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creamhoodie · 3 months

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Summary: You and Gojo were dating in your youth. Your relationship was an intimate secret the two of you held close. After a mission went astray, your relationship fell apart. Flash forward a few years and you're now dating Kento Nanami and are forced to navigate your feelings regarding the two of them.

Tags: fem reader, NSFW, 18+ content, angst, love triangle, flashback scenes written in italics.

A/N: This will be my first multi chapter fic I've written on here (plz comment if you'd like to be included in a tag list. ) Also pls do not make fun or point out any plot holes when it comes to explaining & introducing stuff having to do with curses. This is all for fun and fantasy no way reflecting canon. The things I write about are meant to make sense within the context of the story & will be explained as the story progresses.

wc: 5.4k

Chapter 1: The Day Everything Changed

“Oh. The flowers? Is it a special day?” Gojo asked, poking his head into your empty classroom as you sat at your desk grading papers.

The roses he spoke of were in a pristine glass vase. A gift from your boyfriend.

“Kento got them for me for our anniversary,” you replied shortly.

“Oh really? How long has it been now?” he asked, cocking his head to the side as if thinking.

“Two years,” you replied.

Surely he knew. How couldn’t he? The two of you had history and call it arrogance but given that history you were sure he kept tabs on your romantic life.

“Congratulations,” he said, though his enthusiasm seemed forced.

It was enough to make you snap

“Is there a reason you came to see me?” you asked.

He smiled and walked into the room fully now, a pink bag in his hand and placed it on your desk next to the flowers.

“I got you a souvenir from when I went to Kyoto,” he said, seemingly pleased with himself.

Curiosity winning out, you peered into the bag to find a medium sized white box. Taking the box out, you lifted the lid and gasped.

“It’s Kyogashi! Oh Satoru you shouldn’t have,” you said with glee at him having gotten you your favorite flower sweets.

Caught up in the moment you stood from your desk and hugged him. His chest vibrated as he laughed at your enthusiasm. His arms enveloped you as well and you felt his hands stroke your hair. Pulling back, you saw him looking down at you.

“It’s been a while since we’ve been this close,” he said, the corners of his lips flickering upwards.

Your face flushed beet red as he referenced your past with him.

“For good reason,” you said, shoving him away. He reluctantly let you go. Straightening your blouse, you hoped his cologne didn’t linger on your clothes. You wouldn’t want to have to explain that to Nanami.

“Have you ever told him about us?” Gojo asked, as if reading your mind.

“No. That’s all in the past. It was a long time ago so there’s no need to bring it up. Besides, you broke up with me. Remember?”

He appeared visibly hurt at your words, but there was no denying the truth in them. He had been the one who had ended things with you, even if it had been in an unorthodox way.

“Remember what?” Nanami walked into the room, having caught only the last of your words. You seemed flustered but luckily Gojo was quick on his feet as always.

“She was just reminding me that it’s the two of you’s anniversary,” he said.

Nanami walked over to you and placed an arm around your shoulders as he always did for comfort.

“Oh good. That’s exactly why I’m here to take her out for dinner. Otherwise she’ll work herself to death,” your boyfriend said laughing slightly. He peered over at your desk at the box and asked, “what are these?”

“Gojo got these for me as a souvenir from his mission in Kyoto,” you replied.

You’d never lie to Nanami, he didn’t deserve that. Plus it wasn’t unusual for Gojo to bring everyone souvenirs of some sort.

“Oh that’s nice. You deserve so many sweet things, darling,” he said, giving your shoulder a gentle squeeze. He then addressed Gojo, “if you’ll excuse us I made reservations for us tonight so we really must be going.”

Nanami led you to the door, but not before stopping to grab your purse and drape it over his shoulder to carry it for you.

“I wish we could stay like this forever,” you said, snuggling into Gojo’s chest.

The two of you were laying down in a hammock outside, basking in the sun. Since there had been nothing pressing and it was an ‘off day’ the two of you had hiked near the outskirts of campus to set up the hammock and relax.

“So do I,” he replied, his lips grazing the top of your hair.

It was a nice spring day, the kind where the warmth of the sun shot dopamine into your veins and made life worth living again. Take into account the added warmth of Gojo’s body and you couldn't imagine a better place to be.

These getaways between the two of you had been more frequent and a secret from the rest of your cohort at jujutsu high. It’s not that the two of you had intended to make things secret, but you both found comfort and beauty in the privacy your relationship had to offer.

You felt Gojo’s lips at your jawline, trailing kisses there.

“Listen, about this upcoming mission…” he began what had been a source of contention between the two of you this past week.

“I know what you’re gonna say. I’m not staying behind, Yaga said I’m ready.”

You looked up at him, he was silent for a moment, his mouth forming a rigid line. Snuggling into him more, you tried to break down his resolve. “Satoru, you don’t have to worry about me, I can handle myself.”

His crystal eyes softened behind his frames and he pressed another kiss on top of your head before speaking.

“It’s not that I don’t think you’re ready. It’s not about Yaga thinking you’re ready. It’s just that special grade curses are different. They are on another level.”

“Well if it’s not about me being ready then what’s it about?” you pressed.

His cheeks grew pink.

“I just can’t lose you. I can’t stand the idea of you being hurt,” he said.

It was the closest to a confession about his feelings you’d gotten. He was sweet, affectionate, caring, and very much protective. But one thing Gojo struggled with was voicing his feelings. The fact that he did so now emphasized to you how serious he was about the upcoming mission and the danger it presented.

“I know, but that’s why you’ll be there to help protect me. Plus there’s Nanami, Yaga said he’d be going too.”

Gojo nodded, but his eyes had again taken that look where he seemed so far away in thought. You often wondered if his mind was occupied by the intersection of cursed energy and humanity as he always seemed lost in complex thought. But oftentimes when you’d catch him in this rumination, he’d quickly snap back to his carefree self, leaving you wondering if you had imagined it. This time, he let his rumination linger.

“Satoru, I’ll be fine. It’ll all be fine,” you said, softly inching upwards to snuggle your face into his neck, breathing in his ocean breeze scent.

“You better be, because I don’t know what I’ll do if it’s not.”

With the conviction he said it, you wondered if it’s the first time in his life Satoru Gojo felt truly vulnerable.

“How are you liking your meal?” Nanami asked over a bite of his own steak.

“It’s excellent. The salmon and lobster are to die for,” you replied.

The waitress stopped by and asked if the two of you needed anything. Nanami asked for more champagne as it was a special night.

The thing about Kento Nanami is that he was a lot more loose and laid back than people would think, of course under the right circumstances. Holidays and anniversaries provided those circumstances. Of course there was you, whenever the two of you were in a room together, people saw a side of him they usually didn’t see, a doting and affectionate side.

“My love, I want to take a moment to thank you for spending these past two years with me. Every moment of everyday you’ve given me something to live for,” he said. His hand reached out over the table to cover your free one, the warmth of his calloused palm made you shiver. You couldn’t help but compare his hand to Gojo, whose skin was soft.

No, that wasn’t right.

Why were you thinking of Gojo right now? You love Nanami, you have always been certain of that.

“Love?” Nanami questioned, worry forming behind his spectacles.

“I should be thanking you, Kento. You’ve treated me like a princess these past two years,” you replied.

He smiled, and it reached his eyes.

“I love you,” he said.

“I love you too,” you said.

You loved Kento Nanami and his calloused hands you knew he had acquired from his years of hard work, both physical and mental labor that shaped the foundation of who he was and his beliefs. It was better to leave Satoru Gojo and his soft hands in the past, there was no place for him or them in your life anymore. He had been the one to make that clear.

“Just stick by me and you’ll be fine,” Gojo said to you as the three of you came upon a corporate office in the special wards of Tokyo.

The veil had been cast and the area had been blocked off by authorities so there wasn’t any concern of civilians being caught in the crossfire, or so it would seem.

“Remember this special grade can shapeshift, so it’s best we stick together. From the reports, it’s intelligent so it’s been camping out in this office building and luring victims inside using its shape shifting abilities,” Nanami said, giving you two a rundown in case you hadn’t done your homework.

Maybe other times he’d be justified in doing this, as Gojo was known for winging it, but given your presence, he had made you read the reports with him over and over.

So you knew that not only was the special grade curse a shapeshifter, but that it had been luring victims all over Toyoko in different places for the past few months. Due to its intelligence, the trail of it had gone cold as it was acting as a serial killer of sorts and had covered its tracks once it had sensed it was being hunted.

Most wicked of all the curse seemed to have had access to a missing person database and therefore transformed into the missing person and lured friends and family to their deaths.

It was awful, but it explained why Gojo was so worried, the curse exploited those dear to you.

“I should go in first, and scope it out. If I see it I’ll exorcise it,” Gojo said.

So much for sticking close to him, you thought.

“That wasn’t the plan,” Nanami refuted, “Yaga said we should stick together. Besides, it’s more logical that way. If it turns into you and we’re separated it can cause more confusion.”

“It can’t copy my techniques,” Gojo said, unconcerned and determined to go at it alone, no doubt his intention was to protect you.

“We don’t know that for certain. It hasn’t transformed into a sorcerer before. It’s best we stick together on the off chance it can mimick more than appearance.”

Gojo’s jaw was clenched. Nanami had him backed into a corner with his logic, there was no refuting it. Whether splitting up or staying together, there would still be risks posed to you.

His eyes locked with yours, but he made it seem as he was talking to the both of you.

“Stick by me.”

“Mmm, Kento” your head fell back in pleasure as he laid kisses down your neck, the door to your shared penthouse apartment just closing behind you. His kisses were heated and lustful, bringing out a side of him only you had the privilege of knowing.

“I want you, badly.. need you right now,” he said through gritted teeth.

“Fuck, so take me,” you replied.

He picked you up, effortlessly as though you were weightless, carrying you to your bedroom. He plopped you down on the bed and you fell back against the silken sheets.

“You’re so beautiful. I’ve been thinking about this moment all day,” he confessed as he undid the buttons of your blouse. You helped him shrug it off your shoulders until it was discarded to the side. That left you in your bra, breasts spilling out of the tight cups, a lone nipple just managing to peek through the top. Nanami cursed, hardening at the nip slip. He couldn’t seem to help himself as he bent forward to kiss you again, the kiss festering into a passionate make out of tongues, the stream of salvia that connected the two of you even after you broke apart served as evidence for the heated exchange.

“Ken,” you whimpered, the jolt of heat between your thighs growing painful.

“I know, all in good time,” he cooed. He groped your breasts, squeezing them slightly so they spilled over in the cups, both nipples fully exposed now. His hands moved quickly to undo your bra, fully removing it now. His lips found yours again, and you moaned into the kiss as he massaged your sensitive breasts. With shaky hands, you began to unbutton his shirt, revealing his muscled torso. The kiss became hungrier as you palmed at his pants to undo his zipper, when your hand made contact with his hard on, he muttered a faint “oh fuck,” against your lips. He gently pushed you back so you were laid down on the bed fully as he positioned himself on his knees in front of you. Quickly, your lower half was undressed panties and all until you were completely naked before him.

“So beautiful,” he praised once again, his face inched forward and you knew what he was going to do, “and all mine,” he added before his tongue licked at your folds.

You gasped, grasping at the silken bedsheets to stabilize yourself as he continued to pleasure you. His fingers began to join in and between them and his tongue he was crafting a symphonic arrangement uniquely curated to you and all your sensitive parts. His fingers stimulated your clit while he lapped at your arousal which continued to flood, overflowing and dripping on his chin.

“Kento, yes..it feels so good,” you moaned. He picked up the speed and as he did your hands went from the bedsheets to his hair, in an effort to be even closer, you pressed his face against your sex. You cried out as you felt the friction from his frames against your vulnerable skin.

All the white he continued to lap, the lewd noises of your wet skin and his lips permeating the dark room.

“Ken-I’m so close,” you warned.

“So cum then, cum all over my tongue,” he panted before resuming.

His voice, so animalistic, so unhinged and unlike his usual composed self, set you on edge and you felt your toes curl as the familiar sensation of an orgasm overtook your body.

Gasping for air, you felt your body give out to the sweet release as below Nanami lapped it all up.

“Tastes. So. Good,” he said each word between laps, savoring it.

By this point, you had fallen fully back against the bedsheets, hands over your head, your ribs and breasts rising and falling as you caught your breath. The view of Nanami, glasses drenched with moisture, hair flopping out of its usual gel style, and mouth puffy and pink made your heart race. And it began to race even more as he stood up, undid his tie, and shrugged off his shirt you had unbuttoned. His glasses soon followed, revealing his stunning hazel eyes. Finally, his pants and boxers were discarded.

Although you and Nanami had been very sexually active these past two years, it still caught you by surprise how big his cock was. It was long and the girth was impressive, and his pink head was the same color as his lips.

“We’re not done yet,” he whispered, lining himself up with your sex. “Spread your legs even wider for me, love.”

You did as he asked and the glow of the city lights coming in from the window shining on his skin made him all the more handsome. You felt his mushroom tip fetter its way into your folds easily and you both moaned in unison at the skin to skin contact as he slid his length into you. When he completely bottomed out inside you, he paused for a moment, allowing himself to soak inside of your warmth.

“You feel so good,” he sighed in complete bliss. Throughout your relationship during your pillow talk and aftercare he had described being in you as being in a domain. All he could feel was you, as though all he was ever meant to do was be inside of you, every moment of his life all the hard work and hours he has put in as a salaryman and a sorcerer had been to lead him to this moment, soaking inside of you, his heaven and his relief. He rested his forehead against yours for a few moments, the two of you savoring the sensation and tension of the unprotected contact that felt just as good as the first time even after two years. Shaky breaths and whimpers were the only sounds in the room. That is, until he spoke again.

“Tell me you love me,” he requested,”need to hear it again.”

“I love you,” you replied, genuinely.

“I love you too,” he reciprocated.

He then began to thrust in and out of you, setting a steady pace. You felt his cock going in and out of you, each time more wet than the last as he coated himself in your arousal, the sounds of slapping skin echoing.

Your eyes rolled back in pleasure as he continued until all you could feel was Nanami.

All you could think of was Nanami..

“Nanami? Did you hear that?” you asked as the three of you combed through the halls of the warehouse. Gojo led further up front, having requested, no more like commanded, to take the lead.

Nanami paused, cocking his head to the side, his long blonde hair falling like a curtain in the same direction.

“I didn’t hear anything, but it’s safe to assume the curse knows we’re here now. It’s best that we all stick together,” he said somewhat pointedly at Gojo.

The corporate office was truly a sad sight, where it was once a place no doubt bustling with business, the lights no longer worked and the few bulbs that remained in use flickered, threatening to go out at any moment. The three of you were on the first floor, having walked through the lobby and several conference rooms, there was no sign of the curse.

Except, you had heard rustling, and you felt the hair at the back of your neck stand up as though you were being watched.

“Let’s move on to the second floor,” Nanami said before calling out,”Gojo let’s move on.”

Gojo was crouched down on the floor dipping his finger in a small puddle of water.

No, not water, upon further inspection it looked like..

“Blood. Cursed spirit blood by the looks of it,” he said as the purple liquid dipped down his finger.

“So it’s been wounded recently? From what?” You asked.

“Maybe a victim tried to fight back and managed to puncture it somehow. Perhaps there’s still a survivor or it’s taken hostages,” Nanami said, thinking through the logic, “either way it’s vulnerable which means-“

“It’s a whole lot more dangerous,” Gojo finished. He locked eyes with you again, and the look in them made you gulp. “I’ll go on ahead and search. Nanami, you stay with her.”

Not this again, it seemed as if he was determined to go at the mission alone, and no doubt it was because of you.

“We’ve been through this. Due to the curse’s ability it is more advantageous for us to remain as a group,” Nanami said.

“So take her back to the school. We all know I can handle it on my own. Then we don’t have to worry about it changing into one of the two of you,” Gojo said.

“Satoru, I'm staying here,” you said with finality.

That did nothing to dissuade him.

“This isn’t a sightseeing trip or low level mission. You could die!” He shouted.

His words were like cold water. You knew the skill difference between the two of you, but he had never made you feel inferior before.

“I knew the risks when I came on. We all know the risks of being a sorcerer,” you said, your lip shook a little.

Regret formed in his crystal eyes and he opened his mouth to speak again but whatever he was trying to say was drowned out by a shriek.

Your shriek, it took a second for you to register the sound and the fact that it wasn’t coming from your mouth.

It was the curse.

The three of you turned and down the hall stood an exact replica of you, a perfect imposter.

Gojo cursed, and you knew this is what he had been afraid of.

Nanami planted a kiss on your bare shoulder as you snuggled back against him in bed. The two of you were still naked from your love making and had taken to cuddling afterwards.

“Your skin is so soft,” he said, as his lips took to the curve of your neck up to the back of your ear, now making you laugh.

“I think part of the credit for that goes to you, you spoil me with all these fancy creams and lotions Kento,” you said.

It was true. Nanami was loaded, filthyfully so, but he was so humble about it one wouldn’t know it. It’s not that he didn’t enjoy luxury he did, but his form of luxury wasn’t branded items to show off to others, it was silent wealth, expensive items he enjoyed for their quality and longevity such as his watches or the rare edition books he was fond of collecting. Most of all, he loved to spend his wealth on you. Anything you even showed interest in was yours, the bathroom was stocked with luxury brands for you to use and he had gifted you more lingerie sets and clothing than you knew what to do with.

“Spoiling you gives me something to live for,” he said, nuzzling his face into your hair and breathing in the scent, “ask me for anything and it’s yours.”

You turned to face him, his eyes were so kind as they always were. That was something you had always enjoyed about Nanami, his eyes were kind towards all, but of course there had always been a certain fondness in them that was reserved for you. It had taken you embarrassingly long to notice that.

“I want you to not work yourself to death. You’re always saying I do that but you’re worse than me. You’re always going away on missions,” you said cupping his cheek with your hand.

“I can’t do that, dear. You and I both know the responsibilities of a grade one sorcerer,” he said.

Yes, you both did.

Perhaps it would have been a responsibility the two of you shared if it hadn’t been for you no longer continuing to practice your techniques and skills. Perhaps if you had only continued you could accompany him on these missions, instead you had opted to remain at the school teaching in class instruction only.

Ever since that day, that mission so long ago..

“Hey, I didn’t mean anything by it,” he said softly, he turned his head to kiss your palm. You dropped your hand, returning it at your side. You didn’t look at him.

Yes he didn’t mean anything by it, but this was a source of contention between the two of you. It was because of your guilt of not being able to accompany him on missions, your fear of losing him, and most of all the deep rooted shame you had in yourself for quitting.

Yes you could still practice now, get stronger and better, but was it worth it?

You had been out of the field for so long and you enjoyed the life you had now with Nanami. It was a life of comfort, stability, but still you wondered if there was more you could be doing. So now every time Nanami left, you worry about losing him. He did have a good work life balance but he was a man of conviction and principles who took his responsibilities so seriously that he wouldn’t hesitate to lose his life in an instance if it was for a higher calling, the thought scared you.

“You said ask you for anything I want, and that’s what I want,” you said in a small voice.

He chuckled slightly.

“No fair, sweetheart. You know I can’t deny you anything,” he said.

You moved closer, so your face was a mere few inches from his.

“So don’t, stay with me,” you whispered before kissing him.

He moaned into your kiss, and you could tell you were threatening all of his resolve.

“Fine, love. You get your wish. I cut back on the number of missions I take,” he said.

“But?” You pressed, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

“But?” He repeated.

“Do I have to do something in return?” you clarified.

He laughed.

“At a later date I’ll ask you for something in return. For now, let me enjoy being this close to you.”

The shriek still echoing in your ears, you didn’t have time to process anything as the curse disappeared from in front of you and a black sinking hole appeared underneath your feet.

Your own hands, duplicate imposter hands, grabbed at your feet and dragged you through the sinkhole. You heard Gojo call your name but it sounded so very distant.

When you got your bearings straight, you looked around and saw you were in a basement of sorts. The three of you hadn’t even thought to start with the basement! In fact the three of you hadn’t even thought there was a basement as most modern corporate offices no longer had any. It was a minor error, but a critical one all the same.

“Don’t try to run, it won’t help your friends,” the curse said in your voice.

It still looked like you, identical down to your shoes.

“I don’t have to run. They’ll find the basement soon enough,” you said.

You didn’t move as the curse dragged you by the arm and took you further back into the basement. To your surprise, there was an old automobile there. The curse took you around it, sat you down facing forward. It was then that you noticed some thick rope and a wad of duct tape there.

“Seems like you’ve thought everything through,” you said.

Now would be a good time to use your abilities.

But should you?

Perhaps the curse only copied what it could see. If you used your abilities would more danger fall upon you? Physical combat would be better, much safer.

The curse tied you up on the car leg while you debated this. You struggled against it and spat in your own face as it held up the duct tape.

That caused the curse to strike you in the face, and then put the duct tape on your mouth. Then it left you there.

Did it mean to steal your identity? Gojo and Nanami were smarter than that, they’d expect it. But it was clear the curse was operating on higher levels of intelligence than anticipated, it was scheming even.

