#or when there's flip flop tag but they barely flip flop

[planetaryupscaled]

Honeymoon 2: Afterday

Male Reader x Yunjin x Somi

Tags: 6k, anal, creampie, food play, gxg, oral, threesome

The story is not ours; we simply alter the original story to our preferred settings

I laid in bed with thoughts of the previous night dancing in my head. The image of Somi’s face screaming out in bliss as she came played on repeat in my mind. I was in a very peaceful and erotic sleep when all of a sudden, I was awoken by the feeling of someone jumping on top of me.

“Babe, wake up!” I heard Yunjin yell. I slowly opened my eyes to see a smiling Yunjin looking down on me. “Morning!”

“What time is it?” I asked still groggy and tired from the previous day.

“Just after eleven. You missed breakfast.” Yunjin stayed straddling my lap over the sheets. She was dressed in just a pair of loose shorts and a tank top.

“Sorry about that, hope you didn’t mind eating alone,” I told her as I closed my eyes and rubbed my hand back and forth along her bare leg.

“I wasn’t alone, I ran into Somi down there and ate with her.” That snapped me out of my morning haze.

“Somi?”

“Yeah, I saw here entering the dining area when I was at the omelet bar, so we sat together. She was telling me about this secret nude beach the hotel has up the road. I told her we’d go with her today.” I tried to hide the mini panic attack I was having at this news. I had no clue what Somi was up to. Did she just enjoying toying with me in front of Yunjin, or was she out to destroy my relationship? I didn’t know how I’d be able to control myself around Somi at a nude beach since in the last 24 hours she’d already gotten me to cheat on my new wife twice.

“Really? I was thinking we could just relax in the room today. You know, take a bath together in the tub. Maybe do that thing we were walking about with the whipped cream and chocolate sauce,” I then moved her off me. “Though first I think maybe we should do something about this.” I lifted off the sheet and exposed my dick to the sunlight.

“Maybe I should leave you two alone to take care of that,” another woman said, “Unless you want some help.” Looking to the doorway, there was Somi leaning against the doorframe smiling while looking at me and Yunjin on the bed. She was dressed in a bikini top, a sarong, and flip flops.

“Oh shit!” I said in surprise and quickly pulled the bed sheet back up to hide my nakedness.

“Yeah, I probably should have mentioned that I invited her up with me,” Yunjin laughed at my shock.

“It’s not that big a deal Minho, I was going to see it anyway at the nude beach,” Somi chuckled and gave me a wicked grin. “How about I just meet you guys downstairs in an hour?”

“Sounds good,” Yunjin agreed.

“Okay. Bye, Minho. Or should I say, big dick Minho.” Somi giggled before turning and leaving.

“I think she likes you,” Yunjin said before leaning down and began kissing the side of my face and neck.

“Yunjin are you sure about this whole nude beach thing? And going with her? Wouldn’t it be better if we just stayed here together?”

“Come on, I really want to go. Somi made it sound like fun and it’s totally private. Her company sent her and the rest of the staff here before her next tour, and a bunch of them went, and no photos of any of them or anything ever came out. I can’t even imagine that kind of freedom.” Yunjin continued to kiss her way down my body. “How about you think it over, and while you do that, I take care of you?”

She removed the bed sheet and slipped off her shorts. Quickly she was back to straddling my lap this time there was nothing between our privates. Yunjin rubbed her lips up and down along my shaft which was pressed up against my stomach before raising up and lowering herself down onto my cock. It felt amazing having Yunjin ride me again but as I watched her, my mind was also flashing back to last night and the prospect of watching Somi run naked through the ocean waves.

“I love you,” Yunjin told me as she leaned over me

“I love you too,” I told her and we kissed. I closed my eyes as I felt her tongue slid into my mouth. We made out tenderly. However, with my eyes closed, I was now picturing a wet naked Somi emerging from the water and jogging in slow motion towards me.

“God Som… you feel amazing,” I said as we broke off our kiss, almost saying Somi’s name by mistake. I spun us over so Yunjin was on her back and we fucked in missionary position. We kept humping one another, Yunjin wrapped her arms and legs around me. She made me keep eye contact with her until she finally came on my cock. Watching her beautiful face contort as she came set me off. I quickly pulled out just before I came. Splashing her pussy lips with my cum.

Yunjin reminded me that we needed to get ready to meet Somi down in the lobby. I took a quick shower and threw on a t-shirt and a pair of shorts. Yunjin was dressed similarly to the way Somi was earlier, with a bikini, a sarong, and sandals. She grabbed her beach bag with our towels and stuff as we headed out.

“Are you sure about this?” I asked Yunjin as we rode down the elevator.

“Yes, I’ve never been to a nude beach before. I always had to worry about paparazzi showing up or someone else taking pictures. Why are you not more excited about this? You’re about to spend an afternoon on a tropical beach with a naked me and Somi. I’m pretty sure there are millions of men out there who would literally kill to be in your place.” Yeah, she was right. I needed to relax and somewhat enjoy today. Or at least pretend to, so I didn’t make Yunjin suspicious of anything.

“Yeah I know, I just wanted to make sure you’re cool with this.” The elevator doors then open and we stepped out. Somi was in the lobby dressed the same as before, only now she had a big bag similar to Yunjin’s as well. Somi already had a car waiting outside to take us to the private cove where the beach is. The ride was only about 5 minutes before we were let off at dirt lot that was surrounded by trees. Yunjin and I followed Somi as we walked on a path between the trees that led to a set of stairs that which went down to the beach of the secluded cove. Somi had said that this nude beach was pretty private, and she was right. The place was still on resort property, the opening to the cove was roped off so boats and jet skis could not come in, and unless you were with someone who knew where the beach was it was doubtful anyone would ever find it. As we walked down the stairs, I could see a couple dozen people were also at the beach. A number of which seemed to be couples of various ages, there was a group of 7 or 10 college-age girls and several guys who seemed to be alone and just there to check out the women.

As we got down to the beach, Somi and Yunjin went to find us a clear spot while I went over to where they were renting out beach chairs and got one for myself. As I walked back over, I noticed some of the single men watching Yunjin and Somi lay out their beach towels. After I put my chair down in the sand, I tossed my phone and wallet into a beach bag and took off my shirt.

“Wow, somebody got kind of kinky last night,” Somi said, referring to the hickies Yunjin had made on my neck and collar bone. Though at least two of them had been made by Somi herself.

“Yeah, I guess I got a little carried away last night,” Yunjin said.

“You don’t remember doing it?” Somi asked while taking off her top and exposing her breasts.

“No, I was pretty drunk by the end of the night,” Yunjin replied. She then looked around and took a deep breath before taking off her top as well. The two women then dropped their sarongs and bikini bottoms and stood totally naked on the beach except for their sunglasses. “Alright Minho, your turn.”

I grabbed the waistband of my shorts and got ready to push them down, but right as I was about to drop them, I watched as Somi spun around and bent over to get something out of her bag. Of course, she kept her legs perfectly straight as she bent over giving me a great view of her ass and her pussy peeking out underneath. As I pushed my shorts down, I prayed for God to give me the strength not to break down and fuck Somi right here on the beach. When she finally stood up, she had a bottle of sunscreen in her hands. I couldn’t help myself from getting rock hard as I watched Yunjin and Somi rubbed their bodies down with the lotion.

“Stop staring and put on some sunscreen,” Yunjin said while throwing the bottle at me.

“And remember at a certain point you’re no longer applying lotion, you’re just playing with yourself,” Somi teased as Yunjin started applying sunscreen to her back. I laughed, though when it did come time to put lotion on my crotch, I could not help but give my meat a couple of extra strokes.

Over the next two hours, the three of us enjoyed ourselves and the beach. The girls sunned themselves on the beach and I tried to do some reading, though could not help but check out the two ladies. I found myself sitting in my chair comparing the two women’s bodies.

Both had dark areolas, but while Yunjin’s nipples were nubs, Somi’s were more like pencil erasers that stuck out. Both had completely shaved their pussies, Yunjin’s was a total innie, while Somi had slightly longer inner lips that stuck out a bit. Somi had a nicer ass and toner legs. As much of a distraction as they were on the beach, in the water they were not better. Yunjin and I made out some and fondled me, but we also played around with Somi a bit. Just the usual kind of horseplay with dunking one another under the water and me tossing the girls a bit. This led to some purposeful groping by Yunjin and some “accidental” touching by Somi. Somi and Yunjin had fair share of guys checking them out and I saw the group of college girls look me over, though no one thought anything of our touching. Somi told us that that kind of stuff was not a big deal. She’d seen far worse at the beach and then pointed to a couple at the far end of the beach who were clearly fucking on a beach chair.

“That kind of thing happens here all the time. I don’t see him here today but there is a local bartender guy at the resort’s dance club. I swear his cock has to be a foot long and all he does during the day is hang out here hoping to bang with one or more girls who are on vacation. He’d be all that group over there,” Somi told us while pointing at the group of college girls as we stood in waist high water. “I remember coming down here for a sunrise yoga session, by the way, Yunjin they do naked yoga here at sunrise every day and you should total try and do it before you leave.”

“Okay, that sounds great.”

“Anyway, I just remember leaving when it was over one morning and watching him just plow two girls on the picnic table over there. When he came it was like a super soaker went off.”

“You and him ever hook up?” I asked.

“No. He’s got a big dick and all but he’s kind of an asshole. He tried hitting on me once, but literally, all he did was walk up to me, shake his dick in my face and ask if I was interested. When I said no, he just walked on to the next attractive girl,” Somi told us. “I’m thirsty, you guys want anything?” Yunjin and I both asked for her to get us water. She then sauntered out of the water, giving an extra wiggle to her ass as she walked. I turned to Yunjin and she wrapped her arms around my neck and gave me a kiss. I kissed her back and moved us back into deeper waters.

“You having a good time?” I asked her.

“Yes,” She gave me another kiss and wrapped her legs around me. Her sex now pressing right up against my erection. I let out a groan as felt her press harder up against me. All the teasing and spending time around these two naked beauties had me hard almost the entire time and it was starting to take its toll on me. “I told Somi to stop her teasing. I can tell it starting to get to you.”

“Thank you, but you know I love you, right?”

“Of course I know that. But you’re only human. If she keeps accidentally rubbing her ass against you and bending over in front of you, I almost wouldn’t blame you if you snap and jam that big dick of yours into her. God knows she’s been asking for it.” Yunjin didn’t know the half of it. While she may have seen some of the touching Somi had done under the water, what she had not seen was earlier when she went to the bathroom Somi basically pounced on my dick and deepthroated me for a blissful two minutes. She sucked my cock hungrily but made sure to stop before she had to worry Yunjin seeing us and before I could have a chance to cum.

“Please, this dick is only for you,” I told my wife and then used my hand to take aim and thrust into her under the water. Yunjin bit her lip to muffle her moan as I pushed my full length between her folds. The two of us just stayed in the ocean like that, with my dick soaking inside her as we kissed and talked lovingly to one another. I gave a few slow and gentle thrust but mostly I just let my cock soak in her pussy as to not draw attention to ourselves. I don’t know how long it would have taken for me to cum from doing that, but I was not given the chance to find out as we were interrupted by Somi yelling at us from the water’s edge that she got us some food. We begrudgingly decoupled and walked back to our beach towels to join Somi for a mid-afternoon snack.

After we ate the girls went back to sunning themselves and I hopped back into my chair and tried to get some reading done. I was finally starting to actually concentrate on my book when I noticed Somi moving around. She had sat up on her elbows and now had her chest up thrusted into the air as she tilted her head all the way back to look at me sitting behind her.

“So… does that thing ever go down?” Somi asked referring to my ever-hard dick.

“I’m hanging out with a pair of the most beautiful women in the world, both of whom are naked, and I haven’t been able to get off. The fact that my dick hasn’t exploded is a borderline miracle,” I half-joked.

“Yeah, I’m going to have to take care of him as soon as we get back to the hotel. I’m starting to feel like we’re torturing him,” Yunjin added

“Why don’t you just take care of him now?” Somi asked.

“What?” Both of us said.

“I told you before, people have sex out here all the time. So just go on and blow him. The poor guy needs it badly,” Somi encouraged her.

“Are you sure?” Yunjin asked. I was going to say she didn’t have to, but it would be really hot to do it, and I was super fucking horny. Yunjin rolled onto her stomach and crawled over to me. With her now on her knees in front of me, she looked up at me and asked, “Do you think I should?”

“I... I can’t answer that. You can’t really expect me to answer whether or not I think you should give me a blow job.” Yunjin looked around to see if anyone was watching, and then started to lean down and go for it.

“Yes, yes,” Somi said excitedly as she got up on her knees and got moved closer to get a good view as Yunjin stuck out her tongue and began licking the head of my cock.

“Kind of salty,” Yunjin said before opening her mouth wide and started going down on my dick. God, her mouth felt amazing. I could not help myself from putting my hand on the back of her head and pushing her head down on my dick.

Normally, I was not the kind of guy who would take hold of Yunjin’s hair and move her head up and down, but I was so desperate to get off I could not help it. Yunjin just put her hands on my thighs and let me bounce her face up and down on my cock.

“Umm yeah, make her suck that big cock.” Somi encouraged me. Looking over to her, Somi was watching us closely, but also sat back on her knees far enough that I could see her fingering herself as she watched. “Fuck that beautiful face.”

“Oh god, Yunjin, your mouth feels so fantastic. I can’t wait to cum, and then get you back to the hotel and just pound that pussy of yours up against the wall,” I told Yunjin as I continued to bounce her head up and down my pole.

“Do it. Cum in her mouth.” Somi moaned while she had on hand work her cunt and another playing with her nipple. “Cum in her mouth, and Yunjin, when he does, don’t swallow. Just collect it in your mouth and then show it to me. I want to see your mouth full of his juice.”

“Oh god,” I moaned. I was close to cumming. My eyes darted back and forth between Yunjin sucking me off and Somi playing with herself. “Shit, uggghhhh,” I grunted as I came, locking eyes with Somi as I came in Yunjin’s mouth. Just like she asked, Yunjin collected as much of my cum in her mouth as she could, though some ran out of the corner of her mouth. Yunjin turned to Somi and opened her mouth to show her my jizz in her mouth. Then something happened that shocked both me and Yunjin. As she opened her mouth, Somi pounced on her. She quickly wrapped her hands around Yunjin and pulled her in for a big open mouth kiss. I watched her shove her tongue into Yunjin’s mouth and saw as the two ladies shared a forceful kiss with my cum passing back and forth between their mouths, some of it ran out of the mouths and down their bodies. Watching this made my dick even harder than it was before the blow job.

Somi eventually let go of Yunjin’s face and she backed off a bit. Yunjin looked completely stunned by what just happened and had no reaction as Somi then sucked off some of the cum that had dribbled down Yunjin’s chest. It was so hot to watch, had I not been so shocked I would have pushed one of them over and started fucking them. It didn’t matter which one.

After that whole display, we all agreed it was time to get back to the hotel. We got dressed quickly, Yunjin called for a car as we walked back up to the parking lot. I was planning on getting in the backseat with Yunjin and Somi for the ride back to the hotel until a Toyota Yaris pulled up to drive us back to the hotel and I was forced to sit in the front passenger seat. Despite being a short ride, it felt like forever. I was dead serious about wanting to fuck Yunjin up against the wall as soon as we got back to the hotel. Behind me, I could hear Yunjin and Somi whispering back and forth and a sudden gasp from Yunjin.

When we got back to the hotel, I took Yunjin’s hand and speed walked through the lobby to get to the elevator. I did not even realize Somi was still with us until we were on the elevator. When the elevator got to our floor, I pulled Yunjin off and we both yelled goodbye to Somi. The two of us practically sprinted to our room.

“Where is your key?” Yunjin asked as we approached the door.

“It’s in my wallet, I threw it into your bag earlier,” I told her. Yunjin dug through her bag as we stood in front of the door.

“I don’t see it, but I found my key,” she said as she pulled it out of her bag and stuck the keycard into the door. She opened the door and I pushed her in. Letting the door close behind us I grabbed her bag and tossed it into the room.

“Remember what I said on the beach about fucking you against the wall?”

“Yeah,” Yunjin replied wrapping her arms around my neck, knowing what was about to happen. I pushed my shorts to the ground and then picked up Yunjin. She wrapped her legs around me and I pulled her bathing suit to the side. We kissed hungrily with open mouths as I pushed her against the wall and jammed my cock into her cunt. I pounded her hard against the wall. Neither of us were saying anything other than moans and grunts as we fucked hard against the wall. At one point my leg buckled a bit but that did not stop us. Yunjin dug her fingers into my back as I regained my balance and I swung her over so that we were no longer banging up against the wall, but instead were up against the hotel door. I could only imagine what the banging and moaning against the door must sound like to people walking in the hallway.

“God babe, your pussy is so fucking wet. You must have really gotten off on giving the blowjob on the beach.”

“Yeah. It was so hot. I couldn’t believe I actually did that. It was so sexy. And then the kiss with Somi afterwards and her fingering me in the car. It was incredible.”

“She fingered you in the car?”

“Yeah. We were talking about the beach. She asked if I got turned on by what happened, and before I could answer she pushed two fingers into me.”

“Holy fuck, that’s so hot. I can’t get that image out of my mind. I’m going to cum soon.”

“Do it babe. Cum for me. I want to feel you cum inside me.”

I kept pounding her cunt until my dick burst inside her. Even though I had just cum less than an hour ago, my cock still erupted with the force and volume as though I hadn’t touched myself in a month. Yunjin came as I continued to cum in her.

After we were done fucking, we retreated to the shower to rinse the sand, salt water, sweat, and in Yunjin’s case, semen, off of each other. Once we were clean Yunjin went to take a nap and I ordered something special to be brought up to the room later tonight before joining her in bed.

I slept for a good two hours and when I woke, I was happy that Yunjin was still asleep so I could set up. I quietly went and pulled out a hidden bag with candles in it. I set them up around the living room and opened the door when room service showed up. They wheeled in a small chocolate fountain, with a bunch of strawberries, a couple of cans of whipped cream, and four bottles of champagne.

When the room was all set up, I went back to the bedroom and woke Yunjin up. She smiled happily as I told her I had a surprise for her. She went to go put some clothes on but I told her she would not need any.

“Oh my God babe, this looks amazing!” she said as she saw what I did with the living room. She gave me a kiss before running over to the chocolate fountain. She dipped a strawberry into the fountain and ate it. “Oh wow, that’s really good,” she said, “Ummm, this is all really sweet and all, but I am starving and I don’t think chocolate covered strawberries are going to be enough.”

“I was the same way earlier, there’s pizza under the skirt of the fountain table.”

“Awesome.” I watched her ass as she bent over in front of me and pulled out the pizza. The two of us ate and drank champagne naked on the couch in a candlelit room. Once the pizza was gone, we moved on to dessert. We started dipping strawberries in chocolate and spraying whipped cream into each other mouths. We were also now on our second bottle of champagne. Of course, the alcohol also led to us dripping some whipped cream and chocolate sauce on to one another, which led to us licking those drips off one another. 20 minutes later we finished off the second bottle, and I had Yunjin laying on her back with chocolate sauce dripped all over her tits and nipples, and whipped cream sprayed all over her pussy. She was moaning I went down on all fours to lick her clean.

I had her breast licked clean and now had legs up in the air as I cleaned her body of whipped cream. We were both totally focused on one another to the point that neither of us heard when our hotel room door opened and closed.

“Oh wow, this looks really romantic.” I didn’t have to turn around to know who was standing behind me.

“Somi you’re here,” Yunjin said as I stopped eating her out and dropped her butt back to the floor. Turning my head I saw Somi standing in the doorway in a romper that had a zipper going down from the collar to the crotch. “Wait, why are you here?”

“Your man left his phone and wallet in my bag so I just wanted to bring it back.” She held them both up and tossed them to me as she walked over the fountain.

“Is that all?”

“Umm-hmm.” She said as she ate a strawberry.

“Oh please,” Yunjin said with her speech slightly slurred from the champagne. She stood up and walked over to Somi. “Just admit that you want to have sex with my husband, or me, or me and my husband, or whatever.” Yunjin dipped her fingers into the chocolate and then took them and pressed them into Somi’s mouth.

“Just admit you came down here looking to have sex,” Somi responded by nodding and sucking Yunjin’s fingers clean. Once she had sucked all the chocolate off of them, she pulled Yunjin’s fingers from her mouth and pulled in Yunjin for a kiss. Unlike the beach, this time it was much softer.

I watched as the two women made out. Somi grabbed a can of whipped cream and sprayed both of Yunjin’s nipples, then bent down and licked the cream off. Once Yunjin’s breast was clean, Somi repeated the act again. Yunjin reached for the zipper to Somi’s romper and slowly pulled it down. Once the zipper was down far enough, Somi shrugged the top of the romper off, and it hung at her waist. Yunjin then dipped a strawberry in chocolate and began painting Somi’s chest with it. I watched as my wife began licking chocolate off the tits of the woman I had cheated on her with the night before. Once she had licked her clean, Yunjin turned to me and waved me over. As I made my way over to her Yunjin, she gave me a kiss.

“Fuck her good,” she whispered into my ear.

“Are you sure?” I asked.

“I know you love me. This is just sex. She’s been teasing you and asking for it all day. Now give it to her.”

I turned my attention to Somi. Unlike yesterday or earlier today where she had been giving me dirty sexy looks, Somi now stood topless in my hotel room with an innocent look on her face. I knew this was just for show. I took one step forward and she lunged towards me. We made out passionately and I shoved her romper down to the floor, leaving all three of us totally nude.

“Fuck me hard. I want you to pound the fuck out of me in front of your wife,” Somi said before jumping up and wrapping her legs around me. I spun her around and sat her down on the cart with the chocolate fountain. Somi let out a loud moan as I pushed my dick into her. Yunjin moved behind me and pressed her tits into my back as I began pumping Somi’s cunt.

“How does it feel? Do you like how my husband fucks you?”

“Yes! It feels incredible. I love his dick. We should have just done this on the beach,” Somi moaned. Somi leaned back and tried to bring my mouth down to her nipples, but as she leaned back, she knocked over the fountain causing the chocolate to spread and puddle over the floor. We all stopped and looked at the mess we made on the wood floors. It gave us all pause, but there was nothing we could do about it now and we were all so drunk on lust it really didn’t matter. I reached down and picked up another bottle of champagne. Shook it a bit and after the cork went flying the liquid shot up and sprayed over Somi’s body. Just like last night, I willing began lapping up the champagne off of the body of the blondie in front of me. This time however I was fucking Somi and I was sucking the liquid off her breast and occasionally giving her nips a bit of a bite. Yunjin continued to press her tits into my back as she alternated between kissing my neck, nibbling on my earlobes, and whispering words of encouragement as I fucked our new friend. The whole situation was the thing that dreams are made of.

I was getting close to cumming, but I didn’t want to give my load to Somi. Or at least I didn’t want to give her this load. Picking Somi off the table, I dropped her down on the floor in the middle of the spilled chocolate sauce. Once she was laid down in the chocolate, I dipped my hand into the spilled sauce and then smeared the chocolate onto her crotch. I then took a can of whipped cream, put the tip into Somi’s cunt and gave her a spray. Somi gave an “oh” as she felt the spritz of cool foam sprayed into her.

“Yunjin, why don’t you eat out your friend.”

