#kink incompatibility

[ebbarights]

finally reading the scripts and i know it's not the consensus on here but roman just reads so ace to me

[knucklesex]

i don't think im gonna lose my virginity this year 😔

[aceys]

>.>

[luffington]

cream-filled ♡

➤ summary: Your devoted husband really wants to have a baby with you, so he figures out a solution to your size difference. (18+)

➤ pairing: charlotte katakuri x afab!reader

➤ word count: 2.2k

➤ warnings: extreme size kink, breeding kink, belly bulge, age difference (reader is mid-20s), cumplay, titjob, creative use of mochi, established relationship, fluff, 'wife' for reader

➤ notes: katakuri’s height is biblically accurate and i did very questionable math to figure out his dick size.... this is literally so nasty but silly donut man is definitely a freak <3

NSFW under the break! minors dni thank uuu

Months after your wedding, your husband marched into your shared bedroom, arms crossed and face buried in his scarf, and stated, “Mama wants us to have a baby.”

You furrowed your brows in confusion. If Big Mom really wanted little Katakuris running around, she should’ve considered your physical incompatibility before arranging your marriage. He was practically double your age and triple your height. Plus, the Emperor typically prioritized babies from her weaker children – Oven, Daifuku, and Perospero all remained childless, and her second son’s bounty spoke for itself. She occasionally made lighthearted comments to you about wanting a grandchild, but it sounded more like a fantasy than a demand.

As a thick silence settled between you, Katakuri became increasingly flustered. A lightbulb went off in your head and a knowing smile spread across your face. The tips of his ears turned red as he finally admitted, “Okay, I want a baby.”

Oh, he was precious. “And I would love to have one with you, honey, but I don’t know how. Your dick just can’t fit.”

Everything about Katakuri was enormous, and his cock was no exception. At full hardness, it measured at least eighteen inches – nearly the size of your entire torso. He understandably had a hard time finding sexual partners previously, and poor Katakuri was almost more nervous about showing you his dick than his fangs. Lucky for him, you didn’t scare easily.

As an average-sized human, your body was certainly too small to take it, but your sex life was absolutely thriving. Your husband worshiped every inch of you, and eating your pussy as ferociously as Mama during a hunger pang became as routine as his meriendas. And anything you could do with his cock turned him on – your dedication to pleasing him was enough to make him lightheaded. 

He’d even started training you to take his gigantic length. Katakuri replicated his dick into a mochi dildo with a donut-shaped base, then fucked you slow and deep to let you adjust to its size. The dildos got bigger and bigger, and you had already made some progress in loosening your hole. Neither of you cared if nothing ever came of it – it was intimate, fun, and incredibly sexy. 

“I came up with a solution,” Katakuri muttered shyly. “I… I think you’ll like it.”

“So mysterious,” you giggled, though you expected nothing less from him. Shifting your position to emphasize your skimpy lounge outfit as you spread your legs enticingly. “Alright, get in here.”

Your husband crossed the room with two thundering footsteps, draped his feathery scarf over a chair, then carefully removed his spurred boots. Two intimidating accessories stripped away barely affected his menacing appearance, but to you, it revealed the gentle giant underneath. Katakuri’s knees sunk into the huge mattress yet he still towered over you, a mix of adoration and hunger burning in his dark eyes. 

He easily flipped your positions so you rested on top of his bare chest. Always overly careful with your small frame and wanting to eliminate the risk of harming you, which usually resulted in him underneath you. The man who supposedly never lied on his back cared more about your safety than his outward image of perfection. He adored his pretty wife, his tiny wife. Blood rushed to his dick when he noticed that your toes barely reached his hips in this position.

You cupped his jaw and kissed him passionately, running your fingers through his cropped hair. The taste of sugary strawberry frosting overwhelmed your tastebuds as his broad tongue penetrated your mouth, though he was cautious about keeping his teeth away from your delicate skin. Sensing his hesitation, you broke the kiss to lick along one of his protruding fangs seductively.

“Such a gorgeous little thing,” he murmured reverently before pressing his lips against yours again. “How did I end up with someone as perfect as you?”

“Mama has good taste,” you shrugged with a grin. Katakuri undid his skull-shaped belt buckle and slid out of his tight leather pants, not missing the way you subtly rolled your pelvis against his solid abs. He was incredibly disciplined but he adored your impatience – everything about you was so fucking cute. 

“Jerk me off,” he grumbled against your lips. Straightforward as always, but never intentionally harsh or commanding with you. Katakuri lovingly rubbed the top of your head with his huge hand then brought it down on your ass with a light smack. 

You squealed and gave him one final peck on the lips before stripping, carelessly throwing your clothes onto the floor. Dark eyes admired your naked form as you crawled down his body, playfully tracing the vertical lines of his tattoo, then slid down the elastic waistband of his donut-print underwear. Even at half-hardness, his cock was big enough to split you in two. You straddled his hips and settled your bare core atop his heavy balls.

Katakuri licked his lips at the lewd sight of you wrapping your tiny hands around his dick – your fingertips couldn’t even touch. Spitting on the mushroom head as a meaningless attempt at lubrication, you firmly stroked your palms up and down his massive length. He willed his hips to stay still and let you set the pace, though it was relatively hard to control his animalistic instincts in bed with you. Your tongue darted out to kitten-lick his slit, fingers trailing along his cock’s more prominent veins. 

“That’s it, sweetheart, get me nice and hard. Show me how much you want my cum deep in your womb.” His words went straight to your cunt, and you relieved the ache by grinding down on his testicles. Katakuri cursed under his breath and watched you open your jaw as wide as possible to suckle on the head of his dick. His salty precum had a slight mochi aftertaste – the sticky substance permeated every bit of his body, and the flavor was strangely addicting. 

You noticed your husband eyeing your breasts, their softness squished against his cock and hard nipples massaging the sensitive skin. Even more blood rushed south when he pictured them swollen with delicious milk. He knew he wouldn’t be able to resist sucking them dry as an additional afternoon snack. With a mischievous smirk, you situated his giant length between your tits and pressed them together for good measure. Katakuri’s cock jerked against you, smearing a hefty load of precum on your cheek.

“You like it when I give you a titjob, huh? Do my boobs feel good wrapped around your dick?” He nodded as if he was in a trance. “Dirty old man,” you chuckled, turning his cheeks an adorable shade of red.

Katakuri never admitted this to you, but he sometimes imagined using you as his own little toy. The most fucked up version of it involved using you as a fleshlight, your body stretching like dough around him as he speared his dick inside your tiny cunt. Seeing how deep it could go, then lifting you up his length and trying again. 

However, that was obviously unrealistic, so he usually imagined you exactly as you were now. Warm skin flush against him, dick nestled between your arms and tits as he used your body to jerk himself off. Maybe that did make him a dirty old pervert, but he had a feeling you’d be willing to try it. 

That dirty fantasy, paired with your debauched expression and your hot cunt moving against his balls, almost pushed him into dangerous territory. But no, he needed to save his cum for something much more important. Katakuri grabbed your thighs and flipped your positions again, hovering over you with lust-blown eyes. 

He growled at the sight of your drenched pussy. “This all for me?” His thick thumb parted your folds to collect your slick, then he stuck the digit in his mouth and slurped happily. “Mmm, so sweet, I could get addicted to this.” As if he wasn’t already. “Can I have more?”

You giggled. “You can have whatever you want, Kata. No need to be so nervous.”

“Don’t wanna break you,” he mumbled breathlessly but didn’t give you a chance to respond. He dove between your legs, his impressive tongue easily splitting your cunt apart and making your eyes roll back into your skull. 

“K-Kata… holy fuck.” Your thighs shook around his head as your brain quickly dissolved into mush. “Harder, ahh, please…” 

Your husband eagerly complied, holding your thighs wide open and prodding his wet muscle even deeper inside you. He was already drunk off your juices and your pussy continued to gush around his tongue. When he found the spot that made your back arch off the bed, he licked over it incessantly, pulling away for only a moment to lap at your neglected clit. 

A sharp fang brushed against the delicate flesh of your inner thigh and made you flinch, but you just grabbed his hair and kept him pressed against your cunt. You would gladly take even the harshest teeth marks if it meant he kept eating you out like that. 

Katakuri restrained himself from going any further when he noticed the telltale signs of your orgasm. “Ready?” He asked, his chin completely soaked in your juices. You nodded eagerly despite not knowing what you were consenting to. You trusted your sweet husband to treat you well – and you wanted a baby just as much as he did.

He sat back on his haunches, clutching your thigh in one massive hand and grabbing the base of his cock with the other. Tilting your bottom half slightly upwards until his dick was aligned with your cunt. For a terrifying yet exhilarating moment, you honestly thought he was going to push it inside. 

“Hold yourself open for me.” Oh. That was his plan. You gladly used both hands to spread your pussy lips wide, your fluttering hole completely visible and begging to be filled by him. Katakuri began roughly jerking off, pretty eyes laser-focused on your cunt as he grunted quietly. He pressed the flushed red tip of his cock against your hole, which was already straining from the tiniest bit of pressure.

“Fill me up, honey,” you whimpered with a blissed-out grin. “Prove that you want to be a father.”

Your husband came with a deep moan as if on command, emptying his balls and spraying copious amounts of thick, creamy cum across your skin. Some of it miraculously made it into your spread hole and trickled deep inside your soaked cunt. The rest overflowed onto your thighs and tummy, globs dripping down the crack of your ass and onto the sheets below. 

Without wasting a moment, Katakuri gathered up some stray cum with two fingers and plunged them into your cunt. You nearly screamed from the sudden intrusion – his digits alone were bigger than any of your past partners’ cocks, and so much better. He repeated the perverted process until nearly every drop was shoved inside your pretty pussy. But he didn’t stop there. An obscene squelching noise echoed throughout the room as he scissored around the pool of his hot semen. Your stomach was stuffed so full of cum that it bulged out into a pretty bump.

“So fucking full. Imagine what you’ll look like pregnant – fuck, I’d get to see this every day.” He practically drooled at the visible outline of his fingers thrusting in and out. Your tiny little body worked so hard to accommodate his size and you loved every second of it. “My sweet cream-filled donut, I could eat you right up.”

You wanted to laugh at his endearing ridiculousness – his adorable love of sweets even found its way into dirty talk. But all air was knocked out of your lungs when he prodded at your cervix, literally trying to shove his cum inside the miniscule opening. He lifted you off the bed by your leg even more, willing gravity to assist the semen flowing inside you.

Katakuri continued to finger-fuck you with calculated thrusts, but when his teeth sunk into your thigh – hard enough to break the skin but not enough to bleed – you finally hit your peak. You shrieked loud enough for all of Totto Land to hear, making it known that your seventeen-foot tall husband likely just fucked triplets into you. Your tongue lolled out of your mouth and you almost blacked out, but Katakuri kept you grounded in reality with gentle kisses on your cheeks and forehead, holding your hand and willing your heartbeat to slow down. 

After a few minutes and constant reassurance that you did a great job for him, Katakuri pulled his fingers out and quickly replaced them with a small plug made of mochi. Just to make sure everything stayed inside you (and because he could stare at your stomach bulge for hours).

“Do you think it’ll work?” You panted quietly, eyes fluttering shut with absolute bliss. “Use your Haki. Will I be all swollen with your baby soon?”

“I can’t see that far into the future,” Katakuri smiled, heart overflowing with love for you. “So let’s keep trying until it does.”

[0nlythrowharrybeaux]

I miss brewer harry🤭

Perhaps we're due for a little check-in 👀

Read the full fic "Trying"** if you haven't already

Warnings: fertility concerns (very brief mention), daddy kink, oral sex/throat fuck (m receiving), unprotected sex (p in v), use of sex toys/accessories, edging, anal play, forced orgasms and overstimulation, ruined orgasm, squirting, breeding kink, dirty talk

WC: 3.7k

As much as you two wanted a baby together, Harry was a bit happy that it hadn't happened just yet. The mere act of actively trying for it was bringing you two close in a new way that had him falling for you all over again. He'd thought about you as a mother before but now it was noticeable and tangible. He could picture it so clearly.

"What?" you inquired as a nervous giggle bubbled from you and he chuckled and shrugged.

"Nothing. Just...looking." he said simply and you smiled and continued with securing the ties on your sleeping shorts into a little, messy bow. Your top half was still bare, but he wasn't just looking at your breasts. You noticed how his eyes trailed down to your tummy.

You were a little nervous that you hadn't gotten pregnant yet. You'd been trying for like three months! Harry had gone to the doctor the year prior, before you even talked about trying and he was fine. But you hadn't checked on that yet. You wondered if you should. Maybe you had fertility issues that you didn't know of.

"You're fine, baby." Harry reassured you as he hugged around your midsection. You swore he could read your mind. He then smooched a kiss to your temple. "There's like a very specific window for this and if we miss it, it's not happening." he reminded you and you nodded.

"Right..." you responded as you interlocked your fingers with his.

"It'll happen. Besides, if it happens now we're having Taurus baby. Famously incompatible with Aquarians." he reasoned and you chortled.

"That shouldn't be a problem unless you're planning to be romantically linked to our child." you said and he scoffed.

"Jesus..." he scowled, "S'not just in that context." he said as he squeezed your fingers with his and you giggled.

"I know. Just being an asshole." you confessed.

"You know, the other day, when you were chopping up a papya for me?" he inquired and you nodded. "It just hit me how much love is inside of you. And how that would make you such a great mother. Like I know you hate chopping fruits, particularly that one." he said and you hummed in agreement.

"Smells like puke." you mumbled, "You're nasty for eating it as much as you do." you grimaced and he laughed.

"Alright, we can agree to disagree." he said, "But you know, you still did. I didn't even have to ask you to. You just knew." he said and you smiled, "You have an instinct to nurture and dote on and it's so fucking beautiful." he said before kissing your cheek. "When it happens, you're gonna be so good at it." he reassured you.

You pried his hands off of you and twirled around. You got on your tiptoes and kissed him deeply. He was slightly taken aback but quickly wrapped his arms around you and gave you a nice bear hug as your mouths moved together in perfect harmony. Your hands slithered up his nice, firm biceps. Then, those broad shoulders of his. Then up his neck and finally you were holding his face. He started to accelerate the speed of the kiss and your lips twitched up in a grin.

"Easy, daddy." you whispered and he smiled.

"Sorry, baby." he murmured with the most pussy-clenching rasp. "You get me really excited."

With your bare chest pressed against his, he could feel your nipples hardening as you got aroused from your steamy kiss. Your tongue darted out over his bottom lip before he opened up and let you slip it into his. He moaned as your slow and searing kiss grew more and more lewd by the second. Harry's arms released you and instead his hands gripped your hips before letting them slide back towards your ass.

"Yeah, daddy....you're getting so big and hard for me." you praised quietly. Your right hand slid down his brawny chest and chiseled abs and finally reached over that growing bulge in his boxer briefs. You palmed over his bulge a few times before reaching between his legs to fondle his balls too. You could feel it twitch as it came alive. He moaned as you slid your hand inside and guided his half-hard cock upward. "I like it when your tip comes out the top of your briefs. You're so fucking big." you mumbled happily and he smiled before kissing you deeply again.

Just moments later Harry's cock was at full mast. He was dying from your index finger just barely grazing over his tip every now and again. It was starting to make his pre-come bead at his tip.

"Fuck, get on your knees f'me." he ordered and you grinned before pulling away. Harry slipped out of his boxer-briefs before sitting on the edge of the bed with spread legs, his thick erection standing straight up. You loved it when he was so hard that it twitched and stood higher. Your mouth watered at the sight of him so you just went after him without another moment to lose. "Oh shit, baby...." he groaned as he watched your cheeks hollowing out as you sucked his tip, drawing the pre-come up and out of him so that you could get a taste of him. "Shit..." he moaned lowly as he brought his right hand up to your head and wove his fingers into your hair.

"Take more." he said as he gently pushed you down and you relaxed your jaw to get him in deeper. When he was in the back of your mouth you started to stroke what didn't fit as you bobbed your head up and down his cock. His cock was so slippery with your drool and his own arousal. You gagged when he pushed you down a little more, "Shhh...just a little more." he appeased you, it almost felt patronizing. "Relax, baby." he reminded you and you breathed in through your nose and relaxed your throat so that he could get deeper. And boy did he...you were stuffed.

"Fuck yeah. Good girl." he praised you as he started to gently thrust up into your mouth and down your throat. He took a slow pace so that you could properly breathe between each one. You could feel yourself getting all sticky between your legs as your slick started to pool into the crotch of your shorts.

You loved it when he fucked your mouth. You loved the flavor of him on your tongue and the scent of his skin. The weight of his big, fat cock in your mouth...it did ungodly things to you. The vibrations from your muffled moans tickled down his cock causing him to sink in a little deeper. Your eyes were brimming with the tears collected in them from him triggered your gag reflex with each thrust. After a few more they inevitably spilled down your cheeks as you choked around him and tapped his thigh and he pulled you up by the hair.

"You're alright, baby. Breathe." he cooed as you started coughing a bit. He smiled down at you as you took a nice deep inhale. "Alright?"

