#sorry for long tags I'm just so shook

[scatterghosts]

Deuteronomy 2:10 by The Mountain Goats // Deep in Canyon by BJ Yang

[whimsyvixen]

𝔼𝕞𝕡𝕥𝕪 𝔹𝕝𝕚𝕤𝕤

Silent Hill Fic Rating: 18+ Pairing: Pyramid Head x Female Reader Synopsis/Excerpt: His helmet had jerked your way, the sudden movement making your heart drop to your stomach. You couldn't look away from him, mouth agape at the towering menace. You didn't understand how, but you felt him peruse your form--nausea hitting you when he let out a guttural growl and headed straight for you. WARNINGS/TAGS: Dark fic, rape/noncon elements, extremely dubious consent, explicit content, blood play, heavy NSFW, teratophilia(?), monster/human, choking, dacryphilia, rough sex, unprotected sex, forced orgasm, tummy bulge, creampie, very obvious size difference. ⚠️ READ THE TAGS: Please be aware this work contains content that the reader may feel uncomfortable with or otherwise triggered by. DO NOT READ if bothered by tags (no minors). ⚠️

A/N: I had to make sure to finish this one before Halloween! Sorry for the long wait, you guys! I got no tricks with me so I'm just going to hand over this little treat right here ! 🍬

You hid beneath a large table, hands over your mouth to control your breathing as the floor shook. You could feel your heart beating intensely, the organ wanting to burst out of your chest as pure terror seized you when the footsteps paused near your hiding spot.

He was right in front of you. The only being you encountered in the desolate town of Silent Hill.

The monster. 

~

He had emerged out of an alley, swarmed by bugs as he trudged his way through, his massive frame freezing you in place. His head was encumbered by a steel frame, pyramid in its shape and heavy in appearance if his tortured groans were anything to go by. His scarred torso and bulging arms were bare, showcasing the immense power he held as he dragged a massive knife behind him.

You couldn't contain your gasp when you caught sight of it.

His helmet had jerked your way, the sudden movement making your heart drop to your stomach. You couldn't look away from him, mouth agape at the towering menace. You didn't understand how, but you felt him peruse your form--nausea hitting you when he let out a guttural growl and headed straight for you.

Fuck!

You bolted then, nearly tripping over your own feet in your desperation to get away from him. With the amount of blood soaking him and those unnerving growls, you weren't willing to take a chance and find out what he would do to you. Too afraid to look back, you continued running in the abandoned town, losing sight of where you were as you tried to find somewhere to hide. 

What buildings you could make out were old and rundown, their windows smashed and doors creaking ominously. They would not provide you with the cover you needed. You could faintly hear him behind you, breaking into a cold sweat when you turned your head and couldn't spot him in the dense fog. 

When you caught sight of the abandoned school, your lungs felt like bursting and your legs ached from overexerting yourself to run. Your body needed to rest before you collapsed from the fatigue. It was a large enough building that finding you would be a tasking ordeal for the monster. Perhaps he would give up his search for you and allow you to find a way out of this hellish place. You could only hope that you lost him earlier and he wouldn’t know where you crawled off to. 

Running up the steps to the entrance, you were met with the despairing sight of chains wrapped around the steel doors. 

“No, no, no…” you pleaded, grabbing onto the chains in hopes they were loose enough to open the doors. Luck was on your side, because they were– chains pulling taut around the doors, opening just enough to allow someone to squeeze through with some difficulty. Struggling to wiggle your way through, you pushed with all your might and breathed a sigh of relief when you fell inside. 

Taking deep breaths, you looked around and tried to make sense of your surroundings. Needing to squint your eyes to adjust seeing in the dark, you could see a narrow hallway with dirty and rusty lockers lined along the walls. It was an uncanny sight, the broken down doors of the classrooms and splintering wood of the floor making you realize how decrepit this place was. It was so unkempt and old that you flinched when the floorboards creaked with every step you took. You felt like dying every time the floor protested your weight and critters ran spooked by the noise.

The hall turned a sharp corner to the left, more lockers and doors appearing on either side of the walls as before. It was then you noticed the broken elevator, the metal frame twisted in sharp angles and torn cables dangling from tears in the ceiling. If there was an elevator here, then that must mean there was a way up! 

Not caring this time about the noise you made, you hurried to the end of the hall trying to see if you could find some way to get to the second floor. If you could just get there, you would have the advantage of viewing who (or what) was below you on the ground. Maybe even spot a route or path out of this place. Passing by the restrooms, you nearly gagged when a putrid stench hit your nose. The buzzing of flies and roaches in the area made you squeamish, your face scrunching into a disgusted grimace at the dirty facilities before continuing your trek forward.

Finding the stairs was a much harder task than you expected. Faced with multiple locked areas of the building, you were forced to backtrack and navigate through other sections of the building to find another way up. It seemed like a dead end everywhere you turned. 

Just when you were about to give up, you finally spotted stairs leading to the upper floor. 

“Finally,” you muttered in exasperation. Your turtle neck shirt was damp with your sweat, clinging to your body so uncomfortably that you would definitely need a shower soon. Placing a hand on the cracked wall nearest you, you took a breather, closing your eyes as you tried to get your energy back up again. 

“Just a little bit more. Don’t give up yet.” 

Forcing your aching feet to move, you headed tiredly towards the stairs. Once you reached them, you walked up to the landing, turning left to continue climbing forward when you noticed something. 

“You have got to be kidding me?!”

A disbelieving look crossed your face. In front of you was a dilemma that nearly made you scream in frustration. The only way to the upper floor was barricaded with chairs and tables, furniture piled up haphazardly along the second set of stairs as if to ensure no one could get by it. It effectively put a stop to your plans. 

Maybe you could climb over the obstruction? No, you couldn’t risk something falling out of place and crushing you with its weight, causing you harm in the end. You thought about using the railing to skip past the hurdle of furniture, but hearing the creak of the brittle handrail when you held it had you rethinking that idea. Placing your hands on your hips, you tried thinking of how to get past this obstacle. Maybe taking it apart little by little would help?

Seeing as you had no choice, you started dismantling the barricade one chair at a time. The tables were too heavy and had your arms shaking from the effort of pulling them so you left them for last. Once you piled up enough chairs to give you room to move one of the tables, you shook your hands to prepare them to take the brunt of the weight. 

While you were busy with this task, you didn’t know you damned yourself.

What you didn’t know was when you squeezed through the gap of the entrance, your sweater caught on an edge and tore a strip of the pink cloth. You didn’t know it was like a beacon, its vibrant color contrasting from the dull and bleak setting of the school. You didn’t know he held it in his bloodied hand, bringing it to his hidden face as if to smell you. You didn’t see the shudder that went through him. You also didn't see him bursting through the shackled entrance of the school, breaking the chain to pieces as the steel doors lay bent beneath his foot.

However, you did feel the building shake following a loud crash. 

Startled at the muffled explosion, you released the legs of the table you were holding, crouching as you looked around wildly. The echoed sounds of doors being forced open could then be heard even from a distance. Lockers were slammed and torn off the walls, the clash of metal producing an awful screeching sound that resonated across the empty building.

What?! What was that?! You panicked internally, palms sweating as you hid behind the railing. What could’ve made that thunderous sound? Was it him?! It couldn’t be, could it? Trembling with fear, you realized you were a sitting duck. You couldn't go back the way you came or you’ll risk facing what caused that loud commotion.

When you heard a familiar growl, you couldn’t stop the tiny sob escaping your lips. It was HIM! When his steps edged closer to your location, your eyes wandered desperately around your cornered space and spotted a clothed table at the bottom of the stairs. Running down the stairs, you all but crawled beneath the table, tucking your feet in as you tried to make yourself as small as possible. You didn’t have any other option. The cloth provided you with enough cover to pull off not being seen and you could only pray you weren't found.

Eyes wide with fear, you held your breath when he turned the corner, the floor trembling with every heavy step of his boots. You could also hear the scrape of the giant sword he dragged with him, the shrill sound hurting your ears. You nearly bolted when you heard the locker doors being opened one by one before getting slammed shut.

Oh God, please, don't let him find me. Please, please, please. You shut your eyes tightly, clasping your hands against your mouth as you tried to keep as quiet as you could. The corner of your eyes teared up, a lump in your throat wanting to give way to sobs of distress the closer he got.

~

His trudging steps slowed as he surveyed the area. 

Pyramid Head tilted his head curiously, his helmet creaking with the action. He didn’t know where you hid but he could sense you near. When he pressed that piece of fabric to his helmed head, your intoxicating aroma set his nerves of fire, twisting his mind into a lustful haze–the urge to pillage and kill you getting stronger by the minute. 

When he heard that soft gasp earlier in the alley, he was stunned by your feminine form mere meters away from him. You were a small thing compared to him, the top of your head not even reaching his chest. Whatever surprise he felt was momentary, desire quickly flooding his veins as he drank in your lovely shape. How long since a pretty thing like you entered this infernal domain? How easy would it be to subdue you and make you a slave to his lust? What sounds could he coax from those wet lips of yours? His member twitched to life beneath his withered skirt, the thought of possessing you clouding his mind with lascivious images of your naked body beneath him.

When he took a step towards you, you ran like a frightened lamb.

Watching you turn around to flee– the distance growing between you with every passing second– Pyramid Head gripped his weapon tightly, anger consuming him as he followed right after you. 

As if he would allow you to escape him. 

He would take you. Tarnish that soft flesh and desecrate your soul until you were nothing but a bloody heap beneath him. 

He just needed to catch you first. 

Opening the lockers one by one, he couldn’t suppress his frustrated grumbles when you weren’t there. Where were you? He shifted his attention to the familiar clutter of furniture on the staircase, noting how neatly some chairs were piled in a corner–knowing that the times he’s ventured here, the chairs were never tampered in such a way. 

Realizing how close he must be to capturing you, he started up the stairs, dropping his weapon without a care as he tore down the barricade in a frenzy to find you. 

When his search proved fruitless, the veins in his arms and neck became more prominent from his fury. WHERE WERE YOU? Blind with rage, he smashed his fists against the broken furniture and the rotting walls, tearing everything in his wake as he roared loud enough to make his helmet vibrate violently from the sound. It hurt enough to cause him to rupture something and bleed, trails of blood dripping down his neck to mix with the blood of his other victims.

As he stood breathing heavily on the landing of the stairs, trying to shake off the cloud of anger consuming him, a faint creak was heard downstairs. He twisted his body to look behind him, crazily observing the area where he heard it from. 

There was a lone table. The once white cloth adorning it was an ugly shade of brown, time not being kind to as it had torn holes ruining it. He could care less about the useless piece of cloth. What had his undivided attention was the dainty fingers that could be seen poking out beneath it. 

There was a moment of silence before he charged down the stairs. 

Gripping the sides of the table, he flung it across the hall, old wood shattering to pieces when it smacked against the railing of the stairs. He paid little mind to the destruction he created, his focus landing entirely on your meek figure below him. A look of horror crossed your face, mouth open in shock as you stared up at him. A rumble of contentment echoed within his helmet having finally found his prize, quickly dropping down to his knees to grab you and pin you between his legs.

It didn’t take much to overpower you, Pyramid Head sitting on your thighs to lessen your squirming. Bunching the pink fabric in his hands, he tore your sweater apart like paper, your startled scream doing little to deter him. His bloodied hands groped the exposed flesh hungrily, smudging your torso with the red substance as you shrieked in disgust. The way the softness of your tummy gave under his firm hands had him addicted. He loved how weak and pliant your flesh was.

Your mounds were a sight too, spilling off the cups of the small band around your chest. He tore that off easily too, your bust jiggling from the action and making him groan at the sight. Much to his pleasure, he saw your skin pebble with goosebumps, the cool air of the room turning your nipples into tight buds.

His hands moved, thick fingers stroking over your breasts to test the doughy texture. You gasped, arching from the pressure, unknowingly pushing your chest against his palms. Much to your chagrin, the rough pads of his fingers sent a fire bolt careening from your nipples and through your quivering belly to ignite heat into your core. You bit your lip, ignoring the sensation as you tried shoving his hands away with your feeble strength. When he tugged harshly on the tips of your breasts, you let out a pained whine, the kittenish sound sending a shock of pleasure down his spine. He wished to tear you apart, bathe in your essence as he drank up your tortured cries.

He was reluctant to pull his hands away from you, your body smeared in a beautiful canvas of blood, but his need to fully claim you could not be denied.  Pyramid Head removed his hands from your breasts with a final rough squeeze, shifting one to rub his erection to alleviate some of his need, while the other hand trailed down to caress your clothed hip possessively.

He was bewitched by you, reverently stroking your skin with bloodied hands to dirty your purity. Shielding your breasts from his view, you were a vision with your head turned to the side, choking on a sob as you realized that despite how your mind protested his brutish touches, your body betrayed you when slickness dripped between your thighs.

At war with yourself, you didn't pay attention when his attention turned to the last article of clothing preserving your modesty.

Easing up on his weight, he shifted his body down to tug at your black jeans. When the tight fabric stuck around your hips, he grew irritated at the minor inconvenience. Before you could voice out a protest, he roughly flipped you over onto your stomach, shock coursing through you when he tore the denim to shreds at your sides, dragging the rest of it down your legs and taking your panties and shoes with them.

You could feel the heat in your face at the state of your nudity. He caressed your ass then– forcing an undignified yelp from you at the offensive touch– squeezing the globes on either palm, his nails digging into the fat hard enough to leave lasting bruises on your unblemished skin. 

"N-no! You're hurting me!" 

You hissed between your teeth, sharp aches blossoming from where his fingers pressed on your ass. You shivered with disgust when the blood on his hands dirtied your globes, matching it with the mess of your front.

Brushing a calloused finger along your vulva, he was met with the heat of your pussy. It had your body jerking to attention, the blood draining from your face in an instant. When he tried to insert the bloody finger inside you, you shook erratically, your hands scrambling for purchase on the floor to get away from him. 

Tired of your antics, he twisted you to your back, uncaring of the yelp that left you when the back of your head hit the floor with a loud thud. Holding you down with one hand around your neck, he nearly choked you as he began pulling impatiently at the fastenings of his long skirt to jerk himself free with his other. His body shook with excitement, enticed by your naked flesh even as you begged sweetly under him. 

He paid little mind to your frantic scratching on his arm, the pain miniscule when compared to the hard throbbing of his cock— the twitching member pulsating so strongly that it had his mind blazing from the painful pressure, a groan of distress escaping him the longer it was kept confined. Pain that would only be soothed once he was encompassed by the tight walls of your pussy. 

~

The state of your mind went into a panic when you saw it. What lay between those muscled thighs was a monstrosity. It would bring you nothing but pure anguish and misery, the way it could barely spring upward with its heavy weight. Accompanied by an equally heavy set of balls and prominent veins lining the length of it– it was more of an instrument of pain than that of pleasure, meant to punish and brutalize those that fell victim to it. 

A whimper left you before you started thrashing in earnest, clawing away at his arm to get away from that. 

"LET GO OF ME! NO! Y-YOU CAN'T-!" 

You didn't care that he could snap your neck in a second, didn't care that he could rip you limb from limb or crush your head with his bare hands. Those were much better options than the alternative he was hellbent on pursuing. 

What the hell?! How can he be that bi-!!? Your thoughts were interrupted when you felt monstrous hands grip your knees and pull them apart savagely, screaming at the painful ache in your pelvis following the rough motion. He knelt between your spread legs, his large thighs forcing you open and leaving you unable to close your legs.

"W-wait! Wait! Think about what you're doing, please?! It's not possi-?!" 

The blunt head of his cock tapped your entrance, the pearl of precum mixing with your wetness as he tried to nudge his way in. His size proved too much for your smaller frame, his dick sliding up your vulva in a failed attempt to penetrate you. The insistent push of his hips had you holding your breath, body freezing in place when the head of his cock threatened to breach your cunt only to slide along your labia once more. 

The rough motion had you panting, the repeated nudging on your clit causing your pelvis to twitch from the erotic stimulation. You couldn’t stop your body’s reaction to him, a pulsating heat shimmering beneath your skin. Taking a glance down, you shuddered at the sight of his cock sandwiched between your spread lips. It had your feminine channel burning for him despite your fear of him. Shame accompanied your arousal as you felt more of your natural fluids coating the underside of his dick and flowing down your ass in rivulets.

While you lay gasping at the dizzying sensation, you were ignorant to his growing agitation when he missed his mark again. He raised your hips higher, giving himself a better view of your leaking hole before grabbing his wet shaft with one hand and lining himself up once more. This time he was determined to properly defile you.

Your eyes fluttered open when he adjusted you, looking up at him in confusion as you tried to clear your mind. The momentary pleasure he had given you was obliterated in a second when you felt the press of his cock head stab its first inch inside your dripping pussy. 

Like a bucket of cold water hitting your face, you shrieked when the reality of your situation set in. Flinching from his touch, you tried twisting your hips away from him hoping to dislodge the stiff cock from its journey inside you. 

"No! You won't fit!"

Bucking your hips uselessly, you failed to realize that your swirling hips moved pleasantly around the tip, a dribble of cum shooting out of his cock to coat your insides– making you gasp when you felt it and him shudder strongly at the feel of your sweet cunt. Seeing how you were so lubricated for him, he repositioned himself above you, bracing a foot on the floor while keeping the other leg bent at the knee. Grabbing the back of your knees, he pushed them forward near your head, effectively placing you in a mating press of sorts.

Not giving you any time to protest, he thrusted half of himself in one diligent push.

You yelped at the sudden pain, eyes nearly popping out of your face as you felt your pussy stretch beyond its limit. Glimmer of tears rushed to your eyes, the pain making your mouth wobble as he pulled away– the drag of his cock against your inner walls nearly causing you to faint– only to cry out when he thrusted back in with more force. More of his cock violated your sore insides, rendering you a screaming mess as he continued to plunder your wrecked form. Too scared to look at the damage between your legs, you pushed against his firm stomach, pleading for him to stop or he'll kill you. 

A sharp jab into your swollen flesh had you crying out, arching your back as tears trailed down your face. No manner of preparation could’ve made his passage bearable, the stark difference between his gargantuan size and your regular size evident as you struggled to accommodate him.

He took you like a brute. Not caring about your distressed wails.

It hurt.

Maybe the pain was making you delirious, but beneath the agony, there was a thread of pleasure seeping through the cracks. You refused to believe it, the thought of your body betraying you in such a way nearly crumbling you.

…

…

 Then why were your hips moving timidly alongside his?

~

His hands bit into your sides, Pyramid Head lifting your lower body off the floor to smack against him, driving the rest of his cock inside your spasming pussy with a low groan.

It was a tight fit. 

Once the entirety of his throbbing cock was seathed inside your warm heat, he took the time to glance down at you. You were a sweaty mess of blood and tears, pained gasps emerging from your trembling lips as your body twitched uncontrollably from his claiming of you. Your entrance was stretched taut around his engorged cock, the blood smeared on your pelvis making him wonder if it was yours or from him. 

He was immune to your choked sobs, not feeling the least bit remorseful of his violent taking of you. Rather, he was pleased you survived. Many didn’t make it past this stage, but you proved to be a pleasant surprise. 

The snug walls of your cunt suddenly clenched around his dick, nearly making him cum on the spot. 

He pulled his hips back, hissing when your walls clamped down on him, making the task difficult before driving forward with purpose. Before long, your soaked entrance made his movements easier, his dick sliding much faster inside your straining pussy. Pained cries turned into soft mewls, your hips eventually moving in tandem with his with every brush of your clit. 

He paused midthrust to stare at the bulge in your tummy in fascination. It was a ghastly sight– the way your lower belly distended from his cock penetrating you. He pressed on the bump in an inquisitive manner, jolting in shock when your channel clenched around him erratically, a stream of fluid splashing on his lower belly following your loud shriek. 

The shock was momentary, Pyramid Head rubbing your secretion between his fingers to play with the strings. Bringing them beneath the helm of his helmet, he was overtaken with the smell of your lust. Even though you couldn’t meet his gaze, you could feel him staring at you in a hungry manner. He gave you little time to be embarrassed, hunching over you to place your legs above his elbows, spreading you further and spearing into you with brutal thrusts.

He couldn't stop the rapid succession of thrusts, driving into you faster and faster as his release built up with every plunge inside you.

~

You twisted helplessly, opening your mouth to voice out your pleasure as fire spread throughout your body. His fierce pace had you writhing wildly beneath him, shaking your head at the growing tension in your stomach– signaling another approaching orgasm. You didn’t want him to stop. Your womb clenched with every harsh jab of his monstrous dick against it, the pressure escalating with every second of your ruin.

“O-oh! Please, please, please–!!” You sobbed, not knowing if you wanted him to stop his rough onslaught on your poor body or begging for more as his hips collided violently between the juncture of your thighs. The wet slap of skin on skin echoed along the hall, your passionate cries and his low groans forever imprinted on your mind. Your legs grew tired, falling lax on either side of him, unable to keep up with his vigorous pace. 

He used you like nothing more than a cocksleeve, molding the shape of his cock in your tight pussy, his sac slapping lewdly against your ass.

It became too much. 

Your mind went blank when the knot in your belly finally snapped, letting out a scream of completion when intense heat spread throughout your shaking body. Your vaginal walls gripped him tightly, trying to milk him for all his worth, the sudden tightness forcing a growl to emerge from him. Tears escaped you, the painful pleasure driving you mad in his embrace.

White lights danced behind your eyelids, your orgasm turning you into a puddled mess of ecstasy even as he continued to ravage you.

The last thing you felt before closing your eyes in exhaustion was a scorching heat filling your insides, calloused fingers rubbing the bump in your tummy in wonder.

❣️🖤❣️Thank you for reading~! ❣️🖤❣️

I got another treat for my dear followers! You gotta know I'm posting NSFW Art to go with my fics as well~ (*^ ‿ <*)♡

🎃Happy Halloween, you guys! Stay safe out there!🎃

Full NSFW Art here ---> (⁠ㆁ⁠ω⁠ㆁ⁠)

[saintobio]

sincerely yours. (12)

↳ gojou satoru/reader

when a twist of fate led their marriage to the path of a quintessential tragic romance, two past lovers go through another series of experiences on love, heartbreak, identity, illness, and trauma along the road to a happily ever after. 

genre. heavy angst, amnesia, modern au, 18+ 

tags/warnings. depression, mentions of cheating, trauma, implied suicide attempt, toxic relationships, illnesses

notes. 11k wc. finally. i wrote this with only one eye open so please don't mind the inconsistencies, i'm trying my best to tie any loose ends before we reach the ending. if the writing feels rushed, it’s bcos i’m just ready to wrap up this series 😭

series masterlist -> episode thirteen

You thought everything that had happened last night was just a dream. 

Because you had gotten used to the constant disappointments and vicissitudes of your life, sharing such domestic bliss with the person you loved had started to feel far-fetched for you. It had become an unachievable fantasy, a colorful delusion created by your mind to conceal the actual darkness of pain that surrounded it. 

But as you opened your eyes that morning, the familiar warmth of a sleeping Satoru’s embrace was the reality you never saw coming. The steady rise and fall of his chest, the comfort of his arms around you, it all felt surreal—like a fragile dream teetering on the edge of shattering. You wondered if it would be okay to stay here for now. To forget about the rest of the damn world and remain in his arms, staring at his beautiful saintly face, listening to his slow and steady heartbeat.

When Satoru stirred from his sleep, you knew your daydream was over. But he was pulling you dangerously close with arms wrapped around your frame and his lips pressed against your forehead. He was only half-awake, it seemed. His long white lashes reminded you of Sachiro’s as you watched him mumble incoherent words from his sleep, something along the lines of, ‘I’m sorry’ and ‘Akemi’. 

That was your cue to pull yourself away from him. With guilt now coursing through your body, you sat up from bed and covered your naked body with the duvet. Akemi. You had completely abandoned the thought of Akemi last night, and now you were here in bed with ‘supposedly’ her man. As much as your heart was in bliss from last night’s events, the dark and cold reality was that you slept with a man who wasn’t yours. It was a principle you told yourself you would never cross, but everything concerning Satoru Gojou seemed to be bringing you to that. 

“Satoru, hey.” Your voice almost came out as a plea as you shook his arm, your guilt eating at you with every minute that passed. “Wake up.” 

His eyelashes fluttered as he struggled to open his eyes, blinded by the sunlight that gleamed through the window as he stretched his arms and looked at you. “Y/N?” he softly whispered, a hand tenderly placed on your back as he scooted closer. “What’s wrong?” 

Slight disbelief blanketed your gaze. “You think this isn’t wrong?” 

Satoru let out a sigh of exasperation, pulling his head back, and covering his eyes with a hand as if last night’s events played through his mind scene to scene. He was obviously caught in a mindwreck thinking about the girl he had just cheated on. “It shouldn’t be,” he mumbled, “But it feels like it.”

“So you do regret it,” you laughed at your own words, internally in pain. 

“I didn’t say that.” He finally pulled himself back up, sitting as he pulled you towards him. “Y/N, if we really thought last night was wrong, we would have stopped after the first time.” He shook his head at the irony. “Look, it’s on me, alright? I put you in this situation.” 

“And I allowed it,” you argued, “I allowed it, Satoru. It makes me feel dirty. I feel like, like I’m wrecking someone else’s home. It’s not me.” 

Satoru held his breath, a look of hesitation dawning on his face as he realized that this wasn’t just a dream of his. It was pure and raw reality that he had made a mistake that he could never undo. While thinking it through, he rubbed his eyes and sat up, leaning against the headboard as he assessed the situation. Then, he looked at you, his expression softening as he spoke, “No, not your fault. It’s just complicated,” he insisted, “You didn’t do anything wrong. I’m the one who owes ‘Kemi an apology.” 

Each time you heard her nickname from him was a punch to your gut. And each silent cuss that left his lips was an arrow to your heart. So you put it on yourself to accept his reaction. “It’s okay. You can be honest and say last night was a mistake.”

“No, no, no. I didn’t say that,” he replied quickly, reaching out to take your hand. 

But you already stood up from the bed, clutching the duvet around your body like a shield against the encroaching chill. Your throat felt tight, and tears threatened to spill, but you fought to keep them at bay. Satoru’s gaze followed you with an expression of helplessness, as if he was struggling to bridge the gap between his rights and wrongs.

As you turned to face him, a knot of frustration and heartache tangled within you. “So, what now?” you asked, trying your hardest to keep your composure. “How are we gonna fix this, Satoru? How?”

Before he could answer, the door to the cabin suddenly burst open, and Akemi stood in the doorway with her eyes wide with shock and fury. The confrontation followed as soon as she caught you in a compromising position with Satoru, and the words she uttered next were ones you least expected from her. 

“You’re a hypocrite! You’ve become the person you despised the most when you were married.” 

“You’re no better than Sera! And that’s why you’re miserable, and you’ll forever be miserable! If this is your way of getting back at me..” 

“Then jokes on you, because Satoru will never be faithful to you. He’ll keep cheating on you, just like he did now with me! You two belong in that cycle!”

You felt like an outsider in your own heartbreak, the confrontation intensifying as you tried to process the bitter truth in silence. All you could do was stand there and cry. Even Satoru’s attempts to placate Akemi were futile as her anger only seemed to grow. The more her eyes danced back and forth between you and her lover, the more she wanted to destroy everything in her path.

Satoru’s face was indiscernible from where you stood. “Akemi, please, just listen—”

Akemi, however, was already turning on her heel and storming back into her cabin while eliciting loud, muffled sobs. Your chest tightened with sorrow and shame. Complete, utter shame of doing this to another woman. How could you even correct a situation like this? How could you pick yourself back up after you just trampled on another woman’s feelings because of your actions?

Satoru, like you, hesitated on his next move, his eyes meeting yours with a look of anguish. “I need to talk to her, Y/N. I’ll be back.”

Without waiting for your response, he already bolted after her, leaving you alone in a quiet, pathetic state. The door slammed behind him, the sound reverberating through the cabin like thunder in a heavy storm.

You didn’t know what to do, didn’t know how to face everyone, didn’t have the guts to even talk to Shoko and Suguru who now both have to deal with such scandals. You were too ashamed of yourself, as if your femininity had been stripped off its rights after you slept with the man you swore you would never get back with. 

“I didn’t mean it,” you could only silently whisper your laments, pacing around your cabin while swallowing the weakness that tried to escape. “I hate this.” 

The minutes dragged on, and each second stretched into an eternity as you waited for Satoru’s return. For now, you sat down heavily on the edge of the bed, wondering what excuse he was telling Akemi, and what actions he would do to try and calm her down. Did he kiss her, perhaps? Did he cup her face and tell her that you were nothing but a mistake? What was taking him so long? Or were they doing things to try and erase the same deeds you two did last night? 

The cacophony of voices and commotion from outside the cabin grew louder, and your curiosity led you to open your door, meeting the eyes of one of the hotel staff who sent you a look full of judgment. 

“Where’s…” you hesitated if she was the right person to ask, “Where’s Satoru? Would you know?” 

“Oh, ma’am. He already left the hotel half an hour ago… with Miss Akemi.” 

Her answer hit you hard like a truck on a highway. And your heart dropped as you realized who became The Fool in these deck of cards. Satoru had not only run off after Akemi, but had also left you behind without a word. 

The room felt colder now, the once-intimate sanctuary you shared with your ex-husband now a prison of your own grief. Even the familiar warmth of the bed seemed like a distant memory as you approached it, your body trembling as you thought of how you were treated like a dirty rag, thrown away after being used over and over again. 

With a soft, choked sob, you collapsed onto the bed, the duvet still a tangled mess from earlier. And your emotions, so tightly restrained, finally broke free. You pulled the blanket around you as if it could shield you from the crushing pain. The betrayal, the sense of being discarded for another—it all converged into a torrent of anguish. All you could do was cling to the duvet as if it were the only anchor in a stormy sea. 

——

Returning home didn’t make the situation any better. 

Although you tried to tell yourself that you shouldn’t be waiting on Satoru to contact you, you still found yourself checking your phone multiple times a day. Each second that passed without hearing from him was another stab to your heart. But it shouldn’t feel like that. It shouldn’t, not when Satoru clearly made his choice of choosing yet another woman over you. 

Of course, you knew what you did was wrong. In everyone’s eyes, sleeping with someone else’s man was unforgivable. There was no excuse, no way to justify your actions. Even if some people might side with you, saying you owed no one loyalty, it didn’t change how you felt about the whole situation. And that was because you remembered all too well the pain of being cheated on, and letting another woman endure the same heartbreak and betrayal was a weight on your conscience that you couldn’t ignore.

