#i want your blood in my fucking teeth. and it's your fault i want it there- certainly- because I TRY. I try so hard not to feel this way

[ponderingmoonlight]

Realizing your true feelings for Gojo after he stands up for you

Pairing: Gojo x fem!reader

Word Count: 1,4k

Synopsis: You told yourself countless times that you aren't able to like Gojo Satoru, that he is nothing but a jerk. Until he stands up for you, until he shows you what he really thinks of you...

Warnings: literally wrote this in my break at work so don't come for me lol, fluff fluff fluff, reader getting insulted

Oh, how much you hate the way basically everyone looks at you. Well, not technically you, to be exact. It’s rather the person walking next to you who drowns in attention every time you are forced to go out together.

Not that you’d understand the hype. Gojo Satoru, the blessed one, the honored one, the strongest fucking jujutsu sorcerer of your lifetime.

“What’s wrong? Feeling left out, (y/n)?”

And probably the biggest pain in your ass.

“You’re such a whore for attention it hurts”, you bite back while rolling your shaded eyes the way you always do the second he opens his mouth.

His laughter vibrates through your body, annoys you to the core. When will this madness finally come to an end? When will they finally begin to send you onto missions with Geto, Yu or fuck, even Nanami? Why on earth does it always have to be him?

“Caught me there I guess. But it’s not my fault that I’m easy to look at. Not like you.”

You force yourself to take a deep breath in and out, to calm your tingling nerves and stop your fist from twitching. That fucker has some really good nerves. Only the sound of his name next to you simply drives you insane, let alone his stupid comments and oh too annoying voice. Is there really anything good on Gojo Satoru, something you might like?

“I hate you”, you hiss through gritted teeth.

“Aww, don’t be like that, (y/n). We both know that isn’t true”, he purrs, ready to grab your shoulder when you yank away.

“I’ll break your fucking nose if you touch me, jerk.”

“I’d love to see you try, princess.”

“I’ve never seen you around here.”

The sudden soft female voice that interrupts your rambling catches you off guard.

There she stands, an undeniable beauty with curves in just the right places and blonde hair that looks like strands of gold. The bluest eyes, the most breathtaking smile. And of course, her gaze is fixated on Satoru.

“That’s because it’s my first time here. After all, my eyes definitely wouldn’t have miss someone like you”, he replies with that cheeky grin you know oh too well, the cheeky grin that makes your blood boil in an instant.

Really? This is probably the worst time to start a flirty conversation. You were sent here to detect a special grade curse, to save this damned city from getting scorched. But he? He has nothing but her blonde hair and delicate smile in his pea brain

“Don’t you think that this isn’t the right time for a conversation like that?”, you mumble irritably.

“We’re just having a little talk. Who are you, his girlfriend? I highly doubt that. A girl like you would never have a chance with a guy like him.”

You have to blink a few times when her sugary voice spits at you with pure venom.

It shouldn’t bother you. Why would it? Gojo is the last person walking on earth you’d be in a relationship with, the last person who would ever want you. You, with your average looks. You, being a grade 2 sorcerer who has nothing special to offer. You, who never actually allowed herself to like Gojo. You, who is nothing compared to the woman standing in front of you.

Then why do her words feel like a knife in your heart? Why are you standing there like an idiot, sunglasses barely covering your pain? Why does his presence next to you suddenly sting so badly?

“Pretty disgusting words for someone with that face. Do you really think the world belongs to you because you look good? Let me tell you something: Apart from being hot, (y/n) is also unremarkable smart, astute and sarcastic. Someone as simple-minded as you should better avoid me. Now get lost, will you?”

What.

On.

Earth.

Did Gojo Satoru really stand up for you? No, did Gojo Satoru just call you “hot, unremarkable smart, astute and sarcastic”? Your heart almost beats out of your chest, pounding so roughly against your ribcage that you feel like fainting any given minute. A cruel storm of butterflies almost causes your guts to turn, makes you see stars. Are you dreaming, maybe? This can’t be reality. It’s impossible that-

“Hey, are you okay? I hope you don’t trust that stinky girl”, Gojo speaks out softly.

You can sense the way he eyes you up and down through his sunglasses, the little pout on his face revealing that he’s truly worried. Is that really the boy who teases you until you lose your mind completely? God, how much you hate him, how much you want to punch him into his stupid perfect face.

You let out the breath you didn’t know you were holding. But what is that little part of your brain that almost dies in excitement, then? What are those strange butterflies that never invaded you since you joined Jujutsu High?

“Hey, look at me.”

Your eyes dart upwards, get greeted by his bright blue orbs that look down at you in a seriousness you’ve never seen before.

“Tell me you don’t believe her.”

“She said nothing I don’t already know”, you reply dryly.

He shakes his head, still staring down at you with furrowed eyebrows. Who is this guy? What are those feelings? Why aren’t you able to look away like you always do? Gojo is only playing with you the way he does constantly. His bright blue orbs aren’t to be trust and you know it.

“I would choose you a hundred times before someone like her, (y/n).”

It’s like all life drained from your body, blank eyes staring at him in shock. This really has to be a dream. When was the last time Gojo has been nice to you? Probably never. He constantly teases you, drives you inane, makes you mad, makes you regret your decision to come to Jujutsu High and also…

Makes you feel save, makes you feel good about yourself, makes you feel affection.

Affection? For Gojo?

“I…I have to go”, you blurt out so abruptly that you almost trip over your own feet while trying to haste away.

He’s only picking on you like he always does. Gojo Satoru, considering a romantic relationship with you? You huff out loud, cheeks redden by the sheer thought of the dumb look you gave him. You aren’t better than the girls you despise so much, after all. He truly managed to wrap you around his finger like everyone else, even though you told yourself over and over to hate him.

What a pathetic jerk you are.

You spin around so fast you almost fall over, only to get caught in a pair of strong arms.

“You don’t believe me”, Gojo notes while keeping you in place.

“Why would I?”, you press out, not daring to look at him once again.

You need to get away from this cursed place, away from the honored one. It’s time to go back to normal, back to hating him with all your heart. Because this is all he is, right? Gojo Satoru is nothing but your rival…right?

“Maybe I can convince you with something else.”

Just when you’re about to protest and freeing yourself, he pulls you even closer and presses his lips against yours.

Time stands still, the lenses of your sunglasses pressing so violently against Gojo’s skin that they crack.

This.

This is the stuff your wildest dreams are made of, a dream you didn’t even allow yourself to think about. If there’s one thing that always seemed impossible to you, it was this. Why would you ever be more than Gojo’s rival, what is the purpose of seeing anything apart from a pain in the ass in him?

This right here.

Out of instinct, you wrap your arms around him as well, pull him closer and closer, take in his delicious scent. The sheer feeling of his lips collapsing into yours leaves you breathless, makes your lungs ache in the urge for air.

Until he lets go of you while panting hard, now glowing eyes fixated on you so intimidating that you feel yourself blushing.

“Believing me know?”

“You stained my sunglasses”, you breathe out mindlessly.

Tags:

@arehzhera @ploylulla @tzubaki @beatrexworld @kenstarsworld

@hellkaiserinphoenix  @lauv4chuuya @sindela @kayleegomez @sunshine7queen

@magalimachete @gatitam @idontknow1123 @creative1writings @sanicsmut 

@mynahx3 @sad-darksoul @chilichopsticks @hellkaiserinphoenix @chuyasthighs0

@ynackerman9499 @keepghostly  @froufrousnowman @tomiokathedepresso @gojosrealwife 

@coffeeluvr96 @mahi-tamashi @weebotaku21 @chaoticwinnercupcake @lees-chaotic-brain 

@risuola  @sugurulefttesticle @wordskeeper @baku2345 @polarbvnny

@ruixrei @bam-bam-bam-bame-blog @lavenderdrxp @localhehecat @alicerhr

@kayleegomez @belovedvamp @wifenanami @chilichopsticks @dlwlrmas-world

@oikawarz @darkstarlight82 @satoreo @kentocalls @cheesemachine44

@ryva @kenjakusconcubine @baku2345 @komelrebi-san @deezy12299

@okay-it-is-ivy @paridoliaaa

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #gojo x reader #jjk gojo #gojo saturo #gojou satoru x reader #jujutsu gojo #gojo satoru #gojo fluff #jjk fluff #husband gojo #satoru gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #jujutsu kaisen satoru #jjk satoru #satorugojo #jujutsu satoru

[northern-polaris]

Wrap My Name Across Your Mouth

First off, how dare. HOW DARE. I make a silly fucking bet that if I wrote a kiss scene, A CERTAIN SOMEBODY WOULD WRITE ME A TAMDRAS SCENE. Well they did and it was fucking amazing and now I gotta post this

Summary: Andras helps Tamlin get up in the morning.

Words: less than 1k

“C’mon, Tam…” A voice soothed distantly, muddled and hazy.

Tamlin stirred slowly, the fogginess of sleep heavy on his mind. He was about to fall under again when he felt a calloused, gentle hand lightly shake his bare shoulder. The hand slowed to a stop and the fingers moved to thrum a tune against Tamlin’s skin.

“Wakey-wakey. If I have to get up at the asscrack of dawn then so do you.” The voice sang cheerfully. 

Tamlin turned his head away from the sound with a groan. The hand lifted from his shoulder, giving Tamlin a brief second of hope for peace, but then the hand returned to start slapping the side of his face. 

Without opening his eyes Tamlin lazily started batting the hand away. The hand retaliated with equal force, and a slap fight ensued for much longer than appropriate for the likes of a High Lord. 

“Fine,” The voice finally said, their hand drawing back. “Be like that, then.” Footsteps echoed across the room; the side with the door. 

Tamlin resisted the smile tugging at his mouth, continuing to be stoned-faced. Victory. 

However, quick, loud stomps suddenly thundered, drawing closer to the bed: Like someone getting a running start. 

Tamlin opened his eyes just in time to watch helplessly as Andras, grinning wildly, dived onto the bed and landed on Tamlin, Andras’ elbow burying itself in Tamlin’s gut, knocking the air out of him with a noise akin to a dying goat. 

Andras cackled as Tamlin curled in on himself, writhing in agony. Eventually, Tamlin felt the metal plating of Andras’ uniform press against his back and well-tuned arms wrapped around his waist. “Tam,” Andras let the syllable draw out like a whine. “You have to get up. I can’t face the cruel world without you.” He buried his face between Tamlin’s shoulder blades with a huff. 

“Then perish.” Tamlin knew Andras could hear the smile in his words when the arms at his waist squeezed fondly. 

After a moment of bliss, Andras slowly lifted his head and placed his lips at the base of Tamlin’s neck. “Tam.” He said again, slowly murmuring it into Tamlin’s skin like it was sacred. A prayer. 

Tamlin tried to repress a shiver: an electric, exhilarating warmth that flowed through his veins like liquid gold.

One hand remained at his waist, fingers idly toying with the waistband of Tamlin’s sleepwear, while the other glided up his body and came to rest at the front of his neck. No pressure, just a warm weight. Safe. 

Andras lightly tilted Tamlin’s head and murmured his nickname again. This time, where his neck met his shoulder. “You’re doing a shit job at making me want to leave this bed.” Tamlin mused breathily.

Andras’ head moved upwards, his lips trailing along Tamlin’s skin. “I’m multitasking,” he whispered next to his ear, his breath hot and tickling, before nipping at the shell of it.  

Tamlin cursed. His grip on the sheets tightened, and a sliver of claws peaked out at the tip of his fingers. 

“Careful, Tam,” Andras warned playfully, now leaning over and mouthing the words into Tamlin’s jaw. His hand at Tamlin’s neck moved to cup the other side of his face. “You’ve just replaced those along with the frame.” 

“I wonder whose fault was that in the first place.” Tamlin snapped hotly. Andras made an innocent noise that vaguely resembled an ‘I don’t know’, before suddenly catching Tamlin’s lips in his teeth. Both them tasting a hint of blood. He let his teeth up quickly and tilted both their heads into a kiss. 

Tamlin twisted his body to face Andras directly, yanked his hands away from the sheets, and buried them into other’s dark curls. Claws grazing so carefully along his scalp. “Tam,” Andras’ breathed into his lips before deepening the kiss. His hand tightened around Tamlin’s hip, just barely soft enough to not form a bruise. The other that was still cupped Tamlin’s cheek moved to tuck a blond lock of hair behind his ear. 

Andras tasted like coffee strong enough to kill the Bog, stolen cookies from the kitchens, and euphoria. 

Abruptly, just as quickly as it started, Andras drew his head back and pulled them both into sitting positions. Tamlin followed along like a ragdoll. Hands still tight in Andras’ hair. 

“Andras?” Tamlin said dazedly, and Andras just stared at him, yellow eyes boring into his. He placed a hand on the middle of Tamlin’s chest and the other underneath his chin. His thumb pulled on the bottom of Tamlin’s bruised lip. 

Slowly. Agonizingly slowly, he leaned in, closed his eyes, opened his mouth, and…

“Get your lazy ass out of bed.” Andras suddenly pushed Tamlin off the mattress, making him tumble onto the floor, dragging the sheets along with him in a messy heap. Tamlin’s back hit the ground with a hard thud. 

Tamlin stared blankly at the ceiling, uncomprehendingly. Andras poked his head like a gopher over the side of the mattress, that same wild grin from before painted on his face. 

“C’mon, Tam,” Andras cooed while Tamlin idly thought of all the ways to fucking strangle him. “The Court doesn’t run itself!”

Andras gracefully pushed himself off the bed, a bounce in his step, and skipped towards the door. He grabbed a hold of the handle, turned his head, and blew a kiss accompanied by a sultry wink.

“I’ll meet you in your office later after training the fresh meat. Until then, My Lord, Tamlin.”

Andras bowed low and slow, closed the door with a slam, and Tamlin swore he heard Andras whistling as he walked away. 

Tamlin was in love. 

#tamlin #andras #Tamdras #acotar fanfic #this may be cringe it passed SOMEBODY'S vibe check so its fine #TLDR Andras fucking dips because hes a lil shit #look at these fucking dorks

[vaguenotions]

Oh, yes, I just love your unannounced sleepover where you both come back from the bar after carefully avoiding telling me that's where you were going, and also neglecting to tell me when you'd be home! I definitely do not want to knock you on your ass and take a bat to your dome! That would be rude and unnecessary :)

Oh yes, please do start talking about shit amongst yourselves and make me feel isolated and othered in ny own room! These moments are what I live for, of course. Naturally. Who would ever have any issues with this arrangement at all?

#txt #might delete this later but i also might not because my irritation and rage is real and i shouldnt have to so constantly discard it #i am so tired of constantly putting it aside #i want your blood in my fucking teeth. and it's your fault i want it there- certainly- because I TRY. I try so hard not to feel this way #but eventually you get tired of those little games too #okay I drafted this for a minute bc idk if this fucker is actually spending the night or not i just know he took off his belt. BUT THEN ONE #+ OF THESE FUCKERS DECIDED TO START TALKING ABOUT SPIDERS. A THING THAT I HAVE A VERY BAD PHOBIA ABOUT. I AM GOING TO FUCKING KILL YOU #thinking of killing and maiming and maiming and killing and killing and shredding and tearing and killing and- #seriously though what. the fuck. you even go ''oh they're not gonna like this'' THEN HOW ABOUT YOU DONT FUCKING SAY IT #ohh and now you're sitting here making plans for when you go out without me next! I'm going to make you a bloody smear on my fucking floor #i am going to Dissect you. I'm going to rip you apart and feed you to the local strays and csrrion birds. #not even getting up and leaving right fucking now would assuage me. i wish i wasn't so full of fucking hate but you just keep adding fuel + #+to the fire #im so tired. I'll come back with a ''im fine now'' if he fucking leaves but im going to seethe now. im so fucking angry. #how do you fucks continually just bounce between the topics that makes me feel Most Violent Towards You? literally how do you not realize i #+ want you dead at this point? how do you not realize the grave you've dug for yourselves in my mind? #i dont fucking mask it that well. i know i dont. and still you fucking do this #((part of why it being a bar specifically that bothers me besides the very deliberate and careful avoidance of mentioning it to me is that #+*one of you is at serious risk for becoming an alcoholic. why the fuck are you being enabled this way?*)) #((if i was dating someone with a genetic predisposition of alcoholism i would make your regular dates nights- idk- NOT THE FUCKING BAR + #+ DISTRICT. DO YOU EVEN FUCKING CARE ABOUT THEM? DO YOU? This fucking boils my god damn blood.)) #(ultimately its their decision if they want to fucking drink yeah sure whatever YOU DONT NEED TO REGULARLY AND READILY ENABLE IT. BASTARD.) #(If they want to drink so fucking bad- if they push for the bars- JUST BUY SOME ALCOHOL AND BRING IT FUCKING HERE. It limits how much they+ #+can have for one- and it would isolate me from you two less! just as an added fucking bonus! but no very unreasonable of me. what was i + #+thinking? clearly not about them 🙄) #i might be a little out of line here. i can admit that. but if anyone spent a week in my fucking shoes back when they first got together + #+and then now? you would fucking understand. #and they just. keep. talking. to eachother. no attempts to include me. not even glances my way. like always. #''oh nothing will change'' IT FUCKING CHANGED. I want to hurt you so bsdly for that lie with ever passing day. do you even know it was a li #do you? anyway was abt to post this and noticed a gif i have of a woman ripping her shirt off so im going to stare at that until im calm ig.

[gojonanami]

❝ 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐎𝐖𝐍 𝐑𝐄𝐃 ! ❞

❝ A GOOD GIRL SUMMONING THE KING OF CURSES -- WHAT COULD GO WRONG? ❞

✧ pairing: heian form! ryomen sukuna x good girl! reader

✧ summary: you've always been a goody two shoes -- or so your friends say -- so what happens when you decide to do the first bad thing you've ever attempted and try summoning a demon -- and it actually works?

✧ warnings: 18+, nsfw, smut, dub/con / non/con (dead dove, do not eat), reader summons sukuna accidentally, monster fucking, corruption kink, reader is a virgin, dom! sukuna, heian form! sukuna, four arms, mouth stomach, size kink, oral (f + m) (f receiving via mouth stomach), handjob (m! receiving), fingering (f! receiving), sex (p in v), creampie, degradation kink (slut, whore), overstimulation (f! receiving), description of violence (no violence happens), art by @/danXL4 (on dA), dividers by @/saradika

✧ wc: 4,916

Summon a demon in your apartment, they said. It would be fun, they said. 

‘They’ meaning your stupid ass friends who were too fucking scared to stay here with you while you did it. 

Maybe you should’ve thought this through, preferably before you sat in a circle of blood (animal blood taken humanely that could not be used — don’t worry, you weren’t completely insane), and painted the symbols around the circle in the living room, your carpet rolled up, and on the precipice of unfurling, and your coffee table pushed aside. 

Your phone buzzed with messages in your group chat: 

Don’t do this, girl. 

Another message. 

What if it’s real? I don’t want something to happen to you - like I rather not have this on my conscience

What heartfelt pleas, you shook your head, as you put your phone on ‘do not disturb,’ and propped it up before opening the camera app and hitting record. 

Your fucking friends — it was all their fault to begin with. 

You grit your teeth, you are tired of being boring. You were always studying, always coming home early, always getting to class on time, always the fucking good girl, never getting fucked up or fucked for that matter. And your friends always taunted you for it — told you that you never lived a day in your life, that you’d always live sheltered in your apartment with your books and your streaming apps (which, you admitted, did sound pretty good to you) — but you wanted to prove them wrong. 

All the fuck they did that was daring was go to supposedly haunted sights and get the piss scared out of them — like yeah, that really was the wind, not some fucking ghost. If it was a ghost, pretty sure they would choose someone better to haunt — not a bunch of fucking pussies. 

You needed better friends. 

So for once — if only to get them to shut up — you wanted to do something crazy. 

You don’t know why a demon summoning was the hill you had chosen to die on, but you already climbed your way to the top of the hill, you supposed, so you might as well die on it. You looked through the Reddit thread you found on demon summoning (of course the most reliable of sources), looking over the incantation you were supposed to read, as you turned on your camera. 

Fuck. This was going to fucking dumb. You grabbed your lighter, lining up your candles around the circle, before kneeling in front of it. 

“To summon the King of Curses,” you read before you scoffed, what the fuck were you doing? ‘The King of Curses’ — they couldn’t even come up with anything more creative than that? Like no latin? Or even japanese folklore — no, instead the most generic ass of names, “To summon the King of Curses, you must read the following incantation,” you glance at your phone’s camera with lips pursed — you were going to prove a point — but why did it feel so goddamn stupid? 

You sighed, rubbing your forehead, as you suck in air between your teeth, and sighed, before reading the incantation: “Rise, Disgraced One — Oh, the King of the Golden Age that reigned supreme,” there was a chill that grazed the back of your neck, a slight breeze that raises goosebumps along your skin, “Open the Gate of Hell and let the King corrupt you. Fuga,” 

The flames on the candles shoot to the ceiling, as a scream lodges itself in your throat, as you barely scramble back enough to avoid getting your face burned off. The fire licks the ceiling, and a thick cloud of smoke floods your apartment, sweeping through the apartment, as you begin to cough, eyes burning with tears. 

“What the fuck—“ you reach for your phone in your pocket only to realize it’s still set up to record in that fucking mess of flames. You’re frozen, as you stand trying to recall what they taught you about fire safety growing up — is opening a window a good thing or a bad thing? Where’s the fire alarm? Do you even have a fire extinguisher? Thinking dangerous things through wasn’t your specialty, you supposed because you never did them. 

Fuck, if you died, you would become a fucking ghost and haunt your friends. 

But the flames ebb away, leaving some scorch marks on the ceiling (fun thing to explain to your landlord), as your lungs struggled to cope with the flood of smoke dispersing, the cloud so thick, you could barely see your hand in front of your face. The haze seared at your throat, drawing a smoker’s cough from your lungs, while your eyes could barely open, waterlogged by the sheer amount of tears spilling. 

You gently wipe tears away from your eyes, as you blink them away, until you stumble to your window to throw it open, coughing, as you stick your head out. 

“What the fuck,” you mumble, throat raw — was it the candles you bought? Were the candles somehow really fucking defective? Or did you somehow actually summon a demon? You snort, no, it was probably the candles. You leaned against the window sill, letting the smoke escape — as you finally were able to breathe again. 

You sigh, shutting the window, turning back around — only to find four eyes staring back. 

He was huge. A hulking mass of muscles, four arms, instead of two, and each one was possibly wider than your head, no shirt or covering to find the exposed skin — his dark blue pants hung low around his waist and above it was a weird groove in the middle of his stomach. 

Your eyes raise as he lifts his arm, as you flinch, but he only rakes his fingers through his dark pink hair, pushing it back roughly. showing off the hands of black around the middle of his bicep and his wrists. Broken lines wrap down from his shoulders into jagged points that end in the middle of his chest. Black dots adorn the sides of his shoulders, hollow vacuums that stared back at you. 

Two eyes on each side of his face — but his right eyes were raised, as if he bore a mask made of wood or raised skin — you didn’t know which — fused to his face. But something told you — as you took a step back — it wasn’t something you wanted to find out. 

“Are you the brat who dared to summon me?” And you freeze at the sound of his voice, ringing with such a weight, it nearly brought you to your knees. Your eyes fell to the ground, unable to bring yourself to look at him — your heart rattling against your ribs. His presence was a pressure, the air around you seemed to still, his voice ringing in your ears. Your muscles were drawn taut, unable to move — shivers ripping down your spine. 

“Yes,” you manage a whisper only, resisting the urge to squeeze your eyes shut. 

He gives a small chuckle, “So submissive for the one who dared to summon me,” his heavy footsteps out of the circle, melts the candles beside his foot to puddles of wax, “it has been eons since I’ve been able to roam free—“ he inhales, as you stand frozen, hearing his hulking form drawing even closer, “I can smell the humans, roaming free, wriggling like worms in the crevices of this place — I can’t wait to massacre them,” and then he pauses a moment, as he considers you. 

“Brat, look at me,” you swallow, as your head slowly rises to meet his gaze, his form towering over you, standing two steps away from you, letting you dwell in the void of his shadow, “tell me, what did you use to summon me?” 

You blink, “I found it—I don’t know—“ 

“Read it to me,” he orders — there’s no option to disobey, unless you’d love to be met with certain death. So you move slowly to your laptop, reading the incantation again, “‘and let the King corrupt you. Fuga,” 

His eyes narrow, as a slow smirk settles over his features, a smirk that sends an icy chill down your spine, “Woman, you have no idea what you’ve done, have you?” 

Two of his arms are crossed while one of the other’s reaches for you — and your eyes shut now — you are surely dead, but instead of a hand around your neck, you feel fingers grip your chin. 

You wait for the embrace of death (at least maybe you’d find better friends in the afterlife), but it never comes, instead you hear a deep chuckle, as another arm curls around your waist and brings you flush to him, “You humans are so tiny, so fragile, one wrong move and i could break you,” and another large hand is slipping down the curves of your body, “I suppose I’ll have to be a little careful — only for this to work, and I suppose for your benefit as well,” and your eyes finally dare to open and peek at him, only for his face to draw near, breath warming your lips, “I’m going to savor corrupting you, little one,” 

“What the fuck—“ you try to break away, but his grip is like iron shackles around your wrists, as he forces your arms around his waist, caged in by his own arms, “please let me go—“

Before you can even finish your plea, his lips meet yours, swallowing your gasp with a smirk. His large hands around your waist left no space for retreat, not that you’d make it far even if you tried. His kiss sent a slow burning heat throughout your body, a spark that grew in your belly that ignited when his tongue slid into your mouth. His touch only added fuel to the flame — his hands skimming over your sides slowly like warm honey sliding down your skin. 

He parts your kiss ruined lips, not before his teeth bite down on your bottom lip, a smirk on his lips as he sees your saliva slip down the corner of your mouth. Your lips parted and puffy as he drags his thumb down them, eyes blown out with pleasure. 

“That’s it, give in,” and the haze that settles over you is thick and unforgiving, unable to see anything but the King of Curses before you and unable to need anything but pleasure at his hands. 

“Please,” a small hint of resistance remained stubbornly — you couldn’t let this monster have his way with you — for fuck’s sake, much less lose your virginity to him, “I can’t,” 

“But you want to,” he hums, as large fingers tug at your flimsy shorts, the fabric tearing with ease, until it was in shreds, a shiver running up your spine at the thought that your limbs could have been too, “your mouth says one thing, brat, but your lower lips,” a thick finger presses at the wet patch on your panties, rubbing against your puffy clit, “say another,” 

You whimper, as his finger bears down harshly through the thin fabric, “please,” you swallow, as he leans down to lick the drool from your lips, “please—“ 

“Please, what, little one?” he chuckles, as he presses wet kisses up your jaw, “I can’t give you what you want if you don’t tell me,” your knees are beginning to buckle, as the ache between your legs only grows, “I know you must look pretty when you cry, so do you want to cry for me, brat?” and his piercing gaze nearly brings you tears along, “because I can give you something to cry about,” 

“Do you ever shut up?” you mutter, but that only seems to make the corner of his lip tug upwards. 

“I can make you shut up,” And two hands squeeze your hips roughly, while another slips under your shirt, “No undercovering? It’s as if you wanted this all long,” he chides, a huff in his voice, as his finger teases your pert nipple between his thumb and forefinger, pinching and pulling, drawing a yelp from your lips, “hoping for an incubus or some other curse or demon?” he’s tugging down his pants, revealing his dick—-if you could call it that. 

Fuck, was that a cock or another appendage all together? Far thicker and longer than any male anatomy you’ve seen depicted or described in even the filthiest corners of the internet — pretty veins running up the sides, as a mess of pre-cum dripped off the engorged tip, flushed red with need. 

“Why did you summon me?” he demands to know as he leans down to take a nipple between his lips, and you know you have no choice but to answer. 

“I wanted to prove to my friends that I wasn’t—” it was so pathetic now, as you stood before a literal deity of death, “wasn’t just a good girl,” 

He chuckles, a bark more than a laugh almost, as you swallow thickly as your eyes can’t tear away from the sight of his dick — would he kill you with it instead of his hands? 

“Well, you aren’t anymore are you?” he scoffs, and you fail to notice his hand shifting to tug your underwear off, a gasp ripped from you, as another hand brushed against your bare cunt roughly, “Look at how fucking wet you are already, slut, so much already leaking all over my fingers,” he shows you the strings of pre-cum connecting his fingers, before he brings his fingers to his lips and his tongue darts out to lick them clean, “I’d say no respectable woman would be dripping this much if she was so good,” he hums, before sighing mockingly, “although, perhaps I should preserve your sanctity, even a little. It would be unfortunate to leave you like this — even more so, to leave myself like this, but if that is truly what’s for the best—“ his grip begins to loosen, but your fingers find his shoulder. 

Two words manage to leave your lips — and you don’t know whether it’s that you’re under his spell or under your own — but you know that you need this “Don’t go,” 

His lips curl. He wasn’t going to begin with — but it was so much easier if you gave in. 

~~~

“C’mon little one, you were so eager only a moment ago,” The King of Curses chides, amusement threaded through his tone from behind you, watching as you nearly straddled his stomach — though you had realized it wasn’t just a stomach. A tongue flicked out over lips that formed over the middle of his abdomen, right under you. 

“I didn’t know—“ your cheeks warmed, your walls fluttering at that thought of that tongue against your leaking cunt. 

“Yet you’re so eager,” he scoffs, before using a large hand to tug you against it as two hands settle against your waist to hold you in place, “and I’ve run out of patience, so be a good whore and take my cock,” and he’s pushing your head down, sharp fingernails digging into your scalp, as his large cock slaps your face, smearing his pre cum over your cheek and lips. 

Your lips part, the tip of your tongue tracing his weeping slit, drawing a hiss from his lips, before your mouth engulfs the head, while your fingers curl around his thick base. And as you do, you feel his tongue drag over the length of your cunt, making you gasp around his cock. 

His mouth and tongue are even larger than the one on his face, slurping and sucking, as his tongue begins to work its way inside your needy cunt. 

“Don’t slack, brat,” his hand pushing your head further down on his cock, nearly burying your face in his pubes, “come on, do a good job, and I may even give you the pleasure of being fucked by me,” 

You force yourself to focus on sucking his cock, tracing the pretty veins with your tongue, before suckling at the tip, savoring the groan you draw from his lips. The squelch of your cunt as his tongue begins to fuck you open, thicker than even four of your fingers, fills your ears. Two of his hands find your tits, tweaking and twisting your nipples, squeezing as he presses the flat of his palms against your breasts, only for tongues to dart out from his palms. You gasp around his length, as his other mouths suck at your tits, swirling their tongue around it. 

His hips jerk against your mouth when your fingers cup his balls, and he thrusts, “You can do better,” he grunts, as his tip grazes your throat, his mouth closing around your clit and sucking, hard, and you’re grinding on his abs and mouth now, toes curling as you cum, and his mouth only eagerly swallows it, the sticky release coating his abs. 

His cock twitches in your mouth as you moan around it, as you recover from your orgasm, beginning to suck at his cock, nearly high off the pleasure, as you fondle his balls, bobbing your head up and down, until he’s finally groaning, his hot release flooding your mouth. 

“Don’t waste a drop,” he growls, as you swallow it, blissed out and panting, as your lips leave his weeping cock, slapping against your cheek as he lifts you easily and places you on your back, “don’t tell me you’re done after that, little one,” and your eyes slide down to see his somehow still erect dick, standing tall as he kneels on your bed, his hulking form burying you in his shadow, “because I’m far from done yet,” his cock twitches at the sight of your lips, a swollen mess from sucking him off, a mix of his cum and your saliva all over your face. 

“Please, I can’t—“ you whine, shaking your head, but two hands are already spreading your folds, your cunt fluttering around nothing, as if already craving to have his dick buried in it. 

“Your cunt seems to disagree, little one,” as he drags a thick digit around your clit, before pinching it, as you keen under his touch, “you’re drenched for me, begging for me to take you,” and his thumb is now rubbing circles around your puffy clit while he sinks a finger into you knuckle deep, “I just have to make sure you can fit me in this tight hole of yours,” your head falls back against the pillow as he’s knuckle deep, another large finger already pushing into your slick walls, “still so tight despite all the time I took to open you up,” he clicked his tongue, a smirk on his lips, as his fingers find the spongy spot that makes your fingers fist at the sheets, as your release squirts over his fingers, your body boneless as pleasure buzzes through every inch of your body, until you finally start come down. 

But as soon as you even begin to, his fingers begin to move again, fucking you through your orgasm, and quickly into another. 

“Ngh, no, no, not yet—” your voice is caught in your throat, words leaving your lips in a hurry because you know surely his fingers would rip any coherent thought from your mind in a moment. 

But he does not relent, only finger fucking you harder, “I have to be careful to open you up, otherwise, I very well may break you in two, wouldn’t I? Such fragile things, you humans are — already squealing? I haven’t even added a third finger yet,” he scoffs, as he hums, “have you not been deflowered yet, brat?” 

And your pussy gives a telltale flutter that only has his lips curling further, a flash of his canines sending a chill down your spine, “I-I—”

“No need for your answer, pet, your body gave me the answer itself,” he hums, “then this will take a bit longer than I thought—” as his fingers curl and drag over your walls, before scissoring apart, “I’d prefer for you to be conscious when I take your virginity, but I don’t mind if you’re not,” 

And a fourth finger presses at your slick hole, making you whimper, “Please, I can’t—” but he does not relent, four fingers now fucking you open, as your mouth parts in a silent scream, back arching as they work you open. Your body lies on slick drenched sheets, the smell and sound of your arousal only making his need grow, holding back if only not to ruin you completely — he needed you still, needed this to work. And he wasn’t sure what’d happen if he’d break you completely — and he knew he could far too easily. Already he could feel your blood rushing under his touch, the small gasps and moans could turn to screams with just a finger barely lifted, the slick painted over with scarlet. 

But he doesn’t. He can’t. Not when he’s so close. And soon enough he won’t need you — but he can only cross that bridge when he gets there. 

Or rather, when you get there. 