"Yeah." you assured him with a pleased smile. "Need you." you said softly as you glanced up at him with those pretty, glassy eyes.

"Alright, baby." he smiled and helped you up and out of your shorts before you climbed onto the bed, "How do you want it?"

"From behind." you said and he smiled.

"Mmmm...s'gonna get so deep." he said with a delighted smirk and you nodded.

"Yeah. That's what I want. I wanna feel it tomorrow and the next day too." you said as his lips hovered over yours. Your foot ran up his calf quickly before you tangled your leg with his.

"Yeah, baby? Do you need daddy to pound the horny out of you?" he asked and you nodded.

"Please, daddy." you implored, your desperate gaze met his. He smirked and quickly flipped you over onto your tummy.

His big, warm hands ran up your thighs and gripped your butt before he landed a sharp smack against you. You gasped at the unexpected sting and then you felt his lips smooch down where he spanked you. And then he did it to the other side and your fingers dug into the bed covers to get through the stinging sensation. Your grip loosened when it started to subside.

"You're dripping for me." he hummed and you bit your lip as his fingers tickled over your labia for a moment. "M'gonna get the wedge pillow. " he said and you smiled.

"Yes, please." you hummed and felt him get off the bed. After a few moments you heard him return.

"Hips up for me, baby." he instructed softly and you wiggled around until you were able to arch up high enough for him to slide the wedge right beneath your hips. He already reached part of your g-spot in general, but when he was fucking you from the back and you were angled this way with the cushion, he reached it perfectly. He didn't even warn you before he pushed into you forcefully making you choke on a moan as he squeezed your hips.

"So fucking tight..." he mumbled as he held still to let you adjust for a moment. You felt so fucking full. You swore that he was in your tummy.

"Move! Please, move." you begged and groaned as he slightly drew his hips back and then thrust back in before grinding into you. "Fuck daddy, right there!" you gasped as his tip collided right against your spot. With each grind of his hips you felt a tingle zap through your entire body. Harry then pulled out and sunk in again to deliver a toe-curling thrust. The sounds that left you were obscene. Suddenly you heard a soft buzz and moaned. "Baby..."

"Grabbed your Pebble too." he said and you shook your head.

"You're gonna fuck me up." you mumbled and he smirked.

"Good. Lift a little and get it on your clit." he instructed. You did as he requested, the ergonomic shape of the pillow and toy you were using allowed for the toy to fit perfectly over your clit. The thing about this toy was that it was a sucking toy, the incessant slurping against your clit always pulled orgasms from you with an unbelievable ease. It drove you crazy every single time, you'd always end up squirting and were left a trembling mess. "I know s'hard with this toy but I want you to put off your orgasm as much as possible, okay? I can feel it if you come without permission." he reminded and you bit your lip but nodded.

"Yes, daddy." you responded as you got the toy into the best position and you tensed up as your clit got sucked into the opening.

Harry smirked as he saw your body tense from behind and your hot little muscle squeezed around his cock with the added stimulation. He retreated almost to the tip before mercilessly plunging back into you over and over again as you whined and whimpered for him to keep fucking you. He loved how your fists would clench the bed sheets hard as your walls started to throb in perfect time with his heart beat. It helped him keep his pace until you started to just squeeze, your legs started to stiffen up a bit and he smirked.

"What did I say?" he asked as he stilled inside of you and your body relaxed for a moment before your hips jolted a bit when more of your weight rested on the toy again, causing your clit to feel the sucking even more intensely.

"Sorry, y'just feel so good." you mumbled and he smiled.

"You feel good too, baby. So warm and wet f'me. You've got the most welcoming little pussy." he hummed as he kneaded your ass and then sightly pulled your cheeks apart to get a better look at your other little hole. He had tried to open you up there before but your nerves always got the best of you and you could never get past the second plug. He let a little wad of spit trickle down over it and he lived for the way you whined when he rubbed his thumb against it.

"Gonna let me get in there?" he asked and you chuckled, "Obviously not today, another time. For now s'just gonna be my thumb." he warned as he pressed against the tight muscle just a bit, "Relax, love. Just relax." he encouraged you and continue grinding his cock into you while he pushed his thumb into your bum until he had it in all the way and you whimpered at the full feeling. You were absolutely stuffed. Your toes were curled and your fists clenched as he played with both of your holes. "As much as you say you don't like it...your body says otherwise. You're absolutely drenching my cock." he chuckled, "You're such a little slut for me." he hummed as he thrust in hard and you whimpered, "Let me use you how I see fit." he spoke so deeply that it made you even wetter, "Want me to put a baby in you..." he mused and you moaned as he started to grind against you, getting that spot with every gyration of his hips. That, added with his thumb inside of you and then the fucking sucking toy on your clit, it was getting to be way too much.

"I-I'm gonna come!" you warned him and he chuckled and pulled out of you quickly leaving you completely empty. He saw your body relax and he just squeezed your hip reassuringly.

"That's good, just relax a bit. Let it pass." he encouraged you and you were truly trying your best but your stomach was still tensed tight despite your limbs having relaxed a bit as the peak of your pleasure started to fizzle out.

"Please...it's too much." you pleaded.

"You can take it." he assured you. You knew very well that you could take it but you liked to get whiny because he always babied you just a bit but still had his way with you. You just loved the extra attention he gave you to get you to comply with whatever things he wanted to do with you. He lined himself back up to your drippy opening and eased back in and you sighed in relief. He felt your warm, velvety walls start to flutter when he bottomed out against your g-spot again before he started to hump against you. His tip was prodding and rubbing into that deliciously sensitive spot inside of you as he rolled his hips into you from behind. You were trying not to drool from how good it felt. Your skin was covered in goosebumps as you tried your hardest to stave your orgasm off. "Good girl, you can do it, my love." he assured you with a light chuckle as he felt you trying to not let his movements push you over the edge.

"I can't...I can't..." you cried pathetically. The stimulation to your clit was just about to have you coming undone at any moment. You were trying your hardest not to think about it, "Please, daddy! Please let me come!" you implored. Even if he didn't give you permission you were going to come regardless. He chuckled as your walls fluttered around his girth erratically. "I need to come, please!"

"Go one then." he hummed patronizingly and just like that, the feelings peaked and you started to shiver. All of the wonderful tingling sensations and butterflies started swarming out from your tummy and through your limbs. But suddenly, Harry pulled out of you and while your orgasm continued due to the toy, the best parts of it that came from his cock fucking into you started to fizzle.

"Harry..." you whined as your hips twitched a bit. You felt him kiss the small of your back before he smiled against you.

"A little punishment for being impatient." he said and you felt so annoyed at him.

"You're being mean." you huffed.

"Am I, baby?" he asked and you nodded. "M'sorry. I'm gonna make you come really hard, I promise. Wanted to make you squirt, but you're just a little needier than usual today." he said.

"I'm ovulating." you mumbled and he paused for a few seconds.

"Oh..." he finally exclaimed and you hummed, "I didn't know that." he said.

"Took a test before you got home." you informed him. "S'why I was feeling a little nervous. Because if we...do it tonight and I don't get pregnant then...something might be wrong. With me." you explained quietly. A solemn feeling settled between the two of you and Harry swallowed thickly as he grabbed your hip gently and pulled the pillow from beneath you.

"Baby." He said softly and you reached beneath your body to pull the toy away from you and he grabbed it and turned it off. "Hey, hey, hey...look at me, my love." he hummed and you sighed as you rolled over and he hovered above you and kissed your cheeks. "I love you." he said with a smile, "No matter what, we're gonna be fine." he assured you.

"Promise?"

"Promise." he smiled and you smiled slightly. "Now, can I make you come?"

"For real this time?"

"Yeah, baby. For real." he chuckled.

You opened your legs for him and he slid back inside of you. You hummed in delight as he bottomed out inside of you. Your nails dug into his back and scratched down hard in response to the force of his thrust. He was effectively rearranging your guts, completely stealing your breath away.

"Get your clit for me, love." he said and instead of reaching between your bodies, you grabbed the toy and he smiled as you got it back on and slid it back between your bodies. You gasped as your clit got sucked into the opening and then Harry started to speed up his thrusts. His eyes met yours and he smiled. "This is the one, baby. Gonna knock you up." he hummed, "Fuck, you're gonna be so gorgeous with our baby making your tummy grow." he said and your eyes squeezed shut, "Nuh-uh, look at me. Look at me while I breed your needy little pussy, baby. You want it so bad, don't you?"

"Yes, daddy! Please, give me a baby!" you whispered as your tummy started to feel warm with the pleasure swirling deep inside of you. It was starting to spread throughout your entire body.

"I will, my love. I'm gonna come so deep in your pussy, there'll be no choice but for it to catch." he said and you looked at him with an impatient expression in your eyes. "Oh fuck, your little cunt is so good!" he panted.

You felt like you were on fire, your body was growing tense, the feelings of your desire, lust, love, and pleasure were blossoming to unmanageable amounts. They were going to burst from you. You could feel it literally swelling inside of you, a pressure that was familiar and made for the best orgasms.

"I'm gonna come!" you gasped and he groaned.

"Yeah baby, come for me. Make a mess all over my big, fat cock." he grunted as he pounded into you until the most lewd moan broke from your throat and then moments later he felt the first gush of you squirting against him. His lips turned up in a smile and your eyes fluttered closed as you also smiled wide in relief.

"Fuck! Thank you, daddy!" you panted, "Thank you! Thank you! Thank you! But please, come inside me. Please fill me up!" you mewled.

He lowered himself further as his thrusts grew harder, he was fucking more cum out of you. You couldn't help the shrieks that escaped you as his hips pummeled into yours until you were squirting again from the endless stimulation. Your legs were shaking and your nails digging into his ass as you held him as close as possible.

"Fuck...here it comes, baby. Gonna give you so much cum." he groaned as he started to grind into you before he froze and started to cum. His hot, creamy load erupted from his twitching tip that was buried deep inside of you. He moaned so fucking pretty, it made you dizzy.

"Fuck daddy, I can feel it filling me up...." you smiled happily as he completely stopped and smiled down at you before dipping down and kissing you deeply.

Your lips met his eagerly and tenderly as your bodies started to come down from those incredible highs. He wasn't growing soft all that fast, so he carefully turned you onto your sides so that he could stay inside of you as you kissed each other languidly. Honestly, it had been a while since you had actually made out with your husband and it was nice. He was holding your thigh to keep your leg draped over his hip and he was rubbing up and down it. Your hand was perched over his firm pectoral. You loved his brawny chest so much. Slowly, your kiss started to simmer down and soon he was pecking all over your face as you giggled quietly.

"I love you so much, baby." he hummed quietly.

"Love you too." you whispered happily. "I'm sure this one was it."

"Think so?" he asked quietly and you nodded.

"I do." you confirmed happily, "We'll see in a few weeks." you shrugged and he smiled and kissed your lips quickly.

"Oh you'll be seeing something in a few weeks... a positive test." he assured you.

He was so optimistic, you could see it in his eyes and in turn that made you feel optimistic about your chances to get pregnant this time. You both wanted it so badly that there was no way it wouldn't happen. You giggled and kissed him again.

"Then we'll need to do as much as we can to ensure that happens. You're in for a long night, Mr. Styles." you smirked.

[hauntedhowlett-writes]

i can see you (miguel o'hara's version)

pairing: professor/mentor!miguel o’hara x graduate assistant!female reader

rating: explicit (18+ MDNI)

word count: 4.5k

summary:

As Dr. Miguel O’Hara’s graduate teaching and research assistant, you’ve spent years pushing down the inappropriate thoughts you’ve had about the brilliant, gorgeous man.

But what happens when a late night at the lab and a scientific breakthrough leads to a breakthrough of a different kind?

author's note:

my first (but probably not my last) miguel o'hara fic based on taylor swift's song "i can see you" from speak now tv. if you enjoyed this, please consider reblogging or commenting and letting me know your thoughts!

content warnings/tags:

explicit sexual content (18+ MDNI), explicit language, no use of y/n, alternate universe - no powers, age gap (undefined), presence of power dynamics (teacher/student), author took scientific liberties (forgive her, its been 10 years since bio II lab), pineapple on pizza, potentially bad spanish translations, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, vaginal fingering, oral (f receiving), miguel picking reader up, unprotected p in v, size kink, choking, pet names, praise kink, competency kink, dirty talk. let me know if i've missed anything!

Translations you may need:

Universidad Estatal de Nueva York - State University of New York

Sí - Yes

Dios mío - My god

El Origen de la Genética Mutante - The Origen of Mutant Genetics

Mierda - Shit

Te lo prometo - I promise you

Lo juro por Dios - I swear to god

Arañita - little spider

Cállate - be quiet

Mirame - look at me

te sientes tan bien - you feel so good

Perfecto - perfect

________

You’re sitting in the front row, in the seat you’ve claimed as your spot, watching Dr. O’Hara pace in front of the projector screen that displays today’s lesson notes. 

“And what is the hallmark of this mutant gene that demonstrates its incompatibility for transmutation?” He asks the silent room of undergraduates that have found themselves on the roster for his Mutation Genomics III course at Universidad Estatal de Nueva York. 

A few hands go up around the room and Dr. O’Hara points to a student in the back who says, “Uh, it’s got a spiked protein arrangement that can’t be modified?”

“Is that a question or an answer?” Dr. O’Hara asks. There’s a sprinkle of laughter in the room and a smirk tilts his lips briefly. 

“An answer,” the student says more confidently. Dr. O’Hara nods.

“Correct, but that’s not the whole picture,” he says. His eyes catch yours and he gestures for you to join him. Your eyes go wide as you stand and walk to his side at the front of the class. “I’m sure some of you that actually use your available resources to pass my class recognize my teaching assistant. And if you don’t, I recommend visiting her office hours during this section because this is her area of research.”

Your cheeks feel warm as everyone’s attention falls to you. Dr. O’Hara hands you the data pad and steps back, giving you an encouraging nod. You tap the screen, bringing the diagram up on the holo projector and making it larger.

“You’re correct that the spiked protein arrangement can’t be modified, but there’s something more limiting in this particular model. If you look at it from this angle—,” you spin the DNA diagram, “you’ll see something else hindering the modification process. What do you see?”

Hands go up. Dr. O’Hara points to another student who says, “There’s a gap jump. The spike protein would continue to travel across the gap jump and avoid any inserts.”

“Exactly. So, what’s the potential alternative?” 

“Fill the gap. Target the spike protein in your modification cycle,” Dr. O’Hara finishes. “That’s all for today. Your exam next Wednesday will include this presentation, so don’t act surprised when you see the questions.”

A few students stop to speak with Dr. O’Hara as you gather your bag from your desk. His low voice calls your name, the timbre of it sending a shiver down your spine as you step up to his desk.

“You’re running a sequence right now, sí?” He asks, shuffling a stack of papers into order. 

“Yes, it should finish around seven tonight. Sorry, I know that it's late for a Friday,” you reply. He waves a hand dismissively.

“I’ll see you in the lab.” His brown eyes flick to yours and your stomach swoops, heart skipping a beat, same as it always does when he looks at you. 

Dr. Miguel O’Hara makes you nervous. Not only because he’s one of the most notable researchers in the field of mutant genomics, but also because he’s so handsome he leaves you breathless. He’s tall, towering over most men you’ve met, with broad shoulders and a tapered waist that are always covered by a suit and tie in the classroom or a lab coat in the research lab. His tan skin is complemented by dark hair and brown eyes that make you lose your train of thought when you stare into them for too long.

Which…is exactly what you’re doing now.

You clear your throat, stepping back from his desk. Had you been leaning closer? Christ, you hope not. You give him a brief smile before responding, “Yeah, see you tonight. Thank you, Dr. O’Hara!”

“How many times do I have to tell you to call me Miguel?” He calls after you. 

“Maybe when I’ve cracked the sequence!”

________

Miguel watches your hips sway in the jeans you wore to class today, the denim hugging your curves so well he has to bite back a groan. The door to the lecture hall slams shut behind you and he sighs, rubbing a hand over his jaw in frustration.

You drive him crazy. Every class period you’re sitting in the front row, watching him as you tap your pen to your lips or leaning over your desk just enough to give him a glimpse down your blouse or dress. Or you’re in the lab, delicately handling samples and extractions with a level of competency beyond your years, your lip caught between your teeth as you analyze a sequencing output. 

He looks forward to and dreads your impending graduation in equal measure, being free from the constant temptation but losing the greatest researcher he’s met in years. 

Miguel finishes gathering his belongings as the door opens and the next lecturer comes in, nodding at him in greeting. As he steps out into the warm Nueva York air, he has a weird sense that something big is coming. 

He just doesn’t know what.

________

Miguel is waiting for you outside of his double locked research lab that evening, suit jacket hung over his arm and the sleeves of his dress shirt rolled up to reveal tan forearms dusted with dark hair. Your brain nearly short circuits at the sight, conjuring up images of those arms wrapped around your—

No, you think. He’s your mentor. Your handsome, intelligent, and very serious mentor. 

He looks up as you approach, corners of his lips tilting the slightest bit. Or maybe it’s a trick of the light, you can’t be sure, but he presses his palm to the biometric lock and the heavy metal doors slide open. He steps inside ahead of you, putting his face in the frame of the security camera. A red laser scans his face and a light above the second locked door goes from red to green, the click of the lock disengaging echoing in the anteroom. 

