirled your tongue around his tip. You looked up at him and batted your eyes with a hint of innocence that made him smirk.

"It's better when you do it instead."

You knew he mostly referred to his aversion to hospitals (and pain killers), but the way he started to slowly push his cock deeper into your mouth confirmed his words had a double meaning.

He loved what you were doing right now, he loved how you turned him on with just a touch, but he also loved the attention and care you poured into your actions and into making sure that he was as safe as he could be. Not many people cared about him, at least not after the events. All he needed was you.

He snapped you back to reality when he made you gag around his cock. You pulled back, hands leaning on your thighs while you tried to breathe through the coughing.

"It's okay, breathe slowly. You can do it." He walked you through every step of the process so you did not panic at the sudden lacks of oxygen. "I know, it always takes you by surprise but you love it, don't you? I love it too." He spoke, softly, and he presented his tip to your shaky chin. He gathered some of the spit and your lips parted open for him. "I love it when you gag on my cock."

Another harsh thrust hit the back of your throat and tears pooled in your eyes. You held on his strong thighs instead and, somehow, that helped.

"I love it even more when you cry like this. So beautiful." He placed a gentle hand on the side of your face, his thumb caressing your cheek. You melted against his hand, but he used this sweet gesture to set the pace.

Your head bopped back and forth on his length, each time you took him better and deeper. You felt a bit less scared of the gagging, though it happened plenty of times. You figured out a long time ago that you would never get used to just how big your man truly was.

Dalton began to properly fuck your face, never pulling you too far away from him. He loved to feel you struggle around him. He loved to feel your hands try and grasp at something, anything, to help you stay focus and not push him off. He especially loved the way you pressed on his wound.

You earned the loudest moan you had heard from him today. So, you increased the pressure of your palm against the bandage and you toyed with his pain tolerance that was terrifyingly high.

Dalton played with you instead. He tested just how much you could take, keeping his cock so deep that your nose brushed over his shaved skin and that your chin touched his balls that were now covered in spit.

He gave you breaks to catch your breath and you smiled at him every time. He told you, over and over again, just how pretty you looked for him down there until your cheeks warmed up from all the praise and compliments.

So he shoved his cock inside of you again, with a newfound sense of urgency. He was getting close and you could feel it by the way he throbbed heavily in your mouth. You could hear it, too, with the melody of grunts and moans that he made. Dalton lost a bit of the mercy he was known to save only for you. He was chasing his own high and you happily let him.

Your left hand rested on his waist, nails digging into his flesh as you tried to take his pounding. On the other side, you kept pressing his wound. The more he winced and he scrunched his face in pain, the more you knew that he was enjoying himself.

It took more tears on your face, more muffled moans around his cock and a few more thrusts for Dalton to cum in your throat. So far down, you had no choice but to swallow his load. He pulled out, slowly, and smiled from ear to ear at the mess of spit and cum that covered both your face and his cock. He nodded briefly, giving you permission to clean up the mess.

You earned another good job, spoken in that soft voice of his that made your brain melt into a puddle. Just like you did at the beginning, you left small kisses all over his body. You focused on his defined v-line and puffy abs while working your way up.

Dalton helped you to stand up, guessing that all this time spent on your knees might have hurt a bit. "Easy, easy. I got you." He supported your arms until you were back up on your feet, then he insisted you sat down.

You did not protest, you were at the perfect angle now. You wrapped your arms around his waist, dragging your hands across his skin. You brushed over the bandage, only then noticing a touch of red through the material. You pressed a kiss in the valley between his pecs.

Kisses that continued until a faint grunt emanated from Dalton's mouth.

You wrapped your lips around his small nipple, your tongue twirled around it. You closed your eyes and enjoyed the feeling, too.

Dalton pressed his body against yours when you gave the same treatment to the other sensitive bud.

You licked, sucked and nibbled on his nipples just the way he liked it.

He melted in your arms, your warm breath tickled the skin of his chest. It was still crazy to you how such a strong man could barely resist the gentle touch of your lips.

Soon enough, you left his chest as drooly and messy as his cock. That did not stop you, you were fuelled by all of his little reactions.

Heavy breathing, high pitched moans, his hips jerking forward. You loved everything that he was giving you.

You could feel his bulge pressing against you and this was the only reason that convinced you to pull away. You wanted more of him, you wanted to feel him so bad. As if he could read your mind, Dalton cut you off.

"You think you can give me all this attention," Dalton took a deep breath. "And I won't do the same to your pretty tits?" He leaned forward, crashing his lips against yours with a hungry kiss while he took the opportunity to let his hands wander over your skin. He caressed his way from your neck and down on your arms until his rough hands landed on your hips. He squeezed your flesh for a moment before moving upwards to fondle your breasts, only then being reminded of the presence of your bra that he unhooked effortlessly.

"But Dalton," you whined, watching your bra land on the floor. "I need you." He groaned, encouraging you to keep using your words. "I need you to fuck me, please." He hooked a finger under your chin, making you look up at him. "Please."

"You know I can go for a third round." He scoffed, amused by the way you insinuated that this moment you shared would end so soon. Then, his voice dropped lower, his ocean blue eyes appeared darker. "I can go for as many rounds as I want." He rectified himself.

You moaned sinfully, watching him stroke his cock to full hardness again.

"Hold them, yeah, just like that." You pressed your tits together, he pushed his cock in the small gap between them. Spit fell from your lips and dripped down on your chest. "That's my good fucking girl." He used the spit as lube and started to fuck your tits.

Not once did his eyes lose sight of you, your face turned him on just as much as the feeling of your tits on his sensitive cock. "You're a little freak like me, huh?"

His gaze fell down to your chest, he grunted again at the sight of his precum glistening on your skin. You looked at each other with lustful eyes. Dalton smiled. "If only you knew."

[chosok-amo]

ALWAYS THE BRIDESMAID NEVER THE BRIDE

“ . . . I was there too, satoru, — those summers belonged to me as much as they belonged to you, he was mine as much as he was yours.”

the downfall of your relationship after suguru geto went spiral.

⠀ ⠀⠀You heard about what happened to one of your lovers, Geto Suguru — what he did to the villagers, how he killed them en masse. You don't believe what Yaga says, you don't believe what the higher-ups scream at you — saying that the current Geto Suguru is a criminal and a murderer. You covered your ears so tightly that you didn't hear anything — not even Satoru's cries every night in the silence of the night.

⠀ ⠀⠀You ran, kept running and running, carrying your feet to Suguru. You have to see him, you have to hear everything from him. He should say that everything was just a misunderstanding and he didn't do anything and looking at you with his purple eyes, he should tell you that everything was just a misunderstanding — you hope. You keep running no matter your heart starts to deflate and constrict, you can't stop running, too afraid that if you stop then everything will come true. You don't care about the heat of the sun piercing your skin.

⠀ ⠀⠀You arrive at a temple that is familiar to you. Seeing the building makes it even more impossible to breathe. You pushed open the large wooden door with force. Your steps stopped when you saw a black-haired man standing not far from you with a gojo-kesa covering his tall body. You'd recognize that back anywhere, you'd recognize his scent anywhere.

⠀ ⠀⠀ Geto Suguru.

⠀ ⠀⠀Suguru turned around and he smiled when his eyes caught your figure. He smiled warmly until his eyes formed a thin curve. He opened his arms wide, welcoming you with all his heart. You didn't have a second thought to run up to him and jump into his arms— so hard that his body stumbled back a little and like honey, he chuckled sweetly. “Easy there, princess,” he whispered into your hair, so very softly. One hand hugged your back while the other stroked your hair.

⠀ ⠀⠀Suguru closed his eyes and took a deep breath— trying to fill his lungs with your scent. Maybe this was the last time he could hold you this close, he knew. He buried his face in the crook of your neck, pressing his nose there. He feels short of breath, but he feels like he still has to breathe, keep taking in breaths until all he can think about is your scent, you. He forced his body to remember your smell, every inch of his body, so he wouldn't forget. Hopefully, if he doesn't have you by his side anymore, he can still feel your scent, he has to remember your scent. So that he is fine being away from you. So that he doesn't run towards you when he feels he can no longer smell your scent.

⠀ ⠀⠀Suguru pulled his face away from you as he listened to the sad sounds that came out of your sweet mouth. Your stomach and his stomach were still touching beneath the cloth you were wearing when he lifted your lowered face— too sad to look at him. Suguru looked at your face and he realized a few things. He could see the eye bags hanging ugly under your beautiful eyes, there were slight wrinkles on your forehead, and you looked very, very tired. And he couldn't deny your rosy cheeks were wet with tears that didn't seem to stop.

⠀ ⠀⠀“Oh, my love,” he whispered.

⠀ ⠀⠀He felt his heart break when he saw you pull your lips straight, letting out a sob that was forcing its way out, for him to hear. Suguru stroked your wet cheeks with his thumb. “You left, I — I was gone for one day and.. and you're not there, you— why?— how?” you stammered, still reluctant to look at the man in front of you. Suguru chuckled, he couldn't help it, you looked so cute right now. Hearing the chuckle of the man in front of you made you suddenly raise your head, looking at him. “That's not funny!” you said and hit Suguru's arm which made the man laugh again.

⠀ ⠀⠀“I'm sorry, my love, you just look so cute right now,” he said, smiling and hugging you again. You hugged his waist and pressed your cheek against his chest. “They called you a criminal and you are a mass murderer who killed a whole village,” you said which made Suguru smile bitterly and sigh softly. He kissed her head for a long time before saying, “I'm sorry, my love, I'm doing a bad thing,” he said quietly. Your tears broke even more as you began to be forced to accept that everything was true and Suguru was a criminal now. So you buried your face back into his neck, crying loudly.

⠀ ⠀⠀Suguru tightened his arms around your small body and pressed his cheek against your head. He lets you cry your heart out. That's all he usually does. “I'm so sorry,” Suguru whispered. It hurt him, hearing how sad your crying sounded. It made him break into pieces, knowing your heartbroken cries were now he is the cause. But again, he couldn't do anything. “Why?” You looked at him with your wet face and red eyes. Suguru cupped one of your cheeks while one of his hands still hugged your waist.

⠀ ⠀⠀“I'm sorry, my love, I just can't wear a heartfelt smile in this world, not anymore,” he said— shaking his head slowly and smiling faintly. “You don't have to, just talk to me, to Satoru, come back to us, I'll listen, we'll listen,” you say, almost pleading. “Stop this, and come back, let's run away and live together, I'll convince Satoru. Let's get out of this world, we can live at the beach house far away from here and make a family, and have cats, like you always wanted, hm?” You smiled, even though your eyes continued to shed tears. You took forceful steps to get closer as if there was some distance you still had to cover from your body which was already attached to Suguru.

⠀ ⠀⠀Suguru was silent.

⠀ ⠀⠀Oh, how he always dreamed of starting a family with you and Satoru, living in a house by the beach and having several cats. He wanted it so much that his heart screamed about it. Leaving the world of Jujutsu and living as a normal person in general.

⠀ ⠀⠀“Let's live like a normal person, without curses, nothing,” you said. Your soft voice called out to him, making him flutter and he could feel the warmth slowly embracing his long-cold body. “That sounds perfect,” he whispered and smiled—a genuine smile. He grabbed both of your hands, clenching them in his fists. He kissed your hand several times with his purple eyes continuing to stare at you. Full of tenderness, full of affection.

⠀ ⠀⠀He kissed your forehead warmly, “Let's do it.”

⠀ ⠀⠀“Geto-sama..”

⠀ ⠀⠀You hear a child's voice. Turning your head to where the voice came from, you saw two little girls—one with dark brown hair with a green hoodie and the other with light brown hair with a yellow hoodie, they had short hair in the same style. When you saw the two little children you realized something, they were the little children your lover saved— Mimiko and Nanako Hasaba. You turned your gaze to Suguru who was already looking at you with a small smile. “Are they..?” Suguru nodded.

⠀ ⠀⠀You let go of your arms around Suguru's neck and stepped over to the two little girls. They seemed hesitant when you stepped forward, as they looked at Suguru as if asking for reassurance, to which the black-haired nodded. You crouched in front of them, holding each of their cheeks which made them lean into your warm touch. Seeing this, your tears broke out again, you couldn't help it. Your head fell to your bent knees, your forehead pressed there with your hands holding the two little girls' cheeks. They looked at you with confusion and curiosity, not understanding why you were crying so bitterly.

⠀ ⠀⠀They looked at you and Suguru who was still standing behind you alternately. Hesitantly their small hands touched your shoulders before stepping closer and hugging you—both of their chins resting on your shoulders. You greeted them by wrapping your arms around their waist, pulling them closer. Suguru just smiled faintly, sadly. All he could hear were your sobs, cutting into his skin every second. You remained in your position for a few moments before the small arms holding you were replaced by Suguru's muscular arms.

⠀ ⠀⠀He put one arm around your back—helping you to stand. “Oh, my love. What a beautiful thing you are,” He said softly, and who knows how many times he cupped your cheeks and ran his two thumbs across your cheeks. Suguru always thought that you were very beautiful, the most beautiful girl he had ever seen, even when you were crying ugly like now. He loves how your cheeks look red when you cry too much. Too pure and innocent, making him want to continue protecting you.

⠀ ⠀⠀He likes to call you 'my love'. He says that you are his love, you are millions of feelings in one feeling. You are like a rainbow in the storm. He said that his love was given out for you and Satoru, love you both so full that there was no love left for him to the world. People say that a lifetime is very long, but Suguru can trade anything so he can get that lifetime. Even though he had to become a criminal and commit a mass murder. And he would gladly do it many times, if, in the end, he could spend all his breath with you and Satoru.

⠀ ⠀⠀Suguru pressed his lips to yours— kissing them gently, typical of Geto Suguru. He is full of tenderness. He kissed you, gently but you could feel his misery, how several times he had to pause between kisses just to swallow his sobs. He pressed his forehead against yours after pulling his lips away, but you could still feel his soft breath on your face.

⠀ ⠀⠀“Let's do that, you, me, Satoru and the kids. Let's run away where no-one knows our name yet, where we can camp out in the open and see the stars, where we can tell each other hopes and dreams without feeling scared, it will be hopeless. We'll own nothing more than we need,” he said quietly as you watched Suguru's tears fall down one cheek. You nodded, “Let's run away together.”

⠀ ⠀⠀Suguru smiled faintly.

⠀ ⠀⠀“Would you do me a favor before that?”

⠀ ⠀⠀“What is it?”

⠀ ⠀⠀Suguru moved his forehead away from yours to look at you more clearly. One arm wrapped around your waist as he tucked your hair behind your left ear. “Can you wait for me, my love?” he asked. You were silent for a moment and lost in his purple eyes— you found nothing but calm and confidence. So you nodded, making Suguru's thin smile widen slightly. “Stay with Satoru while I make a better world for us, so I can give you the world that I know you deserve, would you do that for me, my love?”

⠀ ⠀⠀“Wait for me?”

⠀ ⠀⠀ “Okay,” you whispered. “I'll wait for you.”

2017

⠀ ⠀⠀I can't save you.

⠀ ⠀⠀That's what was on your mind when you saw Satoru come to your room—falling onto the bed as if he hadn't ignored you in the past few years since Suguru left. You saw how he buried his face in your pillow. His long legs dangled over the edge of the mattress which was not big enough to accommodate his tall body. You just stay silent—sitting on the floor with your knees bent upwards and your back against the wall. You looked at Satoru in silence.

⠀ ⠀⠀Since Suguru left everything has changed— everything, because Satoru is everything to you. Himself and Suguru. Half of everything is in front of you, but you still feel empty, empty. You are just a shell that happens to still be breathing but empty of the will to live.

⠀ ⠀⠀Was I supposed to tell you to leave, Satoru?

⠀ ⠀⠀“I was there too, Satoru— those summers belonged to me as much as they belonged to you, he was mine just as much as he was yours,” you think.

⠀ ⠀⠀or not?

⠀ ⠀⠀You wanted to scream at Satoru, tell him forcefully if you had to, but you couldn't. For the last 10 years, you seem to realize that you are just the third person joining in. Forcing yourself into a position that was never your place in the first place. Between him and Suguru. You're not delusional, you're well aware that between the three of you, Satoru will always love Suguru more than he loves you. You know that very well. You loved both of them equally, equally, very much— however, when Suguru left, Satoru left with him.

⠀ ⠀⠀Just like you, Satoru is just a shell who is too tired and sad to even die. You may not understand what he feels, but you try. Trying to feel what another part of your soul feels like only to lose it, but Satoru, I would never do that to you' you thought. Satoru lost half his soul, but you lost all of it.

⠀ ⠀⠀You are just a number to Satoru, far from number one. However, you still feel like it was your fault for not saying something sooner, and now it's too late. The relationship between you, Suguru and Satoru ended with Suguru leaving. And you can't do anything about it. You didn't want to throw Satoru out—not when he was crying so hard he was almost throwing up. Satoru was barely breathing—choking on his own sobs.

⠀ ⠀⠀You got up from the floor and sat on the edge of the bed, placing your hand on his shoulder. You waited for Satoru's outburst that never came. You remembered how Satoru was when Suguru first left—he was so angry. So angry that Yaga had to ask you to stay away and said that maybe there would be a time when you would have to kill Satoru because you were the only one he could come home to. You told Yaga that you couldn't do that— even if Satoru lost his mind,because you weren't Suguru.