~~~

“Brat, c’mon, keep your eyes open, we’re almost there,” Sukuna barks, as his fingers grip your chin, and force your gaze to him. How many orgasms had he given you? Seven or eight ? Maybe more. Sweat and cum clung to your skin, sticky and hot, as he continued to fuck you open, “think this virgin hole is finally ready for my cock, listen to it,” the loud squelch of your cunt as he thrust his fingers in and out had almost become white noise to you — and the sweet stretch of your pussy around his fingers had become second nature. 

And finally he’s pulling his fingers from you, digits shiny and dripping with your release, sliding down your palm and wrist, as he brought them to his mouth to lick it clean, before offering it to his mouth on his stomach as well. He watches you all fucked out before him, legs spread along with your cunt that fluttered around nothing, waiting for him to slot his cock between your folds and sink in. He grunts, fuck, his balls still feel so full, even after cumming down your throat, aching to cum in your sweet cunt, see him fill your womb with his seed, the sweet release he had been craving for far too long. 

“You still want my cock still, little one? Or are you too tired for it now?” he drags his leaking cock over your dripping folds, letting it tease your swollen clit as his pre cum mixes with your own, “maybe I should leave you like this, let you beg and beg for me until you’re writhing for me,”

You’re panting, the ache inside your pussy too much for you to bear — you were melting without him inside, the only thing to quench your need, your thirst — he was the only thing that could even begin to make it ebb. 

“Please, please, my King,” your words are nearly sobs, pretty tears slipping down your cheeks, as your chest heaves with need — want far gone several hours ago, leaving only you with a desperation that would drive you mad, “I need you, need you take me, need you to fuck me,” 

And his lips curl, “I thought you’d never ask, brat,” and he’s settling himself between your parted legs, pressing them back against your stomach, “although even if you didn’t, I’d help myself — because you summoned me after all, didn’t you, little one?” As he uses another arm to cup your chin, “watch me as I sink into you,” 

Your cunt quivers as he presses his head to your entrance, as he uses your slick to wet his cock, “I’ll go slow at first, but once I’m inside, I have no intention of stopping, no matter how much you beg,” 

It was a warning, a warning that there was no going back — but there was no going back from the moment you summoned this curse onto your doorstep — there was a descent into depravity, and how quickly you’d make it to the bottom. 

The tip of his cock barely parts your folds, and you’re already whining about how full it feels — your walls fluttering as if trying to either  accommodate his girth or push him out all together. He saw the faint drip of scarlet as he worked himself in, inch by inch — as your fingers found purchase in his forearms, nails digging crescents into his flesh. 

“F-fuck, ngh, Too big, Sukuna, I can’t—“ and he can already feel your pussy give the telltale flutter of an orgasm, a cry ripped from your throat, as you cum, walls only pulling him in deeper and deeper — as if they never wanted to let go. 

And finally, finally, he bottoms out, his hips pressed flush to your aching cunt, and he stills — it had been so long since he had enjoyed the body of a virgin, but he was sure you were the sweetest and tightest cunt he’d ever had. 

Your cries made him scoff, tears streaming down your ruined face, it made his cock twitch —you were so small compared to him, a tiny pebble waiting to be crushed, but instead he held you in the palm of his hand. You were his to have, his to break, and his to corrupt. 

“I told you there was no stopping,” he grunts as another hand settles on your stomach, on top of the slight bulge that came with his cock sinking into you, “can you feel me touching the deepest parts of you?” And he takes the whimper as a yes, “get accustomed to it, because this cunt shall be my breeding ground for as long as I see fit,”

And he finally pulls out only to sink back into your sweet depths, knocking the breath from your lungs. He starts slow, if only to spare you from breaking — because he knows so easily could. The wet squelch of your cunt rings in his ears, as he watches his thick cock sink in and out of your pussy again and again. 

 “Look at you, barely able to take my fingers and now you’re taking my cock so well,” he groans at the sight of your stretched pussy, as it took his cock over and over, molding its very shape to his length, as the slap of your skin against his became like a metronome, “such a perfect little whore, aren’t you?” and you moaned at his words, the sound of which made your cheeks burn with shame — “don’t worry, even if you aren’t, little one,” his fingers find your clit, rubbing and twisting until you come again, hard, your back arching as you do, fingernails nearly drawing blood from his arms as you do. 

He hums, as he only fucks you through your orgasm, even as you try to squirm away from him, it’s all in vain — because you’re his now, “Oi, brat, where are you going? You won’t like what I’ll do if you try to get away again — your only place now is under me,” and his hands find his way under your ass as he shifts you onto his lap, “or on this throne,” and he fucks into you, brutally, again and again, your arms clinging around his neck desperately, as a hand on the back of your head guides your lips to his, “tongue out,” he orders, and you do as he says, as the two of you meet in a sloppy kiss. 

And his hands shift to your hips, bruising as they help you ride him, meeting his thrusts with your own, until he’s finally hitting your cervix that has you squirting, drenching him in your release as your walls shudder around him. And his lips leave yours a moment, before they kiss down your jaw to your neck, his teeth sinking into the soft skin at the juncture of your neck and shoulder, drawing a yelp from your lips. 

He groans, a guttural noise from his chest, as he notches himself as deep as he can before cumming, his hot release spurting out and painting your walls, as he continues to fuck it deeper and deeper, the snaps of his hips finally slowing, as he pulls away from your neck, enjoying the blood that pools in the ridges of his bite mark. 

“Such a good little slut, aren’t you?” he hums, as he cups your lolling head, eyes thick with sleep and body heavy with exhaustion, you hear his quiet voice murmur, “I was only going to corrupt you for the sake of completing the summons you gave — I had no choice if I wanted to stay on this plane, but,” he hums, as pulls his cock from you with a gasp on your lips, before he has you flipped onto your stomach in a moment, sheathing his thick length back into you in one thrust, “I think I just might keep you, brat,” your eyes flutter shut, as his words fade from your consciousness, until a mean spank to your ass jolts you from your retreat into Hypnos’s arms. 

No — as you turned your head ever so slowly to get Sukuna’s face in your periphery — you only answered to one god now. 

The King of Curses’ lips curled in a cruel smirk, as he drew his hips back before slamming back in, “Let’s show the world truly how depraved you are, brat, hm? Together.” 

✧ a/n: this is my first time writing sukuna so i hope i was able to do him justice. i was gonna do the whole two dick thing, but i was already like...this is complicated enough lmao.

✧ taglist: @pricetagofficial, @kentocalls, @angie-1306, @fayyyrieee, @dontshuugo, @zz-snow-zz, @viveriens, @sunflowmaryam, @eclipsephase, @merrymonkey, @leilannnnnnni, @spider-fan72, @temptationville, @gojos-princesa, @yell0wdreams, @achelliescomedown, @hiyori-ii, @bunninio, @grunge-mo0n, @diogodxlot, @littlecrybabys-world, @esuz, @unnamedflwr, @lemonpoppy-seed, @corkedscrewslocked, @bsaeshell, @methodofawesome, @rinvrin, @noveltywilbur, @ch0c0bsess, @sarcasticbitchsblog, @simpingnbitching, @aethyrite, @aitheria, @sweetpanda15, @daddytojji, @kindadolly, @kimnamjoonsbigtoe, @catsgomurp, @dhoranbolt, @kariatenoh, @hanxyy

#sab [mlist] #sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna smut #sukuna smut #sukuna x you #ryomen sukuna x you #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jjk fanfiction #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #sukuna fanfiction #ryomen sukuna fanfiction

[nientedal]

What progress at home has biden enacted? What policies of his show that he is making progress that prove he is actually different than trump?

I like to pretend I have faith in humanity, so I'll answer as if you're asking this in good faith.

Biden's DEA has lifted restrictions on telehealth prescriptions to make appointments and assistance more accessible.

He put a funding package into place to help unhoused people get access to mental and physical healthcare, as well as short-term and long-term housing.

He has attempted and is still attempting to get student debt relief through - this was blocked by Republican judges appointed by Trump, but he's still working on it.

Infrastructure repair - his administration has budgeted funds to actually fix some severely-damaged and frequently-traveled bridges.

Trying to expand access to healthcare to include undocumented immigrants who came to the USA as children (Dreamers) under the Affordable Care Act. Support for Navigator programs and outreach has also been increased.

He has vetoed Republican-led bills that were attempting to overturn environmental protections - one that would have forbidden investment fund managers to consider climate change in their portfolios (I have two degrees in accounting and this is actually huge), and another that would have overturned restrictions on agricultural runoff into our waterways.

He and his administration worked for ages to get rail workers paid sick days.

This is just some of what he's been doing. Meanwhile, Trump and other Republicans want to criminalize the lives of LGBT people like you and me. They want to eliminate no-fault divorce and force births that will kill parents or devastate them financially. They have stated flat out that they want to install a military dictatorship in the USA. They attempted to put that in motion on January 6th, 2021. They failed once. They will do better next time.

One party wants to house the homeless and expand social safety nets, while the other one wants to criminalize homelessness. One of them wants a future in which I might be able to vote to change how much of a war machine my country is, while the other one wants to eliminate my ability to vote entirely. Those are not the same. Those literally are opposites.

At the end of the day, all you and I can do is choose to do the least amount of harm possible. You and I cannot choose to do no harm. This is the USA, we sell war, you and I cannot choose to do no harm. I wish we could, my god do I wish we could, but that is not an option. So we grieve for the harm we couldn't eliminate and work to minimize the harm that is done. Despite all the crap they support, Democrats are the minimum amount of harm right now. Acting like they aren't is exactly what brought us to an election where our options are a future where we are either wading in blood or drowning in it.

Not voting for Biden will not help Palestine. Not voting for Biden will guarantee a Republican president who will make the situation in Palestine WORSE. AND it'll hurt a lot of other places as well, both at home and abroad, because Republicans are about business and the USA is in the business of war! And I would very much like that to change someday! I would very much like to someday be able to choose to do no harm! And I know what I have to do to try for that future, so what are YOU going to do? There is no standing off to the side in this. If you aren't helping pull, you're the dead weight we're pulling. Are you going to dig your feet into the mud and blood and drown us there? Or are you going to get the fuck off your ass, grit your teeth, and help us pull free?

#askbasket #iam-the-wild #us politics #israel #palestine #if you do not vote blue you do not get to call yourself an antifascist #i HATE that that's the case; don't mistake me #but that is the reality we're working with #there isn't any other #do nothing and kill five people or act and kill one. #so what are you gonna do? i can't choose for you. but i know what my choice is. #i'm part of this world. and as much as i hate it...turning away is not one of the options. #we fight on ALL fronts #we protest we donate we write we call #AND WE ALSO FUCKING VOTE FOR THE LEAST OF THE EVILS. BECAUSE NO EVIL IS NOT AN OPTION.

[bluebeary-jay]

Damage done

Pre/No-outbreak!Joel Miller x f!Reader

Summary: during a fight with Joel, he unknowingly sends you into a panic attack caused by your previous experiences. he deeply regrets it. (based on this wonderful ask!)

Tags: heavy ANGST, hurt/comfort, angst with happy ending (there's also fluff), established relationship, petnames, soft!Joel (he's trying his best fr 🥺). Several years pre outbreak. please read the warnings carefully

Warnings: fighting, talk and mention about previous abusive relationship, panic attack, emotional distress, self-destructive thoughts

Word count: 4K

A/N: i wrote it partially based on experiences with my own panic attacks, but i know everyone's is different. if there's a warning i missed, please let me know. also i want this man to take care of me so much 😢 anyway, stay safe, darlings, and as always: happy reading and i hope you'll enjoy!! 💕 comments and feedback are greatly appreciated 😌

It had been a rough couple of weeks. Things at your work were rocky to say the least, what with your boss firing several people every week and cutting your salary. Joel didn’t have it much better – from what you understood, two clients suddenly canceled their order, and Tommy got himself thrown into jail, again, breaking his longest record to date. On top of that, little Sarah went down with some kind of flu that was raging in schools recently, and for the last two weeks one of you had to be home with her almost all the time.

So it was probably no wonder that the tension and stress became too much at one point, and you both snapped.

It was about the play at Sarah’s school.

“You promised her, Joel! She was talking about it for the entire week.”

“It’s not my fault we have to go out of town on this date,” he answered through clenched teeth, pinching the bridge of his nose and not looking up at you. “I tried to reschedule, but the commissioning party refused. I can’t help it, for fuck’s sake.”

You were glad Sarah wasn’t home right now to listen to your fight. You dropped her off earlier at her friend’s house because she wanted to practice lines for the play they were doing next week. The play that Joel was apparently planning to miss.

You adored Joel – god, you loved him with all that you had – but he could be so stubborn sometimes, it was driving you up the fricking wall.

“It’s your kid, Joel–”

“Yeah, it’s my kid!” he raised his voice, only now lifting his head. His stare was cold and hard, so unlike how he usually looked at you. “Not yours.”

“Are you kidding me?!” you shouted, hurt by his words and the tone he used. “I’ve been taking care of her, loving her– She is like a daughter to me!”

“But still not yours,” he repeated harshly. That was a low blow, especially when he told you so many times that you might not be Sarah’s biological mother, but it’s obvious you love her like she’s your own blood.

“You’re only saying that ‘cause you know I’m right,” you snarled angrily, and Joel huffed a humorless laugh.

“Of course. You always know better, dont’cha?” He stood up, towering over you, but you didn’t back down. If anything, it only made you more mad, as if he was doing this to intimidate you. “I’m sorry I’m such a terrible father in your eyes, but I have to think about earning money. Especially since it’s only a matter of time ‘till that asshole boss of yours will fire you, too.”

“What the fuck’s that supposed to mean?! You really think so lowly of me to say it won’t be long until I get fired?”

“I don’t– Christ, you’re puttin’ words in my mouth again.”

“Again. Of course.” You spat out and took your sweatshirt from the couch, done with him and this conversation. “I’m going to my home,” you told him dryly. Joel’s nostrils flared and he took a step forward.

“No, you’re not.”

“Fuckin’ watch me,” you muttered under your breath, but loud enough for him to hear.

“We are not finished!!” Joel screamed, his booming voice echoing throughout the house.

It felt like a slap. In one second you froze, all your muscles seized up and a feeling of coldness gripped your heart and throat, sending panic flooding your veins. The sweatshirt you were holding slipped out from your stiff fingers.

Joel has never raised his voice at you like that. Never with such anger and fury. There was a bite to his tone that you couldn’t explain, but which you knew very well – the telltale sign that you went too far, and the other person’s patience was at an end, that now you were going to pay for it.

Your previous boyfriend taught you what it means. It meant bruises and split lips, and screaming when you started crying…

Joel noticed the shift in your behavior right away, and his anger immediately ebbed, replaced by confusion and concern.

“Darlin’?” he murmured the pet name, though it rolled off his tongue heavily and with difficulty.

He was still furious at you and your refusal to understand what he was going through, but it all died down when he saw how wide, how empty your eyes were. Your knees buckled, and you looked like you could fall down at any moment.

Joel didn’t have any idea what was happening with you – but knew that whatever it was, it was his fault.

You, in the meantime, felt like you couldn’t breathe. The man in front of you – you weren’t even sure anymore who that was – took a step forward with his hand lifted, and you quickly backed away, stumbling in the process.

“No! N-no, no, please, I’m sorry–” you started blabbering and sobbing, wrapping one arm around your middle to protect all the main internal organs. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to–”

“No, you didn’t…”

“Please… I’m sorry, I swear,” you cried, trembling at this point, but not daring to escape the room. “I’ll be better, just don’t… Please, don’t…”

Joel’s heart broke when he saw you bursting into tears and trying to make yourself as small as possible. All his anger disappeared in a cloud of smoke, replaced by the overpowering need to comfort the girl he loved.

But you seemed so scared when he wanted to come closer… And he didn’t know how to proceed.

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” he repeated in an even softer tone, his eyebrows scrunching in worry. “Sweetheart… M’not gonna hurt you.”

He took another slow step forward, but that seemed to already be too much, because the trembling intensified and you practically slumped against the wall, one arm around your stomach, and the other squeezing your throat tightly. Joel feared to know the reason why you would do that to yourself.

“Stop, plea– I can’t– I’m sorry, I’m sorry…”

“No, it’s okay, my baby, it’s alright…”

He fell down to his knees next to you and reached to take you in his arms, but you started shaking your head violently, backing away and squirming out of his reach.

“No, no, please, I’m sorry! Don’t– don’t touch me!!”

A bile rose up in his throat, and he retreated his hands, holding them low in front of him to show he’s not going to do anything.

“It’s alright, babygirl,” he muttered chokingly, feeling completely helpless and lost about what to do. “You… you’re safe.”

You were crying uncontrollably now, though it seemed like you tried to stifle the never-ending sobs and tears flowing out of your eyes, in result making your entire body shake. You flinched – actually flinched – when Joel opened his mouth, and your fingers around your throat tightened their grip.

“No,” Joel said decisively, breaking your wish and grabbing your wrists, moving them away from your neck where red crescents started to form. “Baby, please, don’t.”

“Let go!!” It was hard to distinguish the words from between your cries, but the message your body language was conveying was clear as day. “No, don’t… me…” You sobbed again, quickly weakening despite your efforts. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry…”

“Come ‘ere,” Joel whispered in a voice full of pain, carefully shifting closer and wrapping his arms around you, though being careful not to make you feel too crowded or trapped. “Shhh… it’s Joel, darlin’, m’here.”

Surprisingly, you let him hold you – maybe it was just because you didn’t have strength to resist and fight back anymore, Joel thought, but maybe you recognized him. Maybe it was both. But the tears didn’t stop. No matter how gently he stroked your back or whispered reassuring words, you couldn’t seem to stop crying.

Several times in the next couple of minutes you tried to grasp your neck or arm again, but every time he delicately, though firmly, moved them away. You still babbled half-intelligible apologies and pleas, and each time your voice broke or hitched on another fearful word, Joel’s heart was shattering into a million pieces all over again.

“I’m sorry…” you sobbed again, trembling in his arms. “I’m sorry, don’t hurt me, p-please–...”

“My darlin’...” Joel held you closer and more securely in his arms, rocking you back and forth. “Sweetheart, my sweet, sweet girl… I’m never gonna hurt you, I swear.” He planted soft, delicate kisses on your hair. Even though he wanted to hug you tightly, to show you how much he loves and cares about you, he restrained himself and tried to keep his touch as gentle as possible. “I swear, my babygirl, m’sorry, so sorry for screamin’... Didn’t mean to.”

You were still crying, albeit weaker now, in his arms, clinging to him like your life depended on it. Joel could feel your nails digging themselves into the skin of his back, but it was the furthest thing on his mind – hell, he could start bleeding and still it wouldn’t be as important as comforting you at this moment. Better him than you.

“I love you s’much, my babygirl, my life,” Joel continued murmuring into the top of your head, feeling close to crying himself when your tears seemingly couldn’t stop flowing. “M’so sorry. I won’t ever hurt you like that again, I swear…”

His words, though full of love and compassion, rolled off you like water off a duck’s back, and you still couldn’t locate yourself, couldn’t tether your being to this world and make sense of the difference between what you knew should happen, and what was actually happening.

Your whole body was hurting, yes, but it wasn’t the pain of being repeatedly hit. You could barely hear your own cries, but it wasn’t because of vicious and cruel words being thrown at you. You knew it was Joel you were clinging to, and he never hurt you in this way, but… but you also were never so angry at each other. You never fought like this – and experience taught you that crossing that invisible line will carry certain consequences.

You weren’t angry now. You were scared. And confused.

“Joel,” you whimpered between gasps, struggling to breathe through your rapid sobs. “I’m sorry. Please, don’t– don’t go.”

“M’not leavin’ ya, babygirl.” He spoke into your hair, closing his eyes. “M’not goin’ anywhere.”

You were calming down a little now, the sobs wrecking your body and breaking Joel’s heart dying down, though you were still shivering. Joel continued to hold and soothe you the best he could.

And wondered who must’ve hurt his darling so much that you’d react so badly.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered after a while, sniffling into Joel’s chest, but trying not to get snots on his shirt. Joel sighed sadly, but his hold on you just tightened.

“No, babygirl, my darlin’...” He pressed his lips to your hairline, stroking your back with his other hand. “You have nothin’ to be sorry for, I swear. It’s okay.”

“It’s not,” you whimpered pitifully, unable to stop another wave of tears from falling. “I’m sorry I reacted like that. I know… Joel, I know you won’t hurt me. Baby, please.” You took his head in your hands, searching his eyes with fear painted across your face. “I’m so sorry, wasn’t thinking and…”

“Hey. Love, it’s fine.” He placed his own hands on your cheeks, stroking lightly your damp skin with his thumbs. “Don’t say that. M’not angry at you and would never be because of that. It’s… it’s okay.” He petted your hair, trying to relax for your sake, but his chest remained tight. “It’s gonna be okay, I promise.”

You nodded weakly, though you weren’t sure if you believed him. Joel swallowed heavily and nodded after a while, too.

“Okay. I… I’ll run you a bath,” he whispered, but you held his hand tighter and shook your head with tears gathering in your eyes again.

“No, no! Just s-stay with me, please.”

Joel took your face in his hands, but you closed your eyes, feeling too vulnerable and exhausted to even try to maintain eye contact.

“I’m here, baby. C’mon, just hold onto me.”

He waited until your arms were around his neck before slowly standing up and tucking you securely in his arms. You hid your wet face in the crook of Joel’s neck, breathing in his soothing smell and trying to calm your breathing, which you still found difficult.

Neither of you said anything when he took you to the bathroom, sat down on the toilet seat and started to fill the bathtub with water and soothing oils. You just watched him, wiping your nose every once in a while.

Still remaining silent, Joel extended his hand and helped you stand up. Then, almost with fearful hesitation, he touched the hem of your shirt, sending you a questioning look. You just nodded, not having strength to undress yourself, and lifted your arms, letting him take your clothes off.

You didn’t let go of his hand even after he guided you to sit in the tub. You couldn’t bear being alone with your thoughts right now, and Joel, being as wonderful of a man as he was, stayed by your side as the warmth from the water seeped through your tired bones.

Another several minutes passed before he finally asked the question that was gnawing at him since the very beginning. You must’ve subconsciously known it was coming, cause it didn’t even surprise you.

“Who was it?” he asked quietly. His hand was still caressing your palm with the gentlest of touches, but his eyes were like ice, full of hidden rage and hatred. “Who did this to you, darlin’?”

You wrapped your arms around yourself, not sure whether to answer or not. Ever since you got to know him, Joel has been nothing but kind and understanding, never pressuring you into doing or saying something you didn’t want… but you had a feeling he wasn’t going to let the matter drop.

And honestly, you were afraid to tell him. To admit how your previous relationship looked and what exactly happened to make you act so strongly about something so small. Because… what if he’ll realize how broken you are, how much effort it’d take to put up with you, and he’ll leave? Even if he was willing to take care of you, it was really unlikely that he’d stay – even if he says that now.

You were doing good until today. You managed to hide the issues you had with yourself and all the pain you carried inside, never letting Joel know that something was wrong with you. But now he… he will…

You didn’t want him to leave. He made your life so much better and you loved him to pieces with all your heart, as weak and broken as it was.

You couldn’t lose him.

“Oh, baby…” Joel’s hands cupped your cheeks so carefully and lovingly that you almost started weeping again. “M’not goin’ anywhere. I love ya so much. You’re never gonna lose me.”

You didn’t realize you said those words out loud, but even so, somehow his affirmations didn’t make you feel any better. You wanted them to comfort you, but if anything, they just made you feel sick.

“I’m afraid you’re gonna leave someday,” you whispered hoarsely, keeping your eyes on the slowly disappearing bubbles. “I know I’m being selfish, but I don’t want you to. You’re the best thing that ever happened to me, Joel. I…” Tears spilled from your eyes again and you shook your head. “I know I’m too much. And… and broken. And I know it sounds like I wanna guilt-trip you, but I’m not, I’m just–” You choked on a sob, and wrapped your arms tighter around yourself, hugging your knees to your chest. “I don’t– don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

“Sweetheart, look at me, please.” Joel’s hands were rough to the touch, but so incredibly gentle when they guided you to meet his eyes, and a big pit formed in your stomach when you saw how they shone. He was on the verge of tears, too. “Don’t say things like that. Nothin’ is wrong with you. Who…” He sighed again. “Who made you believe such things?”

You didn’t answer at first, but Joel kept staring at you, and – finally – you relented.

“My previous boyfriend. The one I didn’t want to talk about. He– Look, I know he was a horrible person.” You let out a short laugh, but without any joy – or emotions altogether – in it. “And I hate him so much, but he… he was right. About some things.”

“He’s not.” Joel didn’t back down, feeling despair growing inside his chest as he saw the girl he adored with his whole heart put herself down like that. “You’re… fuck, you’re perfect, darlin’, and you didn’t deserve to be treated or talked to this way. M’so sorry it happened to you.”

He brushed some of your hair to the back and sighed silently. He seemed so lost and sad, it made you feel even worse.

“What can I do?”

That stopped the train of your thoughts, and you looked up.

“What?”

“What can I do?” he repeated softly. “To prove t’you that I’m not goin’ anywhere.”

Your lips parted, and you were unsure what to say. Joel took your hand in his, delicately tracing patterns on the back of it.

“Babygirl, listen to me. You’re the most precious thing t’me. I don’t care what this asshole told you, but… but none of this is true. And it’s not gonna drive me away from you. Nothin’ is gonna make me leave,” he repeated more firmly, never taking his eyes off you. “Because I love you. More than anythin’ else in the world”

Joel sounded so sincere and desperate, tugging at your heartstrings with his gentle, sad eyes and loving words. The water became cool some time ago, but your insides felt like they were on fire – as if the next breath you were about to take would be your last.

“I’m sorry for everything I said.” You took a shaky breath, trying to keep your voice steady. “I don’t think you’re a bad father. I think you’re the best and most amazing dad Sarah could ever ask for. I didn’t want…” You sniffed and your shoulders started to shake again with silent cries. “I didn’t want to hurt you, I’m so sorry, I didn’t–”

The sob that you tried to stop with all your might suddenly escaped you, and Joel’s forehead scrunched in worry. He pulled you closer, leaning over the edge of the bathtub. Neither of you concerned yourself with water dripping off your skin, only feeling relieved from each other’s closeness.

“I know, babygirl. M’not mad.” Joel left a lingering kiss on your tearstained cheek, and then a second one on your forehead. “I’m sorry, too. For how I acted and for–” he sighed heavily into your shoulder, “for shouting at ya.”

“You couldn’t have known,” you mumbled, but he shook his head.

“That’s no excuse. I shouldn’t ‘ave done it in the first place.” He relaxed in your arms, and somehow it made your muscles less tense, too. “I’ll see what I can do about that job. So that I can see Sarah’s play.”

You nodded and let your eyelids drop, giving in to the feeling of calm and security that always came with being with Joel.

“Can I sleep here tonight?” you asked quietly. You still were a little afraid that he’s going to turn you down after what happened, but you really didn’t want to stay alone. “With you?”

“‘Course you can. D’ya want to go now?”

You nodded again. Not bathing seemed like a big waste of water, but you didn’t feel strong enough to actually wash your body. And Joel didn’t pressure you – he just bent over and wrapped his strong arms around you, practically pulling you out of the tub by himself.

His clothes were completely soaked when he put you down and reached for the fluffiest towel you had, wrapping it around you like a little cocoon. He got rid of his wet shirt, kissed your head gently and, without a word, scooped you up into his arms again.

“I can stand,” you offered when he started walking towards the bedroom, forcing you to wrap your hands around his neck for support.

“I want to take care of you.”

“But your back pains…”

“I’m not that old yet, sweetheart,” he answered with a half-smile, slowing down and gazing into your eyes softly. “Let me take care of you.”

You brushed his cheek with your fingertips tenderly, eyes flickering across his face. “But you’re always taking care of everyone, Joel.”

His throat bobbed and he almost immediately looked away. It was clear what he was thinking – that according to himself, he wasn’t doing a good enough job. Because you got hurt. Because he was the one who unintentionally hurt you and sent you into a panic attack.

He was silent when he put you down on the bed with care, turning around to fetch one of his shirts from the closet. During this whole time you didn’t say anything, either. Your mind was still a little closed off from when you tried to separate yourself from the painful memories that started to haunt you, and despite Joel’s efforts, it was still difficult to move past the experience.

But your head snapped up when Joel, after helping you put the shirt on, knelt in front of you, took your hand in his and leaned forward to kiss your knee gently.

“M’sorry,” Joel whispered with pain tinging his deep voice. “I’m sorry for sayin’ all those things about you and Sarah. I know you love her.” He pressed his lips to your knee again, and lifted his head, revealing how misty his own eyes were, which in turn made your heart ache even more. “My sweet girl. I swear I won’t ever hurt you again.”

“You didn’t hurt me,” you answered quietly, but Joel shook his head and took a deep breath.

“What can I do?” he repeated his question from earlier, and this time you knew exactly what you needed him for.

“Can you… can you hold me?”

Without missing a beat, Joel raised from his position and enveloped you in his embrace, making you feel safe and protected like never before. You sighed heavily, breathing in his scent and feeling like just by touching you with such love that only he was capable of, he helped you to lift some invisible load from your shoulders.

Despite the headache from all the crying and your chest still tightening with every shallow breath you took, you felt a little better now. You didn’t feel alone.

You knew you were safe with Joel.

It took some time for you to fall asleep, but even when you did, Joel could not find peace in the silky darkness of the evening.

Before you dozed off, Joel vowed again and again how much you mean to him, how you and Sarah are the best things that ever happened to him, and how he’ll never let anything happen to any of you – and he could clearly see that you believed his every word, and that you weren’t mad at him. You weren’t flinching when he rocked you back and forth, or later when he pressed small kisses to your forehead.

