#the way he was holding back… I FEEL DIZZY

[igotanidea]

The little bean: Anthony Bridgerton x pregnant!wife!reader

A/N: So..... After my "Too much" series I've been asked to do something with Antony and pregnancy trope. And since 1) I got baby fever and 2) Bridgertons are back, there is no better time than now.

***

“Y/N, my love, what are you doing?”

“I’m holding a book…?”

Ever since Y/N found out she was pregnant with the heir (which she would rather address as her precious little baby, instead of giving him titles before he or she was even born) Anthony entered right into an overprotective mood. If anything he would just keep her home, away from any prying eyes, that – in his opinion – might somehow take a look inside, at his baby and perhaps, see the little one before it came into the view of a proud viscount father.

Y/N could barely walk around the Bridgerton household, let alone the garden, without her husband chasing after her with a very concerned look, ready to carry her wherever she wished, just so that her feet wouldn’t touch the ground.

There were so many dangers on the way after all.

Wild animals. (i.e. bees, dogs and strays cats)

Speeding carriages.

Stones on which she might trip and fall.

Too much sun.

Too little sun.

And worst of all-

Members of the ton.

It was merely the first trimester and viscountess was torn between calming Anthony down (tactfully avoiding the information that the next months will be much more challenging) or just rushing away to her mother-in-law (yet, again) to seek aid in keeping him in check.

And just when she thought the oldest Bridgerton could not get any more obsessive, he took the lecture she was reading out of her hands.

“My dear, you cannot carry such weights. It’s straining and I am to protect you from threats.”

“It’s a book…” she frowned a little, but not without a hint of amusement in her voice

“It’s heavy.”  

“It's a 200 page novel…”

“It’s heavy.” Anthony’s voice was gentle, but firm. Both demanding and pleading.

“Anthony…”

“Y/N.”

“I can hold my own book.”

“We got servants for that.  In fact – let me call upon your maid and –“ he started walking towards the door in sheer purpose to liberate his dearest wife from the unnecessary burden.

Nonetheless his dearest wife had quite a different plan, reaching to grab his hand and stopping him in his tracks.

“My love. Please, come. Let us sit.” She guided him to the ottoman, still keeping the soft touch that was grounding to him.

Much to her surprise Anthony rushed to the furniture first, fixing pillows and blankets so Y/N could sit comfortably. And apparently that word, in his language, meant sitting half a meter in the air, covered from head to toe, regardless of the perfect spring weather outside.

“Here. Perfect.” He flashed a perfect smile, content with the spot he made for her.

“Anthony…”

“Yes, my love?” as he spun around meeting with her desperate look, the smile slowly disappeared from his face. “Y/N? Are you not feeling well?” Anthony grabbed both her hands in his, searching her face for any symptoms of malaise, dizziness, nausea. “Do you need some water? Or-“

“No, no, Anthony, please just listen to me for a moment-“

“Perhaps I should call upon Daphne, she already had a child of her own and she would be of help. Or maybe my mother could-“

“Anthony!” she laughed whole-heartedly at his  feverishness “I am not going to give birth in the fourth month of pregnancy! Please just calm down.”

“Just say a word and I’ll call for a medic immediately. Do not fret my dearest, I will take the best care of you. I swear on my life that-“

At that moment Y/N used the most effective way to stop his blubbering in the form of putting his hand on her slightly rounded belly in which their baby was healthily growing.

“Shh.” She whispered, putting her own palm on top of Anthony's, calming him down, letting him caress the stomach in hope to make him calm down. “It’s okay. Everything’s okay. I don’t need medic. Nor your mother. And certainly not your younger sister. I am feeling good and the only thing that concerns me is my husband's distress over nothing.”

“Nothing? You are carrying our baby!”

“And our baby needs his father to stop fretting.”

“But-“

“Here!” her eyes grew wide as she guided his hand to another place “did you feel it?”

“Was it--?” Anthony’s face expression mirrored the one of his wife.

“It kicked…” she whispered as their gazes met and for a second that extended into eternity, they just kept looking into each other’s eyes expressing so many feelings.

And then, almost as if in a dream, Anthony fell to his knees in front of Y/N, pressing his head into her belly.

“Our baby.” He whispered, kissing her body through the material of the dress. “our little baby.” He wrapped arms around her midsection with his ear pressed to the home of the child, almost hoping to hear him or her inside.

“Our baby…” she repeated with tears in her eyes. Despite knowing and obviously – feeling the imminent arrival of the new family member it was the first time she actually felt and knew. And it was beautiful. Her little bean was really there. Growing and waiting for the right moment to appear in the world, landing right into the waiting, safe arms of loving mother and father.      

“Do you think it can hear us?” Anthony pressed one ear to her stomach, his entire face lighting up at the possibility.

“Depends.” She chuckled

“On what?” his eyes travelled up to meet hers.

“If I say yes, will that mean you start talking to my insides?”

Anthony smirked.

“I will do that, even if you say no.”

“Then why the question?”

“Testing your knowledge.”

“I am not a doctor, Anthony. My expertise in the area might be a little limited.”

“Very well. Then give me an answer as a mother, not a medic.”

“Yes. Yes, I think it can hear us.” She cupped Anthony’s cheek in the affectionate gesture. There was something utterly heartening in seeing him like this. Holding her (and/or the baby) like she was the most precious thing in the world, needing the assurance that his child was already reaching to him.

That it could hear him, even if it wasn’t even born yet. Hoping for the love of the Lord that it was truly happening. That in a few months, that were going to pass by with extraordinary speed, the little one, a girl or a boy, would take a corporal form. That the viscount would not only be a noble and a husband but would also take on the new role – a father. A protector. Caregiver. A teacher, guardian and a guide. That somehow – his life would be complete. He’ll have his own little family. Something that was nearly impossible to him a few years prior.

And now-

“Anthony…” Y/N whispered, wiping a single tear from his eyes. “Sweetheart, what is wrong?”

“Nothing. Nothing is wrong, love. It’s all perfect.”

“Then why are you-?”

“I’m not.” He cleared his throat and gathered himself.

“Of course not.” She laughed softly brushing his hair. “But if you’d want to actually talk to the baby, that would stay in this little circle.”

Anthony smiled lovingly, grateful for having his miracle of a woman in his life. She understood him so perfectly well.

“We’re waiting for you, little one.” He whispered against her attire, with a little muffled voice, be it from emotions or closeness of his lips on her body. “You are already loved by two people, with more to come.”

‘You can say it Anthony…” Y/N whispered, knowing what he was holding back.

“I love you my little one.” The viscount whispered with the softest voice, caressing the place where the kick was previously felt.

And they stood like that for a while longer, enjoying that moment of joy and thinking about the future that looked quite bright. 

[ithebookhoarder]

It's completely fine if you don't do this but I loved your Colin one, so can you do how the other brothers would react if they found out you were pregnant??!?!?!?!

Unexpectedly Expecting (Anthony / Benedict Bridgerton x AFAB!reader):

A/N: Thank you for sending this in! I'm combining this with another request - I hope that's ok? 👇 As both were on a similar track, but I can always do more later on this because who doesn't love imagining the Bridgerton boys with little ones?! 🥰

Warnings: Mentions of pregnancy, mentions of childbirth, references to doctors and medical professionals, pregnancy symptoms like nausea and morning sickness, mentions of trouble conceiving a child, sex references, swearing, blood (let me know if I missed any!).

Masterlist:

Anthony Bridgerton:

As Viscount Anthony would likely be expecting to have children and heirs of his own and yes, it would be a concern if you weren’t falling pregnant as a couple. However, I think it upsets him more than anything because of how upsetting it is for you. He loves you and seeing you beating yourself up and making yourself sick with worry is heartbreaking. 

He has so many siblings and they have children so the Bridgerton estate and line will continue, he soothes, hoping it would take some pressure off of yourself. If you fall pregnant then that would be a blessing, but you weren’t a failure. In fact, for all he knows, he could be the issue. It’s impossible to be certain either way and he would never let you take that on yourself. Any arguments you’d have would be about that and nothing else. 

“If you think I will sit here and allow you to abuse yourself in such a way then you are sorely mistaken, my love-“

“-You don’t understand, Anthony! This is my fault. Even if you do not agree. To society, to the rest of the world, the blame will lay solely on me! That’s all that matters!” 

“No! You are all that matters and I will not allow you to keep torturing yourself this way. We will stop, do you hear me? No more talk of heirs or blame or anything to do with the subject. Let us just enjoy our life as it is for now. The future is unimportant.” 

Violet would side with Anthony, as would all his siblings. They love you too and want you to be happy - even if Violet does offer some tips and insights on ways one could assist with falling pregnant, but only at your request.

Still, when you’re not with child months later you start to lose hope. 

It gets worse as more of the Bridgerton siblings start getting married and falling pregnant. They would never rub it in your face, but it doesn’t make it any less painful when you see them or their partners caressing their bumps or discussing what names they could choose.  

You’d wish them well, obviously, but inside you feel like you’re dying. Even Anthony holding you close and pressing a comforting kiss against your cheek does nothing to raise your spirits. 

With each passing day you become just a little more certain that you’re not destined to have a child… which is why you’re utterly stunned when you miss your monthly bleed - not once, but twice… 

You didn’t say anything at first, obviously worried that it was just delayed from your recent stress. However, when it happens again you start to dare to hope for the impossible and you’re all but racing to get a physician to confirm the diagnosis. 

As soon as you do, you’re racing straight back to your husband to share the good news. You don’t care if he is in a meeting, at his club, with his family or even in the middle of the street. You still sprint to his side and blurt the news for everyone to hear.

The tears are instantaneous, as is the cheer of delighted disbelief he gives, throwing his arms about you and spinning you around until you’re both dizzy. “This… this is the greatest blessing we could have received, my love. I’m so happy… we’re going to be parents? We’re having a child?… oh, lord. We’re having a child.”

This man has been acting as a father to his siblings for so long you have no problem imagining him taking to the role like a duck to water. That doesn’t mean he wouldn’t be scared out of his mind to think of the responsibility of raising a child of his own. 

You can expect this man to be badgering his mother with a never ending list of questions - heck, he’d even swallow his pride and ask Simon and Daphne for advice if it came to it. After all, ‘if Hastings can do it, it can’t be too difficult’.

You’re laughing too hard to even try and correct him.

This man would be so protective of you whilst you were pregnant - especially after the troubles you’ve had getting to this point. 

“I really think you ought to have a maid accompany you when you journey to and fro. I should hate for something to happen to you."

“Anthony, I’m only going for a walk around the garden!”

“But still-“

Anything you could possibly need he has already bought three of them. No expense is spared for you and your unborn child - including summoning doctors from their beds in the middle of the night if you even think something might be wrong with either you or the baby. 

Speaking of doctors, he would fight anybody who tried to banish him from your side when the time comes. He and his mother, should you wish her there, would be at your side the whole time. They would be your biggest cheerleaders and would do whatever they could to ensure you were cared for and supported, whether it be mopping your brow, holding you as you pace around, or advocating for you against any doctor who tries to violate your wishes about the birth. 

And when you are finally handed a crying, wrinkled, cherub with Anthony’s eyes… well, it’s all worth it. You have never felt a love as pure as this, except for when you met Anthony, and nothing can ruin such a perfect moment. 

Benedict Bridgerton:

Benedict would be so calm about possibly having children with you. If you do have children, then they will be loved and adored - obviously. But if you don’t? Then that doesn’t matter. It means you two can continue your adventures together for a while longer, travelling wherever your heart desires, visiting galleries and indulging in your bohemian lifestyle with all your friends.

You have your freedom - even more so now that you’re married. Society doesn’t care what you do now that you’re no longer on the marriage mart. It’s liberating, and any pressure to produce heirs comes from only you or your loved ones, so it’s non-existent.  

However, if you did want children then Benedict would be more than eager to help create them… and get creative about doing so. 

“Benedict! That is not how a child is conceived… no wonder you’re a student of the arts. The academy of science would never admit you with such a lack of understanding about basic anatomy!”

“You’re right, my dear, but you have to admit - this is a hell of a lot more fun.” 

He would be nothing but supportive of you and so gentle every time your monthly bleed approached, especially if nothing happens. He understands how your hopes rise and how hard it hits you when you realise it hasn’t yet worked. He’d never insult you or diminish your feelings. 

If anything, he would be quick to shoulder any possible blame, refusing to let you even begin to suggest that it has anything to do with you or your body. You are perfect. End of - and he’ll fight anyone who suggests otherwise. 

“You can’t rush things, angel. After all, the best things are worth the time and effort. Michelangelo took over four years to finish the Sistine Chapel, and Da Vinci sixteen years to paint the Mona Lisa. Some things are worth the wait… and if it doesn’t happen how we wish, then we’re already creating something so beautiful between us. Our family will be perfect, no matter how it looks, how it comes about, or even when it does.”

And when it does? Well, then you’ve never seen him look so happy, tears pouring from his eyes as you confirm the good news.

You also fear for a moment that he’s about to swoon, he goes so pale and he even starts to breath heavily as he paces back and forth, muttering ‘I… I’m going to be a father? A father? Me?’. His imposter syndrome would hit him with full force and it would take several weeks for him to process it enough to calm down and be excited rather than terrified. However, he’d never have been anything other than positive towards you. You know it’s his love for your unborn child that makes him panic about being a good father.  

Also, he would be SO supportive once you are expecting. He would be there holding your hair back if you felt nauseous and bringing you endless cups of tea without you even asking. 

He wouldn’t complain in the slightest about staying in with you, rather than going to whatever social events his family had organised. As he argued, it gave him ample time to finish whatever piece he was working on next and he got to keep you company in the meantime. 

I just feel he’d paint something for the baby, whether it be a piece to hang on the wall of the nursery, or the wall of the nursery itself. You’d find him stood in front of the nursery wall, covered in paint, but beaming ear to ear. 

“It’s beautiful, Benedict.”

“Well, our baby should be allowed to enjoy the full beauty of a spectrum of colours, rather than just ‘white’ on the walls - and the sooner they begin to understand the art of composition, the better in my opinion.”

You would also be receiving gifts from all your artistically minded friends, which is heart-warming. They’d crown them their newest ‘little liberal’ and would devote themselves to ensuring your off-spring would have a well-rounded eduction about the higher arts of life - something Benedict is keen to endorse.  

“When are they not ‘too young’ to have an art tutor?” 

“Maybe wait till they can hold a paint brush first, Benedict.” 

“What about poetry?”

“Again, I think they should probably learn the alphabet before we try them on Wordsworth or Donne.” 

Given what he says in his book I know he’d secretly want a girl but you know that as long as it’s happy and healthy then that would be enough. After all, it would be yours, made from your love in a living, breathing creation greater than any painting or sculpture. 

He would be awe struck when you hand them to him, afraid he might break them somehow. He would just sit and stare at them for hours, admiring them like the finest sculpture.

“I promise to be the best possible father you could ever want, my love. I will do whatever I can to protect you and make you, and your mother, feel cherished. I won’t let you down… even if you turn out like most of your Uncles and have no idea what the difference is between a sonata and a sonnet.”  