Sighing, you turned to the left side of the bed and saw Sachiro sleeping peacefully, clutching his favorite starfish plushie in his tiny arms. The thought of losing your son was unbearable, especially when he was your only source of calm amid the chaos that surrounded you. Caring for him was your solace, and his innocent presence served as a band-aid for your wounded heart. The most heart-wrenching part of this was knowing you couldn’t even repay him for the stability he brought you. Sachiro deserved a complete family to enrich his life, yet you—as his own biological mother—were unable to give him that. 

“Sleep tight, Sachi.” You lightly stroked his white hair before planting a soft kiss on his cheek. “Don’t let the bed bugs bite.”

The past few weeks had been a blur of emotions, work, and parenting—with each day blending into the next like a tornado of dull colors. You still hadn’t heard from Satoru, but the days of waiting and checking your phone for any notification from him did gradually stop. The only thing that didn’t stop replaying in your head like a broken record was the cabin incident, the very night that drew all these overthinking in your mind and in your heart. 

Returning to work did provide some distraction, but it didn’t take away the sting. It also didn’t help that your staff noticed the change in your demeanor, and how distracted you often were during your meetings and warehouse visits. Even Nobara was worried about how absentminded you had become, but you brushed off all their concerns with a forced smile. After all, staying at home would do you worse than being at work. 

Now, you were back in your office, and the soft knock on the door cut you off from your trance. It was Yuki peeking through the small opening on your door, her usual professional demeanor softened by a concerned expression. “Hey, Y/N. Do you have a minute?” she asked, stepping inside and closing the door behind her with a quiet click. 

You nodded, trying to muster a smile. “Sure, Yuki. What’s up?”

“I wanted to check in on you,” she began, taking a seat opposite your desk, “If you need to extend your vacation, please, by all means, go ahead. It’s off-season, anyway. I’ll take care of everything here while you’re focusing on yourself.”

That wasn’t really a good idea. And you shouldn’t be slacking off work when this very fashion house you establish used to be your passion, not your job. Yet here you were, losing all the inspiration to even run a business. “I don’t know if I have the energy for anything else right now.”

“Well, if you’re too worried about leaving work,” Yuki continued, her tone shifting to a more business-like note, “the progress we’ve made with Hearte is looking really promising. The new collection is getting great feedback, and our upcoming showcase is shaping up well. We’re on track for a strong quarter.”

“All because of you, Yuki.” A spark of gratitude appeared on your face. “Thanks for the update. It’s good to know things are moving in the right direction.”

She then stood up and gave you a reassuring smile. “I’m here if you need anything, Y/N. But seriously, take some time for yourself. You deserve it.”

On that same evening, you came home to your father’s mansion, and the first thing that greeted you when you entered the foyer was Gen sitting by the living room. And needless to say, her expression was a mix of concern and frustration as if she had been waiting for you to return. You weren’t really in the mood to have some back-and-forths with her, but you also didn’t like how she dropped her phone on the table and crossed her arms, her eyes narrowing at you like she was a mother who could scold you like a child.

“I’m not even gonna say anything at this point, but did you really do it with him?” Gen’s voice was low, but the disappointment was palpable. You could feel it from a few meters away. 

“What are you talking about?” you bit back, your already-terrible mood swings shifting into an unhealthy direction. 

Gen responded by pointing at her phone, gesturing for you to take a look at whatever’s on it. Reluctantly, you grabbed the device, and as you were scrolling through the screen, you stumbled upon a blind item circulating on social media. The words were vague but pointed, hinting at a scandalous encounter between two ex-spouses, both of whom were well-known figures. Great. Your heart stopped as you realized that the article was very much about you and Gojou. 

The online comments were brutal, not like you weren’t used to anonymous harassment anyway, but these ones were full of speculating and judging without knowing the full story. Everyone also seemed to be siding with “Ms. A” instead of you as though the person behind the article was clearly trying to paint you as the villain. It was written for the purpose of destroying your reputation rather than any regular exposé, and whoever wrote it was definitely someone who disliked you. 

Your shoulders slumped as you scrolled through hate comment after hate comment, a seemingly endless vitriol for someone they didn’t even know, and avoided your sister’s gaze knowing full well that seeing her expression would only make you feel worse. 

“Is it true?” your sister asked like there was even an ounce of chance that it was simply a rumor. Unfortunately, it was anything but. 

Sliding her phone back on the coffee table, you drew in a deep breath. “I can’t undo it, Gen. It happened.” 

“So, you did sleep with him? Am I hearing this right?” Gen sighed, rubbing her temples. “Do you have any idea what this could do to you? To Sachiro? People are ruthless, and now this blind item is all over the place and they’re targeting you like a punching bag!”

Your mouth felt heavy, as if it was weighed down by an invisible burden, making it difficult to form words or speak. And before you could think of a response, Ian became your temporary savior as he walked in with a calm but serious mien. “I’ve seen the post,” he said, holding up his phone. “It’s clearly defamatory, and we can take legal action. I’ll handle it.”

Even though Ian was a man of remarkable phlegm, you remained abashed, knowing that everyone’s feasting at the juicy rumor that you slept with your ex-husband. Yet, the only thing you could do was to put on a front. To save face. To act like someone you’re not. “Thank you, Ian. I’d appreciate that.”

Anticipating another lecture from Gen about Satoru, you began retreating to your room with your footsteps bouncing desperately on the grand staircase. This conversation was done. You just weren’t there to hear it anymore. However, as you climbed the stairs with a vacant mind, you could still hear your sister calling out to you.

“Y/N!” she called, her voice now tinged with concern. “I’m not going to give you a hard time. We can sort this issue out. Maturely.”

“I’m good.” Sorry, Gen. It was the anxious-avoidant side of you speaking. You didn’t want to discuss such a sensitive situation to anyone, even with your sister, because you weren’t ready to face all the negativity it would put you through. You were already dealing with enough, and going through yet another emotional turmoil might actually put you to your deathbed at this point. 

So, for now, isolating yourself from the world was the best choice. 

And as soon as you entered your room, you saw Sachiro’s nanny tucking him into bed. All your worries and self-destructive thoughts vanished in an instant the moment you looked at your son. It was like the heavens gave you your personal angel, a cute little cherub who brought nothing but light and happiness to your life. He was your sunshine, your shooting star, your bundle of joy. Nothing in this world could erase the pessimist in you than little Sachiro. 

“I got it from here.” You thanked the nanny and asked her to close the door before quickly joining your son in bed, wrapping him in a warm, comforting hug—more for your own comfort than his.

“Mama?” he asked, his voice unusually raspy, and his chest rising and falling heavily. “I mwiss you, mama!”

You pressed your lips onto his forehead. “I miss you too, my baby. How was daycare today?”

He seemed to struggle to speak too, but Sachiro still did his best to recount his day while he was trying to catch air in between his sentences. “Teacher ask Sachi to go home, mama. Sachi is tired.”

“Baby, are you okay? Are you sick?” Now, your motherly instincts kicked in immediately. You could tell something was wrong, so you reached for a thermometer from the bedside drawer to check his temperature, and listened to his breathing at the same time. “What happened to Sachi? Do you want Mommy to take you to the hospital?”

Sachiro shook his head and gave you a sleepy smile. “No, mama. Sachi is just sweepy.”

When the thermometer beeped, you were relieved to see that his temperature was normal. “Are you having trouble breathing, my sweetheart?” You looked into his droopy eyes and gently placed your hand on his chest. 

Once again, Sachiro shook his head. Maybe you were just overthinking. He often ran around the house or played in the bathtub before bed, which could explain why he seemed out of breath. It wasn’t the first time it happened. 

“Okay, Sachi. Go to sleep now. Close your eyes, baby.”

“Night night, mama.”

For now, you turned off the night lamp, and headed to the bathroom in silent and careful steps. It was quiet enough indeed, but in your head was an awful noise you couldn’t escape. And stepping into the shower only increased the warfare in your mind, as it immediately brought images of Satoru and Akemi back in the cabin, the harsh comments from the article, and the lack of contact from your ex-husband which all overwhelmed you at once. By now, he would have already seen that article. Nanami or Miwa might have already alerted him about it. But the fact that he said nothing, the fact that he let the public scrutinize you, destroy you with such vile, hurtful words behind their screens brought you a kind of pain that you wouldn’t wish upon anyone else. 

Because if it was Akemi in that position, he would have defended her in a heartbeat. 

So in your silence, under the cascading water of the shower, you let the tears flow—its warmth distinguishable compared to the cold droplets falling on you. If only you had successfully drowned yourself that night at the lake. If only Satoru didn’t pull you back in, none of this would have happened. 

That moment was deeply poignant to you, and you saw him in a new light you thought you would never see again because of the darkness of your past. Yet, with the events that followed your special moment, memories eventually turned into spite. Your sweet exchange twisted into something bitter. Looking back at that time when he kissed you at the lake now made you feel nauseous and hollow inside, with bile forming on your throat and threatening to be retched. 

The most gut-wrenching part about this was the fact that there wasn’t anyone left who could rescue you from this abyss of heartache anymore. 

——

There had been a sense of detachment in your emotions in the following days that passed, almost as though they belonged to a stranger inhabiting your body. Toji, the only person who comforted you at times like these, was no longer by your side to fulfill the warmth you once desperately sought, and now you were alone to face this cruel, mind-numbing battle all by yourself. It was you against the world. You against the entire populace inhabiting this living hell. And with that many enemies against one, how could you win? 

It was quite funny, actually, that your humor took a surprising turn when you thought of how Sera must have felt when it was revealed to the public that she was Satoru’s mistress. The irony didn’t even stop at your thoughts alone, it manifested itself outside Hearte’s headquarters, wearing a pink puffer jacket and a white prairie skirt. 

“Sera?” you blurted out her name in wonder, nonplussed as you got out of the car to approach her.

“Hey, Y/N.” She offered a casual smile while carrying an air of sophistication around her. That wasn’t the only thing that changed about Sera. Her hair was also shorter than the last you saw her, her face now sporting a more natural makeup, and her outfit a more modest yet classy choice. It was no longer the Sera who tried hard to fit in amongst the upper echelon of society, but a Sera who seemed to be satisfied at her current standing in life. 

What an awkward encounter. Was her presence your hypocritical reminder for sleeping with Satoru behind Akemi’s back? 

“What are you doing here?” you asked. 

And she answered with, “I read about what happened. You know, the thing on the internet.” She took a moment to pause, probably trying to choose the right words to say to her previous adversary. Because in a way, you two weren’t exactly friends. And you were no longer rivals either. Satoru was the only common denominator here, and Sera proved her exact sentiments about him by saying, “I just wanted to let you know that I understand your side. It’s a tough situation.”

You looked at her, searching for any hint of insincerity, but found none. “You were once on my spot,” you pointed out and gauged whether or not she would take the bait. For all you know, she could be putting on an act. “I’m assuming you’re here to rub it in my face how much of a hypocrite I am.” 

“No, that’s not it.” Sera was vehemently denying any malice on her intentions, and was instead trying to show you the sympathy of a woman who was once caught in the same predicament. “Look, I know it’s weird that I’m here out of all people. But the truth is, I just had to let you know that someone’s on your side. I’ve met the girl, okay? That… whoever she is. I don’t remember her name, and I hate having to pit two women against each other, but I’m telling you it’s about time you cut Satoru off your life. Completely. She doesn’t look like someone who’d easily let go. You’re just gonna suffer, Y/N.” 

Perhaps three years was too far back in your life and that tables could turn in a direction that you didn’t expect, as you could recall fragments of memories from when your only dilemma was dealing with Satoru and Sera in your marriage. She used to be besotted with your ex-husband back then. But now, it wasn’t until you heard the way she spoke about him that you realized she must be harboring a grudge deeper than you had imagined. After all, he did ruin her life in ways you couldn’t imagine. And her advice, though unsolicited, made sense. Because you could understand where she was going with it. You could see the true intentions clearly conveyed by her face.

The only problem here was that you didn’t have it in your heart to agree with her. You were too much of an empathic person to be taking sides, even if the supposed villain in this painting was the ex-husband who, time and time again, hurt you. Your heart stubbornly cared for Satoru deep down, and your wifely instinct of defending him no matter how poorly he acted had always been there. No one could hate Satoru more than you did, that was true, but you also weren’t very accepting of hearing others describe him as this ruthless, cheating bastard. 

That was the reason why talking to Gen had eventually exhausted you. Because no one knew the real Satoru Gojou behind his facade of an irresponsible and reckless husband. 

“Now that you’re here…” The idea to redirect the conversation to another topic struck you, unwilling to engage in a conversation that pushed Satoru in a bad light. “Would you be interested in being a model for our upcoming campaign? We’re launching a new collection, and I think you’d be perfect.”

Sera’s eyes were an amalgam of confusion and surprise. “Uh, I mean… I’d love to, but why so sudden?” 

“You have the face for it.” You shrugged, but still sent a smile her way. “Are you working right now? If not, this could open doors for you to be discovered by modeling agencies. I’m closely tied with them since I work in the fashion industry, so I can do a few calls if you want.” 

“Hold on, I’m—” Sera touched her head, laughing as if she were dreaming this conversation. “Y/N, you’re doing too much here. I mean, I’d obviously love that, but wouldn’t it be awkward? People know me as your ex-husband’s mistress, and if they recognize me in Hearte ads, I’m sure as hell those fuck ass netizens won’t stop talking about it.”

She had a point, a very good point, but then again, your suggestion was only brought up because you had to change the topic. “Well, it’s just an offer to consider in the future.” 

“And I appreciate you always extending a hand to help me even if I did you wrong in the past,” she said, feelings of shame lacing her voice. “I haven’t forgotten about what you did for my brother, that’s why I’m here. I’m not your enemy anymore, Y/N.”

Just then, the roaring engine of a classic red Ferrari pulled up to the curb, interrupting the unexpected conversation you were having with your ex-husband’s former mistress. The window rolled down to reveal a pink-haired man whom you recognized as Ryomen Sukuna, an up and coming tech mogul, that Toji had mentioned about many times before. His eyes were only on one woman alone, and it wasn’t you. “Ready to go, babe?”

Honestly, good for Sera. No wonder her aura had become different. They seemed to be in a stable committed relationship, something that you could only ever dream about. If karma was truly real, this was the perfect example for it. 

In the back seat, you spotted a younger boy who looked exactly like Sukuna and, surprisingly, Megumi, the son of your ex-fiancé. Really? How many more people were you going to ‘coincidentally’ run into today? 

“Hello, miss!” the other boy called out cheerfully, while Megumi offered a polite nod. You replied with a wave, feeling a small sense of normalcy in their innocent presence.

“I gotta get going, Y/N,” excused Sera, gesturing a civil goodbye. 

But as she moved to get into the car, your phone buzzed in your pocket. A single glance at the screen made your heart drop. It was a call from the hospital.

“Hello?” you answered almost immediately, pressing the phone on your ears with a tight push.

“Ms. Y/N, this is the hospital. Your son, Sachiro Gojou, is in the ICU. We need you to come as soon as possible.”

Your stomach contracted into a tight ball as you stood rigid with terror. Then and there, the world seemed to tilt on its axis. “Wh-What do you mean he’s in the hospital?!” you managed to shout, swept by horripilation from the sudden news. “What happened to my son?! What’s—!” 

Sera’s concerned gaze met yours as you desperately yelled into the phone, hyperventilating. Your trembling hand was threatening to drop the phone. “Y/N, is everything okay?”

“My son… I… he…,” you stammered, your voice shaky with fear and urgency. Your muscles locked in a momentary paralysis, eyes wide with astonishment, and surprise rendering you immobile. The thought of Sachiro in a critical state was about to make you faint, with the last bits of images you saw that afternoon were of Sera and her boyfriend rushing to catch you from completely falling to the ground. 

——

Megumi didn’t know how to deliver the bad news. 

He came home after Yuuji’s brother rushed you to the hospital, shocked by everything that happened in a span of a single day. His mind was aching from all the thinking he was doing; praying that little Sachiro will be fine, hoping that you would stay strong throughout, and lastly, wondering how he would break it to his dad that something terrible had happened. 

His father wasn’t exactly the greatest man to tread this Earth, especially not after the drunken words he had ‘mistakenly’ uttered to you that night in Miami that resulted in your separation. Yes, Megumi knew every word and detail. His father told him everything just as a sober man would. Did you really think that the Toji Zen’in you knew would sputter that utter nonsense to you? That you had an empty soul. That he couldn’t be with someone like you. That you would forever be a placeholder to Megumi’s mother. Bullshit. None of those were true. His father told him that the reason he had to say those words, as piercing and trenchant as they may be, was because it was the only way he could free you from being caged in a relationship your heart didn’t genuinely want. 

It was Toji’s last resort to hurt you with his words, hoping that you would wake up from your false fantasy and finally have a reason to leave a relationship with a man that wasn’t Satoru Gojou. If Megumi’s father wasn’t at the top of the list of Forbes’ richest men in Japan, he would have felt a great deal of inferiority complex over a younger man like Gojou. Not because of his looks and his riches, but because he had you. No matter what Satoru did, no matter how many times he hurt you, he was and would always be that man you wanted to be with. 

Sighing, Megumi’s first task upon coming home was to check on his father’s room, only to find the dark room void of its owner. When he made his way down the grand staircase, he met an ill-spirited Naoya who was ranting to Mai about Sera flaunting Sukuna in front of his face. Megumi’s sigh was then followed by another. The drama in this house was relentless. He felt like he was exhaling endlessly, like a malfunctioning appliance. 

“Where’s dad?” asked Megumi, directing her question to a more rational Maki. 

The tall, green-haired girl gave him a knowing shrug. “You already know,” she said, “Drowning himself in alcohol down at the bar.” 

As always. 

Megumi jogged around the estate to eventually find his father at one of the wet bars near his home office. He was there, seated on a stool, his head drooping low with a glass of premium scotch in hand. How many glasses he’d had, Megumi could only hope the numbers weren't that high. But upon approaching his father, his presence was barely acknowledged as he sat on the stool next to him, suggesting that the grown man might be more inebriated than his son had expected.

“Dad,” spoke the Zen’in heir, “Dad, you good?” 

Toji lifted his head up, three sheets to the wind, as a smile crept up on his scarred lips. “Son.” 

“Let me take that.” Megumi grabbed a hold of the glass of scotch, sliding the strong liquor away from his father. “There’s something I ought to tell you.” 

Toji stayed nonchalant, sitting upright and tapping his fingers on the counter. “What’s it about this time?” he asked. “I’ve told you, I can’t stop the elders from arranging your marriage unless you’re honest with me about someone you like. I know you have someone in mind, but you’re not saying who. Are you just shy?”

Megumi gave his father a look of exasperation. He’s rambling, he thought, frustrated with his father’s inebriated chattering. “It’s not about that. It’s about Y/N-san.”

The mention of your name was the only thing that made Toji's demeanor shift to one of genuine concern. “What happened?”

“Sachi’s in a critical condition,” the younger Zen’in went straight to the point, “Y/N-san went manic over it and fainted before we could get her to the hospital.”

Toji was quick to grab his coat and car keys, as if all the alcohol in his system had immediately evaporated. But before he could leave, Megumi caught his father’s arm and pulled him back. 

“What?” said Toji, concern and urgency blanketing his gaze. “I need to be with her.” 

“Do you really need to?” Megumi countered. “Dad, I know it’s not right for me to stop you in this crucial situation, but are you gonna do this every time she’s in trouble? Do you plan to do this forever? Do you plan to keep drowning yourself in alcohol thinking about her? We care for her like family, that’s true, but you and her aren’t a thing anymore. Your responsibilities in taking care of her should stop, too. You, yourself, said it’d be best if she stopped being reliant on you. Now, do yourself a favor and stop trying to be this pathetic superhero.” 

The concern etching on Tojis’s face softened into a sense of realization, a sense of candidness that only someone as straightforward as his own son could evoke. Megumi had to, not because he didn’t care for you anymore, but because he had to ensure he wouldn’t lose his father over a relationship that had already ended. Toji was the only real family Megumi had left. 

“Stay, dad,” he pleaded, “Please.”

Toji took a deep breath and released it in the same second. “Okay,” he softly said, ruffling his son’s hair. “I won’t leave.” 

——

Why is it that you keep attracting things, places, and people that you disliked the most? 

You hated hospitals, and you had spoken about it enough to make it clear how much you dreaded going to a place where your worst memories had taken root. Yet, the sterile environment seemed to beckon you, dragging you back with a new nightmare each time. It was beyond your worst fears that you would find yourself racing through the halls mere minutes after regaining consciousness, desperately trying to reach where your son was.

Please be okay. Please be okay. 

Frantically, you scanned the corridors, searching for the ICU and hoping that what you had just heard was nothing more than a cruel illusion, that this was all just a nightmare. You weren’t a deeply devout person, but you did send prayers to every saint you could think of, hoping that Sachiro’s current state wasn’t in the median between life and death. 

Because if you lost your son, then there was no point in living anymore. This life wouldn’t be worth enduring. 

“Y/N!”

You weren’t the first one to arrive outside the pediatric ICU, with Gen and your father already being there moments before you came. You were struggling to breathe by the time you reached them, feeling your heart race with a thunderous beat. “Gen… Dad, what h-happened to him?” You couldn’t stop the weakness in your voice. “Tell me he’s fine, please. Please. My baby. If anything h-happens to him, I’m g-gonna die, Gen! I c-can’t h-have that!”

Gen quickly enveloped you in a tight embrace, trying to offer any form of comfort she could. “I’m so sorry, Y/N. Dad and I are just as shocked.” She held you closer, her voice trembling as she, too, was just as anxious as you. “Sachi refused to eat and complained about having a hard time breathing. He was so pale and his lips were blue. We knew we had to rush him to the hospital immediately.”

“Oh my God.” Your hand flew to your mouth, trying to stifle the uncontrollable cries that were escaping. The news of Sachiro developing cyanosis shattered your heart, and the crushing reality that you weren’t there to take care of him tore you apart. “My baby, no. No, no. H-He—”

“Y/N!” 

Out of breath and also visibly shaken was the father of your son, Satoru, who came running to your side the moment his eyes landed on you. Behind him was his mother, clutching a rosary in her hand as both of them were seemingly shell-shocked in the same magnitude as you and your family were. Everyone cared for Sachiro’s well-being, everyone prayed for his safety, and the thought of losing an angel like your son was a soul-crushing thought that sent you slipping into a chasm of suffering.  

“Wh-What happened to Sachi?” Satoru asked in desperation, his question raised to everyone in the vicinity—you, your family, the nurses. But no one could give him a decent answer. “Please, tell me my son’s alright. Tell me.” 

You watched him walk in circles, raking his fingers through his hair as if he was seeking anything to hold onto. And you, feeling that magnet that pulled you closer to him, broke away from Gen’s embrace to look at your son’s father. “Satoru…” 

“Y/N,” his voice cracked as he met your gaze, “Our son.” He stopped, ready to wrap you in a hug—a moment of solace you both desperately needed in this critical time. But just as he pulled you close in a fragile attempt to find comfort together, the door to the ICU swung open, abruptly ending the brief respite.

All of you immediately rushed over to the doctor, the sterile white walls and the distant hum of hospital machinery did nothing to calm the turmoil inside you. 

“Doctor, how’s he?” 

“How’s my grandson, doc?”

“Doc, my son, is he okay?” 

“Is he stable, doc?” 

“Doctor, how’s my son, please?” you asked, your body growing tense to the point of shaking.

The doctor took a deep breath, his expression serious amidst the fusillade of questions thrown at him. “We’re currently running a series of tests on the patient. We suspect Sachiro may have congenital heart disease, specifically a ventricular septal defect with associated pulmonary hypertension.”

No, it can’t be. It’s not possible! The words hit you like a punch to the gut. You struggled to process the information, your vision blurring with tears and your heart drumming a rapid staccato inside. You didn’t need to look at everyone to know that they all, for a moment, looked at you. “Heart disease? But… how? I didn’t think—”

“Can you explain more, doc? Please.” Gojou was desperate, his bright blue eyes now dull and severely clouded with a brewing storm. It was as if he was keeping himself from crying.

The doctor continued gently, “VSD is a condition where there’s a hole in the heart’s ventricular septum. It can lead to pulmonary hypertension, which means the blood pressure in the lungs is elevated. It’s a serious condition, but we’re doing everything we can to assess the extent and provide the best treatment.”

“N-No, oh God. My baby.” You felt your knees go weak, and you sank down against the wall, with more tears cascading down your cheeks like waterfall. The weight of the diagnosis was crushing, but the hardest part was realizing that this was something you had unknowingly passed on to Sachiro. The heart disease was inherited from you and had now manifested in your beloved son.

It’s my fault. It’s my fault! 

The doctor placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder. “We’ll keep you updated as soon as we have more information. Please, try to stay calm, Y/N. It’s not best for your heart to panic right now. Sachiro is in good hands.”

You were unable to speak through the sobs that wracked your body. The hospital corridor felt endless, and you couldn’t shake the feeling of guilt and helplessness that consumed you. You could feel all eyes on you, judging, harboring hatred, carrying deep-rooted resentment. You were torn apart by the knowledge that the very thing you had feared most was now a reality for your son.

“It’s… It’s my fault,” you sobbed, covering your face with your quivering hands, “This is all my fault. I gave it to Sachiro, I… I’m a terrible mother!” 

Gen knelt beside you, her hands gripping your shoulders with a firm yet gentle touch. “Y/N, stop it. This is not your fault. You didn’t choose this for Sachiro.”

Your father, who had been pacing anxiously nearby, joined in. “Your sister’s right. You’re blaming yourself for something beyond your control. We’re all here for you. We’ll figure this out.”

But amidst your familial exchange, Satoru stood nearby, frozen and listless. His silence only added to the overwhelming distress. Was he also blaming you for what Sachiro was going through right now? Was he also angry at you for putting his son into this critical situation? 

Suddenly, a familiar voice cut through the commotion—voice that was equally harsh and spiteful. It was Satoru’s mother, boring her fiery eyes into your skull as she opened her mouth. “That’s right! You’re self-aware, aren’t you?” she spat and stood rigidly, arms crossed defensively over her chest. “This is all your fault. You’re such an irresponsible mother! You can’t even take care of my grandson properly, and now you’ve passed your disease onto him!”

You looked up in shock, seeing Satoru’s mother standing there with a disdainful expression. The sting of her words felt like a knife twisting in your heart, because they were true. They were painful, yes, but they were true. And all you could do was lower yourself until you were sitting on your haunches, trying to make yourself as small as possible. 

“Excuse me?!” Gen stood up, her eyes blazing with anger that came from the deepest pits of hell. “You’re unbelievable, Auntie. How dare you speak to my sister like that! You have no right to blame her for this. I hope to God it was you in the ICU right now instead of Sachiro!”

“You…!” 

Satoru’s mother raised a hand to slap Gen, but your father stepped forward, his face a mix of disbelief and indignation. “This is despicable. How can you stand here and say such things to someone who’s already suffering? Weren’t you friends with my wife once?”

Satoru, who had been standing still, suddenly moved with a menacing calm. His face was hard as stone, and his eyes narrowed in anger. What was scarier was him approaching his mother with a threatening stance. “Are you really this pathetic, mother?” Satoru questioned with a cold, cutting tone. “Do you get off on making Y/N suffer? Do you think you’ve gotten away with slapping her behind my back? You don’t get to blame Y/N for anything. Any fucking thing!”

His mother’s eyes widened in shock, but she tried to defend herself at the ruthless stance her son was carrying. All of you were stunned at the realization of how Satoru resembled his cruel father at that moment. “B-But Satoru, my son—”

“Shut up!” Satoru cut her off, his voice harsh and unforgiving, before he threw his cold knuckles against the hard surface of the concrete wall. “I don’t want to see your face ever again! Don’t consider yourself my mother any longer, you witch. You’ve lost that privilege.”

This took a wild turn, and hearing the brutality of Satoru’s words was like a thunderclap in the tense atmosphere. His mother’s face turned pale, her mouth opening and closing in shock as she struggled to respond.

“Get out of here,” Satoru commanded, his voice uncaring towards her. “Leave, and don’t ever come back. You’re nobody to me now.”

With that, Satoru’s mother turned and fled, stumbling down the corridor as if she was the victim in this situation. However, the tension in the air began to dissipate as soon as she left, leaving you, Satoru, Gen, and your father in a heavy silence. Only your sniffles could be heard. 

Even Gen, who was often hostile around your ex-husband, had remained quiet and composed after she watched him take such drastic measures to keep his mother away.

Everyone was silent. Pure, unbothered silence until Satoru’s phone began to buzz loudly, cutting through the stillness of the hallway. For a moment, he closed his eyes, then he fished his phone out of his pocket where you caught a glimpse of the caller ID. 

Akemi. 

——

The ICU only allowed short visits and one person at a time, so there was no need for everyone to stay the night. You were the parent, you were the one responsible for your son’s situation, so you insisted it was best for your dad and Gen to go home and get some rest. You didn’t mind watching over your son for the whole night, because coming home without him was the last thing you would do right now.

My precious angel.

Sachiro lay in the hospital bed, his small chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm. The doctors had managed to stabilize him for now, and the sight of his heart monitor showing a stable rhythm was a small comfort amidst the chaos.

Still, you sat by his bedside, mindful of your timed visit as your hands gently held his tiny ones, feeling the warmth of his small fingers. You glanced down at the medical report on your other hand, trying to make sense of the complex terms and figures.

The words blurred together as your tears fell silently onto the paper. “I’m sorry, baby.” He didn’t deserve this. He’s just a baby. “Mommy’s very sorry.”

You tried to stay strong, putting on a brave face for your son, but inside, you were falling apart. It was impossible not to blame yourself over this, wishing you could do more than just be present around him. This was the comeuppance of your own actions after you focused on your own emotions for the past few weeks to the point of neglecting your son’s wellbeing. If you had been more present in his life, if you had been more observant, you would have easily noticed the signs. Now, you allowed Satoru to find a flaw in your duty as a mother, and he could cite this very event as evidence to get full custody of him. That is, if he were to ever consider taking your son away from you. 

But in the first place, he should be the last person to do that, because where exactly was he now? 

Your thoughts kept drifting back to the earlier scene, where he excused to answer Akemi’s call, and later that night told you he had to leave and “check something” urgently. He promised he’d be back before midnight, but where was he? 

Resentment began to fester within you.

You had been very perceptive of Akemi’s feelings, apologetic in the way you supposedly betrayed her, but the fact that she was still scrambling for Satoru’s attention in the midst of your son’s hospitalization was something you could never forgive her for. 

And as for Sachiro’s father, how could he prioritize another woman when his own son was in such a critical state? The confusion of his actions was overwhelming. It felt like a cruel deja vu that, at a time when you needed him the most, he was choosing to be elsewhere. You could accept it if it was a choice between you and another woman, but between his son and her? His behavior was unacceptable, disgusting even, and it only served to deepen your grudge against him.