But you still were quiet and your face miserable, and several times Joel tucked you in closer to himself when he felt you shaking and sniffing. There wasn’t anything else he could do but hold you and whisper soothing promises into your hair. Once your eyelids started to drop, he began humming a familiar melody he knew you liked, and you nuzzled your face into his neck, curling up in his embrace.

And you whispered ‘I love you’ before you drifted off to an uneasy sleep in his arms. And before he could even answer, you thanked him for loving you.

When he heard it, he had to keep himself from breaking down with the last bit of his strength.

“You mean everythin’ to me, love. Everythin’,” he murmured after a couple of seconds, not even knowing if you were still awake. The guilt in his chest made it hard to breathe, but he pushed through it, and then he softly kissed your forehead, making a promise to himself.

He will find time to go to Sarah’s play with you. And he’ll make it right.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #the last of us #joel miller x y/n #tlou hbo #young joel miller #sarah miller #joel miller fanfiction #the last of us fanfiction #joel miller angst #joel miller fluff

[ackermonie]

“listen. i’m telling you again. we’re NOT telling her i got you that lego set for winning that fight, am i clear?”

megumi nods with a roll of his eyes, arms crossed over his chest. “i don’t think she’s gonna be as mad as you think she will be. this isnt the first time this happens, you know?”

“regardless, the lego set remains unmentioned,” satoru points at megumi with a serious index finger, to which megumi rolls his eyes again as he resumes setting the dining table. “the tone of her voice on the phone said she’s coming for blood. i don’t wanna be on her bad side.”

“oh? so you set me up instead?!” megumi lets go of the plates to cross his arms over his chest. “is the strongest really such a scaredy-cat, now?”

“i’m not scared!” satoru is offended, even though he’s about to piss his pants. “and I wasn’t the one that decided that beating up 8 fucking kids on one go was the brightest idea ever, was i?”

“but you rewarded me for it!”

“he did what?”

the two of them freeze in their place, eyes widening as they hold each other’s gazes, too scared to look at the source of the voice coming from the kitchen entrance.

they stay quiet for a solid amount of seconds, and you remain unmoving. gojo gestures for megumi to look at you first, to which megumi replies with a subtle shake of his head, a thin sheet of sweat breaking on his forehead.

“i asked a question.”

thunder is rumbling, and when gojo decides to, very slowly, shift his gaze to you, it’s a scene right out of a horror movie when lightening strikes and thunder rolls on cue. you’re standing at the entrance, drenched from head to toe, a cut or two fresh on your face. your uniform remains unscathed, save for the water dripping to make a little damp pool beneath your feet.

“you’re home early, sweets,” gojo tries to approach, but you pin him in place with a glare. his nervous grin gradually falls from his face. “how was the mission?”

he hears footsteps approaching quickly, and when tsumiki comes to a halt behind you, seeing the state you’re in, she begins to slowly retreat despite satoru’s look of despair at her.

“you rewarded him.” you echo megumi’s words. the 14 year old swallows hard, eyes sliding from you to the suddenly more interesting kitchen sink. “he almost gets expelled, and you reward him.”

“but he didn’t get expelled!” satoru chuckles cheerfully. “he apologized, and all! didn’t you, megumi?” he nudges the teenager’s shoulder pushing him a bit forwards so he can take some of the impact himself. he lowers himself a bit to mumble to him through his teeth. “who’s the scaredy -cat now, huh?”

“I-i—“

“i leave the house for a couple of days— not even a couple, this was a day and a half, and i have to wrap my mission up quickly because my son’s being turned into a delinquent with his dad’s support?”

it takes satoru a couple of seconds to register the words that just came out fo his partner's mouth. he immediately looks at the flustered teenager by his side, to find a light blush on his cheeks and neck.

something warm settles behind gojo's ribcage. it was never addressed, that they're practically family. the only d word megumi calls gojo is dick, but fuck, by the look on megumi's face, the way his skin is painted pink, he knows that the seemingly stoic kid feels the same.

satoru doesn't even think you realize the way you addressed them.

tsumiki peeks her head from behind you. there's a sweet smile growing on her sweet face that he catches. he tries not to smile, he really does, but something in his demeanor is shattering right before his eyes.

"satoru!" you raise your voice, a frustrated frown painting your features, but all satoru feels is the love spreading through his body, his fingertips buzzing with it and all. "this is not rewardable behavior!"

"don't be mad at him..." megumi mumbled, finally taking a step forward. your gaze shifts to him, but he's looking anywhere but you. "he only wanted to cheer me up. this is my fault."

your eyes can't help but soften. gojo watches the change of expression in awe.

"if it helps, they were bullies." satoru chimes in a much softer voice, matching the look on your face. he ruffles the boy's hair, who doesn't push his hand away for the first time in a while. "it's just that megumi here has his own way of doing good. peculiar," gojo pauses with a little laugh when the teenager finally pushes his hand away grumpily. "but he's still doing good."

you finally spot the scar on his cheekbone, one that's already been tended to by satoru it seems, but you still walk across and hold his cheeks in your hands to check it out. its really not that deep, but something still tugs at your heart.

and satoru is still watching the changes of your expression, taking note of every little one. he knows you all too well, you see, and he knows that you're about to start tearing up any second now.

"why don't you guys go fetch angry mom here a towel or two?" he addresses the children, grabbing your wrist to let go of megumi, who looks too guilty for his own good right now. he brings you closer to him instead. "I'm afraid she'll only be grumpier if she catches a cold."

megumi hesitates, but tsumiki calls for him, understanding the cue better than her younger brother.

once they were both out of sight, gojo chuckles in endearment when you shove your face in his chest, uncontrollable tears escaping past your heavy lids. he grabs your head with one hand while the other holds you to him, soaked and all.

"oh baby," he sighs. he doesn't think he's ever been happier than this moment right here. "you just called him my son."

you punch him right in the gut. he groans out in pain, but his hold never wavers on you. "he is your son."

"i think we both prefer the name long-term pain in the ass, but that will do." he raises your head to look at him, and when he sees that red nose and tears down your cheeks, he can't help but giggle some more. "god, you're literally the best thing to ever happen to me."

"shut up." your cheeks burn in his hands, and you're unable to look away. "I was so scared something had happened to him. i would've never forgiven myself."

"the fuck do you take me for?" satoru fakes offense, raising an eyebrow down at you. you roll your eyes at him, from which he takes even more offense, letting you go with a scoff of disbelief. he dramatically removes his sunglasses and crosses his fingers in front of him. "I'll hollow purple your ass so hard right now and you'll never live to tell the tale."

"sure, honey," you pat him on the chest with one hand and wipe away your tears with the other, beginning to turn away from him with a, now more subtle, eye-roll. "whatever you say."

he grabs you and pulls you flush to him again, this time capturing your lips in a sweet, chaste kiss that has your whole body letting loose right there in his arms. your arms wrap around his neck like a reflex, and he squeezes you into him, a dull ache beating in him to just merge your bodies into one,, to have you in his very bones, and maybe even then it wouldn't be quite enough.

"i would rather be torn in two than let something happen to any of you," he breaks away from the kiss to peck your nose. you look into his eyes, and it worries you just how true his statement is. "what else do I have to fight for?"

=====================================

more?

#ackermonie writes #megumi IS gojo's son i dont make the rules #i hate u gege #gojo satoru #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jjk drabbles #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #jjk #gojo fluff #jjk fluff #gojo hurt/comfort #megumi fushiguro #gojo comfort #kid!megumi

[misserabella]

loosen up

abby anderson x fem! reader

summary; abby was pent up, and angry, and she was taking it out on your team. and you were not gonna have it. you’ll have to loosen her up.

cw; +18 content! minors dni!, fighting, cursing, blood, abby being a bitch, teasing, tension, chocking (kinda??), hair pulling, punching, making out, begging, cheating (abby on owen), fingering (a! receiving), tit and nipple play, oral sex (a! receiving), dirty talking…

your blood was boiling. you were winning the game, it was no big deal. but fuck. did she really have to act like that? she was just like a fucking child.

you saw as abby barely defended the other team player as she shot to the hoop, listless, annoyed. you felt your skin crawl in goosebumps when she took the bounce and with a scowl tossed it to one of your teammates hard enough for it to end up getting out of the court.

“what the fuck anderson?!” you yelled at her, scowling. why was she acting like such a bitch. sure. you can be mad. but this is a match. get over it and play.

she ignored you, letting the player she was supposed to defend score.

you couldn’t handle it anymore getting closer to her and pushing at her chest, making her stumble backwards.

she had come today already with a scowl on her face, and after she had gotten mad about something your team had done wrong at the start of the match, she had started taking it out all on your team and sabotaging you. you didn’t care that she was the captain, if there was something everyone knew is that you wouldn’t stay quiet if something was bothering you. and she was infuriating you. “if you’re gonna play like this don’t fucking play!! you’re fucking it up for us!” she pushed you back.

“at least they need me to play. i’m not some bench warmer like you!” she said, and you gritted your teeth, your ego being hurt. “aw, what’s wrong? did i hit a weak spot?” she falsely cooed, and before you knew it you were punching her, making her lip burst and blood tint her skin.

you could hear the stairs filled with people roar, screaming when abby jumped on you, a hand tugging on your hair as her other hand closed into a fist, coming down onto your cheek and making you hiss.

before things could escalate, your coach was running into the court along with the referee to stop the two of you.

“anderson!” he screamed, trapping her arms to push her off of you. she fought against him and the referee who went to help him since abby was quite strong.

you spat blood, your teammates coming up to check on you.

“you two. out.” your coach ordered, forcing the two of you out of the court and into the changing rooms. “anderson. i don’t know what the hell has gotten into you, but you better be changing your attitude or i swear to got you won’t be making it to the next game. and you.” he pointed at you. “starting a fight in the middle of a fucking match?” he inquired. “are we in kindergarten?” you huffed, crossing your arms. “i don’t want you coming out of here until you fix whatever you two have going on. i don’t want bullshit on my court.” he said, closing the door to the changing rooms behind him to go back to his game.

the air inside of the room was so dense in tension it could be cut with a knife.

“this is all your fucking fault.” you spat, adrenaline cursing through your veins. sweat was pearling your skin.

“my fault?” she scoffed and you turned to face her. “you’re the one who fucking punched me.”

“yeah well you needed it.” you muttered. “just as much as you need a good fuck. bad thing your little boyfriend doesn’t know how to use his dick, huh?” next thing you knew you were against the wall, a hand tightly around your neck.

“you need to keep your mouth shut.” she growled, and you smirked. you were inches apart, your lips brushing, her breath hitting your face.

“aw… have i hit a weak spot?” you mocked her, throwing back her words at her. “i’m sure owen can’t hit your g spot though. how many times has he make you cum, huh? i’m sure not even once, since you’re acting like such a bitc-” she punched you again, making you shut up and your mouth fill up with blood all over again. you smirked.

you looked into her blue eyes, at her reddening cheeks. “well aren’t you cute, hm? blushing ‘cause i’m on the right?”

“fucking shut up.” she spat, and you leaned closer, pushing against the tightening grip on your neck.

“why don’t you make me, huh?” you whispered against her lips, and your smirk only grew when your saw her angry eyes drift down at your lips.

“you wish.” she muttered and your tongue wetted your lips, watching as she stared.

“by the way you’re looking at me i’m not sure i’m the one wishing for it, anderson.”

“you’re so annoying.” she growled, and you hummed when she quickly and harshly pushed them against your, so hard your head met the wall behind you in a thud. it was a mess. all tongue and teeth. your hands pulled at her blonde braid as her strong body caged you against the cold tile wall. she moaned when you bit down on her broken lip, tasting her blood as she could taste yours on your tongue.

“that’s it abby, take it all out on me, hm?” you muttered, and she cursed when your lips trailed down her jaw to her neck, sucking and biting. “this is what you needed, isn’t it?” you inquired as your hands dived in her shirt, hands cupping her tits over her sports bra and tweaking her nipples. “needed to get the attitude fucked out of you?” she moaned, and you smiled. “but we’re gonna get you all fixed for coach, isn’t that right?” she nodded, biting down on her lip as she felt one of your hands trail down her stomach, your fingertips caressing her abs. “speak up for me cap, why so quiet all of a sudden?” you teased her and she gritted her teeth.

“shut -“ she tried and say, but before she could finish her sentence she was letting out a loud moan as your hand pushed inside her pants and panties, fingers diving in between her slick folds.

“jesus christ. you’re soaked.” you breathed out, your fingertips easily sliding against her clit, making her thighs shake. “is it always like this, hm? can owen make your pussy drool like this?” she shook her head.

“no.” she shook her head in a whimper, one that made your own pussy throb. “fuck. he never… he doesn’t know how to touch me.”

you hummed. “you poor thing. so eager to be fucked and yet can’t get what you need, huh?” you mocked her, and you saw her breath hitch. “do you want it? do you want me to make you cum, abby?” she nodded. “nuh-huh. use your words. such a loud fucking mouth and now you’re getting shy on me? speak.”

“yes. please, make me cum.” she muttered, and you smirked.

“atta girl.” she moaned when you pushed your middle finger inside. “jesus christ. he doesn’t fucking deserve you. pussy so tight…” you groaned, starting to thrust in and out. “she’s so eager. she’s sucking me right in.” she moaned, hiding her flushing face on your neck, although you didn’t let her, tugging on her braid to make her face you. “don’t fucking hide from me. wanna see you fall apart.” her breath hitched, her thighs opening for you to reach deeper into her. you pulled from her so she could be the one now caged against the wall, giving you strength to dive two of your fingers inside her harder. “that’s it. open up for me.”

“fuck, fuck, fuck…” she cried out as you curled them against her g spot, eyes squeezed shut, cunt molding around your fingers.

“who would’ve thought… abby anderson, such a tough girl falling apart so easily on my fingers…” you smirked. “you like it baby? like how i’m fucking you behind your little boyfriends back? what would he say, hm? what would he think if he saw you like this, huh?” your thumb met her throbbing clit. “gonna be good for me once i make you cum? gonna stop being such a fucking bitch?” she nodded. “i bet you are. gonna make you cum so good you’d do anything for me.” you smirked. “look at you. you sweet girl, you just needed your pussy stretched out, hm? get loose, yeah? i bet you taste so fucking sweet, you’re dripping on my fingers.” she moaned, your words were so fucking lewd they were making her head spin. but she loved it. she couldn’t be more turned on. she’d never been this needy, this weak. “tell me, does he eat your pussy, hm?” she didn’t answer, yet her cheeks turned pink and you chuckled. “of course he doesn’t. want me to show you what you deserve? want me to fuck you with my tongue, abby?” she nodded, whining.

“yes please, fuck. please need your tongue.” your smirk grew.

“whatever you say, cap.” you teased her, pulling down her pants and panties with your hands, hearing her moan when your fingers left her hole, feeling empty. “so needy… don’t worry baby.” you said as you kneeled in front of her, pushing one of her strong thighs on top of your shoulder. “i’m gonna fill you up real nice.”

abby could swear she lost all breath when she felt your tongue lick a long strip up her clit from her hole, lapping at her slick with a hum that made her moan so loud you had to pull back to hush her. “you need to stay quiet, baby. don’t want your little boyfriend to hear us, hm?” you inquired, suckling at her clit. the thought of owen just bursting into the changing rooms to find the two of you like this only turned her on more. she shook her head. “then be a good girl and stay quiet for me.”

you dived back in, your tongue sliding in between her folds as you closed your eyes, relishing on how fucking good she tasted. “you taste so good… that dick doesn’t know what he’s missing. could eat this pussy up for hours.” abby whimpered, one of her hands finding your hair to tug you closer. and as much as you wanted to tease her about it, you gave her what she wanted, burying your tongue inside her hole, your nose bumping against her clit.

“oh, fuck.” she cried out, head rolling backwards and bumping against the wall as you curled it, fucking it in and out of her, moaning at the taste of the white creamy pre cum that stained your lips, chin and tongue. you hummed, devouring her like a starved woman before moving on to her clit and plunging two of your fingers back inside of her. you harshly sucked on that little bundle on nerves, feeling her shake as you hit your g spot with every curve of your fingers. “i’m gonna cum.”

“so pent up…” you chuckled by how easily it had been to make her fall apart. “poor baby. go ahead, be a good girl and cum on my face.” you said before going back to her clit, curling your fingers faster and sucking harder. it didn’t take long before her moans got louder —to which she had to muffle herself with her free hand— and creamed all over your mouth. you moaned, lapping at everything she was giving you as you fucked her through it. “atta girl…” you praised, smirking at the shaking of her thighs. she was panting by the time she was done, slightly whimpering at your licks as you cleaned her up. she watched as you pulled your fingers out of her and pushed them inside your mouth, your eyes never leaving hers as you sucked them clean. she bit down on her lip, the hand on your hair slightly tightening. “it’s best we go out there.” you said as you got up from your aching knees. “we’ve got a match to win.” she nodded, getting dressed with flushing cheeks.

after that, abby was back to her normal self, playing to win. in fact, it was the best she had ever played in a long time, and your coach noticed. it was before you went to enter the court on a change that he stopped you.

“i don’t know what the hell you did… but well done.” he said, and you smiled, taking a look at abby, who looked away with a flushed expression.

you shrugged.

“she just needed to loosen up.”

-

a/n; i need her

#abby x reader smut #abby smut #abby tlou #tlou abby #abby x you #abby x reader #abby anderson x fem! reader #abby anderson smut #abby anderson x reader #abby the last of us #abby anderson #abby x fem!reader #abby anderson drabble #abby anderson fluff #abby anderson x fem!reader #abby anderson x female reader #abby anderson x you #abby anderson tlou2 #tlou #tlou fanfiction #tlou fic #tlou imagine #tlou smut #tlou fluff #tlou2 #tlou x reader

[thecoochiefairy]

𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖈𝖔𝖔𝖈𝖍𝖎𝖊𝖋𝖆𝖎𝖗𝖞

━━ 𝑜𝑢𝑐ℎ𝑖𝑒𝑠 .ᐟ toji.

warnings 𑄽𑄺 12k word count. boxer toji, third person omniscient pov, black woman, vaginal penetration, angry sex, rough, lil bit of sweet talkin’, hair pulling, daddy kink, squirting, creaming, oral [f] [m], choking, praising, LOTS of dirty talk, a lil degrading?, fingering, condomless sex, kissing, spanking, aggressive toji, lil bit of sweet toji, physical violence, talks of body image issues, minors aren’t welcome!

song to play while listening; 𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒 𝑚𝑒 ; 𝑙𝑖𝑙 𝑤𝑎𝑦𝑛𝑒

━━ 𝒄𝙤𝒐𝙘𝒉𝙞𝒆𝙛𝒂𝙞𝒓𝙮 𝙩𝒉𝙤𝒖𝙜𝒉𝙩𝒔 .ᐟ if you didn’t see it already, there is a trigger warning for talks of body/self image issues! i’m a girlie that deals with a lot of that, so this was a bit heartfelt for me. this is dedicated to any of my girls/gay’s/they’s that feel down about themselves! you’re all perfect 🫶🏽love your body + your body will love you back! enjoy!

OF COURSE SHE FUCKING WOULD. 

Blood drips down his chin, eyes shooting over at the mirror as his scar is now reopened, ripping between his bottom and top lip. His anger seeped through his face in a way it’d never shown before, staring back at the woman he’d kill for. They had their ups and downs—this definitely had to be their worst fight. 

Their now five year relationship blossomed in an uncanny place—The gym, an environment where people didn’t expect to be approached or distracted from their routine. He didn’t mean to bother her, he just couldn’t help it.

She stood at the Smith’s machine, blowing out a breath as she gripped the bar that looked to hold a weight of forty-five on each side. He watched her. Her skin is a warm toffee complexion, scrunchie holding her onyx curls, tendrils falling around her face that’s painted with thousands of freckles. Full dark eyebrows furrow lowly, baby pink lips sinking under her bone straight teeth. Her brown eyes stare out of focus, long lashes curling atop of her pupils. She was mesmerizing. 

She was more curvy than the women he usually went for. Even from under the sweater she wore, her full breast, large hips and pudgy stomach, her ass— god, he couldn’t get enough of her, and he didn’t even know this woman’s name. She seems frustrated. She twists her body under the bar as she squats, taking a deep breath as she goes to lift it up, her arms trembling. It causes her to quickly drop the bar back in place, a roll coming to her eyes.

“It’s better to train muscles when they’re at failure,” Is the first thing he says to her. 

Her eyes follow up to him. She nearly trips over the bench beneath the machine as she takes in this man. He stands in front of her, long sleeve black compression shirt pulled at his elbows that showcase a couple of tattoos on his muscular arms. His dark hair falls along his eyebrows as it seems he’d been sweating. Scarily handsome features, strong jaw, deep eyes with a confident aura she wasn’t used to. This man was fine, holy fuck, she thought. 

“Excuse me?” She stutters.

“I’m tryna’ be a boxer, so I have to sustain muscle in order to stay in my weight class. Fatigue means muscle activation. So… say you’re doing a set of ten squats, by the fourth or fifth squat you’re tired as fuck,” he talks, her eyes only blinking in response, “Any squat after that is typically the ones that are increasing your muscles.”

Her eyebrows only raise. He then chuckles as he places his hand behind his neck, “My fault, I just…needed a reason to come talk to you.”

“To me?” She questions, her lashes falling over her cheeks.

“You, doll,” He chuckles, her eyes falling to the silver ball along his tongue as his mouth slightly opens. She wants to gulp. 

“What’s your name?” He then asks.

She crosses her arms over her chest as she asks, “Why you’ wanna know? You tryna’ get in my pants or something?”

That makes him laugh. He shakes his head as he speaks, “Five minutes of talking to you and your ass is already being stubborn. That's cool, I like that.”

“It’s Sonali,” she then replies, “Pronounced Sah—nah—lee, not So—nah—lee, I hate when people say my name wrong.”

“I’ll keep that in mind. I wanna say your name a thousand times.”

“Damn. You don’t hold back, do you?” She tilts her head. 

“I want you,” he states flatly. 

“You’ manifesting that or something?”

“It’s a fuckin’ promise.”

And it was. She never had a man so affectionate, thoughtful—good as fuck in bed— it was the first time she’d experienced an authentic love. She could admit, the first two years were rough. Mostly from her own overthinking. Anytime they were out in public and the eyes of other women fell upon him, she gripped herself tighter around his arm. She didn’t want to be the jealous type, but as these girls continued to throw themselves at him, it was like she didn’t exist. Was she not good enough? Pretty enough? Skinny enough? 

She eyed every single person in the gym. Everyone's body was different, but the ones that got the most attention were the standard preference of beauty nowadays. Slim, able to go into a store and fit a piece of clothing in the first try. No problems in the world. Call her dramatic, call her apathetic of even the “perfect” people’s issues. Maybe if she was perfect, she’d have less problems than her own. 

There were so many times Toji caught her staring at herself in the mirror, noticing she would turn away from it when she undressed. As many times as he’d purposely fucked her in front of it, nothing changed. But he knew that it wasn’t his call to make her confident within herself. He just wished she knew how perfect she was. 

He could feel himself straying away from Sonali, a particular type of anger building within her body that only increased the closer he tried to get to her. Anytime a woman tried to talk to him, she was mad. When he suggested that she wear more clothes that didn’t dishevel her figure, she was even more mad. He didn’t understand what he was doing wrong, only wanting her to feel as beautiful as she was. Nothing worked. Yet through all of it, he was always so patient with her, never becoming angry or ever raising his voice to her. Sonali’s own self destruction almost caused them to break up—and then, her father had passed away.

Sonali’s life had fallen apart. It was just as tough for Toji, coming to learn that her father owned a boxing gym in the city, sparring and bonding with a man that seemed perfect in health. He watched his girlfriend spar aggressively with her father, giggling like a little girl as she did so. It made him smile to see that he was the one person that could rid all that attitude. When he died, nobody knew he was sick. Not even Sonali— his death was a shock to their entire family. But with Toji there for her, all of her pain seemed easier to manage. He loved her no matter how angry she was. In general, or at him. The more she pushed away, the more he pulled forward. She cried in his arms for nights at a time, wishing she hadn’t lost her father. Wishing she could be the confident woman he raised her to be. Wishing everything wasn’t so damn difficult. 

That anger never subsided, grief turning to rage very quickly. It all mushed into one emotion when a random stranger verbally attacked her, calling her a racial slur and spitting at her. That was her final straw. She lunged forward as she attacked this woman, ripping the frail blonde hair from her scalp, punching her with a strength of almost two men. When Toji pulled her away, the cops captured her next, dragging her out in a chaotic scene. 

Once again, there Toji was. Right behind her in court, nervously listening in as the judge explained her assault charges. The woman now had a busted artery in her face, paired with a ruptured eardrum that caused her to go completely deaf on her left side. The charges were thankfully dropped due to witnesses explaining she was only in defense of herself due to discrimination, plus her record being completely clean. That situation proved to Sonali that she wanted to change for the better. Mentally, physically, emotionally, even if that meant some self reflecting she wasn’t ready to face.

“I think you’re perfect the way you are, baby. But if you wanna change, we can work towards that, too,” Toji’s deep voice comes in her ears that same night, cleaning the blood from beneath her fingers, staring in her face as frustrated tears drop from her eyes. 

“We can start by finding a place to put all of that anger. Imma’ put you in the ring with me, I’d never need a mouth guard again,” He teases, causing her to softly giggle as he continues, “You got a mean ass left hook. You learned that from your father.”

“Yeah. Taught me a few things, although most of my skills came from petty street fights” she mutters. 

“I get that, you need technique. I was damn near enamored with all the Rocky films. Even had a punching bag in my bedroom,” he chuckles.

“You need technique. I can show you,” she suggests.

“Me?”

“You’re quick, but you lack the repetition of catching your opponent off guard. That’s how you win. Relax them into thinking they have that negative space to hit you, then swing where they least expect it,” she shrugs.

“Teach me some shit, then.”

“I will.”

In those three years, Sonali faced all the issues she felt she withheld, having a support system behind her that had truly changed her for the better. Her patience, temper, eating habits, sleeping schedule. She felt like a new her. A better her. Toji saw her progress as well, falling more in love every single day—he just had to ask for her hand in marriage. 

Here they were now, Sonali giving co-ownership of her father’s boxing gym to Toji, allowing him to reopen the business for other local boxers. He was easily recognized, known to never lose a match, knocking someone out in less than five minutes. She wasn’t used to seeing him have a somewhat celebrity status, but it made her happy that she could be beside him for this new time in their relationship. Just like she saw changes in him, he definitely saw changes within her.

“C’mon, Fushiguro.”

He heard his manager's voice within his ear. Shiu leaned  against the rope of the ring where Toji stood inside, across from another man as they continued to spar. This was his usual routine on a regular day, constantly upping his skills to prepare for his next match. 

“You’ distracted or something?” The man across from him asked, smiling in an almost taunting manner. 

“Yeah. I’m bored, you hit like a bitch.” 

“Show me some shit then!” The man laughed, hovering the gloves over his face, arms out in a protective position. 

‘I BE DAMNED’  by Comethazine continues to play along the speakers in the ceiling. Toji remained where he was, hands mimicking the protection stance as he stared at his opponent. He stepped back, bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet with narrowed eyes. He studied his movement like a test. Just as the man was about to talk more shit, his glove quickly lashed out and smashed his opponent in the jaw as he flashed forward, knocking him to the floor. Toji harshly taps his gloves together, continuing to bounce on his feet as the man quickly stands up, ignoring the cringe that goes around the ring. 

“Y’all acting like girls,” the coach says, “Fushiguro, you gotta perfect this move you keep dodging. Lead uppercut, straight,” He commands.

“I got it,” he says lowly.

“So do it.” 

Him and the man continue to spar for a bit. From another pair of eyes, his hands smear into the atmosphere, catching every movement the man makes in front of him. He knows all of his techniques. His focus is encapsulated on the gloves in front of him, never noticing as the large bodyguard enters the gym, standing to the side with his hands in front of his abdomen. 

When he does see this, he slows down as he calls, “De’Angelo, where’s Sonali?”

“She’s not here, sir.” De’Angelo replies, no emotion to his face. 

Toji steps back from his opponent as he tilts his head, “I’m not a fucking idiot. Don’t play with me. I can see that, she’s supposed to be with you.”

“She told me to come here, sir,” he explains, “Said she wanted to be by herself.”

“I don’t pay you to fold,” he gruffly reminds, twisting his neck as he cracks the bone, “Did she tell you where she was going?”

“No, sir.” 

He becomes immensely irritated, flaring his nose as he wants to punch the shit out of his bodyguard. He didn’t necessarily need one, but with the status he was beginning to withhold and having a schedule where he couldn’t constantly be with Sonali, he hired De’Angelo for her safety. Her and him had created a friendship essentially, De’Angelo obviously being wrapped up in her sweet nature, allowing himself to be distracted by his job. Shit, he wasn’t the first. 

“Imma’ give you five minutes to find her before I step out this ring.”

The funny thing was, De’Angelo was a man that nearly stood at 6’5, bigger and scarier than most. But Toji was bigger and scarier than any man combined when he was pissed. 

By god’s grace—and to De’Angelo’s luck—Toji’s ears almost hike up like a dog when he hears her feminine voice, involuntarily sultry as she speaks. She appears within the frame of the gym’s door, leaning her head against the phone to her ear as she giggles softly, “Girl. You should’ve seen the cashier's face. Looking at me stupid cause I counted four hundred dollars in one’s. Mind your business, hoe!” 

Another issue Toji was recently beginning to face. With all the evolving Sonali had done in the years of them being together, her beauty had become tenfold. She went from a ten, to a fucking twelve. Her proportions were almost exaggerative. Full breast, sitting upright perfectly under the soft pink gym set she wore, long sleeve and clinging to her curves. Her waist was comparative to a Coke bottle, hips large as if she’d given birth. Thighs toned and supple, ass—soft, full, fat. She was a dime. As she entered the building, her dark curls bounced around her shoulders, pulled out of her face by a hello kitty shaped hair band, one she usually wore if she was doing her makeup or going to the gym. Yet, her face is rid of any cosmetics, freckles spraying along her cheeks and forehead, nose ring shining in the light. She absentmindedly sipped the matching pink cup she had, holding a numerous amount of bags in her other hand. 

Jealousy. A word that he never expected to feel within his own body anytime she was without him, the eyes of other men hungry as they watched her. He knew the kind of beauty his woman withheld, but that didn’t mean he enjoyed it when they stared. He was like her guard dog, always hovering over her as she danced in la-la land, giddy and happy as he protected her from the monster that was the reality. The same cat-like eyes that were tattooed on his forearm became slender as she smiled. Her hips twisted as she came in, calling into the phone, “Imma’ call you back. See you later, bookie!” Hanging up as she turned her attention to their bodyguard.

“Hey, D. I got both of us a drink! I got you some lime Kombucha, I know you said your stomach had been hurting. This should help your digestion,” She smiles, handing the soft green drink to him. 

Toji stumbles slightly as he feels his opponent connect his glove into his shoulder, lightly trying to get his attention. As everyone else laughs around him, he glares in return, the laughs quickly dying down as the coach mutters, “Should’ve minked his ass in the face. Let's take a five,” he then states. 

“Fuck you. I’m taking a ten,” Toji replies, removing his gloves and only being left with bandages as he drops down from the ring, coming over to her as she continues to speak to De’Angelo. 

His face goes slightly warm as he takes the drink, “Try it in the car. I’ll be out there in a second, okay? I’ll show you the playlist I made for you,” she talks.

“Yes ma’am,” he ducks away from Toji’s death stare, exiting the building.

His face softens as he now looks down to her. He watches as she drops her bags, placing her cup down on the ground as wraps her arms around his neck. 

“Babydoll,” he rasps, “Where were you?”

“Hi, Daddy,” she smiles happily, “I missed you.”

He narrows his eyes down. She softly rolls her eyes as she speaks, “I just came from the gym, did a little shopping afterwards. Why you’ making a face? Are you upset?”

“‘Nali, baby,” he sighs, bringing his arms around her ass, gripping the skin within his hold, “I don’t like to have to put my foot up D'Angelo's ass everytime I can’t find you with him. Please stop sending him off.”