“Stay here,” it spat at you as though you had any other option.

The curse then went back to the front of the basement.

You heard racing footsteps, Gojo’s footsteps.

“I got away but the curse it’s still out there!” You heard your voice shrillish, and authentic.

“Did you see where it went? Are you hurt?” Gojo asked.

No, something was wrong.. how could he not tell it wasn’t you?

Perhaps he was toying with the curse, letting it put its guard down.

You turned your neck and could see ever so slightly Gojo and yourself standing several feet away. The height difference between the two of you was more jarring from this perspective.

“I didn’t see where it went. I’m okay but it was so scary,” the curse said, still imitating you.

Gojo bent down pressing his forehead against yours.

“It’s okay. I’m here now,” he said.

To your horror the way he said it, in the soft tone reserved just for you, served as evidence that he had been duped.

But how?

Couldn't he sense it with his six eyes? What was going on?

Even more horrific he leaned forward and so did the curse as if to kiss their lips mere inches apart….

Suddenly, Nanami ran into the room and without hesitation used his sword to slice the curse in two, purple blood flying everywhere.

That’s when you began to cough up something sweet in your throat.

You heard the two young men arguing.

The last thing you heard before passing out was Gojo screaming your name…

You woke up at Jujutsu High a few days later, in the medical wing of campus.

“Hey, there’s our girl,” Shoko said, smiling at you. She was sitting at your bedside.

“Where’s Gojo?” you asked.

She ignored your question and touched your temple, causing you to relax instantly.

“Do you feel okay? I had to work long on you. I also wanted to keep a close watch on you it was a very interesting case study actually-“ she stopped, knowing her comments would only make you more curious.

“Shoko. Where’s Gojo?” You pressed.

She seemed hesitant as if she wasn’t sure how much she was at liberty to say.

“He came to see you several times. I can let him know you’re up. He should be here soon.”

She then left to do so, whipping out her cellphone.

It was odd.

The Gojo you knew would be here, at your bedside.

But day turned into night and he still didn’t see you.

For whatever reason you weren’t allowed out of the medical wing on Yaga’s orders apparently.

Three days past, and he still didn’t see you.

It was only on the fourth day when you woke up from one of the Shoko induced slumbers via sedation that you saw him standing there in front of your bed.

He looked like he had lost weight even though it had only been a few days. His shades fully covered his eyes.

“Why didn’t you come to see me? What happened? Was the mission successful?” Your mouth spilled out several questions without even thinking.

He was silent for a while before answering.

“The mission was successful. Nanami killed the curse easily. It evidently was on the brink of death already.”

“But?”

That’s when he explained. Truly explained.

The curse was unique in nature in that it had to suck the life force out of another organic being in order to survive. That’s why it had taken on the appearance of the missing children and lured family and friends. It fed off the feel good energy that the family and friends emitted upon thinking they found their loved one. Except here was the twist, the children died because their loved ones believed the curse was them. It was that transfer of energy that allowed the curse to add to its lifespan and in short take the energy from the person it was imitating. It was a leech in nature.

That’s why when the curse had been killed you had begun to choke as well because it had linked its life force to your own.

“But it had to have tricked you. Surely there’s something else, another ability it has to dull the senses and that’s why you thought it was me,” you said.

Because this truth was too difficult to accept. Satoru, your Satoru would know you anywhere wouldn’t he?

“That’s just the thing. I’ve racked my mind around it. There’s no ability, no reason why I of all people could have fallen for something so simple,” he turned away from you now, his back facing towards you, “the simple truth is I didn’t see it because I wasn’t looking.”

He then walked out of the room, despite you calling him to come back.

You chased after him but he was gone, vanished into the air.

In the subsequent days he was gone and when you asked Yaga, all he said was that Gojo had taken a leave from the school for personal reasons.

Days turned into weeks.

Weeks turned into months.

Months into years.

It was six whole years before you saw him again.

By that point you were in your early teaching career and he evidently had gone to the Kyoto school to finish his studies and become a great grade one sorcerer.

For a while you had dreams of him abandoning you, dreams of that day where everything changed…

a/n: if you read the whole thing thank you I always appreciate the time people spend to read my content. Any feedback is always appreciated as well.

#satoru gojo x reader #gojo x you #nanami x you #kento nanami x reader #satoru gojo #kento nanami #jjk drabbles #jjk x reader #nanami smut #gojo and nanami #jjk fanfic

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mysticalaurorasblog · 2 years

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Hi again! Sorry for being greedy but plz do some Indra Otsutsuki links too (if possible include squirting sorry)🥺🥵🤧

Hey Anon! You are not being greedy at all! I absolutely love your requests and enjoy writing them too 😌❤️ I know I'm answering late and I'm very sorry about that ☹️. I hope you like this and do send a feedback 🥺❤️

To others that engage with this post, please read this before you do.

Warning ⚠️: Contains graphic material, anal, breeding kink, degradation kink, rough sex, 18+, MDNI. Also if you are uncomfortable with this, do not interact.

You can find all my work and all the links that I've posted here (link)

⚠️ This is not proof-read ⚠️

😩🥵🔞 INDRA 🔞🥵😩

These are the links.

Link 1, Link 2, Link 3

Indra is a man that loves and craves power. The same is true in bed. This man loves the feeling of being dominant. The thought that you are totally at his mercy, drives him crazy.

You were a trophy that he had won after fighting, forced to be his wife. You were one of the innocent girls in the village established by Ashura, helping your father with the farm and mother with the shop. In one of his fights with Ashura, Indra had laid his eyes on you, and that day he had decided you were going to be his wife.

On the night of the wedding, Indra forced open his way into your tight pink virgin pussy. it hurt you, but he didn't care. Looking at your face contorted with pain and pleasure as he continued pounding you, finding and hitting all your spots tuned him on too much. He came into you four times that night.

He doesn't love you. But he is possessive about you since you are his prized possession. You are the perfect submissive wife that he desires, the beautiful, virgin wife that will do as he says, cook and clean for him and bear him as many children as possible.

He reserves every night for you and makes sure nobody disturbs you both. You are required to take his big fat cock without any hesitation. You can whine and cry as much as you want, but you cannot escape it. At first you hated it, but now you have become cock drunk. Your pussy expects his ruthless pounding every night, and without his cock you would become restless.

He loves getting oral. He loves the feeling of his cock, deep in your mouth, touching all the way back to your throat. He will hold your head, and fuck you mouth relentlessly, making you choke on his cock. His first round of seed is always ejaculated into your mouth. You are supposed to drink it like a good girl, without spilling any drop of his potent seed. His cum is too precious.

At first sex was all about breeding and birthing children, a way to increase the number or people in his clan. But after having sex repeatedly, he just got so addicted to it that he has you deep throating him sometimes in the middle of the day. He might fuck you in front of his people.

If you think he's done cumming once into your cunt, oh boy you are so wrong. He will keep pounding your pussy until he's filled it with so much cum, that your pussy can't contain it.

His favourite positions are mating press and doggy style.

He has the biggest degrading kink. He will repeatedly call you a slut, a sex addicted whore, while he makes you cum over and over again. He will pull your hair roughly, while he pounds into you repeatedly, his fat cock diving deep into you pussy and hitting your cervix, bruising it.

He once fucked you so hard that your filthy pussy squirted over and over again while his cock was railing you, and he got addicted to it. Now he makes sure you squirt at least once during your fuck session. He will go to any lengths to see your pussy gush out that clear liquid.

He loves anal, the days when your pussy is too sore to fuck, or you are on your period, he takes you anally, ramming his cock into that tight hole without any hesitation. He loves when your anus grips him tightly around his cock, milking every drop of cum from him.

Watching you fat and huge, your tits heavy with milk, you belly swollen with his child one of his greatest desires. The thought of you pregnant turns him on so much, making his dick rock hard instantly.

You are not allowed to talk back to him, and if he catches you talking to any man that he doesn't approve off, he will rip that pussy. He will ram his cock all night into you, making you cry and moan loudly with pain and pleasure, making sure the entire village knows who you belong to.

#naruto shippuden #naruto imagines #naruto series #smut #indra otsutsuki #indra otsutsuki x reader #indra x reader #uchiha smut #uchiha clan #naruto uzamaki #naruto fanfiction

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mooshs-crack-headcanons · 3 years

Note

Could you do headcannons of theDMC5 Sparta boys(Nero too plz) having a piece of your clothing and smelling/senting it while they’re getting off? Like say it’s close too their heat and you’re not around

Love your work btw!

Thank you so much I'm glad you like my work! Usually when someone asks Sparda boys in a request I usually would include V as well but since he's Vergil's human half and all, not a hybrid, he wouldn't go through heats of course so he wouldn't be included in this request! Nero's part did get a little bit longer compared to the other two parts than I originally planned 😅 but I still hope you enjoy!

CW: I don't take A/B/O dynamics requests but since I've seen plenty other other fellow dmc writers on tumblr write that demons go through heats and the monster fucker part of me is at least on board with that much but not delving any further this is the closest to A/B/O that I'll write. So if this type of writing makes you uncomfortable please don't read the following! Otherwise I hope it came out okay.

(This work includes: gender neutral!reader)

(NSFW under the cut as always)

Vergil

It's a late afternoon one day when Vergil find himself alone in the office; with Dante out on a job with Nero and you went out shopping with Lady, Trish, Kyrie not that long after. It wasn't very often that Vergil got time for himself these days, after all the Red Grave Incident even after all this time still really affected the world with demon infestations meaning they're to be plenty of jobs to do and after Vergil's realization and guilt he felt as V - he's more than willing to help out and do what he can, even if it means hours and hours of work each day. So it's actually you who told him to take to day off and despite the long back and forth the two of you had he's taken it; today he can just sit down with a nice cup of tea and loose himself in the same pages of Blake's words just as he did as a child.

However something's slightly off that keeps preventing him from that relaxation.

No matter how many times he sits and loose himself in his book he has to readjust himself - switching back and forth between crossing his legs differently and rotating from sitting back against the back of his chair to hunching over, leaning ridiculously far on either armrest. Something still felt off.

Then suddenly he feels suddenly like the hottest circle of hell throughout the entire office - first he takes off his coat thinking that will be the simplest solution but to no avail, then he goes over to the old rocky AC that is littered full of Dante sized fist holes all over the sides of the damn thing but then he remember he's no good with human technology and the last time he touched something of the sort you screamed at him for days about having to buy a new washer, so he just goes with opening a few windows. Something still felt off.

Then it's as he goes to sit back in his chair to finally go back to his reading escape from whatever discomfort he's feeling that he really takes a good look at his surroundings; all the pizzas boxes, the dirty clothes, the tossed aside paperwork, the dust collections on every top shelf - the entire place was a pigsty no wonder why he can't truly make himself relax! No matter how much that Lowell girl helps clean up this drivel mess his buffoon of a brother will always make it right like it was before in no times flat. He should've expected as much, it was exactly the same when they were children. And like when they were children; it wouldn't be long before the mess bothered him so much that he found himself cleaning it up.

It doesn't take long before the front office, kitchen, and many other rooms of the shop are cleaned...or well at least more presentable than what they were; surfaces dusted and polished, trashed discarded, work papers sorted and went through, floors swept and mopped, loose cash and coins picked up and stashed the old piggy bank Dante was given a few christmas' ago from Patty on top of the cabinet, dishes (manually) washed and put away, and finally the laundry from the floor and the rest of the house into the hamper in the laundry room (for someone who understands technology to do) However, now Vergil faced a small problem: his inner turmoil of discomfort still has not left him. A swelling ache of heat scorched through his body, something that felt so familiar but something he...couldn't process him going through again, something as with each growing moment he sits on his brother old busted up couch he starts to slowly recognize more and more with each breath that becomes rocky, every shift of his body that shivers straight to his groin, to every drag through his hair to keep himself grounded. Heat. His season.

Given he spent over two decades in a state of mindless corruption under Mundus' hand in hell and all, to say that it's been an extremely long time since the last Vergil experienced a season is...an understatement. Hell, he didn't even know he still could go through one with how badly Nelo Angelo ruined his body; how it corrupted, twisted, and prevented him from taping into any of his real demonic power stronger than sparking summoned swords into existence (and even that took him some time fo relearn and took toll on his body) and turned him...into that thing. It wasn't until V's sacrifice that really fixed him up and made him whole again - maybe the reason why he found himself in the situation he currently finds himself in.

Now even pre-hell Vergil never really sought out to quell his seasonal needs, it was always some thing he could manage himself by either fighting hordes and hordes of strong demons for the heat's entirety or (and begrudgingly) treat by his own hand, those were the only two options and he refused to find a human partner one: because he felt himself above the sort and two: humans and too fragile and weak to deal with the sort, he can only imagine how much he could possibly hurt you if he even tried - oh that's right, that's another thing, him...somehow explaining this to you. Vergil utters a quiet curse to himself at the predicament. His father damn it all.

With a growl low in his chest and the voice of his inner demon starting to scream at him his eyes hit the floor and a piece of (color) fabric catches his attention. Picking it up he recognizes it instantly: it's one of your shirts, one he must've missed in his clean up. A big part of him wants to get up and put it with the rest of the clothes in the hamper, but even so he finds himself not being able too with how...good it smells. Now Vergil is more than familiar with your scent, for the longest time it's come to be as a comfort to him but right now...he's never smelled something so sweet? Has it...always been this sweet? No this is his demonic hormones driving him out of control, Vergil stop it - he has to mentally tell himself. But yet he can't help but bring the clothing to his face, truly basking in that warm sense of comfort and safety you bring to him.

It's not one of Vergil's...brightest moments, him locked up in his torn apart room with his mattress clawed to shreds with the sharp dark navy talons sprouted on his partial triggered hands desperately working himself while face first into your shirt, with all the growls and roars mixed in with whines and choked out moans that he would normally hide all out in the open.

Your scent smells so fucking good and with every pump of his triggered cock thrusting mindlessly into his own hand he imagines exactly what he would be doing to you if you were here right now. How much he wants mark up your delicate flesh with his teeth from head to toe, to show any other competition, just how good you had it - how you truly belonged to a Son of Sparda and exactly who they would be up against if they tried anything. He wants to fill you up so much his scent of his come in you would to reek to any other demon out there for miles and miles even days after it's gone. He wants to to fit the entirety of himself inside you and to watch you absolutely squirm around it only for him to pull the entirety of himself out and slam it back in to get you to scream. He wants to fuck into you so deep with his wings cocoons around you two and get right up against your ear and whisper every single bit of praise from the bottom of his heart to the second you both meet your end just so you can just realize how much he truly cares.

The closer and closer he gets the more he shoves his face in your shirt and looses himself with his amazing he feels. The pure bliss as keeps imagined himself with you, your scent, your loving and soon it turns everything becomes overwhelming that gets humanly tears streaked down his face. He climaxes with a loud growl as electric blue engery snaps through the air as he fully triggers, come dripping and soaking the sheets below in ridiculous amounts that Vergil has to physically hold himself up from passing out. When radiational thought returns to him he unpops DT and looks down at the state he's in and just how shaky and soaked his thighs are. He drags a hand through sweaty silver hair.

20+ years and he never remembered past...experiences feeling that...intense.

Vergil picks up your shirt from off the mattress, your shirt that was stained with sweat, come, and had multiple new probably noticable holes that weren't there before. He felt awful, how was he supposed to...explain this to you? His heat was most definitely not over, especially when his long it's been since he last truly went through it so how was he supposed to explain all of this?! Maybe he could just leave, give the excuse the phone rang with job and he had to - no. He promised you, he was on break today and he wouldn't take any jobs. He needs to be honest with you about it but...he doesn't know how. He wants you, his demon screams it's need for you to be here.

Asking for help is hard for Vergil, I think everyone understands that, so for him to argue with himself enough to get the old rotary phone in his hand to call and ask you to come...help him is definitely hard on the eldest son of Sparda. Guilt swarms through his gut with every shaky punch of the buttons of your number and even more so with every ring that shoots through his ear as he waits for you to pick up but it's at the sound of your voice when you do answer that makes him weak that makes his plea come out everso easily.

"I'm afraid I need your assistance at home."

Dante

Dante spending the entire day in bed wasn't an entirely new concept, just a thing he does time to time on days he 'takes off from work.' It's on one of these days that Dante wakes up clinging to every blanket, pillow, and stuff animal that might be on your bed and just...lays there unmoving.

Day number six of being away your job you took with Trish and still weren't back yet and with how his mood has been lately he was sick of it. Yes, he know he shouldn't feel this way you have your own career and you take your own jobs just like how he does but god damn he missed you so much that he can just sniff you off the scent of you all over the entire bed, that's the reason he gives himself for not wanting to leave and he shoves his face into your pillow. Then a voice a clarity speaks to him; he knew the exact reason why he's thinking this way - season was approaching him.

Now Dante isn't as young as use to be but he does go through heats once every few years instead of every year like he would if he was about twenty years younger. So he's more than use to these hormonal feelings bullshit, the heat scorching through his body as his inner demon demands him to get on something and go at it like something on hell's discovery channel.

You probably won't be back for awhile longer, few more days tops so he'll just have to treat this one himself like he's done time and time again long before you entered the picture. You've been with him through his heats before and while it might be the hottest sex you've ever had during his seasons, this is Dante after all, he can't help the feel any anxiousness he feels every time you take him in devil trigger - one wrong move is all it'll take and you'll be another voice added to the back of his head haunting him, this is why he's never sought out finding a partner to help him during these times and why it took so long for him to accept your help with it in the first place. He does appreciate it, he appreciates you so for absolutely everything you do for him and he would give you the entire world if you just ask but, a part of it is his...hesitance he's always had with his demonic side. Yes over the years he's come more to terms with it and understand it, hell even to a point where he's surpassed his father but-

Nah, whatever thoughts he was thinking he's not in the mood to think about it any further, just more in favor to reach a hand out to the teddy bear laid on your spot on your side of the bed, it's little beady eye staring back at him.

Dante won you that bear on one of your first dates through a carnival that came through town, you loved this thing so damn every single night since has it shared the bed with you two that the fact it long lost it's right eye became less creepy at some point. Now it just laid next to one of your old shirts staring soullessly back at him, smelling just like you. There's definitely not beating the real deal but there's most definitely a feeling of solace cuddling next to it. It's nice, like your here next to him.

Your scent smells so good that it he could almost taste you. It's just intoxicating that it sparks the heat through his body and sends aches to his groin that he can't help to thrust his hips to find any type of friction from the mattress below but nothing quelling it. A low growl leaves his lips as he he feel his teeth morphing in his mouth and his fingertips starting to sharpen. A loud purr ruptures through his throat as he nuzzle the scent of you; the strongest hit if it coming from the shirt that he can't help but to pick up and absorb your scent. He sighs out a curse, alright this is going to get ugly, Teddy doesn't need to see this.

His hands work mindlessly at himself and your shirt rests in his mouth, drunk in your scent, his sharp scaly palms are already soaked in his come and leaking to the sheets below after one shaky climax after another but none really itching his need. Hot long orange tongue hangs from mouth as he distortion of his trigger he begs; he wants you home he needs you here right now. He bites down on your shirt and shutters with the ecstacy that of your scent washes over him.

He can just imagine you, barely even able to take his fully triggered cock, straddling his hips carefully not to hurt yourself with all the sharp points that just out the sides of his thighs. Inch by inch you take more and more of it, even with the previous prep it's always too much at first that honestly worries him and makes him ask the question if you wanted to stop but every time you smile at him great big with that beautiful amazing smile and you gently touch his face, even with the face of a demon you look so unbelievable loving at him as you promise you can take him. Inch by inch he goes inside and no matter how much pain you're initially in it's a matter of time before it changes to pleasure and that's the exact moment he loves watching the spark change in your eye and you beg for him to start ploughing you. Sharp claws indented on the flesh of your thighs as he throws your legs up and onto his shoulders to go even deeper if that's even possible, your hands flying to tug and pull on his horns. It's all so good, all so good he could cry with how desperate he wants it.

When he comes he comes with a roar and a sudden rip that goes through the air. After panting down from his high and sizzling off his DT, he finds the source of the ripping shoving in two separate parts that they most definitely weren't in before. Oops. Despite the body shakes still in his system he sits back his knees and looks at the...remains (if you can call it that) of your shirt below him, scratching his head. This one isn't going be be very easy to explain is it? Fuck. Well at least it wasn't your favorite shirt? He doesn't think? Dammit Dante.

"...I guess Trish was right telling how much of a mess you must been in since she could smell it from outside."

Your voice startles the shit out of him, almost making him go back into trigger. You have a small tired smile on your face as you stand in the door way, looking at the mess your love is in before you. Before he can even flip the switch to turn the situation around, your scent stronger than any shirt can be, is it sweetest in person. The most comforting. The younger son of Sparda can feel himself turn into mush as you slowly approach closer, yanking your shirt over your head and kicking the bedroom door close behind you with your the heel of your foot.

The moment you stand in front of the bed, you eye your shredded shirt before you can't help but struggle to contain the giggles in your throat.

"That bad, huh?"

"More than you can believe, babe."