You clenched your fists, trying to push away the surge of anger that threatened to consume you after seeing that the disparity in his actions felt like both a betrayal and a slap to the face. Your poor son. You stared at Sachiro’s peaceful face and stroked his cheek. How could Satoru be so indifferent to his own flesh and blood?

The room was silent except for the soft beeping of the heart monitor and your quiet sobs. The situation was almost too much to bear, and your resentment towards Gojou grew heavier by the second. Each minute felt like a lifetime, and the emptiness left by his absence was a constant reminder that yet again he chose another woman over his own family.

It’s okay. You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. I won’t leave you, Sachi. For Sachiro’s sake, you needed to find the strength to carry on, to be the mother he needed in this moment of crisis and never again failing to be there for your only child. 

At exactly 10:30 pm, the nurse came in and told you visiting hours were over. You complied. 

At 11:00 pm, Ian paid you a quick visit and talked to the nurses, perhaps giving them reminders to look after you. 

At 12:00 am, you were alone again. Seated at one of the benches outside the ICU—sleepless, starving, and nauseous. 

At 2:00 am, you remained in your seat despite the sterile smell of antiseptic mingling with your own discomfort. The flickering fluorescent lights above did little to help you get some proper sleep. The cold air-conditioning alao made you shiver slightly, hugging your own body to try and give yourself some warmth. 

At 4:00 am, you awakened from the noise of the movements beside you. Realizing you had fallen asleep, you looked up and saw Satoru taking a seat to your left. His coat was draped over his arm, and he offered it to you.

“Are you cold?” he asked, his voice softer than usual, but you could see the bags under his eyes suggesting the sleepless nights he’d had for the past few days. “You can use my coat.”

You took the coat, but as you caught a whiff of it, a familiar scent of Akemi’s perfume lingered. Rose Prick by Tom Ford. It was a scent you’d come to recognize after your years of being her best friend, and it made your stomach turn slightly. Without any hesitation, you handed the coat back to him. “No, thank you. I’m fine,” you replied, avoiding his gaze. Looking into his eyes was the last thing you would do. 

And you knew Satoru was sighing, but didn’t press the issue. “The nurse mentioned you haven’t eaten today.” He pulled out a small bag of assorted fruits, placing it gently on the seat between you. You eyed the offerings, feeling a pang of hunger but also a strange aversion. “I bought some fruit. Is there anything you like?”

You took a deep breath and broke the silence with a hint of sarcasm. “You’re really good at this, huh?”

“At what?” was his immediate question, puzzled.

“Hitting two birds with one stone.”

“Y/N…”

“Stop trying to take care of me,” you interrupted, your tone sharper than intended. “ I don’t need it.”

“But—”

You swallowed the lump in your throat. “You can’t even be here for Sachi. You can’t even choose your son. He’s in a life and death situation and we’re still only receiving scraps of your attention.” It was the deep-seated grudge spilling out of you. “You’re so good at abandoning people, huh? Even though that’s what you hate the most. You’re so good at disappearing without even a text or call to check on me and our son. After that night at the cabin, you just…” you paused, realizing that you were opening too much of your heart to a man who didn’t deserve it. “Forget it. Just go home to Akemi. Live a happy life, build a family with her. Forget us. I don’t care. I’ll take care of Sachiro myself. I’ve done it for three years!”

“Y/N, I’m not trying to hurt you. I just…” Satoru fumbled for words, his somber blue eyes bearing the history of your shared heartbreak. It was as though the painful memories of your past were flooding his thoughts, seeking justification as to why he couldn’t pick you again this time. “I had to be there for her. She’s…”

You turned away before he could see your expression, because your heart was splintering at the thought of Satoru Gojou shattering it once more. As he always did. There seemed to be no end to this relentless heartbreak, as if any hope of a happy ever after with the man you loved would only return a pain that was a hundred times worse. Perhaps, this was destiny’s way of telling you that you and him weren’t meant to be. That any wishful thinking of being with Satoru again was only something that you could expect in another universe.

So, in your defense, you had to pull on a facade. A mask that you had to wear in the face of being the target of never-ending despair. “Satoru, I don’t want to talk about it,” you said firmly, concealing the raw ache in your voice with a smile. “And I don’t expect you to choose me every time. It’s okay. It’s happened before.”

“Can’t you see I’m hurting, too?” he asked, his voice breaking. Though you couldn’t see his face, the tremor in his voice revealed his struggle to hold back tears. 

You couldn’t understand why he would be hurting with his decision. When faced with two crossroads, he always seemed to pick the path that led away from you. So instead of trying to comprehend his pain, you decided it was time to honor your own. For your sake. For Sachiro’s. 

“Let’s just forget about that night,” you declared, wiping your eyes as you got up from your seat and prepared to walk away. “From this day forward, let’s pretend it never happened.”

——

Akemi’s apartment was dark when Satoru stepped inside. 

And to be honest, the darkness was a relief. At least, she wouldn’t be able to see the lassitude etched on his face, not just from juggling his time between his son and her, but from the constant ache of hurting the person he loved.

Miscommunication is a couple’s greatest enemy, and the persistent disconnect between you two, coupled with the reluctance to clear things up, had worn Satoru down. He wanted to end this—the feeling of helplessness and the torment of seeing the woman he cared for caught in a labyrinth of despair.

The hospital visits to Sachiro alone had been a whirlwind of emotions and responsibilities, and this brief visit to Akemi felt like an unwelcome detour, but one he couldn’t avoid. Satoru knew his heart wanted to stay in the hospital with you, to wait for any updates on his son, to hold your hand and care for you, yet here he was, dragging his feet across the carpeted floors to approach Akemi. 

“Hey.” She was sitting on the couch, looking frail but alert as if she had been desperately waiting on his arrival. She had recently started treatment for her stage 3 endometrial cancer, and Satoru could see the toll it was taking on her, physically and emotionally. He would be cruel to leave her hanging like this, to neglect her at her worst when she had been there by his side at his. Satoru had an unspoken accountability on her, because it wouldn’t be fair for him to just abandon her after she poured all her heart and soul into helping Gojou get back onto his own feet.  

“Hey, ‘Kemi,” he said, his tone soft but distant. “Did you take your meds today?”

Akemi looked up at him, her eyes tired and heavy. “I did. I took them just like the doctor said. How’s Sachiro?”

Gojou’s expression tightened. “He’s holding steady at the moment.”

A heavy silence settled between them before Akemi broke the tension. “I’m glad he’s stable,” she said, quietly. “Are you okay?”

He nodded once, his mind already drifting back to the hospital. “Yeah. Listen, I need to head back soon. Nanami and Miwa will be alternating in looking after you from now on. They’ll make sure you’re okay while I’m dealing with Sachiro. I have to focus on my son.”

Akemi’s frail hand reached out to gently grip his arm, the other held her lower abdomen in pain. “Satoru, please don’t go just yet. Can’t you stay a little longer?”

Now’s not the time to feel guilty. It was either her or Sachiro. Her or his son. Gojou decided to pull his arm away gently, his gaze distant. “Sachiro needs me, Akemi. You know that.”

Akemi’s face fell, but she knew it would be ridiculous to argue over that. “No, I understand. I get that. I want you to focus on Sachi, too. I just wish—” Before she could finish, her voice faltered, and she looked up at him with a hesitant gaze. “Satoru, do you regret that I took you back even if you cheated on me?”

The question caught him off guard, and Satoru’s blue eyes narrowed as he processed her words. He had been so focused on his responsibilities and the immediate crisis that he hadn’t given much thought to their ‘relationship’. All he knew was when he showed up at her doorstep back at the cabin, he was only going to try and end things with her. He was only going to clarify the longstanding feelings you and him poured out to each other that night, which was why he ended up sleeping with his ex-wife. But because Akemi suffered at the time, because her pelvic pain worsened to the point of an emergency, he had to hold back and just take care of her in the weeks that passed. He was caged in this situation like a prisoner who was found guilty for the crimes he had committed.

Just be honest, Satoru. Disregard everything else and just be honest. Satoru believed it was about time he stood his ground no matter the consequences. “You can’t take me back if we’re not together, ‘Kemi,” he breathed out those words, reticent on hurting her with the truth. If she would lash out on him, throw a vase on his head, slam a book on his face—he wouldn’t mind. He was ready to accept all the violence he deserved from being an asshole. “You knew from the start that this, us, was only temporary. It was never supposed to be serious.” 

Her expressions turned doleful. “Then, in that case, did you at least…” Tears welled up in her eyes as she she paused, “Did you at least love me?”

“I just… I never saw it that way, Akemi.” Satoru’s honesty would destroy her, but he didn’t want to keep on sending out false hopes. He had to be firm, and while he was grateful for everything she did for him, that doesn’t mean he owed her his life and loyalty. In the first place, he warned her that he wasn’t ready to be in a relationship. And God, he was far from ready to even settle down, yet Akemi constantly hinted at wanting to tie the knot with him. Again and again did she mention the thought of a wedding and a child and her own family. 

Satoru wanted all those things too, but with another person in mind. He was only set on having those things with one woman.

Akemi’s face paled upon hearing his answer and the fact that he didn’t even bother to explain himself. “I see. I guess I needed to hear that.”

Gojou looked at her with a mix of regret and sympathy. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry for hurting you like this, I really do.”

“It’s fine. Don’t worry about it.”

It definitely wasn’t fine, but Satoru had to take her word for it as he got out from the couch and gave her a gentle pat on the head. “I have to go. Nanami will be here soon. Please make sure to follow the treatment plan and take care of yourself.”

Akemi nodded, though her gaze remained fixed on the floor, unable to meet his eyes. “Alright. I’ll see him when he gets here.”

As Gojou turned to leave, he felt a pang of guilt twisting deep in his gut but pushed it aside. He was a father first before anything else. Sachiro would always be his first and foremost priority amongst everything else. 

——

After leaving Akemi’s place, Satoru was driving his car into the evening air beyond the speed limit. And his mind was racing together with him as he thought of you, your son, and the myriad of emotions he was struggling to manage. He couldn’t wait to be home, not literally at his own place, but anywhere with you and his son was his definition of home. 

It would be diabolical for him to run into your arms and yell, ‘I’m free! We can be together again!’ No, that would be cruel and disgusting. He respected Akemi just as he respected you. It was himself that he couldn’t respect, because he was the one responsible for the mess that he created. And adding Sachiro’s critical condition on top of the already festering wounds in your relationship? It truly was the manifestation of karma in his actions. 

His footsteps bounced through the hospital corridors the moment he arrived, each impatient step was ready to see your face and tell you he would never leave you and Sachiro now. But as he neared the pediatric ICU, his eyes darted around, the sight of his ex-wife was nowhere to be found. And instinctively, his heart pounded in his chest, and a drum of panic seemed to warn him of a storm that was about to come. Something was off, and it scared him. 

“Nurse,” he called out, his voice edged with urgency as he approached their station. “Where’s my wife? The boy’s mother?”

The nurse looked up, recognizing the infamous CEO’s face. “Uh, Mr. Gojou, she was heading to the rooftop, I think.”

“What?!” he unintentionally yelled at her face, “Why didn’t you guys keep an eye on her?” 

“Sir, calm down. She’s probably going to get some fresh air.”

A cold chill ran down his spine. You were definitely not there for that. 

Without another word, he sprinted towards the stairs, taking them two at a time instead of waiting at an elevator together with a group of people. He had to get to you as soon and as fast as he could without another second to waste. Although the climb felt endless, his mind racing with fear and dread was the push he needed to finally reach you. 

And upon bursting through the door to the rooftop, he was met with the soft whisper of the evening wind and the heart-stopping sight of you standing perilously close to the edge.

“Y/N!” he called out, his voice breaking with desperation. “Don’t do this. Please, step back.”

You stood motionless, eyes fixed on the distant horizon, the city lights blurring into a kaleidoscope of sorrow. “The world hates me, Satoru,” you whispered, the mellow tone of your voice carried away by the wind. “I’m a burden to everyone, even my own child. I-I just… I want to end it all.”

“No!” Satoru’s heart shattered at your words while he moved closer, his hands outstretched and careful not to startle or provoke you. He was dying to have you in his arms and keep you safe. “Y/N, please. Come back. What about Sachi? What about me? We need you. Sachiro needs you. I need you.”

What exactly made you go here? How did thoughts of ending yourself suddenly come into fruition? Was there something you discovered that brought you to this ultimatum? Gojou was desperate, utterly desperate, to hear what was running through your mind so that he could at least ease the burden that you were carrying all by yourself. He was once in the position where he wanted to commit too, and he knew the temptation that came with permanently escaping the cruelty of the world in just a single action. 

“Y/N, please. Please, I’m begging. Come to me,” he rattled on in a suffocating whisper, the pleading in his voice was heavy, “Please. I love you. Only you.”  

It was when you turned around that Gojou’s world collapsed, and the words you said after had shattered his entire universe. 

They were still. 

You. 

And the wind. 

“I’m pregnant,” you finally confessed, voice cracking as you looked at the faint tears that fell from Satoru’s eyes. “I don’t wanna have this baby.” 

[parfaitblogs]

daylight ❀ s. reid x reader

in which communicating with your boyfriend is scary, and spencer reid can't stand to see you cry.

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader genre: comfort/fluff! tags: reader avoids her issues... for a little bit. that's kind of it. it's just fluffy and simple! word count: 1.5k a/n: something short & sweet because i thought it was cute and i write the most when i'm procrastinating assignments... um… inspired by a conversation sam willow and i were having a few nights ago🫂 reminder that pretty girls cry when they’re confronting somebody!!

Spencer Reid was not oblivious to all things in the world. In fact, he was rather perceptive compared to most people. Psychology degree and human behaviour-based job aside, he noticed things. 

A lot of it was good. He knew exactly how to wake you up on mornings he started earlier than you. How to keep you half-asleep enough to allow you your return to sleep, but also awake enough to ensure you'd remember him kissing you goodbye (there had been an argument a few months ago about it — you thought he had left without a word). He knew your go-to Thai order from the restaurant down the street, and he knew which pair of wooden chopsticks your favourite were to pull out of his kitchen drawers. 

He was also observant enough to know something was wrong. 

He was back from a case. A long one, that had worn him down enough that he felt like a pile of creaking bones when he re-entered his apartment earlier that afternoon. You had returned from your own job an hour after that, and despite the initial excitement that came from your boyfriend being back in the state again, you were a bundle of nerves. 

And he knew that.

You were on his couch, legs across his lap and back up against the arm, his hands resting comfortable in the dip between your two knees. There was a quiet episode of New Girl playing on the television (you had convinced him to watch it after he had sat you through every Star Trek movie), but your thoughts were anywhere but the sitcom you had been using to entertain yourself as of recent. 

"You've been awfully quiet," Spencer said, piercing the less than comfortable air settled around you two. 

"Sorry," you answered, tearing your gaze from the screen to look at him, meeting a worried expression you had somewhat expected. 

Hands ran up and down your legs, erupting goosebumps along the skin. "Is something wrong?" 

"No," you immediately shook your head and forced a smile onto your face. "Nothing's wrong."

He furrowed his eyebrows, lips parting in that confused look he always had on his face when he was thinking, and he stared at you for a few seconds longer, before, "Yes there is."

Profilers. "Seriously, Spence. There isn't. I'm just kind of tired tonight."

"I am as well," he said, hands stilling on your legs rather abruptly. "I was in Idaho for a week. I'm also exhausted. And usually my girlfriend is a little touchier and more talkative than this when I come home. So I'm assuming something's wrong."

"You're assuming incorrectly, then," your shoulders shrugged.

He said your name chidingly, and it was at that tone of voice that you retracted your legs from his lap, instead tucking your feet beneath yourself, gaze dropping to the couch cushion. 

"I just missed you," you told him, a slight stretch of the truth. 

"I missed you too," he said, and your shoulders softened. "But that's not all it is."

You blinked, before you fell silent, shaking your head instead. 

"Talk to me. What's happened?" his voice was achingly soft, your heart shattering in your chest to the point you wanted to take back every thought you'd had over the past week and burn them to ashes. They didn't mean much now in front of him. Not when he was reminding you of how kind he was. 

"You barely talked to me," you said, hands dropping to your lap, and you fidgeted with them under his gaze. "I never knew what was going on. You didn't call once, except for when you landed."

"I was really busy, honey," he answered, and you could hear the frown in his voice. "If I had time to do anything other than the case and sleep, you know I'd have talked to you more." 

"I know," your voice shook, and you could feel your emotions overriding your brain. As usual. So, you kept your head down. "But I would've liked you to tell me that, at least."

You heard him sigh, and curiosity got the best of you as you lifted your gaze, inspecting to see if he was sighing out of irritation or not. He wasn't — just exhaustion — and that made you feel a little better.

"I know for next time then," he said, and he met your eyes, which had watered since the last time he looked at you. Which wasn't very long ago, and so he was drawing his eyebrows together, again, confusedly. "What's that? What's wrong?"

On instinct he leaned forwards, and you let him shift his body closer to yours, hands coming up on either side of your neck. You sniffled, trying to suck the tears threatening to fall back into your eye sockets. 

"I can't communicate," you mumbled, quietly, a tear escaping and dripping down to the lower half of your cheek. 

"You communicated pretty well just then, angel," he said, voice soft as he caught the remainder of the tear and swiped it away with his thumb. 

"Yeah but—but now I'm crying," you moaned, pathetically, more tears slipping down your face. His lips twitched — though not in humour, you noted — as he adjusted his hands to your jaw, thumbs continuing to wipe falling tears. 

"Yeah. That's okay," he answered. "You've got a flood of hormones going through you right now, and so your body reacts to it in the best way it sees fit. In your case, it's tears."

"I hate it," you mumbled, and this time he did laugh a little, nodding his head. 

"I know," he said. "Are you feeling embarrassed about communicating with me?"

"I guess," you replied. "I don't know. I think I just..." you trailed off as your voice disappeared, breath beginning to hyperventilate acutely. "I—I just feel kind of sil—silly."

You cursed each sob that broke up your speech, and yet his gaze and focus on you never once wavered. In fact, his touch seemingly had grown softer, and the concern in his eyes had only grown. 

"You aren't silly," he said, once he was sure you weren't going to continue speaking. "If me not talking to you for a week upset you, I'd say that's pretty reasonable."

"I don't know..."

"Want a secret?" he asked, fingers poking into your cheeks enough for you to crack a small smile. You only nodded your head in response, chest still jolting with each sharp intake of breath. "I have to physically restrain myself from calling you every hour on a normal day."

"You're lying," you mumbled, and his smile only widened, a bashful laugh leaving his lips. 

"No, honestly. I have so much I want to talk to you about during the day, and I need to remind myself that you're busy and at work too."

A few uncontrollable tears dripped down your face, and your gaze dropped to the top of his shirt, though the smile never left your face. "I don't believe you."

"I wish you would, but that's okay," he said, evidently seeing right through your defying statement — you believed him a little.

His forefinger and thumb caught your chin, and he tilted your head back up so his eyes could meet your glassy ones. 

"I'm sorry," you murmured, before he could get a word in.

"For what?"

"Crying."

"Do you take in anything I say to you?" he chastised, though the smile on his face eliminated any fear of him being genuinely irritated, and so your shoulders simply shrugged. 

"Sometimes," you said, and his eyebrows shot up. 

"Sometimes?" he repeated back to you, and you had to bite your lip to keep the amused expression off your face. He was smiling back at you, before his face settled into something more serious, as he continued, "I don't mind you crying, angel. It breaks my heart to see it, but I'm not sitting here and judging you for it. You know that, right?"

"Yeah."

"Good," he finalised with a short nod, and you sniffled with a nod of your own. 

"I mean, technically, crying is good," you said, tongue poking between your teeth as you forced back a smile. 

"Yeah? Why's that?" 

"Releases endorphins and oxytocin."

He huffed a single laugh through his nose, nodding his head. "Yes. It does."

"I know things," you grinned. 

"You do," he agreed with a nod. "My smart girl."

"Yeah. Don't ever forget it."

"I could never," he replied, and a comfortable silence enveloped your two bodies, your heart fluttering in your chest. 

"Can you tell me about Idaho?" you finally asked him.

"You really want to know?" 

You nodded your head, and he sighed, but complied regardless. And you eventually found your head in his lap, staring up at him as one hand danced gently over the skin of your slightly exposed stomach, the other entangled in your hair, brushing through it. 

And he told you about the case he had been away on — it became glaringly obvious behind why he hadn't called or messaged you at all — and consequently eased any other remaining worries behind it.

And it dried your tears up.

your reblogs and replies are always appreciated ♡

[sweetrainbowcandy]

part 2 to my logan x chubby!reader fic which you can find here <3

a/n: I'm sorry this took so long! i've been really busy recently getting ready to move into uni, so my minds been on other things :( this was super fun to write, tho!

tags: 18+, MDNI, smut, chubby!reader, worst wolverine!logan, wade and logan are neighbors with reader, age gap, some angst (maybe?), logan gets jealous, daddy kink, logan makes you squirt

wc: ~4k

“So, Peanut, you gonna tell me about your rendezvous with little-miss-gumdrop across the hall?”

Logan pauses, setting down the weight he was curling and slowly turning to look at Wade. It had been a day since Logan went over to help fix your sink, and unfortunately his self proclaimed ‘wingman’ had been giving him an overly knowing look ever since.

“Nothin’ to tell,” he turns back around, his bicep flexing as he curls the weight, “Fixed her sink ‘n left.”

“Thats it?” Wade asked, taken aback, “You didn’t even hit her with the ol, ‘How bout you let me get up in your pipes next, bub?’” Wade’s voice drops to a deep rumble as he imitates Logan, and he drops the weight with a thud,

“Do you ever shut your damn trap?” Logan snaps, whipping around and shoving a finger at Wade’s chest. Wade gasps in mock offense, daintily slapping away Logan’s hand and placing the back of his hand over his forehead,

“I knew it, you are seeing her!” He says, forcing out a choked sob, “And I thought what we had was special, honey badger!” Logan rolls his eyes, walking over to the door and slipping on his jacket, boots brushing against the doormat.

“I’m going for a smoke,” he growls, grabbing a cigar out of the container on the stand next to the door, feeling around for the zippo in his pocket.

“Oh yeah, storm out the second you know you’re in the wrong!” Wade calls, holding up Mary Puppins and hugging her to his chest, “At least remember to pay child support!” Wade manages to shove in before the door shuts behind Logan. He ran a hand down his face and shook his head. Wade was insufferable, but he was a good guy. Sometimes.

“Oh, Logan!” Your voice snapped him out of his thoughts, blinking as he turned to face you. You were just stepping out of your apartment, hair and makeup done immaculately, adorned in a skimpy silk dress that showed off each delectably pudgy curve. You smiled up at him shyly, fidgeting with the strap of your purse slung over your shoulder.

Fuck.

Logan gulped, his fists clenching in the pockets of his leather jacket, “Hey,” he greets with a nod, quickly looking you up and down before clearing his throat and nodding to your outfit, “You, uh,” he pauses, his mouth feeling dry, “You goin’ out?”

You giggled softly, nodding and reaching down to tug at the scandalously short hem of your dress. Shit, what Logan wouldn’t give to tear through it with his claws, leave it in shreds on the floor and take you right here in the hall for everyone to hear—

“Yeah! I’ve, uhm, just got a little date to go to,” you said, struggling to keep eye contact with the large, intimidating man.

A what?

Logan felt hot anger flare up inside of him, his jaw clenching as his brow furrowed, “A date?” He growls, his voice sounding more predatory then he intended. Your eyelashes fluttered against your chubby cheeks in confusion, a bit surprised by his reaction.

“Y-Yeah, a date,” you stammer, shrinking a bit in on yourself. You couldn’t read his expression beyond the frustration, and a small part of you wondered if he was… jealous. But that wouldn’t make sense, right? You barely knew each other!

But Logan was irrationally upset, and he wasn’t known for his self soothing. What the fuck did some chump have that he couldn’t give you? He bet it was some geeky dude who weighed less than one-fifty with twig arms and a pimple-scarred face. Some fucking dweeb who didn’t know how to handle a woman like you.

But Logan didn’t have any claim over you. Just because he fixed your sink didn’t give him the right to be possessive. He was just acting like an animal again.

“…That’s… nice,” Logan grunts, turning towards the stairs, shooting you another look over his shoulder and nodding, “Good luck. Make sure he treats you right,” he says, before retreating down the stairs. He was oblivious to the way that you watched him leave, the way you gulped and looked down at your feet as you considered following him. But you didn’t. You took a deep breath and turned to head down the opposite stairwell. You had a date to meet.

It was later when the door to Logan and Wade’s apartment slammed shut, Logan’s leather jacket meeting the floor as he stormed into the kitchen.

“Woah there, Koolaid Man! Come through the fucking wall next time, why don’t you?” Wade calls from the living room, his words muffled by the sandwich he was macking on.

“Shut your fucking trap,” Logan snaps, rifling through the fridge before pulling out a beer, unsheathing his claws and using one to pop off the cap. Wade raises his free hand in self defense,

“Jesus Christ, did your cigar finally bite back? What the hell crawled up your tight bubble butt and died? Because I’ll tell you, whatever it was, I’m jealous,” Wade says, pointing to Logan before taking another bite of his sandwich.

Logan tilted back the beer, his throat bobbing with each gulp. He heard Wade whistle as he watched him down the whole bottle before throwing it to the ground and reaching to grab another, not even bothering with the shattered glass. His jaw clenched as he struggled to open the next bottle, before he let out a snarl and hit the cap off of the edge of the counter, causing it to fly off. His hand shook as he threw back the next beer.

Wade watched with a raised eyebrow, lowering the sandwich to where Mary Puppins was sitting next to him on the floor, her little nose twitching as she sniffed at it before awkwardly shoving it in her mouth, “…Did you run into gumdrop?” Wade asks, taking a shot in the dark why his roommate would be so pissed.

Logan braced his hands against the counter, shoulder’s rising and falling with each ragged breath. Before he knew what he was doing, he lowered his head and nodded, “Yeah,” he says, swallowing before speaking up again, his voice a deep rumble that barely reached Wade’s ears, “She said she had a date.”

Wade’s nonexistent eyebrows raised, and for once, he was quiet for a second. He thought about Vanessa, how he’d felt when she said she started seeing a guy from work. Sure, him and Vanessa had known each other for much longer than Logan had known you, but Wade knew how strongly Logan felt emotions.

Wade snaps his fingers and lets out an ‘ah-hah!’, moving to stand up and walk into the kitchen, “I’ve got it— you find the guy, challenge him to a gladiator-style naked mud wrestling match, invite her to watch, spear him from his tip to his gooch, then rip out his testicles and feed them to her like grapes. See the way you won her over? Very mindful, very demure.”

Logan’s brow just furrows, and he shoots Wade a frustrated and confused look, “Jesus Christ, you little shit, could you not run your mouth for one second?” He says through clenched teeth, turning to throw back more of his drink as Wade just shrugs,

“Okay, honey-b, I’m just trying to help,” he says, turning to walk back to the living room, “But if you wanna be the pussy who’s standing here drinking his frustrations away instead of confessing to the girl he’s obviously interested before she’s taken away, be my guest,” Wade says as he gestures dismissively at him.

Logan paused, moving to place his beer back on the counter with a click. As much as he hated to admit it, Wade had a point. What kind of pathetic loser just sat and drank his jealousy and sadness away instead of proving himself to her that he was better?

Wade flinched as he heard the sound of another bottle breaking against the floor, sitting up and watching as Logan stormed towards the door, “Fuck, another one? You’re cleaning this up when you get back, young man!” Wade calls as Logan tugs on his jacket before opening the door, slamming it behind him. Wade sighs, leaning back into the couch, “Go get ‘em, peanut.”

Logan’s at your door in a second. His large fist slamming against the heavy wood a good four—five times before he steps back, silently cursing that he didn’t check his appearance before he stepped out of the apartment.

Shit, what was he doing? You were too young and sweet for him, too much of a little angel to want anything to do with some old jaded fuck like him. He should just turn around, go back and have Wade rub it in his face how—

“Logan?”

And there it was again, you catching him off-guard by calling his name. You stood there, dressed in just a nightgown with your hair down around your shoulders, and fuck, you smelt good. It must be that same vanilla body butter he smelt when he was last this close to you. It was only now Logan realized how fucking late it was.

“Sorry, I—“ he began, cutting himself off and gulping, “…I can come back later if it’s too late,” he says, his voice deep and uncharacteristically soft. To his surprise, you smile, shaking your head and gesturing inside after stepping back.

“Not at all,” you say as you shut the door behind him. The lights in your apartment are dim, and Logan tries not to think about how fucking intimate it is, how too big and lumbering he feels in your space. “So what’s up?”

Logan blinks, snapping himself out of his thoughts as he realizes he didn’t just come into your apartment to awkwardly stand around. Shit, he didn’t prepare for this part.

“…How’s your sink?”

You’re both quiet before you let out a snort, round cheeks tinting as you giggle, placing a hand over your mouth. Logan feels a rare but hot flush of selfconsciousness spread down his neck, looking off to the side and nervously shifting his weight between his feet,

“I-I’m sorry,” you stammer between giggles, shaking your head and sighing, “I just— you looked so serious, I thought something was wrong,” you say as you pad over to your fridge, pulling it open and taking out a water bottle, “Drink?”

“…’M alright,” Logan watches as you nod, uncapping it and tilting it back to take a sip. He watches how your throat bobs with each gulp, his cock twitching in his jeans. Shit, he wasn’t ready for this. But he didn’t have a choice— he had to.

You place the bottle down on the sink, smiling as you recap it, “It’s working just fine thanks to you,” you say softly, your voice barely above a whisper. Logan nods, feigning a leisurely look around to try and come off as more casual.

“How was your date?” Logan asks after a second, and you pause, your smile faltering. Logan feels himself begin to panic— shit, was he crossing a line? His lips part, no words coming out for a minute before he chokes out, “If you don’t wanna talk about it-“

“No, no,” you cut him off gently, forcing a small smile as you cross your soft arms under your chest, almost hugging yourself. You just shook your head, sighing before speaking, “He just… we didn’t really get along.”

Logan felt bad for the fireworks that went off inside of him, quickly shoving down the celebratory thoughts and clearing his throat, nodding apologetically, “‘M sorry to hear that,” he says, tucking his hands into his jacket pockets.

You shake your head, forcing a soft laugh, “It’s alright, can’t expect every guy to have what I’m looking for, you know?” You say, which catches Logan’s attention. You watch the muscles in his jaw shift,

“…And what are you looking for?” He asks, taking a step forward, and you feel the energy between you shift. Your breath catches, and your hand comes up to rest against your chest,

“Uhm,” you stammer out softly, biting your bottom lip. Fuck, it drives Logan insane. Wanting to replace your teeth with his, tug that lip between his teeth while he envelopes your mouth with his, “Someone… reliable,” you begin, watching as he steps closer to you. Your breath catches, but you force yourself to keep talking even as your voice began to wobble, “strong…” you blink up at him, long lashes fluttering against your cheeks, “…older.”