“Okay, sorry. I just wanted to have a little girl time, that’s all. You’ mad? Tell me you love me.”

“I love you. You know that,” he brings his face down, sucking her tongue into his mouth. He could never be mad at her for too long, even if it was warranted. Her grin widens as she says, “Good. How’s he doing?” She then brings her attention to the men in the ring, pulling Toji’s hand as she makes her way over to them.

“Distracted by you. Get out,” Shiu expresses, annoyed.

“I wasn’t talking to you,” she brings her eyes to his coach, “Why y’all beefing? What’s the problem?” 

“We’ve been trying to get him to perfect the uppercut, straight-hit. He’s being soft.” 

“What's that?” One of the newer members of the gym asks, climbing into the ring as his session is coming in the next fifteen minutes. 

“It’s when you dip down to the right, punch within the airway of your stomach, then lean towards the left and tag your opponent in the face,” Sonali explains, rubbing Toji’s arm who seems more annoyed than his manager.

“He would’ve done that shit if you were here,” the coach points out.

“Why don’t you train? You know this shit better than most of us do.” The other guy asks.

She shakes her head, “Had to get my hands registered when Toji did. Fighting is a bit traumatic for me now. Plus, I’m in school, I don’t really have the time.” 

Toji knew her real passion, wanting to be a postpartum nurse and help new mothers with their babies. She currently worked a part-time job making the milk within the hospital for their NICU department. He also knew she could easily just be as good as him in boxing if she put her mind to it. 

“Too bad. Put this motherfucker in check, his head is somewhere else when we have a fight tomorrow,” Shiu snaps.

“Wanna get in the ring with him, Shiu? Better yet, with me?” Sonali asks.

He stares silently, muttering as he speaks, “I gotta take a phone call. For your damn fight,” He looks to Toji, stepping down from the ring as she makes his way to another part of the gym. Sonali calls, “C’mon, Shiu! I was just fucking with you.”

“I don’t have time for his prissy ass today. Imma’ get the move, I’m good,” Toji finalizes to his coach.

He replies, “You better.”

Everyone steps down from the ring as they allow the other boxers to get their time in, Sonali sitting on the ground with Toji as she wraps his bandages for him. She sighs, “Shiu’s giving you shit today. Why?”

“He’s pissed at me cause I didn’t take some endorsement deal they called me for. I’m cool with the status I have now. Even that is too much,” he replies honestly.

“You don’t enjoy all the pretty girls gawking over you?” She teasingly asks.

He shakes his head, “The only pretty girl I want fangirling over me is you.”

“Awe, you’re so fake.” She lightly mushes her hand against his face, “Should’ve taken it. Would’ve put more money in our pockets.”

“Money isn’t a problem. You know that,” he reminds, “Don’t I keep you in the life of luxury?” He teases back.

“Of course. But getting calls for endorsement means that they see you have the potential to be bigger than you think. You can make a household name, Fushiguro. Don’t miss that opportunity. You have me. I have you. We’re a team,” she speaks.

He sighs, knowing that she’s right. He wasn’t too fond of being in the limelight, but if that meant more financial stability and to be able to take care of her more than he did now, he found an upside to the situation. 

He changes the subject, “What’d you spend all my money on today?”

“Um, wrong. I spent my money today, playboy. I got it like that,” she corrects him, running her fingers over his olive skin as he chuckles, “I bought the cutest Telfar purse in the store. It was ballerina pink. I had to have it, I also bought some more gym shirts for you, and some outfit choices for my friends party tonight.”

“You didn’t tell me about a party,” he frowns.

“I’m telling you now,” she blinks.

He blows out a breath, scratching the back of his neck as he asks, “What are we eating tonight?”

“Oh! Well, I bought some ingredients to cook you some vegan tacos. I also got a couple of fruits to make smoothies—“

“Why can’t we eat like regular people? I’m a grown ass man, baby. My carnivorous needs aren’t being met.”

She rolls her eyes, “Because I’m under a calorie deficit, and red meat is too heavy for my stomach. And yours,” she replies.

“Ah shit, here we go with this calorie deficit bullshit,” he groans, leaning back on the ground as he continues groaning like a toddler.

“Don’t start with me, Toji. I swear to god.”

Although he was supportive of her new lifestyle as far as her diet was concerned, it sometimes became a frustration between them when he was also forced to eat the same foods as her. He felt like he needed to eat twice after one meal, trying to maintain his correct protein count. 

“Fine, I’ll get you some chicken. It’ll keep you shaped like the Hulk.”

He leans his head up, “If only I was actually that big. I’d fly across the city and burn every vegan-calorie-deficit-item known to man.”

“You’re my biggest hater, you know that?” She raised an eyebrow.

“And your biggest fan all in one.”

She tilts her head, “I almost forgot to mention the last place I went. I stopped by the Savage-Fenty store. Got me a couple lingerie sets,” she rolls her eyes, looking at her bags as she feels Toji sit halfway up.

“But all my items seem so uninteresting to you. So I guess I’ll just take them ba—“

She’s interrupted as he grips her up, throwing her over his shoulder as he grabs all of her belongings with him. She coughs at the sudden movement, giggling as he begins making his way towards the exit.

His coach calls, “Aye! Where the hell you’ going, Fushiguro?!”

“I’m done for tonight. I’ll come back in the morning!”

“You better know how to tap a motherfucker by the time you come here tomorrow!”

“Oh, Imma’ tap something!” He calls back.

Sonali places her hand over her mouth, shockingly laughing as she shouts, “Toji!” His coach shakes his head as he watches them disappear out of the building. 

                              ᡕᠵ᠊ᡃ࡚ࠢ࠘ ⸝່ࠡࠣ᠊߯᠆ࠣ࠘ᡁࠣ࠘᠊᠊ࠢ࠘𐡏~♡

“You like it? Maybe I should’ve gotten gold. Shit, maybe pink. Ugh.”

Sonali stands indesively in the full body mirror within the bathroom, eyeing herself and pulling any critique she can. She brings her vision behind her as she watches Toji sitting in a bathtub full of ice, absentmindedly scratching his chin as he leans his arms on the sides of the bath, staring at his phone. 

“So anyways, like I was saying. Amara didn’t invite this other girl to the party because when she invited us out to her birthday dinner, she told us that it was a split the bill type of thing, right?”

“Right,” Toji mutters, never looking up from his phone.

“So I tell Amara, girl. What the hell do I look like splitting the bill with somebody? I’m paying for my meal, tipping the waiter and taking my ass home.”

“Right,” he mutters again, stretching his arm back as he scrolls his thumb across his screen.

“The girl catches an attitude and is like, ‘It’s my birthday. I wanna go to a steak restaurant, and imma�� ball out on shrimp, oxtails, lamb chops. Everyone will pay an equal five hundred and sixty—“

“And?” He cuts off, wide eyes shooting up as he hears the number, “There’s an ‘and’ after that number? ‘The fuck I look like paying five hundred American dollars for something I’m not consuming? That lobster better revive itself and boil all over again,” he exclaims.

“Moral to the story is, her and the girl aren’t cool anymore and now she’s blowing up Amara’s phone because she’d already bought her outfit for the party. Make the check out to that lamb chop, bitch,” she finalizes, turning towards him as she then asks, “But seriously, do you like it?”

He takes focus on her outfit, which…wasn't actually an outfit. She stands across from him, wearing a chrome triangle bikini top with matching bottoms, turning to the side as her entire ass was out due to it being thong styled swimwear. He catches his name that’s tattooed on her hip, coming to the conclusion that there was barely anything covering her if he could see that. 

“It’s sexy as hell,” he replies, “A little too sexy, babydoll.”

“It’s a pool party, Toji. Was I supposed to go in a large shirt?”

“Maybe,” he shrugs.

She rolls her eyes, turning back to the mirror. She sighs, “Maybe I should’ve gotten a one piece. I need to tone up a bit in my stomach, it’s getting a little soft,” she mutters, running her fingers over her abdomen. Toji looked over her body, seeing her abs coming through her upper stomach, trying to figure out what the hell she was going on about.

He turns his head towards her, dropping his phone as he asked, “You need to be fucked in front of that mirror before you go?”

Her eyes go wide as she turns, “No!” 

“ Stop talking about yourself then,” he replies, lifting his phone back up. 

She sighs, knowing that she might be being exaggerative. But every time she stares at herself, she sees the girl that would’ve worn a large T-shirt to a pool party. She wished she could get out of her own head. 

Toji steps out of the ice bath, Sonali catching a glimpse of the monster that hung between his legs, a towel quickly being thrown around his waist before she could put a microscope to him. 

“You look good,” he walks past her, slamming his palm on her ass, “The color goes well with your skin tone.”

He wanted to scream for her to take it off. To stay with him in bed, unable for other men to see the demon of a body she had. He let that thought subside. 

“Even if I wanted some dick, did you forget that I just recently got back on birth control? Today’s the last day before it actually activates,” She reminds.

“I know that. Maybe I want a baby,” he shrugs.

She rolls her eyes, “Please. You have Muffin.”

“Of course I do. Muffin!” He then calls.

The large Cane Corso speeds into the room, attacking him as the dog flops onto the bed. Toji groans happily as he wraps his arms around the animal. 

“My Muffin. You won’t put on a skimpy ass bikini and throw yourself to the wolves, will you?” He sarcastically asks, the dog panting in excitement as he rubs her belly. 

“What’s that supposed to mean? Do you not want me to go?” She comes out of the bathroom, beginning to search for her makeup bag in the closet. She doesn’t hear a response from him as he lays next to Muffin, opening the laptop beside their bed. She comes out from the closet as she says, “Hello?” Raising an eyebrow.

He really doesn’t want to have the conversation of him feeling some type of way about her outfit. He doesn’t want to show his jealousy or insecurities, although it probably would’ve been the better option to do. 

He sighs, “Nah, baby. I want you to have fun. What shoes are you wearing?”

“Nothing too crazy, probably my YSL’s,” she shrugs, “I’m more so worried about my hair and makeup. I’m not getting in that damn pool, too much chlorine and I had a wash day not too long ago!”  

“Maybe those clear heels I bought you will go better with your color scheme.”

“The stripper looking ones?”

“Yeah,” he nods.

“Mmm, okay, fashionista! And here I thought you were just in the shackles of your black long sleeves and sweatpants combo.” 

He chuckles, “I am in the shackles. But forreal, don’t have too much fun. I did tell De’Angelo to come pick you up from work tomorrow, let you get ready and then to bring you to my dressing room before my fight. You'll be there?”

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world, Daddy,” she grins, going over to him as she plops herself on his lap, laughing as he groans from the impact. 

She stares over the tattoo along his ribs as he continues to glance over the screen of the computer, his eyebrows peeking up as he then asks, “Why am I getting an email from the neighborhood saying we’ve been reported?”

Sonali pauses. She purses her lips together as she flips off of him, making a whistling noise as she says, “C’mon, Muffin. You’ ready to eat?” 

The dog immediately jumps up as she begins following behind her owner. Toji calmly calls her name, “‘’Nali.”

She lets out a deep breath as she says, “Okay, okay. Fine. Me and Muffin were out on our morning jog a couple of days ago and this guy approached me and asked for my number.”

She sees his face twist up as she then continues, “I told him no and that I was engaged, of course. He kept pressing me, asking about Muffin and why she wasn’t on a leash. I told him she was trained—“

“Why were you still talking to him?”

“…I don’t know? I was being nice.”

“‘The fuck you being nice for?”

She pauses as she hears the slight raise of his voice. Her tone goes soft as she finishes, “He asked if he could shake my hand. I told him no. When he put his hand out anyways, Muffin bit him. I immediately reported it to the office, but I was only in violation of having her off of a leash.” 

“And you’re just telling me this now?” He stands from the bed, Sonali quickly turning into the bathroom as she sees him following behind her, “Muffin should’ve bit his fucking arm off, brought it home to me so I could find his ass and beat the shit out of him with it. He could’ve done anything to you.”

“I know that, Toji. I was fine. I could’ve defended myself if needed—“

“I don’t give a fuck, Sonali,” he calls her by her full name.

He sees her face change, a soft frown coming to her lips. She’s not used to him being upset with her. It’s not that she took advantage of that, she just hated seeing him upset, so it was easier to keep things from him. He runs his fingers over his damp hair, coming towards her as he lifts her onto the bathroom counter.

“You have to tell me when stuff like that happens, baby. God forbid he tried to hurt you and I wasn’t there, I would’ve lost my fucking mind. Please just be careful when taking your daily runs, okay?”

She nods her head, “Yeah, okay. I’m sorry,” she brings her arms around his neck, pulling his forehead to hers as he replies, “I’m not mad.”

“You sure? You’re not gonna go find him and kill him?”

“Imma’ mush his fucking skull in. But I’m not mad at you,” he clarifies.

She rolls her eyes, pushing him away from her as she hops off of the counter, “Mmm, whatever. You’ jealous or something?” She taunts, making her way back out of the bathroom as she retrieves her makeup. He squeezes his fists together as he thinks, maybe, taking another breath as he heads back into the bedroom.

 

                              ᡕᠵ᠊ᡃ࡚ࠢ࠘ ⸝່ࠡࠣ᠊߯᠆ࠣ࠘ᡁࠣ࠘᠊᠊ࠢ࠘𐡏~♡

The night falls on the next day rather quickly. Buzz about the fight goes along the entire city, Sonali watching as De’Angelo pulls up to the front of the building, seeing long lines of men and women—a huge influx of women— chatting excitedly as they hand their tickets to the person within the booth, making their way into the arena. 

She takes D’s hand as he pulls her through the crowd, eyes lightly glaring over her as they jump the line and walk through, Sonali politely thanking anyone working within the building. They guide them upstairs to the second floor, leading them to a door with ‘FUSHIGURO’ aligned in all red. 

“Yeah?” Toji calls out with a slight groan as he hears a knock, his tone sounding slightly exasperated as the fighters focus was on his upcoming match.

Sonali slowly presses the door open as she softly asks, “Can I come in?”

As she slowly opens the door, Toji sits in his full gear along the dressing room sofa. Black mouth piece, compression leggings beneath the black shorts he wears, his name titled along the hem of his bottoms. His tattoos seem to stand out more as he wears darker attire.  Harsh eyes focus in as he talks to Shiu and his coach. That focus slowly dissipates as he looks to the door, a look of shock crossing his face as she enters, quickly gazing over at the barely fitted dress she wears. It was onyx, white lace trimming the top and bottom of the short material. Extremely short. A soft pink bow sits in the middle at the top where her breasts are pushed up, nearly spilling from the fabric, it being thin where everyone can slightly see her brown nipples. To top it all off, it barely covers her ass, the skin jiggling with every movement she makes, clearly ill-fitting as she has to lightly pull it down with every step. She wears the clear tall heels he’d bought her, his leather jacket hung over the entire dress—although that didn’t change how fucking preposterous it was— her usual dark curls now lengthened out in loose waves, small pink bows cascading in her hair. She was fucking gorgeous. Sexy. Edible. Fuckable. Toji wanted to kill her. 

She smiles softly as she sees him while removing the leather jacket, throwing it to the side of the sofa as she presses her knees against the cushions, wrapping her arms around Toji’s neck as she slightly bends down to do so. From across the mirror, Toji catches her pink hello-kitty panties as she bends down, Shiu and De’Angelo also sees this. Everyone can’t help but stare.

“Hi, Shiu. How are you?” She asks. God, this girl was so bad with awareness.

“Uh…I’m good,” he adjusts his suit, the sight of the dress quickly arousing the man without trying to do so. 

Toji’s gaze remained fixated on her as he said nothing. His emotions went from annoyance, to arousal, to complete rage as he now caught the sight of the other two men.

“You need me to glue your eyes back into your head? Or better yet, rip them out of your eye sockets all in one? Get the fuck out,” he spits to both of them. 

Both Shiu and De’Angelo practically run out, Sonali frowning softly as she asks, “What’s wrong?”

He runs his hand over his face as he stands from the sofa, throwing his mouthguard onto the mirror dresser. He had a lot—repeat—a lot of patience with Sonali. Her naivety to dangerous situations, the way she dressed, the way she smiled in the attention of any man without realizing what she was doing. But this had to be his icing on the cake. 

He drops his hand from his face as he finally speaks, “What in the actual fucking hell—are you wearing, Sonali?”

She blinks. Standing from the sofa as she comes behind him, laughing uncomfortably as she sarcastically mutters, “A dress? What else would it b—“

“Do you see me laughing? Do I look like a fucking joke to you?”

Her mouth clasps closed as he comes inches away from her face, hovering over her smaller frame. She ducks back a bit as she puts together that he’s entirely serious. Shit.

“You bought this for me, Toji.”

He smacks his lips, actually finding something funny in that. “Nah. I didn’t buy that, I just paid for it. I would’ve never let you have a dress like that had I seen you try it on, don’t be fucking stupid.”

Stupid?

“Stupid?” She looks around, “Who the fuck are you talking to?” She comes even closer to his face, ducking down as she squints, “Wanna rewind? Clearly you’ve lost your mind.”

“Damn right I’ve lost my mind. I’m talking to my fiance who decided to come to my fight wearing half of her fucking outfit!” He exclaims, “This is my first time seeing you today. God fuckin’ knows where else else you’ve been in this stupid ass dress!” 

“I was at work!” She fired back, “Which you should know, you keep De’Angelo chained to me like he’s my fucking babysitter!” 

“I wouldn’t have to hire a babysitter if you weren’t such a goddamn child, Sonali. Just no fuckin’ awareness to any situation! First it was you not making a big deal out of the fact that some motherfucker in the neighborhood damn near attempted to assault you, now this! Things happen to women too fucking fast. I can’t protect you if I’m not around, or I don’t know what happened! That’s why you have De’Angelo. But none of this even matters if you wanna make shit harder by walking around dressed like a fuckin’ slut!” 

She jerked back at his words. Her eyes went slightly wide, immediately feeling as they filled with hot, angry tears. She hadn’t felt this type of rage in so long. The only other time she’d felt like this, her fist was plummeted within a woman’s face. She felt disrespected, hurt by his words. 

“You know how long it took me to even be able to wear a t-shirt without sleeves? Anything that showed my stomach? Any part of my body, really. This was my fear. To be judged. But I didn’t think it would be by the person who got me out of my shell in the first place,” she spoke with a depth, wanting him to hear every word, tears dropping mindlessly down her face. 

His anger softened for a moment as he heard her words. Realizing the things he said, he knew he couldn’t take them back. His biggest fear was hurting this woman in a way he couldn’t repair, and hitting her in her biggest insecurities definitely was a way to do that. He watches as she presses her hands over her face, masking her tears as she holds in her cries, finally releasing as she trembles out a soft sob. She quickly turns away from him, beelining for the door.

“Fuck,” he muttered, “Babydoll. I’m—“

It all happened so fast. When he reached for her wrist, she turned towards him, rapidly swinging her right fist forward as it plunged into the middle of his stomach, Toji unable to block her hit as her left fist painfully knocked into his jaw. He stumbled back as he caught himself against the mirror. His eyes immediately went down to her left fist, seeing the blood along her knuckles, finger bare of her ring. Even as pissed as he was, he still knew everything about her. Of course she removed her ring to prove just how lethal her left hand was. 

He stared at her, the anger from earlier washing over his entire body. He wasn’t just angry now. He was pissed. He spat against the floor, watching as a pool of blood dropped from his mouth, looking over to the mirror to see she’d punched directly on a previous scar. She knew it was wrong to become violent with him— she figured she just wanted to do something to hurt him as well. 

“That’s how you do that move,” she sneered, placing her ring back on her finger. 

The door then opens as Shiu enters, seeing the scene in front of him. Sonali’s fists grip under her fingers, hands still shaking as she only focused on Toji who stared evilly back at her. 

“We’re up, Fushiguro—“

Shiu grunts as Sonali bumps his shoulder, flying past him. His eyes go back to Toji as he says, “Should I ask what happened?”

Toji says nothing. In silence, he turns back towards the mirror as he looks for his mouth guard, only saying, “Bring me my gloves.” 

She felt like she was gonna have an anxiety attack, leaning against the wall outside of the dressing room as she held her chest, feeling all of her emotions that she buried down returning. They had their disagreements, but this had to be one of the worst. The way he spoke to her, her reaction to his words. She felt regretful. She wanted to apologize, she hoped that he was apologetic as well. 

She clears her eyes of tears as she can hear the rumble of chaos coming from downstairs, hearing as they call his name through the speakers in the arena. Pulling herself together as she turned the corner where De’Angelo stood, gripping his hand as she pulled him forward, “Let’s go.”

Anytime she came to his show, she had a front row seat directly across from the ring. This time she wished she was in the nosebleeds. She sits next to De’Angelo who stares everywhere but her, noticing how her eyes stay along her legs, adjusting herself uncomfortably in her dress. 

“Mr. Fushiguro told me to give you this, he knew you would be cold,” He says, handing her the leather jacket she previously wore earlier. 

“He said that?” She asks.

“…Yes ma’am,” he replies softly, watching as she slowly takes the jacket from him. 

He helps her put the jacket over her shoulders, her eyes coming upward as everyone around her cheers. An uproar goes along the building as Toji appears in the ring. She sees that his scar is healing faster than she expected, a small hint of relief coming from her at that. Usually he would wink at her before any match she came to, this time, she assumed he would keep his head in the opposite direction. But no. He turns, looking directly at her as he winks. She frowns.

“May I say something, Sonali?” 

She’s taken out of her thoughts as she turns to De’Angelo. She sighs, “Are you about to ‘dad’ me right now?”

“You need it. I’m old enough to be your father. God rest his soul,” he speaks, Sonali crossing her arms over her chest, feeling a ball forming in her throat. 

“Both of you were wrong for the way you handled that situation. But he should’ve expressed that in a different way. My daughter would’ve been hung on a flagpole by this goddamn dress. But you’re grown, I can’t tell you what you shouldn’t wear. The ultimate issue is you also shouldn’t have hit him, even if you know he can take a punch. You just need to apologize to each other. And quickly, when y’all are fighting it fucks up my chakras.”

Sonali turns her eyes to him, unable to help but softly laugh. She sighs, “I don’t like you sometimes.”

“I’m your babysitter, remember? You’re not supposed to.”

As she brings her eyes back to the ring, she sees they’d already begun. It was always a nervous time for her to watch him fight. But she also knew that he was fast, and his strength was terrifying. He patiently awaits for his opponent to make the first move, the opponent ducking down, Toji quickly moving out of the way as he sends a devastating hook to the man’s face, flying him backwards against the ring. The crowd goes wild, the referee having to step in as Toji continues swinging his gloves along the man’s face, probably knocking all of his thoughts out of his head. He’s agile, knowing immediately which part of the man’s body he wants to connect with next, giving him no room to defend himself. She could feel his anger pooling off of his body, fists throwing various strikes, the opponent panting as he gets in a few hits himself, Toji immediately blocking them. 

It was one second as she watched his opponent give him a good hit to the face, Sonali cringing as she shut her eyes, leaning her elbows on her legs as she muttered, “Fuck. C’mon, baby.”

Regardless of how they felt about one another right now, she was here. He had her support. He doesn’t show any sign of fatigue, even after that good strike against his chin. Her eyes scatter along their moving bodies, Sonali never expecting as Toji dips down with his right fist, punching the man within the airway of his stomach, coming back up as he strikes him within the left side of his jaw, his body dropping down to the ring floor. Chaos goes along the audience. Sonali’s unable to hold the relieved smile that comes along her face, De’Angelo clapped as she cheered at the succession of him achieving that movement. His team patted his muscular arms and shoulders, pulling him back down to give him time to breath. A countdown went along the room as his opponent still hadn't gotten up. When Sonali thought this would all be over, the opponent struggles as he stands, either crazy or just plain stupid as he’s ready for another round.

She frowns as they call for a thirty-minute break, the opponent complaining about how Toji commited a “foul,” claiming he’d kicked him a couple of times. Sonali rolls her eyes, leaning back against her seat as both opponents leave the ring, scurrying back to their dressing rooms. 

“Mr. Fushiguro requests that you come back to his dressing room.”

Her eyebrows furrow, “Right now? I’m sure Shiu doesn’t want me distracting him.”

“I’m just telling you what Shiu told me. Don’t get me in trouble again,” he reminds, Sonali chuckling as she replies, “I’m going.”

Making her way back upstairs, she feels herself become nervous. She wants to find the correct words to have this conversation with him, hoping that he’s in the same headspace as she is. 

“You’re not coming in?” She asks De’Angelo who stands on the opposite side of the door.

“No ma’am,” he starts firmly.

She raises an eyebrow at that, muttering, “Uh, okay.”

She pushes the door open as she makes her way inside, preparing herself for the amount of adrenaline she’s sure he carries from the fight. She expects to see Shiu and his coach in there speaking to him, seeing as he stands across from the mirror by himself, carefully unwrapping the bandages on his fingers. 

She blows out a breath, “Toji—“

“Come here.”

Once she enters the dressing room, she can immediately hear his heavy breathing. He says this as he doesn’t turn to look at her—His tone was clear for her to listen. 

She slowly comes forward, standing a couple of inches  away from him as she says, “I want us to talk—“

“On your knees,” he calmly interrupts, eyes still not upon hers as he finishes unraveling the last bit of his bandages. Her heart thuds in her chest as she hears this, seeing as he now turns his face towards her. He was completely serious. 

“Now?” She asks.

“Now.”

She still stands in confusion. He becomes impatient, gripping her firmly by her hair, pulling her down as her knees come to the floor. Her eyes only watch him, becoming almost doe like, body becoming infinitely aroused as she awaited for his next command.

“You want my dick in your mouth, don’t you?”

Her mouth waters at the thought. She doesn’t know what’s gotten into him, but she nods her head nonetheless.

“Yes.”

“Yes, what?” 

He grips her hair tighter, using his other hand as he pulls out his length from under his boxers, veiny and large as it stands across from her face. 

She nods her head, correcting herself as she says softly, “…Yes, Daddy.”

“Good.”

He pulls her jaw open, forcing himself past her lips as he knocks into the back of her throat, pulling her down by her hair as her mouth makes contact with his hips. Sonali moans as she opens her mouth wider, choking out a cough which sends vibrations throughout Toji’s body. He grunts as he watches her, Sonali drooling more each time she pulls her mouth back to his tip, swirling her tongue on the inside of her cheek. She keeps her face upwards, looking straight into his as he leans his head down, eyes blown with lust. 

“You see that?” He asks, digging his fingers within the scalp of her hair, moving his hips rhythmically into her mouth, creating a wet noise with each connection. 

“This fuckin’ mouth of yours. Imma’ make a mess of your fuckin’ throat. It’s mine,” he tells her. She hums at that, feeling her jaw slightly burning, spit running down the sides of her mouth as she twists her head, falling deeper within the trap of his words. It gets to a point where she barely does any movement herself, her throat full as he slams into the back of it, eyes becoming watery as he doesn’t plan to be gentle with her.

He finally relaxes as he pulls her back, Sonali breathing heavily within her chest as she runs her tongue over her lips. Toji tilts his head, “So fuckin’ needy, aren’t you? You want more?”

She nods her head, feeling her nipples hardening at his words as he gently smacks his palm against her cheek, “Say you want more. Use your words.”

“I want more,” she says quietly.

“Louder.”

“I want more, please,” she raises her voice a bit more.

He then pulls her up by her hair again, pushing her against the mirror dresser as her back is now against it, legs spread widely as her knees fall along the black marble. She shivers at the coldness of it, feeling as Toji scoots her down towards him, pulling her panties to the side as he attaches his mouth to her clit. He immediately moaned at the taste of her. She shudders at the cold feeling of his tongue-ring, bringing her eyes down as she watches him circle his head slowly in between her legs, bringing his tongue in a dreadful up and down motion as he spreads her legs wider, holding her down by both legs as he makes out with her opening. Sonali presses her hands to the back of her knees, raising her head as she watches.

“Yeah, baby. That’s it,” she moans, “Eat my pussy just like that,” she talks, shuddering out a whine as he spanks the skin of her ass beneath them. She raises her head fully to look at him, pushing her hand through his hair to look within his eyes that don’t come up to hers.

“Baby…look at me,” she asks softly.

He grunts at her voice, never fulfilling her request. It frustrates her. Diving his tongue deeper into her, he motions his head back and forth, Sonali biting her lip to hold back her dazed smile. She continues to speak to him, “That’s so fucking good, Daddy,” she whimpers, “Fuck my pussy with your tongue. I love that.”

He became annoyed with her talking, not eating her out for the sake of her pleasure. He was simply preparing her body for the way he was about to fuck her. On the other hand, her voice was like a drug he couldn’t stop withdrawing from, feminine and soft as she whined, spreading her legs wider and dipping his tongue deeper with each word. It was like lighting a fire in hell, knowing how aroused she could make him by just speaking.

“Here, let me help you,” she says, gripping his hair as she raises his mouth from her clit, slowly placing it back down as his lips create a suctioning noise from that. Sonali grinds herself against his mouth, watching as Toji moves his tongue all around her core, going back down to her opening as he fully pushes his tongue inside, fucking her as she asked. She becomes more wet from that, gushing out each time he removes his mouth just for a second, shoving right back in. She giggles sultrily, twisting her head to the side as she watches. Her head falls against the black marble of the dresser, back arching as she whimpers, “Don’t stop. I’m gonna squirt all over your fucking mouth, baby. Just the way you like it. Just the way you want me to, okay? I promise.” 

His entire body inflames at her words, standing up fully as he keeps a hold of her panties with his other hand, dropping his tip along her clit as it smushes arousingly against it. He mutters, “Hold your legs up,” Sonali doing so as he takes a hold of her ankles. She leans her head back against the dresser again, grunting slightly as he’s already pushing his tip inside her, taking that hand as he lifts her head, “Nah. You’re gonna watch me go inside you. Take every fuckin’ inch of this dick.” 

Her legs tremble as he fills her, her mouth going agape as she watches all of him being swallowed by her opening. An intense pinch is within her abdomen as she closes her eyes, whimpering deeply in her throat. Her body feels complete, regardless of how big he actually was, no matter how long he ate her out for—she couldn’t handle him.

“Oh my godd…” she quivers, moaning loudly as she tightens around him, Toji spanking her as he demands, “Open my pussy. I’m gonna ruin you. You’ll love every second of it.”

She’s unable to reply, her voice lost as he slowly pulls back, somehow going deeper when he pushes all the way in. An influx of curses leave her mouth, Toji’s hand moving from her hair to her lips, shoving his fingers into her mouth as he grits out, “Watch your mouth.”

He pulls her by the bite of her teeth, the back of her thighs dirtily clapping with his hips, Toji taking the hand that’s still around her ankle as he brings his thumb to her clit, rubbing in circles to relax her. Sonali closes her eyes, in a high state of mind almost, vision rolling to the back of her head as she moans dumbly, intelligence thrown out the window with each thrust. 

“This fuckin’ dress,” he growls, pulling it up her hips as it now almost looked to be a shirt. His actions are a mix of lust and frustration. Nonetheless, he’s unable to hold back his desires and feelings as he grabs a hold of her hips, shoving her down to meet his body. He watched every reaction she gave. He was clearly still pissed off, but the way she looked up to him with her eyes, her mouth sucking his fingers deeper into her throat as she moaned, whined and writhed beneath him, it didn’t help in the slightest. He wanted to tear the entire dress apart. He brings his hand back down, spanking her ass again, this time leaving a bruise. 

“You think I want every man in this building to see my woman? I think you like it when I’m mad. Shit turns you on,” he grunts, Sonali jumping as he continuously spanks her. 

“I…Toji…” she softly cries, wanting to reach her hand to his. He takes her hand, roughly placing it back behind her knee as he says, “Hold your legs. Shut the fuck up.”

Her mouth closes as she whimpers, lightly grazing her teeth against his fingers as he shoves them within her throat. All she can do is watch. She tries to hold herself together, wanting to adjust her body as she’s trapped in a position where she feels every…single…thrust. Her eyes tear away from his, more curses releasing from her lips as he immediately smacks her cheek at that, moving her face away from his hand as she whines, “Fuckk, baby.” 