You follow him through the door and into his research lab. The fluorescent lights glimmer off the chrome equipment and pristine bench surfaces. A machine whirs, running the sequence analysis you’ve been waiting on. 

“LYLA, what’s the status?” Dr. O’Hara says as he sets his belongings on the desk in the corner.

“Sequence will complete on schedule. Also, your specimen delivery is available in the ultra low freezer,” Dr. O’Hara’s AI assistant, LYLA, announces, feminine voice carrying through the room. 

“I have a surprise for you,” Dr. O’Hara says, tugging on his lab coat as he walks towards the ultra low freezer. 

“A surprise?” You ask, setting your stuff down at the assistant’s work space. 

There’s the beep of a passcode being entered and the heavy freezer door being opened and shut. He’s holding a tray of cryovials, the contents varying in color. He sets the tray on a bench top near your desk and pulls one out, holding it up to the light.

“Isolated arachnoid mutagen,” he says. Your mouth drops open in shock. You rush forward, pressing in close to stare up at the vial with him. 

“You’re kidding,” you whisper. He hands the vial to you, fingers brushing yours. You hold it between your thumb and index finger to inspect the suspension, red in color with tiny flecks of black. “Dr. O’Hara, this is insane. How did you even get this?”

“A guy owed me a favor,” he says. You glance up at his face and you’re suddenly very aware of how close your bodies are. One deep breath and your chest would probably graze his, and did you just imagine his eyes dropping to your lips? 

“That’s one hell of a favor,” you murmur, stepping back. “You want me to work on the extraction?”

“If you don’t mind.”

“You say that like I’m not your research assistant. You can tell me to do anything.” Dr. O’Hara’s eyes go wide and you cough. “I mean, you know, lab related. Research stuff. Yeah. I’ll get started on this. LYLA? Power up the centrifuge and thermocycler, please.”

“Centrifuge is online. Thermocycler will reach optimal processing temperature in t-minus five minutes,” LYLA replies.

You set up all the necessary supplies and prepare the sample for the thermocycler, going through the motions that are now part of your muscle memory - extract, vortex, centrifuge, extract, wash, set in ice. You set your tray of samples into the thermocycler and remove your gloves to hit the start button.

________

Miguel watches you run the PCR test, fixated on the confidence with which you complete each step and your words from earlier continue to echo in his head.

“You can tell me to do anything.”

Dios mío, he thinks. He pinches the bridge of his nose, squeezing his eyes shut as he tries to will away the possibilities that anything could entail. 

“Sequence results are available. Would you like to review now?” LYLA asks. 

“Display,” Miguel says. You spin on your stool to view the hologram of the spliced DNA you prepared. He notices an issue immediately.

“Fuck,” you hiss, stepping up to the control screen and spinning the model. “There’s a deletion.”

“You knew there was a risk of that.” 

You zoom in on the model DNA strand, a broken gap shown in the mutation. “I know there was a risk, but it should have worked.”

Miguel crosses his arms and watches as you bring up the transillumination image of the DNA you had attempted to merge with a human sample. “You wanted it to work. Science is finite. There is no room for should.”

You glance at him. You look like you’re about to say something when the thermocycler beeps and he’s left to wonder what you would have said as you busy yourself with removing your tray of DNA samples. He leans against the bench as you assemble the agarose gel for electrophoresis. 

“Tell me, why do you think there was a deletion?” He asks. 

“The mutagen was incompatible with the human strand,” you murmur, adding dye to your vials. “Just the same as it has been the last dozen times.”

You’ve loaded the wells of the gel with your sample and set it in the tank, closing the lid and turning on the power supply. Miguel takes the remaining tray of arachnid samples to the freezer while your procedure runs. He understands your frustration, he’s run his fair share of failed experiments after all.

After about an hour, the hum of the electrical current from the electrophoresis tank shuts off. Miguel, who had been reviewing a journal submission for El Origen de la Genética Mutante, joins you at the bench as you remove your gel and set it on the UV transilluminator.

“LYLA, scan and project,” you ask the AI assistant. Miguel stands behind you, looking at the DNA bands you’ve generated. He’s momentarily distracted by the fact that he’s so close he can smell the sweet scent of your perfume, something citrusy that reminds him of summer.

You jump suddenly, back colliding with his chest. His hands come up to grip your waist, steadying you as you turn to face him, face lit up in the brightest grin.

“Miguel, look. This arachnid mutagen. It’s a potential match for insertion!” You say excitedly. “It has the same length as the deletion seen with the scorpion mutagen.”

“LYLA, show the current projection against the scorpion scan,” he says. The two images appear side by side and it’s clear that the band of arachnid mutagen fits definitively in a space that appears void in the scorpion samples. “Mierda.”

“You see it, right?” You ask. It’s then that Miguel realizes he’s still got his hands on your waist. He flexes his fingers experimentally, watching as your eyes go the slightest bit darker at the pressure.

“I can see it,” he murmurs. He wants so desperately to lean in closer, to back your body up until you’re pressed between the wall and his body, nowhere to go as his lips explore yours.

But he doesn’t. He drops his hands and puts much needed space between your bodies. He clears his throat.

“Prepare a combined sample,” Miguel says. You blink, checking your watch.

“It’s almost nine. Running a new combined sample would mean we’re here until close to midnight.”

“I’m familiar with how time passes, sí.”

“Are you sure you want—“

Miguel sighs, placing his hands on his hips. “You’re on the verge of one of the greatest scientific discoveries in the last decade. Do you think I give a shit about having to stay late? What kind of mentor would I be if I told you, ‘Oh just wait until Monday to change the scientific world’?”

“One with a work-life balance, probably,” you reply with a giggle. Miguel raises his eyebrows at you. “Okay, okay, combined sample. I’m on it.”

As you rush around the lab, it hits him that you called him Miguel. Not Dr. O’Hara. He’s not sure what that means but he’s certain he wants to hear his name from your lips again.

_______

Dr. O’Hara orders food while your new combined sequence runs, begrudgingly agreeing to a half pineapple and half sausage pizza to split. You’re sitting outside of the lab in the empty hallway, pizza box between you as you eat the slices over grease stained napkins. 

“What are your plans for after graduation?” Dr. O’Hara asks. You shrug.

“Probably get my doctorate. No one takes you seriously in this field without one.”

He frowns. “You’re on the cusp of a major breakthrough, one that could change our understanding of genetic modifications and mutants as we know it.”

“Yeah, and it’s coming from your lab. You’ll get listed as the first author, that’s how this goes.” You pick at your pizza crust, tearing the bread into tiny pieces that you sweep back into the box. 

“I won’t let that happen. If this works, you’ll be the first name on that paper,” Dr. O’Hara says vehemently. “Te lo prometo.”

You smile, caught in his gaze for a brief moment before an alarm rings from his watch. LYLA announces, “Sequencing complete.”

Dr. O’Hara stands, holding a hand out to you. You grasp his broad palm and he pulls you up with ease, the force of it making you stumble slightly. You press a hand to his chest to steady yourself, marveling at how solid he feels beneath your palm. 

“Sorry. Slipped,” you murmur.

He doesn’t say anything, just stares at you with a crease between his brow and storms in his eyes. His watch beeps again and he releases your hand to silence it, the spell broken between you. 

He unlocks the lab doors and you join him at the holoprojector, taking a deep breath. Dr. O’Hara brings up the sequence analysis, the hologram coming to life in the space between you. Your eyes scan the model, checking for gaps, deletions, frayed nucleotides, anything that could mean your procedure didn’t work.

You turn the projection this way and that, looking at it from every angle. You scan the result output reading, eyes jumping to the green SEQUENCING SUCCESSFUL text at the bottom. 

You turn to face Dr. O’Hara, eyes wide with surprise. “It worked.”

“It did,” he replies. 

“It worked,” you say again. You’re bouncing on the balls of your feet, your grin so wide it hurts your cheeks as you rush forward shouting, “It worked!”

Dr. O’Hara’s arms open to catch you, wrapping around your waist as he lifts you from the ground and spins you. He’s smiling, a rare sight for such a serious man, and it makes your heart pound in your chest as you stare up into his face.

“Dr. O’Hara?” You ask as he sets you down, his arms still wrapped tight around your back. “What—“

His lips collide with yours, stealing your breath from your lungs and your words from your brain as you melt against his broad body. The kiss is anything but gentle, with Miguel acting like a man starved as his tongue sweeps into your mouth.

“Dr. O’Hara—“

“Lo juro por Dios, if you call me that one more time,” he growls, lips trailing down your neck with wet kisses, “Miguel. Say it.”

“M-Miguel,” you whimper. He smiles against your neck before sinking his teeth against your pulse point, making you gasp. 

“That’s right,” he says, lifting his head. His brown eyes have gone dark and he’s smirking as his hands find the hem of your blouse, fingertips ghosting across the skin of your abdomen and dipping beneath the waist of your jeans. “Tell me what you want, arañita.”

Rather than trust your voice, you bring your own hands to his shirt collar, working at the buttons of his dress shirt as he opens the fly of your pants. He slips his hand lower just as you reach the last button of his shirt, revealing the tight white t-shirt that outlines his impressive chest.

His fingers rub you over your panties and you feel your knees buckle at the delicious friction. Miguel chuckles, removing his hand to grip the backs of your thighs and lift you against him, your legs wrapping around his trim waist and your hands holding onto his shoulders. He sets you down by his desk, reaching around you to sweep the surface clean, pens and paper falling to the floor.

“In a rush are we?” You say with a laugh. Miguel raises an eyebrow at you.

“Cállate.” He kneels before you, lifting each foot to remove your shoes before turning you to face the desk with his hands on your hips. He grasps the waist of your jeans and shimmies the material down over your hips. When they’re pooled around your ankles, his warm palms grip each ass cheek roughly, spreading you open. “This pussy is even prettier than I imagined,” he groans.

“You think about my pussy a lot, Dr. O’Hara?” You ask innocently. A palm lands a smack to your ass cheek, heat blooming across your skin as you gasp.

“Don’t play dumb, baby, I know you’ve thought about this just as much. You think I can’t see it. Trust me, I can see you watching me in class with those pretty little lips wrapped around your pen, wishing it was something else. Isn’t that right?”

You gasp as he runs his thick fingers through your soaked folds, reaching forward only enough to graze your clit without giving it the attention you desperately want. He leans himself over you, his chest pressed to your back and his lips grazing your ear as he says, “Answer me.”

“Yes, yes,” you pant, the confession earning you that delicious friction, his fingers drawing messy circles around the sensitive nub. He withdraws too soon for your liking, a whine falling from your lips that he shushes, his warm breath on your pussy. You turn your head to look over your shoulder, surprised to find him on his knees.

As you watch, he spreads your cheeks once more before leaning in, licking from your clit to your entrance with a rough groan. Your head drops down, hitting the surface of the desk with a thump as he eats you out like a man who’s found water in a desert. The sounds echoing in the lab are downright indecent, deep groans of appreciation against your cunt and desperate whines from your lips.

“Miguel,” you moan, unable to keep your hips still as his tongue drives you closer to the cliff’s edge of release. “Miguel, I’m gonna cum!”

The man only grips your hips harder, fingers digging deep as he holds you still and doubles his efforts. The thread you’re hanging on by snaps, sending you falling into ecstasy as your muscles go tight and your breath leaves you in a shout of his name as you unravel. 

He pulls away only long enough to stand and turn you to face him, lifting you so that you’re sitting on the edge of the desk, legs spread by his body. He wastes no time slipping two thick fingers inside of your still fluttering cunt, his grin sharp as he sets a pace that has you trying to wiggle away to escape the overstimulation.

“Ah, Miguel!” You yelp, trying to shut your legs. His free hand shoves one thigh wide, pressing it to the desk. “What–”

“Cum for me again, I need to see your face this time,” he demands. He curls his fingers, pressing against your front wall with each drag of his hand from your body. 

“I can’t!”

“What was it you said to me earlier? I can tell you to do anything?” He curls his fingers harder, focusing his efforts on a spot that has you squirming, desperate to get away and to cum in equal measure. “I’m telling you to cum again, arañita, so be a good girl and do as I say.”

Your orgasm crashes over you in a wave, the tightness in your abdomen unraveling as you clench around his fingers. His movements slow as you try to catch your breath until he’s withdrawing, leaving you feeling disparagingly empty.

“Mirame,” Miguel says. You lift your head, pushing yourself up on your elbows and watching as he unbuckles his belt. “You made a mess, baby.”

You feel your cheeks heat with embarrassment as you notice the wet stains on the front of his gray slacks. The feeling is short lived, however, as Miguel unbuttons his pants and pushes them down his thighs along with his boxers, kicking them to the side as he reaches behind his head and pulls his t-shirt off. You’re blown away by how stunning he is, broad shoulders and chest that lead to sculpted abs and a defined adonis belt that draws your eyes to his thick and intimidatingly long cock.

“There’s no way that’s going to fit,” you tell him nervously.

“Why don’t we test that hypothesis?” He asks, taking himself in hand. You blink at him.

“Did…did you just make a joke?” Laughter bubbles up your chest until it’s spilling into the room, your shoulders shaking with the force of it. Miguel takes himself in hand, notching the broad head of his length to your dripping entrance and sliding inside the barest amount, just the tip, but it has your laughter morphing into gasps.

“Mierda,” he murmurs, gaze fixed where your bodies connect. “So fucking tight, arañita.”

You feel like he’s splitting you apart, the stretch deep and all consuming as he fits himself inside of you, drawing back after each inch and slowly thrusting back in and giving you more of his cock in the process.

“You’re so close,” he tells you. “You’re doing so good for me. Tell me how it feels.”

“It feels so fucking good, Miguel,” you answer honestly. “I’m so full.”

“Fucking right you are,” he growls. His hands shove your blouse up, bunching the fabric under your armpits to expose your breasts. He tugs the cups of your bra down before leaning forward, the last bit of his length slipping inside of you as his lips wrap around a pert nipple and his hand gropes the opposite breast. 

Your back arches at all the sensation - the fullness and stretch of him inside of you, the warmth of his mouth and the pinch of his fingers. He moves his mouth to your other breast and looks up at you through dark lashes with darker eyes as he licks the taut peak while holding your gaze.

His hips draw back, the drag of each inch from your body exquisite torture until he slams into you, the force of it sliding you up the desk. You cry out, your hands gripping his shoulders and your fingernails leaving crescent shaped indents as you cling to him.

Miguel stands, his arms looping beneath your thighs so that the backs of your knees rest across his forearms, spreading you open as he picks up his pace. He looks down at your body like it’s his greatest discovery.

“Fuck, fuck, te sientes tan bien,” he growls. 

“Miguel,” you moan, “please, please, please!”

“What are you begging for, arañita? Tell me.” 

“Wanna cum, please, Miguel,” you beg. He drops your legs, reaching up to wrap a hand around the back of your neck, urging you to sit up. You keep one hand planted on the desk behind you, the other diving into his thick, dark hair, pulling at the strands.

He drags his strong nose along your jaw as he murmurs, “Greedy girl, but I’ll give you what you need. Won’t I?”

“Uh huh,” you moan in response. His other hand settles at the base of your throat and his eyes hold a question that has your pussy clenching around him in anticipation.

His palm creeps up, strong fingers wrapping around your delicate throat, squeezing the sides the slightest bit. Your eyes roll back at the pressure.

“Look at me,” Miguel demands, “look at me while I make you cum again with my hand around your pretty throat.”

You gasp for air as he pounds into you, your release sparkling at the edges of your vision. It explodes like a supernova across your nerves, your muscles tightening around him and making him moan, a deep rumble that you echo as his movements grow erratic.

He slams deep inside of you, cock pulsing and filling you with warmth as he groans your name, head dropped to your shoulder. You’re both panting, trying to catch your breath as the sweat on your skin cools and you run your fingers through his hair.

“That was—“

“Perfecto,” he finishes, lifting his head and pressing a sweet kiss to your lips, one that has your heart pounding even harder than the lust filled ones from earlier. “It’s late. Let’s get this cleaned up and get you home. I’ll drive you.”

“You don’t have to do that,” you argue. He scowls at you as you continue to say, “No, seriously, you don’t need to go out of your way—“

“Will you shut up for a minute?” Miguel asks. He holds your face in his hands as he says, “Get dressed. I’m driving you home.”

He steps back, the absence of him making you feel empty as you carefully stand from the desk on shaky legs. He hands you your jeans and you look around in confusion.

“Have you seen my underwear?” You ask.

“Hm? No, I don’t see them,” he hums, buttoning his slacks. The stain from earlier has blessedly faded. 

You shrug, pulling your jeans on and fixing your blouse. Miguel cleans up the stuff he’d knocked from the desk, putting it all back in haphazard piles and grabbing his bag. He holds his hand out to you.

“Let’s get out of here,” he says. He must sense the hesitation you’re feeling when you don’t immediately grab his hand because he steps close, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you close. “No one will see us. It’ll be our secret.”

You nod, digging your teeth into your bottom lip. “Just this once?”