[skiiyoomin]

hello! i’m not sure if you’re taking reqs so if not feel free to skip this! i was wondering if we can get a oneshot of bakugo x reader except reader is a famous jpop idol (or even a global pop star) and bakugo is a pro hero. how the rest plays out can totally be up to you but i thought this would be a unique pairing. :)

Hi hi! Yes my reqs are open so feel free to ask as much as you´d like! I looove the idea, its literally one of my fave tropes. It´s a little short but I thought it was a cute way to start a possible relationship between bakugo and reader :>

RULES !! DO NOT COPY OR REPOST MY WORK PLEASE

⤑Back to navigation

Content: pro hero! Bakugou x idol! reader, inspo from the met gala, gn! reader, swearing cause its bakugou

✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:

Bakugou hated attending these events. The constant flashing of camera lights, the stuffiness of his suit, the obnoxious voices of paparazzi begging him to look their way. It was exhausting.

But alas, as one of the top heroes, he had to show his face more often than he´d like to and make small talk with people he could care less about. At least he´d get a few free drinks and food for the night.

As he finished walking down the red carpet and away from the dizzying lights, a figure smaller than his own bumped into him. And Bakugou in his very characteristic fashion, was ready to threat whoever wasn´t watching their step. "Oi, watch where you´re-"

The words died in his throat when his ruby eyes landed on your own. You had to be the most beautiful person he had ever seen. The luxurious fabric of your extravagant clothes complimented your features and sitted on the curves of your body just right. He realizes he was staring more than he should when your silky voice reached his ears.

"I´m so sorry!! It´s just it´s a bit hard to walk in these clothes" You admit with an embarrsed chuckle. He tsks, though there was no real annoyance directed towards you. "Can´t believe they´re making you wear something you can´t even walk in"

You chuckle feeling flattered by the concerns from someone who was so notorious for being abrasive...and devilishly handsome. "Yeah, well, you know, practicality isn´t really on top of their priority list."

To the surprise of the both of you, he holds his arm out. "What table are you assigned in?" God it took everything in him not to sweep you off your feet with the way your doe eyes were marveling up at him. You link your arm around his own. "Table three"

He hums in acknowledgement, though deep down he felt his heart hammering in his chest like a teenage boy. "Good, at least there will be a pretty face sitting with me"

It was embarrassing how quickly heat rose to your cheeks from such a common and simple compliment you heard quite often. Though it felt so different hearing it slip from his tongue. It felt genuine.

The picture you had portrayed of the pro hero Dynamight completely shattered the longer you spent the night engaged in conversation with him. He too, felt any prejudices he may have held against you for being an idol slip away. Conversation rolled easily between you two as if you had been friends for years, and for the first time in a very long time, you both truly enjoyed being there.

Of course, it didn´t make it any less exhausting. The proof being written all over your energy drained face by the time the clock struck 12 PM. Lucky you, Bakugou had a knack for being observant, so it didn´t take long before he realized how fatigued you felt, and truthfully, he wasn´t doing much better than you. He was just better at hiding it.

"Let me drive you home" It wasn´t a question, and it´s not like you had the energy to retaliate. You let him place a warm calloused hand on your waist while he led you to his car. The drive back to your home felt like it went by in a flash, though it must be because you were fast asleep.

His heart clenched when he gazed at your soft features while you were deep in slumber. But alas, the last thing he wanted was to overstep boundaries, so, albeit begrudgingly, he reached out and shook your shoulder.

"Hey, wake up, we´re here"

Your dark lashes fluttered against your cheeks before your eyelids slowly opened. It took you a long moment to gather your surroundings, but once you realized, your lips formed into a small `o´.

Bakugou thought it was a crime to look so adorable, but it´s not like he would ever tell you that. "C´mon, i´ll help you upstairs"

Once again, his hands felt just right against your body when he aided you in walking properly to your home. Everything felt like a fever dream. The way he respectfully removed any excessive fabric of clothing or the way he helped you into your bed in a surprisingly soft manner for someone so rough.

But you realized how real it was when you spotted a little note sticked to your fridge the next morning with beautifully neat handwriting saying:

"Text me xxx-xx-xx-xx"

And if anyone had seen the wide grin that spread across your face, they would have called you a simp. Maybe you were.

[peaches2217]

Summer Rain

AO3 link!

~~~

There’s nothing quite like falling ten feet to the ground and landing flat on one’s back to bring a person back into reality. When he came to, Mario’s first reaction was relief. Rest, finally. Everything burned. His throat, his lungs, his muscles, his stomach. His ears rang and his head spun and his vision created doubles of every last block and obstacle overhead, and at long last, he was free to simply lay in the grass and observe passively.

As with all good things, it didn't last.

Get up.

The all-too-familiar voice, maybe his own and maybe some divine call from the universe, repeated these words in his head, but he couldn’t make his muscles obey. He could hardly breathe; air returned to him in unsteady gasps, and with each one, his short-lived relief melted further and further into frustration.

Get up. Something gurgled in his throat that was neither air nor bile, and the taste of copper coated his tongue. Get up. How had he slipped? He’d run this training gauntlet hundreds of times, if not thousands, in the past weeks. Had he grown complacent? Get up. This was no time for complacency. No time for failure. Get up, get up, get up.

“Mario!” He registered the cry of his name the same way he registered the pain in his spine or the ache in his limbs or the muted yet near-constant growling of his gut: with little more than passing acknowledgement. He knew he was hurt. He knew he was hungry. He knew someone was calling out to him. He didn’t care. His only concern was get up, get up, get up, sit up, stand up, get back to training.

Get back to her.

“Mario?”

Just as soon as he’d pulled himself to his knees, dizziness overtook Mario, and he barely caught himself on his hands, his arms shaking from the effort to support his weight. Her voice. All it took was the ghost of her voice to sap his fight, drain the furor that fueled him, until he was empty, empty, empty.

She wasn’t— he knew she wasn’t— and yet she— she sounded so near—

“Oh, Mario,” Peach sighed, pressing a gloved hand to her cheek, “what am I going to do? If I have to sit through one more unproductive commission on import tax rates, I think I’m going to scream.”

Mario chuckled sympathetically. “So I’m guessing third time wasn’t the charm after all?”

“I thought surely the senators would be just as sick of all the arguing as I am by now. Sadly, I’m fairly certain they enjoy it.” Another sigh. “So a fourth commission has been scheduled for Thursday.”

Thursday. Mario wracked his head for upcoming happenings, possible excuses, any circumstance he could twist in her favor, and he found it in short order.

“Hmm… it sure is a shame you won’t be there for that meeting, Princess.”

Peach halted in her tracks, and Mario stopped alongside her, meeting her confusion with pointed nonchalance.

“I… won’t be?”

“You didn’t forget, did you? That play in Mushroom City you were invited to? That’s Thursday night, yeah?”

Peach shook her head. “Mario, I’d hardly call a letter written in crayon by a child begging me to attend their Kindergarten theatre production an ‘invitation.’ More of a… um…” A pause. The realization clicked into place, her bright eyes glowing ever brighter in the twilight, and she graced Mario with a sly, cheerful smile. “Well, how many children have the courage to write to the castle directly? It would be rude to turn such a thoughtful invitation down.”

“My thoughts exactly!” He nudged her side, winking up at her. “Now, I know you’d rather sit and listen to grouchy old Toads shout over each other all day, but we all have to make sacrifices sometimes, yeah?”

“Heavy is the head that wears the crown.” A very un-regal giggle slipped her lips, juvenile in its conniving yet ethereal all the same, and Mario couldn’t help but feel especially proud of himself. “So we’ll meet at the carriage hold Thursday at dawn, then? Plenty enough time to escape before Toadsworth catches on.”

Her proposal didn’t surprise him; it had become customary, after all, to act as her guard any time she ventured beyond the palace walls. This made her invitation no less sacred to him. “You can count on me, Princess.”

Peach took a moment to breathe in the fresh spring evening, exhale her worries, and as their walk resumed, her hand found his, small and light but present and real and warm. “Oh, Mario,” she laughed, “you’re my hero!”

You’re my hero…

Another rush of oxygen hit his brain, and she was gone once more. Memories of golden hair in the waning light of sunset were washed out in smudges of green and brown and red — his fingers digging into the earth, damp from a recent summer rain, a trickle of blood dripping from his bottom lip onto the backs of his hands.

Some hero he was. 

A familiar pressure welled within his chest, and he huffed in relief. Anger. It made his heart pump harder and brought his surroundings back into focus and flooded him with unbearable energy, and he was finally able to clamor to his feet, spitting blood so he could breathe properly. Turning towards the gauntlet’s nearest springboard, he wiped his sleeve over his mouth and let that rage consume him once more, let himself believe again that it wasn’t rage at all, but hope. Hope in its rawest, most painful form.

She was counting on him. He would bring her home. He would have pleasant evening walks in the gardens with her again, he would laugh with her over tea and cakes, he would ensure no similar misfortune ever befell her again. Maybe he would even tell her that he loved her, just so he could say he no longer held any secrets from her. And until that day came, he would train and train and train until no force, earthly or cosmic, could stand in his way.

How could you let this happen?

That fragile illusion of hope burst into flames, its fire coursing through Mario’s veins, but now that he was on his feet again, he made no further effort to fool himself. With a final, sharp breath, he lunged forward—

“Basta così!”

Something caught his left wrist, and the unexpected intrusion snuffed Mario’s fire, like water tossed on a blazing bed of coals. He clenched his jaw and smoldered uselessly for a moment, quivering with unspent energy, giving his captor a chance to free him without provocation. The grasp ensnaring him only tightened.

“Lasciami andare, Lu.” He kept his voice as steady as possible, deathly quiet and low, because he knew it would shake if he raised it any louder, and he couldn’t afford to be perceived as weak.

“No.” Luigi’s voice was equally unwavering. “I’ve let this go on long enough. You’re coming home.”

Mario scoffed. Oh, now his timid little brother was choosing to stand his ground. Now, of all times, for all purposes—! He lurched forward to free himself. He didn’t have time for such games.

Luigi moved with him easily, and before Mario could reestablish his footing, he was yanked backwards by the arm so hard that his vision went blurry and his legs briefly gave out beneath him.

But he didn’t have time to collapse. Luigi powered ahead, and Mario was forced to twist his body in the same direction and stumble along behind him, and by the time his surroundings stopped shifting they were well past the athletic center’s gate and into the streets of Toad Town.

What in the Eight Realms was going on? His brother was strong, but he was stronger. It should have been easy to pull free or at least anchor himself and force an impasse, but he wouldn’t slow down.

“Let me go, Luigi,” he repeated in their mother tongue, half so the dozens of Toads craning their stubby necks as he was dragged past couldn’t eavesdrop and half because his grasp on the English language was one of the first things to go when he was upset. 

“You really think I’m that useless?” Luigi didn’t even look over his shoulder as he responded in the same tongue, yet his voice pierced through the ambiance of the streets. “I don’t need a missing friend and a dead brother.”

Another white-hot burst of fury flared within Mario, and he tried once again to break free (once again, to no avail). Useless? A “missing friend”? A princess — their Princess! — was abducted by a notoriously homicidal warlord who promised to kill her and seize her kingdom by force unless he was met with unconditional surrender, and all his brother cared about was how he was perceived? How these events affected him?

Mario was the only living person with any chance of bringing her home safely, or at least alive. He’d devoted himself to that cause wholeheartedly and without hesitation. Fought and trained and redefined himself over the past two months while waiting for royal spies to figure out where she was actually being held. He’d never thought Luigi to be so selfish, that he’d stand in his way. That he’d sooner trade Peach’s life for his. Did she really mean that little to him? The very thought nauseated him. Or maybe those were hunger pangs.

They arrived at their shared cottage in short order, and Mario spit one last mouthful of blood into the grass before he could be dragged onto the porch and through the door. This wasn’t just selfish. This was betrayal of the highest order. 

Luigi all but tossed him inside, and only then did he let go. Mario seethed at his green-and-blue-clad back as he shut and locked the door, rubbing his wrist absentmindedly, stimulating the once-restricted blood flow. Betrayed by the last person he would ever have suspected. The one person who should have been supporting him, who he’d thought already was supporting him before today. He held his internal fire close at bay, ready to make his disappointment and disapproval clear, and with a heavy sigh, Luigi turned to face him—

“This isn’t your fault, Mario.”

Mario’s belligerence fizzled out. Where there was once fire, there was now ice, still and cold.

“...What?”

“This isn’t your fault.” Luigi enunciated each word carefully as he approached his older brother. “N-no one blames you for this except for you. So you’re not proving anything to anyone by torturing yourself, bro, okay?”

For a long moment, all Mario could do was gape in bewilderment. Not once since the Princess’ abduction had a word been uttered about blame. There was no need, he'd just as quickly assumed: anyone with two functioning brain cells knew exactly who was to blame, and verbalizing accusations wouldn’t get her home any faster, so he bore his cross with a heavy heart and his head held high. 

Even Luigi had never spoken up on the matter. Mario just assumed that meant he agreed. Why bother kicking someone that’s already down?

“I-I…” Mario swallowed. No. No, he was lying. Reality was sinking in and he was lying in a last-ditch effort to defend what hadn’t already been lost. He knew just as well as Mario that… and yet he…

Selfish. Selfish, selfish, selfish.

“I’m her guard, Luigi,” he finally answered, and unpleasant but ever-familiar heat rose once more within him, making his face and ears tingle. “It’s my job to protect her! Literally my job!”

“Yeah, during the day! But you’re acting like she was nabbed under your watch! You’re acting like everyone expects you to be on guard twenty-four-seven!” He drew closer to lay a hand on Mario’s left shoulder; what should have been comfortable and familiar instead felt foreign and cumbersome. “The truth is, you were exactly where you were supposed to be when it happened: in bed, conked out.”

A strike of lightning couldn’t have hit as hard as those words.

Mario jerked away from his brother’s touch, nostrils flared, breath coming to him far too quickly now. If he grit his teeth any tighter, he was certain they’d crack. Yes, he’d been asleep that night. He’d protected his Princess like always during the day and left her to fend for herself at sundown and he’d never forgive himself for it. So much for not kicking someone while they’re down.

“Thanks,” he huffed. “Very helpful reminder.”

“Mario, that’s not what—” Luigi sagged backwards, his eyes rolling to the ceiling in exasperation, as if he was the one who’d been slighted, and he cursed beneath his breath before refocusing. “She was never your sole responsibility. Everyone knows that but you. And no one wants to see you run yourself into the ground like this. Th-they trust you! They love you! Seeing how much guilt you're drowning in, seeing how badly you’re hurting, that hurts them, and—”

A deep, shaking breath. Mario tapped his foot impatiently, his fists clenched.

“A-and it hurts me too!" Luigi finally confessed. "Mario, you’re not the only victim here! How do you think I’ve been handling all of this?”

“Forget about that!” Mario fired back. “Just imagine what she’s going through! Can you think about something other than yourself for once and look at the bigger picture?!”

Alarms sounded deep in the recesses of his brain, warning signals, crying a mantra of Too far, too far, too far. He didn’t care. He couldn’t afford to care.

“She wouldn’t want this either! If she was here—”

That was the final straw. Putting words in the Princess’ mouth— what little patience or composure Mario still held, already stretched thin, snapped. 

“Well she’s not!” He stamped his foot like a child throwing a tantrum, grasping Luigi’s arm and forcing him to look directly into his eyes. “Don’t— don’t you dare tell me what she’d say or what she’d do! You don’t have that right! Because you’re not her, and she’s not…”

Mario blinked. Had… had Luigi always looked this tired? His eyes, normally so cheerful and blue, appeared dull and gray, wide with regret and brimming with unshed tears. And there were bags under those eyes too, and overgrown flyaways poking through his normally well-groomed mustache, and…

“...here.” All of his bravado, all of his energy, left him as he whispered that final word.

How long had it been since he’d fulfilled his role as the older brother? Peach was Luigi’s friend too. He was every bit as much Mario's responsibility as Peach was.

“I don’t need a missing friend and a dead brother.”

Only in the ensuing stillness did Mario realize how terribly he shook. He felt both weightless and impossibly leaden, cold and clammy, trembling not in outrage or determination, but something far meeker, far more pathetic: fear.

He was no hero. He was an idiot who’d failed someone he claimed to love and was desperate to make things right, no matter the personal cost. He was a useless brother that dealt with his own inadequacies by lashing out at those who cared for him most. He was nothing.

“Weegee…”

Luigi swallowed, taking a deep, slow breath before responding. “Martyring yourself isn’t the answer. I mean, think for a minute here. You can’t save her if you get yourself killed first.”

It overtook Mario again, a wave of unwelcome emotion, and his knees wobbled beneath him, threatening to buckle.

“Then… then what do you suggest I do? Huh? Clearly you have more answers than I do! So tell me what to do!”  He let go of Luigi’s arms to grasp his overall straps and pull him down, searching his face for those fabled answers. There was no spite in his words or his actions. He shouted at and jostled his brother not in anger, but in pure helplessness. “Tell me what to do!”

The uncertainty etched into Luigi’s face didn’t go away completely, but he buried it beneath something harder, more determined. He braced his gloved hands against Mario’s shoulders, grounding and steady.

“I’ll tell you exactly what you’re going to do,” he said, his voice low yet firm. “You’re going to sit right there on that couch, or on the floor, or wherever you feel like, and you’re gonna cry and scream and get all of this pent-up anger out of your system. And then — look at me, Mario, listen!” He jostled the elder brother back, shaking his shoulders. “Then you’re going to eat something. Okay?” He smiled then, the strain of it contorting his face into some pitiful mimicry of humor. “We can’t have you wasting away when the Princess sees you again, yeah? What would she say?”

Mario’s breath hitched in his throat, suddenly swollen shut.

What would she say? Maybe she would rush forward and cup his cheeks, demanding to know what happened and if he was alright, as if he was the one who had been swept away in the dead of night. Maybe she would be so exhausted and so weakened that she didn’t notice; maybe she would only have the strength to smile as he took her battered body into his arms, her face pale but her eyes vibrant. Maybe her gaze would be glassy and there would be nothing left to hold but an empty shell that had once been his best friend, her fate sealed the moment she’d chosen to place her trust in him.

Or maybe he would die long before he reached her. If only he could trust anyone else to save her, he would have been perfectly fine with that outcome. It was the least he deserved. But that would be far too easy, wouldn’t it? What would become of her then? What would become of Luigi?

He would be free of his suffering, and it would fall directly onto their shoulders instead.

How could you let this happen?

The breath trapped in his throat forced its way back out, some mix between a cough and a hiccup, and finally his knees gave out. He held on tighter and sunk his face into his twin’s shirt collar, and he tried to apologize, he tried to beg forgiveness, but the only sound he could produce was a breathless, almost primal whine.

“Ecco.” Luigi’s voice cracked yet remained soft as he sank to the ground with him, cradling his head close. “Sfogati. Ti sono vicino, fratello.”

Mario’s intended response came out once more as a whine. Ti voglio bene. Ho paura. Aiutami. Ti prego aiutami. Each effort to speak proved increasingly futile until he gave up entirely, surrendering to the wordless screams and sobs and tears his overworked, underfed body forced from him. And Luigi just held him, his fingers brushing through his hair as he fell apart.

Thunder rumbled distantly outside, heralding another summer rain.