Logan sucks in a sharp breath, the both of you practically standing toe-to-toe now. You have to crane your neck to look up at him, his hand raising to gently cradle your face. You shakily exhale as his thumb runs over your bottom lip, and you can’t stop yourself as your tongue pokes out to coax the finger into your mouth.

“Fuck,” Logan growls, letting you suck on his thumb before he presses and slides it against your tongue, “You need someone to take care of you, ain’t that right, doll?” You whimper around his thumb, and he softly clicks his tongue, “You gotta ask me properly, bub.”

You pull your lips off his thumb with a soft ‘pop’, slightly panting as your glazed over eyes lock with his fiercer ones, “Please take care of me, Logan,” you plead, your voice a breathy whine. Logan’s gaze darkens,

“I will, pretty girl,” his knuckles caress the side of your face, his other hand moving to splay out on your lower back, “Let me give you what these little boys can’t.”

He leans in, and before you know it, his rough lips are on yours. He immediately groans at the feeling of just how soft your lips are, evidently just like the rest of you. His hand moves from your face to tangle in the hair at the base of your scalp, tugging slightly and causing you to whimper. The sound just makes his cock twitch, his inhibitions already escaping him.

He curses against your lips, pushing you back against the counter, tongue probing into your mouth and dancing with your own. The wet, slick noises of your mouths moving against each other echo in the kitchen of your apartment, complimented by his feral growls and your whimpers. He pulls back, his lip pulled back slightly in a snarl,

“I’m gonna treat you right, doll,” he says as his hands trail down to grope at your fat ass over your nightgown, causing you to gasp and whine softly, arching back into his touch,

“Logan,” you whimper needily, looking back up at him and squirming in his hold. He curses, reaching down to pick you up, your eyes widening, “Wait, Logan, I’m too—!“ you cut yourself off with a gasp as he effortlessly lifts you, walking over to the couch in your living room and laying you down on it.

“Shut up,” he growls as he leans back down to connect your lips again, his big, rough hands sliding down your body as your back lifts off the cushions below you. He pulls back, shifting to lean his weight onto one arm as the other goes lower until he’s hiking up the skirt of your nightgown, causing you to gasp.

“Can fuckin’ smell you,” he says against your ear, his tongue poking out to lick his lips, “Cunt’s all nice and wet for me, huh?” You nod eagerly, spreading your chubby thighs and hearing Logan groan at the sight of the wet spot spreading on your lacy panties. He sits back on his haunches, reaching down to grab the crotch of your panties and tearing them, the fabric ripping like tissue paper under his grip. You gasp, watching him discard them off the side of the couch.

“Perfect fuckin’ pussy,” his hands lower, gaze hungry and dark as his thumbs part your lips. Your stuttered breaths cause your tits to jiggle, and Logan pulls his hands away from your cunt to grab the neckline of your nightgown. He tugs it down, tucking it under your tits which spill out into the cool air of your apartment.

You yelp and whimper as he slaps and gropes one, his other hand returning to your cunt. He looks down and groans as his thumb finds the hood of your clit, pulling it back over the little nub and smirking, “There she is,” he whispers, “Don’t even need to spit or anything, huh? Pussy’s already so fuckin’ messy,” he says as he begins to roll his thumb in tight circles over your clit.

You let out a cry as your hips buck into his hand, his bigger one shooting down from your breast to pin down your chubby stomach and keep you from moving, “Take it,” he snarls, and you can do nothing but kick your trembling legs and whimper as you claw at his arm, tears welling in your eyes. He shifts his weight, sliding his fingers down before slipping two of them inside of you.

He covers your mouth with his as you squeal, swallowing your cries and moans as he begins to jerk his thick, rough, long fingers up and down against the anterior walls of your pussy, hammering right up against that sensitive, spongy spot inside you. Your vision begins to go hazy, drool spilling out from between your lips and down your chin as you whimper. Your thighs quiver and he pulls back, lips pressed right up against your ear,

“Come on, bub, know you wanna cum real nice all over my fuckin’ hand,” he whispers, nipping your earlobe and secretly praying that your neighbors can hear the wavering cries escaping from your glistening lips as he pummels your pussy with his fingers. You sob, choking out his name, and before you know it you’re squirting and spraying all over his hand. He groans, “That’s it, just like that,” he coaxes, fingering you through it until you’re laid back and gasping for air like it’s a commodity.

He sits up, lifting your plump legs over his hips as he reaches to slide your nightgown up and off your body, dropping it carelessly next to your torn panties on the floor. He finds his hands softly running down your plump body, admiring that glazed over and drunken look in your eyes. He leans down, pressing a surprisingly soft kiss against your cheek,

“This alright?” He asks, and you can feel the bass of his voice against your chest as yours and his pressed together. Your cheeks warm up at the sentiment, that he still cared to check in despite the heat of the moment. You nod, reaching up to softly run your fingers through his hair,

“Yeah,” you whisper, not realizing just how whiny and high-pitched your voice had gotten, “Please,” your hands trail down from his hair to gently claw down his back, legs locking behind his hips. He grunts, hovering over you and reaching down to unbuckle his belt, sliding it off and barely registering it clattering against the floor.

“Say it again, baby,” he growls as he shucks off his jacket and tank top, his chest glistening with sweat. You watched as he reached to unbutton and tug down his jeans, reaching down and fishing his cock out of his boxers. You gasp at the sheer size and thickness of it, not to mention his heavy, fat balls that hung below it. He must have been pent up.

“Please,” you repeat, this time more desperately. Your hand reaches down shakily for his cock, breath speeding up as he doesn’t move to stop you. Your soft fingers wrap around him and he groans, bucking into your touch, “Shit,” you curse, “your cock is so fucking big.”

“Yeah?” He asks, and you can hear the subtle cocky smirk in his voice, “Bigger than whatever asshole you went on a date with, I bet.” And there it was, the admission of jealousy.

But you can only nod eagerly, fingers tracing the veins running along his length, “Yes,” you whimper as you angle his cock down towards your pussy, shivering and biting your lip as he takes himself in his own hand and slides the tip through your puffy, fat pussy lips, “Please, daddy?”

Holy shit.

Logan didn’t even know what came over him. One second he was grinding his cock through your slit, then you called him that, and now he was thrusting balls deep into your cunt. You practically screamed, crying out and clawing at his arms as his split you open, legs quivering around his hips as he thrust into you like a man possessed.

“Say it again,” Logan demanded, his voice hot against your ear as he reached down, grabbing you by the rolls of your stomach for leverage as he pounded your cunt, his heavy balls slapping against your ass.

“Daddy!” You cried out again, moaning through your sobs as hot tears streamed down your pudgy cheeks. You mewled as Logan leaned down to lick them up, his lips reconnecting with yours as the sound of your kissing and the couch thumping against the floor echoed around the both of you.

His forehead pressed against yours, the two of you looking into each others eyes as you struggled to keep yours on him, “Keep those eyes on daddy, baby,” he grunts, reaching around to lift your hips and fuck you back into his thrusts, causing you to fight the urge to throw your head back in pleasure.

“I-It’s too much, daddy!” You whimpered through your cries, sniffling and hiccuping as your body jerked up and down the couch. Logan shifted so he was sitting back against it, maneuvering you onto his lap and reaching down under your thighs so he was holding you before beginning to buck up into you. You squealed, hitting at his chest with your fists softly as you sobbed, the pounding too much for you to handle. His hand flew down once again to find your clit, thumb flicking roughly over it.

“You can take it, bub,” He reassures, watching as your face warps as your orgasm begins to wash over you. You begin to babble nonsense, and he wraps his arms around you and holds you close to his chest as he increases his speed, feeling your cunt flutter around his cock. It’s not long before you’re cumming all over his lap, crying out his name as you claw down his shoulders. He follows not far behind you, leaning in to bite down hard on your shoulder before releasing inside of you.

He pulls back, the both of you panting as you try to catch your breaths. You let out a tired giggle, resting your forehead against his shoulder, his hands running slowly up and down your back,

“And to think I was gonna break my sink again to get you to come over,” You slur tiredly against him, causing him to freeze. You broke your sink the first time on purpose? He sighs, shaking his head and holding back a soft chuckle,

“Brat.”

[heart-of-the-morningstar]

Alr hear me out, the service top lucifer with a very insecure reading. (Fem or GN) like he has to coax the reader to like open up (God damn I'm blushing thinking abt it-). Maybe even having to like talk them into even taking thier clothes off. Just a little idea stuck in my head.

Thank you very muchly.

Ooooooohh you’re giving me IDEAS (tbh I’d be the same boat)

~~~~

✨Opening Up✨

Lucifer x f!reader

Warnings: 18+, smut, nipple play, pet names, oral (m & f receiving), p in v, service top!Lucifer

It has become evident that I am unable to write anything concise 😅

I’M SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG I MEANT TO POST THIS DAYS AGO 😭😭

Tag list: @trashbin-nie

@yellowsubiesdance

@j-jinxee

@stevensdickrider

@airwolf92

@mrssabinecallas

@myhornybrainonlyknowsthis

@bee-sinner

@thesoccerenthusiast

@katshyperfixations

@logybearsblog

@bigfatbimbo

You sat upright on Lucifer’s king sized bed, the King of Hell straddling your lap. You don't know how you even ended up in this position, not on this bed necessarily, but how you ended up as Lucifer's beloved. You believed in your heart that you did not deserve him, but time and time again Lucifer has showered you with praise and adoration like no one ever had before. He was perfect. And you were...you. It didn't make sense.

Regardless, that didn't stop him from holding your face tenderly in his hands while he kissed you with a fiery passion. You were self conscious about being so vocal around him during intimacy, but he made it his mission to elicit as many moans and whines from you as possible. Slowly, he reached down to the hem of your sleep shirt, grabbing a fistful of fabric. Your eyes popped open, your mind racing. You pulled away from his lips and went to grab his wrist that held your clothing.

"I-I'm sorry, love," he apologized, releasing your shirt immediately. You sighed and let go of the grip you had on his hand. "I didn't mean to scare you, I should have asked. Please forgive me."

"No, no," you breathed, "it's alright. I'm not upset, I just panicked. I'm sorry."

Lucifer pressed his lips to your forehead and planted a small kiss. "Please don't ever think you need to apologize to me for how you feel, sweetheart."

"O-Ok," you stuttered.

"Do you want to stop?," Lucifer asked. You could hear the genuine concern in his voice. Hard as it was to believe, he cared about you more than anything.

You shook your head. "No."

"You're sure?," Lucifer questioned further, "because if you're uncomfortable, we can-"

You cut him of mid-sentence with a quick peck to his lips. He smiled bashfully, a cute blush spreading across his face. "Believe me, Luci, I want this. I mean I really want this, but..." you found it difficult to articulate what you wanted to say.

"Well, if that's the case darling, what if I go first then?," Lucifer proposed. You cocked your head, unsure of what he was talking about. He reached up and began to unbutton his shirt, starting from the top and working his way down. Oh...OH.

Your face instantly feels hotter and your breathing becomes staggered. You tried to say something, but the words caught in your throat. Your mouth had never felt drier. He finally reached the last button of his shirt and you finally see some of his chest. You could almost feel your brain short circuiting.

"Do you wanna do the honors, my dear?," he asked playfully. You gulped as your hands reached towards his shoulders. Gingerly, you slid his sleeves down each arm, slowly revealing more and more skin to you. Once his shirt was completely removed, you couldn’t help but stare. His chest was so smooth and toned, almost like it had been sculpted. “Like what you see?” Lucifer questioned coyly, noticing your unwavering expression of awe.

"W-Well that's hardly fair," you whispered, finally finding your voice, "you're an actual angel. Of course you're going to be gorgeous, I-" you slapped your hand over your mouth once you realized what you had said. "Please pretend you didn't hear that!," you begged through your hand.

Lucifer's face was flushed pink, he could help but smile. He chuckled as he went to remove your hand from your face. "Is that what you really think about me, sweetheart? I'm truly flattered to hear that coming from someone as exquisite as you."

"You...You really think..." you started to say but couldn't finish. Tears began to well up in your eyes, you tried to rub them away before Lucifer could see but it was too late. Lucifer cupped your face and ran his thumbs under your eyes to clear away the tears that had fallen. Your breath hitched, you tried to take in deep heavy breaths so you wouldn't start sobbing.

“Hey, hey, hey, shhhhh,” he spoke with a soothing tone. He removed himself from your lap and sat down next to you, embracing you in his arms. “It’s okay, angel, it’s ok. I upset you and I’m sorry, I never want to be the reason you cry.” He rested his head on top of yours while you clung to his chest. The scent of him hit your nostrils, it was like breathing in a warm spring day. Purely intoxicating. It calmed you down, you started to breathe normally again. You felt safe in his arms, you could have stayed there for the rest of your life.

You wrapped your arms around his torso, your tears finally drying. “Thank you, Lucifer,” you murmured. He gave you a tight squeeze before you lifted yourself back up, sitting at his hip and leaving your head on his shoulder. “You weren’t the reason I was sad, you know? You never have been.”

Lucifer turned his head to you, “Really? Then why-?”

“Because I’m afraid,” you quickly responded. “I’m afraid that I’m not good enough for you. That I never will be. You’re the all mighty Lucifer, King of Hell. You have so much strength and power and respect. And I’m…I’m just me.” You sighed and pulled your legs up to your chest to rest your head on your knees. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have-”

“Darling?,” Lucifer spoke at last. He brought himself in front of you on all fours and placed his hand under your chin, forcing you to look at him in his scarlet eyes. “ “Just you” is perfect. You don’t need to be anything but yourself! I understand what you’re feeling, and it’s okay to express that. But please know that I love you just the way you are. You are my true strength.”

You chuckled softly, leaning into his hand that was now pressed against your cheek. You took his words to heart; he loved you. He loved you so much. You had to show him that you felt the same way. You drew in a few quick and deep breaths before reaching for the hem of your sleep shirt.

“Wait, wait, what are you-” Lucifer tried to say, but you were too fast. Your shirt disappeared from your body and was tossed across the room. Silence filled the space, the only thing you could hear was your heart threatening to burst through your chest.

It was at that moment you noticed you couldn’t see Lucifer’s face. His hands had flown up to block his view of you.

“Lucifer?” you called to him.

“Y-You didn’t have to do that, love,” he stuttered. “I never wanted you to feel that you had to-”

“Please look at me, Luci,” you pleaded. “I love you. And I trust you. Let me show you. Please.”

You saw Lucifer’s hands slowly fall away from his hands, his eyes still screwed shut. “Are you sure?” he asked softly.

You leaned in to plant a kiss on his soft lip. Lucifer’s eyes shot open in surprise, you pulled away before he had a chance to react. Blood rushed to your cheeks when you saw him staring at you. Your first instinct was to cover yourself and shy away, but you pushed those feelings deep down. You were going to be vulnerable, you needed to be brave. Not just for him, but for yourself. You gripped the bed sheets so hard that you felt your nails digging into your skin through the silk.

After what seemed like an eternity, Lucifer had snapped out of his trance. He started to crawl towards you on his hands and knees, only stopping when his lips were inches away from your own. You felt his hot breath on you, you were finding it more and more difficult to keep your composure.

“You…are breathtaking,” he cooed, crashing his lips into yours hungrily. His tongue begged for entrance to your mouth, and you happily allowed it. You felt yourself slowly drifting down onto your back as you and Lucifer desperately devoured each other. He pulled away from your lips, trying to catch his breath, but you noticed he wasn’t looking into your eyes. His attention had drifted a little further down. He swallowed hard.

“May I?,” Lucifer asked breathlessly. Your face felt extremely hot and you couldn’t find the power to speak, so instead you nodded your head vigorously. He gave you a cheeky grin before lowering his mouth down onto one of your nipples. The noise you made sounded more high pitched than you meant it, but God, did it feel amazing! His tongue worked one nipple as his hand played with the other. You loved the sensation of him sucking and licking at your sensitive skin, the tiny bites from his teeth driving you insane. He rolled your other nipple between his two fingers, the pinches he gave sent your brain into overdrive. You never knew how sensitive you were, but Lucifer was more than happy to service you.

All of a sudden you noticed a different sensation, you felt something press against your inner thigh, dangerously close to your clothed pussy. It took your brain a few seconds to realize what was happening.

“Uhh, Lucifer, a-are you…”, you mumbled. Lucifer looked up from your chest with a puzzled face. “I can feel umm, I-I can feel your uhh…”, you didn’t know why you couldn’t say it. Maybe you were too embarrassed, which seemed silly considering what position you found yourself in. You pointed down towards your pants where Lucifer was wedged.

“Oh…OH,” Lucifer exclaimed pushing himself from you and onto his knees. “Oh my gosh, I-I’m so sorry! I didn’t realize you could uhh, feel that…please forgive me!”

Seeing him so flustered somehow calmed some of the nerves you had before. It was cute, really. Demon overlord Lucifer getting embarrassed about unintentionally pushing his hard on against your thigh. You let out a small giggle.

"It's alright, Luci," you chuckled. "I'm flattered, really!"

Lucifer smiled, placing his hand behind him to rub the back of his neck. "I'm still sorry about that, love. I'm a little embarrassed."

“Well,” you breathed, “I guess it’s only fair that I embarrass myself too then, right?” Without warning, you grabbed the waistband of your pants and ripped them off along with your panties in one fell swoop. You laid naked in front of Lucifer, whose whole face had turned a shade of red you’ve never seen before.

“Ffffuck,” was all Lucifer could muster. You watched his Adam’s apple rise and fall, attempting to regain his thoughts. Looking at you, it was plain to see how soaked you were.

“Like what you see?,” you teased. Lucifer nodded his head eagerly, still at a loss for words. You lifted your hand and curled your finger, beckoning him to you. Obediently, Lucifer crawled on the bed towards you with no reservations. “You’re not the only one that’s worked up here. Now we’re even.”

“My love, please…” Lucifer whined, “please let me taste you.”

"Don't you...wanna get more comfortable first?," you asked him, knowing the problem in his pants had probably only gotten worse for him.

"Not until I've had my fill of you, sweetheart," he smiled before forcing his head between your legs. The moan you let out was guttural, almost feral, he lapped your folds like a starving man. He took long, drawn out licks up your slit before focusing on your clit. His lips kissed and sucked on your sensitive nub, sending waves of pleasure throughout you entire body. You couldn't pull away if you tried, he had wrapped his arms under your legs so you couldn't escape his assault on your cunt.

"Sh-shit, oh-oh my God Lucifer, FUCK," you moaned. You could feel a smile form on his face as this seemed to have made him pick up the pace. You screamed from his tongue darting in and out of you, feeling so close to snapping. Your thighs started to fold in on his head and you grabbed a fistful of his hair trying to regain some assemblance of control. “Fuckfuckfuck, mmmm…gonna c-cum, aaggghh, gonnacumgonnacum!” Lucifer’s tongue relentlessly circling your clit finally caused your body to spasm, your orgasm causing you to scream out in pleasure. Lucifer didn’t stop though, he let you ride out your orgasm and hungrily devoured your release. Once you finally came down from your high, Lucifer lifted his face from between your legs and flashed you a toothy grin, seemingly quite proud of his work.

“You alright, darling?,” he asked innocently, almost pretending like he wasn’t the cause of what you had just experienced.

“Y-yeah, I’m…I’m fine,” you breathed. “Just…Jesus, that was intense! Give me a little warning before you go all in on me like that again!”

Lucifer laughed. “I’m sorry, love, I couldn’t help myself.”

You rolled your eyes at him playfully. “Oh, I’m sure you couldn’t. Now, let’s get these off you, hmm?,” you said tugging at his pants.

Lucifer stood up from the bed quickly. He undid his belt and let his pants drop to the floor. From the outlines of his briefs, you were surprised that they could contain him at all. Before he could pull at the hem, you jumped off the bed to stop him.

“Allow me,” you offered, getting on your knees in front of him. You reached up and grabbed onto his briefs, snaking them down his legs. His cock sprang free of its cage and hung in front of your face, its tip already leaking. Without thinking, your wrapped your lips around the head of his cock. Lucifer let out a moan that you’ve never heard before, filled with absolute lust and need. You took one of your hands and grabbed the base of his shaft, slowly stroking up and down while your mouth continued to work on his head. You ran small licks against the slit, tasting and lapping all of the precum that was forming. You loved the taste of him.

“Love…f-fuck,” Lucifer panted, trying to fight through his moans, “if you don’t s-stop now, I-I’m gonna cum. I wanna…wanna feel you. P-Please…”

Reluctantly, you pulled your mouth away from his cock with a *pop*, pouting slightly. Lucifer leaned down to grab your torso and tossed you onto the bed like you were made of paper mache. That angelic strength of his always caught you off guard. Lucifer crept between your legs, planting a tender kiss on your lips.

“I promise,” he whispered against your lips, “next time you can finish what you started, but right now I need you. Need to feel you.” Lucifer brought his fingers to your needy cunt, feeling the slickness of your folds. Your breath caught in your throat at the sensation. He took his other hand and lined up the tip of his cock to your entrance. “Are you ready, my angel?,” he asked softly.

You grinned and nodded your head. With that, Lucifer closed the space between you once more with a fiery kiss as his cock entered you inch by inch. Your cries mixed with his as he finally entered you completely.

“You feel…amazing, darling, fuck…” Lucifer choked out. “Are you okay?”

“Yes,” you murmured, “I-I’m okay. You can move.”

“Anything for you,” he smiled. Lucifer slowly began to rock his hips into you, his cock filling you up completely with each thrust. You could feel every inch of him ruining your pussy, hitting just the right spot every time. It didn’t take long for his pace to become erratic and uneven. He buried his cock deep inside you, both of your moans filling the room.

“Lu-Lucifer, o-oh shit, Lucifer, I-I’m so close,” you pleaded. “Please don’t stop, p-please don’t.”

“Cum for me, darling. Wanna feel you cum.” Lucifer groaned. He bit down on your should as he continued to pound into you, biting and sucking your tender skin. You were shaking, he was going too fast, you were coming undone.

“Cuminme…FUCKCUMINME,” you screamed and wrapped your legs around him as your orgasm flooded over you. You felt your walls pulsating around his cock, it was too much for Lucifer to handle. You heard him cry out and felt him twitch inside you, filling you up with his hot cum.

Coming down from your highs, you both laid there for a moment trying to catch your breath. You played with Lucifer’s hair as he laid across your chest, completely worn out. A minute or two passed before Lucifer sat up and pulled himself out of you. He laid down next to you, staring at your flushed face.

“Are you alright?,” he asked. “Did I hurt you at all?”

“No, you didn’t hurt me,” you smiled. “That felt…really good. Thank you, for everything.”

Lucifer hummed and leaned up to press a gentle kiss to your lips. “No, thank you, love.”

You chuckled returning the kiss. “Would…you mind if I held you, Luci?”

Lucifer’s eyes widened, but he smiled wide. “Of course not, I’d love nothing more.”

Lucifer rolled on his side, giving you the chance to push your body against his back and wrap your arms around him. You both didn’t move until the morning.

~~~~

Hope you enjoyed my second attempt at NSFW content lmaooooo

AND YEAH I MADE HIM THE LITTLE SPOON, IT’S WHAT HE WOULD WANT

[antidesire]

specialize in havin' fun. antidesire

disclaimer, 18+ only. f!reader x logan howlett, logan is ancient so obvi age gap? idk who this is for, what am i doing? think im the dick-sucking writer, i seem to always write about it. no established relationship, reader and logan fool around but reader is head over heels for him. this is just porn, I didn't intend to write logan so rough I think I went off the rails. roughness, a lil non-con??? forcefulness, oral m! receiving, boot.. fucking >:), saliva, desperate!reader, pet names, hair pulling, I haven't written in so long I forgot how to tag, lmk if I miss anything, sorry this is garbage babe.

reblogging, interacting and sending feedback is always much appreciated, requests are open !! ♡

logan's boots hit the stony pavement with a thud, leg swinging over the body of his motorcycle, propping it up diligently. what a fucking day, with a sharp inhale, he tried to shrug off any lingering thoughts that were worming around his brain.

your apartment was a humble and homely one, sure, sometimes the water would either scald you or, leave you falling on your ass when it blasted you with an ice-cold wake-up call, but you had decent neighbours, ones that didn't pry, or make a lot of noise, lot's of privacy, logan liked that, though he'd put up with anything for a night with you.

though this habit of leaving your door unlatched because you expected him, was something he didn't want to put up with, had he not taught you better?

"told you not to do that.." logan mummers under his breath, lord knows any fucker that tried to creep into the naively sweet girl's apartment, is one dead fucker.

pushing the door open, he was greeted with the familiar warmth of the living room, a chiffon scarf with tassels draped over the lamp on the tableside, drenching the room in tranquillity, candlelight flickering to compliment the dimly lit ambiance, he almost slammed the front door shut, as though the outside would taint it if it got too long of a look.

like a domino effect, just the click of the door scrambled you to your feet, tripping over the blanket thrown over your shoulders, "logan!" your hush whisper sounded just as excited as every other time he walked through the door, as though it was a script you followed.

"hey bab- ouh," logan huffed out, your head smacking against his chest first, your arms following in quick succession, squeezing tightly around his chest, "one day you're gonna give yourself a concussion doin' that."

muffled laughs vibrated against his chest. when you breathed in you could smell the gasoline on his clothing, and that cologne he wore, smelt earthy, woody, and a little citrus too.

impatient as always when it came to overtaking all your senses with the man you were enamored with, your fingers find the bulkiest part of logan's arms, not nearly enough length on them to get close to fully engulfing the meaty muscle of them, you squeezed and forced them both around your upper waist, encouraging him to hold you tighter, you wanted to feel light-headed with him.

if you could see the soppy smile that stretched on his face, eyes wrinkled with delight, you would've pounced further on him, "how do you do it?" your head raised at his question, chin digging uncomfortably into his sternum, he continues, "exist when i'm not here for you to love up on me?" logan's fingers tapped up your back, under the shirt of his you were adorned in, the blanket you had over you, long forgotten about.

your cheeks puffed out and lips parted, but only an exhale left them. you quickly shook your head, only nudging into him for more comfort.

“c’mere,” it was quite comical because any closer would’ve been impossible, though you craved it, with a push under your chin, logan leaned down, and without another beat he pushed his lips to yours, his thumb, followed by a trickling of his fingers trailing downwards along your neck, resting his grip mindfully there, as though the kiss hadn’t dazed you enough.

hoo boy, you were easy.

logan had years on him- years was an understatement, and you, this doe-eyed girl, hopelessly head over heels to please him, it was dangerous, logan felt guilty, soiling such a deer.

it was perverse.

it was perverse when he first rammed into you and you choked out the cutest little sob he had ever heard, eyes flooding with fat tears, he had tensed himself, so much restraint it took out of him to even think about pulling out after all the effort it took to push his cock inside you, you’d noticed and in a bit of a panic, “no- nonono.” your legs raised up and around his hips, the heels of your feet pushing against his back, “keep— hngh, stay, can do it.. i can do it.” your breath was so unsteady, “please.” and who was he to deny such a brave girl?

and now when he felt your lips part, trying to sloppily catch up with his own, fingers fumbling awkwardly at the lower hem of his raggedy white tank top, it was perverse.

it didn’t have to go like this every time, but it did, it got out of control, and fast, every single damn time.

logan's beard was dark, mostly, with little flecks of grey if you looked close enough. it scratched your pretty face deliciously when you pushed up further into the kiss, your hands exposing his tanned midriff, wandering upward to his chest, covered in coarse hair, you squeezed his flesh under your greedy fingertips every time you grazed over his waist.

the last thing logan would ever tell you to do was slow down, as much as he reveled in control, seeing you like this, your thoughts at the back of your mind, all action and no consequence, just what feels good, it was euphoric for him.

his nose prodded against yours as his tongue invaded your mouth, the sound of wet lips smacking and breaths hitching, you only let up when a sharp twinge of pain jolted at your scalp, logan's grip from your neck had moved up toward your hair, a bunched handful that arched your body delightfully against his own.

just sometimes, he'd have to nod you in a direction, when you got all fuzzy in the head for him you would've been feeling up on him with your tongue down his throat until your knee's buckled- just a little nod.

with another tug, you let logan maneuver you to the floor, not so gracefully when your knees thudded against the wood, but you didn't flinch, making quick work of his leather belt, the thing was heavy, a big brass oval buckle being the obstacle between him being down your throat already.

logan ever so kindly helped when he tugged the rest of the belt through the loops, it clattering to the ground beside his boots, next came the pop of his button and a quick push of the zipper downwards, flickering his eyes to where you were sitting, knees squashed underneath you, palms on each side of his thighs, and big pupils ghosting over his fingers.

"look at me baby." his thumb prodded at your bottom lip, inviting it to slip past and rest on your tongue, your eyes blinking up at logan, and your head tilting a little when your fingers scrunched the denim of his jeans.

his thumb pushed against your tongue and his finger hooked under your chin, pulling you into him until your cheek smushed into his abdomen and he retracted his hand, pushing his strained cock against your mouth.

you darted your tongue out and felt the texture of his briefs against it, eager fingers nudging the elastic down just enough to get him out of the fabric, barely letting his cock twitch as it met the air, a line of open-mouthed kisses trailing from the underside of his cock, hazily trailing the vein your tongue searched for, the one that leads straight up to his tip.

“s’like you’re drunk when you get like this,” logan hums, his grip on your hair was loose now, you made the prettiest distraction he’d ever laid eyes on, his thighs clenched and he twitched against your mouth again, already shallowly fucking up against your lips, “you remember last time? gotta take it easy, baby.”

last time, was partly logan’s fault, far too carried away in the warmth and slippery slick of your mouth that he had forgotten how big he was, and how small you were, how small your mouth was, it was an easy mistake when you always took anything he threw at you so sweetly, even if it ended with you gagging so uncontrollably, you almost threw up, oops.

your skin warmed out of humiliation at the gentle reminder, hastily leaning up on your knees, either of your legs sprawled out beside you when you reached up to hook both of your fingers in either side of his belt loops on his jeans, a steady handle now you opened your sticky-glossed lips and pushed the tip of his cock into your mouth, that familiar ache in your jaw not tearing down your confidence, but fuck, he was big and thick.

he tasted salty and he felt heavy in your mouth when you shoved more of him past your lips, shocks of hot lust pulsing straight between your legs whenever you heard the man above you even so much as sigh.

here he was, not even five footsteps into the room, with his pretty little thing kneeling before him as though he was a deity you praised, and devoted yourself to, in truth further condemning yourself with a life of sin, much to the both of your pleasures.

your head bobbed, and every so often you'd pull your head upward and curl your tongue around the red-hot tip of him, decorating him with sticky kisses, before he got a little too riled and there came that pulse of pain in your scalp again.

