#yeah yeah yeah. the last five make me want to throw up screaming crying shaking wailing

[crossbackpoke-check]

a junkyard dog ain't always pretty but you always love that toothless smile

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

sunflower, chapter five

summary: after waking up from a nightmare, Y/n gets a visit from Spencer

warnings: references to 9x07, nightmare, crying, shaking, vague references to trauma, talk of having kids, kissing 

word count: 1080

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Jolting up in bed, you immediately felt the need to start sobbing. Your body was shaking and needed to react to the nightmare you just had.

Hyperventilating, you looked around, trying to identify objects in order to make your body understand that it wasn’t asleep anymore. The monsters of the night couldn’t touch you here.

There had been a car… it had crashed… and you couldn’t get it open, get to the people inside. You remember hearing your parents’ screams, then Stevie’s… you couldn’t get to them… then a man’s voice yelling… and after that, all you recall was the most deafening quiet and darkness.

Taking in deep breaths, you looked around. Lamp. A white lamp. A bookcase. How many books did it have? 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6…

After counting all 89 books, your breathing had regulated, and your tears had stopped. Sighing deeply, you decided to get up, needing to physically remove yourself from the situation.

Snatching up your light robe, you tiptoed out into the kitchen and made yourself a cup of hot cocoa. That might help you feel better. As the water came to a boil, your phone lit up and caught your attention.

Dear Y/n.

I didn’t know if you were up, but I just wanted to let you know that got back from Boston. If you’re not up, then sleep well. Sorry if I woke you.

Sincerely, Spencer.

God, that was too cute. That little technophobe treated a text message like it was an email, or even better a letter. Now you knew why he always just called. Smiling to yourself, you typed out your answer.

I’m still awake, don’t worry, you didn’t wake me. If you wanna talk about what happened over there, you know where I live!

You just managed to stir the last of the sweet, dark powder into the hot water before hearing a knock at your door. Abandoning your cup on the kitchen counter, you went out to open it up.

And there he stood, all clad in a vest and a deep midnight shirt with the sleeves all rolled up to his elbows. In comparison, you suddenly felt very underdressed in your little shift and dressing gown. And judging by the way his eyes widened and his face immediately flushed, he hadn’t expected you to answer the door looking like that.

“Hi,” he breathed out, letting his eyes flicker down to your exposed chest, more than once.

“Hey Spencer,” you reached out your arms for a hug which he happily gave you. He didn’t smell the way he usually did, but faintly like cigarettes and beer. “What kind of party did you throw on the jet home?”

Chuckling tiredly, “no, we got back a couple of hours ago, but we did do a bit of celebrating at a bar that’s closing soon.”

“Spencer, are you drunk?” faking a gasp, “well, I never…”

“No, I’m not, I haven’t-, I’m not,” he closed the door behind him.

“Well, what happened that was worth celebrating?” you dragged him further into your apartment.

“I mean, the case went quite well, and I delivered a baby, so you know-”

Cutting him off you practically yelled, “you did what?” taking a step back from him.

“I delivered a baby?”

Slightly stunned, you sat down on the edge of your bed, “you just, wow. Is there anything you can’t do?”

“Yeah, there are tons of things I’m not good at. My athletic prowess is terrible-“

Swiftly cutting him off again, “that was a rhetorical question,” letting your body fall back against the mattress, you muttered up towards the ceiling, “you’re perfect.”

Feeling the mattress dip beside you, he laid down beside you and corrected your statement, “I’m really not,” sliding his hand into yours. Rolling your head over to look at him, his vision was already fixated on you. “Do you want kids?” he asked quietly.

Taking a moment to think, “I don’t really know. I mean, yeah, I love kids, I would love to be a parent, but I don’t know,” looking up at the ceiling again, “I think that my perception of what a child deserves in a parent, I don’t know if I can meet those standers. I don’t think I can-,” live up to the example my parents gave to me, I could never be as incredible as them, was what you would have said if you didn’t force yourself not to finish that sentence. Instead, you poked back, trying your best to ignore the storm brewing inside your body, “do you? Want kids?”

“I do. It took me some time to figure that out, but I’m pretty sure I do. But then again, I do also feel great about just keeping my role as a godfather. I guess I don’t wanna do it without the right person.”

Finally looking at him again, “I’m sure you will.”

“Yeah,” he whispered, keeping his eyes locked on yours.

“Well, if I ever happen to be in labour around you, it’s nice to know that you would know what to do,” you said lightheartedly, rolling onto your side, still facing him.

“I think that if it were you that was in labour, I would forget the whole delivery manual,” he confessed, looking deeply into your eyes. You felt a small tug on the nightgown you were wearing and glanced down to see one of his hands in a tight fist around it, the knuckles almost turning white.

Scooting closer, you kissed him softly. As soon as you pulled away, he let out a big yawn. “Oh, I’m sorry,” he managed to slip past it.

“You should probably go get some sleep,” you smiled.

“No, I’m fine, I can stay here a bit longer,” he said, though not fooling you one bit.

“Spencer, go to bed.”

Leaning forward to give you another small peck, “urgh, you’re gonna be a great mom.”

“Goodnight!” you giggled, ignoring the slight sting his words left and practically pushing him out of the bed. Staying on it, you watched him struggle to make his way to the door, clearly wanting to just pass out beside you, but once he made it, he stood there on the threshold for a second, looking you over, in your nightwear-covered body and sighed happily.

“Goodnight, Y/n,” closing the door behind him.

Now, without his warm presence near you, the memories of the nightmare returned, making your body retract back to its former state.

next chapter

© 2022 thyme-in-a-bubble 

[lilveeblog]

behaviour problems

“Excuse me, young lady,” Emily sighed, sending daggers in JJ’s direction. “Excuse me, young lady,” JJ mocked in return, shaking her head. “Jennifer!” Emily scolded. If there was one thing in the world she hated, it was being mocked. “Yes, Emily?” JJ smirked, looking towards the older woman. They were in the round table room, trying to brainstorm answers for a death row case they’d been asked to review. However, JJ was clearly not in the mood for it. “You’re on your last warning, little girl,” Emily warned, pointing a finger at JJ. JJ rolled her eyes before spinning around in her chair. “Yeah yeah, pretty sure I was on my last warning hours ago,” she mumbled, pulling her phone from her pocket. 

At that, Tara stood up, walked around the table and snatched the phone from JJ’s hand. JJ gasped and reached for it. “Sit down and show some respect,” Tara said. “I am! That’s my phone you can’t take it!” JJ cried out, jumping up and down to try and reach the outstretched phone. “You can have it back when you stop being a brat,” Tara said matter-of-factly. She turned and walked from the room and JJ went to charge after her but Derek stood between the blonde and the door. “Morgan move!” JJ screeched, squeezing her eyes shut and making her voice as loud as it could. “No can do pretty girl, sit down,” he said, shaking his head. JJ huffed, stomped her foot, and glared at the entire team before throwing herself on the ground like a toddler. 

“Jay,” Emily sighed, watching her girl begin to cry. JJ had been stressed out all morning and Emily seriously debated bringing her to work but when a difficult case was called in, she didn’t really have a choice. JJ continued her fit on the floor, flying about her legs and her arms but the team grew to ignore it. Spencer continued his facts about an old case related to their new one and Garcia brought up new pictures on the screen. However, Emily couldn’t help but feel like something was seriously wrong with her baby. 

They had five hours on the plane and JJ had finally settled a little. Emily tried to get her to stay with Garcia but JJ refused. 

As they climbed onto the plane, JJ stayed by her mama’s side, distressed and feeling tired. There was so much going on through her brain that she just wanted her mama to take it all away. Her nightmares had come back recently. It was coming up to almost a year away from Tivon Askari - what he did to her - and the emotions, the feelings, the torture was too much. 

“Do you want to colour?” Emily asked, pulling up JJ’s bag but JJ shook her head. She didn’t feel safe being small at the minute. She couldn’t tell anyone but she had been regressed for the majority of time she was with Askari. Her little self was more traumatized than she was and that was terrifying. JJ shook her head and put her head on the window. “Nap?” Emily suggested, showing her her blanket. JJ shrugged and closed her eyes. Emily sighed and stroked the girl's tight fist before turning to brief the team. 

The case was pretty slow at first. Emily kept JJ in the precinct, setting up the boards and doing research with Spencer. The blonde was quiet, reserved and very, very sad. The whole team could sense something was wrong but no one dared to ask, not after that morning's tantrum. It was hard enough working on a case, never mind keeping a constant eye on a versatile JJ too. 

By the time the entire team had returned to the precinct, JJ was curled up on the sofa fast asleep. The team ordered Taco Bell whilst going over their day's findings. 

“So he’s targeting middle-aged fathers from a small town but why?” Morgan asked. “We need to look into the history, there must be something tying them all together,” Tara added. “They went to different high schools. Cunnings was in a different town altogether,” Emily said. 

The group thought for a moment until Spencer spoke up. “Garcia, are there any records of scout groups-” 

A scream broke him off as JJ sat up from the sofa. Her entire body shook as she threw the blanket off her. Emily shot up from the table and was straight by her girl's side. Tears flooded JJ’s face as she tried to get away from Emily. 

“Hey, hey sweetheart.” Emily cooed, grabbing JJ’s trembling hands. “It’s Mama. Mama is here.” 

“Mama,” Jj sobbed, suddenly launching herself into Emily’s outstretched arms. Tara guided the pair to the bathrooms for some privacy and the team continued with their investigation. 

“Deep breaths, focus on my breathing princess,” Emily whispered, rocking her girl in her arms. JJ was crying, clinging to Emily’s top. It was as if she was back there, getting hurt all over again but Emily was keeping her safe. “Mama’s got you.” 

Not long later, after many encouragements, kisses, cuddles and lots of tears, JJ sat up from Emily’s arms. Sighing deeply, she turned to her mama who had bog, concerned, brown eyes. “What happened?” Emily asked softly. She tucked some loose hair behind JJ’s ear and wiped her wet cheeks. “Askari,” JJ spat his name. “Oh love,” Emily sighed. “He- he was hurting me again,” she muttered, closing her eyes tight. “It’s okay, you don’t need to tell me,” Emily reassured and took JJ back into her arms. She ran her fingers through her little one’s hair and rocked her softly. “Is this the tiredness, the behaviour hm?” “I’m sorry mama,” JJ mumbled into Emily’s chest. “It’s okay. I just need you to communicate these things with me.” JJ nodded, agreeing before they decided to head back into the conference room. 

Emily sat at the desk, feeding JJ fries, who was sitting on her knee.No one mentioned the nightmare. Tara made her some pink milk, Spencer grabbed her colouring things and Morgan let her play on his phone whilst they finished up. Emily knew her girl would be okay with such a supportive group around them.

[leafwyrm]

Every single odd number has an “e” in it.

[silverdelirium]

SWEET TOOTH | J.P

SUMMARY ➠ ice cream man!james fucks you in his ice cream truck

WARNINGS ➠ fingering, dirty talk, semi-public sex, praise kink, humiliation (?), pet names, bit of a breeding kink, not proofread

WORD COUNT ➠ 2.0k

A/N ➠ the long awaited ice cream man james smut ;) oh and this is for @hellounicorn <33

———

you were in that stage between dreams and reality when you heard it.

the small tune that you memorized since you started living in this neighbourhood— he always passed by in summer; and god, were you craving something cold and tasty to munch on when it was a thousand degrees outside.

you hummed in content as you lifted yourself from your bed, stretching your lips and rummaging through your closet in an attempt to find a comfortable and decent attire to meet james; as weird as it sounded, you wanted to impress the ice cream man and it was safe to say that you had developed a small crush— james had always been so nice to you, going as far as giving you free popsicles in exchange for a brief conversation.

the tip of your nerves went on fire as you stepped outside; spotting him buckling his belt. he was wearing a tight fit white shirt that had you drooling and shuddering.

——

“there you go, kiddo” chuckled james after delivering a chocolate ice cream to the last kid of the big crowd that had formed earlier.

he sighed in disappointment when he realized that you still hadn’t come out yet— he had purposely parked the van a few feet from your house, just so you could maybe pop by and have a nice chat with him.

truth is that james missed you. he hadn’t seen you since last summer and it had already been a shitty weather day, he knew you would be the only one to lift his mood up with that bright smile of yours.

james went back to the driver’s seat and as he finished buckling himself up he heard a small scream of his name upfront.

holy fuck— thought james.

you were wearing a small cute sundress that accentuated your figure in the best way possible, and when he let his eyes travel down to your chest, he caught a glimpse of your peebled nipples. leading him to get into the conclusion that you might only be wearing panties underneath that dress. his cock ached at the thought.

he stepped on the pedal lightly and drove closer to you, until the truck was right in line with your home.

“hi there, sweetheart!” he greeted, unbuckling his seatbelt and going into the back— where he was met with your face through the open window.

“hello james” you giggled “long time, no see, huh?”

“damn right you are, honey— i was starting to wonder if you moved out, what took you so long?” he spoke in a querying tone.

the tip of your ears and nose grew hot as you remembered struggling to find something cute for him. “oh— uhm, i was just— looking for my shoes you know?” you awkwardly chuckled, staring down at the five dollar bill in your hand as if it was the most interesting thing in the planet.

he gave you a bit of an amused look before shaking his head “whatever you say, pretty girl” your tummy fluttered as the nickname dripped from his lips like sweet honey.

“what would you like today, hm?”

“oh just— something sweet and creamy, like an ice cream popsicle” you shrugged, not noticing the effect your words had on james.

“i know something of yours that is sweet and creamy” he murmured under his breath. “what was that?” “oh, no nothing” he gave you a tight lipped smile, his cheeks dusting pink.

“right well uhm, the ice cream”

“oh shoot yeah— what uh” he paused to clear his throat “what flavor where you thinking of, petal?” and his sweet flirty persona was back on, as if the thought of having a face full of your pussy wasn’t replaying on his head over and over again.

“i don’t know” you groaned, almost embarrassed at your sudden indecisiveness.

“you can come in you know? take a look at the flavors and see which one catches your attention more” he offered, sparing you a small smile.

“won’t you get in trouble for that?” you cocked your head to the side. “i don’t mind” he shrugged, the corners of his lips still quirked up as he opened up the back door for you; already holding both of his hands out to help you climb in.

what a gentleman, you thought.

“there we go, honey. take your time.” spoke james as he patted your waist twice, sending a buzz of excitement all throughout your body that almost made you shudder on the spot.

the variety of flavours seemed so appetizing you started wishing you would’ve brought your whole wallet to buy all of them at once, but a peach flavoured ice cream would do.

as you went to give james the money he only chuckled and said “you know i wouldn’t charge a pretty little thing like you, your presence is enough” before handing you the sweet and throwing you a wink as he rested his back on the frame of the window.

the way his muscles flexed as he crossed them over his chest had you questioning whether you should’ve asked for his cock instead of a fucking popsicle—

and god… that damn shirt had your core clenching around air as your mind wandered about him fucking you in every position possible, he just looked so elegantly inviting.

“you done staring, sweetheart?”

shit. you didn’t even realize.

“oh my god, i am so sorry, i should probably leave” you nervously laughed, heading towards the back doors, only to have a large hand around your abdomen stop you.

holy fuck. james potter’s body was pressed against yours and you almost let out a moan as his breath fanned over the side of your petrified face.

“you can’t just leave me all alone in here, sweetie” his hand traveled lower down your mid drift. by now, your stupid peach flavored popsicle was long gone somewhere on the floor, melting. almost as much as you were against james’ hefty chest.

you swallowed thickly, blinking a few times to collect yourself as you turned your head to the side, it was hot breath against hot breath now; if only one of you made the first move—

“oh fuck this” he growled, disconnecting his palm from your pelvis and instead linking it with your jaw to have more access against your lightly chapped lips.

the lip-lock was vulgar and enticing since the start, both of you feeling the luscious sparks that it sent to your sex.

“i’ve been way too fucking patient” you heard him mumble as he took your lower lip in between his teeth, coaxing a whine as you felt your core drip with arousal. “bet you think about me when that pretty cunt is begging for relief, huh?”

“yes jamie, i do. i fucking do” you heaved, impassionedly grinding your bum against his bulging crotch. “i’m gonna fuck you nice and long today, baby. until all you can do is beg for more”

his words went straight to your sopping cunt as he waddled you forward, his mouth still on yours, to the window.

his lips detached from yours. “there we go baby, stay nice and loud for me, yeah? want the whole fucking neighbourhood to know who’s stuffing you full.”

your fingers gripped the edge of the window tightly as james nipped at your neck, his left hand bunching up your dress while the right one’s simultaneously prodded at your swollen button. “you came all bare for me, honey? bet you wanted me to fuck you good once and for all” he groaned, not giving you a warning as he slipped two fingers at once, leaving you a gasping mess as your knuckles turned white from holding on to the frame of the aperture you were leaned on.

“james!” you cried out quietly, rocking your hips back onto his fingers as the ones from his free hand made a path to your throat, lightly squeezing the sides.

his digits made wonders to your contracting insides, juices already making a sticky mess on your thighs as he curled them upwards, caressing your g-spot in a mouth-watering manner; the pad of his thumb made way to your clit, soothing it in tight figure eights as your legs shook, pulling small wails after wails from you.

feeling the thrill of the enticing orgasm building up, you brought one of your hands back to tangle itself on the male’s dark curls, only to have him tut at you as he removed his drenched fingers.

“wha— no! please!” you shamelessly begged, not giving a shit about anything else besides the ache on your heat.

james did nothing besides giving you a wicked grin as he let go of your neck, now focusing on lowering down his trousers— which quickly had you shutting up as you stared in fascination.

he was definitely the biggest you have had so far. a nice length with a thickness that would make a barbarous stretch feel so fucking delirious.

“i’m not sure if i can fit in that tiny hole of yours, precious. maybe i should just leave you like this” he fake pouted, a hint of amusement lacing his features as your bottom lip trembled at the thought of not having him inside you in the next fifteen seconds or so. “no! it’ll fit! make it fit” you mewled, rubbing your pooling cunt against his grith.

“so impatient” he chuckled, stabilizing your hips with his hands before forcing himself into you in one single unforgiving push, making you let out a small scream as your eyes shut tight.

james gave you a few moments for you to get comfortable before you rocked your hips backwards into his as a sign of consent. his hand travelled upwards to grope at your breasts as he thrusted deeply.

“my god, you feel like absolute heaven” he grunted, and even though you couldn’t hear him, the strain in his voice gave away that he was probably with his head thrown back, abs clenching and biceps flexed as his chest heaved, a sight for sore eyes truly.

your mouth stayed agape as his tip kissed your g-spot. your vision clouded with small black stars that had you genuinely question whether they were really painted in your house or not.

james started with a brutal speed since the start, the smacking of your skin against his was filthy and loud, you could only hope mr. benson wouldn’t go for a walk today.

the van rocked and lightly squeaked with every thrust of james’ and you tried your best to contain every loud moan and cry that might alarm the whole block. james had other plans though. “say my name baby, don’t hold back, i want to have your pretty moans fucking memorized”

you complied, throwing your last fucks out of the window and chanting his name like a prayer as your eyes rolled to the back of your head, his strong arms moving to hold you up by the bending of your elbows, causing your spine to arch in a perfect C as james continuously grunted in your ear.

“you’re gonna be absolutely cockdrunk after i’m done with you, honey” he groaned, speeding up the push of his hips and biting down on your shoulder as he brought you both closer to the edge.

“james! i’m gonna cum so hard, don’t stop please, don’t fucking stop” you sobbed, moaning uncontrollably as the coil in your stomach unravelled without any form of forewarning.

“there we go, cream my cock so nicely baby” whispered james, still fucking your quivering pussy through the orgasm with an aggressive pace. “oh fuck, this tight cunt is gonna milk me dry, yeah?”

you could only answer him with a whimper as your legs almost gave out on you if it wasn’t for him holding you up, a few more sloppy thrusts and he was spraying your fluttering walls with his cum, whines escaping his lips.

a breathy moan passed through your mouth as he pulled out, his load slowly flowing out of your puffy folds.

“you look so hot when you’re stuffed full of my cum, sweetheart.” rasped james, peppering your cheeks with soft kisses.

———

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[bemylord]

dark chocolate

♧ character: toji fushiguro x fem!reader.

♧ warnings: au [omegaverse], heat, mentioned abilities and cigarettes, rough sex, hair pulling, oral, spanking, creampie, marks/hickeys, daddy kink, size kink, curse words.