“She does look tasty,” Yunjin replied. Yunjin got down on her knees and elbows in front of me, and as she began eating the cream out of Somi’s wet pussy, I moved into place behind Yunjin. I gave her ass a hard slap before taking hold of her hips and I plunged into her and began fucking her hard. The three of us stayed like this for a while. Somi on her back getting eaten out by Yunjin, who was on her knees and elbows getting fucked doggy style by me, all the while we were all in the middle of a large puddle of spilled chocolate sauce. As we fucked eventually there was a chain reaction orgasms. Yunjin was first as she came on my dick and moaned loudly into Somi’s love tunnel which caused her to cum, and the combination of feeling Yunjin cum and watching Somi’s “O” face pushed me over the edge and I erupted inside my wife once again. After we all finished cumming, I rolled Yunjin onto her back and picked the can of whipped cream back up.

“Somi, don’t you think you should repay Yunjin?” Somi didn’t say anything, she simply smiled broadly and rolled onto her knees. As Somi began eating her ass, I sprayed Yunjin’s tits with some whipped cream and began eating it off of her. The two of us doubled teamed Yunjin’s body, I would kiss and play with Yunjin's tits while Somi ate her pussy. A few times Somi went a little further, lifting her butt up and licking her chocolate covered ass. At one point even sticking her finger into her ass while she sucked on her clit. We did not stop our attack on her body until we gave Yunjin a powerful orgasm that made her body shake. The time off from fucking had given my dick a break and now I was back to full mass and ready to give Somi a pounding.

Getting behind her I pushed Somi’s back down so that her ass suck up more. Her ass was covered in chocolate sauce from laying in it earlier. I could not help myself from giving her ass a few licks, before taking hold of her hips and pushing my dick into her. Somi happily pushed her ass back towards me, making sure I was fully into her. Somi and I just pounded each other. The entire hotel room filled with the sound of our grunts, moans, and skin slapping both from me jackhammering her pussy and from me actually slapping her ass which I knew from last night she loved.

While this was going on Yunjin merely sat back and watched as I fucked her friend. At one point she came over to me and kissed me. I reached out and took some whipped cream and sprayed it on Somi’s ass. Then just like I did with her pussy earlier, I pushed the tip of the can into her ass and gave it a spray.

“Lick her ass,” I told Yunjin. She looked at me hesitantly at first then gave me a kiss before turning her attention to Somi. Yunjin began eating Somi’s ass while I continued to pummel her pussy. Somi loudly yelled out as she came hard on my dick. After she came, and the whipped cream was all gone I told Yunjin to back off. Taking what was left in a bottle of champagne I dumped it over Somi’s ass, making sure it was nice and wet before I took my dick out of her pussy and slammed it into her ass. Somi quickly had another orgasm as I fucked her ass.

“I wish I was recording this” Yunjin said as she masturbated while watching me fuck Somi’s ass.

“Me too,” Somi grunted, “I wish I had a video of tonight for when I am alone on the road.” Somi had me stop temporarily, but it was just so that I could roll onto my back and she could ride my dick reverse cowgirl. I watched as my meat slid in and out of her backdoor as she bounced on my rod. I could feel her fingers occasionally brush against my balls as she was obviously rubbing her clit as we fucked. It took a good minutes before I finally came. Blowing my load all up into her ass.

After I came, I thought I was done but apparently, the women were not done with me. I was pushed onto my back as Yunjin used her hand so smear some of the excess chocolate sauce that was still on the floor onto my dick and Somi took a whipped cream can and sprayed my crotch until the can was empty. The two women then went to town on me. They used their tongues to clean the chocolate and cream off of me, while they were also doing their best to stir my cock back to life. At first, the two of them seemed to be fighting and pushing for position, but after two minutes they found a rhythm and seemed to be working in connection with one another. Once the sauce & cream were gone, the two women worked in perfect harmony with each running their lips up and down the side of my cock simultaneously. Had I not known better I would have thought that this was not the first time Yunjin and Somi had been in a threesome together. They had my dick more than back up to full strength.

Yunjin then bump Somi out of the way and got in position. Swinging her leg over my lap, she sank down on my cock and began riding me. As Yunjin bounced on my dick, Somi pulled Yunjin face towards her and the two women kissed. Yunjin rode me hard for a good two minutes before Somi pushed her off of me and took her place. Somi worked her hips even harder and faster than Yunjin dead. Instead of staying at her side, like the way Somi did before, Yunjin moved back and straddled my face. She dropped her pussy down on my face and giving me no other option but to eat her out. After another couple of minutes, the girls switched positions again. This went on back and forth several more times. One woman would ride my cock while the other would ride my face. Occasionally they two women would make out, or grope each other, or suck on each other's tits.

“Oh god, I can’t hold back much longer,” I said as Somi got off of my face. Yunjin had already cum twice and Somi once from our current position. Knowing I would be spent after this next orgasm I tried to hold it off as long as I could, but couldn’t anymore.

“On her face,” Yunjin said as she rolled off me, “I want you to cum on her face.” Yunjin pulled me up to my knees, and Somi laid down in front of me. My cock hung over the top of Somi’s forehead, and Yunjin took hold of me with one of her hand. She began to stroke me, and Somi smiled brightly as she looked up at the handjob happening above her face. It took less than a minute for me to cumming. Somi giggled as my cum rained down on her pretty face.

When it was over, we were all exhausted. We were also filthy. Covered and chocolate sauce, dried whipped cream, sweat, and other bodily fluids from one another. We didn’t even bother to fool around in the shower as the three of us rinsed our bodies clean before going to bed. That night I slept peacefully with Somi and Yunjin cuddling on either side of me. The next morning I awoke as I felt movement on the bed. I opened my eyes but it was still dark outside.

“What’s happening?” I asked.

“We’re going to go do that morning yoga Somi mention, but you can go back to sleep,” Yunjin answered.

“Okay.” Yunjin gave me a kiss before climbing back off the bed.

“Yeah, you better get some more sleep, you’re going to need all your energy for later,” I heard Somi say before the girls left and I tried to go back to sleep. Reflecting on the past couple of days I found myself wondering if this some long coma dream or maybe I had died and this was heaven. This was all too amazing to be real. Either way, it didn’t matter and I was going to make the most of my current situation for however long it lasts.

[ritsuuu-0206]

I need top ava fics

[tteokdoroki]

Aali!!!! I was gonna put this in the tags of your training scenario but got shy :(

but i immediately thought of Gojo!! And like he's not surprised you flipped him over due to you're strength, he has no doubts about how strong you are but it's the fact that he trusts you so much he unconsciously turned off his infinity for you <3 so now he's like !!!!!! because what!!!! but also you're on top of him and you look so pretty so now he's short circuiting double the amount!!!!

Like !!!!!!!! my brain is going crazy thinking about it - 🍓

☆༉ — SATORU GOJO. neither strong, nor weak - just in love.

about. combat training with gojo makes him realise just how strong you really are. inspired by this silly post i made yesterday, it wasn’t meant to become a whole thing but it did and now it’s…sad. im sorry. also pls don’t be shy ily :(

warnings. minors, ageless and blank blogs do not interact. sfw, angst, mutual pining, slightly unrequited romance, mentions of violence (they’re combat training), death mention, canon!verse, gn!reader.

you’re pissed. 

over the years satoru’s seen a colourful array of emotions splayed against your features. he’s seen joy, laughter, happiness — all of which are his favourites. he wishes he could have seen them more. but also sadness, anguish and a pain so deep he felt like he was dying right alongside you. 

he’s died once before, nearly, but it never could have compared to the feeling he got when you looked at him with pure hatred. because gojo had been the one to hurt you, then. 

you’ve never been one to hold grudges, you’re too good of a person for the world to hold anyone in such a negative light for way too long — but when you do experience these emotions, you feel them all too much and all too hard and everyone can see it too. maybe that’s why gojo picks up on your spike of anger so easily during training today, it could be the sick reason behind how much he’s enjoying you being pissed off too.  

because you wear your heart on your sleeve and your emotions on your face, so gojo knows exactly how he makes you feel — all of the time. “c’mon sweetheart, don’t lose focus. don’t you wanna beat me?” he taunts you, a cocky smile stretched over his lips as he dodges each of your blows, though the shades over his eyes hide the admiration he has for you.  

“fuck you.” you spit back harshly, as if the words scald your tongue. shifting your weight onto your back foot, you take a chance and swing your leg up high, just narrowly missing the silvery mop of satoru’s hair where his infinity goes up to protect him. 

for gojo, it’s easy for things to lose their meaning, slipping away from him like fine grains of sand through his fingers. at times when he should, he finds himself without a care — it’s easier to walk through life not giving a shit than to tie emotions to actions, people and places. if the strongest cares too much then people have to die. that’s why the wielder of the six eyes holds you to such high regards. you’re strong because you’re able to care — no matter what’s in your path or who might stand in your way, and what they might make you feel, you are able to be strong for those in need. 

you feel what satoru can’t. 

“i’ve been waiting all day for that, honey.” he quips back, lifting his shades just a little to bare the full brunt of your aura through his technique. “c’mon, let’s put in a little more effort, shall we? if i were a curse, you’d be dead by now.” 

everything gojo sees is magnified by one hundred, he could detect the smallest of changes no matter how close or far he was from you — and being able to witness frustration build up in your core along with stacks of your cursed energy elicits a pleasant reaction out of him. his head flops to the side, almost bored, despite how the corner of his lips quirk up into a lopsided grin. satoru loves how you’re just teeming with anger, from the top of your head right down to your toes — spreading into your fingertips as your cursed energy balls powerfully around your fist. 

and even though he catches it between his larger hands, the thin invisible veil of his infinity quite literally stopping you from killing gojo — he can still feel that you’re pouring your all into this, into him. even though you’re tired and dripping with sweat while your muscles burn so hot you fear they might melt away, you’re still trying. you still won’t give up. you’re still stronger than he ever could be. 

and he’s practically a god. 

“you would be the dead one if you didn’t have the cheat code to life.” rolling your shoulders, you step back with a menacing snarl and start again — fists flying in the direction of the six eyes as you’re  fuelled by the passion of taking him down. making him hurt. people like gojo piss you off, their existence serving as a reminder that your life is not promised and every step you take is a sacrifice to help them live on. though deep down, you know that you don’t hate him for it. it’s nothing that he could have helped. 

once again, satoru snags your fist before it can even leave a mark on him and draws you in by his infinity. for a moment, you’re scared that he might use it to repel you, harm you  — he catches the flicker of fear in your eyes before you steel your nerves and keep on fighting even as he grabs at your wrists, sweeps your feet out from underneath you and pins you to the hard ground below. 

leaning over your frame as you squirm beneath him, gojo tuts down at you in faux disappointment. “so sad, and here i was, thinking that you were strong enough to beat me.” he says, cruelly. “give up already, princess.” 

in response, you bare your fangs and dig your nails into his wrists — not letting up. “i’ll give up when you’ve killed me.” 

that makes satoru falter. 

it’s only training, really, it shouldn’t even be that serious. but his mind can’t shake the idea of one day sacrificing you for the good of others. for everyone satoru gojo has ever cared about, there has been a day where he has to choose between letting them meet their end and protecting the jujutsu world. that’s the way it’s always been and always will be. it’s not that he thinks you’re weak, that you can’t handle yourself — you’ve proven yourself capable of that time and time again. you’re strong, physically and resilient in your emotions, mentally but you’re only human.

and humans don’t last as long as gods do. 

seizing the opportunity at hand, you squeeze your thighs around satoru’s slender waist to switch your situation and rip your wrists free from his steady iron grip. so now, your positions are reversed, and he’s the one with his arms above his head — exposing all of his vulnerable vital organs. he could have easily kept himself in control and have you squirming below him for hours, but he lets you. he trusts you enough to let you prove yourself to him — just so he can have that moment, that lets you know that the great satoru gojo is not immune to the likes of you. 

he is weak for you. 

his infinity slips away unconsciously just as his back his the the floor with a dull thud — wisps of his snow white hair flying about the place with the motion. satoru lays still beneath you, unmoving like a tree rooted to its spot, and peers up at you through the thickness of his lashes. he watches how you try to control your surprise and how shocked you are at yourself for pinning him down — truth being told that if he didn’t have infinity to hide behind, if he was human, you probably would have been able to from the start. 

“think again,” you breathe, the dip in your voice doing nothing to help satoru’s crazed mind and how insane he is for you. “princess.”

you’re so pretty like this. your eyes are frenzied and and astonished, your chest heaves with every breath you take in desperation to fill your lungs with air and your skin shines with light perspiration from your training. and even then, to satoru, you’re the most precious form of life he’s ever seen. a rarity amongst unpolished gems. every emotion you have right now is laid bare against your features, coursing through your veins and it’s because of him. 

it’s nice like this, to feel weak in the knees and in the heart for someone. to be able to feel your pulse rather than see it as nothing but a flicker of a blue flame with blue eyes. 

he wants to touch you, subconsciously reaching out to brush a thumb over your cheek. “you’re so beautiful.” satoru whispers, his voice low and uneven — causing goosebumps to rise over the expanse of your skin and a soft gasp to lay wet on your lips. 

exasperated tears begin to well up in your eyes, sitting pretty in your lower lash line. you’re so angry at gojo and how you think he sees you but you don’t dare to push his hand away, instead turning your head to look elsewhere. you don’t want him to see you cry. 

“turn your infinity back on. i could kill you.” 

“you’re beautiful,” satoru repeats adamantly, not caring if he sounds like a broken record. “you’re strong. stronger than me.” you’re pissed at him too , for looking down at you. for all the things he’s said that hurt you without meaning to. your grip on his wrists loosen along with your hold on your emotions. “i wish i could be weak enough to love you.”

“i said turn it back on, gojo.” 

“look at me, please.” 

“gojo.” 

“please.” 

your shoulders sag with a shaky exhale, all of the fight you had leaving you as you sit on top of him — looking down at him. “what?” comes your quiet mumble, not daring to flinch away as his thumb traces over your bottom lip without the gentle hum of his infinity.

“i love you.” 

if you were at any other point in time, satoru’s words would have had you melting over him like butter in a pan. you would have been weak enough to say it back and let him overwhelm you with longing. because if this were any other point in time, you would have needed satoru gojo like you needed air to breathe. like you needed him to live. 

but things are different now, there’s a concrete wall built around your heart to fortify it and you’ve grown to become immune to him. like gojo says, you are strong and while you know that you always have been — hearing him admit that makes you realise you don’t want to prove your worth to him anymore. 

you would much rather have him kill you instead. 

꒰ end. — all rights reserved © tteokdoroki 2023. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

[chronically-ghosted]

fade into you

rating: Explicit (18+)

pairing: dieter bravo x f!reader

word count: 4K

summary: counting down the days until the new baby arrives, you’re already wound to a breaking point. Fortunately, Dieter is as good a husband as he is a father. 

warnings: pregnancy, hormonal behavior due to pregnancy, fluffy cute behavior with kids, oral (m!receiving), Dieter is a sensitive king and loves your tummy, brief body insecurity, pregnancy sex, smut, thigh fucking, daddy/mommy dynamic – mostly tongue in cheek, and finally the return of the greatest tag gone far too long from our lives - daddy!dieter

a/n: congrats @burntheedges you are the first prompt for my 1k follower celebration! This was your prompt for Dieter: "Your shirt is inside out." "Can you help me fix that?" This takes place in the same universe as Little Monsters, but you don’t have to have read that one to understand this one. Thank you SO much for sending this in!

🤍Dieter Bravo Masterlist 🤍Masterlist

I wanna melt in I wanna soak through I only wanna move when you move I wanna breathe out when you breathe in then I wanna fade into you

“C’mon – c’mon, just –,” your outstretched toe barely scrapes the end of the pen. You’re sweating – of course, you’re sweating, you’re always sweating these days. You try inching further down on the bed, as far as your aching back will allow, your leg fully extended, stretched so long you know you’re just flirting with a massive cramp – 

You manage to snag the pen between your toes but as you bring it forward, the weight of the top slips back – “fuck, no!” and with a clatter, the pen tips backwards out of your grasp and onto the floor. After spending ten minutes trying to a fucking pen that you accidentally put there only after you managed to roll your way off the bed to go to the bathroom for the third time in forty-five minutes, the weight of it all hits you. The massive weight of you sinks back against the pillows, eyes scrunched shut, begging yourself not to cry.

You had all but demanded some time alone to work on the bills the producer wanted you to sort through. It was the last thing on your to-do list before you mentally allowed yourself to start your maternity leave and at this rate, it would be done by the time the nearly-grown baby in your stomach was a walking, talking ten year old. In that weird sixth sense mothers and their unborn children share, you feel your son turn and gently one foot presses against your forearm draped over your massive belly. In any other context, your heart would have been made ten times stronger, fortified by the love of your son.

Right now, it just makes you burst into tears. 

You’re crying so hard you don’t hear the back door open, or the rousing chorus of Baby Shark that echoes through the house. If you were listening, you’d hear the squelch of wet flip flops traipsing through the kitchen floor, the song only occasionally broken by giggles and jokes about towel monsters coming to get little girls who drip water all over the living room, and a loud raspberry on soft skin. 

He opens the door before you even have time to try to pull in the loud, wailing sob. 

“Baby, look at –,” 

“Dieter, don’t –,” you snatch up a pillow and shove your face into it, ashamed, embarrassed, and angry all at once. “Don’t look at me like this.” 

When he had left you an hour ago, you had your hot tea by the side of the bed and your game face on – one of your sexier faces, if anyone asked him. You swore up and down this was the last thing and then it was smooth-sailing. You loved overworking yourself even while eight months pregnant, so Dieter and your doctor managed to make an agreement with you: all work must be done in bed. 

You had your tea, a snack, even a towel wrapped around the headboard so you could pull yourself upright out of the bed to go to the bathroom unassisted while Dieter and Zelle went down to the pool . You, like you so often do, had a fool-proof plan. And to be quite honest, those were Dieter’s favorite kind of plans. 

Listening to his ‘you think I can’t do it? watch me, fuck you’ wife and mother of his child (soon to be another) wail like the house was on fire made something inside of him break on a microscopic level. Like his organs were suddenly perforated with a million tiny cuts. 

His bottoms still wet from the pool and Zelle’s wet suit quickly soaking the front of his t-shirt, Dieter approaches, his hand squeezing the arch of your foot to let him know he’s there. That did nothing to deter the anguish sobbing or inch the pillow away from your face. 

With Zelle on his hip, he slides closer, touching you the whole time until he’s seated right beside you, his hand on your thigh. Your sobbing might only be second to Zelle’s own yelling cry in successfully destroying him from the inside out.

“Baby . . .”

You don’t flinch but he sees your knuckles go white – you’re nearly at the end, but you can’t seem to stop. As Dieter waffles between drawing you into his chest with his free arm or just being there for you while you let it all out, the weight on his hip shifts and a little pudgy hand brushes the back of your knuckles.

“Mama?” 

Your sobbing stutters to a halt with a deep hiccup and all at once you go still. Very slowly, the pillow is lowered and your pink, snotty, dribbly face peers up at him. It’s not funny for you, and he knows this and he knows he won’t laugh but he wants nothing more than to pull you in close and kiss off those tears that have been nearly a constant presence in the last two weeks. Instead, his little girl beats him to it.

Zelle wiggles off his hip towards you and you take her in your arms, letting out one more whine as she wraps her tiny arms around your neck. She rubs her little face in your neck and you huff.

“Now, I feel silly,” you blubber. With a small chuckle, Dieter reaches over and gets a few tissues from the bedside table. He hands them over and you try to juggle Zelle and reaching over your swollen tummy to take them.

“C’mere, baby, let Mama have a second.” Zelle folds into his shoulder, her bright, inquisitive eyes never leaving your face as you wipe yourself dry and blow your nose. He rubs your thigh in circles. “You’re not silly. Whatever ever made you break out into deep sobs on a Thursday afternoon in our secluded bedroom is totally normal.” 

You give a watery laugh, sniffing as you try to adjust your pillows, Baby Brave Number Two rolling back into your kidneys. He doesn’t kick, he's as unassuming as possible, but he can’t help how he floats. 

“I dropped a pen,” you murmur with a sigh. “I just got comfortable after waddling back in from the bathroom and I dropped my pen.” 

“Mama mad?” Zelle hides her little face beneath a curtain of hair. Dieter Bravo’s offspring in every conceivable way, Zelle is rarely this timid – only when there’s even but a hint of an implication that she’s in trouble. You’d see those same puppy dog eyes come out of the man with his hand up against her small back more than a dozen times. 

“No, baby, I’m not mad.” You shake your head and those wide eyes get even bigger. “I’m just having a lot of feelings and I’m not doing a good job at managing them.”

“Yeah, like remember how you felt on your first day of preschool?” Dieter slides Zelle across his waist so she sits between you two. She glances back between your faces, anxiety and confusion twisting up her little features. “You were mad and sad and scared all at once so you started crying when we dropped you off?” She nods and he tucks a strand of delicate hair over her ear. “But then we had that talk in the car and you felt better. Mama just needs to do that.”

“Talk? Mama talk?” 

He smiles at her and pulls her into his chest, smelling her strawberry L’Oreal shampoo, and a peace he’d never known before sinks into his bones. He feels whole with his little girl in his arms.

“Yes, she just needs to talk. Right, Mama?”

He pulls back and watches you visibly swallow. Not a knot of sadness but something else. It’s gone from your eyes by the time Zelle turns back around. 

“I’m just really excited for your little brother to get here,” you say with a soft smile, your hand absentmindedly stroking the swell of your stomach where a little foot had been pressed just a few minutes ago. “Aren’t you?”

Zelle nods, smiling, and puts her ear to your stomach. A minute later, Dieter’s wide palm covers yours. He interlaces his fingers with yours and he smiles. The smile that’s been cultivated and cured over half a dozen years together, and recent late nights as new parents. A smile that has never graced a single magazine cover or Instagram reel. A smile that is forever and always will be yours. 

“Come on, love bug, it’s bath time.” Dieter swings Zelle up into his arms and nibbles on her neck making her giggle. 

“Then dinner time,” you grunt as you inch towards the edge of the bed. You try and swing your legs off the edge but end up nearly toppling over your lowered center of gravity.

“Baby –,” his firm grip steadies you, stops you from rolling into the bedside table. Those lines at the corners of his eyes sharpen for a second as he looks you over, worry all at once endearing and annoying. You hated being coddled but Dieter loved to coddle. 

“I’m okay, I’m okay,” you can hear how out of breath you sound and you grimace. Dieter doesn’t let go of your arm until you’re firmly planted on the ground next to him and you squeeze his bicep as reassuringly as you possibly can. He loosens his grip, concern wrinkling his forehead, his hand sliding from your arm, to your elbow then over your belly once again. Baby Bravo jostles you where his father’s hand sits.

“See, we’re all okay.” 

Your gazes meet at the same time and something softens in his eyes, soothes him and you down to the very beat of your heart. As if in a daze, Dieter’s eyelids flutter half-shut and his eyes slip to your mouth, he puts his hand on your swollen waist as he kisses you – deeply, with an intensity that makes your knees quiver. 

“Ew.”

A puff of breath fans your cheeks as Dieter breaks the kiss with a laugh. On his hip, Zelle chews on her little fist, an all-too-familiar glint in her eye. 

“You can’t say ‘ew’. You only exist because of kisses like that –,”

“Dieter!” 

He shakes his head before kissing Zelle on her little nose. “Tough crowd tonight. But even little sharks need to get a bath before dinner.”

Zelle scrunches up her nose, baring her crooked little teeth, and raises her fingers like claws. “Rawr.”