⠀ ⠀⠀Your infinity is always up with me.

⠀ ⠀⠀Satoru suddenly became very sad— so sad that you worried he would do something stupid. He continues to live in Suguru's shadow, showing fake smiles and trying anything to distract him. Slowly he started to see you more often. You were happy— thinking that he had come back to his senses and was starting to see you as his girlfriend, without Suguru. But since Suguru left, you should learn not to have too high expectations of that blue-eyed man.

⠀ ⠀⠀Satoru suddenly stopped sobbing. You inhaled sharply— sensing something was wrong. Satoru got up from his seat and turned his body towards you. You saw how his blue eyes were rimmed with red and tears rolled down his pale cheeks. “I—I saw him last night,” Satoru stammered. His lips pulled into a straight line trying to swallow the deft lump that was holding back his sobs. You hold your breath for a moment. Of course, you should know, that nothing can destroy Satoru other than Suguru. You didn't move, unable to bring yourself to say anything.

⠀ ⠀⠀“The ring—”

⠀ ⠀⠀The rings. The rings Satoru bought a long time ago, one for you, one for Suguru, one for himself. The ring that was supposed to bind the three of you together, but like Satoru only wrapped the red thread around Suguru's finger, leaving you at the end of the thread alone as they got tangled up in each other. The ring he brought with the plan that he would marry Suguru and you when the three of you graduated.

⠀ ⠀⠀“He had it on when I killed him,” Satoru said, choking on the wind at the end.

⠀ ⠀⠀“You and her, the sweetest feeling I know, a peace and a flame, steady me and stir me all at once, and when I die, everything will die but these feelings.”

⠀ ⠀⠀That's what Suguru said to Satoru just before he killed him. Your mouth is shut, you can't say anything. Suguru dies and Satoru still doesn't see you. He goes blind and you're nowhere to see, and again, you can't do anything about it. You continued to stare at Satoru who was sobbing again. He looked at you with a red face and trembling lips. And something you've been so afraid of for years happens in a split second.

⠀ ⠀⠀The light in his eyes goes out.

⠀ ⠀⠀A split second and you feel so scared. So you pulled Satoru into your arms and he weakly leaned against your body. Part of you wanted to laugh about the tragedy you felt. What a joke your life is. Satoru's chin rested against your chest and his eyes continued to stare at you. You looked down at him with a sad smile. One of your arms was around his shoulder and one of your hands cupped his cheek. Your thumb ran to wipe Satoru's tears.

⠀ ⠀⠀“I don't think I can love and have enough love for someone now,” he whispered.

⠀ ⠀⠀“I know,” you thought.

⠀ ⠀⠀Still with a sad smile, you answered, “That's okay, I'll love you enough for both of us and I have a big heart. Did you know what it means? I'll have enough love for us, I have so much love for you in my heart.”

⠀ ⠀⠀Oh, how you love the man in your arms so much right now.

⠀ ⠀⠀“But I know better, when he left, you left with him, and when he died, you died with him,” you continued to yourself.

⠀ ⠀⠀You tighten your arms around Satoru's weak body, squeezing him gently. Pretending the warmth in you holds a candle to the warmth Suguru gave him. Pretending you hold a candle to him. You, the embodiment of always the bridesmaid, but never the bride.

2018⠀ ⠀⠀

⠀ ⠀⠀it's just you now.

⠀ ⠀⠀‘ . . . You finally join your other half, your one and only, your soul—'

⠀ ⠀⠀You wrestle with your thoughts with eyes that can't leave the carvings on the tombstones. Gojo Satoru, it says. In a land full of bodies buried several meters below, in a place full of death, you feel strangely safe and calm. There is no one around you, everyone is busy mourning the loss of their loved ones, just like you.

⠀ ⠀⠀“I know you're happier now than you ever were here— I know you're happier in the lifetime with him than you were alive with me,” you continued, finally daring to voice what you had been thinking for years. Finally found the courage to speak out after years of silence.

⠀ ⠀⠀Your knees are planted perfectly on the ground which will eliminate the marks there. “I'm expected to go on, like all my friends aren't dead now—” You bit your bottom lip. You felt sore in your throat from holding back your tears. You refuse to cry. “I guess this is what it was like for you, right? Having all this responsibility on your shoulder simply for being alive in the first place?”

⠀ ⠀⠀You looked down feeling a headache in your head—as if someone had just hit your skull with an iron baseball bat. It hurts so much, but even so, the pain in your heart is greater. You blinked a few times as your vision began to fade. Drop by drop tears fell from your eyes, wetting the grassy ground.

⠀ ⠀⠀“It's just me now,” you chuckled bitterly.

⠀ ⠀⠀Suddenly you feel the irony of your loneliness. You were always alone, even when Satoru was alive, what's different about now? Maybe you just deny your loneliness with your delusions. It took Satoru's death for you to realize that the second Suguru left, that moment you had no one but Satoru's shadow. Convince yourself that it is enough for you to survive.

⠀ ⠀⠀“My love for you is never big enough for you to stay, never enough to love both of us. I'll take ten more years to love you if you stay—” You choked, unable to continue your words that felt like they were stuck in your neck. “I can't heal your kid, Megumi, so he will die once Sukuna's out of him and Itadori— he's just like you, so he won't last long after Fushiguro's death, and still, it's just gonna be me, alone. ”

⠀ ⠀⠀Your body is shaking, scared, sad, pathetic.

⠀ ⠀⠀Once you long for love from Satoru when in reality you know that his love for Suguru has run out. Again and again, you just follow along. And maybe it will take you 10 years to forget everything, maybe your whole life.

⠀ ⠀⠀At the same time, you felt someone put their arm around your back. You turned to your left only to find Itadori Yuji— looking at you with the same gaze you had. A look that showed that he was on the verge of losing part of his soul. “Let's get you home,” he whispered. So with that, he slipped one arm under your knees and a second later you were no longer on the ground. Yuji turned to leave Satoru's final resting place. You looked back over Yuji's shoulder, staring at the stone with one of your loves' names engraved on it.

⠀ ⠀⠀“I hope you're happy, Satoru, my love, I really do.”

⠀ ⠀⠀

⠀ ⠀⠀

⠀ ⠀⠀part 2 | alternative ending

⠀ ⠀⠀

⠀ ⠀⠀

⠀ ⠀⠀

[ataraxixia]

hiii can you write abt ratio and sunday w a reader who gets overstimmulated at parties or just hanging out with friends and they get really mean when overstimmulated <3 like how would they help their partner out yk

  ❦  𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. how they help you out when you're overstimulated ❧ tags. Ratio x reader, sunday x reader, fluff, comfort, sfw ❧. a/n. of course, and thank you for your request, love <3 btw i'm not familiar with what it's like to help an overstimulated person so I did some research before writing- I apologize if I wrote something wrong

𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐀𝐒 𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎

"By the Aeons, do you people ever shut up?" you spat to a group of young students, meaner than you intended to, but you couldn't really help it at the moment. The hall was full to the brim- packed with endless members of the Intelligentsia Guild. There were just too many- bragging loudly about their scores of their last exams or simply discussing different subjects with no end. Without saying anything to the students, you quickly walked to one of the corners, covering your ears to shut out the noise. You had difficulties focusing, and the discomfort was creeping up your whole body. You tried to calm down, taking deep breaths and imagining being back home in your cozy and quiet living room. Yet, the constant talking, laughing and arguing made it entirely impossible.

You slumped down the wall, sitting down and resting your head between your legs. You groaned as you shut your eyes, not noticing the person standing beside you.

"―? What are you doing?" they asked. "Why do you care?"

"Because I'm your boyfriend, obviously."

You let out a noise of confusion before you lifted your head and looked to the side, seeing your boyfriend, Veritas, leaning on the wall and focused on you. He crouched down beside you and placed his hand on your forehead, a frown appearing on his face. Your face was pale yet your forehead was quite hot.

"Why didn't you say anything earlier? I would've brought you home." he said, removing his hand. Your gaze shifted to the side, your fingers twitching a little. "I didn't find you. There were a lot of people." it was the truth. From the moment your senses became a bit heated, you looked around, walking from venue to venue to find Ratio, yet it seemed like he just disappeared into thin air.

"I was looking for you as well. Figured out you didn't like it here." Ratio held you by the arms and helped you stand up straight, steadying your body with his from falling down. "Let's go home now." You thanked the Aeons as you nodded, and the two of you made your way to the exit.

"Ah, Dr. Ratio!" one of the members shouted. "I wanted to tell you about the integrals of inverse tri-"

"Your integrals of inverse trigonometric functions exam, in which you barely passed with 71%? I'd rather not. Now excuse me, we're making our leave."

Well that shut him up quickly, you thought.

-

"..." Veritas stayed silent when you were back home. The two of you sat on your shared couch and he massaged your back gently, never pressing anywhere too hard to help you relax. he also made something to drink and some snacks for you, but you simply stayed still as you relished in the massage. It always seemed to calm you down.

"Thanks, I feel better now."

𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐀𝐘

"I'm fine, I already told you!"

The other members of The Family looked at you with wide eyes as you snapped at Sunday. He noticed you behaving rather different today and wanted to make sure you were okay, but after asking if you were feeling well- that was your last straw.

You quickly made your way, left through one of the many halls in Dewlight Pavilion and shut the door behind you vehemently. When you weren't hearing any chatter anymore, you relaxed a tiny bit, yet you couldn't stop fidgeting with your fingers, the voices of The Family lingering in your mind, still.

Being the lover of the head of the oak family was no easy matter by itself. Doubt amongst The Family members and the locals of Penacony occurred overnight and the feeling it left you with wasn't pleasant- not at all. Now, a gathering with all members of The Family, where the majority didn't like you and talked behind your back, was too much. You lost your focus at the very beginning already and the meltdown just now was what you needed to actually leave.

You sat down on one of the many couches that were scattered across the Pavilion and took a deep breath, focusing on you, and you only, your head hanging low. You had noticed the Origami Birds on the railings and thanked them in your mind for not chirping- or making any noise at all, actually.

"I apologize, I didn't mean to make you feel angry."

You recognized your lover's voice and sighed, shaking your head softly as you mumbled, "don't. I was just..."

Sunday sat beside you and draped a blanket over your shoulders. A weighted one, you noticed. He took your hand in his softly as he traced some circles on the back of your hand, the gesture making you actually quite calmer.

You focused on his hands and let relief wash over you with time- it must have been at least 10 minutes since he arrived and yet, he didn't stop, nor did he say anything in the time. You smiled to yourself as you felt your mind becoming clearer, shifting your gaze from your hand to his face.

"Thanks, I... really needed that." you said and he shared your glance, a small smile plastered on his lips again. "Just tell me if you need more time to relax. I'll give you all the time you need."

[suugarbabe]

Saving Grace V

[Chapter 5]

Pairing: Mattheo Riddle x Reader

Word count: ~1.2k

Warning: SMUT, smutty smut you've been waiting for, MDNI!!! 18+ CONTENT

I’m falling for you, Mattheo. The words were like a green light for him because instantly his mouth was attached to yours again, teeth tugging at your bottom lip before tracing his lips along your jaw, down your neck, nipping and licking the skin, surely to leave a mark.

“You sure, y/n? You’re falling for me?” His eyes met yours again and you nodded, “Never been more sure of anything in m’life.” 

You pulled him back down to you, kissing him desperately. He kissed you back like a man starved of his favorite meal, tongue exploring your mouth as his hands explored your body, one holding his weight at the side of your head as the other grabbed the flesh of your thigh, hooking your leg around his waist. You tangled your fingers in his curls in an attempt to pull him impossibly closer as you felt him tighten in his pants on your lower stomach. You lift your hips in an attempt to grind yourself against the tent in his pants, earning a low growl as his lips trail over your collarbone. 

Mattheo bucks his hips, trying to get more friction. A whine leaves your throat as your feel the the thickness of his trousers brush over your core, the thin material of your panties leaving little to the imagination. “Teo, please,” your moans are breathy, barely audible but Mattheo hears then. “Please what, Princess, tell me what you need,” his lips ghosting over your skin as he unbuttons your blouse, lower and lower. 

“I need you, Teo. Please, I’ve been craving you for weeks,” you looked up at him with doe eyes. Mattheo looked over you, your lips red and swollen from his rough kisses, pupils blown with lust and want, he wasn’t sure how he got so lucky to have you like this, for you to be all his.

Mattheo leaned back on his hunches, pulling his shirt off to reveal his strong chest. Your hands reached up on instinct, nails dragging down his pecs, over his strong abs. His eyes close, taking in the feeling of your hands on his skin, how he’s wanted this for the last several weeks. His hands glide up your stomach, coming to massage your breasts over the black lace you chose that morning. His lips kiss your skin, trailing down from your chest, lower and lower. 

His hands move from your chest to under your skirt, roughly grabbing your thighs pulling them apart. His hooks his fingers in the waistband of your panties, looking up at you from between your thighs, silently asking permission. You should be embarrassed by how quickly you nodded but at this moment you don’t care how desperate you look. 

He eyes your wet pussy with a wicked grin. He drags a finger through your arousal, groaning as he did so, “All this for me, Princess?” He sticks out his tongue, wrapping his lips around his fingers and sucking them slowly. You moan at the sight, head falling back to the pillow. Mattheo delivers a sharp slap to the outside of your thigh, “Eyes on me, Princess. You look away and I stop.” 

You force your eyes back on him as he licks a long stripe up your center. He licks and sucks on your clit, jolts of pleasure shoot through you. He wraps his hands around your thighs, holding your hips down as his tongue slips inside. Moans tumbled from your mouth as his tongue worked on your most sensitive area. 

Your grip on his curls tighten and he lets you buck your hips, riding his tongue until you reach your peak, whimpers falling from your lips. Mattheo sits up, smiling as his lips are covered in your arousal, “Such dirty sounds coming from such an innocent girl.” You sit up, grabbing his neck and pulling him in for a searing kiss. You taste yourself on his tongue which only makes you moan into his mouth. 

Your hands trail down his chest, toying with the button on his trousers, “Who said I was innocent.” You slide your hand over his bulge, rubbing with soft pressure. A moan leaves Mattheo’s lips and you don’t think you’ve heard anything so sweet. He helps you take his trousers off, his hard cock slapping against his stomach. 

You anticipated him to be big, his confidence alone told you that, but seeing it in person had your breath caught in your throat. He lays back as you take him in your hand, using his precum to help your hand glide up and down. His tip was swollen and red, you swipe your thumb over the slit and a hiss leaves his lips. You lean down, eagerly licking his shaft from base to tip, swirling your tongue around his tip before taking as much as your can into your mouth. 

“Fuck, y/n. I thought you were innocent but look how well you’re sucking my cock,” he laces his fingers through your hair, holding tight. You moan at the way he spoke to you, the vibrations in your throat making his cock twitch. You repeated the motion, using your hand for what couldn’t fit in your mouth. 

“M’close, princess,” He warned. You continued to bob your head. You look up at him through your lashes, and that’s all it takes for Mattheo to spill himself in the back of your throat. You suck in your cheeks, running your tongue along his shaft, licking the tip before swallowing everything he gave you. 

You crawl up his body, kissing your way up as you do so until you reach his face, kissing up his jaw before connecting your lips to his. His hands find your waist, pulling your body flush to his. When you finally pull away you can’t help the smile that’s spread over your face. 

“I should’ve admitted my feelings for you earlier if I knew that’s how you were going to react,” you pushed a curl back that had fallen in front of his face. Mattheo was smiling so hard his dimples were showing, “Princess you could’ve gotten this treatment week one if I had known you felt the same.” 

You laid on your side as Mattheo got up, grabbing one of his t-shirts and your underwear for you to put on as he pulled on his boxer shorts. He crawled back into bed, pulling you into his chest. You wrapped an arm around his waist, resting your face in the crook of his neck. He pressed a simple kiss to your forehead, “I’m glad you asked me for help that day, y/n.” You looked up at him, not a doubt in your mind as you spoke, “Me too, Teo.” 

There was a knock at the door, making you jump. Mattheo chucked at your reaction, rubbing soothing circles on your back, “Don’t jump now, princess, you’re decent.” He called for the visitor to come in. Theo and Draco walked in, large smirks on their faces. You hid your face in Mattheo’s chest, waiting for the teasing to happen. 

“Can we help you two?” Mattheo’s tone was playful but annoyed. Theo held up his hands, “No, no, just waiting for the festivities to be done before coming in.” You couldn’t see it, but Mattheo flipped Theo the bird. “You guys can rightfully fuck off. I’m allowed to have alone time with my girlfriend.” You lifted your head at this, realizing it was the first time this sentence held true.

Taglist:

@v1olentdelights ; @cherry-hoe ; @itsamusical4lifee ; @chaosartic ; @b3ean ; @l4venderia ; @mypolicemanharryyy ; @ma-las ; @usmell4 ; @carav4l ; @thereeallink ; @jinxxangel13 ; @stvrligghtt ; @taylors--version ; @kezibear ; @classicfandomavenue ; @moonlightreader649 ; @badasseddy ; @icecube1912 ; @julerry ; @little-miss-niall ; @kaitlyn2907 ; @laurajmcmanus ; @onlyangel-444 ; @unstablereader ; @aunicornmademedoit ; @im-unwellbabe ; @annaisabookworm ;

[honestsycrets]

hi !! i love your writings so much, especially the Miguel ones (SPECIFICALLY THE ONE WHERE HE IS A DAD AHA-)

May I request a Miguel O'Hara fic/ blurb/ ( anything, really :D ) where he does the skin to skin contact with his newborn baby girl? thank you so much !! <33

❛ pairing | miguel o'hara x wifey!reader

❛ tags | fluff, family fic, post-birth scene, papa!miguel, Spanish is not translated.