♧ synopsis: his scent is dark chocolate mixed with cigarettes which maddening you. every your heat occurs distraught: sex-rest-sex. the situation is deteriorating if toji has his heat too, and it seems both you're going to have blazing heat because his scent is getting stronger.

toji is a fucking teaser: he didn't tell you that he was summoned as an experienced sorcerer killer. he knew you don't like his way to earn money, but still, you're by his side, baking him buns and please him at the night. you aren't having the toxic or abusive relationship with toji, just the thought he's killing a sorcerer somewhere far beyond a house, makes you crunch fingers. you told him you'll leave him if he won't stop doing his job, but he apologies with his tongue, and every time you forgive him.

your heat overwhelmed you spontaneously - you were baking lemon cake, specially for your lover, when your felt how the fever spread all over your body, covered every inch, and down there you felt how you became wet. your lover is gone - where the hell is he when you're needy for his pulsing dick in your dripping cunt? you turned off the oven, making small steps leading to the bedroom for his shirt.

you hate him so much right now: your heat happens every three months and it's time to have an unforgettable weekend with him. thanks to his work, he's far away from you; however, your estrus won't stop because your alfa had gone.

his fingers, his dick, you're a pathetic girl who desperately wants to smell the pungent scent of his man, feeling his throbbing dick inside your cunt, let him literally rip your uterus with his cock. you would reply: 'go ahead, fuck me that in the morning i will feel pervasive pain between my legs'

you rolled down the wall, sniffing his black shirt, remembering toji's muscular upper body, mostly abs, shines through the fabric of his clothes. his sweatpants outlining flaccid dick, although you didn't call it flaccid, but hard as rock cock.

that cock is sticks out from the fabric, those abs and biceps of his - you're dripping without your heat. his scent is dark chocolate mixed with cigarettes, especially the last one scent isn't it enough for you to become a huge mess?

'open your mouth, daddy will spit in your mouth'

who are you to disobey the simple order? your hands are tied up with his tie behind a back, you're sitting on your knees, sopping and needy for his tongue or fingers in your pussy now, but toji is teasing you until you'll be begging him.

'yes, daddy'

you opened your mouth, stick out a tongue, feeling his long fingers on your cheeks and his saliva in your mouth. you could swear to god it tastes like dark chocolate.

smelling his clothes while you've been necessitous for his dick sucks, although you've got no alternative for now, except for masturbating yourself. you reached down to pull aside the panties when you smell that scent. those forceful smells of his are overwhelming the bedroom, forcing your peachy scent to discover.

'don't you dare touch yourself, you're little whore'

you flinched, automatically removing your hand from panties. he's all wet, could bet he has been sweating since he left the house. toji is exhaling loud, probably lost his breath in the battle or while he was rushing to you. his olfactory organ could sniff out your peachy scent of heat far away from the place you're: his heat certainly took him suddenly as yours.

't-toji?'

'you know my name, peachy'

his damn it shirt silhouetting his torso, in addition, the fewer force his body to swear emits his smell became more piquant. damn his fucking handsome body and scent - if you won't have his dick, you would cry.

'daddy, please' you said almost crying, spreading apart your legs. so malleable, vulnerable, and poor for your alfa - the way you're lost in his smell makes him groaned, stood on his knees. if he has been on his first rut, he could barely control himself at the sight of your face: in your eyes are reading lust and debauchery, you're still squeezing his shirt, hoping it may helps you cum. leaning your legs on his muscular shoulders, toji left soft kisses on your ankles, unable to hold back himself, he ripped your panties, ogling at the abundance of your natural lubricant, licking his lips.

'i'm sorry, princess, i should've left you alone with your heat..' he pulls your cunt closer to his face, burying his nose in your crotch. fushigoru's sight changed to the deep and insatiable, knowing you won't fight back, completely haggard of the thoughts and desire. '..i don't think i'll go easy on you' he stood up with you on his shoulders, throwing you on the bed.

'you know how much daddy adores when you squirt on his face, baby girl, so don't hold back'

his-fucking-long-tongue. the tip of the tongue is playing with the clit whilst fingers are running over your hips. he's trying his best to prepare you for the fat cock, not ripping your cunt as it was the last time. toji's amorous attitude towards your clit and pussy, making you squeeze the sheet with your little fists, arching the back, getting lost in the pleasure. your eyes are rolling from the delight he puts you in, not be able to regulate your vocal and orgasm, you gave him what he has been asking for with an oblong moan.

'not enough, princess, give me your juices'

new orgasm is building up again, thanks to his masterpiece tongue - he plays with a sensitive spot and licking your entrance, switching the pace from the sluggish to the aggressive, makes you twitch and squirm over the bed. being soft for toji is something new - he would rather fuck you 'till you're verbatim screaming the safe word and begging to have a rest.

'give that, slut!' sorcerer screamed, burying his mouth deeper in your crotch, eating you out. his scent, his low voice, his tongue and fingers, his probably throbbing cock that wants to feel your cunt it all makes do his order, not even trying to delay it: you abundantly squirt on his face, watching at him. he licked lips, taking off his clothes. your legs are shaking, but the excitation didn't quench, conversely, the desire to feel his thick cock is growing.

'look down at my cock, aren't you being needy for it?'

the head is red because of blood that is there since the battle or since he started to lick you? toji's smears the precum on the tip of the cock, getting a contraceptive out of nowhere, putting on protection, pulls his ankles on his shoulder, leading closer to your face. he kisses you deeply, using a tongue to play with yours, mingling your saliva together, biting your lower lip. you're burying hands into his black hair, ruffling and pulling back, whimpering into the kiss. he presses the head at your entrance, biting your neck. notwithstanding he has been preparing you, his cock is large for you.

'your so tight, slut' with an unexpected move, he put his dick inside your uterus, burying it in, staring at your precious face. evidently, you didn't expect he would pull it inside quickly; your eyes widened, exhaling a whimper. toji couldn't persist, but embed a tongue in your mouth. he placed both of his hands between your head, detached from you, to ogle from the top at your ahegao. clapping and squishy are filling the room - his balls slapping against your ass making such sounds.

'kitten, fuck-' his low voice with echo distributed over the room, tilting his head back, accelerating the pace. 'i'm gonna slap your ass five times and will cum on my dick, got it, slut?'

praising and degrading you, squeezing the sheet with those strong palms, attempting to delay the orgasm until you do a creampie. 'one' sonorous sound made you squirm, but his hands give you none possibility of slipping away from flogging. 'two' toji's sturdy palm smack the same butt cheek, looking into your eyes. you're avoiding catching his sight, because, fuck, one look at his wet and gorgeous face and you will cum immediately. 'three, baby girl' you lost in the pain and delight, eyes closed tight, waiting for the last slap to give a creampie.

'fuck, four' he growled in your ear, increasing the tempo. the concupiscent and desire are managing him - he licked your neck first, before bite through your soft skin on neck, mixing your scent together, giving you a label for other boys. it's screaming - she's mine, fuck off, bastards.

'god, i'm cumming, princess, cum with me, cum with me!' toji's bass voice in conjunction with his thick cock released a creampie, finishing inside the condom. as soon as his hot semen was in the contraceptive, he pulled his cock out of your wet pussy, throw it at the basket near the bed.

'come closer, princess'

toji laid down on the pillows, pull you on his chest, rubbing your back softly, kissing your hair. both of you are breathing heavily, trying to regain the breath. he put his land on your cheek, giving you a thankful kiss on your lips.

'wanna take a bath?'

'only if you take me to the bathroom'

toji smiles, catching his breath. the heat isn't gone: you have a couple of hours to get a snack and wash your bodies before proceeding to the second round.

//~~//

i don't know if you love oneshots with toji [i mean love him as a character], if yes - i'll do the part two with the punshiment + aftercare. let say, three hundred notes? cause, yeah, he's kinda bad, but his body.. i'm simp. :3

[kaiparker-avengerssmut]

More the Merrier

Pairings | Steve Rogers x reader, Sam Wilson x reader, Bucky Barnes x reader

Warnings | smut, swearing, Bucky being a literal SEX GOD, oral (m and f receiving), fingering, p in v, p in a

Word count | 2813

Summary | you and Bucky get a little freaking during a training session. Steve and Sam want to join.

Masterlist

Sweaty strands of hair dangled over your eyes, the sweet burn stinging against them when the sweat dripped off. Your fists held tight in front of you, wrapped perfectly with a now tinged-grey bandage and a glossy sheen coating your skin. Bucky stood before you, cocky smirk on his lips and hair framing his face from where it has fallen out of the bun at the back of his head, fists held high before a punch is landed to your stomach. The force sends you falling back, butt colliding heavily with the floor and a groan slipping from your lips.

"That's the last time, James." You warn, rubbing your sore ass as he helps to to your feet - the metal of his hand a welcome coldness against the searing heat of yours. Your fighting was not the best, to say the least, and you usually relied on your powers. Bucky offered to help you - but so far he all but knocked you on your ass every five minutes, even after three weeks of training.

"Let's take a break." Buck decided, chucking your water bottle over at you which you barely caught in time before it would've gone flying into your face. You sent a glare his way and Bucky chuckled, throwing his head back and gulping down his own water - Adam's apple bobbing and drops running down his chin and over his throat. You subtly rubbed your thighs together, attempted to ignore the gush of arousal that flooded between them as you slowly dipped at your drink.

"Let's go again." You said definitively, back in stance and ready to fight. You threw a heavy punch, but Bucky merely caught it in his open palm, twisting until your back pressed against his solid chest. Heavy breathing reverberated in your ear, the hotness of his breaths making your cunt tingle and a shiver wrack down your spine.

"You okay, doll?" A husk in your ear, and you were a goner. A lewd moan escaped you as Buck cupped your clothed core with his flesh hand, the metal one encasing your throat. "Seems like you need my help." He smirked against your cheek, placing a few kisses there before he was ripping your leggings straight from you. If it had been anyone else you would have protested, seeing as they were your favourite leggings, but this was Bucky, so you merely let out a gasp and dropped your head back on his shoulder. "Fuck, so wet already, Doll." Bucky mumbled, fingers slipping past the waist band of your panties.

A wanton moan spilled from your lips when his fingers made contact with your pulsating clit, rubbing it in tight circles as you gasped. You could feel him smirk against the skin of your neck at your reactions, wet and open-mouthed kisses quickly turning to nips and bites that made both you and the super soldier groan.

"Shit, James." You sighed and a small growl escaped him when you used his name. He let his middle finger slip lower, tracing your wet slit before dipping ever-so-slightly into your heat. He hummed in approval when you clenched around the tip of his digit, before slowly sliding the rest of his finger in. You were literally a moaning mess at this point and he'd barely touched you. (I mean come on, it is Bucky Barnes after all).

Bucky started to pump his finger, giving your throat a little squeeze as he added another finger to your wet pussy.

"S'tight, doll. I don't know if I'll get my cock in there." He drawled, accent thick against your ear. All you could do was let another lewd moan escape you, the only thing keeping you uptight being Bucky's hand wrapped around your throat, the cool metal a stark contrast to the hot flush that was brushed all over your skin by now.

"James!" You cried out, knees buckling as his palm began bumping against your clit with every thrust of his fingers. A third one was added to your heat.

"You like that, doll?" He rasped, curling his fingers upwards experimentally and grinning at the little Yelp of pleasure it dragged from you. The grin only spread when Bucky picked up on footsteps coming towards the gym, the unmistakable voices of Sam and Steve filling his ears.

Of course, you didn't hear this, as Bucky had super-soldier hearing and all. Bucky doubled his efforts, determined to have you cumming as both your friends walked in the room. Give them a show.

"C'mon, doll, cum for me," Bucky egged, letting his fingers hit that one spit inside you with ever curl, "soak me, cum all over my hand." He continued, nipping on your earlobe and pressing his hard-on into your back.

You could also hear Steve and Sam approaching now, but you were way to intent on getting your release to being yourself to care. Fuck them, you thought - then a smile graced your lips, maybe seeing you come undone would grant that wish.

"I want you to scream for me, y/n." Bucky groaned as the door to the gym swung open - Sam and Steve in the middle of talking and not looking away from each other until a shriek of pleasure ripped from you.

"F-fuck! Bucky!" You moaned so bloody loudly, Bucky was convinced that anyone on the bottom floor of the tower must've heard you. Your cunt spasmed around Bucky's fingers, legs trembling as hands clawing at Bucky's muscular thighs to ground yourself.

"Good girl." He whispered against your ear, smirking at the sight before him. Stood before you, were Steve and Sam. Steve looked like a deer in headlights - eyes wider than saucers and jaw hanging so low it may as well be on the floor. Sam, on the other hand, was also smirking, eyes roaming your shaking body with a hunger that Bucky had instantly noticed.

"Fuck me, is there room for another to join?" Sam was quick to blurt out, earning him a shocked side-eye from Steve. Bucky's smirk grew.

"What do you think, doll? D'you reckon we have room for a couple more?" Bucky asked you, breath tickling the side of your face.

"The more the merrier." You purred, words still slightly spurred from your orgasm, but you were back to thinking clearly. Sam wasted no time, and before you knew it he was stood in front of you and pulling you into a searing kiss. Bucky retracted his hand from your panties, stepping back slightly and looking to Steve.

"You gonna join us or what, punk?" Bucky smiled amusedly as his best friend, who was trying his hardest not to stare at your semi-naked body. Your hands were gripping Sam's biceps tightly, hips rocking over her thigh that he had spotted between your legs as you moaned into his mouth. When he pulled away to scold steve you were panting.

"What's wrong, old man? Forgotten what an orgasm is? When was the last time you got laid?" Sam teased, tone mockingly accusatory but it worked. A scowl quickly spread over Steve's face, arms crossing over his chest to show case his bulging muscles.

"Just because I'm old doesn't mean I don't know what I'm doing." Steve remarked and Bucky rose a brow.

"Really, pal? Because I don't remember you being with a lot of women back in the day." Bucky teased and Steve sent him a look.

"Yeah, well, I spent a couple months working only with a group of girls after I was injected, remember?" Steve said, his boyish grin telling the rest of the story.

"Well, Mr America's most wanted, why don't you come prove us wrong?" Sam prompted, and by this time your were back to rubbing you thighs together at the though of taking all three of them.

"Please, Steve. I need you." You whined, hoping to speed him up a little bit. Steve took long strides towards you until he stood in front of you, hand cupping your jaw and directing your gaze to him.

"Suck a needy little thing, aren't ya?" Steve chided, pushing your face to one side and then the other as he examined you. "You will address me as Captain." He said authoritatively and you barely had enough time to utter a little 'yes, Captain' before he was slinging you over his shoulder and sauntering over to the weights benches.

You let out a little mph as Steve dropped you onto the bench, dropping to his knees and parting your legs. He begun to press wet and sloppy kisses to your inner thighs, kissing ever exposed bit of skin he could find except where you needed him most.

"Captain!" You whined, wishing he would hurry up a little. Steve rolled his eyes at your childish behaviour but suddenly stopped and let out a groan when you buried your short fingers in his hair and attempted to pull his head into your core.

"Patience, little one." He chided, and the nickname nearly made you want to cry with want. Steve was the only person at the tower that called you 'little one', and he only did so when he was scolding you or agitated with you. You never thought it'd be such a turn-on during sex, especially coming from his lips.

"Woah, woah, woah. Back up," Sam interrupted suddenly, just as Steve went to place a kiss over your clothes heat. "Steve actually knows what eating a girl out means?" He inquired and Steve scoffed.

"Jesus, Sam! I'm from the forties not a fuckin' nunnery!" Steve exclaimed and Sam raised his hands up in surrender.

"Alright, man." He backed off a little and Steve shook his head before turning back to you and resuming to tease you over your panties. You gasp when he ran a finger over your covered slit, some of the remnants of your orgasm seeping through the fabric and transferring onto his finger. Steve brought the now damp finger to his mouth and sucked it clean, moaning at your taste.

"You taste so good, little one, like fuckin' honey I swear." Steve groaned and before you could respond another gasp was released as you felt the fabric of your panties being ripped from your skin. Steve pocketing the scrap of fabric did not go unnoticed by you or the boys, and Bucky smirked out how confident his little Stevie had become.

"Captain, please!" You whined impatiently, desperate to feel his mouth on you. Steve's lips curled into a smirk, before they were descending on you. You bucked your hips up into his mouth, but Steve tutted you and pinned your hips down with his arm, keeping you from moving again. He licked a stripe up from you slit to your clit and back again, doing this a few times and making you try to thrash your hips. Steve stopped at your entrance and pushed his tongue into your pulsing heat, pumping the warm muscle in-and-out, tearing pornographic moans from your lips.

Your hands found their way down to Steve hair, tangling your fingers into his blonde locks and tugging harshly, getting a groan from him as Steve's tongue curled around inside you, stroking your walls. Your cunt clenched around him and Steve moaned into you in response, sending vibrations throughout you core. You shuddered as Steve started to rub circles on your clit, adding too much to the sensation and you came screaming Steve's name.

As slap to your thigh caused you to jolt, crying out when the contact was made.

"What did you just call me?" Steve demanded and you stuttered, a babbling mess as he kept up him ministrations.

Steve pulled away but didn't stop, moving his fingers from your clit to your entrance and pushing them in to the knuckle, pulling out to the tips and pushing back in, while waiting for his answer.

"I'm s-sorry, Captain!" You managed finally.

"Good girl." Steve groaned before he lowered his mouth to your clit and lapped around it, flicking it with his tongue. Your eyes rolled as Steve sucked your clit into his mouth, nipping it and dragging it out with his teeth. You soon came again, biting your bottom lip almost hard enough to draw blood.

He kept going, curling his fingers upwards and trying to finger your spot.

"Captain!" You moaned as he found it, making him reangle his fingers to hit it with every thrust. His mouthy worked at your clit still, bringing you to a third orgasm from just Steve's tongue and fingers that made your whole body shake. Steve pulled away and smirked at you, climbing over you and kissing you. You could taste your own sweetness in the kiss and moaned into his mouth.

When he pulled away your face was full of a fucked-out expression, one that made Bucky coo as he stroked your cheek lovingly a after Steve had stepped back.

"You tired already, baby?" He said sweetly, his thumb pulling at your swollen bottom lip and dragging it towards your thin with his thumb. It bounced back into place as you nodded, eyes barely open. "Tough. You still haven't taken any of our cocks and poor Sammy hasn't even got his hands on this perfect body of your." Buck murmured in your ear, his breath hot and intoxicating against your skins as your eyes widened at his words.

He stepped aside with a wicked smirk, holding his arm out in gesture towards you for Sam. Sam stepped forwards eagerly, leaning down to place a bruising kiss against your lips and before you knew it the Falcon had your legs wrapped around his waist and you back slammed against the wall.

His lips trailed over you jaw, down your neck as your head fell back against the wall, a lewd moan escaping you when you felt his hardness press into your bare cunt.

"Sam, please." You whined breathily, trying to wiggle your hips against him as persuasion. Bucky and Steve chuckled from behind sam, and when you dared to glance over his shoulder a new flood of arousal flocked to your entrance at the sights of both men stripped and stroking their cocks. A groan spilled from you lips and Sam smirked against you skin, using a hand to pull his work out shorts down and pull his cock from his boxers.

"You ready, baby?" He husked in your ear, running his length through you folds and letting the head bump you clit as he collected your wetness.

"Fuck, please, just get inside me." You moaned, head lolling forward to rest against his shoulder. Sam let out a guttural groan as he entered you, throw in head back as he bottomed out. He stayed still for a moment, giving some time to adjust and chucking again when you tried to move on his dick.

The man pulled his hips back, slamming them against them with so much force you could see stars.

"Fuck!" You screamed, biting down on Sam's shoulder to try and keep quiet - fully aware that anyone else at the tower could walk into the gym at any moment to see Sam railing you against the wall and Steve and Bucky jerking off at the sight.

"That's it," Sam groaned, smirking as you screamed when he hit that spit deep inside you, "taking my cock so well in this tight little pussy." He praised, hands braced against the wall behind you as he thrusted harshly up into you. You were a babbling, moaning mess, reaching for you clit to push yourself over the edge again. The accompanied sounds of all three men groaning and moaning was enough to spurt in your release again, and you soon hit your peak crying out Sam's name.

He rode out your orgasm with a few more hard pumps, groaning your name as he released inside you. Sam's forehead pressed to yours, heavy breaths shared as you both calmed down. "Fuck, that was good." He grinned, slowly pulling out of you and setting you down on the ground. You kept your hands resting on his shoulders, untrusting of your own strength when it came to your now-wobbly legs. "You didn't think we were done, did you?" He whispered huskily in your ear, you eyes darting nervously to the two super soldier's with rock hard cock slapping against their stomachs behind Sam.

You gulped, making eye contact with Bucky as he spoke.

"My turn."