You hear Dieter chuckle as he walks her down to the bathroom. “Yes, baby, that’s definitely the sound sharks make.”

The bills aggressively shoved to the floor, you are folding the last bit of laundry over the bed after dinner when Dieter saunters in. Still in his trunks and shirt from earlier in the day, a faint pink blush warms his nose and cheeks – which would be gone in a few days, only to be replaced by a gorgeous dark almond color. Dieter Bravo could naturally tan so perfectly it was honestly heart-breaking. 

“She’s out?” 

“She’s out.” He nods with a sigh. He scratches the back of his head and snags his phone off the bedside table. When he sits down on the edge of the bed, you see the tag of his shirt over the lip of his collar. You muffle your grin and quietly finish with the towels. “The guy who came up with the lyrics ‘Baby Shark, doo-doo, doo-doo, doo-doo’ is either a genius or a madman. Two rounds of that and she’s basically comatose.”

“How do you know it was a man?” You arch your eyebrow at him. 

Dieter lifts his head from his phone and smirks at you. He reaches for you and you let him tug you between his legs. He kisses your wrist, your hands curled around his broad shoulders. “That was incredibly sexist of me, darling, can you ever forgive me?”

Dropping his head, he presses a soft kiss to the swell of your stomach, his eyes flicking up to you at the last second, the bottom half of his face hidden. The sight, one you haven’t seen in recent months but one you craved like a drizzle of honey over a bowl of fruit, loosens the tension in your back and liquifies your underwear. 

“Dieter?”

“Yes, O Love of My Life?”

“Your shirt is inside out.”

The sultry look in his eyes immediately flickers out and he huffs a laugh, shaking his head and pressing his face into your neck.

“What would I do without you? Can you help me fix that?” 

“Mhm hm.”

His back arched, you roll the faintly damp shirt up his spine, careful to take in the notches visible through his skin. You watch in delight as more of that broad back is revealed, more golden skin and freckles. The rim of the collar catches the back of his head so when you finally tug it off him, his hair is scattered in a dozen different directions. It takes nearly all of your willpower not to moan at the site. 

“Or . . .” you make a deliberate show of dropping the shirt and Dieter goes honey-eyed again. 

“Yeah?” He tilts his head up, wraps his massive hands around the back of your thighs, squeezing you above the backs of your knees, then higher up, his fingers pressing into your inner thigh muscles, and finally resting on your ass. 

You nod and gently push him back. He goes without being told twice. “I want to thank you for taking Zelle to let me work today.”

His eyes go wide, his elbows locked with his arms set apart behind him, when you go onto your knees in front of him.

“B-baby, your back –,”

“Then give me a pillow, Dieter.” 

He nearly launches himself back to snag a pillow by the headboard. 

“My back is one thing, but I’m more worried about the knot of your trunks.”

Dieter busies himself with the drawstring of his shorts, his movements frantic, giving you a chance to muffle a grunt as you ease the pillow underneath your knees. He’s right, of course, but fuck if you couldn’t get those goddamn bills done, the least you could blow your husband until he popped off in your mouth. 

“Love, you really don’t have to do this.” You glance up at him and despite the evident tent in his swim trunks, his wide eager eyes, he will do everything in his power to make these last few weeks even somewhat bearable. 

With a smile, you lean forward and squeeze his knees. “I know. And honestly, I don’t know how long I’ll last, but I wanna try. Is that okay?”

An awe-struck grin splits his lips apart and he laughs, a high-pitched sound and breathless. “How long you’re gonna last? Been half-hard all day since you put on those leggings this morning.”

“Well, you were so good with Zelle today, talking to her about feelings, it made me kinda hot and bothered so I feel especially grateful.”

You lean forward, fingers plucking at the damp strings and out of the corner of your eye you see his knuckles go white against the sheets. You tug and he helps you by lifting his hips.

“S-so that’s what that look w-was.” He swallows roughly as you take him in your hand, stroking him gently at first. He squeezes his eyes shut – god, could you really make him come with just a few touches? “I’m j-just – fuck – doing my part.” 

You kiss along his length and his shoulders lock up as his breathing quickens. You suck the spit in your mouth before dropping a string of drool right on the head and Dieter’s groan elongates, the muscles of his neck tense. 

“Well, Mommy likes it when Daddy does a good job.”

Tongue out and jaw loose, you swallow him down nearly to the base. Maybe you’re biased because you married the himbo attached to it, but Dieter’s cock is one of the – if not the – very best cocks you’ve ever seen in your life. Thick without being overwhelmingly long and always oozing precum the instant you breathe on it. A slick vein that has him whimpering with a single lick. 

“Fuck, Mama, you’re so fucking good at this.” Dieter’s hand floats to the crown of your head, his nails scratching your scalp, the weight of his palm soothing as it follows the motions of your head. With every little sigh he makes, your pussy squeezes with every bob of your head. Dieter’s sensitivity has always been a near drug for you, a chemical reaction that floods your brain, branding those noises on the lining of your skull as he drips down the back of your throat. You meet his hot gaze just as you drag your mouth up and nearly off him, only to kitten-lick the lip of his head and he clamps his eyes shut, shuddering.

When you hear his heel kick the ground beside you, his chest heaving and chin tilted up, you drop your mouth down to his base – years of taking him training you to smother your gag-reflex – and with hollowed cheeks, suck him all the way up to the tip. His wiry curls smell like chlorine and musk. 

Dieter jerks, his hand flying to your shoulder as if to pry you off him. 

“Mhmm – baby, p-please – shit,” he swallows and you pop off him, his cock red and shiny from your spit. Dieter is panting, soft center fluttering, flush high in his throat. Your underwear sticks to you as you realize he very nearly came in your mouth without warning. Call it being a masochist but you loved making him come before either of you realized what was happening. 

“Get off your fucking knees and come here –,” he yanks you into his naked lap and you go, giggling as he palms your ass and kissing you so hard you tilt back. He bites your bottom lip and you keen. “Can’t believe I let my pregnant wife fucking suck me off like that when she knows I worship that little pussy.” 

He cups you through your leggings and the dampness soaking through the fabric sends a moan through both of you. Dieter’s jaw goes lax as he rubs his thick fingers across your folds, the material catching and dragging, and you whimper – and not in a way he knows means a good thing. His gaze floods with worry and you shake your head – the instant the doctor gives the go-ahead you’re gonna have him rail you through a bedpost – “It’s okay. I’m just sore, baby. Last night –,”

He tsks, frowning. “I told you I was being too rough.”

“I asked for it. Also, so not the time for an ‘I told you so’. Help me stand up.” 

With his hands on your hips, he eases you off of his lap and onto your feet. You lift up your exasperatedly large shirt, the hemline of which has been steadily shrinking as you grow, and clip off your bra. Dieter stares, mouth open, as you slip your leggings and your sticky underwear off your round hips and to the floor. With your second baby, you’d managed to quell the looming anxiety about your body changing but with a boy, you just feel ten times your normal size, bigger than you did with Zelle. Your heart hitches in your chest as Dieter’s eyes roam from your shoulders to your swollen tits, your belly, your thighs, and you’d be happy if he just thought you were – 

“Gorgeous, baby, just fucking gorgeous.” He stands and kisses you without another word, his thumbs on your jaw tilting your mouth into his. He palms your breast, hard and weighed with milk. He approaches you with a level of sensuality that makes your eyes roll back in your head and your knees shake. How can he touch you like that when you’re already filled to the brim?

“How do you need it, baby?”

The tension that had been locking down the muscles in your back, your hips, since you woke up this morning, only heightened over those stupid fucking bills and feeling incredibly sorry for yourself, cracks at his words. Without your hands on his chest and his big hands cradling your jaw, you’re sure you would have melted to the floor. You lick your bottom lip, eyes scrunched tightly to clear the sudden tightness behind them. 

“On my side, but between my thighs?” 

His eyes are all heat, all dark wanting, but he hits you in the knees with one of his crooked grins. “Yeah, you’re gonna let Daddy fuck your thighs?” Total reverence, filth that has your toes curling coming as easy to him as it is to breathe. 

“Please.” 

He stands back at a distance, watching with half-set eyes as you climb into bed and peel back the covers. As you settle, Dieter flicks off the overhead light, and then the lamp by your bedside. His body lined in dark shadows and the cool touch of the moonlight, you track him as he rounds the bed, sliding in behind you in bed, the covers up to his shoulders. There’s a breath of silence, of anticipation, of a yearning so deep your skin flushes with goosebumps at his proximity. You know he’s there, you watched him dip on the other side of the bed, but a spark of panic tightens your lungs, you want to reach back for him, your baby unmoored as you are, trembling and desperate for the calming touch of the father –

He kisses you over your shoulder, broad, warm hand starting at your hip, then scooping down around your naked bottom to settle on your belly and from where his hand sits, you radiate with heat. Melting and growing sticky like tree sap, you drip for him, slick smearing across your thighs with no material to soak you up. His mouth is warm, the short hairs of his mustache numbing your upper lip, the taste of the red wine from dinner light against the back of his tongue. 

When he cups you again, finds the sticky sap gathered in your curls and leaking onto your thighs, he breaks the kiss with a grunt and presses his teeth into your shoulder, his cock fully present against your back. You nip his bottom lip with your thumbnail, pleased beyond words at his reaction.

“I love you.” 

That’s not what you thought he was going to say. He lifts his furrowed brow, eyes dark but struck with such earnestness, you feel your heartbeat in your ears. He sucks the mark his teeth made on your shoulder, his hips hitching closer, turning his weight over you, before dropping closer to kiss you again.

“How did I get so fucking lucky with you, hm?” He asks of no one. Delicately, he guides your knee back over his hip, his breath warm across the curve of your shoulder, his other hand pressing gently on the back of your neck. He would never, ever choke you in this state, but fuck you missed it. You missed it when Dieter loses himself entirely in you. 

The head of his cock taps the wet triangle of your thighs and you fist the pillow beneath your head. He shuffles closer and you can feel his chest trembling with restraint. 

“Tell me if it hurts,” he says in one breath. You know if you look over your shoulder, he’s fixated on watching you take his cock. Oddly enough, his ADHD always seemed to clear out during sex. “Do– do you need my fingers – a-a toy to prep you, ‘cause I can–,”

“Dieter, please.”

He exhales and, with a slow thrust that smears your arousal all over his spit-licked cock, you finally feel relief. The noise that leaves your throat is unrecognizable. That ruddy tip kisses your clit and the moan that tears out of you is nearly a scream. 

A wide palm claps over your mouth, a breathy giggle falling down your back. 

“Baby,” low, strained, barely audible over the sounds of your slickness sucking your thighs together around Dieter’s cock. “If you wake up that child before I’m balls deep in you, I will never forgive you.”

Using his hand as leverage, he pulls you back against him, pressing himself even further between your soaked lips, prodding your clit so gently it sends sparks up your spine and you come, a small wave, that somehow has you leaking more onto his cock. 

“Ah – oh my god – did you just –?” 

You whine and wrap your hand up into his hair, and finally he’s skin to skin up your back. His hips jolt you forward, the hard smack loud and sloppy in the mess between your thighs. Dieter leans over you and nips at your earlobe, his thrusts faster now, each one catching your clit with just enough time apart to send you ratcheting higher. 

“That’s so good, Dieter, you’re doing so good –,”

A sharp intake of breath, high through a vocal shudder, and he drops down onto his shoulder against the pillow, looping his arm around your chest, a wide palm cupping your sensitive breast. Skin to skin, he is a wall of heat behind you, his hands both steadying you and begging you for more against your hip. It’s moments like these, when he’s swallowing up every sense you’re still in control of, that you really believe your soul lives in two bodies. 

He tucks his lips near your ear and your skin tingles. “Can I touch your clit, or does that hurt?”

“Just put your hand –,”

You take him by the wrist from the curve of your waist, where he grips you tight, fingers pocketing your flesh, and slide him down between your legs. 

“That’s it, baby, take what you need.” 

Between the consistent bouncing of his cock between your pussy lips and the heat of his four fingers, stocky and thick, you have nowhere to go but up, your own hips thrust back aimlessly, bliss hurling towards you, until it breaks – and you whine, squeeze Dieter’s hand so hard, you think you hear a bone pop.

Wetness floods your thighs and, half a dozen strokes later, Dieter spills with a groan, white cream splattering against the low curve of your belly and onto the sheets. Covered in literal spend, exhaustion soaks your bones, gasping for air and never finding enough. You lie together, your bodies buzzing, blood roaring loud beneath your skin, until Dieter tilts his weight off you – you didn’t even realize he had nearly smothered you – and his cock slides out from between your numb legs, his grip loosening from your breast and his hand flopping down into the sheets. His skin is pink from exertion.

You grin and roll over as gracefully as you can, out of breath and the size of a house. 

“An unexpected bonus,” you sigh, ringing your belly button with your finger, “I think we rocked him to sleep.” 

Dieter huffs a laugh as he pushes a handful of damp curls off his sweaty forehead and his other arm curls around your shoulders. He rests his other palm over your fingers on your belly.

“Glad I could tire all three of us out.” You giggle into his shoulder. Both of you are sticky hot, sweltering in a fog of your own mess, and you can feel sleep tugging at the corners of your eyes. Humming, you curl up closer to him, your knee over his hip, tucking your nose into his neck as his fingers absently play with strands of your hair. 

“I meant what I said, you know that right?”

Your body as supple as warm wax, eyes melting shut, you nod vaguely. “Mhmm hmm.” 

“I love you, baby. Thank you, for everything.”

You return the sentiment, the words dribbling out of your mouth as sleep overwhelms you.

Later, when you wake up in the early blue hours of the morning, rain pattering against the glass, and you feel something cool and soft against your belly, you stir, reaching for him.

“Hush, baby, stay still for me.” He hums somewhere above you. You nod, on the precipice of sleep again. “You gave me the world, I’m just returning the favor.”

Later still, when you awake to a soggy light, Dieter and Zelle down the hall excitedly picking out which movies to watch on this designated Stay on the Couch day, you roll onto your back and realize he’s painted a globe onto your stomach. 

A foot inside you presses up against Chile and you grin into space, content beyond your wildest dreams. 

+

[ginnsbaker]

fic: if i bleed (you'll be the last to know) (4/?)

Part summary: Getting to know Leigh Shaw comes with some hardships—literally.

Pairing: Leigh Shaw x Fem!Reader | Word count for this part: 4.600 | Warnings/Tags: Pining | A/N: Still haven't decided how many parts will there be, but for now, enjoy reader's POV as her interest in Leigh grows :)

Masterlist | Part I Part II | Part III | Next

-

For some reason, you keep saying yes to Leigh Shaw.

Yes to providing your veterinary services for her.

Yes to divulging the private aspects of your relationship with Matt.

Yes to staying in her yoga class.

Yes to running very early in the morning, with a lung-busting pace that leaves you dehydrated and feeling queasy by the end of it.

As if to add insult to injury, Leigh Shaw doubles back to where you're lagging behind, barely hanging on for dear life. She flashes that cheeky grin, says, “Try to keep up,” and takes off again like it's nothing. You're left gasping for air, your heart screaming in agony as you attempt to match her pace, but Leigh's already a blur ahead. 

She was right—your endurance is really nowhere to be seen. It's in these moments, as you're pushing past what you thought were your limits, that you start to get why Leigh's both a pain and a push that was kind of missing before in your life. 

Leigh eventually vanishes around a corner, and consequently, you lose sight of her. You dig deep, pushing yourself to keep going, refusing to quit out of stubbornness and curiosity of what your body could do. By some miracle, you make it to the finish line, which turns out to be that park you've been to only once before with Matt. He had made it a special day with sandwiches and comics, while you got lost in a book he swore you’d love. You can’t shake off the feeling that this place is significant for Leigh and Matt too.

When you finally stumble in, there's Leigh, chilling on the grass, looking like she's lost in thought, her eyes dark with something you can't quite put your finger on. But then she spots you, and it's like someone flipped a switch. She’s back to the flippant Leigh—easygoing, as if nothing’s amiss.

“Was half expecting to find you passed out somewhere back there,” Leigh smirks up at you.

You can’t help but flop down next to her, letting the sun beat down on your face, feeling every bit of your skin that's exposed soaking up the warmth. Thirst claws at your throat, fierce and unforgiving. Gathering the little energy you have left, you manage to ask, “How long have you been waiting?”

Leigh glances at you, her casual ease belying the brief glimpse of concern you thought you'd seen earlier. “Oh, about five minutes,” she says, her tone light, as if the grueling run was nothing more than a leisurely stroll for her.

You pant out, “Why are you so fast, anyway?” 

Leigh bursts into laughter, finding your question absurdly funny. “Fast? Me? That's hardly competitive speed, you're just... completely out of shape.”

You pout, feeling slightly offended but too exhausted to argue. Stretching out beside her, you let out a series of groans and pops, feeling your muscles protest and then slowly relax. “Feels like I'm a hundred years old,” you mutter with a heavy sigh.

Still chuckling, Leigh shakes her head. “I've been running for three years now. It's more of a hobby, really, but I need to stay active for my job at the Beautiful Beast. Or my mom will fire me.”

“Your family owns that place?”

Leigh corrects you quickly, “Not my family, just my mom. And being the owner's daughter doesn't give me a pass to slack off. I can't afford to be terrible at my job.”

Her distinction between “my family” and “my mom” sticks with you. It seems like a clue into her family dynamics. In the short time you've known her, Leigh comes across as straightforward, genuinely helpful, and yes, perhaps a bit quick-tempered, but overall...she's okay. 

More than okay, actually. She must be incredible to those she truly cares about. So, what went wrong with her and Matt? How could he betray her like that? It’s even more baffling when you remember Leigh saying they were trying for a baby. That detail still turns your stomach, and you're endlessly grateful you never went down that path with him, despite once wishing things had gone differently.

Lost in your thoughts, you don't realize how intently you've been staring at Leigh until she calls you out on it. “What is it?” she asks, her voice pulling you back to the present.

Flustered, you find yourself asking the question that's been simmering in your mind, since you first pulled on your sneakers for that 5k this morning. “Why'd you bring me along for your run? Why are you even helping me?”

Leigh just gives an offhand shrug, says, “Well, you didn't have to show up, so you're actually helping yourself.”

“Fair enough,” you reply, but can't shake off a bit of disappointment. The truth is, you were hoping she'd say something that suggested she was up for being friends, or at least saw you as more than just another client of hers.

It's weird, really, why you keep wanting to be friends with Leigh Shaw.

Suddenly, Leigh glances at her watch and looks up at you. “Ready to go?” she asks, a bit impatiently.

“If I can still walk after this, sure,” you say, half-joking, half-serious, feeling the effects of the run in every muscle.

Leigh laughs at that, a genuine, hearty laugh that lights up her face. It's a sound that's real and unguarded, making you think that maybe, becoming friends with her isn't such a far-fetched idea after all.

-

Yoga sessions with Leigh stick to the script you first stumbled into. She's all business, only really tossing you a nod or a word when your form goes sideways. “Shoulders down, back straight,” she corrects you, her voice firm, yet not unkind. Outside of that, you might as well blend into the walls for all the personal attention she gives, just like anyone else there. Everyone gets the same treatment—tough love, dished out in equal measure.

Despite her imposing presence, there's something else, a depth to her that often seems just out of reach. You catch her sometimes, looking out the window with a distant gaze. But then she blinks, shakes it off, and is back, fully attentive and ready to guide the next pose.

“Focus on your breathing,” Leigh's voice snaps you out of your focus on her. “Inhale deeply, and as you exhale, sink deeper into the pose.”

Determined to excel, you pour all your effort into being the student Leigh doesn’t need to worry about. Ironically, your diligence only seems to make you more invisible to her. As you master the poses with less need for correction, Leigh's interactions with you dwindle further.

After class, you toy with the idea of approaching her. Maybe get some feedback, or even suggest grabbing dinner together so you don't have to eat alone. But as you're putting together what to say, you notice Leigh seems in a hurry. She exchanges a few quick words with another instructor who's just arrived, and before you can decide, she's excusing herself and heading out.

The moment to ask her has slipped away, leaving you to pack your yoga mat with a resigned sigh. 

Another time, then, you think.

-

The next day, without another invite from Leigh for a run, you lace up your shoes and follow the same route you and Leigh took together. Just 20 minutes into the run, the solo effort feels more like a chore than the engaging challenge it was with company. You loop the route four times, hoping maybe to cross paths with Leigh purely by coincidence, but she’s nowhere to be found. 

The studio had announced last night that Leigh’s yoga classes would be temporarily led by a different teacher, with her expected to return next week. This bit of news leaves you mulling about her absence, kind of hoping you might accidentally run into her to find out more. But as the week goes by without any such encounters, you realize you actually know very little about her daily routines or habits. Despite the nagging curiosity, you refrain from texting her, not wanting to intrude or anything.

Admittedly, your motivation to work out dipped slightly without Leigh being part of it.

-

When you finally talk yourself into visiting Matt’s grave, you do so just minutes before it could get really dark. You've chosen this time deliberately, betting on the common fear that keeps most people away from cemeteries as night approaches. 

Your main concern isn't the general public, though; it's just Leigh. Past experiences have shown that encounters with her can happen unexpectedly and in the most random of places—like that night at the club when she ended up getting sick just a few inches away from you. You're not here out of a longing for Matt. Instead, you aim to properly close this chapter of your life, hoping to do so without running into his widow and giving her the wrong impression.

The air holds a chill that wasn't there when you left home, making you wrap your jacket tighter around yourself. It’s quiet, just the sound of your own footsteps crunching softly on the path. Being here as the day turns to night, watching shadows stretch out long and skinny, really gets you thinking about life, death, and everything else in-between. Maybe that's also why people avoid this place—it sort of forces you to face the music, making you curious if all the things you're wrapped up in are actually important or utterly pointless. 

As for you, you haven't quite figured out where you stand on that yet. Lately, you've really come into your own in your career, especially now that you’re seeing the profits steadily rising each month. But that sense of achievement fades each evening as you return to your empty apartment. It's just you, night after night, pushing through the grind, pouring everything into your job. Yet, when you try to envision where you'll be in five years from now, the picture isn't clear. Will you be settling down with someone, or just picking up the pieces from another relationship that’s gone awry?

Finding Matt's grave takes a moment, but when you do, your heart clenches. It’s just a simple stone with his name, the years he was here, and a couple of words(you’re guessing it’s Leigh who wrote them) about him. 

You kneel down, the grass cool and slightly damp beneath you, and lay the flowers you've brought on his grave. They look kind of bright against the dimming light. Like hope.

“Hey Matt,” you say, stepping into a silence that feels like it's hanging around, just waiting for you to fill it. Talking to a dead person feels ridiculous like they do in the movies, but it's not like anyone's around to hear you.

“You know, I met Leigh,” you begin. “Your wife you conveniently forgot to mention when you were busy asking me out.”

There's a sour edge to your voice, airing grievances to a guy who can't throw back excuses anymore. You can't help but chuckle, though it's more bitter than amused. You let your thoughts more freely now, like the barrier between you and Matt has thinned out with the honesty. 

“Leigh is… beautiful, you know? Not in that runway or social media kind of way, but in a manner that's hard to just overlook.” 

You could list a dozen more positive things about Leigh to tell Matt, but he already knew all that, didn't he?

“The first time I met her, I felt small, maybe even insecure. And now?” you shake your head, smiling slightly. “...I still do. But mostly, I'm just left thinking…” You pause. The next thought isn't really for Matt, not anymore. 