“Not if I have anything to say about it, arañita.”

The most fantastic fanart by narutoss.ramen on insta that fits the vibe of professor! miguel:

[is-the-snake-video-cute]

Can snakes have scoliosis or kyphosis?

Yes. One or a couple of spinal kinks are more common, but scoliosis and kyphosis both do occur. Many snakes can still have a happy and healthy life with scoliosis as long as their movement and ability to eat aren't significantly impacted, but I've found that kyphosis is more often than not severe and incompatible with life.

Scoliosis looks simply wild in snakes, too. On the outside, they just look like a particularly wiggly snake, but their X-rays are insane:

[minimomoe]

K i l l i n g M e S o f t l y

Pairing: Toji Fushiguro x Female Reader

Summary: It's hard to compete with a ghost. Especially when that ghost was Toji Fushiguro's wife.

Wrd ct: 20k

tags: angstyyy, established relationship, complicated relationships, non curse au, vaginal sex, missionary, wall sex (?), oral sex (f receiving), breeding kink, DILF Toji, grief/mourning, Toji is trying to be a good dad to Megumi, Toji has a praise kink, mentions of mamagumi, open ending

Part One, Part Two

Part One

Toji rolled over to your side of the bed to hold you closer to his body. He didn’t like how far away you strayed from him during the night. Naturally you both slept on your backs, however you stretched to all corners of the mattress while he slept stockstill. You managed to make it work, but Toji craved to have you in his arms even with your ever stretching tendencies.

Toji scooped you by the waist and dragged you to his side. 

“Mmm too close,” you mumbled, half asleep. You pushed his face away from the top of your head with no real strength. His grip only got tighter and  grumbled at your protest.

“Fucking impossible.”

A few minutes later Toji peeled one eye open to look at you. Your leg was draped around his waist, your fingers running over his chest idly. He thought you would’ve been snoring by now.

“What’s wrong?”

You popped your head up to look at him. You hand cupped his cheek and you smiled that lopsided grin he loved so much. It was like your face was loading up a smile, starting on one side before stretching over to the next. “Nothing’s wrong, baby. I just can't believe we’re living together now.” 

You have been living with Toji for a few weeks after a few months of dating. Before, your weekend stays extended into the workweek, with your growing side of the closet and personal items all around his house without you even realizing it. Toji felt more relaxed knowing that you were coming home to him, and you didn’t mind when he asked you to just…not go back to your place. 

“Everything you need is with me”, he used to say, and when you looked around  you found out that he was right. His place was even a closer commute to your job than your own was. Megumi, his son who was away for school, wasn't surprised to see the change when he came home to visit. He figured since you were the only woman he has actually seen his dad show interest in, it was bound to happen. Megumi liked you a lot, and he could tell that you were good for his dad. 

You and Toji fit each other like snug puzzle pieces. Different, but not incompatible. Toji enjoyed the way that you were always arm’s length away, that he could put his chin on your shoulder while you did mundane tasks. Or if he was feeling even more clingy, ask you to do whatever you needed to while you sat in his lap. He couldn’t do that nearly as much if you were still at your place. When you were away he would find himself humming a tune he had no idea where he got it from, until he heard you singing it softly in the shower. Or how he actually developed a semi-normal sleep schedule when you would stay up with him for multiple nights in a row just because you wanted to spend more time together.

 His personal favorite is seeing you walking around the house with nothing but his clothes on. Your thighs or shoulders exposed when you had only his t-shirts on. His sweatpants and hoodies drowning you in fabric. He’d imagined all the surfaces he could bend you over in, and then realized that he could make those daydreams a reality, and you let him. It might’ve been a major step taken quickly to others, but Toji felt like it was entirely needed. He loved you. 

You peppered his face with soft kisses that tickled his skin. You loved the high of his cheekbones, the flat strip between his eyebrows, the scar on his lip. Toji accepted your onslaught shower of affection until he turned his head to capture your lips, making you both fall into a deep kiss. His tongue hungrily slid into your mouth, and you shifted the rest of your body to lay on top of him. His hands ran up your legs, gripping your ass and massaging it while you started to grind yourself on his crotch. Toji knew immediately what you were trying to do.

“I thought you had work in the morning,” he grumbled. He usually wouldn’t give a damn, but it was so hard for you to get up in the mornings even with plenty of sleep. If you continued to rub up on him he would not be able to hold back for much longer. 

“I do,” you said in between kisses. You stamped your lips on his jaw, down the tendons of his neck, and gave kitten licks to his sternum. Toji never slept with a shirt on because he was always as hot as a furnace, so there were no interruptions for your mouth. You bit and sucked on his chest, thumbing his nipple, feeling it get hard under your touch and you flick the other one with your tongue. “Let’s do one quick round.”

“You said you were sore earlier today,” Toji remarked. He was already painfully hard from all your teasing. He didn’t bother removing your panties from your body, only scrunching the fabric covering your dripping sex to the side and eased two fingers inside of you. You sighed and lifted your hips so he could please you better while you palmed his length in his pants. Your eyes fluttered closed and you hummed. 

“I was but I feel better now. If we only do it once I'll be okay.”

“Are you trying to convince me or yourself?” He asked with a wicked grin. You smiled back at him, and he watched his cock disappear in your pussy slowly but surely. There was a soft glow in the room coming from the full moon hanging low outside of the bedroom window, but it was plenty enough to watch the soft curves of your body stretch and contract from your coupling. He watch you fuck yourself, the way you reached for his hands to steady yourself, the way your knees held his waist tighter while you swiveled your hips faster. Your eyebrows were drawn together, and your bottom lip was held between your teeth. 

Toji allows you to control the tempo. He liked to watch you use him and he shouldn’t push you too hard tonight. But when your breathy moans started to call out his name, and you opened your eyes back up to look down at him he felt his stomach flip around. You were dripping all over him and the bedding, and with that you reached to rub your clit. Toji took a sharp breath in. You clenched around him with every brush over your sensitive bud. You were really only after your own pleasure, grinding on him rather than riding, circling your clit faster. After letting go of your other hand, Toji guided your waist to have your hips to rock sensually on him. He moved your hand off of your sex, wanting to make you come himself and you slowed your speed to which he reprimanded you for. 

“Did I say to stop moving?”

“Toji, I’m gonna–” 

“Come for me,” he stated. His thumb applied a harder pressure on your clit. You shuddered, your fingernails digging into his skin and you threw your head back. Toji finally got up from his back and licked your exposed skin on your neck. His tongue ran over the bumps of tendons under the skin and you wrapped your arms around his shoulders, pulling him closer. Soft cries rang in his ears, making him fuck you from below faster. You muttered his name repeatedly in broken syllables that ended with your lips on his mouth. 

If you had your eyes open you could see the way he gazed at you falling apart in his arms. Toji would do anything to make sure that it was something that only he could view when you were ready to commit to forever. Sometimes it feels like you are so agreeable, never arguing when he takes the relationship to another level, so he had to remind himself not to be too pushy. He took it that you were just as happy as he was and had to reel himself back sometimes. 

Toji felt the sporadic pulse from your sex and knew that you were coming before you said it again. He silenced your wails with another kiss, drinking you quietly so you wouldn’t wake up Megumi even though he was across the house. Whenever you came he wasn’t too far off himself, and you still swiveled your hips through your high and coaxed him to fill you up. 

“Please, Toji? I need it inside.”

He huffed out a tight laugh. “You need it?” 

“Y-yesss. Give me what’s mine,” you ordered, and he was all too happy to oblige. You dropped your head in the junction of his neck, biting his shoulder when he came inside of you. You could feel him dripping out from the seams and you stayed wrapped around him to catch your breath. 

After five minutes of sitting in his lap Toji tried to remove himself from you but you protested. 

“Don’t move,” you whined. You almost fell asleep and it would be too jarring to separate now. 

“I need to clean you up,” Toji argued. You peeked your head out from under his jaw and complained again. “And now you only have six hours to sleep. You stop functioning when you have less than seven.” 

“You think you know me so well,” you tease. Toji hooked his arm around your waist and swung his leg over the bed, standing up with you still on his cock. You gasped loudly, every step he took to the bathroom sending shocks straight to your spot and stars bursted in your vision. 

Toji was trying to do the right thing, he swears, but when he sat you on the counter and your locked your legs around him, his original plan to clean you up got lost in translation, which meant he fucked you again until your face was tear stained. When you finally wore yourself out you only had five hours left to sleep. 

Just as expected, it was impossible to get you to wake up in the morning. You snored loudly until Toji nudged your cheek right at 6AM but got no response. He tried again, removing your face that was stuffed in his chest and rolling on your back. 

“I told you we should have gone to sleep earlier.” 

After the third round he had his hand on your neck and your calves on his shoulders, effectively flattening you into the bed. It was a great experience in the moment, one that you didn’t regret, but now you had to deal with the consequences. 

“Give me ten more minutes,” you muffled. 

“You said that last time and ended up being late. Come on, you have to get out of bed.” Toji tugged your ankle until you opened one eye at him. His hair fell over his eyebrows the same way it always did, his face in a slight frown . At this point you know that it’s his natural resting face. Always slightly disappointed but you know it was to hide just how much he cares. You let him take your foot in his lap and he massaged the balls of your feet. 

“I’ll make you breakfast. I don’t want to leave you and you slip under again.” 

“Yeah, I’m getting up,” you sighed. You shift out of his hold and finally put your feet on the ground. “I’m not going to be late again. I’m fine with anything you make for breakfast,” you said, kissing the top of his head as he was still sitting down on the bed and he pulled you back by your arm. 

“What kinda kiss was that?” 

You smile when he drags you down for a deeper kiss. His mouth was minty, showing that he’s already been up before you and you licked your lips when you separated. 

“That’s better,” he grumbled, then smacked your ass as you walked to the bathroom. 

You hopped into the bathroom, speeding through your morning routine to whirl into the closet for your work attire. You were lucky, you only needed to wear all black, and your personal style slowly morphed into it to make things easier for yourself. You quickly shimmied on a black maxi dress that subtly clung to your curves and a black knitted shrug to cover your shoulders. You went back to the bathroom, doing your makeup and keeping an eye on the time. After twenty minutes of measuring your eyeliner to make sure they were even, you gathered your purse, double checked your wallet and keys, then headed to the kitchen. 

Toji stood at the stove, sans his shirt, watching the eggs on the pan carefully. He was cooking them just the way you liked, sunny side up but only slightly runny. You creeped up behind him, slipping your arms around his waist and stamping your lips on his shoulder. Your lipstick left a mark on his skin that you smiled at. 

“There’s that bread you like in the toaster,” he informed you, opening the pot to check on the steamed eggs. 

“Mmm, thank you,” you said. The toaster popped up, and you grabbed a plate to set it on. He even mashed and seasoned an avocado to spread, along with thinly sliced tomatoes. 

“Is Megumi up? I’m gonna finish the whole thing if I don’t have to share,” you warned. 

Toji placed an egg on your sourdough slice over your tomato. You patted his cheek as another thanks. “The kid’s fine. He’s been eating oatmeal a lot lately.”

“Like father, like son,” you chuckled with your mouth full. You caught a glimpse of the time on the stove and nearly choked. Toji’s soothing hand was immediately on your back as you gulped down tea that was made for you. You winced at the taste, peering into the cup to see a golden liquid sloshing back and forth. “Is this chamomile?”

“Yeah,” He answered slowly. He watched as you got a glass of water to wash down the rest of your food, confused at your reaction. “Is it bad? Does tea ever expire?” 

“No. I just… I don’t like chamomile. And you don’t drink tea so I wasn’t expecting to find it here.” You took another huge bite of your food, trying to scarf it down to get out before you actually were late. 

Toji gave you an empty stare that made you slow your chewing. You looked down at your clothes and stared widely back at him. “What? Is there something on my face?”

“Shit, no, sorry. I have no idea why I thought it was your favorite. I bought it… for you.” 

You gave him an apologetic smile. To be fair, you never explicitly told him about it before, only that you liked chai. Little mistakes were bound to happen the closer you two got and you were rather excited for it. Soon you both would know all of each other’s idiosyncrasies. 

“It’s fine. No big deal, really. I’ll see you when I come back home, right?”

Home. It rolled off your tongue so easily it pulled Toji out of his head. He accepted the kiss you gave him on the cheek and took another one straight from your lips. 

“Yeah, I’ll be here. Want me to drive you?”

“Can’t let you do everything for me. I’ll become useless,” you laughed. “Okay, bye, seriously. Tell Megs I said good morning. I love you!” 

You were out of the door before he could say anything else, and the sound of your car starting up and getting farther away let him know that you left. Toji stared at the mug left on the counter, then at the tea box he used to make you the drink. Soft footsteps creaked down the stairs and Toji was quietly greeted by his son who mumbled a good morning. His bed head was even wilder than its normal style, the spikes separating into a million little parts. It looked like Megumi was struck by lightning. 

“Do you like chamomile?” 

Megumi blinked slowly, trying to understand the question his father asked him but it was taking a while to process. He squinted at the yellow box in Toji’s hand and shook his head as an answer. 

“What’s for breakfast?” 

There was only one other person in his life that he knew that drank chamomile. He has kept the memory of her locked deep inside of the crevices of his mind, but even Toji is susceptible to a Freudian slip. You may not have liked chamomile tea, but his late wife sure did. Toji cleared his throat before answering. 

“Oatmeal. There’s some egg on the stove if you want some.” 

Toji left his son alone after giving him breakfast. Usually the meals the two shared together were in a comfortable silence. They were two individuals who could enjoy each other’s presence without saying a word, and he loved that he could do that with his son. However, Toji was more drawn to the basement of his house than the company of Megumi.

Behind a heavy steel safe door there were some items worth locking away from both you and Megumi’s eyes, like weapons stacks of cash for emergencies, but even deeper inside the safe there was a ring in the far corner. The small gold band looked foreign to Toji as he rolled it between his fingers. He was a different man during then, someone who was blissfully happy and underestimated just how far the Zen’in clan would punish him for just existing. 

He saved up for two years to get her a ring. Two years of odd jobs and shitty ramen packets to buy what he really wanted. She said that it didn’t matter, that they didn’t need physical proof to show that they will always be together but he wanted the world to know. He’s always been prideful in that sense. Toji slipped the ring on his finger and the cool metal sent a chill down his spine. Such a familiar feeling, yet it felt like a lifetime ago. 

“Hey Dad, I’m gonna head out! Me, Yuuji, and Nobara are going to the movies and then walking around the mall.”

“Yeah, go ahead. Call me when you get there,” Toji shouted back. 

“What are you doing down there?” Megumi asked, and Toji heard his footfalls coming down the stairs. He gently placed the ring back in its corner and locked the safe once again. 

When Megumi reached the bottom Toji looked like he just grabbed cleaning supplies. A bucket, mop, and a bottle of bleach filled his hands and Megumi was relieved. 

“Stop snooping on me kid unless you want to help.”

“I’m good. See you later?” Megumi was already halfway up the stairs. 

“Call me when you get there. And I mean call me, not text. I need to make sure it’s you,” Toji yelled after him. 

“Stop nagging, I’ll call.”

Toji has his son back. He’s managed to find someone that he loves once again. Today was a little blip, something that could easily be fixed. He didn’t need to dwell on the past. When he left the basement, Toji didn’t look back to think about the what ifs.

~~

Toji mixed up facts with you and his wife a total of five times before you started to question it. He grimaced after each supposed favorite or dislike of yours wasn’t really yours, and when the flash of confusion swept over your face it was like a punch to his gut. 

“Is my sister feeding you the wrong information on purpose?” You joked, but the laugh was strained. Something’s were stuff that you had mentioned, multiple times before, and you know that Toji has a great memory. Toji would apologize and make up for the mistake by spoiling you with one gift or another, but it still gnawed at him. He needed to get it together.

Despite Toji’s better efforts to focus on you better, memories of his wife pushed to the forefront of his mind, even sleep couldn’t save him. When the weather unexpectedly drops he’s reminded of how much he misses his wife. 

But the cold doesn’t hold any good memories for Toji Fushiguro. When the weather changed, he kept his head low and his hands shoved in his pocket when walking outside to ignore the frost that reminded him of some of the worst nights of his life. Perhaps it started when he was dumped in a punishment pit at the young age of 5 for standing up against his uncles’ cruel insults about his late mother while it was freezing cold, so cold that the blood from his busted lip glued his mouth shut despite the hot tears running down his face. Or maybe it was the memory of giving up his son in a moment of weakness. 

Toji remembered leaving agreement with puffs of his breath wafting in front of him like little ghosts, and he swore he saw the face of Megumi in one of them while he tried to convince himself that it didn’t matter. That nothing mattered.  But Toji knew the reason, the main reason why he hated the cold. It haunted his dreams whenever he thought that he would finally get a restful night of sleep, replaying itself over and over again in his mind until he avoided sleep altogether, opting to stay dead on his feet than to enter his own personal hell. 

Right now Toji knew that he was in his bed sleeping deep in his home, very far removed from the event yet still… still he was reminded of his greatest failure. Awake in the dream he saw sticky, gray snow and the night sky. It was all he could see for miles on end, falling quietly like a whisper of death. Crisp cold air filled his lungs, dried his tongue, watered his eyes. It was a dream and he knew it, because this scene has played out before. He knows how this ends and he doesn’t want to participate. Toji screws his eyes shut and opens them again, but still the snow falls.