❛ sy's notes | the amount of baby fics in my inbox—

Miguel never wanted to cause you pain. Less so, be responsible for it. The pain was a sacrifice that you were willing to make-- because you loved him. Pleading for a child, his little Mireya was all his idea. In your mind, it was only right that if you carried her for nine months, he would be the first to hold her. 

For all the nights of stroking your stomach and waiting in longing, he finally had what he wanted-- he finally had his little daughter. Her tiny little body was eclipsed by his massive muscle. She was impossibly small. He felt like a peasant or a beast, her small body enveloped in his bare arms. 

“Mi amor,” your exhausted voice was recognizable, but it didn’t register. Nothing did. He peeled away the paper-thin blanket from her plump lip for his first look at his little girl. His body felt impossibly warm, emotions bubbling in warm mirth and deep pride. “Can I... see her?” 

He doesn’t want to ignore you, but the little girl in his arms commands any ability he would have had to be a useful husband. He truly tried to be over the past nineteen hours of labor. Now, he’s busy being a father. 

“Miguel? Mireya should do skin-to-skin now,” the spider woman aiding your labor called. You willed her down with your hand and shook your sweat-slicked head at her. It was better to change the soiled sheets than to deal with Miguel. She nodded. 

“He needs a minute.”  For nine months, Mireya felt more like an idea than an attainable reality. Miguel did everything to make sure she was safe. Now here she was, her puffy lips petal pink. He knew her eyes would be the warmest shade of brown he’s ever seen, even with them firmly held shut. There was no doubt in his mind that she would be gorgeous. Miguel nestled her with practice in one arm, ghosting his index finger over her tiny button of a nose. After a few moments, he swayed toward the bed where you lay, body swollen and achy. You grimaced as you moved, your core red-hot. The spider woman made herself scarce, a lopsided smile on her lips.

Your fingers fluttered over the clean sheets to invite him over. Miguel complied with your wishes. He settled on the plush bed, shifting Mireya out of her warm blanket and onto his naked chest. Her small chest was against his, throwing his hand underneath your neck to urge you closer. Mireya’s soft cheek plastered against Miguel’s chest, their breaths heaving in near unison. Her peaceful rest seemed to relax something in Miguel as well, stroking her back as she slept, so impossibly small.

It was easy to be jealous of the way he looked at her— in full admiration, rapture, and pure love that you simply could not measure up to. You glanced at your little daughter, a smile pulling at your lips. For your part, you were unable to understand that this little girl, whose chest moved in time with Miguel’s, was yours too. It would come, in time, but for now, you were enamored with the delight that strikes Miguel's normally trained face.

“Mireya,” you murmured, slipping your finger against her tiny palm. Fully asleep, her tiny digits dangled over your index finger. “Your papa wants to see your eyes.” 

“Déjela,” Miguel murmured. “She’s tired.” 

“Already protecting her,” you shifted your finger away from Mireya’s hand, tracking the stubble that peppered Miguel’s jawline. “Where does that leave me?” 

Miguel clicked his teeth as your hand flicked off his chin. 

“Don’t be jealous already.” 

“Mmm,” you settled your head down, heavy eyes shifting shut. “I have to be. You’re a hard man to keep Miguelito.”

"Tch," as if giving him a child wouldn’t keep him busy. Miguel’s eyes tracked his small daughter’s soft breaths to your head that rested on his shoulder. His familia was complete, fully and wonderfully complete. As long as he didn’t get another case of baby fever, it would hopefully say that way. For now, it was just right.

“Gracias, Mami.” 

“Hm? For what?” 

“Por mi hija-- for Mireya.” 

[b00kdiary]

Okay, you write the most delicious smut, so I think the plus-size reader is watching Cassian and Azriel spar and gets lost in her imagination about what they could do to her. And the duo finds out (maybe from Rhys), and one night at dinner, they offer to make her dreams reality. If you already have something like this in mind, please feel free to ignore it. I just think Az and Cassian would be down bad for a plus-size reader 🙂

Take it | Azriel & Cassian (I)

Azriel x Cassian x Plus Size Reader

Rhysand's playing Cupid and his meddling has you experiencing something you never would have thought possible.

Warnings: Mature content (18+) mild violence, mature language, illusions to smut (smut in part 2)

PART II

MASTERLIST - 1 and 2

I knew I should have skipped training today.

From the moment Mor told me that she wasn't attending, that Feyre wouldn't be coming either and that I was alone with Rhysand, Cassian and Azriel- I knew I should have skipped.

Because now I was here, the scorching sun beaming down over my sweating skin, the barren wind a bare caress through my damp pleated hair- and my eyes unwavering upon the two Illyrian males before me.

Sparring.

"C'mon Azriel," Cassian taunted, hazel eyes gleaming with mischief as he danced around the Shadowsinger, his arrogant demeanour so at odds with Azriel's still, quiet form. "Don't tell me you're already tapping out."

Azriel smirked, the smallest tilt of his lips and I felt a shiver trace down the curve of my spine, watching as his powerful thighs rippled with every step he took, scarred hands angled out before him- waiting.

"And miss all the fun?" He mused softly, head cocking, a purely predatory move and the laugh that escaped Cassian was rough as if the banter between them made this all the more exciting.

It didn't usually affect me like this, I didn't usually feel such a strong, visceral response to the two of them. Yes, they were both unbelievably gorgeous and yes, I enjoyed watching them as much as any female did.

But it never affected me as much as it did right now, as strongly as it did from the moment I stepped onto the rooftop and greeted them. It had been hard to deny how my body felt then and it was even worse now.

Especially with them like this- shirtless, sweating, muscles rippling, powerful wings splaying wide, and taunts being thrown between them that made my thighs clench.

I pressed my back into the jagged wall behind me, anchoring myself down with the bite of the concrete against my skin, cutting in through the thin material of my legging and top. The shield I'd erected around me rippled, my emotions overwhelming my control over my magic.

Cassian grunted- raw and grumbling as he swung a fist out aimed for Azriel's rib but was swiftly blocked by a scarred hand shielding close to his tanned skin. Azriel gritted his teeth, his free hand slamming forward, palm connecting brutally with Cassian's shoulder, sending him stumbling back a few steps.

Cassian grinned, feral.

Azriel's eyes narrowed, tongue flicking out to moisten his lips.

And the wetness between my thighs grew and grew, the throbbing ache now incessant, so strong that no matter how hard I clenched my thighs shut it did nothing to quell the need. I swallowed against the dryness in my throat, my body thrumming the longer I watched them.

A deep grunt, a rough, taunting laugh, bodies colliding, wings erected high, sweat and blood over perfect tan skin, trailing down corded muscle and carved abs. Movement so fast that I forced myself not to blink in case I missed something, fighting so intense it was impossible to look away.

And a heat coursing through my body so forcefully I felt like I was going to explode.

'What do we have here?' A voice crooned through my mind, a voice like starlight and I jolted at the intrusion, 'The shield can hide the smell of your arousal, Y/N, but it can't hide the lust in your eyes.'

"Rhys," Cassian grinned, canines bearing to show the blood coating his teeth, and Azriel laughed softly as the male wiggled his brows, eyes upon our High Lord as he stalked in. "Care to join the fun?"

Rhysand smirked, a lazy sight, ringed hands tucked into the pockets of his slacks and my body grew hot, mortification filling me as his long legs brought him closer to where I stood. His violet eyes flash to me- knowingly.

"I think Y/N might be more interested in joining actually," Rhysand mused, his tone dripping with amusement and teasing, and I felt my eyes narrow irately as I glared up at him. "I'm sure she could take it."

My hands clenched as Rhysand's smirk grew, pearly teeth peeking through, seeing how my throat bobbed when Cassian and Azriel both glanced at me expectantly, panting.

"Alright angel," Cassian winked, and I managed a strained smile, feeling my cheeks growing unbearable hot- and Rhysand laughing through my mind. "You're sparring next."

'If only he knew that this wasn't the kind of sparring you were interested in,' Rhys taunted through my mind and I felt his claws racking down my mental shields, so strong I clenched my jaw to stop myself from snarling at him.

'Fuck off, Rhys' I sent a shock of my power through my mind and Rhysand's spine straightened beside me, though that smirk never once left his lips. 'I don't know what you're even talking about.'

'No?' He muses and I roll my eyes as his shoulder brushes mine, my body so stiff as I grab hold of my water bottle, my fingers shaking and weak as I uncap the lid. 'So, you're not having some very naughty thoughts about my General and Spymaster right now?'

'No,' I gritted out mentally, hating how I was falling for the bait, hating that he could see just how caught off guard I was. My eyes flutter as Azriel grumbles, shadows coiling around his lean waist and broad shoulders as he and Cassian circle each other. 'No, I'm not.'

Another rumbling laugh through my mind, a brush of Rhysand's shoulder against me, and the water bottle shakes in my hand as I bring it to my mouth, needing to distract myself desperately.

The mouth of the bottle touches my lip, the lukewarm water just barely tracing my tongue- and then my mind shifts.

And the images leak in.

Scarred hands cupping my breasts, toying with my hard nipples.

Canines scrapping my pulse point, my fingers curled around silken locks of dark hair.

I hear myself moaning as a head slips between my soft thighs, my eyes clenching shut as I rock my hips against the skilled tongue, back arching when another mouth finds purchase around my taut nipple.

I'm trapped between those two magnificent, corded bodies, massive wings shielding our nakedness- but I feel every touch, every kiss, every whispered praise as they worship me.

"Y/N!"

Another blink and the images are gone from my mind, replaced by the world around me again. And three pairs of eyes on me- all of them wide, unblinking, worried as they watch me.

"What happened, sweetheart?" Azriel breathes, chest rising and falling fast as he sucks in air, and I trace over the dark whorls covering his skin as I blink away the thoughts. "Are you okay?"

"I'm uh- I'm fine," I clear my throat, skin burning with heat and that embarrassment only grows when I spot my water bottle dropped at my feet, water already drying up on the concrete. Rhysand snickers as I swiftly reach down and grab it and my hands tremble as I hold it to my chest.

'You should tell them what you want, Y/N,' Rhys mutters through my mind and when I glance sideways at him, he merely smiles, bland and natural, as if he wasn't currently wading through my thoughts. 'They'd be more than happy to make it happen.'

"I think I'm done for today, boys," I manage a small smile, as I turn to grab my training bag at my side, glad for the reprieve from their eyes, even if I felt them wholly on my back. "Too fucking hot out."

'Y/N,' Rhysand called through my mind again, and the teasing was gone- replaced by something sincere.

'They won't be interested,' I hiss back, a lump lodging in my throat as I turn toward the males behind me, still standing watching me. ' I'm not going to embarrass myself by saying something.'

"I thought you wanted to spar?" Cassian raises a dark brow at me, hazel eyes watching carefully as I walk past Rhysand, not sparing him a second glance. "I'll go easy on you if you're scared, angel."

"Didn't she kick your ass last time, Cass?" Rhysand snorted, and I watched Azriel's lips tilt into a full-blow smile, a breathtaking sight as Cassian rolled his eyes, grinning as he flipped off the male behind me.

'You're lying to yourself if you think they're not interested in you,' His voice made me grit my teeth, my back steeling as I inched toward the door. ' Why don't you just find out?'

"Don't rough each other up too bad," I chuckle, ignoring the ache in my chest as I glance between the three of them, ignoring Rhysand's claws in my mind, "Seeing your pretty faces is the best part of my day."

Cassian grins, winking fiendishly at me.

Azriel smiles, red tinting his cheeks.

And Rhysand just cocks his head- almost as if to say see, I told you so.

I turn on my heel, my smile fading as soon as my back is to them and I'm walking toward that exit.

'Drop it, Rhys,' I warn, letting him feel how utterly serious I was, 'I mean it.'

***

'You're lying to yourself if you think they're not interested in you.'

Rhysand didn't know how wrong he was.

It was kind of him, sweet even, to say that two males as beautiful and perfect as Azriel and Cassian would have any interest in me, any sexual desire- even if it couldn't be further from the truth.

Not when I didn't hold a candle to Mor, who they both wholly desired, whose face and body and beauty were incomparable, something that I couldn't have, have never had, not in a million years.

And not when in all the years I've known them, neither of them have ever looked at me the way they look at her- with true lust. No desire, no primitive focus, no carnal need, I was their little sister, the female they loved but could never love like that.

I swallow down that bitter dose of reality as I make my way through the silent corridors of the House of Wind, my heels clinking against the smooth floor, as I get closer to the dining room. There's no sound in the house, unusual for this time of day.

I run my hands down the soft silk dress I wore, the dark green material clinging to my waist before cascading down my thighs, stopping mid-calf. It was more effort than I usually bothered with for dinner with the court, but Rhysand had insisted.

'A special dinner' he had said in his note 'Never hurts to dress up and celebrate our family.'

But as I turn the corridor, pushing past the ajar dining room door- it doesn't seem like much of a celebration.

"Y/N," Cassian greets, smiling over his broad shoulder at me, the material of his black shirt melding perfectly to every hard inch of him. I take a few tentative steps into the room and his eyes grace down my figure, over the dress I wore.

"Hey Cass," I mutter, brow furrowing as I take in the two glasses of red wine, a third sat empty and clean beside them and only three chairs surrounded the oak table Cassian stood before. "Where is everyone?"

My body shivers when something dances around my right ankle, the touch unbearably soft and I giggle when I glance down, noticing the shadow that wreathed around my calf, inching higher up my dress.

"Feyre's cycle started so Rhys is looking after her," Cassian said, wincing in a way that told me he was thankful not to be a female enduring that kind of pain. An amused snort came from behind me, and I didn't need to turn to know that it was Azriel, could feel his quiet scrutiny and recognise it anywhere. "And Mor and Amren had some Hewn City crap to deal with."

"So much for dressing up and celebrating the family," I mumble taking a few steps forward, and when Azriel places his large hand on the small of my back, I feel the touch through every inch of my body. I swallow, glancing over my shoulder at him, meeting those bright hazel eyes.

"It's just us three tonight," Azriel muses lowly, and my dress feels like a non-existent barrier between his hand and my back, his scarred thumb brushing soft circles there. "Is that alright Y/N?"

"Y-yes," I mentally curse myself for the stutter, my cheeks blazing when Azriel's lip tilts into a bare smirk, his eyes glancing to Cassian and gleaming with something dark. I clear my throat, managing a strained smile, "Me and my two favourite Illyrian males, should be fun."

"We won't tell Rhysand you said that" Cassian winks and I grin as Azriel leads me forward, his hand still on my back, burning and igniting my skin, guiding me to the chair- he pulls it out for me, his touch gentle as he helps me take a seat and tucks me in.

"He's my favourite High Lord though, so it's fine," I tease, waving a dismissive hand and I try to force myself to be calm and at ease as Azriel and Cassian take the two seats in front of me, their powerful bodies so foreboding as they settle into the chairs.

"Feyre's my favourite High Lady, Mor's my favourite blonde," I prattle on, ignoring their intense stares as I fiddle with my hands in my laps, trying to babble through my unease. "And Amren's my favourite short, angry person."

"We definitely won't tell Amren you said that" Cassian snickers and I release a tight breath of relief when Azriel begins to pour me a glass of wine, his eyes locking with mine as he hands it to me- my hand brushes his and I swear something flashes through his eyes at the contact.

"Thank you," I whisper, and I don't waste a second before bringing the glass to my lips, my eyes fluttering shut as I tip my head back, the bittersweet liquid sliding down my throat, and I keep drinking until it's all gone.

I feel the tingle the alcohol induces instantly, fae wine so much stronger than the regular stuff and it's exactly the kind of buzz I needed right now, the kind that distracted me from the way my body felt when in the same room as these two males.

I bring the glass back down to the table with a clink and only then do I realise the tense silence in the room. I blink away the haze, and when my eyes meet Cass and Az again, I'm surprised by the look on their faces.

Their eyes are dark, wholly dark- and zeroed in on my lips, watching every breath and move with predatory focus.

"Is-is there something on my face?" I raise a brow, chuckling uncomfortably and when I lift a hand insecurely to my mouth, Cassian releases a tight exhale, shifting in his seat so that he's leaning back, long legs and strong thighs spread under the table.

"No, you're okay," Azriel shakes his head, beautiful face soft with contemplation, though the darkness never leaves his eyes, the emotion behind them that I can't seem to decipher as he stares at my lips still. "That's a pretty shade of red, is all- don't you think so Cassian?"

"Definitely," Cassian mumbles roughly in agreement, a lazy smile pulling at his lip as he takes a long sip from his glass, his tongue flicking out to lick off the wine gathering there- and the sight was more provocative than it should have been. "Red might just be your colour, angel."

"Thanks, uh- it was a present from Mor for Winter Solstice," I swallow thickly, fighting the urge to grab the wine bottle and chug from it. "She said it was one of the most popular shades, I can't remember the name, but I thought it was funny to call it blowjob red."

Cauldron, the air shifts so fast, so severely at those words- blowjob red.