It’s for you.

“I just can't wrap my head around why you'd want to be with me when you had her. I feel like the murder weapon that's trying to seek justice for its victim.” You let out a dry, humorless laugh. “Not a great spot to be in, honestly. Makes me feel kind of helpless, you know?"

Sitting back, you take a moment, just looking at the headstone, at the name etched into the granite. The conversation, if you can call it that, feels like it's shifted something inside you. Not closure, exactly, but maybe the first step towards understanding—or at least accepting—that some things just don't make sense.

Standing up, you dust off your knees, taking one last look at the grave. “Anyway, Matt, I hope you've found peace. It looks like we're all searching for a little of that ourselves. Thanks for the book suggestions. Though, you might be a bit disappointed to hear Agatha Christie remains my top favorite.”

As you walk away from Matt's grave, it feels as though you're leaving a piece of yourself behind to rest with him. You decide then, as the cemetery gate closes behind you with a gentle click, that you won't let this page in your book define you. Maybe tomorrow, you'll try a new coffee shop, or take a different route to work. Small changes, but important ones.

Maybe you’ll even try that spin class that scares you so.

-

“Since when did you start living at the gym?” Suzie teases you from her spot across the desk, that signature playful, all-knowing arch to her eyebrow.

Suzie, who had originally come on board as a receptionist at your vet clinic with little more than enthusiasm and a genuine love for animals to her name, had quickly become much more than just a staff member. Her lack of relevant experience was initially a concern, but her dedication and the way she connected with both the animals and their owners made it clear she was a perfect fit. Over time, she evolved from being just the receptionist to a friend. 

A friend who seems to enjoy teasing you, though.

“First off, it’s hardly the gym. It’s this fitness class I’ve been trying out—big distinction,” you clarify, eyes glued on your phone. The last half hour has been a slow crawl towards 5 PM, the magical hour when you can finally shut down and head to Leigh’s class at Beautiful Beast.

“Tomatoes, to-mah-toes,” she quips.

“Not the same thing,” you insist, still not fully engaged in the conversation, your focus on a food article you're reading.

Suzie just waves her hand dismissively. “Semantics. But seriously, you've been really into whatever this is. There's gotta be a guy making those sweat sessions worth it.”

You can't help but laugh, the idea so off base it circles back to being hilarious. 

“Trust me, the allure isn't the sweat. It's those endorphins,” you say.

“Yeah, sure,” she drawls, unconvinced. “Come on. Who is it? I know you're not this amped to be all gross and sweaty for nothing.”

“There's no guy, Suzie.” Then, as if the thought just occurred to you, you add, “Or girl. But honestly, there's really no one.”

At that, Suzie's expression shifts from playful teasing to one of pleasant surprise and a touch of mock offense. “Hold up, you might be into girls? And here I was, shooting my shot in the dark this whole time!”

Your ears burn red at her blunt flirtation. “Suzie, come on,” you stammer.

“If I had known that was on the table, I would’ve upped my game ages ago,” she says, her wink sending your face from warm to inferno.

“You’re impossible,” you manage to say as you hurry to collect your things, ready to rush out the door.

“Impossibly into you,” she retorts saucily.

“I’m gonna have to fire you, you know,” you mutter jokingly, glancing at your watch. “Gotta run, bye!”

“Just so we're clear, the offer stands,” she adds, still grinning.

-

You feel a sense of relief seeing Leigh back in class. 

Though the website clearly stated her schedule, you found yourself on edge until you could see Leigh with your own eyes. There's nothing noticeably different about her; Leigh seems just as composed and in control as ever. When she catches you looking, she offers a small, somewhat dismissive smile before turning her attention elsewhere. 

You spend the whole session with your energy dialed up, partly because Leigh's presence just does that, and partly because you're already plotting. As soon as she calls time on the session, you're practically springing into action. Your belongings—a water bottle, towel, and the rest—land in a haphazard pile on the floor as you quickly stand up, eager to catch her before she disappears. You make your way toward her, determined not to let her slip away this time.

Leigh's busy packing up her own gear, her back to you as you close the distance. “Hey, Leigh,” you say, and it sounds like you've got this under control, even if your heart's hammering away in your chest. She turns, and there's a flicker of surprise in her expression. You’re hoping it’s the good kind of surprise.

“I'm really glad you're back,” you push on, hoping it doesn't sound as clumsy to her as it does in your head.

She takes a swig from her water bottle, giving you a once-over, and then says, “Thanks. Do you need anything?” There's an expectant look in her eyes, and in that moment, your confidence begins to wane, melting under her gaze. You're on the spot, scrambling for words, any words that don't involve asking her out for dinner, which suddenly seems like an insurmountable task.

“Uh, actually,” you start, your mind racing to find a safe topic, “I was wondering if you had any tips on improving my form?”

Leigh's expression softens, and she nods, setting her water bottle down. “Sure, I can show you a few things. Let's go back to the mats,” she suggests, leading the way. Despite feeling like your tank is on empty and your body crying for hydration, backing down doesn’t feel like an option. 

Not when Leigh is already spreading her mat next to yours. She does so with a sort of blasé authority, and you can't help but think how this is Leigh all over—straight to the point, no fuss. You're tired, sure, and a part of you is suggesting that you're about to make a fool of yourself with your shaky legs and probably even shakier form. But then, Leigh starts talking, pointing out where you're going wrong and how to fix it, and suddenly, you're not thinking about dinner anymore. You’re too distracted now by the smell of her perfume mixed with the scent of her sweat.

The next few minutes turn into what feels like a whole new session under Leigh's watchful eyes. She's on you about everything—the angle of your arm, the set of your shoulders, even the way you're distributing your weight on your feet. Leigh's not mean about it, but she doesn't let anything slide. You're just trying to keep up, watching her move with that easy confidence. It's mesmerizing, really, how she can make something so complex look so simple.

By the time you're done, your muscles are burning, your breath is ragged, and you're pretty sure you've sweated out every last drop of water in your body. As you lie there, staring at the ceiling and asking yourself how a ten-minute guidance turned into an even harder session, you mentally kick yourself for not just admitting you wanted company for dinner. It was right there, and you were too scared to be rejected. 

But why? Considering everything that's happened and the circumstances, Leigh turning you down seems like the more probable outcome anyway.

And then Leigh does something totally offbeat. She glances at the clock, then back at you, and out of nowhere, she's asking, “Want to grab something to eat?”

It's so unexpected, that for a moment, you're sure you misheard her. But Leigh's waiting for an answer, a slight smile playing on her lips, and suddenly, the fatigue feels a little less overwhelming. You sit up, a slow grin spreading across your face as you realize this is it—your chance, handed to you when you least expected it.

“Yeah,” you finally manage to say, almost tripping over your tongue. “Yeah, that'd be great.”

-

When Leigh mentioned grabbing something to eat, you expected a sit-down at some cozy restaurant serving healthy food. Instead, she pulls into the drive-thru of a fast-food joint, orders a mountain of fries and a couple of burgers, and parks the car in a secluded spot overlooking the city. It's laid-back, unpolished, and honestly, pretty perfect.

“So, how long have you been in town?” Leigh asks as she hands you a burger, the city lights twinkling below like a scattered deck of glowing cards.

“Just over a year,” you reply, taking a hearty bite of your burger. “Moved here for the business opportunity, but it’s been... you know, slow on the social front.”

Leigh nods, understandingly. “It can be tough, starting fresh somewhere. This place isn't the friendliest to newcomers.”

Your eyebrow lifts, curious whether she's speaking from her own experiences or perhaps someone else's.

“Yeah, most of my socializing happens online these days. My closest friends are scattered across different states,” you say.

Leigh just hums a bit, not really adding anything else. She doesn't go into details about her own friends, so you're left trying to think of something else to talk about. But everything that comes to mind feels too personal, like asking why she wasn't at the Beautiful Beast for a week, how she's dealing with being a widow, or questions about her family.

Small talk isn't really your thing, so the conversation fizzles out from here. Both of you just end up staring out at the city lights in silence. Leigh seems comfortable with it though, so you decide to just go with it and savor the quiet moment too.

After a while, Leigh breaks the silence. “I didn't think I'd be able to love another dog after Rogue,” she shares, not taking her eyes off the cityscape. “Matt and I had to put her down because she was sick. It was brutal. I swore off dogs after that.”

You look over at her and offer a soft, “I'm sorry.”

But there's no trace of sadness on her face. It’s so nonchalant, almost as if she’s just talking about the weather and not a painful memory.

“But then...I saw Visitor,” she goes on, a small smile cracking through. “I just knew he needed me. And, this might sound odd, but I realized I wanted to feel needed. When Matt—” She stumbles over his name, a rare falter, but she's quick to brush it off. “When he died, nobody needed me. And I struggled with that. Because being needed felt like a purpose.”

The idea of needing to be needed isn't something you've ever considered. Truth is, you've never really needed anyone. You've been a solo act for as long as you can remember, handling things on your own, relying solely on your own capabilities. And so, that also meant you couldn't imagine being on the other side of the spectrum—being needed by someone.

However, there's a part of you, unexpectedly, that feels a twinge of jealousy towards Leigh. To truly experience loss, there first has to be something meaningful to lose. You're not sure you've ever let yourself have that kind of bond with anyone. Not yet, anyway. It's a sobering thought, making you think about what you might be missing out on.

Leigh notices you're not saying much and says, “I don't even know why I'm telling you all this. I'm sorry.”

You shake your head slightly, “It's okay. I just... I don't think I've ever been in your shoes.”

Leigh looks a bit puzzled. “What do you mean? Are you talking about the dog thing, or…?”

“The other thing,” you clarify.

Leigh smirks. “Oh, I wish I was like that.”

You quickly realize how arrogant that must have sounded, so you rush to explain, “No, I'm not trying to brag or anything. It's just, I guess I've never really opened myself up to that kind of bond.”

“Not even with Matt?” she asks, and there it is—the topic of Matt you've been tiptoeing around. You're suddenly aware that Matt's shadow is something you'll have to get used to, just as Leigh apparently has, given the unceremonious way she alludes to your almost-affair with her late husband. 

“No,” you whisper, looking straight into Leigh's eyes, hoping she’ll believe you. “We never needed each other like that.”

Leigh's eyes linger on yours a moment longer before she looks away. Eager to change the subject, you add, “Must've been rough, giving Visitor back to his real family.”

“Yeah. I mean, I shouldn't be, right? But part of me was actually angry at them for letting him get away like that. He could've been hit by a car or worse, all because they weren't careful. But at the end of the day,” she stops, a sigh escaping her, and that smile that doesn't quite reach her eyes comes back as she looks at you again. “He’s not mine.”

“Visitor really snuck into your heart, didn’t he?”

Leigh nods. “I wasn't expecting to care that much, you know?” Then, she offers a small, reflective chuckle. “Makes you think about the connections we allow ourselves to have, and the ones we avoid, doesn't it?”

You try to gauge whether she's still talking about Visitor while also trying to figure out where you stand—the connections she's chosen or the ones she sidesteps?  Before you find the courage to ask, Leigh starts the car and presses down on the clutch, ready to switch gears.

“I need to head back to the studio, so I can only drop you off somewhere on the way,” Leigh says, signaling the end of your time together for now.

You quickly decide that being dropped off at the studio is fine. “The Beautiful Beast works for me,” you reply, hoping to extend the time you have left with her, even if it's just by a few minutes. 

The ride is quiet, the earlier ease replaced by a thoughtful silence. You're watching her, the way she's all eyes on the road but clearly lost in her head. Leigh, as you’ve noticed, is someone hard to get to open up, her walls built high and strong. She's this fortress of a person, but tonight felt different, like she accidentally left a window open and you caught a glimpse inside. 

It just makes you crave for more.

As the studio comes into view, it feels like you've both made some progress with Leigh and yet, somehow, not made any at all. Stepping out of the car, you’re met by Jules, another staff member at the Beautiful Beast whom you've heard Leigh refer to numerous times, approaches. You barely catch her saying, “Danny is waiting for you inside,” to Leigh. You miss the frown on Jules's face or how Leigh instantly seems on edge.

“Thanks for the ride—and for dinner,” you say, feeling a bit out of place now.

“Don't get used to it,” she says, the corners of her lips twisting into a reluctant smile. “Was nice talking, though. Thanks for not making it weird.”

As she's quickly pulled away by whatever's going on inside, you hover for a second, debating if you should go in for a goodbye hug. But before you know it, Leigh is tossing a quick “Bye” in your direction as she strides towards the studio.

You're left there, floating in the aftermath, wondering about everything and nothing all at once.

[anystalker707]

Can you feel it?

Pairing: Monkey D. Luffy x [gn, amab] Reader Kinktober prompt: Size kink Tags: bottom luffy / belly bulge / overstimulation / size difference / fingering / cum as lube / riding / cock drunk

requested by the cmt anon

KINKTOBER LIST MASTERLIST

          Yawning, you sat with your back on the pillows against the headboard. It’d been a long day, but partying so much after such a long battle paid off. Now, you were aching for a good night of sleep in that bed. It was far better than the ship’s bunks, making your mind blank out momentarily when you sank into the mattress, staring at the wall until your vision blurred.

The door opening cut through your thoughts, and you blinked a couple of times, furrowing your eyebrows at the sight of Luffy walking in with a plate of food in hand and a piece of meat in his mouth as he closed the door with his foot. He mumbled something that fell incoherent through the food, putting the plate on the small desk in the room along with his hat. You narrowed your eyes at him, shaking your head lightly when his eyes met yours; he practically swallowed all the food at once before he crawled on the bed and came over to you.

“(Y/n),” Luffy hummed softly, making kissy lips, but you held his shoulders before he could do anything. “Aw, what’s it?” He whined.

“Your mouth is all dirty and greasy!” You clicked your tongue and playfully kicked him away, almost chuckling at the pouty face he made. “Come on, Luffy! Wash your face and your hands, at least! They’re gross! You’re even staining the bedsheets! Take your flip-flops off! Gross Luffy! Bad Luffy!” You gently push him away with your foot. It wasn’t exactly your intention, but he ended up just sliding off the bed the way he was by the corner when you gently kicked him again. He was a slumping mess on the carpet. “Luffy!”

“(Y/n) no loves me, can’t even eat,” he whined while walking out of the bedroom again, and it was not news that he was munching on something when he came back. Still, he was quickly grinning again as he kicked his flip-flops off and threw himself on the bed, immediately crawling up to your lap again, all clean, so you wrapped your arms around his waist. “(Y/n),” he mumbled as he rubbed his cheek against yours while throwing his arms around your neck. “Mmm, I think this day will be perfect if I get one more thing…”

Luffy kissed your lips messily, practically shoving his lips on yours until you started kissing him back, groaning against his lips. The positive reaction was a cue for Luffy to start grinding his hips against you, turning the kiss messier as his breathing started growing erratic.

“Please, please,” Luffy mumbled softly but eventually fell silent, grinning victoriously instead once your lips started working on his jaw. A nice sensation spread through his body, and his cock twitched in his shorts. Soft sparkles spread through his body, though they weren’t enough—they were nothing compared to what he felt with your hands all over him, with you deep inside. He hummed, cheeks heating up as he wrapped his arms tighter around you.

“Fuck, Luff’,” you groaned against Luffy’s neck, barely able to breathe; he only loosened up when you started to kiss and nip on his neck, soon enough finding the spot that made him melt more. Your hands slipped into his vest, pressed to his skin, feeling the scars and little bumps that rose with a shiver running down his spine. He pressed himself closer, if possible, gasping at the friction on his cock again—it also made you groan as the blood rushed to your cock.

It took you a solid minute to get Luffy to let go of you so that you’d take his vest off, but the piece of clothing was soon tossed to the ground, and Luffy eventually needed to get up from your lap to remove his shorts as well. He was a little messy with it, so it gave you enough time to undress and still watch him kicking off his shorts. Rolling your eyes, you wrapped an arm around his waist to pull him to your lap; he gasped and soon settled down when his back pressed to your chest.

“There’s my baby boy,” you mumbled against his shoulder with a smile, placing your feet on the mattress and his thighs over yours so that his legs would spread open along with yours.

You looked down, observing Luffy’s flushed, already leaking cock that lined up with your own, which made the size difference even more obvious. It’s not that his cock was small, no; it was very proportional to him, but compared to yours… Well, he was smaller when compared to you, in general, and the disparity did something to both of you in situations like that. Your hands wrapped around his waist, rubbing it lightly and feeling his ribs, while soft kisses were left along his shoulder.

“We don’t have lube here, so we’ll have to improvise,” you sighed in fake disappointment.

“Wh— Mmph!” Whatever Luffy had to say gave space to a moan once your hand wrapped around his cock, hot and tight around it. The first couple of strokes were good, but once you started using the pre-cum as makeshift lube, he whined, body jerking on your lap to seek more of the touches. He couldn’t do a lot, though, not with your arm wrapped around his waist like that. He hummed, holding your forearms.

“Feels good?” You whispered into his ear, twisting your wrist through the motions. Sometimes, it’d make him grind against you, snatching a groan or a hiss, and as much as it felt so good, you tried your best to avoid it, to keep the best saved for later. “How fast can you cum, sweetheart?”

The words alone made Luffy whine, twitching in your hand as you kept the strokes going, while your free hand gently fondled his balls. He tried to take a deep breath, just to be interrupted by consecutive gasps at the way your grip grew tighter around him. Your thumb worked so well on that spot under the head of his cock, stroking it just the way Luffy liked, making his body feel all hot and his mind spin.

“There…” Luffy gasped, letting his head fall back against your shoulder. He rocked his hips into your hands messily, barely able to keep himself together, despite the fact you only gave him a simple hand job. He hissed, arching his back when your thumb pressed to his slit, rubbing it, fuuuck… His breath became more erratic as you swiped your finger across his tip, spreading the pre-cum over it before your hand was rubbing up and down his cock again, so tight, so warm, so good.

Luffy whimpered, arching his back as the knot in his lower stomach tightened. He uselessly tried to warn you: every word that escaped his lips was nothing but a stuttering mess mixed with the moans that filled the room so loudly. Your hand wrapped around him tighter, moving faster, and he was cumming. His mind went blank as he arched his back against you. That was fast and sudden, milking the cum out of Luffy, but he couldn’t have done a lot against it, given the way you’d been touching all of his sensitive spots so fine.

“There it is,” you sighed, hand tight around Luffy as you gave him a final stroke. He mumbled something in a questioning tone, something that didn’t get an answer and that probably vanished from his mind the moment he felt your fingers press to his entrance.

A groan came from Luffy at the soft touch around his entrance, circling it until your finger started to slowly push in. You were fucking using his own cum as lube, and it made Luffy’s mind grow fuzzy—at least fuzzier than it already was, with the recent orgasm. His legs still twitched with the aftershocks of the climax, reacting to every little touch of you, even the shallow thrusts of your finger into his ass.

Since it was just to lube him up, you didn’t linger a lot. Soon, there was a second finger, pushing the cum deep into his hole, making sure to coat Luffy’s warm walls nicely with it, though you had to keep an arm tight around his hips to hold him in place.

“Done,” you said with a soft sigh as your fingers left him with an obscene wet sound. “Now you can have me.” A grin tugged on your lips before you let soft kisses along Luffy’s shoulder. His chest heaved up and down as he tried to catch his breath, so you gave him a little break, letting your hand run along the inside of his thigh soothingly.

A while passed, and you tapped Luffy’s thigh and reached a hand down, guiding your cock into Luffy at the same time he adjusted his hips to lower himself on it. He gasped, feeling his walls slowly adjust around your cock as it pushed in, stretching him so much better than your fingers, sending sparkles through his body with that nice burning feeling. You were so big, making his breath falter just by taking you in.

“Nnngh, (y/n),” Luffy gasped, hips twitching; you were all the way in, cock pressing against all the right spots. He felt like he was unable to even breathe without spilling a moan.

“You’re so tight,” you groaned into his ear. It made him clench around your cock. “Fuuuck,” you gasped and wrapped your arms around Luffy’s hips to keep him in place as you moved your hips lightly, sinking your heels into the mattress. He whined breathlessly, fingers sinking into your forearms. It was a slow fuck, both due to the mood and the position, but it still made Luffy into a stuttering mess. You doubted Luffy was able to chain more than two words to form a coherent thought at all.

Your cock felt so good inside him, rubbing against his gummy walls just the right way, your tip brushing a spot that made his thighs quiver every time you thrust in. Luffy felt so hot—he was hard and leaking again already, practically drooling, all because of the overstimulation, and he loved it. He loved the way you could erase every thought away from his mind, all because you could handle him so well and your cock was so big. He whined when you thrust in a little sharper.

“Ahh, you should feel this, baby,” you groaned. It was a little of a struggle to get Luffy to let go of your forearm, but you could eventually guide his hand to his own tummy. “Can you feel it?” You whispered, continuing with a deep thrust at a time, despite the way the muscles on the back of your thighs already started complaining. “Can you feel the bulge? Can you feel me inside you?”

Luffy gasped as he heard that, whimpering as he focused on the way his skin shifted under his palm in sync with the way your cock moved inside him. His eyes rolled back, his cock twitching between his legs as he felt you start moving a little faster.

You hissed into his ear, wrapping your arm tighter around his waist. “You feel so tight, so good, oh fuck, Luffy,” you gasped, keeping his hand pressed to the bulge. The pressure made him feel better, somehow, so he kept clenching around you; your cock twitched inside him. “Ahh, Luffy,” you groaned, “come on, do something.”

The pain that tugged on your muscles gave you a break when you relaxed against the bed, trying to catch your breath. Luffy didn’t react at first. He needed a few pokes and tugs until he finally sighed in defeat and sat up properly, gulping as he placed his hands on your thighs.

A moan escaped your lips when Luffy started riding you. Your eyes were glued to him, watching your cock repeatedly disappear inside his ass as he whined with practically every movement. He was messy with it, barely able to keep up with a rhythm. Hissing, you took hold of his hips to guide him lightly, at least trying to help Luffy out a little, even more so when your arousal was pooling down more in your gutter. You even pushed your hips up a little to meet his movements once or twice, helping both of you grow closer to the approaching climax.

Luffy let his head hang for a moment before it fell back when he arched his back, gasping and clenching around you, and you presumed he was cumming already, so you did your best to chase your release as well, not wanting to overstimulate him a lot. Your hands were tight around Luffy’s hips, thrusts knocking the breaths out of him, and he whimpered when feeling you cum deep inside him, making sure to rub the cum along his walls in shallow thrusts that didn’t last long.

Once your thrusts stopped, Luffy allowed himself to fall back against you, back pressed to your chest again. You were about to say something, but the words died on your tongue at the sound of soft snoring. Typical. What did you even expect?

“Right,” you sighed, gently placing Luffy beside you on the bed, hissing a little when your cock slipped out and met the cold air again, but you weren’t any better. The sleep tugged on your eyelids heavily, making you yawn again, slowly dozing off as you spooned him.

.𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟.

[cinnamoneve]

thinking about satoru indulging you if you tried to dom him ♡

18+. mdni. block tag #cinnsfw

it's not his usual role, but how could he say no to your pretty little face putting on a stern look? sure, he'd indulge you just this once.

a shit-eating smirk would never leave his face though, barely taking you seriously as you tried your best to order him around like he does with you.

"take off your pants," you commanded. and he obeyed, unbuttoning and unzipping his trousers slowly, making sure your eyes stayed on him as he stripped.

"oh yeah? and what now, love?" he'd tease, as you struggled with what comes next.