There’s a light on the horizon. It started small, a little pinprick of a blinding stream that shone directly in his eye, and it called for him. It called his name in a voice that clenched his heart and twisted it out of his chest. The voice was weak, confused, scared . It begged, she begged, Toji’s wife begged for him. She was in pain, Toji could hear the quivering in her voice. She was unable to complete a full sentence without her voice giving out to broken pleas. 

The beam grew in size, beckoning as he had been lost at sea for a very long time now, a ghost ship with no passengers. He ran as fast as he could, his arm outstretched to catch the light that filled his soul and the wind whipped his face. The snow slowed him down, swallowing his feet until he was heaving his legs out of it knee deep, but that wouldn’t stop him. She was just at the end of the road. He could see her again and that was enough for him to keep trying even if the ending was always the same. 

Toji collapsed in the frigid earth. The light was gone, her voice swarmed all around him, and the snow was no longer white. The sheet of white at his feet was broken by something far more sinister. Crimson blood bloomed with her voice growing louder, terrified of what’s to come. Toji’s fingers felt raw from scooping the snow up like a madman. He was shivering and sweating and crying all at the same time, desperate to finally get her back. He dug until he reached soil and dug further. They promised themselves to each other at their wedding, yet he was still here without her. His wife’s blood on his hands that bled for her painted the snow until it lost all purity and he was left alone with her coffin, reminded once again how he was too late. He couldn't change anything this time and he never will. He stared at the coffin, the snow covering it in a blanket, slowly undoing all of his work. 

Toji did not wake up with a start, however he refused to open his eyes when he woke, because the white ceiling above him would remind of how the snow falls. It did nothing to stop the tears that escaped. Always so perceptive when it comes to him you woke because of the shift of energy, immediately trying to see what was wrong. You hovered over Toji’s face, gently wiping away his tears and tried to coax him awake.

“Toji? Baby? Talk to me. It’s just a dream,” you murmured. As tired as you were you wanted to make sure he was alright. Toji peeled his eyes open and your face filled his frame. You squinted down at him, still being dragged down with sleep, and you frowned slightly. “This is your third nightmare this week. What’s wrong?”

An innocent question. The answer would break you if he said it out loud. Instead he wrapped his arms around your body and rolled over, resting his entire weight on top of you and buried his face in your neck.

“M’fine. You need to sleep.”

You were doubtful. Toji was deflecting again, but you didn’t know how else to get him to confide in you. He adjusted your arms so that they wouldn’t go numb under him and rested his head again, clearly closing the conversation before it even started.

“ We need to sleep, and you can tell me anything, Toji. I mean it. I’m always here for you. I love you.” 

Such a sweet girl. How Toji got blessed with people like you was with all shit he’s done was beyond him. He lifted his head up to look at your face, pushing your bonnet off of your eyebrows to look at you fully. You waited expectantly, hopefully. Toji sighed and touched his forehead with yours. 

“I only have one regret in my life. It costed someone’s life, and I don’t know why the fuck it’s on replay these days but it’s nothing you need to worry about.”

“Is it your wife?” You whispered. “I don’t mind talking about her if it helps you.” 

He sucked a sharp breath in, his eyes screwed shut. The floodgates were open, and he couldn’t get them to close again. If he shut the conversation down right now it would shit on the attempt you made to be understanding towards him, but was it the last thing he wanted to talk about with you. His dead lover to his new lover. What a twisted joke.

A knot filled with all the things he wants to say but can’t grew in the back of his throat, making it hard to breathe. “Yeah.” 

“Losing someone is hard, I know that much. If your anniversary is coming up, the memories are gonna keep coming back. Don’t feel like you need to suppress them because I’m here. Be honest to yourself, go through the motions, and come back to me when you're ready.”

Toji felt overwhelmed with emotion, not really sure which one he wanted to point out. He nodded, his head moving yours, then gave you a kiss. It was tentative at first, unsure if it was the right thing to do, then Toji got greedy, drinking you hungrily until you were panting. Your fingernails scraped his nape, tugging his hair to get him off of your mouth so he went for your neck instead. 

“T-toji,” you whimpered. Your voice sounded too close to hers and it made him freeze. He stared at you like a deer in headlights. He snapped out of it himself, imagining how he must’ve looked to you and shook his head.

“Sorry. C’mere.” 

He held you in his arms laying on your side, being the big spoon for once since you have been sleeping together. You stretched your fingers across his bicep, and you couldn’t help but to wonder who he really saw while kissing you.

The nightmares didn’t stop. In fact, they got worse, often waking you up later and later into the night, and it would take a while to wake Toji out of them. Your body suffered because of it, your coworkers commenting on how dead on your feet you looked and often sticking you in the back to retrieve dresses than to subject customers to your constant yawning. 

Toji started to sleep in the living room because of it. You were being overly considerate, not telling him how much of a toll he was taking on your body but he could see it. The deep eye bags, the slow reactions, the half smiles. This was something he needed to get through alone. He’d wake up shivering in the dark even with the blankets you snuck over to lay over him. 

One night he rose from the snow to find you on the other end of the couch sleeping. Your legs tangled up with his under blankets, and he gently tried to remove himself to not wake you. There was only ten minutes left before your alarm was supposed to go off, so Toji spent that time staring at your face. He squatted on the floor beside you, ghosting the planes of lips until it was time.

“What are you doing here?” He asked after rubbing the bridge of your nose enough for you to wake up. You groaned, twitching your nose like a rabbit then sighed. 

“Bed’s too big without you,” you mumbled. “It feels like we’re fighting.”

“We are not fighting.”

“I know that. It still feels that way.”  You stretched and threw your arm over your eyes. With your other hand you grabbed Toji’s hand and rested it over your chest. “Do you think… Have you tried therapy? Professional grief counseling?” 

Toji stilled, and the air became frigid. You bit on your lip nervously, but that was why you threw your hand over your eyes. You didn’t want to see his reaction if you did overstep. 

“I don’t need that. It’ll be over soon.” “But–”

“I’m fine,” Toji said in a warning tone.

“Look, all I’m saying is that it might help if you–”

“Is there something wrong with your bed? Why are you both here?” 

Megumi interrupted the conversation and Toji was grateful for it. Megumi looked at the both of you rubbing his eyes. 

“Nothings wrong. We were just talking but we all have stuff to do today so let’s get to it.” Toji held out his hand for you to use to get up, and just like that, the channel of conversation was closed.

“Gumi, is this your last day before you have to head back to school?” You asked before he walked into the kitchen. 

“Stop calling me that,” he grumbled, but nodded. You were the only person who ever called him that, and while he hid his blush from you, his ever perceptive father snorted. 

“I’ll make us dinner then,” you smiled. “There’s nobody else who will tell me obscure animal facts at random intervals.” “I could do that for you,” Toji mumbled, his hand still holding yours.

 “They're not as cool as Megs’, sorry.”

You could play this game. Keep the mood light and airy even though Toji’s behaviour weighed heavily on your heart. It was the only thing you could do given his reaction. You let go of his hand to get started on your morning while he talked to Megumi some more, and you noticed a golden ring on the bathroom counter. Immediately you knew it was Toji’s, as it was too large to be a surprise for you, and gingerly you picked it up. You held it up to the light, looking at it at all dimensions and noticed an inscription on the inside. A date, a time well before you, and if you had to guess, Toji was in his early twenties when it was engraved. Young to be married, but who could stop two people in love? 

You placed the ring back where you found it and washed your face harshly. You knew Toji had a life before you, there is no reason to get jealous over that. Whatever happened to her, it must’ve been terrible if he kept on having nightmares about it. That’s what you repeated in your head over and over again when you came back out to breakfast waiting for you with Megumi and Toji sitting at the breakfast bar. You were someone different before you met him too, it was only fair. You can’t hold it against him or his late wife, but it didn’t make it hurt any less. When Toji kissed your temple you tried to keep your face pleasant, carefully hiding the tumultuous waves of feelings stirring in your chest. 

You took only the bagel he laid out for you and calmly walked to the door. As expected, he called out for you. 

“That’s all you’re going to eat?” 

You turned around to give him a small smile. “It’s that time of the month. I really don’t feel like eating a lot right now. Hopefully I’ll be hungry for dinner.” 

“Eat something before then,” he said. He opened the garage door for you and walked you to your car. 

Seated inside, you started up your car and Toji stood beside you, waiting for you to roll down your window.

“Gonna leave without a goodbye?” 

“Of course not,” you said. You gave him a kiss, one that was longer than you intended because a kiss could never be short and sweet with him. Toji wasn’t satisfied until your lipstick stained his mouth and smudged out of your lips. 

“I appreciate what you do for me,” he confessed unexpectedly. “Don’t forget that.”

You nodded, holding back the tears that threatened to spill all over your face. He cupped your chin and kissed you one last time. “I love you.” 

That was something that didn’t leave Toji’s mouth very often. The words were hard to form on Toji’s tongue, not because he didn’t believe in them, but it wasn’t something that he heard very often growing up. Trying to give what he rarely had himself was an impossible task at times, but he knew how much you needed to hear those words. 

“Fuck you Toji, you always know how to make me cry,” you laughed, dabbing your eyes. “I love you too. Now please, don’t make me any more emotional. I want to be stable when I get to work.”

Toji pressed his lips on your forehead and let you drive off, and you felt a little better after finding the ring. Toji loves you . That’s all the confirmation you needed. 

With the day being so slow at work you were excited to go back home and prepare dinner. Toji usually took care of all the meals, finding it easier to just make the cravings of you and Megumi rather than ordering in, and he turned out to be pretty good at it. That is, after you got him to stop caring about the calorie count of everything. You were spoiled rotten because of his cooking, so it would feel nice to exercise your own skill in the kitchen. 

You came home a little earlier than usual, and it surprised Toji who was on the phone with somebody when you waltzed in. He wrapped his arm around your shoulders and pressed a kiss on the top of your head, holding you while he talked on the phone. 

“Sukuna, stop calling me about bullshit like this. I will change my phone number,” he threatened into the phone. You released a silent snort. He hung up the phone and dropped his full weight on your shoulders, his chin digging on your head and his arms dragging down your shoulders. 

“Toji!”

“Need help with dinner? We should probably go grocery shopping,” he thought out loud, ignoring your complaints. 

“I was thinking about that. You’re gonna come with me?”  

“Duh. Let’s go,” he said, and you could feel him smiling. You quickly changed into more comfortable clothing, matching the monochromatic sweats Toji was wearing. You took his car, and you sat comfortably in the passenger seat while he manned the vehicle. He listened to you babble about your day, holding your thigh and eventually your hand the entire ride until you got to the store. 

“I really am going to miss Megumi. I like having him around the house,” you sighed. You walked beside Toji as he pushed the shopping cart around. You grabbed staples that needed to be in the fridge already, and now you were looking for desert to settle on. 

“The kid’s gonna be fine.”

“Just say you’re gonna miss him.”

You strolled in front of chocolate cakes. You pointed at one, and Toji shook his head. 

“He can still visit. It’s only a train ride away.” He reached for a box of pie and you turned it down. He rolled his eyes but placed it back down. 

“And he’s gonna miss you too. You guys are just cute little mirrors of each other. You know what? I can just make brownies. He likes that, right?” “You don’t even cook for me this much,” Toji grumbled. 

You patted the side of his face. “You’ll be okay, I promise.”  

After checkout you both loaded the car up and headed back home. You sang quietly to the songs playing on the radio, and everything about early morning events slowly escaped your mind. Back in the house you divided the work, you brought in the bags that had the ingredients you needed to cook and Toji brought in everything else. Times like this are when Toji and you fell into a comfortable routine. No words needed to be shared but he felt connected to you in a way that he hasn’t felt in years. It was the domesticity he constantly craved and he relished in it. 

Toji aided you in any way you needed, making preparation of the food go faster. Before both of you knew it Megumi was back from spending the day out when you were placing dishes on the table with a beaming smile. You were so proud of yourself, and Megumi scanned the table with slight surprise. 

“I’m just one person,” he said sheepishly. 

“I might’ve gotten a little bit carried away, but that’s just because I’m gonna miss you so much,” you smiled. “Go on, wash up and we’ll eat.”

You cared for Megumi like he was your own son and Toji couldn’t be anymore grateful for that. Since fixing his relationship with Megumi, Toji had put his needs in front of all others, including other romantic partners. You had understood that from the beginning and made a conscious effort to know the young boy not just to get on Toji’s good side, but because you understood that Megumi is his own person who has real thoughts and needs. It just so happened the more that Megumi accepted you, the more Toji let you in his life. 

While sharing breakfast was common in the house, sharing dinner was less so. Everybody was busier later in the day, often eating out or warming up leftovers to scarf down. Now the table was filled with your jokes and Megumi and Toji’s laugh, he realized that you were right. He was going to miss his son being around all the time. It was going to be moments like this that would creep up on him in the future, reminding him of how warm everything was if he didn’t appreciate them now. 

An unfamiliar name to your ear slipped from Toji’s mouth in response to something you said, making him freeze and he prayed that you didn’t hear it. It was a mistake, an thoughtless, grave mistake that could ruin the night that you three were having. He meant to say your name, he was holding your hand. Your smile faltered, and Megumi gave a weary glance over to his dad. 

“Who?” You asked quietly, but the look on Toji’s face gave you all the answers you needed. It was the first time that you have ever heard her name. It was pretty, but the context made you sick. You laughed a humorless laugh staring down into your plate. Toji’s apologies did not reach your ears. Megumi called out to you, but your throat was too tight to respond. Slipping your hand out of Toji’s you cracked your knuckles slowly, each pop echoing in the room. 

“Are… are you all packed up, Megs?” You changed the subject. You didn’t need Toji’s ghosts becoming yours, ruining the moment that you were having. 

“Y-yeah. Just last minute stuff like toothbrushes and stuff is left.”

You nodded robotically. “That’s good. I, uh, I wanted us to watch a movie but it’s already getting so late. Are you done eating? I’ll clean up so you can get a good rest tonight.”

Megumi got up from his seat with his empty plate in hand. “I can help! I don’t mind, really.” 

Toji reached for your hand again and failed miserably when you reeled back. “Wait–”

“Thanks Megs, I’m just gonna put them in the dishwasher if you want to help me with that.” Your voice was tight, a telltale sign of tears about to fall. 

“I didn’t mean–” 

“Could you give me and Toji a second first?” 

“Yes,” Megumi said, scrambling out of the way. Once you heard his feet upstairs above you you let out a shaky breath. You pushed yourself up out of your seat, and Toji stood up quickly beside you. He had no idea what to expect. He would take you screaming at him over the crushing silence he had to endure. 

“I’m sorry,” he offered first. He sincerely meant it, unsure of how else to express his remorse in the moment. “Look at me… please.” 

“You need help. I’m not trying to insult you, or emasculate you, or anything like that, but you. Need. Help .” Your voice wavered. You faced Toji, and the sight broke his heart. He often teased you about crying so easily, but he never wanted to be the cause of it. Heavy tears brimmed your waterline and your lips quivered. 

“I’ve been trying to ignore this but it’s getting to be too much, Toji. Do you even see me?”

“Of course I see you,” he promised. He cupped your face and the tears started to fall, and he brushed them away with his thumb. You vehemently shook your head and got out of his hold. 

“You don’t. You see her. Everything is about her. I don’t want to be a replacement for your wife,” you sobbed. You took a step back and put your hand over your mouth. You caught your breath, and Toji’s heart raced at what you could possibly say next. 

“I’m going to clean now.”

“Let me he–”

“Please don’t. Megumi already is. He’s probably listening in.”

So this is how it felt to be shut out. Something that Toji often did to you out of habit did not feel too nice to be on the other side of. It actually felt fucking horrible. Toji didn’t push any further, afraid of causing anymore damage and left you alone in the dining room. Megumi stood at the top of the stairs, cursing and barely ducking out of sight just like you predicted. 

“I saw you, Megumi,” he called out. “You’re free to help her out now.”

Megumi walked out, looking at his dad straight on. A silent message was shared between them and Toji dropped his head. 

“Fix this soon,” Megumi said when he passed his dad, and that’s the only thing anyone said to Toji for the rest of the night. 

Thanks for reading!! Lemme know your thoughts

Part Two

M.list || Twitter || Ao3

[arabellasleopardcoat]

 A Thousand Words (Daemon Targaryen x Reader) 

Summary: You want to marry him. He wants to fuck you. The two things are not as incompatible as they sound. 

Requested: Yes! Predator/Prey with Daemon.

Warnings: Smut. Vaginal unprotected sex. Animalistic sex? Sadistic Daemon. Toxic relationship. Mentions of breeding kink. PWP with baby plot.

You leaned down, examining a few bergamot flowers more closely. Asking for permission in a low voice, you cut three of them. They would be enough to soothe the children’s bee stings. 