"that's very cute," the mewl that sounded in your throat was buried as soon as he pushed on the back of your head, and stuffed his cock down your throat, "i said take it fucking easy, but don't push your luck sweetheart."

your eyes almost bulged when you felt the tip of his boot nudge in between your legs, awkwardly bouncing until you feel it slip underneath you, flush against your aching warmth, "ffu-" you choked out, a stray fat tear trickling down your puffed out cheeks, mixing in the mess of saliva that pushes past your lips when logan keeps fucking up into your mouth.

"sshush, shsh." he coos out, his fingers that were previously tangled into your hair moving to your cheek, wiping at your sweet little tear, "I got you, baby, relax." his voice was as smooth as honey, and you took a second to still yourself, unclenching your jaw, as much as you could whilst he was rammed into your throat impatiently, exhaling out of your nose and hollowing your cheeks, taking a stronger grip on the hoops of his belt, for your own sanity because the way he tilted the tip of his boot up against your pussy was wickedly evil.

the thin layer of your short shorts did little to help you, you'd spoiled them as soon as his lips meshed with yours earlier.

another inhale,

exhale,

you managed to slide your mouth down much more fluidly this time, even tugging him flush against you, until the hairs at the base of him tickled your nose, you tried your best to pay no attention to the way logan had his boot in between your legs, no, no attention to the way your hips had a mind of their own, swaying against the hard material, your clit bumping deliciously every time you breathed him in, and raised your head and letting it fall in a rhythm.

the sounds that parted from logan's lips were otherworldly, his timbre was guttural and he got increasingly vocal, "fuhhck, mm," logan's brow bone had wrinkled, bliss evident, even in the way his head tilts to watch more darling little tears push past your eyes, "wish you'd greet me like this every day, ah, ah!" he hissed out, the muscles in his thighs tensing when you jolt him forward by the loops in his denim jeans, and he hits the back of your damn throat, and you take it.

cocky, that’s what you were being, and he loved every single drop of it, “gonna be a good little girl, make me cum, mm? yeah?” logan hums, feeling you squeeze his legs in approval.

good little girl,

if there were any three words to put together to make you putty in logan howlett’s hands, it was those.

your little sobs were more evident every time you lifted your head to pay some sweet attention to his tip, collecting the dribbles of sticky precum at the tip of him, rutting yourself against his boot which didn’t fly by logan’s head- no matter how enamored he was with his dick down your throat, “desperate for me to ruin every single bit of you, have a little more respect for yourself sweetheart.” he chuckled out, cruel.

if you weren’t so full of him, your senses screaming loganloganlogan, you would’ve said something, you would’ve scowled at least.

“you’re so pretty like this, let me fuck your throat yeah? you want that?” it wasn’t a question, logan’s rough hands settled on either side of your head and not missing a beat, he was thrusting into your mouth, forcefully, and hard.

his grip was stable, far too strong for you to do anything, anything but your arms flailing and clawing up at his chest, even tearing a hole in his white undershirt that bunched up under his arms.

too much. your brain screeched in panic, but your body betrayed you, helplessly fucking yourself against his boot with your thighs squashed on either side, and holy fuck, you were cumming, your puffy clit rubbing perfectly, and the lack of air did something so euphoric, it was all so wrong, but it could only be right when your body pulsed with pleasure so overwhelmingly you could do nothing but trust him, and let those fat crocodile tears stream down your face.

“sh-shit, did you just cum?” he laughs, he fucking laughs, “ahnngn, that’s so sexy.” logan was losing it, his fingertips pressed into the plush of your cheeks, hips getting sloppy as he neared his high.

one, two, three more thrusts, stuffing himself into your mouth and he is cumming for what feels like an eternity, hot and sticky fluid gushing into your mouth and spilling past your lips, dripping onto your thighs.

he lets up and eases out of your mouth when he squeezes the rest of his spend onto your tongue, gesturing with a nod of his head, “there’s my sweet girl.” you swallow, and it hurts, the strain in your throat, in your jaw, between your legs, every inch of you feels used.

“thank you, lo.” you barely scratch out, knees trembling when you lean up, nuzzling your face against his abdomen, your arms clasping around his waist for comfort, his stomach gleamed with sweat and saliva too, somehow.

logan lifted you to your feet in a swift motion, one of his hands under your arms as the other tucked his dick back into his briefs, getting you to the couch, wrapping that previously forgotten about blanket around you, “i’m gonna run us a bath, you stay here.” his lips pressed a kiss so delicately to your forehead that you felt it almost regenerate your entire body.

“can you stay for a second longer?” your voice was small, unstable.

“m’ not leaving.” logan finds it endearing, honestly a little heartbreaking, “you can’t walk and your shoulders are up to your ears sweet, lemme get a bath going,” he explains, more reassuringly but you still grumble.

he sighs at that, you barely even recognize you are horizontal after what feels like a long blink, one of logan’s arms snugly under your knees whilst the other held your upper back, and he walked onwards to the bathroom, “you remind me of a little lamb like this.” he observed, and laid another sweet kiss, this time to your lips, and your stomach churned in delight, he reassured you once again, just for tonight,

“don’t worry, i’m not leaving yet.”

[bowsnchoso]

Classroom – Gojo Satoru

➺ synopsis: your salacious boyfriend, Gojo, fucks you over your teacher's desk

➺ character: Gojo Satoru

➺ word count: 6.2k

➺ cw: obsessed boyfriend Gojo, f!reader, more sweet pet names (of course!) crack (kinda? yeah.) nsfw, smut, breeding, kissing, loving, lots and lots of dirty talk, profanity, and maybe some more?

➺ note: yeah it's the way I'm a Gojo girl at heart I can't stop writing about him, enjoy!! ^^

You were exhausted.

You had spent your entire day teaching your students, training them, tending to them, and indulging in your duties as a Jujutsu sorcerer and a trusted sensei to your special and very spoiled students.

You stewed on your thoughts, mulling on your grueling day, strolling down the corridor of Jujutsu Tech after spending some time in the teacher's lounge– craving some solitude before you decided to head to your classroom to clean up the last few minutes of your day.

A small smile pulled at the corners of your lips when you thought about what you were going to do once you were back in your room.

Sleep.

Perhaps take a nice long shower, simply standing beneath the warm water, allowing it to stream down your body in perfect and serene silence.

You were pulled out of your caducous reflections when you felt large arms envelop your smaller frame, pulling you into a firm chest that acted as a steady pillar.

A large hand went over your eyes, and your previous smile was replaced with an ebullient one that resonated throughout your chest, your heart fluttering akin to the wings of a delicate monarch.

You felt warmth gather near your ear, “guess who?” His voice was husky, his warm breath prattling against your soft skin. 

The arm he had wrapped over your figure slightly caressed the natural arch of your waist, keeping you close to him in a protective yet affectionate hold.

You couldn’t help but giggle, placing your hand over the one over your eyes to move him, facing him.

There he stood, his hair as white as the wintry snow that descended gracefully from a frigid blue sky, his blindfold protecting his cerulean irises. Yet if you looked closely enough, you could see the slight imprint his eyes left against the cloth.

Your loving boyfriend.

“Satoru!” Your happiness sprouted like a flower, placing your hands against his cheeks, pecking his lips. “When did you get back? You said you’d call me once you got back, I was waiting you know.”

He smiled a crooked grin, wrapping his arms over the small of your back. “Well I’m sorry to keep my pretty girl waiting, I wanted to surprise you, babe~” his voice was playful as he caressed your body, enjoying your blithe response to his unanticipated appearance. “Where were you headed, sweets?”

“Just to my classroom, I was gonna clean up a bit before leaving.” You informed him with a radiant smile, unable to hide your exuberance.

“Mind if your boyfriend tags along?” He tilted his head, smiling down at you, miming your delight.

You shook your head, “as long as you actually help me clean.”

He chuckled lowly, resonating throughout his muscular chest. “Come on, you know I always help you,” Satoru said as he grabbed hold of your hand, leading the both of you to your classroom. “Tell me about your day, gorgeous.” He requested, squeezing your hand with his large, calloused one.

You hummed, following his lead in the direction of your classroom. “Same as always, Satoru. Taught my students, helped them with training, watched over them, assisted them, you know.” You listed your duties as a teacher.

Although it can be quite a demanding job, you especially loved your students– having such a potent, yet natural urge to tend to their needs as a teacher and friend.

“But you enjoyed your day, didn’t you?” He said as he pressed his lips against the back of the hand that he held.

You smiled. “It was nice. My students made it fun.” He smiled at that, loving your ability to be so compassionate and devoted to your students. “What about you, Satoru? How was your day?”

He sighed but still wore that content smile that seemed infinite. “My three kids love to make my day interesting, of course, especially Yuji and Nobara, man can those two argue!” He effused with a chuckle, reflecting back on his day with his wild students.

“And I’m guessing you didn’t even step in to stop them from arguing, did you?” You knew Satoru, he loved letting his students bicker back and forth, he relished it as though it were some kind of k-drama.

He chortled, giving your hand another loving squeeze as you two approached your classroom. “Hey, I stood up, alright? Someone has to eventually roll up their sleeves and be an adult.”

“Megumi seems more like the type to do that.” You chuckled, closing the door behind you two.

“No, Megumi if anything just grumbles under his breath, and tries to ignore the two of them.” Satoru corrected, already having memorized his student's behavior.

You searched through your supply closet, bringing out all the items you needed to clean up. “Oh, right. Megumi, always the methodical one.”

“Exactly, while Yuji and Nobara are just a crazy different breed, teens these days are wild, babe.” Satoru huffed, leaning against your teacher's desk. “But, of course, your students love you enough to behave, right?” He smiled, watching you gather all your cleaning supplies, very particular about the way you clean up your classroom.

You laughed. “My students can misbehave sometimes too, Satoru.” You said, placing the supplies above your desk. “And you act like your students don’t adore you.”

Satoru chuckled. “Well I’m not as good a teacher as you are, but I try my best.”

“Oh?” You muttered in surprise. “Admitting you’re not as good a teacher as me? Are you feeling okay, Satoru?” You teased him, earning a chuckle from your playful boyfriend.

“I’m delusional from my long day, it seems.” He insisted, grabbing cleaning wipes from you. “But, just listen because you wouldn’t believe what happened today.”

You sprayed your desk with a lemon-scented cleaning product, listening to your boyfriend's rambling. “Mhm, what won’t I believe?”

“It all starts with Yuji’s shoes,” Satoru shared as he began to wipe down the students’ desks, while you hummed in reply. “Yuji and Nobara are arguing as always while Megumi and I are walking from behind. Well, Nobara goes, ‘Yuji you always have your dirty ass shoes untied you shouldn’t be talking!’” He mocked his student derivatively, making you crack up at your boyfriend's attempt at mimicking Nobara.

He continued his story, carrying out such a detailed narrative. “And Yuji goes ‘well if it bothers you so much why don’t you just tie them for me?’ Of course, Nobara wasn’t going to do that. Even I knew that. They go back and forth a bit until Yuji finally gives in, right?”

“Right.” You parroted.

“So he kneels over, tying up his shoes, keep in mind, babe, we’re in the middle of a busy street in Tokyo, okay? As he kneels over, so does Nobara, just to inspect him, and as Yuji glances up towards Nobara, this random pedestrian bumps into Yuji, and they kiss!”

You gasped, pausing your movements, trying to fight off laughter that bourgeoned throughout your chest. “Stop it! You’re lying.”

“I’m not!” He stopped his cleaning, getting so into this story. “Babe, you should have seen it. Oh man, the slightest brush of Yuji’s lips against Nobara's had her throwing a fit! She just kept on shouting ewww over and over again, talking about how disgusting it was, how nasty Yuji was for trying to kiss her.” Satoru laughed upon recollection, shaking his head. “I guess she didn’t realize it was an accident, and Yuji tried to exlpain that, but she wasn’t having it. She was too focused on rubbing and cleaning up her lip. Oh babe, it was hilarious I wish I got it on video.” He sighed in delight, rubbing his nape.

“Oh poor Yuji,” you laughed, feeling guilt permeate your gut. “He must have been so embarrassed, probably blushing like crazy, poor baby.”

Satoru chuckled. “Like you wouldn’t believe. His cheeks started to match the shade of his pink hair, I thought he was going to pass out from humiliation.” He crossed his arms over his chest, still laughing about the silly debacle. “Then Nobara began rambling on and on about how her first kiss was reserved for her celebrity crush and how Yuji took that from her and then she started hitting him over and over again.” He sighed, his laughter finally subsiding. “It was probably the funniest thing to see, probably even funnier than that time someone mistook Yuji and Nobara for a couple and she lashed out on the poor person.”

You laughed, cleaning off your chalkboard now. “It’s always those two, isn’t it? Oh, poor Yuji, he probably wasn’t even that offended by the persons assumptions.”

“Oh no, he wasn’t, he was real systematic and understanding about the simple mistake until Nobara started screaming a yelling about it, pissed over the person pairing her up with someone not even worth a glance from her.” Satoru quoted his student, well acquainted with their antics.

You sighed, shaking your head. “Remind me to give Yuji a hug next time I see him, that poor boy.” You muttered, still wearing a humorous smile. “Well, now I know why you let them fight it out. I don’t think you could stop it even if you tried.”

“Exactly. Besides, why would I? It’s entertaining, I just sit back and watch them have at it, like my own little treat for putting up with their bullshit.” Satoru expressed, cleaning up the desks once more.

“You have an interesting set of students, Satoru.” You chuckled. “But they always seem well behaved when I come around.”

He shrugged. “They just hold your breath when you’re around because they know we’re together and they love to tease me about it later.”

You giggled. “Yeah? What exactly do they tease you about, Satoru?”

He hummed, wiping down a new desk. “Just about how I seem to smile extra hard when you come around. You know, the blush on my cheeks that I try to hide behind my blindfold. How you have me wrapped around your little finger, how I’m whipped.” He retold, an impish grin on his lips.

“Oh? And you don’t tell them anything?” You wondered as you began to clean off the chalk erasers.

He finished cleaning off the desks, now watching you clean up your side of the class. “Why would I? They’re right.”

You finished up cleaning your teacher area, leaning against your desk to finally engage in the conversation with your teasing boyfriend about his silly students. “So you agree that you’re whipped for me?” You restated, slightly laughing at the idea.

“I am all of the above for you, sweets,” Satoru was still leaning over one of your student's desks, his hands at the edge of the desk, holding himself.

You smiled, liking the sound of that.

You also couldn’t help but smile at the idea of his students teasing their teacher about his overt adoration with you. It just proved how unafraid Satoru was to depict his love for you, not even having to touch you for others to recognize how in love he was.

You watched as your handsome boyfriend began to close the distance between you two, approaching your teacher's desk that you currently leaned beside. “Did I tell you how gorgeous you look today, yet?” He pondered, taking your hand in his, and kissing it.

You pressed your lips together, looking off to the side as though to genuinely consider his question. “Hm, maybe once or twice today. But, it doesn’t hurt to hear it a third time.” You responded with a loving grin, watching him with tender eyes as he kissed the back of your hand.

He smiled against your soft skin. “Well, you just look sexy in that little teacher's outfit~ I would have never thought I had a thing for a woman in a uniform, but yet here I am thinking about all the things I could do to you in this classroom.” Satoru mumbled, reeling you closer to his hot body.

You invariably admired the way your boyfriend could easily go from laying out subtle and sweet teases to shamelessly echoing the thoughts that roamed his handsome head.

The lascivious inclination in his honeyed voice told you that he was likely considering fulfilling those prurient desires with no regard for the setting that currently surrounded you two. Anything to satiate his cosmic appetite for you, his girlfriend, who stood just a few inches below him, watching you through his blindfold that you always found to be so sexy on him, a cunning grin on his lips that anticipated your response– waiting for your consensus remark.

Your lips pulled into a devious grin, marveling at how wild and insouciant he can be at times, and the way he stared at you through his blindfold, almost as though you could see the yearning in his blue eyes that were currently hidden from you.

“Here, Satoru?” You muttered, trying to sound confident, trying to sound prudent. But, with how close he was had himself pressed against you, his lips brushing against your knuckles, his warm breath dancing against your skin, making you shiver– it was all too much.

You would have completely melted away if it weren’t for his gentle hold on your hand, keeping you upright and grounded.

He chucked through his nostrils, sending chills down your arms as you felt it prattle against your hot flesh. “What’s wrong, sexy, you think someone is gonna walk in on us?”

“W-well, we are at school after all.” You muttered, slightly stumbling over your words as you gently freed yourself from his hold, walking over to lock the door. 

You turned over, seeing that Satoru simply watched you with an entertained smile pulled at his soft lips, standing at the front of your desk, seemingly growing excited by your compliance to his spontaneous urges.

You hadn’t seen Satoru very much that day, and with the way he spoke to you, you were unable to deny the longing that swelled throughout your body whenever he made such salacious comments– knowing exactly how to rile you up, well aware of which buttons to push to get you aching for him as much as he ached for you.

He watched as you approached him, wearing a bashful smile to try and hide the nerves that tethered up in your belly, forming little knots that gripped each time your eyes brushed against his smirk.

“Someone’s eager, huh?” Satoru looked down at you as you stood before him, keeping his hands to himself. “I thought you didn’t like the sound of my classroom ideas? But now it looks like you’d bend over this table if I asked you to.”

You tried to seem unphased by his words.

Tried.

However, you failed.

So miserably.

This wasn’t even the worst of what you’ve heard out of your boyfriend's filthy mouth, either. You knew just how filthy his words could get, how dirty his thoughts were.

You shrugged. “Well… I guess I have a thing for a man in a uniform, too.” You muttered, keeping your eyes on his, assuming he was looking at you through that blindfold. “Because the way you look with that blindfold on is very sexy.”

He chuckled softly, reverberating deeply throughout his stern chest. “Oh, you like the blindfold look, hm? You think it’s sexy?”

You reached a tentative hand up to his blindfold, toying with the seem above his cheekbone. “It’s real sexy, I’ve told you that before.” You chuckled, tugging the cloth with your index finger before you released it, watching it gently snap back against his countenance.

Satoru seemed to shiver excitingly at your actions, his shoulder imperceptibly shuddering when his blindfold snapped against his plush skin, yet he seemed to keep his composure. “Oh, yes you have, pretty girl. What was it that you said the other day? You said that whenever I wear my blindfold you could just get down on your knees and suck my cock? Is that what you said, hm?”

You blushed, had you said something like that?

It seemed likely.

And you had recently been inebriated, too.

Perhaps that’s when you told him. When your mouth was loose and crass with the liquor you consumed.

You quickly attempted to regain your composure. “I-I may have said something like that…” You admitted, unable to stop your voice from shuttering.

He just chuckled teasingly, watching your composure crumble piece by piece, and he was so thrilled, utterly patient, enjoying every moment. “Don’t tell me you’re getting all shy now, sweets. You were very outspoken about it the other day, after all.”

Carefully, you trailed your hands over to your desk that stood beside you. You dragged your hand over the notebooks that idled on the shiny Mahogany wood, sliding them down on the floor behind you.

Satoru watched you with a dancing grin on his lips, one that widened, showing off his sharp canines– exposing the delight that flourished throughout his statuesque body.

“Oops.” You muttered.

You turned over, bending down right in front of him so that your bottom was right at his pelvis as you reached for those set of notebooks that you had accidentally dropped.

You made sure you brushed your ass against him, too, ever so slightly, just to tease your handsome boyfriend.

An entertained smile occupied his lips, watching you bend over in front of him, his dick practically twitching at the sight, already heavily turned on from the moment he embraced you in that damn hallway.

Yet, he didn’t snap.

Instead, he chuckled, again, one that sent butterflies throughout in your restless tummy. “Looks like we have a little vixen on our hands~” He tilted his head, observing your posture.

You grabbed the notebooks, looking over at him as you slowly straightened yourself. “Who, me?” You played along, the pink blush on your cheeks adding charm to your sultry tactics.

Satoru placed his hands against your hips before you were able to straighten out entirely, backing you into him.

You gasped quietly when you felt the building tent in his pants, hard and firm against your ass. His fingers dug into your hips, having you flushed against his muscular body.

“Yes, you.” He muttered, lowering himself to your ear, sending chills down your spine as his breath danced against the back of your neck. “I can’t say I don’t enjoy it, though.” He said before brushing his perfect teeth against the shell of your ear, giving you a playful nibble.

Playful, yet so teasing and tempting.

Enough to make you crumble.

You continued to wear a teasing smile on your lips, adjusting your hips so that you rubbed your ass against his firm erection.

That seemed to get a reaction out of him, sucking in a hissing breath through his teeth as you teased his faltering composure.

It was only a matter of time before it fully shattered like delicate glass.

“I know you like it.” You grinned to yourself when you felt his fingers dig further into your hips, almost as though he were trying to stop you from your playful acts, wanting to keep you still against him.

Only because he was dangerously close to truly pinning you against your teacher's desk and completely fucking you until you were babbling and whining against his tumescent cock, begging him to stop.

He sighed quietly, losing himself. “What do you want from me, huh, princess?” He inquired, his lips still near your ear.

“You know what I want Satoru.” You whispered, placing your hands against the ones that rested above your hips.

“I might have an idea,” he chuckled, amused, but you could tell he was at his end despite how much he wanted to hide that, “spell it out for me, yeah? You sexy little minx.”

You began to rub your ass against his erection, sending shivers down your own spine, marveling at how hard he could get just from the slightest touch. Your slightest touch.

You had a hold on him.

You rested the back of your head against his firm chest, looking up at him with innocent eyes as you said, “I want you to pin me against this desk and fuck me.”

He needed no more, swiftly, but gently, doing just as you asked– laying your back over the desk that stood beside you two.

Satoru stood between your legs, keeping one of his hands on your wrist above the desk while he kept his other hand over your waist, hovering above you. “Is that what you want? You want me to fuck you? Hm?” He said as he began to unzip his jacket that invariably disguised his brawny muscles. “You want this fuckin' cock?”

You watched as he removed that pesky jacket, tossing it to the side, cavalier of where it would land. There he stood, in his compression shirt that he invariably donned beneath his uniform. The one that embraced his muscles so precisely, unveiling the curve of his small waist, and the tight ropes of his muscular abs.

You nodded, your lips parted, flushed beyond words.

“Who am I to deny my sexy girlfriend of her desires?” His large hands began to remove the bottoms of your clothes. “You’re real naughty, you know that? Brushing up against my dick like that, do you really think you deserve this dick after being such a fuckin’ tease? Huh?” He tugged at your bottoms, leaving you in your wet panties.

You simply watched him, flustered, butterflies swarming your gut.

“Tell me, sweets,” he stared at your clothed cunt, watching the way it soaked through your undies, “why are you so quiet all of a sudden? You were just telling me to fuck you a minute ago.”

“I-I just want you so bad, Satoru.” Was all you managed to say under your breath.

He chortled. “I can see that, already soaking up your panties, you’re so dirty.” He toyed with the hem of your underwear, now teasing you. “You seem so restless, gorgeous. Should I help you with that?”

You nodded eagerly, hungry. “Yes.”

It seemed Satoru shared the same desires despite his constant teasing, skillfully unbuttoning his bottoms, letting them fall, revealing his tent that poked through his boxer briefs– fighting to be released and freed.

You softly moaned at the sight, the tight ropes in your belly remembering just how large and thick your Satoru was.

He smirked at your reaction, reading your exact thoughts like you were an open book. “Where are your manners, sweets? What do we say?”

“Please, Satoru,” you breathed, lying against your two elbows to keep yourself propped steadily.

He didn’t need you to beg for it as he could already see it in your pooling eyes that looked up at him with an imploring gaze– almost like you needed his cock inside your cunt in order to survive. To feel something. To feel him work against you, thrusting inside your gripping walls that had memorized his twitching dick so well.

Not another word was needed, he’d give you what you wanted.

Not before his lips were over yours, kissing you passionately, as he always did whenever the two of you engaged in sexual acts together.

He was too obsssed not to. He was too in love not to.

Satoru kissed you slow, your favorite kinds of kisses– when he was gentle and deliberate purposefully as though to test your patience, seeing just how long you could last before you were begging for more of him. Before your tongues would mingle together, licking at each other soppily above that desk, tasting each other's mouths, and exploring one another as though you two had never kissed before. As though you two were practically parched for one another, humming and moaning as your tongues lapped together.

A disappointed moan left your lips when you felt him pull away, gently grazing his teeth against your bottom lip as he began planting wet kisses against your cheek and down your jawline. Instinctively, you opened up your neck for him, giving him all the access he needed to please your delicate skin that was hot and itching for more of him, his hands mapping against your body, grazing and caressing every inch of you, resisting the urge to take your top off.

He pulled away from your neck, tugging at your panties, slowly revealing your wet self. As he pulled them down your legs, he left trailing kisses on your soft calves, finally pulling them off.

Although the blindfold kept his eyes locked away, you could see the reverence that resigned in his blue irises. Something that always casts over his eyes whenever the two of you engage in sexual acts. As much as you loved the blindfold look on him, you had to admit you missed his soft gaze.

Yet, it only seemed to excite you more that he was wearing his blindfold, touching and kissing you in all the right spots despite the cloth over his eyes.

You kept one of your legs wrapped over his torso, while your left leg was over his shoulder, watching as he kissed your soft limb, kissing the bend of your knee, taking his time when it came to moments like these.

You appreciated that part the most.

The efforts your Satoru put into making you feel loved and cherished despite his tortured cock that was suffocated behind his briefs.

“I’ll give you want you want, mmkay?” He said against your skin, still kissing your legs. “Since you’re so patient, such a good girl, sweets.” 

You moan softly in reply, watching your boyfriend do something as simple as kissing your body, already melting beneath him. “S-Satoru, please.” You begged him in a whiney tone, your voice inclined, reaching out for his hand that caressed the side of your thigh.

“You’re so cute when you beg me like that,” he chuckled, watching you caress his large hand. “You gonna beg for this dick? How badly do you want this dick up in your cunt?” He trailed his other hand towards your inner thigh, reaching for your wet center.

Instinctively, you slightly opened up your legs for him, exposing yourself even more to him, moisture gathered at your core, practically dribbling out for him in search of his touch.

“So fucking bad Satoru, I’m so wet for you.” You reached over, gently pulling the blindfold from over his head.

He allowed you, still wearing that cocky grin on his soft lips, looking up at you with those blissful eyelashes that always struck against the chords of your fluttering heart.

His white locks relaxed against his forehead, tufts that acted like curtains near his bucolic eyes that dazzled beneath glistening lights, reverence laced in his gorgeous irises that also donned hints of passion– hints of excitement and hunger.

“Even more gorgeous,” he mumbled under his breath, admiring your fevered body with a slow and deliberate gaze. “You’re so restless, sweetheart.” He began to pull at the waistband of his briefs, finally freeing his hard erection that sprung against his strong abdomen, a long and pleased sigh leaving his plush lips.

You simply watched, awestruck, never quite able to grow accustomed to such an erotic sight. The way the tip of his clean dick was already glistening with precome, dribbling from the mere sight of you lying above the desk, your lower half naked and exposed to him.

Satoru moved swiftly, positioning yourself at your crying entrance, having a firm grip on the leg that you laid over his left shoulder, readjusting it over his torso with his other hand over his cock, drawing slow and teasing circles above your cunt.

You gasped at his teasing behavior, your legs slightly gripping against his torso as he mixed your fluids together, stroking your clit with his wet tip, groaning to himself quietly, watching you writhe beneath him from such a simple deed.

Your heart raced against your aching chest, your stomach having a pulse of its own, still keeping yourself propped on the desk with your elbows, your vision blurred, nebulous as you watched your boyfriend tease you, that smirk on his lips didn’t dare falter.

Unexpectedly, he placed part of himself inside your begging entrance, earning a low gasp from your parted lips.

“Shhh you wouldn’t want anyone to hear us now, would you, sweets?” His voice was strained slightly, focused on shoving the rest of his girthy self in your tight core.

He groaned in difficulty as you moaned against his entirety, laying your head back as you panted. He hadn’t even started his pace and you were already so dazed, drunk off his stagnant self.

He grabbed your hand, pressing his lips against it. “You’re okay, right, gorgeous?” He asked, starting a gradual pace now that he was fully inside.

You just moaned in reply, trying to find the words to tell him that yes you were okay. You were more than okay. You were overwhelmed more than anything, but in the best way possible.

He hummed, thrusting against you slowly. “You can take it, love, you always do.” His eyebrows pressed together, biting his lower lip. “Try to be less tense for me, okay, baby? Can you do that for me? It’ll be easier for the both of us, lovely.” His voice was groggy, also seeming to be overwhelmed, drunk off your body.

You nodded your head, trying to relax the tension that sprouted throughout your body, but each time he thrusted into you, you couldn’t help but recoil in pleasure, filthy moans leaving your mouth, forming no words.

He sucked in a breath through his teeth. “Ah, there it is, like that, such a good girl.” Satoru sighed, stroking your leg while he stroked the walls of your cunt that hugged him tightly. “Look at me now, huh? Can you look at me, baby?”

You had your head back, your eyes closed.

He caressed the leg on his torso, trying to get your attention. “Come onn baby~ look at me.” He pleaded with you, aching to see your eyes. “Watch me fuck you. Watch me stretch this fucking tight pussy open.” He said in a gruff voice, his eyes darting from your flushed countenance and back to your entrance that tugged at his cock in the best way possible.

You moaned at his crass words, they turned you on even more if that was somehow even possible anymore. Finding your composure, you did as he said, meeting his gaze.

That lustful gaze in his blue eyes, his grin widening when you meet his eyes. “Ooh, there you are. Thought I lost you, sexy.” He chuckled, caressing your thigh. “Taking this dick so good, this pussy knows this cock, doesn’t it?” He breathed out, stroking you steadily.

You nodded, humming, though it came out a whine against your tight throat. “Y-You can go faster, S-Satoru.” You permitted.

Although you were already at your limits, you still wanted to feel more of him. You wanted to hear the contact of your skin echo against the walls of your classroom.

He chuckled at your request, taking up on your offer immediately, speeding up the set pace in his relentless hips.

You let out another struggling moan, your left hand gripping the edge of your desk, your lips falling open against his slightly quickened pace.

The sound of your skin slapping together, the sound of his gruffs mixed with your light moans, his words. All the dirty words that just kept flowing from his wet lips, it was enough to get your body shuddering, to get your cunt aching further, to get your eyelids heavy.

His fingers found themselves against your distended clit, thursting into you whilst rubbing his dexterous fingers against you gently. “You look so fucking good under me like this, getting fucked over your desk like the dirty girl you are.” He talked through his thrusts, his voice slightly airy, lost in a cloud of passion and heat.