The second I say it it's like the darkness in their eyes, the intensity of their stares, their teasing remarks, it all slots into place- and their shields come crashing down. Arousal, stark and powerful, so raw and filthy that my core ached in response.

"Is that why you wore it tonight?" Azriel spoke, his voice like death incarnate, so quietly violent that my thighs clamped shut at the sound, at the heat behind every slow word. The air caught in my lungs as he cocked his head at me, predator eying prey, "To have us contemplating the feel of your pretty, red mouth?"

Pretty, red mouth.

Cauldron, I must be dreaming.

My lips parted- surprised, and for a moment, all I could do was blink dumbly, staring between them with confusion creasing my brow. They didn't speak, utterly silent as they watched me piece everything together, but I could sense their amusement when my brow furrowed deeper.

"I suppose it's only fair, for you to paint your lips that distracting shade of red, to wear a dress that hugs every curve on your body, it's fair for you to taunt us so mercilessly," Cassian smirks and my eyes widen at every word, at the sincerity behind them. "Especially since it seems we unwittingly were doing the same to you this morning during training."

Training?

Oh, shit, shit, shit- Cauldron fucking spare me.

"Unless Rhysand was being an asshole and lied to us?" Cassian continued, but his words were starting to blur now, the thrumming in my head overwhelming my senses, making it hard to hear, making it hard to see, to speak. "Y/N, did he lie?"

He told them.

He told them.

Fuck, he told them.

"Hey, hey, hey-" I flinch, my knee slamming against the table when something brushes over my hot cheek. Still, I calmed my alarm upon seeing the tendril of darkness flittering past my eye-line, Azriel's shadows caressing my face, anchoring me down from the panic that was building.

"I don't-uh-," I shake my head, tears lining my eyes and I clenched them shut- I wasn't sure why I felt like crying…embarrassment? Shame? Insecurity? I guess I could pick one and it would be right. "I don't know-"

"We were hoping he wasn't lying," Azriel coaxed gently, and my burning eyes lifted to him, his lovely face was so sweet, so unfathomably kind that it forced me to take a stabilising breath.

"You were?" I question hoarsely, my throat as dry as sandpaper as I glanced from Az to Cass, something coiling in me at the sight of their perfect faces, their broad shoulders, their massive wings, and their attention solely on me.

"Angel, if we haven't made it clear how badly we want you right now, then we must be shitter at flirting than I thought," Cassian snorted and I couldn't fight the smile, the breathy laugh that escaped me at his words.

He grinned at the sight, Azriel too- as if something as small as me smiling, laughing, made their day.

'You're lying to yourself if you think they're not interested in you.'

Dammit Rhysand was right.

"Rhysand wasn't lying, he's an ass but he didn't lie," I say, releasing a long breath and this time, when my eyes lift to them, when I meet their gazes, I let them see exactly how honest he had been.

I tuck a strand of hair behind an arched ear, and I don't think either of the males is even breathing as I push out of my chair, the wood screeching against the floor before I rise to my feet.

My chest aches as their gazes instantly drop down my body- over my breasts, waist, stomach, thighs, over every inch of me.

"I'm going back to my room," I whisper, and both of them go utterly still, and their eyes sharpen, primitive, completely Fae, so strong that Azriel's shadows quieten, and Cassian's wings twitch.

"Would the two of you care to join me?"

__________________________________________

@mis-lil-red @hyemishii @assaultsofthought @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @loveareum @infintyfandoms @sarawritestories @eerievixen @nyotamalfoy

Part TWO and all its filthy smut !

Comment to be added to the tag list!

Taking requests!

[writerslittlelibrary]

So, I'm not a prisoner? part 3

masterlist part 1 part 2 part 3 extra

summary: you did not expect that your mission to take down the traitor, could end in such a difficult situation for you…

pairing: Natasha x Red Room teen reader

warnings: none 

genre: fluff

words: 3293

a/n: this is the last part of this (mini) series. I’ll be posting a birthday special for tomorrow, and then that’s it 🫶

(also, I’m not American, so I apologise if the mac and cheese part is inaccurate. I just see kraft mac and cheese as some terrible artificial pasta with powdered cheese… 🫠)

You do not have my permission to repost, copy or translate my work

 |——————————— ⴵ ———————————|

After Natasha left your room, you simply allowed yourself to lay on the bed. It felt foreign to you. You’d never been allowed to just lay in bed. Laying in bed during the day was impossible in the Red Room. 

You felt slightly uneasy since the moment you were left alone. It didn’t feel like you were alone…

You sat up on the bed, scanning the room. You stood up, walking to all the corners of the room, checking for obvious placements of cameras. After checking all corners, you continued with checking the vents, and after that, the heating system. 

You couldn’t locate any cameras, but you knew they were there. You could feel it. 

After debating where the cameras could possibly be, you took another good look at the room. If you had taken someone prisoner, where would you hide the camera? 

After scanning the room for the fifth time, you decided to investigate the bedframe, finding an indent on the wooden frame at the top. The bed looked like some princess stuff to you, like a real royal would sleep in it. The bed itself had a heavy wooden frame, and the corners were high, all of them being connected with more wood at the top. There were thin, see-through curtains hanging on each corner. Yeah, real princessy…

You walked over to the desk, finding a pen. You pushed the desk chair towards the bed, stabilising yourself by holding the bedframe as you stood on the chair.  

You ran the pen over the indent in the wood, scratching some of the wood away. It didn’t take long before you saw a black spot, and you knew you finally discovered the location of the camera. 

You were quite proud of yourself, something you didn’t feel quite often. Carefully, you used the pen to pick the small camera out of the wooden bed frame, getting down from the chair and placing all items on the desk, returning the desk chair. 

You sat back on the bed, waiting for Natasha to come back, preparing yourself to ask her about the camera situation. 

------------------------------------------------------------- 

Natasha returned to the room after about 30 minutes. She carried a few books, along with some dinner for you and herself. She put all the stuff down on the desk, immediately noticing the small camera and pen. 

“What’s this?” she asked, picking up the camera. 

“I know I’m just a teenager, but I’m not that stupid, you know,” you told her, not looking at her as you laid on the bed, staring at the ceiling. 

“I know that,” Natasha started, turning around to face you and sitting on the desk chair again. “I didn’t know about this, I swear.” 

You simply shrugged, sitting up and turning your body to look at her. 

“I didn’t expect anything else. Your boss would be stupid to just leave me unattended. However, I am rather offended about the fact that they honestly thought I wouldn’t notice. Besides, I’m not sleeping in a room with a camera,” you stated, and Natasha nodded. 

“I’ll talk to Fury about it. This shouldn’t have even been in your room. This wasn’t what we agreed on…” Natasha trailed off, and to be honest, she looked more hurt than you did. 

You stayed quiet, however, and just waited on what Natasha would do next.

You noticed the stuff that Natasha had brought with her, and you felt yourself become pretty excited at the idea of being allowed to read a book for entertainment. 

It only took a few seconds before Natasha turned back into herself again. She stuffed the camera in a pocket of her jacket, and then turned to the desk, grabbing the dinner she brought. 

“So, I wasn’t really sure what you liked, but then again, I’m pretty sure you don’t know either, so I just brought you my sister’s favourite food,” Natasha stated, handing you a bowl of mac and cheese. You stirred the fork around for a bit, looking at the meal sceptically. 

“What is this supposed to be?” you asked Natasha, and she smiled. 

“It’s mac and cheese. It’s a well known American meal,” Natasha explained, smiling as she took a bite from her own mac and cheese. 

You looked at her slightly disgusted, then back at the bowl in your hands. 

“Please don’t tell me that this cheese comes from a powder from a bag…?” you asked hesitantly, and Natasha just gave you a small smirk. 

“Okay, I won’t,” she said, taking another bite of her own bowl.

“And you are sure this is edible?” you questioned, stirring the pasta around in the bowl. 

“It’s actually pretty good. You should try it,” Natasha stated, and you looked at her unsure, before turning back to your bowl, scooping a small amount of pasta of your fork and hesitantly taking a bite. 

“Well?” Natasha asked.

You shrugged. “It doesn’t suck as much as I thought it would,” you stated, taking another small bite. 

Natasha chuckled and ate her own food, smiling at the way you looked so sceptically at the meal. You didn’t really mind it, but it definitely wasn’t your favourite food.

You two ate in silence. It wasn’t uncomfortable. Maybe you’d even say you quite enjoyed Natasha’s presence. Not that you would ever admit it, of course. 

After finishing the food, Natasha took the bowl from you, setting her own one on the desk as well as she grabbed the books.

“Like I said, I got you some entertainment. I wasn’t sure what kind of stories you like, but these are books Wanda enjoyed, so I figured you’d might like them too,” Natasha explained, handing you the books. You smiled at her as you took them, placing them on the bed beside you. 

You took the first book in your lap, studying the cover and turning it over to read the back. 

“Is it a series?” you asked as you picked up the second book, comparing the covers. 

“Wanda said that that is a two book thing, and the others are stand alone”s,” Natasha explained, and you nodded as you went through the other books,

“Thank you,” you said after inspecting them all, placing them on your nightstand.

Natasha smiled and nodded. “Of course. I have something else for you, though,” she said as she reached into her pocket, pulling out a small device. 

“It’s an mp3 player. I put some music on there that I thought you’d might like. I didn’t really know what else to get for entertainment, as Fury says you’re not allowed to have any electronic devices yet, but I cannot live without music,” Natasha explained, handing you the small device. 

“Thanks,” you said as you took it, inspecting it. 

“How does it work?” you asked after a few minutes, surprised with yourself that you couldn’t manage to turn it on. Right, because that made sense. You could hack into the most complicated systems, but turning on an mp3 player was far out of your league. 

Natasha smiled and went to sit next to you on the bed, gently taking the mp3 player from your hands and turning it on.

She took her time explaining it all to you. How the playlists worked, how the volume button worked, and how to skip songs, or put them on repeat. She handed you the mp3 player back and you thanked her as you placed it on your nightstand as well.

Natasha talked with you for a bit, which mainly consisted out of her telling you stuff, and you giving responses to that. Sometimes.

------------------------------------------------------------- 

After Natasha told you goodnight and left the room, you got settled with your first book. The cover drew you in, and you were excited to read your first ever story book. 

Sure, you read books before, but all books were made to teach you something. Not to mention the fact that they were heavily indoctrinated. You had never read a book purely for your own enjoyment. You didn’t really think about it. 

Now, as you were settled in your huge, soft bed with a copy of ‘Fireborn’ in your hands, you felt an odd, warm feeling in your chest.

You couldn’t really explain it, but you enjoyed it nonetheless. 

After opening the book, you didn’t close it until the light was staring to peak into the room through the curtains. You had stayed up the entire night reading, not that you minded. You didn’t really plan on sleeping anyway. You were already having nightmares in Germany. You were certain you would have nightmares here as well.

After you put the book down, you made your way towards the bathroom, freshening yourself up and brushing your teeth. 

You took one glance at the shower before you knew you had to try it. It looked so luxurious and large. You turned the water on, smiling as you felt it warm up. You had never had a warm shower in your life.

You were in the shower for what you were sure had to be longer than an hour. You simply revelled in the warmth, enjoying the feeling of all the dirt washing off. 

You washed you hair two times, making sure all the dirt was gone before turning the shower off. The entire bathroom was warm and steamy, and the towels were huge and incredibly soft. You had never, ever in your life had a hot shower like this one. At the Red Room the water was luxe warm at best, and you were given only 5 minutes to complete your entire shower. 

When on mission, sure you showered, but you stuck to your routines, keeping the showers cool and short to make sure you wouldn’t waste valuable time. 

------------------------------------------------------------- 

After stepping back into your room and digging through your closet, you found some simple sweatpants and a sweatshirt to wear. 

You sat back on you bed, opening your book again. It was about an hour later when Natasha came into the room, and you had already finished the first book, now holding the second in your hand.

Natasha smiled at you, before noticing the book. 

“You know that is the second part, right?” she asked as she closed the door, setting some sandwiches on your desk and taking her place on your desk chair again.

“I know. I already finished the first,” you stated, putting a piece of paper you found between the pages, before closing the book and putting it on your nightstand. 

“Did you sleep?” Natasha asked surprised, and you simply shrugged. 

“I didn't feel like it,” you stated, and Natasha gave you a knowing look, however, deciding not to comment on it as she reached over to the desk, grabbing a plate and handing it to you.

“I hope you like peanut butter sandwiches,” she said as you took the plate. 

“I’ve never had one…” you said, inspecting the sandwich, taking the top part off to inspect what was on it.

“Well, you’re gonna like this even more than the mac and cheese…” Natasha trailed off, taking a bite out of her own sandwich. You gave her a confused look, turning back to the sandwich in front of you. 

“Americans don’t honestly call this bread, do they?” you asked as you picked up the sandwich. 

Natasha shrugged, eating her own sandwich without a word. 

“Calling this bread is an insult to bread…” you stated as you took a bite out of the sandwich, cringing at the doughy texture the white bread had. 

However, you finished the entire sandwich without a word, handing the plate back to Natasha after you finished. “Did you like it?” Natasha asked, putting the plate on the desk.

“It was… an interesting taste,” you stated. Natasha chuckled.

“Trust me, you’ll get some better food when you’re ready to eat at team meals. Wanda cooks the best food,” Natasha stated as she got up from her chair. You stayed seated on the bed, expecting Natasha to leave the room again. She didn’t.

“Well, come on. We need to get you some proper stuff so you don’t have to walk around in other’s people’s clothes all day,” Natasha told you with a smile, lending you her hand.

You were a little unsure at first, but you grabbed her hand nonetheless, letting her pull you from the bed. She walked over to the closet, grabbing a pair of sneakers that were standing at the bottom of it. 

“Here. They might be a bit big, but they should fit fine for a little while,” Natasha said as she handed you the shoes.

You thanked her and put them on. 

They were comfortable, but indeed, they were a bit big. Natasha left the room after you got the shoes on, and you followed her.

------------------------------------------------------------- 

Natasha had taken you to a mall. She claimed you needed some stuff, and you simply agreed with everything she said. You figured she knew better anyway, and it’s not like you wanted to upset her. She had done so much for you already, so it was better to just do what made her happy.  

Because of that, you simply agreed with every clothing item she held up, asking you if you liked it or not. 

You weren’t sure what you liked, and if you were being honest, standing in the store was absolute torture. There were so many options, and there were so many people. After being in the store for only 15 minutes, and after hearing Natasha suggest a few clothing items, you were officially sure that you did, in fact, not like shopping.

Natasha saw you were having a hard time. Of course she did, but she knew you’d hate her if she pointed it out. She knew it would be better for you to say something yourself, and so she kept quiet as she watched you walking around the store uncomfortably. 

After about 45 minutes, you still hadn’t picked anything, and Natasha decided she had given you long enough to say something yourself. 

She stopped you from walking, guiding you to a seating area and putting her basket down. 

“Are you okay?” she asked sincerely, and even though you knew she knew you weren’t, you merely shrugged and looked down at the ground. Natasha didn’t say anything, knowing you would talk out of your own initiative at some point.

“How do I know what I like?” you asked after a few minutes of silence, and Natasha smiled and she began to explain.

“You just try things on, and when you feel good in the clothes you are wearing, then you like something. If you put something on and it’s uncomfortable, and you don’t feel good in it, then you know it’s not something you like.” 

You took a minute to process the information, before standing up and pointing at a t-shirt. 

“I like that colour,” you stated, and Natasha followed your direction and she looked at the shirt. “It is a very pretty colour. You should try it on,” Natasha said as she walked towards the shirts, grabbing one in your size and putting it in her basket. 

That’s how you and Natasha spend the next 30 minutes in the store. Either you or Natasha would point something out, and if you liked the colour, you put it in the basket. 

It didn’t take long before Natasha noticed your exhaustion, and so she guided you towards the fitting rooms. You looked pretty done with the whole clothes shopping thing, and Natasha realised she might have pushed it a bit with wanting to do so much on basically your first day of freedom. 

After trying each item on, you decided that the trying on was the worst part of the whole clothes shopping. 

You picked around half of what you had picked out in the store, with Natasha’s approval of course, and after checking out, Natasha led you back towards the car. You got excited, thinking you were going to get to go back to your room and read. However, Natasha just put the bags of clothes in the car before locking it again, grabbing your hand and leading you back into the mall.

You groaned slightly, and Natasha chuckled as she led you up the escalator. 

“You’ll like this, I promise,” she stated as she dragged you towards another store. However, this store had books on it’s logo, and your annoyance washed away immediately when you noticed you had ended up at a book store. 

“I figured we should get you some books of your own,” Natasha stated, leading you inside as you nodded excitedly. 

------------------------------------------------------------- 

Natasha helped you pick out multiple books, and after she had paid for everything, you two finally made it back to the car. You were absolutely exhausted, especially after not sleeping that night, so it wasn’t much of a surprise when you fell asleep on the ride home. 

After arriving back at the tower, Natasha had carefully woken you up, not wanting to startle you. 

She carried all the clothes, while you carried the book as you two made your way back into the tower. After arriving back to you living quarters, Natasha pushed the door open. However, before you could step inside, another door opened, and Wanda just left her room.

She smiled when she noticed you two. Natasha gave her a smile in return while you let your gaze fall to the ground. 

Wanda made her way over with a smile on her face. 

“I hoped you liked the books. If you’d want, I have some more you could read,” she told you with excitement, and you glanced up at her as you gave her a small smile. 