“You love it, I know,” he becomes irritated, “Daddy’s always gonna fuck you like this. You’re wet as fuck,” he continues, her thighs smacking into his skin, she hiccups as she nods, “I love being fucked like this. Don’t stop, don’t stop. Don’t stoppp,” she can’t stop whining, becoming more wet with her own words. Toji can’t help but moan in response, slowly slipping from the mask of anger he wears. 

The mirror knocks into the wall, Toji bringing his hand back into her hair as he pulls her head backwards, forcing her to look at herself. 

“You’re so fuckin’ pretty, babydoll. Look at yourself,” he talks, Sonali’s eyes closing as she speaks, “Stop it.”

“Believe me. You’re pretty as fuck, baby. Never seen a woman more beautiful. Even in this stupid ass dress,” he grunts.

Sonali can feel herself becoming emotional at his words, a mix of pleasure also collecting in her eyes as tears begin to form. She moans, voice shaky as she replies, “You don’t mean that…” 

“I mean every word, ‘Nali. Never loved a woman more than I love your pretty ass. Look at me when I’m talking to you,” he tilts her head more, Sonali lifting her eyes to show her attentiveness. She can see from the mirror as he holds her other leg by the ankle, nearly lifting her hips off of the marble as he drops them down onto his length, Sonali whining loudly as he continues to speak, “Look at my wife. My fuckin’ wife.” 

She cries softly at his words, closing her eyes as she pulls them away from the mirror. He keeps going, “So fuckin’ sorry, babydoll…”

She ignores him, moaning softly as he removes himself from her and brings his lips down to her clit, sucking and swirling his tongue against the throbbing in between her legs. She holds his hair in her hands, body becoming immensely tired from his movements. Toji was the opposite. He was only getting started. 

She inhales as he then wraps his arms around her waist, picking her up as he then brings them over to the sofa, sitting himself back against the furniture as he sits her against his lap. 

He kisses her shoulders, gradually moving up to her throat as he drags his tongue against the skin. Her body shivers from the jewelry in his mouth, always adding an extra touch of pleasure to anything she was feeling. It was a soft touch, but it was enough to make her react. That reaction made him want to keep going. He touches her face as she looks down to him, he thinks she looks adorable, then confidently pulling her face forward as he kissed her. It was always warm, his mouth completely hot against hers. She immediately relaxed into the kiss. They stopped all of their other movements as they were only focused on kissing each other, wrapping her arms around his neck as she kissed him deeper, an assertiveness coming out from him as he pulled her down, thrusting his tongue into her mouth, allowing Sonali to catch it each time it entered past her lips.

She wasn't sure why her face became slightly warm at his sudden sweetness. Instead of telling him what she wanted, she pulled his lips to her throat as she wanted him to kiss there again, feeling as Toji chuckled at that. She felt the coldness of the piercing return, his hands sliding down to her ass as he squeezed. She gripped his neck, lightly whimpering as he placed his tongue back in her mouth, legs wanting to squeeze shut as she could feel herself becoming aroused even more.

Her body trembles almost embarrassingly. He goes from kissing her to dragging his tongue along her neck. She hides her face within his shoulder as she lightly speaks against his ear, “I want you…” she says softly.

He lets out a soft grunt of satisfaction when he hears her  words, smiling as he keeps kissing her on the neck, not being too aggressive, keeping it going at a decent pace. 

“You want me, huh?” He teases.

“Yes,” she admits, nodding her head, face completely red. Her breath hitches as he firmly grips her face, pointing her eyes to his as he speaks, “Repeat that to me.”

“I…I want you,” she repeated again, flustered at his aggression.

“Say it louder. Mean it. Tell Daddy you wanna show him how much you love this dick,” he taunts her. 

“Baby, please,” she begs, “Don’t be mean,” she pouts. She went to protest again, her mind swarming as he roughly pulled her panties to the side of her ass, holding the thin material. Her mind goes numb as he slightly lifts her up with his other hand, sinking her down onto his length. Her mouth drops open, eyes falling to his as she whines, dropping her face within his shoulder again as she could hear him ask, “What was that?”

His voice sounds more gruff than usual, "Was that a complaint?"

“No…I…fuck,” she curses, unable to finish her sentence as a moan broke through her lips, her arms relaxing around his neck as he picks her up, dropping her back down on his hips. Her eyes nearly roll to the back of her head at the feeling, thighs trembling in response. She couldn’t stop gasping, biting her lip to stop the sounds. She became more aroused with each movement, hips plummeting together as she held onto him, whimpering along his ear. 

“I’m waiting for you to show me,” he spanks her, Sonali jumping in response. 

She feels her muscles weakening, body becoming sore as she places her hands along his hard stomach, lifting her hips as she slowly brings them back down, moaning softly at the pleasure she feels from doing so. He watches her with hooded eyes, leaning back along the sofa as he only keeps his hands along her back, allowing her to fuck herself. 

“F—feels so good…” she repeats, circling her hips down, moving her hair out of her face as she becomes hot. 

He was enthralled by her beauty. Her hair was messy around her face, makeup slightly messy as she continued to dig her teeth into her lip. But as his eyes traveled down, his anger began creeping back up as he stared over this damn dress, seeming this caused their entire issue in the first place.

“Let me show you.”

He suddenly places his arms under thighs, lifting her up on his lap as she’s now half-way in the air, Toji bringing her up, slamming her back down, bouncing her against his hips in a way that it caused her to shout. She nearly feels this man in her stomach. She becomes incoherent, Toji arrogantly chuckling as he talks to her with every bounce, “Fuck, baby. Look at you, you’re creaming’,” watching as her arousal appears more on his length with each raise of her hips as he continues talking to her, “This is how I want you. I wanna see you cry,” he keeps going, ignoring the squelching of her opening, Sonali sobbing mercilessly atop of him. 

“Tell me how you feel,” he asks.

“I feel so good, so good, so good,” she cries, “Ungh, babbyy.” 

“I know, babydoll,” he coos mockingly, “Keep taking my shit so well,” he’s relentless, bringing his hips up to meet the movement he causes, snapping upward to hit her deepest spots.

Sonali places her hand on his leg, leveraging as she begins meeting his rhythm, coming back down onto him as she grinds, “Yes, baby. I love your dick….So much…so fucking much,” she softly cries, barely able to get the words out, “Why are you fucking me like this…”

“‘Cause you asked for it.”

He continues moving his hips with her on top, pressing her down more and more. He slows down, keeping them stationary so that she could feel everything that he’s giving to her, allowing her to experience the moment fully. He takes his hand against her throat, now using that to tug her down, grunting as he feels himself cumming. It happened before he realized, Sonali keeping her eyes closed as a warmth filled her body, trapped in his hold as she continued to drop down on his thighs. Her body could barely take anymore, a feeling of relief almost washing over her at his release. 

“Baby, I—“

“I know.” 

He pulls out of her, twisting her around so she’s now laid on his lap with her back pressed to his chest. He rubs his hands along her body, squeezing her breast within his hand as he drags his fingers down her stomach, placing both of her legs against each side of his so they’re spread open. Her eyes face the mirror across from them, feeling her face going warm at the sight of them together. He takes his other hand as he places it on her throat, fingers by her inner thigh traveling over to her clit, beginning to rub in circles.

She places her hand along his face as he looks down to her, continuing to rub her clit as she begs, “Kiss me.”

He does. He places his mouth over hers, the both of them dirtily wrapping their tongues around one another, Sonali moaning as his fingers gently trail over her core, rubbing the area in a way that had her feening for more. She lightly raises her hips up, Toji chuckling within her mouth as he feels her become more wet.

“Look at you. My pretty babydoll,” he compliments against her lips, “I’m sorry, baby. I was mean to you, wasn’t I?”

The hand that’s gently against his face begins lightly gripping his jaw as he rubs his fingers faster, whimpering as she nods her head. She attempts to kiss him, her mouth staying agape as he spreads her opening, rubbing one finger directly along her clit. 

“I hate this fuckin’ dress,” he groans, “Hate that you look so fuckin’ sexy in it. Hate that other eyes see what’s mine.”

“‘M sorry, baby,” she whimpered against his mouth. 

“But they’ll never get to see you like this, will they?”

Her mouth drops open again as he takes his index and middle finger, sinking them inside of her, slowly pulling them out halfway as he sunk them back in. He continued this, pulling her head upwards as she was back to the mirror.

“Crying all over my dick, now crying from my fingers. But you want more,” he moans, feeling his fingers being pulled back inside of her, wanting more. Needing more. 

“Squirt on my fingers, baby. Wanna see all of you,” he begs, whimpering himself, “Please.” 

Sonali trembles at his words, gripping his neck as she cries, her entire body shuddering as she listens to him slam his fingers within her, soaking the sofa with her arousal. He sticks his tongue in her mouth, laughing arrogantly as she orgasms, writhing against him as she screams. She can’t stop screaming, sobbing out his name as her hips tremble with each thrust of his hand. 

“So fucking beautiful. I love you,” he grunts, smashing his lips to hers, “Tell me you fuckin’ love me.”

“I love you so much, Toji,” Sonali cries, her entire body shaking as she continues to orgasm. He holds her as she calms her breathing, her body still trembling as he passionately kisses her again. She’d never felt this much need and desire from him in a while, accepting his kiss as he spanked her opening, laughing within her mouth as she whined, “Stop it.”

“I’m done. I promise,” he chuckles, picking her up so she cradles within his lap. He moves her hair out of her face, gripping her chin as he sees her makeup running down her face, tears still blinking within her eyes. 

“You okay?” He softly asks, still feeling her body shuddering, “I didn’t mean to hurt you, babydoll.” 

“I’m fine, Toji. Don’t get all sensitive and worrisome,” she brushes him off, wiping her face. 

“I didn’t mean anything about the sex. I fucked you stupid, I know you like that,” he says, her face going warm as he continues, “I’m saying in general. I’m really sorry about what I said. I’d never wanna hurt you in that way. I was just…”

He takes a deep breath, “Jealous.”

She frowns, “Jealous?”

“Babydoll, we’ve been together for years. I’ve seen you grow in more ways than one. To be at your full potential and the attention you get from it…it scares me, it scares me that I won’t be enough for you. You’ll continue to grow. The dress just kinda mixed together with the other insecurities I was facing,” he admits.

She sees the vulnerability within his face, pulling her forehead to his as she speaks, “No other man is comparable to you. You’re my heart. Please know that,” she states. 

He smiles weakly at her words, kissing her cheek as she continues, “But I have some apologizing to do as well. I should’ve never put my hands on you, no matter how upset I was. And…maybe the dress was a bit much,” she mutters to herself.

“I deserved it. I was a dick. And honestly, I don’t care what you wear, baby. I know you’re gonna come home to me with that damn outfit on. I’ll buy you a thousand of these dresses, fuck you in every single one of them,” he promises, making her giggle as he tickles her with his lips along her neck. 

“Maybe I can buy them in mediums next time,” she suggests. 

“We can always do the big t-shirt idea,” he also suggests. 

She then rolls her eyes, standing from his lap as he pulls the dress down to her upper thighs, a knock coming along the door as a voice shouts, “You’re late, Fushiguro! Round two!” 

“You should go,” she reminds, placing the leather jacket over her body as she zips it up halfway, covering the rest of the dress from the bottom. She looks to Toji’s eyes as she sees an amusement in them, glaring as she says, “Don’t say anything.”

“Wasn’t gonna. Until you zipped it up. I must’ve really punished your ass, huh? You’ sore?”

“I’m leaving,” she mutters, making her way to the door. “Maybe I will buy those dresses all in a small. Just to spite you!” 

“You’ need another reminder? ‘Cause I can really wear your ass out—“

“No,” she replies, sticking her tongue out, shrieking as he steps forward to grab her. 

He then grabs for his gloves and mouthguard, winking at her as she sticks her middle finger up, making her way back downstairs to watch him fight.

“That’s what I thought.” 

#toji x black character #toji smut #jjk toji #toji fushiguro #toji x reader #jjk #anime smut #jjk smut #black writers

[just-some-random-blogger]

The Supreme Empress

Kylo Ren x Reader

Summary: The dark side chose you. They pried you out of the rebel camps and dragged you from the ashes and the corpses of your family. The dark side chose you to strengthen the force, to be the vessel for their plans, to be the bride of the Supreme Leader's pupil, to bear Kylo Ren's seed and ensure the might of their divine wrath.

Word Count: 11k+ 🧍‍♀️💀

Warnings: fem!Reader, slow burn, forced marriage AU, themes of stockholm syndrome/gaslighting/brain washing, mentions/depictions of violence, enemies to lovers?, smut (scratching, marking, ?manipulating?, fingering, vaginal penetration, cock warming), fluff, angst, typos, etc.

A/N: this fucking ai chat man. fuck that shit MINORS DNI honestly. its my fault for making a plot. i just wanted to write smut fml. i hate it here. i couldn't even finish it cos now i cant write the smut dafaq? anyway im sure i got typos so you must forgive me. i have not gone through this yet and i need to brush my teeth and pull myself together bye Tagging: @pinksirensong @aralezinspace @sloanexx

I fell to my knees. I was in tears, in dust, in blood, and in pain. My wrists were bound behind me and my clothes were tattered and torn.

This was it. This was the day I die. I felt it in my bones. This was the reckoning.

And then my deliverer, my executioner, came before me. And then I felt the Force in him echo in the room and ripple through me like a blade through my chest.

It was him. The phantom that haunted me every time I closed my eyes. He was the nightmare in my sleep, and the damning voice in my head in the morning. The dark warrior, death given form, the murmuring voice of the shadows.

The Sith Lord.

Here he is, crossing this bridge from the entrance of this cursed compound.

The place is busy, busy with its plans of destruction. I heave at the grandness of it all. It was terrifying to see it up close, especially since I was evidently at the top, and it was a very long drop down.

I crane my neck up at him, face stained with tears. I was exhausted but I put on my last show. I bared my last look of defiance before he kills me, before he finally completes this cycle of torment he has been inflicting onto me.

I close my eyes and await his judgement.

I feel him come before me, but he instead walks past, and I hear someone choke from behind.

"Did I not instruct that she be left unharmed?" his voice barks through his dark mask.

My heart pounds as I hear straining from behind me. I steal a look from over my shoulder and instantly regret it when I see the two stormtroopers that dragged me here get thrown down the side of the bridge. I shudder. Like I said, it's a long drop down.

I look straight when he returns to me. I feel him undo my shackles with his Force, and then... he clutches my arm to help me stand.

I look up at him. I see my reflection on his helmet. I clench my jaw, "what do you want from me?"

"My empress-"

My stomach rolls.

"-I have finally retrieved you from your sullied camp to bring you to your rightful place next to me. To claim you as my own."

A shiver runs down my spine.

No, this can't be real.

My breathing strains. I grip my hands and I begin to step back.

It electrocutes me, this searing cold voice in my brain. It was a suddenly as if I remembered the dialogue in the horrors of my slumber that I so hardly tried to suppress. It was replaying now, the voice of the malevolent, the voice of the creature ruling my nightmares. "I give you to my pupil. With your Force converged with his, the purest of warriors will be borne. And my power will know no bounds."

"You remember now, bride," my captor iterated, "that voice in your head right now-- that is the Supreme Leader; that is Snoke."

I step back, "bride?" my breath hitches.

I was his b--

My knees almost give in, but again, his hold on my arm keeps me upright.

I feel my eyes begin to water.

Please, please, let this be another horrible, horrible nightmare.

"Is everything prepared?"

"Yes, my lord," two voices call out from behind me.

"Good," he says, and I released, "I will watch as you prepare her. I will not allow her be injured further."

I was--

I was here to be sacrificed to the darkness.

I was here to answer to the calls that have been plaguing me for so long, ever since that day my home planet was invaded, ever since everything I knew was reduced to atoms.

I let out a loud yelp when I am splashed with cold water. I let out a breathy curse and the servant who had done it, who had profusely apologized, is suddenly being choked.

It is only now I am cognizant again. It was now that I was aware I am in the bathroom, stripped naked in a tub, and my captor has his servant in a chokehold from across the room. I gasp and cover my bare chest, looking over my shoulder as he hisses, "you could not have made the water warmer? How would you like to be dunked in a pool of ice water?"

My breath hitches, "let her go!"

His voice buzzes behind his helmet as he curls his hand further with his outstretched arm, "she has one task, one simple task, and if she cannot perform it, then she is no use to me."

I panic as I see the servant's eyes water. I jolt when the other servant grabs my shoulder and begins to wash my skin as though nothing was awry. I turn from the servant back to him, "LET HER GO!"

He does nothing.

"LET. HER. GO!"

He seems to be debating my words.

I panic and quip breathlessly, "let her go!"

I sigh in relief when the servant is dropped.

A shiver runs down my spine when he goes at ease by the door. He clutches his hands before him and announces, "thank your empress for her mercy."

Immediately, before she can even catch her breath, the servant responds, "th-ank you, empress." The woman quickly begins to attend to me again.

I am far beyond perturbed.

I don't know what to do with myself, not when I was being bathed by strangers, not when I naked in the tub, not when he was there, watching me.

Why the fuck did that sicko have to watch like a bird in a fucking cage?

Careful, bride.

I stiffen in my place. The servants working on my body halt their work and ask me if their touch was too rough.

Lest you forget I have also been in your dreams. You ought to honor me even in your thoughts, baby bird.

"... my empress?" one servant calls.

"She is fine," he answers for me, "you may proceed."

And then, I'm being dragged out of the tub and patted down in front of a huge mirror. I don't know what to cover, and I can feel him looking. Never mind my naked form in and of itself, but my cuts and bruises from ripping and screaming at the stormtroopers that pried me into their ship. It was loathsome sight to see.

"Must you watch me?" I ask accusingly yet under my breath.

"Yes," he replies, as if it makes anything better, as if it was actually a question, as if he didn't know what I meant with my words. And then he clarifies, as if it helped, "your physical state does not bother me. It does not make you any less than you are, my bride."

My eyes twitch as I am finally handed undergarments to wear. I find my voice again, finally, "that's not the-"

"My pretty bride."

I cease my movements. What the fuck is he saying?

I don't have time to ponder those words as the servants urge me to dress and then quickly begin to fasten me with bandages, namely on my thigh where I had a cut and on my bicep that had a burn.

And though I so badly wanted to whine in protest and dramatic spite, I do my best to contain them. After all, the servants were helping me, they don't need to be Force choked for doing a job they were tasked to accomplish by their malignant master.

The next moment, I was being put into an elaborate garment and then they started painting on my face. Suddenly, I was.... turning into something else. I looked at the mirror and everything was so very real and unimaginable all at once. This was all happening to me. This wasn't a nightmare, not a fever dream, and there was no escape.

And then they told him- my groom- that I was done and I stared at my reflection, unable to recognize myself.

Who in the world were you?

"Come," he says, raising his hand up to me, "we must not delay any further."

I look at his reflection from the mirror. I look at his hand, hid behind his glove, his body, hid behind his cloak, and his face, hid behind his mask. I was going to me wed to this stranger, hidden in darkness?

I stare at him. I clench my jaw. I tell him I'm not going but utter not a single word. I sear it in his brain with my eyes. I scream it, blare it out as loudly as I could.

And yet he only watches me. He watches me with an urging dark hand.

My heart pounds in my ribs. I expect him to begin to lash out at one point, to choke me next, but he doesn't. He stands there, just stands there, reaching out to me.

Was this his twisted way of making me feel like I was willingly going to him? His way of telling me he was the only route in my life now?

My nostrils flare and I gather my skirt. I stare at him as I walk past him. My body was rigid and I had no idea where I was going, but I walked. And then he opened the doors for me.

My hand twitched when he took it, as he was suddenly beside me. I gasp at the unexpected and uninvited touch and I turn to him in surprise, but it is arduous with this ridiculous headpiece on me. His hand is massive and burning hot against my freezing clammy one. He tugs me toward him, "it's this way."

So, we when go this way.

We tread the halls, and I swear I could feel people following after us, more and more each moment, but I couldn't look back, literally, the fucking headpiece was in the way.

And then the atmosphere started to get darker, and it was like it was suddenly so much harder to breathe. It was clear to me we were heading for that large door, and that whatever was behind there was not good. It was not good at all.

He waved his hands once and the doors opened.

There was a great and terrible rush of Force that knocked into me. It was so strong and terrifying, I tighten my grip on my captor, and I cling onto him for safety. My breath is knocked out of my lungs, and all at once I am facing this large entity, this massive body of darkness, the literal flesh form of all my worst nightmares.

I was reeling back in fear. My stomach was in my chest and my heart was in my mouth.

I was in front of him. The Supreme Leader. Snoke.

And he was looking at me, looking right at me with contempt, with impatience, with exasperation.

My feet were stuck on the floor and my fingers were digging into arm of the man by my side. I couldn't do anything but feel my eyes water.

I snap to look my side when my name is called out. I turn to my groom as suddenly he is pacifying me, comforting me even, "the sooner we get this done, the sooner we can leave."

I don't know how I feel about his words, I don't know how I feel about how he takes my chin in his fingers and makes me turn my body to him. I don't know how I feel when he steadies my stupid headpiece when it knocks onto his shoulder. I don't know how I feel when I follow him mindlessly, when he and I head towards his gargantuan master.

Snoke speaks the moment we are in front of him. His voice rings, it reverberates, in the hall, in my ears, in my thorax, and in the dark corner of my mind that shudders at the recognition, "you have done well, my pupil. Very well."

My eyes lock with Snoke. I evade his stare and abruptly pull away from the man on my right. He stares at me for a moment when I do so, then looks back at Snoke, "thank you, master."

Snoke grumbles, "well, remove that ridiculous thing on your head and let us begin."

I don't know whether it is because I am fearful of the evil-king before me or because I am anticipative of the face of the man behind the mask, but I turn to him with a desperation. I turn to him when he removes his helmet and my breath catches in my throat.

He tucks his helmet under his arm and looks at me with his brown eyes that glistened with something sinister behind them. He parted his lips and I noticed the scar by its side that started by his brow went far past his cheek and collar. His hair was somehow perfectly tousled even after staying inside his face cage for so long. I don't know how I felt after seeing him face to face like this.

I suck in a sharp breath when he takes my hand. He promptly begins to speak.

"I-" he turns to our joined hands as he lifts them chest level, "Kylo Ren," his eyes dart back to me, "take you-"

My skin pricks at how he whispers my name. He says it as if it were a secret, as if he meant it with reverence, as if it was solemn.

"-to be my wife."

My empress.

I suck in a sharp breath at his voice in my head. My breath picks up. My stomach rolls. Get out.

Kylo Ren rubs my knuckles, "To protect you, to honor you, to venerate you until my last breath, or even beyond."

And then he looks at me. He stares at me. He bores into my being and plunges into my soul. I feel my hands begin to shake in his hold.

Kylo Ren looks in silence and I look in fear.

I start at the harsh call of the Supreme Leader to our side, "SPEAK YOUR VOWS, GIRL!"

I screw my eyes shut and gulp. I have to get out of here. Get me out of here! My breath strains now more than ever.

Suddenly, I hear a soft voice in my head. Suddenly, I dare to open my eyes and I see a disconcerting softness in my groom's expression.

Shhhhhhh.

He hushes me in my mind. He repeats his words from earlier.

The sooner we get this done, the sooner we can leave.

I open my mouth and huff helplessly. I repeat my groom's words and tears begin to fall from my eyes.

Snoke leans back in his throne and tents his hands together, "good, good. Then by the power of the darkness, the power vested in me, The Supreme Leader, the ruler of the galaxies and all peoples," he nods his head, "two have now become one."

My shoulders rise and my heart pounds at the explosion of loud exclamations. I look around the hall and only now realize that there were hundreds of individuals, looking down at us from the balconies above.

"Long live the Emperor and Empress!"

I am at a loss for what to do next. I don't know if I want to run away or drop dead. I find myself looking to Kylo Ren. Kylo Ren, whose brows slightly furrow in his seriousness. Kylo Ren who looks up to his people and raises his hand that is clutching his helm, inspiring them to cheer even more. Kylo Ren, who then looks down at me and firmly grips my hands before leading me out of the room.

I don't know what happens after that.

I think I'm having a panic attack.

Am I having a panic attack?

Can someone even think if they're having a panic attack?

I'm not having a panic attack.

I'm not having a panic attack.

"Enough," he speaks, turning to me, clutching my cheek. Kylo Ren looks at me with knit brows while his gloved hands make me face him. My neck strains because of the weight of my headpiece. He blinks at me and slips the thing off my head. A weight is lifted off my shoulders. Very suddenly, I think I'd have preferred if he removed my head altogether. He uses his Force to bring the object away. I watch as it floats off to a dresser, beside his helmet that was already there.

All at once, I realize I was in a bedroom. I look back at Kylo in horror. Oh, fuck, I was in a bedroom.

He huffs through his nostrils, "your thoughts are as loud as sirens."

I clutch my skirt tightly and slowly begin to move back.

Kylo watches me. He tilts his head down slightly and narrows his eyes.

I swallow the lump in my throat, "so what?" I shudder, "you're going to force an heir in me now?"

He raises his nose and tilts his head to the side, "it is my duty to sire an heir."

I gulp. My breathing begins to get shorter and shorter.

I start when he steps forward. I put more distance between us.

I shiver when he calls out my name.

"Don't," I point, "don't come any closer."

Kylo Ren offers me the courtesy of stopping in his place.

I catch my breath and watch him as he brings his hands behind him. Goosebumps form on my skin when he speaks, "I have just vowed to protect you, to honor you, and to venerate you." He brings his hands to the clasp of his cloak, "I will not force you to do anything with me that you don't want."

I scoff, tightening my grip on my clothes, "and you think I wanted to marry you?!"

I tense when Kylo unfastens his cloak and folds it in front of him. I freeze in my spot in anticipation of what he's going to do next. He looks at his cloak then looks at me, "you do not understand it now, but you are the key to securing the strength the Sith, securing the Order."

A shiver runs down my spine. How can he say that so plainly?

I cannot comprehend how utterly indoctrinated this ideation is in his being. It is shocking honestly, to see up close and personal that he believes so much in his cause, that he genuinely does not see fault in this, in forcing me to marry him, in taking me by force, in destroying my camp, in laying waste to my people, on wreaking their ill-judgement to the stars.

I shake my head, "do you honestly believe I will eventually come to you with- with open arms?!"

Kylo Ren straightens his posture. I nearly trip when he walks over to me as I attempt to rush back. He raises two fingers and keeps me upright with his Force. He keeps me in place and stands before me. He leans his face close to mine, then barely opens his mouth to speak, "I do."

And then, he releases me and walks away.

I watch him as he exits the room and leaves me. The sound of the door closing is all that's left.

I begin to pant. I begin to heave in anger, in loss, in panic, in desperation. I have to get o-

I slap my hands on my mouth. I screw my eyes shut and shudder.

Silent. I have to be silent.

The next day he asked me to accompany him while he ate.

Breakfast, lunch, and dinner, he said, I should join him, so that we would both grow accustomed to each other's company during such intimate moments, and that we would also get to know each other more.

I scoffed at the idea, so much for not forcing me to do anything I don't want.

"I am not forcing you, wife," Kylo calls across the expanse of the long table.

My eyes that were idly watching my fork swirl the unknown delicacy on my plate dart to him. My shoulders tense as Kylo Ren grabs his glass and drinks from it.

I huff, "do you mind getting out of my head?" I ask though it wasn't really a question, it was a threat, as much of a threat a captive could give.

Kylo sets the object down and taps his finger on it, "if you don't want to join me..." he thinks for a moment, "you don't have to."

I straighten in my seat. I silently look out to him in challenge.

I stiffen when the pitcher begins to float and water is then poured in my cup. I clench my jaw, turning back to Kylo, finding his raised finger.

"I would prefer if you dined with me though," he says, putting the pitched back down.

I turn to my food, idly pushing it around again, "I would prefer if I dined by myself... in my-" our "-room."

I hear him exhale. I hear the contact of his cutlery on his plate, "a disappointing conclusion."

I slowly avert my eyes from my food to him. He is now focused on his own plate. He mumbles, "but I will allow it."

The next day, I am woken to eat breakfast and urged to get out of bed. I explain to servant I was allowed to eat in my room and that I don't want to eat yet. I scoff in disbelief when I am told I am meant to tour the place with the master, with that damned Kylo Ren, and is thus advised to get ready.

And so I did. I got ready and went into the dining room and interrupted his breakfast. If I can't have peace, neither can he.

Kylo turns to me and nods, "wife."

I clench my teeth, "tour me now," I huff, "I'm not hungry, so tour me now."

He turns back to his food and seemingly debates my words for a moment. He then stands from his seat and puts on his helmet, leading me out of the room. If I could burn holes onto his back with my eyes, he'd have been nothing but charcoal.

I suppose I should have given more attention to his tour than I did because knowing the place would surely benefit me when I make my attempt to esc-

"Are you certain you're not hungry?" Kylo Ren asks out of the blue as he leads me down the weapons room, "you're quite snippy and demanding. I would assume that's because you're hungry, baby bird."

I can't help but scoff at his mockery, "or, this is just how I am," I mumble, "so don't act like you know me." I aimlessly look at all the weapons on display, weapons meant to destroy others like me.

But I do know you.

I avert my gaze to him. I stiffen as I glare.

"I have been in your mind and seen the depths of your soul," he mutters, "and I know you're irritable because you're hungry."

And then he conjures up a tin-wrapped object in front of me.

"Here," he gives me the item using his Force, "you can eat this while we walk back to our chambers."

My lips curl in disgust, "is this meant to be enticing?"

He tilts his helmet clad head, "it's meant to be my lunch for later," he grabs the floating object, then my wrist, placing the silver thing on my palm.

I tense in his touch and I am glad he doesn't linger long there. I look at his would-have-been lunch then turn back to him, seeing my scowling reflection on his dumb helmet, "what an honor to know I won't be poisoned since this is apparently yours."

"It is mine," he rebuts rather impatiently.

I roll my eyes and shove it into his chest, "if you want me to be less irritable, let me go back to my chambers." I catch myself when I say this. It sounds like I want to be in that damned cage, instead of outside of this compound. I correct myself, "or better yet, let me go."

Kylo Ren places his lunch in pocket that I didn't know he had, "We will continue this tour tomorrow."

And so we did. This time, he made sure to have someone come to me after I ate.

I must say, perhaps he was partially correct in the fact I was irritable because I was hungry. I did find him more bearable today, as far as forced husbands and captors go. But then again perhaps it was because he was touring me in the biggest library I have ever seen.

I couldn't even feign disinterest as he motioned to each area of the place and explained they were arranged by planet of origin.

I was far too busy craning my neck up to see how high the bookshelves reached that I bump into one. Or at least I thought it was a bookshelf and not fucking Kylo Ren. I jolt when I look at him, firstly because we had a collision, secondly because he magically didn't have his helmet on anymore.

I reel back as he looks down at me, on I think a more figurative sense if anything.

I am immediately uncomfortable under his gaze. I mutter, "sorry."

"You have questions," he mutters. He turns to me and lifts his chin, "ask them."

I evade his stare. Don't tell me what to do.

"I'm not telling you what to do," Kylo Ren retorts after hearing my thought.

I turn back to him. I snort and grumble, "stay out of my head."

He looks up at the shelves and then looks down at me with his eyes, "a hundred layers."

I pull my head back and scoff in disbelief, "the shelves have a hundred layers?" I look over my shoulder haphazardly, "seems unnecessary hard to manage."

"Well," he brings his head down, "it hosts knowledge from peoples across over the stars. It must be capable of securing the vastness."

When I look back at him, I tense when I see he has come far too close to me. It would have been wise to pull away, perhaps to even shove him off to get my point across, but somehow, I find his proximity as a challenge. I grit my teeth and narrow my eyes at him, "undoubtedly stolen, plucked from the rubble of your destruction."