~~~

“I’m sorry.”

By the time Mario was able to speak, he still didn’t have much to show for it; his voice was too hoarse to do anything but whisper, and the pounding ache in his head prevented him from doing even that very well.

Luigi shushed him, readjusting his head in his lap. “Just relax.”

“I don’t think you’re selfish,” he continued anyway, curling into himself tighter, soaking in as much of his brother’s body heat as he could. “Or useless.”

“I know you don’t.”

“I didn’t have any right to go off on you like that.”

“In your shoes, I doubt I’d be handling things much better.”

“I’m sorry.”

“And I forgive you. Now we’re even.”

This remark wasn’t quite enough to make Mario smile, but it did make him feel lighter, if only a bit. From his spot on the floor, he watched the rain patter against the living room window, dark and dreary and soothing. With the rain outside and Luigi’s fingers still combing through his curls, he felt properly sleepy for the first time in ages, a feeling far more pleasant than the exhaustion that had plagued him for eight, coming up on nine weeks.

Come to think of it, when was the last time he’d slept in his own bed? Most nights he’d find the nearest wall to slump against or a decent patch of grass to crash in when he couldn’t make his body cooperate any longer. And when was the last time he’d had a proper meal? Luigi had forced him to sit down and eat a packet of crackers a day or two ago, Toad brought him soup sometime last week and refused to leave until he downed at least half of it, but…

“Weegee?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m hungry.”

The hand in his hair stilled, and the response came after a few seconds of comfortable silence.

“Well duh. Of course you are.” His voice wavered, yet Mario could tell he was smiling. “What’d’ya want? We’ve got plenty enough to make anything. Don’t hold back.”

Mario hummed, closing his eyes. Making that choice on his own was a mental process he didn’t have the resources for. “Surprise me.”

Luigi vocalized his approval, but he didn’t move to stand quite yet. Instead, the hand in Mario’s hair found his own hand, and he gladly took it, permitting himself that comfort at least.

“Hey Mario? Can you… promise me something first?”

Mario nodded, a small and rapid movement of his head. He knew what was coming: Promise me you’ll eat everything I put in front of you. Promise me you’ll take a bath. Promise me you’ll get into clean clothes and sleep on a bed tonight. He was all too ready to agree. It was the least he owed his long-suffering brother.

“When you save the Princess… promise me you’ll come home too. Okay?”

Mario’s eyes snapped back open. The rain still fell against the window before him, steady and unending.

Easy enough to promise, at least in theory. He didn’t want to die. He wanted to make more pleasant memories with his friends, with his love, with his brother especially. There were so many adventures he still wanted to go on. So many things he wanted to see and do. But if worst came to worst, and he had to lay his life down to save Peach’s… he’d already made up his mind.

“This isn’t your fault.”

He took in a deep breath through his nostrils, exhaled it slowly through his lips. Luigi was strong and selfless. He’d had the strength to lie just so he could ease Mario’s woes. The least Mario could do was offer up a comforting lie of his own.

“Yeah.” He nodded again, and if maybe he held Luigi’s hand a bit too tightly, that was okay. “Yeah, I think I can promise that.”

[predestinatos]

“I Know” — CL16 + MV1

chapter 1 chapter 2

summary: the game doesn't stop once you leave the court OR part 2 of my challengers fic.

word count: 2.5k

tags: charles leclerc x fem! reader x max verstappen, smut, angst, fluff, everything really, complex relationship, implied cheating but also not how you expect it. MINORS DNI - WARNINGS UNDERNEATH

note: i have been loving writing this and exploring these characters and their dynamics. this chapter is shorter BUT that's because charles won in monaco and i felt like this would be a good celebration :) i hope u all enjoy it lovelies!

warnings: fingering (fem!receiving), dirty talking (a lot)

12:55AM

"Actually, I came here to tell you to lose" you said, crossing your arms in front of your chest defensively as the man looked down at you.

"Did you, now?" he asked, a finger raising your chin up towards him. Another joke, another teasing moment you couldn't run away from, couldn't resist despite your attempts at doing so.

He saw you merely nod. Part of him exhaled a short laugh, but another looked away from you. He was better than this. Better yet, you were better than this, much better. He also knew you were looking at him precisely how he wanted you to, a pleading in your eyes to succumb to the inevitable – but also a pleading to move away, to delay that inevitably for as long as possible.

He knew if he looked down again it would be over. You bit your lip as you stared at his tight jaw, at hints of a growing stubble across his face, at how everything about his body seemed to be a fight against itself.

"Charles" you called, unsure if he had heard it. He couldn't bear hearing your voice calling his name, and the stark, sudden change from his confident attitude to this restrained one was visible as he closed his eyes and swallowed dryly. "Hm?" was all he could reply. Was all he could bear to mutter without giving away the turmoil of his own mind.

"You're in the way."

YEARS EARLIER.

Max's hand was on your inner thigh and fighting against his mind to go much higher than that. You noticed the mole on his upper lip as he spoke, mostly because you tried to focus on his face more than his touch, afraid of letting it consume you.

"Did it actually matter? The winner?" he asked you. He pondered this many times after the match, head going back and forth between answers.

"It did to you both" you answered. He wasn't expecting it, really, yet he understood what you meant completely. Something about his relationship with Charles changed, and contrary to what was expected, it did so for the better.

"He thinks he knows what he wants" Max heard himself say, eyes locked on yours. He dared his hand to move upwards, just slightly, as if you wouldn't notice. As if his touch didn't make itself feel across your entire body.

"And what is that?" his face was so close to yours you were dizzy from holding back, dizzy by the sheer need you had to taste him again.

"Winning."

You raised an eyebrow at his answer, so bold yet calculated, hinting at something else, something more.

Both of you seemed aware of how talking about the other man ignited even more desire in you, excited you even more than it probably should.

"But he forgets why he wants it, what he truly wants. I never did." he continued, brushing your hair away from your neck in order to gain better access to it.

It was too much for you - how he seemed to know the right thing to do to send you just over the edge, to drive you to the limits of madness as your body yearned for him.

You took a deep breath, "Hm and what is it, Max?" he left sloppy, wet kisses along your neck now, as he realized he had won, pulling away only to smirk triumphantly, to admire his victory, looking at him almost completely disheveled already.

"You" his hand was as far up as it could now, leaving you completely vulnerable to how much he affected you. "So wet... And for who?" his question was a dare, a test of your honesty as his fingers brushed your clit. You could deny it, sure, but he knew the truth.

"For you" you said; an answer that was rewarded with a finger dipping slowly inside you, every inch of it felt as Max pushed inside you. He had to fight himself hard as he felt you tighten against his finger. Had to fight the urge to consume you fully right there and then because most of all he wanted to win.

"Why for me?" he asked, regaining control or convincing himself of it, another finger entering you and feeling how nicely you accomodated for him and him only. He was hard, his body craved the feeling of you around him, your wetness and heavy breath driving him to insanity and yet... and yet he let it hurt a bit. For he knew the long term pleasure would be bigger.

"Because you won" you answered, succumbing to him as his fingers curled inside you.

2:45PM

Cameras flashed in your direction inside the bustling studio. For brief minutes, your mind was focused on nothing but your own body and the camera, movements flowing through you and evoking new poses as you modeled.

It was good; to be distracted from Max, his tournament and the stress added to it. Too good to be true as you looked past the lights and photographers to a figure standing behind them, one that you were all too familiar with.

And now you were distracted once again, the double negatives not making positive. He was fit - tennis was doing him good, just as it was Max. His shoulders were broad and biceps more prominent in his polo shirt which hugged him tightly. He could only be mocking you. His awareness of how the timing conditioned every interaction between you and him couldn't go unnoticed - provocation written across his face as he admired you.

"Can we take 5?" you heard yourself say, unable to focus now that his presence haunted every picture like a ghost.

Charles watched as you got closer to him, wondering when exactly did he let you stray so further away from him, taking Max alongside you. He was a dick, really. His attitude was never the most humble or polite, not like his (now ex) best friend, who seemed to be more composed even in his nervousness.

Charles composed nature was more arrogant and overconfident, despite concealing little to nothing about his actual feelings. He wasn't familiar with insecurity the way Max was, so he never learned how to fake it that well.

You stopped in front of him, holding a cup filled with fruit as hunger crept up inside you now that you weren't focused on work.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" you asked, a loud whisper, a soft yell that made Charles wonder how that could even be possible. It clicked, then. Max could yell silently. He couldn't. But it wasn't sad to notice this, it actually amused him, the irony of him being the odd one out but also the inescapable one, the one unpredictable factor in both of your lives.

"Hello to you too, sweetheart" he replied, taking a grape from your cup and popping it into him mouth as he smiled. His boasting attitude made you roll your eyes. It took all the restraint in the world not to snap back at him.

He liked that about you. How your eyebrows furrowed, how your mouth turned into a slight frown of annoyance. How easy it was to get under your skin. How he knew that you loved it.

"Just came to say hi and wish you two luck for later" he continued, not wanting to part ways from you just yet, knowing he hadn't pushed all of your buttons yet.

"Max doesn't need your good luck" you replied. You noticed how you were always more defensive of him, sometimes almost mothering him.

Charles' cool toned eyes looked down at you as he bit his lip. He got you, now. He knew that. "But you do."

"I don't need anything from you" the cup was now becoming humid in your hands, threatening to slip as you tightened your grip on it.

"Are you sure?" his question was risky. Maybe too risky. He wasn't careful, evoking ghosts of Christmas Past into the conversation; things you had agreed to act like they didn't happen because pride spoke louder than lust in the list of sins.

You turned around now, tired of listening to him, irritated at the image he had brought to the table of your minds. Your body on his, his hands gripping your hair tightly as your legs wrapped around his waist.

"I'm not you side piece" he said. No, he chanted, teasingly, daringly. And as he saw you stopping in your tracks he knew he had hit a nerve, got you precisely where he wanted yoi.

"The only piece you are is a piece of shit"

YEARS EARLIER.

If Charles focused hard enough - really, really hard - maybe he could fight his own body against reacting as hard as it was to Max's secrecy regarding what happened between you two.

"You know, I don't kiss and tell" he said, hands behind his head as he layed down in his bed. They shared a room - they always did, it was natural, something they did so often they didn't even think about it anymore, like breathing or riding a bike,

"You're such an asshole, I'd never do this to you" Charles replied, fake annoyance in his tone as he threw his pillow at his friend's face.

"I may be. But I'm the asshole who won" the pillow flew to its initial place once again, hitting Charles' bed and then the floor, almost in a defeated position itself.

Charles knew something had had happened, mainly because he thought about it so much he knew he had made the thought into a reality. Maybe he was going insane, looking at Max and imagining you under him, your bodies intertwined and faces filled with pleasure. He wondered if it was jealousy or lust that filled him - if there even was a difference. And if it was jealous, who or what was he jealous of?

Running a hand through his hair, he tried to focus. He was upset because he lost. It didn't matter what, he would always be upset over losing; yet this time it pained him more. He had lost to both of you, lost to himself by being left out of something he so desperately wanted.