Taglists

Steve Rogers One-shots, Drabbles and Headcannons | @buckysgirl101 @quxxnxfhxll

Bucky Barnes One-shots, Drabbles and Headcannons | @buckysgirl101 @quxxnxfhxll

Other Marvel Characters One-shots, Drabbles and Headcannons | @buckysgirl101 @quxxnxfhxll

Join My Taglist Now

[lavenderwhore444]

Ah shit here we go again

Btw this is moth shigaraki

So imagine this you work at this place that’s like a zoo that has moths and other creatures ( u can tell I’m struggling) so ur coworkers were trying to get this baby moth inside it’s cage but it kept panicking and crying ( I think u know who is this baby moth) u went to see what’s up that’s how u saw the most beautiful moth u ever seen, you picked up the baby moth ( meanwhile ur coworkers were panicking) it just calmed down everyone was 👁👄👁 long story short u were now in charge of shigaraki, u took care of him feed him u did everything, until he was literally taller then u are ( moths grow up fast ok?) shigaraki was in love with u even when u had ur days off ( he absolutely hated when u had to leave home boy would throw tantrums) he would never let anyone touch him if anyone did they might of lost a couple of fingers, when u came back from ur break he would be attach to ur hip he would not let go not to mention he probably scratched the hell out of his neck so u had to deal with that, oh yeah he was overprotective of u won’t anyone touch u

Let’s just say u were super sick so u had to take a week off, u were devastated that ur not gonna be able to see shigaraki (u had to admit that u have fallen in love with him) so for now u were trying to get better, meanwhile shigaraki was losing his shit he thought u left him ( or dead💀 lmao) he couldn’t wait anymore so he escaped, it was easy finding where u lived since he memorized ur scent, u suddenly heard a noise come out of room ( u went to get some water or something idk sis) as u entered u found shigaraki, shigaraki ran to u and just hugged ( basically crashed u with his two sets of arms) he started to cry he wouldn’t let go, u got super worried and asked him what’s wrong, so he explained what happened then u suddenly felt super weak and almost fainted shigaraki was panicking asking if ur ok, u said that u had a fever thats all, shigaraki just put u back on the bed, shigaraki finally had the opportunity to repay u, he had read somewhere that sex can help ( it’s totally not an excuse for him to see u naked) he just wants to please u( his mommy 😏) his wings vibrated at the thought of pleasing u, let just say u had no problem with it. ( so when shigaraki is done reader flops shigaraki on the bed and fucks the shit out of him as a thank u gift lollll)

Kinks umm sub shigaraki whos eager to please and dom reader, this one hundred percent has a mommy kink umm I cant think of anything, this isn’t my best ideas so feel free to ignore this 😔😫

-🤡

Storms

Tomothura :) 🦋

I'm sleepy, and I want milk and cookies. Not to flex, but I only have to see my therapist every other week cause ig I'm just perfect.

Update I now see her once a week and have to take dbt a THIRD (?) time

I have a bad smell and taste in my mouth and nose from covid. It reminds me of meatballs but in the worst way :/

Warnings: masturbation, heat, vaginal sex, humping, loss of virginity (both parties), breeding, & mommy kink.

InteractiveFics

Master List

I have rewritten this six times. No matter how much I write, whether it's 100 words or 1,000,000 words, I can't create a smooth transition between y/n's like caregiver (?) relationship with Shiggy to a romantic/sexual relationship with him. To put it simply, I give up 💀 . HOWEVER, I did cook up another scenario in my mind, so even though I have strayed from the original blueprint, I will still deliver a moth Shigaraki fic to all of you <3

To those of you brave people who aren't scared of storms:

1) I envy you.

2) I apologize because I need y/n to be scared of storms for my plot.

Thinking abt writing a poly relationship with y/n shigaraki and dabi. It’d just be so cute.

On another unrelated note: why did I get put on the gross end of scent kinks (yes, those exist)? Instead of being like, “mmm sexy cologne,” I'm like, “Dabi reeking after being on a long mission and cuddling, so I have to smell him and get his sweat on me, ” like Claire. Control yourself.

It was a beautiful night. The only light around you was the moon, the stars, and dozens of fireflies. It was warm and calm, no wind, no rain, not even a chill though the sun had set. You walked further through the forest. Your friends had gotten tired and retired to the campsite. You, however, had chosen to wander some more. You found clarity in the woods at night.

You stumbled upon a beautiful pond surrounded by luscious green trees. Lily pads floated in the water, and frogs croaked. The number of fireflies had increased, and little fairy circles littered the ground (you were careful not to step in them). There was a little cabin up a small hill. It had wooden walls and small windows which stopped you from seeing the inside.

You checked the time, 12:55 a.m. As you walked back, it started to rain. Great. A little rain never hurt anyone, right? But then it began to storm. The kind of storm that knocked loose widow makers, that made the ground shake, and could cause mudslides. You had to get inside and fast. You were closest to the cottage from earlier, and the trees got thicker by your campsite. You ran back as fast as you could and knocked on the door.

“Hello? Is anyone in there? It's storming, and my campsite is too far away, ” you called.

“It's open, ” a voice called.

You opened the door and shut it quickly, not wanting to be out in the storm for a second longer. Then, you took off your shoes.

“I’m making tea for us, ” the voice said.

“Oh, it's ok. You really don't have to-”

“I didn't ask you, ” the voice said again, “just accept my hospitality, ”

You sat down on the couch and scrolled through your phone. Even though you had sworn it had 50% left, it was now nearly dead.

“Do you have a phone charger I could borr-” the lights flickered off, “never mind, ”

Here you were, trapped in a stranger's house as it stormed with nothing but a dead phone and no power. The stranger walked into the room, and your first reaction was to scream.

“Calm down. I'm not gonna hurt you, ” Shigaraki said, setting down your tea.

“You're- you have- what are- y-you have, ” you stuttered in shock.

“Yeah, I've got wings and shit. Calm down, ” Tomura said, taking a sip of his tea.

You sat in silence for a moment as you processed.

“I'm tomura shigaraki, ” he said, “if we're stuck here together while it storms, we might as well know each other's names, ”

“I'm y/n, ” you said.

“Pretty name, ” Shigaraki said.

“Thank you, ” you nodded, “so how long do you think the storm will last?”

“No idea, but here it can rain for up to five days, ” he said.

“Oh, ” you said.

“It’ll be fine. I've got food for both of us, ” Shigaraki said.

“No, that's not what I'm worried about. I'm just scared of-” thunder roared, and lightning struck. You nearly jumped out of your seat.

“You're scared of storms, ” he finished, “you can come sit next to me if it would make you feel better or whatever, ” he offered.

You nodded and sat next to him. Despite looking...strange, his presence was very comforting. More thunder and lighting caused you to jump. He wrapped one of his soft wings around you.

“You're fine, y/n. Don't worry, ok?” Tomura said.

Did he know why he was letting you sit so close to him? No. Did he know why he wanted to comfort you? Also no.

“You're wet, ” he said.

You nearly choked, “what?”

“I’ll give you some clothes while yours are in the dryer, ” he said, getting up.

“Can I come with you?” you said, “I don't want to be alone, ”

He sighed, “sure, come on, ”

You both headed up to his room, and he threw you some clothes. Shigaraki looked at you, waiting patiently.

“Well?” he said.

“I'm not gonna change in front of you, ” you said, cheeks glowing bright red.

“I don't know why you're making it a big deal, ” he muttered, turning away.

Truthfully he'd never seen anyone naked and had lived alone most of his life. When he thought about you naked or even just in your underwear, he felt strange.

“I'll be right back, ” he muttered, heading to the bathroom.

He had a strange urge to touch himself, so he indulged. After unzipping his pants, he cupped his hardening cock gently and hissed at the new sensation. It felt weird but good. So good. He wrapped a hand around it and started stroking it gently, nearly moaning out loud.

He turned on the sink to mask any accidental noises. He kept stroking for a while longer, stifling even more noises. Soon he felt an intense tingling sensation in his balls that seemed to grow stronger and spread throughout his cock. As he finally burst, his whole body relaxed, and thick, white sticky liquid shot out of his dick. It was foreign to him, but it felt wonderful.

Meanwhile, outside, you had heard everything. You sat on the bed awkwardly as Tomura came out of the bathroom. He took your wet clothes.

“The um dryer is just downstairs, ” he said, looking towards the floor, “if you want to come with, ”

“Sure, ” you nodded, following behind him.

With your clothes in the dryer, you both sat downstairs on the couch. It was silent until you decided to try and lighten the mood.

“So what um do you like to do for fun?” you asked.

“I like games a lot, ” he said, taking a carrot off a plate of vegetables he'd gotten the two of you.

“I like games too, ” you smiled.

The both of you talked about games for a while until you nearly passed out.

“Hey, head upstairs. I'll take the couch, ” Shigaraki said, noticing your eyelids fluttering shut.

“No, I don't want to take your bed, ” you yawned.

“Get upstairs y/n. I'm serious just sleep in my fucking bed, ” Shigaraki ordered.

“But-, ”

“No, no buts, ” he interrupted.

“The least I can do is let you sleep with me. Won't you crush your wings on the couch?” you said.

“Fine. If it makes you feel better, I guess, ” Shigaraki mumbled.

You both walked upstairs. Shigaraki found a toothbrush for you, and you got into bed with him. You slept back to back, but it was cold. No, frigid. He could tell by the way you were shivering. He turned towards you and held you with both pairs of arms. A wing draped over you, and he rested his chin on your head.

“Don’t make it weird, ” he grunted.

“Ok, ” you said, sleep clouding your mind.

By the following day, you had turned towards him, and you both were completely tangled in each other. It was still storming when you woke up. You pulled Shigaraki closer, savoring his warmth.

“Morning, sleepyhead, ” he said.

“Morning, ” you responded.

He stroked your hair gently, wings humming quietly. He flipped on the light, and to your surprise, it worked. The power was back on!

“I’ll make breakfast, ” you said, getting up.

He pulled you back down, “ten more minutes. You're warm, ”

Ten minutes turned into an hour as you dozed off again. You couldn't help it, he was warm, and his nimble fingers traced designs on your back. The bed was so soft, and so were his wings. After a while, he woke you up, poking your cheek.

“Can you still make breakfast?” he said, smiling down at you.

You looked so beautiful with messy hair and tired eyes. Shigaraki couldn't help himself as he traced a finger over your lips. He saw the blush on your cheeks and rubbed his thumb over your bottom lip.

“You have nice lips, ” he whispered.

“Thank you, ” you said.

He sensed your breathing pick up along with your heartbeat.

“Your heart is beating really fast, y/n, ” Shigaraki said, bringing his face closer to yours, “are you alright?”

“Yeah. yeah, I'm fine, ” you said, “don't worry about me, ”

He nodded, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear.

“If you say so, ” he said, getting out of bed.

You already missed the warmth of his body; it was still freezing from all the rain. How could the weather change so quickly? You followed him downstairs and began to make breakfast. As you were cooking, you felt him put one of his zip-up hoodies over your shoulders.

“You look cold, ” he said, “take it, ”

“Thank you, ” you responded, pushing your arms into the sleeves immediately.

It smelled just like him. This was your routine with him for the next three days. On the morning of your fourth day, the rain had stopped. The thing is, neither of you said anything. You just went about your day together like normal. The truth is, you liked it here. You were so much happier with him in his little house than you had ever been anywhere else.

“The rain stopped over a month ago, ” he said one day, “why haven't you left?” that definitely didn't come off the way he wanted it to.

“Oh well, I can leave if you'd like-”

“No. Stay, ” he said, “I want you here,”

He got up and wrapped both pairs of arms around you.

“Stay, ” he whispered.

“I will, ” you said, pushing your face into the crook of his neck.

He held you like that for a while, savoring the feeling of you in his arms. The months flew by. Soon the leaves turned orange and red and fell to the ground. Next, the ground was bright white from the snow, and tulips began to bloom in the spring.

‘Shit,’ Shigaraki thought, ‘its spring’

He'd been feeling strange lately, and after googling his symptoms, he realized he was going into his first heat. He googled many things that night, some disgusted him, and some did quite the opposite.

“Hey y/n, you should probably head back and get your things. You've been here a while, so I'm just assuming you're staying, ” Shigaraki said, trying to sound nonchalant.

“I'm alright, ” you smiled, tending to the little garden you'd started, “I've gone into town a few times. I have everything I need, ”

“No, really, I think it would be good, ” he said.

“Shiggy, if you want me to leave, it's ok, ” you said, standing up and stroking his cheek.

He loved when you did that. It always made his wings buzz happily.

“No!” he said, “I don't want you to leave, please stay, ”

You smiled, “I'm not going anywhere, ok? You don't have to be so anxious; I'm staying, ”

He nodded, “I just- um, ”

“Go on, ” you urged, combing your fingers through his hair.

“I um think I'm going into...heat, ” he whispered the last part, “and I don't want you to have to deal with that, ”

“I don't mind, ” you said, “if it's alright with you, I’d like to stay. I'll take care of you, ”

He smiled and wrapped both pairs of arms around you.

“You're amazing, ” he said.

You giggled, “so what even happens during your heat? Do you get sick or something?”

“It’s hard to explain, ” he muttered.

“How am I supposed to take care of you if I don't know what's wrong?” you said, pouting up at him.

He shoved his phone in your hand, “here, ”

You read the screen, eyes widening and cheeks getting hot.

You looked up at him, “so you um, ”

“Yeah, ” he muttered, “as I said, you don't have to stay. I’m serious.”

You took a deep breath, “I want to stay. I want to help you in any way I can, even if it means letting you take my virginity. Truthfully I’d be happy if you did, Tomura, ”

“You would?” he asked, “are you sure?”

You nodded, “I think I've liked you for a while now. Even if you don't feel the same way, I just want you to know that I'm okay with whatever you need to do to me, ” your breath hitched at the last part.

You'd never seen yourself as submissive. You never took shit from anyone. Shigaraki didn't see you as submissive either, even with all the things you’d said. When they mixed with your tone and personality, they sounded caring but not in a submissive sense.

You were dominant, but not in the way he'd always thought of it. You were like...

“Mommy, ” he whispered.

So soft and gentle. Calm and caring but independent and strong.

“Can I call you that? It just feels...right, ” he said.

You nodded, “um sure, ”

“Mommy, ” he sighed, pressing his face into the crook of your neck.

You reached up to run your fingers through his hair. Shigaraki groaned quietly.

“About what you said earlier, I like you too, y/n, ” he said.

You smiled and pecked him on the lips. After you pulled away, he pressed his lips to yours again immediately. He grabbed your hair, pulling you closer as you yelped in surprise. He laughed softly, starting to slip his tongue into your mouth. Tomura tried to dominate the kiss to no avail. Instead, he fell victim to the way you were able to move your tongue around in his mouth, leaving almost nothing untouched.

You pulled away, admiring the dark blush on his cheeks. He's so pretty.

“I'm sleepy, mommy, ” he said before yawning.

He picked you up and carried you upstairs. You laughed and kissed him on the cheek. He put you down on the bed and practically laid on top of you. He wrapped his arms around you, letting his wings act as your blanket.

“Goodnight, ” you whispered.

“G’night, mommy, ” he mumbled.

You awoke to something rubbing your thigh.

“Mommy, ” he moaned, “mommy, please. Please, it hurts so bad, mommy, ”

As you became more conscious, you realized that he was humping your thigh. He’d already made a sticky mess in his pants and on your own. You kissed him gently. Letting your soft lips contrast between the rough humping of your leg.

“Want, ” he moaned, “need to mate, mommy. I need to please, ”

“It's alright, sweetie, ” you said, pulling him between your legs.

He began humping your crotch, panting and drooling.

“Mommy, ” he slurred, “I want in. I want in you, ”

His wings had been buzzing violently ever since you agreed. One set of hands cupping your face and the other holding your hips in place as he rubbed his cock on your clothed pussy. You wiggled out of your pants with his help, and he practically ripped off his own pants. He pulled off his boxers and ripped off your panties. He shoved himself into you, nearly screaming at the way your warm wet cunt sucked his cock in. The way you clenched because he was big, so fucking big.

“Mommy, ” he chanted, “mommy, mommy, mommy, ”

He lasted a surprisingly long time, wandering fingers finding your clit. He slammed into you, slapping skin and squelching filled his ears, but all of this was drowned out by his moans and whimpers. Finally, Tomura pushed you over the edge. You clenched and came all around his cock with a loud moan.

“Mommy, ” he sobbed, “breed mommy, I need you to take my cum mommy. I need you to let me breed you and make you all pretty with my kids, ”

“Yes, Tomu, go ahead, sweetie. Breed, mommy, ” you moaned.

He gasped and sobbed as an absurd amount of cum flooded your cunt. It began to ooze out of your cunt around his cock. He collapsed on top of you, panting as his cock softened inside of you. His heat was over. His need to breed you was met. He was exhausted, couldn't move to bathe, only pass out with you safe in his arms.

Over time you did swell up with his kids. He was so excited to start a family, to claim you with his offspring. If you had his kids, you were his, end of story. No one was allowed to look at you or touch you.

‘Mommy’s so pretty when she's bred,’ he thought to himself as he kissed your stomach.

[titanicsimp]

Rising star

Pairing: Enji Todoroki x Female!Reader

Genres: Smut

Warnings: Sexual content including; vaginal and anal sex, creampies, degrading talk, general rough sex, manhandling, name calling, slight voyeurism, thigh riding.

Summary: You have been rising through the pro hero ranks like a rocket, and you can’t help but tease the new number one about it.

A/N: I’m a Enji fucker and I’m proud! 🗣

“And now, the pro hero ranked as number four this year is...”

“Ironheart!”

You could barely believe it as you jumped up from your seat. You made it into the top five!

You waved at the crowd, a big smile on your face as you joined the others on stage. The bright lights and camera flashes were a little overwhelming, but you could get used to it.

God did you feel good. You could take on the world in that moment, basking in the cheers of your fans. Last year you had been ranked twentieth, so this leap was huge.

As the announcer went back to announcing the list, you peaked over at the current number one hero. Endeavor was standing stone faced as always, but you caught him glancing at you from the side.

You smirked. You could practically smell the resentment from here. How thrilling, you would have to pay the flame hero a visit later.

-

Getting into Endeavor’s VIP room at the event had been a doozy. The guard had been too starstruck, only asking you to give him an autograph. You had cringed at the picture he had made you sign. It was one from the shoot the hero agency made you do, which had been done to market on your sex appeal. But you had pushed aside your agitation and walked right into Endeavor’s room.

The space they gave him is excessive really. The room is extremely spacious even though it’s equipted with two full sized couches, a long coffee table, and a bar with barstools and all.

Endeavor is sitting on the couch that faces the door, busy signing pictures of himself which he’ll be giving out later.

It takes only a second for him to notice you, and when he does he immediately puts on his flames. You chuckle under you breath. Really, who is he keeping the appearance up for?

“Long time no see, Endeavor.” You purr as you stride over to him.

He looks annoyed, so nothing new. “Get out.”

You scoff. “Not even a congratulations? I think I’m rising through the ranks faster than you ever have.”

You notice his eyebrow twitch at your comment. He’s so predictable.

“Number four is still a long way from number one.”

You touch his knee, stroking your hand up his leg gingerly. “Yet I’m standing so close to it.”

He regards you calculatingly with those blue eyes of his. “What do you want?”

You pull back your hand with a bright smile. “Well, I thought we could get to know each other better. Us being colleagues... or perhaps rivals, as some may call it.”

Endeavor crosses his arms. “I doubt anyone would regard us as rivals. You’re too far behind me.”

“Hhmm, you say that but I saw that little glance when we were up on the stage. Seems I’ve been on your mind, Endeavor.” You tell him.

You walk around the couch and go to stand behind him. Most people would back up from his flames, but you had nothing to worry about. The metal wristbands you wear start shifting under the influence of your quirk, quickly ungulfing your arms and hands so the metal fits around them like a glove.

You put your arms over Endeavor’s shoulders without care. He grunts disapprovingly, but does nothing to stop it.

“Your flames feel slightly hotter than last time, good job!” You giggle.

He sighs your name, not your hero name, but your real name. “Stop wasting my time.”

His flames die down and it seems like he really is done playing with you. You retract the metal around you back to look like simple wristbands.

You jump over the couch and sit down next to him, giving him sad eyes. “Who thought a flame hero could be so cold?”

“Especially after our little bathroom adventure last year...”

You feel Enji stiffen beside you. “Or do you do that with all upcoming heroes?”

You throw your legs over his lap, grinning at him. Yeah, that’s what you thought, he hasn’t forgotten.

Though he tries to keep his face straight, you can see it starting to crack. “You still don’t know what’s good for you.”

“I felt pretty good last time.” You quip back, and he finally snaps.

Enji throws your legs off of his lap and grabs your face, his big hand engulfing your chin and cheeks. “You need to be put in your place.”

You bat your eyelashes at him. “Why don’t you help me with that, number one?”

His free hand forces your legs open and cups your core through your herosuit. You both groan when his thick fingers rub over your slit, pushing the tight fabric and your panties against it.

“How do you even fight in this thing.” Enji says disapprovingly.

You roll your eyes. It’s not like you are the only hero in this room with a skin tight suit, and he seems to be enjoying it well enough.

A loud ripping sounds throughout the room and you gasp in shock at the hole he has created in your suit, exposing your panties.

You try to move to stop him before he can ruin that fabric as well, but within the seconds it takes you to react it’s too late. “Bastard!”

Enji chuckles. “Can’t afford to replace them?”

He knows damn well you can. You might not be ultra rich like him, but your hero career sure has payed off.

Sliding his fingers through your wetness testingly, he gives you a mocking grin. You buck up into his touch without embarrassment, he’s doing exactly what you want after all.

Enji’s grabs you and drags you onto his lap without a word. When you go to grind against his bulge, he stops you. He corrects you to sit on one of his thighs, giving you a pointed look.

You smirk at him. “How dirty of you, Enji.”

“Shut up and grind.” He growls in response.

Happily obliging, you sway your hips, dragging your wetness across his thigh. The fabric of his suit is a bit rough, but it only adds to the friction.

Enji brings his hand to your throat, squeezing it lightly as you ride his thigh. You smile at him, softly moaning under your breath.