"um, okay, let me think, satoru..." you'd trail off.

you'd fumble around with the blindfold, tie the weakest cuffs, and all your attempts at holding him down would be clumsy and half-assed.

he wouldn't stop you though, just admire you as you toddled your way through it.

"shut up. i don't want to hear it," you mumble, trying to untangle the rope to tie him up.

"mmm, i didn't say anything though," he laughs.

"i know you were thinking it, and i don't wanna hear it,"

his laugh was airy and carefree, almost patronizing. even if you were in charge, it was obvious who was pulling the strings.

"you're in charge, baby, don't let me stop you"

your face grew hot as he watched your every move, eager for your directions.

he was too big to pin or hold down, and he knew it. he usually tossed you around with ease, and you found yourself struggling without that upper-hand.

"i'm waiting, baby"

you flopped on the bed next to him, giving up.

in one swift motion, he flips to hover over your face to pull you into a hungry kiss, shoving his tongue into every possible area of your mouth.

"ah, satoru," you manage to breathe out.

"this is taking too long, can i take care of you now?" he asks, his desperation laced between his teasing tone. and you almost didn't catch it, but satoru didn't have a good poker face when it came to this.

"fine," you give in. how could you not?

"good. now, lie on your back for me honey, i'll make you feel so good"

all content © cinnamoneve 2023. do not repost, modify, steal, or copy without permission.

[gravehags]

separated by a degree

Pairing: Cirrus x f!Reader

Rating: Explicit

18+ ONLY MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Tags: domme Cirrus, mild BDSM, face sitting, pussy eating, fingering

Words: 2,742

Summary: You've had a rough week. Cirrus is here to make it all better.

a/n: RING A DING DING PART 6 Y'ALL like it goes without saying but Cirrus could step on my neck and I'd say thank you so this is an ode to that