“Thank you,” you told her before looking at Natasha, almost pleading for her to break off the conversation.

Luckily, she got the hint and turned towards Wanda. “That’s very sweet, Wanda, thank you, but I think y/n had enough to read for just now,” she stated as she motioned her head towards the book bag in you hands. 

Wanda smiled and nodded. “I love that store!” she said excitedly, and Natasha nodded in understanding before pushing your bedroom door open a little more. 

“We gotta put all this stuff away,” she explained as she looked at you, and you quickly made your way into your room. 

“I’ll see you at dinner,” Natasha told Wanda as she followed you into the room, letting the door fall close. She put all the bags on your bed, watching as you put away all the books onto a book shelf that stood against the wall. 

Natasha took it upon herself to put away all the clothes. 

You sat cross legged on the bed, watching Natasha while she put all the clothes away. After she finished, she sat at the end of your bed, giving you a sweet smile.

“Do you maybe wanna try and have dinner with the team tonight?” Natasha started, picking up on the deep breath you took. “I know it’s a bit quick, but I can assure you they’re very welcoming, and they won’t bite,” Natasha joked, hoping to calm your nerves a bit.

You shrugged. “Sure. It’s better than sitting in her all day,” you stated, and Natasha nodded in understanding. 

You weren’t used to not having a routine. You craved the discipline and order that the Red Room had always provided you. Sure, the way they did it was terrible, but you didn’t know any better. Now, after not being in the Red Room for a few weeks, and after being in the Avengers tower for two days, you craved the routine the Red Room had given you. 

But who knows? Maybe you’ll find a new routine. Maybe you’ll even enjoy this one…

Tags: @wandanatlov3r @tobiaslut @natashasgirlll @xanthreee @mrsromanovaa

Permanent tags: @marvelnatasha12346 @lesbionion @nova-kyle @darkstar225 @saraaahsstuff @marvelwomenarehot0 @screechcat @iheartjohansson @simp-erformarvelwomen @swaqcenix @karmasgxrl @marvel-lous3000 @mxximoffswifey @lorsstar1st

[fyodior]

toji x afab reader, 18+ minors dni!! breeding kink, pregnancy kink, slight size kink (big dick toji yet again), daddy kink, lots of pet names, a bit cheesy at the end, 1.3k words

“Hello? Toji, my love? You there?” you laughed, waving a hand in his face. Currently sitting at the kitchen table eating dinner together, your lover had suddenly fallen into a daze, tapping out of the casual conversation the two of you had been having as he stared into the distance.

“Oh, uh- yeah,” he stuttered, shaking his head. “What were we talking about again?”

Toji had been in a… funk all day. Ever since the two of you had been out running errands earlier that afternoon and had somehow continuously run into baby after baby.

In the grocery store, as you parsed through the avocados to determine the most appropriately ripe ones, one baby in a carrier and one held on one hip by its mother walked past, both giggling and flashing toothless smiles at him. He was enamored.

The way their chubby limbs flailed spastically as they were discovering how their bodies worked, the little bald spots that decorated their fuzzy heads, the cute matching outfits the moms had dressed them in… suddenly all of it was getting to Toji. He had always figured he’d wanted a family at some point, but the timing never felt right - he never felt ready. But now he wanted it.

Not only did he want to experience taking care of his own little one, but he really, really wanted to get you pregnant. The thought of filling you with his seed and spending the better part of a year growing his child was driving Toji fucking crazy. Seeing your stomach swell and slowly grow out of your clothes, or you waddling down the hallway, supporting the small of your back with one hand and the underside of your large belly with the other… That’s what was on Toji’s mind, instead of the mundane dinner conversation he should’ve been engaging in. He couldn’t help it though.

“What’s going through your mind, babe?” you asked, taking another bite of rice.

“Honestly?”

“I guess…”

“Getting you pregnant. Having babies. You and I starting a family,” he admitted plainly.

“Oh?” you questioned, raising a brow. “This is the first I’m hearing of this.” You couldn’t help but agree that it sounded enticing.

He smirked. “Just can’t help but daydream about how fucking sexy you’d look like that. Carrying my baby.”

Your hand instinctively came to rest on your stomach - now he had you thinking about it too. It would be a lie to say the idea didn’t make you a little nervous though, it was all so sudden. But suddenly Toji was rising from his chair and leaning on the table, towering over you with a wild look in his emerald eyes and a bulge in his pants.

“I say we go for it,” he smirked.

“Toji, I… I- let’s think on this, okay? This feels really impulsive - we’ve never talked about this before and-”

Your sentence remained forever unfinished as he scooped you out of his chair with his profuse strength and threw you onto your shared bed, the scar that ran through the corner of his lips warping as he smiled and ogled you with fire in his eyes.

Everything was a blur as he haphazardly stripped you of both your bottoms and pressed your knees all the way to your shoulders in a deep mating press, breathing hotly into your neck as his throbbing cock dragged slowly between your lips, gathering your slick before the head prodded at your hole.

“Toji,” you whined, arms wrapped tightly around his neck.

“Call me Daddy tonight,” he whispered directly into your ear before sinking into your tight cunt.

“Oh god!” you cried out, throwing your head back against the pillow and keened as he immediately bottomed out. His impossibly thick cock stretched you and filled you so wide it felt like he was gonna split you in two. Toji, aware of his size, never fucked you with so little foreplay, but he seemed to be in some sort of trance tonight, that made every ounce of his self-control dissipate into thin air.

“Gonna pump you so full of my cum your womb can’t do anything but get pregnant,” he growled as he picked up a rhythm, balls slapping hard against your ass as he fucked you hard and deep. So deep he kissed your cervix with every thrust, pulling involuntary gasps and moans every single time.

“Toj- Daddy,” you corrected yourself. “Please, need it,” you whimpered. It seemed he’d infected you with his desire to breed.

With every passing minute, the idea of getting pregnant was becoming more and more appealing. Of carrying your lover’s babies, being nothing more than a vessel for his seed and to provide him with kids.

To be doted on and pampered endlessly for nine whole months as you glowed and sported a prominent baby bump, one that caught stares and admiration from friends, family, and strangers alike. Symptoms be damned, you couldn’t help but think, no, know, you’d absolutely love being pregnant. Especially by Toji.

And to have a baby the two of you made together, seeing Toji become the amazing dad you knew he could be, was beginning to sound beautiful.

You pulled him in for a messy kiss as he fucked you with so much desperation it felt like your first time again, all teeth and tongue as both of you panted and groaned.

“Fill me up, Daddy, get me pregnant, give us a baby,” you gasped, gripping the underside of your knees and angling your hips to try and grant him the best access possible. To allow him to reach so deep inside you his cum shot directly into your womb.

“Gonna cum any second, baby, give you just what you want,” he smiled, voice breathy and gravelly.

His large hand came to rest on your tummy, rubbing the soft skin and imagining it swollen and full of his baby. Riddled with stretch marks, but so, so beautiful anyway. The thought had him cumming hard, face buried into your neck as he released a full load inside your throbbing cunt. You could feel the hard protrusions of his hip bones as he pressed himself as deep inside you as possible.

“Did so good for me, beautiful,” he smiled, beads of sweat trickling down his face. “God, I love you.”

“Love you so, so much, Toji,” you whined, on the verge of tears. “Wanna have a family with you, keep you around forever.” Your shaky arms wrapped around his neck again to pull him in for a hug, and he laughed as he reciprocated holding you close to his chest.

“Not going anywhere without you, my love,” he mumbled.

“Come lay down now, spoon me, yeah?” you smiled.

“Wait… don’t tell me you thought we were done…” he said, furrowing his brow. “Babies are rarely made with only one round.”

[jetii]

the cross fic made me realize there's not enough tech angsty fanfics

how about a groveling tech trying to get femreader back like they were an item before order 66 tech broke things off, they reunite with the batch later but reader became a very sad person after all that time

an i lied because i thought you deserved better so i pushed you away situation ?

sorry if it's a long ask 😅 first timer here

I like your writing 💕

No worries! I love a detailed prompt.

Writing angst for Tech was harder than I thought it would be tbh. I think his direct communication style and self confidence make it especially difficult, so I took a slight detour here that I feel is more true to his character.

Piece by Piece

Pairing: Tech x fem!Reader

Words: 5,630

Tags/Warnings: angst, hurt/comfort, allusions to torture, PTSD

Summary: Pushing you away was the logical decision. It was the right choice. But Tech never expected it to hurt so much, nor did he expect to reunite with you months after the rise of the Empire, broken and haunted by your time spent in Imperial custody. Now, he's determined to make things right.

Being in the same room as you is exceedingly difficult in a way Tech didn’t expect.

It’s been weeks since you returned, appearing like a vision from the Force to them, alive, and he still can’t quite believe it. His hands shake slightly when you look at him, his mouth goes dry. He still wants to reach out to you, hold you tight and never let you go, and it is agony to resist, to stand by your side and not be able to touch you.

You were the one who asked for space, time to readjust to being around them again. And he has respected that, despite the desperate, possessive urge to pull you back, to keep you close so you never leave his side again.

It makes it hard to concentrate. Hard to be of any use at all, really.

Tech knows this isn't healthy, the way his mind and body and emotions are behaving, but he is finding it difficult to control. He has a lot of feelings that he isn’t sure what to do with, a lot of emotions that he doesn't understand. Tech isn't one for emotional outbursts, for being ruled by his heart and not his mind. He is rational, logical, always thinking of the most efficient solution to a problem, the most practical way of doing things.

It’s what lead him to break it off with you, after all. He couldn’t afford to have his head in the clouds when so much is on the line, couldn't afford to be distracted by thoughts of you when they could be used against him.

But then you were gone, and Tech was left alone with only the cold reality of his own decisions.

He thought he had made the right choice. Thought he had been logical and sensible, thought it would hurt you less in the long run, if he pulled away. But Tech doesn't feel very sensible now, and it doesn't seem very logical that the best way to protect you would be to push you away.

You have been hurt more than enough. And even if you don't want him in your life anymore, even if you want nothing to do with him, he will never forgive himself for not trying to help.

The fact is, Tech isn’t sure what you want, but he is determined to make amends, to help in any way that he can. It might hurt, might cause him to feel pain at the distance between you, but he is willing to accept that, to live with it if that is what you need.

What he isn’t willing to live with is seeing you unhappy. And you are unhappy.

Your eyes are dark, hollow. Your face is drawn and gaunt, cheeks too thin, and when he sees you, your shoulders are slumped as though under an impossible weight. You barely eat, you barely sleep. Tech watches as you push food around your plate and drink only water. He notices how you keep to yourself, avoid talking and laughing and joking like you used to, and he hates that you have changed so much, that the Empire has taken that joy from you.

And that, more than anything, is what hurts him the most. The Empire took your light, the thing that makes you, you. They ripped your spark away and left a shell behind, and he is struggling to reconcile that with the bright and lively woman he knew, the woman who had such a profound effect on him.

"On all of us," Echo points out one night, as the rest of them watch you sitting alone.

Echo has become increasingly vocal about his feelings, something Tech is glad for. It gives him a chance to understand better, to gain perspective, and Echo has been the one to notice what Tech can't admit, the thing he isn't willing to think about, the thing that hurts the most.

You're suffering, and you're pushing them away.

At first, it seemed reasonable. You were gone a long time, and they hadn’t seen you. It made sense that you needed space.

But time has passed, and you're still not yourself.

Tech thinks back to your first night, how you flinched away from his touch, and realises how foolish he has been. He sees now how much he was hurting you, how much damage his words and actions were causing, and his heart breaks a little more.

It was never about protecting you. Not really.

Tech wanted you. He wanted you for so long, and when he finally had you, he was terrified of losing you. So, he pulled away. He cut ties, and told himself it was for the best.

Except now he has no ties to cut, no bonds left to sever. You're here, but not, and his chest aches as he watches you.

This isn't the way it should be.

Tech should be holding you, and you should be smiling. He should be telling you how much he loves you, how happy he is to have you back. He should be making sure you're comfortable and safe, ensuring that you have everything you need, everything you deserve.

Instead, he stands in the corner of the room, watching silently as his brothers try to coax you into eating, or drinking, or just saying something. Omega is the only one who is successful, who manages to make you smile.

Tech can't understand it. He tries his hardest, he does his best, and you always turn away.

And the more he tries, the more he feels the ache inside him grow, the more his feelings change, twisting and turning and growing, and he can't keep track of what's happening to him. All he knows is that the idea of losing you is the worst thing he can imagine, and the idea of being without you is becoming unbearable.

He doesn't know how much more he can take.

You've been avoiding him.

No, not avoiding. You've been staying away.

Or maybe, you've been ignoring him.

“She's not talking to me,” Tech admits one evening.

He's curled up in the corner of the cockpit, legs pulled up, head buried in his arms. The rest of the Batch have dispersed, going off to their own bunks to rest or to tinker or to read. Tech is usually the last to retire, but not tonight.

Tonight, his shoulders are slumped and his goggles are pushed up onto his head. He's been scrubbing at his face with the heels of his palms for the past few minutes, trying to work through the thoughts and emotions swirling in his mind.

You're not talking to him.

And yes, maybe it's because you're not talking to any of them, but it still feels personal.

You're not talking, not laughing, not doing anything, really. You’re just there, a shadow of your former self, a ghost.

Tech misses the woman who used to laugh and tease him, the one who could always bring a smile to his face and a blush to his cheeks. The woman who was a whirlwind of color and life, the one who lit up his world and made him see things differently. Who kissed him so deeply and passionately that it felt like his entire world was reduced down to the feel of her lips. He misses her warmth, her kindness, the way she touched him, looked at him.

He misses the way he felt around her.

He misses you.

Tech doesn't know what to do. He can't stop thinking about you, can't stop thinking about what he's done, what he could have done.

What he should have done.

Maybe if he'd tried harder. Maybe if he hadn't given up, hadn't let go. Maybe if he had listened to Hunter, had heard Echo. Maybe if he'd told you the truth, he could have stopped this.

Maybe, maybe, maybe.

He sighs, rubbing at his face. He feels miserable, and it's his own damn fault. He's the one who ended things, who pushed you away. And he can't blame you for that, not when it was him who decided that you weren't worth it.

That isn't to say that he didn't care. Of course, he cared. He cares now. So much it hurts.

You are the person he was in love with, the only one. But it didn't seem fair to ask you to share his life, his world, when he couldn't promise that it would always be safe, that it would always be stable. He couldn't give you a future, couldn't provide for you the way a proper partner should, the way you deserve.

He could give you the present, but he couldn't offer you anything else.

And yet, as Tech sits here, head in his hands, he can't help but think that he should have at least tried. If he'd told you how he felt, maybe things would have turned out differently.

“I only ever wanted you,” you had told him once, and Tech can't believe how stupid he was to let you slip through his fingers.

Tech isn't used to feeling helpless. He's used to knowing exactly what he's doing, to being in control. But when it comes to you, it's as if he's floundering. He doesn't know what to do, doesn't know how to act, doesn't know what you want.

He’s tried everything, he's done everything he can, and still, you push him away.

You don't want his comfort. You don't want his love.

He doesn't understand it. You've always seemed happy around him, like his presence brings you some peace. But now, whenever he gets close, you move away. When he tries to talk, you turn your back. When he offers help, you shut him down.

Tech isn't sure why you won't accept his assistance, or why you won't talk to him. It doesn't make sense.

He can't understand, can't rationalize. And he's never felt so lost.

Tech groans, burying his face in his arms. He's being ridiculous, he knows, but he can't help the way he feels.

He misses you.

Tech misses the way your hand fits perfectly in his. He misses the smell of your hair, the softness of your skin, the sweetness of your lips. He misses the way your smile makes him feel like his heart is full, like he can take on the world, like he can conquer anything.

Tech misses the way your body feels against his. The way your fingers feel on his skin. The way your breath catches when he touches you, the way your heartbeat picks up, the way your pupils dilate.

Tech misses the way you made him feel alive.

Tech knows that he isn't worthy of your affection. He knows that he doesn't deserve your love. He's not a good man, not a good partner, not a good friend. He's not the kind of person who should have someone like you, and yet, somehow, you chose him.

But not anymore.

“I only ever wanted you.”

You said those words to him before, and they haunt him. You told him you didn't care about the risks, the dangers, the fact that he couldn't give you the future you deserve. All you cared about was him.

And he threw it away.

Tech isn't sure how long he sits there, wallowing in his misery. He doesn't move, doesn't speak. He just sits, and broods.

“Maybe she just needs time,” Echo says, though his voice sounds doubtful.

Tech shakes his head before pressing the heel of his palm into his forehead.

“She has made it clear that she doesn't wish to speak to me, or see me, or have anything to do with me."

The words sting as he speaks them. His throat is tight, and he swallows hard, trying to hold back the emotion.

"I doubt a little more time will change her mind."

There's a long silence.

Echo leans against the wall beside Tech, his arms folded. He's watching Tech carefully, his gaze piercing. Tech feels uncomfortable, and shifts, ducking his head. He doesn't like being scrutinized, doesn't like being vulnerable. He prefers to keep his emotions in check, his feelings close to his chest.

But he's finding it hard to hide them now, and his pain is obvious, even to himself.

“But she does,” Echo says finally.

Tech glances up, frowning. "Elaborate."