"I'll beat you someday" Charles said, trying to keep up the joyful mood.

"Will it matter then?" Max asked. It was an innocent question, yet it was also a test: to his own rationality, to Charles' emotions and to where they stood in their friendship.

They locked eyes with each other and for a second the room was so quiet it might've been paused by someone's remote, the silence engulfing them both like a wave.

But as soon as it came, it disappeared. And Charles shrugged, picked up his pillow from the carpeted hotel floor and replied "I think it will to her"

Max allowed himself to close his eyes for a second, wondering if he should speak or not. He laughed at his own twisted thoughts, questioning his own morality as he felt his blood pumping through his veins.

"You know this just makes it hotter for me, right?" he asked his friend in the bed only a bedside table away frim him. "You wanting my girlfriend, all intense and shit."

Charles knew this. He was fighting similar feelings, knowing part of your allure also lied in their own desire for you.

What they didn't know is that you shared these thoughts, your attraction towards both of these men relying not only on their own selves but on their fight for you and each other.

11:00PM

You fidgeted with your wedding ring, looking at the way it adorned your long fingers. You looked at his hand then, both so different from each other.

You were a good wife, weren't you? You supported Max, you listened to him and you made him laugh. You cared about him more than anything else, though that was harder to admit.

Aren't people allowed to have flaws? Wasn't Charles his flaw as well? Wasn't he on the back of both of your minds, wasn't he just another reason why you loved each other so much?

"He went to my workplace today" you said as his head rested on your lap, smooth skin caressing his face. His body stiffened, yet it didn't seem like nervousness was the emotion affecting him.

"I think he's nervous." You continued, knowing his silence was a code for you to keep going.

He chuckled at your words. "About playing against me or you watching him?"

"I think it's more about you watching him than anything." More silence followed. He didn't want to argue with you, not when your touch felt so comforting and your words melted into his ears. "He likes you"

"He respects me" This time he retorted, his hand holding your arm as if in an attempt to wake you up from whatever sleep you were in.

"Same difference" you shrugged.

"For you, it is."

[supernaturalfreewill]

Warnings: drunk adult of legal age lol "Okay, can you navigate the stairs?" Sam asked you, rushing to spot you as you charged forward toward your front porch.

"I'm not THAT drunk," you retorted, and quickly lost your balance on the second step.

"Whoa! Okay..." Sam caught you gently by the elbow and steadied you with another hand on the small of your back. "Let's just slow down a little, yeah?" he laughed, smiling down at you.

You were looking up at him with wide eyes. His were full of so many colors. You found it slightly dizzying. Or maybe that was the alcohol...

"You okay?" he asked, his brow furrowing down.

"Mmm," you nodded. "Sam. I have a secret..."

He laughed again and gently nudged you up the stairs and toward the front door. "You probably shouldn't tell me then," he replied.

You paused to dig around in your bag for your keys, biting your bottom lip. "Well—I mean, if you insist, I guess I could tell you." Your words were slightly slurred and Sam shook his head at you, cocking an eyebrow up.

"I didn't—but go on, I guess," he said, holding the door open when you finally managed to get the key in the lock and turn it. It was pretty clear that what he had to say mattered very little at the moment...

You waved him to come in but he only stood a little nervously on the mat as you dropped your purse and immediately began pulling off your shoes and your jacket. When you were done, you stepped close in front of him again and looked up at him. Sam's eyes flitted down to the soft pout of your lips. "You—you probably shouldn't tell me anything you consider a secret," he said quickly. "You're prettyyy drunk."

"But I want to tell you," you said, still staring up at him.

Sam gulped.

"Sammy—" A jolt of electricity zipped up his back when you said his name like that. You rarely called him 'Sammy'. "—you know, I've had a huge crush on you since the moment we met," you said. Your voice was breathy and low.

Sam gulped again. "Are you sure this isn't just the whiskey talking?"

You shook your head, looking slightly offended that he didn't believe you. "It's not the whiskey. It's true. And the longer I've known you—"

But Sam suddenly gently gripped your shoulders and interrupted you. "Y/N—I'm gonna stop you. You are drunk. And I don't want you to say something you might regret tomorrow."

You looked up at him and a perplexed expression muddled your face. "Why would I regret—"

"Just—trust me. Okay?" His heart was pounding. It took every bit of power he had to stop you from saying what it seemed like you'd been about to say. But he didn't want to hear it this way, with you foggy and fuzzy from a night at the bar and with him unable to feel right about grabbing you and kissing you, worried he'd be taking advantage... "But tomorrow, when you're sober, if you still want to tell me... I promise you I would be—beyond happy to hear it. But for now... goodnight. Drink some water, eat something, and get some sleep, okay? I'll check in with you tomorrow."

Prompt: "Mmmm I have a secret." / "You probably shouldn't tell me then." / "Oh geez, well... I mean... if you insist, I guess I could tell you." / "I didn't but go on, I guess..."

[allthingsfangirl101]

The Reason I Quit – Steve Harrington

I held the test in my shaking hands as I went over the possibilities of how he could react to this. Sure, Steve and I have been dating for two years and are in love. We've even talked about spending the rest of our lives together. But this is big.

About six months ago, Steve and I moved into his parents' house. They moved to California after the "earthquake". When they moved, Steve begged me to move in with him and I did.

This changes things now. A baby changes our situation.

I looked at the clock on the wall and took a shaky breath. Steve would be home in a little over an hour. Which meant all I had to do was distract myself until he got home. To do this, I cleaned as much of the house as I could. Before I knew it, the front door opened and closed.

"Y/N?" Steve called out from the front door. "Where are you, baby?"

I cringed at the last word. I walked out of the laundry room, nervously playing with my hands. I headed downstairs, holding my breath as I waited for Steve to come into view.

"There you are," he smiled. He walked over, took me in his arms, and pressed his lips to mine. He broke the kiss when he realized I wasn't kissing him back.

"What's wrong, gorgeous?" He asked as he studied me.

"I umm. . . I'm just not feeling that well today," I whimped out. Steve reached forward and felt my forehead.

"You don't have a fever," he noted. "Any nausea? Dizziness? Have you been able to eat anything today?"

"Just some crackers," I said honestly. "I feel like I have a rock in my stomach."

"How about this," he started to suggest with a smile on his face, "we order some soup from our favorite diner. I'll run you a bubble bath while we wait. When the food gets here, we'll sit on the couch and watch your favorite comfort movie. Then we'll retire early and you can fall asleep as I rub your back."

"I love you," I sighed.

"I love you too, gorgeous," he said with a small chuckle. "Let's get your bath started and then I'll order dinner."

* * * * *

I didn't tell him.

We went through the night just like he said and I fell asleep with the secret looming over me. The next day he went to work and I snuck to the doctor. Luckily, she didn't ask me who the father was, but she did clarify that I was pregnant. After she confirmed it, I knew I needed to tell Steve.

To keep myself calm while waiting for Steve to come home, I put my feet in the jacuzzi. I didn't bother to go inside and greet him when he got home. I knew he'd find me. He always did.

"Hey, gorgeous," Steve said as he walked over. "You feeling any better?"

"A little," I shrugged as he kicked off his shoes and sat next to me. I smiled when he reached over and felt my forehead. "I didn't have a temperature yesterday and I still don't have one today."

I giggled when he leaned over and kissed my forehead. "Just checking," he smirked as he pulled away. "Are you sure you're alright? You've been acting kinda strange lately."

"Just worried," I stuttered.

"Baby," he sighed, "we got rid of Vecna. It's been safe for almost a year now."

"I know," I said slowly. "I'm still. . ."

"Hey," he whispered, scooting closer to me. "You know I'll protect you from anything that comes our way. I love you, Y/N. Nothing is going to change that."

I really hoped he meant that.

"I love you too, Steve."

A little while later, we were still by the pool, but we were sitting in the pool chairs. I subconsciously placed my hands delicately on my stomach.

"I'm gonna have a cigarette," Steve sighed as he pulled one out and lit it. Without looking, he handed me the container. He looked over at me when he noticed me not taking one. "You're not?"

"No," I said slowly. He lowered his hand as he studied me.

"Is everything okay, babe?" He asked, his voice soft.

"I need to tell you something," I whispered. He placed his cigarette in the ashtray on the small table between our beach chairs. He turned toward me and grabbed my hands, turning me toward him.

"Talk to me, gorgeous," he whispered.

"I don't want you to be angry," I admitted under my breath.

"I promise I won't get angry," Steve said instantly with a small smile on his face. He reached up and tucked a piece of hair behind my ear. "What's on your mind, gorgeous?"

"I'm pregnant," I blurted out, making Steve's hand freeze inches from my face. He stared at me as he slowly lowered his hand.

"Are you. . . Really?" He whispered. I bit back my tears as I nodded. With the hand that he had frozen in the air, Steve reached forward and caught a tear that had escaped. His voice softened as he asked, "Why are you crying, my love?"

"What are you thinking?" I asked, my voice breaking.

"I'm thinking how absolutely amazing this is," he chuckled.

"Really?"

"Of course," he said, his smile falling as he finally dropped his hand. "Why wouldn't I be happy? We've been together for two years, in love for most of that. We've talked about spending the rest of our lives together. Y/N, you're the love of my life and you're pregnant with someone that I'm gonna love just as much as I love you."

"It changes our plan," I whispered.

"I know that," he nodded. "But all it changes is now we're adding one other person to our future. That's an amazing thing."

"But Hawkins. . . A lot of crazy things have happened here in the past five years."

"And we will protect our child from all of it," he said instantly. "Or we could move away."

"You'd really move away from Hawkins? From those kids?"

"For you and our child? I'd go anywhere and do anything for our family."

I grabbed his face and pressed my lips to his. I felt him smile as he started kissing me back. He broke the kiss and looked into my eyes. He looked away and grabbed his lit cigarette. I watched as he put it out.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm quitting."

"But. . ."

"You're not smoking because it's dangerous for the baby," he pointed out the obvious. "I'm not smoking anymore because I want to show you that we're on the same team."

I smiled as he stood up and pulled me with him. He started to walk inside but stopped when he noticed I hadn't moved.

"Are you okay?" He asked.

"What if I can't do this?" I asked under my breath. Steve instantly pulled me into his chest.

"You can do this," he reassured. "You are going to be an amazing mother, Y/N."

"I'm scared," I whispered into his shirt. I felt him take a slow breath.

"I know, gorgeous," he whispered back. He pulled out of the hug and smiled down at me. "To be honest, I am too. But that's okay. We've got each other. And this amazing, awesome, badass baby has both of us. We're in this together. Every step of the way."

Masterlist

[tonguepiercedanyway75]

I need 15 with matty omg (for the prompt list) 🫶🫶🫶🫶

15 -> (stargazing that turns into sex)

thank you for the request :) - 18+MDNI

would love to stargaze with Matty ;)

────────────────────────

The night sky stretches endlessly above as you lay on the blanket, the cool grass beneath you and the vast cosmos above., with his tousled hair laying beside you, his hand casually intertwined with yours. The air is crisp, filled with the faint scent of blooming flowers and the distant hum of city life.

“Look at that,” Matty murmurs, pointing upwards. “Cassiopeia. The queen in her throne.”

You follow his gaze, tracing the familiar W shape of the constellation. “You know your stars,” you tease, nudging him gently.

He chuckles, the sound warm in the stillness of the night. “A little. Think s’ just fascinating y’know.”

Matty takes a drag from his cigarette, the tip glowing a soft orange in the darkness. The smoke curls lazily around his face, adding an air of mystery to his already enigmatic presence. You turn onto your side, propping your head up with one hand, and watch him. There is something hypnotic about the way he moves, each action deliberate and filled with a quiet intensity.

He catches your gaze and raises his eyebrows, “what?” he asks, a smirk playing on his lip.

You shrug, a small smile tugging at your lips. “Just enjoying the view.”

“Yeah?” he chuckles, “fancy a drag?” he holds the cigarette out for you.

You take it from him, your fingers brushing in the exchange. Bringing it to your lips, you take a slow, practiced drag, exhaling the smoke into the cool night air. His eyes follow the movement, darkening with a mix of admiration and something more primal.

“You’ve picked up a habit,” he says, his voice laced with amusement.

You hand the cigarette back to him, your eyes locked. “I did. Because of you.”

His grin widens, a spark of pride and something else lighting up his face. “So, m’ a bad influence, then?”

“Maybe, I don’t mind at all though.”

He ignores your answer and brings the cigarette to your mouth again. You breathe in the smoke and exhale it, like usual.

After that Matty stubs out the cigarette on the ground and leans in to brush his thumb against your bottom lip, biting his own.

His hand cups your cheek, his thumb still your bottom lip as his lips move against yours with a fervor that makes your heart race.

The taste of smoke and mint linger on his lips, a combination that makes you dizzy with desire. You respond in kind, hand slipping around his neck to pull him closer.

Without breaking the kiss, Matty shifts, gently settling himself on top of you. The weight of his body against yours is intoxicating, grounding you in the moment. His hands frame your face as he deepens the kiss, your breaths mingling, the intensity of your connection growing with each passing second.

“You drive me absolutely mad, you know that?” He whispers, his breath warm against your skin.

“Good,” you smile, your fingers tracing the line of his jaw.

“You do know that this is on my fucking bucket list right?” He smirks, sucking sweetly on your neck.

“What is?” You breathe out.

He comes up to your face to kiss your lips, “shagging under the stars.”

Your giggle turns into a whine when he starts grinding his bulge into you. “S what we’re doing isn’t it?”

You don’t answer, hoping for him to just keep the steady rhythm.

“Hm, love,” he pinches your side, “you up for a bit of fun?”

“Mhm,” you nod, “of course.”

“S’ my girl,” he grins, pulling your skirt up, not bothering to undress you because it’s still night and you wouldn’t want a cold.

You’re always turned on around Matty, you’re also a big fan of quickies, the passion and determination in Matty bigger than ever. He pulls your panties down, just on the height of your knees, the cold air not having a chance to hit your core because Matty’s bulge is still rubbing against you.

You feel Matty remove his hands from your waist, lifting his hips to tug his pants and underwear down just enough to free his hard cock, whining into your mouth as he strokes the shaft a few times, his other hand moving to cup your core, running the tip of his middle finger through your folds, whining into your mouth at the feeling of how wet you were, the sensation making you gasp, your lips disconnecting.

“Fucking need you so bad.”

“Think I now,” you tease, before leaning in to press your lips against his again, running your fingers through his hair and tugging lightly, the action eliciting a moan from him.

“Brat,” he hisses, lining his cock up with your entrance, the both of you groaning when he’s finally inside of you. “You’re the dirty one, letting me fuck you whenever I want.”

You breathe in gasps as you adjust to the stretch of Matty’s cock, the tip kissing your cervix and making your mind go completely blank as you grip his shirt in your hands, your eyes falling closed and your head dropping forward to rest your forehead on his shoulder, Matty’s hands running up and down your back as he sighs in your ear. “Squeezing me so good, love.”