“Look at you, getting off on rubbing yourself against me like a bitch in heat.” He says with a condescending tone, but his body tells a different story.

You can see the large tent in his pants, making his excitement quite obvious.

A whimper leaves your mouth when his fingers squeeze tighter and a rush of wetness slicks your thighs.

Enji’s gaze turns darker with lust the longer he watches you slide yourself up and down his thigh. Getting an idea, you lean forward and lick across the length of his neck, causing him to shiver under you.

Maintaining a tight grip on your neck, he moves you off of him and then throws you onto the coffee table in front of the couch.

A oof leaves your mouth as you hit the wood, the slam having slightly taken your breath. When Enji looms over you, you shoot him a grin. Would’ve been a real smacker if your skin wasn’t infused with minuscule metal pieces.

The corners of his mouth turn upwards at seeing your reaction. Being able to throw you around without consequence turns him on to no end.

Enji flips you over, propping your ass up. You grab onto the end of the table. If it will be anything like last time, you’ll need something to hold onto.

You bite your lip when he drags his cock through your wetness. God, it’s your favorite part of him without a doubt.

“Are you ready?” Enji asks from behind you, but as you open your mouth to answer, he slams his cock all the way inside of you in a swift thrust.

You scream loudly at the feeling of his thick length stretching you out. It stings a bit, but in all the ways you like.

His big hands grab onto your ass as he starts fucking into you, groaning loudly.

His thrusts are so hard and his pace changes constantly, making you grab onto the table so hard your fingers turn white.

“A slut like you will never outrank me.” Enji growls, his grip on you tightening.

You mewl at his statement. Him talking down to you only makes your walls clench around his cock.

He lifts one hand off of your ass, only to bring it down in a hard slap. Noises and cries escape your lips without stopping as he spanks your ass and continues to ram him himself into you.

“That useless guard is still outside, I wonder if he’s hearing you cry out for my cock.” He pants out.

“I bet he’s enjoying it.” You get interrupted multiple times by Enji’s thrusts, but you get your sentence out eventually.

“Ah Endeavor!” You scream out extra loudly on purpose.

You feel his cock twitch inside you. “Giving him a show?”

You giggle breathlessly. “Come now, don’t be jealous.”

With a rip, Enji tears your suit up further, exposing your asshole as well. You hear him spit on his hand before he presses one finger into your ass. Your back arches at the new sensation and your cunt twitches in pleasure.

“Scream then.” He commands, slowing his pace just slightly so he can finger your ass.

As soon as he feels you relax, he adds a second, and your eyes tear up at the fullness. You start feeling so hot, and you have no doubt that it’s radiating from Enji.

When he rubs his fingers against your wall where he feels his cock, you cum suddenly. Your vision goes blank for a second as your orgasm washes over you, your legs shaking violently.

With a loud groan, Enji follows suit and empties himself inside of your cunt. His pace doesn’t slow down for quite a bit, fucking his cum into you.

When he’s finished, he pulls out of you suddenly, letting his cum drip out onto his cock. He fists his length, lubing it up with your mixed juices.

You can sense what’s coming next, Enji’s fingers still in your ass.

“Tell him what I’m about to do.” He tells you.

It takes you a moment to even remember the guard, but when you do you smirk. Seems like it gets Enji’s fire going, so why not.

“Please Endeavor, fuck my ass!” You yell out.

He removes his fingers and presses the head of his cock against your tight hole. “I’m going to have you walking around with cum dripping from your holes like the dirty slut you are.”

With that promise, he presses forward into you. He goes slower when entering your ass, but you still struggle to keep up.

When fully seated inside you, he gives your ass a loud slap, causing you to yelp out. As soon as he starts thrusting, you both know that neither of you is going to last long.

Enji’s fingers find your clit, rubbing and pinching at it as he fucks into you.

By this point you’re a sweating, drooling mess, and when you approach another orgasm, you whine desperately. “Fuck Endeavor, ruin me!”

His low chuckle makes a shiver run over your spine. “As you wish.”

He starts slamming himself into you, not holding back in the slightest. Your chest pushes against the table aggressively as he fucks you into it.

You cry out his name as with a last rub at your clit, you cum again. The table is a blessing as your legs give out, keeping your body up.

Enji uses your body till he’s cumming again as well. Your body already feels so hot, and his cum filling you ass too doesn’t help. You whimper and flex your sore fingers from grabbing on when he pulls out.

Your ass, cunt and thighs are absolutely drenched in his cum, his thick loads still leaking out of you.

Too tired to move for now, you watch as Enji grabs a marker from the table. He scribbles something onto your asscheek, giving it a final slap afterwards.

He comes into vision after he has adjusted his suit, his figure showing no trace of what the two of you just did.

“Let’s do this again, hero.” He tells you as he throws the marker at you, the last word clearly mocking.

Later, when you go to clean up, you spot what he wrote in the mirror. You smirk as you look at the phone number that he wrote onto your asscheek. Snapping a quick picture of your cum covered ass, you send it to his number with the message ‘I knew you’d warm up to me ♥️’.

[faggyangel]

In the early hours of the morning, while the golden sun streams through their apartment window, Mickey stirs at a knock on the door. 

He shakes Ian, whose limbs are wrapped tight around him, his drool pooling on his chest. Ian grumbles something but doesn’t move. 

“Someone’s at the door, shithead, go get it,” Mickey shakes him again. 

Ian yawns and stretches his arms, laying flat on his back now, “Who the fuck is here this early?” Ian turns back to Mickey, smiling, “You know what day it is?” 

Mickey scrunches his eyebrows, trying to remember, “Uh, shit, a Tuesday?” He searches his brain for the date but he doesn’t get very far before Ian jumps on him, pressing kisses to his face. 

“It’s your birthday!” Ian says, far too loudly in Mickey’s opinion, in between kisses. 

Oh. 

Mickey knew Ian would want to celebrate. He’s been getting better at the whole self-love thing. Instead of sulking in their room, remembering all the times he was punished for his excitement until he figured out his existence isn’t something to celebrate, they would go out and get dinner and come home drunk on both alcohol and love. Though he can’t help but feel an ache in his chest for his forlorn upbringing. 

“Christ. I forgot,” Mickey places his hands on Ian’s hips, “I’m getting old.” 

Ian scoffs, “Don’t say that. You’re still in your twenties, doofus.” 

Mickey rolls his eyes and pushes Ian off his lap, “Go get the door.” 

Ian complies, leaving one last kiss on his cheek. 

He overhears a soft conversation, hushed and excited. 

He barely makes out what sounds like a woman’s voice paired with Ian’s. Mickey rubs his eyes, trying to rack his brain for any neighbor they might have pissed off last night who would come over to complain. He quickly throws on clothes and walks out to the living room to see Ian standing in the kitchen with Tami. 

She makes eye contact with him, “Fucking finally.” 

“What the hell do you mean ‘finally.’ It’s nine in the fucking morning.” 

“For normal people with healthy sleep schedules, it’s late,” she cocks her hips out, “Came to drop off your present, asshole, say thank you.” 

He punches her shoulder lightly, “Thanks, dick.” 

She holds out a small box, wrapped neatly in green wrapping paper. He haphazardly rips it off and opens it.  

There's an assortment of gifts. The first thing he pulls out is a Mickey Mouse plushie with a card taped to the front. The writing is messy, scribbled crayon, it reads: 

“hapy birth day, uncle mickey

freddie.” 

“Cool,” Mickey’s voice breaks, Tami and Ian snicker. 

“Lip helped pick out the toy,” Tami adds. 

“Fucker,” Mickey gently places the gift on the countertop. 

He goes back in and grabs a package wrapped in plastic. He realizes it’s soap and shampoo, a certain kind he told Tami he wanted a while ago, “How the fuck did you remember this?” 

Tami shrugs, “You’re my friend, stupid. There’s also a cookbook, Lip got that for both of you since Ian’s getting into growing his own food.”  

Mickey grabs the book that’s sitting on the bottom of the box, glancing at it before tossing it to Ian, “Thank you,” he nods and before he realizes it, she’s hugging him and pulling away. 

“Happy birthday, Mick. Love you guys,” Tami kisses Ian’s cheek, “I gotta go, see ya.” 

“Bye, Tami,” Ian waves, turning back to Mickey, who’s still standing, staring at the gifts that Tami dropped off. 

“Hey,” Ian says softly, rubbing his shoulders, “You good, baby?” 

Mickey nods, “Yeah, I’m fine. It’s just-you know-” 

Ian does know. Not only because Mickey told him how weird it is, how uncomfortable he gets when people do things like this for him-nice things-but also because Ian experiences it himself. Maybe not to the same degree as Mickey, but he’s seen the way Ian malfunctions when one of his friends gets him something nice. He knows he has the same sort of wary confusion when they get to have good things. 

Mickey leans into Ian’s touch, “Wanna go back to sleep.” 

Ian rests his chin in the crook of Mickey’s neck, turning his face to plant a kiss on his cheek, “We can do that, baby.” 

They go back to sleep until one, Ian wakes him again gently, whispering in his ear that they have to get up because Kev and Vee need help in the Alibi. 

“It’s my fucking birthday, they should helping me!” Mickey yelped as Ian poked his side. 

“Come on. The minute they’re done, we’ll come back here and sleep to your heart's content.” 

“So forever?” Mickey asked from underneath a pillow. 

Ian made an alarmed sound from the back of his throat, Mickey threw a pillow at his head, “Not like that, asswipe. Just tired today.” 

Ian nods, sympathetic despite Mickey’s attack, “I know, honey. I promised them we would both go. So get your birthday ass up.” 

Mickey does in fact get his ass up. After thirty more minutes of complaining, they’re off to the Alibi. 

Ian pulls up to the bar and parks right in front of the doors. Mickey’s about to get out when Ian grabs his arm, “Okay, cards on the table, we planned a surprise party for you.” 

Mickey tilts in his head, perplexed by Ian’s definition of surprise, “I don’t think you know how surprises work, lover.” 

Ian picks at the skin of his lip, his eyes narrowed at the hollow of Mickey’s throat, “I just know you don’t like surprises.” 

Mickey sits back in his seat, watching as Ian nervously gnaws at his chapped lips. They’ve had this talk before, mainly about Mickey’s sleeping. Ian’s learned from experience after sleeping in the same bed with him for five plus years that no one should ever shake Mickey awake. Or yell to wake him up. Or sneak up on him. Mickey’s always been hyper aware of his surroundings, it was never something he concerned himself with, ignoring the panic that reached up his throat with surprises. Though recently, Ian told him he has symptoms of PTSD rather than just being cautious. 

“Alright,” Mickey nods, “How many people?” 

“Just my family. I called Mandy but-” 

“She’s working, I know.” 

“She said happy birthday. Kev and Vee obviously. Tami,” Ian squirms in his seat like he’s nervous. 

“Right, well, can’t sit out here forever.” 

The minute they step into the bar, everyone screams surprise. 

Ian was right, that wouldn’t have been good for anyone had Mickey not known. 

“Uncle Mickey!” Franny screams and hugs his legs, “I made you a card!” She presents a card covered in glitter, depicting two stick figures holding guns and bags of money. 

For the second time today, Mickey has to stop himself from crying. Bending down to hug her, he pats her hair and tells her he loves it. 

“Uncle Ian helped!” 

“Did he now?” Mickey raises an eyebrow at his husband, who nods proudly at his niece. 

“Happy birthday, Mick!” Tami calls out, rocking Freddie in her arms. 

Mickey nods and immediately gravitates to the bar, sitting down next to Lip, who’s playing with Freddie’s fingers. 

Kev sets down a beer, “On the house for family, dude.” 

Mickey takes it, trying not to show his unease, he grumbles, “Thanks,” before turning his attention to Ian who’s bending down and talking to Franny and Liam. 

“Hey, Mickey,” Lip greets, distracted. 

“Yo,” Mickey’s about ready to comfortably sit in silence, just enjoying watching on the outskirts as his in-laws mingle. 

“Ian tell you about the party?” Lip asks nonchalantly. 

“Uh, yeah. Right before.” 

“Knew he would. While we were fucking putting it together, he-” 

“Wait, hold on,” Mickey interrupted him, “You helped plan this shit?” 

Lip deadpans, “Uh, yeah. Well, obviously Ian said he wanted to do something for your birthday but I figured we should have it here, you know. With family.” 

Family. 

He remembers the kitchen conversation, it feels like it happened so long ago. The sinking feeling in his stomach when Lip told him he wasn’t family. To a degree, he understood what he meant, but he still felt the words hit his chest like a bullet. 

“Thought I wasn’t family,” Mickey teases, watching as the realization dawns on Lip, recognition enveloping his eyes. 

“Shit, Mickey, that wasn’t-” Mickey cuts him off by waving a hand. 

“It’s alright, shithead. Don’t give a shit,” Mickey lies, he does give shit, many in fact, but he doesn’t need Lip knowing that. 

“Sure, but you are family, you know that, right?” Lip doesn’t make eye contact with him, just continues playing with his son's fingers.  

Mickey sits on the bar stool, trying to cope with the knowledge that all of these people-these stupid fucking Gallaghers and Balls and Tamiettis-care about him enough to throw him a surprise birthday party. 

His fucking family. 

Ian apparently takes notice of his discomfort and walks over to him, Franny on his hip, “Hey, you good?” With the hand that isn’t holding up a six year-old, he rubs his back, eventually resting his palm on the nape of his neck. 

Mickey nods, “It’s just a lot, man.” 

Ian nods, “I know. Do you wanna go?” 

Mickey shakes his head, staring at the sleepy Franny who buries her head into Ian’s shoulder, her cheek squished on his collarbone. 

“Nah, I’m good,” Mickey says as Franny stretches out her arms, opening and closing her fists. 

“You wanna go with Uncle Mickey instead?” Ian asks her. 

When she nods, he kisses the top of her head and passes her to Mickey. Ian giggles as Mickey’s eyes go wide then soften, his shoulders relaxing as Franny peacefully transitions from one Uncle to the next, blissfully unaware of Mickey’s internal panic. 

“Happy birthday, Mickey,” Ian kisses his cheek and leans into his side, sliding an arm around his torso. 

“I think it might be.”

[dadbodosamu]

what’s my name? [daddy] || part 2

Stepdad Osamu x Cis!Fem Reader

WARNINGS: pregnancy, degradation, squirting, vomit (nonsexual), cheating, toxic relationship??, age gap (Osamu’s in his thirties and reader is 18), voyeurism, daddy kink, oral (m receiving), cockwarming, exactly one (1) spank, overstimulation, tummy bulge, pseudoincest, mentions of threesome, mentions of double penetration, dacryphilia, breeding?? maybe?, thigh riding

3.6k words

tagging @candy-hime bc i love u bb

part one || part two || part three

You tap your fingernails against the porcelain sink as your phone counts down from five minutes. Each second seems slower than the last and at this point, four minutes and 52 seconds, you’re ready to throw your phone across the room.

“What does it say?” Osamu asks through the door. You want to scream.

“Nothing. It doesn’t say anything yet,” you snap. You take a deep breath and continue. “It takes five minutes. Four and a half minutes left.”

“Can I come in?” He asks, softly.

You hesitate before slowly unlocking the door and letting him in.

The already small bathroom feels that much smaller with Osamu’s large frame in it. You try not to feel claustrophobic as Osamu grabs your hand.

“It’s all going to be okay, no matter what the test says,” he says.

You’re overcome with the urge to laugh, cry, and scream all at once. Of course he thinks it’ll all be okay, he’s not the one possibly pregnant with his step-father’s baby.

Three minutes and 48 seconds.

Your mother was going to be crushed. Her only child, knocked up at eighteen by none other than her step-father.

You bite your lip to hold back tears as you think of your mother.

“What’s the matter, sweetheart?” Osamu asks, pulling you into a tight hug. You want to cringe at his touch but your body instinctively relaxes in his hold.

“Mom…” you say, “she’s going to be crushed.”

“And what about ya? How do ya feel?” He asks.

“Sick,” you answer shortly. “Anxious. Like I’m going to throw up any second now. How could I do this to her?”

Osamu doesn’t respond, just continues to rub your back as the seconds count down.

Your heart stops when your timer goes off.

“It’s ready,” you say, pulling away from Osamu. You grab the pregnancy test and take a deep breath before glancing down at it.

Positive.

You drop the test like it’s bit you. Oh god, it’s positive. You’re pregnant with Osamu’s child.

Osamu picks the test up right as you shove past him to vomit into the toilet.

“Yer pregnant,” he says. You gag. “We’re going to have a baby.”

You wipe your mouth on your sleeve and look at him. His eyes are glossy and his lips are stretched into the happiest smile you’ve ever seen. It makes you want to vomit again.

“Why are you smiling?” You demand. Your throat burns as the acid in your stomach threatens to come up.

“I’m going to have a baby,” he says, grabbing your shoulders. “I’m going to be a father.”

You want to attack him.

“How could you be happy about this?” You hiss. “This is terrible. I don’t want this.”

“That’s not what ya were sayin’ when I was balls deep in yer cunt last night,” Osamu says. “Or any night, for that matter.”

“Do you not care at all what my mom is going to say?” You demand. “Have you thought for one second about anything but yourself? You’re my step-father, for fuck’s sake!”

“That hasn’t stopped ya before,” Osamu says. “I don’t care about that. I care about you and this baby. Our baby.”

Your face softens at his words. “Other people care. My mom’s going to care. She’ll go crazy when we tell her. What if she calls the cops? What are we going to do?”

“What we do isn’t illegal,” Osamu says. “Immoral, maybe. But not illegal.”

“She’s going to hate me,” you whimper. Osamu sighs and pulls you into his chest tightly.

“What do ya want, sweetheart?” He asks, softly. “Daddy has to know what ya want so he can get it for ya.”

“You. I want you,” you say. Osamu squeezes you lightly. “I just want to be with you all the time, daddy.”

“Ya know daddy can’t say no to ya, baby girl,” he says. “We’ll tell yer mom tonight, okay?”

“Everything?” You ask, looking up at him. He nods. “She’ll kick us out. Let’s just tell her I’m pregnant, not everything yet. Let’s just wait.”

“Whatever ya want, baby girl,” Osamu says. “Ya just tell her yer pregnant and I’ll support ya if she gets mad.”

“I need to lay down,” you mumble, pulling away from him. Osamu carefully leads you to your bed, helping you down slowly.

“Can we cuddle, please?” You ask softly.

“Do you want me to make you something to eat first, sweetheart?” He asks. You shake your head.

“Jus’ wan’ you t’ hold me,” you say through a yawn. “Wan’ daddy.”

“Of course, baby,” Osamu says. You move over to make room for his large frame in your small bed. “Daddy’s got you.” He wraps strong arms around you and presses a kiss to your forehead as he holds you tightly.

Your mom comes home to you and Osamu on the couch, you with your head casually in Osamu’s lap as he combed his fingers through your hair. This wasn’t an uncommon sight, and your mom went straight into telling the two of you about her day.

“This patient was crazy, literally! He’s outside smoking a cigarette, meanwhile his blood sugar is through the roof! Like, this man is dead, he just doesn’t know it yet!” Your mom exclaims, slamming the door behind her.

“Hey, mom,” you greet, sitting upright. “Dinner’s ready whenever you want to eat.”

“We decided to wait on ya tonight,” Osamu added, standing up with a stretch.

“You two are too sweet,” she says, smiling widely. “You didn’t have to wait for me, you know I’m okay eating alone.”

“Well, I have some big news for after dinner, so I convinced Daddy to wait,” you say.

“Ooo, sounds exciting! Well, let’s eat so you can share your news!” Your mom says, excitedly.

The table is already set perfectly, plates of your mom’s favourites filling empty spaces and a bottle of her favourite wine in the center.

“Goodness! All my favourites? Y/n, you’re not trying to butter me up, are you? I’d almost think you were going to tell me you’re pregnant or something,” she says, taking a seat.

You and Osamu both let out forced laughter as you join her.

“It’s just what you deserve, Mom,” you say.

“Well, thank you, sweet pea,” she says, beaming at you. “And thank you, too, Osamu. I’m sure you cooked most of this.”

“It’s no problem,” Osamu says. “Let’s eat, yeah?”

“Itadakimasu.”

The three of you fill your plates and glasses, you pointedly turning down the wine your mom offers you. She gives you a look, but doesn’t say anything.

“So, what’s the news?” Your mom asks as she finishes her last onigiri.

You glance at Osamu.

“Mom, I’m pregnant,” you say.

“Pregnant?” Your mom asks. “Goodness, I-I need a minute.”

She steps out the back door, sliding the door shut behind her.

Osamu looks over at you. “Are you okay, sweetheart?” He asks. You nod.

“She’s handling it better than I thought,” you say. “I thought I’d be packing my bag right about now. I think I’m going to step outside with her.”

Osamu kisses your forehead before letting you walk out the back door.

Your mom is sitting on the porch swing, face in her hands.

“Mom?” You call. When she looks up, you can tell she’s been crying.

“How did this happen?” She asks.

“Didn’t think I’d have to explain the birds and the bees to you, Mom,” you tease, halfheartedly.

“Do you have some secret boyfriend I don’t know about?” She asks, ignoring you.

“It was just some dumb, one night stand,” you say, sitting next to her. “Hell, I can barely remember the guy’s face.”