As you placed them in your basket, you heard a twig snap, followed by leaves crunching. You straightened up immediately, flowers forgotten by your feet. Your eyes glanced towards the tree line. There were no animals near you, apart from a few birds. Yet, the noise had been loud. As if the twig had snapped from something heavy stepping on it. 

You knew these forests like the palm of your hand. You had grown up here, after all. There were no animals heavy enough to make such a noise around this area. 

“Is someone there?” You asked, feeling a bit silly for doing so. Other than the chirping of birds and the soft murmur of a river near, you heard nothing. But if there was someone there with ill intent, they weren’t about to announce themselves. 

Keeping your movements very slow, you picked up your basket and kept picking flowers. Despite always enjoying long treks in these woods, you were unable to concentrate on the beauty surrounding you. Uneasiness pooled in your stomach, all the hairs on your body standing up to attention. You couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched. Every few steps, you looked over your shoulder, but there was nothing there. 

This outing was meant to be meditative for you, and you were clearly not reaching that goal. The pressure of being the Lady of your household sometimes got to you. When you were a woman, it was as if you had to do twice as much to prove yourself worthy. Nature had always been a respite for you, yet today, peace seemed to evade you.  You felt too anxious, too nervous, to be able to tune in with yourself. The ambience had been ruined by the sound, triggering all your paranoia. 

You decided to head back towards the castle. Since you were still uneasy, you decided to take a few confusing laps, just in case you were being followed. You walked towards the darker part of the forest, where the trees were older and taller, their branches overlapping and obscuring the view of the sky. To anyone who was unfamiliar with the place, the twists and turns you were taking would throw them off. 

Unfortunately for you, whoever was after you was not unfamiliar with the place. Now that you were in the more isolated part of the forest, you could hear footsteps after you, even with your pulse beating loudly in your ears. With a muttered curse at your own idiocy, you hiked up your skirts and started to run. 

It went badly. You tripped over a root, going down hard. The skin of your palms lifted, slowly starting to bleed. And someone pounced on you from behind. Hands wrapped around your waist, pulling you flush against a solid chest. 

“Have I startled you so much you forgot your way in your own lands?” You recognized the voice just as you were about to shriek. Daemon Targaryen and you didn’t have much in common. In fact, you were total opposites. While he preferred the noise of the city, you enjoyed the calm of the woods. He liked dornish red, while you much favored arbor gold. He liked bedding a new woman every night, you liked compromise. And, of course, how could you forget? Daemon liked chasing, and you liked running. 

“My Prince!” You tried to sound scandalized. This game of yours was one of your favorites to play, and you guessed this was why the Rogue Prince kept coming back to you. He enjoyed the thrill of the chase too much to not give in to it.  “You aren’t meant to be here.”

“I can’t stay away from you. You know that.” 

“You should.” You frown at him, playing your part. Despite it, you cannot help the teasing tone that your words take next.  “It’s not proper, for a Lady and a Prince to be alone together, so far from other people.”

Daemon doesn’t answer. Instead, he pulls you more into his body, your back flush to his chest. He starts to press lavish kisses to your nape and shoulders. You nearly moan. Nearly. Because you have a part to play. 

“Don’t. No. We could get caught.” You mutter, urgently trying to get him off you. So far, getting him into your bed had proven a piece of cake. Getting him to come back to it, slightly harder. Getting him to offer you marriage, damn near impossible. 

In the eyes of others, you were nothing more than friends. Not even courting, despite his constants visits to your household. It certainly got tongues rolling among the realm, but there was nothing official yet. 

“Come on. Just let me have you.” Daemon bites down on your shoulder, softly. “You know you want to.” 

“Out in a forest?” You laugh. “Don’t be ridiculous.” 

“It’s not ridiculous if we both want it.” He pushes your dress slightly lower, tracing nonsensical patterns on your back.  “Don’t tell me you haven’t thought about it, with how much you like the outdoors.” 

“No.” You are lying through your teeth, and he knows it. Knows you. But it’s such a sweet game, that the two of you play. For you, it’s the high of getting to scream and bite and be as wild as you wish to, away from the stiffness of your everyday life. For him, you guess it is part of being a conqueror and getting to rough you up a little. 

You are at a stalemate. You will never admit it to him, how much you enjoy this. Not only are you too proud, but you feel slightly embarrassed by it. There is a certain pride in being different, in not conforming to the role society has decided was yours to fill. Fate bends to your will, after all. You are someone who makes things happen, not someone that has things happen to her. Be it your own marriage plans, to commanding your household with an iron fist. Yet, you crave being made to feel helpless. 

Daemon is not about to budge, either. When he thinks he is right about something, he is right about it and there is no room for arguing. His grip on your waist gets more restrictive. You stay like that, kneeling on the floor as he sits patiently behind you. 

“What about a… Friendly wager?” Daemon kisses your earlobe as he speaks, softly. “If you win, you can leave. I won't bother you again.” 

“And if you win?” You know already that Daemon is going to win. Not only is he competitive, but you don’t want him to leave you alone. Like, ever. You would marry him in a heartbeat, were he to ask. So if it is necessary, you will lose on purpose. It’s not the first time the two of you played like this. You have gotten talented at it. The key is in not making it too obvious, less you anger him. The male ego is such a fragile thing, and Daemon needs to be handled with care. He is as proud as you are. 

“I get to take you. Here. As you are, in this forest.” He whispers, as he leaves behind soft, wet bites over your shoulders. Already, your blood is warming. You feel hot all over. Were it not madness, you would slip out of your cloak and dress and try to cool down. 

You ponder on it for a few seconds, distracted by the feel of his mouth and the way his skilled fingers pull down your bodice. It’s a bad idea. A terrible one, in fact. But it does sound tantalizing. To be run down by Daemon, held down and fucked as if the two of you were nothing more than animals in heat is… Well, it’s certainly something. You don’t know if it’s the moon, or the way he seems to have a talent for convincing you of bad ideas, but you cannot help the way your cunt pulses when you think of it. 

“Fine.” You say, in an annoyed tone. As if you are not as aroused as he is by the idea.  “What do I have to do?” 

Daemon’s breath hitches. You can hear it and feel it, pressed this close to him. He takes the tiniest intake of air, chest moving softly against your back, before stuttering a little. 

Surprised. You know even without looking at him. Out of all the games the two of you play, this one has to be the one that has taken it further. It’s risky, and he probably offered it on a whim, knowing the odds were not in his favor. But you said yes. And that changes everything. 

“Try to get out of the forest before I catch you.” His voice sounds dazed. It’s clear Daemon is still in disbelief. Yet, he is clearly eager to play because you can feel his hardness pressing into your lower back. 

“I assume I will get a head start.” You tilted your head back and gave him a cheeky smile. The sort of smile that drove him mad. Daemon gave you a rare, soft smile, before kissing you. It was warm and demanding, forcing you to open up to him. When you parted, you were the one feeling nearly drunk on sensation. He was back in control. 

“I’m feeling generous, so I will count to twenty before giving chase.” Daemon spoke, but the words didn’t really register in your mind. You blinked at him, slowly. Your brain had been turned into mush thanks to the amazing kiss. He smirked and spanked your arse.  “Starting now. One.” 

Jolted out of your trance, you stood abruptly. Your clock was running and you wanted so badly to complain you were not ready, but there was simply no time.  Beside you, Daemon kept counting. 

“Three… Four… Five…”  Bewildered at the injustice of it all, you scowled. But Daemon's face remained smug, and so you had no choice. You stood up, wiping your palms on your dress, and ran off as fast as you could. You got a bit tangled in your skirts and had to stop to hike them up properly. 

“Seven… Eight… Nine…” It was pronounced with a hint of laughter. Almost halfway. You wanted to scream, but you knew Daemon. He never played fair. Instead, you chose to duck behind some trees, so hopefully he would lose your trail. 

You kept running, until you no longer heard his voice. The only noise you could hear now were your own agitated breaths and the soft sounds of the forest. If you were to make it out, you still had a long way to go. 

Since you didn’t really want to make it out, and you were getting more agitated the more you ran, you stopped.  Deciding to remain still until you heard his footsteps again, you sat down on the grass. But soon, you could hear the tell-tale sound branches make when being pulled apart, twigs and leaves crunching under a pair of boots.  

It was not as long as you thought it would be, and so, you startled a little. There was a bit of panic gripping you, as well as excitement. You were pretty sure he would tackle you into the ground when he saw you, and you were not anticipating that pain. That this was happening made you feel small in all the right ways. As if you were no more than something to be conquered, to be caught, by a much bigger predator. 

Crouching, you sprung out, your movements louder than you would have liked. You thought you had more time. This was not going how you expected it to go, not at all. You had barely calmed your breathing down when you were running again. 

“Come here!” You heard him scream, and you resisted the urge to look over your shoulder and watch just how close he was. You sprinted, pushing your body harder. But your body was already tired from your earlier run, when you thought someone was following you. You were slower than usual. 

“Come on. Give in.” Daemon’s voice sounded too close. He was not running after you, from what you could hear. Merely walking. Circling you, closer and closer, until he was ready to pounce on his prey. 

The thought made you embarrassingly wet. Your thighs clenched, trying to get some friction on your cunt, but with how you were moving, it was nearly impossible. 

“You boast a lot, my Prince. But I don’t see you doing anything.” You answer, cheekily. This time, you do turn around and look at him. His eyes are dark with hunger. It makes you feel small and powerless.

You remind yourself this is why Prince Daemon likes you so much. He loves how submissive you can be, how willing to play his game. You let your face show everything you are feeling, face contorted between arousal and fear, eyes darting restlessly searching for a way out. 

Daemon walks calmly towards you. Instead of running, you remain rooted in place. It seems fear has frozen you. You let your skirts fall back down around your ankles, dropping all pretense to keep running. 

He takes his time, circling you like a hound would do with a bunny. Waiting for the right time to sink his teeth and tear apart, until you are no more than exposed tendons and flesh. 

“Now, now. Don’t look so fearful.” Daemon brushes your hair behind your ears. The touch is tender, a contrast to the sadistic glee shining in his eyes. It's clear the chase has been as exciting for him as it was for you. “I am a gracious winner. I won’t hurt you. Too much.” And with a dark grin, he is pulling your cloak open, tearing at the bodice of your dress, pushing you down. It all happens in a flurry of movement, too fast to follow where his hands are, too brutal to realize when it is that you end up on your knees.  

Without needing to be told to, you go to your hands and knees. Daemon chuckles, pulling your skirts up and your undergarments out of the way. 

“This was what you needed, wasn’t it?” You can feel his hand making its way between your thighs, checking your wetness. Your face heats up in shame when you hear the loud squelching noise his finger makes when entering you. Never have you been so aroused from looks and words alone. And Daemon can definitely tell. 

You fix your eyes on the grass beneath you. You can hear how Daemon unbuckles his belt and shrugs off his pants. Then, you feel his weight on top of you, as he goes on his hands and knees too. His legs bracket yours as he forces you to lower your chest, pushing your face into the earth. 

More shame and arousal twist on your belly. This is not how a lady should be treated, taken on her hands and knees, teats out and hanging out of her dress on a forest floor. Daemon is about to fuck you as if you were a common whore, and you can't help the gush of wetness that floods your center when you think of it. 

“You did.” He gives an incredulous laugh, noticing how you are absolutely dripping. He rubs the tip of his member against your folds, coating himself on your slick. The feel of it against your hole, firm and scorching hotel, makes you squirm with the need to take him in. “You really did.” 

“Stop teasing.” You complain, trying to move your hips and chase him. It's useless. The position Daemon has you in lets you do little but be smothered by him. 

Suddenly, there is a pull in your hair, making you shriek. Your roots hurt, so you arch your neck, going with the movement his fisted hand is imposing. 

“And who do you think you are, little girl? To order a Prince?” It's nasty and menacing, whispered in your ear as he forces your body to bow. “It must be so hard, acting so tough all the time. So collected, so proper. When, in reality, you just need someone to take you as the wanton whore you are.” 

You can only gasp, seeing white stars reflected on your eyelids, the stinging pain of the pull heating your poor scalp and neck. 

“I hunted you down. I brought you to your knees. I own you.” Daemon pushes forward in a single, punishing thrust. You scream, desperately scratching the grass for purchase. He is not very deep, but he feels huge, splitting you open in all the right ways. Often, when Daemon and you go to bed together, your foreplay is much longer. He is not as young as he used to be, or so he says. Despite it, Daemon finds ways to prolong your encounters even when his body doesn't cooperate. You are not used to taking him without preparation and it shows. 

 “I am in charge.” His voice comes out strained, through gritted teeth. He pulls at your hair, just for the sake of it. You feel sweat start to gather at your temples and lower back, both from the strain and how heated your blood feels.  “Do you understand?” 

 “Yes.” You mutter, struggling to form a coherent thought thanks to the way he is fucking you. 

“Louder.” Daemon snaps his hips against yours. His grip on your hair gets even more punishing. “Tell me you understand.” 

“I understand.” It comes out in a sob, as you try to hold on to the grass, the earth, anything. Your fingers hurt from clawing at the dirt, your face slowly getting squished against the grass. Despite how much you struggle to stay somewhat upright, you are no match for his strength. 

“What was that, my Lady?” The smell of moss and sweat fills your nose, as Daemon presses you down in an even more brutal way. He kneads at one of your breasts, cruelly. “I didn’t catch it.” 

“Yes! Yes! Yes!” You scream, voice hoarse. Your words melt off into a litany of moans, punched out little noises that seem to come out from so deep in your chest that they are more like sobs.  

He lets go of your hair, encouraging you to lift your hips instead. 

“Raise your hips.” His hand rubs at your hipbones, demanding. You obey, too weak to fight him. This is the part you like the most when you play like this. The way your mind goes blank, and you can focus only on obeying him. “Good girl. What would your servants think if they saw you like this? Their lady, reduced to a breeding bitch.” 

The demeaning words bring you out of your haze. He can’t… Surely, he wouldn’t. You won’t allow him to ruin your reputation, not like this.  You try to get up and fight his grip, but Daemon lowers his hand and starts rubbing at your pearl until you are a trembling mess. The last thing in your mind is getting away from him. 

“You take me so well, little girl.” He coaxes more and more pleasure out of your body, forcing it to rise to impossible heights. You feel like you are about to fall off the edge, stomach tensing, knees buckling until you are face down in the dirt. His hands on your hips are the only thing keeping you upright, as you scream and scream, whole world blooming into pleasure.  “You were made for me.” 

No matter how much your cunt flutters and twitches in pleasure, Daemon keeps fucking you. He doesn’t seem to care that you are overstimulated, that it’s too much. He chases his peak unashamedly, losing all inhibitions. 

“I’ll fill you up with my seed. Put a bastard in your belly." The words are spoken in a frustrated tone, probably not even meant for your ears. "You won’t be able to keep running, then."

While you have insisted on previous encounters that Daemon pulls out, you find yourself curious about his words.  Is he really going to spill inside you? Being one to avoid compromise so badly, you would not have expected Daemon to even think of doing so. Has your teasing driven him so mad he is unable to contain himself? 

Never before have you felt so smug. You have him. Finally. The satisfaction is too much to bear, so you decide to reward him by clenching around his member.  

The reaction is immediate. Daemon curses and his hips lose all rhythm. He muffles his scream on your shoulder, panting wildly. 

You get to marry him not even a month later. After all, returning to your castle in a grass stained dress, with the Prince in similar conditions, is a picture that speaks for itself. 

[thollandneedy]

You can leave your glasses on- Tom Holland

A/n: Dedicated to all of the Tom Holland’s hoes glasses (me

Warnings: Sexual mentions and slight sexual conversation with no smut (sorry

Summary: Y/n discovers she have a glasses kink

Don’t forget to share, like, comment and leave your ideas here

Bellah’s Masterlist 🪻

The light from the television shone on the faces of the couple on the gray sofa bed. 

Thomas had one of his hands on Y/N's back, while the weight of his body poured over her like a fine wine. Y/n was going through a difficult week at work, and Thomas, with a good boyfriend, tried to cheer her up. 

Y/n found herself so tired that her body was only reacting to stimulation, while Holland ran his strong hands over her waist. As soon as one of his hands passed over the button of the girl's jeans, she touched it gently as a warning.

"Tommy, I'm not in the mood today," Y/n said between kisses. 

The actor's brown eyes turned to her with a frustrated look. Given the intense week his girlfriend had had, the least he could do to help her was some form of alternative relaxation (better known as sex). The man put one of his hands under the sofa so that he could get off his girlfriend and sit down next to her. With a long sigh, Y/n sat down next to her boyfriend, touching his shoulder.

"Is everything all right?" She asks, even though she already knows the answer

"It's just that I thought I could help in some way. The dinner, the massage, and well... the sex." The brunette admits, looking down at his feet covered in white socks.

"I know, but I'm so tired. It feels like my body is just a puppet or something. I feel so carried away by my stress that I've been forgetting to be human this week and trying to bear all the burdens that are coming at me." The woman explains, feeling dissatisfied with the attitude she has had to take.

"Of course, love. I understand." Thomas nods, tidying up the bulge in the middle of his pants from his hot kisses with his girlfriend.

Y/n lies back on the cushions in the living room, tucking his legs in and bringing them close to him. The brunette just runs one of his hands through his messy curls, and then turns off the program that was playing on the television so that he can switch to another movie and series platform.