A chill rushes up my spine when he smirks at me. It remains lopsided and smug as he whispers "I don't feel the need to preserve artifacts from a race that is unable to see the glory of my purpose."

That's it. I begin to slowly step away from him.

"Do you want to know how these shelves are managed?"

"No, I really-"

I make a sound when he grabs me and locks me against his chest. Before I can even begin to fight back, I find my feet get lifted off the ground along with him. Next thing I know, I'm gasping and clinging onto him for dear life.

"Put me down," I gasp against his chest as I seal my arm tightly against him.

He chuckles as we continue to float up. He tightens his grip on me as I feel myself begin to slip. He flexes his feet and pushes them beneath mine. I look up at him as I step on his boots.

"This is how you manage them," he iterated, then motioning to his side, "or you use the ladder."

I scoff in disbelief, grabbing onto his collar, "put me down, Kylo."

He blinks at me, lips curing into a bigger smile, "alright."

He slowly bringing me down and I tense when he clutches my waist and speaks out my name.

I look away from him and watch as the floor nears. By the time it was close enough, I jump off him and walk away.

Kylo Ren watches and chuckles, "the exit is the other, baby bird."

I stop in my tracks and glare at him. He does not waste time and walks up to me. My breath hitches when he does, reeling over the look on his face. He moves past me and walks away.

I watch him as he does so, and then an idea strikes me. I debate my chances on living here and convincing the servants to get me food... a bucket-

"Don't be ridiculous. I will throw you over my shoulder if you will not follow," Kylo Ren announces. He stops in his tracks and looks over to me, "you are my empress, not my captive, even though you feel that way."

I watch him as he raises his hand to me, reaching out to me again like on the day of our wedding, except this time, I could see his eyes and is pouty lips. I huff through my nostrils and grip my fists. I walk over to him glaring at him all the way until I move past him.

Kylo watches, a glint in his eye as he does.

I hear him chuckle.

The next day, I woke up, realizing I was allowed to sleep in. That got me tremendously excited, and so I quickly began to ready myself to begin my attempts at an esca-

I slap my hand on my mouth and release a deep breath from my nostrils.

I take a few more moments and ready to exit my chambers.

The moment I'm about to exit though, I am faced with a servant. I tense at the sight of her but offer her a pinched smile, "Rezba."

Rezba nods and walks in with a tray of food, "please eat before you leave. I will be scolded if I am found to failed to feed you."

Dammit, Rezba.

I sigh, turning to my feet. I watch the woman as she walks off and sets the table. She was one of the servants that helped prepare me on my... wedding day, the one that didn't get choked. As for the one that was, I have not seen or heard from her ever since.

My conscience presses on me every time I think of this. I sigh, walking over to her. I sit down on the chair by the table and smile, "thank you, Rezba. You can go now."

Rezba nods, "as you wish, empress."

I wipe my face as he walked away. I quickly stuff my face with the food. I mean, after all, if I manage what I do, I'll need all the food I can get.

The moment I was done, I exit my chambers and head outside with purpose. I nod at the personnel that greet me and make sure to keep my mask of confidence as I make it to the launch pad.

I practically beam when I see a ship ready for the picking. But then I feel a force surge through me.

"Fuck."

My bride.

I turn over my shoulder in horror. Lo behold, the dark mask of my groom, strutting over to me with troops behind him.

"Come to visit me?" he muffles out behind his helmet.

I clench my jaw and turn to him, doing my best not to roll my eyes.

Somehow, I can see his smirk underneath as he speaks, "you didn't even change out of your nightclothes."

I let out a strangled sound as I turn to the two people behind Kylo. One had red hair and one was as clad in uniform as the Supreme Lord.

"This is General Hux and Captain Phasma," Kylo motions to the two of them.

I hum, "yes... hello," I smile without meeting my eyes, "well, now that I've... seen my husband, I'm... I'm going back to my chambers."

The two behind Kylo nod at me. I try not be so annoyed as I walk away.

Next time you plan to escape, you should probably change into something that would protect you from the harshness of space.

I grit my teeth and snap over my shoulder, "GET OUT OF MY HEAD!"

General Hux recoils at my voice. Kylo Ren chuckles under his breath.

The next day, I have no such luck of escaping at all.

"Don't you have some-" I quip over my shoulder as Kylo tails me like the dark shadow he was, "-I don't know... planet to blow up," my voice gets increasingly smaller as I say this and hear myself.

Kylo Ren, in one of the rare occurrences he did not have his helmet on, stops to look at me. He presses his lips together, "do you have a pla-"

"No!" I raise hands, "forget that I said that... please."

I turn away from him and begin to tread deeper into the halls of the library.

I hear him snort behind me, "I don't want you to continue to delude yourself into thinking escaping is an option. It would just be a waste of both our time if you do so."

I roll my eyes and shake my head, "and I don't want to delude you in thinking that I would ever stop trying to escape you."

I actually stop in my tracks when I hear him laugh out loud. I turn over to him in great offence as he then turns to me with bright eyes.

I seethe with venom, "I'm glad one of us finds this funny."

He straightens himself up and crosses his arms, "it's funny how you fail to see how alike we are."

My face drops in horror. I march over to him and point a finger at him, "we are nothing alike!"

I jolt when he grabs my wrist and pushes my hand down. The amusement in his face falters and shifts into something else, "aren't we, my empress?"

My heart begins to pound. I pull away from him and recoil.

My breathing begins to pick up as I rub my wrist.

Kylo watches me and makes up for the space between us by walking forward, "did that hurt you?"

"Does it matter if it did?" I quip.

His face softens yet his brows tighten, "it does."

I scoff.

"I am not the monster you make me out to be."

I scoff again as I continue to walk back, "oh yeah, then what ar-" I gasp when I hit something. I panic and turn, seeing it was the step ladder. I have no choice but to halt as Kylo presses nearer. I swallow the lump on my throat as I look at his face.

I will myself not to be so affected by his presence.

I clench my jaw.

My willpower is not very effective.

"I am your husband," he mutters.

I freeze when he brings his hands to my side, though he does not touch me. His eyes dart to my hands that I clutch to my chest. He releases a breath, "I want to bring order to the galaxy."

A shiver runs down my spine, "Kylo..."

His eyes lock on mine. I even my breathing.

I shake my head and knit my brows, "do you genuinely think," I speak softly with no hint of malice, "that killing billions is order?"

His jaw tightens. He drops his hands to his side, "it is an necessary stake for the greater good-"

"Greater good?!" I quip under my breath, grabbing onto his cheeks. I look at him with wide eyes as he looks at me with a similar shocked expression, "you believe razing through the stars is the greater good?"

My whole body pricks when he takes my wrists in his hands and whispers, "my love."

I suck in a sharp breath.

"You do not understand it now," he explains, shaking his head, "but everything that I am, everything that I do," his voice becomes really quiet, "is for us."

My expression drops where his softens.

"For our future," he whispers, "for our next generation and after."

"Kylo-"

"I do it because I believe in our cause," he cuts me off, "I do it because without us, the galaxy will never know anything but chaos."

My breath begins to strain.

He releases one wrist and reaches out for my face, "I will do all it takes, and give you all the time to understand this."

Mu face burns at the feel of his gloved hand. I shake my head, "why?"

"Because you are my star, my burning destiny," he mutters, "the Force brought you to me. I felt you that day on your home planet, you were so strong, you were so strong and so misguided. I tried to kill you that day, but you got away."

My eyes begin to water. I begin to relive that day in my head.

"Then I dreamt about you, I dreamt about how you escaped me and how I hated that you did. Snoke saw it. He saw you in my head. He saw your drive. He saw your weakness. He saw what you could become. And then, he said I burned because you were meant to be mine. He said our Forces were calling for each other, which was why I could not stop dreaming about you."

I begin to tremble against him.

He clutches my face with both hands, "don't be afraid. It took me a while to understand it as well, but-"

"Kylo-" I shudder, "you don't dream of me because I'm your bride, you dream of me because of him!"

He stills.

"Don't you see?" I pant, "he's manipulating you. The dark side is mani-"

"If anyone has been manipulated, it is you, baby bird," he grunts, "you were indoctrinated with beliefs that are short sighted and weak. I would not-"

He doesn't finish and turns his head to the side when a voice of a stormtrooper buzzes through the hall, "apologies for the interruption, my lord. I was tasked to escort you to the throne room, the Supreme Leader is summoning you."

Kylo Ren turns to face him. I suck in a breath as suddenly, he grabs my hand and pulls me with him as we walk past the stormtrooper, "an escort won't be necessary."

If I wasn't shaking a while ago, I surely was now, and Kylo Ren could feel it. Kylo stole looks over his shoulder. I did nothing but try to even my breath as we tread the hall.

I could feel him holding onto me with his Force, trying to contain me almost... trying to comfort me.

I tense when he releases my hand in lieu of draping his arm over my shoulder, "he will not touch you. He will not harm you," he mutters as I look up at him. He stares straight as we continue walking, "I will make it a point to keep this brief. You have nothing to worry about."

I wanted his words to comfort me, I wanted him to be able to comfort me so badly. And yet when I was face to face with his master, I couldn't even muster the courage to put my faux brave face on. He pulled away from me and pushed me behind him as he greeted the being.

"Why do you continue to disappoint me so, Kylo Ren?" Snoke inquires with a voice of disdain.

This had something to do about me, I am sure of it.

"I am doing everything you asked me," Kylo retorts rather simply.

"And I gave you a bride, yet still you have no efforts for an heir!" he accuses, "must I teach you even in the ways of the flesh, boy?!"

Kylo clenches his fist, he mumbles, "no."

"THEN DO YOUR DUTY!"

"I am making sure everything is perfect for her. She cannot bear me and heir if she is damaged or scared," Kylo retorts.

Snoke tilts his head, "and are you trying to say that has something to do with me?"

"I am SAYING-" Kylo Ren starts, raising his voice as he did. In my shock, I pull back at his cloak, not wanting to feel the wrath of his master. Not now, not ever, especially not in my dreams, not again.

Kylo holds himself back. He huffs, "I will do my duties as her husband. This isn't something for you to meddle with."

"Meddle?" Snoke scoffs but then laughs. He, in fact, laughs so hard, it echoes in the room. He catches his breath then sighs, "Fine." Snoke raises a finger and suddenly, Kylo's boots skid on the floor as he is moved away to reveal me from behind him.

I turn to Snoke, feeling my heart quicken in my ribcage.

Kylo steps back in front of me. I take his arm and hold onto it for dear life.

Snoke stares at his protégé. He tilts his head, "I expect this to change, soon. Her belly should never not be carrying an heir."

Her belly should never not be carrying an heir.

Her belly should never not be carrying an heir.

Her belly should never not be carrying an heir.

"Enough!" Kylo snaps me out of my trance. I turn to him, eyes wide, body trembling. We weren't in the throne room any more, we were in our chambers, soaked in dark retreat of it all. I had no idea when we got here. All I know was I was here with Kylo, who was clutching my face so tightly. He looks at me with something of annoyance, something of concern, "don't think about him anymore, think about me. Just think about me."

I shake my head in sheer disbelief. I push his hands away, "is that supposed to make me feel better?"

Kylo straightens.

"You," I start, "want me here for the same reason he does!"

His expression hardens.

"You and him had plagued me with nightmares for as long as I can remember," I shake my head, "the only reason, I think, I don't have them anymore is because I actually get to live my nightmares out in real life."

"So?" he quips, "what do you mean to say?"

I bite my lip, "just-" I feel my eyes water, "take what you want and... and-"

I hold my breath when Kylo grabs my chin and tilts my head up to look at him. He brings his face close to mine. His nose is barely brushing my own. I feel his hot breath on my face as he enunciates one word, "want."

I blink rapidly at the sound of his voice.

"Shhh," he hushes, "if it's Snoke you worry about, don't. I have been planning something for him, long before you even came to me. He is the least of your worries," he explains. "But do you know what I want, bride?" he asks, as though to taunt me.

I shudder. I think of replying, but I don't.

"I know what you want," he mutters. He begins to move forward, and so I have no choice but to move back as he pushes me in the direction he wants, "you want to run away from me, baby bird. You think you can break free."

His hand only leaves my chin when my calves hit the foot of the bed and I fall back, heart hammering, breath clawing at my throat. He drones, "but what I want?"

Kylo Ren undoes his gloves and undoes his belt as he towers over me.

I want to strangle your light. I want to break you so badly. I want to fucking burn you from the inside until you can only hear yourself screaming from how good it feels to finally have your wet, little c-

I slap my hands to my mouth I hear the thoughts running through his head.

Kylo stills. He tilts his head then chuckles, "so... you heard that?"

I sigh deeply, attempting to even my breath as I back away from him. I squeak when he lunges and traps me beneath him. He crushes me against his chest and pins my wrists by my head. I turn away from him as he whispers hotly against my ear, "it would be so easy to have you like this, right?"

My screw my eyes shut. Tears lace my lashes.

"You won't even fight me off, you couldn't."

I shudder when he releases one of my wrists and brings his free hand down to my thighs. I feel my body burn and tingle at his slow caress.

He kisses my jaw and my skin there is set ablaze, "you don't want to fight me off," he chuckles, "you could at least do something with your hand to save face."

When I finally remember where my free hand is, Kylo takes it back in his and lifts his head, "too late." He pushes himself up, "look at me."

I clench my jaw.

"You'll know never to make me ask for the same thing twice."

I give a shallow huff and open my eyes, looking up at him.

"I want you to beg me," he whispers, "I want you to be so desperate to finally," he begins to further pull away, "finally, take you," he knits his brows, "to make you my wife that you get on your knees and weep for it."

A shiver runs down my spine as I watch him get up from the bed and grab his gloves, "until then," he reaches his hand out and uses his Force to cover me with the sheets, "you belong to yourself."

He haunts me in my dreams that night. Not as a figure of darkness, not as a ghost, but as a man, as starving entity, ready to consume me, eager to take me.

He haunts me every night after. And every night his intentions are made clearer and clearer until I wake up and think he and I wake up and I'm shocked he's not actually there.

It became hard to look at him, especially when my stomach began to flip and my thighs involuntarily pressed together. I was turning sick.

And then one day, the news spreads like wildfire. Snoke is dead, Kylo Ren is the Supreme Leader, and I, his Supreme Empress.

It was weird. I was called Empress before and he was called Emperor before, but now, now it was real. Now I was parading with Kylo Ren in the capital, looking at citizens waving at us and throwing flowers our way. And then I was shaking strangers' hands and Kylo snarled at whomever dared embrace me a second too long.

But what really cemented our reign and the realness of it all, was when someone tried to attack me. Kylo felt the assailant before he got too close though and choked him dead in the middle of the crowd. I watched as the man's weapon fell to the ground, as he withered in pain, as he eventually stopped moving. He suffered. I knew Kylo wanted him to. The festivities were long over after that, and I was then I was reminded of who he truly was.

He was a brute. A beast. The shadow in my mind. He was-

I turn over my left as a blanket is draped over my shoulder. Kylo Ren sits beside me on the bed and offers me glass of water, "I'm sorry you had to see that."

I huff at the sound of his apology. I wrap my blanket tighter on me.

He sighs and brings the glass to the table using his Force, "I would do it again, though. You should know. I would not hesitate even a second."

I curl my legs up into my chest, "am I supposed to be grateful?"

"I would prefer if you were," he mutters.

"Kylo..."

I suck in a breath when he says his name.

"I'm- I'm too tired to argue. I want to go to sleep," I mutter, moving on the bed until I was laid down. Kylo watches me as I do this, then stands.

"Wait," I call out, surprising even myself.

Kylo stills.

No turning back now. "I... I don't want to be alone... not after that... even though you did it."

Kylo waits.

He debates my words.

I hide behind my blanket, "nevermi-"

The next thing I know, I feel him move next to me. And there, he lies.

I feel him next to me. We're under the same blanket. I feel myself begin to grow warm.

"I can get a separate blanket if you're so uncomfortable."

"Get out of my fucking thoughts."

"... ... I don't want to."

I grunt and wrap myself tightly under the blanket, surely yanking however much was on Kylo off.

"Your mind is an oasis to me."

I say nothing.

"My mind is a dessert, you are my oasis."

I huff through the sheets, "don't talk to me like that."

"Like what?"

"Like that!"

"I'm telling you what-"

"I'm done with this conversation."

I close my eyes and tighten my embrace on myself. I release a breath and try to clear my mind.

"Are you that cold?" Kylo murmers

"I'm not cold."

"I know."

"Then why did you ask?" I quip turning to him.

I freeze when I do so, instantly regretting my decision. He was lying on his side, looking at me, his face was right in front of mine and his arms were wrapped around himself. He blinks slowly as he looks at me, "I know you want to be held."

I huff through my slightly agape mouth, then I clench my jaw tightly. I move back from him cautiously, retreating into my covers, into myself.

"I can hold you," he mutters softly.

I turn away from him, feeling my body ignite.

"I want to hold you," he whispers even softer. Let me hold you.

Shut up, get out of my head.

He takes a moment before speaking again. He releases a breath, "am I that terrifying to you, baby bird?"

Yes.

"Then why do you mutter my name while you sleep?"

I tighten my arms around myself. Stop trying to get into my head.

"I'm already in your head," he retorts, voice closer now, "and in your heart."

"Shut up," I whimper.

I hear high-pitched laugh in my head. His voice surrounds me through the Force. It makes my skin raise. I'm only telling you the truth.

"Face me," he mutters, "coward."

I scoff. I heave, feeling my insides curdle. I clench my jaw then hiss, "at least I'm not a killer with no remorse."

He laughs, "you're making it seem like I should have let him attack you."

"You didn't have to kill him!" I snap, turning back to him, pushing myself up on my palms, "you could have given him a prison sentence."

"For what?!" he barks back, unravelling his crossed arms, lifting face up slightly, "so he could plan to attack you again, but next time when I'm not around to defend you?!"

"He only wanted to attack me because I'm married to you!" I hiss, sitting up from my spot.

Kylo sits up too and shakes his head, "he wanted to attack you because he thinks you're my weakness."

"Because I am your weakness!" I quip, "I'm your docile bride!"

He scoffs, grabbing my jaw, "you made yourself into this, little girl," he leans towards me. My pulse quickens as he pushes my head back, hand coming to the side of my face, fingers digging into my hair, "you where the rebel that fought against my troops and managed to escape me. The Force is strong with you," he places his other hand on the other side of my face, "that is why you are my bride."

When Kylo Ren pulls away and lies down, my insides begin to burn, to fume, and rage at his words. I watch him and I slowly begin to see red. And yet, he closes his eyes and acts like this whole conversation didn't happen. He prepares to sleep like there's nothing wrong.

This is my final straw.

I lunge at him. I dart my claws out and growl. I jump on him and press down on his throat. I straddle him and lean all my weight all my strength onto his airways. His eyes shoot open. His hands dart to my wrists. He begins to choke. I put all my anger into my grip. I force against him, knowing full well if I lost the upper hand, I'd be dead.

Except he doesn't make an move beyond clutching my wrists. I wait for him to attempt to overpower me, I wait for him to throw me off him the way I knew he could, and end all of this, and, in turn, kill me instead, but he doesn't.

He doesn't fight back.

Instead he looks up at me as his air leaves him as his face begin to turn maroon, as his veins begin to stress, as his final breaths escape his lips. And then I realize what I was doing and I pull back.

I pull back and heave in horror, wrists breaking free of his hold, hovering by my chest as I looked down at him while he caught his breath. He closes his eyes as his palms land on my thighs. My eyes water, the same way tears laced his lashes.

Why didn't he fight back?

Why isn't he fighting back?

He wanted me to kill him?

He wanted me to kill him?

I watch as his chest rises and falls beneath me. I am then suddenly aware of our position. I feel a tinge burn in my cheeks and my core. It's inexplicable, whether I am embarrassed over the fact I tried to kill him or the fact I was straddling him beneath me.

Before I can get off him though, he finally overpowers me and traps me beneath him. Easily. Swiftly. I was nothing against him. And this fact was amplified as he pins my wrists down on the pillows overhead with just one hand. He presses himself against me, heaving heavily, as if he was doing something with great restraint. It makes my stomach drop.

"That's the difference between you and I," he pants, as his one hand comes up to my neck, "if I wanted you dead, my love..." he begins to press down on my throat.

I begin to panic and thrash beneath him.

Shhhhhh.

He steadies me still in his place. I am overcome by him, unsure if it was just his physical prowess or if he was using his Force as he pushes down on me. I get a semblance of an answer when the pressure on my throat remains and I unable to move my wrists though both his hands go to the sides of my thighs.

I gulp as he leaves hot kisses all over my skin. I huff sharply when I am released of my Force bounds. My hands dart to his torso, gripping at his clothes as I try to push him away.

I would never damage you.

I let out a sound when he releases his chokehold.

Not unless you want me to.

Kylo then begins to bring his face close to mine, pressing our cheeks together for a moment. My stomach rolls and my breath hitches when his hot lips meet my mine. My heart is racing. He undoubtedly could feel it against him.

My panic rises. I quickly manage in between kisses, "Kylo-"

"Beg me," he pulls away and breathes against my ear, "beg me..." he kisses the pulse on my neck, "to get off you-- to leave you alone, to shoot myself into the sun-"

Kylo begins to rub himself between my open legs. Slowly. Roughly. I whimper. He freezes. I feel blood rise up my face. I begin to push him back harder.

He tightens his hold on me, repelling my actions by pressing his weight further onto me, "beg me to finally make you live out your fantasies," his voice loudens, "to make you mine."

I grit my teeth tightly.

"Beg me," he groans, "beg."

I whine, nails digging into his sides as I push against him.

He kisses my jaw, hands leaving my thighs, grabbing my wrists, pushing them down on my sides, "use your words. Hark to me, my baby bird."

My breath hitches, "Kylo, please."

Kylo pulls his face back, nose just above mine, looking down at me with hooded eyes. He waits for me to continue, breath straining as he did. My lips part and my feel my pulse echo in every inch of my body.

I gulp and ready to speak... but I can't. I don't. My mouth goes dry and all I could think about was how his dark locks were framing his face, and how his lips were moving as he heaved arduously, and how I wanted to find where the scar on his face ended.

Then I am ripped out of my incredulous thoughts.

"Please what?" his breath his hot against my face as he coaxes.

I close my lips and catch my breath that was leaving me, "please... stop."

"Stop what, darling?" he utters. I close my eyes when he leans his forehead against mine. He releases my wrists, hands coming to my sides, nails scratching down me until his large hands ended up on my thighs again. I squeak when his hips buck into mine with more intent.

My hands come to Kylo's neck, fingers digging into the roots of his hair.

He shifts atop me, pulling his head back up, weight all on my core, making me moan at the pressure. His nose brushes against mine. He breathes out my name. My eyes shoot open because of it.

I find his eyes are screwed shut, a line between his brows. His jaw clenches. His nostrils flare as he steadies his breathing.

"Kylo-"

"Yes," he speaks before I even finish saying his name.

His eyelids slowly part when I tug his face towards me, legs tightening around his waist, crossing over his back. He lets out a huff that bounces from my face to his. His hands rub down to my butt and there his grip tightens.

Right when our lips brush against each other, he lifts his head ever so slightly and whispers, "beg me to make you mine."

My throat tightens.

"I need to hear it," his voice is soft.

I suck in a breath and call out his name.

He releases a sharp one as he says mine.

I call out his name.

He responds with mine.

I hesitate.

He rubs his nose against mine then says quietly, "make me yours please."

I suck in a breath. My stomach explodes with butterflies. "Make... me yours," I mumble, relaxing against him, hands rubbing down his neck to his shoulders. I close my eyes and sigh, "please."

He nods, "louder."

"Kylo-"

"Louder," he mutters with a tight breath, "one last time."

"Make me yours, please."

Kylo hisses then connects his lips to mine. He moans, amplifying the hungriness of the kiss. His hands are quick and desperate as they grip at my clothing. He pushes off me and begins to strip me of all the hindrances on my being

I whimper as he eagerly does his work. One by one, he rips my clothes off. He does so with such impatience, I hear the tears and the strains of my clothes.

He sits me down as he removes each piece off me until I'm left in my panties. I wrap my arms around my bare chest. Kylo leans in, hands rubbing my bare thighs. My skin pricks because of the contact. He mutters, "your turn, my dear."

He kisses me as he grabs my hands. He pries them off my chest and ends our kiss, placing my palms at the hem of his top. He lifts his hands, eyes not leaving mine, wordlessly urging me to strip him.

I shift on my knees and pull his top off, discarding it along with the rest of my clothing that he threw on the floor. My hands instinctively come to his pants, fiddling the belt on his waist band.

He gets on his knees and grabs my face. He pulls me in for a kiss, moving closer until I'm pressed against the headboard. He guides my hands as they push his pants down.

We keep kissing until he breaks away to strip all together. I don't have time to react cause when he does, he pushes me down using his Force, and brings my legs together as to rid me of the last thing keeping me modest. I screw my eyes shut as he snatches my underwear.

Before I could feel too conscious about being naked in front of the man that was my husband, about to consummate our marriage, I let out a shaky sound as my legs are grabbed and pushed apart.

I suck in a breath as my arms fly again to my chest. They only stay there for a moment. Even that, Kylo pulls apart as he presses against me. He presses my arms down on the pillows by the sides of my head.

I am unable to conceal my cries at the feel of his hot body pressing against mine. I feel his taut stomach press against my core. It drew out another sound I could not keep in. I feel my pulse against him. I feel my wetness smear on his skin. His hands leave my arms to grab onto my thighs.

When I finally dared to open my eyes, I caught the moment Kylo sank his head onto my chest and began to suckle at the skin on my sternum.

I whimper then I bite my lip tightly. Kylo looks up at me as he takes my left breast and nips at it. He begins to rub against me.

I fist his hair into my hands. I press my head back against the pillows. Kylo's hands travel to my hipbones and digs in his fingers into me. He releases my breast and checks on his work, appreciating the mark he left of my skin before continuing to attend to my breast with his mouth.

I tighten my legs around his waist as he continues to grind down on me. I feel my heart racket behind my ribs as Kylo moves to my other breast.

"Kylo," I whimper, as my nails dig into his scalp.

He moans and releases my flesh, whispering hotly against my skin, "yes, my empress?"

I exhale through my open mouth and look at him with a dazed expression. I clutch his cheeks, "I want you-- need you-" I sigh.

Kylo lifts his body slightly, one hand releasing my hip. "To what?" he murmurs, "-need to hear you say it."

His fingers roughly draw a line from my side to my core. I gasp when he touches my aching nub. I lift my head, looking out at his hand as he looks down on me. His two digits dote on the wet heat between my legs. He slowly rubs circles on my flesh, teasing my entrance.

He holds my hips in place as a squirm beneath him. Then his hands hook by the curve of my thigh and pushes one leg up to my chest. He leans in and says, "need to what, my bride?"

I whine as my hands brush down to his shoulders. I claw at him, pulling him closer to me, "need to..." whimper, "to be made yours."

He exhales loudly. He heaves heavily as he sinks two fingers into my sopping core, slowly and firmly rubbing into me, stretching my flesh deliciously. I whine like a wraith.

"You have no idea how long I've imagined touching you like this," he admits as he toys my entrance with his fingers.

"Kylo."

He pulls his hand away and grabs my other thigh, pushing it up by my ribs.

I look at him as he brings his face close and lifts his hips. He digs his fingers into the bend of my knees and my toes curl when I feel him press against me, hard and pulsing.

I lick my lips and break into a whine when he slowly sheathes himself into me, releasing a hot breath by the crown of my head as he did so.

I whimper at the feel of him sinking in all the way. I tighten my legs around him and reach out to the sheets by my sides and rip at them.

Kylo slowly begins to rock into me, groaning as he does so, "so warm, wet and soft," he grabs my hands and places it on his back, "so soft and-" he licks my skin and bites down.

I choke on my breath as he does this. His pace thrusts hasten. He hands grab my knees and push them into my chest, "mine. All mine."

He lifts himself up and ruts into me with vigor.

Soon enough I feel my mind blur while my voice lets out incoherences at the snapping of Kylo's hips.

I claw at his back with little regard for how much it may hurt him.

Kylo howls in response, quickening his pace even more, adjusting his hold on me until his position was perfect and my head was knocking slightly into the board.

"Fill you up with me," he grunts, "fill you until you're a mess, mark you until you're tender, repeat until you're sore."

I don't respond. I don't know what to. I don't have much of a brain to speak anything anyway.

Kylo thrusts into me at such a strong and steady pace, it's not long until I feel a flurry in my stomach and a tingle in my chest.

I whine out his name. I pull him into me. He leans in and huffs against my cheek, "feels good, right? I can make you feel good."

I catch his lips into my teeth. He rip away only to kiss me as he breaks me.

We pull away to breathe yet Kylo does lose his tempo. I feel my eyes water and my mouth dry over my continuous jaw dropped cries.

"Just want to make you feel good," he whispers heavily, "want to make you mine."

"Feel so good," I mindlessly mutter, "so - Kylo."

In that next moment, I feel my insides shatter around him. I let out a loud cry of relief. My fingers curl into his back as I tighten and convulse around him. My toes curl as I lock my legs around him. Instantaneously, I feel a sharp heat splatter into me and it magnifies my delirium.

I hear him curse and whine against my ear. I feel him tighten his hold on me as he continues the work with his hips, still as quick as before.

And as I ride out my high and tighten around him, only then does Kylo's actions find some irregularity. My head no longer hits the board, though my body very much still moves up and down with Kylo's movements.

As the final ripples of my pleasure calm down, so does the knocking of our hips.

When he is satisfied, he releases my hips and grabs my face. He kisses me and catches his breath in between.

"Do you want me to get off you?" he asks.

I quickly shake my head in disagreement and wrap my arms around him.

"Good," he rests his head beside mine and slowly relaxes on top of me. He sighs and brushes his nose against my head, "I want to stay in you forever."

I bite my lip and lean my face into his.

"I will write your name in the stars," he whispers, "I will give you everything in the galaxy. All you have to do is be mine."

I gulp and sigh heavily, yet I internally find myself agreeing.

His hand rubs my side, "I hope you don't get pregnant too quickly," he kisses my head, "there's so much I have to do with you first."

#kylo ren fanfic #kylo au #kylo x y/n #kylo x reader #kylo x you #kylo fanfic #kylo ren #kylo ren fluff #kylo ren x y/n #kylo ren headcanons #kylo ren x reader #kylo ren smut #kylo smut #ben solo #ben solo fanfic #ben solo smut #kylo ren angst #ben solo angst #ben solo x reader #star wars fanfic #star wars fluff #star wars angst #star wars smut

[viridescent-din]

benevolence

you always imagined it your first kiss would be... softer, than it ends up being. but it’s joel. you probably should have known.

smut, 18+. age gap. joel is a grumpy old man who hates himself and reader is down bad.

~

The first time Joel kisses you, it isn’t romantic.

It’s angry - he’s angry. The clicker that just had its hands on you lies motionless a few feet away, mouth frozen in the open position it was in when Joel shot it. Joel is checking you over relentlessly for bites. He’s running his hands over your waist, flashing his light on your neck... fuck, he’s even tugging up the cuffs of your jeans to check your ankles.

“You don’t do that,” he pants, fuming once he knows you’re okay. You’re adrenalized, shaken up and not working off your best judgment. You meet Joel’s eyes.

“Don’t do what? Be on the wrong side of the room? Have the batteries run out of my flashlight? This wasn’t my fault, Joel.” Joel shakes his head, pissed, and he grips the nape of your neck. You didn’t even realize his hand is still there, sturdy and calloused. You bite your cheek. “I didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Shut up,” Joel growls, and it makes you even more upset.

“I didn’t - stop blaming me. Stop making me feel like a dumbass, because I’m trying and I’m tired but I’m still better than half the people in the Q -”

Joel cuts you off before you can keep egging either of you on, his lips connecting with yours in a harsh and almost painful way. Your teeth clash, and Joel kisses you with so much force you almost fall, the only thing saving you being his strong arm wrapping around your back. You open your mouth, probably from shock, and Joel’s tongue does a quick sweep around the cavern when you do. Your hands fly up to Joel’s chest instinctively for balance, and you can feel his racing heartbeat under your palm. It makes you falter. You didn’t realize he was so worried.