The lies slip off your tongue easier than they would’ve before you and Osamu became involved. You think of every night you’d said you were staying with friends when you were really in some cheap motel with Osamu and wince.

“What’s his name?” Your mom asks.

“Does it matter?” You ask. “He won’t be involved at all.”

“Do you even know his name? God, I didn’t think you’d be so dumb,” your mom says. Her words hit like a punch to the gut.

“It was…” you hesitate. “It was a mistake.” As if anything you and Osamu had done was a mistake. The words taste like bile in your throat. “A dumb mistake.”

“We taught you better than to just sleep with random people. Or at least, I thought we did,” she spits. “At least let me know the name.”

“I’m not going to apologise for being human,” you say. “And I won’t be telling you the name.”

“You’ll tell me or you’ll leave,” she says. Her threat rolls off of you like water.

“Then I’ll leave,” you say, standing up. You open the back door.

“If you leave, don’t come back!” Your mom exclaims.

“Gladly!” You shoot back. You slam the door behind you. Osamu is immediately at your side.

“I’m leaving!” You exclaim. “I should just tell her the full truth, see how she likes that! She couldn’t blame me for it, after all, I’m too dumb!”

“The full truth?” Your mom asks, sliding the door open.

You turn on your heel to face her as Osamu stands between you two, ready for a fight to break out.

“Oh, you’d fucking hate it,” you taunt, crossing your arms. “It’s dirty and perverted and so fucking good!”

“You probably got knocked up by some pervert on the streets! That’s why you won’t tell me his name, you probably don’t even know it!”

“Miya Osamu!”

All three of you freeze.

“Huh?” Your mom blinks slowly. She looks at Osamu, then at you. “The. Two. Of. You? The father?”

Your mom seems to buffer as she continuously looks between you two.

“Get out.”

“Mom, wait, I can explain,” you beg, grabbing her hands. She jerks away from you. “I didn’t mean it!”

“You’re sick,” she says, lip curling. Her face pales as she looks at Osamu. “You raised her, you bastard! From a little girl! Oh my- oh my god, she calls you ‘daddy’.” Your mom’s face turns a sickening green. “You get off on that, don’t you, you sick fuck?! My daughter!”

“Mom, it’s not like-“ She cuts you off.

“Y/n, did he force you? Has he been grooming you this whole time?” She turns to face Osamu again. “Get out of here, you motherfucker!”

“Mom, I love him!” You shout. She freezes and robotically turns towards you.

“He raised you,” she whimpers. “He’s probably been grooming you since the day you met.”

“Mom, he’s never done anything I didn’t want,” you say. “I’m the one that controls the relationship.”

“I love her, too,” Osamu says, wrapping his arm around your shoulders. “I know it’s sick, but I can’t help it.”

Your mom stays silent for a moment.

“I need you both out,” she says. “You can pack a bag but you both need to be out within the next fifteen minutes.”

“Mom, I’m sorry,” you say, wiping away a stray tear. “I never wanted to hurt you.”

“Give me time,” she says before retreating to her bedroom.

You sniffle as you wipe your face with your sleeve.

“Come on, let’s get you a bag packed. Atsumu already has his guest room set up for us. We’ll be okay, baby,” Osamu says, holding your shoulders. He kisses your forehead before leading you to your room.

Your mom doesn’t reappear until Osamu is already carrying your bag to the car.

“You’re my daughter, and I’ll always love you, Y/n,” she says, standing across the room from you. “But this isn’t something that we’ll be able to overcome. You and Osamu can get the rest of your things tomorrow while I’m at work, but I don’t want to see either of you again. Leave your keys on the table when you leave.”

“I’m sorry this happened,” you say, unable to stop your tears. “I really am, Mom. If I could change it, I would. I love you.”

“I hope you find happiness,” she says. Osamu’s hands land on your shoulders from behind and your mom’s face crumbles. “Goodbye.”

She watches you and Osamu leave the house. The lock clicks behind you as soon as the door closes.

“I wish this hadn’t happened like this,” Osamu says as he starts the car. You nod.

“I didn’t want to tell her like this,” you mumble. “She deserved the truth, but not like this.”

“I love you,” Osamu says, bringing your hand up to his lips. “I’m sorry this happened.”

“I love you,” you say, smiling sadly. “I guess I wouldn’t change it if that meant not having you.”

Atsumu’s apartment is much smaller than your mom’s house.

“There’s my favourite niece!” Atsumu exclaims, hugging you tightly and spinning you around before placing you back on the ground. “Or my favourite sister-in-law? I don’t care, yer my favourite girl.”

Despite how sad you feel, Atsumu manages to pull a genuine smile and laugh out of you.

“Uncle Tsumu!” You exclaim as Osamu passes you with your bags.

“Ah, so I still get to be Uncle,” he says, smiling. It doesn’t shock you with how nonchalantly Atsumu takes the news.

“Of course,” you say. “If Daddy still gets to be Daddy, you’re still Uncle.”

“Come on in, little one, let’s get ya out of the night air before the bugs get ya,” Atsumu says, leading you in.

Osamu already had your pajamas in hand when you walked in. After showering and changing quickly, you join the twins on the couch, squeezing in between them. Your hand ghosts over Osamu’s thigh before he grabs your hand and intertwines your fingers.

“So… I think it’s gonna to be a girl,” Atsumu says, draping his arm across your shoulders. “Any bets?”

“With our luck?” Osamu chuckles. “Twin boys.”

You rub your hand over your stomach. “I don’t really care one way or the other,” you say. “But I want twins.”

“What do ya think it’ll be?” Osamu asks.

“I think maybe one of each,” you say. “But that might just be wishful thinking.”

Atsumu let out a loud yawn.

“Well, it’s time for me to go to bed. I have practice in the morning. Help yerselves to anything in the fridge,” he says, standing up and stretching. “Let me know if ya need anything, little one.”

“Thanks for letting us stay here, Uncle Tsumu,” you say.

“Anything fer my favourite girl,” he says. He leans down and kisses your forehead. “G’night, little one.”

“Night,” Osamu says.

“Good night, Tsumu,” you say. Atsumu stumbles away with another yawn, leaving you and Osamu in the television-lit living room alone.

You climb into Osamu’s lap as soon as you hear Atsumu’s door click closed. He wraps his arms around you firmly and looks down at you.

“What do ya need, baby?” Osamu asks. “I know yer wantin’ something, baby girl.”

“I’m so tired, Daddy,” you say. You let out a small yawn. “I just want to be close to you.” You innocently shift in his hold, grinding against his soft dick. It twitches lightly.

“Ya wanna sit on Daddy’s cock, huh? Is that what ya want, sweetheart?” Osamu asks, rolling his hips. His cock hardens under you almost instantly.

“Yes, Daddy,” you moan softly. “Want your cock in me.”

“Yer such a naughty girl,” Osamu says. “Wantin’ yer daddy’s cock where Uncle Tsumu could walk in any minute.” You let out a small moan at the thought. “Oh? Ya want Uncle Tsumu to catch us? Want him to see Daddy filling up yer cute, little cunt? Or maybe you want Tsumu to fill ya up, huh, baby girl? Both of us at the same time, fillin’ both yer little holes so well.”

“Please, please,” you gasp, grinding against his thighs. “Wanna be full. So full, Daddy, please.”

“Such a little slut,” Osamu says, guiding your hips. “It’s not enough to fuck yer daddy, you wanna fuck yer uncle, too? Just tryin’ to get the whole family, huh?”

You nod. “Want Daddy and Uncle Tsumu!” You exclaim. Osamu claps a hand over your mouth.

“Uncle Tsumu is bein’ so nice t’ let us stay here and you wanna wake him up? I thought my little girl knew how to be polite,” Osamu says. Your thighs shake as a knot forms in your stomach.

“Daddy,” you whine, rolling your hips faster. “Close.”

“Is my baby gonna cum on Daddy’s thigh like a bitch in heat?” Osamu coos. “Come on, baby, cum on Daddy’s thigh like a good girl.”

“Daddy,” you moan. Osamu kisses you hard as you moan louder.

“Fuck, yer soakin’ me, sweetheart,” Osamu breathes as you cum on his thighs. You bite your lip to keep quiet. “Ya want Daddy’s cock now, sweetie?”

You nod. You stand on wobbly legs to kick your pajama shorts and panties off as Osamu pushes his shorts down just enough to reveal his heavy cock.

“Daddy, I wanna taste you,” you say, falling to your knees in front of him. “Please, Daddy, you look so good.”

“Go ahead, baby,” he says, patting your hair as you wrap your fingers around his hard cock.

You lean down to lick along the throbbing vein that runs down the left side of his cock before you take the purpling tip into your mouth.

“Fuck, good girl,” he hisses, tangling his fingers in your hair. He isn’t pushing down (yet), but his hands left no room to pull back. You circled the tip, moaning as a spurt of precum landed on your tongue.

“Come on, suck it like a good girl,” he grunts, forcing your head lower. You gag as he hits the back of your throat and Osamu lets out a long, low moan. “Might just fuck yer face since ya can’t listen.”

You place your hands on either of his thighs, signaling for him to go ahead with his plan.

“Oh, yer such a good girl for Daddy,” he groans. He holds your head in place as he thrusts into your open mouth, moaning when your throat tightens around his length.

“Fuck, so good,” he grits out. He pulls your head back and moans at the sight of your swollen lips and glassy eyes. “Tongue out.” Your jaw drops and your tongue lols out. He pats his cock against your tongue seconds before cum spurts out, landing on your lips and in your open mouth.

“Swallow for me, sweetheart,” he moans. You swallow the cum in your mouth before licking your lips for the extra that didn’t quite make it in your mouth.

“Wan’ your cock, please, Daddy,” you whine as Osamu wipes cum off your chin. He sticks his cum-coated thumb in your mouth and you suck it clean.

“Come ‘ere,” Osamu grunts, lifting you up into his lap. He slowly inched you down on his cock.

“More, Daddy, more,” you beg as he slowly bottoms out. “Fuck me.”

“Be good and sit on Daddy’s cock for a minute,” he says, wrapping his arms around you. He pulls you into his chest and rests his chin on your head.

You whine as you squirm around, trying to get Osamu to finally fuck you. He slaps your ass as you fidget.

“The more ya move, the longer we’ll stay like this,” Osamu says. “Now be good and be still.”

You pout as you relax into Osamu’s chest. It was agonising as his cock stretched you. Your walls were throbbing and fluttering around him, desperate for even the smallest movement.

“Daddy, please,” you beg, eyes burning with unshed tears. “I need you.”

Osamu presses down on your lower stomach where his cock was deep inside you. You moaned.

“Feel how deep Daddy is?” He breathes, thumb circling your clit. “Look how swollen ya look with just my cock. In a few weeks, you’ll be swollen with my baby.”

You moan. Osamu’s thumb moves faster on your clit.

“Daddy,” you whine. “I-I feel weird.”

“Hold on just a second, baby,” Osamu says. You gasp as he presses on your clit. The feeling in the pit of your stomach heightens. You almost feel like you’re going to explode.

You open your mouth to tell Osamu when he rolls his hips. You let out a loud moan as your juices squirt out, soaking Osamu’s shorts and part of his shirt.

“Fuck, look how messy ya are,” Osamu growls. You moan loudly as your pussy gushes again and you fall limp into Osamu’s chest, tears streaming down your face.

“Squirted all over Daddy like a good girl,” Osamu praises. His thumb hasn’t stopped and you still haven’t stopped cumming on his cock.

“Fuck,” Osamu growls. He grips your hips tightly and fucks into you roughly.

Your skin burns where his slaps against yours. You cry out as your head falls against his shoulder.

“So fuckin’ wet for me,” he grunts. The nasty squelching sounds only highlight his words. You moan as Osamu plays with your overstimulated clit.

“Daddy, Daddy, Daddy,” you cry as he fucks you.

“Open,” He orders. Your mouth drops open without a second thought as he shoves wet fingers down your throat. You gag as you suck on them. “Good girl.”

Tears stroll down your face as Osamu relentlessly thrusts into your cunt.

“Gonna fill yer sloppy, little, cunt up,” Osamu grunts. Your walls clench around him. “Oh, Daddy’s messy slut likes that, huh?” Your walls clench again.

“Fuck, gonna fill ya up,” he groans. His cock twitches deep inside you seconds before he cums.

“So good, daddy,” you moan as you ride him through his orgasm.

Osamu hisses once you’ve milked him dry, overstimulated and sensitive.

“How’d’ya like the show, Tsumu?” Osamu asks.

Your head jerks around to see Atsumu standing across the room, dick hard and heavy in his hands.

“Oh, it was great,” Atsumu says. “Liked that part at the beginning. Something about taking us both at the same time?”

[erensthottie]

Bonnie & Clyde — 1

[Eren Jaeger x black f!reader]

[Song] ‘03 Bonnie & Clyde | Jay Z & Beyoncé

[Warnings] swearing, use of marijuana, act of robbery, a bit of sexual activity, mention of blood

BLRRRRRRR

“WOO! Fuck yeah! Let’s go!” One of the robbers yells as he runs out of the bank smiling big with two duffel bags full of money. Smiling with him, another taller than the first runs behind him to the food truck that the getaway driver awaits in.

Running out with more duffel bags in y’all hands, you and Eren race out to the truck. Helping you in, the robbers take the bags throwing them in, and grabs onto your hands so you can jump into the moving truck.

Just then you guys hear the sound of police sirens blaring from around the bend. Coming at full speed they drift the corner, accelerating to catch up to y’all. Making eye contact with one of the officers, you smirk, blowing them a kiss and a wink before you and Eren close the doors.

“Step on it Alert!” Eren yells to Armin in the driver's seat.

Taking your seats, you sat in Eren’s lap, legging draping over his as you enveloped your arms around his neck full out making out with him. His hands rest on your lower back and outer thigh pulling you close to him, tilting his head to the side, deepening the kiss even more.

“Your so bad you know that?” He smirks at you, slapping you on your thigh making you jump, giggling and smiling pulling him back in.

“What now boss?” One of the robbers asks as he takes off his mask. The same one who ran out first.

“Yeah, boss?” The other one, the taller one adds in.

Eren stops kissing you for a minute, still holding onto you looking at both men.

“Well, Connie… Jean. Now, we celebrate.” He smiles looking back at you.

“What’d you say beautiful?” He rubs your thigh, eyes never leaving yours.

Face getting warm and your body heating up, you softly nod with a low hum, looking right at him, leaning back into him for another kiss which he gladly accepts.

“Yeah!” Everyone cheers.

“Yes sir.” The men voice, bowing and taking their half into their duffel bag.

“Sir, the chef has informed me that dinner is prepared and ready.” A man with freckles told to Eren.

“Sir, the chef has informed me that dinner is prepared and ready.” A man with freckles told to Eren.

He grunts and makes his way to the route of the master bedroom which you currently stayed.

“You guys can take a plate, me and Y/n will take our share later.” He says as he walks over to the elevator down the hall. Getting in, he presses the third floor and leans back on the railing.

“Beautiful?” He calls as he walks into the living room from the elevator making his way to the room.

“Yes, darling?” You walk out, leaning against the door frame in a small lingerie dress that barely covered your thighs and ass.

Eren's eyes widen and his face turns red as he stops in his tracks. Dropping the bag, Eren lowers his head smiling, tongue poking his cheek while he scratches his chin. He slowly tilts his head back, with low eyes and inspecting your beautiful and amazing body in the sensual and seductive outfit.

"You know," he starts as he untucks his dress shirt, undoing the buttons on it then throwing it somewhere in the living room making his way toward your direction.

"You really are something right. This all for me beautiful?"

Eren unbuckles his belt allowing it to cascade to the wood tiles. Only inches away from you know, he wraps an arm around your body and pulls you close enough, placing a hand on the back of your neck guiding you to lean into the kiss.

You both makeout, entangled in each other pleasure blindly navigating through the room and successfully finding the bed tumbling right onto it while being able to not break the kiss.

"The things that you do to me. It makes me crazy, makes me fucking mad. I want you, I need you, I need your love and your body so bad. Let me make love to you. Let me hold you and tell you everything you crave hear while I go into your deepest places till I reach that sweet, sweet womb of yours and make you cum over and over on my dick. The same one that you love and cherish with your life." Eren slowly grinds his hips into yours, lips moving down your neck leaving open kisses in their waking.

"Will you let me do that beautiful? Do you permit me to reclaim you over and over again? Tell you I love you? Cum deep into your wet and tight pussy that I love and adore with all my life? Will you?"

Overwhelmed with all the oversensitivity and the burning pit deep in your stomach, you desperately nod your head as you repeat, "Yes... yes, yes, yes. Please~"

<3

"Nah Jaeger, you cheatin' out here." Connie says as Eren puts down a draw four card on the deck in the center of the table.

"No I ain't," he smirks taking a puff of the blunt before passing it onto Armin.

"I'm simply just playing the game Con."

"Cap! Y/n can't be helping you pick out your cards, that's straight bull." Jean points to you settled behind Eren's chair, giggling, eyes red and lidded as you stick your tongue out at him only for him to respond with a playful gasp and clutch chest.

"Oh please, Y/n could do whatever she feels like horseface." Eren quips leaning his head back to wink at you.

"Hey! I don't have a horseface you pigeon." Jean claps back.

Everyone including you burst out in laughter, unable to hold it in being that you all are under the influence.

“Marco, it's your turn.” Connie softly nudged at the man spaced out after putting his card down.

Marco blinks a few times to stop himself before looking at the cards in his hand and selected two number five cards, or what he thought were two six cards.

“Ayo, yo, pick up two fo’ your mistake!” Jean says as he starts to pull out cards for him.

“Huh? How?” he protests.

“Fuck is this?” Armin picks up the yellow six and nine card that he had put down.

“Ohhh.”

“Ohhhhh.” Jean mocked.

“Leave me alone, I'm smacked aight?” Marco explains taking the cards from Jean.

“Uno,” Eren says wiggling his last card in between his fingers.

Armin went a place down and a red draw two, leaning back in his chair with a smile, taking another puff before pasting the blunt to Jean “Uno.”

Eren daps him up telling him ‘that's what's up.’

“How the fuck y'all got Uno already?” Jean takes a hit inhaling picking out his cards and putting them down before passing on the blunt to Connie.

Taking his turn with the blunt and cards, he skipped Marco and Eren pointing to Armin to go.

Eren gives him a death look and shakes his head.

“Hey, it's just how the game is played.” he put his hands up passing the blunt to Marco who was once again spaced out.

“Dude, just go to sleep, Y/n will take over for you.” Connie shakes him back to consciousness.

“Yeah, I'll take ‘em for you.” you smile and take his cards taking his place in the chair before hugging him goodnight.

“Another hit Y/n?”

You nod taking the blunt from Connie and taking a deep inhale of the smoke and holding it before exhaling it out through your nose.

“Ou, he got some good cards,” you say sorting out the cards in your hand before you put down four skips.

“WOW!!” Jean and Connie say in unison.

“That's what we doin’ now beautiful?” Eren looks at you, holding the card to his chin.

“As Connie said before, that's just how the game is played.” you retort sending him a kiss.

“Hey, hey. Don't put me in this.” Connie said.

“I’ma getchu back don't worry.” Eren declares.

“Threat or a promise?” you test him.

“Take it how you wanna beautiful.” he jerks his eyebrow.

“If y’all wanna fuck just say da, damn.” Armin snarky remarks make Jean and Connie fall out of their chairs laughing.

“Shuddup Armin.” you joke laughing along.

Continuing with the game, you place down a reverse card making the rotation go counterclockwise. Connie went and put down a plus two to which Jean added another one. Armin then grinned at them putting down his last card, draw four saying ‘uno out’.

All eyes on Eren he looks back at everyone before looking at you.

“I told you I'll get you back right?”

Without saying more words he placed down a draw four on top of Armin’s. Everyone in the group gasps and ooh’s while they look between you and Eren.

“Pick up eight beautiful.” he says as he caresses your cheek.

You gasp, “Oh my God, noooo.”

“It doesn't work like that baby.” you say as you kiss his hand putting down an additional draw four card making the total 12.

From across you, you heard someone stifle their laugh, snorting in the process. You turn to see Armin with his hand over his mouth face slowly turning red from now breathing. He shakingly points his finger towards Connie’s direction. You turn in confusion and see him with a straight face, looking at the pile of cards.

“Connie…”

Everyone except him and you die of laughter, toppling over. He softly places the cards on the table, scooting his chair out, rising and walking away.

“No, No Connie wait!! I’m sorry!” you try your hardest not to laugh, trailing behind him, slightly stumbling from feeling high. He didn't answer only continuing to walk till he walked to his room, entering and softly closing his door.

“FUCK!!”

Y'all hear him yells at the top of his lungs and you laugh even harder than before. It's probably the hardest that y'all ever laughed in your life. You're laid out on the floor, holding your stomach as tears come out of your eyes and you buffer in place silently laughing. Eren laughing loudly head held back stomping his feet on the floor. Jean once again on the floor also laid out like you, shaking in laughter and he screams out with laughter, having that Windex bottle laugh. Armin jumping in his chair, wheezing and crying once in a while snorting loud as hell.