@terzosbignaturals EAT UP

~~~

This week had just been too much. Too fucking much.

Ever since you bid Mountain and Aether a lingering, intimate adieu after your evening together, everything has gone to shit. The plumbing in your shower - no one else’s, you sourly think - has gone out, forcing you to have to travel all the way across the abbey to Cumulus’ room every night just to bathe. It’s not that you don’t want to see her - quite the opposite - but something about inelegantly stomping the halls in your damp flip-flops and wet hair back to your room makes you agitated. On top of that, you’ve been assigned to your usual library duties as well as being an altar sibling every mass. You’re exhausted, both mentally and physically, and you haven’t been this anxious since you were a novitiate in Papa Secondo’s summoning classes. You’ve barely seen the ghouls, let alone spent time with them, and the loneliness is beginning to take its toll. You’re currently flopped on your duvet half naked after a long mass led by Papa Nihil, groaning into the empty space when there’s a knock at your door.

“What?” you shout, throwing an arm over your eyes.

“It’s me,” comes a feminine voice from the other side whom you identify as Cirrus. Shooting up from your bed you pad over to the door and open it while still hiding your body behind it.

“Gonna let me in?” she purrs, giving what’s visible of your form a once over.

“Uh…I’m…indisposed.” you say stupidly, to which she snorts.

“Half the pack has seen everything you have to offer and now you’re shy? Cute.” She’s smirking and leaning against the entryway as you grip the door tighter.

“What’s up?” you ask in a high pitched voice, changing the subject. If this is a come on you’re flattered, and part of you aches for it but the ache in your brain and body is much more powerful.

“Wanted to offer my services,” she says, tracing a claw down the wood of the door.

“Oh?” you say, somewhat intrigued. “And what does that entail?”

“Stress relief,” Cirrus says airily, “you’ve been going through so much recently, sweetheart. And I,” she steps forward slightly, entering your space, “can help.”

You don’t even realize that you’ve opened the door wider until she’s curling a lock of your hair around her long finger and staring at you intently. Her tail slips around you and rubs gently against the curve of your ass. Your lips are parted and you’re about to say something when all of a sudden she’s stepping back. 

“Not tonight, though, I understand,” she says, examining her nails with a sigh.

“I need to shower,” you blurt out. A vaguely sinister grin unfurls on her lips.

“Use mine,” she says, leaning her head against the doorframe, tail flicking behind her lazily.

Your mouth is dry. “Okay. Yeah just let me…let me get my stuff.”

“Just a robe should be fine,” Cirrus comments, her eyes drifting towards the ceiling. “You won’t need much else.”

You clench your thighs together at the surge of wetness that creeps out of you and your clit throbs at the brief contact. If Cirrus sees you do it, she doesn’t comment on it. Abandoning your post at the door you go back to the bathroom and remove your bra and panties, already soaked through. Sliding the fluffy, dark red bathrobe over your shoulders and securing it at the waist, you return to Cirrus.

“Ready,” you say, sounding altogether too goddamn eager and Cirrus knows it judging from the way the points of her teeth peek out from between her lips.

“C’mon baby,” she purrs, escorting you down the hall with her hand on the small of your back. “I’ll give you exactly what you need.”

The walk down to the ghoul den is quiet, but you do pass Aether in the hallway and give him a little wave. When he sees who accompanies you he lets out a rather ominous chuckle and winks at the other ghoul. Cirrus looks entirely too pleased as she opens her bedroom door and ushers you inside, closing the door behind the both of you with a loud snap.

Her room is a beautiful collection of dark blues and blacks, making you feel like you’re hanging amidst the stars in the night sky. It’s calming and she seems to enjoy how your shoulders slump in relaxation.

“Go shower,” she nudges you towards the bathroom door, “then I’ll take care of you.”

You’re about to shut the door behind you when she calls out, “oh and…no need to put the robe back on.”

There it is, that sensation in your belly you feel in every encounter you have with the ghouls. That wonderful feeling of anticipation that lingers in your veins, the promise of something positively delicious, has you grinning as you turn the water on.

Cirrus’ products are nice…very nice…and you enjoy the heady fragrance that perfumes your hair after you step out of the shower. Drying off, you regard yourself in the semi-fogged over mirror. You have no idea what to expect from this encounter and it turns you on immensely. With a sigh, you drop the towel and head out to see Cirrus. Opening the door you hesitate slightly, until you peek your head around it and see what’s waiting for you. While you were in the shower, Cirrus transformed. She is no longer wearing the standard ghoul outfit you’ve come to expect, but rather a beautiful black lace lingerie set that makes your jaw drop. Your gaze drags over the rounded curve of her hips and her dark nipples - hard beneath the expensive material. Suddenly, you become hyper aware of how you’re standing stark naked in Cirrus’ bathroom doorway and move to cover yourself. She watches you hunch over yourself and grabs something from the nightstand. You recognize what’s in her hands as a leather flogger, the handle intricately and tightly woven. She runs the tendrils through her fingers as she approaches you. Flushing from tip to toe you move to touch her - anything to distract from your vulnerable state - but she stops you with the end of the whip against your sternum.

“Ah, ah, ah,” she smiles, canting her hip, “you have to earn that, pet.”

You pout at her and she gives you a look, tucking the end of the flogger under your chin to raise it.

“Get on the bed,” she snarls suddenly, “hands and knees.”

You feel her eyes follow you as you make your way to the bed and climb atop the dark duvet. On your hands and knees, as she requested, you feel a sense of humiliation wash over you and also…something else. You’re enjoying yourself. With a grin, you arch your back to expose your ass and cunt to Cirrus’ gaze. She approaches behind you and runs the flogger along your back and down your legs, making you shiver. When you attempt to crane your neck to look at her she strikes, hard and fast against your ass. You cry out and jolt forward, making her giggle.

“Look at you, presenting yourself like a bitch in heat,” she purrs, once again dragging the flogger gently against your bare skin. The sting of the first strike hasn’t faded when she hits you again. The bite of the leather tendrils against your haunches makes you cunt ache and you feel yourself drip onto the covers. She hums as she observes the mess you’re making.

“Do you like being exposed like this?” She strikes a third time, your mind spinning. When you don’t answer she strikes again.

“Yes!” you howl, cunt clenching around nothing.

“Yes, what?” she asks sweetly.

“Yes…mistress?” you guess and she strikes you again, making you sob.

“Say it like you mean it.”

When she runs the flat of her palm over the abused skin of your ass you want to cry. It’s the first time she’s touched your bare flesh and you ache for her.

“Yes, mistress!” you pant as she squeezes the globe of your ass hard enough for her claws to dig in.

“How much more can you take?” Cirrus wonders aloud, coming over to your face to tilt your chin up once again. Your damp hair hangs around your face and tears streak down your cheeks. Cirrus gives you a pointed look, indicating that although she is in control, she is ultimately asking you for permission. You nod your head in her grip.

“More, please,” you say hoarsely. She breaks character for a moment and allows her face to split in a beautiful smile.

“Good girl,” she coos, running a single claw down your cheek. “Such a good girl for me.”

You exhale shakily, feeling more wetness slide down your thighs.

When she returns to her position at your ass and cracks the flogger across your skin once more, you practically choke on the broken moan that slips out of you. Your arms are shaking, trying their damndest to hold you up. She slides the leather tendrils between your thighs to graze against your clit and your arms give out. You sob into the duvet as you prop yourself up on your elbows - the best you can do in your state. Cirrus doesn’t seem to mind as she is instead content to drag the flogger through your sopping folds, enjoying the way your mess glistens on the leather.

“Can you handle two more?” she asks idly, caressing your ass again.

“Yes, mistress,” you pant, whining when she removes her hand from you. The flogger comes down on your skin twice in rapid succession and your moan is more of a shout. Cirrus steps away from the bed and sets the flogger down.

“So good for me,” she croons, running a finger down your spine. “Can you be good for me a little longer?”

Your forehead hits the duvet as you whimper into the fabric. The ache in your backside stings like nothing you’ve ever felt before, but the ache in your cunt takes precedence. You push yourself back to sit on your knees and let out a ragged breath.

“Yes, mistress,” you say with surprising steadiness. Cirrus beams at you and climbs on the bed next to you.

“Lie down, pet,” she murmurs, nudging you up. You crawl towards the pillows and practically collapse on them, simply relieved to no longer be on your knees. She watches your every move as you adjust and then slowly, she slides up your body. You’re desperate to touch her, and tell her so. She laughs, her breath hot against your skin as she traces patterns into your side.

“Hmm, I suppose you’ve earned it,” she murmurs and your hands fly to her waist. You want to see more, feel more of her so you cautiously slip the lace underwear she’s wearing off her hips. She allows it, still propped up above you, and kicks the garment off when it slides down her legs. 

“You have one more task, pet, and you’ll get your reward,” she coos in your ear, before pushing herself up. Grabbing the headboard she pulls her body up yours and in a smooth motion straddles your head. Cirrus hovers there for a moment and you sigh when you glimpse how fucking wet she is. The knowledge that she is just as affected as you are makes your heart sing and you’re desperate to taste her. Slowly, too slowly for your liking but you remain silent, she lowers her cunt to your mouth. You slide your hands up her thighs to grip at her hips before leaning up to give her an experimental lick. When your tongue runs through her folds, tasting her for the first time, the both of you moan in tandem. You are dying to hear her make that noise again so you swipe your tongue upwards once more, this time teasing at her clitoral hood. Her hips buck and you hear the headboard creak under her grip. When you latch your mouth onto her cunt, she gasps so hard she almost chokes. Exposing her clit you wrap your lips around her and suckle at the bud.

“Fuck, baby,” she whines from above you, and your grip on her hips tightens. “That’s it, don’t stop.”

So you don’t.

Your face is a dripping mess as you continue to suck at her clit, pausing every once in a while to drag your tongue through her. You can tell she’s trying her hardest to remain in this position, her thighs shaking with the effort. When you bring her hips down lower onto your mouth, you groan into her folds and she whimpers. Gently, you probe your tongue inside of her and she lets out a loud moan that makes your clit throb. As you fuck her with your mouth her hips begin shifting. She’s riding your face as delicately as she can but when you latch yourself onto her clit again her bucks become fiercer. She’s chanting your name as you moan against her cunt, sliding one hand in your hair to pull at it. Her body is tensing - you know her end is coming - so your assault becomes vicious, wanting desperately to see her come undone.

“Yes, yes, yes,” she pants, “I’m gonna cum, baby. Ah–ah–I’m gonna–”

Cirrus climaxes with a high pitched drawn out moan, and you continue licking and sucking at her. Her body twists and contorts above your head as you hold her firmly against your mouth. After several moments, she murmurs your name and you reluctantly release her from your grasp. When she moves off of you and settles in between your legs, she gazes at you adoringly. You’re a mess - covered in her slick from the nose down - and you lick your lips as you look at her.

“You,” she breathes, and you let your lips slip into a smile. You’re practically glowing with pride and she beams back at you while stroking the insides of your thighs.

“You’ve more than earned your reward, my pet,” she says, nuzzling your mound. When she finally spreads your legs, a litany of “thank yous” fall from your lips. Just as she did, you cry out when her mouth slides over your clit and she wastes no time in drawing your pleasure from you. She hums against your cunt as she slides one finger, then two in between your folds and begins fucking you intently. Cirrus isn’t here to tease you any more - she’s on a mission - and she’s ruthless. You’ve got your fingers buried in her hair, thumbs caressing the base of her horns, as she pistons her fingers inside you at a staggering rate. 

“Cirrus,” you keen, all formalities forgotten, “Cirrus, honey, don’t stop.”

When you reach your climax you feel it from head to toe, building at the base of your spine and spreading to all your extremities. You cry out her name again and again and she continues fucking you through your orgasm. Your body is limp and twitching and she’s still going until you finally beg for her to stop. Now her face is covered in your juices as she leans back and removes her bra, finally exposing all of herself to you. Arousal twitches slightly in your gut as you view her bare breasts, but ultimately nothing comes of it as she snuggles against you.

“Goddamn,” you breathe and she smiles against your shoulder.

“You good?” she asks, reaching up to pet your still-damp hair.

“You could say that,” you grin, turning on your side to face her. She looks beautiful, her cheeks just as flushed at yours. And just as sticky. When you move to get up to grab a wet rag she frowns and drags you back down, wrapping her arm around your body and bringing you close.

“You smell like me,” she says, inhaling deep at your scalp.

“Yeah, I’m covered in your pussy juice,” you say wryly, which makes her laugh out loud. The sound makes your heart ache and you rest a palm on her cheek.

“Thank you for this,” you murmur quietly. She leans in to give you the only kiss of the night you’ve had, and it’s so terribly soft. She’s purring as she pulls away from you.

“You make a good pet,” she says with a little half-grin. “Think I might keep you,”

That wouldn’t be so bad.

[irisintheafterglow]

End Game #8 (volleyball captain!gojo x you)

summary: you accompany the captain at a party on the gojo estate and he can't be serious for a single second.

wc: 2.1k

cw/tags: swearing, domestic satoru, creepy old men and therefore protective satoru, no specified gender but reader is wearing a dress, passive-aggressive insults because he's never serious ever, a tiny tiny bit of angst but lots of fluff, established relationship (i never get tired of tagging this)

note: there's no volleyball game play in this, just captain!satoru being captain boyfriend!satoru. also i'm literally creating a multiverse of characters in this au cuz there's like the gojo partner but then also the geto partner and soon i wanna make the inumaki partner and yeah i could talk about this for HOURS but ANYWAY hope you enjoy

likes, reblogs, and feedback are always appreciated <3

An infuriatingly obnoxious loop of “Get up, stupid, or I’ll hit you with my car!” invades your sleep and your hand flops aimlessly to turn your phone off. 

You prop yourself on an elbow, checking the clock on the nightstand and groaning when you see the time. “Satoru,” you say softly, but you’re met with a half-asleep grunt from the other occupant of the bed. The entire right side of his face is sunk into the sheets and his arm is still draped over your torso. He’d never looked more handsome, you thought, taking in the messy strands of white hair on the pillows and his limbs entangled with yours. You pat him gently, trying to crawl out from the blankets. “We have to get up now.”

“No, we don’t,” he mutters into bed, pulling you back down beside him onto the mattress effortlessly. With his chest to your back, he sighs deeply onto your neck and you fiddle with his fingers resting near your stomach. His body tended to run warm and the room smelled so much like him that you wanted to lay in it for the rest of time. You flip to face him and aren’t surprised to see him still burrowing into the plush covers. For once, his eyes weren’t the most prominent feature of his face; now, your finger traces the sharp angles under his chin and he smirks, eyelids still shut. “Like what you see?”

“Mhmm, very pretty.” A single finger becomes the rest of your hand as you comb some loose strands from his face, only for them to fall right back onto his forehead. He hums when you continue to run your fingers over his scalp all the way down to the hair on the back of his neck. Fuck, he’s so beautiful.

“Not as pretty as you, though.” A bright blue eye finally winks open and you smile. “Good morning, gorgeous.”

“Good morning, menace,” you tease and his jaw drops in fake-offense. “Time to get dressed.” 

“But I like when you wear my stuff instead.” His gaze flicks down to your torso, covered by one of his older, softer shirts from a summer intensive camp. “Stay a little longer.  I like looking at you.”

“The last thing we need is for your parents to come looking for you and see us laying in bed together.” His eyes widen and he abruptly shoots out from under the comforter, leaving you laughing on his pillows as he searches around his closet for his formal clothes. “Would you mind getting my–”

“Already on it, sweetheart,” he calls from behind the bathroom door, slinging the garment bag over his shoulder. “You know, honestly, it’s starting to hurt a little bit when you think I can’t read your mind.” 

“Forgive me for not expecting you to be thinking of me all the time, then.” Your eyebrow arches challengingly and he hangs your dress on the top of the mirror before peeling off his shirt. To your horror, you have to stop yourself from drooling. 

“I accept your apology. And, for the record, you’re the only thing on my mind. All the time.” He shoots you your favorite lopsided grin of his and you stare at him like a love-sick idiot. Despite harboring feelings for him for the past three years and finally establishing a relationship, you still felt a level of embarrassment seeing his bare chest. It was different from when he was changing with the rest of the team; now, every inch of lean muscle honed over years and years of training was on display for you and only you. He catches you staring from your gaping silence. “You’re being a hypocrite, my love.” The patronizing note in his voice snaps you out of your adoration. 

“What do you mean?”

“You tell me to get up and then stay in bed to ogle me. It’s not fair, and a bit perverted.” He shrugs, tugging on a white button-up and black slacks. You scoff and throw a pillow at him, indignantly kicking off the blankets and making your way to unzip the garment bag. 

“Your dad is going to kill us both if we’re late and you take longer than I do to get ready. I’d say it’s fair I gave you a head start.” You blow him a kiss before slipping into the bathroom to change. 

As predicted, Satoru ended up taking longer than you did to get dressed. Though he was already in his proper attire while you were still in your lounge clothes, it took the entire time you were in the bathroom for him to decide on a tie. In the end, he forgoes the tie altogether and you self-servingly undo some of the buttons of his shirt while his eyes rake over you in your dress. It was a deep shade of purple with a generous amount of skin exposed, something he picked out with you when he first asked you to be his date. 

“Do you like it?” He asks, even though you left him speechless when you first walked out of the dressing room. He had to bend forward to rest his elbows on his knees just to keep his lungs functioning. 

“Like it? I fucking live for it,” you breathe, spinning around in front of the mirror again and again to watch the fabric billow beneath you. It was incredibly flattering on your figure as well as easy to maneuver in. You looked incredible in it, but your face falls as a realization dawns on you. “Is it too much, you know–” He doesn’t miss a beat. 

“Did I tell you that I beat my deadlift PR yesterday?” 

“Baby, what does that have to do with the dress?” His eyes flick to your shoulders and then back to your face, raising his eyebrows expectantly like a teacher waiting for an answer. “Oh.” The smile makes its way back onto your expression and you admire yourself once more, no longer worried about any snide remarks or lingering stares with the foreboding guard at your back. 

“This dress was definitely a good choice,” he whispers in your ear as his hand guides you through the crowded entryway. “But, if anyone starts to agree with me, I’m gonna send them to kingdom come.”

“You always had a flair for drama.”

“That's why you fell for me, isn’t it?” You shake your head in lighthearted exasperation. As more people continue to invade your space, Satoru is behind you like a shadow, mirroring your every movement and never straying too far. “Take a right. I don’t wanna deal with the brass.” You steer clear of the boisterously laughing group of men immediately in front of you, but it’s too late. They spotted Satoru first, making him grimace, and then they spotted you. Before they can surround you further, he’s stepped in front of you to effectively block you from the leering stares of the men twice your age. 

“If it isn’t the crown prince of Jujutsu Volleyball,” one of them, a square-faced man with nauseatingly intense eyes, remarks coldly. “Shall we expect your absence from Nationals for yet another year?” Your temper flares and you’re about ready to rip out the man’s throat, but Satoru continues to appear calm and indifferent to the insults. 

“Hmm, I wasn’t aware they were allowing retirees into the building, let alone those who’ve already picked out their tombstone. Should I have the maid mark the calendar for your Celebration of Life?” Unconsciously, your hand finds his shoulder as if to warn him against any more biting words. He was being particularly ruthless tonight and you couldn’t help but think it was because you were there, too. 

“Watch your tongue, boy. You forget I control your team.” 

“Oh, I didn’t forget.” His hand flexes, curling into a fist and then opening again. He definitely wasn’t kidding about beating his PR deadlift. “I just don’t care.” The men stiffen at the blatant dismissal. Unable to squeeze any shred of entertainment from Satoru, their attention turns to you. 

“And who’s this?”

“None of your business, that’s who,” your boyfriend states casually, but the underlying threat in his voice was evident. His fingers continue to curl and uncurl and you take hold of his wrist, rubbing your thumb into his palm. With your other hand, you snag a glass of punch from a nearby server’s tray. You knew it took everything in Satoru’s body to remain cordial, to not raise his lip in a snarl or slam the man’s head into the tile beneath your shoes. Of course, he had his own way of fighting without violence. His eyes narrow for a nanosecond before he puts on a nauseatingly fake grin of celebration. “Congratulations, by the way, on your new girlfriend.”

“What the hell do you think–”

“Maybe our respective partners can go on a daytrip sometime, seeing as they’re the same age,” he smiles maliciously and you just about choke on your drink. He’s turned to you with exaggerated concern in an instant, unable to keep the smirk from creeping onto his face as he rubs your back. The group of men are stunned and the square-faced one has turned a vibrant shade of red. Satoru, on the other hand, radiates triumphant self-satisfaction while he re-establishes his hand on your back. “Good to see you.” 

You aren’t bothered for the remainder of the evening, most likely from fear of the six-foot, lanky-legged bodyguard attached to your hip. Suguru arrives shortly after your confrontation with the higher-ups and your eyebrows hit the ceiling when you see the student council vice president on his arm. You unabashedly gawk when they enter and direct Satoru’s attention to his best friend. He looks at you in disbelief, back at Suguru, and then back at you. Several times, you accidentally step on his feet while you’re dancing in the middle of the floor. 

“Since when did Suguru have game?” You’re physically unable to wipe the expression of shock from your face. 

“Your guess is as good as mine,” Satoru whispers back over the sound of classical strings. You both crane your necks to follow the pair’s movement around the room like hawks. The vice-captain must feel your stares on the back of his head and he flips you both the bird when his date isn’t looking. Neither of you are deterred in the slightest. “At least he’s still Suguru.”

“That is not a pair that I saw coming.” 

“To be fair,” he shrugs, “neither are we.”

At 10:00, Satoru’s father announces himself at the top of the staircase in the foyer for several toasts and it takes all of your willpower not to roll your eyes. You cringe inwardly when he gestures to Satoru, whose nose scrunches in disgust at the shallow praise that was, really, all for show. There’s applause and flimsy well-wishes, but by 11:00, you’re confessing that you’re socially drained for the night and you’re back in his clothes half an hour later. 

“We’ve done a lot of stupid things, but I think that party was one of the stupidest,” he declares as he flops onto his bed next to you. You hum in tired agreement and snuggle further into his blankets.

“Stupider than putting a fake cockroach in the changing room and scaring the hell out of everyone?”

“It’s definitely up there. Kinji was truly out of his mind for that one.” You huff a quiet laugh against his chest, relishing in how easily his arms slip around you and pull you flush against his body. “You look hot as shit in that, by the way,” he murmurs into your ear. He nods to the alternate version of the team’s jersey covering your body, a muted shade of purple with black sleeves. It’s the same uniform he’d be wearing in a few days' time when you step into the bright lights of the city stadium, and the same one you hope to wear after he wins every team he plays against. 

“You’re gonna smell like my body wash during Nationals if you don’t wash this, Satoru.”

“That’s kind of the point, dear.” You snort and close your eyes while he presses kisses to your hairline.

“What, are you going to war or something? I’m gonna be right there with you the entire time.” Your mouth widens into a yawn and you struggle to keep your eyes open. 

“I hope you’re right there with me beyond that, too.” His voice is so low, it’s barely audible, but you hear it and make a promise in your heart to fulfill his wish. He was recently contacted for Olympic team tryouts, but the future after your last high school tournament was relatively a mystery. For now, you settle into his chest and inhale him again. 

“You can’t get rid of me now that you’ve got me, Satoru.”

“Promise?”

“On all the red asters I’m gonna grow in our garden.” It’s the last thing you remember saying before drifting back to sleep. 

Sure, he belonged to volleyball, but he belonged to you first.

aLSO CHECK OUT THIS GORGEOUS FUCKIGN ARTWORK FROM @mididoodles

[no1frogfan]

Impending, part 1

Matsukawa Issei x afab reader

Word count: ~1.1k

Tags & warnings: a bit of drinking, eventual smut (in the next part)

Note: Oops, this was supposed to be 500 words of porn without plot but now it’s going to be a multi-part porn with feelings. I’m the only one who didn’t see that coming. Here you go mica :* @princesskazuya

part 2

“Thought I’d find you down here. Mom and dad want you to make an appearance before grandma has to leave.”

Hiro grunts, eyes glued to the television where Princess Peach is gaining on Wario.

“Oh. Hey Issei.”

Unlike Hiro, he greets you in response, sidelong glance lingering for just a moment before returning to the tv.

You make your way down the rest of the basement stairs to flop onto the ratty old couch behind them, beer swishing at the movement. The boys lay side-by-side, splayed out on their stomachs on the carpeted floor. They’re both so tall now that they barely fit between the couch and the tv all stretched out like this. It makes it hard not to think about the last time you saw them together. They used to be the same height as you and so scrawny, bony limbs poking out of baggy t-shirts and gym shorts. You could’ve taken them both in a fight, easy — and more than once you did.

But if you thought Hiro’s grown �� Somehow Issei got even taller than your brother. Bigger too.

In the lead now, Princess Peach rounds the bend for the last lap. Wario is slowly closing in after an unlucky shell shot sent him tumbling off a cliff.

You tuck one leg under the other and sip your beer. Their bottles sit forgotten on the table as they jostle for the lead. What’s happening on screen is not much different from what’s in front of you as they try to knock the controller out of the other’s hands, shit-talking and shoving each other aggressively.

By the time they’ve reached the last quarter of the track, they’re just full-on wrestling. You hurriedly pull your other leg up out of harm’s way and snatch up their beers so they don’t get knocked off the table. The other racers pass by as they grapple in earnest — Hiro’s laid out on top trying to put Issei in a headlock but Issei hunches over, arms bulging as he grabs Hiro’s thigh and flips him onto his back with a thud.

You just roll your eyes.

They’ve always been like this — rowdy and obnoxious. You’d think more boys would make things more chaotic, but their other friends somehow kept them in line when they all hung out together. When it was just the two of them, they were a way bigger pain in the ass.

“Takahiro, get up here!” A muffled yell comes from upstairs.

“Dad’s calling for you.”

When they don’t stop fighting, you kick Hiro hard in the ass. “Hey!”

“Ow! What the fuck?” Hiro kicks back, missing you by a mile.

“Dad’s calling for you,” you repeat.

“Ugh,” he grumbles and pushes himself up off the floor, still catching his breath. He grabs his half-finished beer out of your hand and flips you off before heading upstairs. “Don’t touch my game.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll make sure to win for you,” you call after him.

“I said don’t touch it!”

“No promises!”

When you turn back, Issei is already holding up Hiro’s controller, one thick eyebrow raised and a wicked grin on his face. You mirror his grin.

A whiff of something clean and citrusy tickles your nose when you lean forward. It freezes you in place for a split second before your brain kicks back into gear, trading his beer for the controller and settling back comfortably cross-legged.

“Ready to get wrecked?”

It used to be so easy to rile them up. Issei just chuckles at your taunt now. Sitting up, he pulls down the shirt that’s ridden up his stomach in the tussle, covering the churn of muscle underneath. His shoulder brushes against your knee as he leans back against the couch. His hair has gotten longer, resting in easy waves atop his head. From this angle, the light catches the sheen of sweat on the back of his neck where a few curls lay plastered against his nape. This close, you can smell the salty tang of sweat sneaking through the cologne.

“You remember how to play?” The bass of his voice rumbles through you. That’s new too.

You startle when he twists around to look up at you through hooded eyes.

It’s cool down in the basement, perfect for escaping the heat of the afternoon, but you’re out of the frying pan and into the fire it seems because he’s practically laying his sweaty torso in your lap, one elbow draped over your thigh, his heavy bicep propped on you…

“Yeah, I remember.” Your voice comes out like a purr instead of a sting and he smirks.

You straighten up, shoving his arm off you. “Just hurry up.”

His eyes dart down to your chest with a hum and he scrutinizes you one last time before turning around. Thankfully, he doesn’t say anything else before he starts the race.

Hiro clomps back downstairs just as you cross the finish line. You’d eked out a win, barely. Mostly because you got lucky with the items. Without a word, Hiro plucks the controller out of your hands and resumes his earlier position on his stomach. Issei makes no move to join him. Instead, he plants a palm on your knee to push himself up off the floor and sinks down next to you on the couch.

You keep your eyes trained on the tv, not on him, and not on his hands. Not on his long fingers or the size of his palms.

Your senses become distinctly attuned to his proximity and the itch of his leg hair against your skin with every slight shift. You swipe through your phone wondering if it’s a distraction for him too.

“Anything catch your interest?”

A breathy murmur against your neck makes you jolt. The last race has already ended and they’re waiting for the next to start. When you turn, he’s only a hair’s breadth away, expression hesitant but goading.

Hiro yawns and you’re suddenly reminded of where you are.

You push Issei off and spring to your feet.

“I’m going to grab another beer.”

Matsukawa lets out a low groan as you scurry toward the stairs.

“What?” Makki twists around to look at him, then follows Mattsun’s line of sight up the steps until his eyeline hits the back of your thighs. “Gross, dude. Stop that.”

“No.”

“Fuck you.”

[chishiyaisasnack]

Dare, part 3

Part 2 Part 4

A new chapter of the smut series is here! Thank you for all the support on the last two parts. This part is written in both Chishiyas and the readers pov. When you see ”——” it means that it changes pov. When you see ”————” it means it just jumps forward a tiny bit in time.

I’m writing and posting this on mobile so I apologize for any wierd formatting.

Disclaimer! This is pure smut and very nsfw. Stay away if you’re not of age or if you don’t like to read about it. This is fiction. Be safe and use a condom irl.

Tags: @chishiyashoodie @jimingotjams

Chishiya was rarely a man on a mission but the time he spent trying to figure out how he could get a hold of sex toys were taking up most of his time right now. He could ask Kuina, but he would either have to tell her that he was going to use it on you, himself, someone else, or maybe that he was planning on gluing them to some of Niragis guns (which honestly sounded like a great idea for a later date). Either way, he was never going to hear the end of it. So that option was a no. Then there were the option of just asking the Hatter if he had some. If anyone would have a stash of toys it would be him. But that was also a clear no. The third option was to actually go and look for a store, and even though it was the most bothersome one it was the only option he could stand. So the next time he had to go to a game he decided to leave early and walk through the side alleys of Shibuya until he found one. And he actually did. Who knew that whoever created this world would keep sex shops in it? It was the first time he was in one and he was almost too overwhelmed with how many things that actually existed within the world of adult toys. Dildos in shapes and sizes he couldn’t even imagine, vibrators, rings, ropes, handcuffs and so on. Just the variations of lube to choose from was endless. He ended up picking out some of the simpler stuff, things that didn’t seem too complicated to use. He grabbed it and a handful of batteries and then hid it in a backpack that he later left outside the game area so that no one would see him carrying around a bag of dildos. He’d rather die than face that scenario.