Nero

Nero of course hasn't had his devil trigger for long, now only for a short year and there seems to be new stuff he learns about it every day. Like for instance if you hold the charge in for a good few seconds, the pop of it will kill a a swarm of lower class demons at once, stuff like that - stuff he can learn on his own, nothing that any demon whether it be his father, uncle, Trish, or hell even Lucia taught him.

Now on one hand, he wishes they would give advice (though it's not exactly like he asking for it directly in the first place, of bit of that Sparda awkwardness and all) after all they've all had and been using their demon abilities longer than he has, even if all their powers varies in different abilities (but it's the thought that counts) and maybe he can at learn learn...something from. But then on the other hand, he's okay with them not giving him advice especially with the...awkward situation he finds himself in currently. He would rather die then have that embarrassing conversation with any of them about what the fuck is going on with him currently.

The built-in bathroom in the van is rather quiet small, especially for someone whose Nero's size (Sparda height gene and all) Normally it wouldn't really been an issue, he'd just do his business whenever necessary and leave - you know like a normal person. However, with his current predicament; half triggered and desperately jerking off as inhumanely fast in hopes that whatever the fuck was going on with him would just stop...but no matter how many times he makes himself come and he thinks he's spent - that swelling hear surges right back through his body and hardens his cock once more, he quickly found himself becoming claustrophobic shut up in the small room.

How long had he been in here? He wasn't sure. He had to stop at some point; you, Kyrie, Nico, and the kids were inside probably worried about him over dinner. He'd been feeling this weird feeling in his chest all day, it even got him thrown off his style game during the job you and him took today. He couldn't describe exactly what it was but the...heat, the feelings in his chest, the ache, the need, the smell it just...all seemed to intensify the very moment he to get anywhere near you and when you were his hunting partner so off course it's going to make work difficult for him and it didn't exactly take a genius to figure out whatever this was that was happening to him was some weird demon thing. How was he supposed to bring up something like that to you? He didn't, just made his space and tried not to think about it and that's why he stayed out here to work on the van in the first place to clear his thoughts and maybe this...demon thing would just settle being away from you awhile.

Spoiler warning; it didn't. Only made it worse to the point he got so dizzy he had to go inside of the vehicle and sit on the couch, heat tearing through and ripping through his body and leaving him to feel himself as his limb slowly start to uncontrollably trigger; talons ripping from his fingertips and long white hair sprouting out and cascading over his scaly shoulders. Oh and there was a thick barbed dick unsheathing and leaking out of him. That was new.

Things go by...shamefully fast. One minute he's on the couch in discovery of...well demon dick and the next he's shoved and locked himself in the bathroom going to town on himself. His grunts, his whimpers, everything seems to spill out from his lips in distorted need, no matter how hard he tries to keep them to himself every pump of his hand as he imagines himself pummeling into you as you grab nothing but fist fulls of his snowy locks and beg him to go harder and faster fill you up until there's nothing left of you that hasn't been seeped with his come.

Aquamarine arms from his shoulders and a mind of their own scoop down and grab something from the floor before what they grab gets shoved into his human hands. Nero pants down from his last high before he looks down - even before he's aware of what it is your scent absolutely just slaps him in the face. It was one of you shirts, soaked in dried demon blood from a previous job and meant to be thrown into the hamper for Kyrie's special washing cycle specifically for dirtied hunting clothes. The youngest Sparda looked down to it with a shaky sigh as your scent continued to tickle and seduce his demons instinct desires, the occasional red orb falling from the clothing and clinkering to the floor.

Shame heats his face as one spectral hand pump the fabric around his cock, his eyes slammed shut, one set of fingers cramming any noises from leaving his mouth, pretending that this wasn't just him that it was you instead singing all your praises to him in his ear, making him feel so safe and loved, that he was doing so good for you. That's all it takes to push him over his edge all over the bathroom floor.

He sits there for a good few lingering moments after as the shaking breath of his high begins to settle down. Then realization kicks in. Your shirt now resting on his soften yet half hard cock is completely ruined in his mess. Shame slaps back him right in the face. Fantastic fucking job Nero, he mentally scolds himself as he lifts up your shirt and accesses the state of the material. How exactly was he supposed to get this cleaned without any noticing the big ass fucking stain on it. Oh he wouldn't be able to look you, Kyrie or anyone else in the eyes ever again if they found out. Red scorches his face with guilt. He didn't even know what the hell was wrong with him, he couldn't untrigger no matter how hard he tried, he wanted to be honest with you but how the hell was he supposed to do that if he didn't understand his own body.

"Nero? You okay in there?"

SHIT. SHIT. SHIT. SHIT.

"Kyrie saved you some dinner when you're ready. Nero?"

You knock a couple times on the bathroom door, on the other end Nero desperately scrambles to try and recompose himself.

"Out in a minute!"

Then it hits him that he's in partial DT still when his he hears himself. Shit.

Frantically he looks around the bathroom in search for a hiding place he can put your shirt so he can not deal with the embarrassment and shame right away - as he moves around thrashing against his spectral arms that cling onto the clothing and refuse to let him let the material go, knocking tons of things over off the nearby sink.

"Let go! Let go!" He huffs under his breath.

"Are you sure you're alright?"

He doesn't answer you, too sweeped up in the sudden death match he's having with his extra pair of blue demonic limbs.

"Nero?" You call out, unbeknownst to him your hand moving to slowly open the door revealing the scene occurring in the small bathroom in front of your eyes.

The best way to compare the look on Nero's face was to a deer caught up in headlights with how he his world slowed as your eyes bounced around to several places; your now messy with more than just blood shirt being fought over by two sets of hands that all four belong to the same body, to said body's almost full devil triggered state, to the quickly hardening cock in all of it's spiky barbed glory that dripped of both pre and come that seemed to trail to an even bigger mess on the tile floor. You took a moment to gulp down a breath.

"Look I can explain-" Even though he couldn't, even after all of this he still had no idea what the fuck was going on.

"No it's alright. It's uh...normal thing demons go through after all." Your cheeks flushed. Huh?

You look at Nero with a sigh.

"It's uh...a mating thing demons go through. Lady told me about it, she helps Trish when she goes through with hers."

Nero looks dumbfounded, though you couldn't tell at what piece of information given.

"It's called a heat-"

"Like what dogs go through?!" You hiss through your teeth.

"Yeah I guess if you want to compare it to that-"

"Son of a fuck."

Nero slumps down on the side of the tub and holds his temple muttering down a few curses. You go to sit next to him before he noticeably tenses - you hold up you hands and sit a good amount of space away from him.

He shakes his head before asking how long that this 'heat' will last, you give him an estimation give what Lady has told you about Trish's and tell him about a week or so - though this isn't a good enough answer for him.

"So I'm just supposed to shut my self up here for a week then? (Name), we live with five other people in the house three of those being kids - I can't-" You stop him by leaning over and pressing a sudden kiss to his lip, a kiss he melts against.

"You'll be fine, we'll take care of it, okay? Go and take a break somewhere. But for right now and now...if you want-"

You drift as you slowly make your way onto his lap, hands gripped tightly onto scaly shoulders.

"-we can make the most of it."

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Tagging list

@calamitysaiyan @blacktalonsb @lokilover476 @localdepressedvampire @radeendaweed @emeraldpearls

How to be added to the tagging list + additional info

#devil may cry #devil may cry x reader #mine #dante sparda #dante x reader #vergil sparda #vergil x reader #nero sparda #nero x reader #sin content #tw a/b/o elements #gender neutral reader #I may have put a sprinkle of lady/trish in Nero's part too 🤫

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svnflowervol666 · 4 years

Text

Ma Petite Chérie: Babymoon (Harry Styles x fem!Reader)

Read more from this little universe, Ma Petite Chérie, in my masterlist!

Summary: Harry and Y/N go on their babymoon.

Warnings: pregnancy, smut, fluff

Word Count: 6.4k

Author’s Note: Hello! I wrote this in order to cross off a few requests. I promised Harry and Y/N would have a baby of their own, plus I get asks all of the time to write pregnancy sex - specifically awkward, giggly pregnancy sex. I also got one about Harry getting a love boner, so here is my attempt at shoving all of that down your throat at once. Try not to choke :-) I also just reallllllly love Harry, Y/N, and Tallulah, so I wanted to give them some more love. Also made this one pornstache!Harry, so, there’s that. And one last thing...I know the verb tense is way off in this but I could not be arsed to edit it so plz don’t drag me. I hope everyone enjoys! Take care and TPWK.

“Oh my god,” Y/N huffed as she collapsed on the plush sofa in the living room of the cottage.

“It feels so fucking good out here by the water.”

“Breeze is nice, innit?” Harry replied as he rummaged through the kitchen cabinets to check out how well the place he’d rented for the week was stocked.

“Beats going t’ France at the end of June. Think I’m kinda gettin’ tired of Paris t’ be honest.”

“That is quite possibly the snobbiest thing I’ve ever heard you say, Mr. Styles,” she said with a laugh as she began to flip through the tourist brochures that were left on the coffee table.

Not that they’d be partaking in any of it, no. Their plan was to hole up in the quaint, Scottish cottage that sat right on the coast of the North Sea for the whole week, not even planning on changing out of their pajamas.

It was their babymoon after all - a time of peace and tranquility before the arrival of their first child together.

Harry hummed and he made his way from the kitchen to where Y/N was seated on the couch. He stood behind her, knees knocking against the back of the sofa as he crouched down and wrapped his arms around her very large, very swollen belly.

“If I recall correctly, Mrs. Styles, I sat my injured arse in a stiff train seat to Edinburgh for five hours because someone was too scared to fly even though they were cleared to do so by three separate doctors.”

“’M not Mrs. Styles for another year and a half,” Y/N muttered under her breath, albeit not trying to keep Harry from hearing it in the slightest.

Harry snickered into her neck, then playfully nipped her earlobe with his teeth as he whispered.

“Not my fault yeh got knocked up and we had t’ push the wedding.”

“It is very much your fault, Harry,” Y/N swatted at his face, fingers first brushing his jawline that was covered in a rough stubble and then just barely tracing the full-blown mustache that sat like a caterpillar above his bright pink top lip.

Harry smirked down at her, nostrils flaring wide and lips disappearing inside of his mouth.

“How’s your rib?” Y/N asked suddenly.

“Good. Why?” Harry’s brows quickly furrowed together in confusion as to why she was asking about his injury.

“Might have to ride that later if you’ve got the lungs for it,” she tapped her index and middle fingers along her philtrum, right where Harry’s mustache sat on his own face.

Her blunt lewdness had Harry’s cock immediately growing stiff in his pants. It had been a while. His injury coupled with her being in the last trimester of her pregnancy had left them both feeling unsatisfied for the past several weeks. Maybe this babymoon would prove to be relaxing not only because Harry and Y/N get to spend a week without a rambunctious almost six-year-old screaming at all hours of the day, but for other reasons too.

“Think I’d actually drop dead from happiness if yeh sat on m’ face right now, lovie. But, before yeh get too comfortable with that idea, we need t’ head into town. Kitchen’s only got the necessities, and I doubt yeh want t’ eat homemade bread for a week.”

“I’m sure you’d love to eat homemade bread for a week,” Y/N jested, poking fun at Harry’s latest obsession with the carb-filled food.

“Remind me again why I put up with you?” Harry toyed as he extended his arms out towards Y/N to use as leverage to help her hoist herself up from the couch.

When she regains her balance, she lifts herself up just slightly to press a quick kiss to Harry’s lips that he happily accepts. Y/N hums and jokingly checks the imaginary watch that sits on her wrist.

“How much time do you have? That list is pretty long.”

The trip to one of the only supermarkets in the small part of Edinburgh that they were staying in had proved to be rather tiring, because Harry opted to use store-bought pasta instead of making his own - something he never does. Maybe it was his healing rib causing him to be short-winded, but he simply could not bring himself to hand-make the pasta they chose to have for dinner that night. He bitched about it all night, about how it wasn’t as chewy as it should be and how it would have tasted much better if he would have just made it himself, but it still didn’t deter him from helping himself to a second serving.

He claimed it was because while he did use pre-cooked pasta, he didn’t use sauce from a jar and made his own from fresh tomatoes and that was the appeal. Y/N just thinks Harry likes to complain and listen to himself talk.

After dinner, just as the sun was setting and Harry and Y/N were waiting for their pasta to digest before they dove into the box of fresh pastries from a bakery they found along the way, they decided to take a walk around the property. The renovated, stone cottage that was overgrown with vines and leaves sat along a short cliffside that overlooked the North Sea. It was a short walk down the cliff that brought them to the beach, where mist from the ocean whisped around their legs and ankles like a thin veil of smoke. While it was the middle of summer, Scotland’s persistent rain showers and their proximity to the water never made it too hot to bear.

“Lulah would love it out here. We’ll have to bring her when the baby’s older.”

“She realIy would,” Harry agreed as he wrapped his sweater further around his chest.

“Know yeh didn’t give birth t’ her, but I swear you two are just alike sometimes. Absolutely hates bein’ hot and gettin’ sweaty just like you.”

Y/N smiled softly and knowingly at Harry before reaching into the pocket of the patchwork sweater of Harry’s that she’d stolen for their stroll on the beach for her phone.

“I’m gonna call her.”

She picked up on the third ring, Y/N’s phone screen then illuminated with a live image of a gap-toothed Tallulah. Well, it’s Mitch’s phone, but she’d been waiting for this promised FaceTime call all day so of course she’s quick to answer.

“Mummy!”

Both Y/N’s and Harry’s heart swelled in their chest when they heard Tallulah speak. It had been several months since she’d decided to start referring to Y/N as her mother, but neither of them had grown used to it just yet. Y/N felt a sense of achievement in “earning” the title of being Tallulah’s mum after all of the years she’d spent with her, and Harry felt a sense of resolution. His family was a real family now, and not just a patchwork of awkward relationships and trust issues. Y/N was Tallulah’s mum and she was now seven months pregnant with their own child and they’d be married by the end of next year. He was actually there to see his child grow this time, they weren’t a secret kept from him out of spite. He’d be there for all of it, even the gross and bloody and goopy bits. And he’d never felt more complete.

“Hi, baby,” Y/N beamed from ear to ear.

“What are you doing?”

“We’re walking on the beach,” Y/N answered.

“Want to see it?”

The five-year-old (five and three-quarters if you asked Tallulah herself) nodded quickly, and Y/N then flipped the camera around to show her the view of the water. Y/N pointed out their cottage from where they stood in the sand, turning the camera to Harry briefly as he held up a peace sign so Tallulah could see that her dad was also on the beach with her. She told her all about the train ride there and how Harry almost slipped and broke his face when was carrying his and Y/N’s luggage into the cottage.

Harry listened to his two little loves talk back and forth with the biggest smile on his face as he absent-mindedly scoured the beach for rocks he could skip along the water. He noticed whenever Tallulah said something that Y/N thought was funny, she had to cup her bump with her hand and forearm to keep it from shaking her entire body. She told him she hated laughing now, because it made her look like Santa Claus, but Harry thought she couldn’t look more beautiful.

“That’s so pretty! Can we all go when the baby is here?” Tallulah asked, puckering into a pout as she begged.

“I think that’s a great idea, Lulah. We were just talking about that, weren’t we, Harry?”

Harry perked up from where he had been washing a sandy shell off in the ocean and suddenly appeared in view of the camera and took the phone from Y/N.

“Hmm?” he asked as he studied Tallulah’s appearance.

It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Mitch to watch his baby girl while he went away for a week with his other baby girl, it was that him and Sarah voluntarily asked to babysit Tallulah and that’s what made him so apprehensive to accept their offer. There wasn’t anything out of the ordinary about a sleepover at Uncle Mitch and Aunt Sarah’s every now and then, but to want to watch his daughter for an entire week certainly was. Harry felt like Mitch was plotting against him and that he’d come back to Tallulah with bright blue hair and bangs or she’d be sporting the world’s worst potty mouth when she came home, but so far that didn’t seem to be the case.

She was wearing Harry’s “Dream Boat” shirt that she’d claimed as her own a few years back when Y/N had taught her to wear her father’s clothes when she missed him because the smell would remind her of him (he had to steal it back and sleep in it a few times every now and then to keep his scent on it), and her long, brown hair was damp and neatly braided into two plaits and hanging off her shoulders. That had to have been Sarah’s doing, because Harry knew Mitch could barely put his own hair into a ponytail without creating several lumps and redoing it eighteen times before it looked presentable - meaning he certainly wouldn’t have been able to make a five-year-old sit still long enough to braid her hair perfectly.

She looked fine, though. Happy, healthy, certainly didn’t have blue hair or bangs and hadn’t said a single naughty thing since she’d been on the phone with Y/N.

“Lulah wants us to come back here after the baby’s born and take her with us,” Y/N beamed.

“I think we can work that out. Sounds quite lovely, actually,” Harry concurred.

“Yeh bein’ good for Mitch and Sarah?”

“Mhmm,” Tallulah nodded.

“We had pizza for dinner.”

“That sounds yummy,” Harry enthused, trying to let his daughter know he had his full attention.

“It was bery good,” she sighed.

There was a long pause before Tallulah blurted out suddenly in the most serious tone, “When are you gonna shave the rest of your mustache? Mitchy was making fun of you today.”

Harry was caught between a gasp and a laugh, which resulted in him choking on his own spit. Y/N turned on her heels in the sand to look at him with wide eyes.

“You okay?” Y/N mouthed quietly to Harry, completely oblivious to everything that had happened in the last thirty seconds.

Harry nodded, wiping the involuntary tears from his eyes as he coughed himself back to life and regained his composure.

“What exactly did Uncle Mitch say about my mustache?” he prodded.

Tallulah shrugged, subconsciously wiggling her loose bottom tooth with her tongue.

“Don’t ‘member. Just that you look weird with it.”

“Well that’s not a very nice thing t’ say, is it?”

“Mummy said you look weird, too,” Tallulah spouted without hesitation.

Her comment left Y/N’s mouth agape, covering her smile with her palm as Harry’s raised eyebrows feigned offense in her direction.

“She did?” Harry asked sarcastically, narrowing his eyes at her.

“Yeah,” Tallulah sighed as if it was exhausting having to tell your own father that his facial hair looks off-putting.

“I think you should shave it, too. It’s scratchy when you kiss me goodnight.”

All Harry could offer in return was stunned laughter while Y/N hid her face in Harry’s peck. Her bump pressed lightly into his and even though he was pretending to be mad at her, he wouldn’t dare think about pushing her off of him - not while she was this warm and cozy against his chest.

“Well, if mummy really hates it I suppose I’ll get rid of it. But,” Harry pauses and pulls Y/N out from where she had burrowed her face into his sweater.

“I think I might know a trick that’ll convince her t’ let me keep i-”

“Enough!” Y/N exclaimed, clamping both of her hands around Harry’s mouth.

Harry chuckled against her palm and poked his tongue through his lips to lick her fingers, which sent her hands flying back down to her leggings so she could wipe them dry.

“I swear to god, Harry. You’re five years old,” she joked with a disgusted expression on her face, to which Tallulah had something to say to that.

“No, I’m five years old!”

The two adults laughed in unison.

“Alright, Lulah. We’re gonna go inside now. ‘S gettin’ kinda cold out,” Harry said.

“We’ll call you tomorrow before bed. Alright, lovebug?” Y/N added.

“Okay,” Tallulah huffed.

“We love you, Lulah,” Harry spoke softly into the microphone.

“Love you, too...Daddy wait!”

“What is it?” he asked.

“Give the baby kisses for me. And no bikes!”

Harry wanted to laugh, but he also wanted to cry, so he settled on a closed-mouthed smile that was enough to convince Tallulah that he was unbothered by what she said.

“Kisses for the baby and no bikes. Got it,” he nodded.

“Okay, I’m gonna go eat some sweets with Sarah!” the child yelled, suddenly energetic like she had temporarily forgotten that her and Sarah had baked cookies twenty minutes before Y/N called.

“Alright, but it’s almost bed time so not too m-!” was all Harry could answer to before his daughter ended the call and presumably raced to where ever Sarah was in their house.

“‘S like she doesn’t even miss us,” Harry mumbled as he placed Y/N’s phone in his back pocket and began walking back up to the cottage with his arm wrapped around Y/N’s shoulder.

Y/N hummed, basking in the warmth that radiated from Harry’s chest as he held her.

“They’re just buttering her up. She’ll be crying to leave by the time we get back.”

“Just don’t really know why they were so keen on keepin’ her t’ be honest.”

Harry positioned himself one step behind her as they walked up the stone steps together, keeping one hand on the small of her back. Y/N peered over her shoulder at him, her tight lips curling up into a smirk as if to say she knew something he didn’t.

“What?” Harry asked.

Y/N shrugged, “Promised I wouldn’t tell.”

Harry clearly didn’t like that answer, because he moved his hand that was supporting her waist and quickly pinched her bum.

“Tell me,” he demanded, eyebrows scrunched together and lips pursed together in what could be considered a childish pout that mimicked Tallulah’s.

Y/N sucked her lips into her mouth, contemplating whether or not she should spill the beans on the news Sarah had shared with her a few weeks prior.