“Did something happen?” Marco voiced.

He was in front of y'all, rubbing his eyes in his oversized onesie with his blanket wrapped around him. That only made everyone succumb to laughter. Armin fell out of his chair onto the floor, Eren slouched in his chair in an uncomfortable position, Jean face down into the carpet and you on your back in an almost starfish position.

Marco freaks out, runs to each of your sides to check up on you only to be met with snores and soft breathing. Y'all laughed yourselves to sleep, who the fuck does that shit? Being as caring as he is, Marco uses the couch cushions and places them under each of the guy's heads, and covered them with blankets, even leveling Eren’s legs so he could be more comfortable. He picks you off the ground being sure not to wake you up and puts you on the big couch right by Eren covering you with a blanket as well.

He cleans up and puts out the rest of the light blunt in the ashtray and packs up the Uno cards. Turn off the light and whispers goodnight before leaving to his room.

All rights reserved to @erensthottie

Reblogs are allowed

[stardusttkachuk]

take it out on me

Pairing: Nolan Patrick x Fem!Reader Word Count: 2.5k Warnings: smut, Dom!Nolan, spanking, choking, daddy kink, use of the color system, rough sex, unprotected sex, oral (female receiving), fingering, mentions of bruises, fluff, Summary: Nolan comes home from a rough roadie. Y/N suggests he take it out on her like he’s done before, but things are a bit too rough this time and Nolan ends up hurting her, sending him into a panic and promising to do everything and anything to make it better.

Nolan had been having a bad week to begin with, hell a bad season at that. There was talk of him being benched for a game, as he wasn’t producing at all. His last goal came in a shootout, but otherwise, it’d been goose eggs for a while. He had already been moved to the fourth line and he was a mixture of anxious and angry as he left for the most recent roadie.

Losing 0-9, then 1-6 at the end really tipped him off. He came home fuming, disappointed in himself, upset with the team and the tension that was radiating through the locker room the entire time. And tired. The flight was rough. All he wanted was something to eat and then to go to bed.

He was harsh with the apartment door, slamming it upon entering, cussing at himself for slamming it, knowing you’d be on him later for it. He hadn’t even noticed you standing in the kitchen, watching him with pitiful eyes.

Of course, you knew about the season. You knew how he felt about his own performances and the teams as a whole. You knew how stressed out he’d been lately.

“Nolan?” you asked tentatively, watching as he leaned back against the door.

“What?” His voice was harsh, but you could hear the softness laced around it, trying to be calm around you.

“You know the last time you were stressed and...and you took it out on me? We can do that again if you want to.”

“Seriously?” he breathed, almost out of relief. “Baby if you’re down for it, I could really use that.”

You nodded and stepped closer to him, wrapping your arms around his neck and having to stand on your toes to meet his height. “I’m here, I want to.”

“You’ll say red if you need to, right?”

“You know I would,” you said, brushing your hand through his hair, disheveled from what you could only assume was the flight.

“Fuck,” he grunted, grabbing the backs of your thighs and lifting you up, you hooking your legs around his waist.

Nolan’s lips were on yours, blindly finding his way to the bedroom. He kicked the door closed, throwing you down onto the bed, a slight smirk crossing his features as you bounced, finding a comfortable position for yourself. He wasted no time undressing you, tossing the clothes carelessly to the floor.

“Nolan, oh fuck!” You moaned as his tongue lapped at your already soaked center.

“What was that?” He asked, hand colliding with your ass, hard. You whined at the feeling, the loss of him eating you out and now the stinging pain on your bottom.

“Nolan, please?” Your sentence died off as he spanked you again, flipping you over onto your stomach.

“What’s my name?” His question had your thighs shaking. He really must’ve had a bad week. Nolan was usually on the rough side most times, but when he got like this it meant something was really wrong.

“Daddy,” you moaned, gripping onto the pillow. He rolled you back over again, giving you a quick smile before delving back between your thighs. He was quick to lift your legs over his shoulders, gripping your thighs and mouthing at your clit.

“More,” you begged, grabbing his hair and pulling at the brown locks, eliciting a moan from him. He fucked you with his tongue, his thumb flicking your clit and sending you into your first orgasm.

“Fuck, baby. You taste so good,” Nolan hummed, using his shirt to wipe off his chin. Your cheeks reddened at the sight you’d never get used to.

“How many times do you think you can cum tonight, Y/N?” He asked, his middle finger entering you.

You hummed, holding onto his wrist as he fingered you.

“Answer my question,” he demanded, sending butterflies swarming in your stomach.

“F-Four,” you stuttered, and he smirked, adding a second finger and crooking them against your g-spot. You writhed on the bed, mouth hung open in an ‘o’ shape as he pumped his finger in and out of you, his thumb brushing your clit occasionally.

“You really think only four?” He chuckled, one hand now holding your hips down, his eyes focused on your pussy and what his hands were doing to you. “I bet I could get five.”

You moaned at his statement, trying to push your hips up, but failing as he held you down. It wasn’t long before the familiar warmth grew in your stomach, the sounds coming from your lips only urging Nolan to continue, barely even slowing when you released on his fingers. It was only when you began to squirm under his touch that he pulled his fingers out, wiping the excess on his pants.

He unbuttoned his dress shirt throwing it somewhere onto the floor to join your discarded clothing. Nolan laid down on his back, pulling you over his hips, his hard-on visible through the slacks he had on, pushing up against your core.

You raised up on your knees and undid the belt and button of his pants, sliding them, along with his boxer briefs off. Nolan kicked them off his ankles, before grabbing your hips and slamming you down on his cock, the two of you crying out together in pleasure.

“Ride me, baby girl,” he ordered and you rocked your hips against his, bouncing a few times, but it clearly wasn’t enough for Nolan. He began thrusting himself into you, his hands digging into your hips hard as he fucked you. It wouldn’t surprise you if tomorrow you’d find bruises where his fingertips had been.

Nolan’s hand trailed from your hip, up to your rib, stopping to tease your breast, thumbing over your nipple until you were whimpering, before finally coming to stop at the base of your throat. You slowed down for a second to register what was happening, but with one look from Nolan, you knew exactly what he wanted. His hand tightened around your neck and you leaned into it, letting him take control.

“Cum,” he growled, his lips turning upwards into a smile at your choked moan as you came on his cock.

He let go of your throat, checking in with you quickly. “Green,” you said. He didn’t give you long to recover, pushing you face down onto the bed, his hand gripping at your shoulders as he entered you again.

“Scream baby. Want the neighbors to hear you,” he spoke, using your shoulders for leverage as he slammed into you repeatedly.

“Oh my god,” you groaned.

“Who’s fucking you?” he asked.

“Nolan,” you moaned, your breath hitching when he thrust into you harder.

“Who?”

“Daddy!” you cried.

“Good girl,” Nolan grinned and pulled out of you. “On your back,” he grunted, roughly helping you flip over. You were starting to get tired, but nowhere near your end, still willing to be there for him. You could tell the anger was beginning to fade, but he was still in his role, not ready to give it up yet.

He slammed back into you and you arched up, screaming out his name as he pounded into you. His hand rested around your throat once more and you swallowed hard, catching his eye and nodding, a silent message that meant he could do it. His grip tightened, just slightly again at first, enough for you to feel it but not enough to hurt. You moaned, closing your eyes tightly.

Gradually, he tightened his hold around your throat. The harder he fucked you, the harder his grip became, much tighter than the first time. You watched the pleasure on his face as he chased his high but you realized he was no longer paying attention, or caring how hard he was choking you.

It was getting to be too much, your airway being cut off and the feeling of his fingers squeezing against your skin starting to cause pain. “Yellow,” you rasped, grabbing his arm to try to get him to back off. The pressure on your throat immediately faded and Nolan tore his hand away, his movements stilling as he met your eyes.

“Fuck. Y/N, are you okay?” He asked, cupping your cheek with one hand as he held himself up with the other. “Shit. I’m so sorry. You okay?” he questioned again.

You nodded, taking in a deep breath. “I’m okay,” you assured. “Keep going, please?”

Nolan kissed your forehead gently, his thumb caressing your cheek. “Are you sure? We can stop, baby, it’s okay.”

“I know. I want to. Want you to cum with me, okay?”

“Fuck. Yeah. Okay,” he nodded, his hips snapping to meet yours again. He leaned down, kissing your jaw. It was slow, no longer rough but still hard enough to bring you both to the edge and falling over it, cumming together. It was closer to making love than letting him fuck his anger out with you. Nolan spoke a few apologies in your ear, you assuring him again that you were okay as you carded your fingers through his hair and you both fell out of your roles.

You were still hurting though and Nolan could tell. He carefully lifted you from the bed, carrying you down to his bathroom and starting a hot bath. He helped you get cleaned up, trying not to stare at the redness that was present on your neck.

“I’m sorry, baby,” he said once more and you frowned, leaning over the edge of the tub to kiss him.

“I’m okay, Nols. Are you?”

He nodded, taking a deep breath. “I feel better. Thank you.” He kissed your forehead, dipping his hand into the water and gently splashing it onto your back. “I love you. I needed that.”

“I know you did,” you giggled.

“You promise you’re okay?”

“Tired. But you didn’t hurt me, I promise I’m fine.”

He nodded again, finally taking your word. “Ready for bed?”

“Carry me?” you asked, lifting your arms up to him which made him chuckle. He helped you out of the bath, wrapping a towel around you as he sat you on the counter. He dried you off, being extra careful when it came to your hips and your neck, gently patting those areas dry.

You fell asleep quickly, underneath the warm sheets, and curled up against Nolan’s torso, your head on his chest with his fingers gently rubbing your back, the sound of his heartbeat a soothing lullaby in your ear.

--

Nolan’s stomach sank the next morning. He woke up before you did, his smile wide when you were still in the same position you had fallen asleep in, but his eyes drifted to your neck; the red spot that was there last night had now turned into a reddish-purple bruise and he couldn’t take his eyes off of it. He had done that to you. He hurt you.

He felt like he was going to throw up as panic set in, wondering how on earth he was going to make it up to you, how he was going to prove that he never meant to hurt you and that he would never hurt you. It was one thing for you to have bruises on your hips or thighs, but this was your neck, a place that everybody was going to see and those bruises were there because he got too carried away last night.

He slipped out of bed quietly, thankful that his movements hadn’t woken you up. It was still early and he knew you needed the sleep. It wasn’t worth it to wake you up, so instead, he left a note on the nightstand, dressing comfortably before leaving his apartment, skipping breakfast entirely as he drove to the nearest drugstore.

Nolan got a few stares as he stood in the makeup section, reading off labels and trying to decide which brand was the best brand when to him they all looked the same. He’d watched you do your makeup hundreds of times but none of this stuff looked like the same things you had.

Nolan settled on two different types of foundations that were two different brands, three concealers, a container of setting powder and a foundation that was in powder form and not liquid form like the other two. He also found a color correcting concealer, throwing that into his basket as well.

He chose to go through the self-checkout lane, still panicky from this morning and wanting to avoid any looks from one of the checkout ladies. They were older and he was sure they didn’t know who he was, but he didn’t want to draw attention to himself in case they did know.

He really hoped to still find you asleep when he got home, but when the smell of coffee filled his nose as he stepped into the apartment, he knew you were awake and moving. “Baby?” he called, footsteps soft on the wood floor, the plastic bag rustling as he walked.

He found you in the bathroom wearing one of his shirts, stood in front of the mirror. He frowned, a sigh escaping his lips. “I’m so sorry, Y/N. I-I didn’t mean to hurt you. You know I would never hurt you.”

“I know, Nolan. You didn’t hurt me.”

“But, I did. Fuck. You-You had to tell me to slow down, you’ve never had to do that before,” he worried, setting the bag on the bathroom counter.

“But you didn’t hurt me,” you reassured, resting your hands against his chest. “You backed off when I told you to. And you made sure that I was okay. If you had done something seriously wrong, you know I’d tell you.”

“I know. I’m sorry. I just… I love you so much and I didn’t mean to take it that far last night. Just with everything going on and I kept it all bottled up, I-I’m sorry.”

“I know you are, love. But I’m okay. Promise.” You kissed his cheek softly, letting him pull you into a tight hug and hold you for a little while. “What’s in the bag?” you spoke up, turning your head to look at him.

Nolan chuckled, pulling out the different makeup items he had bought. “Just in case you needed something to cover it up with. I didn’t really know what to get, so I got a few different brands and different types of products, hopefully, it works.”

You laughed, kissing him quickly. “Thank you, baby.”

“I can make breakfast. Any requests?”

You hummed, “Pancakes?”

“Comin’ right up.”

“Can we have breakfast in bed?”

“Of course. You finish up what you need to do in here and I will be right up with pancakes.” Nolan pulled you into another hug, resting his cheek on your shoulder, his lips gliding along your neck and jaw, making you giggle at the soft and tickling feeling.

“Hey Nol!” you called after him as he left, peeking your head out the bathroom door and catching him before he made it to the kitchen.

Nolan turned to you with a smile. “Yeah?”

“I love you.”

His smile widened. “I love you too.”

Tags: @merchantjjreply @blueeyedbesson @obxmxybxnk @thedemonsimpofcamphalfblood @brebear121 @stars-canucks @sidscrosbyy

[maddiewritesstucky]

Snare Me His Shadow

Pairing: Steve/Bucky

Rating: Explicit 18+

Words: 4.5k

Tags: Primal Play, Prey/Predator Kink, Fighting As Foreplay, Rough Sex, Biting, Choking, Dom/Sub Undertones, Come Swapping, Anal Sex, Overstimulation, Fucking Outdoors, Storm Sex, Poetry As An Aphrodisiac, R18 Hide And Seek

So a million years ago, @howdoyousleep3 passed on an ask from her inbox that read:

[I dont know if you’re familiar with primal play, but it’s so fucking hot. Yeah, I know, Steve is all muscle and ability, he’s strong he’s fast, he’s smart, he is not prey. Usually. But Bucky - the winter soldier - is a hunter. The best, in fact. He loves a good hunt]

...This one possessed me. Please heed the tags, this is an entirely consensual and agreed-upon game between Steve and Bucky, but it is very much a hunter/prey type situation 😈

It’s electric, like this.

Barefoot on the damp earth, navigating by muscle memory more than sight, because darkness settles that much denser beneath the tree canopy.

Steve could move faster, could take this barely-worn path through the woods behind the compound at a sprint. But fast is loud. 

Fast is leaves cracking and branches splintering, and the muted thud of footfalls on the forest floor. It’s eyes fixed only ahead so you don’t stumble, and nothing but the sound of your own exhales in your ears.

‘Fast’ gets you caught. 

The in-rolling storm crackles humid in the air, sparking against Steve’s skin as he weaves through the underbrush. He throws his every sense outwards, searching and sifting through those faint currents of movement around him, those quiet signs of life. But it’s all life out here; birds and insects and creatures who can’t bear the light, all just playing the same game he is, and every last one of them pricks at his awareness. 

Every last one of them kicks at his pulse and drip-feeds new adrenaline into his bloodstream, because experience echoes a warning way down in his cells - the apex predator comes silent as a spider. 

There’s so many eyes on him, the weight of being watched pressing down on him from all sides. He digs the heel of his hand into his arousal and pulls in a lungful of air on the cusp of rain; feels himself splintering between his warring desires to put up a worthy chase, and to drop down belly-up in the dirt.

It’s a choice that will be made for him, eventually. 

He might be strength, and speed, and strategy. But out here, he is prey. 

Out here, in these weeping woods that stretch endless into the night, Steve is achingly, exquisitely outmatched by the hunter who lies in wait; biding his time, unseen, and slipping ever closer. 

Dressed in black from head to toe, or skin bared to the shivering pulses of the forest; empty handed, or palms laden with the urge to grab and pin and possess…

The Winter Soldier is out there, and Steve’s blood runs so much hotter for the knowledge that he won’t see or hear or feel him coming until it’s too late. 

He winds his way amongst the weathered trunks, hugging the shadows and pawing at the lines of his own body; stroking his thighs and pulling at his nipples, raking fingernails over the bare skin of his stomach. It’s rough and absent and frantic all at once, a weak precursor to what he’s evading.

The dissonance of it is dizzying, hiding from the thing he wants most. He wants to cry out, to make for the clearing in the middle of the woods and sprawl shameless in the open until he’s found, but he knows the rules - run, hide, don’t make it easy.

Pursuit is the purpose, and capture is a pleasure that must be earned, no matter how raw his skin is screaming for touch. And it is screaming - he’s a copper wire stripped bare, and he shivers for every stinging snap of branch and damp drag of leaf against his body as he picks his way through the darkness. 

Hard limits apply, he’d told Bucky, the rest is up to you. 

He shudders for it now, those words and the way Bucky’s eyes had darkened for them; the way he’d leaned in to kiss his sugar-laced threat right onto Steve’s waiting lips - I will find you.

It’s only a matter of time. The forest is vast, and countless months have passed since they last played this game, but Bucky is a blade that never dulls. 

Bucky is razor-sharp, in wit, beauty, and battle; made up of midnight and silent strides when he so chooses, and he will find Steve. 

He might have had eyes on Steve this entire time; ten soundless steps behind, watching Steve’s slow descent into desperation with a smile on his face, and the mere possibility has Steve’s cock weeping through the thin fabric of his shorts. 

His fingertips dip beneath his waistband and sweep through the wetness beading at his tip; stroke that sensitive spot just beneath the head. His palm slips to press at the heavy throb in his balls and it makes his breath catch too loud in the confines of his chest, has a moan slipping out past his gritted teeth. 

He knows it’s foolish, knows he’s only making himself easier to track. But every step he takes is winding the hunt toward its inevitable climax, and intellect is giving way to instinct. 

His consciousness is beginning that steady downward drip, sinking from logic and reason to settle and swim with the dense heat pooling at the base of his spine. Soon, he’ll be nothing more than the urge rippling under his skin, the tight-squeezed air in his lungs and the thrum of blood between his thighs, and every brush of his own hands is permission to slip a little further to it. 

So he doesn’t stop. 

His feet and his fingers keep moving; his body acting now on his mind’s behalf to draw towards the river's edge, where his desperate sounds will be swept away by the unending rush of water over rock, because this is about preservation now.

It’s about surviving the voracity of his own need until he is found, until Bucky catches him, and then…god, then...

The rest is up to you.

The beginning of rainfall winds its way down through the tree canopy, and it does nothing to quell the heat radiating off Steve. He’s burning so hot for this, so hungry for it; his need only growing sharper as the atmosphere curls in thick and charged with the promise of thunder. 

It’s rumbling in the distance already, too faint for non-enhanced ears but creeping closer; a rolling bass beneath the surge of the fast flowing river up ahead. He can see the diluted black of open space through the trees now, can hear the clack of wet-tumbling stones, and it’s nothing short of delusion, the way it feels like he’s headed for sanctuary. 

Logic knows it’s a weak veil of auditory cover at best, and an outright plea for ambush at worst.

Steve knows, down in his gut, exactly which one he’s hoping for, and he sprints for it with the last of his tactical thought seeping out through the soles of his feet. 

He breaks through the tree line, hitching a gasp as he stumbles out into the full force of the downpour. It’s coming down heavy, sluicing at the fever-sweat clinging to his skin, and he tilts his face up towards it; lets his eyes drift shut and his shoulders drop as he bares his throat to the purple-black sky. 

His pulse riots for the sheer abandon of the gesture, of shifting his posture to one of invitation in the midst of evasion. It only spurs him on, makes him want to find out just how shrill that siren in his cells will wail when he refuses to curl in on himself. 

He forces his hands open at his sides, turns his palms outwards and walks further out onto the exposed riverbank. He stands ankle deep in the river with his heart in his throat, soaked to the bone and all but shaking with the desire to drop to his knees in submission.

And that’s when he hears it. 

The slow-whistled high note, followed by a low; the signal that shivers from the top of Steve’s spine to the cradle of his hips.

Found you. 

It’s a question as much as a warning, that signal; a chance for Steve to respond in their shared language of gesture whether he wants the chase, or the fight. 

As if he hadn’t made up his mind the moment they agreed to play tonight.

As if he’s not done for either way. 

He pulls in a shuddering breath, his skin prickling with the presence he can sense now off to his left. Survival instinct begs him to open his eyes, to scour his surroundings and prepare for what’s coming, but he only shuts them tighter. 

He grins up at the pelting rain, curls his quivering right hand into a fist, and beats it against his drenched, heaving chest.

Take me down where I stand. 

Thunder rumbles overhead and shakes the stones underfoot. Steve’s blood beats frantic in his ears, one heartbeat stumbling over the next, and he waits, waits for the blow he doesn’t want to see coming.

A foot to the back of his knees, an arm wrapped around his throat, a strike of unyielding metal between his shoulder blades...it’s never the same twice, and it’s always better than the time before, and he can’t stop the desperate whimper that falls from his parted, rain-slick lips.

“Bucky!” he pleads, hurling it into the current of the storm raging around him.

“Steve,” comes the answer from directly behind him; the word falling across his skin in the split second before teeth sink deep into the meat of his shoulder.

It’s nothing short of wanton, the way Steve cries out with it. 