You reached your hand against his shoulder, desiring to touch and feel him, overwhelmed by his erection that pounded against your tight walls and his fingers that whisked against your clit, awakeining a deep ache in the center of your gut.

The desk beneath you began to tremble, unable to withstand the pressure and blunt force that was added by Satoru’s pitiless cock that continued to throb and twitch inside you.

You leaned closer to him, placing both hands on his shoulders now, bringing him closer to you, trying to ground yourself with the shaking desk.

He winced when he felt your nails dig into his clothed shoulders, now focusing his hands on your hips to steady you over the moving desk to keep his set pace over your g-spot. “Just hold onto me, baby, I got you, okay?” 

You whined in reply, your fingers now finding themselves tangled up in his white locks, unable to resist your sights from the lewd scene in front of you.

The wet sounds that squelched from your core as he mercilessly pounded you, his hands on your hips, grounding you, almost like he was coaxing you into taking him wholly with such adamant force– determined to please you. 

Watching him tend to your aching parts was enough for you to finish on it’s own.

It was quite a sight for him too, watching your body rock against his thrusts, your suffocated breasts in your top struggling to stay still, bouncing against his movements. The incessant moans that flowed from your hot mouth, the flush on your cheeks, the way your wet lips gripped around his thick and ruthless cock.

It drove him to his edge.

Satoru leaned against your ear, kissing at your lobe which only enticed you further, close to your edge. “This pussy is mine, isn’t it?” He continued his filthy talk, riling you up furhter.

He knew how much you loved it.

“Listen to the way it sounds when I’m inside,” he said teasingly, hinting at the constant wet sounds that played each time he thursted inside you, “so good I don’t think I ever wanna stop. The way it squeezes against my cock– I don’t think your pretty cunt wants me to stop either, hm?”

You shook your head, squeezing your hands against his fluffy white hair, panting against him. “N-No, I want you to keep fucking me, Satoru.”

He hummed as he pelted the shell of your ear with more kisses, satisfied with your response. “Yeah? Want to come up all inside this pussy? Want me to fill you up?”

You nodded eagerly, edged by the mere sound of that, already feeling the warmth of his potential fluids that would shoot inside you, sticking to your walls, marking himself inside you.

“F-Fill me u-up.” You said against his thrusts, breathing hard.

“I’ll fill you up, whatever my sexy princess wants~” he drawled, breathing against the crook of your neck, struggling to keep himself restrained, “fil you up ‘til you’re fucking leaking out all over this damn desk.”

You moaned at his words once more, your breath hot against his neck, your trembling fingers tangled up in his disheveled hair.

He groaned, feeling himself reach his end, and it was coming up so quickly. And you definitely weren’t making it any better.

He quickened his pace, cursing under his breath, panting.

The items on your desk rattled with Satoru’s thrusts, and it began to carefully creak beneath you.

You felt a coil in your gut, and you knew you were reaching your end. 

“S-Satoru.” You breathed out, throwing your head back as he fucked you. “I-I”

“Yeahh baby, I hear you.” He groaned against you, already knowing what you were going to say. “Go ahead and come for me, yeah? Come all over this cock.”

You continued to moan against him, shutting your eyes, and focusing on the waves that were carefully teeming over your shuddering shoulders.

Before you knew it, you reached your peak, letting out one last stifling moan as you finished vigorously all over your boyfriend's dick, panting out in both pain and relief.

Satoru was right behind you, filling you up with his warm fluids as he grunted in response to his much-desired release, twitching inside you, dropping his head as his chest fell up and down, rhythmically, the two of you riding out your pleasures together, still stroking against your walls, causing some of your shared fluids to ooze out of you, trickling down.

Warm and satisfied. That’s what you invariably felt whenever Satoru finished fucking you.

He pulled himself out of your tight hole with another low growl despite its resistance, a string of fluid following his wet tip.

While you were busy trying to compose and gather yourself above your desk, Satoru was back in his boxers, your panties in his hands.

“Baby, you’re okay, aren’t you?” He breathed out, his face flushed, his white hair in tendrils from the sweat that gathered at his forehead.

He reached over, brushing the hair off your damp forehead, kissing your head, and waiting patiently for your response.

You took one last long sigh, staring into those blue eyes of his that held his utter admiration for you. “I-I’m okay, Satoru.” You muttered, your legs wrapping over his torso again.

He smiled, kissing you one more time. “That’s my girl. Let’s get you dressed, okay?”

You mimicked his expression, cherishing the meticulous ways he took care of you after you two had sex.

Satoru helped you off your desk, having dressed you.

The desk slightly wobbled as you held onto your boyfriend's strong biceps, hopping off the table.

You looked back at your table, which was now barely even stable.

He looked over at it, slightly chuckling. “I’ll fix that for you later, okay?” He promised, before kissing your warm cheek.

[azzo0]

Summary: Time and time again, Bakugo swears on every fiber of his being, you're the most beautiful woman to walk this planet.

Pairing: Bakugo x f!chubby!reader

cw's: fluff with nsfw themes, reader has long hair styled into curls, feel free to lmk more in tags

The first time he met you was at Kirishima's housewarming party. He didn't really want to be there when he could be deep asleep in his bed at home after a nice meal and a long, warm bath. He stood by the window alone, sipping on his drink from the plastic cup. He saw a few faces he didn't recognise. Probably one of Pinky's or Shitty Hair's friends, he told himself.

Crimson eyes shifted to the window, tuning out Denki's annoying playlist as he stared at a random spot and zoned out. He snapped back to reality when someone bumped into him, causing him to spill his drink over his new button-up. Lips curled in a scowl, he turned around to tell the stranger to open their eyes and watch where they were going. His words never got to leave his mouth when he laid his eyes on the woman in front of him.

"Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry!" She apologised, grabbing a box of tissues from the little table by the window. She handed it to him, but he was too busy trying not to blush as he admired the woman. She took his lack of response as a sign of annoyance, took out a few tissues from the box and wiped them over his chest as she profusely apologised. 

Bakugo watched the way her loose curls bounced over her shoulders, some falling over her ample breasts. His eyes trailed down the little red dress onto her beautiful curves and the soft roll of her tummy, a gentle whisper of feminity and warmth.

"Er- are you alright?" Your voice brought his eyes up to your face again, wild crimson the same shade as his eyes, dusting his cheeks at being caught staring. 

"I'm fine," he replied gruffly, "Just watch where yer goin' next time." 

"I'm sorry," You smiled. That damn smile that woke up butterflies in his chest, "It's a little hard to walk in these."

"Whatever," He tried looking anywhere but at you unless he wanted to stare again. He couldn't help it. Something about you drew him in like a moth to a flame. He could tell you were shifting awkwardly as you still stood in front of him. 

He watched you make a move to leave, his jaw clenching. Out of all his friends, he was the only one left single, something that worried Mitsuki and his friends a lot. He'd gone on dates set up by Mina and Mitsuki, but it never went past the first date. How could he continue something that had no spark in the first place? 

But this. This was different. 

Something told him it'd be a waste to let you go without another word, "Are you one of Alien's friends?" He blurted, internally cringing. 

"Alien? Is that a nickname for Mina?" you grinned at him, unaware of the effect it was having on him, "Yeah, I'm a friend of hers."

"I'm Y/n, nice to meet you." You smiled, extending your hand. 

"Katsuki." He shook your hand after a moment of hesitation. 

Thinking on it years later, he was glad he made a move to talk to you back then. Because now here he is, with you in his arms, with someone to call his. 

Over the past few years, he's made it clear how much he loves you and how obsessed he is with every inch of you. He's said it in between sweet kisses, steamy makeouts and long nights making love. 

He loves buying you skimpy and expensive dresses that show off your soft, velvety thighs that his hand keep latching onto whenever he sits next to you. You've told him to stop buying you these because they always end up getting burnt or torn when he gets too impatient, but no. He'll keep buying you these over and over again. It's his money; he buys you whatever the fuck he wants.

He loves the squishiness of your breasts, groping them from the back with a sly grin. He could knead them on and on forever if you don't swat his hands away.

He loves the softness of your tummy, where he often rests his head after a tiring day. He loves your gentle voice, lulling him to sleep with your fingers dancing in his hair. He feels at home with his head on your stomach and hand in his hair. 

Of course, he loves you from head to toe, but, oh, god, he loves your thighs. It drives him insane when you wear his boxers. He loves how the stretchy fabric clings to your ass and thighs, inviting him to drag you over to the couch so he can press soft kisses and bites to the insides of your thighs. He gives you the most mind-blowing head just so he can hear you scream his name and squish his head in between your thighs. 

Most of all, he loves it when you're safe and sound asleep in his arms with your head on his chest. He still feels butterflies the same way he did when he first met you. Looking down at your serene, moonlit features, he moves some hair away from your face, tracing your cheek with the pad of his thumb. As he strokes your hair, he swears on every fiber of his being that you're the most beautiful woman to walk this planet.

[angelltheninth]

An Archon's Fated One

Pairing: Zhongli x Fem!Reader

Tags: nsfw, smut, failed arranged marriage, running away, love confession, loss of virginity, kissing, mating bite, protectiveness, creampie, tail shenanigans, Rex Lapis!Zhongli

Word count: 1.5k

Ao3

A/N: Come get your dragonfucking smut!

You knew from the start that the arranged marriage wouldn't work out. Your so called husband was an abusive, entitled asshole, besides your heart already belonged to someone else. It has for a very long time. He was the only one you loved, the man you ran to for safety and comfort, Rex Lapis, Morax, or as you knew him, Zhongli.

The door to his home opened as soon as you approached, he senses you, moreover he sensed your distress. "Ah, I didn't mean to frighten you. When I felt you approach I... your... your wrists... your neck... what?" His eyes widened in horror as he took you in. You must have looked pretty pathetic to him, crying and cowering by his side as he ushered you inside, placing his hooded coat over you, unmindful of his own half-nakedness.

He didn't push you for answers, he ordered for a bath to be ready for you, and any change of clothes you wished. When you walked beside him you could feel his thick tail caressing your lower back and your legs. No hands. Not until you told him it was okay to do so.

Would he think you even weaker if he knew? You were human so you already paled in comparison to a god. You knew that even if he shared your feelings your relationship would never last. Zhongli opened the door for you to show you into the bedroom you normally stayed at when you spent the nights at his place. He never crossed the line of sleeping with you, he never even kissed you, the most you got out of him were late night cuddles and breakfast.

No wonder your husband was jealous. You spent more time with here then with him. Doesn't change the fact that you never wanted to marry him in the first place. Or what he did to you.

"Wait." You called out, hands touching Zhongli's tail, "Please don't go. I'm... scared of being alone tonight."

Zhongli turned to face you and let his hands hover over your shoulders, still waiting for your signal. After you gave him a nod you felt his warmth, his arms pull you into a hug, against his chest, felt exactly where his arm markings stopped, and when you hugged him back felt where his dragon trail began as your hands rested on the small of his back.

The bed was just as soft as always, like what you imagined sleeping on a cloud might feel like. The only sturdiness was Zhongli himself. "He did this, am I correct?" Your tremble of fear was confirmation enough. Zhongli snarled, his eyes flashing bring yellow for a moment before he took a deep breath of your scent to calm down. "I should have sensed it. I should have been there. I am so sorry darling."

You snuggled deeper into his arms, taking in his comforting words and petname, "I told him I wanted a divorce, that... there was someone else." His arms slackened slightly, but you kept going, "I told him I loved an Archon and he laughed at first. Then I told him... that it was you. He... accused me of cheating on him."

His silence invited you to keep talking, as did his tail, now coiling around you.

"Because I was here so often he thought we were sleeping together. Didn't believe me when I said we were only friends. He got angry, really angry." Your body shook remembering his hands around your neck, the names he called you, the insults.

"So you ran here. To me." Zhongli's voice sounded lower then usual. It sent a very different kind of chill down your body, one that finished between your legs. It was shameful. How something so simple had an effect on you. It wasn't anything new for you, when you were in here you always had your hand between your legs at least once a night, not daring to call his name out.

"Because I knew you'd keep me safe Zhongli. I trust you."

"You love me." He announced, shifting his body until he was on top of you, looking down at you, his face still stoic but his hands conveying his love as they cupped your face. "If you so wish, if you would allow me, I could make you my woman. My mate."

Your heart wanted it, your cunt did too, pulsing and empty, "I don't need you to pity me. I know I'm just a human. I have nothing to offer you."

"That is not true. For years now you've been coming here, keeping me company, talking to me, keeping me from going insane. Also," He bent down and nosed your neck, "don't think I don't know what you've been doing in here. This is my domain, I hear and see everything and everyone."

It was probably you who spread your legs for him, made it easy for his hips to push between them, for him to press his rock hard bulge against your core. There was so much heat between you two, but not enough friction. He could fix that, you could see he ached to fix that if only you said the words.

"Zhongli, please make me yours." Every other time you uttered those words it was in the thorns of passion and without him there to do so. Now he was here, on top of you, pealing off your clothes layer by layer until you lay naked beneath him. His pants followed, revealing that hard cock that's been the subject of your dreams for so many nights.

"Has he..." Zhongli trailed off, his body shaking as he aligned himself up with your entrance, gathered some wetness at the tip and waited.

You shook your head, "He wanted me to submit on my own, but how could I when I only wanted you." You reached back, undoing the tie in his hair with one hand and scratching at the base of his strong horn with the other, feeling the scales there. And with your heels you felt the beginning of his tail as you pulled him closer, "I want you to be the only one for me from now on."

"And I shall be." Zhongli handled you with gentleness, but also possessiveness, his hands running to your hips, his eyes following the bounce of your breasts when he entered you, the gulp you made that tapered off into a moan. It was very much to his liking. "My bite, I will hurt. However if you're to be my mate, my bride, it's necessary."

The pain of it scared you a little, but the pleasure you currently felt, his big, thick, throbbing cock rolling in and out of you with every movement of his hips was enough to distract you. You leaned up to kiss him first, "I do." You whispered against his lips, which made him tilt his head, "It's how humans seal a wedding."

"Ah. Then... I do." Zhongli's lips felt much hotter than your own, every part of him felt hotter. You wondered how his cum would feel. Your pussy clenched around him at the thought. His cock responded by twitching.

You leaned your head backwards, exposing your neck to him. His claws dug into the sheets and bedding beside your hips, clawing and tearing at them, he was trying to hold back from finishing. "I wanted you for so long. So long, my darling. The amount of seed I wasted when I should have been planting it inside your womb instead... it angers me."

Sharp teeth ticked your skin, feeling you gulp before they settled between your neck and your shoulder, "Please. I want to be yours Zhongli. In every sense of the word."

That firm tail now wrapped around your leg like a snake, pulling it to the side so that he could have even more room. You were right, the bite hurt, but the pain was pale when compared to the pleasure that flowed both in and out of you moments later. You were hot all over, hot as your body arched against his, hot on the inside as you would be impregnated by his seed tonight, the sheer amount spilling from you, making your thighs sticky.

Despite giving it your best shot you couldn't leave marks on his back, but you knew he felt that you tried, a pleasant rumble emanating from his lips as they pulled away from your neck. Zhongli rolled you both to the side, his tail trading being coiled around your leg to being coiled around your hips.

One of his hand pressed down against your stomach, his voice low, "I love you." It was almost too quiet to be a whisper. "I will keep you safe, I promise you. Nothing and no one will ever bring you harm again."

If you had enough strength you would have cried again at that very moment. There will be time for tears, both happy and sad in the future. For now you wanted to rest, to sleep your first night with him soundly. With him, Rex Lapis, Morax, Zhongli, your new husband.

[steddie-island]

Risky Business

Written for @steddie-week day 2 | Prompt: Hands Rating: M | WC: 2,027 | Tags: Pre-Steddie, season 2, shotgunning, dry humping, coming in pants, cheating (if you squint) Find full list of tags on ao3 | Divider credit

“Watch it, Harrington!”

Steve didn't even turn around to see who was yelling at him. He needed to get the fuck out of there.

Bullshit. Bullshit. Bullshit.

The words reverberated in his head, echoed in the empty hollow of his chest where his heart used to be.

"Like we're in love?"

It was too fucking much. There were monsters, and Barb was dead, and Nancy wasn't in love with him, and—

“Harrington!”

“What!” Steve spun around and came face to face with one Eddie Munson. He definitely didn't need this shit right now, either, whatever Eddie was trying to do.

“Jesus, who pissed in your cheerios?” Eddie held his hand out, where Steve's keyring dangled from one finger. “I was giving these back, but if that's how it's gonna be.”

Steve swiped for them, but Eddie already had them folded back into the palm of his hand and was walking towards the house again.

“Just— hand them over.” Steve tried to make another grab for them, but Eddie was too fast, the shithead. “Munson, I'm in a really bad goddamn mood, okay?”

Eddie lifted his free hand to his head, rubbed at the back of his neck. “How much have you had to drink?”

Steve blinked at him. “I'm fine to drive.”

“That's not an answer, big boy, and I'm afraid it would be against the Munson code to let you do something stupid like that.” Steve swiped for his keys again, but then Eddie was turning, rearing his arm back— and Steve watched as his keys went flying.

“What the fuck !” Steve wanted to shove him, wanted to wipe the stupid smile right off of his stupid fucking face.

“I'll help you find them later,” Eddie said. “C'mon, man. You're clearly not in any shape to drive. Let me take you home.”

Steve wanted to say no. He wanted to kick and scream and argue but how the fuck else was he supposed to get home now? Just the thought of sticking around long enough to see Jonathan pour Nancy into his car made his stomach twist.

He could walk, but he was so tired . It washed over him all at once, and Steve's entire body sort of slumped. “Fine. You're paying if we don't find them, though.”

Eddie looked surprised, like he hadn't expected Steve to give in so fast. Still he bowed, gestured ahead of them. “Right this way, sir.”

“You wanna talk about it?”

Steve shook his head, bringing his cheek to rest against the window. “Not really.”

”Okay.” Eddie reached over and turned the radio on. The music was heavier than what Steve usually listened to, but that actually helped get him out of his head. There was going to be a breakdown, and a big one, but he needed it to not happen here, in Eddie Munson's van.

Eddie fidgeted. Steve could tell he wanted to talk, to say somthing, anything , to get rid of the silence between them.

“Does... Wheeler have a way to get home?”

Steve wished Eddie would've kept his big mouth shut.

“She's fine,” he said flatly. Emotionless. He couldn't think about Nancy, about bullshit, bullshit, bullshit .

“Shit— hey, I'm sorry, man.” Eddie was really fidgeting now, and— fuck.

Steve wiped away traitorous tears and cleared the lump out of his throat. “I'm fine,” he said, snappier than he meant to. It wasn't Eddie's fault he was losing his cool.

“Clearly. Totally fine,” Eddie said, nodding. He seemed to think about it, fingers drumming against his steering wheel again— did he ever sit still? Then they were turning away from Steve's house, towards the edge of town.

“C'mon, man, I'm fine, just—”

“Trust me,” Eddie said. His eyes flicked over to Steve again. “This is better than going home.“

Steve had been to Lover's Lake before, but never in the back of Eddie Munson's van. They'd parked, and Eddie had lit up a preroll. Whatever was in it, Steve wasn't feeling any pain anymore.

They were floating together, weightless in the back of the van on the pile of blankets Eddie had spread out for them. Steve's hair hung away from his face as he watched the way the night sky reflected in the water.

There were no dead girls here, no alternate universes with monsters ready to rip them to shreds.

There wasn't a bat driven through with nails that looked rusty with old monster blood rotting away in his trunk.

There were just stars, and the music pouring softly through the speakers now. And Eddie, warm and sturdy by his side, with their pinkies barely touching.

"Fuckin' love this song," Eddie said. Steve didn't recognize it, though the thrum of the guitar made his already fuzzy brain vibrate pleasantly.

"Think you've said that about every song we've listened to," Steve murmured. His tongue was heavy and thick in his mouth. He reached for the joint, giggled when his fingers didn't want to work and he nearly dropped it.

"Lemme help you." Eddie rolled over, pressed the butt of if it to Steve's lips. His fingers were dry and warm. Steve's eyes nearly crossed as he tried to watch those fingertips. He was so distracted he almost forgot to actually inhale.

"Never woulda taken King Steve for a lightweight," Eddie teased. His voice was giggly, too, as he leaned back, brought the joint to his own mouth and took a long pull.

Steve couldn't stop watching his fingers, the glint of the light on his rings as he lifted a hand to tuck his hair behind his ear.

"You still with me?" Eddie asked. He lightly bumped his foot against Steve's and gave him a teasing smile.

"Yeah, 'm with you," Steve said. He reached up to touch one of Eddie's rings without really thinking about it. "You have nice hands." His fingers were long, slender. Musician's hands, complete with callouses that Steve had the odd desire to get his lips on.

Maybe the bitten nails weren't a musician thing, just an Eddie thing, but that didn't change the fact that Steve kind of wanted to kiss those fingertips.

"Yeah? You like, big boy?" Normally Eddie wouldn't have risked flirting with the straight jock high off his ass in the back of the van but Harrington didn't feel like a threat. He waved his hand lazily and watched Steve's gaze follow along like there was a slight delay between what Eddie was doing and Steve brain processing it.

"Yeah." Steve reached up to catch Eddie's wrist, to stop him from moving his hand around. "I do." He trailed his fingertips over Eddie's palm then outlined one finger at a time.

If anyone had told Eddie that morning that he would end the day holding hands with a stoned Steve Harrington at Lover's Lake he would've laughed in their face and asked if they needed a ride to the hospital. Here he was, though, with the ex king threading their fingers together, pressing palm flush against palm.

A shaky breath slipped out of Steve's chest. He pulled their hands closer so he could run his fingers over Eddie's rings, then up along his knuckles.

Eddie watched Steve with heavy lidded eyes. They were just holding hands— at least, he thought this weird thing Steve was doing where he followed the lines where their hands touched counted as holding hands— but there was something about it that felt intimate.

Maybe it was the way Steve's lips were parted, and the peek of pink as his tongue wet his lower lip. Maybe it was the way Steve was eyeing their clasped hands like he wanted to fucking bite them.

Or like he was holding Eddie's hand to keep from doing just that.

"Harrington." Eddie nudged Steve with his foot again. "Sure you're with me?"

Those warm eyes met Eddie's again. Steve didn't answer, he just watched Eddie's face in a way that made the other boy feel cut open and exposed. It was a feeling Eddie didn't get often, a feeling he really didn't know how to be comfortable with.

So Eddie did the first thing that came to mind that wasn't just staring right back. He took a hit off of the joint, never taking his eyes off of Steve's. He didn't let the smoke out and instead leaned in to almost press their lips together, and once Steve opened his mouth, he let the smoke pass between them.

Steve made an injured sound. Before Eddie could pull back to check on him a hand was in his hair, and then they were kissing. It was desperate, tongues and teeth meeting and clashing.

"Eddie," Steve panted before tipping his head back so Eddie's mouth could be on his throat instead.

Eddie wanted to mark him. He wanted to bite and suck and leave traces of himself all over this ridiculous jock. He had just enough mind left to not let himself do that, and instead he dragged his tongue over Steve's pulsepoint before giving his earlobe a gentle tug.

"Oh fuck —" Steve pulled him in, licked into Eddie's mouth again and ground against the thigh now settled between his own legs.

There was an urgency in the way Steve's hips moved, in the way he kissed at Eddie's neck before biting down, unafraid to mark the way Eddie had been.

Eddie cursed and rocked down, meeting those hungry little movements. They were going to come together, ruin their clothes together. He should stop it, should remind Steve that he was drunk and there was maybe a girlfriend waiting for him when the sun came up.

Then Steve tugged down the collar of his shirt and those perfect fucking teeth were digging into his collar bone. Eddie cried out at the flash of pain and pleasure as he spilled into his boxers.

Steve anchored a hand into Eddie's hair and pulled him in to kiss him again. His movements picked up, became something more firm against Eddie's thigh.

Eddie was going to remember the sound Steve made as he was coming for the rest of his life.

They settled together on their nest of blankets, with the come drying into the fabric of their clothes and in their pubic hair. Eddie barely dared to breathe, in case Steve decided to kick his ass once he'd come back to himself more. Steve didn't do that, though. Instead he took Eddie's wrist and brought his hand to his mouth, to kiss the underside of each of his three chunky rings before resting Eddie's hand on his chest.

"I should get home."

They cleaned up as much as they could with the napkins fished out of the glovebox. The blankets were left in a pile in the back to be dealt with later.

Steve seemed more calm on the drive back to the Harrington house. Some of the edge Eddie had noticed when they'd first ran into each other seemed to have been smoothed out, whether by the weed or the orgasm or a mix of the two he wasn't sure.

Only once they were parked did Steve remember— "Fuck." He looked up at his house, with all the dark windows staring down at him. "I don't have my keys."

"Actually…" Eddie reached into the pocket of his leather jacket and came up holding Steve's keys.

"You sneaky bastard." Steve took the keys and turned them over as if inspecting that they really were his.

"I really didn't feel like sneaking around Tina's house and having her call the cops on me. Just had to make you think I'd thrown them."

Steve watched Eddie's face in the dashboard light. Tomorrow he would have to talk to Nancy, he knew. It was going to hurt— already his chest ached with what they had to do, what he'd been refusing to accept had been coming for a while now.

But maybe it didn't have to hurt forever. Maybe he didn't have to hurt forever.

"Good night, sneaky bastard." Steve reached over and squeezed Eddie's knee before slipping out of the van.

"Night, Steve," Eddie said. He sat there watching until Steve was safely inside.

[stsgluver]

tags. gojo x reader, established relationship, fluff, non-sorcerer!au, you+gojo+geto+shoko all teens, slice of life

“move.” shoko tried to shove gojo off of the small bench in the photo booth, inadvertently almost pushing you off too as you sat perched on his lap. the blue eyed male gasped, his hold on your waist tightening as he shoved shoko back.

“don’t push me!”

you giggled at their bickering, geto rolling his eyes as he remained trapped between the wall and shoko's knee that was on the bench between him and gojo.

"this wasn’t designed for four people," geto pointed out the obvious. it barely had enough room for two so when the two boys had decided to crash what was meant to be a strip of photos of just you and shoko, it had been a struggle to even fit all four of you in.

it didn't help that two of you well exceeded six foot.

shoko scoffed as she pointed her thumb towards the curtain, "yeah gojo get out."

your boyfriend shook his head, dropping his chin down onto your shoulder as he whined like the child he was behaving as, "why me? baby defend me."

you patted the top of his head condescendingly, "i'm sorry but you're just too tall." whether it be his or shoko's lap, you knew you'd be comfortably in the photos.

gojo's head shot up and he pointed accusingly at geto who looked like he longed to be out of this tiny box that was way too hot. "he’s the same height."

"yeah but he’s not as annoying so he doesn’t take up as much space," shoko argued.

gojo threw up his hands at that, hurt by your betrayal and shoko, "that doesn’t even make sense!"

geto, having given up on there ever being a peaceful resolution between the two, paid the fee for the booth. he tapped shoko's arm (who was still standing awaiting gojo to move off the bench) and pointed towards the camera her back was covering. "the photos are about to start."

begrudgingly - and muttering several choice words at gojo - shoko settled on kneeling down on the metal floor. she held up a middle finger towards gojo who copied the action back towards her. you looped your arms around your boyfriend's neck, smiling towards the camera as the familiar shutter went off several times.

"that 100% only got my forehead," shoko complained and geto gestured for her to sit on his lap as you were on gojo's.

she agreed, quickly swapping positions. you'd dropped your arms from around gojo's neck so just before the camera went off, shoko leaned across, pulling you into a side hug as you both smiled for the camera.

geto had been alright and in view, laughing on the other side of shoko as she'd moved herself to specifically be in the way of gojo as an act of revenge for not giving up his seat.

"shoko ieiri!" gojo reached for her smoothed shoulder-length hair, messing it up by ruffling his large hand through it.

to no one's surprise, she did not take kindly to the offence and the next two photos went off with geto holding back shoko and gojo hiding behind you.

laughing, you quickly slipped off of gojo's lap and stepped out into the fresh air. there had been no screen to show you how the photos would come out, just a hope that you were all in the frame.

it took another ten seconds or so but two strips of the same four photos dropped down and you grabbed them without hesitation. shoko appeared on your right, peering over your shoulder as the two of you snickered at the awful photos.

the first one was the only one where all of your faces were visible; geto looked between shoko and gojo exasperatedly as they held up their middle fingers whilst you were smiling brightly. the second one had you, geto and shoko grinning whilst only gojo's forehead was visible along with his white hair that had been pushed back by his dark sunglasses.

the next two were a display of chaos - the first of the two had managed to capture shoko's less than pleased expression and gojo with his hand still messing up her hair. the second one then had geto's arms around shoko's middle whilst gojo used you as a human shield, trying to hide his large frame behind your much smaller one extremely unsuccessfully.

you slipped one into your bag and handed the other to geto who would probably put it up in his car behind the mirror.

shoko held her hand out towards gojo expectantly, "you're paying for me and yn to have another go."

[that-sarcastic-writer]

Mind Games (2)

Direct cntinuation to Mind games (til we lose control) (takes place before lost time)

Ben/Soldier Boy X Supe!Fem!reader

Summary: Herogasm proves to be a disaster for everyone involved, but at least you and Ben still have each other at the end of the night. Takes places during the Herogasm episode but like I did my own shit

Warnings: explicit sexual content, minors dni, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it mfs), p in v, shower sex (pls don't try to recreate this, SB has super strength, your man does not, you might break sum), oral (f receiving), fingering, multiple orgasms, creampie, dom!Soldier Boy, praising kink, Ben calls her mean things a lot (but she likes it), choking, hair pulling, spitting, Soldier Boy cause mf is a warning on his own, typical canonical violence for this show, no use of y/n, Violet isn't her real name, just a nickname.

WC: 6.9k I'm so sorry

A/N: WHAT DID I TELL YALL MFSSS. Took me 2 years to revisit it but yk what it's fine cause every year is Soldier Boy's year. So yeah here we are. I will warn yall im not too good at writing action/fight scenes, like it made sense in my head but idk if that image translated well into the scene. I only know how to write smut im sorry. But to my Ben/Jensen girlie's, this is for you. I'll see yall in hell <3

Gif is not mine I found it on Pinterest

Universe masterlist | I no longer have a tag list so if you'd like to keep up with updates follow @midnightreadinglibrary

Fucking Herogasm. Christ, you didn't remember the last time you were here. Funny, the last time you went to a Herogasm party it was coincidentally with Ben. And it was in fact the last one you ever went to. It never felt right to go back without him. 