"She does want you," Echo clarifies, his voice gentle. "She loves you. She wouldn't have come back if she didn't.”

Tech doesn't want to admit it, but Echo has a point. If you didn't want anything to do with him, then you wouldn't have bothered to find him. You would have left, disappeared again, and never come back.

You wouldn't have risked your life for him.

Tech isn't sure if that makes him feel better, or worse.

Because it means that you do care, but it also means that you might be willing to sacrifice yourself, and Tech can't have that. He can't let you throw away your life, not for him.

Tech groans, burying his face in his hands. He's being selfish, and he knows it. You're the one who was captured, the one who suffered, the one who nearly died. And yet, all he can think about is how much it hurts.

He's been thinking about how much it hurts him. He hasn't been thinking about what you need.

"What should I do?" Tech asks, his voice small and defeated.

"Apologize," Echo replies simply.

"I have tried," Tech protests, lifting his head. "I have apologized countless times, and she does not want to listen. She doesn't want to speak to me."

"No," Echo corrects. "You've apologized for the wrong things."

"Wrong things?" Tech echoes, frowning.

"Yes, the wrong things," Echo repeats.

Tech isn't sure what Echo means by that, but his brother looks confident, sure of himself. Tech wants to believe him, but he doesn't know how. He's spent so long trying to convince himself that he did the right thing, that he did the only thing, that he can't help but doubt.

"How do I fix it?" he asks, voice quiet.

"That, I can't tell you," Echo replies. "But Tech, the first step is admitting that you were wrong."

Tech nods, letting his shoulders sag. He doesn't feel particularly good about the situation, but he's willing to try. It's not easy, admitting he was wrong. He's so used to being right, to having the answer, to knowing what's best. But when it comes to you, he has never felt so lost.

Tech thinks of the pain in your eyes, the way you flinched from him, the way you turned away.

He has to do better. He has to be better.

He has to earn your forgiveness.

"I was wrong," Tech says, his voice steady and sure. "And I'm going to make it right."

You're standing in the middle of the room, surrounded by medical supplies and overturned cots. Your face is pale, eyes wide and fearful, and Tech isn't sure what to do.

The voice of his brothers and Omega inside his head tell him you need space, but they also remind him that you need someone to look after you. That you need help. That you can't be alone.

Tech hesitates. He isn't used to this, the uncertainty, the not knowing what's best. He's never been particularly good at reading people, and even worse at knowing what they need.

He has never been more unsure than he is now.

He wants to help. He wants to take care of you, to make you feel safe, to give you what you need. But he's terrified of getting it wrong. Especially when you're standing in front of him looking like a startled animal.

You're shaking, and your breathing is fast and shallow. Your eyes are darting around the room, as if searching for something. Tech isn't sure what it is, or if it even exists. You look terrified, and Tech knows you have reason to be. The last time you were in a place like this, the Empire was holding you captive, and he can't blame you for feeling uncomfortable.

Tech has to suppress a shudder as he remembers the footage, the recordings they managed to get from the base. The screams, the cries. They haunted his dreams, and Tech can't even imagine what they did to you.

Tech wants nothing more than to run to you, to take you in his arms and promise that he will protect you. But he can't, not without permission.

Not when he isn't sure you'd even want him to.

So, instead, he stands there, watching. He keeps his distance, gives you the space you need. He's trying his best, but it isn't easy.

She just needs time, he tries to remind himself, but Tech isn't so sure.

He isn't sure if time is enough. He isn't sure if anything will ever be enough.

He watches as you stand there, your hands clenched into fists, your eyes still scanning the room. He watches as your breathing speeds up, your chest rising and falling rapidly. He watches as the panic spreads over your face, your lips pressed together, jaw tight.

You look scared, vulnerable, and Tech's heart breaks a little more.

“Cyare,” he calls out, as quiet and soothing as he can manage. You stiffen, and Tech curses himself for causing you discomfort.

He should have stayed quiet.

But then you turn, and your eyes meet his, and something inside him seems to settle.

You look so sad, so lost, and he can't help it. He walks over to you, careful and slow, making sure not to startle you. When he reaches you, he holds out his hand, palm up. He wants you to know that he is there for you, that he will not hurt you.

He will never hurt you again.

He waits, holding his breath. He's afraid that if he moves, if he speaks, you will run. So, he stands, motionless, watching as you stare at his hand.

Slowly, slowly, you reach out, your fingertips brushing his. The touch is gentle, tentative, and Tech is afraid to breathe.

Then, your hand closes around his, and he exhales.

Tech knows he's taking a risk, touching you, but he can't resist. He can't stand the thought of leaving you alone, the thought of not being able to help. He pulls you close, wrapping his arms around you. He doesn't know what else to do. He wants to hold you, to keep you safe.

He never wants to let you go.

You're shaking, your breath coming in shallow gasps. You're trembling, and Tech knows that this is a big step, that you're taking a chance. So, he holds you, and he waits.

Your body is tense, and Tech is worried that he's overstepped, that he's pushed you too far. But then, slowly, you relax. Your arms wrap around him, your head resting on his shoulder, and he can't help but sigh in relief.

The others are nearby, finishing a sweep of the facility. He should be helping, but he doesn't want to leave your side. Not when you're finally letting him be close to you.

So, he holds you, and he strokes your hair. He whispers quiet reassurances in your ear, tells you that everything will be alright, that he's got you, that you're safe.

He's not sure if you believe him, but he has to try.

He can't lose you again.

Tech is trying.

He's trying his best, but he feels like he's failing.

Every day, every hour, every minute, his mind is filled with thoughts of you.

He thinks about how you're doing, whether or not you're eating, sleeping. He thinks about the nightmares you have, the way your body shakes as you wake, pale and trembling, gasping for air.

He thinks about how his brothers can't seem to calm you, how only Omega is successful, her soft voice and gentle touch somehow bringing you some measure of peace.

Tech can't help but feel that it should be him. It should be him comforting you, not Omega. It should be him easing your pain, not his little sister.

It should be him.

He isn't sure why he can't seem to do anything right. After they left the facility, after you finally started letting him hold you, Tech thought things would get easier.

But they haven't.

You still seem so distant, so far away. You still refuse to eat, to sleep, to talk. And Tech isn't sure how much longer he can handle this.

He's frustrated. Frustrated at himself, at the Empire, at the galaxy. Most of all, he's frustrated at you. Not that he would ever admit it aloud.

You've been through a lot. More than anyone should have to go through. Tech understands that. But he can't help but feel that maybe, just maybe, if you'd been willing to accept his help earlier, things would have been different.

Tech doesn't mean it, not really. He doesn't think that it's your fault. He's just tired, and angry, and frustrated. 

And, if he's being honest, he's a little jealous.

You trust Omega. You open up to her. But you won't even talk to him.

It hurts.

Tech has spent the past few weeks trying to make things right, to show you that he’s changed. But you seem unwilling to let him in, to let him help.

It's infuriating.

Tech knows he shouldn't feel this way, but he can't help it. You were his girlfriend, his partner, his lover. And now, you won't even look at him.

He's trying, but he feels like he's getting nowhere. He wants to help, wants to be there for you. But he can't do anything if you won't let him.

“I’m not sure if this is a good idea,” Omega says, her voice uncertain. Her feet swing over the edge of the bunk across from him, and her brow furrows. “Won’t she be mad?”

Tech sighs, running a hand over his face. He knows that Omega is worried, but he can't sit around any longer. He has to do something.

"She is already upset. I'm not sure anything else could make things worse."

Tech tries to sound convincing, but the truth is, he isn't sure what the consequences will be. He isn't sure what will happen, isn't sure if this is a good idea. But he has to try.

“If you’re sure,” Omega replies slowly.

Tech nods, trying his best to look confident.

"I'm sure."

He isn't.

"Okay."

Omega pulls out her datapad and types the message. Tech watches as she hits send, then lets out a shaky breath. She slides off the edge of the bunk and hurries down the ramp, leaving him alone.

Tech waits, his nerves growing with each passing second.

You are going to hate him for this, he's sure.

But he has to do it. He has to try.

"Tech?"

Your voice is quiet, uncertain. You're standing in the doorway, arms wrapped around yourself, and Tech feels his chest ache at the sight.

You're here.

You're actually here.

"Hello," he says quietly.

“Where’s Omega?” you ask, your voice sharp. You step forward, and the light catches your face. Tech can see the bags under your eyes, the paleness of your skin. You look tired, worn down, and he hates it.

Tech winces. "She's not here."

"Where is she?"

You sound panicked, and Tech doesn't blame you. The last thing he wants is to make you more stressed. But he needs to talk to you, and this is the only way.

"She is fine," Tech says, trying to sound reassuring. "I asked her to leave."

You narrow your eyes, taking another step toward him. You're still clutching your arms, as if you're trying to hold yourself together. Tech wants to reach out, to take your hands, but he knows you'll pull away.

“What do you want, Tech?” Your voice is harsh, but Tech doesn't mind. You're speaking to him, which is more than he's gotten out of you in days.

"I, ah, I wanted to talk," Tech replies, his tone hesitant.

"About what?"

Tech swallows, his throat suddenly dry. "About us."

You frown, folding your arms across your chest. "There is no 'us', Tech. There hasn't been for a long time. You made sure of that."

Your words are sharp, cutting, and Tech can't help but flinch. He deserves them, he knows. But it doesn't make the sting any less. He takes a deep breath, trying to find the words.

"I'm sorry," he says, his voice barely above a whisper. "I was wrong. I shouldn't have ended things."

You stare at him, eyes wide. Tech isn't sure if you're surprised, or just angry. He can't read you, not anymore. He isn't sure if he ever could. He's always felt a little bit of awe, a little bit of fear when it came to you. And now, more than ever, he feels completely lost.

"So why did you?" you ask, your voice tight.

Tech sighs, adjusting his goggles nervously. He's not sure how to answer that. He isn't sure if he even has an answer.

"I was... afraid," he admits, his voice low.

"Afraid of what?"

Tech shrugs, looking away. "Everything. The future, the war, losing you."

You don’t say anything, and Tech takes a deep breath, forcing himself to continue.

“I ran an exhaustive cost benefit analysis, and I had determined that the risks far outweighed the benefits. I could not continue our relationship knowing that I would most likely hurt you. In my mind, I needed to end things before they went any further. Before you were able to become attached.”

"I was already attached," you whisper, your voice cracking. "I was already in love with you."

Tech's heart stutters.

"You were?" he asks, his voice quiet.

You nod, biting your lip. Tech feels his stomach twist, a mixture of guilt and hope rising in him. You were in love with him. You are in love with him. And he has hurt you more than he ever thought possible.

"I was a coward," Tech says quietly. "I knew if we had gone any further, and I were to hurt you, it would have caused me immense emotional pain. And, in the process, I would have risked my ability to perform at optimal efficiency, and that would have resulted in harm to the rest of the squad."

Tech looks up, meeting your gaze. "I didn't want to hurt you, and I didn't want to put the squad at risk. But in the end, I failed at both."

You frown, and Tech can tell that you're trying to understand.

"So, let me get this straight," you begin, your voice strained. "You broke up with me, because you thought it was the best option for everyone involved."

Tech nods, his expression pained.

“That’s not for you to decide, Tech. I can make my own decisions. And, I decided to be with you. But instead, you made the decision for both of us, and you didn't even bother to ask my opinion."

“I knew that if I had discussed it with you, you would have tried to convince me otherwise,” Tech explains, his voice soft. “And I wasn't certain I would be able to resist your arguments."

You shake your head, an incredulous look on your face. "So, basically, you dumped me because you couldn't trust yourself to make a logical decision?"

Tech's shoulders slump, and he nods, his head bowed.

"That is correct. It is also…” He looks at his hands, his expression pained. “For all of my unique modifications, I am still a clone. I am still expendable. But you, you are not. You are more important. You are special." He hesitates, swallowing hard. "You are irreplaceable."

Tech can see tears gathering in your eyes, and he feels a fresh wave of guilt wash over him. He never meant to hurt you, but it seems he has managed to do just that. And now, he doesn't know how to fix it.

"Tech, no." You shake your head. "You're not expendable. None of you are."

"That may be the case," Tech concedes. “But at the time I could not see a future in which the two of us could have a happy life together. Not with the way things were, not with the risk we faced. So, I chose the safest option."

"But we could have figured it out, Tech. We could have found a way."

Tech shakes his head, his expression weary.

"I was not willing to take the risk. I was not willing to gamble with your safety, with your happiness. It was a decision I had to make. For all of our sakes."

You are quiet for a moment, your expression thoughtful. Tech can see the pain in your eyes, the hurt and betrayal, and he wishes he could take it all away. He wishes he could erase his mistakes, undo his actions.

"You made the wrong choice," you say at last, your voice low.

"Yes, I did," Tech admits, his voice quiet. "I was wrong. About a great many things."

He looks up, his gaze meeting yours.

"But I'm willing to do whatever it takes to make things right. I'm willing to do whatever it takes to prove to you that I'm serious, that I want to fix things."

"Why?"

"Because I love you," Tech says, his voice breaking.

Your eyes widen, and you suck in a breath. Tech can see the surprise in your expression, the shock. He knows you didn't expect him to say it, to admit it. But it's the truth. And Tech can't hide it any longer. He can't pretend.

He has to be honest. Even if it means losing you.

"I love you," he repeats, his voice stronger this time. "I always have. I've never stopped. I didn't think I was capable of loving anyone, not like this. But, you changed that." He pauses, swallowing hard. "I don't want to lose you, cyare. Not again. Not ever."

"Tech."

You say his name softly, your voice cracking. Tech can see the tears welling in your eyes, and his chest aches. He wants to take you in his arms, wants to kiss away the pain, but he knows he can't. He knows he has to let you decide. He has to let you choose.

You step forward, and his breath hitches in his chest. You're so close, so near, and Tech wants nothing more than to hold you. But he doesn't. He stays where he is, waiting.

You reach out, your hand cupping his cheek, and Tech leans into the touch, savoring the warmth of your skin. You're looking at him, your eyes searching his, and Tech hopes that you can see the truth in them, the sincerity. He hopes that you can feel how much he loves you, how much he needs you.

"I'm sorry," he murmurs, his voice breaking.

You nod, and he can see the tears streaming down your cheeks. Tech wants to wipe them away, but he doesn't move. He stays where he is, watching you, waiting. You're still staring at him, and Tech feels a flicker of hope bloom in his chest.

"I'm sorry, too," you whisper, your voice raw. "I'm sorry I shut you out. I'm sorry I pushed you away. I'm sorry for everything."

You pause, biting your lip. "I love you, Tech. I never stopped. And, I don't want to lose you, either."

Tech's heart swells, and he can't stop the tears that come, or the smile that spreads across his face. You're looking at him with such tenderness, with such love, that he can't help but reach for you, pulling you close, wrapping his arms around you, holding you tight. You melt into his embrace, your arms winding around his waist, your face buried in his chest. 

Tech can feel your tears, wet against his skin, and he runs a hand through your hair, trying to soothe you. You cling to him, your grip almost desperate, and Tech feels his heart break a little more.

You've been through so much, endured so much pain, and he was part of it. He was responsible for it. And he doesn't know how to make it better. He doesn't know how to take away the hurt, the betrayal, the fear. All he can do is hold you, and promise to never let you go.

"Cyare," he breathes, his voice choked with emotion. "You will never lose me. I am yours. Always."

And then, you lift your head, and his eyes meet yours, and Tech can't stop the surge of emotion that rushes through him. You're so beautiful, so perfect, and he can't believe how lucky he is. 

You're the best thing that has ever happened to him, the only thing that has ever made him feel alive. And now, here you are, in his arms, telling him you love him. It's everything he's ever wanted, everything he's dreamed of. And it's real. You're real. You're here. And you're his.

"I love you," Tech whispers, and then he leans in, capturing your lips with his.

The kiss is soft, gentle, filled with everything he's feeling, everything he can't say. And when you pull away, Tech's heart skips a beat, and he wonders how he ever thought he could live without you.

"I love you," you whisper back, and Tech can't stop the smile that spreads across his face, the tears that sting his eyes. He holds you tight, and the world seems to fade away, leaving just the two of you.

He's never letting you go again.

[libertyybellls]

WINNERS PRIZE !

one

pairing; mentor!finnick x victor!reader

summary; tough love turns to rough luck, mentor!finnick cant help but worship you, and victor!reader can’t wait to have him.

contains; SMUT! mdni. minor choking kink idk, oral, f!recieving, penetration, dom!finnick, sub!reader, lmk if i missed anything.

you kiss him, pull him impossibly close to you until you can’t anymore- until your lungs now beg for oxygen- but all you want to do is breath him in. you pull away, and your eyes open, nearly in shock, but more in amusement.

“believe me now?”

it’s the way he purrs if, the way it’s echoing through your ears. it makes it so you can’t answer, you’re not sure you can even think. all you want is the feeling of his lips on yours again- but what you want is wrong.

your aching for him, and where it is, is wrong. so wrong, you shouldn’t have even kissed your mentor- you should feel dirty, ashamed. and he notices your shock. of course he does.

“what’s wrong?” to him your expression is unreadable, and he’s scared. are you going to scream at him? are you going to regret it all? did he overstep? your lips on his again quiets his mind, it soothes him.

you’re pulling him into you, and he thinks he’s in heaven. there’s no better feeling than your fingertips dancing around the back of he neck, your hand grasping onto his shoulder, your soft lips moving against him.

you pull him out of his thoughts, “finnick?”

and he hears his voice when he speaks, he hears his urgency to assist to you and only you in this moment. he could care less about himself. “what is it what’s wrong?” your faces are touching, he’s looking into your eyes as yours are down at his lips, scanning over every feature of his face.