“They’re gonna start trying for a baby soon,” she whispered as if were a long-kept secret told in a room full of nosey people despite the two of them being alone on the otherwise desolate beach.

Harry’s ears perked up, a wide smile adorning his face from ear to ear.

“No fucking way,” he mumbled, and suddenly all of Mitch’s incessant hammering of baby questions he’d sent Harry’s way in the past few months suddenly making a lot of sense.

Harry thought he was trying to be a good friend and stay engaged in Y/N’s pregnancy, but now he understands the real reason behind his behavior.

Y/N nodded deviously as they make their way into the living room of the cottage.

“They’ve been asking everyone they know with kids to let them come over just to see if they can handle it. I mean, if you ask me, I think they’ll do great. Nothing wrong with trying it before buying it, I guess,” she said with a shrug.

“God, he’s gonna be such a good dad,” Harry was practically beaming for his closest friend.

“I know,” Y/N agreed, walking over to Harry to hold both sides of his head in her hands as if he was a disobedient puppy being disciplined.

Her bump prevented her from getting too close to Harry’s chest, the roundest part of her belly nudging Harry’s tummy.

“They’re both very excited. Which is why, when he finally decides to tell you, you have to act surprised. Act like he told you you just won the lottery or something. Alright?”

Harry sarcastically changed his facial expression to mock bewilderment. His eyebrows rose well off into his forehead and his jaw nearly dropped to the floor as he gasped.

“How’s that? Think he’ll buy it?”

Y/N jokingly jabbed him in the shoulder.

“Smartass. I’m going to take a shower. I’m sticky and I smell like the ocean.”

“Guess I gotta keep workin’ on it, then.”

When he’s done cleaning up what was left of their dinner, he heads to the master bedroom with the intention of washing up in the shower after Y/N. He’s messing around with the A/C unit on the window to make sure it’s not set to a temperature that will smother them in their sleep and unpacking their luggage into the wooden dresser, where an antique turntable rests.

Stacked long the side of the record player, there was a handful of old vinyl, most of which Harry either recognized or new very well. He was actually shocked to find a Shuggie Otis album in the collection, to which he quickly slipped the record out of the worn sleeve and set the needle to the edge and waited for the soft sound to fill the room while he worked.

“That thing works?” Y/N’s voice broke up the old 70s tune as she exited the bathroom with her hair tied up with one of Harry’s scrunchies that she stole out of his toiletry bag, wrapped in only a towel that barely fit around her form.

“I know,” Harry agreed, “Needs a new needle but other than that ‘s in pretty good shape.”

“Leave it to you to find a rental with 70s records in the bedroom,” there was a lighthearted tone in her voice as Y/N poked fun at him.

She padded over to her luggage in the corner of the room for a change of clothes, only to realize Harry had unpacked it all for them. As she’s rummaging through the drawers trying to figure out where Harry had put what, she lets her towel drop to the floor freely.

Harry doesn’t know how must time has passed, but he knows he’s staring. He’s staring at the water droplets that drip from the stray hairs on the nape of her neck and run down her bare back. He’s staring at the swell of her stomach where their baby lies, at the faded, almost-shiny stretch marks on the sides and the newer, darker ones on the underside that had only recently broken through. He’s staring at the bracelet on her wrist, the one that’s braided pink and blue with three beads on it - one ‘H’, one ‘T’ and one heart. Tallulah made it for her at school one day and told her the heart was for the baby and also because she loved her. It was hanging on by its last few threads, threatening to snap as each day passed, but she refused to take it off.

All he does know is that he loves her so much that he thinks none of this is real and that he’ll wake up one day and be in his early twenties again with no direction in life and the insidious feeling that he’ll die alone without ever finding his “person.” It’s when Y/N called out to him and snapped him out of his thoughts that he’s realized his underwear are suddenly feeling incredibly tight.

“Har,” Y/N beckoned him away from whatever had been occupying his brain.

“Hmm?”

He resituated himself on the bed and crossed his legs in an attempt to hide himself from her.

“I said the hot water in there’s kinda shit, so you’ll probably want to wait a little bit before you get in.”

“‘S alright,” Harry dismisses, “Come ‘ere.”

He draws her towards him with an outstretched hand, navigating her around the bedpost and over to the side where he had been sitting. With the gentlest of touches, he runs his fingers over her bare legs. The coolness of his rings don’t make well with her skin that was still extremely warm from her shower, causing hundreds of tiny goosebumps to erupt around her thighs. Harry raises her shirt, one of his that she stole when her own clothes became too uncomfortable, but even now she’s nearly stretching this one to its limit, and rests it on top of her bump.

She doesn’t question him, doesn’t chastise him. She lets him love on her, lets him press kisses to her skin just above her belly button (making sure to give an extra one from Tallulah per her request) and rest his cheek against her stomach while his other hand feels around on the other side in hopes to feel the baby move or kick or do something to let him know that they’re there. Lucky for Harry, baby knows when their dad is around and is quick to make themselves known, so he takes a second to savor these last few moment he’ll have with his newest bub before they’re earth-side in a little less than two months.

Y/N lets him be because she knows how important this is to Harry. She knows that he never got these moments with Tallulah and that it’s one of the things that plagued him during those nights where he feels lonely despite her being asleep right next to him. He never got to feel her kick in her mum’s tummy and he didn’t get to see her grow from the size of a pea to the size of a melon before she was welcomed by her parents and the rest of her family that had been waiting anxiously for her arrival.

No, Tallulah was dropped on his doorstep like a wet kitten in the middle of the night. Shivering and crying and just needing someone to hold her and tell her that it was going to be alright because her mother had decided she’d be better off elsewhere. Of course, she was too small to remember, but Harry could never forget it.

So, it’s the least she can do. To let Harry love on her. Love on them.

Her eyes catch his once or twice and she can see the gears in his head turning. There’s something on his mind and he’s hesitant to tell her what it is. Y/N lifts his head by tilting his chin up, her index finger brushing over the healed scar on the underside of his jaw from a few months prior.

“What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?” she whispered.

Harry shakes his head, a grin on his lips.

“‘M just really, really happy right now. Happy tha’ I’m here w’ you.”

Y/N smiles back at him genuinely before pulling away from his grasp and gesturing to his lap.

“And I’m happy that I’m here with you. Seems like your little friend is really happy, too.”

A soft groan emits from Harry chest, having realized he’d uncrossed his legs at some point and his very prominent bulge had come into Y/N’s view.

“Sorry, lovie. Didn’t mean t’ make it like tha-”

“I’m just messing with you. You know,” she ponders, “I was half-way kidding when I asked about your lungs earlier. But... This will be the last time we’re kid-free for a while,” she taunted.

“Are yeh asking?” Harry jests and points his thumb towards the bathroom door, “‘Cos I was actually plannin’ on just having a wank in the shower.”

“Oh, okay,” Y/N shrugs and moves his hands off of her waist as she pretends to walk towards the living room.

Before she can take two steps, Harry’s standing up and pulling her back into him for a kiss. It’s full of heat and passion and almost knocks Y/N off of her feet. He cradles her head in his large hands and moves to whisper in her ear.

“Really gonna let me fuck yeh?”

A quiet chuckle escapes her lips, to which she replies, “What else did you think we were gonna do all week?”

He’s unable to bite back his own laugh, and it’s the sweetest sound to ever grace Y/N’s ears.

“Then get on the bed and take yeh clothes off.”

They work quickly, as they’ve conditioned themselves to do over the years of squeezing in any time they can together before they’re interrupted. Y/N lies back on her elbows as she waits for Harry to undo his pants and her breath catches in her throat when his boxers hit the floor.

His cock is hard, not fully, but the sight of the first few beads of glistening precum causes a shiver to run down her spine. She’s blown him a handful of times since he’s been in recovery, but she’s been far too pregnant and he’s been far too injured lately to engage in any kind of actual fun. It’s safe to say that they’re both more than ready.

Harry scratches at his scalp, unsure of how to word his questions as he looks her body up and down.

“How do you...erm...how do you wanna-?”

“My stomach, please,” Y/N says with a laugh.

She quickly reaches for one of the pillows behind her and gets on all fours, wedging the object underneath her bump to keep some of the weight off of her back. Slowly, she arches her spine down towards the mattress, and the glimpse Harry catches of her pussy through the light of the setting sun is enough to send another jolt straight to his cock.

Harry wastes no time joining her on the bed, caressing her hips and moving back to massage the plump skin of her ass. He leans down on top of her, flips her hair over to one side, and begins sucking on the sensitive skin between her neck and jaw.

“Gonna let me taste yeh first, right?” he mumbles into her skin.

Y/N hums in response, attempting to rock backwards in order to feel Harry’s cock rub against her backside. She hears Harry laugh, presumably because he’s caught on to her neediness, so it only pushes him further to be the tease he’s notorious for being.

He sponges wet kisses down her back, getting a rise out of every audible breath that leaves Y/N’s throat.

“Relax, baby,” Harry says when he feels her growing tenser as his kisses travel closer to where she needs him the most.

“Gonna get yeh there. Just gotta be patient.”

Harry presses one last kiss on the final notch of her spine before using one of his hands to spread her legs open just a little bit further. When he parts the globes of her ass, his mouth waters. Her pussy is shimmering with her arousal, perfect and on display just for him.

He tests the waters by running the tip of his tongue from her clit up to her center and he hears a sigh of relief leave Y/N’s lungs at the contact. Next, he’s massaging her folds, exploring her and refamiliarizing himself with the way she tasted. Harry feels her relax into the mattress with each lap of his tongue against her, silently begging him for more. His tentativeness allows him to read her body language and he draws back momentarily to spread her lips apart with his middle and index finger.

The cool air against her core stuns Y/N, but is quickly drowned out with a moan when she feels Harry’s warm saliva drip from her ass down to her clit. His mouth is back on her before she can recover from the sensation, lapping her up and flicking at her clit with his tongue and driving her mad. He’s got his nose buried inside of her as he devours her in the way that he’s really been yearning to for months (he doesn’t count the late night or early morning quickies because he claims he never gets to spend as much time taking care of her as he really wants to). The scruff from his mustache is staunch against her soft folds, but Harry’s tongue is quick to soothe the burn and she loves it.

He smirks against her as she lets out a particularly loud moan when his facial hair brushes against her clit. What was that about shaving my mustache? he thinks to himself but does not dare say aloud.

When he senses that she needs even more, his fingers move from spreading her apart to pressing against her opening. Gathering her wetness on his digits, he slowly pumps them in and out of her. Y/N’s mewls and whimpers are like music to his ears and only spurs him on further. He ruts his hips against the comforter, anything to relieve the throbbing between his legs that is a result of how pliable she’s become for him. She’s soaking the rings on his fingers in the most picture-perfect way and Harry truly genuinely can’t get enough of it; and neither can she. Which is why he’s confused when one of her hands swings around her backside to stop Harry from working her open.

“Har-” she pants.

He withdrawals all contact immediately and peaks his head around to look at her face.

“Yeh good?” he asks as she’s stands up on her knees and turns around to face him.

“‘M great. Wanna be on top now,” she says, her lips plump and swollen from biting down on them so harshly that she nearly drew blood.

“You sure? Yeh don’t want me t’ finish yeh first?”

His eyes dart from her lust-blown eyes to her round belly.

“Mhm. Now lay your pretty ass down before I change my mind.”

She doesn’t have to tell him twice and he’s rolling over on his back, working his way to prop himself up against the headboard. His cock is red and leaking against his stomach, excruciatingly waiting to be buried inside of his girl. He wonders why she’s staring at him with an annoyed expression on her face, but then she speaks up.

“Do you see how pregnant I am? Gonna have to lay all the way down, shit head.”

He does as he’s told and he’s honestly scared that he’ll cum in five seconds if she doesn’t get on with it.

“I swear to god, if you laugh at me,” she grunts as she straddles his waist, “I’ll cut it off.”

“‘M not gonna lau-”

It’s his turn to moan aloud when she grips onto his cock, running it across her folds to collect as much wetness as she can before she allows him to stretch her out. He’s focusing so much on not losing it right then and there that he doesn’t realize she’s stopped and is waiting for the go-ahead. Through his dark, thick lashes, he nods; as if she would have to ask.

Harry reaches for her hands as she lowers herself onto him, the two of them squeezing a bit too harshly when she reaches the last few inches. The burn consumes Y/N from the inside and out, but it’s never felt so right to either of them.

She’s not moving just yet, but her cunt is pulsing around him and it feels almost as good as the real thing. They’re staring at each other, both with looks that relay more than words.

“Love you,” Harry’s face softens as he looks up at her.

“Love you, too,” Y/N smiles as she leans down as far as she can in search of a kiss.

He meets her in the middle and their lips find one another and mash together in harmony. The rocking of their hips reminds both of them what they’re actually doing, and causes both of them to gasp at the way Y/N pumped Harry half-way in and out of her.

When she’s settled back down on the base of his cock, she begins slowly rutting herself back and forth. It takes her just a little bit longer than usual to work up a steady rhythm, but when she’s got it, boy does she got it and it feels so fucking good. The tip of Harry’s cock is pressing against the deepest parts of her and before she knows it, there’s a warm coil winding up in her tummy that bounds itself tighter and tighter inside of her.

She needs to go faster and she needs to go faster now, so she braces her hands on Harry’s chest as she continues to fuck herself on Harry’s cock. Harry lets out a sound that she can’t tell apart between a groan of pleasure and one of pain. His hands dart quickly from where they’d been gripping at her thighs to grip at her wrists.

“Can’t do tha’, lovie. Not the ribs.”

“Shit,” she laughs, subconsciously clenching down on his shaft in the process.

“Sorry.”

“‘S okay,” Harry reassures her as he repositions her hands on his shoulders so she can still have something to grab on to.

“Keep going.”

Her bump is now cradled against Harry’s stomach and it allows her to find relief in the way that her clit is brushing against the trimmed nest of hair that lies around the base of his thick, throbbing cock. He’s twitching inside of her so much that she can feel it alongside her thrusts as they continue. They both won’t last much longer and they know it.

“‘M getting close.”

“I know,” Harry pants beneath her.

She switches positions, now with her fingers digging so hard into the meat of Harry’s thighs that her knuckles are changing color. She’s able to lift her hips up and down a bit more from this angle, and it allows Harry’s cock to nudge against her sweet spot.

“Feels so good, H,” she whimpers so quietly that almost Harry couldn’t even hear it.

“‘S that it? Right there?” he mocks as he works at meeting her thrusts with his own.

The best he gets from Y/N is a nod as she focuses the best she can on getting herself there. She’s coating him with her juices with each pump and with one glance down at where they’re joined together nearly shoots Harry over the edge.

“Yeh gonna cum f’ me?” Harry asks as his thumb reaches under her to begin rubbing circles on her clit.

“Gonna give me a good one?”

His movements coupled with his words catalyze the tightness within her, threatening to snap at any moment. She’s definitely sweaty and tired of being on top, but she’s so close now that she wills away the pain in her lower back and thighs.

“Come on, bunny. Give it to me.”

He works with that he can and makes sure he’s slamming into her as deep as he can, speeding up the pace he’s making with her clit in the process.

She cums with a strangled, “Fuck,” and a shrill cry of his name, and that’s all he needs to meet his end as well. The world is black and quiet for the two of them for just a brief moment, and then they’re both seeing all of the stars in the galaxy.

Her walls are coated with the warm ropes of his seed and spills out of her as she milks him, coaxing all she can out of both hers and Harry’s orgasms. Y/N can feel the last few twitches of Harry’s cock inside of her and her movements slow to a stop.

His cum is splashed along her inner thighs and around Harry’s shaft, and they’re both struggling to catch their breath. Y/N feels sorry for him for a brief second when she sees him clutching onto the left side of his ribs, but then she remembers the situation that put him there in the first place and great incredible fuck she just gave him and so she decides not to dwell on it too much.

Serves him right.

She collapses on the bed beside him, the two of them staring idly at the ceiling. It’s nearly dark now, the sun having set long ago and only their silhouettes are visible in the moonlight. Harry reaches over to pet her cheek and press a kiss into her hair as their breathing slowly but surely evens out and they come to.

They’re both too tired and fucked out to have a lucid conversation, so they’ll save that for tomorrow. No. Right now was for cuddles and falling asleep to the sounds of each other’s soft breaths and the peace of mind knowing that they can do this every single night for the rest of their lives if they wanted to because they’re getting married and they have a family together and they’re so in love with each other that nothing else matters.

When Y/N finally manages to muster up the energy to lift herself from the mattress and waddle to the bathroom, Harry breaks the silence.

“Hey,” his voice is calm and collected and there’s a smirk on his face.

“Hmm?” she answers as she cranes her neck and braces herself on the door frame of the master bathroom.

Her other hand is caressing her bump, a tick that she’d picked up over the months whenever she wasn’t doing anything important.

“Sit on m’ face in the morning?”

There’s that laugh again. The one that Harry loves and swears came straight from the angels above.

“With pleasure,” she winks as the door closes behind her.

#harry styles x reader #harry styles one shot #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles smut #harry styles fluff #dad!harry x reader #dad!harry styles #dad!harry #dad!harry styles x reader #dad!harry x pregnant!reader #harry styles x pregnant!reader

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marshmellowfluff221 · 3 years

Note

So a zeke x f reader but if you do modern AU? And idk of you do NSFW but basically really fluffy sex like praise and face sitting BUT I’m a whore for rough sex too sooo-

ahehe I do write NSFW I just haven't had any ideas yet~ also sorry this is so late I write slow~

As always....MINORS DO NOT CLICK READ MORE

I'm warning you... ┬─┬ノ( º _ ºノ) I'll do it

WARNINGS: Well the stuff in the request^, uh my second time writing NSFW so plz bear with me

(｡ŏ﹏ŏ)

---------

Saturday mornings with Zeke were great. He'd bring you breakfast in bed, ask if you needed anything, clean up your guy's shared room...etc. The reason he acted so soft on Saturdays was because he had just fucked your brains out on Friday. Of course you'd be sore after he pounded into you until he was satisfied.

You didn't mind at all. Honestly you kind of begged for someone to piss him off at work just so he'd take it out on you that Friday. Somehow your prayers were always answered. He'd have that look in his eyes when he came home from work. It was almost like a predator. Sometimes you never made it to the bedroom before he had you bent over the dining table moaning his name.

After Saturday came Sunday. Sundays you always woke up in Zeke's arms. He pressed kisses all over your face as a good morning. If he was the one still asleep you'd return the favor. Then you'd go about your seperate routines, preparing everything needed for Monday and then settling down to watch some TV shows or a movie. And then came the soft Zeke once again.

Your eyes fixated on the television as the movie played. Zeke's arm lazily wrapped around your waist as you leaned against his shoulder. His fingers lightly tapped on your hips as he watched the movie as well. His eyes started to wander after a while, specifically to you.

You were the light of his life. No matter what you were doing you still looked absolutely beautiful to him. He honestly couldn't get enough of you.

Zeke's fingers stopped the tapping and instead found the waistband of your shorts. He silently slid his fingers underneath the fabric, resting his hand against your warm thigh. You hadn't been phased one bit, simply snuggling closer to his chest. He had a habit of slipping his hands underneath your clothes for more skin to skin contact so you thought nothing of it.

His thumb hooked onto the fabric as he began to rub his hand in small circles, your shorts moving as a result. You furrowed your brow, looking up at Zeke to find him already focusing on you.

"What?" You asked.

"I love you." He immediately replied, his free hand finding it's place on your cheek. Your eyes widened at his sudden affection, a heat rising up towards your face.

"Zeke- you can't just say that."

"Why not?" He asks, leaning down and pressing a kiss against your cheek. "I." He presses a kiss against your other cheek. "Love." He presses a kiss against the tip of your nose. "You."

"Stop." You pout, your arms moving up to wrap around his neck. Your hands found their way into his hair, nails scratching lightly against his scalp. "I love you too."

It was rare for this affection. With both of your busy schedules there was little time to just spend with each other. That's why these Sundays were so important to you and Zeke.

Your lips met in a soft kiss. He breathed in through his nose, his hands both on your hips as he twisted your body and pulled you to his lap. Your hands slid down to his chest, resting flatly against the firm surface. Zeke pulled back, his hands moving to rest on your thighs.

"Can I request something?" He asked, rubbing comforting circles against your skin.

You ran your hands up to his shoulders, leaning forward to peck his lips before replying, "Of course."

"I want you to sit on my face." Zeke squeezed your thighs gently before his hands slid up to your waist. You swore you heard him wrong, but his unwavering gaze let you know that he said what he said.

"Are you sure?" You asked, shifting on his lap. You felt a soft prod at your leg as you shifted, a small smile coming to your lips. "I want to take care of you too."

"No." Zeke's hands moved under your thighs, standing suddenly. You let out a yelp as you quickly wrapped your arms around his neck and legs around his waist. His hardening length was evident now that you were pressed up against it firmly. "I'm taking care of you tonight. Maybe next weekend you can repay the favor."

Zeke muttered against your ear, pressing a kiss to your neck gently as he carried you away. His teeth grazed your exposed skin. He left occasional kisses, stopping only when he reached the bedroom.