Matty pushes his hips into you, his length stroking your walls making you hum in delight. His breath becomes heavy as he pulls out just enough before rutting back in you with skill. Your face begins to feel hot as Matty begins to find a good rhythm. You can feel the sweat building on your forehead, the air cold against your scalp. 

“Can’t believe you’re mine.”

“I am,” you confirm, “m’yours Matty.”

“Jesus,” Matty picks up his pace again, the sound of skin slapping echoing in the room. You feel overcome with an ambitious heat throughout your body. You push Matty’s shoulders up trying your best to cool down without stopping your chase to your high.

You’re literally touching, no gripping grass, trying to chill but Matty’s fucking you so good.

“Tell me you’re close,” he groans, “please.”

“I am Matty.”

“Go on then,” he muses reaching between you two, fingers circling quickly between your thighs to bring you to climax even faster. “Cum f’ me.”

You are, gasping, moaning, writhing underneath him as you lean your head back, seeing actual stars.

“Fuckin’ hell,” he breathes out, pulling out of you after he reached his own climax.

He pulls his boxers and pants up and drops next to you again, lighting his next cigarette.

“You’re everything, darling.”

[amourtoken]

Good morningggg here's the small gift I promised you yesterday 🤲

*NSFW below the cut, MDNI*

cw: somnophilia (preestablished consent)

♡ Nicky is a night owl and could stay up for HOURS, we'll into the sunrise if you let him. You on the other hand? Not so much. You always end up asleep cuddled next to him during whatever task he'd started well too late.

♡ he's also known for coming home from tour at the most random hours, which has led to an agreement between you two. If he needed you that bad, he's more than welcome to use you even if you're not up and functioning like he is.

♡ he wasn't sure about the whole idea at first but he came home from a 3 week run of tours one night after several delayed flights to find you laid on your stomach in bed in just one of his oversized shirts dead asleep and suddenly his mind was set.

♡ he dropped all his stuff at the door of your bedroom and was damn near immediately on you, his hands brushing up your legs and massaging your thighs, stopping to grope your ass under the shirt that barely covered it. He loved how you felt so much softer against his rough hands, everything about you was soft to him.

♡ thankfully for him you were a heavy sleeper. You looked so pretty he rlly couldn't help himself. He nudged himself between your legs trying to not wake you up, settling on his stomach. It was unfair how fucking pretty you looked even while you weren't awake, he missed you so much these last few weeks and all the stress of tour washed away when he buried his face in your pussy (like usual lol)

♡ you squirmed a little but didn't fully wake up, he just had to fucking taste you. He was rutting himself against the sheets while eating you out, trying to find some form of relief from the ache in his cock. He didn't wanna fuck you unprepared though, he wouldn't if you were awake so why change the routine now? Nicky continued lapping at your pussy while working two long fingers into your soaked heat, only slowing when you sighed and rolled your hips back against his face and hands.

"bein' so good for me and you don't even know it, puppy"

♡ he pulled away just to drag his sweats down enough to free his length, dragging the tip through the slick mess he made between your legs before sinking in. You felt so fucking good around him after being away for so long he thought he'd cum right then but tried his best to drag out the pleasure for as long as he could. He set a slow pace, fucking himself entirely into you and brushing your cervix before pulling out nearly all the way. He wasn't trying to be rough, he was trying to savor everything about you.

♡ it was about now that you started to stir a little, Nicky's fingers dug into your hips a little too hard as he tried to shift you into a better position, dragging you back to meet his thrusts. Fuck you missed him so much, but your brain was so foggy from sleep that all you could do was moan his name against the sheets while he stretched you on his cock.

"Hey baby, you okay? Missed this pretty pussy so fuckin' much..."

"Just a little longer princess- promise we'll cuddle after-"

"Pretty baby...doing so fuckin' good for me- just take this cock"

♡ his thrusts picked up in pace a bit once you woke up, chasing his long awaited end. The sleepy little moans and whines falling from your lips made his cock twitch, and the way your ass bounced against his hips made him nearly dizzy. You were everything he could've ever asked for and he felt like the luckiest man in the world, he has the prettiest little girlfriend to fuck himself into whenever he wants <333

♡ Nicky leaned down to wrap an arm around your throat, tugging you up so your back pressed to his chest while he fucked you. The new angle had his cock hitting just the right spot in you, pitching your moans up even higher and making your legs shake. Thankfully he had a good hold on you. His free hand slid down between your legs, stopping at your stomach before just to feel the light bulge his cock created every time he filled you.

"Gonna cum for me? Missed you so much, need you to cum on my cock- please-"

"So tight for me, fuck- getting close?"

♡ his fingers traced quick circles against your clit, making you nearly thrash in his arms. Tears pricked the corners of your vision as your orgasm hit you hard, you dug your nails into Nicky's forearm while he drug you through it, whimpering and moaning profusely. The way you gripped his cock when you came threw him over the edge, he sank his teeth into your shoulder to muffle a loud moan and sank himself balls deep to fill you up with his cum.

♡ rather than pulling out, he damn near toppled over with you in his arms. You were both sweaty, panting messes but he didn't care. He pressed messy kisses up and down your neck, pouring praise into your ear.

"Did so fucking good for me baby- missed you so much..."

"Feels so good...just stay like this for a little longer?"

♡ "a little longer" apparently meant indefinitely, cause it didn't take but a few minutes for you to notice he'd passed out with you I'm his arms, dick still buried in you. You loved being this close to him though so you really couldn't complain. Poor thing was exhausted from tour and just happy to be home :(((

[ifeelthereforeimnot]

GUYS HOLY SHIT I just realized I, at one point in my life, had a Dean.

I don't remember how we became friends, he was just always around until I couldn't remember a time before I'd turn to my left and there he was. And even now, I miss him like a limb I wasn't born with but had grown so used to that I still feel pain where there's nothing.

I realize now that he didn't love me, he owned me. Or maybe it was both. Maybe he didn't know how to do one without the other. But I loved it. I loved being loved. I loved being his. I loved that he had a name for me and only me and would snap at anyone else who used it. "Only I get to call her that." Like a brand, like a collar. And I handed him the leash attached to it, yanking my own head back because the leash is too short but it's the only one I have "here, you dropped this."

He was never impressed by any of the guys I dated. They weren't good enough. He was not interested in hanging out with me and my boyfriend. But he'd always insist I come along with him and his girlfriend. He'd make inside jokes and play funny songs and look into the rear view mirror but never at her. Always at me. "You're about the same size, right?" when buying a gift for his girlfriend. I am. The exact same size. I wonder if he knows that.

"You're like a sister to me," he said. Then he'd hold my hand in class, hidden under the table. Pinkies inching closer and closer until they interlocked, neither of us moving, neither of us so much as breathing so as to not disturb the fragile moment we've created. The bell would ring and we'd pull apart and never mention it again but he'd always sit with his fingers curled around his chair.

"You're like a sister to me," he said into my ear as the wind whipped around us. It was pouring rain but we didn't want to go home. Never wanted to go home. I don't remember why but we were wrapped in each other's arms. It was the logical place to end up. It was safe. It was home. We stayed like that for a long time, pressed chest to chest, cheek to cheek, long after the moment had passed. Long after the intensity had calmed and the passion had simmered and the cold and rain seeped into our bones because we couldn't feed moments like that. We just couldn't.

"You're like a sister to me," he said, turning to face me as we laid on the roof of my old elementary school. It was winter, it was cold, but we had cigarettes and the buzz of adrenaline to keep us warm. We stood at the railing, leaned over the edge and I threw my arms out. He put his arms around my waist, head on my shoulder, go ahead. "IM THE KING OF THE WORLD" and I was. For a minute.

"You're like a sister to me," he said into my hair, loose-limbed and wasted for the first time. I was sprawled across his chest, finally FINALLY. We were always touching but the alcohol lowered every inhibition as to how much. I had only gotten to lay with him once before, after days of no sleep, clinging to each other barely conscious. There was really no other excuse for us to touch this much. So I relished in it, floppy and warm and dizzy myself. "You're like a sister to me," he'd said, "but if you weren't..."

And he just let it hang there. Left me wondering if he'd meant it, if he'd even really said it in the first place. He just left it there like a dark stain on the thinly veiled friendship and now it was there and he acknowledged it and it was there and no amount of scrubbing could get that stain out. Not really. Not completely.

I loved him in a way I'd never loved somebody before. I still don't know, years later, where to place him. He was a brother to me but I'd never had a brother so maybe he wasn't. To call him a friend would be blasphemy, an insult to the way a brush of his fingertips lit up my heart. But to call him more would be a lie.

I can't just put him in a box and tuck him away so that box is just sitting there, still open. It will always be open, I'll always miss that limb. And I think that's why Sam's wife is blurry and his son is named Dean and his impala is sitting in the garage, pristine. He couldn't close the box either.

[just-a-sewer-goblin]

Hostage Secured

John Soap Mactavish x gn!reader

Soooo.. I got a nonnie asking for Soap and his partner in an actual hostage situation but this turned kinda dark...

Also I hope showing readers thoughts getting fucked up worked and isn't confusing while reading

Warnings: torture (not explicit), violence, implied sa (but like only in passing in one sentence), also I'm shit at spelling

Wordcount ~1,8k

You’re not sure how long it’s been. A few hours? A few days? Time is a blur when you drift in and out of consciousness.

You open the door to your apartment, excited to get started on cleaning and preparing everything for Johnny’s return. Tomorrow he’ll come back from deployment and you feel like dancing when you fantasize about being in his arms again. You can practically feel his burly frame against your back, his thick arms wrapped around you. Your smile is giddy as you swing the door open and walk into the apartment.

You don’t even have time to scream when arms emerge from the darkness of the hallway, encircle you and press a cloth to your mouth. The last thought in your head is Johnny. He’ll be so worried when you’re not here tomorrow.

The first time you woke up you were dizzy and disoriented. Before you could even get a good look at the room you’re being held in you have to tilt your head to the side and violently vomit onto the floor.

You have no idea what they did to you but your whole body tightens painfully in the effort it takes to empty your stomach. You sit back up straight, heaving for air.

The chair you’re strapped to is uncomfortable, the ropes on your wrists and legs painfully tight, rubbing against your skin when you shift.

You can feel panic begin to overwhelm you, crawling up your back with ice like claws. Your throat tightens and you feel like vomiting again so you close your eyes tight and think of Johnny. The way his mouth would curve when he teasingly smirked at you. The way he’d hold you. Warm and safe.

Honestly you’ve talked with him about situations like the one you’re currently in. Prepared for the worst. Talked about how not to give information away. How to behave smartly.

Nothing could have prepared you for the harsh reality. The panic is nearly overwhelming and you’re barely keeping yourself from hyperventilating. Your stomach painfully cramping.

No one ever told you, that you could be so scared you’d feel like you’re dying.

That’s when steps approach you from somewhere and you open your eyes again. When the person steps into the light you have to hold onto everything in you not to break out into sobs.

Whoever it is, he’s wearing a red mask that’s identical to Johnny’s. The one he’s shown you in the safety of your shared apartment.

The voice is muffled by the mask, hiding the real sound of it but the grin in it makes you feel sick again, when he says: “I don’t have any questions for you, sweetheart, I’m afraid.”

You grow confused. What is this if not to get information on the task force? Your teeth are locked tight though, not a squeak escaping you. You’d like to claim it’s because you won’t give this scum anything but truthfully it’s mostly because you’re muscles are locked in fear.

The man drags a chair from the shadows with an awful screeching noise and turns it with the backrest towards you, straddling it. “This is purely for our satisfaction. Your man and his little friends fucked with us. No one fucks with us without paying the price.”

Ice cold dread settles in your stomach when he stands again. He slowly walks towards you like a lion approaching his already fallen prey.

You’re forced to look up at him when he reaches into his pocket, pretends to search for something, getting sick satisfaction from the way your eyes track his hand warily. He whips his empty hand back out, already giggling when you flinch and backhands you so hard you fall over with your chair.

Pain races along your face, the shoulder you landed on immediately starts to throb. The man’s laughter is giddy and happy. Hearing it come from behind Johnny’s mask nearly makes you scream but you grit your teeth and stay quiet.

You don’t know how often you’ve lost consciousness since then. You can’t remember the last time you felt anything other than pain. The body you’re trapped in seems to be made of pain and you find yourself wondering when they’ll finally kill you.

You’re not sure you dread that anymore. Not after everything they’ve done.

Still you make the effort to open your eyes, just to discover that you can’t anymore. They’re finally completely swollen shut and the dried blood crusting them doesn’t help with that.

You can faintly make out voices over the static in your ears, or is the static in your brain? You’re pretty sure you can feel ants crawl along your brain, filling your scull with their tiny scratching feet.

Someone should drill a hole in your scull and let them out.

“… had enough fun. They’re probably looking for us, so we should end things now and get going. We have to regroup and rebuilt. But this time they’ll know not to get in our way.”

There’s steps drawing near but you can’t even raise your head in defiance anymore. The last spark of any of that had left you the first time they’d torn the clothes from your body. Some meek little part in you wonders if Johnny is even looking for you.

The mask is burnt into your memory by this point. It’s weird how much it messes with you that they use something you associate with Johnny. Or maybe Johnny really is the one doing all of this to you.

That would explain why he hasn’t come for you. He probably gave up on you. If you concentrate enough you can feel his soft hands cupping your face: “Whatever happens, bonnie. I’ll always make sure you’re safe. I will always come for you.”

Maybe you’re slowly going mad but you could swear it’s his voice when the familiar dark chuckle meets your ears. “It’s time to end this. Was a pleasure playing with you.”

You hope Johnny forgives you for perking up at that. Maybe he can forgive you for hoping they finally put a bullet through your head. They probably won’t, too quick and gentle of a death. But whatever it is at least this time there will be an end to it.

You can hear fabric shift and someone impatiently shouting. “Make it quick, we have to pack our stuff and get going.”

There seems to be mercy in death because you can hear the soft click of a gun. You pray Johnny doesn’t have to see your body, once these guys are done. You pray Johnny puts the bullet through your head.

A deafening bang resonates through the room.

Maybe death isn’t painless after all, you think before all hell breaks loose. Gunshots everywhere, muffles noises of hits and blows being exchanged, men shouting. You can recognize some of your captor’s voices and you feel like laughing when you hear them scream in pain but every single breath hurts.

And then someone approaches you. You’re breathing speeds up again. Then there are hands on you, cutting loose the rope you’re being held with.

“Hostage secured.”, an all too familiar voice rasps and then: “It’s me, bonnie. Ye’r okay now. A’ve got you.”

This must be heaven because that is Johnny’s voice in your ear and his hands on your bruised body. Even blind you recognize his touch. The chaos around you becomes unimportant.

He’s here, he came for you. Johnny is here. You can feel darkness slowly crawl along your spine, reaching your brain, when you finally allow yourself to relax just the tiniest bit.

Strange did you start crying? Your eyes feel wet again. Is it tears or blood? You’re  not sure.

As soon as the ropes are cut you start falling, he catches you and a pained gasp escapes you. No part of your body is untouched and even his gentle hold brings you a new wave of pain.

“I know, I know. I’m so sorry. So sorry.”, Johnny says and if you were more conscious you could hear the wetness in his voice. “Someone get me a fucking medic over here!”, he screams and you flinch.