Five fingers curl a punishing grip around the column of his throat and a soaking wet body plasters against his back, and Steve doesn’t even try to hold his centre of gravity as he’s wrestled down to the riverbank.

It’s a messy takedown, raw force over skill; dripping all the same desperation that’s been twisting hot in Steve’s gut all night. Bucky pins him belly-down against the stones at the river’s edge, the full weight of his body draped over him, and Steve knows the tremor he can feel humming through Bucky’s muscles has nothing to do with the cold.

“The river,” Bucky growls; metal forearm jammed against the back of Steve's neck, “of course you came to the river.”

Steve squirms giddy beneath Bucky’s mass, beneath that deep-thrumming power crushing down on him. 

The storm-swollen current reaches up the bank to wash shallow and frigid beneath Steve’s cheek, his chest; against his nipples and his thighs and his cock inside his drenched shorts. It’s cold enough to draw gooseflesh across the bared expanse of his skin, but fuck if that persistent rush doesn’t feel like getting tongued; like every single time Bucky’s ever slipped an ice cube in his mouth and sucked him off just to see him hit the ceiling. 

“Buck...” 

It’s the only word that makes sense anymore. Steve gets his elbows under himself and pushes his body up, but only so much as to feel the stifling weight of Bucky on top of him. 

Bucky’s hand slips to the front of his throat and grips him tight up under the line of his jaw; tips his head back to get his lips and teeth pressed hard against Steve’s ear.

“Steven...did you even try?” 

The rain and the river aren’t enough to sweep away the mockery in his tone. He’s shifting himself on top of Steve, putting scant inches of space between their bodies, and Steve knows this cue; grins bright and breathless for it.

He digs his hands in against the riverbed, plants his knees and shoves upwards. He heaves his weight forward and Bucky’s grip loosens just enough to let it happen, to let Steve crawl and clamber a few meager feet forwards.

Steve knows it’s a false freedom but he laughs half-hysterical for it anyway, and even more so when Bucky’s hands are catching him again, clamping bruising tight at his hips and grappling him onto the flat of his back. 

He winces at the battering strike of rain against his face, but it’s just as soon blocked by the cover of Bucky caging him in; replaced by the tepid drips rolling off Bucky’s perpetually warm skin. 

Steve’s body reacts the way it thinks it’s supposed to, going through the motions of trying to throw Bucky off - strength funneled into a forearm arm pressing here, a knee striking there. But it’s pointless; sabotaged by the underlying truth that the only place Steve really wants to be is stuck exactly where he finds himself - pinned pliant beneath his predator.

He lets himself look, then; lets his gaze slip down between them to drag over the length of Bucky’s body. He’s bared to the elements just the same as Steve - not a stitch on him save for running shorts that barely hit at mid-thigh. His hair is pulled back, and he’s soaked to the bone, and when lightning splits the darkness in two and catches on the angles of his face, that raw perilous beauty strikes a blow all of its own to the center of Steve’s chest.

“You win,” Steve rasps, dragging his voice up from the pit of his billowing lungs.

Bucky’s answering laugh is darker than the wet-ink midnight pressing in on them, and it shudders all the way to Steve’s bones when Bucky sinks down to purr ominous against the vulnerable stretch of his neck.

“Not yet, I haven’t.”

The ravenous clamp of teeth on his throat sends Steve’s body bowing, writhing for that merciless bite that doesn’t break the skin, but makes purpled ruin of what lies beneath. Fascia and blood vessels and Steve’s sanity, all broken down in the transcendent grind of Bucky’s jaw, the heat of his mouth; all over Steve’s neck and his chest and his belly, and it’s so feral, the way Steve wants it. 

He wants the shred of busted stitching and the shock of rain against newly bared skin as his shorts are torn from his body.

He wants the red welts raked down his rib cage, the kiss-split lip and the deep set imprints of Bucky’s teeth all up the insides of his thighs. 

Bucky’s touch is heavy and he means it to be; his shifting, squeezing grip claiming handfuls of Steve’s willing flesh wherever he can get it. And he can get it everywhere - every last inch of Steve’s body splayed out for him in tribute to his prowess, and Steve wants him to take it. 

He wants Bucky to make sacrilege of it out here under the split-open skies, until it feels like heaven itself is sobbing for it. 

“Fuck me,” ruin me, desecrate me, arch-backed and bleeding-lipped in the dirt, “Bucky, fuck me…” 

Steve begs with all of himself, legs split and arms thrown above his head; dripping sweat and storm and half-crazed surrender. Like he actually has to plead for this, like Bucky’s not already stuffing searching fingers up between his cheeks to grope for the base-end of silicone that says Steve’s body is primed for the taking.

Bucky bites taunting denial into his skin, over and over. ‘No,’ even as he pulls the plug from Steve’s body and replaces it with his fingers. ‘No’ growled against Steve’s body every time he begs now, and please, and I’m ready, just to fray that tenuous thread of Steve’s resolve. 

Steve’s delirious with it, crying out high and sharp for the stretch of cold metal inside him and the drip of remnant lube. He chants Bucky’s name and reaches out with clinging, clawing hands that only get batted away; that get caught at the wrists and pinned down, and Bucky’s laughing at him. 

Bucky is toying with him, leaving him empty and climbing back up over his body to graze teeth over Steve’s cheekbones, to whisper sweet mockery against Steve’s lips before he kisses them bruising-hard.

“Tell me you want it,” Bucky coos, clamping his hand over Steve’s mouth and pushing the clothed head of his cock up against Steve’s hole. 

Steve sobs against his palm. He forces the words out wet and incomprehensible onto Bucky’s skin; again and again as Bucky tuts and tells him to speak the fuck up. 

Tears are streaming free from the corners of his eyes and his legs are hooking desperately around Bucky’s waist, and he knows that Bucky wants this just as bad. He can feel Bucky shaking and shuddering under the strain of holding back and holding out, trying to push Steve closer to his breaking point just because that’s what Steve wants; devotion at its most deranged.

“Don’t cry, baby,” Bucky laps at the tears tracking down Steve’s face, letting up his hand from Steve’s mouth only to settle it heavy on his throat. 

He slips his other hand down between them to shove at his shorts, fighting the clinging fabric down far enough to get his cock free, and then they’re both groaning for the rub of naked skin on skin. 

“Buck,” Steve chokes out a half-strangled cry as Bucky sinks his whole weight onto him, dragging his stomach over Steve’s weeping cock and rocking his own into the crease of Steve’s hip. 

“Tell me you want it?” Bucky says again, a question this time instead of a taunt. 

Steve’s rasp of yes, fuck, do it barely makes it past his lips before Bucky’s cock is pushing into him.

There’s no hesitance, no pretense of patience to it. Bucky doesn’t finesse it and Steve doesn’t want him to - he didn’t spend half the night skulking through the woods in the middle of a fucking thunderstorm just to get taken the way he would be in the sanctity of their bed.

Steve came out here to get fucked vicious, and Bucky knows better than to pull his punches.

He shoves brutal and punishing into the tight heat of Steve’s body, knocking the air from Steve’s lungs and the sense from his psyche. 

He’s tucking words up against Steve’s ear, something lilting and familiar, and the roar of Steve’s own blood and the groaning sky above don’t drown out Bucky’s voice so much as darken it’s edges; slip a rumbling bass beneath it’s baritone. Steve loses himself in the well-worn rhythm long before the words catch up to sink hooks into his ribcage.

“O Hunter, snare me his shadow,” Bucky hums, “O Nightingale, catch me his strain…else moonstruck with music and madness...I track him in vain.”

Steve would weep, if he had it in him to do anything other than lay there flat on his back and take it. 

Bucky grinds in blinding-deep and stays there, rocks there; drips poetry all over the side of Steve’s neck like he’s not fucking him fit to kill.

He squeezes Steve’s throat until his eyes roll back, swats at Steve’s cheek and pulls merciless on his hair. He stuffs fingers into Steve’s gaping mouth deep enough to gag on, and hinges Steve’s jaw open so he has no choice but to set loose every raw, wrecked sound Bucky knocks out of him. 

It’s fucking flawless.

“Give me one,” Bucky growls. 

Steve needs no clarification beyond the spearing of Bucky’s cock into his prostate, and he reaches down between their bodies to jerk himself frantic and heavy-handed. 

It should be pitiful, how little it takes. But it’s been mounting for what feels like hours, and when Bucky wrenches himself abruptly from Steve’s body to slap a hand down square over Steve’s balls and his slick, aching asshole, that orgasm crests with near-painful force.

“Fuck!” Steve’s wracked with it, shuddering and flinching from it like it’s not the makings of his very own flesh and blood. 

Bucky doesn’t even wait for it to be over before he’s dipping down to lap at it; rubbing his cheek and his chest and his belly through Steve’s release on his slow crawl back up to spit it into Steve’s mouth.

“Don’t you fuckin’ swallow it,” he warns, pressing his thumb to the seam of Steve’s lips, “I want it back.” 

Steve’s body is sparking chaotic, crying too soon and too much just as loud as it’s screaming too good as Bucky grips him by his sodden hair and buries his cock back inside him; falling into rhythm like he never stopped thrusting in the first place.

He wants to moan, wants to cry out for that welcome knifepoint of forced pleasure building within him, but the desperate sounds creeping onto his tongue are every bit as caged as the come he can’t swallow. 

Which is the whole point, Steve flushes submissive to realize - Bucky’s got him gagged without even touching him. 

He twines his limbs up around Bucky’s body, groping and pulling at him like there’s still an insufferable distance left to close. The guttural moans Bucky’s spilling into the crook of his neck only render Steve’s own noises even more pathetic; huffing high and reedy the longer they remain trapped in his throat. 

“Christ, listen to you...”

Bucky pushes up onto his elbows to stare down at Steve, to watch the play of desperation on his face. 

He’s no less transparent himself in how affected he is, a lifetime of ceaseless want spelled out in his gaze; hunger and rapture and the kind of adoration Steve doesn’t think he’ll ever fully earn, not really.

But it’s all right there, in the way Bucky’s looking at him; the way he’s bearing the howling force of the storm against his back just to give Steve this, and Steve is sunk.

Steve is nothing more than the sweet ruin of his body and the near painful swell of his heart for the multitudes that Bucky contains. A death sentence if you ask the history books and still the better half of Steve’s soul, Bucky is the boundless shadow and blinding light of Steve’s entire existence; his every reason for being and doing and fucking trying, after all these years. 

It would be terrifying, if Steve weren’t bone-deep certain that he’s the axis Bucky’s world spins on, too.

“You found me...” 

The words are almost a sob hitching off Steve’s tongue, pitched fuck-drunk and slurred around his mouthful of himself. 

He’s breaking the rules and he knows it; half hopes for the crack of an open palm against his cheek for it. But the look Bucky hits him with lands harder than any physical strike could hope to; taking Steve’s face firm between his hands and staring down at him like there’s never been a truth so vital, so dire.

“I will always find you, Steve.” 

And that’s just it, isn’t it? The one thing their shared existence will always narrow down to. There’s nowhere either of them could go that the other wouldn’t tear the world apart to get to, and the scant inches of distance between them right now might as well be oceans for all Steve’s burning inside to cross them. 

He cups his hands around Bucky’s neck and arches up, pulls him down; pleading with everything but words for Bucky’s mouth on his, and Bucky doesn’t make him wait. He meets Steve right there in the delirium with lips and tongue and moans that rival the swelling thunder; sucking the taste of Steve off his tongue and dripping a starved groan into his mouth in its place.

“I wanna make you come,” he says, like he hasn’t already dragged one out of him, “tell me you’re gonna come.” 

“Fuck, I am, I’m gonna come...” 

“Say it’s for me, Steve, tell me it’s mine.” 

Steve nods so hard, he can feel a bruise bloom at the base of his skull where it grates against the riverstone. Of course it’s for Bucky, everything’s for Bucky; every breath in his lungs and every beat of his stricken, obsessed heart. The sensations within him are mounting too immense, too desperate to be named pleasure, but they’re careening all the same towards the one thing Bucky wants from him, and it will only ever be Bucky’s, this perfect agony of coming undone.

“It’s yours,” he sobs, voice weak and body shaking. "Just—fuckin’ take it from me, Buck.”

He gives up all conscious hold on himself; submits entirely to the relentless drag of Bucky’s dick against his insides and the wet rasp of rock against his back as Bucky drives deep into his surrendered body, chasing that climax for the both of them.

It burns so bright, when it hits Steve; wrenched from his core and rolling sharp through the splay of his trembling frame. He cries out with it, but the storm cries louder, Bucky cries louder; moving ceaselessly through the spasms of Steve’s orgasm and drowning in the give of Steve’s body beneath him. 

“Fuck, Steve, I—” 

“Do it,” Steve slurs, needing nothing more than the tell-tale shudder of Bucky’s body and the way he gasps Steve’s name like a warning. “In me, Buck. Do it.” 

Bucky cusses sharp, pulsing his hips as he lets go inside Steve like he can bury that seed deep enough to stick. And fuck, Steve wants it to. It’s all raw nerve on the inside but Steve never wants this to end; possessed by the slick grind of Bucky’s twitching cock and the heaving half-moans of Bucky’s breath. 

“Don’t stop,” he pleads, reaching fingertips down to where their bodies are joined, where Bucky’s stuffed into him and leaking out of him. “Keep fucking me, just—just keep—” 

Keep coming. 

Be that monstrous entity in the woods who fucks me like it’s a haunting, ’til not even an exorcism would rid me of you. 

He prods at the stretch of his swollen rim, drags his fingers through the warmth seeping out around Bucky’s cock. He wants it everywhere; brings those slick fingers up to smear over the pulse point on his neck, down the line of his throat, and Bucky heaves a moan dragged right from the marrow of his bones. 

“I won’t stop,” he grits out through clattering teeth, rocking into Steve graceless and starving. “Not gonna stop, Steve.”

It sounds as much like threat as it does promise. 

They’re both quaking with it, overstimulated and frigid cold and too achingly, crushingly lost in each other. For all the serum may have made them both to defy science and probability, to withstand war and stall the ravages of aging, it still couldn’t create a vessel vast enough to contain this - this raw, insatiable need for one another. 

“Bucky…” 

Steve looks up from the flat of his back; tips his head to offer up the stretch of his throat as he offers up a tremulous verse — a challenge — into the space between them. 

“The woods are lovely, dark and deep...” 

Recognition sparks dark and joyous in Bucky’s gaze. He catches Steve’s hands in his and threads their fingers together, palm against palm in a too-tight grip.

“But I have promises to keep,” he grins, “and miles to go before I sleep…” 

His lips are turning up wolfish; the roll of his hips turning to something liquid and long-haul, and the rain beats down just as violent as it ever did. 

Steve lets his eyes slip closed, lets the final refrain slip from his tongue before he surrenders, smiling, to the slow closing of Bucky’s teeth around his windpipe.

“...And miles to go before I sleep.” 

If you’re at all curious, the poems they quote are ‘In The Forest’ by Oscar Wilde, and ‘Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening’ by Robert Frost 😘

[mandoalorian]

Like Father, Like Daughter [Maxwell Lord x F!Reader]

Summary: A 4 a.m. fiasco in which your newborn daughter wakes up the entire Lord homestead.

Word Count: 2800>

Rating: PG

Warnings: none! Tooth rotting fluff. Just a newborn baby that won’t settle, a big brother who wants to protect his younger sibling at all costs, and pure familial love. ALSO LADY LORD THE CAT MAKES A RETURN… She's the real trouble maker of the family.

Author’s note: This is SO self indulgent. I cannot stress that enough. I was clearing out my ask inbox and one of the most common requests I get is a) more Lord family and b) more Soft!Max... so here we are.

Masterlist

-—-—-—♡—-—-—-

No matter what, she just didn’t settle. It was three in the morning and you’d put her back down to bed only twenty minutes ago. Just as you managed to close your eyes and feel yourself begin to fall back to sleep, her cries erupted once more and echoed throughout the house. You had no idea how Maxwell could sleep through it. He was a heavy sleeper, and although he made you promise to wake him when you needed him to take over with the newborn, you couldn’t bear to. He was so busy with work and his career, the last thing he needed was to be up all night with little Aurora.

In practically every way possible, Aurora Lorenzano was like her father. It was funny, really. She was only three weeks old but you could already see the same mannerisms in her, that you did Max. She made a habit of shaking her fists or pointing her little tiny finger at you when she wanted something. She was loud, always wanting to make her voice heard. Her big brown eyes sparkled like starlight and you always wondered how you managed to create something so beautiful. She was a product of you and Maxwell and you swore that you had never loved anything as much as you loved her.

You rolled over and groaned into your pillow as you heard her scream with anguish. You were exhausted, and completely at a loss. You’d held her, fed her, changed her diaper -- what more could she want? You couldn’t remember the last time you got more than an hours worth of sleep, and even then it was broken up into intervals. You looked over at Max who was sleeping next to you, his chest rising and falling with every soft breath he took. And you envied him. This was ridiculous. Just for once you wanted to sleep. Just once.

“Max,” you said, prodding your index finger into his bicep. He didn’t move an inch. “Max,” you said again, a little louder this time, but even Aurora’s wails were overpowering the sound of your voice. You said his name a few more times but he didn’t even stir.

You sighed, climbing on top of your boyfriend and straddling his hips. You leaned over him and clasped his cheeks, squeezing them together. “Maxwell Lord!” you shouted in his face, and watched as his eyes snapped open and he bolted upright. His sudden movement knocked you backwards slightly but you couldn’t help but laugh at the way you had shocked him into waking up.

“What the hell are you doing?” He hissed, rubbing his tired eyes and shooting you a joking glare. “Why are you on top of me?” His gaze flicked from your face, down to your body, and his confused glance turning into something a little more sultry. He snaked his arms around your waist and gave your hip a playful squeeze. “You do know Aurora is crying, don’t you?” he quizzed, with an eyebrow quirked. You had to hold back from punching him.

“I know she’s crying, dumbass,” you spat back, rolling off Max and dramatically throwing the pillow over your face. “Please, please can you check on her? She’s fine. I know she’s fine. I’ve checked on her five times already tonight. But she just-- she won’t stop-- and I don’t--”

Sensing the way you were getting worked up, Max tore the pillow from your face and shushed you. He pressed a soft yet chaste kiss to your forehead. “Say no more, I’m on it.” he whispered, rolling out of bed.

You watched Max grab his robe and shuffle into his slippers as he padded out of your shared bedroom. Well, you were awake now. You sighed and closed your eyes, hoping that maybe, just maybe, you could earn a few more hours of deserved sleep.

Maxwell flicked on the amber night light in Aurora’s nursery, the dim embers burning bright enough to force Max adjust his eyesight in the darkness. “Hey hey baby girl,” he cooed, rubbing his tired eyes again and running a hand through his dark blonde hair. He peered over the side of the crib and his heart ached when he caught sight of his daughter, all snotty and teary eyed. “What are you crying for, huh? Why is my little princess crying?” he asked Aurora, using his thumb to wipe away some of her tears. She sniffled slightly, her eyes fixating on her father. “Tell daddy what’s wrong, and I promise you I’ll fix it. What do you need, hm?”

You could hear Maxwell talking to Aurora, ever so faintly. His voice always soothed you, so it wasn’t that much of a surprise to find it settling her as well. You smiled to yourself, counting your blessings. You had gotten so lucky with your little family.

Aurora made grabby fists and reached out to Maxwell, her big eyes glimmering with desire.

“Oh,” Maxwell hummed, catching her message almost immediately. He reached into the crib and picked up Aurora, nursing her in his warm arms. “You wanted to be held by daddy. Well, why didn’t you just say so?”

Aurora scowled and Max pinched her cheek. “Listen to me, my little princess. Your mommy does everything in her power to take care of you and protect you. We love you so much, but, you keep her awake all night. So let’s make a deal, okay Aurora? Let’s agree that from now on, you only wake up mommy once a night. If that. Can you do that for me?”

Aurora’s scowl deepened and she furrowed her eyebrows together.

“Don’t pull faces at me, young lady,” Maxwell chastised. Aurora’s face softened and she squeezed Max’s thumb. He couldn’t help but smile. “Okay, good. I knew you’d understand. See, me and you are on the same wavelength. We get each other.”

Aurora’s lips curled into a smile that matched her father’s, and Max continued to smooth out her hair. You had overheard that part of the conversation, and you wished that you could’ve only been there to witness the interaction. Maxwell made a habit of talking ‘business’ with Aurora. It was funny, but in a strange way, it was like she understood him.

Now that the crying had stopped, you figured you could at least try and fall asleep.

“Daddy?”

Maxwell crooked his head slightly and looked over at the nursery door, where his six year old son, Alistair was standing. “Hey buddy,” Maxwell said quietly, ushering Alistair to come over. “Why are you awake?”

“Aurora was crying,” Alistair mumbled, dragging his comfort blanket and one of his soft toys further into the nursery. “I brought her my comforter and my Ewok.”

“Your what--?” Maxwell asked, furrowing his eyebrows together.

“My Ewok.” Alistair repeated, offering no further explanation.

“Well Ali, that’s very thoughtful. Why don’t you put your… Ewok in her crib, and pass me your comforter. We can wrap her in it,” Maxwell instructed, and Alistair obliged. “Why don’t you wrap the blanket around her, hm? But be careful.”