Zeke gently set you down to sit on the edge of the bed. He took a step back, a dopey smile on his lips.

"You're so beautiful." He muttered, taking a step forward and lifting your chin with his finger. He pressed a single, lingering kiss to your lips, pulling back to speak. "Take off your clothes for me."

As he spoke his lips brushed against yours. The slight touch always made you go crazy and he knew it. You nodded, grabbing the waistband of your shorts and pushing them down. Your panties followed suit, pooling on the floor. When you made no move to take off the remaining clothes Zeke shook his head.

"All of it."

You complied, lifting your shirt over your head and unclipping your bra, letting both fall to the floor. There you sat bare to Zeke. His eyes took you in hungrily, not hiding the fact that he was eager. His hand found the growing bulge on his sweats as he palmed himself through the fabric.

"Spread your legs beautiful." Zeke mutters, taking a miniscule step forward. You did as he asked, feeling a cold air hit you. A chill ran down your spine as Zeke's hands rested on your knees. He leaned forward, his nose brushing against yours. You lifted your hands, gently grabbing the glasses that sat upon his face. Zeke's eyes closed as you pulled them off, folding them. His eyes opened, half lidded, as his hand engulfed yours, grabbing the pair of glasses from you and standing up.

He says nothing as he places the glasses on the bedside table and sits himself down on the bed. As he lays down, you get the hint. You crawl over until you straddled his waist, your face hovering over his. Zeke's hands squeeze your thighs, leaning up and pressing a kiss to the tip of your nose.

"Come on." He urges. "Up here." Zeke says with a gentle nudge. You nod, placing your knees on either side of his head, reaching forward and grabbing the headboard. His hands grip your waist, positioning you over his awaiting mouth.

"Zeke are you sure-" You began to speak, but stopped as a whine crawled up your throat. Zeke suddenly pulled you down against his mouth, his lips enclosed around your clit. Your hands gripped the headboard tightly as your hips involuntary stuttered forwards. Zeke hummed, drawing a moan from your lips at the feeing.

His hands grip at your waist tightly as he guides your hips to grind down on his tounge. His fingers bite into your skin, adding to the sensation. Zeke's tounge slips past your folds, pushing through into your tight hole. He pushes and prods at all the right places.

The only sounds in the room are your moans and Zeke's tongue against your core.

"Zeke-" You moan out, tossing your head back as your hips stutter against his face. He squeezes your waist gently, urging you to let go. That was all it took for you to clamp your eyes shut and finally let the built up tension release. Your hips slowed to a gentle roll as he worked you through your orgasm. Zeke gently nudged you back. You scooted down, flopping onto the bed beside him. He sat up, pulling the grey shirt over his head and tossing it to the side. His eyes flicked over to you, watching as you breathed heavily, calming down from the previous activities. His lips turned up into a small smile as he moved to slide down his sweats.

"Have I told you how beautiful you are?" He mumbled, kicking the clothes off the side of the bed and turning to you. Your half lidded eyes glanced over to him, a small smile on your lips.

"Every day Zeke." You reply, reaching up and placing a hand on the back of his neck. He smiles, leaning down and connecting your lips again. Zeke moves slowly as to not disturb the intimate kiss. His leg nudges between yours as he moves to hover over you. His lips leave yours, trailing down to press kisses down your jaw and towards your neck. You tilt your head up to allow him more access,

"You're just..." Zeke mutters against your skin. He pulls back to get a good look at your face. "...perfect."

"Zeke..." You reach up, cupping his face. "I love you so much." A genuine smile appears on his lips. He reaches down, grabbing your legs and bringing them up to his waist. You wrap your legs around his waist, rolling your hips as you feel the tip of his cock prod at your entrance.

"I love you too Y/n." He mutters, gripping your hips as he slowly pushes in. His eyes stay on your face. No matter how many times he has been inside of you, you always scrunch up your face adorably. Zeke lets out a low grunt as he settles inside you. He leans back down, his nose brushing against yours.

"You feel so good." Zeke mutters, a soft sigh leaving his lips as you roll your hips against his. You mutter a low 'move' and he does. His pace is slow, but at the moment you don't particularly care. It's the closeness you have at the moment that makes your heart swell with love.

Zeke drops his head down to your shoulder, keeping the same pace. Your hand finds his hair, running your fingers through lightly. His hot breath fanned over your neck as your light moans filled the room. Slowly, but surely, his pace began to pick up as both of you drew near. Your soft pants turned louder as his hips suddenly snapped against yours. Your grip on his hair tightened as he held you tightly, his fingernails biting your skin gently.

"Zeke." You muttered out between moans. He grunted in response, feeling you tighten around him.

"Come on." He grunted. "You can do it baby." Zeke lifted his head from your neck to get a good look at your face. He loved your expressions more than anything. As you reached your end and clenched around him, he worked you through your orgasm as he chased his own. His hips stuttered against yours as he buried himself deep inside of you as he came.

Your heavy breaths filled the room as he slowly pulled out and flopped down beside you.

"We should shower." Zeke breathes out, reaching over and pushing the hair from your face. "We have work early tomorrow." He pressed a light kiss to the tip of your nose.

#aot x reader #aot zeke #zeke yeager #zeke x reader #zeke aot #attack on titan zeke #zeke smut #aot smut

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malrieoni · 2 years

Text

My Teacher Karen is trying to steal my Alpha Dad from me.

**(Plz. Take note that this is a fan fic)**

Tags: Omegavers, Overwatch, Mchanzo?, Hole 🤣, YeHan, Hanzo Shimada, Cole Cassdiy

The Characters before we begin:

AD: my Alpha Dad (he's from Texas BTW)

OD: my Omega Dad (from Japan)

I/Me: for Me

TK: for Teacher Karen

Teacher Karen who's basically mean to me for reasons that I don't even know. (I'm still in middle school mind you so yeah.) TK always belittle me when some of my answers are wrong, and even announced it to class. Also made fun of the clothes I wear that day. Sometimes even mock me for being half Asian and even made fun of my looks for having a slanted eyes (My eyes are not even slanted). Even told my classmates to do the same. Thank goodness not all of my classmates do what TK said as they're my classmates since elementary, they just find it weird as to why she even do that. I cried in my bed everytime I got home and TK is the reason why I don't like going to school. I don't know why she even bully me ? I behave well in class, always pass my assignments and have good grades straight A's in other subjects but except TK's subject. I have a feeling that TK is purposely writing C- or F on my grades. This upsets me as I always pass my assignments.

I actually had it with TK's BS and secretly recorded everything that she did. And waited for the right moment. Yes, this is the stuff I learned from reading too much reddit 🤣.

Until my Alpha Dad came to pick me up at school and he had a chat with TK and I had some suspicion. TK talks flirty with AD and I can't brush it off. I had to talk AD about what he think about TK. I kid you not according to AD, TK said "I was a delinquent in school, always skipping classes and bullying other students". And I just broke down crying cause no wonder AD looks at me all upset sometimes and never told me why. I told AD everything even showed him the recording cause that B*** already ruined school for me and I don't want her to ruin my relationship with my parents as well. AD was actually happy that I was honest and he's not mad. He's even glad that I opened up to him, AD told me to keep this a secret to Omega Dad as he doesn't want him to be upset too, so I keep quiet about it.

Also AD opened up about his experience with TK as she was nice to him at first but then he noticed her being flirty as time went on. What's worse is that AD got nudes and text messages "she wants him" from TK and that time they were talking to each other, AD is actually reminding TK that he's married. AD also talked with a lawyer about this and told that to keep records of everything as not just texts messages being sent but calls as well, honestly AD is actually annoyed at TK even calling him at work. As the records might be helpful to file a restraining order on her. AD also told me that, the recording might be helpful in calling TK to the principal's office. He's trying to solve this on his own and he doesn't want OD to get worried. For now me and AD are keeping this a secret.

There might be an update on this so yeah. I'll see how this pan out.

#overwatch #cole #cole cassidy #hanzo shimada #omegaverse #hole #mchanzo #?#hanzo #yeehan #hainoon #a/b/o #a/b/o fic #a/b/o au #a/b/o fanfic

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wilhelmjfink · 3 years

Note

Drabbles 24. and 27. for Daryl please(づ￣ ³￣)づ i love the way you write btw ♥️

disclaimer I have no idea what’s been going on for the last like 4 seasons of TWD so I make up my own scenarios for good stories and drabbles lmfao 👉��😎👉🏻 zing

Also remember when I said “drabbles?” I meant “one shots” cuz I have no self control.

ALSO SHOUT OUT TO THE FUCKIN @thewritingdoll FOR TEACHING ME HOW TO ‘READ MORE’ ON MOBILE!!!!

—

You felt the first rain drop hit the top of your head, right onto your forehead and fall down to the tip of your nose and you wiped it frantically because god dammit if he thought you were crying. You knew the water works would start soon enough, but you’d fight it as long as you could. Theatricals didn’t mean anything to Daryl… and apparently you didn’t either.

He had stopped walking at least, his back to you, still as he waited for… what? This wasn’t the first time he walked away from you, but something heavy in your chest told you it may actually be the last time. Regardless, nothing you’d said ever seemed to get through to him — at least, in the midst of an argument. Maybe later he’d come back with his tail between his legs and his eyes low, biting his thumbnail nervously as he fumbled over the right thing to say.

But right now, where you stood at this moment in time, it was different. The rain was beginning to pick up and you watched the droplets roll off of the carbon limbs of his crossbow and suspend themselves, frozen in time, before falling to the ground.

You swallowed nervously, hoping your voice would sound more confident than you were feeling: “So, what are you waiting for?”

At first he didn’t respond, didn’t move, and you held your breath when he did finally shoot a quick glance over his shoulder at you before shifting his weight almost impatiently. “I dunno. You usually have some sort of dramatic, ‘what about us?’ speech ya spew before I try ‘n leave.”

“So you are leaving.”

“We’ll, I ain’t stayin’ here, that’s for damn sure.”

“But couldn’t you even bother to say ‘goodbye’? Am I not even worth that to you? Are we not worth that to you? A fucking goodbye in the very least?”

Nothing.

You took a deep breath. “So, that’s it?”

He could read you like a book with his eyes closed and a bag over your head. You desperately tried to remain stoic, but he could clearly hear the shift in your voice — and as if you weren’t upset enough, he let you know this all with an exasperated sigh.

“Here we go…”

You let out a sharp bark of laughter, disguising the much sharper pain in your chest at his words. “Oh! Okay, my fucking bad, Daryl. My bad I can’t just throw away everything I’ve worked so hard on like you can. Sorry I can’t just turn off my emotions and stroll the fuck out of somebody’s life — somebody I know loves me — or, at least, used to, I guess. Maybe? Maybe not even. Guess it don’t matter now though, huh?”

Okay, you’re rambling. You’re trying to dig yourself out of a hole that Daryl is standing over, toeing back in each load of dirt you shovel out onto him.

But why was he still standing there? Why hadn’t he stormed off yet, like he always did when you argued? It worried you, deep down to the core of your being; you weren’t sure why, but you had a hunch it was because before, he always came back. And he always knew he’d come back. But he stood there quietly, waiting, silent. Your hands balled into fists at your side.

“You’re pathetic!”

There you go. You got your anger out, sort of — whatever it was, it got through to him. He whipped around furiously, and you could tell by the way he stiffened, the way he got so angry that you were finally getting through to him. And if he still decided to leave? Fine. You’d let him go. You’d left your scratch marks, and you didn’t want anybody who didn’t want you anyway.

“Pathetic? Yeah? Maybe I am, Y/N! And if I am, that’s fine — I don’t give a damn what you think. I don’t deserve to be loved. Not by anybody; definitely not by someone like you. You’ll be fuckin’ fine, alright? So just… figure it out!”

He might as well have slapped you across the face.

You still silently, the rain finally picking up, a nice dramatic scene set for this Lifetime movie argument. Did you even hear home right?

“Daryl, I….”

“Save it,” he bit out in response. And, there it was — he spun on his heels away from you and your heart lodged into your throat. “Just… save it, alright?”

This time, though, you stepped after him. “D, wait, please — “

“You’ll be fine,” he threw over his shoulder at you. The words almost formed a wall, halting you in your tracks. Was it the harshness or them? The certainty that you would be fine without him? It was almost comical — did he really think you’d be okay without him?

Daryl, at least, had a stuffed back pack slung over his shoulders beside his crossbow. You, alternatively, had nothing. But that didn’t stop you as you picked up a jog against your better judgement, trying to keep up with his long strides as he stormed away from the main gate silently.

If this was the time he decided to try and leave for good, fine. But you would not be left behind… whether he liked or or not.

“I don’t care if we didn’t mean anything to you,” you announced as you caught up to him breathlessly. He didn’t respond. “You meant something to me, and you’re not fucking leave me behind.”

—

@crossbowking @julesmalek I restarted my tag list bc it’s been so long and I’m such trash. If you want added plz message me lol

#the walking dead #daryl dixon #daryl dixon fanfiction #the walking dead fanfiction #twd #twd daryl #the walking dead daryl #norman reedus #norman reedus x reader #daryl dixon x reader

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madlymiho · 3 years

Note

Mihooooo 🙈 can I have angst plz? Mihawk and Shanks learn they have lost the love of their life and they are too far away to make the journey to their funeral 😞 I luv the way you write angst, I hope I will make to your box

Anon, omg, don’t you know that I LIVE AND DIE for angst moment?? I’m already sorry because I’ll try to break you hurt into pieces with this one! Thank you for requesting this! Hopefully you will enjoy it! 🖤

I’m just going with their emotions and reactions, I hope it’s okay anon!

Shanks

• It’s the moment he has always feared. Something he’s terrified to experience one more time. A deep wound he feels right into his heart, and something he’s clearly not sure to handle. He has always been afraid of the day he will lose someone he deeply cares about, the agonizing pain coming back like a terrible old friend, just like the day he lost his captain, Gol D Roger

• Even though, this time, the pain is much stronger than expected. It feels like an empty hole, scratching the deepest part of his soul and bones, pouring acid onto his organs, as he doesn’t know what to do, nor how to react. The news came out of nowhere, a sudden whisper telling him that you’re gone forever, and you’re too far for him to save you

• But Shanks is master in hiding his real emotions. A master in tricks and masks, somehow a good way for him to ignore those terrible feelings he’s unable to face. Learning about your death is awful, so hurtful, but when he faces it, Shanks doesn’t cry, doesn’t scream... He only nods, severe eyes peering down at whoever brought him the news, pinching his lips for a second

• For sure, he wishes that he could find a way to make the trip to your funerals, studying the maps of the seas during hours, even if, yes, he understands at some point that it won’t be possible, he can’t make it. Somehow he accepts the fact he won’t be there to say goodbye properly, and for that, well, he only knows one way to honor a person

• Shanks decides to throw the biggest party on his ship he has ever done before. Boozes, meats, fruits, everything is there to have for his mates, and strangers who are curious enough to clim onto the deck of his ship, to celebrate a life of wonders, happiness, and warm moments

• For hours, he drinks, he jokes, he sings, he acts quite like usual, ignoring the raging pain hidden under his smile, and the fact that celebrating in this moment feels so wrong. Yet, he keeps going, over, and over again, until no one would follow his infernal pace anymore, until all of his friends and those strangers begin to sit down somewhere, looking at the stars, floating in a second stateas they are too drunk to continue

• For a moment, it bothers Shanks, because the party can’t stop. The party has to continue! They all need to get up, and dance, and sing, and smoke, because as soon as the party would be over... Shanks eventually feels dizzy, grabbing the rail of the boat to keep his balance, as he finds himself unable to hide his feelings anymore... Because he lost you... God, it’s true... he lost you...

• Shanks eventually surrenders to his real emotions, acid tears falling down his cheeks, as he’s unable to even stand on his feet, his knees hitting the wood of the deck. He’s shaking, he wants to vomit, he feels so cold and desperate, because the party is over... your party is over... and he hasn’t been able to save you. He has always promised himself to save you from everything, and as you needed him the most, you died, and he wasn’t there...

• Bitter tears can’t stop falling as Shanks eventually begins to understand that you’re forever gone, his crewmates silently gathering around him, watching from a far distance the moment he would collapse. They all knew it was a matter of time before Shanks would eventually realize the agony of his sorrow, all of them heartbroken to see how miserable their captain is, and how much they will miss you all

• For sure, Benn Beckman is the one who will hug Shanks, strongly, promising him that their next trip would be to visit your grave, and that he has all the reasons in the world to be a mess right now. Shanks nods, grabs his collar and keeps crying, hiccups escaping his throat, screams of pain sometimes escorting his broken voice, unable to imagine that the day he has always feared finally happened...

Mihawk

• He has never really thought about that potential day. Well, not that way for sure. Life and death are two faces of the same coin, something inevitable for sure. It’s a part of the journey of life, and it has been something Mihawk has always accepted. He’s not afraid to cross the veil of death, accepting it as an old friend, almost certain that he would be the one to disappear first

• But today, that call on his Den Den Mushi has been quite unexpected, unwelcome and unusual. He heard your name, and then something he wasn’t prepared to hear. You’re gone. The sentence has been so quick, and quiet, that he didn’t know if the meaning of this phonecall was truly about your death or just something really different, almost casual

• It leaves him completely abashed, a least for perhaps two seconds, before he eventually collects himself and masters his emotions. Because Mihawk doesn’t really know how to react, he has never been prepared to receive that kind of news in the first place, and frankly, he’s not the type of man to reveal what are his deepest thoughts

• So instead of having a strong reaction, Mihawk simply sits back in front the fireplace, grabbing his glass of wine back, his golden eyes staring at the flames dancing in front of him. He doesn’t have any emotion, doesn’t need to express his sorrow, it’s like he’s completely numb and detached from the reality, just sitting there, unable to have a normal behavior to this atrocious tragedy

• For a moment, Mihawk is continuing his life as if nothing happened. You’re gone, but he’s used to have you away. You have always had this relationship together, enjoying the moment when you could meet somewhere but having a distance between the two of you most of the time. Perhaps he will never grieve... Perhaps it’s a part of his own character to react the way he does, it doesn’t bother him really much... He tends to accept the way people lives after all

• Yet, the more time passes, and the more something bothers him. When he wishes to share a good bottle of wine, and brings two glasses in the livingroom, he suddenly remembers your absence. When he finishes a beautiful reading, he wants to offer you the book for you to give your opinion and debate for hours. When he sees red roses blooming during warm days, he has the intention to collect them to hand you a bouquet, and when he paints landscapes in front of his window, he only thinks about the shapes of your body, the intensity of your stare, and that floating smile you had whenever you posed for him...

• All those familiar activities have a bitter taste now, because each time he wants to do something, Mihawk remembers that they feel cruelly empty when you’re not around. Your absence begins to take a huge place in his life. The food doesn’t have the same taste, the music doesn’t echoe within him, the nature isn’t that beautiful... There’s something missing, and Mihawk understands soon enough that you’re definitely that missing part of his life

• So after all... Yes, he’s grieving you in his own way. He celebrates you in his own way as well, as he even creates a mausoleum to always have you close from him. Because Mihawk finally gets it, after months of your absence... Keeping you far from him has been is most tragic mistake. He wishes he could rewrite your story, and find a way to keep you safe and sound, just for the food to have the same taste, just for the music to bring emotions, just for the world to have some colors...

#one piece headcanons #one piece imagines #one piece writing #Red Hair Shanks #dracule mihawk #shanks one piece #mihawk one piece #hawkeye mihawk #red haired shanks #shanks #one piece fanfiction #one piece fic #angst #one piece angst #angst scenario #angst headcanons #anonymous request #queued

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bloodypapercut · 3 years

Text

anyone else but you (g.w. x reader)

instead of paying attention in french class i wrote this so i hope you beautiful people enjoy <3 :) plz take care of yourselves (also this is inspired by the song anyone else but you by the moldy peaches)

(requests are open)

word count: 1.4k

It must have been 3 in the morning, the sky was still a mixture of deep indigo and blue hues with speckles of glimmering stars. The castle grounds stood still; nothing but the incessant pattering of raindrops against the windows, the howling winds, and the occasional sonorous crack of thunder and lightning could be heard. Sitting up Y/N rubbed her eyes and stretched her jaw, an attempt to rid the disoriented state one usually finds themselves in upon waking up. Though the exhaustion from writing long essays and reading from tedious textbooks possessed her, the likeliness of falling back into slumber was unlikely. Draping a blanket over her shoulders, she took light and apprehensive steps to avoid the cries of the walnut floorboards under the weight. The warmth of the dorm proved to be insufficient, so she steadily paced to the door and gently pushed it open, yearning to sit by the common room fire.

The room was desolate, much to her relief. She approached the fireplace and with the flick of her wand a gleaming flame engulfed the wood logs. The clamor from the weather outside slowly faded and was overtaken by the crackling flames. The ambiance served as a great sense of comfort against the storm, but Y/N grew bored of just sitting there. Her eyes danced around the expanse of the highly decorated room in an attempt to find something that could serve as a source of entertainment. Leaning against one of the chess tables was a mahogany acoustic guitar. Muttering 'accio' the guitar was summoned to her grasp and the chords of ‘Anyone Else but You' by The Moldy Peaches resonated softly. The simple chord progression repeated until the words started to flow from her mouth, her eyes closing in the process.