When the game was over and he’d made his way back to the Beach he was exhausted, but put his remaining energy into getting back to his room unseen. One good part of making everyone dislike him was that nobody would ever stop to talk to him, just like he wanted. As soon as he got back to his room he locked the door, turned on the bedside lamp, sat down on the bed and got to work with figuring out how everything he brought back with him worked.

————

Finding you was easy. You were usually either in your room or on the roof, looking out over the city and trying to get away from the reality you all were in. He always started with your room, and today, once again, he found you staring at him with that wonderful, annoyed sigh coming out of your mouth when you opened the door to see who was knocking on it. He had really gotten in your head and he enjoyed it immensely.

”What do you want Chishiya?” you asked while he pushed his way between you and the doorframe without even thinking about asking if he could come in. He kicked off his flip flops and walked towards your bed.

”I took up on your offer and found some stuff” Chishiya answered with a smug face as he put down the backpack on the bed.

”My offer? Stuff?” you questioned to the sound of him openening the zipper. You turned around to face the bed and was met with him turning the backpack upside down and a flood of sex toys falling onto your bed.

Chishiya turned his gaze over to you. The face you were making was great, confused and shocked, but with a hint of amusement your eyes.

——

”What the fuck, Chishiya?” You could barely believe your eyes but you had to admit that you were curious. ”How? Why? When?” you asked, trying to take it all in.

”I found a shop on my way to the game last night” he started explaining, like it was the most normal thing in the world. ”You said you’d use them while I watched if I got some for you but I don’t know what you like so I got a few for you to choose from.” he proclaimed while pointing at the colourful pile he had created on the bed.

”A few? There’s like twenty of them there” You didn’t have to count to know that there were an excessive amount of dildos, vibrators and other stuff laying on the foot of your bed, spread out in all their glory.

Chishiya smirked as he sat down on the bed and waited for you to come over.

”So, which one - or ones - do you want to start with?” he asked, leaned his head to the side, and patted of the bed to signal for you to sit down.

”Okay, first of all, who said that I was going to use any of them?” you stated as you started to make your way to the bed.

”You did. You said that you’d show me as long as I didn’t make the toy myself. I didn’t make any of these so that deal is done.”

”You… I said I might use them. Might” you crossed your arms over your chest in an attempt to look more assured but in reality you were just trying to grasp the situation. A rainbow of pleasure was layed out in front of you, and you had to choose if you wanted to try it out in front of the man you couldn’t stand most or the time, or if you wanted to throw him out of the window.

In the corner of your eyes Chishiya looked up at you, eyes dark and curious. He already knew that you would say yes, the glint in your eyes said it all. He just needed to coax it out of you. So he said, with that low, dark voice that he knew that you couldn’t get enough of:

”Then which one might you use for me, y/n?”

————

How did you end up laying down on the bed with your head on a pillow, in your panties and with a dildo in your hand? To Chishiyas great pleasure you gave in as soon as you heard that voice again - the fucker knew that you had a soft spot for that voice, even though it’s only been a few days since the first and only time he’d used it. He was of sitting on the egde of the bed with a front row view of your body and what would soon be the greatest show of his life.

”Aren’t you going to take those off?” he questioned and pointed at your lacy underwear still secured on your hips. The rest of your clothes were already in a pile on the floor but somehow you hadn’t mustered the confidence to take off the last piece.

”Mhmm” was all you could answer, still trying to get over the feeling of embarrassment that was occupying your mind. You had chosen to go with what you knew, a pink dildo type vibrator, smooth with a bent end that were there to put pressure on your g-spot inside of you. It came with a bunch of vibration settings and you had experience with them all, considering that you owned your own copy of that particular toy back in the real world. You held it with a crushing grip while gathering courage. You wanted to do this. You wanted to show Chishiya what he was missing out on. You wanted to tease him, cry out his name while he couldn’t do more than watch you. You wanted to drive him mad and then push him away to get a taste of his own medicine. However, the though about being watched like that was making you shy. Masturbating wasn’t new to you but it was still very private and not something you’d just share with anyone.

——

Chishiya sensed your hesitation and decided to try and ease your nerves. He moved from the edge of the bed and sat down next to you, legs crossed in front of him with one of his knees touching one of yours. He started by caressing your thigh, his hand soft and warm, leaving a burning trace after it when he moved it over you, from your knee and up to your hip. He squeezed the soft skin of your waist and then left a feather light scrape of with his fingernails over your stomach. He traced the goosebumps he created, using just the tips of his fingers to create even more of them. Then he moved down to the lace trim of your panties. He slipped his thumb right under it and ran it from one side of your hip to the other, never inching closer to where you wanted him but never going further away either. When he reached your other hip he removed his hand and shifted so that he could hover over you and placed a soft kiss right below your belly button. He kept kissing you, all over your stomach, chest and right under the curve of your breasts. Your body, and mind, relaxed under his warm lips and the ends of his hair that were tickling your skin whenever he moved. You ran your fingers through the soft strands, a gentle and caring touch that always took Chishiyas breath away. He was used to being treated roughly, his whole life had been pushing away feelings until he became numb. Sex was just sex, touching was just touching. There had never been anything more to it. But whenever you did something so small, so gentle, he couldn’t help but to let himself enjoy it and feel safe for a second. He wasn’t much for intimacy but you were helping him to open up to it bit by bit, even if he tried his hardest not to.

Chishiya left one final kiss on your sternum and sat back up again, watching your body move after him while he did so.

You were beautiful like this, completely submissive to his touch and ready to be molded into whatever he wanted. He was in awe over how trusting you were when it came to this. You were strong and nobody could cross you if you didn’t want them to. You were respected by everyone. Chishiya had seen it as a challenge to break you, to see that strong facade shatter, but no matter how much he had tried you were always a step ahead of him. You saw through the manipulation and the games he tried to play. He never thought that it would be so fucking exciting to have someone not fall for his mind games. You challenged him. In the end you were the one that got in his head, not the other way around. Yet there were this side of you that only he got to see. Vulnerable, intense, trusting. You gave yourself to him, not just with the physical part of the sex but the mental part of it. That was why he kept coming back. And now you were going to surrender again, and he was so turned on by it that it was almost painful.

”Chishiya…” Your whisper snapped him out of his thoughts and he met your eyes with his. Moving his eyes to your center he swiftly pulled your panties down your legs, making sure to drag his nails along your thighs as he did. Before the panties even hit the floor, he spread your legs, got inbetween them, leaned in, and buried his tounge between your folds. The mewl you let out went straight to his cock, making it strain against his swimtrunks even more than it already did. He tasted you like he was starving. Long licks followed by circles around you clit, just to go back down and tease your entrance and then do it all over again. You were so warm and wet against his mouth and the way that you rolled your hips against him while frantically grabbing his hair just fueled him on. He kept going, making you fall closer and closer to the edge that you were searching for. Every gasp and moan was like music in his ears, and he was the one playing you like an instrument.

He didn’t stop until he remembered why he did this to begin with - to get you to finish this yourself.

With a smirk he sat back up, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand while watching your heavy breathing and body shaking under him.

”I dare you to show me what you look like when you think of me doing that to you”

——

Fuck it, you thought as he watched you with that intense, confident stare that told you that he knew that you would take up on his dare, he was just waiting to see how long it was going to take. You put your foot on his stomach, which was unfortunately still covered by the hoodie, and pushed at him. He got the hint and moved back to the edge of the bed again, still sitting with his legs crossed and facing you. The smirk on his face grew bigger with every second and you couldn’t wait to get it off of him.

You sighed, moved around a bit so you laid comfortably with your head on your pillows and your knees bent. He had a perfect view of you and you kept reminding yourself not to be embarrased and instead give him more than he could ever dream of. You were going to blow his mind.

You started by slowly dragging the tips of your fingers over your stomach, moving your body with them just to show off, and by there way he looked at you it was working. His smirk was gone and his dark eyes were intense, and moving between your hand and between your legs like he couldn’t decide what he wanted to watch more. When you got to your mound you let them linger there, just for a bit, just to make him impatient enough to want to move your fingers by himself.

”I’ll do this on one condition” you said breathlessly as you kept inching your fingers further down, still not touching where he wanted you to.

”And that is?” You could tell that he was struggling to keep his composure and it gave your confidence another boost.

”You can’t touch yourself unless I tell you so” you continued. He put his hands in his pockets as a gesture.

”Good boy” you whispered. You weren’t sure if it was your praise, your fingers finally moving to your clit or a combination of the two that made Chishiya stop breathing for a second, but it didn’t matter. You fluttered your eyes closed, started moving one of your fingers in a circle around your clit and let out a needy moan. Your other hand was still gripping the toy but you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of seeing that part yet.

”I always start with my fingers” you informed him. This was going to be fun. ”I keep wishing it was your fingers though. They feel so good against me.” Chishiya swallowed hard.

”I want to get myself so wet that the toy slides right in. Just like your cock does.” you hummed, moving your fingers down to your entrance. ”Like this.” You slid two fingers into yourself while moaning quietly. You started to slowly thrust them in and out while pressing them upwards. ”I can never reach properly, your fingers feel so much better. They’re so long. So good.” you continued. When you opened your eyes you knew that your tactics were working. Chishiya was breathing faster, his chest rising and falling in a hurry. His hands were still in his pockets but you could see how hard he was holding his fists.

You removed your fingers and held them up so that both you and him could watch the wetness caught inbetween them as you inspected them.

”You always get me so turned on, Chishiya” you murmured while you were drying your fingers by dragging them along your inner thigh. His breath hitched at the sound of his name as he followed the wet stripe your fingers left on your soft skin. ”I have a toy in the real world, one just like this one” you continued while holding the dildo up to show him. His eyes sparkled with curiosity. ”It helps a lot when there’s no one there to fuck me”. You put it between your legs and ran it along your folds, getting it nice and wet. Chishiyas eyes followed it like a dog follows a treat.

”I wish it was warm, like you are” you purred, eyes on his. ”But putting it in, just like this,” you slowly inserted the dildo, closing your eyes and gasping dramatically, until you bottomed out. ”…always feel so good”.

——

Chishiya licked his lips, almost carnivorously. What he wanted was caught between wanting to watch you fuck yourself and wanting to fuck you himself. He went with the first option, only because he knew that he probably wouldn’t get another chance to see you do it, and he wasn’t going to miss out on this opportunity. But, damn, it was hard. He wanted to throw that toy out the window and fuck you until you couldn’t move. He wanted you to beg for him to take over and show you that he could do it so much better than you could yourself. His cock was aching and his fingers were going numb from how hard he was clenching his fists but he didn’t move a muscle, doing everything in his power to not disturb you.

He kept watching you as you slowly started to thrust the pink toy in and out of yourself. It was glistening, slick from your insides and Chishiya wanted it to be him so badly. Every time it bottomed out you gasped and moaned, the volume picking up with the speed of your movements.

”It’s never enough, ahhh, with just this” you gasped as you reached in with your other hand. ”I always need something more.” You started to circle your clit with your index finger in the same pace as you moved the dildo, increasing the amount of pleasure you were building up.

”I can never come with just the toy, I need this part too.” You punctuated your statement by putting more pressure on your clit and arching your back a little to the feeling it created. ”You’re the only one that has made me come without touching me here. Fuck, you feel so good inside me, Chishiya.”

A quiet groan left Chishiyas mouth before he could stop it. He knew that you were talking like that just to tease him, but it worked. He watched attentively at the way you were moving the toy, the depth, the speed, the power behind the movements. He noticed how you seemed to like it, small, deep and fast moving thrusts, almost as if you were grinding against it. The finger on your clit moved in circles, sometimes up and down just to get some change in sensation. He saw the way your thighs were trembling as you dug your heels further into the bed to get a better angle. Your eyes were closed and mouth open, gasping and softly moaning his name. Then you turned on the vibrations.

You started at the lowest setting, getting used to the intensity of the vibrations inside you. The small buzzing sound were filling up the silence inbetween the sounds of pleasure coming from your mouth.

”I always start on the lowest setting.” You explained between gasps. ”I can feel everything. Like you can when I moan around your cock.”

Chishiya almost choked on an inhale. A quick memory of your mouth around him flashed before his eyes and that memory went straight down to his cock, still aching and neglected. You had been so good, on your knees with your lips wrapped around him. He practically had to pull you off him. Good times.

You definitely noticed how flustered that made him and Chishiya didn’t even bother trying to hide it. His mind was trying to come up with every excuse to get some friction too. Even grinding into the matress seemed like a great idea. He couldn’t stop staring at the toy that was fucking you deeply, and imagining that it was him. He imagined you clenching around him, pulling him in deeper, grinding your hips on him the same way you were grinding against your hand right now. The desire he felt was overwhelming, his whole body hot and tense and craving release.

”I’m close” you panted as you sped up your movements. ”I wish I could come around you.”

He wanted that too, to feel how wet and tight you would be around him right before you came. His cock twitched again, precum leaking from the tip and staining his boxers. He didn’t even care about the mess, he just wanted to…

”Fuck, I want you to come inside me as I come around your cock.”

That was when Chishiya reached his limit. He couldn’t stand just watching anymore, he needed to be a part of it all. He used the small amount of willpower that he had left and instead of taking his shorts off, he leaned in and put his hand on the toy. Your eyes flew open in suprise, but you didn’t tell him to move away. Instead you guided him, let him get a feel of how you liked the dildo being moved, and then let him take over.

Chishiya used his other hand to push away yours and take over moving circles around your clit, soft but hurried movements, matching the speed of the thrusting.

He could feel how the toy moved inside you, how you became tighter and tighter around it the closer you got to your release. He watched the way your throat moved when you swallowed, the way your back arched, your mouth as you kept whispering ”yes, yes, yes” over and over again. Your legs starting to shake, your fingers gripping the sheets and your eyes fluttering closed.

Then he pulled the dildo out and stopped touching you all together. You let out what was almost a screech, and looked at him in disbelief.

”Why did you stop!?” you groaned, clenching your legs together. You had been a second away from your orgasm and he tore it away just as quick. ”I was going to come!”

”I know.” Chishiya answered, eyes dark and full of desire as he looked down on you. Your expression was lovely. Annoyed and flustered. Almost angry that he took away your fun. Well, now it was his time to have fun. ”Don’t worry, I’ll let you come. I’m just going to try something first.”

He spread your legs open once more and positioned himself between them before carefully inserting the toy again. He started with long, deep strokes, going all the way in and all the way back out until only the bent tip was still inside you. His eyes were laser focused on how your body took it in, and how it almost didn’t want to let it go.

”Chishiya, please…” You were trembling under his touch, grinding against him, trying to get him to do more. He looked back at your face and studied it while he kept moving his hand. You were panting, eyes half open and cheeks flushed red. And even though you were begging him, pleading for release, you still had that confidence in your eyes that made him so intrigued by you. You conciously surrendered yourself to him, but you could take back the power in a second. It was thrilling.

With his patience running low he decided to give you what you wanted and started to move the toy deep, hard and fast. You immediately let out a moan, almost as a ’thank you’.

”Touch yourself” he quietly ordered and you followed his words right away, moving your hand between your legs to brush your fingers over yourself. It didn’t even take a minute for you to be close again. Chishiya could see all the signs. Legs shaking, moans getting louder, desperate pleas falling out of your mouth. And just as he felt you clenching harder around the toy, when your whole body tensed and you were right on the edge, he pulled it out again.

The strangled cry you let out fed Chishiyas hunger for more, and when he swatted your hand away from yourself and was met with utter desperation on your face, he put the dildo back in. This time he didn’t wait, he did just as you liked right off the bat. You were close straight away, breathing like you couldn’t get enough air no matter how much you tried, legs kicking around inbetween the rolls of your hips.

”Fuck… please let me come.” You pleaded as you kept getting closer. Chishiya had other ideas.

”But you look like you’re enjoying yourself so much already..” he answered, eyes still glued on your face. He studied the way you bit your lip right after you moaned louder than usual, the way your eyebrows scrunched together when he started touching your clit again and the anger in your eyes when he pulled out the toy for the third time. And then the satisfaction when he threw the toy to the side and pushed himself in instead.

Chishiya didn’t waste any time. He drove right into you and fucked you the same way that he had with the dildo. He was bent over you, caged in by your arms clawing the hoodie off his back, and your legs crossed around his waist. You felt incredible. So tight, so wet, so fucking good that he could barely stand it. He bent his neck down, placing his lips right above yours as he kept rocking into you with all the power he could find within himself.

”Come for me” he whispered, feeling how your whole body shivered at his words. He wouldn’t last long either. Not when you were clinging to him like this, blurry eyes filled with desire and need staring back into his. ”I wanna feel you come around me. Come on my cock and I’ll come inside you.” Your eyes flew open and then he felt you tighten around his cock so hard that it felt like he almost lost bloodflow. Then you broke.

With an inhale so deep that it sounded like you were drowning, followed by a broken sob, you came. Your whole body spasmed, back arching so much it looked painful, and your head bent backwards into the pillows as you cried out, orgasm taking all of you with it. Somewhere in the middle you managed to kick Chishiya out of you so that you could squirm away from him and curl up on your side to get away from overstimulation while your body kept trembling. He watched as you clenched your legs together, your hands still gripping the sheets around you.

Chishiya was almost in shock over how absolutely amazing you looked. Your skin was glistening with sweat and your muscles danced under it with every pulse of what was left of your orgasm. You looked so satisfied, so fucked out, so wrecked. He sat back on his heels and just looked at you. The fact that he just blue balled himself was probably karma for the edging he’d just done to you. It was worth it.

”Shit” you hissed from the pillow you were currently sticking your face in.

”Feel good?” He asked, proud of himself for being the cause of it. He tapped a finger on your foot to get your attention.

”Mhmm…” you muttered back while turning your head up towards him.

————

Your whole body ached when you looked at Chishiya sitting next to you. Your legs felt like jelly, your stomach like you had the worst ab workout ever and your arms like they lost all function. How the hell had he made you come that hard? You thought you’d loose conciousness for a moment right before the orgasm hit. Not to mention what he said. It almost killed you on the spot. Sent you straight to heaven. Cause of death: Chishiya telling you to come on his cock. Fuck, he knew exactly what he was doing and it had worked wonders.

You felt Chishiya trailing the tips of his fingers along the curve of your hips, down to your thigh and then placed his hand over your knee. The warmth of his hand spread wherever he was caressing you, soothing your aching muscles with just a touch. He looked so proud of himself. You guess he earned it, so you let him have it without complaining this time. Then you looked down and realized that he was still rock hard, so hard it looked painful.

You gathered some strenght and rolled over so that you laid on your back again, then took a hold of his hand.

”Come here” you said as you spread your legs and pulled him back over you. His brows arched in suprise.

”You didn’t get to come…” you murmured as you raked your fingers down his chest and abdomen, feeling his breath hitch as you did. You continued downwards until your fingers met his cock, warm and wet under your touch. When you closed your hand around him he let out a shuddering breath and leaned his head into the crook of your neck.

You started to move your hand over him, up and back down again, slow and carefully. Your other hand was in the back of his neck, tangled in his hair, running through the soft strands. You could tell that he was trying to hide that he liked it but you always saw a glimpse of tenderness in his eyes when you touched his hair like that, and it filled you with warmth. Like you somehow managed to break through his cold outer shell and give him some comfort.

His breath was hot on your neck, quiet groans mixed with them as they reached your ear. You kept a slow pace as you stroked him, mixing it up by letting your fingers dance over him and slide your thumb over the head, which earned you a different reaction from him each time. His hips started to move with your hand as he rocked into the soft hold you had on him.

You wanted to praise him, tell him how good he had made you feel, but you had a feeling that it would be too much for him so you opted to show him instead. You wished that you had the energy to get on top of him and ride him nice and slow, to thank him for making you feel so good. Instead, you trailed kisses over his shoulder and up over his neck. You moved the hand you had in his hair, down his back and along his sides, lightly stroking in time with you other hand.

He cursed as he came, spilling hot and wet over your stomach. You jerked him through it, getting him all over you as you kept moving your hand, drawing out every ounce of pleasure in him. When his cock had stopped twitching you gave him a few more soft strokes before letting him go.

After a few breaths to steady himself he sat back up. Both of you looked down on your stomach and chest, seeing white liquid sprayed all across it. For some reason you really liked the view. He never came on you because he really didn’t like to leave a mess, no matter how many times you told him that it wasn’t gross to you.

Without thinking you moved a hand down and let one finger brush over one of the traces he had left, still warm and wet against your skin.

”Why would you do that?” Chishiya looked down on you with furrowed brows before he started to look around the room, probably looking for something to clean you up with.

”Why not?” You pointed at your bedside table drawer and he crawled right over to pick up some tissues that you had laying in there.

”You’re strange.” He leaned in over you again and started to clean you up, bit by bit until he was satisfied.

”You’re self concious. It’s nothing wierd you know.” You cocked you head to the side and continued to watch him as he threw the paper in a waste basket next to the bedside table.

With an eye roll he stood up, went over to the sofa you had on the other side of the small room and got a blanket that was thrown over a cushion. He went back to the bed and threw it over you instead.

”Thank you.” You crawled down under the blanket until only your head popped up from under it.

Chishiya sat down on the edge of the bed and put his clothes back on. His back was just as beautiful as the front of his body. He had some beauty marks sprinkled across it, smooth skin and muscles flexing under it as he moved around. Unfortunately the hoodie was back on all to soon and your ogling had to stop.

Once he was done getting dressed he spun around so that he was facing you. His hair was a bit of a mess, some strands hanging wildly out of place. His face looked tired, but in a ’I just had a great time’-tired way. The stupid smirk was back on.

”It seemed like the toys were a great idea after all.” He looked down at the discarded pink toy that was laying next to you before he looked back at you with a face full of pride. Ugh, you were going to do this again, wouldn’t you?

”I guess.” You answered, not giving him much of a reaction.

”The kick was a bit unneccesary though”.

”What kick?” Worry started to form in the pit of your stomach. You didn’t remeber kicking him. Had you hurt him?

”You kicked me off you when you came.” He said with a huff. ”You could have just told me to back off, you didn’t have to kick me in the stomach.”

The worry you had felt went away immediately when you saw his smirk turn into a grin.

”Don’t scare me like that, I thought I hurt you.” You sighed and shimmied around under the blanket to get more comfortable. You turned on your side and let out a content sigh. Your body felt like mush and you couldn’t wait to take a long nap. A shower would have to come later.

Chishiya raised an eyebrow at you before moving his way up the bed. When he got close enough he leaned down and trailed light kisses all the way up your neck, making you shiver under his touch, until he reached just below your ear. His breath was warm as it spread over your cheek and you couldn’t help but to close your eyes and relish in it. He ended it with a whisper, in that low voice that went straight to your core and lit your insides on fire every time he used it.

”Just tell me when you want to show me the next toy. We have plenty to go through.”

[kazukazuhas]

˗ˏˋ ꒰ 💌 ꒱ old friends, lloyd garmadon.┊ ˚➶ ｡˚ ☁️

˗ˏˋ ꒰ 💌 ꒱ act one ;; scene three┊ ˚➶ ｡˚ ☁️

  ୧ ⎯⎯ OBLIVIOUS

୧ ⎯⎯ WARNINGS ;; light hearted teasing ;; implied betrayal / trust issues

  ୧ ⎯⎯ NOTES ;; so, when i made the tweets weeks ago, i realized what the conflict for this story will be. also, weekend whip!! sorry if this is shit too

  ୧ ⎯⎯ PREVIOUS ┊MASTERLIST┊NEXT

  ୧ ⎯⎯ TEXT ;; 11 IMAGES ;; TEXT [CLICK FOR BETTER QUALITY]

lloyd sighed, flopped down on the soft, dark coloured blankets of his fairly well-done bed, boredly watching the sky fade into a gentle blue from a deep night colour. the stars barely twinkled in the light blue of the now brighter sun, clouds were yet to drift around. lloyd turned his head to the door to hide from the shiny gold light that managed to slip through the window, he knew he should not have opened the blinds.

he mumbled a small groan, looking to see jay half awake plopping down on his bed in a similar fashion lloyd had done so a few minutes ago. the difference was he almost nearly knocked out immediately, half from his own grogginess and half from yesterday. lloyd needed to remember to thank him for carrying him up to his room last night.

the blond reached a hand to the bed, blind searching for his phone to find something to do while procrastinating getting ready to go out with nya. patrol was always so tiring, considering sometimes they needed to move away from the city to the smallest villages further south.

but, of course they were not alone in protecting the land, so were the elemental masters they met back when they were teenagers, and barely managing to control the full extent of their elements as respective elemental masters. he smiled fondly of his friends.

he locked the phone he managed to find after finally turning to look back to see the mysterious whereabouts of his disappearing phone, the simple thing evaded his hand every time he managed to nearly grab it.

lloyd shook the hand threading through his hair making the blond strands bounce back and forth, humming softly a well loved song amongst their little group- weekend whip, a little inside joke from back years ago when he first joined the little group of younger kid ninjas by accidently busting down the door to his uncle's house while blasting the song on his headphones. as punishment, lloyd got forced into training for a while before kai figured out that this lil' chaos causer was the destined green ninja.

he smiled at the thoughts of his happier days, flipping through the notifications that puddled in since he jumped in the car. the usual tag and article showed up in the pop-up bar, nothing he found much interest in checking out.

mindlessly he opened twitter, and surprisingly all the usernames were his friends. something he'd never usually see on the daily, usually they'd flock together to make their followers confused over their inside jokes but the use of his name further confused him more.

furthermore, seeing the other elemental masters show up as well surprised him beyond his words, what exactly in the name of fsm happened?

. . . what?

  ୧ ⎯⎯ PREVIOUS ┊MASTERLIST┊NEXT

  ୧ ⎯⎯ TAGLIST ;; @spoopy-fish-writes // @spoops-inliyue ;; @decaffeinatedcloudkryptonite // @shaantiofher ;; @sunangelstears ;; @comicbookweirdo ;; @cl0udyw4ter ;; @chamille-trash ;; @candy884422 // [pm/send in an ask to join]

˗ˏˋ ꒰ 💌 ꒱ kazukazuhas copr. 2023 darling┊ ˚➶ ｡˚ ☁️

[vodika-vibes]

I hit a bumpy road in my personal relationship. Could I get a soft Boss?

Exhaustion

Summary: Boss has been on a mission for a month, but he's home now.

Pairing: Clone Commando Boss x Reader

Word Count: 810

Warnings: None

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni

A/N: I'm sorry that you're having a rough patch, I hope this helps even a little bit!

You heave out a sigh as you toss and turn in your bed.

Normally, you don’t have a problem sleeping. Even when Boss is away, but for some reason, tonight, sleep is just eluding you. Of course, Boss has been away for the better part of a month at this point, so maybe that has something to do with it.

You flip around on your bed for several minutes longer, and then you flop onto your back and release a sigh of frustration. 

This isn’t working. 

You kick your blankets to the end of the bed, and sit up. If you’re not going to sleep, you might as well get up and do something. Well, nothing too loud, so cleaning and laundry are out, but maybe you can catch up on your trash TV.

That way you’ll at least have some entertainment while your brain refuses to rest.

You swing your legs off the bed, and silently pad down the dark halls, not bothering with lights until you reach the living room. You turn the lamp on with a touch of your finger, and fold yourself onto the couch, tugging a fleece blanket over your bare legs, and you grab the remote as you flip through the channels.

At this time of night, most everything is infomercials, though you do find a station showing the latest blockbuster movies, and that’s the one you settle on. You don’t expect them to be terribly good (why would they show good movies at 2 am?) but it’s better than nothing.

About half an hour later, you hear the familiar sound of someone keying in your door code, and the sound of the door whooshing open, and then closed again. There’s no noise, or movement, for a moment, and then you hear heavy footsteps walking down the hall.

Boss stops in the doorway leading into the living room, he’s still dressed in his armor, though he has at least taken his helmet off, and he looks surprised to see you awake. Of course, you’re just as surprised to see him, you haven’t expected him back for another couple of weeks.

“Boss!” You say with a blinding smile as you scramble off the couch to run over to him. 

“Why are you still awake, little love?” Boss asks quietly, even as he opens his arms to accept your hug.

You fling yourself into his arms, carefully though as to not hurt yourself against his armor, and you bury your face in his neck. “I couldn’t sleep.”

“So you decided to stay awake and watch bad movies at 2:30 in the morning?” Boss asks, a hint of judgment in his voice.

You pout at him, “I missed you.”

“I missed you too, but that’s not an answer to my question.” A small smile crosses his face as he notices your fingers moving to the seals of his armor, starting to pop the seals to help him out of the armor.

“I thought maybe I would fall asleep to the movie,” You explain.

“And how’s that going?”

“Very poorly.”

“Hm,” Boss smiles at you, soft and warm, before he leans in and catches your lips in a deep kiss, “Let me get out of this, and then we can curl up in bed together.”

“You don’t need a shower?”

“I showered at base,” Boss explains as he lightly bats your hands away from him, and he removes his armor with a methodical swiftness that you would never be able to replicate. “I was gross.” He adds.

“I’m sure you weren’t.” You say loyally.

“Oh, I was.” He sets his armor on the couch, to be dealt with at a time that isn’t 2 in the morning, and he lightly sets his hand on your hips, “Alright, cyare, time for bed.”

“But I’m not tired.” You whine.

“But I am, and I want to cuddle with you.” Boss replies with a small smirk.