“touch me.” you don’t say where, and you don’t care. you need to feel his hands on you, grabbing at you in desperation.

and that he does, without a moment to spare his hands are mapping you out. his mouth is feverishly back onto yours, a groan being muffled by your mouths on one another.

one of his hands is controlling your movements, resting on the middle of your back. the other only slightly below it, right before the curve of your bottom, his hands are hungry and so is his mouth- devouring you.

your bodies are pressed up against one another, and he squeezes your ass- surprising you. your hips rock forwards onto his and as if in-sync, you both moan out.

he’s tented onto your heat, thin dress making you all the more sensitive. every touch made you squirm, set your skin alight. and he noticed that, it drove him mad. thinking about how delicate you were now, only making him then realize the two of you were still standing.

he hoists you onto his hips, carrying you over to the queen sized bed, and placing you down as if it would break.

“is this okay?” he asks atop you, hand tracing your jawline, dropping at your chin and gently redirecting your face to his. you nod, and he tsks, “don’t go quite on my now sweetheart, need to hear your voice.”

you could cry, all you need is to have his touch on you and you would be fine. “please.”

that wasn’t good enough for him, you can see it on his face. “please what? what is it that you want baby?”

you don’t know what you want, anything. you just want him. “please touch me finnick.” your eyes flutter up to his and he thinks this is the purest picture of eroticism. he placed a soft kiss on to your lips until moving down the straps of your dress to kiss along your shoulders.

you take it upon yourself to disregard the dress from your body. besides the fact you couldn’t stand to be in it any longer, having already done your interview in it, you needed his skin on yours.

he kisses down your body, stopping once he reaches your black panties, matching your dress that is now long gone.

he thinks you’ve never looked more beautiful, your looking down at him. he can see the rise and fall of your chest- your hardened nipples through your bra.

with no warning he pulls the fabric of your underwear aside, placing one kiss on the inside of your thigh, pulling your legs apart, its all so agonizingly slow.

finnick cages himself into you, your legs placed over his shoulders. and finally, his lips and tongue are blissfully on you. his hands hold your hips as you almost squirm away from his touch.

he’s not in a rush, he’s slow, precise, and calculated with what he’s doing. he’s stops his licking to suck onto your swollen clit and looks up at you. your lips puffy, head thrown back, and your gripping the sheets.

he has to resist his urge to pull away from his found heaven between your legs to attack your exposed neck, it’s tempting but he returns to flattening his tongue and striping into your hole.

you’re in a daze, you want to see him, but it all feels too good. “i need you inside of me.” it’s almost a sob, more like a beg.

and he tries not to move too hurriedly, pressing a kiss to your bundle of nerves one more before, rising up. his shirt is over his head and his pants are unbuckled and left to lay around the room in seconds.

you can almost see all of his length through his tented boxers, it’s frightening, exciting, and you’re eager.

his lips are on your neck, your back is arching off of the bed and all you can focus are his arms flexing as he holds himself up above you. “you’re my prize y/n.” one of his hands are playing with the seashell necklace you’ve forgotten to take off.

then his lips move onto yours, you can taste yourself through the kiss, it’s sickening how much you’re enjoying this all. “the sweetest fucking prize. you’re all that i want.” he speaks through kisses, your heart is fluttering- chest warm.

it must be too good to be true, you have the capitols darling above you, telling you how badly he needs you, not just in this moment- but in every other fleeting moment of his life he’s needed you.

you see the stain of pre-cum on his boxers, and it almost makes you feel prideful. prideful that with the very little you’d done to him- it’s driven him to this point. and shortly his boxers are coming off, and he’s looking into your eyes.

he almost gets lost in your eyes, “the most beautiful thing.” his hand is moving up your neck, stopping at the side of it. you blush and look away- his stare is almost undressing you more. if that was possibly, your dress and panties were already out of sight.

he redirects your face again, “look at me.” he’s lining himself up with you, “i want you to look at me when i show you how much you make me feel.” words weren’t his strong suit, but, show you is exactly what he did.

he looks into your eyes for any hint of doubt before he’s intruding you, he sighs out-nearly and you could’ve sworn you saw stars at that beautiful noise alone.

you don’t think you’ll last long and he doesn’t think he will either, you were so tight and he had been hard for so long. he was trying to get the most out of it, not race to the finish line.

once you’ve found a comfortable pace, his hand applies pressure to the side of your neck- now you were certainly seeing stars.

this makes everything feel all the more intense, the way his lustful eyes have not left yours, the way he’s rolling his hips into you, the sounds echoing from your room, his sinful praises.

your so very stimulated, wrapped up in the pleasure of it all your head turns into the pillow as you moan out his name. “fuck, do as you’re told, y/n.” and you do, like putty under his hold you turn to face him again.

“feels’ so good finnick. i want you inside of me” you cry out, and maybe it’s the way you’re moaning his name, maybe it’s the way he’s knowing how good he makes you feel, but he can’t help but think about how it should only ever be him who has you in this position.

all he wants to do after this is protect you, to never let you cry unless it’s in his arms, to only let you get to pent up and angry at him, he wants to be the only person who makes your world go round.

he’s close and you are too, he can’t help but kiss you as he feels himself nearing the edge of it all. you’re clenching around him in a way that makes his head spin, “come with me honey.”

his raspy tone, his pressure on your throat, the knot in your stomach- it’s so perfect, so beautiful.

you reach your climax right after he does- repeating his name like a chant.

“i’ve got you.” if you weren’t so enamored by his voice you wouldn’t have heard it.

once finnick has rolled onto his side, he pulls you ontop of him, kissing your shoulders, fingers kneading into the fat of your waist. your sure you’ve left the bed in ruins, but he doesn’t care.

all finnick cares about now is you, he doesn’t want anything to change, but he wants everything to change all at once.

he wants to tell you he loves you, but he doesn’t want to disturb the ride and fall of your chest. he wants to take you away from all the pain and suffering that will come your way, but he doesn’t want to leave this bed with you just yet.

“i’m sorry.” your words are muffled by his chest. he looks down at you, running a hand through your hair. his brows are furrowed, what could an angel like you ever apologize for? “for yelling at you. it’s not your fault, i was scared.”

he’s quiet, and you look up to face his eyes, you’re scared he’s in regret. that he’s trying to escape this moment, but you see the concern in his eyes, “there will never be a moment where i don’t look out for you ever again.” he wants to swear to you that you’ll never feel a second of pain but he can’t promise that.

-

masterlist

requests are open!!!

[azmaranadir]

I've been searching for windbreaker headcanons/smut and I came across ur blog..I love ur writing sm!!😭. And I've also realized that there aren't that much windbreaker content (or I'm maybe looking in the wrong places). I wanted to request Jay Jo smut (I love him😂) if ur not up to it that's totally fine, thank you!

APOLOGY

NSFW 18+ WIND BREAKER, FEM READER X JAY, AGED UP (Even when I think they are like...19?), PIV, SMUT, UNPROTECTED SEX, A BIT FLUFF, BEING CALLED LOVE, A BIT JEALOUSY, HEAVY SMUT, SEASON FOUR SPOILERS? JUST A BIT, NOT MUCH...DON'T READ IT IF YOU ARE UNDER 18, I'M NOT SPEAKING ENGLISH FLUENTLY

You were not happy, you were angered, maybe a bit jealous, maybe even furious. Your Boyfriend had seen the girl, you very much dislike; naked. Butt naked, He saw her naked body glitter with water, saw more of her than he probably had seen from you. And that was after she was shit-talking you. Calling you a ‘Back seat Princess’ and now she was seen by your boyfriend, Naked, which was enough to make you want to beat the shit out of him and her.

You could be nice, you could sit down for a few seconds and accept the fact that neither of them intended to see the other naked, but you were childish. You want to be childish, you were allowed to be childish.

You deserve it, after all, it was his fault for looking toward Noah during dinner, with blushing cheeks. Which causes Noah to get red too. It was ridiculous, you were close to scoffing like a child, hissing ‘Look a porn if you want to get wet’. But even for that, you were too angered.

“What’s up with you two?” Dom asked, from the opposite side of you two, brow raised confused as he practically saw the tension between you and Jay. Which causes the latter to flinch and you to chew harder on your fish. You could barely contain the sharp, tight smile that you gave him, hissing through your teeth: “Why don’t you ask her.” You forced through your teeth, glaring toward Noah.

“(Y/N),” Jay whispered, probably trying to soothe your anger, however, it did little, on the other hand, it just flued more anger. “Oh, are you on her side now? Huh?” You barked, causing the table to quiet down, Noah turned her head away from you two, hiding her red cheeks with a curtain of her hair. However, it was enough for you to take notes.

“You know what? I am finished.” You cursed, pushing Jays hand away as he tries to stop you, almost running out of the room.

“Did I do something wrong?” Dom asked deadpanned, earning a deadpan expression from Shelly.

------

The door opens behind you with a swift move, causing your shoulders to tensed as you hear the pattern of his feeds against the Tatami mat. “Love?” He called you. Something you were sure he would never say to you or anyone, but you made the impossible possible. Especially when it comes to Jay Jo.

But you were in no mood to be wooed by that pet name, no, you wouldn’t acknowledge the way your shoulders relaxed when he sat down right behind you, how his knee bumped your back and made you arch your back. And especially not when you feel his breath runs down your neck, leaving you trembling.

“No…No! I am angry!” You scold him and yourself, finger pointed at his face as he sighed unsure. “I’m sorry?”

“You have to do much better than this to make me forgive you!” You growl at him, your back turned toward him again, as your fingers went back to fix your bike. It was wrecked a bit during the race against the Kazuma Crew, nothing major to ask Momoko to fix it, but it kept your mind busy, and your fingers from either killing Noah or Jay.

“I didn’t mean to see Noah naked.” Jay apologized, hand moving your hair away, placing his chin on your shoulder. “Who cares! She saw you!”

Jay stopped in his movements, raising a brow.

“Are you jealous that she saw me in only a towel?”

“100 points nerd.” You scoffed, trying to push his face away from your neck, just to be pulled closer to him, and placed on his lap. The only thing that kept you two separate was the thin fabric of those Kimonos. And they did little to stop his dick to pock your back.

“Maybe I know how to apologized probably.”

-------

“Jay—!” you mewled quietly as his hand found his way to your breast, squeezing the flesh, leaving you breathless. You felt his tip bully the your G-spot, leaving you to squeeze around his length, hoping that he could stay like that forever. “D—D—Don’t stop-mngh—!”

“Mhm?” He pressed his chest against your back, his other hand traveling to your pussy, finding the nub of pleasure to rub, leaving you almost sobbing. “Mh? Why should I stop?” He whispered against your ear, lips nibbling on it. He always did it: breast, clit, ear. Breast, clit ear. He was switching between them as if it were buttons to press in a video game. Leaving you quivering and gasping.

You whimpered his name, trying to keep some decent thought, not everyone needs to know what you and he were doing in your room. No one needs to know what kind of Apology he offers you.

The hand that used to fix your bike was now using the bike as the only thing that kept you grounded on earth. Clenching the metal so hard that it could clench. Your pussy trying to adjust to the size of his cock, his length filling you completely. He was so big, so long, he was so much. Your Walls were burning, and it was so fucking hot.

“Will you forgive me, love?” He whispers in your ear, licking and nipping on your earlobe. “Yes! Yes! I—I forgive you—! Fuck—! Just don’t stop! Please don’t stop Jay!” You begged him, as if you were the one needing to apologize, begging him to make you cum.

He pressed his lips against your wet cheek, using his fingers to roll your nipple between them. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, pressing your face in the crook of his neck, trying to escape those kisses. “Don’t run away.” He huffed, his hand leaving your clit, to hold your jaw at the right angle, everything to kiss you properly. His fingers were coaxed with your juice, leaving an itchy feeling on your skin.

Your cunt was a mess, your thighs were sticky from the amount of times he had made you cum. Your lips were jutting to follow his messy kisses. He was amused, something you would have noticed if your mind wasn’t so full of him. But how couldn’t you? How could you not let your mind get filled by him? When he so genuinely apologizes to you.

“I’m yours…” He whispered.

You took your lower lip between your teeth, nodding your head with your eyes wide open. Loving the way his hair stuck to his forehead, how his cheeks were so sweet pink, and his lips swollen just like yours, from all the kisses. God you love him so much.

“Mine,” you breathed out, trying to meet his thrusts, “Y—Your mine, n—not Noah! Your mine, J— Just mine,”

Jay gave a stoic hum, letting you press your ass on him and swallow his dick whole, his tip pressing against the deepest part of your body. He didn’t even need to hold your waist, he was so good at fucking you with no hands, allowing him to use his hands to pleasure you in other places that would make you lose your mind. “Yours,” slap, “Yours,” slap, “Yours—” slap, “Alone.” He grunts out.

His hand on your breast went back to your mind, as he pulled on your nipples, watching how your lips open to let a loud moan out. You fit in so perfectly in his hands, with your body arching, to search after his hands, then he felt you clenching around him even more, encouraging him to continue his abuse of your nipples.

“Come on love, you will cum for me, right?” He grunts, kissing your lips again, leaving enough spit on them to watch it roll down your jaw to your collarbone, drenching the collar of the kimono. In the heat of the moment, neither of you thought to take it off, only to push it aside. But he likes it: how the kimono barely hides something, and the only thing that kept it together was the small cloth belt that kept it bound around your waist.

Your cunt clenched, chest heaving at the greed in his gaze, his question so hard to understand with the way he filled you to the brink. You only could let out moans and whimpers.

“Right?”

Jay pulled himself away, punished you for not answering him immediately. Your pussy already clenching around nothing, trying to get him back in. Even when his size was stretching you so hard that it could break. You love this burning sensation.

You could feel your back arching, Eyes wide with tears. “Yes! Yes! So close Jay! Ju—Just don’t stop! Please you said you want to apologize! Your mine! Please make me yours too!” You whimper, ass rubbing against him, seducing him to get back in to make you cum.

“You are already mine, love,” he snickered, mouth pressed against your lips again, and swallowed your cries greedily. And with a strong thrust, he pushed back in your pussy, leaving a loud slap echo in the room.

And with this one thrust you were already gushing over him, pushed you over the edge so easily, and already forgetting why you were even angry in the first place.

you only knew that you love the way he apologized.

Jay is also my fav Character.

[nandolonso]

UNDISCLOSED DESIRES (Fernando Alonso x Reader)

TITLE: Undisclosed Desires – aka who is the biggest fan of whom? (Fernando Alonso x Reader)

I got inspired after Baku. P6 BABY, LET’S GOOOOOOOOOO!

FYI: English is not my main language nor is Spanish. I’m sorry for any mistakes.

Word count: 4K

Warnings: self-doubt, self-image issues, kind of shy reader, reassuring and slightly dominant Nando (who worships the shit out of you), happiness, positive social media presence, Spanish, dirty talking and fingering, smuttish – I hope you enjoy it. 😉

Recommended song: Undisclosed Desires by Muse

Explanation: Y/N – your name, Y/H/C – your hair color

Also, this GIF is chef's kiss, his gaze is so intense. GOSH!!! 🔥 I hope you'll like it. Let me know what you think! ❤️‍🔥

//

It was race day in Baku.

You were sitting in the paddock waiting for Fernando Alonso to show up. Your boyfriend. It was hard to comprehend that he was your man, your partner. It was an unbelievable title – but it was true, he really was yours.

However, the last period has been challenging for both of you. On the one hand, Alonso has spent several periods away from you, as Aston Martin has struggled to get a good position in recent months. Of course, Fernando took his job very seriously, so he helped the engineers where he could. They did a lot of test laps, planning, thinking.

As for you: you were an average person. You were not a reporter or a supermodel. You were completely different from Alonso's previous partners. You were ordinary – in the best possible way. But it was a very difficult situation for you. You often questioned yourself: were you good enough? Were you good enough not only for yourself but for him? Where did you belong in this world? Especially seeing the other WAGs, and how pretty and thin they were… And you could go on. So, all that time you spent apart didn't help your already fragile mental state.

It was tough for you not to project your self-doubt onto him. And you hated yourself for it. Because there was nothing you wanted more than to be there to support him in every race. To be there for him, always. But a lot of times your state of mind, the media presence, and all the hustle and bustle didn't help you at all. That's why you stayed mostly in the background, as you didn't want Fernando to worry any more than he had been worrying lately.

Fortunately, Aston Martin recently managed to sign Adrian Newey to the team, and you could almost see the "life" returning to Fernando's eyes. The love of your life was shining as he entered the paddock: his stance was firm and confident, that mischievous smile at the corner of his mouth was back, and his gaze was sparkling with fire which you hadn't seen for a long time now.

You couldn't help thinking how good he looked. How he deserves to be world champion again. Your world champion. The thought made your chest tighten. You loved him so much it almost hurt. You wanted him to be happy and succeed so much – it was sometimes physically impossible to bear.

You have never felt this way about anyone, and you didn't want to lose him. You had been together for almost a year now, but you noticed your feelings for him growing every day. So, you thought this weekend was the perfect time to surprise him and actually show that. To be there for him not just mentally, but physically.