"Shall we watch something?" Holland asks, leaning closer to Y/n with a voice of embarrassment at the incompatibility of the moments.

"Sure! Can we watch a romantic comedy?" Y/n tries to lighten the mood with a sincere smile 

Holland agrees, returning the suggestion with a quick smile. Then, as soon as the remote control found its way into his hands, he reached over to the headboard to pick up a black box. Inside was a pair of glasses with thick, round lenses on black temples. Y/n had never seen her boyfriend wearing glasses before, since no one in her family had a history of myopia or any other vision impairment. The dark-haired man opened the two stems of the glasses, placing them on his face naturally. 

But for Y/n, that changed everything. 

The scene played out in slow motion, and those long fingers sliding under the glasses became more sensual than ever. The girl's eyes opened wider to contemplate the act, but Thomas just continued looking for a movie in the catalog of romantic comedies. All that tiredness in her body vanished in the blink of an eye, and now her attention was focused on her boyfriend's face. 

"Honey, there's this movie here called..." Thomas turned his face to talk to Y/n, and his speech stopped as soon as he realized how he was being stared at. "What's wrong? Is everything all right?" He asks confusedly.

"When did you buy these glasses, Thomas?" The woman asked, feeling her heart pound every time her eyes traveled down to the parts of her boyfriend's body marked by a black shirt.

"I went to the ophthalmologist and she said I'd have to buy them to wear when I watch TV or use the laptop. It's nothing serious, just a slight degree of astigmatism".

Y/n just agrees in silence, still lowering her eyes to Thomas's body, who watches her every move with a little sideways smile.

"Do you like them?" Thomas asked

She wasn't sure if it was the effect of the wine they'd had at dinner; the dark atmosphere with only the living room lights on or how her boyfriend's curls perfectly matched his glasses. What she did know was that she needed him as if she had never been touched before. 

In one swift action, Y/n stands up in readiness, unbuttons his pants and throws them on the floor. Then her blouse is also discarded like a piece of paper. His heart, which once beat in his chest, was now between his legs, and urgently needed attention. 

"You said you weren't in the-," Thomas tries to say, but is cut off.

"Don't ask questions, Holland, just take off your clothes now." Y/n says with need in her voice.

Thomas stands up at the same speed as his girlfriend, taking one of his hands to remove his glasses.

"No, no. The glasses stay on." Y/n warns, causing an outburst of laughter from the actor.

"Did they get you like this?" Holland asks, pressing his body to his lover's, feeling his chest heave with desire. "My princess" He touches her face, guiding his thumb to the center of Y/n's pink lips. "If I had known they were going to have you like this, I would have used them sooner"

"Thomas, less talk and more action."

[ashe-smash]

Baby Talk | Chapter 1: Conception Ao3

Piccolo x Reader

Tags/ CW: Infertility, Themes of Infertility Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Alien/Human Relationships, Namekian Biology, Piccolo has a Diccolo (Later Chapters) Oviposition, Breeding Kink, Pregnancy, Alien Pregnancy.

Word Count: ~2.4K

Summary: You’ve known Piccolo and you reproduce differently since the beginning of your relationship- before you were ever really dating. You thought it was fine until it’s not. Piccolo and Reader have to navigate their reproductive incompatibility. (Aka Writer takes some significant liberties with Namekian biology)

Big thanks to @ginrastandsby for beta-ing and the DB reader discord for support with my fics ! 🫶

FYI, this it technically in canon with another wip. I consider them the same Reader Character- for context 1) Reader is a childhood friend of Videl, shes Pan’s godmother. 2) Piccolo and Reader can have sex. He had an “appendage” that’s sheathes thats similar to a penis. It produces lubrication, but no genetic material/ sperm.

Piccolo stares at your sleeping form. He knows you don’t like it, but he’s feeling things he’s not quite sure how to process. It’s not like he needs sleep like you, so maybe if the Namekian stares long enough the puzzle will piece itself together. 

Eventually you rouse from it, mumbling a reminder and beckoning him to join you under the warmth of your comforter. Ready to drift back asleep. He usually lies with you, meditating until you wake but he doesn’t feel like joining you right this moment. 

“You want a baby.” Piccolo says flatly. It’s not a question, because he knows it’s true. He hadn’t been trying to eavesdrop on you or anything, he simply has very good hearing. Chatting with an old friend who’d just had a baby during a chance encounter earlier that day. Something about you wanting one of your own if the cards were ever right for you. 

You’re much more awake now. “This isn’t a middle of the night conversation Piccolo.” 

Piccolo knows that, he thinks. Navigating a relationship is new for the Namekian, while he’s been friends or allies with earthlings for two decades- most of his life- this is his first romantic and physical one. 

But he knows he loves you. It feels a little foreign, unlike his love for Gohan or Videl and Pan and maybe that’s why this bothers him. He can’t even place the feelings he is having now: he’s not angry, he knows anger, he’s not scared- this seems a little silly to be scared over? Worried. He thinks he’s worried. 

Piccolo touches his throat, it’s almost absentminded. “I can't … do that.” 

“I know.” You sigh. Not disappointedly, he thinks. You’re just tired. “Lo I don’t know why we’re having this conversation.” He’s not quite sure why either. It’s just bugging him and he’s not used to that.  

You huff, a little grumpy at being woken up. He acquiesces and crawls into the blankets with you, attempting to appease his slight of having woken you up. You curl up at his side, body warm with sleep. Piccolo always runs on the cooler side, not warm blooded like humans. You change that tucked into his side. “Can we talk about this in the morning?” 

When you do fall asleep, it’s restless. Even in the deepest parts of meditation he can tell you aren’t sleeping well. You can’t seem to get comfortable, nor does it seem you ever fully fall asleep.Eventually when the morning is still silver blue, you give up and wake yourself up. “You know, there are human men that couldn’t give me a baby right?” 

“I don’t … want you to do… that.” 

“I don’t want that either. I mean, even if we can’t have a baby together it doesn’t change the way I feel about you. Even if I want a baby, I still love you.” 

He turns his head and kisses the palm you tucked against the side of his face. You love him regardless, even if he can’t give you it. 

You eventually roll onto your stomach to look at him.“Is it even something you want.” 

For him, it feels very complicated. Very few Namekians ever reproduce. He thinks it sounds horrific. Not to mention his own relationship with his own father- or lack there of adds another layer of complexity. 

You having your own child through whatever alternative ways would just mean there would be another human in his life that he would eventually outlive. However, he doesn’t want to take that away from you. 

The two of you are reproductively incompatible. Technically, you’re both the egg bearers. Sex is only possible because Namekians still have vestigial appendages that are similar to penises. 

“I don’t know.” 

If he slept maybe he’d dream of it. Silence hangs in the air between you two. If his hearing wasn’t so good, he might think you were sleeping again. 

“Are you sad?” 

You take a deep breath before answering, which almost is an answer in itself. “A little bit, yeah. I knew you couldn’t- we couldn’t … do that since we first slept together. But I guess it feels different when we actually talk about it.” 

You curl yourself back up to his side. “Do you want to go back to sleep?” 

You nod. “You can go meditate outside if you want.” 

He usually does around this time in the morning while you sleep in. Piccolo shakes his head. He thinks he’d rather stay here with you. 

He has a feeling this topic is only shelved for later.  It’s not like you’re going to stop wanting it, even if you also love him. He wishes it was simpler, at least for your sake. 

At least you sleep a little more peacefully after that. 

… 

It’s a few days later when Pan is over that it comes back up again. The two of them are training and you’re sitting under the big tree outside your home. Usually you’d sit in your office to work, but it seems there’s been a bit of unspoken clinginess between the two of you. Luckily you already work from home and can work from almost anywhere as long as you have your laptop. 

“Pico, why is Auntie crying?” 

Piccolo turns his head to see you slip back into your shared home. He doesn’t see your face though. 

Piccolo ruffles a hand through Pan’s hair. “Go take a lap, I’ll make sure Auntie is okay.” 

You’re in the kitchen and you duck your head so he can’t see your face. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m fine. I just-“ Your voice cracks, betraying your words. “Just need a minute.” 

“Why are you crying?” He steps up behind you, but he’s not sure if he should touch. 

You shrug. “It’s fine. Go- Go train with Pan.” 

“She’s worried about you.” Maybe it’s a little cruel to play that card but if it will get you to tell him what’s wrong. When a fresh wave of tears starts, Piccolo can’t stand it anymore and tucks you against his chest. Wraps an arm around your crossed arms. 

“It’s awful and I feel guilty for feeling it.” You sob. 

This is the worst part- when he doesn’t know what to do. Usually you’re there to help guide him through it, but that’s wildly inappropriate at this moment. 

“Deep breath, please.” It’s shaky but you manage it. He lets you take another one too. “I’ve heard some pretty awful stuff, I doubt you could say anything as bad.” He strokes your cheek with the back of his fingers. 

“It feels mean to say to you, Lo.” 

“Do you intend to hurt me with it?” You shake your head. “Then please tell me so I can understand?” 

“Pan’s an only child…” He’s aware of that fact. You take another deep breath. “T-that’s fine, I just… I always figured it’d be okay cause she’d have a cousin or two eventually.” 

Goten’s still pretty young- by the time he might have kids, Pan will probably be a teenager… Oh. “Because you thought you’d have kids?” 

He’d never thought about it. He’s technically an only child, Gohan and Goten are far apart in age- at least Goten has Trunks to play around with. Bulla and Pan are close enough in age but that hardly means anything. 

You want to give her a playmate. 

It makes sense. The two of you love Pan more than anything, probably more than each other. 

“I'm sorry.” You say wetly. “I’m not trying to guilt you or anything…  I’m just sad about it.” 

“What can I do for you?” 

“I really just needed a minute, Big Guy.” You squeeze at an arm that’s wrapped around you. “I think I might go lie down for a little bit?” 

He holds you for another minute then lets you go upstairs. He waits until he hears you get into the bed before he leaves

When Piccolo comes back outside, Pan is sitting in the grass poking at a bug. She’s more like her dad than one would first believe by looking at her. “Why was Auntie crying, Piccolo?” 

“She’s sad, bud.” 

“Are you getting a divorce?” 

“What? No, where did you even hear that?” Technically, the two of you aren’t even married. Can he even legally get married? 

“One of my friends at school’s mom and dad are getting a divorce. Her mom is very sad when I see her.” 

Oh, that makes sense. 

“We had a grownup conversation recently and it made Auntie sad.” It’s hard because Piccolo can’t exactly talk to her about the truth. 

“When Daddy makes Mom upset, he buys her chocolates and flowers! You should do that Picco!”

“Yeah? Auntie’s laying down right now, think we should go get her something to cheer her up?” 

Pan nods enthusiastically. She hops up to take off to fly towards the nearest store. Piccolo glances back at your home before he takes off to join her. Hopefully you’ll be alright for a little bit by yourself. 

…

It seems fine at first. Piccolo has an armful of treats (all picked out by Pan). She’s not worried anymore, eager to help Piccolo “fix” your sour mood. 

Until they walk straight in front of the baby section. Rows and rows of pastel baby clothes. Bottles and pacifiers line the adjacent walls of the section. 

Something curdles in Piccolo’s stomach. He’s assumed he’s been feeling this way because you’re feeling sad and upset about this. Maybe he does want a baby? As bad as you do. Especially with the realization that yours and his baby would grow up with Pan. 

Pan tugs on his gi. “What’s wrong, Piccolo?” 

He blinks. “Just thinking that Auntie’s up by now.” He shrugs the arm holding all of the snacks Pan picked out. “Do you think this is enough?” 

It’s a bit early for him to be dropping off Pan but he feels it’s necessary.  Videl seems a little concerned but mostly just surprised. He assures her that something just came up. He’ll make it up to Pan another day. Maybe you and him can take her out for a fun outing when you’re in better spirits. 

He takes the plastic baggie of snacks and heads home. 

You’re still lying down when he returns. Laying on your stomach, face practically smothered in the pillow- he really hates when you sleep like this. Based on your breathing, you’re not quite sleeping but not quite awake. 

He crawls on top of you being careful to not put all his weight on you, but enough. You once told him about weighted blankets- that it’s comforting to have the extra pressure sometimes.

“I wish I could give you a baby.” 

“We could.” You mumble. Your voice is scratchy from sleep and crying, probably. 

The Dragon Balls? So you two could have a baby together? It feels ironic that Piccolo hadn’t thought of that. It’d be relatively easy- Bulma keeps them constantly collected and protected to be used if needed. 

He lets you turn over but he doesn’t get off of you, his head resting on your belly. “Do you really want to do that?” 

You shrug. “What if they were needed for something… more important?” ‘Something more important’ goes unsaid. Piccolo nods. That would be an awful thing for your baby to have over their head their whole lives. 

“If you really wanted… what’s it called when another man fathers a child for someone who can’t?” 

“Donor?” 

“If you really wanted it… you could do that.” Piccolo really doesn’t like that. He’d love your child because they’re part of you but he’d still struggle. 

“I… I want your baby, Lo.” You pout. “It’s selfish but I want you to get me pregnant and I want to have your baby. I know it’s unrealistic to want that but I do.” 

“But we can’t do that and we can’t… make it happen other ways… So?” 

You turn your face away. “I guess we just …don’t.” 

He rubs your hip, he hates that you’re sad and he can’t really do anything about it. “You’re still sad about it though, right?” 

“I might always be sad about it, Piccolo.” You sigh. “But we have Pan.” 

He nods. “We have Pan.” 

“And I love you. You know that right?” 

Of course he does. It’d be awkward because the two of you are so interconnected in your lives but if you didn’t want to be with him anymore- he’d understand if you left him. Being with a man who looks like an alien has been quite the adjustment. 

“Please don’t cry again.”  He points to the bag of acquired goodies. It’s set on the edge of the bed, but he doesn’t move away from you to actually retrieve it. “Pan picked you out snacks.” 

“Yeah? That’s where you went?” You giggle, a little forced but it lifts the mood. “Can I eat them in bed?” 

Piccolo grimaces. He takes the sanctity of your bed very seriously, you sleep there after all. “... If you really want to.” That makes you laugh a little more genuinely. 

Ultimately you decide to go eat your snacks downstairs during a movie. Snacks for dinner, though Piccolo will insist you eat something more substantial. You think maybe you’ll entice him into a warm bath later. 

Your phone buzzes: 

>> (Del) Pan said you were upset earlier? Everything alright?? 

You expected this. Pan’s still little and likely can’t keep a “secret” especially from her mother. 

Truth be told, Videl and Gohan have been far too involved in your relationship with Piccolo. Sure, they are your respective best friends- Videl is the reason you’re together. 

The first time you two had a serious argument, the married couple seriously meddled into getting you to talk to Piccolo again- even though you both really just needed some time to cool off. You know they were just trying to help but you don’t need that now. 

You sneakily snap a pic of your partner. He’s sitting with your feet in his lap, holding a plate of your treats so they don’t spill while you’re texting. 

>> (You) Just having a hard day. Nothing >> Sorry Piccolo brought Pan home early. 

Maybe someday they’ll be told. Perhaps you’ll sob to Videl after one too many glasses of wine on your rare Girls Nights or Piccolo will confide in Gohan about it. 

But for now it can just be between you and him. You’ll have to get used to that now, after all.

[gabrielsbubblegumbitch]

got any silly voxval headcannons? (Maybe velvette too idk)

like for example who cooks out of the three of them

Of course you can <3 I'm a really angsty girlie so I don't know how silly they actually are but there you go:

None of them can cook, but that's not really a problem for Vox and Velvette. Vox could survive on plain bread and black coffee for eternity, while Velvette could eat only candies. Val, on the other hand, is the ultimate hedonist. He's all about the tasty, full-fat fast food or gourmet stuff, and he's always pushing for takeout. Come on, guys, we're fucking rich, let's order something. Sure, they could hire someone to cook for them, but Vox is too paranoid to let an outsider near their food. He's still on the hunt for a chef who can match Val's extravagant tastes and is willing to sign off soul. If they had to pick someone to cook, Vox would probably be the best bet since he's the only one who can actually follow a recipe.

Velvette is the smartest when it comes to managing finances. Vox technically doesn't like to waste money but he has a taste for luxurious stuff, he can't resist an expensive car, fucking show-off. Valentino basically burns money on every useless shit he likes, I bet those crystals he badazzled his gun with were real diamons.

Velvette helps Val maintain his fluff, and he styles her hair. It's a cute little trade-off they've got going on.

Valentino has a habit of breaking electronic devices and downloading malware. Vox hates him for it.

Vox can easily go 72h without sleep, fueled by coke and rage. Valentino occasionally drugs his coffee to put him down to sleep, because after 68th hour all electronics in the tower starts malfunctioning.

Val used to be a full-time performer, but now he's more like a RuPaul—lending his face to the brand and only occasionally gracing the stage. But every time he does perform, Vox makes sure to be there front and center.

Their schedules are very incompatible and they have to spend a lot of time managing their businesses but they have weekly appointments to do catch up and discuss strategy. Those are usually very unserious, they end up hitting the bong and playing Mario Cart.