“Oh.” You blink at him, and then you grin and take his hand and tig him towards the bedroom, “That changes things.”

“I thought it might,” Boss agrees with a laugh as he allows you to tug him towards the bedroom. He only pulls his hand away from you for long enough to peel off his shirt, and to toss it in the laundry, and then he’s laying in bed, with you pressed up against him, your head resting on his chest.

Boss lightly strokes your head, and down your spine, glad to have you back in his arms after being away for so long. “Love you, cyare.” He murmurs, his eyes closing in exhaustion.

“Love you too,” You murmur as you press a kiss just over his heart.

Boss is warm and his heartbeat is steady in your ear, and slowly you drift off to sleep. Which was his plan from the beginning.

[ddejavvu]

Broken Pieces - Eddie Munson x Reader (Part 1)

WC: 4.4k / navi / preview / request

Summary: Eddie isn't expecting to find you, his best friend, sobbing on the steps of his trailer asking to buy weed. You have a strict no drugs policy, so he knows something's wrong. He finds out you've broken up with Steve, and he's determined to turn the situation into one that will mend both of your broken pieces.

Contents/Warnings: past relationship with steve, i totally used his past with nancy here as the plot i am so sorry queen, best friend!eddie, best friends to lovers (eventually), mild threatening, angst, mentions of drugs

feedback is greatly appreciated! comment, reblog, talk in the tags, send me a message, tell me what you think!

The last thing Eddie expects to see when he opens the door is you. Much less the tears streaking down your cheeks, the wobble of your chin, and the shoulder of your shirt falling off of your shoulder. You’ve been to his trailer before, of course, on a monthly movie night rotation between here, Nancy’s house, Robin’s garage, and Steve’s place.

Speaking of Steve, Eddie’s not quite sure why you’re not with him. After dating for seven months, you’re practically inseparable, stuck to the man’s side with something stronger than super glue.

Now you look weak, alone, and frail.

“Hi.” You croak, and the sound is so sad that Eddie actually feels his heart drop.

“Hi,” He shifts on his feet, millions of questions dancing on the tip of his tongue, “What’s’a matter, kicks?”

Eddie glances to your feet at the familiar nickname, seeing, not the infamous pair of sneakers that inspired it, but a beat-up pair of foam flip-flops. 

“I want weed.” You state, like you’re asking for a pony for your birthday. Eddie’s eyes meet the $20 in your hands that’s being shoved unceremoniously towards him, “Uh, please.”

“Come in.” He finally steps aside after a quick deliberation, glancing at Wayne who’s still snoozing on the couch. He ushers you to his room, but stands protectively in front of his stash that you’ve already locked eyes with.

“I dunno how much this’d get me,” You sniffle, the bill crinkling in your hands, “But I just need something, anything.”

When he doesn’t move, you shake the bill at him accusingly.

“Eddie,” You urge, despair clinging hard to your voice, “I’m not in the mood to mess around. Please, just give me something.”

“I..” Eddie falters, watching you, the person he’s known for years now, come closer to rock bottom than he’s ever seen you, “I don’t want to sell you drugs.”

“Fucking-” Your eyes scrunch shut, and Eddie can see terrible tears squeeze their way out as you gnaw at your bottom lip, “Eddie, listen to me. I need this. I need to not think about things for a while. Please help me.”

“I will,” He decides, inching forward from where he’s leaning against his messy dresser. He reaches for you, takes your trembling frame into his steady hands, and maneuvers you to sit on his mattress. You don’t comment on the horrendous creak of his weary bedsprings, all you can do is bury your face in your hands and cry.

Sure, he’s seen you cry before. At almost every sad movie, in fact. The five of you, Nancy, Steve, Robin, you, and himself are on a rotational movie night system, two tapes a week at whoever’s house is the least crowded. More often than not you’re crammed into his trailer or sprawled out in Steve’s living room, but regardless of where you are, you always have tissues with you. He racks his brain to think of what usually makes you cry, coming up with whenever a dog dies, or a child says something cute, or a couple splits, it brings you to tears. But this, this is different. This has you shaking, your shoulders heaving as Eddie’s sure your stomach churns. He thinks, with a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach, that maybe he was a little too on the nose about that last thing, that maybe, just maybe, you’re not with Steve anymore.

“Talk to me, kicks.” He prompts you, his hand resting on your bare shoulder. He feels the fabric of your sleeve beneath his fingers, still flopped carelessly down your upper arm, and readjusts it carefully, smoothing out the fabric before replacing his hand.

“Steve-” You start, and Eddie feels his lungs constrict, “I shouldn’t have asked.”

“Shouldn’t have asked what?” Eddie doesn’t want to push, but more concern washes over him every second that you’re sobbing beside him, and the way that you limply keel over onto his shoulder makes tears spring to his own eyes.

“It was a joke,” You insist, “But- but then he didn’t answer, and-!”

“Hey,” Eddie fears the convulsion of your frame, tugging your hands away from your face and cupping your cheeks in his hands, “Breathe. Just forget about it for a second, pay attention to me, and breathe.”

You gulp for oxygen, the resulting exhale shaking as it seeps from your throat. Your red, puffy eyes roam his face, the despair in them unmoveable, something that scares Eddie almost more than whatever happened in the first place. Fuck it if you and Steve aren’t together anymore, but you have to be okay. 

Eddie’s not quite sure how he’s managed to push away his feelings for this long. He’s only done it because Steve makes you happy, and he’s certain that your best friend up and ditching you because of some childish jealousy would do the opposite. He’s thought about it before; cutting you off. He just can’t bear the thought of you crying to Steve over it, crying at all, for that matter. But it’ll be a cold day in hell when he lets Steve Harrington comfort you over his cruelty.

Because of this, because he can’t tell you how he feels, he has to make it seem like nothing’s wrong. But it is, everything is oh-so-wrong when your head rests so easily on Steve’s shoulder, your lips brushing his ear as you whisper a sarcastic quip about the characters on screen to him. It’s wrong when you wriggle happily at his laughter, digging your face into the conjunction of his neck and shoulder to press a soft kiss there. It’s wrong when you catch Eddie’s eye afterwards, a sheepish smile sliding onto your face at his unamused gaze. You whisper a quiet, ‘sorry,’ but it’s for disrupting his movie-watching experience, not for breaking his heart.

Although, he supposes, you’re not breaking his heart anymore. You certainly had, the day you’d raced to his trailer with stars in your eyes and a flower in your hands, loudly proclaiming that Steve Harrington asked you out!

He’d felt the organ shatter when you’d grasped his hands and excitedly told him that it was the best day of your life, that you were the happiest person on the planet, that he’s everything you’ve ever wanted. Now there’s nothing left to break, no pieces of his heart big enough to crack. Now you stomp on them, now the heel of your sneaker grinds them into dust fine enough to slip down through his guts and land heavy in his stomach.

He feels guilty over it, but he won’t let that stop him: he’s happy you’ve split with Steve. He likes Steve, he really does, but only when you’re not around him. He chats the guy up at Family Video, offers him a ride when his car breaks down, and laughs with him over the younger kids. When his hand weaves around your waist, though, he’s Eddie’s mortal enemy.

He’s now at the top of Eddie’s shit list altogether, surpassing Jason and his band of cronies, and whoever invented dye for clothing that bleeds in the wash. Because the tears streaking down your face are unforgivable. They’re a sight he wants to forget immediately but knows he’ll never be able to, one that will haunt him for as long as he lives because of how defeated you look.

“You have pretty eyes,” You hum, voice still shaky. Apparently you’d been taking as much advantage of your position as Eddie had, ogling him just the same. He doesn’t think it possible, but a soft smile curves over his face, and his thumbs stroke your cheeks.

“Yeah? Y’think after all these years of knowin’ each other you’d know that by now.” He teases, no trace of negativity in his words. He has a way of teasing you like he loves you, and you don’t know how he does it, but you’re grateful for it in that moment.

All you can do is sniffle, and Eddie has half a mind to dab at the stickiness under your nose with his sleeve. You’d chide him, call him gross, but he’d lick mud off of his van tires if you asked him to. 

“Alright,” Eddie tries tentatively, smoothing away some of the wetness on your cheeks with the pads of his thumbs, “Wanna try again? What’s eatin’ ‘ya, kicks?”

The thought of whatever Steve did has tears flooding your pretty eyes once more, and Eddie wants to freeze time so he can go over and kick the guy’s ass. But he doesn’t, he keeps petting your cheeks, waiting silently for you to say something.

“It was a joke,” You repeat, your voice foggy, “I- I said something about- about loving me, and- and I said I was the only girl he loves. He didn’t, Eddie-!” You gush, face screwing up into a terribly-withheld sob, “He didn’t answer! His eyes, they dimmed, and he got all stiff, and- and I knew it was Nancy, Eddie, I knew!”

You slump forwards into his hands, a mess of sticky tears and heart-aching sobs, and Eddie can’t stop you from bumping your forehead against his. He’s not anything more than an anchor for you at that moment, and he knows it, but that doesn’t stop the shattered pieces of his heart from glowing when your nose brushes against his.

You try tucking your head into his chest but he stops you, keeping your cheeks in his hands and puckering his lips to press them into your skin. He feels your chest convulse, tries sticking more kisses to the crease between your eye and the bridge of your nose, just in case that helps. He doesn’t know for sure if it does, but you seem to curl tighter into him, so he takes it as a good sign.

He realizes right then and there that he can’t stop. It’s like his lips have a mind of their own, as if now that they’ve gotten the feeling of your skin pressed against them, he’ll die if he doesn’t keep feeling it. Each time he promises himself this is the last one, before he’s even finished the thought he’s pressing another kiss to your damp, flushed skin.

The taste of your tears doesn’t deter him, either. Kiss after kiss is rained down upon you, sliding from just beside your eye to the crevice between your nose and your cheek, then the curve of your chin. Each place he loves on is awkward, slightly invasive as his nose prods the skin just above it, but he’s not sure there’s any part of you he doesn’t want to kiss. He’d peck the back of your knee if you gave him the chance, and he decides not to evaluate how whipped he’s sure that makes him.

He’s not sure if he’s touch starved in general, or if it specifically correlates to all the time he’s spent around you without kissing you. He’ll admit he’s not exactly a casanova, and the last girl he kissed did it on a dare, but he can’t imagine wanting this badly to kiss anyone but you. He knows it would be selfish to take the next step, though, keeps those thoughts to himself as he smothers you in love.

Soon enough the tears that slide down your cheeks aren’t fresh and wet anymore. They’re tacky to the touch and Eddie’s lips help soak them up, until the skin that he’s kissing is dry, and your sniffles are subsiding. You’re slumped helplessly into his lap, though you’re not making any move to distance yourself, so he’s certain you’re not uncomfortable.

Pulling away from you feels like ripping his heart out of his chest, his newly mended heart that’s sticking itself back together with every kiss he plants on your face. He feels alive again for the first time since you broke the news of you and Steve, and he’s going to feel guilty for a long time that he’s benefitting from this.

He stares down at you, where you’re crumpled pathetically against his chest. You gaze up at him with big, watery eyes, and it takes everything in him not to kiss you some more. He wants to smooch you until you’re giggly and bright again, until the tired despair on your face shifts to bright, pure joy.

“I wish he was over her,” Your sigh sounds wistful, and Eddie hates that you have to dream of fidelity. He’d offer it to you unending, he’d devote his life to you in writing.

“Me too.” Eddie admits, and he’s truthful with it. He wants Steve and Nancy’s bond severed, he doesn’t want to have to endure an awkward silence every time their past relationship is brought up, but he doesn’t want you back with Steve either. He’s stuck in the middle of wanting something sensible and wanting something nonsensical, and he can’t decide where he wants to draw the line.

“I wish he loved me,” You seem to be breaking your record for destroying Eddie’s heart, “But- but maybe he does. I’m just not the only one, and I wish I was.”

“Yeah,” He can’t bring himself to say ‘me too,’ again, but he knows why you want that, “I know, sweetheart. It’s not your fault, though. You know that, right?”

“I know,” You nod carefully against his chest, and some of his dread lightens. He’d hate for you to blame yourself for Steve’s muddled feelings, he’s sure he’d go and knock the man’s teeth in if you were feeling like you had done something wrong,

“It’s just-” You start, and his hope dims again, “I know it’s not my fault I’m not Nancy. Or- Or that I’m not enough to make him forget about her. But I kind of wish I was, you know? It would be nice to be so good for him that he finally gets over his first love.”

“You want to be wanted,” Eddie murmurs, knowing the feeling all too well, “You want to be the most special person in someone’s life.”

“Yeah,” You suppress a sob, clutching tighter to Eddie’s shirt, “That’s it.”

“For what it’s worth,” Eddie starts, terror lacing his words. He’s not sure he’s even supposed to be saying them, because he really doesn’t want to take advantage of your misery, but he needs you to know that you are wanted, that you are special, “You’re the most special person in my life, kicks.”

He throws your nickname on the end to hopefully push away some of the romantic undertones it carries. Like he could completely negate how lovesick he is for you with a single word, with an offhanded moniker about your sneakers. Like you won’t notice he’s in love with you if he pretends he isn’t

You freeze; not a good sign. Eddie’s heart, still battered and bruised and half-stitched, hammers in his chest, and he tries to ignore the battering ram against his ribs. 

All at once, the rest of your willpower crumbles, and you bury yourself in him. Eddie thinks its the most beautiful sensation in the world, having your face in his neck, but he feels hot tears sliding over his skin, and that makes him regret enjoying it. Your chest heaves against his own as your legs wind around his waist, and he eagerly accepts your position as his new koala companion. Sobs come hard and fast from your mouth, and he’s worried for your poor lungs. At least, he muses, you hadn’t been smoking like you’d intended to, or else he’d be more worried for them. 

“Sweetheart,” He croons sympathetically, a bittersweet feeling washing over him as you nuzzle further into him. He’s glad you like the nickname, but he’s not glad that you seem to need it. You’re clinging to his love because you’d run away from Steve’s, and he’s going to put the man six feet under for not giving it all to you.

“It’s alright,” Is all he can murmur, and while he can believe it, he’s sure you can’t, “I promise everything’s gonna be okay. We can stay here for as long as you need,” He vows, his hands smoothing out the wrinkles in your shirt, which, with disdain he notices is actually Steve’s, “I promise he can’t get to you here.”

He has visions of fighting the Harrington boy off with a broom if he tries to come knocking, but he’s sure it would be more like angrily hanging up the phone on him instead. Nevertheless, he’ll protect you however he can.

“I’m sorry for hiding here.” You sluggishly apologize, muffled into the tear-stained skin of Eddie’s neck, “I know it’s not fair to you.”

“Not fair,” He scoffs, leaning down to indulge himself and press a kiss to the crown of your head, “Bullshit, baby. You’ve been comin’ here since we were seven. Wayne has your handprint right next to mine on that stepping stone we made him, ‘member?”

You recall the messy gray stepping stone you’d put together for Wayne before father’s day, your handprint running messily into Eddie’s in the sloppy concrete mixture. He’d slapped his down right on top of yours, and Wayne jokes about how if anyone uncovers that years from now, they’re gonna think Eddie didn’t have a thumb. 

“Yeah,” You croak, and you grab the same hand he’d covered your own with in the imprint, smoothing your fingers over the thumb that he does, in fact, have, “I guess.”

“Hell, Wayne’ll beat up Harrington if you want him to,” Eddie pokes your side, and he’s glad for the giggle it elicits, “We’ll tag team him, make him pay.”

“Don’t do that,” You let out a breathy laugh, sitting up and pulling yourself out of Eddie’s chest, “it’s not his fault he still loves her. I just- I wish he hadn’t roped me into it too.”

“Yeah.” Eddie nods, leaning back from where he was curled protectively around you, “I know.”

“Eddie,” You glace down at your torso, your brows scrunching, “Can I borrow a shirt? I don’t.. I don’t wanna wear Steve’s anymore.”

“‘Course you can,” Eddie scrambles for his dresser, grabbing the first clean shirt that he sees, an old tee he’d scrawled ‘corroded coffin’ over, “See if that fits okay.”

“Thanks.” You stand, not bothering to make your way to the bathroom. All you do is turn to face the wall, slipping Steve’s shirt off over your head and tossing it to the floor.

Eddie’s stomach lurches. You obviously feel comfortable enough around him to undress, and he doesn’t exactly want to fuck that up by ogling you. But the glance at your exposed back that he sees before he can process the situation and turn away stuns him into silence. He can’t even bring himself to tease you, he just sits there staring at Steve’s shirt on his floor.

He wants to burn it.

He feels the bed dip, and snaps his eyes back to you. You’re freshly clad in his shirt, a sight that he tries not to jump for joy over, and you offer him a kind smile.

“You can look now,” You assure him, seeing the tinge of pink on his cheeks, “Thanks again for the shirt, Eddie.”

‘Anytime,” He smiles, and he means it. Your fingers fiddle with the corner of his pillow, and he stares at his bedside clock. 1:34 PM is far too late, and he understands your drowsiness.

“Why don’t you lay down,” He suggest gently, patting the bed, “And I’ll make sure Steve doesn’t bother you?”

“It’s okay,” You stretch out over the mattress, happy to be given an invitation to, “You can just sleep too, Eddie.”

“Are- are you sure? What if he comes over?” Eddie’s mind whirls with a thousand different horror stories, all of them ending with you back in Steve’s arms.

“He won’t,” You yawn, tucking your arms close to your chest, “He didn’t run after me when I left, why would he now?”

It’s with a terrible sinking feeling that he listens to you, staying perched on the edge of the bed while you get comfortable. You look imploringly up at him, “Aren’t you gonna sleep?”

“Here?” Eddie glances down at his bed, noting that there’s plenty of room for him.

“Yeah.” You nod sleepily, your exhaustion both from the hour and your meltdown, “‘S fine, Eddie, it’s not like Steve’s gonna yell at you for it.”

He snorts before he can stop himself, and instantly feels guilty. It’s what you wanted, though, if your wry smile has anything to say, and he carefully lays down across from you.

“Kicks?” He flicks the light off beside him, settling his hands under his face, “I’m sorry he let you go.”

Really, he’s not. He’s sorry you’re sad about it, he’s sorry you cried for so long, and he’s sorry that Steve almost turned you into a druggie, but he’s not sorry you split. He keeps his feelings to himself, though, like he always does, and waits for you to answer.

“Yeah,” You hum, “Me too. Probably for the best, though. I’m.. I’m gonna miss him a lot.”

“Yeah.” Eddie murmurs, watching through the faint moonlight peeking into the room from behind his blinds, “I’m here if you need me.”

“I do need you,” Eddie thinks that’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever heard come out of your mouth, and he curses himself for not having a recorder on him. He yearns to respond movie-style, record your sweet voice and play it over and over again to himself. But all he can do is smile in the darkness, waiting as you drift off to sleep.

--

He waits an hour. A full hour of your light, huffy breath just barely hitting his cheek, and your limbs shuffling restlessly on the bed. Finally, he thinks, you’re asleep, and he rises from his mattress carefully. He pads across his bedroom carpet and pulls open the door. Miraculously, it doesn’t creak. All it does is glide across the floor, and the knob doesn’t even squeak when he shuts it again.

He’s past you, but now he needs to get past Wayne. The man’s sleeping on the couch, as he always does, and Eddie tries not to think about how much more comfortable his uncle would be if he slept in Eddie’s room, on a real bed. He tiptoes to the phone, dials the number he knows from carpool emergencies and movie night planning, and steps outside with it, his feet meeting the cold concrete of the front steps.

The cord stretches fine out to the porch, and Eddie’s thankful that he doesn’t have to berate Steve with his uncle in the room. He speaks freely in the chilly night air, goosebumps raising on his skin.

Steve picks up after only one ring, and Eddie’s surprised he’s able to shut the door in time to start talking.

“Y/N?” Steve’s voice crackles over the line, “Is that you?”

“No.” Eddie drawls, venom in his voice.

“Eddie,” Steve sounds relieved to hear Eddie, and the boy’s stomach knots at that realization, “She’s with you? I’m on my way, dude, just keep her there.”

“What?” Eddie frowns, his voice echoing in the woodsy chasm his trailer rests in, “No! You’re not seeing her.”

“Eddie,” Steve groans, “Come on, don’t be a dick. I’m trying to apologize, I’m trying to make this right!”

"Listen, man." Eddie's teeth are gritted so hard he's surprised he hasn't cracked any of them, "You need to stay away from her, okay? She's hurt real bad, and it's your fault. I don't care why you didn't answer, she's my best friend and she needed an answer. You- god, Harrington, you never deserved her in the first place. Got it?"

"Eddie," Steve scoffs, his voice pleading and thick with tears, "Come on, man. I know you like her. But it's not my fault you didn't tell her. Yes, it's my fault that she's crying. But I- I wanna make it up to her! Just let me see her, dude."

"No." Eddie insists, hand curled so tightly around the phone that it starts to creak under his fingers, nothing but white hot rage flowing through his lanky body, "She's never gonna forgive you. You need to get your shit together, Harrington. Preferably before you destroy another poor girl."

“I have my shit together!” Steve insists, and Eddie can picture him ruffling his hair angrily, “Or at least, I would, if you weren’t so hellbent on intruding!”

“Intruding? She came to my place.” Eddie corrects him, “She wanted to see me.”

“Dude, seriously.” Steve’s bargaining skills are less sharp than he needs them to be, “Don’t you want her to be happy? I make her happy, Eddie, you know I do. And I want to, but I can’t unless I apologize!”

“For what?”

“What?”

“Apologize for what, Harrington?” Eddie spits, “Apologize for not answering her? Or apologize for being in love with someone else?”

“I’m not..” Steve falters, and it’s the only confirmation Eddie needs, “I’m not in love with someone else.”

“Yes you are,” Eddie insists, “Listen: I don’t like you right now. But you’d feel so much better if you really worked on moving on. Okay? I wish I wasn’t giving you friendly advice, because Y/N just cried hard enough to flood my bedroom, but really, for your own good, sort out your feelings.”

“Eddie..” Steve sighs, but Eddie’s already got a hand on the door to the trailer again.

“No, Steve. Get your shit together. Leave her alone.”

Eddie races for the receiver, feet thumping against the floor. He hangs the phone up before Steve can reply, and he’s surprised the clacking doesn’t wake Wayne. But the man’s a heavy sleeper, and so are you, Eddie notes, when he comes back to his room and sees you still snoozing.

The bed dips with his weight, and you unconsciously respond to his body heat. Sluggishly, sleepily, you roll over, curling an arm around Eddie’s chest and burrowing your face in his shoulder.

There’s no mistaking what you say.

“Steve,” You hum groggily, your slumbering brain too far gone to remember any of your surroundings.

Eddie bites his lip to stop a whimper from escaping his throat. Tears sting hot and heavy at his eyes, and he curses whatever shitty toga-clad cherub had used him as target practice and made him fall for you. He tries to stay still, he tries ignoring your inviting snuggle, but he’s not strong enough, and he turns his head to press his cheek to your temple.

He’ll be your Steve if you don’t want Eddie.

feedback is greatly appreciated! comment, reblog, talk in the tags, send me a message, tell me what you think!

[theloveinc]

(kinda-divorced!kiri tag here!)

(warning: you’re in a dress + angst)

-

It’s not even a date that you’re getting gussied up for, yet almost-divorced!Kirishima finds himself more nervous than ever.

Sat on the corner of the bed you used to share, watching you hop around the room in between attempts at fixing your shirt, your hair, whatever it is that even needs fixing in the first place, he can’t tell. Your son, playing on the little gaming console he got him at the promise of no longer being ignored at the dinner table, across the room on the big blue armchair, looking up every few minutes as if chaperone to the hijinks of his falling apart family. 

You look better than he’s ever seen you, though Kiri knows that’s not really true, just some trick of whatever part of his mind wants to torture him for all the times he took you for granted looking like this before. Sure, he didn’t shy away from laying on the compliments that first hero gala he took you to all those years ago, but he remembers your last anniversary (14 months and 3 days ago, you skipped what was supposed to be your most recent) and how he left dinner at the agency’s request before he could say something about… anything.

Kiri is pretty confident you remember. Still, he tries not to let the memory get him down. He clears his throat.

“You look nice.” 

You barely spare half a glance (half a smile, really) at him from where you stand in front of the big mirror above your dresser.

“Thanks.”

“And you said...” he pauses, as if to wait for an automatic correction, give you the chance to read his mind like you always sort of have… but you don’t say anything, don’t even pause the fluffing of your hair, take the pins out of your mouth to acknowledge his presence. “You said you’re going to a club?”

“A birthday party. At a club.” 

Technically, he knew that already, though his stomach still lurches and flip flops at the thought of you at some dingy bar, alone, with no one to protect you. Even worse, almost, with other women, all of your friends, whispering that it’s okay to let loose, to have a drink, maybe even find someone new to share your slice of birthday cake with rather than taking it home.

“For who?”

You still don’t look at him. 

“A mom friend. You don’t know her.”

That’s right. He stopped making time for all the parent events you used to sign up for a long time ago. They’re probably not even events anymore, just tea while the kids all play screaming in yard. It was never your yard.

He has yet to forgive himself.

“At a club?” 

From out of the corner of his eye, he can’t help but notice the way son rolls his. 

“Yes, Eijirou.”

Somehow, his first name hurts even worse, and he tries not to say anything. Not to let out a gush of all the bottled up tears within him, or even worse, a stream of “how could you-s” and “don’t talk to any guys, okay? Alright? Okay?” 

He knows he doesn’t have the right to say any such things to you anymore. That it’s you who’s hurting, who has the right to do what you want… not that you would do anything crazy (in fact, he knows you wouldn’t, too focused on taking care of yourself, your son, all the things he ruined, by himself, without help), but you deserve to have fun when you can. You deserve to feel beautiful and loved and wanted, by men who actually take the time to tell you that you’re pretty, and friends who actually tell you they want you around. 

He feels his heart collapsing in on itself, the damage already done and yet still causing collateral on the rest of him... and yet, he still can’t bring himself to let go. 

“Do you... need any help?”

Kiri wants to do what he can, prove he’s still there for you the way you always were for him. Even if all that means is tying the sash around your little cocktail dress, helping to wedge your feet into the pointed heels you dug up from the bottom of the closet, smoothing oil into the tips of your hair. 

But his son replies instead, nearly interrupting as he immediately hops off his seat and haphazardly throws his expensive gaming device back in his place. “I can do it, dad.” 

He reaches you before he can even (get his head out of his ass) blink, instead forced to watch as you easily turn, accept, and smile at, the warmth of your son’s hands on the back of your neck as he doesn’t even have to reach for the clasp. Kiri wonders when he got so tall, when his dark hair grew so long, when he stopped looking so much like you and started looking tons more like him.

But he nods. Mindlessly, in acceptance, at least to look a little less pathetic and heartbroken over the fact that your son is taking his place (and you’re letting him).

[vampsickle]

i missed you. ☆ ( anime ) dante

☆ tags - literally 0 plot, it’s semi - soft?, pretend this is like christmas themed lol. afab!reader but i don’t use fem pronouns, dante is MESSY. cunnilingus, oral.

☆ wc - 961

☆ a/n - i’m so SLOW atm im sorry yall! this was fun 2 write, but tbh i don’t rly like it lol😭 ik i can do better so next time it’ll be better i promise!

☆ synopsis - the holidays are stressful, but now that you’re back home with Dante, he shows you just how much he missed you.

It’d been so stressful these past few weeks, you’d been visiting family, and using up your entire paycheck to buy gifts. At that time you hadn’t even spoken to Dante, who was busy with other things.. You truly did miss him. Of course, seeing family was nice, but all you wanted was for him to hold you again. In just a day, you’d get to go back, and run into his warm embrace.

Later into the evening, you’ve said your goodbyes, and hurried back to Devil May Cry. You nearly slipped on snow and ice while rushing to the door, quickly composing yourself, and slowly pushing it open. It was warm. Really warm. But your stomach is doing flips when your eyes meet that familiar figure. Dante. He’s leaning back on that ancient chair of his, not wearing his usual crimson coat, instead he’s only in that black turtleneck that hugs his chest quite nicely. 

His silky white hair has fallen over his closed eyes, chest slowly rising and falling, legs firmly planted on his desk. You smile to yourself, quietly shutting the door, and approaching him. But Dante’s been awake this whole time, of course. Just waiting for you to get closer. You’re leaning over him, he looks so peaceful that you’d feel bad ‘waking’ him up. His eyes flutter open, white eyelashes look like snowflakes, and he slowly caresses your cheek with a gloved hand.

“Sorry— Did I.. Wake you up?”

“No. I’ve been awake the whole time, actually.”

He says it so casually that it makes you blink a few times, before snorting softly and pushing yourself away from him. But Dante’s already behind you, wrapping his large arms around you, sighing into the back of your head. Your body instinctively relaxes in his touch, exhaling quietly, as Dante inhales your scent. 

“I missed you.”

“I missed you, too.”

“Really? How much did you miss me?”

Dante pulls back, very slowly, that it makes you shiver. You’ve noticed that over these past few years he’s grown a bit more serious, nothing like his fun-loving, jokester self he was. But you didn’t mind. Truly, he’s still finding himself— his place in the world. Your thoughts are interrupted as Dante flops down onto the couch, swinging his legs up onto it, making himself comfy. 

“Come sit on my face and I’ll show you how much I missed you.”

He’s grinning, meeting your eyes with an intense gaze, the tent in his pants very apparent. You blush, shying away from his stare, but you’re already walking towards him. With all the stress and pressure you went through, you had barely thought about sex or your own pleasure, just on how to make the others around you happy. But when you’re with Dante, you feel happy, he makes you feel so good— not just physically, of course. The both of you complete each other. He could never say that- he doesn’t know how to. He shows you through his actions, and he always means it.

You shimmy out of your jeans, quickly tugging your shirt over your head, giving Dante something to watch. And he is watching. So intently, his nails digging into the couch cushion so hard that it may rip. God— This is what he had been waiting for. Weeks without you felt like an eternity to him.

“Hurry,” Dante mutters, his eyebrow twitching, lips quivering with need. You understand, quietly humming, as you step out of your underwear. You hear the way his breath shakes.

Now you’re moving on top of him, feeling suddenly shy, hovering over his face. He tuts, gripping your thighs, squeezing the fat of them, and pulling you down onto his face. He wants you to suffocate him. Dying with his face between your legs, well, that wouldn’t be so bad.

You try to adjust yourself but his bruising grip makes that difficult, and a soft yelp escapes you when that familiar muscle rubs against your folds. He’s so eager, lapping away at your heat, drinking your juices. Dante moans against you, the vibrations making you shudder, and you grip his snow white hair, pulling hard. He grunts at the feeling, his thighs squeezing together, attempting to soothe his erection. 

He’s always been so messy, and that’s fine— you want him to make a mess of you. Even when drool and your arousal coat his chin, Dante doesn’t care. His tongue plunges inside of you, as far in as it can go, as he continues to suck and lick.

“Dante—! Fuck! I’m-“

He tries to say something in response but his words come out muffled, and your thighs are squeezing around his head, meanwhile his head is spinning. It’s all you, you, you. Even when he’s the one eating you out, he’s so close to cumming as well, your taste overwhelming him. Jerking off while thinking of you isn’t enough. It never is. Toys aren’t enough. Nothing is. 

You’re crying out his name, and he won’t let up, not until you’re satisfied. That feeling of euphoria washes over you and you’re practically sobbing now, cumming all over his face. Dante laps up all of your cum, cleaning you with his tongue, and you whimper weakly in response to his actions.

Finally, once you’ve tried to push him away enough times, he lets you go. Your legs feel like jelly, but you’re able to get off of him, and he gasps quietly. 

“That good enough for you?”

Even though your legs are trembling so bad you feel like a new born calf, you still find the strength to rub his clothed erection, which makes Dante groan and mutter a string of curses under his breath.

“Definitely.. Now can I show you how much I missed you?”