"Fuckin' Herogasm," Butcher laughed and shook his head, glancing back at you with intrigue, "You ever been Violet?" 

Your lips curled up a bit and you licked your lips slowly, glancing at Ben for a second before you found two pairs of curious eyes on you. 

"Yeah, every year for like ten years." You responded, and you were met with a look of disbelief from Hughie, and even Butcher had a slight glint of surprise in his eyes. Perhaps they didn't take you as the orgy, drugs and depravity type of supe, not that you blame them, that never truly was your idea of fun. But you weren’t entirely innocent either. "I'm serious. You can ask Ben if you don't believe me." 

Both men gave Ben a long glance and he laughed, shrugging at you. 

"She ain’t lying, I took her to her first one, in 74' was it? Should've seen her, such a pretty doe-eyed lil’ thing, with a face like hers she fooled everyone." 

"Oh, yeah, you showed innocent little me all the ropes. It was very educational." You rolled your eyes, trying to hide the small grin on your face, and Ben had one of his own. 

For a moment you forgot neither of the other two men quite understood whatever was going between you and Ben, so you missed the uncomfortable look on their faces. 

"Oh, I showed you a hell of a lot more than just the ropes, sweetheart." 

"And I'll show you both the barrel of a gun if I have to endure another second of your trip down erotic memory lane. Can we focus here?" Butcher groaned, looking both annoyed and disturbed by your relationship, like a parent who was tired of keeping his two horny teenagers in line. 

You exchanged a look with Ben, eyes big and lips pursed as you tried not to laugh and you gave him a look of having just been scolded. He simply rolled his eyes and half paid attention to Hughie and Butcher as they went back and forth about who was going in first. 

You, as always, just stood there and observed, absentmindedly twirling your knife between your fingers as you listened to them agree that Hughie should go in first so you could be in and out as quickly as possible. In between your own priorities, Ben being the main one, you had almost forgotten why you were here in the first place. Despite the fact that you were picking off Payback's members one by one, you quickly realized this wasn't for you, or Ben and his plot for revenge. No, it was about Butcher getting his. And the two of you were simply there to make it happen. 

You had begun to wonder if this was all there was to it, a means to an end, and in reality neither you or Ben had much of a chance to make it out this revenge mission alive. But if there was something you knew for sure, it was that you would die before you let anything happen to Ben again. Deep down, you hoped he would do the same for you. 

"I'm gonna go check the area before we go in, make sure there aren't any surprises." Butcher announced after a minute or two of waiting, Hughie not being back yet. He started walking, but not before turning to glance at you both with narrowed eyes, "And you two behave, last time I left you cunts alone you broke a bathroom." 

You did a mocking salute to him and snorted when he rolled his eyes at you, grumbling something you didn't quite hear as he began to walk away. He was out of your sight pretty quickly and you could already feel Ben's intense gaze burn on your face. You ignored it at first, but when he stood in front of you, eyes never leaving you, you had no choice but to look at him. You stopped your fidgeting and you looked up at him expectantly as you leaned back against a tree.

"I don't need to read your mind to know you want to tell me something, what's up?" 

"What you said back at the motel, did you mean it?" He questioned, leaning close to your face as he placed a hand beside your head. You stared at him for a second, trying to dig in your mind for whatever it was that he meant. You found his green eyes and you realized. 

Ah. The three fucking words. 

"Seriously Ben?" You groaned, your head falling to the side with annoyance, but more of all you wanted to avoid his gaze, avoid the shame of having confessed your deepest feelings, knowing feelings wasn't something either of you ever talked about let alone ever admitted to. Because feelings meant vulnerability, and vulnerability meant weakness. And weakness wasn't something either of you would ever admit to.

He grabbed your chin, grip tight as he forced you to look at him, "Did you? ‘Cause I meant what I said, all of it." 

Your face softened and your lips slightly curved into a tiny smile. You never wanted to search his mind without his permission, it was like a line you never liked to cross, but you didn't need to this time. Just by looking into his eyes you always knew. You could tell a lot by looking into someone’s eyes. You searched his eyes for any kind of deceit or even manipulation, but you didn't find any. You knew what he meant, and coming from him, it meant everything. 

"Yeah," You sighed softly, "I meant what I said." 

"Good." His pink lips curved into a satisfied smirk as he squeezed your face and leaned down, capturing your lips into his own. It was slower, no rushed and desperate touches like before, but he still kissed you hard. There was nothing gentle about it, but was there ever anything gentle about him? 

His tongue slipped into your mouth as he dropped his hand, resting it on the column of your neck. He pressed his armored chest against yours, pretty much pinning you against the tree. His mouth was so skilled, like he knew exactly how to take your breath away in seconds, he knew you that well. You would never allow a man to have this much control over you. But it was always different with him. Your hands found his long strands as you explored his mouth, and you pulled hard. You felt him groan against your mouth and he squeezed your neck in response. You gasped, the sound quickly fading into a soft moan. He pulled back and watched with amusement the look of pure ecstasy on your face as he squeezed your throat. 

"You fucking slut, you still get off to me hurting you, don't you?" He bit his lip as he released your throat, thumb brushing over the skin he knew would bruise, just like everybody else's, even if it was for a little bit. 

You inhaled deeply, the short lack of airflow making you dizzy, but in the most delicious way possible. You opened your eyes, finding his green ones and god you wished nothing but to just ditch the mission and go somewhere where he could take you, over and over again. 

"Are we here to get revenge or are we here to get your dick wet? ‘Cause I'm getting some real mixed signals here." You mumbled, breath heavy and he chuckled. He leaned down, pressing his lips to your jaw before he moved them to your ear. 

"I'm gonna fuck you so hard I'm gonna break a hell of a lot more than just a mirror." He coaxed. The way he spoke in your ear made you rub your thighs together and the pool forming in your panties was impossible to ignore. It was embarrassing how quickly he could pull you apart and do with you what he pleased. "When we get back. Now pull yourself together, we're on a mission." 

And just like that he was standing a few feet away from you. He was looking behind his shoulder, almost as if he could hear someone. And of course, just in time for you to somewhat regain your composure, Butcher came back. Though it wasn't before you locked eyes with Ben one more time as you tried to control your breathing, and the cocky bastard winked at you, lips curled into a shit eating grin before Butcher actually approached you both. 

This motherfucker. 

"All clear. The twins are in there. You shouldn't have a problem going in," He said to Ben, but then looked at you, "You, though, you might get some attention. Pretty girl, dressed in black leather and strapped with knives, that's some BDSM shit if I've seen one." 

"Okay and?" You frowned, now standing by both men.

"Just stay close to him, people might recognize you and approach you. Do what you can to keep a low profile. You might have to get your hands a bit dirty." He looked between you and Ben. You stared at him with a small frown at first, but when he raised his eyebrows at you, you quickly realized what he meant. 

"Wouldn't be the first time." Ben commented with a chuckle when he caught on. You looked at him, slightly unimpressed by his lack of discretion but you simply rolled your eyes. 

Butcher sighed heavily, clearly done with your antics by then and he simply motioned you off with an unimpressed expression, "Off you go, ya dirty cunts." 

"Looks like you might get your dick wet after all." You commented to Ben as you both headed off to the house. 

He chuckled, shooting you a glance as you stood in front of the door. You were both eager to get this over with, you more than him. It was one thing for him to be able to face the assholes that betrayed him, and you were happy to do it with him. But the idea of being around dozens of supes, in an environment where there were no rules, no respect and no boundaries, made you uneasy. You didn't know if you could handle that many voices all at once. It had been a long time since you had been around other Supes, let alone that many, and you had made that decision for a reason. 

Almost as if he could feel the anxiety radiate from you, you felt a large hand fill your own. Confused, you looked down and saw he had intertwined his fingers with your own. "There's nothing to be nervous about, sweetheart, it wouldn't be the first time we do this." 

"I haven't been around other supes since…" You inhaled deeply, your throat slightly closing up at the memory. The last time you stepped foot at Vought Tower, when you realized you couldn't do it anymore. Ben looked at you, eyebrows slightly knitted into a frown, "It's been a long time is all." 

"Just stay by my side, nobody will lay a hand on you. I'll always protect you, remember?" He gave your hand a slight squeeze and the calm yet assertive ring in his voice made you feel almost at ease. Almost. 

You stayed silent, needing all your energy and focus to keep the dozens of voices beginning to infiltrate your mind one by one. The sound of Ben speaking as a very naked man opened the door sounded far, distant, you didn't catch much of what they said. You only knew to move when you felt Ben tug you along. Now the sound of your racing heart was almost as loud as the voices. So fucking many people here. So many Supes. So many voices. All at once. It was deafening. It disgusted you, to have to hear every passing thought these depraved beings had. You didn’t realize you started digging your blunt nails into Ben’s gloves.

It didn’t hurt, but your enhanced strength definitely made him feel the tightening grip of your shaking hands. He stopped and looked at you with a twisted frown.

“The fuck is wrong with you now? You look like you saw your father.” 

You eyes snapped up to find him looking back at you with both confusion, and his version of concern. You opened your mouth but you could only stammer but no words actually came out. You couldn’t think. It was so loud. Your lip quivered ever so slightly as you felt your chest start to grow heavy. Ben saw the look on your face, the way your eyes were frantically looking around the room, your jaw wound up so tight he thought you’d break it. The last time he saw you like this was when you first joined Payback and didn’t have full control of your abilities. 

“Stop that, right now.” He gripped your shoulders hard, really fucking hard, enough to make you shift your focus on him for a moment. You looked at him with wide eyes. “Hey, I need you to focus. Get your head under control. I need you to have my back here, okay?”

“I… I don’t.. I can’t get them to stop. They won’t stop.” You said, so close to being on the verge of tears. “There’s so many, I can’t get them to shut the fuck up. I--” 

“Hey,” He shook you ever so slightly, leaning in close to your face. “The fuck did I just say? Get. yourself. Together. You used to tune ‘em out, remember? So tune them out.” 

You breathed in, your chest rising as you tried to drown out the noise, focus on his face, on his voice. But you couldn’t. You hadn’t been around this many people in nearly a decade.

“I can’t. I just can’t. I can’t be here. I’m sorry.” You shook your head frantically and tried to slip out of his grip but he didn’t let you. 

“I need you here. Just—hey,” he grabbed your jaw, looking out of the corner of his eyes to make sure you weren’t bringing in too much attention before he met your teary eyes. “Just look at me. I’m right here. Remember you used to tune everyone else out and only focus on my voice, hm? Focus on my thoughts, okay? It’s just you and me, fuck everyone else.” 

You stared at him, the green in his eyes seeming more and more green the longer you looked. You even saw a ring yellow in there. His voice. His thoughts, they had always calmed you, centered you. The voices grew more and more distant the longer you looked at him. You listened to his voice as his thoughts became your own. Until only the sound of his voice was in your head. Your breath was shaky as you closed your eyes, a laugh of relief leaving your lips.

He held your face for a little longer, his deep frown less harsh as he watched your face slowly visibly relax and the tension left your body.

“Are we good?”

“Yeah, we’re good.” You exhaled deeply and nodded at him, feeling like you were slowly regaining control of yourself. “Let’s go find the terror twins.” 

You walked around this house for what felt like hours. But it didn’t help that you were being stopped every five minutes by every naked Supe you walked by. Ben was anything but amused.

“I swear to fucking Christ if one more of these slimy jizz-covered fuck faces asks you to use your knives on them I will actually shove my shield up their ass.” Ben grumbled with a look of disgust on his face.

“They’d probably like that.” You had to bite your lip to stop yourself from laughing at the death glare he shot you.

“Eat shit.” You actually snorted this time, and you were full on giggling when he started mumbling curses at you as he walked off. 

You ultimately decided splitting up was probably the way to go, the house was way too big and had too many rooms, you’d find the twins quicker if you each went your own way. Ben was reluctant at first, a bit apprehensive to leave you on your own after you almost broke down earlier. But you reassured him you were fine and perfectly capable of going on your own. You ultimately realized you made the right choice. You didn’t know exactly when or how but out of nowhere you heard a loud blast in the next room and you were launched right through a wall from the blast. Pain immediately started shooting through your body at the impact. You were a Supe, sure, but you weren’t Soldier Boy, you weren’t fucking invincible. You bled and you felt pain like any human. 

It took you a good minute to understand what the actual fuck had just happened. And when you did, you almost forgot about the throbbing pain going through your body. You pushed yourself up to your feet, stumbling and holding on to walls as you dragged yourself through the rubble and burned bodies. Your jaw slightly fell open at the sight of this much mayhem. You didn’t believe in God, but fuck were you praying to a higher power for Ben to be okay. 

You managed to stay on your feet despite the pain. It would go away eventually, in a day or so, but the first few hours were brutal. Still you pushed through, determined to find Ben. You stumbled into a hallway, the walls were falling apart and chunks of cement were all around the floor. But what caught your attention was the sight that fucking American flag and blonde head of hair you had grown to despise. Your heart stopped, you were frozen. You held your breath as you realized fucking Homelander was here. And he currently had Ben pinned to a wall.

This was such a bad fucking idea. You could die a very agonizing death. A bad idea indeed. 

Adrenaline kicked in, you sprinted and with a bit of momentum you landed on Homelander’s shoulders. You were surprised he didn’t hear you coming.You were thankful he was preoccupied with Ben. Your nails dug into the side of his temples and you used all of the energy and power you had coursing through your veins, and sent that straight to his brain.

You weren’t sure if it would even tickle. You tried using your shock powers on Ben once, a long time ago, just to test out how it worked on Supes with enhanced strength, he said it felt like being electrocuted. And right about now you were praying Homelander felt something, enough to stun him at least. You could kill an average Supe if you used enough power, but you weren’t so sure if you were strong enough.

You held on, but you were struggling, commanding your body to release this much energy was mentally exhausting but the sound of Homelander groaning in pain made you smile the slightest bit. The shocks of electricity weren’t going to kill him, but it sure did hurt, and it stunned him. Nobody’s brain was invisible afterall. 

“Hurts, doesn’t it motherfucker? Your body may be indestructible but your mind can only take so much before it breaks.” You spat. Sparks were coming from your fingers as your eyes flashed bright purple. “It’s fucked when its you being held down against your will, huh?”

He screamed, stumbling around as he attempted to grab at you, but this wasn’t the first time you tried to fry someone’s brain off while on their shoulders. You gasped when you saw his laser eyes go off as he screamed, leaving indents on the wall. This split second of distraction was enough to make your focus falter, and it gave Homelander the opportunity to find a grip on you. You cried in pain when he grabbed your ankle and tossed you off. 

You landed fucking hard, it knocked the air right out of your lungs. You coughed as you attempted to get up, but Homelander was grabbing you and pulling you up by your neck before you could blink. He held you up in the air as he levitated so you couldn’t find a way to escape. He held you at arm’s length so you couldn’t reach him, either. The way his empty, ice cold eyes stared you down with evil glee as you gasped for air was terrifying. 

“I always knew you were a fucking bitch. I should’ve killed you when I had the chance. Matter of fact, I’ll do that right now.” Your eyes widened when his eyes gleamed bright red. 

Out of the corner of your eye you saw Ben behind Homelander, with a grin as he grabbed Homelander’s cape and pulled down, and he pulled really fucking hard. Your body collided with the ground roughly, landing on your side with a pained cry. But you still saw Ben throw Homelander around by his cape, and had you not been mere seconds away from death, you would have laughed at the comedic irony. You were in and out of consciousness, an aura surrounding your vision. But in between your delirium you could see Butcher and Hughie had arrived, and the three of them were taking on Homelander. It wasn’t long before the three of them had Homelander pinned down. You could feel yourself fade, your muscles give out and your mind shut off. You hadn’t used that much power since you were in Payback. 

You heard indistinct voices and shouting before everything went black. 

“The fuck are you waitin’ for? Blast this cunt!” Butcher shouted and Ben grunted.

“I can’t! Just—Fuck.” His eyes found you in the corner, bloodied and passed out. You couldn’t run away and you wouldn’t survive the blast, he knew that. “You—kid, take her, and get out here. Now!”

“No fucking way!” Hughie shouted back, and Ben felt the urge to blast him instead. 

“Do what he says, take the fuckin’ girl and go!” Butcher shouted at Hughie, catching on to what Ben was trying to do. But before any of them could do anything, Homelander blasted his lasers, screaming as he overpowered the three of them while they were distracted. And just like that he was gone. 

The three men sat in silence, in defeat. They had a chance and they blew it. Ben knew it was mostly his fault, he shouldn’t have hesitated. But he refused to ever let you get hurt. In silent anger he glared at both of them and he stood and walked over to your passed out body. He clenched his jaw as he picked your limp body and carried you. He made eye contact with Butcher and Hughie and it took all of his power not to shoot both of them in the face. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Your whole body ached, and your head was founding. It was unbearable. You winced in pain as you began to peel layers of clothes off your body. God it fucking hurt. You closed your eyes as you attempted to hold back tears, only snapping back into reality when you felt Ben trace his fingers over your back. He noted every bruise and every cut. He knew they would heal, sure but it still made him seethe with anger. 

“What the fuck were you thinkin’, taking on Homelander like that? Did all the fucking pills you take for your psychosis fry all of your neurons or what?” He was so angry, and he never was exactly kind with his words. You always knew that, but it still hurt when he talked to you that way, especially when you had only been trying to help him. 

Your back was turned to him, so he couldn't see the hurt frown on your face but he did notice you huff at him and move away from his touch, refusing to look at him. 

“Okay.. Hey, no. I didn’t.. I didn’t mean it like that. Fuck.” He bit his tongue, squeezing his eyes shut with regret of his choice of words. You kept your back to him as you continued to undress. He groaned. “You would have died. And it would have been on me. I couldn’t live with that, is all.” 

“Well, I was passed out so it would have been a quick death, if that's of any consolation to you.” You answered shortly as you stripped down to your underwear. You don't think he understood that you stopped caring whether you lived or died a long time ago. 

“Okay, could you not be a bitch for two seconds?” He sighed, already annoyed by your attitude. 

“No. If you want a girl who doesn't talk back to you, go find Countess. Oh, wait, you can't ‘cause she sold you to the Russians. Guess you're stuck with me.” You answered with even more spitefulness, just to tick him off a little bit more. You didn't need to read his mind to know he was beyond pissed. You weren't exactly in a colorful mood, either. Your back was still turned to him as you tossed your bloodied gear in a corner. 

He breathed in deeply, pitching the bridge of his nose, “Violet, look at me when I'm talking to you.” 

You turned around with exasperation, your eyes open wide with a ‘what’ expression as you motioned your hands around passive-aggressively. 

“I didn't mean what I said. I know you were trying to help me… And I know that you can't always control your powers. I sometimes can't deal with my own head, I can't imagine having to deal with everybody else's.” Ben wasn't one to apologize. He was actually allergic to the words I'm sorry. You knew that. But you knew he at least tried to apologize using other words. So you listened. You knew he was having a hard time, too. “But I'm not really one to talk. I think I'm the one that's fucked in the head.” 

Your lips slightly parted at his words and you looked at him with a tiny bit of sadness. You never asked him details of what happened to him. Sure, you could look, but you never wanted to dig through his mind without his permission. He'd tell you if he really wanted to. But you didn't need to know everything to understand that what he went through messed him up. And it messed him up a lot. What happened at Herogasm was proof of that. 

“Do you want to tell me what happened at Herogasm? Don't make me look through your head, I don't want to.” You sighed softly, ultimately giving in, like you always did. Your delicate fingers dragged over his vest as you absentmindedly began to take off his gear. 

Ben stayed silent for a long time. He didn't think he even knew what happened. You were down to the last layer of the top part of his suit by the time he opened his mouth. 

“I blacked out. I don't.. I don't know what the fuck happened. I was talking to the fuck twins and then nothing. Next thing I remember is the burned bodies and the place was all fucked up.” He breathed out a little unevenly, a frown knitted deep on his face. He looked down at you when you stayed silent. “I didn't mean to. You believe that, right?” 

You did. But did he? 

“Of course I believe you.” You pressed a soft kiss to his lips, hands flat on his chest. He brought one of his hands to the back of your hair, holding your head in place. After a few seconds, you hummed, parting your lips slightly. “Can I ask you a question?” 

He nodded. 

“Why didn't you kill Homelander? You had a shot. Why didn't you take it? You would have done the whole fucking world a favor.” 

Ben stared at you with confusion. Did you really not get it? Were you that clueless or was he just that bad at showing his devotion for you? Probably the latter. 

“You saw what my blast did to the house. You wouldn't have survived that. I should have, I know, Butcher won't stop fucking reminding me. But he has nothing left to lose. Can't kill two girlfriends in the same week, y'know?” 

Your mouth fell open with indignation and you shoved at his chest, but deep down you felt warm at the fact that he chose you over his mission, for once. You still pretended to be angry at him, though. “Fucking prick.” 

He brought his lips to your jaw, leaving blunt kisses and you pretend to hate it. But the smile on your face was inevitable. 

“Wanna shower now or what?” He eventually said. That was the reason you were in the bathroom after all. 

You nodded. You could use the hot water on your bruised skin. You finished stripping, Ben just watched you with a perverted grin and smacked your ass before he stripped himself. 

He got in first, turning on the water and letting it run until steam began to fill the small space. He knew you liked it boiling hot. He didn't mind. You got in and immediately went under the shower head. You moaned in relief, the hot water running down your tense muscles, alleviating the soreness on your body. Ben watched you with a surprising amount of patience as he stood behind you. He leaned down and pressed his soft lips behind your neck, licking along the skin before he moved down your neck to your shoulder. He rested his hands on your hips, squeezing the skin as lightly as he could. You had enough bruises for one day. 

“I'm gonna take care of you tonight, m’kay?” He mumbled against your skin before he made you turn around. 

He crashed his lips against yours, rough fingers gripping your jaw as he slipped his tongue into your mouth. You whined, already craving more. When he kissed you like this, you just couldn't help yourself. 

“Need you, please.” You were breathless against his lips, your blunt nails digging into his chest desperately. He gave your bottom lip a small tug as he pulled away. 

He made you stand in front of him, his back to the shower wall as he slowly sank to his knees. Your eyes followed him longingly.

“C'mere.” He pulled you towards him, his eyes were full of greed as he made eye contact with you while he directed you to rest one of your feet on his shoulder. 

His eyes stayed locked with yours as leaned forward and licked a long stripe from your hole up to your clit. He wrapped his lips around the bud and sucked. You gasped, instantly pressing your hand against the damp wall to keep yourself up. Your mouth fell open in delight as he dragged his tongue around your sensitive clit. 

“O-Oh. Shit. Shit, Ben.” You whined softly, your free hand falling to his wet hair. He held your hip with one hand, steady vice grip holding you in place as he pushed his tongue into your hole. You swore the cry you let out was heard in the entire apartment. “Oh, my God. Fuck. That feels so good.” 

Ben hummed in approval as you wrapped your fingers around his hair and held his face against you. As if he would go anywhere. He happily kept his mouth on you, head moving up and down as he worked you with his tongue, his nose brushing your clit with every movement of his head. To say that you were so close was an understatement. You could feel your leg start to give out under you the longer you felt that heat build in your stomach. Ben was more than happy to assist you with that, too. His free hand grabbed the underside of your thigh and forced you further against his mouth until your leg was dangling over his shoulder. His other hand stayed on your hip, vice grip holding you upright effortlessly. 

His tongue found your clit one more time, and the emptiness it left was replaced by two long fingers pushing into your cunt. Your eyes rolled back as your mouth fell open in a silent cry. You leaned your forehead against the tile as you dug your nails into his scalp. Fuck, you didn't remember the last time a man ate you out, let alone ate you out like this. It felt so good you wanted to cry, you didn't even remember the pain in your body, all you could feel was pleasure. 

“Feels good, doesn't it sweetheart?” He spat into your clit as he fucked you with his fingers. If the shower hadn't been running the lewd sound of his fingers dragging in and out of your wet hole would've been so loud. But he could still hear it, and fuck did he love it. He took a second to look up at you. Such a pretty little thing when you were so close. “Oh, you wanna come don't you? Mhmm, yeah, you do. C'mon, gimme what I want. I know you can do it.” 

His tongue was back on your clit, he licked harsh stripes as he slipped his thick fingers in and out of your cunt with urgency. The sounds of him licking and sucking on your clit were almost as filthy as the sounds coming out of your mouth. His fingers fucked you without mercy, there was not a single thing gentle about his touch. It was rough and relentless. Just like he was. And it had you seeing fucking white before you even realized. 

You squeezed your eyes shut, lips parting in a silent cry as you held his face against you. But it wasn't like he'd go anywhere, if anything he kept his tongue on your swollen clit and his fingers never stopped. Tears formed in your eyes as your thighs shuddered. And when he didn't stop you were pulling at the ends of his hair to pull him off you. He groaned at this. Quite unhappy to be leaving the warm place between your thighs. 

“I wasn't done.” He looked up at you with a frown. You took in a deep breath, blowing out a small laugh as you grabbed at his face, weakly attempting to pull him back up.

“You can be down there all you want later, I just..” You swallowed hard, somewhat regaining your composure as he stood up to his full height. You pulled him down by his face and kissed him, and you kissed him fucking hard. And the taste of yourself still left on his tongue made you need him even more. “Just need you, okay?” 

“Need me where?” He grabbed your jaw, fingers sprawled out over your throat as he held your face back. He stared you down, malicious eyes full of greed as he waited for your answer. And he wouldn't give you anything until you did.

“Inside me.” You muttered through gritted teeth, almost delirious as you rubbed your thighs together with anticipation. He didn't look satisfied. You breathed in deeply, the aching need between your legs unbearable. “Need your cock, inside me, right now, Ben.” 

He lifted his eyebrows up in satisfaction and gave you a simple hum before he switched positions with you, without a word pressing your front against the shower wall. 

“I fuck you once and you're already acting like a pathetic whore? Okay. But you better fucking take my cock like the good fuck doll you've always been, hm?” He kicked your legs apart with his knee, his back pressing you further into the wall as he pressed the head of his cock against your entrance. You took a deep breath. “Yeah, you're gonna take this cock like a good lil’ fuck doll.” 

You gasped when he pushed himself inside with a snap of his hips, but it quickly turned into a moan when he pushed himself to the hilt, hips rutting against your ass. You dug your nails into nothing as you closed your eyes, taking in the delicious feeling of his thick cock stretching your walls.

“What a tight fucking cunt.” He grunted, gripping your hips, not wasting any time. He barely gave you time to adjust. “So fucking wet. Just for me, huh?” 

You were nodding against the wall instantly, pushing your ass back against him as he fucked you without mercy. You felt his lips on your shoulder as he leaned over you. The lewd sound of slapping skin was drowned out by the shower running but you could hear it clear as fucking day. 

“Yes! Mhmm feels so good.” You moaned softly, mindlessly reaching behind you to touch him, any part of him. Your fingers found his beard as you ran your hand over his face desperate to feel him, then you found his hair, and you latched on for dear life as he drilled into you. 

“Yeah? Like how my cock feels in your guts? You missed it, didn't you?” He pressed the side of his face into your head, allowing himself to close his eyes and soak the feeling of your nails on his scalp, he could even feel the faintest bit of electricity shooting through your fingers. He fucking loved it. 

“Yes! God yes.” You couldn't even describe how much. 

Ben smirked at this as he wrapped his arm over your chest and his fingers found your throat. He forced your head back, making you look at him. 

“Open your mouth,” He ordered, he held his finger to your pulse as he felt the fast rate of your heartbeat. You did as he said, and with a huff he spat in your mouth. “Slut. Swallow it.” 

How he could so easily break you down to nothing and treat you like no other man could, truly was beyond your understanding. But your mind didn't have to understand it. Your body just did it. You felt a pool of wetness seep through you at the damn near animalistic groan that rumbled in his throat. 

“You're such a good fucking girl.” He spat, pressing his lips against yours in a messy filthy kiss. You could barely keep your mouth open, not with the way he was so determined to make you fall apart for him. “You're my good fucking girl.” 

“I want to come. Please I—fuck.”  Your words were broken as your whole body burned up, and it wasn't from the hot water. 

“Of course, you do. It just feels so good, doesn't it?” He squeezed your throat harder, only choked out sounds could leave your mouth as he slipped his other hand to your swollen clit and rubbed harsh circles. 

Your orgasm hit you so hard you didn't realize it until you were shaking violently, your eyes rolled back into your head as you fucked yourself on his cock. Not that he ever stopped. He moaned loudly at the feeling of your wetness seeping on him. The wet sound of his cock slapping against your cunt made him want to come, too. 

“Fuck. Fucking Christ Violet. C'mon, make me come. Fuck yourself on my cock just like that. Be a good fuck doll for me, that's it.” His hand left your throat to pull at your hair. He dug his fingers deep into your scalp as his face fell on your shoulder. With a deep grunt he held you down on him. “Fucking take it, that's it, girl. Just like that. Fuck.” 

You could feel your mixed releases slip down your thigh. You sighed deeply, allowing yourself to close your eyes in ecstasy as he pressed his lips to your jaw. You hummed softly, reaching behind you to run your fingers through your hair. 

“I never want to leave this cunt. Feels so fucking good.” He muttered against your skin. 

You laughed softly, eyes still closed, you breathed heavily, “You're gonna have to eventually.” 

“Like fuck I am.” 

Both of his hands were on your hips and he turned you around. You whimpered softly at the emptiness he left you, but it was quickly replaced by choked out gasp when he grabbed both of your thighs and effortlessly hoisted you up around his waist. Your back was pressed against the tile wall and he slipped his cock inside you without a warning.

“Ben—” 

“You wanted my cock inside you? Well you better fucking take all of it. Every fucking inch ‘til I say so. You want it, don't you?” He spat, already fucking into you like you were nothing more than a toy. He held you up by your thighs as he kept them wide open so he could take as much as he wanted. And that he did. “Of course you do, this cunt is all mine to with as I fucking want. That ain't never gonna change.” 

What a long fucking night you were going to have. But you'd take a million of this over another day without him in your life. And this? This was all you ever wanted. You didn't need anything else, just him.

[parfaitblogs]

peace ❀ s. reid x reader

in which you self isolate, and spencer knows better than to let it get too bad. 

pairing: spencer reid x reader genre: hurt/comfort tags: established relationship. suicide ideation? ("i want it to end"). depression. lots of stuff that coincides with that. brief mention of reader not eating/having no food. please be aware of your triggers. i think i mention reader as a girl somewhere? word count: 1.9k a/n: i finished this then relistened to peace (taylor swift) which was the og inspo for this, and added a section in the middle so if it feels weird its because i failed at integrating it! this was supposed to be out two days ago. all my relationship insecurities in a fic. lol how embarrassing here's my heart tumblr dot com!! anyways enjoy ily all

also posted here on my ao3 !