“You’re a part time lover and a full time friend

The monkey on your back is the latest trend

I don’t see what anyone can see in anyone else

But you”

The lyrics were sweet and innocent, it perfectly described how she felt. They never failed to bring a bashful grin to her face because it reminded her of a goofy ginger boy, her best friend. His vehement laughter echoing through the halls whenever they ran from Filch. The feeling of his slightly clammy hand that she gripped so ardently, to make sure she didn't fall behind. The freckles sprinkled on his flushed cheeks. The tranquil air he brought to any room he stepped into. His sense of humor, that left anyone in his wake gasping for air and wiping away tears. Everything about his being distracted Y/N from what was right in front of her. It embarrassed her knowing that she had all these fantasies of being with him, that would probably never happen. Daydreams occupied her head almost every second. She was so busy indulging in her wishes that she failed to register the languorous footsteps growing louder from the other end of the room.

As George descended the steps a melody so pure and delightful sounded from in front of the fireplace. It was familiar and warm, something he wishes he could bottle up and keep with him everywhere he went. The figure leaning over the spruce instrument, strumming leisurely on the ornate persian carpet came into view. It was Y/N, upon this realization, he felt himself falling harder for her.

“Didn’t know you could sing so well angel.” Y/N nearly let the guitar tumble out of her grasp.

“George, you git! You frightened me, I nearly caught a death.” Her hushed berating was the catalyst to him giggling as he got closer to her.

“Going to the kitchens, want something?”

“The usual.” He winked as he rushed out the portrait hole, swiftly surveying his surroundings before dashing to the left.

Within a mere 15 minutes, George had returned, balancing two plates in his hands. He placed a treacle tart in front of her, smiling wholesomely whilst sitting down.

“I liked the song you were playing earlier.”

“Yeah?”

“Teach me how to play it.” He wiggled his eyebrows and grabbed the guitar from her grip, placing it delicately in his lap.

“Well, there are only 2 chords, it’s quite simple just start with a G, so bar the 3rd fret, yeah there. Okay, then place your middle finger on the 3rd string from the bottom on the 4th, and then those two there.” She softly manipulated the position of his fingers, urging him to press harder on the 3rd fret. His hand was warm and she let her touch linger on him for longer than needed, just to savor it. Unknownst to her, the sensation of his skin against hers was the most pleasant thing on earth, he would let her bruise him if it meant he’d get to feel her touch.

“Then just put your fingers there to play a C major 7, that’s it. Now you can play.”

“I don’t know when to strum.” Y/N tried to explain but after several failed attempts, and George having trouble with playing the barred G, Y/N ended up behind him, guiding his arms and hands manually. The contact sending immediate chills throughout their bodies. The feeling of her chest pressed against his back was something he always wished to materialize, something he thought would only happen in his dreams, but here he was living it out. When the strums came naturally she slowly let go but continued to rest her cheek against his shoulder. As she started singing the first verse, the atmosphere turned intimate, almost fragile. He was plagued by her voice, it made him see color, it held him in a tight embrace, it clouded his vision, everything was Y/N and Y/N only.

“I kiss you on the brain in the shadow of a train

I kiss you all starry eyed, my body’s swinging from side to side

I don’t see what anyone can see in anyone else

But you”

As George finished his verse he looked over his shoulder, admiring how she looked with shut eyes, her eyelashes casting shadows on her cheeks. The way her lips moved to produce the beautiful noises ringing in his ears.

“Here is the church and here is the steeple

We sure are cute for two ugly people

I don’t see what anyone can see in anyone else

But you”

It was George’s turn to sing but he remained silent. His eyes remained on her serene face, soaking in every detail. He was convinced that she was the most precious and delicate thing to ever exist, that nothing could ever match the beauty Y/N possessed. At this point they weren’t singing together, they were reciting the lyrics to one another. It was an unashamed declaration of their love. Their shared desires for their friendship to become something more were now palpable. They made direct eye contact, both of them craning their necks in semi-uncomfortable positions, they didn’t mind.

“Did you forget the lyrics?” She muttered, trying to ease the tension.

“No, I just-” He cut himself off because in one swift motion he pushed the guitar on his lap aside, turned over, and kissed her ardently. She tensed up upon realizing what was happening but as he deepened the kiss she let herself relax and thread her fingers through his hair. Her eyelashes fluttered against his cheeks, and the contrast of his slightly chapped lips against her pillowy ones was something he’d never get tired of. She pulled him closer and straddled his lap, wanting to be engulfed by his physical touch. They transferred all their pent-up emotions into the kiss. Minutes had passed and they pulled apart slowly after Y/N started to giggle making George bite her bottom lip playfully. Even after parting they still held each other tightly, keeping their foreheads against each other and their arms caging the other's body. They sat in a blissful silence, letting the sound of their breathing and George’s occasional sigh of disbelief pierce it.

“Did we just?” She nodded, pushing the tendrils of ginger hair off his forehead.

“Georgie?”

“Yeah?”

“Keep singing, I like your voice.”

“Only if you play.” Kissing him on the cheek she turned around on his lap to lean her back against his chest.

George continued singing, the strumming started to slow down and Y/N’s head started to become heavy against his shoulder. When the music reverberating from the instrument came to a complete stop he looked over to see her peacefully sleeping. With a smile, he lifted her delicately, placed her on the couch, and hugged her body close. When her body shifted he panicked, only for her to turn around and face him.

“I love you, Georgie.” She muttered after kissing the side of his mouth. When he remained speechless, his face baffled, she laughed and buried her head in his chest.

“And yes I really mean it.”

“Merlin, I love you too, so so much.” He truly couldn’t imagine anyone else in his arms, he wasn’t certain about much but he knew it would always be her and only her.

#george weasley #george weasley headcanon #george wealsey imagine #george wealsey x reader #george weasley fanfiction #george weasley fluff #george weasley fic #harry potter #weasley twins

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sub-hoshi-enthusiast · 4 years

Note

I’m back with another idea!!😆😆 could you do sth like overstim/degradation with a hint of manhandling for Hyunjin or Changbin?? Plz and thank you❤️❤️

I know that this one took awhile so I'm sorry for the long wait but I hope you like it! I decided to write it for Changbin since I haven't written anything for him yet and I already have something for Hyunjin.

⚠️Warnings⚠️: sub!Changbin, fem!dom!reader, mommy kink, degradation, overstimulation, a hint of manhandling, use of toys (vibrating plug), masturbation, and a lil bit of spanking.

See You at Home~

If you could use one word to describe yourself in this moment, it would be bored. Very bored. You had finished up everything you needed to do for the day and most everything you needed for tomorrow. Even so, you still had to sit in a boring, empty, office, waiting for someone to finish doing some paperwork to run up to you. The room itself was nice and spacious with a large window as the back wall so you had the perfect view of the city as well as a small wall of books (one that you had specifically requested to be put in). For some reason though, you just didn't feel like reading today, so you decided to watch some interviews of your boyfriend and his bandmates instead.

You were giggling at a random comment when a texting notification popped up on your screen. You smiled to yourself as you saw who it was. Speak of the devil. You had forgotten that Changbin was free for the day so you didn't text him, thinking you wouldn't get a reply. You tilted your head in slight confusion as you saw what he had sent you. It was a video that was about a minute long, sent with the simple message 'Make sure you're wearing headphones ;)'. The thumbnail was just a black screen so you couldn't tell what it was about.

You opened one of your desk drawers, pulling out a pair of headphones and plugging them into your phone. A few seconds into the video and your mouth went dry as a whimper filled your ears. He was face down in your bedsheets, facing the camera with his ass in the air. He had moved your body mirror so you could clearly see the vibrating buttplug he had shoved in his hole. One hand was desperately clutching the sheets next to him as the other pumped his cock, which you also noticed had a cockring around it. He was whimpering and whining into the mic, making arousal shoot through your body at the submissive sounds that flooded your ears.

"M-mommy~! Ngh- I missed you s-so much. I've been teasing myself for s-o long so I could be hard for you when y-you got home, but…" his words trailed off as he bit his already swollen lips. "I really wanna cum mommy! A-ah- it just feels too damn good!" You gripped your phone harder, knuckles turning white as you stare intently at the screen. He sat up, whimpering as the plug pushed deeper inside of him from the action and slowly removed the cockring. As soon as the object had been removed, he began stroking his cock at a much faster pace than he had before. "AH! Ohh- I've been thinking about you all day mommy! T-thinking about you p-pounding me into the mattress as I scr-eam for you! Oh god! Want you to t-tie me up and use me! Use me like I'm your own personal t-toy! Ngh- Oh god! - Cum! Cumming! G-gonna - A-AH!" You bit your lip as you watched his body tense up before thick ropes of white covered his hand and his stomach. He slowed down his strokes before stopping completely, giggling cutely as he grabbed the remote for the plug to turn it off. "See ya at home mommy~." He said before blowing a kissing to the camera and the screen went black.

You stared blankly at the screen in front of you for a few minutes, clutching it tightly as thousands of thoughts clouded your mind. You snapped back to reality after you heard a small knock on the wooden doors to your office. You took out your earbuds, setting your phone down as you called for whoever it was to enter. Your secretary opened the door, arms full of paperwork. With the files secure in your office, that was your que to leave.

Changbin was standing in the kitchen, heating up popcorn for your weekly movie night when you walked in. The door slammed behind you, making him jump in surprise. A wide grin spread across his face as soon as he saw you, shuttering as he saw the dark look in your eyes.

"Welcome home mommy! I was just working on-" He cut himself off with a quiet gasp as you slammed him against the counter, his back digging into the marble as you pressed your body to his.

"What the hell was that? Did you think you were being cute?" You asked in a deep, raspy voice that you knew he loved. He shyly looked to the floor, the tips of his ears turning a bright red.

"I-I'm sorry mommy." He claimed, but you could see the small smile making its way onto his face. You gripped his thighs tightly, making him whimper. You quickly spun him around, gripping his hair tightly and bending him over. He whined loudly, squirming in your grip as you landed a harsh slap to his ass. You pulled down his pants and boxers, ready to spank him again when you noticed something. Anger flared in you as you saw that he was still wearing the plug from the video. You yanked his head up by his hair so you could growl in his ear.

"So this is how it's gonna be, huh? What the hell has gotten into you? Usually you're so good for me Binnie, what happened?" He bit his lip with a whimper, turning his eyes to look at you.

"I-I - It's just - you haven't fucked me in so long! I just wanted to get mommy's attention." He whined out, squirming in your grip. You scoffed at his answer. He was kidding right?

"If I remember correctly baby, I fucked you a little over a week ago, didn't I? Are you really such a filthy cockslut you can't go that long without mommy's cock pounding into you?" He moaned, grinding his hips back into yours.

"Y-yes mommy! I-I'm such a slut for you! I can't live without mommy's cock destroying me! Please mommy~!" Your hand that wasn't in his hair gripped his hip tightly to stop them from grinding into you, making him whine. You pushed his head down so his cheek was pressed against the cold countertop.

"I'm gonna go grab something, so don't move or I'm not gonna even think about touching you." He whined in slight aggravation as you disappeared but stayed still nonetheless. You weren't surprised to see most of your toys laid out on the bed already. You rolled your eyes, picking up the control for the plug, taking your time with putting away the other toys your boyfriend had laid out. You smiled once you had entered, happy to see Changbin still bent over the counter where you left him.

"So you can listen?" He nodded enthusiastically, turning to look at you.

"Wanna be a good boy for mommy." You had to hold back from laughing at his statement.

"I think it's too late for that baby." You hummed, twirling the remote in your hand before turning it to the lowest setting. Changbin shuttered, whimpering at the sensation. You smirked at his reaction, pushing his thin t-shirt farther up his back so you could press open mouthed kisses up his spine. You bit down on the base of his spine, leaving a mark as you reached for the ring at the base of the plug. A loud whine left his lips when you pulled it out slightly, but was immediately followed by a gasp as you harshly thrusted it back into him. Submissive noises continued to flow from his lips as you harshly thrusted the plug in and out of him. He suddenly let out a loud gasp followed by a high pitched moan.

"O-Oh fuck! Mommy! R-right there!" He whimpered as his arms reached out to grab anything, eventually deciding on gripping the opposite edge of the counter. You smirked down at him, chuckling at his disheveled state.

"What's the matter Binnie? You were so confident in your little video earlier, so what's the problem?" He whined, squirming against the counter as his thighs started to shake from how close he was to his release.

"I-I'm sorry m-mommy! I- AH - I-I really am! Mommy! I w-wanna cum! N-need to cum so bad!" You raised your eyebrow, scoffing at his statement.

"You need to? But you came earlier, didn't you? I remember you cumming all over my sheets like a filthy slut because you couldn't wait for me to get home." You growled down at him, digging your nails into the flesh of his hips. He whimpered loudly, trying to grind back into the toy.

"Please mommy! I-I'll be good for you from now on! Promise!" He whined, turning his head so he could look back at you with a pleading look in his eyes. You rolled your eyes before smirking and moving your other hand to play with his tip. You leaned over him so you could whisper in his ear.

"Go ahead baby, cum for mommy." He came while a mantra of 'thank you's left him. He let out a breath of exhaustion before whimpering once your hands didn't slow their movements. His eyes widened in realization.

"W-wait, mommy!" He whined, squirming to get away from your hands. You removed your hand from his dick to spank him once, making him whimper.

"Stay still. I thought you said you were gonna be a good boy for mommy." His whimpers turned to loud moans as the pain from the overstimulation drifted into pleasure. You snickered when you noticed him grinding back into your hands. "I thought you wanted me to stop, baby." He shook his head violently, whimpering as he felt a knot build up in his belly.

"D-don't stop! Please d-don't stop! F-feels so good!" You leaned over him again, pressing your breasts to his back as you bit and sucked marks onto his neck. He was so focused on the pleasure he was receiving, he didn't notice that you moved one of your hands until he felt the vibrations from the plug suddenly shoot up. You smirked at his surprised gasps and whines as you switched the plug to max, stopping the thrusts to press it directly against his prostate. He babbled incoherently as the pleasure overtook his body, his sudden orgasm hitting him hard. His jaw fell open in a silent moan as his release covered the underside of the counter. You pressed the plug into him harder, making another spurt of cum shoot out of his tip before turning the toy off and carefully pulling it out of him. You removed his shirt so you could clean up the counter before pulling his pants and boxers the rest of the way off so you could clean them later.

His body twitched slightly when you removed the plug. His mind was fuzzy and he couldn't even think about where he was until he felt his warm sheets around him. He hadn't even realized you had cleaned him up and moved him to the bedroom. You smiled at him, pushing some of his hair out of his face before bringing him into a sweet kiss. He smiled against your lips, pushing himself as close to you as he could. You cupped his face in your hands as you pulled away to look at him.

"Are you alright baby?" He smiled at your concern before nodding, burying his face in your neck.

"I'm fine." You let out a small sigh of relief as you pulled him closer to you.

"Good. You can always tell me if I go too far y'know. I don't want to hurt you too bad." He looked up at you, pressing a few kisses to your jawline.

"I know you would never hurt me like that. I trust you." He mumbled. Your heart warmed at his statement and you kissed the top of his head.

"I love you baby." All you got in return was a quiet snore, making you giggle before closing your eyes and drifting to sleep.

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preciouspeterbparker · 3 years

Text

the warmest bed i’ve ever known

finally got this bitch finished!

based on “tis the damn season” by taylor swift. i was also listening to the phoebe bridgers cover of “christmas song”, “last christmas” cover by pale waves (recorded @ spotify), and “home alone, too” by the staves

also this is only my 2nd time writing starker so lmk what you think plz?

happy holidays! - bloo

word count: 6.07k. this was intended to basically be a porny blurb...instead there’s so much fucking plot it’s probably overwhelming and minimal porn. i’m sorry

warnings: angst, depression & anxiety, drug use (that good kush ft some hotboxing & shotgunning), smut, character death (not tony or peter), tony’s kind of country lmao. despite all the aforementioned things, there is in fact a happy ending!

summary: peter makes the trip back home for christmas and once again finds himself caught up in deep brown eyes and a charming smile. tis the damn season.

Peter had forgotten how cold New York winters were. He’d grown used to the year-long warmth of Los Angeles. He supposed the cold was appropriate- it was as if the weather was in cahoots with the solid, frigid thing that was sitting in the pit of his stomach. The last time he’d spent Christmas in Aurora, the last time he’d seen him… Tony.

Just thinking the other man’s name made Peter flex his hands anxiously as he slid out of the driver’s seat of his black Mercedes AMG GT into the amber glow of the streetlight, gently shutting the door closed behind him, still in the overly cautious period of owning the new car. He wondered what Tony would think of it. Last time Peter had come home, he was still driving May’s old Subaru. It’d been almost 2 years to the day, now, which felt like both a century and no time at all. He wished it wasn’t so hard. He wished they hadn’t been caught in this song & dance for so long. It seemed like no matter how good Peter’s intentions, it always came down to one thing: he was so damn scared. He always ran away, no matter how badly he wanted to stay.

Scuffing a boot through the slush in the street, the brunette straightened his shoulders and made his way toward the brick building, a quick smile quirking half his mouth up as he read the neon red sign above the closed garage door. Stark’s. Memories came flooding back, the countless nights he spent cooped up in the little shop during high school, sketching elaborate ensembles and daydreaming about having his very first collection while surrounded by the smell of motor oil and the sounds of tinkering. The bell above the door jingled merrily as Peter stepped through and wiped his feet on the mat. The pleasant sound of Frank Sinatra crooning the words of “The Christmas Waltz” met his ears. Another small smile flitted over Peter’s face. That was something that tended to happen when he was around Tony.

“Just a second,” came the slightly muffled voice, a little strained. The man in question was bent over, headfirst in the engine of his old 1979 Chevy C10, the one he’d gotten senior year of highschool. The collar of a heather grey henley peeked out from under a deep red and green plaid flannel stretched over his shoulders as he leaned a little further under the hood, using a wrench to tighten what looked to be a lugnut to Peter from his spot by the door, too nervous to go further inside.

“I can wait,” Peter replied softly, trying not to stare at Tony’s jean-clad ass and anxious of the older boy man’s reaction. (It looked like Tony had done a lot of growing up over the past two years, no longer the boy he remembered. Peter supposed the same could be said about himself in a way, though he wasn’t sure if it was for better or worse.)

And apparently he was right to be cautious.

Tony promptly smacked his head on the underside of the hood as he jerked upright at the sound of Peter’s voice. “Fuck.” Moving more carefully, Tony stood upright and turned around, his dark eyes wide. “Peter,” he said, visibly and audibly surprised. To be honest, it hurt Peter a little bit, how surprised he sounded. Maybe coming here was a mistake. Did they not do this nearly every year over the past seven? Had- Oh god, had something changed? Fuck, did Tony finally get tired of- Had he found-

Peter resolutely cut that train of thought off before he could panic. “Hi, Tony.” He swallowed drily, making eye contact for a moment, before casting his eyes away only for them to make their way back to the open face in front of him. “Think you have time for a quick bite to eat?” He slipped his left hand into the pocket of the new, warm wool coat he bought expressly for this trip. “It’s almost dinner time. And I have a treat,” he intoned, tapping his right pointer and middle fingers against his lips.

Tony beamed and immediately reached for a shop rag to wipe his hands, the black grease and oil smearing on the probably-used-to-be-white-at-some-point fabric. One of those hands came up to scratch at his facial hair, a new addition that made something simmer deep in Peter’s gut. The older man's brown eyes twinkled as he paused to glance at Peter. “You had me at ‘hi, Tony.’” He then proceeded to move about the shop, swiping his phone from atop a chest of metal drawers, Sinatra’s voice coming to an abrupt stop. He pulled on his old lined jean jacket (the one Peter was constantly mending in high school; now it just had small tears in some places, and what appeared to be Tony’s d-i-y patchwork in others). The sign on the front door was flipped to ‘closed’ and Tony pulled a keyring from his belt loop, locking it and flicking off the lights. The streetlights outside the building and the colorful holiday lights strung along the edge of the roof provided just enough light for them to be able to clearly see each other, the sun having set early, around four o’clock. Peter had forgotten about that as well.

He moved to grab his car keys from a pocket but Tony spoke up, patting the dark green paint of his truck’s hood and walking over to the garage door. His hand hovered over the button that would open it. “Actually, I just finished giving Delilah a tuneup, mind if we take ‘er for a spin?”

“Sure,” Peter agreed without hesitation, still feeling relieved (and grateful) that his invitation was accepted.

Tony pushed his palm against the button and paused to do a double-take after the metal door lifted completely. His eyebrows rose at the sight of Peter’s car parked in the small lot beside the shop. “Damn, L.A.. Not worried about your fancy new car?” His tone was slightly teasing, but there was a bit of shock mixed with something else as well, and it caused Peter to go hot, feeling insecure. (What if Tony didn’t like who Peter was, now? Peter didn’t exactly like who he was now.) Tony must’ve noticed his discomfort, because he cracked a grin and bumped his shoulder against Peter’s as he made his way to the driver’s side, yanking the door open. “C’mon, Parker, ‘m just fuckin’ with you. Hop in - how’da some burgers from Delmar’s an’ a trip out to the field sound?”