You’re just starting to ease into it Joel stops.

His teeth catch your bottom lip as he pulls away, and you both taste blood. Joel steps away, the both of you just staring at each other, panting.

“Do you get it?” He asks, voice gruff. “Don’t fucking do that.”

You blink, years of pining and want pouring over you. You swallow, tasting just a bit of what you think is Joel.

“Yeah,” you tell him. “I get it.”

~

The second time isn’t any more passionate. It’s done to prove a point, just like the first.

You’re leaning against the counter as you drink at the bar, still trying to wrap your head around this actual town Tommy is living in. It feels so real - like the flashes of memory you have of the world before the outbreak. You’re shivering a bit, your hair still wet from the shower you took. The shower with warm water. Joel is back at the house Tommy and Maria gave you to stay in. He insisted you shower first - he wanted to make sure that if there was hot water to use up, it was you who got it. He sent you off to the bar with the promise of meeting you there soon.

You’re drinking a whiskey neat, not because you like the drink, but because it feels warm in your chest and you know Joel will finish it. You’re sipping on it as you talk to a few men that are locals. They’re a bit older than you, but definitely younger than Joel. They seem nice, better than the lecherous creeps you keep managing to find on your journey (infected or not). One of them works in the stables, taking care of the horses. You smile as you listen to him talk about them. You think you can remember a few girls in elementary school who had farms and horses before everything broke down.

A hand slides around your waist as you’re talking, and you have to crane your neck to see Joel appearing next to you. He’s much taller without a backpack: less weighed down. His shoulders are relaxed and broad. You forget how to breathe for a moment, utterly taken by him.

“Hi,” you say softly. Joel doesn’t acknowledge it. You can feel the anger permeating off him, it’s more present than the hand he has that’s now gripping your side. You blink. “Joel.”

Joel looks down at you, his eyes flickering back and forth between you and the men. He brings his free hand up to your face, cupping your jaw. This time you know, you aren’t surprised when his lips meet yours.

You’re pissed at Joel - you’re furious that he’s doing this again, touching you without any indication for months that it’s something he wants. You know Joel feels for you, but when he only confirms it so damn scarcely, it’s easy for you to doubt. You try to steel yourself, only let him in so deep, but Joel is already with you, whether he’s touching you or not. The two of you are permanently connected, just like anyone else who’s ever survived together. Despite your best efforts, you melt into him, holding onto the lapels of the jacket Joel told you he got from trading with Bill.

By the time you pull away, your potential friends are already muttering among themselves, making up excuses to leave. They exit, giving you and Joel the entirety of the counter. You shake your head, turning so you aren’t facing Joel. You give it a few minutes, then walk out in the direction of the house. You’ve barely made it out the door of the bar when Joel pulls you into the little alley next to it.

“Joel, stop. It’s snowing. I didn’t bring a coat.” Joel pulls his off, wrapping it around you. You scoff, but don’t turn it down. “Joel -”

“Didn’t want them getting the wrong idea.” He interrupts you. You stare at Joel, incredulous.

“And what wrong idea is that, Joel?” You ask, then don’t let him answer. “They were nice. Just welcoming one of the new strangers to town.”

“They weren’t just being nice.”

“Yes, Joel, they were. Have you already forgotten about that ambush that happened when we got here? This place isn’t about to let in any assholes. Not the type you’re accusing those guys of being, at least.” Joel sets his jaw, taking a step towards you. You back up as he approaches until you hit the wall of the bar. You let out a breathe, one you can see. It’s fucking cold. You don’t know how Joel isn’t shivering, his freshly showered wet hair glistening in the light of the few street lamps.

“They needed to know,” Joel says. He’s so close to you. You smell the shampoo and soap that Maria has given him, but underneath that, he’s still Joel. Musky and experienced. Territorial. You can’t help being mad at him, but you’re terrible at committing to it.

“They need to know what?” Joel doesn’t answer. He places his hands on either side of you, caging you in. He won’t look at you. You raise your arms, placing your hands on Joel’s. You slip your thumbs under the long sleeves on his shirt, rubbing at Joel’s lifeline. His lips part as he exhales. “Joel, nobody can know about this when you won’t even say anything about it to me.”

You expect Joel to fight, maybe chastise you, but he doesn’t. He slumps against you, head buried in your chest and arms wrapping around your torso in a crushing bear hug. You blink, caught off guard, but you recover quickly, throwing one hand around Joel’s shoulders and bringing the other to massage the nape of his neck. You can feel the fight leaving Joel, just for a moment. You wonder what’s softening him: the shower, the almost normal town, finding Tommy.

You.

Joel doesn’t do this. You don’t know anything about his life before the outbreak, but you know he hasn’t loved many people. He’s approaching this in all the wrong ways, but he doesn’t know any better. He has to re learn, and you have to learn for the first time.

All Joel needs right now is a little reassurance.

“Joel. Joel. Baby,” you whisper in his ear, pressing your lips to his temple. “They didn’t want anything from me. And it wouldn’t matter if they did. They’re nothing.” Joel’s fingers dig into your ribs, and you can tell you’re going to bruise. You don’t care. “They’re nothing. I don’t care about them. I don’t care about anyone here.”

You close your eyes, burying your nose in the side of Joel’s neck and inhaling. You let Joel surround you, take up all your senses. You posture up, taking Joel with you. You take his face in your hands, your lips brushing over his forehead, cheeks, nose. You kiss the patches in his beard where the hair doesn’t grow, and his eyelids when his eyes drift shut. You’re overcome with affection, the feelings you push down every time you see Joel forcing themselves up. You almost want to cry. “Joel, you’re so handsome.” Joel tenses, praise unfamiliar to him, but you watch as he forces himself not to reject it. His fingers find the loops of your jeans, pulling you flush against him so there isn’t any part of you that isn’t touching. You let him. You ask for it.

“They’re not you,” you promise him. “Nobody here will ever be you.”

~

The night at the bar doesn’t magically fix everything. But it does make it harder for you and Joel to let go of each other - metaphorically and literally - so you start to sleep with him. Every night, Joel tucks you under his arm, letting you use his steady heartbeat to fall asleep to. Every morning, you wake up with the positions reversed, cradling Joel’s head to your chest.

The first time Joel has a nightmare, you think someone (something) has broken in.

You wake up to Joel thrashing, drenching the covers in a cold sweat. You grab his shoulders and shake, putting any worries about hurting Joel aside.

“Joel,” you say, your voice shaking but firm. “Wake up. Wake up,” Joel sits up, his eyes flying open. He blinks, gathering his bearings and realizing he’s safe. You pant, reaching out to put a hand on his arm. Joel flinches, so you draw it away. “Sorry,” you apologize. Joel turns, looking at you like he didn’t realize you were there. He says your name, sounding broken.

“You’re -” he says, then pauses, trying to figure what he’s trying to say. “You’re here.” You stare at him.

“Yeah, Joel.” You say. “I’m here. I’m with you.” Joel reaches for you, tugging you close and then pressing you against the sheets. He grunts, like he’s trying to make sense of everything.

“Can I - Will you let me -” Joel searches for the words, but can’t come up with them. You just nod.

“Yes,” you tell him. “You can do whatever you need. I trust you.” Joel freezes above you, almost glaring. His hands begin to toy with the hem of your shirt, and your heart begins to pound against your rib cage.

Joel slowly pulls your shirt up, dragging his mouth over every inch of skin he reveals. His chapped lips explore every curve and softness of your belly, and when you raise your arms so he can rid you of the article of clothing completely, he does the same to your breasts. It doesn’t even feel sexual, Joel isn’t licking or biting. He’s just feeling, touching. You feel dizzy, arousal pooling between your legs. You grip the sheets between your fingers.

“I’m only good for you in here,” Joel says against your skin. It sends vibrations throughout your body, you feel his voice everywhere. You shake, but you’re not cold. He sits back on his knees to look at you, so you prop yourself up on your elbows. You blink.

“I don’t know what you mean,” you admit. Joel shakes his head.

“I’m good for you here,” he gestures to the room. “And here,” he jabs a finger to his chest, over his heart, then mirrors the action on you. It kind of hurts, but you don’t show it. “But out there? I’m not a good man,” you open your mouth to protest, but Joel shuts you down with just one look. You stay silent. “I’ve done... I’ve done some bad things. Bad enough I don’t think Tommy really wanted to see me again.” Joel shakes his head. “And I - I would do those things for you. I even want to sometimes.” Your eyes widen, and Joel sees it. He sours. “Bein’ good for you means that I’m bad for everyone else. Do you get what I’m tellin’ you?” Joel’s drawl comes out as he gets more emotional. “You need to know that. And if we’re gonna keep doing this, you need to accept it too. It might not be fair. I don’t know if it is. But this is the way things are. You understand me?”

You stare at Joel, watching him bare himself to you in a way you don’t think he’s done for anyone else in a long, long, time. You suck in a shaky breath, and swallow.

“I understand you.” You pull Joel over you, looking up at him. “I still trust you.” You tell him.

Joel lets his head drop, not letting you see him. He works his way down your chest, from your collarbone to navel until he reaches the button of your jeans. Glancing at you to tell him to stop, he strips you of the pants when you don’t. You watch as he looks at you, staring at your most intimate area, and then presses his face to the inside of your thigh. He strokes your calf.

“You don’t what you’re gettin’ yourself into.” He murmurs, almost absentmindedly.

“Yes I do,” you protest. “I’ve been with you for years, Joel. I know you as much as you’ve let me. Let me know more. Let me decide for myself.”Joel holds your gaze. You pant, throbbing. “Let me give something to you. If you don’t think I know you, or us, that’s fine. It makes me sad, but it’s fine.” Joel presses an open mouthed kiss to the meat of your thigh, and you whimper. “I know myself, though, Joel. I know what I want. It’s you. I promise. I’m trusting you, Joel. Can’t you just trust me too?”

Joel looks at you in awe, and then gives you an affectionate frown. He doesn’t say ‘okay’ or anything like that. Instead, he just ducks his head, thrusting his tongue into your sex like a starved man, and holds you down as you keen and shake.

~

Joel used to refuse to give you any sort of heightened affection, any type of intimacy. He’s getting better at that. Joel strokes your cheek when you wake up in the morning, offers you bland but hearty oatmeal when he notices you haven’t eaten. He drops to his knees the second he sees that your shoe’s come untied.

He doesn’t like it when you try to do the same. Joel’s self-hatred is so deep seated he thinks the very act of you loving him is equivalent to any act of service. When you finally convince him to let do something for him - helping him undress, washing his hair, taking his cock down your throat - you have to promise him you want it too. Only once it’s happening will Joel let himself take. He’ll stay in the shower for hours, fuck your mouth until you can’t speak.

Joel is greedy when he lets himself be. That’s why it hurts so much that he won’t have sex with you.

“It’ll change things, baby.” He tells you, trying to ease the blow. You just don’t get it.

“We’ve already changed them.” You respond, looking away. “I don’t... I don’t want to pressure you, Joel. Just tell me if that’s not what you want.”

“Hey,” Joel grips your jaw, forcing your eyes to meet his. “That’s not it. Don’t you think that.” You swallow, but nod, accepting Joel’s words. He releases you, then begins petting your side. It’s spring now. Joel looks good under the morning light from the window. “You’re sweet. You couldn’t pressure me into anything.”

He’s right. Joel is his own man. His days of being easily influenced are long gone.

~

You learn to live with it, this tiny piece of rejection. You accept that there’s something about sex that’s too much for Joel. It’s strange, because it almost hurts more than it did before you and Joel got closer. Like you’re close enough to grab what you want, but can’t quite. It’s okay, though. You want him enough to accept whatever he’ll give you, and parts of Joel is better than none of him.

You wonder if the two of you have settled. You’ve been in Jackson for six months - but it feels like years. For the first time since you can remember, you’re living instead of surviving. It’s exhilarating. You and Joel are both showing signs of domesticity: the callouses on your hands have almost entirely disappeared, and Joel’s face has gotten a bit rounder. A couple extra pounds looks good on Joel. You like knowing he isn’t running himself to the bone.

With all this extra time, Joel has started taking you out of the town so you can perfect your shooting. He sets up targets, adjusts your grip, and watches you for what seems like hours. You’re getting better, but the process is painstaking. Everyone back in the QZ knew you were much more adept with a knife.

“Knife ain’t good for infected. You have to get too close.” Joel tells you, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. His hand snakes around your hip, pulling your knife from your front pocket. He tosses it to the side. “Now you don’t have a knife. Just the gun.” Joel points over your shoulder and at the target. “Shoot.”

You hit the target five times in the row.

You squeal in excitement, jumping up and down and dropping the gun. You turn around and practically jump into Joel’s arms. You’re grinning, and Joel is almost smiling, which for him is a huge victory. He cups your face, thumb stroking your cheekbone before he kisses you.

You’re still smiling into Joel’s mouth, and he’s swallowing your moans as one of his hands drops from your face to your chest. He finds the hardened bud of your nipple even over the material of your shirt - you never wear bras anymore, you haven’t felt the need since coming to Jackson - and he pinches. You whimper, pleasure shooting through your veins. Joel is hard, you can see the tent in your pants, feel it against your belly. When he breaks the kisses, Joel keeps himself pressed to you.

“I need this too, baby. I need it too.” You can hear the fight in Joel’s voice, the inner turmoil. You try to say okay, but can’t find the words.

~

Joel picks you up, throws you onto your shared bed. He’s being reckless - he literally tossed the gun on the couch in the living room. It’s not loaded, but still.

Joel stands back, breathing slightly erratic, and stares at you. He eyes you hungrily, like a starving man.

He’s about to indulge.

Joel pulls his shirt over his head, and you do the same, shimmying out of your jeans. You freeze when when Joel takes off the last item of his clothes, staring. You swallow.

Joel is beautiful.

You push yourself up, crawling to the edge of the bed. You place your hands on Joel’s sides, looking up to meet his eyes. He gives you an affectionate frown, stroking your cheek. He’s so broad. You press your lips to Joel’s collarbone, then cover him in your kisses. You kiss his neck, shoulders, chest, belly. Joel groans, his hand tangling in your hair. His cock is hard against his stomach, and you give the head a quick lick, cupping his balls. Joel’s eyes fly open, and before you even know what’s happening, he’s pressed you flat against the sheets, pinning your arms above your head.

“Don’t,” Joel warns you. “It’s been too long. And you’re -” Joel cuts himself, dragging his tongue over your throat to catch a bead of sweat. He presses his length against your hip, and you gasp. “You touch me like that again and I’ll cum.”

“Joel,” you whisper, but he just shakes his head. He holds his palm out in front of your face.

“Spit,” he commands. “You’re gonna want to make it easier on yourself, darlin.’” You take a breath, your chest brushing Joel’s. You squeeze your legs together, searching for any type of friction. Your face burns. “C’mon,” Joel says, softer this time. “I’ve seen you sweatin’ with blood caked in your hair. I’ve seen at your worst. Right now I’m seein’ you at your best.” A small smile manages to crinkle the edges of Joel’s eyes. “Nothing to be embarrassed about here.”

You blink up at Joel, and realize you feel exactly the way you always do around him: safe. Free, supported. You don’t have to worry about anything, not looking pretty or being good enough. It’s Joel.

You’re with Joel.

You spit in his hand, then watch as he strokes his cock with it. He spreads the beads of pre cum on his head down the shaft too, and then runs himself through your folds. You keen instantly, the feeling unlike anything (anything) you’ve ever felt. When Joel’s head brushes your clit, you feel like you’re dying.  He lines himself up, teasing your entrance, and when Joel slides in, he keeps a careful watch of your face for any signs of pain. He takes care of you.

Joel stays still to let you adjust, and you feel him everywhere. Your body, your brain, your heart. Joel is all encompassing. He’s inescapable.

When you give Joel a small nod, he starts to move. He thrusts in an out, setting a steady pace. You grip the muscle of his arms, arching your back to get him deeper.

“That’s it,” Joel tells you. “Good job,” you clench around him at the praise, and you think you hear Joel let out a chuckle. He keeps working you open, each thrust a bit deeper until he’s buried to the hilt. You and Joel stop, both feeling. He lets out a breath, drops his face in your shoulder. Joel pulls out, then enters you again, burying himself once more. “I missed you,” he says into your skin.

For a moment, you don’t know what Joel’s talking about. You’ve been traveling with him for years, and since living in Jackson, you’ve hardly left his side.

Then you realize this is Joel’s way of telling you you’re familiar, and part of him.

You wrap one of your arms around Joel’s shoulders, link your ankles behind his hips. You pull Joel impossibly close, so close he has to abandon his idea of rubbing his thumb over your clit. He does the same to your nipple instead, pinching and pulling and driving you closer and closer to the edge. You feel sensation building in your stomach, the edges of your vision blurring.

“Joel,” you gasp. “Joel, I think.. I think I’m close.” Joel shushes you, brushing baby hairs off your forehead.

“It’s alright baby, let it go. Let me make you feel good.” He tells you. All it takes is a few more sweet nothings before your shuddering against him, riding out your high. Joel’s eyes roll to the back of his head as you clench him impossibly tight. He curses. Without a word, Joel pulls out before he can climax inside you, spurting on both of your stomachs. He collapses next you, his hand finding yours and squeezing it.

“I’m sorry it took so long,” Joel murmurs, dragging  his lips across your knuckles. You can feel his cum begin to dry on your stomach. You hum.

“Worth it,” you manage to whisper back. “You’re worth it, Joel.”

Joel turns his head, meeting your eyes, taking in all of your sincerity. For know, he doesn’t know what to do with it. But he’ll learn.

He’ll re learn. All of this - these ideas of love and mutual partnership - he’ll make it familiar again. All so he can stay close.

#joel miller #joel miller imagine #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #the last of us #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us imagine

[futureplayboibunnie]

Aphrodesiacs Pt. 7

Miguel O’Hara x fem! spidey! reader

You and Miguel O’Hara were bitten by the same spider…what could possibly happen?

i bust my ass for this one. nuff said.

NSFW as always 18+

“Ay, por dios.” Miguel whispered under a strained whine of a breath.

Why? Why did he give in and go to a place he had no business going to? Every slip of the mind, every slip of the tongue, small-minded, aware decision led up to such a thing. He couldn't remember the last time he was ever this stupid that didn't have disastrous consequences. Miguel was a smart man but he wasn't thinking with his head, he was thinking with his dick, which was hardening with every second he spent in this small bathroom with you. It felt like the pale tiles on the walls were thickening by the minute, making it even more impossibly stuffy. Miguel hooked a finger in the collar of his compression shirt, the humidity of each other's company getting worse.

You on the other hand couldn't believe he would even show his face here. You thought that maybe if you were lucky, you'd find someone else to satiate your desires that were never really satiated. Every moment you spent attempting to pry open the door, the more you weren't sure you were handling this. You thought you could. Well, you thought .you could try and keep it to yourself at least, not letting an entirely lewd comment slip from your salivating tongue except for that off-the-record phone call. Maybe at least telling him would alleviate a light fraction of this. Your mouth was full of things you wanted to say, you were sure you were about to burst- so you groaned out instead, the resistance the door providing wasn't helping. Your fist indented into the metal handle, and you realized your strength doubled tenfold while he was in the room. You leaned back on the door and closed your eyes, slumping into the wood. Miguel was pacing before finally gripping his hands onto the sink and hanging his head down, occasionally stealing glances into his reflection. He looked pissed. He was pissed.

He couldn't be anything other than pissed and aroused when you were here, looking delicious in that tiny little bikini. He'd rip it off with his teeth if he had to.

“This is all your fault.”He snapped his unkind gaze back at you, his eyes beaming a deplorable void of blood red. His fangs ripped out of his gums as he stood up straight.

“Oh really?” You crossed your arms, scowling up at his sour expression. “Your 'higher authority' is really pissing me the fuck off right now. What are you doing exactly that's helping the situation?” You pointed an accusing finger at him, unable to control your bare feet inching forward.

“Who was the one that instigated all of this?” Miguel glared at you like you just caused nuclear annihilation.

His lips were split into an unreadable frown, his skin radiated heat and searing hot anger that you were desperate enough to let make your knees buckle and turn limp. It was obvious by the way your eyes widened and the way your lips parted. You paused for a minute to stare at him and it honestly felt like hours, like you could look at him for hours. The tension got thicker and thicker, your eyebrows tensed as your face formed into a desperate wince- whining out. You buried your head in your hands and sighed, rubbing the skin of your face in an attempt to try and compose yourself.

It wasn't working.

You peered back and him and the way he was leaning on the sink with those massive arms crossed, looking down at you with an equally desperate and vacant face he was attempting to conceal made you lean your head back on the door and bite your lip. Miguel was staring at your lips, he wanted to bite them and draw blood as you drooled.

He swallowed thickly. Miguel sighed and raked an impatient hand in his hair to try and stop ogling at you, but it was impossible.

His eyes were designed to stare at you only

His lips to be on yours only.

His hands to feel your skin only.

His cock to be in your pussy.

Only.

“I said don't look at me like that.” He demanded huskily, his eyes dilating beyond comprehension as your mere frame clouded his brain into a hazy yet wild sex-driven lust. Your nipples hardened under the thin fabric, he glanced at them and he wanted to roll his eyes back into his skull. You flashed him a teasing look, unable to control yourself.

“I'm sorry I never listen or do what I'm told.” You gave him a mischievous smirk, not feeling sympathetic in the slightest, sincerity was not evident. You were toying with him and Miguel an itching hungry slice of him was dying to play. “I expect all your women just...do what they're told. Sitting at the foot of your bed like a kicked animal, begging for a good fucking.” You chuckled lowly as you said the words, enjoying the fact that Miguel was starting to play along too, scoffing and smirking at you like you were stupid. His feet were mindless, inching closer and closer to you without even realizing it. Spellbound by your scent, he was wrapped in your game, your mesmerizing fantasy. How many rounds before he realized how near he was to eternal glory, heaven incarnate before reminding the safest place he could be was the void? God, he wanted your heaven though, to lose himself in you.

“What about yours? Your men.” Miguel retaliated but without the force, he usually would, this time he was curious, his voice was low and filled with traces of disdain.

“My men?” You flicked your tongue on your back teeth before presenting him with a faux pout. “Awh my men…”

Your confidence simmered a little when your eyes caught onto the fact he was so close, looming. He put his palms on either side of your head, trapping you and in turn trapping you in this little dance of death that never ended. Eyes widening a twinge, you could clearly see your glinting reflection in the black pits of his iris, his gaze was ravenous, eating you and fucking you with just that. You met him with a half-lidded expression, smiling lazily as his breath was fanning your skin. The way he was this close to you had to be illegal.

“The ones that mediocrely please you, thinking they did something but in reality you were desperate for me...whimpering my name in their ear, making them insecure and questioning who I am...hm?” Miguel smiled crookedly, presenting you with those pearly white fangs as he saw through your side pieces. You were about to start salivating, you wanted to stick your tongue out and lick them for him.

“You think too much of yourself.”

“Oh really? Don't let your ego lie to you.” Miguel chuckled, drinking in every moment of this little interrogation like a thirsting animal, he could do this forever.

“Did they suck your cock in your office, under your desk? How many pitiful blowjobs did you endure? Avoiding me really is shit, huh?” You were mocking him, brows tensing and ensuring he was about to sever a nerve. His nose flared as he breathed deeply, you were enjoying mixing his brain up with every single emotion anyone could ever experience. Miguel felt a chain break inside of him, one of his hands left the door and squeezed your cheeks, turning your head from side to side a fraction as if he was examining you, a whimper left your lips at the contact. He was properly touching you with his cold, apathetic hands. It felt like pure bliss combined with inexplicable torture.

“Such a dirty mouth for someone with such sweet lips.” He cooed, eyes transfixed on such a divine beauty. Your confidence was shattering in his palm, a helpless look swiped across your face and his fingers clutched onto your skin tighter- he felt the blush pierce his fingertips. 'Tell me…” He gritted through trapped teeth “Does it physically hurt when you think about me? How bad you want me.”

Miguel's face was unkind and exceptionally determined, darkened and ashen about all the things he's had to endure when he just merely thought about you.

“You want me to be honest?” You reaffirmed softly, flitting probe on his lips, biting your own to conceal a broken moan that would fall away at any unexpected moment. Miguel sighed raggedly and leaned into yourear, your scent surrounded him and he was hard as a rock. It was his favorite. So sweet. Euphoric.

“Yes.” His hot breath tickled your ear and made the small hairs on your neck stand up. You hummed in agreement, he leaned back and his hungry ogling landed back on your face.

“But I thought we were avoiding each other.” You quipped with that flirtatious smirk that could send any man up to the clouds searching for a paradise that they can't have.

“I don't care. You're mine. Only mine.” Miguel was washed over by a venomous possessiveness, his jealousy knew no bounds when it came to you. It didn't matter if you were on the other side of the world or in front of him, it didn't matter if you were actually together or not, you both wanted each other. You were his. His property. The toy that he could never play with.

“That's a little unfair don't you think?” You pouted again. “You avoiding me makes me mad when you know how much we're both unraveling. You could've cum on my face weeks ago but no, you wanted to stick to your moral code. That seems to be more important to you. ”

“Every time you look at me, I contemplateit.”

“Even now?” You took his hand in yours and placed a taloned finger in between the string that held your bikini at the front, you swiped it down and the string snapped with an unbridled ease. Miguel was following alone with your ministrations like a confused and lost puppy, his face switching between confused, aroused, and amused.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

Your tits fell free, nipples hardened and perky under his electricity glare. He was turning into a bloodhound as he saw what he had been fantasizing about in real-time. He swallowed thickly as he witnessed your chest rise and fall, completely hazy and blissed out. Very pleased with yourself. Very pleased. Miguel was enclosed in a state of hunger and itching pain. The more he told himself he wasn't able to do something, the more he wanted to do it, to prove it wrong. It was the hegemonic masculinity rearing its ugly head as always but he just couldn't help it- it was in his DNA. Miguel was a broken man, aching for release from the beautiful torment that your presence constantly provided, that your presence constantly reminded. You had finally done him in, finally made him crack. Tiny beads of sweat dot his forehead, it could be mistaken for dew drops that your soft lips could kiss off, maybe if this were photo season- but alas this was real life and it's been a real fight just to keep his mind from committing treason. But you were here, standing in front of him, you without even uttering the words. Miguel was battling demons, he didn't know how to deal with someone else’s. That's why he never let anyone get too close- except you. Now you were here, begging him to kiss you without even saying it.

“Now...my turn. Tell me...every single thing you've ever wanted to do to me.” You breathed, eyes glinting with a warm and inviting hue, bright and dim all at once, radiating sincerity. You leaned in slightly and poked your tongue out and licked one of his fangs slowly. It felt like his heart was being strangled and his dick was about to break. His blood was roaring. Any remaining shred of consciousness he possessed had disappeared the moment you did that.

Miguel didn't wait anymore, his breath hitched when he grabbed your face harshly and kissed you. His lips seeking to find yours, to taste the forbidden fruit that he longed for, that he tried so long to resist. But his resistance was futile, he wanted to be good but he knew deep down he wasn't. He wasn't a good man, no matter how hard he wanted to convince the world and himself he was, especially his society. Your body stilled and felt like it was about to evaporate due to the sheer heat that was pent up inside your body- now it had a semblance of gratifying release. His kiss was fiery and passionate, angry and desperate as he shoved his tongue in your mouth to taste the wet sweetness he was made to taste. Your lips reciprocated his actions eagerly, grabbing him by the collar and pulling him so close. You moaned into his mouth, eyes screwing shut as his tongue massaged against yours, diving into the back of your throat. A low rumble reverberated in his chest as you let out that pretty sound. The way you were reacting resembled that of a horny virgin that had never been touched. Any other man didn't matter because you weren't touched by him. The thought made him lose it.

Miguel grabbed your hips and held you up, allowing you to wrap your legs around your waist. His hands and fingers gripping onto your smooth skin, talons pinching. He grunted as he hurridly and unkindly sat you on the sink, standing between your thighs. Miguel's hands were rough and calloused, he buried his hands in your hair and pulled hard, your lips biting against his before he kissed the shell of your ear.

“You wanna know? Fine, I'll tell you.” He gritted out through clenched teeth, his jaw grinding together, if he applied more pressure, sparks would fly from his teeth. “You have no idea what I've been through. You think you do but you don't. I have denied everything. Every need, every desire, every urge and impulse I have ever had for you.”He breathed raggedly in your ear, his talons scraping your scalp. “I can't eat. I can't sleep, I can't control myself because of you. Control was the only thing I had left. I should give a shit about losing it but I don't. I can't. You're mine. Only mine. Got it? Any other guy even thinks about looking at you I'll put a bullet between their eyes.” His strained husky whispered taunts made your whole body shudder. You lolled your head back as he kissed and bit down your neck.

This honestly felt like a special event. Like a christening of sorts. Well, christening wasn't really the right word to use considering how filthy you both were.

“Oh, is that right.”

“My property.” He groaned raggedly. The way that word settled on his tongue made you melt, it was like he was made to say that to you.

“Your property? Even though you aren't actually mine and I'm not actually yours?”

The words slipped from your tongue, sending a sour note splattering through you. Why did you even say that? It didn't matter. Well, it didn't matter for now. Maybe it will soon. Miguel was a little stunned by it and he didn't want to think about it either, his stomach flipped and fluttered but he didn't even let a second pass before he suppressed the feeling

“No one else will see me this way. Only you.” He hoped that was enough.

You unhinged your trembling jaw to say something but then you heard a loud bang. You and Miguel both stopped in your tracks and turned your head like antelopes after grazing. You yelped at what you saw at the doorway. It was Peter and he finally got the door open. Miguel's face dropped to an anxious frown, embarrassment radiating off of him at Peter walking in on a scene like this. You immediately crossed your arms and contorted your body away so that he couldn't see the fact that you were topless. “Peter, what the fuck?!” Miguel bellowed.

“Jesus H. Christ.” Peter covered his eyes with his palm, slightly flustered at what he had just witnessed. “What the hell? I thought you guys would've been done by now. I locked the door like half an hour ago! That's more than enough time for you both to finally have the balls to fuck each other.”Alarm bells started ringing in both of your heads, he was the one that purposefully locked the door. What the hell was he thinking? He didn't understand how dangerous it was. Peter walked away as if he didn't see anything, leaving you and Miguel alone together in silence.

Miguel suddenly snapped back into reality, letting go of this mindless fantasy that tethered him to the danger he tried so hard not to give into. His face fell into a frown. What the hell was he thinking? He couldn't do. this. He couldn't have you no matter how much he wanted to. Miguel's mind was running rampant with so many possible scenarios that he may face if he gave in. He gave up too much to stop now. He needed to take into account his society, and his life's work. His mood darkened at the thought. He raked his hands through his hair, before giving you a vacant look, turning back to the normal snippy and angry Miguel everyone knows. It was like a switch was flipped inside of him- he turned back to cold and untrustworthy, looking at you like he didn't even know you.

You raised an eyebrow at his confusing change in demeanor. He shook his head and breathed out as if he was trying to shake the thought of you away from him. He needed to be smart about this, methodical. He couldn't leave you topless like this, your bikini was snapped in half and he most definitely didn't want any other guy ogling at you practically naked. He averted his gaze to show some form of respect and took off his compression shirt and handed it to you to wear and cover yourself up with. You just glared at him, scoffing at his confused actions. Miguel still didn't look at you when you shimmied it on and then as if by magic, he was drawn to stare at you again- in his shirt, ten sizes too big. For a second, Miguel eyed you like a lovesick fool.

Then, as usual, cold. He winced and then left you. Walking out of the bathroom, not even looking twice at you.