Three consistent raps against your front door was the only sound that got you up that day, pyjamas that you had not shed from your body in a week hanging off a frame that could probably be described as lifeless — with the nearly dead-looking face to match.

In fact, the only thing to prove you were still a living human being aside from your movement, was the pink hue around your eyes, on your nose, and above your lips, indicating how much you had cried recently. 

Usually, it isn't this bad. You just need a day or two of rotting in your apartment and doing nothing but scrolling on your phone until it died, staring at the wall, or — on the better days — watching reruns of a 90s sitcom that you don't really watch. 

But it was exceptionally bad this time around, for some odd reason, and not one part of you actually wanted to get up and out of bed for long enough to be productive about your day. Your phone had died again, after charging it two days ago, which meant you were on day six of no communication with anybody. Which might partly be why it was so bad now. 

You had a blanket wrapped around your body, dragging against the floor as you wiped your eyes and let out a small sigh, unlocking your front door and opening it, completely unsurprised by the person standing on the other side. 

He was the only one who ever paid enough attention to your disappearing act when you were like this. 

His eyes softened at the sight of you — which is kind of amusing, considering you thought you looked like death reincarnate currently. 

Neither of you said anything as you stepped aside to allow him in, the door clicking shut behind him as he placed down the leather bag he had slung over his body, turning back to you as he finally allowed the frown to appear — one you knew he would've had the entire way here.

"Have you eaten today?" was the first thing to break the silence — the question coming out so gentle you were sure you'd break down again at some point in the next few seconds. 

You wordlessly shook your head, and he nodded his own, saying nothing else as he walked into your kitchen, knowing you'd trail behind him no matter what. 

He opened your fridge first, before closing it when he was greeted with the alarming sight of nothing. Doing the same with your pantry, at which he turned around to look at you.

"Angel, you have no food," he said. And while it held no malice in the tone of his voice, you could tell he was slightly annoyed at the fact. Your heart ached. 

"I know. I'm sorry," you mumbled, and his eyebrows creased inwards. 

He didn't mention your apology — arguing with you about your vast use of 'sorry's' is futile. "Do you want a pizza?" he asked instead, and even though you, mentally, did not, you knew he wasn't actually asking. So you only nodded your head, and found a place at your countertop, the blanket falling from your body and pooling to the ground in a heap.

He ordered a pizza, and then he was nudging your knees apart, standing between them while you stayed sat on a stool, his chin atop your head, that was buried into his chest. 

And he said nothing, as he held you like that until the pizza arrived. And then he ensured you had at least eaten two slices, the remainders going in your fridge for the next meal you needed to eat. 

He was so kind to you, with his every movement, as he dragged you into the bathroom to help you shower. 

It was heartbreaking, the love you could see in his eyes. The tenderness in every stroke of his fingers against your scalp as he washed your hair, the softness in his touch as he did the same to your body. He gently dried you, told you to stay there, disappeared, and returned with one of his many t-shirts left in your apartment drawers. 

That was when you cracked. When he pulled the shirt over your head, that smelled so painfully Spencer and you. The mix of his clean scent and your own laundry detergent that you were so accustomed to, triggering something in you.

So, you crumpled to the floor of your bathroom, and he followed soon after, his arms wrapped around your body once more, firm enough to keep you still as you sobbed into his chest. 

You weren't sure how long you stayed like that for. Long enough for your head to hurt, and your eyes to sting, and hideous snot bubbles to stain his cardigan. 

When your sobs subsided, he spoke. 

"You wanna talk about it?" he said, quietly, and you shook your head. 

"Don't know what to talk about," you mumbled, and he knew that all too well.

He nodded his own head. "Did something happen?"

"Lots of little things."

"Yeah? You wanna tell me about them?"

You hesitated, because you didn't know where to begin. But then you nodded your head wordlessly, swallowing the lump — and, by extension, the sob — in your throat. "I fell down on the stairs at the train station in front of everybody. And then I missed my stop, and I was late to work. And I had a huge project due, but I didn't finish it, and I forgot I hadn't finished it, and I was anxious about it all day. And I think my friends are just pretending to be my friends, because I keep trying to make plans with one of them, and she keeps blowing me off for her boyfriend. And I'm just really sick of being sad all the time, Spencer. I want it to end."

With the onslaught of your bad vignettes throughout the past month coming back up, you broke down, again. Another sob escaping your lips as you pushed your fists down into the tops of his thighs.

If it hurt, he didn't say anything; simply continued to hold you against his chest, on the floor of your bathroom, that, if it were any other time, he would be having a field day rambling about the germs you both were currently sitting on. 

He also didn't say anything for a while as you sobbed, instead his fingers entangled gently in your hair, and he peppered kisses along the top of your head. 

"I don't want it to end for you," he finally said. His hands slid down from your scalp to your face, holding your cheeks with such tender, pulling you back so he could look at you. 

You sniffled. "I'm so exhausted."

"I know, my love. I know," he sighed, thumbs caressing over your cheekbones. "Ending it won't fix that. You know, logically, however you die is the state you'll be in, in the afterlife. So if you die while you're exhausted..."

"You don't believe in the afterlife," you answer, but his words still cracked through your tearful expression, and your lips twitched with a small smile. 

He returned the small smile, nodding his head. "That's true. But I also don't know anything about post-death. I could be wrong."

"How terrible," you mutter, and he laughed, quietly. 

"I know," he mused, falling silent for a few moments longer, with only both of your quiet breathing to break the silence. 

His fingers ran through your hair once more, and you sniffled audibly, your brain wandering away from the small content you had felt in that exchange, and back to one of the many reasons why you had isolated in the first place. 

"Why are you still with me?" you said, slicing through the silence all at once. 

You watched the smile fall, and his eyebrows furrowed, and his lips part as he went — and hesitated — to say something. "What do you mean?"

"I'm difficult." Your voice is impossibly small, and it breaks a crack in his heart as his eyes soften. 

"No. You're not," he reassured. 

"Yes I am," you breathed out — and then the tears came back. "I get sad and then I stop responding and stop seeing you, and you don't get any warning even though I know you should, and I feel so awful every time but then that makes me feel worse. And I'm sad all the fucking time, Spencer. I mean, I get upset when you aren't at home and you have to deal with all those messages and calls even though you hate texting, but then you get home and I'm isolating myself because I'm sad, on top of all the other things that make me sad, and you deserve better. You deserve someone who can give you their all and—and—"

"Hey," he cut you off, as did the sob that was ripped from your throat. "No. That's not what we're going to do. Do not sit there and tell me what I do and don't deserve." 

"But you do deserve better."

"No," he sighed, resting his forehead on your own, warm breath fanning across your face that usually made you scrunch your face up and pull away, now comforting you. "Do you love me?"

"What? Yes, of course I do. Why would you even—"

"—That is the only requirement I have for you," he said, oh so simply. When you didn't reply, he pressed, "Okay?"

"Okay," you murmured, and he relaxes a little.

More silence fell between you, your tears subsiding and your shaking body relaxing a little more. 

Then, "Did you hurt yourself when you fell down?"

You nodded your head, reluctantly pulling back from him so you could show him. You pointed to a yellowing bruise just below your knee, and the grazes on the bottom halves of your palms. 

"Oh, wow. Look at these," Spencer said, running a thumb gently over the grazes on your hands. "You're braver than me. These would've taken me out."

You laughed, and you saw his face light up at the progress he was making with you, and your mood. 

He then pulled you back into his chest. More silence, but less anxiety, and you sat comfortably in his arms for a few moments longer. 

"Did I worry you?" you say. "Not responding?"

You were so close to him you could hear his breath hitch, and you prepared yourself for a lie about how he wasn't worried at all. Except; "Honestly? Yes."

"Oh."

He exhaled, shakily, and you were kind of glad he couldn't see your sadder expression, half-buried into his chest. 

"You've never gone that long without checking in," he then explained. "The first two days I got what was going on. By the fourth I figured you still needed space. Today I just had a gut feeling."

"Just a gut feeling?" you echoed, and you felt his head nod against your own. 

"Thought you might need someone."

You sighed. "I hate that you're a genius."

"No you don't."

"No, I don't."

His fingers entangled in your hair again. "I also didn't figure you needed me here because I'm a genius."

"No? Then how?" you asked.

"It's simple," he murmured, tugging your head back oh so gently so he could look at you again — puffy eyed, and tear-stained cheeks and all. "I just know."

"That's the most illogical sentence I've ever heard leave your mouth."

He laughed, and you smiled again.

"Come on," he then said, untangling your limbs and pulling the both of you up to your feet, hands ghosting your waist to hold you steady. "I am willing to sit through whatever awful movie you want me to watch."

your reblogs and replies are always appreciated dearly ♡

[xxchumanixx]

heyy love, could you do a tim bradford x fem reader (she is a officer) where they are married and he is totally whipped for her like he does everything she asked him without hesitance.

like one time (this take place when lucy just had become his rookie not a long time ago) for some reason tim, lucy and reader were patrolling together (lucy or reader was sitting in the backseat of the patrol car) and tim was being kinda harsh on lucy like he always is, so reader told him to be nice and scold him. lucy was trying told back her laugh the whole time.

hope this makes sense 😭

Nice for a price

Tim Bradford x wife!reader

Warnings/Tags: fluff, Tim being grumpy Word count: 482 Authors note: Hey love, thanks for the request! I really like the idea and I hope you'll like how I wrote it. I'm sorry that it's a little short, but I'm a little sick at the moment and I really did my best.

Enjoy!

Sitting in the back of the shop was... weird, to say the least. But Grey had asked you to accompany Tim and his rookie, Lucy, so you didn't have another choice.

Tim was his usual grumpyness, an attitude that you hated. When you were alone together, at home, he was different, like he was another person.

He would be all fluff and cuddles, doing everything you wanted - you just had to ask. Not that you would have let him do everything, but he would have done it without asking questions.

Now, telling Lucy that she should listen more carefully and not frivolously promise a victim to find the bags that had been stolen from her car - a crime that had a solving rate from 0.2% - his voice rose.

"You can't just tell them that you'll find their belongings!" he told her harshly, all the while looking at the street. "To promise a victim something means that they'll be even more disappointed when you can't actually solve the crime, causing them to blame us for it!"

Rolling your eyes you sighed, leaning your head back against the headrest.

You knew how he was with his rookies - hell you'd been his rookie at some point as well - but that didn't mean that you liked his attitude towards them.

"If you-" he wanted to continue, but you cut him off.

"Tim." you warned him, looking at him through the rear view mirror. "What?" he gave back, brows furrowed, as Lucy followed your interaction with great interest.

Giving him a pointed look you crossed your arms above your chest. "She's new, she can't know everything that we do." you told him, brows furrowing as well.

"Maybe, but she has to eventually learn It!" he gave back, shaking his head. "Yes, but you can't expect her not to make mistakes during her first days. So be nice and tell her nicely, to not promise something to a victim and you might get a price for it."

That you meant yourself - naked - as a price, you kept to yourself, even though you knew that he knew what you meant.

Lucy smirked, biting her lip to hold it back, though.

Rolling his eyes Tim huffed and you hit him through the seat. "Ouch!" he made, looking back at you in anger, though it slowly faded at the look you gave him.

"Okay, okay!" he gave in, shooting Lucy a look as she snickered. Covering it up as a cough she tried to avoid another speach.

"But I want my price."

Biting your lip you shook your head at him.

You could see how hard it was for Lucy to hold back the laugh that bubbled up, when Tim looked back at the street.

Smiling you looked out the window, silently laughing to yourself.

You just had to push him a little sometimes.

[slytherinslut0]

MATTHEO RIDDLE- Beg For Me

Chapter Two. Info: You and Mattheo have been butting heads for months, since you were assigned as his tutor, and one day during a session full of tense bickering, he has enough.

(This will essentially be a toxic book where we are Thèos fucktoy. No love here, very minimal fluff.)

Tags: 18+, PURE SMUT, Sub!Reader, Dom!Mattheo, Oral Sex (M Rec), Throat Fucking, Toxic Behaviour, Blackmail, Praise Kink, Degradation Kink, DubCon, CNC.

****Find the rest of the chapters HERE.

"You're fifteen minutes late."

Mattheo rolled his eyes, slumping down in the creaky wooden chair with an exasperated huff, running his tongue over the split-open cut on his lip as he fiddled with the gauze wrapped around his battered knuckles--the fresh blood seeping through the material told you that he had ever-so-shockingly taken part in yet another degenerate fight, this time coincidentally directly before your once-a-week tutor session.

"I'm fine, by the way." He said, not bothering to look at you. "Thanks for asking."

"Why should I?" You tilted your head, already feeling the heat of his suffocating arrogance filling your lungs. "It's not like you've ever cared about my well-being, or as you've so clearly proven today; my time."

Riddle scoffed, rolling his eyes yet again as he ran a hand through his hair. "You sound entitled, princess."

"I sound entitled?" Gods, he was doing it again. He was absolutely getting you fucking going with little to no effort spent. "My dearest apologies, Riddle...I was under the impression that entitlement was believing you can treat people however you like without consequences...silly me."

At your retort, he glimpsed you, pausing all his movements as a sly grin crawled across his face.

"Giving me attitude already, Raven?" He purred, dark eyes slithering down to your lips, before falling lower to your chest, lingering there for far-too-long before they slowly travelled back up to meet your sight.

Throughout all of that, you weren't sure if you'd blinked once--your pulse increasing to a rate so fast you were certain your heart was about to burst from your chest.

Mattheo moistened his lips, his tongue darting out to remove the blood from the split in his lower one.

"...I'd have thought that after our little agreement last week, you'd have come to your senses..."

He leaned forward in his chair, long fingers curling in on his palms and forming tight fists as he rested his hands on top of the desk--eyes darker than the midnight sky as he studied your tensing reaction.

"Would you like to start over? Or perhaps, that filthy fucking mouth of yours needs to be taught a lesson?"

You swallowed, something in your lower abdomen tingling at this words. You shook your head, dropping your eyes to your lap. "I'm sorry."

His eyes lit up. "What was that?" The sadistic arrogance in his tone made you want to scream. "I didn't quite catch what you said."

Your jaw clenched, teeth gritting--Gods, how you wanted to tell him to goto hell; to kick rocks and get the fuck out and never come near you again--but you knew you would never, and could never do such a thing. Instead, you inhaled a sharp breath in through your nose, before slowly releasing it, shooting him the best fake smile you could possibly muster.

"I said, I'm sorry." Your voice was tight, tone as sharp as glass. "Now, can we begin? You're already-"

"No." He said flatly, cutting you off. "I don't accept your apology. I think you need to get on your knees-"

Your jaw dropped at his words, and you involuntarily slammed your hands down on the wooden surface in front of you as you stood up, leaning across the desk towards him. After all these months of sticking your neck out for him, going out of your way to tutor him and attempt to teach him some form of educational material to at least help him fucking graduate on time--he's really going to sit there and degrade you like a piece of shit under his shoe just because you retaliated against his arrogant attitude?

Not going to fucking happen.

"Cut the shit, Riddle." You hissed, leaning down to meet his dark, intoxicating eyes. "You may be in charge here, and I may need you in ways that are entirely taxing to my mental state...but just as much as I need you--you need me, too...so how about you show me some fucking respect?"

At your words, Mattheo's confident facade wavered, only-slightly, his dark eyes widening with surprise as your words pierced through his stoic composure. Blinking, he considered your defiance for a fleeting moment before abruptly standing up, as well--his face, which was usually a mask of calculated control, portrayed a mix of curiosity and smug arrogance.

As he rounded the desk and approached you, his eyes locked onto yours; unyielding and intense--making your entire body freeze in place. The room seemed to hold its breath, the charged silence amplifying the tension between your bodies, as if the very air crackled with anticipation of what would unfold next, your shoulders slouching as he stopped in front of you, tall frame towering over you.

And then, his perfect fucking lips curled into a sly smile.

"Respect? Oh, I respect your desperation, Raven...that's about it..." his voice was slow, calculated, and of course; sadistic. "It would do you well to remember that in this little alliance of ours, I hold the key to your entire fucking future...so, perhaps a little lesson in humility is what you truly need, hm?"

He brought a battered hand up to your face, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear, his head tilting as his dark eyes studied the movement of his fingers.

"How about you show me just how much you respect me...and maybe, just maybe, I'll consider playing nice, yeah?" He paused, his fingers lingering against your skin. "Until then...it seems as though you're at my mercy, little girl."

Your fingers quivered at your sides, your heart pounding in your throat, but you were resolute in not allowing him to win so easily. Despite his immense power over you, giving in without a fight wasn't an option you were willing to entertain. It was times like these where your brash, unyielding nature was both a curse and a source of strength, propelling you toward your demise.

"Not if I goto Dumbledore first..." you whispered, glimpsing his lips. "Not if I tell him that you were entirely uncooperative...defiant...wouldn't be that hard to believe, considering your troublesome track record..."

He huffed, fingers trailing from behind your ear and running along your jawline, his lips parting as he stared, lost entirely in his own little world--until he blinked, meeting your eyes.

"And how would that look on you, Raven? As a future Professor..." he murmured, leaning closer. "Don't you think it would look rather...perturbing, that you weren't able to get me under control? That you weren't able to find some sort of compromise to ensure my cooperation?"

His rugged fingers trailed along the contour of your jaw, finding a firm hold at your chin and sliding underneath it, his thumb caressing your cheek with a touch that held both tenderness and threat. A lump formed in your throat, your lips parting in sheer exasperation as his eyes darkened, their intensity sending shivers down your spine. Your entire body quivered under his grasp as he leaned in, his lips barely grazing your temple.

"You're shaking, Raven..." he purred, hot breath washing over your face as he used his grip on your chin to tug you closer. "Why so nervous, hm? What happened to all that fire you had?"

Your voice faltered, barely a whisper, as you tried to find words under the weight of Mattheo's power.

"I...I'm just..."

You hesitated, unable to meet his intense gaze, your words trailing off into a nervous silence. The sheer dominance he exuded left you speechless, your heart racing, and you struggled to articulate your thoughts, feeling completely overwhelmed and out of your depth.

Mattheo's lips curled into a subtle, self-assured smile as he sensed your growing vulnerability. His eyes, dark and smoldering, held a predatory gleam, and he leaned in closer, his face mere inches from yours, his breath grazing your skin as he revelled in the palpable effect he had on you.

"This vulnerability...it suits you, I must admit..." his voice was a low, seductive murmur, pulling back to meet your eyes. "Don't worry, little Raven...I won't bite...unless you ask me to, of course..."

With an amused huff, he shifted, his lips brushing over your ear, and you pulled your lip between your teeth to restrain a whimper as you felt his free hand move, long fingers ghosting over the fabric of your skirt as he grazed your hip.

"Mattheo, I-" your body reacted in a way you hadn't anticipated, utterly frozen under Mattheo's commanding presence. Desire coursed through your veins, a mixture of fear and a thrilling, unfamiliar attraction, and you struggled to string together a sentence. "I've never-"

"Never what, princess?" He purred, voice reverberating as a deep hum, the seductive pitch doing inexplicable things to your body. "Don't be shy..."

As his grip on your hip tightened, your lungs stalled, a small gasp slipping past your lips; and as though you'd somehow snapped Mattheo out of a hypnotic trance, he pulled back--his widened obsidian eyes meeting yours.

"Holy fuck, Raven, are you a fucking virgin?" His voice was barely above a whisper, the husk of it sparking fire through your veins. "You haven't even kissed someone, have you?"

Embarrassment flooded you, a heat hot enough to melt the Arctic. When you nodded, almost impenetrably; his stare intensified, the excitement practically radiating from his flesh.

"Shit...I'm going to fucking ruin you..." Mattheo's fingers tightened around your jaw, once again tugging you closer--your heart stalled as he crouched down slightly, bringing himself eye-to-eye with you, his face mere centimeters from yours. "That's what you want though, isn't it? I see the way you look at me...I feel the way your body responds to me...even when you fucking despise me..."

Mules of power coursed through Mattheo's fingers as his hand left your hip, snaking around your waist as his eyes scanned your features--watching every single ministration of your face as though he was afraid you'd disappear; as though he'd miss something if he blinked.

"You want this," he whispered, his breath hot against your face. "You've been aching for it ever since we first met...admit it."

Your adrenaline surged. You knew you were playing with fire here, but you couldn't control yourself.

"Don't flatter yourself, Riddle..." you murmured, voice unsteady. "Unlike you I actually harbour a modicum of self control."

Upon your utterance, Mattheo's entire demeanor shifted abruptly--something dark and unsettling creeping behind his eyes. His grip tightened aggressively, applying force with enough intensity to leave bruises.

"There's that mouth again." He growled, his tone dark and rough. "You just can't fucking help yourself, can you?"

You snuffed a gasp as his fingernails dug into your skin, the intensity radiating off his flesh.

"You think you're so fucking smart, hm? Little good girl, top of the class, never stepping out of the lines..." he tilted his head, leaning closer, mouth so close to yours you could practically taste the blood seeping from the cut on his lip. "I'm going to have so much fucking fun with you, Raven...we'll see just how smart you are when you’re on your fucking knees for me like a dumb little whore..."

Your breath was hardly filtering, lungs sputtering. "Mattheo-"

He shifted your body, shoving your ass back against the desk as he pressed himself against you, one hand behind your neck with the other tightly gripping your hip; eyes drunk on a dark hunger--one that intoxicated you without effort.

"That's what I want, Raven...I want you on your knees for me every single week...and in exchange, I'll pay attention to your dumb lessons and make sure I pass...the second I fail to do just that, it all stops, okay?" His voice was tight, focused, but serious--as serious as you've ever fucking heard him. "I won't tell a fucking soul about any of this, and I know you won't either...both of our reputations depend on it..."

Gods, you fucking loved this, even though admitting it felt like peeling away layers of denial--but deep down, you knew the truth, even though it clashed with your feelings of utter disgust and irritation towards Mattheo Riddle. Something about the images swirling inside your mind as you thought about it, thought about the mere prospect of having him at your mercy, his pleasure intertwined with your control, stirred a complex mix of emotions within you.

It was as if a forbidden fascination had taken root, coaxing an unexpected excitement from the depths of your being. If surrendering to this unconventional desire meant he would finally invest effort in your tutor sessions, you found yourself reluctantly willing to explore this uncharted territory.

But not before teasing him a little.

"Don't you have enough girls on their knees for you, Riddle?" You whispered, fingers clutching the desk for dear life. "Do you really need that from me?"

He huffed, amused. "Sure, but those girls expect something from me in return...with you, it'll be all about me and what I fucking want..." he purred, wetting his lips as he glimpsed yours. "I have no interest in taking your virginity, Raven...you can save that for your wedding night, or whatever the fuck it is you're waiting for...I just want those pretty fucking lips...I just want to finally put that annoying mouth of yours to good use..."

Your entire body was vibrating, every word from his mouth did something foreign to you lower abdomen--something you'd never felt nor experienced before. There were so many emotions pummelling through your veins right now; from desire to irritation to defiance to submission--every one melding inside your mind and rendering your mouth utterly mute. You had no idea what to fucking say.

Until Riddle leaned in, closer, his lips brushing over yours. "Do we have a deal?"

You swallowed, your sight flickering from his lips to his eyes and back to his lips, examining all the small cuts and bruises and scars he had peppering his skin. When you nodded, he tightened the grip on the back of your neck, forcing a squeal from deep in your throat.

"Words, Raven," he said sharply. "Use them. I want to hear you say it."

You weren't breathing, you wondered how the fuck you were even conscious. "Yes," you whispered. "We have a deal."

Mattheo exhaled. "Fuck..."

In the span of a single breath, his lips found yours, soft and yielding--conveying a desperate, yet gentle craving. You became a candle, his touch a flame, liquefying you from the core, heat spreading through your every fiber, reaching down to your very toes. He pulled you closer, deepening the kiss, immersing you in a passionate embrace that seemed to defy time itself.

Your mind spun in a whirlwind of realization: this was your first kiss, an intimate moment shared with a boy you openly despised. His lips bore the remnants of alcohol and cigarettes, a taste accentuated by the faint hint of blood. He desired you for a singular purpose, and you saw him merely as a means to solidify your post-graduate fate. Despite the inherent wrongness of the situation, you couldn't summon the care to stop it, succumbing to the inexplicable pull between you two.

His low growl echoed in the charged air as his tongue danced with yours, emboldening you. Your fingers threaded through his thick, curly hair, exploring the contours of his mouth. Meanwhile, his hand roamed up your thigh, tracing your curves until it found the top of your uniform. With a firm grip, he pulled at the fabric, and then, shifted his hand to your wrist, directing it toward the insistent bulge in his pants.

As your fingers grazed it, something surged through you; something suffocating, something intoxicating--and involuntarily, you moaned into his mouth.

"Shit..." he breathed, grip on the back of your neck intensifying. "You feel that, Raven? That's all for you..."

Your breath was shaking, your lungs on fire. You had no idea what was happening to you, you had no idea what you were even thinking, let alone saying--a haze of pleasure and adrenaline and arousal was clouding your cognitive capacity, words spilling from your lips without thought as you squeezed the outline of his dick.

"You're so big..." your voice was a whisper, lesser even. "I-I don't think I'll-"

"You will," his voice cracked, cutting you off, already knowing what you were about to say.

With a smirk, he stepped back slightly, using the hand behind your head to gently guide you toward the floor, a silent yet compelling command. When you met his eyes, a clear nervousness in your expressions, he smirked.

"Don't worry Raven, I'll go easy on you for your first time..." he whispered. "Unlike you, I'm actually a patient teacher."

When you finally landed on your knees in front of him, his fervent fingers moved to his belt, swiftly undoing the latch and tugging his trousers mid-way down his thighs. His eyes never once left yours, his bottom lip pulled tightly between his teeth as he moved to his boxers next; finally freeing his thick, throbbing length, the veins in his hand tensing as he wrapped his fist around its girth, his mouth falling open in relief.

Your stomach twisted, your entire body fucking screaming at the sight. "Holy fu-"

Your words were cut short as his hand thrust through your hair, fingers entangling through your soft strands, cranking your neck back slightly to meet his eyes again, slowly fucking into his fist as he watched you; examined you.

"What would your friends think of this, huh?" His voice was hoarse, arrogant, and of course, sadistic, like always. "Little good girl Ravenclaw on her knees for the big bad Slytherin fuck up...it's almost poetic, isn't it?"

Your fingers trembled, and you clutched the fabric of your skirt for dear life. "Are you going to let me suck it or are you going to hold me here all day instead?"

"Eager little thing you are," he huffed, smirking; jaw tensing and throat bobbing as he swallowed. "Drop your jaw, princess."

As you did what he said, he hummed in satisfaction, directing the head of his throbbing cock past your lips, hissing through his teeth as the wet warmth of your mouth enveloped his shaft, involuntarily gagging as he continued to push into throat until your hands shot up to his thighs, silently pleading for a mere second to adjust to his size.

"Use your hands then, Raven..." his voice was a breathless whisper, fingers tightening their hold on your hair. "Unless you want me to fuck that filthy throat of yours."

You glanced up at him, his appearance doing inexplicable things to your cunt, undeniably at this point--and you wrapped your hands around the base of his shaft, twisting and stroking as you moved your mouth against the remaining length--suctioning your lips around him, eyes watering and cunt clenching as he groaned, head falling back and lids fluttering shut.

"Mm...that's it..." he muttered, using your hair like reigns to direct your head. "Your mouth feels so fucking good when you're not using it to be an uptight little bitch..."

You hummed in assent, pressing your wet tongue against the throbbing underside of his cock. Your heart was beating out of your chest, thighs clamping in lust--even though he was being a sadistic asshole per usual, and there was not one part of this you should be enjoying--you couldn't deny the heat that was pooling between your legs, the unfamiliar desire that was growing in your lungs only intensified with every deep, breathless groan that left Mattheo's lips.

You dropped your hands, taking more of him now, slowly but surely, and you tried your best to ignore the pain that Riddle was inflicting on your scalp; his cock twitching more insistently between your lips with each passing second. Cranking your neck back, he slowly started fucking into your throat, groaning as he'd almost entirely pulled out, and you tightened your lips around his girth, wanting to trap him.

"So fucking good, Raven..." he huffed, and eased in again, holding your head in place, watching as his length disappeared into your mouth. "Are you sure this is your first time? Shit-"

His voice was heavy with pleasure, igniting a thunderstorm of arousal on your skin, growing more intense with each second his eyes were on you--his breathing grew heavier as your lips and tongue worked in unison, the sheer hunger in his gaze nearly palpable.

"Look at me," he muttered, cranking your neck back further, thrusting deeper. When you met his eyes, your thighs screamed in need. "Good girl...just like that..."

Mattheo's hips moved quicker, his groans of pleasure filling the room. Sparks were buzzing over your skin, air squeaking into your nose, tears welling in your eyes as he thrust into your throat again and again. His gaze was trained on you, his breath coming in shorter bursts the faster he moved.

"Fuck..." he sputtered, fingers bruising your scalp. "Far better use for that filthy mouth..."

You gagged, swallowing against him, and he yanked your head back further; entirely losing himself and any ounce of his self control in the heat of your throat as he neared his peak. You worked your tongue along the underside of his dick, pulling your lips in over your teeth, a quiet groan leaving him as you hollowed your cheeks and sucked him.

"You look so good taking my cock..." he said. "You don't know how many times I've imagined doing this to you-fuck...every time you gave me attitude...shit..."

A moan rumbled through you, spurred on by his words, and his head fell back, breath sputtering in his lungs as he squeezed his eyes shut; fingernails digging into your scalp as he held you in place, hot jets of his release shooting down your throat without warning. You panted against his dick, swallowing every last drop of his cum without complaint, and when he finally released you--slowly tucking himself away, he stared at you with an astounded expression on his face, chest heaving.

As you wiped the drool off your chin with your sleeve, you slowly peeled yourself off the floor, meeting his intense eyes--which were still staring at you as he did up his belt.

"What?" You said, anxiously. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

He blinked, throat knocking as he swallowed. "I'm just trying to figure you the fuck out." He said. "You took my cock and swallowed my cum better than some of the sluttiest whores in this school have..."

Your face burned, entire body tingling as you readjusted your uniform. "Is that a bad thing?"

"Not at all, Raven." He huffed, throwing himself into the chair next to yours. "Think you just needed a bad boy like me to give you permission to finally let loose, yeah?"

"Permission?" You cocked an eyebrow, taking a seat next to him. "I'd think not, Riddle."

"Denial is a river in Egypt, princess." He sneered, that devilish smirk teasing his lips per usual. "You have no idea what you've just gotten yourself into. Better hope you don't get attached...I promise, I'm nothing but bad news..."

Your rolled your eyes, straightening out in the chair and flipping open the textbook to the appropriate chapter.

"Believe me, I won't."

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Chapter three->