***

They grabbed food from the hole-in-the-wall diner down the road (the one where sixteen year-old Peter burned the shit out of his hand on his first day and promptly quit) and once they were bundled back in the truck with their burgers, fries and one banana milkshake (“yeah, but these are your favorite,” Tony had said in response to Peter’s exclamation that it was too cold out), Tony drove them out to the field behind the old high school. He parked the car under the lamppost, leaving it running in order to keep the heat on. His thick mechanic’s fingers began to fiddle with the temperature controls. Nat King Cole was playing quietly on the radio.

Peter shifted the paper bag of food in his lap, searching for words but not knowing what to say, and plucked the joint and lighter from his coat. The paper-covered filter found its way between his lips and he inhaled softly as he lit the tip. Satisfied with the light, he french inhaled, closing his eyes for a moment. The first hit was always the best. Peter loved the way he could feel it all the way in his bones. He didn’t know how to describe it other than deep. When he opened them, he made eye contact with Tony in the dim light, and immediately cut his gaze away as he felt the heat rush to his face. He could feel when Tony looked away a moment later.

The lull continued and Peter gingerly held the joint between his fingertips as he exhaled, hand outstretched.

Worn fingers plucked it away, and Peter’s eyes were immediately drawn to the slightly chapped lips that wrapped themselves around the filter. “You stayin’ at um, at May's...old place?” Tony faltered as he inhaled, as if he wasn't sure what the most sensitive way to talk about it was.

“Yeah," Peter said softly as he looked down at his lap. Spending his first night in the house alone last night had made him feel the loneliest he'd ever been in his life, and that was saying something because he’d been feeling pretty miserable lately. Peter saw May everywhere he looked, waiting to hear her call for him to come taste some new-fangled recipe from the kitchen, or to please, for the hundredth time, rinse the dishes before he put them in the sink. He missed her more than he thought possible, her death earth-shattering after having already lost Ben when he was 17, back when this mess all started. When he left for the first time. When he started running away. “It’s- It’s weird but I’m...adjusting. It’s honestly not that different to when she was alive, though. Y’know- recently.” He cut himself off, not sure if he wanted Tony to know the full reality of his existence, now.

Because it was true. It killed Peter to admit it, but his relationship with Aunt May started going downhill around the time of Ben’s death, too. By the time she had her heart attack a little more than two years ago, he hadn’t seen her in over a year, or talked to her in nearly as long. It was the biggest regret of his life, pushing May away; the second was the way he essentially did the same thing to Tony, however drawn-out it had been.

Peter reached out for the joint and his fingers brushed against Tony’s, sending a jolt up his spine. “How,” Peter started, swallowing as he twiddled the lighter between his fingers not holding the joint. “How’ve you been, Tony?” He was scared to ask what he really wanted to know. Have you finally had enough? Did you stop waiting on me? Am I too late? To distract himself a bit, he cracked the window so he could ash the joint before taking another drag.

"Same ol’, same ol’,” came Tony’s reply, his voice weary. “I mean, you already know this, but nothin’ really changes here." The quiet way he said it was slightly self-deprecating and the younger man hated it, hated that he had something to do with it. (Peter remembered the way he spat the words at Tony in the wee hours of the morning oh so long ago. "I've gotta get out of this fucking town- I can’t stay here, Tony! You might be okay dying here, a nobody with nothing, but I'm not!")

That’s why I had to leave, he thought, chest tightening. I was trapped in this town. It was never you, Tony. You were perfect. You’re perfect.

"..Yeah," is what came out instead. Peter took another hit before he handed the joint back to Tony and began rifling through the grease-splotched bag, passing the older man his burger before unwrapping his own. He took the top bun off in order to lay down a handful of fries from the bag, smooshing the top back on afterwards. A moan left Peter’s mouth at the first bite, and he heard a chuckle bubble up from Tony’s chest. (He would never admit it, especially not to anyone back in L.A., anyone who didn’t know him before, but this was his favorite meal in the world.)

“Funny that you still do that. So, um,” Tony began again, stuffing a few fries in his mouth and chewing as he spoke out the side of his mouth. “I saw your new collection. It looked nice.” He licked a bit of salt off his thumb.

Peter’s ears burned as he swallowed his bite and raised an eyebrow at the man across from him. “You pay attention to fashion, now?” He fought off a smile at the thought of Tony delicately flipping through the pages of a high-fashion magazine.

“Not like- I’ve tried to keep up with your work,” Tony mumbled, swallowing, his own face taking on a bit of a rosy-hue. “Like to know what you're up to all the way out there.” The joint touched his lips for a few seconds before it made its way back to Peter’s fingers. “I do know how Google works.”

Peter shivered as he felt something flutter in the pit of his stomach at the salt grains that touched his tongue when he took his next pull. “Tastes like salt,” he breathed on the exhale, locking eyes with Tony through the smoke that had accumulated in the car.

Something flashed in the older man’s eyes as he stole the weed back and took a large hit, crooking his salt-sprinkled fingers to beckon Peter closer.

Peter’s own reddened eyes widened when he caught on to what Tony wanted, his heart picking up speed. They hadn’t done that in years. Still clutching his burger in his left hand, he used the right to support himself as he leaned over the console to press his mouth against Tony’s. He closed his eyes as he inhaled, fighting the urge to slip his tongue somewhere it didn’t belong. One of Tony’s hands came up to pull his head closer for a moment, his tongue having the same idea as Peter’s, causing him to whine into Tony’s mouth. His pants were getting tight as he licked right back in response, feeling a slight burn from exhaling through his nose. He missed this. Nobody kissed him like Tony did-

“Shit!” Tony pulled away sharply, and Peter’s heart stopped for a second. But when he realized what was happening, he couldn’t contain the surprised cackle that erupted as he saw the joint land in the other man’s lap. “Quit it,” was Tony’s reply, though he was grinning as he said it. He grabbed what was left of the joint off his jeans and stubbed it out the rest of the way on the dashboard. “It burned my fuckin’ finger.”

“Oh poor baby,” Peter shot back, shifting in his seat and taking another bite of his burger. He willed the slight chub to go away, but knew it was a lost cause. He pretty much signed up for it; he was always turned on when he was high around Tony (and most of the time when he was sober, too). Some kind of conditioning or something, he thought deliriously.

“Ya better hush up, Parker,” Tony snarked and dipped some fries into Peter’s banana shake. He rolled his neck a bit, reaching for his burger. “So, kid. Tell me ‘bout L.A..”

***

Peter was basking peacefully in his high, humming along to whatever was playing through the speakers. He and Tony had both finished their food, chatting about this and that, but nothing of real substance, their earlier stilted conversation far from their minds. Shooting the shit, as Tony called it, over some weed and a meal was their normal routine when they were younger, and it came as naturally as breathing. Peter had never met anyone else he could simply coexist with on this level, simply enjoying the other’s presence for what it was. I love you, he thought as he looked at Tony, who was leaning back in his seat with his eyes closed and nodding his head along with the beat. I’m so in love with you and it scares the shit out of me.

The younger man’s eyes roved over Tony’s face as his mind raced. What was he doing? Would something be different this time? He wasn’t that angry seventeen year old anymore- now he was twenty-four, clinically depressed, and living someone else’s life. Would it be so bad to finally leave that all behind, to finally let himself have what he’s denied himself for so long? Didn’t he deserve to be happy, after all this pain? And even if it wasn’t in the cards for them, if Peter was destined to be alone, wouldn’t even the most miniscule amount of time with Tony be worth it?

Tony’s gravelly voice startled him back to the present. “I should probably be gettin’ you home, huh, Peter?” The bearded man opened his eyes and began sitting up, turning to look at him. The expression on his face was unreadable, and Peter didn’t know if he should agree or protest, so he merely lifted a shoulder in faux indifference, shooting Tony a half-smile.

Please, call me Pete… Just Pete, Peter begged in his head. Tony calling him by his full name made the ugly thing in his chest wriggle uncomfortably. Last time he was home, before he said those awful things, Tony hadn’t called him Peter in years. Yet another beautiful thing that he’d taken for granted and ruined for himself.

“Could also drive around for a bit if you wanted, see some lights.” Damn Tony and his ability to read Peter so well. The suggestion was soft, and he looked down as he said it, almost as if he was feeling shy.

Peter shook his head minutely and shifted a little in his seat, gently biting his lip. “I’m getting a little tired, haven’t smoked in a while,” he lied through his teeth, but the smile on his face was real this time.

Tony grinned right back at him.

(“What would we even do on a date? There’s nothing to do here, Tony,” Peter said with a laugh. “I dunno,” Tony replied, snuggling the lighter-haired teenager closer into his chest as they snuggled on the couch. “We could go look at the Christmas lights, get some hot chocolate… I could tie some mistletoe to the mirror in the truck. There’d be sum kissin’ involved….” He trailed off as Peter’s lips found his own. “Or we could do the kissin’ right here,” he murmured, sinking into the kiss.)

***

The drive back to May’s house was spent with Tony catching Peter up on everyone in town as they passed various houses. (“Remember Happy Hogan, the butcher?? Him an’ that pretty florist, Ms. Potts, got married last year. Think they’re havin’ a baby,last I heard.” “Rhodey’s mama died this spring, she got cancer, but he an’ Mr. Rhodes still live out here now that Rhodey’s moved home. Honorable discharge last fall. Done got himself a new girlfriend now too, Carol; he met ‘er in the Air Force. She’s a sweet one, I think you’d like ‘er.”)

When they pulled into the driveway, Tony cut the engine and hopped out. Peter did the same, grabbing the bag with their trash and patting his pocket, double-checking for his keys and lighter. He stepped around Tony, who had stopped at the bottom of the front steps, and walked up to the door, fumbling for a minute with his keys under the porch light to find the right one (it had robin’s egg blue polka-dots of May’s favorite nail polish). Tony’s footsteps followed him up the stairs.

Peter stuck the key in the lock and opened the door a crack before turning to face the taller man. “So.”

Tony’s eyes searched his own as they gazed at one another. “So,” he parroted back. His index finger went up to rub at his nose as he took a hard sniff in. There was a beat of silence. “Thanks for the joint, and uh, the company. It was good seein’ you,” he said at last, a hint of his signature lopsided grin curving his lips.

Peter felt the goodbye that was coming before it even left Tony’s mouth, and something in him broke. “Don’t leave me here alone.” The words came out of Peter’s mouth in a mumble, and suddenly he couldn’t make eye contact with Tony, losing focus and staring at his own feet instead. He felt the harsh burning of tears as it hit him again just how alone he was about to be when he walked inside, how alone he already was. He was always so fucking alone.

Even in L.A., so much bigger than fucking Aurora, New York, surrounded by thousands of people, Peter still felt invisible, insignificant. He had no friends. Sure, he had a publicist, and connections, and celebrity acquaintances & clientele. But without his money and his clothes, what would he have? What did he have when he was just Peter Parker, rather than Peter Benjamin, semi-famous designer? Nothing. (When he got the call about May, and he’d broken down in the bathroom during a business meeting with representatives for Tom Ford, he realized he had no one to call. No one to comfort him or tell him it would be okay. He’d sobbed into his pillow that night, screaming his throat raw with Tony’s number punched into his phone, ready to be dialed. He never called.) He had nothing and no one, and it was all his fault because he was so stupid, and maybe this is just what he deserved. If he hadn’t pushed everyone-

“Hey- Hey, Peter, no. Never,” Tony was saying gently, cautiously pulling Peter into his strong arms and out of his anxiety attack. “‘m not goin’ anywhere if y’don’t want me to, baby.” He tucked Peter’s head under his chin, a chill running down his spine due to the chilly evening air. “S’okay, everythin’s okay.”

Peter sucked in a deep breath through his mouth, trying to calm himself. His forehead dug into Tony’s shoulder painfully but it helped to ground him. The soothing sensation of Tony’s fingers tracing circles on his back helped, too. Peter’s breath was still hitching every so often, so he shut his eyes and tried to synch his breathing with Tony’s. It felt so nice to just be this close to someone- Peter couldn’t remember the last time he’d been held. Tony had probably been the last one to do it, though. (He’d had sex in L.A. of course, but it was all superficial. Nothing real. Nothing like what he had with Tony- not even close.) Shifting slightly, he buried his nose in the crook of Tony’s neck, searching unconsciously for the smell he loved so much; a mix of gasoline, teakwood, and something smoky. The scent sent a shiver down Peter’s spine, and that hot feeling simmered in his stomach again. He’d always joked that he would bottle Tony’s smell if he could. Tony would just laugh and jokingly tease Peter for always having his nose in his neck or armpit.

Now Tony just hummed lightly in response, tightening his hold for a moment before relaxing. “‘Yer’okay,” he whispered, once he could feel that Peter’s breathing had evened out for the most part.

Peter pulled back a bit and stared at a spot in the middle of Tony’s chest, thinking. He decided to go for it. Worst that could happen was Tony saying no, and leaving Peter here alone, but he knew he’d end up alone eventually. But he’d delay the inevitable as long as he could. “Kiss me, T,” he said quietly, leaning in before he could change his mind. His lips brushed Tony’s and he pulled back, trying not to go cross eyed looking into the other’s eyes. “I don’t wanna be alone anymore.”

Tony stared at him for a moment before their mouths met again, and Peter nipped gently at his lip before clumsily walking backwards through the cracked front door, pulling Tony with him with their mouths still connected. Tony’s foot kicked it closed behind them, bathing them in darkness, and he tripped a bit when Peter clutched at the lapels of his jacket a little too hard. Cursing under his breath, he leaned back against the door and tugged Peter along, using the support behind him to balance as he toed his boots off. They disconnected momentarily as the shorter man did the same, hands still gripping the denim.

Peter licked his lip as they stood in the dark entryway. Looking up at Tony, he shrugged his coat off, letting it fall to the hardwood floor beneath them. He reached out and gently pushed the denim jacket off the taller man’s shoulders too before leaning in, stopping just before their lips made contact. “Come upstairs with me,” he whispered.

Tony’s mocha eyes flitted around for a minute, searching his face for something. Peter couldn’t tell if he liked what he saw, but Tony kissed him again before taking his hand. “Your room,” he questioned, taking hold of the banister and leading Peter up the stairs.

***

“Fuck, Tony. Right there, right there, ohhhhh.” Peter was on his back with one leg thrown over Tony’s shoulder and the other bent off to the side, the ball of his foot pushing into the mattress. The mechanic’s uncut cock was stretching his lubed hole. Tony was leaning over him and one of his hands was clutching at Peter’s hip, the other at the leg up by his face. His facial hair scratched deliciously against the pale skin on the inside of Peter’s knee as he pressed a kiss there.

(Tony had kissed and licked and sucked praises into the skin of his neck, chest, stomach and thighs as he’d fingered him open at a torturously slow pace. “So good fer me, Pete. Look at you. You’re so goddamn beautiful.” Peter had whimpered and whined the whole time as he tried to fuck himself on the thick digits whose pads were caressing his prostate.)

A moan left the older man’s lips as he looked into Peter’s eyes. “You feel so good, baby. Always feel so- fuckin’- good,” he grunted, thrusting further in the tight, wet heat. “Love fuckin’ your ass.” He dug his fingers tighter into Peter’s skin, sure to leave bruises.

Gasping, Peter arched his hips up, toes curling, cock bobbing against his stomach with every thrust. He could feel Tony deep inside him, in that place that only he had ever been able to reach. Fuck, why had he ever let this go? Never letting you go again, Tony. You can’t leave me alone. I need you. I love you. He whined, baring his neck in a silent plea and bringing his leg down so that both were wrapped around the man’s thick waist. Tony reacted accordingly; his hands moved up to clutch at Peter’s near the headboard and his mouth latched onto the column of Peter’s neck, sucking. A wounded noise escaped Peter, his hole clenching, and Tony bit down harshly at the sensation. Peter keened again, going limp on the mattress as his legs fell open to the side. “Shit, Tony, god!”

Hot, wet breath tickled Peter’s neck with every ragged exhale that left Tony’s mouth, causing the smaller to whine lewdly, squirming. “Yeah? Are you- mine? Y’gon be mine- huh, Pete?” Peter heard the unspoken question, the twinge of desperation in Tony’s voice. Will you finally be mine? He sounded tired, that deep-in-your-bones type weariness, Peter noticed as he felt his own chest start to get tight. He’d really done a number on the person who deserved it the least. And for what? To come crawling back years later, expecting to be forgiven?

Yes, he thought in response to Tony’s question, hating himself for it. One of his hands tangled itself in the crown of Tony’s head, fingers pulling the strands at the root possessively as teeth sunk into his neck again. Yours. Always yours. He let out another moan, rolling his hips in an attempt to get some friction on his neglected cock that was weeping precum as Tony continued to thrust in and out of him. “Please, please- Tony, please.” If Peter had any shame left, he’d probably be blushing at how needy and wrecked he sounded. Instead it just turned him on, knowing just how gone he was for the other man.

With a grunt, Tony redistributed his weight and brought two fingers to Peter’s lips. “Open up fer a minute, baby,” he requested softly, slipping the digits inside. Peter laved them with his tongue, coating them with thick saliva and Tony groaned at the feeling, dick twitching in Peter’s ass. Once they were sufficiently wet, he pulled his fingers away, a thin string of drool stretching to connect them to Peter’s slick lips. “Fuckin’ gorgeous, Pete, Christ.” His calloused hand wrapped loosely around the hot, rosy cock between them. “Fuck my hand, baby.”

Peter complied without hesitation, rocking his hips and pressing his shaft in and out of the slick tunnel that was Tony’s hand. He cried out when Tony’s thumb caressed the underside of the head as the cock inside of him nailed directly into his prostate. The pressure had already been a lot, but the pleasure was suddenly overwhelming in a new way. He was so close and Tony hadn’t even been touching him for thirty seconds. “F-fuck, Tony, I’m gonna- Ahhhhh-”

“Yeah, cum for me, Pete,” Tony’s warm breath heaved into his ear, tongue sneaking out to lick the outer shell and dip inside briefly at the same time he tightened his grip on Peter’s sensitive member. “Fuck, cum for me, baby, cum on my- Cum on my cock- God-.”

And with a cry, Peter did just that, biting into Tony’s shoulder as the tension in his gut snapped, hole twitch relentlessly around the hard cock inside him as his own shot spurt after spurt of hot cum on his chest; some reached the hollow of his throat and his chin. “God, Tony, shit, shit, shit.”

“Yesssss, Pete, holy fuck.” Tony buried himself inside one last time, his mouth latching onto the column of Peter’s neck as he reached his orgasm, shoving himself inside as deep as possible. His dick twitched, painting Peter’s insides with his spend and making him groan.

They stayed that way for a moment before Tony pulled back to look into Peter’s eyes. “Lemme clean’ya up,” he offered gently as he carefully pulled his softening cock out of the heat of the younger man’s ass. There was a slight burbling sound, and he brushed his lips against Peter’s when he saw the embarrassment flash across his face. “Hol’ on.” Climbing out of the bed, he made his way to the bathroom that was adjoined to Peter’s room.

Peter’s heart was beating uncomfortably in his chest as he lay among the sheets, bringing his hands up to his chest to fiddle with each other anxiously. It couldn’t be over. He wasn’t ready for it to be over. He wasn’t ready to be alone again.

When Tony walked back in, he got back on the bed, gently wiping the cum off Peter’s chest with a warm rag, smirking at the full-body shivers that ran through the young man in response to the cloth being swiped lightly over his nipples. Once his chest was clean, Tony moved down to run the fabric between Peter’s ass cheeks, collecting the milky-white substance that was leaking out of the hole.

“Stay,” Peter whispered, once Tony had thrown the washcloth in the hamper and climbed back into bed at Peter’s invitation of patting the spot beside himself in bed. He wiggled so that his back was pressed up against Tony’s front. His fingers tangled themselves with those on a slightly larger hand and as he let his eyes slip shut, he felt Tony’s lips press a kiss into the sweaty curls at the back of his head.

***

When Peter woke up, it was well past noon. The bed was so warm that the heat from his and Tony’s bodies trapped up under the fluffy comforter would be sweltering if he didn’t crave it so much.

Peter swallowed drily as he looked at Tony’s face in the afternoon light, peaceful in sleep. At some point during their sleep, they had shifted to where they were facing each other. He wanted to trace his fingers along the strong facial features in front of him, but he refrained, not wanting to wake the older man. He knew he needed to talk to Tony. He knew that Tony deserved better. But maybe Peter could be selfish just this once... It was Christmas after all. Tis the damn season and all that.

Leaning forward, with a hand pressed gently against Tony’s chest, Peter pecked his lips against the sleeping man’s in a kiss. He got no response, so he did it again, adding a little more pressure. Tony began to stir; his arm wrapped lazily around Peter’s naked waist, pulling their bottom halves together.