-

I DID IT AGAIN IM SORRY. (but if i tell you i have a suprise for you next chapter will u not hate me)

-

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#spiderman 2099 #miguel ohara #miguel o’hara angst #miguel o’hara smut #atsv miguel #miguel o’hara #miguel o’hara fluff #miguel o’hara x reader #across the spiderverse #miguel o'hara

[gloomwitchwrites]

hi!!! i literally started reading your blog and FR YOU HAVE TALENT. Got me giggling and kicking my feet cus of that girl dad!tf141 fics.

I was reading one of the links you put in for prompt ideas and I read that one six words sentence from link five: "I can't risk losing you again." hello?? potential angst to fluff?? I couldn't get it off my head and i was wondering if you could write something from it :>

Thank you so much! That's so sweet of you! I'm so glad you enjoyed reading the Just Like Dad stories. I had a lot of fun writing them.

"I can't risk losing you again" is such an open-ended prompt. There is a lot you can do with that. I hope my humble offering is enough. I certainly went more angst than fluff on this one, but I really do love sad things with twinges of hope thrown in.

Content & Warnings (per the warnings MDNI): canon-typical swearing, mild blood, non-graphic mentions of violence, angst, fluff, pregnancy, mentions of pregnancy complications

Simon "Ghost" Riley: An enemy of Simon's harms you, forcing Simon to make a tough decision. (wc: 315) Kyle "Gaz" Garrick: Kyle decides there is only one way to keep you close. (wc: 323) John Price: Price worries after you tell him you're pregnant when the first pregnancy had complications. (wc: 329) John "Soap" MacTavish: Johnny learns that falling in love with a teammate can only lead to sorrow. (wc: 542)

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // imagines & what if series masterlist

Simon "Ghost" Riley

Busted door. Shattered glass. Overturned table.

The lights aren’t working and rain enters through the open patio door. You are safe and whole and far from this. But is it enough? Will Simon be able to keep you safe?

What was once doubt is now cold truth.

It’s not your trashed home but the state Simon found you in. It was your heavy-lidded eyes and bruised face. It was the pools of red that Simon didn’t know belonged to you, the dead man facedown in the carpet, or both. It was your smile of relief when you realized it was Simon drawing you into his arms.

Simon knows the man who did this—no. He knows who fucking ordered it.

And when he finds Makarov, he’ll show that fucker just how trigger-hungry he can be. The lead will burst and fuse to his lungs, and Simon will bathe in the aftermath.

All that’s left is your safety. If Simon knew that his career would lead to this, he would have taken steps to protect you years ago. You are always his one bright spot, that candle in the dark that is his life.

With you, he became more than his trauma. More than his guilt. More than his past. With you, he found peace. He found happiness. You are the sugary candy that sticks in the teeth but is too addictive to give up.

Departing is agony. The return is his reward and his longing.

You are everything.

And that is why he let you go.

Why he said, “I can’t risk losing you again.”

He put his head in your lap, his fingers digging into the sides of your thighs and failed to push down the tears.

Laswell will take you far away. She will keep you somewhere safe.

Makarov won’t find you.

And maybe—perhaps in the future—Simon can return to you.

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

Kyle is a nervous wreck.

The tiny box sits heavy in his pocket, burning an invisible hole. His plan is not the most romantic, but the two of you aren’t the type to go big. It’s all subtle, and Kyle only wants this moment to include the two of you.

This is his last chance.

Kyle’s final opportunity.

In this relationship, Kyle has kept you second. Not on purpose but out of habit. Work is his lifeblood. It drives him, and every successful mission is a point of pride. But in keeping up with that, Kyle left you behind.

His absences lengthened, and over time, he noticed you were pulling away, closing off. But that isn’t your fault. Kyle created the perfect brew for you to drink. These are the consequences of his actions, and he needs to make it right.

There was a time when Kyle nearly did lose you. When he came home and thought you had packed up and left without saying a word. That broke him. Made him realize just how distant he’d become.

Change is difficult.

But Kyle did it. Slowly.

Your smile returned, and when he comes home, your greetings are full of passion.

I can’t risk losing you again.

Kyle takes a deep breath as the deadbolt on the front door disengages. There is a slight tremble in his hands. Kyle is never nervous. Never. But fuck—taking this next step is driving him up the goddamn wall.

He pushes off from the couch, turning just as the front door swings open.

You step inside, face turned away as you go to shut the door. When you finally glance into the room, all the nervousness inside Kyle’s chest evaporates.

Your smile is so sweet, and you don’t hesitate. Dropping your bag, you rush toward him, and Kyle cannot help but meet you halfway.

He’s making the right choice in asking you to stay with him forever.

John Price

“You’re not happy.”

John is happy. He is. But old worries bubble up, seeping into the joy. It’s tainting everything, and that is clear by how your smile starts to fade.

“I am happy,” he says, but his mouth is a hard line. John knows he’s frowning.

You shake your head, one hand resting over your stomach. “Don’t lie, John.”

This is supposed to be a happy moment. He should sweep you up in his arms. He should kiss you until you’re begging for air. But all John can think about are all the doctor appointments he attended with you, and the grimness of what might not happen.

From that came a daughter. John loves her. Adores her. But bringing her into the world nearly killed you. He grappled with that stress while being as present as possible with you. Growing your family has always been a dream, and John doesn’t fault you for a second. There is no family without you.

John grasps the sides of your face and moves into your space. Your own hands close over his, keeping him from retreat.

“I am happy,” he reiterates. “But we both know what it took to bring our daughter into the world.” John shakes his head absently and breathes deep. “Don’t do this for me.”

“John—”

“I can’t risk losing you again.”

This time, your smile returns. There is a hint of sadness lingering behind it, as if you too are reflecting on all that happened.

“Everything will be fine.” You release his hand and gently cup his cheek.

John kisses your forehead, his thumb absently tracing your jaw. “Are you sure?”

The decision is ultimately yours, and John will respect whatever you decide.

“I’m sure.”

“Okay,” he nods.

John pulls you in, lips finding yours. When you melt into him, accepting all that he’s giving, a wave of peace settles over him.

This is right.

And whatever happens, the two of you will face it together.

John "Soap" MacTavish

Johnny drips water all over the floor. He is soaked through. Shivering. But he could give a fuck.

“Where is she?”

“Soap—”

“Where the fuck is she, Price?”

Captain Price sighs heavily and crosses his arms. “She needs rest.”

Johnny swallows down his retort. He’s not upset with Price, and shit like this happens all the time, but he needs to know if you’re okay.

You took a fucking bad fall, and Johnny couldn’t stop to run after you. The mission comes first, and it wasn’t his job. Other people stepped in and whisked you away. But from the height you plummeted from, Johnny feared the worst.

Still does to an extent.

If you were dead, Price wouldn’t hide that from him. But he might hide how bad you’re injured as a way to protect him. Price has always been fatherly in that regard. Right now, it’s driving Johnny fucking nuts.

“Captain. Please,” Johnny clenches his fists and then releases them. “Let me see her.”

Price’s frown smooths a bit and the middle of his brow wrinkles with concern. “For a few minutes. All I can spare.”

Johnny has to keep from rushing to the hospital room doorway when the words leave Price’s mouth. He has Johnny walk with him to your door. Thunder rumbles in the distance and rain steadily hits the large window at the far end of the hospital room.

Just as Johnny takes a step inside, Price’s hand is on his shoulder.

“She’ll make it,” is all he says before he shuts the door.

Johnny lingers right inside. All the lights are off except a small lamp in the corner. Your eyes are closed, and your face is peaceful. There is bruising. A few bandages. The machines next to the bed beep softly.

He was so eager—so determined to get to you. Now, Johnny deflates.

On quiet feet, he grabs a chair and brings it over to your bedside. You don’t stir. Simply sleep. Johnny eases down into the chair and leans forward, his forearms crossed as he rests them on the side of the hospital bed.

Still, you don’t move. And Johnny doesn’t dare wake you.

Rest is important, and all he wants is for you to recover.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers. “That I didn’t come sooner.” The rain picks up and Johnny smooths back his wet hair. “But I can’t keep doing this. Every time you’re hurt I—” He sighs heavily and rests his forehead on his crossed arms.

“I can’t risk losing you again,” he murmurs into the bedding.

It’s become too much. You’re not supposed to fuck your coworkers and you shouldn’t fall in love with them either. But Johnny did both. With you. And he cannot take that back.

He’d give anything if you’d set this all aside.

Your fingers brushing against his scalp startle him. Johnny lifts his head, only to find you watching him. There is a soft smile on your lips, and his instinct is to grasp your hand and bring it to his lips, kissing each knuckle and then your palm.

The moment your mouth opens to speak, there is knock at the door. Johnny frowns and looks up, finding Price in the doorway.

“Time’s up.”

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[the-modern-typewriter]

Your work inspires me so much! Could I request a villain x hero where they’re both mutually in love but the villain, is very much a villain and murders people and the hero feels betrayed, and hates the fact they still love the villain (bonus for the villain doing it out of jealousy 🥺💕) don’t feel pressured to write this ofc! Thank you for taking the time to read and have a good day / evening and thank you for the content you produce ❤️

The hero scrubbed harder at their hands when they heard the bathroom door open behind them. Their shoulders tensed. Their jaw locked.

They didn't look up at the mirror.

"You're upset," the villain said, finally.

The hero snarled, wordlessly. Their skin was beginning to look flayed. Red from the hot water. Clean. Not clean enough.

"You know who I am," the villain pressed. "You know what I'm capable of. I've never hid it, never pretended to be something other than what I am."

"You killed them."

"I've killed before."

"Oh, well. That makes it all so much better then, doesn't it?"

The villain stepped closer. They gently took hold of the hero's wrist with one hand and firmly closed the tap with the other.

The hero whirled, wrenching back and shoving.

Part of them expected the villain to instantly lunge; slam them right back against a wall, leaving the two of them struggling. It was worse that the villain immediately put their hands up in placating, 'okay, I won't touch you', surrender.

It was too damn reasonable.

The villain's expression, through the blurry fury of the hero's tears, was too damn concerned.

The hero swiped at their cheeks, teeth practically bared. "Fuck you."

"Oh, I wish that was the mood, right now."

"You killed them because you were jealous."

The villain's head tilted.

"Don't deny it," the hero snapped.

"I wasn't denying thing. Outside of a court of law, I rarely do."

"This isn't a joke!"

"I wasn't joking, love."

"Don't call me that!"

The villain folded their arms across the chest, and for a moment the hero thought they might walk out and come back later 'after the hero had calmed down'. They leaned back against the bathroom door instead, shutting it.

The hero gulped. They took a step closer, fists raised - wanting to - needing to - they ended up hurling their shaking hands back to their sides.

"You know," their voice cracked. "I defend you to people. Did you know that? I tell them that you're not so bad. Ruthless, yeah, but you're not a monster. You have a code. You love me."

"I do love you, which is why I would never ask you to defend me."

"Like that's the point here!"

"Then what is the point?" the villain asked. Calm. Implacable.

"You're better than this. You're supposed to be better. You don't just - just kill people. Not because of me."

"Ah." The villain's gaze flicked down the hero's arms. "You feel you have blood on your hands."

"No. That's not it."

"Isn't it?"

"It's about you being morally reprehensible."

"Yeah, but we knew I was morally reprehensible, didn't we? Just as we both know I pretend otherwise sometimes when I can make it easy for you."

The hero made a strangled sound. Even if they did know that. Especially because they knew that.

The villain shrugged. "If it makes you feel better, it's not your fault. Yes, I was jealous that you were spending a lot of time fighting them. But on the other hand, they were also a morally reprehensible person, so really if I'm going to kill anyone it should be the people like me. I thought you'd be pleased."

"Pleased?!"

"Well, that I'm channelling my violent tendencies in a societally friendly way. You wanted to stop them too. Does the end not justify the means?"

The hero stared at them, aghast. They genuinely weren't sure if the villain was joking or not. They did not look like they were joking.

"I hate you," the hero said. "So much."

"Yes."

"That's all you have to say? Yes?"

"I'm not an easy creature to love," the villain said, softly. "Of course you hate me sometimes. Otherwise loving me would be unbearable."

"It is unbearable."

Some of the calm slipped from the villain's face; a flinch of pain.

it didn't make the hero feel better. It just made their hands feel more bloodied, more like the villain's hands. Hurting things.

"You know," the villain said. "You're not easy either. I limit my nature a lot for you. I compromise for you all the time."

"It's not a compromise when my demand is asking you not to kill people!"

"I've never asked you to stop risking your life to save people."

"That's not the same thing!"

"Hurts the same amount.," the villain said quietly.

The hero didn't know what to say to that. The two of them stared at each other from across the bathroom, the hero still shaking violently. "I don't want to do this right now," they managed to say, and it was only a little wobbly. "I can't deal with you right now."

"I wanted to check you're alright."

"Yeah? I'm not."

The villain bit their lip. "I really didn't think you'd react this badly. I wouldn't have done it if I thought it would upset you this much."

The hero closed their eyes, because it was true and it was terrible. Another treacherous tear spilled over their cheek. They dashed it away.

"What do you need?" the villain asked. "You should have water or you'll get a headache."

"I want you to leave."

"Are you going to put your hands under the tap again if I leave?"

The hero glared at them.

The villain's defences were back up again, so they merely raised an eyebrow. "I'll be outside, then."

"I thought you were better," the hero said. "You were supposed to be better."

The villain paused, one hand on the door, considering that perhaps.

"No," they said, after a moment, like the hero was the one who had committed some great and grave betrayal. "You just started pretending."

They shut the door behind them.

#hero x villain #heroes and villains #villains #heroes #writing #enemies and lovers #story #short story #ficlet #creative writing #writeblr

[r0-boat]

Lucifer headcanons PLSPLSPLSPLSPLS (Maybe what most citizens of hell think of him? And how they and the kings react when mc gets close to him?) PLSPLSPLSPLSPLS

I'm not confident in my Lucifer headcanon's since I wrote that Lucifer breeding fic but heeeeeere hhhhh

Lucifer headcannons

NSFW&SFW

Lucifer was once an angel and as angels the assistance of God they help make humans and devils so it would make sense that Lucifer one of God's most prized angels would know a fair amount of human and devil anatomy.

Perhaps he became Hell's greatest doctor because he felt guilt of how much useless slaughter he and his brothers did. So, instead of killing, he wanted to help. And his subordinates, supportive of his dream, became healers and doctors with him.

However, he is still the demon of pride, and he wants to be your primary care doctor, and he will not sway his will. The Kings really don't fight him on this because, well, he is the right person to trust with your health.

My most favorite headcanon (and probably the least true, to be honest) is that since his fall, he is slowly learning about sex and sexual attraction. And you are playing a heavy hand on corrupting him, and he loves it. He was a pious angel; though not perfect to many of his brethren, he was considered highly regarded. And now look at him, fucking you till you cry in an act so obscene that it would make his brothers weep. Corruption kink Lucifer. Go brrr.

He wants to corrupt you, just like you corrupt him, but how do you corrupt someone who is already sinful filth/affectionate

Lucifer sees you as the perfect partner to try sexual acts with because he trusts you the most, and he likes you. That goes without saying. Unbeknownst to you, Lucifer is a fast learner. Once you teach him how to pleasure you, the next thing you know, he'll be making you writhe and scream.

Lucifer is a little bitey during sex. Especially when he is about to come, he clenches his teeth before to stop himself from sinking his fangs into your neck, but he can't help it. He needs to feel your soft skin in his mouth. His favorite places to bite are your neck and your thighs, other than your tears and your cum,. Your blood is the third favorite taste.

Lucifer is on the more serious side; jokes tend to bounce off his head. Especially ones made by younger devils... So much so that he gets angry when anyone mentions any word he cannot understand.

As the demon of pride it is his way or the highway. He can break any rule he wants but you, less you want to be a brat (please do He likes to punish). You may not break any rules of his.

Lucifer is as caring and gentle as he is strict; your tears frighten him just as much as it arouses him. He doesn't want to see you cry if it's not from pleasure. His gaze will grow soft, his voice deep and gentle, calling you cooing as he wipes away your tears.

He still has that little bit of animosity toward you He knows it is not your fault. He tells you straight up that it's because he is an angel. Even though most of it is mostly gone, he still gets a slight sickly pleasure from making you cry; He can't help it. He's a little bit of a sadist when he comes to you.

Everyone knows what Lucifer's penmanship looks like but no one can fucking read it. It's a mess of This is the most doctor shit you've ever seen. To you it just looks like an L and a squiggle written in a shimmering gold font (expensive fountain pen gift from Mammon)

Mammon likes Lucifer in a sort of "ooh, that man is pretty; never had an angel in my collection before." Where when Lucifer sees Mammon, it's mainly with Satan, so his first reaction is "God damn it not again."

He still calls you child of Adam or child of man And he still apologizes for it.

Lucifer is quite the romantic despite now becoming a devil, he thinks that hellborn devils should learn that sex is much sweeter when the tension is right. Basically his version of "these youngsters are still young SMH"

Lucifer unironically likes Twilight.

Lucifer texts like he is a character AI bot with perfect English and punctuation. Good luck trying to text him back because he knows nothing about text slang.

You annoy him so much and he loves it. You're so cute please keep pissing him off he'll still love you even when he kicks you out. He literally can't stay mad at you.

He's wondering how the fuck are you still alive You've been wondering that yourself all these years. Maybe that's why you so protective over your health now.

Dads you a lot. "You have to eat this finish your food it's healthy. Blah blah blah- too much screen time is bad for your eyes." "Blah blah blah-humans should get at least 8 hours of sleep Go to bed- blah blah blah." "Stop eating shitty foods and actually cook a decent meal-blah blah blah." at this point, calling him Daddy is becoming less of a joke.

Also Lucifer: buys you chocolates, takes you to fancy dinners.

Lucifer hates being called Daddy. And he hates that he's starting to like it; please stop.

#whb #whb lucifer #what in hell is bad #whb headcanons #wihib #whb x reader #what in hell is bad x reader #whb smut #smut #whb lucifer x reader #what in “hell” is bad?

[honey-on-your-tongue]

Warnings: depictions of blood/blood kink.

Mean Miguel O'Hara x fem!reader

-----

Miguel isn't the type to ever be smitten. He's not the kind to stare after some pretty girl that gives him eyes, and he's not the kind to flirt around. Ever. And he was pretty sure you were going to be just another of the many spiders he's worked with.

You're not. He's head over heels for you.

Funny, witty, persistent. You take no shit from anyone. Not even from him. You've never been afraid of him, when he snaps or yells or makes his usual snarky comments, you don't even blink. You cross your arms, level his gaze, shift your weight to one of your hips and call him out. Calm and collected, your voice full of authority and confidence, and it always manages to shut him up. He'll purse his lips and turn away from you. Then you know you've won.

Not today.

Today, you walked away first. He yelled at you in a fit of rage even though the issue hadn't even been your fault.

"Miguel. Take it easy,” you tried to calm him down. “We'll fix this. We always do.”

“The fuck would you know? All you do is make more of a mess.”

“No. I don't. I'm here to help.”

He scoffed. “Help? You're useless. All you ever do is annoy everyone around you. No one stands you.” His eyes had met yours and he'd snarled, “Everyone hates you.”

And you knew it wasn't true. But it still hurt. You'd clenched your jaw, eyes narrowing at him. And then you turned around and walked away.

No one saw you the rest of the day.

Guilt has been eating at him all day. He's in his bedroom, pacing from one side to the other, hands tangled in his hair, sharp teeth digging into his lower lip.

“Fuck,” he growls at himself. He doesn't want to, but he's going to do it anyway.

You're sitting on your bed, a cigarette between your fingers. You exhale the smoke slowly, wiping away a tear that rolls down your cheek.

A portal opens in your room and you sigh. You're expecting Peter to show again, fully intending on comforting you again.

Instead, Miguel shows. When you see him, surprise rushes through you, but you're quick to mask it.

“Took a wrong turn, did you?” you say flatly. You take a drag from your cigarette and he frowns.

“Didn't know you smoked,” he mumbles, not waiting for an invitation. He steps closer to you and sits beside you on the bed.

You hum.

He swallows his pride. “That's not good for you, sabes. It'll kill you.”

“Yeah, thanks, dad,” you spit. “Is that what you came here to do? Point out all my mistakes and tell me how I'm gonna die?”

He sighs. “I'm trying to apologize, kid.” That stuns you into silence. “I...overstepped.”

“Understatement,” you mutter, putting your cigarette out.

He huffs silently. “This is fucking ridiculous,” he sighs. “Look. I didn't mean what I said. I was...upset. You-you know how I get when things don't go my way. And it...It was a low blow. I'm sorry.”

You blink at him. “Say that again?”

He throws you a glare, but sucks it up. “I'm sorry,” he says between clenched teeth. “I didn't mean it, alright.” He huffs a thick sigh, looking away from you, his gaze focused straight ahead. “And it's not true anyway. It was a cheap lie.”

You smile slightly, nudging his shoulder with yours. “I know that. I'm too much of a likeable person.”

He turns to look at you, that sharp gaze making you freeze. Your breath hitches, mouth inching open, and his eyes fall to your lips.

You swallow, drawing his eyes to the dip of your throat. He meets your gaze.

“Miguel...” Your voice is a soft, quiet sound. A low purr that makes his blood rush south.

“Ven acá,” he growls, huge hands moving to cup your face. He pulls you closer, kissing you roughly, sharp canines poking your lower lip.

You gasp, palms pressing to his chest. He kisses you rough, hungry, like he's been aching for you all this time.

His hand slides from your cheek to your neck, down your arm to your waist. He tugs you closer, your leg pressing against his.

Your hand finds one of the buttons of his shirt and starts fiddling with it. He smirks against you, hands moving to your hips to drag you onto his lap.

He makes a low, contented sound against your lips when your clothed core rubs against his hard cock. He slides his tongue into your mouth, tasting the cigarette you'd been smoking.

Your hands hold onto his shoulders, nails digging into his skin slightly. Almost instinctively, your hips start grinding on his, a whine leaving you.

He grunts slightly, starting to guide your movements in small circles, your clit rubbing against the thick tip of his cock, making you jerk in his grasp.

“Princesa,” he hums, “let me make it up to you.”

You meet his gaze. His pupils are blown wide, eyes darkened with lust. You don't even have to _think_ about it.

“Alright,” you say. “As long as you don't leave me waiting.”

He chuckles lowly. His hand moves to your thighs, thumbs caressing the inside of your thighs, inching higher until he's rubbing your cunt through your jeans.

You exhale softly, swallowing hard. He pops the button open, unzips your jeans, his knuckles grazing against your soaked folds.

You quiver on top of him. “Miguel.” It's a soft sigh, a breathless plea for more.

He dips his mouth into the crook of your neck. His tongue is warm, wet as it drags over your pulse.

He lifts you slightly, helping you out of your jeans before pulling you back onto his lap. His rough fingers caress you through your panties, gathering your slick until his fingers are dripping with it.

He raises his fingers to his lips, licks your arousal off. You blush as you watch, a wave of desire crashing over you and flooding your senses. He can barely contain himself at your taste.

He wants to toss you onto the bed, bend you over it and fuck you hard and fast. He wants you on top, wants to make you bounce on his cock until you're crying with ecstasy. He wants to tie you up, watch you squirm as he makes you come over and over and over, making sure you feel nothing but pleasure.

He pulls your panties aside, his digits quick to find your clit. You barely have time to react when he's already rubbing the nub in tight circles, his sharp teeth dragging over your jaw.

You whine, hips bucking, thighs tightening around his hips. “Fuck,” you hiss, eyes shut tight.

“I'm sorry, princesa,” he says. “Didn't mean to make you feel bad. Never meant to hurt you.” He nibbles your shoulder, his fingers pulling away from your clit. He tugs your panties and you lift your hips to take them off. Instead, he holds you down against him and tears your panties off.

You gasp at the sound of the thin fabric tearing, and he chuckles. “Después te compro más, princesa.” I'll buy you more later. “Don't worry about it.”

You nod. “Yeah, alright.”

He considers throwing the ruined panties aside, but he ends up tucking them in the front pocket of his jeans. He knows he's going to find a bunch of uses for it on those late nights he can't fall asleep.

He runs his fingers up your slit, spreading your folds and tracing your slick entrance with his middle finger. You shiver and he digs his teeth into his bottom lip.

“Princesa,” he groans, “look at how wet I've got you. You pretty, pretty thing...” He kisses your jaw, sharp teeth grazing your skin. He slides his thick middle finger into you, feeling your soft walls clench around him.

You moan softly, a breath leaving your lips. Your nails dig into his shoulders, a shaky exhale escaping you. “Miguel,” you say quietly, beginning to move your hips against his hand. “Ahh...”

He slides a second finger into you and grunts at the sound you make. He curls his fingers, pressing against your g-spot and making you whimper. His thumb catches your clit, drawing neat circles on it.

“Princesa, there's something I wanna teach you,” he says against your shoulder. “Want to make you feel something new.”

“Yeah?” you question, breathless.

You can feel him grin against your skin. “Has anyone ever made you squirt?”

You shudder. “No,” you reply, eyes fluttering shut. “Never.”

Miguel smirks. “Then it'll be my pleasure to teach you, princesa.”

You shiver, whimpering lowly. His fingers touch every right spot, with the perfect pressure and rhythm.

He pulls his face back a little so he can see you, his eyes watching your every reaction. He admires the way you tremble, your plump lips open as moans and whimpers leave you.

His eyes glisten with a predatory lust that has you shivering. And then he kisses your mouth, hard and hungry, almost bruising your lips with his. He licks you, his tongue sliding into your mouth to taste you.

You whine softly, legs quaking, and he moans lowly, a deep rumble in his chest that makes your arousal spark.

He slightly grazes your lips with his sharp canines, making you gasp, and the sound sends an animalistic heat through his body. Almost involuntarily, he bites your lower lip, hard, not only bruising the soft flesh, but also drawing a little bit of blood.

You hiss at the sensation, the pain adding to the endless flow of pleasure within you. He licks at your blood, groaning at the taste of it.

You move a hand from his shoulder to the hair at the back of his head, tugging at the soft locks there. He growls out a moan, a sharp breath leaving him. “Princesa,” he says lowly, as if in warning.

You whine in response, your hips beginning to stutter against his hand. You can't breathe right and you're trembling almost violently. You can feel your orgasm nearing, growing within you like a balloon of warmth low in your stomach.

He can tell you're close. His eyes shine as he watches you, his cock twitching as your velvet walls clench around his fingers.

“Come on, princesa,” he says lowly, leaning closer to your ear,licking your earlobe. “You can do it for me, yeah? You can come for me, can't you?”

You nod, moaning. “Yes...Mhmm!”

“Muy bien, princesa,” he praises, eyes darkening. “Almost there, aren't you?”

You whimper, trying to reply. But the sensation within you is dizzying, stupefying. Your orgasm grows closer and closer, making your every moan nothing more than a pathetic little whimper.

And suddenly a new sensation takes over you, growing deep in your womb and spreading to the rest of your body.

“Miguel—” You don't get the chance to say anything else to him. Your body shivers and your orgasm is suddenly dragging you under, your eyes fluttering shut.

He gasps softly as you come, your body shaking as you squirt onto him. He can't glance away, can't stop moving his fingers. He just keeps going, stuck in a trance as he watches your arousal gushing all over him.

You whimper when the pleasure becomes too much, one of your hands racing to grab onto his wrist weakly.

“Miguel, 's too much.”

He stops his movements then, eyes rising to yours. “Oh, princesa,” he says, voice rough and deep. “You did so well. So good, cariño.” He pulls his fingers out of you, licking them clean as you watch.

You lean towards his ear and whisper, “Miguel, please, fuck me.”

He shudders as your breath caresses the skin of his neck. “Say it again,” he orders quietly.

You grin. “Miguel, fuck me. I want you inside of me. Need your cock in me.”

“Dios,” he grunts, eyes shutting as his cock jerks in his pants, eager. “Esa boca tuya, princesa...Tienes carita de ángel y aun así...” That mouth of yours, princess...You have an angel's face and yet... “Capable of being so, so dirty. It drives me fucking crazy, princesa.”

He picks you up, placing you face down on the bed, one of his hands on your hip while the other one pushes you down against the mattress.

You gasp, back arching as he teases your raw, soaked folds with a finger.

He keeps his eyes on your cunt before moving them to your ass. His hands splay over the soft flesh, kneading it and squeezing it before he delivers a soft slap to it. You whine and his lips curl into a slight smirk.

He undoes his pants eagerly, pushing his jeans off, his underwear falling away with them. His cock springs free, the tip glistening with precum. He's so hard, he can't believe the way you affect him. It's insane how easy it is for you to turn him on and make him forget about everything else.

He runs the thick head of his cock between your folds and you shudder, hips jerking away before pressing back against his in search of more.

He holds tight onto your hips, fingers digging into your skin as he slides his cock into you.

You mewl at the sensation, gummy walls stretching to their limit, your legs trembling as he fills you to the brim. You gasp softly when the tip presses against your cervix and then some. You clench your hands around the bed sheets, your eyes shut tight.

“Fuck,” Miguel groans, his eyes locked on your cunt and how his entire cock has sunk deep into you with so much ease. “Oh, princesa, you've no idea how much I've wanted this.”

You whimper in response, not really able to say or do anything else.

His thrusts start out slow, measuring how much you can take while giving you time to adjust to his size. But soon, when he feels you're wet enough and you're rolling your hips against his in a desperate plea for more, he starts going faster, harder.

Your entire body quivers with each thrust, the breath leaving your lungs accompanied by little whimpers. Your eyes roll into the back of your head as he fucks you, and you're absolutely certain that you are going to pass out from the ecstasy.

“Princesa,” Miguel grunts, “I wanna try something else with you. May I?”

You nod, moaning out a squeaky, “Yeah,” as he keeps going.

He smirks, one of his hands leaving your hip to grab your hair and tug it hard, forcing your back to arch even more. He leans down to you, his chest against your back. You feel his lips on your shoulder, slowly trailing up to your neck, and then his teeth graze over your skin.

His sharp, sharp canines, send shivers down your spine. You shudder out a breath as he slightly bites you, the tip of his teeth digging into your skin.

He bites down a little harder, the pressure gradually increasing until his teeth sink into your flesh. You shudder, crying out as a shock of pain slices through you.

Miguel groans as blood starts flowing from you, its taste invading his senses. He licks your blood, reveling in the taste, and then he kisses the small wound he's inflicted.

You whimper, the pain adding to the pleasure and making your body shiver. You can feel the bliss within you growing into an unbearable entity within your womb, and you can't take it anymore.

“Miguel!” you whine, eyes fluttering shut, stars dancing behind your eyelids. “Miguel! I-I can't—! Fuck!”

“Shh,” he coos. “It's okay, princesa. Respira.” Breathe. “You're almost there.”

You cry out, biting down on the duvet to keep yourself quiet. Still, your little sounds echo in the room, growing louder as you reach your release.

Your orgasm tears through you, destroying whatever little was left of your composure. You shudder violently, body falling limp against the bed.

Miguel gasps as your cunt tightens around him, your arousal gushing out onto his cock. He keeps his hands on your hips, holding you up as your legs falter and give.

He thrusts into you a couple more times and then he comes, spurting his load deep into your pussy. You mewl weakly at the sensation, truly fucked dumb, and you can't do anything but feel him fill you up.

He grunts softly, grinding his hips against yours lightly before pulling out.

The two of you stay there for a moment, breathing heavily, bodies shaking from the shared effort. And then Miguel's quickly taking care of you.

He helps you onto your bed, laying you down gently and pushing your hair out of your face. He cleans you up with a towel, gathering your combined release with the soft material before tossing it in the laundry basket. He helps you into his shirt and he slides a pair of clean panties onto you.

Then, he lies beside you, his fingers tracing your skin, his eyes stuck on the way his shirt is too big for you because he's huge.

You cuddle up against him, your nose nuzzling into his chest. He smiles softly. “Am I forgiven, princesa?” he asks quietly, caressing your jaw.

You smile up at him, sleepily and pleased. “Yes. You absolutely are.”

-----

Blog masterlist

#miguel o'hara fic #miguel spiderman #miguel o'hara smut #miguel spiderverse #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara #miguel x you