It’s a tiny movement but immediately his voice grows gentle once more. Funny, you don’t think you’re ever heard his voice sound this frantic. Not your Johnny. He’s never scared but now his voice sounds terrified.

“I’ve got you, bonnie. I’ve got you, never gonna let you go again. It’s okay now. Just stay with me. I’ve got you. Hold on.”

Why does he sound so scared? You can finally relax in his arms? You can finally feel your breathing slow down and it hurts less. It feels almost light.

“Please, baby.”, Johnny begs and you want to tell him it’s okay but you can’t.

You start shivering in his arms. When did it get so cold? When did your heartbeat start to hurt? Your skin feels raw and someone drapes some sort of fabric over you. The sudden pain makes you scream. Weird, you didn’t think you could still do that.

Johnny’s hands tenderly cup your face and the sudden pain makes you sob, near hysterics. Fascinating that you still have enough energy to grow hysterical. Finally you grow hysterical, after all of that.

Medics try to take you from Johnny’s grasp and he growls at them, the sound more animal than human. They have to wrestle him away from you, getting you into an ambulance while he is being held back, snarling like a rabid animal.

“Who did this, bonnie. Who?!”

You whimper, nearly delirious and finally find the strength to answer him with a wet rasp: “You…”

It’s probably for the best you’re too out of it to realize how still Johnny becomes,, processing what you just said, while you’re being taken away.

You miss the way he walks over to Price, looks at the bound men and catches sight of one wearing a replica of his red mask. His fists clench tightly, shaking with effort to hold himself back.

You miss the way he asks: “Do we need him for interrogations? Information? Anything?” The rage in his voice barely contained.

You miss the way price shakes his head and goes: “He’s already bound, Johnny, he’ll get what he..:”

You miss the way Price can’t get out the rest of his sentence before Soap has grabbed the man at the collar and drags him forward.

What follows is a series of sickening crunches, rattling breaths and a concerning amount of gunshots.

Simon and Gaz walk over and stop next to Price, watching the scene. They’re quiet while the man wails in pain. Finally his sounds die down, his breaths growing wet and uneven.

Price sighs and lights his cigar. “One of the targets is KIA, I guess.”

He approaches Soap and puts a hand on his shoulder, looking at the dying man before them.

“You did well, son. We got here just in time, it will be okay.”

[002yb]

Oof I’m a sucker for YJ fics, would you show us this one too?

There’s no one there; it’s all in his head, but when Jason rounds another corner the shadow is bigger, darker, and stretches long across the walls.  Before Jason can stop running, he’s confronted by the silhouette of a monster and a terrified scream catches in his throat–pitiful and pained as Jason crashes into them.  He raises his arm up in time to spare Damian from getting crushed between them, but immediately Jason throws himself back so that he can turn and run in the other direction.  He’s so frantic that he nearly trips over himself, knees so weak that they buckle and it’s only because two hands grab hold of Jason’s upper arms that he stays steady. “Careful, I got you–“ The monster, a man, stammers in surprise.  They’re not laughing, but Jason still hears that grating echo lapped over them. The prolonged and heightened sense of panic makes Jason feel dizzy.  The blood rushing in his ears is loud, the sharp breaths he takes louder still.  Jason’s body freezes on him, caught somewhere between fight and flight as he looks up, shaking with adrenaline and fear.  The man isn’t a shadow.  They aren’t League-affiliated at all based on the state of their dress, but their voice strikes a chord of familiarity with Jason–perking his ears and strangling his heart. It’s an overwhelming feeling that’s quickly brushed aside when the man goes to check on Damian, wailing banshee that the kid is being.  Even if Jason doesn’t sense any malicious intent, he still reacts to seeing a hand raised to the boy, lashing out violently in protective outrage.  Stepping back to create distance and viciously kicking out. “Hey, it’s okay.  I’m not going to—“ They dodge again, stepping out of the way of a quick follow up kick when their back hits a wall.  They say again, “I’m not going to hurt you.  I’m Night—“ They crouch low to the floor, the force of Jason’s kick ruffling their hair, “—Nightwing.  Please, let me help.  It’s not safe here.”

This is an AU where Jason actually blows up the island in an attempt to kidnap Damian and raise him far away from the League. He uses Dick & co's appearance as part of the distraction/cover, but ends up running into Dick who wants to help. (♡ˊ͈ ꒳ ˋ͈)

Somehow this story had 3 different docs to it so I was getting so confused hahaha. One for plot, one for this route, and another that went full whump (and was severely lacking in dickjay because it became Ra’s/Jay abo LOL). But yes, distracted as I got by the whump one, I think this one has a lot of promise!

WIP Game

[hufflepuffwritingstuff2]

Escaping Lucien

Lucien Masterlist

Y/N was just starting to stir when she felt it- pressure on her neck, two tiny pinches, then…nothing. Her breath hitched. Her eyes fluttered open and she glanced at her host. Lucien started to drink, and Y/N barely felt it at all. As the seconds ticked by however, she began to feel warm and dizzy.

“S-stop, stop!” she protested weakly.

She tried raising her arm to strike him, but Lucien took it with his free hand and gently set it back down.

Dark spots encroached on her vision, and her struggles started to die down. Only when she felt her body going limp did Lucien detach his mouth from her neck. Y/N stared up at him through glazed, half-lidded eyes that slowly fluttered shut once more.

…

Lucien wiped the excess blood from his chin, licking it from his fingers. He looked down at Y/N. Unlike his servants or those in the village, her blood was intoxicating. Such a fine source of nourishment should not be squandered. She would need to stay here indefinitely. Yes, it would be much safer here.

“Well done, Y/N. Well done.”

…

It was only when a sliver of early morning light filtered through the deep crimson curtains that Y/N woke up once again. She bolted upright in bed. Her clothes had been replaced with silk sleepwear, and there was a soreness on one side of her neck. The memories of last night were hazy, but the alarm bells ringing in her head were loud and clear. She needed to leave, and fast.

Y/N sprang out of bed. She shoved on the closest pair of shoes she could find and threw the door open. She grabbed a brass candelabra, wielding it like a club, and sprinted from the room. She didn’t bother to wonder what had happened to her day clothes or her luggage. Adrenaline pumped through her every vein, making her face a soft red. The manor was enormous, and with so many twists and turns, it was more like a labyrinth.

She just had her hand on the front doorknob when a gentle breeze wisped through. That wouldn’t be frightening if it weren’t for the fact that all the windows were closed with the heavy curtains drawn shut.

Y/N whipped around, brandishing her candelabra. Lucien stood there, a great pair of bat wings sprouting from his back and his eyes glowing in the early morning light. Y/N stood frozen a moment, before tearing the nearest curtain from its rod, letting the entryway flood with sunlight.

Lucien blinked, seemingly unaffected by the bane of his kind. Y/N’s eyes widened; she clutched her weapon tighter.

“You’re causing quite a stir so late,” Lucien remarked, “or rather, so early.”

“Y-you,” Y/N stammered, “you should be dead!”

“Oh, I’ll probably have quite a few burns after this,” Lucien said, squinting against the light, “but I’m afraid Mr. Stoker has misinformed you. A bit of sunlight is not going to turn me into a puff of dust. Though I am a bit hurt that your first instinct was to kill me.”

“You kidnapped me!”

“Strange, I seem to recall you coming to my domain quite willingly.”

“You did something to my head!”

“Hypnosis.”

“And you bit me!”

“Only to get the blood.”

Lucien looked so calm in the midst of this, even a little amused. It enraged and further frightened Y/N.

She fumbled for the doorknob behind her back.

“Ah, now I’m afraid I can’t let you do that,” Lucien said, stepping forward.

Y/N found the knob, turned it, and went to push the great oaken door open. It… barely budged. She put all her weight on it, but before she could open it all the way, Lucien yanked her back by the arm, pinning her back against his chest.

“Let me go!” Y/N said, thrashing in his hold.

She did about as much good as a worm on a fisherman’s hook.

“Behave,” Lucien hissed in her ear, “or I will resort to ‘doing something with your head’.”

Lucien picked Y/N up in a bridal carry and started to take her back to the room she had woken up in. He deposited her on the bed.

“If you want to live, then you are not to leave this manor. In fact, it might do well if you didn’t leave this room until I come for you.”

Lucien turned, slamming the door shut. It locked with a gentle but audible click. Y/N sat there for a moment, staring at the door, before jumping up and trying to open it. She banged on the door.

“Let me out!” she shouted.

…

Y/N shouts echoed throughout the halls. Lucien rubbed his temples and turned to his servant.

“Make sure she doesn’t starve,” he said, “and bring up the ointment, I’m going to need it.”

Lucien glided away, the beginnings of angry burns forming on his face and wings.

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[theswanqu33nsblog]

Hands on your knees, i'm Angelina Jolie.

Warnings: mention of P and V, 18+, some aggression, f! reader, Smut, mention of feminism, misogyny.

I tried to make my first smut so sorry if there are spelling mistakes or lack of creativity.

You didn't know how out of nowhere you found yourself in front of Kai Anderson, the guy you met in your first days at the gym. You only saw how his hand moved up and down, stroking his cock, which was really an impressive size and not to mention the tons of veins in it, including his hand. His eyes penetrated deeply into yours while he kept his mouth slightly open, letting out moans, while the water from the gym showers fell on his naked body...oh damn how sexy the wet guy looked, wishing you could touch him so intimately, Instead, you were standing there in shock.

You could only notice the small smirk he gave as his hand squeezed his cock tightly, letting out some precum, and then he said. "Maybe you would like to help me with this? Or will you just stand there like a stupid bitch?"

or damn maybe be your fucking bitch.

Obviously without thinking about it and feeling your panties soaked, you removed the towel that you were wearing around your body to shower, even though you were in panties without a bra, he just looked at you from head to toe and told you. "nice tits"

Feeling the crimson color running down your cheeks you took off your flip flops and entered under the rain of hot water from the shower in front of him, his hand that had traces of precum went to your neck and slowly went down to your tits, squeezing your left breast and then his two fingers massaging your nipple making you gasp with need. His free hand went down from your abdomen to your pussy, sliding his index finger right between your slit, taking some of your wet liquid and slowly rubbing it against your clit in a circular motion. "So hot..."

He whispered in your ear, although you could also feel his length bump against your hip, causing your legs to tremble and make you wetter, to which he let out a laugh. You couldn't control it and you decided to open your legs trying to make him enter you and fuck you in the richest way, although he slapped you and clenched his jaw. "You don't understand yet, bitch!? You should listen to your master!"

Out of nowhere, literally out of nowhere, you just felt how he threw you to the marble floor of the shower, taking you by the hips so that you were on all fours, and without caring or prior foreplay, his really hard cock entered you making you gasp. His pelvis crashed against your ass as his hand squeezed your hips, moving back and forth in your soaked pussy.

"fuck...yes...fuck you you fucking bitch"

The amount of vulgar things that came out of his mouth while he fucked you and although it hurt it felt so good, you also felt dirty and somehow denigrated, there was no way you could tolerate this...including how he talked to you, but shit it was It felt so good to be fucked by Kai Anderson.

You felt how his long hand gave you a hard slap on your ass cheek, making you moan even more, while your hands tried to hold on to the wet floor of the shower, he continued spanking you hard while you moaned, your legs clenching a little at the light pain and him, opening you up again to continue fucking you hard. "Fuck! Kai...it hur..."

You couldn't even finish when his pelvis slammed hard into you, his cock massaging the depths of your pussy as he released his hot seed inside you, making sure every last drop filled your womb. You could only feel pure bliss, dizzy and sweaty, not even managing to cum with him, just feeling your knees shake and what he whispered when he pulled his now soft cock out of you.

"I doubt you'll still be a vixen on Twitter after this...let's see if you'll still ask for feminist rights. Whore." And then, he spat at you and stood up, patting you on the ass before leaving, and yes, you were literally used though undoubtedly deliciously by him, now, you should make sure to block him on Twitter just in case.

Damn son of a bitch, but he was so sexy.

[whumpypepsigal]

the latest vampire academy has me all up in my FEELINGS! romitri angst at its PEAK ahhhhhhh. THAT FIGHT. the aftermath?— dimitri wtf did you do? with the enemy? no, wake up dimitri come back from the dark place… ROZA IS YOUR ONLY PERSON.

DIMITRI, MY LOST TORMENTED BOY. I WILL ALWAYS DEFEND YOU.

[nanaslutt]

Passing out in the middle of sex w/ the JJK men

Incl: Gojo, Geto, Nanami, Toji, Sukuna, Choso

Contains: fem reader, stomach bulge (geto's), rough sex, teasing, dirty talk, fluff, comfort, oral (f!receiving), multiple positions, hair pulling, masturbation, sugar baby!Toji, Virgin!Choso

MDNI

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ

Gojo:

"Fuck- take my fucking cock baby, take that shit-" Gojo groaned in your ear, his hands gripping your hair, right against your scalp, as he gave you the meanest fucking backshots, bullying his fat cock into your cunt.

Tears streamed down the sides of your flushed cheeks, soaking into the sheets your face was pressed into. Gojo's body was hunched over yours, his hand pressing into the sheets on the side of your body, giving him the perfect leverage to keep himself up while he fucked you nice and deep.

"Sa-toruuu-" You cried, your moans coming out strangled and choked from the way his cock was assaulting your sweet spot so deep inside you. "What is it? Talk to me, baby." Gojo cooed, sucking in a breath through his teeth when he felt your cunt clench tightly around him as his tip hit a particularly sensitive spot inside you.

"S-slow down p-pleasee~" You tried to beg, the words spilling from your lips being barely distinguishable from how slurred they were. Gojo giggled, followed by his hand gripping your hair tighter, making your scalp ache. "I dont think I will..." Gojo cooed, pretending to pout when you cried harder in response.

"You were rubbin' all up on me, interrupting my phone call with Nanamin because you wanted my cock so bad. Now you're cryin' about how it's too much?" Gojo said, scrunching his eyebrows at you in faux sympathy. "Nah, you're gonna take it, sorry mama I really am." He finished, emphasizing his words with a harsh thrust into your cunt.

Your hands dug into the pillow you were holding on to for dear life as he sped up his thrusts, rolling his hips just right so he was obliterating your g-spot, making you see stars in your vision. You tried to beg and cry for reprive, but Gojo was not listening at all, his hand shoving your face harder against the pillow instead as he silently told you to shut up and take it.

Gojo's cock always made you see stars and feel dizzy, but something was different this time. Your vision started to trickle more and more with those fuzzy black dots as he fucked you closer and closer to your orgasm, your eyes struggling to stay in their sockets as they rolled back continuously in your head.

"You cumming baby? You just got so much tighter, fuck!" Gojo groaned, his hand letting up on shoving your head down slightly so he could lean back and rub your clit with the hand that was holding you up. The sneaky thing slinking between your legs and rubbing quick circles against your bud caught you off guard, resulting in a loud cry being ripped from your lungs, making Gojo laugh as you spasmed on his cock, your orgasm taking you by surprise as it wracked your body with tremors.