“G’mornin’,” Tony mumbled sleepily as he blinked a few times before his gaze focused on Peter. His voice was scratchy and rough, and Peter’s hips jerked slightly in response as he whispered back his own greeting, partially because Tony had begun to get hard. The mechanic brought up a hand and took hold of Peter’s chin, pulling their mouths together as he ground their burgeoning erections together.

Peter wrapped a leg around Tony’s waist as they lay there on their sides and began to gently rock his hips. “Tony,” he mewled, eyes screwed shut. The words were bubbling up inside him, just like the arousal was blooming in his gut. One of his arms wrapped around Tony’s neck, pulling their bodies together as close as they could get.

“Yeah,” came Tony’s breathy reply. His eyes were roving over Peter’s flushed face as he undulated his own hips, thumb coming up to press against the younger’s spit-slick bottom lip. “Whadisit?”

Peter took the digit into his mouth for a moment and they made eye contact as he swirled his tongue around the tip, fellating it. He released it from his mouth with a pop, biting his own lip. “Am I too late,” he asked quietly, burying his face in the muscled chest before him, pecking tender kisses on the heated flesh. “Do you still love me?” His voice shook as he continued, breath faltering as well as the sensations built up. He squeezed his eyes shut even though Tony couldn’t see the tears building in his eyes as he chased his pleasure, preparing for the inevitable pain that was sure to follow.

“Pete.” The way Tony said his name was reverent, like he didn’t see Peter for the walking mistake that he was. He was breathing heavier now, too, with the exertion of frotting their hard cocks together. “How could I ever stop, baby?” He craned his neck in order to meet Peter’s eyes. “Was just waitin’ on ya t’come home.” He pressed their lips together as Peter’s leg tightened around his waist. “Was always just waitin’ on ya t’come home,” he repeated. A particularly hard thrust had them both groaning, clutching desperately at each other as they chased that euphoric feeling. “’Course I love you, Peter. Now cum for me.”

Peter couldn’t help but obey as a sob burst from his lips, Tony following him over the edge. “I love you,” he cried, as their bodies shook together. “I’m s-sorry Tony, I love you- Don’t go, don’t ever leave me. I won’t- I promise I won’t go again. I can’t go again, I can’t leave you again. I won’t.” Tony’s thumbs came up to wipe the tears from under his eyes, and a kiss was pressed to his temple as he felt himself be pulled into those strong arms.

“I’d never leave you, Pete.”

***

The bed was cold when Peter woke again. He lay there, watching the sunset through his bedroom window. Gentle creaks could be heard as the house groaned under pressure from the falling snow. He rolled over, grimacing at the pain in his lower half and pulling a pillow to his chest. It still smelled of teakwood, smoke, and gasoline. He smiled, burying his face further into the intoxicating scent. “I love you,” he whispered to the empty house, feeling lighter than he had in years.

(Yes, the bed was cold, now. But Tony would be back to warm it up. And he’d have burgers, fries, and a banana milkshake when he returned. Maybe even a joint. Peter was glad he didn’t have to wait long. They’d had just about enough of that over the past seven years.)

#starker #hey it might be a week later than i intended to finish but at least it's out by christmas #bloo writes bad things (tm)#enjoy!

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cherry-flavoured-thot · 4 years

Note

Plz all the obey me bois Anything u wanna write I just lov them so much (And they're not pokemon lmao) Beel is bae

beel been putting the obaby in obey me since he appeared. have some random soft pieces

Lucifer returned late that evening, to the point where he expected nobody to be awake when he returned, which wasn’t unusual, a meeting would drag on for sometime and he’d return long into the night to a mostly silent home. He had told you he wouldn’t return until late and asked you not to wait for him, yet despite him asking you this he still ends up finding your sleeping figure on the couch in the lounge where you clearly had been waiting for him.

“Whatever am I going to do with you?” He questions to himself softly, accompanied with a small sigh. He debates to himself what to do with you, whether he should lightly shake you awake, attempt to move you but risk disturbing you, or simply allow you to sleep where you were. He decides that he does have the heart to do so, opting to find you a blanket and placing it over you. “Rest well.” He murmurs, placing a ghost of a kiss on your forehead before leaving you to rest.

Mammon isn’t exactly sure why he’s the one who has to babysit your drunk ass when Asmo was the one who got you drunk in the first place. Not that he was complaining at this point, you were surprisingly cuddly when you were drunk personal space seemed to be lost concept on you. You’re leaning on him, face flushed red, you had been babbling on about random things earlier that made no sense but now you were oddly silent.

“You know what Mammon?” Never mind. He doesn’t reply, just waiting in silence to see if this time he’ll understand the slurred words that fall out of your mouth. “Sometimes I can’t tell whether you like me or not, but I don’t… I don’t really care, because I like you a whole lot. Don’t tell anyone else but you’re my favourite person.” Your words trail off, silenced by a loud yawn, eyes starting to close. Mammon is left to register your words as you fall asleep on him, after turning about three varying shades of red, he looks to your now asleep form.

“Stupid human, you’re my favourite too…”

Leviathan didn’t even hear you come into his room, he was so focused on the game he was playing that nothing else could catch his attention. Rather than scaring him you decided to wait until his match finished, when it finally did he placed the controller down and twisted in his chair to grab a drink only to see you standing there smiling at him. Despite you not doing anything but standing there, he still ends up being startled almost jumping completely out of his chair.

“H-how long have you been standing there?” His question is met with a voice crack half way through his sentence, you simply shrug, smile not faltering, it’s in this moment he notices the excitement in your eyes.

“Five minutes. Anyways guess what?”

“What?” You quickly pull out two tickets that were hiding behind your back, with a little leap of excitement.

“I got two tickets to that live show you were talking about!” This time he leaps in excitement, his entire face lighting up.

“Whoa no way! Let me see!” You hand them to him and he examines them, before letting out a small cheer. “They’re legit and front row too! You’re like the best human ever!” He impulsively pulls you into a hug, but quickly retreats from your arms, completely red when he realizes what he did.

Asmodeus loved the fact that you and him both had matching colored nails at the moment, and he loved the benefits that came with that factor. He can ask to hold your hand, with the excuse that it only makes sense for you to do so when your nails are matching. He can make you wear similar colored outfits to him when you go out together and blame it on the nails.

But his favourite thing was that he could use them as an excuse to steal you away from the rest of his brothers, that he could claim that you and him needed to re-do your nails together and you’d go along with it, allowing him to have you all to himself, even it’s for just a moment.

Satan was really trying his best to not only ignore you but look at annoyed with you at the same time, but it was really hard you continued to slide notes to him with cute little drawings of cats on them. Despite him telling you to stop it, multiple times, and that he was trying to focus.

“Are you two passing notes?” Satan takes in a deep breath, of course the teacher had to notice you sliding him what would be the sixth cat drawing, which was of a very cute fluffy cat but that’s besides the point.

“No, they’re just passing notes to me.” You look slightly betrayed at him throwing you under the bus, but you don’t seem too bothered by being called out by the teacher nonetheless.

“(Name) care to read out your notes to everyone else?”

“Well they don’t actually say anything, they’re just drawings of cats, but... meow? I guess.” Satan’s head is in his hands, mainly so the teacher doesn’t catching him smiling at your antics.

“Detention.” Satan looks up and mouths ‘i warned you,’ with a small smile before the teacher speaks up once again. “For the both of you.” Satan is no longer smiling but you’re now resisting the urge to laugh.

Beelzebub knows that in the back of his mind, that Lucifer is not going to be pleased if he walks into the kitchen to find it in the state it’s currently in. Not that it was intentional but, there’s flour everywhere and egg on the ceiling, as well as a pancake that you tried to flip in the pan but ended having it stick to the roof. And there’s a hole in the roof from where he tried to do the same thing, which he knows he’s not going to be able to fix before Lucifer gets home.

But he doesn’t really care, because in the middle of the kitchen you’ve toppled over, laughter erupting from you to the point where you’re almost in tears. It’s such a funny sight that it makes Beel laugh too, any worries he has are washed away by the sound, seeing you so happy makes him happy too, happy to the point where he doesn’t mind that the food he was promised is currently lodged in the ceiling.

Belphegor was both annoyed and amused, on one hand you didn’t agree to come lie in bed with him because you had homework to do, on the other hand you had decided to do it in his general vicinity and the noises of confusion you were making as you struggled to figure out were rather funny. Especially because he had no idea how you were getting some of the answers you were getting either but he knew most of the right ones.

“The answer is 72, I have no idea how you got -6 either so don’t bother asking me.” He speaks up, deciding that he wants you to hurry up and finish with your work, you turn back to him, expression morphing between confusion, curiosity and something between the two.

“I- you- how?”

“Who cares? Now please tell me you’re finished with your homework.” You mutter something to yourself, wonder why he hadn’t helped you sooner, which he chooses to ignore, before quickly scribbling down the answer.

“I guess.”

“Then hurry up and come lie next to me.”

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absurdthirst · 3 years

Note

So I've never watched the mandalorian but one day one of your incredibly well written mando smut fics came out on my dash and out of curiosity I read it and I kinda fell into a hole, both with your blog and with Pedro and his characters. I've seen so many good shows and movies now thanks to you (mostly speaking of triple frontier, GoT, narcos, prospect, we can be heroes, kingsman) and since I've been hella fken depressed lately I just wanted to say thank you for your writing. You are incredibly talented and I admire you so much (even if it sounds weird, plz just take my loves) and really I've just been coping with everything going on lately by reading your works every chance I get cuz they always manage to pick me up even if it's by a little, so thank you. (sorry if it's long or awkward aaa)

Thank you so much! Don’t be sorry for anything, I’m glad that you have enjoyed my works.

Having something to distract yourself of pretty awesome, I use reading and now writing myself as a distraction.

I hope that you come out of the depression soon, I know it can seem like you never will sometimes.

#comment reply

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jawabear · 4 years

Text

Good to me (Maxwell Lord x Reader)

Not my GIF

Genre: Smut, little fluff

Warnings: fem!reader, S M U T (that means sex), daddy kink, just filth really, an atom of angst I guess, I'm bad at writing smut so plz forgive me of that. Pedro Pascal comes with his own warning.

Summary: when the boss can't decide what to wear, he needs the help of his assistant to give him fashion advice, and give his something a little extra...

(I don't like to use the word p**sy or c*ck in my smut writing? I don't really know why, I just kinda feel uncomfortable writing it...so please forgive me for that)

She knew it was wrong to develop feelings for such a person but she couldn't help herself. The first time in her life she was treated well. She was treated differently from other but in a good way. She was spoilt by him. She would come to work and find something new for her on her desk every day. She couldn't help but wonder if maybe he did have feelings for her as well, but she was quick to rid her self of those thoughts. She knew that the infamous Maxwell Lord would never actually like someone like her, she was nothing but a pretty face for him to use to show off to other CEO's and potential buyers whenever he was invited to a formal gathering or some kind of party. She was his side piece, and to be honest, she didn't really mind.

She had also never had more sex in her life then when she was with Max. He loved her body, he loved making love to her body. Making her scream for him, making her cry out his name. He loved it. He was the best she had ever had, but she didn't have much to go on, she hadn't really had many sexual partners in the past, every boyfriend she had been with, had cheated on her, so she swore of dating for a while, moving out of her old city to start a fresh life. And she fell right into Max's lap.

But he was good to her. Despite the using of her body for his own personal gain and pleasure, he treated her with respect. He would never do anything she didn't want to. If she felt uncomfortable at a party, he would remove her from the room, take her outside and allow her a few minuets to calm down. He treated her to fang dinners before a party, he would take her shopping for a new dress for every party they would go to, he would buy her anything she wanted. But she never wanted a lot, she grew up having to be happy with what was given, she wasn't used to luxuries such as a new dress to wear once. He thought this was cute, adorable even. It took her a while to become more comfortable with asking him for something but even so, she still wasn't used to it.

As his personal assistant, she had no choice but to comply with everything he asked. He was defiantly hard work, but he took pride in that at times. He didn't make things easy, like choosing where he wanted to eat was made into such a fuss, he acted like a child if she suggested somewhere he didn't want to go. And then usually he would end up there any way. Either that or he would end up eating her instead.

She sat at her desk reading over his schedule for the next two day, adjusting times and moving meetings as he had asked her, she then would have to phone up the people coming to said meetings to inform them of the time change and apologise in Mr Lord's behalf for the change. She took a sip of her freshly made tea and heard her phone ring. She put down her mug and lifted the phone to her ear.

"Good afternoon, Maxwell Lord's office, how can I help you?" she had said this more times then she could count, she even ended up saying it in her dreams, when she dreamed about behind fingered by him while she took and important call.

"I need you to help me" Max's voice sounded over the phone. He didn't sound desperate like he usually would if he needed to fuck her. It sounded more of a genuine request, a genuine task needed to be done.

"Yes sir, I'm on my way" she nodded and put the phone down. She stood and grabbed her notebook thinking it would be a good idea to update him on his schedule changes. She straightened her skirt and made her way up to his office. The ride in the elevator was slow but it always was when she was going to his office. She supposed it was the anticipation of seeing him that slowed down the experience.

It dinged and the doors opened. She stepped out of the elevator and walked over to the door of his office. She didn't knock, she never did, he told her to always just walk in, regardless of if he asked her there or not. "Mr Lord" she greeted as she shut the door behind her.

She saw he was standing in front of the full body mirror he had on the far left wall of his office. He had a nice dark grey three piece suit one, one she hadn't seen before but already loved. He turned to face her, holding out a black tie and a black bow tie. "Which one?" He asked her.

She placed her notebook down on his desk and walked over to him, her eyes scanning between the two items "what's the occasion?" She asked.

"I've been asked to go to a dinner with a business partner and his wife, to discuss the future of our partnership"

"If it's a dinner then defiantly the tie" she said as she took hold of said item. He threw the bow tie behind him.

"Would you mind?" He asked in reference to her tying the tie.

"Not at all" she smiled, she turned up the collar of his freshly pressed white dress shirt and pulled the tie around his neck. He watched her every moved as she proceeded to tie the tie. He felt a little bit embarrassed that he still couldn't do it himself, but he always had someone to do it for him so he never bothered to learn.

"How are you so good a doing this?" He asked her.

"Tying a tie?" She asked, a slight laugh in her voice "I used to do it for my dad all the time. I was the only girl in the family. So I had to take on the mother role, even though I was the youngest. But one of my brothers used to help me cook sometimes, but they were all useless at tying a tie" she straightened the tie and flattened it against his firm chest with a soft smile "there. Perfect"

"Why did you never tell me that?" He asked

"Tell you what?"

"About your family"

"It never came up. But you don't need to worry about it" she assured him "you do need to worry about your shoes though"

"My shoes?" He looked down at them "what's wrong with my shoes?"

"You can't wear a grey suit and brown shoes Max" she laughed "you have any other shoes?"

"Over there" he nodded to the other side of the room where he had a line of about six pairs of shoes. She walked over to them and examined each pair. He silently walked over to her. She bent over and her ass hit against his crotch. She noticed his body stiffen against her making her smirk slightly. He grabbed her hips pulling her ass further against him. He pushed her up against the wall, his breath was deep in her ear making her whimper slightly. "Do you want to come with me tonight?" He whispered while kissing the side of her neck, his hands squeezing her ass.

"Do you want me to come?" She asked him.

"Yes" he mumbled. He began to grid his crotch into her ass, he grunted through gritted teeth "fuck..I need you baby"

"I need you too.." she heard the buckle of his belt come undone and the zip to his trousers undo as well. He pushed up her skirt and tore off her panties making her gasp "fuck Max...what am I going to wear now? I can't sit commando all day" she whined, her body still flush against the wall.

"Would you prefer to sit with my dick inside you all day?" He questioned her. She shivered at the thought, she imagined his dick inside her as he filled out papers and she took calls from business partners, him using her at any random moment to get himself off and her not being able to do anything about it, and the possibility of someone walking in while he was having his way with her, their face when they see her sat on his lap being mercilessly fuck by her boss. "You like that idea don't you?" He whispered darkly in her ear, his hand moving to her front, he traced his thick fingers over the slit of her womanhood making her shiver again and bite her lip "you like the thought of warming daddy's dick don't you? You want someone to walk in and see how you love to have daddy's dick inside you, don't you baby girl?"

"Yes! Yes daddy I do!" She yelped

"But you're only for me to see aren't you, only for me to use. No one else can fuck you like I can"

"No! No daddy! Only you can have me! No one can fuck me as good as you! Oh please fuck me! I need you so bad!" She pleased. He smirked and waisted no time in shoving his dick inside her tight hole making her scream.

His pounding started immediately, giving her no time to adjust to his size, but they had done this enough times so it wouldn't take long "shit, you're always so tight baby. So tight and so wet"

She nodded at his praised "only for you daddy" she moaned. His hips were relentless, pushing her further and further into the wall. One of his hands held a strong grip on her hip, it probably would leave some sort of mark there. The other grabbed her hair, pulling into a messy ponytail. He knew she loved it when he did this, he knew she loved when his hands were in her hair, whether that be an affectionate action or an action of lust, she didn't care.

She helplessly gripped at the flat surface of the wall, she desperately wanted to grab hold of something but there was nothing for her to hold. His office was filled with the sounds of her whines and moans as he pounded into her, occasionally slapping her ass to make her yelp. "You're such a good girl for daddy. Taking me so well all the time" he complimented. He thanked whatever greater being there was that his office was sound proof, it meant that he could get her to scream as loud as possible and no one would ever know, he didn't want anyone to head the noise she made, they were made for him and him alone.

Her body tightened when the head of his dick hit that special spot inside her. Her fists clenched and unclenched in a rhythm again the wall, he could tell she was getting close "you hold it in baby girl. You don't come until I tell you"

Her breath came out in heavy pants as she nodded at his request. He pulled her body against his by her hair, her head landing on his shoulder. His hips never once faltered in his action. His hand that was once on her hip now moved to to her womanhood and began rubbing vicious circles on to her clit. She let out cries of his name, her legs beginning to shake at the stimulation "you hold it in" he ordered, his voice deep and dark. He loved to see her like this. So close to the edge that she started to cry, wanting nothing more then sweet release. One of her hands grabbed his wrist that was in her hair while the other grabbed his wrist that was torturing her sensitive bundle of nerves.

"Daddy!" She cried out "please! Let me come! I want to come so bad! I want to come all over your dick!" She begged. His dick twitched inside her at hearing how desperate and broken her voice was becoming, he could feel his own climax fast approaching "please daddy, I can't hold it for much longer"

"Come baby girl. Come all over me" he told her. Her grip on his wrists tightened as her back arched, her ass pressing further into him and she came with a scream of his name. Her followed shortly after, enjoying the feeling of her walls clenching around him, milking every last drop on his come into her body.

The room was filled now only with the sound of heavy breaths as the two stayed connected for a few moments. His thrusts slowed to a stop and he removed his hand from her clit, placing it on her stomach. He turned his head and began placing gentle kisses to her cheek as she came down from her climax. "You're amazing Max..." she whispered.

"So are you baby girl.." he replied in the same softness. He dropped his hand from her hair and carefully pulled himself out of her, she whimpered at the loss of warmth inside her. The two went about fixing their appearances. He tucked himself back into his boxers and zipped up his trousers while she straightened her skirt. He legs wobbled as she walked over to the mirror in his office to fix her hair.

She ran her hands through the strands to make it look less messy and less like he had been pulling on it. He appeared next to her and rested his large hand on the small of her back as he watched her every movement in the mirror. "You are so beautiful" he muttered under his breath making her blush. "I don't tell you that enough"

"Well, it's not really your problem to tell me that, right? If we were together it would be but...we're not..." he noticed how her voice got quieter to wards the end of her sentence. He also noticed the sadness in her eyes as they met his in the reflective surface.

"In that case, maybe we should be together" he proclaimed.

"Wh-what?" She stuttered, her eyes wide at his statement. He turned her body so now they were facing each other, his hand gently rubbed up and down on her arms.

"Do you not want to be with me?" He questioned.

"I do Max" she whispered as she fiddled with the lapel of his blazer "I do want to be with you..."

"But..?"

She looked up at him "I'm not sure I'm the right woman for you. I want what's best for you. You deserve someone who is on your level, someone who actually enjoys all the parties, someone who is used to living the highlight, someone who likes being in the spotlight, someone who won't argue when you want to buy them something. I don't think I'm the one you need"

"You are. You're the only one I need. If I had someone who didn't argue when I wanted to buy them something I wouldn't get to see the smile you give me when you get something. That smile of gratitude. The smile that warms my heart whenever you wear it" he brushed a piece of hair behind her ear "you are the only woman I want. The only one I need, you are what's best for me. I’ll give you whatever you want”

Her eyes flicked between his as she lifted her hands to rest on his cheeks, a soft smile then formed on her rosy lips “I just want you” He flashed a smile at her before finally pressing his lips to her in a long awaited kiss.

He was defiantly good to her, and now that she was officially his, he would be even better.

Masterlist

#Maxwell lord #Maxwell lord x reader #Maxwell lord fanfic #wonder women 1984 #fluff #smut #Pedro Pascal #fanfic

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