Max lifted up Aurora ever so slightly so Alistair could fit the blanket around her tiny body. “I think she likes it.” Alistair grinned, completely chuffed with himself, and Max nodded his head in affirmation.

“She does,” he smiled, squeezing his son’s shoulder so he knew that his father was proud. “Now she knows her big brother will always look out for her.”

“I will daddy, I promise.”

The two boys spent a few minutes in comfortable silence, gushing and fussing over Aurora.

“Why was sissy crying? Is she alright?” Alistair pondered out loud, the concern clear in his voice.

“Yeah, of course, she’s fine. Look, sometimes we just need to be held. We just need to know that there’s someone out there watching over us. And that everything will be okay.” Max said softly, tracing his finger along Aurora’s delicate face. Alistair stayed quiet for a moment as he took in his father’s words. That feeling resonated with Alistair all too well. He knew what it felt like to yearn for the attention of a parent. And Maxwell understood it too. He had an awful relationship with his own father, which is why he swore to be the absolute best for his son and daughter. “Ali, could you do me a favour?” Max questioned, eventually breaking the silence.

“Yes.”

“Could you quietly go check on mommy and see if she’s sleeping?”

Alistair nodded and tip-toed out of the nursery and into your bedroom. Low and behold, you were finally sleeping. Alistair got a little too close to you, and pushed your hair out of your face so he could check to see if your eyes were closed. His brash movement (even though he’d tried his hardest to be gentle) woke you up. Alistair gasped when he saw what he’d done and smacked his hand over his mouth in disbelief.

“Oh no, were you asleep?” Alistair questioned, his dark eyes going wide. You yawned and nodded your head. “Did I wake you?”

You offered him a tired smile and pulled him into the bed so he could curl up next to you. “It’s okay Ali. Did Aurora wake you up too?”

“Yeah.” Alistair mumbled tiredly, nuzzling into your chest for comfort. He was immediately put at ease in your arms.

He’d never had a relationship like this with his biological mother, no matter how much he’d wished for it. But now he finally had you. You loved Alistair like he was your own blood and you treated him as your own since day one. You loved him unconditionally, just as much as you loved Aurora. Alistair was so thankful to have someone like you in his life and your bond with him was unbreakable. Maybe wishes could come true.

“She’s a little trouble maker.” you yawned and Alistair stifled a giggle.

“Like daddy.” he muttered and you grinned.

“Exactly. Just like daddy.”

After a few intimate moments alone with Aurora, Maxwell stood up. She’d settled down a lot and had even fallen asleep in his arms. Max didn’t want to put her down to bed though, at least, not yet.

Maybe he could bring her to bed. That would be nice.

Cradling Aurora, he carefully stood up from the oak wood rocking chair and padded out of the nursery, only to hear a series of thumping footsteps venture up the stairs.

Oh no.

The jingle of her pretty pink collar was unmistakable, as the fluffy white cat, Lady Lord, came bouncing up the staircase. She purred and circled around Max’s feet, rubbing her soft cheeks over his legs.

“What do you want?” Maxwell asked, glaring down at the kitty.

Lady just looked up at him and meow’ed, her blue eyes wide and awake. If she wanted anything, it was to be fed. She loved her biscuits.

“Lady, it’s almost four in the morning. You’ll have to wait until breakfast.”

She meow’ed again, this time louder, and followed Max by his heels as he walked along the corridor.

“I don’t care, Lady,” Max sighed. “We fed you before we went to bed and you’ll get something in a few hours. I’m not feeding you now.”

Maxwell swore this cat was like having a third child.

Lady wailed and raced past Maxwell once she sensed he was heading to his bedroom. Lady Lord jumped onto the bottom of the bed, by your feet, and curled up. She looked like a snowball.

You smiled to yourself as you heard Max approach. He tilted his head and frowned when he entered the bedroom and noticed you were still awake. His frown deepened when he saw that Alistair was laying next to you.

“I thought he’d gone to bed,” Max confessed, gently passing you Aurora so you could hold her while he discarded his slippers and robe. You smoothed out Alistair’s dark hair and watched him as he slept peacefully by your side. “And why are you still awake?” Max questioned.

“I was listening to the conversation you were having with your business associate-- I mean, your daughter.” you joked and Maxwell rolled his eyes, sliding under the covers. He took Aurora from your arms so he could nurse her again.

“She gets me.” Max assured you and you had to stifle back a laugh. You leaned your head on your boyfriend’s shoulder and looked down at the newborn.

“That’s great honey, but if her first words end up being ‘Life is good, but it can be better’, I’ll not be happy.” you quipped and Maxwell smirked.

In this precise moment, Maxwell swore that he had never been happier. He spent much of his life believing money and materials would satisfy him, but he was still left with an empty, gaping hole in his heart. He always wanted more, he wanted to try and somehow fill that void, but he just didn’t know what to look for. He was never searching for love, and yet you still found him. And you filled that hole in his heart. You completed him, and made him into a better man. He could never fault you for that, and he’d always be grateful for everything you did for him. Everyday that was spent with you and his growing family was a day well spent.

If he could change one thing, it would be that he realised this sooner. But you taught him that he shouldn’t regret anything. Yes, he had made mistakes, but so does everyone, and that doesn’t make him any less of a person. What inspired you the most about Max was that he consistently worked on himself and tried to better himself for his family. And you saw his progress every single day.

“Do you want me to take Ali to bed?” Max asked, kissing your shoulder softly.

“No, he’s fine here,” you replied quietly, feeling the utmost contentment with your family being by your side. “This bed can easily fit five people.” you acknowledged.

Maxwell’s eyes went comically wide at your comment. “Five?!” he wheezed, and you pointed your finger down towards the edge of the bed where Lady was sleeping. Max hadn't even noticed her joining. Clearly, it was a family event, at 4am in his bed. “She follows me everywhere!” Max exclaimed incredulously, shaking his head and scratching the back of his neck. Lady opened her eyes and glanced up at Max, recognising the mention of her.

“She loves you.” you cooed.

“She’s annoying.” Maxwell frowned, but you knew, deep down, he adored that cat. He had never been an animal person, and he wouldn’t have adopted Lady if it wasn’t for you, but he truly did love her. She was loyal and compassionate and despite the trail of cat hairs she left all over his three piece power suits, he wouldn’t trade her for the world.

“And you love her too.” you corrected him.

Max sighed and shook his head in defeat before returning to his previous statement. “You know, this bed might actually be able to fit more than five people. Maybe six. Or seven…” he trailed off, his free hand caressing your thigh as he sized up the double king-sized bed.

He wasn’t subtle. You could read him like an open book. You knew exactly what he was implying.

Your jaw dropped and you looked up at him with wide eyes. Max’s smirk only grew upon seeing your reaction. “Wait… are you saying we can get more cats?!”

And just like that, his smirk fell from his lips. “I--”

“Oh my gosh Maxie!” You squealed, wrapping your arms around him. Maxwell blinked as he tried to process what just happened.

“I didn’t mean--”

“How long had you been planning this?” Teasing Max Lord might have been one of your most favourite hobbies. If only you could snap a photo of his face at this very moment.

He said your name, slowly and looked slightly disconcerted.

You grinned and cupped his cheek. “I know,” you laughed. “I know what you meant.”

A brief silence filled the room.

“I do like cats…” Max told you eventually. You leaned over him and turned off his bedside lamp.

“Mhm…” you mumbled, rolling over so you were snuggling into him. He was still on his back, nursing Aurora.

“I’m just saying…” he trailed off, staring at the ceiling. “I think we’re pretty good at this parenting thing. And I like… having kids with you…”

You smiled in the darkness.

“Go to sleep Maxie.” you whispered.

“I just think--”

“Go to sleep.” you giggled, and you felt him press a kiss into your hair.

“Goodnight,” he uttered. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

-—-—-—♡—-—-—-

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[rogue-durin-16]

HIS WARM EYES

Summary: Some members of the Order are reticent about letting in a Lestrange, specially after Snape's betrayal. Whilst taking Harry to the the burrow, an ambush has place. Everything points to Y/n, right?

Pairing: George Weasley x Slytherin!Lestrange!Reader

Genre: angst

Tags:

George Weasley: @meph1stophelian

Permanent taglist: @elia-the-bibliophile @randomparanoid @karlthecat15722 @thebutchersdaughtersblog @amourtentiaa @just-here-to-escape-from-reality @skarlettmikaelson

Warnings: blood, injuries, death

A/N: OH MY GOD THIS IS SO LONG AND BAD— I AM GENUINELY SORRY BUT I HAD TO

Rogue-durin-16 masterlist

Lestrange wasn't a good name.

It wasn't a good name in the streets, nor in close-doors, let alone amongst The Order.

That's why I couldn't wrap my head around the fact that they had accepted me— well, maybe 'accepted' was a strong word; they had let me in, reticent, weary, but still they had done it. Plus, after Snape's betrayal and Dumbledore's death, no one would think there was a vacant for a Slytherin and a Lestrange.

It wasn't until I found myself exiting the abandoned Grimauld's Place along with the rest of the volunteers to go to Privet Drive, that it dawned on me; they were short on people.

They were so short on people that the Order would have to swallow my name, my family and my House.

That didn't mean they would quiet down their opinions about me being there.

"I'm gonna say it." Fred announced, taking a spot in the living room's corner while Shacklebolt, Arthur and Lupin searched the place.

"Again?" Fleur groaned.

Fred had already spoken his mind about my presence before we reached Potter's house.

His and George's shocked looks had been on me since the very first moment I had walked into the old Black's home, which was understandable; last time they saw me I was joking about joining the death eaters.

Although the shock on their faces had been accompanied by very different emotions on each.

Fred's held reticence. During our school years, he had never liked me; I would dare to say he was scared of me, even.

George's gaze, on the other hand, held hope —maybe even excitement— which was comforting.

In our first year, I had managed to draw George's interest, and for three years he was adamant about Slytherins not being 'all that bad'.

George's friendship was the thread I was hanging on; he was the only thing stopping from taking the easy way and live up to my name.

The thread was cut after he asked his mother to bring me over during Christmas, which ended up in her forbidding him to talk to me. He, being George Weasley, ignored his mom's pleads and twin's scolding and still tried his best to stay close to me, so I did what was right and, at the end of our fifth year, I cut ties with him.

It hurt more than I would dare to admit.

After our drifting apart, I was forced to completely rely on Slytherins. And you see, Slytherins, as 11 year-old George would say, aren't all that bad, but the ones my name attracted were.

They were bad sort —the worst—, and keeping that company around after our sixth year wasn't the best record to have, but Merlin's sake, I was there, I had volunteered— people change.

"Son." His father warned Fred, well aware this wasn't the time, though he obviously wanted to side with him. "Don't start again."

"Someone has yet to tell me why is she here?"

"She has a name." I hissed, unable to stop myself.

"Which is why you shouldn't be here, Lestrange." The name rolled out of his tongue like poison. "She's not one to trust."

"Oi, she's willing to risk her life, isn't she?" George's words seemed to be meant to calm his twin's temper, though his warm eyes did land on mines with a reassuring look.

"Yeah but for whom?" I tried to stay quiet as Moody had asked me too, but Fred was making it quite difficult. "If something goes wrong—"

"Weasley!" Mad-eye's tone was dry as he bursted into the room. "Are you questioning my judgment?" Fred scoffed, but stayed quiet.

"If we're throwing in the surnames, you're gonna wanna know her mum's my auntie." Tonks spoke, folding her arms.

"But you're a Hufflepuff." He was quick to respond, giving me a disgusted look. "She's a Serpent."

"And you're still a mouthful, aren't you?!" I snapped, stepping forward, though Tonks gave me a lazy tug before I could get to Fred.

"Wanna fight, Lestrange?" He had taken a couple of steps in my direction already when George yanked his twins arm.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?!" He yelled, giving his brother a push. "She's here for Harry! She's helping! What else do you want?!"

"Oh my gosh, Georgie— get over your teen crush already, she's not on our team!" George's knuckles went visibly white, unlike his cheeks, which turned red.

"Are you done making a scene? The three of you." Bill questioned in a calm tone, resting against the window's bench. "I don't fancy the idea either, but we need help, Fred, so shut your mouth because we have things to do."

"Pity, I was enjoying the teen drama." Moody teased before grabbing his flask and the ones who would take the Polyjuice potion moved to stand in line.

"Y/n." George's hand brushed my hand, drawing my attention to him as we stood besides one another. "I'm glad you're here." He whispered with a side smile.

"Missed me much?" I couldn't help but grin back, bumping his arm with mine. I stole a proper look at him and thought I might as well ask before the mission. "So... Teen crush huh?" I wiggled my eyebrows at him, though I could feel my own face flushing.

I'd be lying if I said I didn't fancy George —could someone blame me?—, and the idea of those feelings not being unrequited was very appealing.

He only threw his head back and looked away, the half smile growing wider and more bashful. "We'll talk about it at the Burrow." He assured me, taking the flask with his right hand and squeezing mine with his left.

"If we don't die before that." I was joking, but fear was shaking me to the core.

"We won't." He looked at the potion disgusted and gave me a peeked at me saying, "You have to hear me embarrass myself first." And with a wink, he drank the potion and passed it to me.

Gosh, I couldn't get over the mission to hear him 'embarrass' himself.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

GEORGE'S P. O. V.

The first five minutes were calm, despite all of us being on edge. We kept checking on each other, dreading if we lost sight of someone, that someone would banish.

The storm came when we had to dive into the dark clouds.

Funnily enough, I did think it was a literal storm before entering; oh, what I would have given for it to be a literal storm.

Black, cloaked intruders flew among us, making us divide in the pairs we had been assigned to.

Lupin started casting protegos and hexes to everyone that got too close while I tried to take down as many enemies as possible.

A couple of yelled warnings were heard when both Moody and the real Harry had entered the ambush.

"WATCH OUT!" Tonks screamed, flying past me with Ron at her tail. "REMUS!" She made a signal to her husband "ESCORT!" I got the hint; we were supposed to clear Moody's and Y/n's way so it would confuse our attackers while Tonks and Shacklebolt made sure to get Harry out of there.

"ON MY LEFT!" Lupin shouted over the chaos, changing to my right for me to be by Y/n's side.

"WE'RE FUCKED!" She yelled dropping her flight to dodge an Avada Kedavra.

"WE'LL MANAGE!" I automatically dropped my flight with hers too, which was a bad decision, since we had gotten rid of the protection provided by Lupin, Mad-eye and Bill and Fleur.

Soon enough three death eaters came flying towards us.

"STUPEFY!" another Harry with the voice of Fred passed by us, closely followed by my dad.

"GO BACK UP!" Y/n was quicker than me following my father's instructions; when I did though, I realised the little formation we had going on was gone.

Suddenly, all we could hear were screams; it felt as if someone was missing but I blamed it on everyone flying around like a chicken with its head cut off.

Tonks almost crashed against me on her way down; Ron was nowhere near me, nor Lupin.

We were outnumbered, and instead of moving forward, we were stuck in the grey clouds, trying not to die.

It took me a hot second, a crash against a death eater and a couple of hexes to get to Lupin, and even when I did, it was a hard task to keep track of him.

I had just taken out someone in my way when I caught a glimpse of something my eyes refused to believe.

Snape.

Our bloody professor was trying to kill us.

I felt the need to laugh at the situation.

"GEORGE!" It was Y/n's voice snapping me out of it, although her actions shocked me even more.

Y/n casted a spell on me, pushing my broomstick to the left and consequently making me crash against Lupin and lose balance.

Then something happened, something my mind didn't quite process.

At first it felt like a slap, but the pain stung my side as if someone had sliced me with a blade.

I didn't hear my own cry, nor Lupin's desperate 'help'; I didn't feel his hands struggling to take a firm hold of me, nor my own shakily reaching to my side, searching for an injury I didn't want to find.

A second after that, everything was black.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

FRED'S P. O. V.

As soon as my father and I apparated in the fields of our home, I ran into the house. For some unexplainable reason, it felt as if something wasn't right.

A couple of steps into the house were enough for that 'something' to strike me. George had been laid on the settee, barely conscious; blood was covering the side of his face, neck and left shoulder, making his hair and clothes stick to his skin.

I was left speechless at the sight, my eyes welling up while I dragged my feet towards my twin.

"Mad-Eye is dead." Bill's words, despite sounding far away, made the gears in my head turn.

Lupin was quicker than me, though, "I told you we couldn't trust a Lestrange!"

"Remus! we don't know—" Tonks tried to calm him down, just to be cut off by Bill.

"Mad-Eye and Lestrange traveled between us and" he gestured at our wounded brother, "Remus and George." His jaw twitching let me know that he was desperately trying to stay calm. "Mad-Eye is dead and my brother just lost an ear, who is it if not bloody Lestrange, Dora?"

"Bill..." Fleur held onto her fiance's arm in an attempt to ground him.

"Did you see her disapparating?" Tonks's point was logical and hopeful.

George would have sided with her.

My eyes fixed on my wounded twin again. He was as pale as a corpse now, and the absence of his ear was way more noticeable now that my mother had begun to remove the blood.

George would have sided with Tonks because he wanted to trust Y/n, and he couldn't even speak because of that same reason.

Since everyone was arguing, they missed the flash of someone apparating near the front door.

I didn't.

Before I knew it, I was running outside with my wand in hand, Lupin and Bill following me instantly when they realised what I had just seen.

"EXPELLIARMUS!" Y/n's wand flew to my hand even before I could properly see her.

My rushed march came to a halt when I was a couple of feet away from her, making Bill bump into me; she was as pale as George, maybe more.

She took a seemingly calm, deep breath before attempting to walk.

Luckily, I saw the pools of blood on her shirt and stepped to reach her before she could touch the ground.

"Oh my..." Lupin covered his mouth with both his hands and Bill stood frozen at the sight of the girl in my arms. "MOLLY!!" my old professor yelled at the top of his lungs, going as livid as me.

We shouldn't talk on impulse, I told myself, rushing into the kitchen with Y/n in my arms. A series of gasps and regretful whispers broke the silence while I laid her on the dining table.

"Y/n?" George's trembling voice was heartbreaking, and, as my dad forced him to stay on the couch, I prayed the girl in my arms would survive.

"Oh Lord..." My mother muttered, examining her. It wasn't only her shirt stained with blood; her left leg and arm were too. "Oh dear..."

"She took the blow." Lupin ran his hands through his hair, understandably stressed. After a couple of seconds, her turned to my dad and commanded, "Get him up. Quick— go get him up." His eyes stared right into my soul and I dreaded the worst, but still obeyed and helped my dad drag George to the dining table.

I heard Lupin telling Bill something about Sectumsempra, and my heart sunk.

She took the blow.

"No..." George's murmur was close to a cry, but it was enough for Y/n's eyes to snap open.

"George." tears were effortlessly streaming down her cheeks at the sight of him. "You're... A-alive..."

"Please stay" My brother fell on his knees, reaching for Y/n's bloody hand with his own. We all looked away to give them some kind of intimacy, except from my mother, who was still trying to fix the poor girl.

I heard them both whispering sweet nothings with shattered voices until only one of them died out. I looked over to Tonks, whose eyes were gleaming with tears, and then to Lupin.

I couldn't bring myself to look at George.

After a moment of intense sobbing, my dad managed to pull my twin away from the corpse, and we carried him back to the settee.

I stayed with him the night, holding his hand and assuring him it was not his fault, but I knew my words would have little effect on his state; after all, he had been in love with Y/n for years.

All those years he had spent trying to convince all of us that Y/n was a good person, that we should give her a chance; all those years begging our mother to bring her over because she wanted to see our home.

Now her body was lying on our kitchen and I knew none of us would forgive ourselves for misjudging her.

READER'S P. O. V.

"Nervous?" A tall, redheaded kid appeared besides me; I supposed he didn't know my name by the warmth and curiosity with which his eyes stared at me.

"Aren't we all?" I replied with an anxious laugh.

He seemed to think for a moment before nodding. "Fair point, though I'll probably go into Gryffindor." He assured me with a proud smile, causing my head to cast down. "What is it?"

"Oh nothing," I shrugged, aware I would not be able to befriend that sweet boy with warm eyes. "I think I'll be sorted into Slytherin."

"Nonsense!" His intentions had been obviously to reassure me, but when he realised his response only made it worse, he added. "It'd be wicked to have a Slytherin friend, though." My eyes widened at his words; did he just— "I'm George, by the way."

"I'm Y/n."

"That's a very pretty name." Professor Mcgonagall led us into the Great Hall, and before I knew what was happening, George's hand was holding mine. "It'll be fine."

The lighting of the Castle changed once the Great Hall's doors opened; a bright, white light seemed to be coming out of it.

"Wait!" My hand gripped George's before he could leave my side. "Can you hold my hand? I-I'm scared." My voice no longer sounded like a 11 year old.

For some reason I didn't comprehend, my eyes were watery, making the view in front of me blurry.

"Don't be scared, darling." When I turned to George, I didn't see a kid; it was him, in the expensive suit I had seen him mere hours ago. "I'm here."

I just nodded and, swallowing my fear, took a step ahead, and then another one, and another, until I reached the Great Hall.