You opened your mouth in a silent cry as you came, and before you knew it, you were out cold. Your arms going limp under the pillow, your eyes rolling back before they shut completely as you blacked out. "F-fuck-" Gojo hadn't noticed that you passed out, only seconds after he felt your cunt spasm around him, he released your head and placed his hand on your ass, gripping the fat as he pulled out of your pussy, his other hand immediately wrapping around his cock, jerking himself off hastily as he groaned through his orgasm, hot ropes of cum landing all over your ass and back, as Gojo decorated your skin so prettily with his seed.

Your body still trembled in your sleep, but your breathing had evened out. If not for Gojo's hand on your ass, you would've fallen on your side completely. "Shiiiiit, so fucking pretty." Gojo laughed through the last shocks of his orgasm, wringing his cock out over your ass as he made sure he painted your skin with every last drop of his cum.

"You're so quiet baby, you alright?" Gojo asked, tilting his head to the side as he tried to get a better look at your face. Usually, you whined or something when he came all over you, the sensation of his cum on your back making your body jolt in surprise--something. "Baby?" He started to get worried, tucking his cock into his sweats quickly he leaned over you, his hand sliding up your body.

The second Gojo wasn't holding you up anymore, you collapsed against the sheets, your chest rising and falling steadily as you slept. "Oh shit, came so hard you passed out?" Gojo smiled softly, scooping your body into his arms effortlessly. Gojo relaxed when your head tipped limply against his naked chest, your breath tickling his skin. "Maybe I did go too hard, sorry baby~" Gojo cooed, kissing your forehead.

"Alright~ Upsiedasiesy~ Let's go get you cleaned up you drama queen." Gojo smiled to himself, lifting you off the bed as he carried you to the bathroom to clean you up all nice so you didn't wake up a sticky mess in the morning. You were already going to beat his ass in the morning for not listening to you when you told him to slow down, it was the least he could do. Satoru listened to you during sex after that. For the most part.

Geto:

Geto had you in the meanest mating press, your legs over his shoulders, body folded over on itself as he leaned his large frame over yours, slowly but roughly fucking his massive cock into your cunt, stretching you out. Geto was obsessed with watching your eyes roll back in your head each time he thrust his dick to the hilt inside you, his ego swelling each time your face scrunched in painful pleasure from the sheer size of him.

"You feel me in there baby? Feel me in 'ur fuckin' stomach?" Geto groaned, his hand sliding between the two of you to press harshly against your stomach, feeling his cock through your pelvis. Your eyes shot open in alarm, the feeling of his cock being ten times more intense as your g-spot was now forced down to meet his cock.

"S-suguru d-dont press there!!" You tried to tell him, your hands around his neck digging into his skin, sure to leave angry red marks all over his back from your nails. "Su-suguuu!!" You cried. Each time he pulled his cock out and fucked it back inside you it felt like your guts were falling out, your body molding around him when he thrust back inside as he made room for his stupidly large cock.

"But it feels so fucking good-" He groaned, pulling his lip between his teeth as he felt his cock thrust inside you from the outside of your body. "Cmon sweet girl, look~" Geto grabbed your arm, pulling it off of his back, your nails scratching his skin in the process as he let up the pressure of his hand on your tummy, placing your hand where his once was before he pressed his over yours, returning the pressure as he made you feel his cock through your skin.

"You feel that? I'm so deep huh?" Geto cooed against your lips, feeling your rapid breaths tickle against them as you basically hyperventilated from how intense it felt. "Y-yes I feel it- fuck!" You whined, your head tipping back into the pillow, your eyes rolling back in your head, your lids following, shutting around them.

Geto kept your hand pressed there as he leaned forward, sucking hickeys into your neck, his hips fucking faster into you when he felt like your pussy was loosened enough. "Ah- ah- ah-" He fucked short, desperate cries from your lungs with each thrust, your fingers tangling in his long hair, gripping against the strands for dear life.

Your legs ached from the position as he pummeled your cunt, giving you deep thrusts as he pulled his cock out almost entirely before thrusting it back into you. "Sugu- It's too deep- too much-" You cried against his ear, your face only flushing redder and redder the longer he fucked into you.

"Shhh, you can take it, just let me give it to you princess, let me fuck you like this." He whispered back, his breath tickling your neck as he spoke, his lips going back to suck against your neck as he disregarded your words. You cried on his cock all the time, complaining about how it was 'too much' but you never meant it, always complaining and asking why he stopped when he actually did slow down, so why would it be any different this time?

"N-no Sugu reallyyy- t-too much-" You tried to whimper out, your eyes squeezing together tightly as the pressure in your stomach became too much. The pleasure was overwhelming, and his weight pressing against you was overbearing, your body couldn't take it anymore. Your jaw dropped in a gasp right before your body went limp, your mind going completely blank as you passed out, mid stroke.

Your hand loosening in his hair and falling limply against the sheets was all he needed to know something wasn't right. Within seconds of you passing out, Geto pulled his head back from your neck to look at your face, noticing how relaxed it was as your head laid to the side against his pillow. He stopped his thrusts completely, his eyebrows raising in surprise as he let your legs fall from his shoulders, his hand caressing your cheek.

"Baby?" Geto spoke, shaking your head softly, your head jostling limply in his hold. He pulled his cock out of you that instant, his thighs straddling your hips as he cradled your face in both of his hands, shaking a little harder as he tried to wake you up. "Cmon pretty, wake up for me." He mumbled to himself, tapping his fingers against your cheek.

He sighed in relief when you stired awake, gaining your consciousness. "There you are." He smiled, his cock still throbbing hard pointing upwards as he crawled off of you, sliding to the side of your body, running his hands over your cheeks. "You passed out on me baby." He explained when you looked at him slightly confused, your face instinctually leaning into his touch.

He lifted your body with ease from under your arms, making you sit on his thighs, facing him. You leaned forward onto his chest, your shaky body absorbing his body heat. "Asshole..." You mumbled into his skin, wrapping your arms under his, your hands resting on his back. His cock twitched when it was pressed against your stomach, but he did his best to ignore it. "I told you it was too much." You chastized, hiding your face in his chest as you blushed in embarrassment, you cant belive you actually just fucking passed out during sex.

"I'm sorry baby, I didn't know you were serious." He said, trying to hold back his giggles as he soothingly rubbed his hands over your back. "Asshole, asshole, asshole, asshole." You repeated, one of your hands sliding out from his arm to weakly slap at his naked chest, your blush only growing deeper. You wished you would pass out again to excape how embarrassing this was.

"I know, I know. I'm an asshole." He agreed, pressing his lips together as he looked down at you fondly as you took your anger out on him. He knew you were embarrassed, so if this is what made you feel better so be it. The fact that he was still hard only added to your irritation, your face feeling as hot as the sun as you smacked him harder, "Pervert, pervert, pervert, pervert." You groaned, your chant switching between the two.

"I'm sorry, I can't help it." He laughed, squeezing tightly around your body, pressing your arms flush to his body so you couldn't hit him anymore. You blushed furiously and helplessly against him as your body was restrained by his sheer strength. "Are you okay baby? Seriously." He asked, tipping his head to the side as he looked at you, his hand stroking over your head. "I-I'm fine." You blushed at his sudden demeanor change.

"Good, also I think we might want to establish a safeword from now on." He added, your eyes darting around the room as he leaned down to press a kiss to the top of your head. You hummed in agreement, still trying to recover from the massive hit to your pride passing out had done to it.

"Let's get you cleaned up, yeah? I'll run you a bath and make you some tea, okay? Sound good princess?" Geto asked, his large hands running over the expanse of your back, making your body relax against his unconsciously as you nodded against him, feeling your eyelids grow heavy with sleep.

Nanami:

"Mmm..." Nanami moaned against your clit, shaking his head back and forth along your folds while he sucked your clit between his lips, his tongue flicking against it in his mouth. "Fff-uck!!" You cried, your thighs squeezing around his head as he ate you out like a man starved.

Your hands dug into his hair tightly, your nails raking against his scalp to ground yourself, Nanami's long fingers curled right against your sweet spot inside you, his quick thrusts only adding to the already loud squelching coming from between your legs, making the tips of your ears turn red in embarrassment. You fought your head to stay down, looking at Nanami, you didn't want to miss the sight of your gorgeous husband eating you out.

It's not like it was a rare occurrence, Nanami ate you out every single time before the two of you had sex, but it was a sight to behold every single time. You never got tired of the sight of his lidded eyes staring at yours, the entire half of his lower face covered in your slick, his usually uniform hair being strewn in every direction as you ruffled the strands, your hands pushing his bangs out of his face to get a better view of him.

One of Nanami's hands was pressed between his body and the bedsheets as he jerked himself off while he ate you out, unable to ignore the throbbing pleasure in his cock he got from tasting you. He stroked his cock to the pace of his fingers inside you, trying to mimic the way your cunt felt around him.

"Oh fuck- Nanami right there-" You moaned, your jaw dropping in a small o when he sucked your clit just right, his fingers stabbing into your spot simultaneously, causing the most delicious pleasure to wrack through your body. Your back arched as you pressed Nanami's head agaisnt your pussy, keeping him in that exact spot that had you seeing stars. "Fuck don't stop- k-keep sucking my clit I'm gonna cum-" You gasped, your words coming out breathily as you threw your head back, your eyes screwed shut from the pleasure.

Nanami groaned into your folds, his hand jerking faster over his cock when he felt your cunt pulse faster around his fingers. "Nggghhhh-" You whined as the pleasure took over your body, your thighs snapping shut around your husbands head as he continued to suck your clit into his mouth, his fingers fucking into you as he worked your though your orgasm.

Your body jerked forward, hands digging into his hair as you cried out his name as you felt your release squirt into his mouth. Nanami drank up all of you hungrily, his tongue lapping at the base of his fingers when you started to come down from your high, his adam's apple bobbing as he greedily swallowed up all of your cum.

"Good girl, good fucking girl." Nanami groaned against your clit, his voice coming out hoarse. You whined as his fingers continued thrusting inside of you, his hand still jerking quickly over his cock. You thought he was going to stop after you came, but you quickly realized after trying to push his head away to no avail, that that was not the case. Nanami was in one of his moods, and he was not done eating your pussy quite yet.

"Fuck- Ken waitttt- It's sensitive Kento-" You cried, your hands pushing at his head harder, trying to get him to let up. His hand that was jerking himself off shot out from under him to grab at both of your wrists, pushing them off of his head as he gripped them over your pelvis, his eyes shooting daggers at you.

You whined, your body thrashing and jerking in oversensitivity as he kept fucking you, continuing the same rough pace as before, your poor clit being assaulted by his ruthless tongue as he battered at it. "Oh g-oddd-" You groaned, your face scrunched in the overwhelming pleasure as he fucked you quickly towards another orgasm.

You thought the black dots that started to speckle your vision were because of your impending orgasm, but you would be sorely mistaken. Your entire body tensed before it relaxed against the sheets, your head fell back against the pillow, your hands loosened in Nanami's hair, and your thighs relaxed with the rest of your body as you fell unconcious.

Nanami's eyes were screwed shut as he shook his head back and forth, but they peeled open when he noticed how your body relaxed at once. He was met with your peaceful-looking face as your body laid slack agaisnt the sheets. He quickly raised from between your thighs, wiping your cum from his mouth with the back of his hand he reached over you and caressed your face, calling your name repeatedly.

It didn't take much for you to come to, you were only out for maybe a total of thirty seconds. You awoke to Nanami's body hovering over yours, his flushed face staring at yours with concern. "Hey there." He smiled when you fully opened your eyes. The first thing you noticed was how sore you felt between your legs, your face scrunching in discomfort.

"I'm sorry, that was too much wasn't it?" Nanami immediately apologized, his face softening as he caressed your sleepy-looking face. "I- I didn't know I was going to pass out, I'm sorry." You replied, looking away from his gaze. Sure, it did feel intense, but nothing more than you haven't felt before.

"Don't apologize sweet thing, it was my fault, I should be more careful. I got carried away." Nanami said honestly. Your shaky hands reached up to wrap around his neck, pulling his face down to meet your own. His lips met yours in a soft kiss, full of love and compassion, before you pulled away, looking at him with a red face.

"I'm okay, It's alright Ken." You reassured, rubbing your fingers over his undercut, making him practically purr. He sighed in relief before his body was pressing against yours, his arms wrapping under your body. "You had me worried. Never passed out on me before." Nanami spoke into the crook of your neck, pressing light kisses into the skin there.

You giggled, wrapping your arms tighter around his neck, keeping him tightly against you. "Kento." You spoke after a couple seconds, making him hum into your neck. "You're really hard. I can feel it on my leg." You whispered, blushing at your own words. Nanami cleared his throat before he spoke, his head pulling up from your neck to look at your face, "Ah, sorry. Ignore that, I'll go take care of it." He said, the tips of his ears turning red.

You pulled him back down towards you when he tried to get up to take care of his little problem. "That's not what I meant." You said, looking into his eyes while you bit your lip. "I uh... I'm up to keep going if you want. You haven't even put it in yet." You said, running your fingers up the back of his head, sending goosebumps down his spine.

"I don't know if that's a good idea..." Nanami said softly, trying to ignore how hard his cock twitched in his sweats at the proposition. "Ken I'm okay I promise. Please? I want you inside me." You whispered, wrapping your legs around his hips. Those words were all he needed to hear. Looking between your bodies before he pressed his clothed cock agaisnt your cunt, he looked back up at you before he spoke, "Are you sure?"

You humped your hips up to meet his as you nodded, "I'm sure, please." You said once more, moaning softly when his tip bumped against your sensitive clit. With a sigh, Nanami leaned forward, hovering his lips right above yours, "Alright... I'll be careful."

Toji: cw: toji keeps going after you pass out, breeding kink

"Dirty fuckin' girl, pussy is fuckin' swallowing up my cock," Toji growled, yanking your hips back to meet his, his heavy balls slapping against your clit roughly, making you whine in painful pleasure. You arched your back, throwing your ass against him to meet his thrusts, your hands against the sheets holding yourself up giving you the perfect leverage to fuck yourself on his cock.

"Fuck Toji- Harder- give it to me harder-" You begged, biting your lip as your eyes crossed at his cock pounding against your g-spot, his fat tip absolutely obliterating it. "Anything for my favorite client~" Toji groaned, smirking at your shameless show of your need for him, his hips pulling back further as he fucked all 8 inches into you faster, pulling out to the tip before he bullied it back inside you.

"Ohmygoddd-" You whined, your cunt gushing around him as he fucked you just how you liked, his hands sneaking under your body to rub at your clit, adding to your pleasure. "How's that feel mama? Am I giving it to you good? You like when I fuck you hard like this?" Toji cooed, groaning through his words. You fucking loved how filthy his mouth was.

Toji wasn't quiet outside of the bedroom, but he wasn't exactly a man of many words. During sex, however--this beast of a man got pussy drunk on you quick every single time, the feeling of your familiar tight, wet walls around him never failing to make his lips loose, filth spilling from his lips without a second thought the second they popped into his fucked out head.

"Yes T-toji, feels so good- you're s-so deep-" You whined back, feeling tears start to well up in your eyes. Toji groaned at your words, his finger rubbing faster across your clit, his movements becoming sloppy as your words worked him up to no end. Toji would never admit it out loud, but he had a major praise kink. He could feel his cock leak pre-cum every time you told him how good his cock felt inside you.