You pulled yourself together: you wore a custom Kimoa x Aston Martin shirt that fit your body perfectly. While you didn't have a supermodel figure, you were definitely gorgeous. You had a lot of heads turning in the paddock.  

Your Y/H/C hair glistened in the sunshine, your fingernails painted the typical "Aston Martin green". You counterbalanced the shirt with a black skort that showed off your body perfectly but wasn't too much. To top off everything, you were wearing a sneaker to keep it casual. But the way you wore Fernando's name on your body – front and back, sparkled in his colors, and carried his brand proudly, you were anything but "casual".

As soon as Fernando entered the garage, he noticed you. But he had to look twice just to make sure you were really there because he was not used to seeing you around. Although he made no secret of you, he was very aware of how much you tried to avoid the public. He could understand that you were suffering with your own demons, and he knew exactly how harsh the media could be on F1 drivers and their loved ones.  

But at that moment, he didn't care about anything or anyone. Just you. And all he felt was pride. You were a perfect fit. His perfect fit. And the fact that you were wearing Aston Martin colors, and his brand made his heart beat faster. Suddenly he didn't know what he was feeling.

The way he looked at you took your breath away for a moment. You felt as if all the air had been sucked out of the room (even though it was half in the open air). The fire that flared up in Fernando's eyes was so intense, that you feared he would burn everyone alive. But mostly you.

Your feet rooted to the ground; you gulped as he strode confidently towards you.

"Mi vida," Fernando began, and leaving you no time to think, he pulled you close to him, pressing a passionate kiss to your lips.

In that moment you forgot that other people were standing around you. There were probably a few photos taken of you, but you didn't care. At that moment, it was just the two of you. You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him closer to you to deepen the kiss.

Not only his eyes were fiery, but so was the passion he kissed with. There was almost no space left between the two of you as he pulled you shut to him, his hand holding your waist tightly.

Your tongues brushed against each other to have a taste. You almost moaned out loud at the sensation, and you knew you had to stop now, or you wouldn't be able to contain yourself. This man brought out emotions that you never had before. With him... Well, you were always horny, so to speak.

Your cheeks heated up at the thought of him taking you there and then, so you broke the kiss. You tilted your forehead to his.

"Nando," you said breathlessly. "People are watching."

"I don’t care, mi amor," he replied, his Spanish accent getting heavier, which tends to come out when he's very passionate or angry. You hoped it was the former. "Estoy tan contenta de verte," he murmured into your lips in Spanish. It meant he was very happy to see you. You have spent the last year trying to learn as much of the language as possible, which he of course appreciated. You were of a different nationality as well and English was your common language.

You learned a lot from him in bed. He was quite vocal – to say the least. Calling you pet names and talking through it… Enough, you thought to yourself, snapping out of your trans.

Fernando laughed at your expression and how easy it was to make you riled up just with a simple sentence. It was as if he could see inside your head. It was easy for him to read you. And he enjoyed teasing the hell out of you.

He pulled you closer to him for a hug and pressed a short kiss to your forehead.

"I'm really glad that you're here," he said once again, this time in English, squeezing you gently to mark his words. "And you look beautiful too," You hugged him around the waist, burying your face in his chest and taking in his intoxicating scent. The smell that always kept you going: something leathery and woody. It was very masculine, but somehow still comforting and reassuring. Thanks to Boss. They were doing God's work with this man.

"Here to support the best," you muttered into his shirt. You pulled away from him for a moment to look him in the eye. "I'm your biggest fan, I hope you know that." He loved the way you were looking up at him: the way you were glowing with love and desire. How your lips were swelled up after the kiss, how you stood there in the garage, proud to belong to him.

Alonso was like you. He hasn't felt that way about anyone for a very long time. And although he did everything he could for you, somehow it was very difficult for him to talk about his feelings. And not because he was ashamed of them or because he wasn't sure of himself – he was too sure of what he felt. And it frightened him. He was afraid to open up and might lose you. He was old enough to know what he wanted, and he didn't want to start over again with anyone else. All he wanted was you. In the end, somehow, he was still afraid. You had been together for about a year, but he was afraid to say those particular three words, even though he kept calling you "my love" and its synonyms in Spanish.

And at the moment as he looked at you… He was sure. He was sure he wanted you for the rest of his life and that you weren't his biggest fan, but more like vice versa. And he wanted to prove it to you.

He pulled you into his embrace once more.

"I know, mi amor," he mumbled into your hair and pressed another kiss to the top of your head. "I'll put myself out there, just for you," he added with a gentle chuckle. You squeezed him and then let him go, knowing how much he had to do before the race. You took a few steps back just to take him in, now there was even more determination in his eyes than before. Fernando was almost vibrating with excitement, knowing you were there to cheer and support him. And there was something in his eyes as well that made the butterflies in your stomach revive.

"I…" you wanted to say something, but how his eyes softened with tenderness made you speechless. He slowly reached for your hands, his fingertips gently caressing the soft skin of your palm.

"Can I take some photos of you guys?" suddenly one of the team members of Aston Martin popped between the two of you. He was clearly making some content for the team's social media channel and even though you were nervous, you somehow felt put together and wanted to support Fernando all the way. "You look so good together," he added with a soft smile. You tried to find lies in his eyes, but he seemed sincere. Maybe it's time to really believe that you're GOOD and that you looked great together. Fernando Alonso wasn't with you for nothing.

Fernando looked at you and waited for your approval. You nodded slightly and Alonso immediately pulled you to him by the waist.

"The best girl on the grid," Alonso said loudly and proudly, pushing a soft kiss to your temple. You couldn't help but smile at his affection and you pulled him closer to you as well, while the social media guy snapped a few pics.

After that, he showed you all the pictures. As Fernando looked at you in the photos, all his emotions were clear: his eyes radiated with love and respect. And you were definitely glowing next to him. The guy went on to show you some of the photos, eventually stopped when he had taken the two of you kissing. You indeed looked very good together.

"Sorry, I couldn't help myself," he mumbled to himself. Fernando tensed for a moment next to you, waiting for any protest. But you didn't. You really did look good together and wanted nothing more than to show the two of you to the world.

"It’s okay," you started. "The pictures are really great," you reassured the guy and Fernando next to you loosened up. He pressed another kiss to your temple then took a few steps back.

"I'm sorry, mi amor, but I have to go now," he said. "Enjoy the race," Fernando added with a wink. That damn wink. And that damn smirk. Gosh, that will be the end of you. Pendejo.

You turned back towards the social media guy, and at that moment you realized that because of his interference, you didn't say out loud what you wanted to a few moments ago. You wanted to declare your love to Fernando for the very first time, out loud, but now you missed your chance…

"Can I take a few more of you, especially the shirt and nails?" he asked shyly, snapping you out of your thoughts. "You seem like a truly great soul who supports and respects Alonso, and I want to show that to the world," you were almost touched by his words. You were definitely genuine with Fernando and didn't want to use him for anything. You were just there because you were his greatest fan. And that was the best thing for you.

You nodded softly and you guys managed to make a full-on photoshoot in the end. You were surprised at how liberated you felt at the end, and you even chuckled and did some "model-poses."

"You're a natural," he chuckled but you soon stopped as the race began.

//

The race was very exciting. Full of overtaking and adrenaline. At the end of the race, Alonso managed to score P6, which is a very big word from Aston Martin these days. You couldn't help but be excited all the way through, expressing emotion and knowing you were going to be all over social media, but you didn't care. Because Fernando Alonso won. In your eyes that P6 was P1.

After the race, you ran up to him and hugged him. He still had his mask on, but you pressed a kiss to the plexiglass. Of course, the cameras were clicking around you, but you didn't care. Because you were incredibly happy, and you were glad for Alonso. And at that moment, that was all that mattered. If it didn't bother him that you were in every picture (and it probably didn't, because he'd asked you to come with him to the paddock countless times), why would it have bothered you?

In that moment you realized that even though you never said those three words, it was clear how you felt about each other. Alonso lifted you up as he celebrated.

"Yes, baby," he said then laughed. You loved it when he was so excited. And you couldn't wait to see what the new season would bring him under Newey's aegis.

//

A few hours after the race, you were sitting in your hotel room looking at your phone.

Social media, especially Aston Martin's official Instagram page, was full of you and Fernando. You couldn't stop smiling as you saw the hashtag #couplegoals and the many, many supportive comments from fans. What were you afraid of in the first place?

Sure, there will always be some people who don't like certain things, but the majority of commenters were supportive. At least, most of them. You locked your phone and looked out the window. You were thinking about everything that happened that day and you couldn't help but admire the wonderful view of the old town of Baku. You tried to take in every little detail, but your mind kept wandering back to how truly happy you looked at those pictures. And how you guys looked good together.

You let a soft sight as you snapped back to reality. You were waiting for Alonso and he was always on time. You were more the late type, but now you're well ahead of schedule. You wanted everything to be perfect. Not just for the night but for you as well. After the race, you took a thorough bath, did the typical "girly routine", used lotion, did your hair, your make-up... You wore his favorite perfume that made you both sweet and seductive – just to make sure he loses his mind. Then you put on an Aston Martin green evening dress that perfectly accentuated your figure and hid what you were less than happy with. That's how you were waiting for him as the two of you arranged to have dinner tonight to celebrate his placing. Just the two of you. You took your eyes off the city and slowly stood up and went to the full-length mirror in the corner of your bedroom to examine yourself.

You've smoothed out the non-existent wrinkles on your dress, but you've looked quite nice – even you were satisfied, which is a big thing. You nodded to yourself, just when you heard a knock on your door.

Slowly you walked over and opened it. There stood Alonso, in all his glory. He was wearing a black shirt and a black suit. For some reason, the color combination looked very good on his skin. His stubble was short and thick, the hair was all set. You were instantly struck by the typical "Alonso scent", the leathery, woody, Boss-y fragrance. Gosh, he looked delightful. Your mouth almost watered at the sight.

But as he looked at you, he was the one taken aback. You looked like an angel in that green dress. And he was ready to be your demon in that black attire of his, to lead you into the dark mysteries of the night as his eyes locked with yours. You were like the perfect match for him: black and white, Ying and Yang to each other.

"Y/N," he basically growled, as he stepped closer to you, his accent heavy. He tried crossing the distance between the two of you. The emotions of the whole day were stirring inside him. As he stepped closer, you stepped back. He looked at you as if he were the hunter and you were his prey.

His eyes burned with a fire you'd probably never seen from him before. You were almost afraid that as soon as he got close to you, it would burn. And you weren't sure you didn't want to burn all the way.

As you stepped back, he stepped forward one more step, closing the door behind him.

The back-and-forth game continued until you got to the bed. As soon as your knee hit the thing, a truly devilish smile spread across Fernando's face. His eyes almost darkened, with only one thing in his mind: you. Oh, he wanted to explore every inch of you like he'd never done before.

Suddenly you didn’t know why, maybe because of the intensity of his gaze, you felt very shy. You felt almost naked even though you were fully dressed up. You were almost certain that he saw right through you and he could see your flaws and mistakes. At least, that's how you were with yourself. Because when it always came to "that", it was very hard to switch off and let go.

"Mi amor," he started. "Look at me!" he ordered, and you obeyed. Not that you could argue with that: he stepped closer to you to lift your chin, so you had to look him in the eye. He could read you like an open book. He knew your past, your traumas, your hurts. "I know you've suffered, but I don't want you to hide."

That sentence meant more to you than you knew. The knowledge that he saw you, like really saw you, that you didn't have to hide yourself from him, and that he accepted you as you are, said more than anything. You tried not to get emotional, but you couldn't help it as a single tear rolled out of your eye. Fernando slowly wiped it away with his finger.

His gaze became a touch gentler, his hand slid down your face, down your arm, all the way to your fingers. There he intertwined his with yours and slowly guided you to the mirror.

"What are you doing?" you asked quietly.

"Trust me," he said confidently, as you stood in front of the mirror. The mirror was tilted a little so you could see both of your figures quite well.  "You are the one," he whispered softly to your ear from behind.

You shivered a little, then let go and leaned against his chest. You closed your eyes for a moment, enjoying the way Fernando stroked your arm again, from the bottom all the way up to your neck.

"What do you mean?" you asked softly, leaning your head back to his shoulder.

"As I said, mi amor," the words rolled out of his tongue. "You're the one for me." You opened your eyes and again met that burning look in the mirror as he held your gaze. "I love you, Y/N, just the way you are," he admitted. "Completely and utterly."

The air caught in your throat at the confession. You looked at him with eyes full of emotion, then turned in his arms so that you were face to face with him.

You tried to analyze every little movement of his. Was it true? All the alarm bells went off in your head, but you wanted to believe it. And he seemed sincere. You deserve to be happy too, so it's time to give yourself to it.

 "I love you so much, it almost hurts," you confessed as well. Fernando grabbed the fabric of your dress, it was really hard for him to contain himself. His lips hovered just a few inches above yours.

His chest tightened at the sound of your words, and he could barely restrain himself from taking you at that moment. But he wanted to make sure you felt worshipped and loved – just how you deserved it.

He brushed his lips against yours, looking at your reaction. Your breath hitched in your throat, and he loved the sight of it. He wanted you to see it as well. He wanted you to see how he makes you react. And how he makes you feel good.

He firmly but gently started to turn your hips between his hands. He encouraged you to turn back, so his chest could face your back and you could see yourself in the mirror once again.

"I'm only going to say this once, mi amor," he began, running his hand down your arm again. His voice was firm and dominant. You just loved it when he was like that with you. You knew deep down he was devoted and wanted only good things for you. "Keep your eyes on me," he said in the mirror. "I know it's hard," he added. "But can you do it for me, princess?"

You swallowed hard and nodded.

"Así amor," he murmured into your neck.

He placed a slow kiss on the back of your neck, then moved his hand lower, now on your hip. There he firmly grabbed the dress and almost ripped it off you so that now you were standing in front of the mirror in just your underwear. As he saw the black lace piece, another growl erupted from his throat.

"Mierda," he cussed at the sight of you. You would have preferred to hide. You didn't want to tear yourself away from his gaze, but you didn't want to look at yourself either.

Just like he could read your mind he said: "You're beautiful," sliding his hand from your waist to your stomach, so that he could slowly slip his hand inside your panties. "What did I say, mi amor?" he asked in a dominant voice, suddenly stopping in his movements.

You knew exactly what he meant: you swallowed hard. Once again.

"To look at you," you answered, searching for his eyes again. As your gazes interlaced, he began to move his hands once again.

"Así es," he whispered softly into your neck, then left a hot trail of kisses behind. At the same time, he started to move his fingers skillfully, reaching for the perfect spot: where he could feel your aching desire for him. The need started to pool between your legs larger and larger.

You wanted to close your eyes and lean back to him, to lose fully to the sensation but you knew him just well enough that if you would do that he would stop. He kept eye contact while his fingers were deep inside you. The demon in black, your demon who wanted nothing but to make his angel come undone at his touch and mercy.

"Nando," you whispered, as you looked at the two of you in the mirror.

"Sí, mi amor?" he asked, looking into your eyes while he kept his steady rhythm, collecting your wetness on his fingers, now pressing the end of his palm to your core. You bite down at your lower lips at the sensation, letting out a soft moan. "Use your words, princess," he smirked, knowing how hard it was to concentrate right now. He loved seeing you like this, and you loved the effect you had on him, as you could feel his hardness pressing against your behind. His intense gaze, his body, his touch, and his words almost sent you over the edge. Almost.

Then he suddenly stopped. You let out a frustrated breath and you get a chuckle in return.

"I…" you gasped and then shut up.

"Sí, mi amor?" he asked once again, tilting his head to the side as he was looking at you in the mirror. You desperately craved some friction, you even tried to rub together your thighs, but nothing helped.

"I…" you started once again, and he looked at you with encouraging eyes. "I want to…" your cheeks heated up at your words and you didn't even know why. "I want to cum." you finally managed to blurt out. 

He let out a chuckle, grabbing your hips with one of his hands and he slid back his other under your panties.

"Was it so hard, princessa?" he asked, and he started using his fingers again. This time more passionately and faster. With one hand you grabbed Fernando's forearm while still trying to keep your eyes on him. "That’s it," he told you as he tried to help you finally push over the line. He knew how much you loved him when he talked you through it. "I want you to see how beautiful you are when you come undone for me," he whispered into your ear and that's what it took. You shook in his arms as you finally reached the highest highs, fireworks playing before your eyes and at this point, you couldn't help but close your eyes. Your feelings for him, his voice, his touch – it was just too much. You suddenly stumbled, but he was there to catch you. And he always will be.

"That's it, mi amor," he whispered, holding you close to him, while he pressed soft kisses to your neck as he guided you through your high.

For a few moments, you stayed in silence. Then he spoke: "I'm your biggest fan, I hope you know that," he repeated your words from earlier. Your chest tightened at his confession, and you turned in his embrace, now facing him. A soft and loving smile played on your lips as you pulled yourself closer to him.

“But you’re the one who won, we should celebrate you,” you said mischievously. You started to push him back towards the bed where he sat down, so you could straddle him. Fernando groaned as he felt you move against him. His whole body was becoming hard.

“Oh, we will celebrate, mi vida,” he chuckled darkly. “All. Night. Long.” he said and kissed you with so much passion that it consumed the two of you. Each one was like a promise, a seal, a mark for your happiness and a long, prosperous future together.