There was this one time Vox tried hitting on Velvette because she's totally his type. It was awkward as hell, and they both agreed to never speak of it again. Valentino has no idea about it.

Valentino would really want to have a dog but Vox really likes dogs so he doesn't allow him to get one by imposing strict anti-pet policy in the tower.

Val knows all of Vox's and Velvette's kinks and sometimes produces custom porn for them as gifts.

As much as they love spending time together, Val and Velvette can't stand watching TV with Vox because he gets overly emotional and doesn't allow to skip commercials because he enjoys them

Vox occasionally invites Val to be a guest judge on reality shows, which always skyrockets ratings but sometimes ends nasty for the contestants.

Val's obsessed with textures, especially nice fabrics. Give him a nice fluffy blanket and he will shut up for 15 minutes fixated on touching it.

Vox, with his business and strategic management degree, sometimes tries to pitch these ideas to Velvette and Valentino, he's like Guys, have you considered using the BCG matrix? Ever heard of SWOT analysis? We should discuss KPIs. They mock him relentlessly for it.

Val once tried putting drag makeup on Vox's face, and let's just say the result was... less than glamorous.

During their honeymoon phase, Vox and Val fucked everywhere. At first, Velvette found it amusing, but eventually, she grew to hate it. She finally snapped when she found out they'd fucked on the dinner table and she set it on fire.

Val "secretly" ghostwrote some trashy smut novels (they are absolutely horrible, worst Wattpad shit you could dig out). Vox secretly bought and read every single one, finding plenty of references to himself along the way.

Vox loves it when Val wears stripper platforms, even though it makes their height difference even more ridiculous.

Valentino's wardrobe takes two entire rooms and still expands. Vox doesn't know how to stop it.

Vox owns a few lingerie sets, only because Val loses his fucking mind whenever he wears them. Velvette designed them herself and keeps photos of Vox wearing them as blackmail material, just in case.

[lovelykhaleesiii]

My Best Girl

HEADCANON

PAIRING: Best Friend's Dad!Aegon ii Targaryen x fem!Reader [Modern AU]

WORDS: 1,200.

SUMMARY: Your best friend from University, had been begging all year long for you to join her back in her home town to spend the holidays with her family. Being the loyal friend you are, you thought it would be the decent thing to do...

WARNINGS: age-gap implies (consensual & legal, reader is 18+, Jahaera aged up), innocence kink, praise kink, degradation kink, Daddy kink, p in v sexual intercourse, edging, cream pie, breeding kink (if you squint), slight dub-con, thigh riding implied, jealous!aegon, possessive!aegon, swearing.

A/N - thanks to the wonderful, talented, beautiful @valeskafics who planted this AU in my head... I have plunged deep into a dilf!Aegon rot. ily bby xx

You had no intention of ever sparking a relationship over the holiday period, let alone with an older man... That just so happened to be your best friend's father.

Jaheara Targaryen, you had fondly grown acquainted with over your undergraduate semesters in University: so enraptured by each other, she practically was begging for you to join her over the holiday period: saving you from spending a lonesome, seldom time alone on campus.

The moment you laid eyes on her beloved father, Aegon Targaryen, you felt your heart beat halt, breath hitched in your throat, and a rather odd yearning ignited between the sweet spot between your thighs.

He was a rather handsome man, you could no deny: his unique features had softened with adipose, yet his age had shown, along with whatever hardships he had faced. Scarring across his brow, beneath his eye socket, and yet he exuded a formidable presence, it somewhat intimidated you.

You struggled to even maintain eye contact, doe eyes constantly fluttering from the larger man before you, to your scuttling feet, before Jahaera dragged you away into the privacy of her own room.

You subtly attempted to pry, asking singular questions about her father, in which Jahaera would mindlessly respond with a swift response.

A divorcee, his relationship with Jahaera's biological mother had been tense from the beginning, incompatible. She did disclose he had many flings, occupied with one night stands and frequented by regular women of the neighbourhood, yet did not dare to settle, for whatever reason.

That is until, you had mindlessly wandered off venturing the opulent double-storey, before abruptly being surprised by Aegon's presence in the kitchen during the later hours of the night.

"And what might a pretty girl like you be doing wandering in the dark, hmm?"

Your mind rushing with fleeting, blank thoughts, moments later you found yourself being effortlessly lifted onto the counter top, rutting your aching, soaked cunt against his sturdy, meaty thigh, before he would taunt and tease your silky folds with his tip. Burying his dense girth inside of you, stretching your walls like no man has ever.

Since that surreal night, awake the next few days as if you lived through a vivid, fever dream: your relationship blossomed with your best friend's father, in discrete.

Aegon relished in how flustered and bothered you get, even with the faintest motions, such as close proximity, his overpowering musky scent intoxicating you with each inhale: making you weak in the knees, and butterflies fluttering in the pit of your stomach.

Regardless, of the age difference you both shared similar interests in films, attitudes and romance.

Aegon devoured your innocence: despite having been in previous relationships, your innocence in trusting him to take the lead, to protect you and be intimate with you, reinforced his belief in you.

He took you seriously from the beginning: having the decency to not treat you like some mindless, young fling.

Your vulnerability towards him, drove him mad: as he felt a responsibility towards you.

In return, you favored his wisdom, with life and in the bed. He taught you how to really please a man.

He would often praise you: admiring your beauty, your intelligence and demeanor. Although, in the end he was somewhat of a youth, relishing in teasing you, making logic cease as he fucked you senseless.

"My good, little whore so greedy for a Daddy, she took her best friend's, huh? Daddy's gonna have to punish you for that little stunt. Thinking you can come in here looking fucking ravenous."

Regardless of Aegon's intent to care, his sex and affections were rough. Manhandling you, spanking you till your cheeks remained red and raw with tenderness for days [certain his handprint was strewn across your flesh], gripping and pulling your hair with such force. He needed to instil some fear, a mutual understanding as he preferred to call it, that you could not go anywhere now without his knowledge.

When you both weren’t being intimate, he enjoyed our company, having you mount and straddle his thigh and lap. Watching him attend to work, answering phone calls, getting so riled up when he was arguing with his correspondents. You had come to realise, Aegon had a rather quick and fierce temper.

Many times, Jaehaera pleaded and fought with her father to take you out to the local city clubs both in the company of her hometown friend [males present] and without, and time after time, he stubbornly denied the two of you from leaving the premises.

Overtime, he refused the idea of you having male companions and friends.

“I know what boys are like at that age baby, they don’t want to be just friends… You’re mine now, and I don’t like to share.”

Jahaera frustrated and uncertain of his motive would excuse herself, and recluse in her room, leaving you pampered and dolled up for Aegon's own undoing.

He enjoyed watching you from afar pampering yourself: "dolling yourself up for Daddy, baby? Always lookin' so beautiful, I need to keep you running around her for my own viewing."

The moment the word slipped your vile tongue, was the moment something snapped in Aegon, that made him cement his feelings for you... Daddy.

He favored the moment, demanding you obey his every command, moaning heavy breaths for you to repeat yourself in a constant loop, directly into his ear.

He wanted you to acknowledge him as almost your savior. Considering him almost god-like which, you faintly had.

Another niche about your elder boyfriend: he purely enjoyed in fucking you raw, no protection, as he craved to feel you.

"Baby this ain't my first rodeo, I'll pull out okay. I'll get you the pill if I have to--"

"Good cause I still have two years to go, and I don't think J-Jahaera would appreciate this-"

"But your already such a slut for me, taking me so fucking well and perfect, she brought you on a platter for me, knowing damn well I couldn't resist... Surely?!"

Regardless, Aegon's attempts at hiding the affair would occasionally plunder: sending you "anonymous" gifts through the mail, of wealthy jewels, the finest material of laundrette and perfumes.

Countless times Jahaera poorly attempted to pry the truth from your sealed lips: she knew that you were seeing someone, just not who...

When it came to returning to campus: you would often exchange raunchy pictures: Aegon was poorly tech-savy in comparison to you: so a dick pic and video at most, was all he could provide.

You however, thrived off online. Sending him nude pics of yourself [this was a first], only to be showered with compliments, before Aegon would request to video call you: jerking himself feverishly as he ached to feel your tight walls swallowing his dick.

You nearly got caught by Jahaera, lurking his social media and the texts, before coming up with a reasonable excuse.

You would be the first to say "I love you" hesitant and all, Aegon however, had no shame to admit it. The words fell naturally off of his plump lips.

And so, Aegon's intent with you surpassed the theatrics of his previous licentious behaviours. He is obsessed with you!

general taglist - @chompchompluke @fan-goddess @malfoytargaryen @bibli0thecary @m1ndbrand @connorsui @elegantsplendour @randomdragonfires @sylasthegrim @arcielee @s-we-e-t-t-ea @sahvlren @watercolorskyy @hypnos-daughter-certified @urmomsgirlfriend1 @backyardfolklore @snowprincesa1 @aegonslawyer

Aegon ii taglist - @who-told-you-this-was-butter @f4ll-for-you @amiraisgoingthruit @jawline-of-steel @daughter-of-the-stars11

[deepinsideyourbeing]

Necesito saber cómo creés que sería Enzo en el sexo. Aspectos generales, gustos, kinks, si gime, etc.

Gracias por la investigación de mercado jajaja

+18!

-NSFW ALPHABET-

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Le gusta masajear tu espalda, tus brazos o cualquier parte de tu cuerpo hasta que recobrás el aliento y podés beber el agua que te ofrece, luego te acompaña hasta el baño y de ser necesario entra en la ducha para ayudarte y/o acompañarte (y más...). Siempre tiene a mano algún snack o prepara algo para comer y ambos lo disfrutan mientras ven alguna película o acurrucados.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

A Enzo le gustan sus manos pero sólo porque adora cómo se ven sobre tu cuerpo. Le gusta ver el contraste cuando sujeta tus muñecas sobre tu cabeza, mientras acaricia tus pechos o tu cadera, cuando sus dedos aprisionan tu garganta o tu cara.

Tiene un punto débil cuando se trata de tu boca y tu lengua, tus muslos y la curva de tu abdomen donde siempre coloca sus manos. Son sus lugares favoritos para marcarte con su semen y eso nos lleva a...

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Hiperespermia, nada más que agregar.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Un poquito de CNC y polaroids comprometedoras en su billetera. Adora someterte y saber que si no cooperás puede amenazarte con enseñar a sus amigos y conocidos las imágenes que tomó cuando eras un desastre, en las cuales se aprecia tu expresión de satisfacción y los fluidos que manchan tu rostro y cuerpo.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Suele decir que no tiene mucha experiencia y tal vez sea cierto, pero no es impedimento alguno para que sus dedos, su lengua y su miembro te brinden los orgasmos más intensos que tuviste en toda tu vida. Siempre está dispuesto a probar cosas nuevas, es un firme creyente de que uno no debe dejar de educarse.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Missionary, vainilla pero romántico como a él le gusta. Le encanta poder ver tu rostro mientras te da placer, la forma en que tus pechos se mueven con cada una de sus estocadas y besarte cuando se desespera porque siente tu interior muy apretado y muy caliente :)

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Es bastante serio y jamás pierde la concentración, prefiere mantenerse atento a tus reacciones para actuar rápidamente en caso de que algo te genere incomodidad o te haga sentir abrumada.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Siempre mantiene el vello corto y prolijo, pero cuando se depila por completo su miembro parece todavía más grande y la imagen por sí misma te hace delirar.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Enzo es muy romántico, le gusta tenerte lo más cerca posible en todo momento para besarte y abrazarte con fuerza. Si está arriba tuyo siempre va a reposar su frente en la tuya y mirarte con una intensidad casi abrasadora, todo mientras te retorcés de placer debido a sus movimientos.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Las polaroid en su billetera y algún que otro video que guarda en una carpeta oculta en su celular son lo único que puede utilizar para masturbarse cuando no te tiene cerca. Está obsesionado con vos y con tu cuerpo y al pasar tanto tiempo en el set de rodaje y en zonas horarias incompatibles no tiene otra opción.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Breeding kink porque es posesivo y le encanta marcarte de esa forma. Además disfruta ver la forma en que su semen escapa de tu entrada antes de -ignorando tus quejidos- empujarlo hacia dentro con sus dedos.

Cockwarming si está demasiado cansado y decidís ser caprichosa. Te ordena quedarte quieta mientras sentís cómo palpita entre tus paredes, muy de vez en cuando sujetando tu cadera para moverte lentamente, y sólo cuando le rogás entre lágrimas te permite hacer el trabajo.

Dacrifilia... No puede evitarlo, sos demasiado tierna cuando llorás y adora ver la forma en que tus labios tiemblan o las lágrimas corriendo por tus mejillas.

Daddy kink. (Controversial pero...) Cada vez que tu voz entrecortada pronuncia esa palabra y tus ojos suplican por más, tiene que hacer un gran esfuerzo para poder controlar la fuerza que utiliza para manipular tu cuerpo -que está enteramente a su disposición-.

Finger-sucking porque además de ser la única forma que tiene a veces para mantenerte callada, también le gusta ver cómo cerrás los ojos y simulás que lo que está entre tus labios es otra parte de su anatomía.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Nada se compara con la comodidad de su cama o el sofá de la sala, pero puede que surja la ocasión en que no resiste y te sienta sobre la mesa o el mármol para poder tener fácil acceso a tu entrada. No vamos a hablar del asiento trasero del auto o el parque.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Todo tu ser lo excita, pero le cuesta contenerse cuando lo sentás en la cama para enseñarle alguna prenda nueva o la lencería que acaba de llegarte por correo.

Tiene un pequeño problema con la particular forma en que comés helado y se niega a tener citas si implican permanecer dentro de una heladería.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

No le gusta incorporar ningún elemento si cree que tienen el potencial de herirte verdaderamente, por lo que el knife play y objetos como látigos o nipple clamps quedan descartados por completo.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Ama pasar horas entre tus piernas, succionar tu clítoris o acariciar tus pliegues y tu entrada con su lengua hasta volverte loca. También le fascina ver cómo besás su miembro y la forma en que tu lengua lo recorre o forzarte a tomar toda su extensión y hacer que te ahogues cuando golpea tu garganta una y otra vez ♡

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Un pequeño drabble dedicado a este punto ♡

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Le gusta tomarse todo el tiempo del mundo cuando se trata de darte placer, pero si están más desesperados de lo usual no va a dudar en arrastrarte hasta la superficie más cercana o hacia algún escondite.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Un poquito más de hiperespermia (qué linda palabra).

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Bajo la cama tienen una caja llena de juguetes, todos en tu color favorito: un pequeño vibrador, dildos de diferentes tamaños, butt plugs, collares, correas, cuerdas para shibari, antifaces, cock rings y más.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Enzo no oculta sus gemidos y siempre se encarga de hacerte saber lo bien que lo hacés sentir, ya sea con sonidos o con palabras de aliento similares a las que repite cuando es él quien te lleva hacia el orgasmo. Cuando estás moviéndote sobre su cuerpo le es imposible contener sus suspiros y jadeos o maldiciones.

Me comí un par de letras pero sé que Enzo me va a perdonar y ustedes también 😌❤️

[gurugirl]

hear me out, i have an idea for a fic but i always think i will be judged for it but i think you wont

basically reaaaaaaaally rich harry is married and he loves his wife but they are extremely incompatible sexually because he has huge sex drive, loves trying new things, is very dom looooooves doing a girl's ass and marking her up and choking, using ropes and all that shit. and his wife very meh with ir comes to sex

so she suggests he finds someone to do all these sexual stuff he needs and he is hesitand at first because he loves her but he ends up agreeing, so maybe she suggests some assistant from her company or he finds her on a datting app because his wife doesnt want to know who she is so he ends up finding cute uni student yn who becomes his suggar baby and checks all his boxes with being subby, having the same kinks and is basically horny 24/7

at first they set for meeting at a hotels but after a while gets tired of it after bumping on someone he knows and having to make up an excuse on why he was there, and he hates her flatmates and how they stare after he goes there for a fuck. so he ends up moving her to this london penthouse or house he owns because he is an achtecht or owns a luxury real estate firm. and the condition and that she always has to wear only lingerie or be naked around the house so he can come get what he wants and them leave for his wife (even when she is asleep they have an aggrement that he can start fucking her without waking her up)

but anyways he is not completely emmotionless and he does have a soft spot or her but he loves his wife

but at some point they end up getting divorce because she doesnt want kids or found someone else or something so its finally yns turn

okay anon who requested this.... i've been writing and this one shot is being worked on very seriously. i've gotten about 5k words down and it's taking shape nicely. I don't know if I'll be able to get it out next week but expect something soon. I've taken some liberties and made it a little different than your exact request but the most important elements are still there and I have a feeling you'll like it.

I know this request has been sitting for quite a long time but I'm on it now (slowly getting through all of my requests as i have A LOT of them).

Just wanted you to know I'm working on it and to expect something coming soon. LINK TO PART 1

[pigeonxp]

im truly just so sick and tired of the jokes tommy makes towards buck its just so weird from the closet joke, to the "enjoy it while it lasts" to the daddy kink joke (after calling him "kid" previously) its all just so weird and it rly displays how incompatible they are