"Yeah, pretty girl? Feels that good? You fucking love this dick huh?" He babbled, sucking air in through his teeth when you clenched around him. "Yes Tojiiii, love it so much- fucking love your dick- g'na make me cum-" You cried, your words coming out slurred. Toji loved how easy it was to make you cum, your body was so sensitive to his every touch it drove him up the fucking walls.

"Good girl, this fucking dick loves you too." Toji laughed through a groan. "'M gonna cum with you pretty girl, where do you want it, hm? Where do you want my c-cum? he added, feeling his cock twitch inside your cunt with his impending release.

"I-Inside inside please- cum inside me-" You babbled, the upper half of your body falling against the sheets as your arms gave out. Toji's body chased yours, his hands planting on the sides of your body on the bed as he humped his cock into you, his fingers not letting up on your clit as he rubbed small quick circles into the little bud.

You felt so dizzy with his cologne filling up your nose with his proximity. He hooked his fingers into your already open mouth as he gave you hard, deep thrusts, fucking you both toward your orgasms. "Yeah? Want me to fill you up? Cum deep inside your tight little cunt?" Toji groaned against the shell of your ear. "Might knock you up, bet you'd like that though huh? Bet it makes you feel all hot jus' thinkin' about it, can feel your pussy tryna' milk my cock right now." He babbled.

You didnt even have time to respond before you were gasping agaisnt his fingers, your eyes rolling back in your head as his cock fucked your orgasm out of you, his hips rolling into your ass, the tip of his cock massaging against your sweet spot so perfectly, making your eyes roll back in your head. "Oh shit- so fucking tight-" Toji groaned as you came around him, your pussy spasming around him.

You severely underestimated how hard your orgasm was. Barely three seconds into it and you were blacking out, your arch falling as you fell limply against the sheets, Toji's hips chasing yours as he continued fucking into you with reckless abandon. "Oh shit, did'ya pass out, pretty?" Toji groaned, his hands pressing into the sheets next to your body as he continued humping into your warm cunt, his eyes taking in the sight of your relaxed face.

"Shit-" Toji laughed, feeling a whole new wave of arousal wracks through him, "You don't mind if I finish right? 'M so fucking close~" He cooed at you as you breathed steadily against the sheets, your cunt still sucking him in as tightly as it was while you were awake. Toji smirked as he picked up his pace, his cock pistoning in and out of you with loud squelches. "Yeah, you don't mind. Such a good girl for me, always so fucking good." He praised, feeling himself on the edge.

"Fuck- I'm cumming princess, gonna fill you up just how you w-wanted. Sorry, you're not awake to f-feel it. There's gonna be so fucking much." He babbled, his hips losing their rhythm inside you right before he came. Your body jostled limply as he used your cunt to get himself off, his hips stilling agaisnt your ass as he shot rope after rope of his hot cum inside you, groaning loudly through his teeth as he did so.

"Yeah take that fucking load- goddd. Suck me so good even when you're out. Heh." he huffed out a laugh as he rolled his hips agaisnt your ass, making sure he gave you every last drop of his cum. He let himself relish in the feeling of your warm walls spasming around him for a few seconds longer before he pulled out, his cum chasing his cock as it dripped out of your tight hole, dribbling down your pussy.

Sitting back on his heels, he scooped his cum up with his fingers before he shoved them inside you, making sure his cum stayed nice and deep in your pussy. "Guess I gotta wake you up now, huh?" Toji said to himself, his eyes taking in how peaceful you looked. "Time to get up sleeping beauty. Daddy needs his payment." He said half joking as he crawled up your body and slapped your cheek softly before following it up with a gently rub, trying to wake you up.

Sukuna: cw: heian era true form sukuna, monsterfucking, rough sex, cervix fucking, degradation, stomach bulge, misogyny if you squint, squirting, semi-soft Sukuna at the end

"That's the best you can do? Your reputation does not precede you, I thought you could take cock with no problem, hm? Should I have chosen someone else?" Sukuna teased, pouting as you struggled to ride his massive cock, your hands jerking his second cock in tandem as you tried to bounce on the other.

Sukuna had never picked up a girl from a whorehouse before, but with your reputation running rampant across the village he resided in about how well you supposedly took cock, he decided to give it a shot. He was only teasing when he said he should've chosen someone else. You were easy on the eyes, and he would be lying if he said he didn't love watching a pretty girl struggle on his cock.

Usually, he would be fed up with this slow, weak pace, but he was in no rush today, so he decided to have a little fun with you. "I've n-never taken someone as big as you m-my lord." You whined, your hands squeezing around his tip harder when his cock hit your cervix painfully as you sat down on it.

"No? Is that why you're being such a crybaby?" He asked, tilting his head at you as he watched fat tears roll down your rosy cheeks, mixing with the sweat beading on your neck. His eyes watched how your tits bounced as you rode him, only taking in about half of his cock as the whole thing proved to be too painful.

"Fuckkk-" You groaned, ignoring his words as you tried to focus on taking his cock the best you could. Sukuna sat back agaisnt his throne, two inhuman arms spread over the armrests on his throne, two placed on your thighs, his long nails digging into your thighs as you rode him.

The slow pace was annoying, sure, but it was doing something for him to watch your face twist in painful pleasure as you fucked him. "L-lord Sukuna, P-please, a little help please-" You whined, feeling your legs start to ache from riding him for so long, your stomach starting to cramp from how deep he was inside you.

"How shameless." He tsked, "We just met, you fuck me at the pace of a snail, and now you dare to ask me for help? What terrible manners." He chastised before his strong hands pulled you down against him completely, his cock fucking into your cunt as deep as it could go, his tip knocking painfully against your cervix.

You cried out in pain, the sound sending blood rushing to his cock, a sinister smile spreading across his face as he watched you writhe on top of him, your hands leaving his second cock to press over the bulge in your tummy, your jaw dropped in awe. "It's deep huh? I can see it poking through your skin." Sukuna growled before his hands slit to your waist and used the leverage he had there to fuck you on his cock like his own personal cocksleve.

"S-sukunaa!! L-ord Sukuna p-please! It's too much!" You cried, your hands grabbing his thick wrists as he fucked you at an inhuman pace--fitting. Sukuna looked at you almost disgusted, confused, you couldn't tell through the tears blurring your vision. "What a selfish girl." He growls. "I thought you wanted help? But now it's too much? Make up your mind, dumb woman."

You could do nothing but cry and scream as he impaled you on his cock. You've never felt anything like how you were feeling right now, it was so intense. You swore the second you walked out of here, you were going to go straight to the infirmary to check if he had punctured your stomach open, because it sure as hell felt like it.

"And now she can't even talk, how pathetic." Sukuna tsked, looking at you with a face full of disappointment. You could barely register the small sinister smirk spreading across his face before you felt the reason for his demeanor change on your body. Looking down you saw a mouth the size of a small child had manifested on his stomach, and a thick tongue was poking out between the lips to lick at your pussy.

"H-huh!?" You yelped in surprise when the tongue battered harshly against you, sending sparks through your tummy. "Surely you'll be able to move your hips now, hm? This spot here makes women so sensitive." Sukuna cooed, watching how the tongue on his stomach emphasized his words by trying to focus on your clit. The attempt proved to be a little difficult from the size difference of your small clit to his tongue, but you seemed to be enjoying yourself nonetheless.

"Wait- w-wait please p-lease wait-" you cried, the feeling of his tongue quickly becoming overwhelming. The cock not inside you was dripping pre-cum all over the outside of your tummy, the appendage having a strong curve as his tip was being rubbed against your skin. Before Sukuna could spew more mean words, a clear liquid was being sprayed across his abdomen, making his eyes open in surprise.

Sukuna had never seen anything like it before. The liquid dripped down his cock, and all over his abdomen, some of it even landing on the stomach mouth as he lapped it up greedily, tasting the liquid. While Sukuna was still taking in this new sight, your body collapsed limply against his chest, his hands freezing in place as he looked down at your smaller frame agaisnt him, breathing peacefully unconscious as if you weren't currently tending to him.

"You're kidding me," Sukuna growled, the prominent vein in his forehead popping out as he ran his hand through his hair, sighing at the current predicament. "Human women are so weak." He sighed, continuing to rake his eyes over your frame as you slept without a care in the world against him. "I have no interest in fooling around with a sleeping person. So boring." He said, his lip raising in untinerest.

His cock was still hard inside of you, his mind still replaying what had happened moments before you passed out so selfishly. How could you expose him to something like that then pass out? He wanted to see it again. His eyes studied your face, and after some time he found himself thinking you looked almost cute.

He didn't recognize the feeling, chalking it up to amusement as one of his large hands rested on your lower back. his eyes finally looking away from your frame as he looked around the empty room around him. "You better wake up soon, girl. I'm not done with you." Sukuna growled, relaxing against his throne as he waited for his little plaything to awaken.

Choso:

"Fuck- oh god this feels so good-" Choso cried, humping his big cock desperately and sloppily inside your cunt. Choso was a virgin prior to your interaction now, and you had somehow convinced him to let you take his virginity from him. You had always been attracted to the half-curse, so you thought this was a brilliant idea.

What you hadn't accounted for, was the possibility that this innocent man had a horse cock between his thighs. Choso had thought there was something wrong with his equipment when you stared at his cock like it was something foreign after he pulled it out of his pants. "I-is there something wrong?" He had asked insecurely.

Your eyes merely dragged up to meet his eyes slowly, the awestruck look still on your face, your jaw dropped in a small o shape as you stared at him incredulously. When you told him his cock was the biggest you'd ever seen, he looked almost confused, proceeding to ask you if that was a good thing. Choso clearly had no idea how big he was, and he definitely had no idea how to use it.

He was so oblivious to how much damage his dick was currently doing to your pussy. You briefly taught him how to stretch you out on his fingers, but even as thick as they were--they did little to prepare you for the girth and length of his cock. You bit your bottom lip as you tried to conceal your moans, trying your best to instruct Choso how to fuck you correctly.

His reckless, sloppy thrusting did feel good nonetheless, but you knew with a cock his size--that it could feel even better if he fucked you with some sort of a technique. "C-choso- a-aim your hips up when you t-thrust inside me," You whined, your hands reaching down to grab his hips and pull them towards you, trying to give him some direction. "L-like this?" Choso asked, thrusting into you at a new angle, the tip of his cock pistoning straight into your sweet spot.

You sighed out in sweet relief at how good it felt. "Yes~ Fuck yes, right there Choso, keep fucking me right there, just like t-that," You praised, your eyes rolling back in your head as it fell back against the pillow. You allowed Choso to have his way with your body as your relaxed against the sheets.

It was a smart move on your end to suck Choso off and make him cum once before he fucked you, he was lasting longer than you thought he would for a virgin. "God- It's so tight. Is it always this tight?" He asked, staring between where the two of you were connected, beads of sweat rolling down the sides of his face.

"Mhmm- y-yeah." You answered, only half listening to his question as he fucked you just right, his fat cock hitting all the right spots inside you. "It's so warm too... I love this, I love fucking you like this. I- I don't want this to end." He babbled honestly, quickly becoming pussy drunk as his eyes searched for yours. You looked down at him, meeting his desperate, puppy-like gaze.

Smiling at his sweet face, you placed your hands on his cheeks and pulled him towards you, your lips grazing against his. "Me neither Choso, keep fucking me. Your cock feels s-so good inside me." You whispered against his lips, resulting in a whine from the dark-haired man before you pressed your lips to his, swallowing up all his gasps and whines.

He kissed you sloppily, but his beginner technique felt good as he tried to copy you, licking into your mouth, and tangling his tongue with yours. "This feels good," He pulled away to moan aginst your lips before leaning back in to continue making out with you.

His honesty made you hot all over, you don't think you've ever been with a guy as verbal and sweet as Choso. "So good Cho, you're doing so good." You groaned against his lips, seeing stars behind your eyes each time he fucked his cock inside you.

He pulled back from the kiss as he placed leaned back on his heels, pulling your thighs over his as he fucked into you in the new position. This position allowed his cock to fuck straight into your g-spot, making you cry out loudly for him. "Holy fuck-" You groaned, your eyes rolling back in your head at how intense it felt.

Choso groaned at your response, his face heating up at the feeling of your walls squeezing around him tighter at this new angle. While the curse took in how your body moved and bounced under him, his eyes latched onto a small pearl-looking thing right above the hole he was fucking into, the bead being covered slightly with a flap of skin.

The sudden urge to touch it came over him as he reached out for it, "Can I touch right here?" He asked. Before you were able to look down at what he was referring to, you felt his thumb on your clit, the pad of it rubbing along the nub with pinpoint accuracy. The added sensation of him touching your clit made you scream out for him.

The fact that this half-curse had manifested less than a year ago, was currently losing his virginity, and had found your clit with such ease, better than most people you've had who weren't virgins and had been alive for however many years-- sent you spiraling. "Fuck Cho w-wait-" You tried to warn him it was too much, but it was too late.

Your vision went blurry and your head spun as little black dots clouded your vision before you blacked out, falling unconscious in the middle of him fucking into you and harshly rubbing at your clit. "H-huh?" Choso stopped moving when he looked down and noticed your limp body. He called out you name, and to no avail, not even a twitch of response from your out-cold body.

He stayed inside of you, frozen in place as he tried to think of what to do. "A-are you okay?" He asked, his hand shaking the side of your body gently, your body jiggling with his touch. "I don't know what to do..." He mumbled, looking around the room like the walls would come to life and give him guidance.

"Hey, you okay?" He repeated again, leaning over your body to shake your face, his cock still snug inside you. You winced and groaned as you came to, your eyes cracking open once more. You were met with Choso smiling softly at you, looking relieved. "You fell asleep. I wasn't sure what I was supposed to do. Are you okay?" He asked, keeping his hand on your face, rubbing the sweat from your skin.

"Fuck... Choso I'm sorry, I bet I scared you huh?" You said apologetically, your hand cupping over his as you rubbed the back of his hand. Choso pouted before he responded, "Don't be sorry, I was a little startled, but I think that was my fault." He said, a light blush dusting across his cheeks. "Does that normally happen?" He asked, tipping his head at you.

You laughed, your hand caressing down his arm. "Not usually no, it's definitely never happened to me before, you're dick is just too good Cho." You giggled, watching how embarrassed he got when you said that. "I-I don't know." He said, looking away from your face in embarrassment--he really was oblivious.

"No?" You teased, purposefully squeezing your cunt around his cock, making him hiss at the sensation, his eyes fluttering shut. "Why don't you fuck me some more, hm? I'll tell you all about how good your cock makes me feel." You whisper teasingly, your hand coming up to stroke his cheek, pushing his stray hair away from his face.

"Is that okay?" He asked hesitantly, "What if you pass out again?" Choso swallowed all the saliva in his dry mouth, feeling himself throb inside your walls. He really did want to keep going, but he was afraid of you passing out again. "It's okay, just take it easy, and maybe don't touch my clit for now." You added, laughing, making him blush as he nodded in understanding.